In her dream she’d just relived Dr. Hawkins saying she had his permission to hold him accountable—then here he was, a few feet away. She smiled lazily, then sobered as she realized where she was, lying in bed with her arm around her son, who’d been so sick.
“Oh….” It was an almost silent interjection as she cautiously straightened her arm, made sure her skirt was covering her thighs, then rolled over to sit on the side of the bed. “I—didn’t know you were here,” she whispered.
His voice was equally soft. “I just arrived, and I’m glad you were able to sleep. You must have needed it.”
She stood up. “I was awake all night.”
“Well, I—uh…” He looked almost embarrassed as he picked up the ceramic train engine holding several green plants. “I hoped that maybe your son—your Michael would like this. He’s not allergic to just foliage, is he?”
This man is really ill at ease—and I’ve seen that twice today. I never suspected…. Jana held the gift in both hands. “This is lovely, and I appreciate your considering possible allergies. Several of his worst attacks followed being around Easter lilies, poinsettias and mums—and I suspect carnations, though that was only once.”
“Is there anything you can do to control it—shots or anything?”
“It was discussed the last time we were at his pediatrician’s—and we’re scheduled to see the allergist next week.” She glanced toward the calendar on the wall. “Which reminds me to call him today.”
They’d moved across the room so they wouldn’t be as apt to wake the sleeping child, and she was in the doorway when she saw Gram come around the corner. Jana hurried to meet her and put her arms around the older woman, who was asking, “How is our little sweetheart?”
“Much better! He’s still wheezing, but has been sleeping for well over an hour. He hasn’t coughed much during that time.”
“Good!” But then she cautioned, “Don’t be alarmed, though, if he does some when he gets awake.”
“I realize he’s probably continuing to produce phlegm, and his body will try to loosen it.” She briefly wondered about the best way to account for this man being here and decided on making a simple, straightforward introduction. “Gram, this is Dr. Raymond Hawkins. Professor Hawkins, I’d like you to meet Mrs. MaryJean McHenry, one of the most special people I’ve ever known.”
“Ah, yes, the biology professor,” Gram said, not looking at all surprised as she stretched out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Dr. Hawkins.”
He took the necessary step forward to clasp her hand. “And I’m honored to meet you, Mrs. McHenry.”
Gram admired the planter. “Some of our relatives were involved with railroads. There used to be a short line that ran right through Sylvan Falls, which accounts for our still having a Railroad Street.”
This definitely got his attention, for he asked a number of questions. It was some time later when Gram asked, “Have you eaten anything, Jana?”
“I was in too much of a hurry to get back here, then didn’t want to leave Michael.”
Gram stood there shaking her head. “Look, dear, you’ve got to start taking care of yourself, not only for your sake, but his.”
“Granted, but there seem to be exceptions to even the most logical of rules.” She smiled. “And, really, that little nap I had with him did me more good than a multicourse dinner.”
“Could be.” Gram wasn’t about to argue, but looked toward Ray. “Why don’t you take Jana down to the cafeteria while I’m here to stay with Michael?”
“Gram!” She was mortified at Gram’s asking him to do that. “Dr. Hawkins is a busy man. He doesn’t have to escort me downstairs!”
But Ray was saying at the same time, “That’s a great suggestion, Mrs. McHenry—especially since I also neglected to eat.”
“But—”
“I don’t enjoy always eating alone, Jana, and this is close enough to the evening meal that a sandwich or dish of ice cream later will take care of that.”
His smile was almost boyish, and there seemed to be a twinkle in his eye. Jana still didn’t feel right about this, but replied, “Wel-l-l, since we both do need to eat, I guess it makes sense to do it now. But if Michael’s at all upset about my leaving….”
Gram laughed and raised her hand as though taking an oath. “My dear Jana, I promise to take good care of him.”
“I’m sorry. You know more about babies and children than I ever will. It’s just that I was so scared last night and this morning.”
“Why wouldn’t you be? I was, too.”
Michael had flopped over on the bed to where Jana had recently been lying, and she wondered if by any chance she’d left some scent there—if it was more than happenstance that made the sleeping child seem to relax. Her arms ached with the almost irrepressible urge to gather her son close, to hold him, but she picked up her small purse and led the way from the room.
