Читать книгу Sacred Trust - Hannah Alexander - Страница 15
Chapter Six
ОглавлениеD ad backed the red BMW out of the drive, with Tedi safely buckled in, just like on any other school day. This day, however, Tedi was getting out of classes. For the first time in her life she would rather be going to school.
Granny Jane had been sick almost for as long as Tedi could remember, and Tedi had felt so bad for her. It hurt to watch someone suffering the way Granny Jane had suffered, and Tedi knew it had been really hard on Mom and Grandma Ivy. That’s why she had to go to this funeral. She wanted to be there for them.
“I’ll drop you off in front of the church,” Dad said as he turned onto the highway from their street.
“Fine.” Tedi didn’t look at him, but she felt him looking at her. Last night she’d hid out in her bedroom when he came home, and he hadn’t bothered her.
This morning Dad had fixed her favorite breakfast: French toast and fruit, with powdered sugar and hot maple syrup. Dad could cook when he wanted to, and this morning he’d done almost as good a job as Grandma Ivy. Almost.
“How about a trip into Springfield this weekend?” he asked. “We can go to the mall and get some summer clothes, then catch a movie, maybe do the zoo while we’re there. They’ve got a new baby elephant.”
Tedi didn’t stir from her inspection of the roadside scenery. “You go ahead, Dad. Maybe Julie would like to go.”
“Julie doesn’t like elephants. You and I do.”
Tedi shrugged. “I’m not in the mood.”
Dad sighed. He slowed the car and pulled to the side of the road. He turned on the flashers, then turned in his seat to face Tedi.
“Aren’t you even going to let me try to make up for yesterday? I should never have scared you like that.”
“You were drinking.” She watched a robin hopping along the wire fence beside the road.
“That’s no excuse.”
Tedi turned to look at him then and almost gave in at the pleading look in his eyes, the sorrowful expression on his face. But she knew that could all change in a second. She was tired of it. “I’m not excusing you, Dad. I’m telling you that your drinking scares me. I’m still scared. I don’t know when it’s going to happen again. I never know. That was a good breakfast this morning, and Springfield could be fun, but nothing makes up for being scared of my own father. You get mad too easy when you’re drinking.”
His intent blue eyes held hers for a moment. “What’ll make it up to you? How about I lay off the booze for a while?”
She bit her lip and took a deep, long breath. Here it comes. “How about I go live with Mom until you’re off the booze?” She continued to hold his gaze so he’d know she meant it.
He looked away first, but not before she saw a flash of anger in his expression. Big surprise. She braced herself for another temper tantrum.
“She doesn’t want you,” he said quietly.
Tedi caught her breath. She hadn’t been braced for that. “Why not?”
He didn’t look back at her. “She’s too busy with her job.” His voice was bitter. “Got to make the almighty buck. You’ll just slow her down.” He turned off the flashers and signaled to pull back onto the highway.
“You’re lying! If I ask her to, she’ll take you back to court for custody.”
A break came in the traffic, but Dad didn’t take it. His face lost color until it nearly matched the shade of his short, light blond hair. “She’ll be sorry if she does.” He looked down at Tedi with narrowed eyes. “Don’t forget why I have custody in the first place—mental patients don’t make good parents.”
Tedi almost said, “Neither do drunks,” but she remembered yesterday.
“And public opinion matters here in Knolls,” he continued. “She’s spent these past five years trying to rebuild her practice after the last custody battle. She won’t thank you if she loses it all again.” He pulled out onto the road at last.
Tedi said nothing more until they reached Grandma Ivy’s church—Covenant Baptist—at the edge of Knolls. Grandma and Mom stood outside the building waiting for her. She waved at them, then released her seat belt and opened the door.
Someday she would learn to shut her mouth and keep it shut, but not today. Today she was mad.
“You know, Dad,” she said as she stepped from the car, “if Mom lost her job, we’d all be in big trouble.” She slammed the car door as hard as she could and turned toward the church.
Seconds later, Dad gunned the motor. The tires spun on blacktop.
Tedi waved at her mother and grandmother and wished her father would drive out of her life forever.
