The Road to Mercy (5 page)

Nashville rush-hour traffic diminished as Josh stood, staring out the window of Beth’s seventh-floor hospital room taking in the panoramic view of Nashville in front of him. Looking down onto the flat, pea-gravel roof of the reception building and the vast concrete-and-brick hospital complex to each side, he had a transcendent perspective on the world below.

The ambulance entrance, although quiet now, awaited the next trauma that would pass through the doors and alter a life, a family, forever. The windows of the huge hospital wing across from where he stood lined up like a giant crossword puzzle, twelve stories high and half a city block wide. Some were backlit. Some dark and ominous. Josh imagined a different story playing out behind each pane of glass.

A birth. A fight for life. Perhaps even a battle lost.

He said a silent prayer for those whose lives depended on the bittersweet cocktail of human compassion and sterile technology, with the assurance that God could work through both.

In the distance a church steeple reached to the sky. Beyond it was the beginning of a perfect sunset. Blue and purple clouds swam through streams of orange, as dusk replaced the imperfect clarity of the daylight. Another day ending left hope for
tomorrow—hope, and the realization that life could change in an instant.

At this point, Beth and the baby were doing okay. Still, he hated to go. But in a few hours he must leave for his shows in Oklahoma. Beth had insisted he fulfill his commitments, despite his protests to the contrary.

A noise in the hallway outside the door jolted Josh back to the moment. The night staff was coming on duty, greeting each other with eager conversation and good-natured laughter.

Life continued.

“What are you thinking about, honey?” Beth asked.

“How much I hate to leave you.” Her handsome husband turned to look at her. His boyish grin always brought her comfort.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, there’s not much you can do here except toss and turn on that squeaky old cot all night.” She pointed toward the daybed in the corner of her small room.

“My bus bunk will feel great compared to that thing.” He leaned over to kiss her. “I’m glad you’re better.”

She smiled. Having Josh nearby always made her feel better, even if her head continued to hurt as if it might explode at any minute.

“Don’t worry about me, Joshua. You go and sing your songs. That’s what you’re supposed to do. I’ll be waiting for you to take me home on Sunday.”

“Are you sure?”

“We’ve been through this a dozen times. Alex will take good care of me while you’re gone. Don’t worry!”

“I wish your mom could be here.”

“Josh, I’m fine.” She loved the way he worried about her. “Mom has her hands full with Grandma. I will be fine with Alex here. End of discussion.”

“Okay.” He drew the word out. “I guess I need to be going. The bus leaves at midnight. I’ve got laundry to do when I get home.”

It was her turn to fret. “I’m sorry, I wish I could—”

He pressed his lips to hers, silencing her protest. Her jaw quivered, and tears welled in her eyes. Despite her putting on a strong front, his leaving tore her apart. With her unfettered arm, she reached up and pulled him closer, wanting to hold him forever. Josh responded with lingering lips on hers, and a dam of pent-up emotions broke inside her. Tears streamed down her face. If only she could tell him everything.

She retreated into his warm, strong embrace, the fragrance of him reassuring her for the moment. Life had been so good. Why had her past come back to confront her?

They held each other until darkness overtook the dusk outside her window. Finally, feigning sleep, she allowed her husband to slip quietly out of the room, leaving her alone with questions, fear, pain—and guilt for what she could not tell him.

Hey, girl! How are you feeling this morning?” Alex walked into the hospital room carrying a huge bouquet of purple blooms.

“Those are beautiful,” Beth said, trying to sit up in bed and reach for the flowers. When she did, she became entangled in the tubes and wires that ran from the medical machines lined up beside her. Without warning she burst into tears.

Not again
. The thought of crying made her cry even harder.

“Here, let me help.” Alex set the vase on the bedside table and began to methodically untangle the tubing that filled Beth’s veins with drips and doses of solutions.

Beth wasn’t quite sure what kind of
solution
they represented. Her head still hurt and her mental focus fluctuated from zero to obsession in sixty seconds. “I’m sorry,” she said, doing her best to regain control.

“Why are you crying, Mama? Everything is going to be okay.”

The word
mama
brought a smile to Beth’s face. Alex had been calling her that since she found out about Beth’s pregnancy a few days ago.

Her neighbor and friend had been a godsend. She had stepped in to take care of everything since Josh left town on Thursday night. Alex fed and exercised Buster at home and then brought food and personal items to Beth at the hospital. Beth was thankful her neighbor had the time to give. If Alex had a family of her own, she might not be able to help.

Beth had often wondered why Alexandra Hayes had stayed single into her early forties. It certainly wasn’t for a lack of physical beauty. She imagined the vivacious redhead had left a trail of broken hearts behind her. Today, Alex’s copper-colored hair hung in a loose braid over her shoulder, and she looked fit and trim in a white cotton shirt and khaki pants.

“Do you want a tissue?” Alex asked, picking up the box from beside the bed.

“Yes, please.” Beth took one with her free hand and wiped away the stream of saltwater that had trickled down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little emotional right now.”

“Well, I can certainly understand why. It’s not like your life hasn’t changed drastically in the past week.” Alex plumped Beth’s pillow and then returned to the task of untangling wires and tubes.

“Thanks for your help.”

