Authors: Lenora Worth
Emily released the recliner footrest and boosted herself from the seat and eased her way to the chair.
He stood back and watched. “Show me how far back you can push your leg.”
She tried but as soon as the pain came, her will failed her.
Greg knelt down and added pressure.
“You can’t make it go back any farther,” Emily moaned as he forced her foot beneath the chair, coercing her knee to bend at a sharp angle.
“Sure, it does,” he said with an understanding smile. “But it hurts.”
“Not you! It hurts me, Mr. Physical Therap—Tormentorist.”
“You have a great sense of humor, Em.” He chucked her under the chin.
“It’s that or strangle you.” She winced. “Or cry.”
“Let’s just stick with your wit and forget the threats. I’m too young to meet my Maker.”
“Then keep that in mind the next time you contort my knees that much.”
He rose and patted her arm. “But how else will you walk if we don’t get these legs working like new?”
Her heart sank. “They are new. That’s my problem.”
He ignored her. “How about some leg lifts?” He pulled her walker in front of her chair.
Emily rose, relieved that he’d finished that part of her exercise. “I like you better as a friend. Do you know that?”
“I know…but it’s because I care so much.”
“You sound like my mother making me take awful-tasting medicine,” Emily said.
“Just finish these lifts and it will hold you for today.” He stood back and watched. “Push. Push.”
She gave him an evil eye.
He ruffled her hair. “Walking is good. Go outside when someone’s here to help you. Enjoy the end of summer.”
“You expect me to traipse around the neighborhood clinging to this walker?”
“How about the driveway. You could put a bag over your head so no one recognizes you.”
The image gave her a hearty laugh.
“Okay, then, we have that problem solved.” He helped her back to the chair and plopped onto the sofa.
“I suppose I should say thank you,” Emily said, shifting to relax her legs on the recliner footrest.
“You’re welcome.” He grinned.
“I’ve really missed you.”
An unexpected look rose on his face. Discomfort? Apprehension?
Emily’s breathing shallowed, wondering what it meant. She’d come to learn Greg couldn’t hide his feelings. His face told it all. “What’s wrong?”
He released an uneasy sigh. “I might as well get this over with.”
Her stomach lurched, and she held her breath. Could her fears be coming true? He’d been scarce since her surgery and today’s generosity could be just a kind way to say goodbye.
She forced the words from her throat, not wanting to hear the answer. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I
’ll be gone again for a few days. On Thursday, I’m flying out to Denver for a training workshop. I won’t be back until midweek. I’m filling in for another therapist.”
Emily struggled to cover her disappointment. “You seem to do a lot of filling in.”
“It’s part of my job, Em. I’m sorry. The medical field changes daily. We’re constantly being briefed on new procedures and equipment.”
“I know. I’m just—”
“Disappointed. Be patient.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“It’s not easy, Em.”
But it was easy. Easier to be discontent than face life. Except for Marti, Emily had been alone a long time. Why was it different now? Why did she feel more lonely today than she did a few months ago? She knew the answer. Greg. Hopes and dreams. She had to stop and face reality before life crumbled in on her.
Greg took a deep breath. “I suppose I should go. I have
a busy day tomorrow.” He gazed down at her legs. “When does the nurse visit again?”
“Friday morning. I’ll be fine.”
“With all the prayers we’ve all sent up for you, you should be indestructible,” Greg said, flashing her a warm smile.
A snide comment rolled across her tongue and she swallowed her words. He hadn’t known her when she prayed over and over for Ted to live. If prayers had been all it took, Ted would be standing beside her now. If prayers were answered, she’d have her own knees. If prayers were answered…
Standing by the Arrivals/Departures monitor, Greg checked his departing flight. On time. He eyed his wristwatch. He had a few minutes before boarding, and as always, his thoughts turned to Emily. Concern jabbed at him. In the past weeks, he sensed something going on with her, something he couldn’t decipher. He’d tried to put a name to it. Withdrawal. Apprehension. An emotion without a name. Nothing he could solve because he didn’t understand the problem.
He’d grown to care for her…love her, if he were honest, but he’d been anxious since his talk with Marti, trying to imagine life without a child. His own child.
Though marriage had eluded him, stifled by his own preoccupation with his career, now that the possibility arose, marriage and family seemed to go together. He was certain many marriages were fulfilled without children, but…his joy in life had been working with kids. For him, marriage and children seemed inseparable.
Could loving Emily overcome his desire to be a father…to have a child of his own? He’d pondered and prayed. Adoption was possible. Would that be the answer? Would that fulfill his longing to be a parent?
Since Emily’s surgery, he’d been neglectful. Had he used his job as an excuse? He didn’t think so, but guilt poked at his reasoning. He’d hoped to remedy his distractions. Now this Denver trip threw his plan out of kilter again.