Lukas Bower hated the term “backseat Baptist.” It implied a person one step away from backsliding. Although Lukas always preferred to sit at the periphery of the congregation, he by no means felt himself to be at the spiritual edge of God’s family. Just because he was shy did not mean he was not a sincere Christian.
On the other hand, he knew he had a lot of growing to do before he was a mature Christian.
It was a moot point in this church today, since this was not a worship service.
The first strains of soft organ music reminded him of the circumstances leading up to today’s funeral, and he had the typical critique session with himself. He could have shown more compassion to Ivy Richmond during Mrs. Conn’s final hour. He could have tried harder to reassure Mrs. Conn during those short moments of lucidity—if indeed she had truly been lucid.
He could not, however, have been more aggressive with the code. Ivy Richmond probably disagreed, but he could do nothing about her sentiments, much as he would like to. She obviously possessed a great deal of power at the hospital, and he didn’t have enough insight into her character to know how she might play that power. She was strong willed, much like another, younger woman with power whose influence had affected his career with devastating ease. Best not to allow his thoughts to wander in that direction.
Lukas couldn’t decide whether to approach the Richmond ladies with his condolences after the service or to leave them in peace today. The latter course looked more favorable as more and more people filled the auditorium, and the old, familiar prickling of self-consciousness made him wonder why he had even bothered to come. No one would have expected him to. He’d lost other elderly patients and hadn’t felt it necessary to see them off. Doctors didn’t do this kind of thing, especially not for someone they didn’t even know.
Dr. Mercy Richmond, however, was a colleague, and although she had covered her feelings well on the day of her grandmother’s death, he had identified with her loss. He’d had several recollections of his mother’s death three years ago. Maybe that was why he was here.
A shadow loomed low outside the window near his seat, then pulled up at the last second—a robin on a strafing run. Her aerodynamics put modern technology to shame, just as God’s design of the human body made modern medicine look like kids playing with a chemistry set from Toys “R” Us. Lukas felt that way sometimes, as if he were playing games with the lives of his patients. But he wasn’t playing. Some people had even complained that he took things far too seriously, and perhaps they were right. But how could he behave any other way?
The robin sidled along the roof guttering, oblivious to Lukas and the rapidly filling auditorium. She used her beak to toss rotted leaves out onto the yard. Then she selected some good stems she could carry and flew to a neighboring tree.
Maybe Lukas could entice the robins to clean out the guttering on his new house. Guess one could say the guttering had gone to the birds, he spent so little time there. He’d never been good at home maintenance, mostly because he seldom paid attention to his surroundings. He’d spent too much time in hospitals these past few years. But home was lonely and had been for a long time.
He needed to force himself to get out and meet people, take part in some activities, find something that would interest him in community service. Knolls was a nice, peaceful little town, complete with a town square that surrounded the courthouse. As a center of industry, Knolls drew people from the surrounding area for employment. The population nearly doubled on weekdays, thus increasing the need for more restaurants and shopping centers—and a full-time physician in the hospital emergency room to take care of accidents.
“Dr. Bower?”
Lukas looked up with a start to find Lauren McCaffrey standing expectantly beside the pew where he sat.
“Yes?”
“May I sit here?” She gestured around the nearly full sanctuary. “There aren’t many places left.”
He couldn’t help a slight hesitation before scooting over. She took the place he vacated while he struggled to hide his discomfort with a smile.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she murmured under cover of the organ music.
He raised a brow at her in query.
“Everyone knows you didn’t hit it off with Ivy.”
“I don’t think there’s a problem just because—”
The funeral director chose that time to usher in the family.
It was a small group, and since this was a Baptist church and not a funeral home, there was no private room for grieving. The family consisted of both Richmond women and a little girl with long, chocolate-brown hair and serious brown eyes who looked like a small reproduction of Mercy. Mercy, in turn, looked like a younger version of Ivy. Dr. Jarvis George accompanied the ladies.
Dr. George presented another reason for Lukas to keep his mouth shut, his head down, and get out as soon as the funeral ended. The man had made his antipathy to Lukas quite obvious, and since he held the directorship for the emergency room, he was Lukas’s immediate supervisor. Not a good situation.
