Читать книгу Ties That Bind - Marie Bostwick - Страница 19

I stood with my back against a pistachio-colored wall, taking a moment to catch my breath while Margot and her parents were in one of the administrative offices, filling out paperwork. My cell phone went off, vibrating in my pocket and making me jump. Looking down at the screen, I was happy to see the words “Mom and Dad.”

Mom was on the kitchen phone and Dad on the bedroom extension. They’d called to wish me merry Christmas and get the reviews on my sermon, but I didn’t want to talk about that. The only thing on my mind was the Matthews family.

“It was so awful. She was alive when the ambulance arrived, but there was nothing they could do. Apparently, the car skidded off the road and over an embankment. It was a back road, not very well traveled. They think she was trying to take a shortcut so she’d get there faster. There’s no way of knowing for sure how long the car was down there before someone noticed the broken guardrail and stopped to investigate. Could have been hours. Anyway, by the time they found her …”

“Oh, that poor family,” my mother murmured. “To lose a child and a grandchild …”

“No,” I corrected her. “Only Mari was killed. The granddaughter is alive. At least for now. The doctor didn’t offer much hope of her surviving the night.”

“Have they seen her yet?”

“She’s in intensive care. They have strict rules about visitors. I don’t suppose it makes any difference. She’s unconscious.”

“Even unconscious people are sometimes aware of the presence of others,” my father said. “If the worst happens, it would be a great comfort to the family to see her now. At least they’d have the memory of seeing their granddaughter alive, and knowing she died surrounded by people who love her.

“Encourage the doctors to let them see her, Pippa,” he continued, using his pet name for me. “A minister can have a lot of influence inside the walls of a hospital.”

“True,” I said, remembering how a quick flash of my white collar got Margot and her folks past the security desk. “I’ll do that. But I feel at such a loss. Acing three sections of systematic theology does not prepare you for something like this. I feel like I’m flying by the seat of my pants here ….”

“Get used to it. The feeling never really goes away. Just don’t try to come up with any words of wisdom,” my father cautioned. “That’s the last thing they need or are prepared to hear right now. Just be there for this family. That’s all for now. Later, things will get more complicated. Death, especially of an adult child, always comes with baggage. But you can do this, Pippa. If not, God wouldn’t have put you there.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Call and give us an update when you can. In the meantime, we’ll be praying.”

I heard the sound of urgent footsteps coming down the corridor and looked up to see the nurse in the cranberry sweater, Polly, coming toward me. “Hey, I have to go, but I’ll call you later. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” they chorused. I ended the call just as Polly reached me, a little out of breath.

“Father Clarkson …” She stopped herself and shook her head. “Sorry, I’m Catholic. Your collar keeps throwing me. Reverend Clarkson, I think you’d better come down to the office.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“I don’t know. A policeman came looking for the Matthews family. He’s talking to them right now. I just thought you might want to be there.”