Spring Rain (31 page)

Ted shrugged again and turned his attention back to Clay and Leigh. Clay looked devastated, a reaction Ted hadn’t foreseen, and he felt a clutch in his heart. Clay always seemed so secure, so sure of himself. That he could be so distraught shook Ted. His idea hadn’t been to cause hurt but to promote healing, to give Clay the gift of knowledge, of a son. Clay’d never believe it, but he hadn’t meant to wound him. He’d wanted to help. Ted shook his head. No, Clay’d never believe that.

Ted smiled softly at Leigh’s earnest face as she continued to talk softly to Clay. Imagine the wronged woman offering succor to the villain in the piece. He knew he was seeing something
unusual, a combination of Leigh being her usual sweet self and the power of God at work through her.

Satisfaction bloomed in his chest. He had done the right thing. He had. He’d accomplished his purpose. Clay knew. What he did with the knowledge was up to him. Now Ted could relax, lie back, and close his eyes.

As he let go of the fierce determination he’d gathered about him to see the revelation through, exhaustion overwhelmed him in a great, gray wave. The adrenaline drained away and left no physical reserves. He felt light-headed, faint. A coughing spell wracked him, his chest heaving, and he struggled to catch his breath. He began to shiver with fever.

He felt his mind go fuzzy, and he hadn’t the strength to fight it. He needed to tell Matt about his success. Matt would be proud of him. He’d understand why he did it. He wanted to tell his father too. And he wanted to go to the beach with Clay and build sand castles.

Why doesn’t he build castles with me anymore? I’m his twin. We always built castles together. And we buried Dad. In sand and for real. We buried Dad.

He wrapped his arms about himself trying to keep warm as shivers took him.

J
ULIA TURNED AUTOMATICALLY
to David when Ted’s story was finished, and he wrapped her in the security of his arms. She felt as if her heart had been torn open, and she was almost surprised that she wasn’t leaving bloodstains on his crisp shirt.

Why had Ted deliberately ruined their evening? Tonight had been so important to her. She’d planned every little detail with such care—the chicken cordon bleu, the twice baked potatoes, the brussels sprouts that Ted had loved from the time he was a boy. And the chocolate cake with caramel icing. She wanted them all to have a precious memory to pull out and relive in the dark days ahead.

Ted seemed to understand her plan without her even verbalizing it. He came to dinner wearing clothes instead of his pajamas and robe. He hadn’t bothered with clothes for a couple of weeks. She’d been so pleased. And then he had told his story.

It wasn’t like Ted to be so cruel. He was the son with the gift of mercy. He was the one who cared unflaggingly for Leigh and Bill, who helped her learn to live again after Will’s death. But he had deliberately ignored Leigh’s pleas and her own foolish cake comment.

“It’ll be okay, Julia,” David’s deep voice whispered in her ear. “We worship a redeeming God. He’ll bring good out of this seeming catastrophe if we give Him time.”

She nodded and tried to make herself believe him, but at the moment the sentiment seemed only empty words. After a couple more comforting moments leaning on him, she made herself pull back. She had to stop acting like a weepy heroine from some sappy romance, throwing herself into his arms every time something upset her. She had managed on her own for the past three years. She must continue to do so. She rubbed at the tears on her face.

She looked at Clay and Leigh, intensely focused on each other, and felt near despair. What was going to happen to them, these people she loved so much?

“They’re both good people, and they both love the Lord,” David said quietly, as if he could read her mind. “Trust them. They’ll sort it all out.”

She closed her eyes. “I hope so. Oh, God, let it be so,” she prayed.

She turned to look for Bill. He was playing with the handheld computer game David had given Ted, Terror seated beside him watching the blinking lights and quirking his head at the beeps and burps.

“I don’t think he understands what’s going on,” David said, again reading her mind.

She nodded, agreeing. The tension and loosed secrets flying about the room seemed to have sailed right over the boy’s precocious head. “Thank goodness! He needs to be told, but not like this.”

“Leigh will tell him.” David’s voice was steady and confident. “She’s been a wise mom so far. She’ll be one again.”

Julia rubbed the back of her neck even as she wrapped an arm about her middle. She couldn’t decide which hurt worse, her tense neck and shoulder muscles or her bubbling mud pot of a stomach. She needed her ibuprofen and her antacids! She was too old for all this emotional chaos.