“Dr. George was partners with Ivy’s late husband, Dr. Cliff Richmond,” Lauren volunteered quietly. “He’s always been close to the family.”
Lukas nodded. Just great.
“Poor Tedi,” Lauren whispered.
In spite of himself, Lukas raised a questioning brow.
“Mercy’s daughter,” Lauren explained, leaning closer. “The little girl. She’s ten, and she’s a darling, very precocious. Her dad’s not a darling, and he’s had custody since the divorce five years ago. He doesn’t mind causing trouble for Dr. Mercy, and he isn’t above dragging Tedi into it to keep Mercy from defending herself.”
Lukas cleared his throat. “Um, perhaps I don’t need to know this.”
“If you don’t, you’ll be the only person in the county who doesn’t. Dr. Mercy doesn’t smile and laugh like she used to, and I miss that. She used to be a warm, outgoing lady, always ready with a joke or a one-liner to make the patients laugh and relax.”
Lukas glanced sideways at Lauren. She wasn’t exactly a gossip. She was just filling him in on some inner workings of the community she apparently felt he needed to know. He didn’t feel the same way.
“Ivy’s kind of a loose cannon,” the nurse continued, apparently unaware of Lukas’s discomfort with the conversation. “Everyone loves her, just like they did her mother, but she can sometimes go off on a harebrainer. Three years ago she decided she wanted to backpack the Appalachian Trail.”
“And did she?”
“She hiked for two weeks and got through part of Georgia before she got a stress fracture in her left leg and had to call Mercy. As usual, Mercy flew to the rescue. Ivy can be outspoken about a lot of things, and she takes a special interest in the hospital since she helps support it. The problem is, she sometimes throws her financial weight around. I think she means well, but the administration has trouble convincing her to trust them and keep out of politics.” Lauren paused and waved at someone across the aisle.
Lukas was rescued from any more information by the pastor, who rose from his seat on the stage and bowed his head to pray.
Mercy stood for a moment at the casket after the service, tears sliding down her cheeks. She heard Tedi sniffling beside her and laid an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.
“I can’t believe he came,” Mercy heard Ivy mutter as they filed out of the church behind the casket.
“Why not, Mom?” The question came out more sharply than Mercy had intended. Ivy Richmond was one of the most stubborn people in Knolls, and she wasn’t afraid to express her views. She was obviously still laying blame at Dr. Bower’s feet for Grandma Jane’s death. “He seems to be a caring doctor, and he was very concerned about Grandma. He’s not her murderer.”
Ivy shushed Mercy, then glanced pointedly at Tedi, who walked ahead of them.
Mercy shrugged. “Just because the two of you disagreed on ideology doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. May I remind you I agreed with him.”
“You didn’t try to force me or manipulate me into changing my mind. Besides…you don’t understand my reasoning. Not really.”
“You expect a stranger to understand something your own daughter doesn’t?”
Tedi glanced up at her mother as they reached the vestibule. “It’s because Granny Jane wasn’t saved, Mom. Grandma Ivy was concerned for her soul.”
Mercy sucked in her breath in a sigh of irritated frustration. That again. This Christian business was just going too far, and Ivy never wasted a moment in her attempts to try to indoctrinate Tedi into every aspect of it.
As they turned to greet the first of the funeral attendees, Mercy had no time to comment.
This part of the funeral procession was the most trying to Mercy, as it had been five years ago at Dad’s funeral. As with Dad, it looked as if the whole town had shown up to pay their “respects.” Mercy had learned long ago not to trust what people said to your face. At times like this, they were all high on emotionalism. Try them later, when you were fighting for custody of your child and needed a friend, or you lost your practice and needed patients.
She saw Dr. Bower coming toward them, walking beside Lauren McCaffrey. He probably didn’t realize it, but his expressive face showed his discomfort clearly. So why was he here? He didn’t even know Grandma. And he didn’t seem like the politicking type.
He took Mercy’s hand gently. “Again, Dr. Richmond, I’m sorry.” He seemed sincere, his clear blue eyes steady and earnest as he spoke. When he reached Ivy he hesitated.
