Be My Neat-Heart (14 page)

I
looked back as the Oasis faded into the distance. “I would never in a million years have predicted how this weekend would turn out.”

Dreamily I turned to gaze at Jared who, in sunglasses that hid his eyes, a pale blue shirt open at the collar and dark trousers, looked as though he should be driving off a movie set with Julia Roberts instead of me.

He smiled at me and my heart did a flip-flop.
Oh, boy, have I got it bad!

I may have thought I'd been in love before, but I was mistaken. Anything I'd previously experienced was a pallid version of what I feel right now. That was love. This is
Love.

Even I, who embraces the safe, secure, organized and planned, can't deny it. There's no doubt in my mind that Jared is the man God has chosen for me. God and I talked about it for most of the last twelve hours and the peace I feel is growing deeper. He is in control. And if God wants this relationship for me, then I want it, too.

Trust Me, God says, and I will work it out.

I glanced at Jared and noticed the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. “Something wrong?”

“I'm eager to apologize to Molly. I got on the Internet and looked up Attention Deficit Disorder. I saw Molly in so many of the descriptions. She has always lived full-out, brave, happy, daring…how she overcomes frustration and still manages to bring so such joy into our family and the lives of others… I think my scattered little sister might be one of my new heroes.”

“I'm sure she doesn't hold it against you that you didn't understand, Jared. She couldn't understand it, either, if no one ever diagnosed her.”

“No? But she takes responsibility for everything that goes wrong. I gave her too little credit for what has gone
right
for her.”

“You're blaming yourself pretty harshly for something we don't even know to be true,” I reminded him. “Only a professional can tell you that.”

“It doesn't matter. Molly's always looked up to me and expected me to watch out for her. I didn't want to fail her.”

My heart went all tender inside. Seeing his humility and the affection he has for his sister makes me even more confident of the wonderful husband and father he will be.

Husband and father? Whoa! Where'd that come from?

I am hook, line and sinker in love.

We were nearing the twin cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul when Jared's cell phone rang. I bit back a comment about annoying gadgets being the mosquitoes of the 21st century. I didn't want anything to break the blissful communal silence between us.

Then I tuned in to the sound of Jared's voice on the phone. It was clipped and annoyed? Angry? No, it was
fear.

“Two hours ago? Why didn't anyone call me right away? Where is she? Don't give me that, Ethan. Of course I'll go
directly there. We'll meet you at the hospital and you can take Sammi home.”

“Jared?”

He turned to me and his face was ashen. “There's been an accident. Molly…”

I recalled the trip she'd been planning with her friends.

“Lost control…had seat belt on…saved her life…unconscious…neurological emergency…haven't been able to wake her…my parents are there…”

The disjointed words came through my stunned fog. “But will she be all right?”

The look in his eyes terrified me. “Ethan says they don't know yet. Once she wakes up…if she does…” He cleared his throat. “Ethan says there's no wound on her head but a large bruise….”

I couldn't speak, not that it would have mattered. There were no words that could comfort Jared at this moment.

“Jared, slow down. The last thing your family needs is another accident.” I don't mind speed, being a downhill skier and all, but I don't like buildings blurring past me on city streets.

He took his foot off the accelerator and let the car slow into the vague vicinity of the speed limit, but his hands remained clutched, white-knuckled, on the wheel.

“Call Ethan again, will you?” he ordered. “See if anything has changed.”

Reluctantly I picked up the phone and dialed.

“Ethan here.”

“Hi, it's Sammi. Any—”

“No change. She's stable, the bones she's broken are set, and except for the huge bruise on her head, she looks pretty good. One of the others in the car has gone into surgery for internal bleeding but everyone is optimistic. The doctors won't say much about the fact that Molly is unconscious.
There is edema in the brain, and it takes time for the swelling to subside. The edema is causing intracranial pressure, which is contributing to her unconsciousness. They aren't willing to give a prognosis quite yet. They say it could be a while.” His voice wavered. “How is Jared—really?”

“As you'd expect,” I said, trying to keep from analyzing Jared in his presence.

“Is he feeling guilty?” Ethan asked unexpectedly.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I know him. He's running the tape of his life backward trying to think of every time he might have disappointed Molly and is beating himself up over it. He's also wondering how he could have prevented this, never taking into account that Molly's a grown woman and makes her own decisions. Jared has compassion and understanding for everyone but himself. He is the only one he expects to be perfect.”

“A hard task,” I murmured softly, but Jared heard me.

“What's ‘hard'? Something with Molly? Let me talk to him.” He swiped for the phone and I pulled it away.