Greg hadn’t meant to fall in love with Emily…or anyone. But despite his resolve, he sensed God leading him to her, and Emily had nestled in his heart as silently and tenderly as a butterfly on a blossom.
But how did Emily really feel about him? Their growing relationship had faltered…as if she were afraid to love. Recently he’d felt the wall rising between them. Slowly at first, but now the barrier seemed higher and stronger. Not that they didn’t talk and laugh, but something blocked the warm honesty that they’d enjoyed.
Greg’s heels clicked along the terminal’s tile floor as if numbering the questions and thoughts that barraged his mind. Why did Emily fear loving him? He tried to put himself in her shoes. She’d lost a husband, and with that, she’d lost her trust in God. She’d lost hope.
His internal fear surfaced. Was it children? Did she refuse to love him because she couldn’t have children? Greg had prayed about that, too. With God all things were possible…so what did he fear? He wanted Emily to have trust and faith. But where was his own?
The situation filled him with shame. How long would he harbor the guilt and anguish over his brother’s death? He’d been only a child, and it had been an accident—but an accident based on carelessness. If he’d told Aaron no—not allowed him to ride the sled with him down the dangerous hill—Aaron would be alive today. He’d never told the truth to his parents, and he hadn’t found courage to share that with Emily. If he weren’t open with her, how could he expect her to be honest with him? If he hadn’t forgiven himself, how could he expect Emily to forgive?
Greg stepped onto the moving sidewalk. In a minute, he’d be at his departure gate. He checked his watch. He still had time to call Emily. When his foot hit the solid floor again, he headed for the nearest telephone.
Punching in her number, Greg waited. When he heard her voice, his shoulders relaxed.
“Just checking in to see how you’re doing.”
“Greg.”
Her halted response concerned him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine…but I thought you were leaving this morning.”
“I’m at the airport.”
“You’re calling me from the airport? Is something wrong?”
“No. I was…thinking about you.” He rethought his response. “No. About us, Em.”
Silence.
“I wish I didn’t have to go. I have so much I want to…”
Think about. I need to think. I can’t hurt this woman. Dear Lord, give me direction here.
“You have so much what?”
Her voice sounded frightened. Greg wanted to kick himself for making things worse rather than better. “I have so many things getting in my way, Em, but I’ll be back in a few days and…”
“I’ll be fine, Greg. Please don’t worry. I have the visiting nurse and the therapist. And…I have Marti.”
But do you have me, Em?
“Are you there?” Her sad voice echoed across the wire.
“I’m here, but I have to run. My plane is boarding. The sooner I get there, the sooner I’ll be back.”
“Have a safe trip.”
“Thanks, Em. We have to talk when I get home. I’ll see you then.” I love you, he said to himself as he placed the receiver on the phone.
He needed to think and to explain his feelings. He needed most of all to understand the emotions and concerns that rattled in his head. Greg prayed the fortress he and Emily had built around themselves would crumble once he returned from Denver…and they had time to talk.
Sunday afternoon Emily sat in the living room, watching for Pastor Ben’s car. He’d called to ask if he could stop by, and Emily agreed. She wished Marti were here to help her entertain him, but she and Randy were out for the day.
Out for the day. Emily longed to have a life where she could be “out for the day.” Since Greg had telephoned Thursday morning, she’d struggled with her thoughts. He sounded distracted…almost as if he had more to say but had stopped himself. She wanted to read between the lines, but nothing made sense.
Fear weighed against her chest, while she was thinking about Greg’s words on the telephone. “We have to talk when I come back.”
The words froze in her heart. She had almost allowed herself to fall in love. Almost? If reality didn’t hurt so badly, she would laugh. She
had
fallen in love—that was the problem. She’d slowly begun to trust again, and once more, she felt betrayed.
And now, what could she say to Pastor Ben? He was a good man, encouraging her to lay her burdens at Jesus’ feet. How she longed to do that. But something was wrong with her. She wasn’t worthy. She felt as if God had turned His back on her, and she didn’t know why.
Tears pressed against her eyes. As she wiped them away, she heard a car in the driveway. No time to check her makeup. She hoped the pastor wouldn’t notice she’d been crying.
She eased her way to the foyer, and when he rang the bell, Emily opened the door. The August sun shimmered
heat waves on the cement, and Emily encouraged him to hurry inside so she could close the door against the hot air.
“You’re looking very good, Emily.”
“Thank you. Would you like something cold to drink? Iced tea or lemonade?
“Lemonade would be great. Thanks.” He followed her into the kitchen, and once she poured the beverages, he carried them to the living room.
“Thanks,” she said when he set her drink on the table. Emily motioned to the sofa. “Please, have a seat.”
He sat where she’d suggested, and Emily released her walker and sank into the recliner across from him. She pulled the lever to elevate her legs.