To Mercy’s surprise, Mom took his hand. “Thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to attend Mother’s funeral.”
If he caught the sarcasm in her voice, he didn’t show it.
Then Jarvis spotted him. “Hello, Dr. Bower. Who’s watching the shop?”
“Dr. Camp agreed to spell me for a couple of hours. Today’s his day off.”
“You might consider going through me next time.”
Jarvis’s tone held no rancor, but Mercy tensed. She would not allow Jarvis to reprimand one of his staff right here at her own grandma’s funeral.
“Sorry, Dr. George,” Dr. Bower said quietly. “I tried to contact you.”
“No harm done. Camp’s a good doc.”
To Mercy’s surprise, Jarvis shook the younger man’s hand and even smiled, though it looked more like a grimace.
Later, as the four of them rode in the limousine to the cemetery, Mercy overheard her mother speaking to Jarvis quietly under cover of the soft gospel music that floated over them.
“What’s up between you and Dr. Bower?” Ivy asked. “You waiting for him to hang himself?”
Jarvis tugged at the collar of his starched white shirt—probably the only starched shirt he had. “He’s too smart for that. Do you know he ranked third in his class when he graduated from Kirksville?”
“You checked his personnel file?”
“Yes, and I called Cunningham today to find out more about the little contretemps Sal mentioned to us yesterday. I have an old friend who works there. Nurse. Great gal.”
“And she told you about Dr. Bower?” Ivy asked.
“She told me what she knew, which wasn’t much, except that about the rank, and the fact that Bower never dated, had very little social life at all, and spent most of his spare time—which was rare—at the hospital working and learning. She liked him. I mean, she really liked him.”
Mercy suppressed a smile at the hint of frustration in Jarvis’s voice. Ivy’s brows rose in surprise. “So isn’t that good news?”
“Of course it is,” he said just a little too brightly.
“Are you still going to check him out?”
“June will call me when she has more info. She said something about a lawsuit, but no explanation.” Jarvis reached over and patted Ivy’s hand. “We’ll get this thing figured out.”
“Mom?” Tedi said softly, just loud enough for Mercy to hear.
Mercy leaned sideways and put an arm over her daughter’s shoulders. “Yeah?”
“How’s…the practice going?”
“Great, honey. Just great.”
“You still doing some E.R. shifts to fill in on your days off?”
“Some. Not as many since the new full-time doctor joined us.”
“Oh.” Tedi frowned and glanced out the window for a moment.
Mercy watched her daughter, whose dark eyes were even darker than usual. Mercy hadn’t forgotten the slammed car door and the squeal of tires on blacktop when Theo dropped Tedi off at the church before the funeral.
“Everything okay at home?” Mercy asked.
Tedi grimaced, still looking out the window.
Mercy repressed the urge to demand what that puny excuse for a father had been doing to make Tedi so unhappy. Just watching her daughter made her want to choke Theodore.
“So I guess you’re pretty busy,” Tedi said at last.
Mercy quirked a brow at her. “Busy? Do you have something in mind? You know I’m never too busy for you, Theadra Zimmerman.”
Tedi made a face at the sound of her full name. “Oh, I don’t know…maybe we could go to Springfield some weekend. You know, like to the zoo and to a movie or something.”
“Sounds great. And maybe we could go to Bass Pro Shop and eat at Hemingway’s.”
“Yeah, and hike at the nature center and watch the deer and squirrels and birds eat. And maybe we could even take a whole week and drive down to the Boston Mountains in Arkansas.”
“We could camp out,” Mercy said, playing the little game they had always played, with their dreams and wishes getting bigger and bigger and more unreachable. “And maybe we could take a whole month and go to the Grand Canyon.” She had forgotten how heartbreaking this little game could become as she named the things she most wanted to do with her daughter.
“And no one could find us, except we would know where we were,” Tedi added. “And maybe you could set up practice in Arizona, and we could call Grandma, and she could come and join us, but no one else would know.”
“Maybe we could, honey.” Mercy leaned closer and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “First we’ll concentrate on getting to Springfield. Do you want to talk about it?”