“I’m afraid I’m not doing a very good job.” Alex laughed as she picked at the mess. The freckles on her face knit together while she worked. “I’m afraid I might pull something loose if I apply too much pressure. If I did, do you think you would deflate like a hot air balloon?” Alex offered a wry smile.

Beth laughed out loud. “I’m not too worried about that. But I’m worried about falling asleep and offending my company.” She yawned. The sedatives Dr. Abrams had ordered were keeping her down.

“Lie back and relax,” Alex said. “You won’t hurt my feelings, I promise.”

Beth turned away, staring at the ceiling. She took several slow breaths, in and out, while Alex worked. The lines between the ceiling tiles began to blur, and then Beth heard them. Laughing. Talking. Playing.

“I give up. I’m calling a nurse.” Alex hit the call button on the side of the bed.

“Do you hear them?” Beth turned to her friend.

“The nurses?”

“No. The children.”

“What children?” Alex looked puzzled.

“They’re singing now. Don’t you hear them?”

“I hear the nurses down the hall—”

“Shhhh.”

“Bethany, I don’t . . .”

“How can I help you, Mrs. Harrison?” A nurse walked into the room and approached Beth’s bed.

Beth stared at her, still thinking about the children.

Alex spoke up. “Yes. These wires are twisted.” She pointed to the mass of tangled plastic near the bedrail and then stepped across the room, to the other side of the bed.

“They certainly are. Let me fix these for you, dear.” The nurse unplugged one of the tubes that ran to the dispenser, which hung from the pole beside Beth’s bed.

Alex settled into the chair next to the window. “Josh will be home tomorrow.”

“Oh—that’s right! I forgot.” Beth perked up at the thought of her husband.

Alex scrunched her face. “I’m sure it’s easy to lose track of time in here.”

“Speaking of time, Mrs. Harrison, it’s past time for your nap.” The nurse reconnected the tube. “You need to say goodbye to your guest for right now.”

Alex stood and walked toward the door. “Can I bring you something special to eat when I return?”

“No, thanks, I don’t have much of an appetite.” Beth’s words were slurred, another unwelcome side effect of the medication.

“That will change when you get home, dear. Remember, you’re eating for two now.” The nurse smiled and patted her hand.

Alex waved. “I’ll see you in a while, Mama.”

A few minutes later, the nurse adjusted the drug dispenser. “You’re almost out of morphine. I’ll be back with a replacement bag. In the meantime, you settle in and try to get some sleep. Okay?”

“Sure,” Beth said, before she dozed off.

Beth remembered Alex visiting later that afternoon, but she could only recall snatches of the conversation. The drugs had diminished the clarity she had once taken for granted. At times, fear and frustration overwhelmed her. For years, she had prided herself on being in control of her life. Now she drifted. It was sometimes difficult to discern between illusion and reality.

Knowing that Josh would pick her up in the morning and take her home carried her through the rest of the day, and she slept peacefully until nightfall. About six o’clock, a new assortment of nurses paraded in and out of her room taking care of shift-change duties.

As darkness fell outside her window, her mood shifted, the absence of light provoking unpleasant musings. The antiseptic smell of the hospital room reminded her of another time. An old feeling of shame and self-loathing crept into her consciousness,
and the past came closing in around her. She had made many mistakes when she was younger, but only one still haunted her.

God had now given her a second chance. The gift of life. New life.

It was a generous offering of mercy she did not deserve, but she would do everything she could to take care of the precious baby growing inside her. She would guard it with her life. Even if the very act of it killed her.

If it did, she took comfort in knowing that she would have two babies to hold in heaven. The child she now carried. And the child she had aborted.

Josh, please slow down.”

Beth tried to focus on the solid white line on the road to ease her nausea. Every curve brought a rush of vertigo. Each pothole jabbed her in the stomach.

“Sorry.” Her husband shot a quick glance her way. “I’m anxious to get you home.” He slowed his Jeep Cherokee and continued to make his way through traffic on Woodland Street, across the river from downtown Nashville.

“That day in the ambulance, I wasn’t sure I would ever see home again.”

“You had to be frightened.”

“That’s the amazing thing. I wasn’t.” There was no way to explain how that day had changed her life. “God’s presence kept me at peace. The further I drifted from life, the closer I felt to him.”

“Tell me about it,” Josh said.

She tugged on her safety belt and settled back into her seat. “I saw my life pass in front of my eyes. You know, like they always say happens before you die?”

Josh stopped at a red light and turned to look at her. The warmth in his brown eyes encouraged her to continue.

“Somehow I understood that he knew everything about me. Everything, yet he still loved me.” Chills skittered up and down Beth’s spine as she remembered the experience. “I wanted to go with him, Josh. I wasn’t afraid.”

“I’m glad he let you stay.” Josh returned his attention to the traffic ahead.

“Me too.” Beth reached across the console, picked up his hand, and placed it on her stomach. “With you, and with the baby.”

“Bethany, we need to talk about that—”

“Stop it!” She pushed his hand away. “We’ve already made that decision. I’m not giving up this child!”

“Beth, I don’t want to lose you. We can have another baby some day, when you’re well. This is not a normal circumstance. God would understand.”

“Understand what? That we don’t have enough faith to get us through this? Or that we don’t practice what we preach?” She forced a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. “Of course, he would understand that our lives are more important than the one he gave us to protect.”