“So tell me how thing are going,” he said.
Without inclination, tears returned to her eyes and she let them fall, tired of fighting her emotions.
Without pressing for an explanation, Pastor Ben waited. When she had calmed, he handed her his handkerchief. “When you’re ready, I’d be happy to listen,” he said. That was all.
He leaned back, propping an ankle on the opposite knee and folded his hands in his lap.
Emily stared at him, not knowing what to say. She’d said it all before. Or had she? The thoughts piled in her head like Pick Up sticks.
“I don’t know where to begin…if I wanted to,” she said.
“The old cliché says to start at the beginning. What’s the first thought that pops into your head?”
“Greg” shot from her mouth before she could stop herself.
“Greg?” A quizzical expression settled on his face. “What about Greg?”
“I don’t want to love him.”
“But you do?”
She nodded, her pulse racing with her admission.
“Why don’t you want to love him, Emily?” He lowered his leg and leaned forward with folded hands, resting his elbows on his knees.
A myriad of thoughts tumbled through her mind. Because Greg should be a father. Because Greg deserved better. Because…
“Can you tell me?” he asked.
Emily shrugged, brushing the tears from her eyes. “Because he doesn’t love me.”
“Are you—“
“He says he cares about me.”
His eyes narrowed. “But you don’t think he does?”
“No. He cares, but he cares about everyone. He’s active with the Special Olympics. You should see the love in his eyes for those children. He cares about his patients. But I want more than caring. I don’t think he loves me.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know.” She sorted her reasons. “His actions differ from what he says.”
Pastor Ben dragged his fingers through his hair. “You mean he says he cares for you, but he doesn’t show it?”
“Yes…well…no. Not exactly.”
His frown deepened, and so did hers.
“You see, I’m confused. He’s done so many things for me. Wonderful things.”
“Wonderful things?”
Greg’s kindnesses settled in her thoughts. “He cleaned out my flower beds and planted my garden. He brought me a huge floral arrangement when I was in the hospital. When he disappointed me because he had to work overtime at the hospital, he came the next evening with his arms filled the groceries and cooked my dinner.”
The visions bounced into her thoughts like popcorn in hot oil. “So many things like that.”
Then Greg’s telephone call came to mind. “He telephoned from the airport Thursday before he left for his conference.”
The pastor rose and flexed his shoulders, then ambled across the room before turning back to Emily. “What do you expect from him, Emily? How has he disappointed you?”
Silence flooded the room. What did she expect? Had she been truthful with Pastor Ben? She wanted Greg to love her, but more, she feared that she would disappoint him.
“I don’t know,” she said, unable to look him in the eye.
“I think you do.”
“But they’re foolish things. Unimportant. I’m ashamed of myself.”
He strode to her side. “Never be ashamed, not when you’re being honest. The solution to many problems is communication. Maybe you haven’t been open with Greg.”
“Before he left for Denver, he said we needed to talk,” she said.
Pastor rested his hand on her shoulder. “Then that’s a start.”
“But he didn’t kiss me goodbye.” She could only whisper the words.
Then silence.
“It’s foolish things like that,” she continued. “I question every nuance. I try to second-guess every vocal inflection, looking for innuendoes. I ask myself if God is punishing me because I’d lost my trust in Him.”
She let the words spill out, piling one on top of the other, like the same Pick Up sticks, but this time, she
didn’t have to pull them out one by one. They were all there on the table for the pastor to sort.
“Then it’s not Greg but God you still don’t trust.”
The weight of his words fell on her shoulders. She cringed with the awareness.
“We talked before, Emily. I think you’re punishing yourself because you cannot imagine a God who is totally forgiving. One who holds you in His heart while you’re struggling to be free. One who numbers each hair on your head because you’re so precious to Him.”
Comprehending, she sat frozen. Everything he said had been true. She couldn’t imagine a God who could love so completely.
“You can’t punish yourself enough to earn forgiveness, Emily. It’s free. God gave us His Son. You know this. Only you’ve filled your mind with so many fears, there’s no room for truth.”
He lifted his hand from her shoulder and returned to the sofa. “You can’t solve all your problems alone. And I really don’t think you want to.”
Tears rolled down Emily’s cheeks. “I’m tired of being alone. I want to be loved. I want to live again….” Once more, the Easter banners filled her thoughts. From death to life. She’d been dead for so long that now she feared life.
She closed her eyes and opened them again, refocusing on Pastor Ben. “I don’t know if I can handle rejection. I fear that if I love Greg with all my heart—and I already do—that he’ll be taken from me.” Or leave me because I can’t have children. Her conscience screamed in her head.
The sobs tore from her chest, pouring out into the afternoon sunlight. She’d said the words she’d hidden even from herself. She’d let them fly into the air, too late to hold them back.