Tedi turned and looked seriously into Mercy’s eyes. The all-too-grown-up expression made Mercy’s throat choke with tears.
“Would you, Mom? Would you do it for me?”
Mercy’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with the person I love more than anyone on earth?”
Tedi shrugged. “I don’t know…I guess I thought you might be too busy.”
“Where did you get that—” Mercy paused, and a flash of fresh anger accosted her. She reached out and touched her daughter’s shining dark brown hair. “Tedi, don’t ever let anyone tell you that I don’t have time for you or that I don’t love you.” The anger grew. The day’s grief and the past weeks of struggle with Grandma’s cancer had taken their toll. Mercy struggled for a moment with tears; then she gave up and let them fall.
Tedi watched Mercy for a moment, her own eyes growing larger. She reached a hand up and caught a tear and held her mother’s gaze. “Don’t cry, Mom. Really. It’s going to be okay.”
Mercy pulled a Kleenex tissue out of her purse and blew her nose. Her own daughter shouldn’t be having to comfort her.
To Mercy’s surprise, Tedi’s spirits seemed to lift after that. She smiled when her grandmother and Jarvis teased her, and the smile was real. It was as if Mercy had reassured her of something vital. The mood relaxed until they reached the cemetery.
As the limousine driver held the door for Ivy, she clutched her chest and stumbled.
Mercy scrambled forward. “Mom!”
“Grandma!” Tedi cried.
Ivy caught herself against the seat as her face grew pale. Jarvis eased her back.
“Relax, it’s okay,” she said. “I just got a little dizzy.” She breathed deeply through her nose, then exhaled through her mouth. “It’s okay.”
“You grabbed your chest, Mom. I saw you grab you chest. Does it hurt? What’s wrong?” Mercy demanded.
Jarvis leaned toward Ivy. “You weren’t feeling well yesterday, were you? You mentioned chest congestion. Are you still feeling ill?”
“Apparently so,” Ivy snapped.
“Mother, why haven’t you seen a doctor?” Mercy asked.
“Very funny. I’ve seen more doctors in the past two days—”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Mercy’s voice carried more volume than she’d intended, and other arrivals at the cemetery turned to look through the open limousine door with concern. She lowered her voice. “How long has this been going on?”
“For pete’s sake, don’t lecture me like a—”
“Stop it!” came a ten-year-old voice.
All three adults turned in time to see Tedi’s eyes fill with tears. Her lower lip quivered. “Grandma, you’re scaring me.”
Mercy quickly wrapped her arms around her daughter. “It’s okay, honey. You know how stubborn your grandma can be sometimes.” She cast a reproachful look at her mother, who did not hold her gaze. Good. She felt guilty. “Now that we know she’s sick, we’ll take care of her. I know she doesn’t want you to worry. Do you, Grandma?”
“No.”
Tedi sniffed and smeared tears over her face with the back of her hand. “But what’s wrong, Grandma?”
The color had already begun to return to Ivy’s cheeks. She eased herself back more comfortably on the velour seat. “Nothing serious, I’m sure, Tedi. Sometimes I just get the hiccups, but it isn’t in my throat. It’s deeper in my chest.”
“Do you think it’s your heart?” Fresh tears formed in Tedi’s eyes. She’d heard her mom talk too many times about heart attacks and the dangers of heart disease. Mercy wished she’d never discussed the subject in front of her.
“I don’t know, honey,” Ivy said.
“We’ll know soon enough,” Mercy said. “Mom, we’re going straight to my office as soon as we leave here.”
“No, we aren’t. I don’t feel it’s ethical for a daughter to treat her own mother.”
“Then we’ll go to my office,” Jarvis said. “You’re not getting out of this, Ivy Richmond.”
“And you’re not getting your stethoscope on me, either, Jarvis George. I’ll go to an unbiased doctor who doesn’t know me and doesn’t have preconceived ideas about the care I should receive. The two of you would have me trussed up like a full backpack and never let me out of the house again.” Her color continued to improve, and Mercy relaxed. Tedi’s tears had done more than any amount of browbeating could have done, and whatever was wrong with Mom, she was recovering for now.