Anchored: A Lake Series Novella (7 page)

I
tell Will about their hot air balloon business and Rachel’s
family’s hundred-year-old property. I explain that they’ve
got a buyer for the business and that Rachel is going to sell the
family house and land, too, in order to cover the medical bills.

“That’s
crazy,” Will exclaims.

“That’s
what I thought, too. Rachel said that’s what they wanted, but I
think it’s more what Michael wants,” I say.

“Well,
I’ll just have our account wire the money into their accounts,”
he says matter-of-factly.

“You
can’t do that, Will.”

“Why
not? They need the money or Rachel is going to be destitute after
Michael dies.” Will’s face is scrunched in confusion. For
him it seems like an easy solution, which it is. But we still can’t
do it.

“Because
you can’t ride up on your white horse with a bushel of money to
throw at them. You father threw money around and thought everyone
needed to just be grateful for it. People have a choice, a free will.
If this is what they want to do, then we have to let them do it.”

Will
thinks for a few minutes before he speaks. I study him in the silence
and in the dim light of the moon and passing headlights. He is
distressed. I know Will’s heart is full of goodness. It pains
him to not be allowed to help someone in need. That was kind of the
whole point in keeping the money left to him by his father. He didn’t
want it at first, but when he realized the good he could do with it
the game changed. That’s why when they found the bag of money I
kicked into Lake Norman, Will let the Town of Davidson use it for
refurbishing the Nature Preserve.

Since
we got married, we’ve helped fund local and global
organizations that are working to change lives. Our greatest joy
comes from giving. That’s what makes this so difficult for
Will.

“Well,
maybe we can change their minds. I’m not going to force them,
but I am going to strongly suggest they accept our help. I can’t
just walk away.”

“I
know. And that’s why I love you.”

The
last time I was in this hospital I left with two amazing gifts.
Today, though, there are no balloons or flowers in sight, which is
typical for the ER waiting room.

Will
lets the receptionist know that we are there for Michael Meadows and
we settle in for an undetermined amount of time. Wes arrives a few
moments after us, finishing a call on his cell.

“So?”
he asks, taking a seat across from us.

“They’ll
let us know when there’s something to tell,” Will
replies.

“I
called Rachel. I didn’t think she should wait until they
treated him to know he was here. It’ll take her a while to get
here, too, so I figured the sooner she knew, the better,” Wes
tells us.

“Thank
you. I’m sure she appreciated it,” I say.

“At
first she was a little skeptical. I had to explain to her that
Michael had come to see you, which she didn’t know.”

“Geez!
Doesn’t anybody tell their spouse where they are anymore?”
Will laughs.

“Says
the man who dropped off the face of the earth and faked his death.”
I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Point
taken.”

“Anyway
… she’s on her way now.” Wes pulls out his phone
and sends a few texts to let his staff know he’ll probably be
late tomorrow.

Mom
and Eliana take turns texting Will and me with questions and updates
on our sleeping children. I text Mom back and thank her and Eliana
for stepping in so quickly, and apologize for not knowing when we’ll
be home. That is, of course, not an issue for them. They’re
very good grandmothers.

We
sit there for another forty-five minutes before Rachel arrives. In
that time we hear absolutely nothing from anyone.

“I’m
so sorry,” I say to her. “I wish I had something to tell
you.”

“It’s
okay.” Rachel sits down and her burdens seem to ease off of her
shoulders. I watch her face as she looks at us and it occurs to me
that maybe she hasn’t had anyone by her side during these last
eight months.

“Rachel,”
I begin gingerly. “Is there anyone you’d like us to call
for you? Maybe a few friends of yours and Michael’s?” I
have a feeling I know what she’s going to say, but I don’t
want to put the words in her mouth.

“No.
There’s no one. We don’t really have good friends. Anyone
we told about the cancer got scared off once Michael started showing
how sick he was. It’s amazing how busy people suddenly become.
It didn’t take long for Michael to decide we weren’t
telling anyone else.” She looks down with lonely eyes. I can’t
believe Michael has confined her to this prison. He’s dying of
cancer and she hasn’t been allowed to tell anyone?