“Don't mix driving and cell-phone conversations. And we weren't talking about Molly, we were talking about you.” I returned to the phone. “I have to go, Ethan. We'll be there in less than twenty minutes.”

I ended the call and turned to Jared. “Nothing has changed. I don't think we'll have any answers until the swelling within the skull goes down. For right now, all we can do is pray.”

After what seemed like forever, we pulled up at the hospital. I was out the car door almost before it stopped and Jared was close behind me.

A wave of hospital scent assaulted my nose as we entered. No matter what products the cleaning crews use, they can't take away the distinctive smell of disinfectants, rubbing
alcohol and the harsh chemical odor of industrial cleaning products. Even a cleaning nut like me dislikes it.

“Where is Molly Hamilton?” Jared asked the woman at the front desk.

We were directed through a maze of halls that spewed us out into a huge circular room with quick-moving nurses and a hub of machines discharging readouts. Intensive care. Ethan appeared out of a small waiting room and grabbed Jared by the shoulders.

He led us into a darkened, windowless room with straight-backed chairs ringing the walls. There were two lamps on small tables and an assortment of unappealing magazines. A TV flickered in the dimness. Wrestling was on. Someone was trying to leap off the ropes and smash an opponent into oblivion. Great viewing choice for an intensive care unit.

Then I noticed an older couple rising. The gentleman was tall and stately with gray hair and small, well-groomed mustache. He was dressed in what my mother called “church clothes,” a suit and tie, well-polished wing tips and, to prove my mother right, a church bulletin folded in half and sticking out of one pocket. The woman beside him was slender and just as dignified looking. She, too, wore church clothes—a navy suit, white blouse and extraordinarily expensive-looking pearls. Her white hair was cut short and swept back like wings from her pretty face. A face that looked just like Molly's.

Jared first embraced his mother and then his father.

“How is she?”

“The same. They'll be releasing her to a room soon.” The older man's voice held much the same timbre as Jared's.

“Shouldn't they keep her here in ICU where she can be watched more closely?”

“Apparently they don't feel the need. They can monitor her state of consciousness from her room.”

Jared opened his mouth to speak and then remembered that he had me in tow.

“Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I should introduce you. This is Sammi Smith, my…”

Whatever he was going to call me was left unsaid because his mother, Geneva, came at me with open arms.

“Molly has told me so much about you! She adores you, Ms. Smith. Why, I was at her place the other day and there was counter space, empty chairs and such an amazing difference in her attitude. You're a miracle worker!”

Don't I wish. I'd have Molly standing on her feet right now.

“Thank you. I love her, too. She's a remarkable woman.”

Jared's father, Robert Hamilton, stepped forward. “It's time we met. I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances.”

Even now, they're thinking about me.
There didn't seem to be a selfish bone running through any of Jared's family.

“I'm so sorry about this. Is there anything you can…tell us?”

“Not much. Molly's friend was driving. They hadn't gotten far out of the Cities.”

“I suppose they were hurrying,” Geneva picked up the story. “It's just like Molly and her friends to do that.”

“Apparently the driver lost control of the car. That's all we know.”

“Can I see her?” Jared asked softly. I could feel the tension he was attempting to harness in his body.

“Yes. Room 545, on the other side of the nurses' station. Just tell someone you're going in.”

Jared started for the door, then paused. “Sammi, would you like to come with me?”

I took his hand.

“Jared, is there anything I can do?”

“Just be here, Sammi. I can't string two clear thoughts together in my head right now.”

I opened my mouth to give him reassurances and closed it again. Anything I might have said would be palliative words with no corroboration. Jared deserved more than that.

Together we walked through a tangled maze of machines and wires into the cubicle where Molly lay.

M
onitors were humming and lights blinking on various machines, but the centerpiece of the room was unmoving. I had to look twice to make sure the sheet over Molly's chest was rising and falling rhythmically with her breath.

She appeared to be sleeping. But for a nasty bruise that stained the side of her face and forehead, she might have been dozing on her own couch.

Jared flinched and I felt palpable waves of dismay emanating from him. He was in more pain than Molly. Cautiously he moved forward, bent over the bed and placed his hand over her still one.

“Molly? Hey, it's Jared. How are you doing, honey?”

His tone was so gentle that I felt my heart shattering.

“Sammi and I just got back from the Oasis. It was great, sweetie, really great. You'd better pull yourself together so I can take you and Sammi back there, okay?”

He pulled a chair up to her bedside and sat down. I took another and joined him. We sat there for what seemed like hours, Jared talking to Molly as if she heard and understood his every word. He told her stories about the spa, the food, the
romance party and how we'd driven home together this morning. Remarkably, his voice was conversational, even, calm.