They engaged in small talk about college activities. No, she was not involved with any clubs or organizations—except for that noon meeting, which she sometimes attended when staying for an afternoon lab or to work at the library. She’d had no expectation of continuing to talk about that, but did when he asked another question. “It’s quite informal. Different people volunteer to read a scripture and share thoughts, and then there’s always some discussion and a time of prayer.”
“Do you volunteer?”
She glanced at him as she led the way into the empty elevator. “Not yet, though I should, for it’s been helpful for me.”
She wondered if he’d like it, but had no way of knowing, since he changed the subject to something he’d recently read about in an endocrinology journal as they entered the cafeteria.
She’d expected to have just a bowl of soup and a sandwich, but he talked her into a full meal when he said, “What are the odds that your little one won’t want you leaving to eat later?”
“You’re right, of course. And by then Gram will be back in Sylvan Falls.”
“You’re not going to stay here again tonight, are you?”
“I don’t expect to, not unless Michael gets worse, which could happen. His attacks usually don’t begin until after eleven, most frequently between midnight and two.”
“You plan to stay that long?”
He sounded concerned, and she shook her head. “Just until he’s asleep—if he’s still doing this well. He’s ordinarily a good sleeper, so I’m praying we’ll both rest well tonight.”
He nodded, but didn’t commit himself to praying for that, as some of her friends might have. For that matter, she had no way of knowing whether he even believed in prayer.
They were sitting across from one another at one of the small square tables when she asked, “Do you have a family?”
He shrugged. “Parents—in Wisconsin, and a sister in Pittsburgh. I don’t see as much of them as I’d like.”
“Oh?” I shouldn’t have said that—it’s none of my business.
“We’re all busy with one thing or another.” He seemed to study her before adding, “While working on my degrees, I never had much time for visiting and, though we keep saying we’re going to, we’ve sort of got out of the habit of making the effort.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I take it you have strong family ties.”
“No.” I shouldn’t have started this conversation. “We don’t.”
His brows rose, making horizontal furrows above them. “If I had a grandmother like yours, I’d count myself lucky.”
“I do count myself blessed to have Gram. She’s one of the most loving, remarkable women in the world. But she’s not….”
“She’s not…?”
Why can’t I learn to think before speaking? “It’s nothing.”
Although one part of her didn’t want to say anything more, Ray sat there waiting for her to continue. She finally murmured. “She’s not a blood relative, though I wish she were. She took me in when I needed a place to stay.”
Ray’s instincts told him not to push this, to let the matter lie, but he could not force himself to eat the food on his fork.
Her gaze had been turned downward when she said that, but lifted, perhaps reluctantly, to meet his. There was such pain there that his hand reached over to cover hers. “It’s okay, Jana. You don’t owe me explanations.”
Her lids flickered, then steadied as she drew in a quick, sharp breath and gave a nod. Neither said anything more for what seemed a long time, and then, after she asked him to pass the salt, he changed the subject to trains.
Ray inquired as to whether she’d been to Steamtown National Park, and when she answered negatively he spent much of the rest of their time together sharing what that was like and talking about specific engines. It didn’t matter right then if she was even interested; it was something to say, something to fill that dangerous bog into which they’d almost fallen.
He’d expected to go upstairs to Michael’s room with her, but as the elevator doors opened she thanked him for the gift to her son and for the meal he’d insisted on paying for even though she had stated she’d prefer doing that herself.
Well, I’ve now blown it twice today as far as she’s concerned! That was not a happy thought as the door closed behind her and he turned to cross the lobby alone. The first time had been because of superciliousness, but perhaps his inquisitiveness might be just as bad, or worse.
He considered following her, and even reached to push the elevator’s up button, but stopped in time. Gram was undoubtedly still there, her little boy might be awake—and what could he say or do to make things better, anyway? I guess the only thing is to hope for the best in class tomorrow. But if her friends are with her when she leaves, like today, it would only embarrass her if I apologize for making such a fool of myself this second time.
Gram was holding Michael on her lap, reading one of the books she’d brought. He looked over and started talking even while removing his thumb from his mouth. “Gram’s reading Mr. Hoppity’s Happiest Harvest, my extra-fav’rite special book.”