“Let me.” David stepped behind her and began kneading her tight shoulders. She sighed under his touch.

“Uncle Ted!”

She jumped at the panic in Bill’s voice, her hand reaching automatically to David. She spun toward Ted.

“Uncle Ted! What’s wrong?”

Ted lay in his chair, head back, eyes closed, face white. He looked like a doll flung aside by a little girl too busy to play with it anymore, limbs askew, totally slack. For a moment, Julia thought he was dead, and her heart stopped.

Then he shivered and began to hack painfully.

“Ted!” she cried, rushing to her son, David right behind her. She put her hand on his forehead. “He’s burning up!”

“Bill,” David said, his tone clipped and urgent. “Go to my car and get my bag.”

Bill ran, looking back over his shoulder at his uncle with fear in his eyes.

“Let’s get him to bed so I can check him.” David turned to Clay. “Help him upstairs.”

Clay, attention frozen on Ted like everyone else, dropped Leigh’s hand and went to his brother. He slid his arm around Ted’s shoulders and tried to help him stand, but Ted wasn’t up to the task. Finally, Clay just lifted him like he might a child, an arm behind his back and an arm beneath his knees, and carried him. The sight of brother helping brother made Julia’s own legs weak.

Bill ran back in with David’s bag. Leigh took it and turned Bill toward the TV. “Watch for a while.” She spoke softly, giving him a gentle shove. “We need to let Dr. Traynor be alone with Uncle Ted for a bit.”

Bill did as he was told, but Julia knew he wasn’t watching the flickering image. He kept glancing up the steps while the weatherman on the Weather Channel, who under normal circumstances rated an “Ugh!”, kept reporting the varying climatic conditions around the country for the coming holiday weekend. They were on the third installment of the local weather before David reappeared. By this time, Julia was so taut with apprehension that she vibrated.

As David ran a weary hand across his face, Julia rushed to him. He slipped an arm across her shoulders.

“He’ll be all right.” He patted her shoulder. “I hear crackles in his right lung base, but I don’t think it’s too serious yet.”

“Pneumonia,” whispered Julia. Fear rolled over her in a great wave. Pneumonia was deadly for AIDS patients.

“I had some sample antibiotics in my case,” David said. “I’ve given him a dose and left some. I’ll leave a prescription for you to
fill tomorrow. If he doesn’t become short of breath and if he takes lots—and I mean lots—of fluids, he can stay home for the time being. If he gets worse, I’ll have to send him to the hospital. I’ll check with the home health nurse tomorrow and stop by if I can.”

She looked at him. She knew her eyes were wide and full of panic, and she hated it. Most of the time she kept a tight clamp on her fear, but sometimes it was more than she could contain. It burst forth, swirling, seething, a great undulating serpent wrapping around her and squeezing rationality and faith from her.

Ted was dying, maybe this week! Since his eventual demise was old news and as inevitable as the rising of tomorrow’s sun, why did it continue to have this power to devastate her?

“But for now he can stay home?” she asked, trying with limited success to keep her voice calm. “Because he’ll be all right? You’re not just saying that?” She wanted to grab David’s lapels and make him swear, make him promise on every Bible they could gather, that Ted would be fine.

David rubbed weary eyes. “He should be all right in a couple of days.”

“Should be? Just should be?” It wasn’t good enough.

“Julia, that’s the best I can do. If the medicine works and the fever breaks in the next couple of days, we’ll survive this crisis. He’ll have more time. You’ll have more time.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

He didn’t answer, and she didn’t need him to. “Sometimes I can’t stand the uncertainty.” She pulled away from him. “I just can’t stand it!” She turned and started for the stairs, her steps jerky and her breathing rapid. She had to see Ted for herself, see that he was still breathing, still living.

David caught her arm. “Don’t go up now.”

She pulled against him. “I’ve got to.”

“He’s resting, and Clay’s with him. He’ll let us know if there’s any change.”

“Clay.” She said it with scorn. “What does he know about caring for Ted?”

“Julia, look at me.” David waited until she turned her frantic gaze on him, then shook his head slowly and deliberately. “Don’t go up. You’ll upset him more than help him.”

“I have to! I’m his mother.” She pulled against him some
more, trying to wrench her arm from his grasp.