Oh
.
It occurs to me that Michael is angry that Rachel broke through their
cone of secrecy, but angrier that when she did it, she came to the
Meyers
.
It’s no wonder he’s so angry. We
have
to get him to reconcile with Will.

“Michael
Meadows?” The nurse calls his name from the door in search for
his family. Rachel stands up and bolts to her. Their voices are low,
so their conversation is nothing but a melody of hums and whispers
from where we are sitting.

“She
said he’s stable but that he’s suffering from orthostatic
hypotension. He’s basically really dehydrated, and I’m
guessing he got pretty worked up tonight.” Will gives her a
small nod to confirm her suspicions. “They’re
moving him to a room on the oncology floor so they can get some
fluids in him and monitor him at least overnight. The nurse said to
give them about thirty minutes before he’s ready to see
anyone.”

“That’s
good news,” I say softly.

“Well,
um,” Will begins. He’s fighting the urge to say something
about helping them financially, but I can see the wheels in his head
considering what I said earlier in the car. “Please don’t
hesitate to contact us. We’re here to help in any way we can.”
He gives her a final nod and we begin to move toward the door.

“Don’t
leave.” Her words are quick and distressed. She is standing
there begging us not to leave her in the loneliness she has been
living. “Michael may not like it, but we need you. And I’m
not talking about the money. I don’t even care about that. I
just … I can’t do this by myself anymore, and you’re
the only people who seem to care. You could have just let the
ambulance bring him here, but you came, too. And then you stayed.”
She wipes a tear that hadn’t yet rolled down her face quite yet
and takes a breath. “You’re all I have.”

I
look at Will who is trying to hold back the emotions being stirred up
by Rachel’s request. While what she’s said is beautiful,
I just hope Will understands that she’s not speaking for
Michael. She’s speaking for herself, of her own need for family
during this time. The hope, though, is that she will be able to
express this same passion to Michael as she has to us.

“Of
course we’ll stay,” Will tells her. “Wes, do you
think Eliana will mind staying overnight? You’re all welcome
to, since I don’t know when we’ll be home.”

“Are
you kidding? She’s probably already set herself up in one of
the guest rooms.” Wes smiles and pats Will on the shoulder.

“Thank
you, Mr. Furtick,” Rachel says to him. “I appreciate you
calling me when you did.” I chuckle to myself at her calling
him
Mr
.
Furtick. It makes him sound so much more official.

When
we get to Michael’s room, his nurse is pressing some buttons on
a machine that looks to be attached to him. It beeps several times
and then flashes a green light that eventually stays solid just as
she leaves.

At
first Michael only sees Rachel. I know this because his eyes open
wider and he smiles at her the way Will smiles at me. It’s easy
to see how much he loves her. If he only knew how hurt and alone she
felt.

“Hi,
honey,” he says just before his smile fades. “What are
they doing here?”

“They
came to make sure you were alright … to make sure
I
was alright,” she tells him. Michael looks at her and then
looks at us. He shifts in the bed, steadying himself before he speaks
again.

“Thank
you,” he says from behind gritted teeth. “I appreciate
you staying with Rachel but, as I’ve been trying to make
abundantly clear, we don’t need anything from you. Leave.”

“No.”
Rachel’s voice is strong and determined.

“Rachel,
I told you how I felt about them.”

“And
now I’m going to tell you how I feel about them.” She
lifts her chin confidently, knowing that Michael is a captive
audience in his hospital bed. “Quite frankly, none of us knows
each other at all. But even though they don’t know us, and both
of us barged in on them—me begging so rudely for money to help
us out of the hole, and you causing a scene big enough to put you in
the hospital— they’re here. They didn’t just watch
the ambulance drive away with you in it. And they didn’t wait
for the hospital to call me. They came here to support us. They
called me before the hospital would so that I could get here sooner.”
She takes Michael’s hand in hers and soothes her tone. “Now,
I know what you’ve said about Gregory Meyer. But I also know
that we’ve never known a sour thing to be said about Will or
Layla. And after what they did tonight, don’t you think you owe
it to them to stop being such a hard ass?”

