Humbled (19 page)

Zarah had stuck with tea for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Solid food just wasn't settling well. She'd lain on her bed most of the day, not feeling too good. There was a knock on the master bedroom door. Zarah suspected it was the housekeeper since she's sent the cook home hours ago and Ann was busy with a personal appointment. Unable to get up, Zarah called out, “Come in.”

The door opened, and the housekeeper entered. “Mrs. Mitchell, I'm about to leave, unless there's something else you'd like for me to do.”

“No, there's nothing,” Zarah told her without budging from her spot on the bed.

“Are you sure?” the housekeeper asked, sounding a bit worried.

“I'm sure.”

“Would you like for me to call Mr. Mitchell for you?”

“No,” Zarah replied curtly. “I'm fine.” She mustered the strength to sit up so she'd appear to be okay. “Go on home and don't worry about me. I only need a bit of rest, and I'll be up and about tomorrow.”

The housekeeper was about to reply, then paused, acquiescing. She left the room, maintaining her worried look.

After the door closed, Zarah's head was heavy and so was her heart. She wandered from the bed to the chair, seeking comfort without success. She climbed back on the bed and buried her face in the pillow, wanting relief from the stress and the discomfort in her belly. Many thoughts tried to grip her, and they were mostly negative. She didn't dare think about the baby being in trouble. Her baby was blessed. It had to be.

Negativity was winning out. She finally dozed off to sleep, only to be awakened by a rush of anxiety. She practically popped up in the bed like a jack-in-the-box. Being in the house alone became overwhelming. The house staff was gone. Ann was on business. She wanted to reach out to someone. Her initial instinct was to call Joel. Gloom swarmed her as she feared his reaction. What if she called and he didn't answer? Worse, what if he answered but wouldn't come? She eased her head down on the pillow. Her only option was to call Tamara and have her come by. Her sister-in-law had been supportive, but there were times when she caused Zarah to feel badly about her commitment to Joel. Zarah wasn't up for debating with Tamara. She contemplated what to do.

Zarah decided to dial whatever name popped into her mind first. When she picked up the cordless phone lying on the nightstand near her bed, she heard broken beeps, which indicated she had messages. She eased herself against the headboard and retrieved the messages, looking for one from Joel.

“First message,” the voice rang out. “Zarah, this is Madeline Mitchell. I'd like to continue our conversation about the West Coast division as soon as possible. DMI has put together a deal that guarantees you ownership of Harmonious Energy. Give me a call as soon as you get this message. We're eager to get this deal done. I look forward to hearing from you today. Thanks.” Zarah gripped the phone tighter as her anxiety nudged upward. She listened to the next message in search of Joel's voice.

“Next message,” the voice announced. “Zarah, this is Tamara. I need to see you today. I have to work out a deal with you for the West Coast division. My mother might have called you already and offered you a ton of money, but please don't sell her the division without giving me a chance. This is a matter of life and death for me. Please wait until I see you.” Zarah moaned.

Initially she'd been intrigued about taking on a leadership role in the company. With Tamara's encouragement, she came to see the job as a way to honor her father's legacy and, more importantly, to gain her husband's heart. Faced with so much hard work, constant fights between Joel and Tamara, and pressure from Don and Madeline, Zarah didn't have the same excitement anymore. Her joy had been further squelched with each phone message.

She should have hung up the phone but let the messages continue playing. “Next message,” the voice said. Zarah was expecting it to be Don, asking about the division too. “Zarah, I'm calling to check on you.” Her eyes widened when she heard Joel's voice, and she drew her knees to her chest. Some of her stress melted away. “We also have to talk about the West Coast division. We didn't get to talk through my proposal before, but it's critical that we do so.”

Not him too.
She was deeply saddened. Wasn't anyone calling to see about her and the baby without asking about the division? Did anyone care? Anxiety rushed through her veins uncontrollably. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She winced from the pain but refused to panic. She drew in long, slow breaths. Despite her attempts to manage the pain, it intensified. She grasped for positive thoughts, finding none. She didn't know what to do. Instinctively, she wanted to call Joel. Under duress, she decided not to upset him prematurely. Fear and pain meshed, raising an alarm. Another wave of pain hit, and her alarm meter went into overdrive, with bells of panic ringing in her head.