Jana ran her fingers across the top of his head, relishing the caress of the fine, golden-brown hair slipping between them. “That’s one of my favorites, too.”
Squirming around, he pointed toward the straight chair near them. “Gram can read to you, too, Mama.”
“I’d like that, but there are things I should read for my classes. If that’s all right with you, Gram.”
“I’m staying for another hour or so.” Gram smiled encouragement. “You do your thing, dear, and Michael and I will do ours, ’cause we just love to read books.”
He leaned against her shoulder and, just before his thumb returned to his mouth, agreed, “Yep, me and Gram just love reading books.”
Jana smiled at the two people she loved most in the world and carried her books and notebook to the plastic chair by the window. Thanks, God, for Michael’s being so much better, and thanks for Gram, with all her goodness and love. And please help me use this next hour or so efficiently, because I don’t know how much more time I’ll have to study.
One of the many good things about living at Gram’s was that she’d been forced to compartmentalize. There were people around all the time, and so many activities—especially with the children!—that she’d never have survived these college years had she not been able to fix her attention on just one or two things at a time, while yet not being blind to her surroundings.
She finished the reading assignments and was working on problems for statistics when Gram got to her feet and said she’d have to leave. Michael wasn’t happy about that, clinging to her and begging her to stay. It was hard for Jana not to get involved, but she was glad she’d refrained when Gram set the crying child on his bed and took both of his little hands in hers. “Michael, dear, you know I always tell you the truth, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh. But….”
“And I’ve already told you that either you will come home to be with me tomorrow, or I will come here and be with you, right?”
“Uh-huh, but…” He tried again.
“But right now, I am needed at home.”
Tears ran down his cheeks, but he nodded.
After Gram left, Jana read several more books to him then, at the beginning of the hour, checked through various TV channels until she found one suitable for her son to watch as she worked on assignments.
He pushed the evening meal away when an aide brought it, but his program was so filled with fast action that Jana was able to spoon food into his mouth without his realizing it.
She never did this at home—didn’t have to; he was an excellent eater, and nobody watched TV at mealtime. So much conversation took place around Gram’s big kitchen table that there wouldn’t be time to stare at a television screen.
They took another walk past the elevators and to the end of the long hallway. At first she tried to go slowly, not wanting increased activity to give Michael a setback, but that didn’t last long; even when several of the staff greeted him by name, he was too busy investigating gurneys, potted plants, wheelchairs and other things to remain long with anyone.
He slowed down some as they neared his room again, but he didn’t complain about being put back in his bed since she lay down beside him. This, too, she usually didn’t do, but Jana wanted to make things as easy as possible for him in this strange place. She was just starting another book when Gram’s granddaughter, Karlyn, came to visit.
Michael was yawning by the time Karlyn left. Jana explained that she’d be going home later so he could sleep better in his bed but she’d be back in the morning—probably before they brought breakfast. In the meantime, she took him to the bathroom after he drank the orange juice and ate several graham crackers brought to him by an aide, then said she’d lie beside him to read some more.
She finally stated, with a deliberately obvious yawn, that she was very tired—but did have to struggle to keep from dropping off before he did!
It was almost too dark to see the multicolored flowers of bulbs and trees and golden forsythia as Jana drove home through the late April evening. She of course recognized the cars parked by the curb in front of Gram’s house, so she knew AnnaMae and Kate had come to pick up their children.
Barb had offered to cover for Jana in giving childcare this afternoon, and it seemed almost incomprehensible that, at first, the two of them had not got along well. They were as close as sisters now, probably closer than many siblings—but then they’d been two lonely, scared, pregnant sixteen-year-olds whom Gram had taken into her home, along with the three slightly older girls in the same situation, Kate, AnnaMae and Ricki.
Barb came onto the veranda as Jana started up the walk to Gram’s huge old Victorian house. “How’s our little sweetheart?”
“Although he continues to cough and wheeze some, he seems good, and everyone thinks he’s okay. If he gets through tonight without an attack, perhaps he’ll come home tomorrow.” She climbed the front steps. “What about things here?”