His face, however, belied his tone. His forehead was furrowed and a deep crease slashed itself between his eyebrows. The brackets around his mouth had grown deeply carved just since we had arrived. Still, he held Molly's hand and spoke to her gently.

Geneva Hamilton entered, put her hand on her son's shoulder and murmured, “I'd like to spend time with Molly, Jared. Why don't you and Sammi visit with Ethan for a while?”

He nodded, gave his sister's hand a squeeze and rose.

Outside the room he said, “I've read that sometimes people in that state can actually hear what's going on around them. I don't want anyone in there talking ‘about' her and not ‘to' her. What if she can hear? She would be so frightened….”

His family seemed in complete agreement without ever having discussed that strategy. I could hear Geneva telling Molly about the gardens at home. Then she began to unwind a long tale about the state of her tomatoes. She sounded as though Molly were sitting across from her listening intently.

Ethan met us outside the door to the family lounge. “Your parents haven't eaten. They were just leaving church when they got the word….” Ethan bit his lip. “Do you want to take them downstairs for lunch?”

“I need to stay here. I want to talk to the doctor.” Jared's voice was brusque and businesslike. “You and Sammi can take them.”

“I'll stay here with you,” I offered.

“You haven't eaten, either. Besides, my mother will like getting to know you.” He gave me a shadow of a smile. “It's fine. I'm okay.”

Fine? Hah!
But there was no arguing with him. Ethan shepherded us down to the nearly empty lunchroom in the bowels of the hospital.

Geneva sank into the chair Robert pulled out for her and gave a weary sigh.

“What can we do for you, Geneva?” Ethan asked. “For any of you?”

“It would be nice if you could keep my son's head screwed on straight,” Robert Hamilton stated bluntly.

“Excuse me…” I began, but Ethan seemed to know exactly what the older man meant.

“He's afraid Jared will get completely wrapped up in Molly's situation to the exclusion of everything else.” Ethan looked at Geneva. “What is it you call the two of them?”

“Identical twins born eight and a half years and a gender apart,” she supplied. “Those two watched out for and protected each other as though they were joined at the hip. It's quite remarkable, really, considering the age difference between them, but they've always been close.” Geneva's eyes grew troubled. “It's bad enough to have Molly in such a state. We don't want to have to worry about Jared, too.”

“Worry about him?” I echoed.

The elder Hamilton took my hand. “How long have you known Jared, my dear?”

Long enough to fall in love with him.

“A few weeks.”

“Then there is still much you have to discover about my son—all of it good. One of the best and most difficult things about him is his capacity for love. It takes Jared a long time to give his heart to someone, but then there's no getting it back.”

“We're afraid,” Geneva continued, “that he'll let go of everything and put all his energy into Molly's situation.” She glanced timidly at her husband. “And the doctor said he had no idea how long it might be until Molly awakens. According to him, there are many levels of unconsciousness, from coma to obtundation and lethargy. A patient's progress is
measured by an increasing awareness of stimuli. When Molly begins to emerge, she'll begin to respond to stimuli.”

And what if she doesn't?

The horrible thought stung me. I thought of Jared bent over Molly's bed. Suddenly the sweet normalcy and fragile regularity of our lives were tied to that one small frame in that large hospital bed.

Lord, what's this about? Help this family! Put Your tender, protective, healing hand on Molly. And show me my place in all of this. Father, how can I be Your light and love for these people in this troubled time?

The atmosphere seemed to lighten as we ate and I was struck by what strong, gracious people the Hamiltons are. As soon as Molly improved, things would return to normal…
normal.
I closed my eyes and sighed.

“What is it?” Ethan asked.

“I just thought of something Jared and I were discussing before we heard about the accident, something about Molly. In passing, I mentioned that some of Molly's short attention span and difficulty getting organized might be attributable to Attention Deficit Disorder. Jared, of course, began researching it on the computer this morning. He was concerned because Molly has so many of the symptoms of the disorder. If that were the case, he believes he would have handled their partnership differently, giving Molly more support in the areas she needed it. I hate to say it, but Jared was already feeling guilty over his sister before this happened.”

Ethan groaned but it was Geneva who spoke. “Jared's standards for himself are higher than he holds for any other living being.”

“It's why he's so successful and so driven,” Robert added.

“And so unforgiving of himself,” Geneva concluded.

“I can just about hear what he's thinking right now,” Ethan
said. “‘If only I'd done this…or that…or paid more attention to what was going on with Molly….'”

In other words, what I loved about him might just be his downfall.