She touched a small patch of moisture on the bed and looked down to find a few spots of blood on the sheet. Terror set in. She sprang from the bed and ran into the bathroom. Once inside, she found a few more spots of blood on her clothing. Doubt, fear, and panic rolled into a giant ball. She was paralyzed, unable to move. Losing her child couldn't happen. It just couldn't. She had to believe her baby was well. Denial seemed less frightening.

Spinning his wheels at the hotel was driving Joel crazy. Most of the week had been wasted, including the botched visit with Zarah. He had to get moving and make something happen. He drove onto the street without a clear direction. The admonishment from the church mother continuously replayed in his head.
You need to come back home in the spirit. You've been gone too long.
Joel was much more mindful of her advice than he'd been in the past. He wasn't discounting God totally. He couldn't, having experienced the power of God's presence supernaturally on numerous occasions. He definitely knew who God was, but he wasn't ready to give up his personal desires. The allure of being back in the limelight and in charge was a powerful drug, constantly pulling at him and taking precedence.

He revved the engine at the stoplight to bolster his enthusiasm. None was flowing personally or professionally. Zarah had discounted his last appeal. Yet she kept popping into his head. She had a board meeting with DMI coming up in a few days. The meeting was just as important to him as it was to her, although she probably didn't know why. The strength of her presentation could determine whether she got control of Harmonious Energy and then have the heart to let him have the West Coast division. He had made countless presentations to the board of directors and had a feel for what they liked. He could help Zarah tremendously in her preparation for the meeting. She hadn't asked for help, but it didn't mean she wouldn't welcome his input.
What the heck,
he thought, inching his way into the right-hand lane. He would zip onto the highway and go see Zarah. He would go unannounced, hoping she'd let him in. He didn't dwell on the alternative.

He punched the accelerator, intending to cut the drive down to a minimum. With each mile clocked, he grew more eager to see Zarah.

When he got to the house, he jumped out of the car, hurried to the door, and rang the bell. No one answered. It was after eight o'clock. The staff was gone, but normally Zarah was at home in the evening, at least the former Zarah used to be. The new one was hard to gauge. He rang the doorbell again and waited a few minutes. Again nobody answered. He plucked his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the house phone. No answer. He held the phone, not sure what to do. Where could she be, other than off somewhere with Tamara? Joel's zeal was doused.
Too late. You're out of luck,
he thought grimly. He pressed the doorbell once again and began walking to the car, dialing the house phone as he went. This time, Zarah answered.

“Hey, you
are
home,” he said, halting.

“Yes. I am resting.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Fabulous,” he wanted to say, relieved Tamara wasn't on the scene. “Would you like company?”

She didn't answer immediately, but he wasn't leaving without a yes.

“Because I'm at the front door if you do,” he added.

She still didn't answer, forcing him to be direct.

“I'd like to come in.”

“Do you have the key with you?” she asked.

“Why?” Joel asked before realizing he was being defensive. It was too late to retract the question.

“Because I don't want to come down the stairs. If you have a key, it would be most helpful for me.”

Joel had the key in his car. “Okay, I'll let myself in. Where are you? Upstairs?” he asked.

“Yes, I'm in the bedroom.”

“Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right up. Is there anything I can get for you?”

“No, thank you,” she said in a strange tone.

Zarah didn't seem to have the same eagerness to see him as she had during other recent visits. Joel wasn't certain, but he figured Tamara had something to do with the mood change. He didn't let it bother him. He got the key and went inside Zarah's house, which was his house too, and savored the advantage he had over Tamara. She had a mouth and many unsolicited opinions, but what Tamara didn't have was a key. She was an outsider who had access to his wife only when invited. Joel's steps slowed as he reclaimed his influence on Zarah.

She didn't want him to bring her anything, but Joel stopped by the kitchen and got two bottles of water, one for each of them. He climbed the stairs and headed to the master bedroom. He hadn't been in there in over a month. Before leaving for Chicago, he had shared the room with Zarah on occasion, but his love had been absent. He swallowed the awkwardness, opened the door, and approached Zarah, who was lying on the bed. She didn't move when he entered the room. He found it slightly odd but was not alarmed. He'd maneuver gently through the conversation until Zarah either kicked him out or warmed to his visit.