“Mary has a runny nose, but seems to feel all right. I don’t think she’s coming down with a cold. And the other kids are fine.”
Jana nodded toward the cars out front. “I see AnnaMae and Kate have come for their little ones.”
“And Ricki was covering this evening, so they’ll all soon be gone.”
They entered the large front hall and were greeted by the three children. Jana laid her purse on the floor as she got down on her knees to hug them. “I missed you guys,” she said, kissing each of them.
Their mothers came from the kitchen to get the latest update on Michael before leaving for the night—and suddenly it seemed very quiet with just the three adults. Gram looked around. “It’s almost lonely with no children in the house.”
Barb nodded. “It seems eons ago when it was just you, Gram and us five teens.”
“And much longer when I was living alone here.” She sighed. “Thank goodness I didn’t fully realize what I was missing.”
Jana remembered how frightened she’d been before coming here as one of the five pregnant teens Gram had taken under her wing. At that time, it had been considered a safe haven where they could stay until their babies were born—after which each infant would go to adoptive parents.
But she didn’t want to think about that now. “To hear your family, especially your granddaughter, Andi, tell it, you kept just as busy then!”
“I enjoyed everything I was doing, but not nearly as much as having you and the other girls and the little ones around.”
Jana had no doubt that was true, and her arm slid around the older woman’s trim waist. “I got to thinking last night that what we call you is also your title, your profession. You are Gram to half the people in Sylvan Falls—but especially to us!”
“What a sweet thing to say. I don’t deserve it, but I’ll treasure it anyway.” She beamed at Jana, smiled at Barb and headed for the kitchen. “Come get a piece of apple pie, then you get to bed, Jana. I’m sure you need your rest!”
“Sounds like two wonderful ideas.” She followed Gram and Barb and thoroughly enjoyed the dessert. Getting up from the table a little later, Jana remembered to tell them, “I’m setting my alarm for the last possible moment—so don’t think I’ve overslept.”
But her final thoughts before falling asleep were about Dr. Ray Hawkins bringing the plants to the hospital for her son, and of his being so kind, so nice as they ate together.
Having planned to be in the classroom earlier than usual, Ray considered not answering the phone as he was leaving his office. But he did, and the message was important; however, he still begrudged the time.
All the students were seated before he arrived, but he had no difficulty spotting Jana, halfway back in the middle row. Laying down his books, he asked, even while walking around the front table, “I trust your son is better this morning, Ms. Jenson?”
She looked startled, and he wondered if that was because, although always willing to answer anything or talk about science, he almost always stuck to lesson material. He hoped she’d recognized this as something of a public apology on his part when she answered, “Yes, thank you. Michael’s improved so much that we hope he’ll be discharged today.”
“Good!” Ray commented, then proceeded to begin the day’s lesson.
After the class was over, Todd and Linda walked out with Jana again. Ray couldn’t control the spontaneous smile that came to his face as she passed his table—and was inordinately pleased that her responding one seemed genuine. But even with that beautiful smile of hers, I’m afraid she won’t forget yesterday. It’s not appropriate for me to ask her to have lunch with me—especially in front of her friends. Anyway, I shouldn’t even consider becoming friends with a young woman who’s the mother of a small child!
Is there a husband somewhere? Has she ever had one? I know that’s not supposed to matter anymore, but it does to me. And I don’t know a thing about small children and shouldn’t even be thinking of that child—or his mother. Which, as the day went on, he found to be a difficult resolution to keep.
“Are you staying for the meeting today, Jana?” Todd asked, walking over to Richards Hall with her.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“It’s not much more than an hour from now.”
“I know. Somehow Michael’s illness seems to have driven away other thoughts—not that God isn’t even more important, but….”
“I wasn’t being judgmental. It’s just that I was hoping you’d be there today.”
“Especially today?”
“Well, yes.” His grin was a bit lopsided. “I’m the one leading devotions.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “In that case, I’ll surely come. This will be my first time to hear you do that.”
“I’ve never volunteered before and I’ll admit to being sort of scared—at least nervous.”
“I would be, too, yet we both know there’s no one there to critique you. Everyone’s encouraging—supportive.”