The
nurse from earlier comes to the door, interrupting the awkward
silence that now fills the spaces between us. “Mrs. Meadows?
Can I borrow you for a minute? I just have a few things for you to
sign.”

“Of
course,” she answers. She raises an eyebrow at her husband as
if to tell him to play nicely. Then she gives us a nod as she leaves
the room. The silence continues for a moment, no one sure who should
speak first.

“I’m
trying to figure out what I did to make you dislike me so much,”
Will says. He’s gripping my hand tightly and I think it’s
because he’s trying not to cry. When Michael turns his head and
doesn’t answer, Will releases my hand and takes a few steps
closer, landing at the foot of Michael’s bed. “If this is
about our father …”

“That
man was not my father!” Michael shouts as he snaps his head
back to Will.

Will
is taken aback, but recovers quickly because he fully understands
Michael’s sentiment. “I get it. He wasn’t really my
father either.”

“Oh,
please! Don’t give me that. He didn’t put you or your
mother out on the street. He stayed, raising you your whole life,
which is why I don’t trust you. You stayed a bit too close to
that tree for my comfort.” Michael’s face is hard, his
nostrils flaring with anger.

There
really must be something about how a boy sees his father. Will’s
half-sisters were much quicker to separate Will from his father.
Maybe it was because the parent they identified with taught them how
to be strong, independent women. Michael and Marcus never had a real
father to teach them what it meant to be a real man. Will had to
consciously push through and make the choice every day that he didn’t
want to be like Gregory Meyer.

“Just
because he was there doesn’t mean he was a father. I’d
rather have had no father than to have had him,” Will counters
sternly. He softens his tone. “Is that what you’re
worried about? You think I’m going to be like him?”

Michael
chews the inside of his cheek for a moment, contorting his mouth in
contemplation.

“It
all happened so fast. Finding out about you and the others, and then
learning about this man that had hurt my mother so badly. A man that
was technically my father. The more I heard about what he had done to
so many people, the more concerned I was that I was genetically
destined to be like him. And then I thought, what would you be like,
the guy who was actually raised by that monster? I just couldn’t
risk that.”

“Well,
you found out that
you
are
nothing
like him,” I said.

“It
would kill me to hurt Rachel the way he hurt my mother. The way he
hurt your mother.” Michael looks at Will, his eyes beginning to
soften.

“And
I can testify that Will is nothing like his father at all. He never
has been.”

“I
had the same worries that you did. I didn’t know if somewhere
down the line I was going to find out I was genetically predisposed
to being a douchebag,” Will chuckles. “We make our own
destiny, Michael. We decide what kind of men we want to be. It looks
like character and integrity won out for both of us.”

“I
don’t know …” Michael muses. He looks past us and
into the hall where Rachel is standing with the nurse. She has a
folder open in front of Rachel and is pointing at several things with
a pen. Rachel leans her elbow on the high counter and puts her head
in her hand, alternating disbelieving shakes of her head with nods of
understanding.

“I
think it’s worth starting fresh before it’s too late.
It’s at least worth doing for her.” Will and Michael lock
eyes and I see the first signs of understanding each other. They both
love their wives so much that they would do anything for them.

Rachel
returns with a stack of papers in her hand. She’s tried to
freshen herself up, but the redness of her eyes and the apples of her
cheeks reveal that she has most definitely been crying. I don’t
know if the nurse was discussing Michael’s prognosis or their
outstanding balance. Either way, her state makes me want to beg
Michael to let us help them. It doesn’t seem fair to Rachel to
leave her with nothing when he’s gone. She’ll have no
family business or family home. No place to exist and remember the
wonderful life she shared with Michael. Sure, she’ll take the
pictures of them and hang them in a new space of some little
apartment she’ll occupy on her own, but it won’t be the
same. Michael will have never been there. She will never wake up in a
bed there and remember what it felt like to wake up next to Michael
there. She will exist in an empty place.