“You're not feeling well?” he asked, remembering what she'd said earlier.

“I'm fine.”

She didn't appear fine, but he didn't harp on her appearance. Joel certainly didn't want to make her self-conscious about the way she looked. He rerouted the conversation away from her health, assuming that she wasn't having a problem. “Are you ready for the board meeting coming up?”

“I don't want to talk about business,” she said, cutting him off abruptly. She stood. “I have much pressure from everyone in the family, and it's very stressful for me and the baby.” She clutched her stomach. “I can't take the pressure,” she said, crying out and clutching her stomach tighter.

Joel rushed to her. “What's going on?” he asked. He could see she was in pain. “Here,” he said leading her to the chair. “Sit down and have some water.” He handed her one of the bottles he'd gotten from the kitchen. Joel wasn't a medical technician, but he didn't have to be one to see that something was wrong. He feared for her and the baby. “What's wrong?” he asked, determined to get an answer.

A second later Zarah was wincing, with her fists balled tightly and pressed against her abdomen. He tried to get her to tell him what was happening, but nothing coherent reached his ears. Zarah became increasingly hysterical. He was out of his element and didn't know exactly what to do.

Without a better idea, he yelled at her in a loud, commanding voice. “Zarah, you have to calm down and tell me what's going on,” he shouted from a squatting position in front of her.

“I can't lose the baby,” she repeated over and over.

“You won't,” he replied, with the sole purpose of reassuring her.

He had to get her to calm down; otherwise there was no telling what could go wrong. It didn't take long for Joel to realize he was in way over his head and had to get help.

“Let me call the ambulance and get you to the hospital,” he said.

He went to stand, and she dug her hand into his arm. “No, no hospital. I don't want to be there.”

“But you're in pain,” he said, exacerbated by the entire ordeal. Her condition wasn't one to play around with. Indecision could mean the difference between the baby living and dying. Joel was motivated to action. His baby had to live. “I have to get you to the hospital.”

“Please, no,” she pleaded. “Rest is what I need, not the hospital.”

Joel was torn. She continued pleading, which wore him down. Against his better judgment, he caved. “All right, I won't call nine-one-one. I'll let you rest for a while.”

She leaned forward and hugged him. “Thank you.”

He pushed her back gently in order to make eye contact. “I will not let you stay here alone. I won't call so long as you let me stay here with you.” He sensed the stress rising in her as she tightened her grip on his arm. He quickly worked to diffuse her worry. “I will feel much better sleeping close by in the guest room.” Before she could reject his appeal, he added, “And this is nonnegotiable. I stay, or I place the call. The choice is yours.” He peered straight at her without wavering.

She must have noted the seriousness in his voice, because Zarah agreed without resistance. He figured she was probably as glad to have him there as he was to be there. She let her body relax in the chair.

“I'm glad you're not fighting me on this,” he said. “Can you stand?”

“Not very well,” she told him.

In a flash, Joel gently scooped Zarah up from the chair and carried her to the bed. He delicately placed her on top of the sheets. She slid underneath. He tucked her in, harboring the same reluctance about not going to the hospital. Joel hoped it wasn't a decision he'd live to regret. He sat on the edge of the bed.

“Remember, I'll be right next door. Call me for anything. Do you hear me? Anything.”

She nodded in affirmation.

He tucked the phone next to her. “Don't get up for anything. Call me first.”

She agreed.

Joel brushed the hair from her face and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Don't worry. I'm here.”

She sighed, and he could tell Zarah's discomfort hadn't subsided.

“Can I get you an aspirin or a pain pill?”

“No,” she blurted out. “I won't hurt the baby. No medicine.”

Joel stroked her face again, frustrated that he'd upset her. “Okay, no medicine,” he told her. Joel would keep his promise for as long as he could, but he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't change his mind later. “Good night,” he told her and turned out the light on his way out of the room.

He went down the hallway and around the corner to the closest guest room. With each step, the distance seemed too far from Zarah. He'd be more at ease sleeping outside her room. Once she fell asleep, he might even take a nap on the chair in her room. He'd decide right after placing a call to his mother. This was a big deal, and he needed his mother's advice.