“You haven’t volunteered, either.”
“And I probably won’t. Public speaking doesn’t seem to be one of my gifts.”
“I felt that way, too, then got to thinking I shouldn’t just keep receiving. It was time for giving, too.”
“Then it’s right for you,” she agreed. “But thus far I haven’t been convinced of that for me.”
She thought for a moment that he was about to argue, but they were nearing her classroom, so she gave him a smile and went inside. I know he has other friends there, but it must mean something to him for me to be supportive, too.
The professor gave a pop quiz at the beginning of class, making Jana especially grateful for having disciplined herself to do that assignment.
Class ran a bit late, so by the time she got to the lounge in Sanderson Dorm where the noon meeting was held the circle of seats was nearly full. These get-togethers were always informal. Today, like most others, the two choruses they sang were unaccompanied, yet harmonized.
Jana had been in the junior high and senior high choruses back home and had been chosen to sing solos several times—but she mustn’t think about such enjoyable things now. That was a different place and a different time; she and her parents had been on reasonably good terms then.
Before she got pregnant. Before she had to leave home. Before her comfortable world had fallen apart.
Todd asked one of the freshmen to read a chosen scripture, and a senior led in prayer. He then went directly into his fifteen-minute meditation on reaching out to others, to being a friend under all situations. He seemed to glance toward Jana more than she wished, but she considered the talk good, especially for a first one. She commended him on this before hurrying home.
Gram had brought Michael home from the hospital in mid-morning, and he was already taking his afternoon nap by the time Jana got there. Although Gram reported that he seemed to be doing all right, Jana tiptoed in to gently place her hand against his forehead and on his chest to verify that his temperature and breathing were normal.
Downstairs, she took over her shift as baby-sitter. In addition to the four children who were usually here, Gram’s great-granddaughter, Katherine, had been brought by her father, Keith.
Ricki had left for her part-time job after explaining that her daughter, Debbie, seemed more fussy than usual. “She’s not running an elevated temp or anything, and Gram and I don’t think she’s coming down with anything. She insisted she wasn’t sleepy, but you know what an agreeable doll she usually is. I put her to bed anyway and hope for your sake, as well as hers, that she’s in a better mood when she gets up.”
Gram was spending time at the library with her literacy volunteer work. She’d not done this for the last several years, but with everyone pulling together so well, she’d decided to get back to the work she so loved.
Jana opened her books on the kitchen table, realizing chances were good that at least one of the five children would soon be waking. Then she went upstairs to the room she shared with her son, opened the desk drawer as silently as possible and removed several boxes to take downstairs.
She didn’t find what she wanted in the assortment of greetings, but among her note cards was a black-and-white sketch of a steam engine pulling a coal car and an assortment of others, including passenger, box, container, flatbed and animal—and there was also, of course, a caboose.
A smile was on her face while writing the thank-you note to Ray, and she’d still heard no sounds from upstairs by the time the envelope was sealed, stamped and carried to the front porch. Today’s mail had not yet been delivered, so Jana clipped her envelope to the wall-mounted mailbox for pickup.
She disciplined herself to write a brief letter to her parents, as she’d promised herself to do each week, even though she had heard nothing from them for all these years. She always had her return address on the envelope, and none had been returned so, still hoping they were being read, she continued to write, each missive accompanied by a prayer for reconciliation.
Both Mother and Dad had told her that if she didn’t care enough for them to do as they commanded, to have that abortion, they would no longer consider her to be their daughter. However, she’d continued to inform them of most things, especially of Michael’s birth, of her graduation from high school and of being almost finished with her third year of college.
She’d sent photocopies of report cards, but those consistently above 3.5 grade point averages got no more acknowledgment than had the announcement of the birth of their only grandchild. Nevertheless, she wrote a few lines about Michael’s recent hospitalization and his being home again.
Her studying wasn’t completed, but at least she’d made a good start on the second subject before going upstairs to bring down the first two children. Everything was left on the table in case she might have a few more minutes this afternoon, although that was unlikely. Whatever was undone by then would be tackled again after the little girls went home and Michael was put to bed for the night—if she could stay awake and alert enough to do so.
Tasuta katkend on lõppenud.