He placed himself between her and the stairs. “You’re too distraught. He needs to rest.”

Huge tears slid down her cheeks. “Get out of my way, David. That’s my baby, and he needs me.”
And I need him.

He didn’t move. Instead he said in a wry tone, “By how many minutes?”

“What?”

“You said he was your baby. How many minutes later than Clay was he born?”

David’s question burst the bubble of Julia’s near hysteria like a well-placed pinprick. In that instant her fear metamorphosed into anger. “Are you laughing at me?” she demanded, her voice quivering with fury.

“Hardly,” he said evenly. “I’m trying to calm you down.”

“Calm me down?” Her voice rose. “Calm me down? Why, you—”

David enfolded Julia in his arms, surprising her and pinning her arms against her sides.

“Let me go,” she hissed, struggling. “Let me go.”

He ignored her and held on as she pushed and shoved against him. “Shh, sweetheart,” he whispered over and over again. “Relax. Just relax.”

She continued to struggle halfheartedly for a few minutes, then sagged against him. Her arms snaked around his waist, and she went still, weeping softly, her fiery defiance tempered into slow-burning despair.

“David.” Leigh’s face was pale. “Why don’t you take her outside for some fresh air? I’ll go up and help Clay.”

Julia looked at Leigh through her tears. She couldn’t seem to grasp the meanings of Leigh’s words, simple words, regular words. They sounded like an unknown tongue.

“Julia.” Leigh laid her hand on Julia’s arm. “You know I can care for Ted, right? And you know I’ll call you if you’re needed?”

Comprehension came and Julia nodded.

Leigh gave a soft half smile. “I’m going up now. You go for a walk with David.”

“But—” Julia looked up the stairs, her face full of yearning. Then she nodded. “I need to calm down, and he needs to sleep.”

“Good girl.” David held out her jacket. When she made no move to put it on, he stuffed her arms into the sleeves and zipped it up. He grabbed his own jacket and the flashlight by the back door, then took her hand and led her through the dunes onto the beach.

She followed docilely. The waves mumbled a greeting, and the moon, low in the sky, laid a path of brilliance over the sea to their feet. They stood in silence as the water advanced and retreated. His hand tightly grasping hers felt like the only untainted thing in her world.

“David, I can’t stand the pain.” She gasped for air.

He pulled her against him and held her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and wept out more of her fear. He rocked her gently, running his hand soothingly over her hair.

“You’ll be all right,” he whispered. “You’ll be all right.”

“It hurts differently,” she said against his damp jacket, her voice hoarse from her tears. “From Will’s death, I mean. Then my chest ached, and my heart felt squeezed by a giant hand. The pain was so intense it was physical.” She leaned back and placed her fist on her chest just left of center. “Right here. I felt the hurt with every breath. But this takes my breath away. Literally. Sometimes I think I can’t breathe. My whole body is alive with pain. I can’t think. I can’t read. I can’t pray. And he hasn’t even died yet. What will the agony be then?”

He nodded. “I know.” His voice was soft and full of its own aching.

She blinked at him as a thought struck her. “And you had to deal with both at the same time, didn’t you? Leslie and Adam.” She felt an awe, an amazement that he was still functioning, still willing to get involved with people, still willing to risk caring. “David, how did you do it?”

“One minute at a time.” He brushed back a curl the brisk wind had blown across her mouth. “There’s no other way. You just hang on to God by your fingernails and live another minute. I kept repeating over and over, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you. I will never leave you nor forsake you. I will never leave you nor forsake you.’ I said it even when I felt so alone that I wasn’t sure I believed it anymore.”

Julia shivered. “Your children aren’t supposed to die before
you. It’s against the rules. And your spouse is supposed to die of old age quietly in bed.” She shivered again.

“Are you cold? Or is it emotions?”

She considered his question. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. I know where we can be warm and still watch the water and the waves and the moon.”

He led her back toward the dunes, stopping beside one of the little cliffs where a winter storm had eaten away part of a dune and left a drop of five feet. He sat and pulled her down beside him.

“This will block the wind for you.”

It was true. It was as if a little vacuum existed under the cliff, the wind whipping past without stopping to investigate the lee of sand. He put an arm around her and pulled her against his side. Still she shivered.