Be My Neat-Heart (17 page)

Z
elda has a secret life and it involves a mouse.

No, not
that
kind of mouse. Either she's been researching a kitty dating service on the Internet or ordering catnip by the bale and giving parties while I'm not home. What else could explain her new fascination with my computer?

She's become remarkably computer-literate. I download photos of Zelda and Imelda and use them as screensavers. First I'd found her sitting on my computer chair watching the slide show. Then I realized that when the screen went dark and the computer tried to “sleep,” she'd bat the mouse with her paw to wake it up again. She sat with Imelda for hours watching their own pictorial history.

Then, just to give her something new to think about, I added a few photos of strange cats. A Persian, a Siamese and a Russian blue.

It didn't go over well. I think they must have been too hairy for her because I came home to find the cord to my mouse chewed through and the screen dark. I should have learned, but I put a few doggie portraits on so that at least Imelda could continue enjoying her hobby. A sheepdog, a pointer and a
setter didn't work well, either. Apparently Imelda doesn't go for the blue-collar, working-dog class. She decimated the cord from my computer tower to the wall plug.

It was after that that I realized they'd somehow called up e-Bay. Maybe it was an accident that happened while Zelda was tripping across the keys, but I've begun shutting my computer down while I'm at work. It's a little freaky. Those two are trouble enough without access to the Internet. Next thing you know, they'd figure out how to get into Paypal and have pet toys and rhinestone collars delivered to the house.

I was brushing Imelda's teeth when I heard the doorbell ring. I went to open the door with the little rubber nubbin-studded doggie toothbrush on my index finger and was so surprised to see Jared outside the hospital, I nearly poked his eye out with the thing.

“What are you doing here?” I said, pointing my encased finger at him.

“I want to talk to you, Sammi. May I come in?” He sounded serious, but that's a difficult frame of mind to retain when my pets are in comic mode.

Imelda ran to within a foot or two of him and smiled.

“What's she baring her teeth at me for? I thought she liked me.”

“She does. She's just a canine showing you her clean canines.” I waggled my finger. “We got a new toothbrush at the vet today.”

He shook his head wearily. “I don't know what planet you three come from sometimes. What's the breed of this dog again? A poo-triever?”

“A labradoodle. And don't make fun of Imelda. She's very sensitive.”

At that moment, Zelda, who was sitting regally in the window, gave a magnificent meow of greeting. Jared took one
look at her ears, which looked especially large and translucent in the light, and asked, “Is she waiting for the mother ship to come and take her away?”

“If you can't say anything nice about my pets, don't say anything at all,” I said, smiling. It was so wonderful to have him here. “Coffee?”

“No. I've had my regulation thirty cups of hospital mud already today.”

“Milk? Antacid? I've got fresh chocolate chunk walnut cookies.”

He looked both pleased and relieved. “Sure.”

I put the pitcher and the cookies on the table and he ate and drank like a starving man. Finally, sated, he looked up. His eyes were bleary and his five o'clock shadow was going on about 11:00 p.m.

“You know just what to do to make me happy, don't you, Sammi?”

“I'd like to think so.”

I didn't expect my comment to bring shots of pain to his eyes.

“That's why this hurts so much.”

I felt a surge of panic in my gut. “What are you talking about?”

“Sammi, you are the most amazing woman in the world but you have come into my life at the worst possible time. You ought to be courted and romanced. All I've been able to do is hope you'll come by the hospital so I can just see you. You've been doing all the giving, and I have been willing to suck you dry just to have you near me. It's not fair. I've been taking you for granted and it's not right. You deserve so much more.”

There was an emotional hitch in his voice that frightened me. Whatever conclusions Jared had come to, I had a hunch I wasn't going to like them.

“I can't see my way clear for anything right now, not until
we have a picture of what will happen with Molly. I can't think, I don't sleep…” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Don't hang around waiting for me to figure this out, Sammi. I want so much more for you.”

I stared at him in shock and horror. Just like that? Out of the goodness and generosity of his heart he's setting me free? This is the most altruistic reason I've ever heard in a breakup with a man—and also the most ridiculous.

But he means it! He honestly thinks that the most loving act is to send me on my way.

“No, Jared. I couldn't. I wouldn't…”

But the expression on his face told me that, as far as he was concerned, I had no other choice.

This can't be what You had planned, Lord, is it?

I felt tears begin to stream down my face.

Okay, God, I'm speechless. Give me the words You want me to say.

“Y
ou nincompoop!”

They weren't exactly the words I'd expected from on high, but they got the job done.

Jared blinked and stared at me.

“You sweet, misguided, mistaken man! Freeing me from you would be like opening the door for a bird in a gilded cage,” I blustered. “What if the bird likes it just where she's at? What if the cage that you find so confining is the cage she considers ‘home'? What if it's where she thrives and sings and feels pampered and loved? Why on earth would a bird like that want to leave? And what kind of a bully does it take to force that bird out into a harsh place she doesn't want to be?”

I was building up a head of steam which finally erupted in a noisy bellow.

“So Jared Hamilton,
quit rattling my cage!
”

Spent, I sat down. I asked for a word from God, and He certainly gave me one.

I looked into Jared's startled countenance and realized that anything else I might have said, pleaded, begged, lectured or
counter-offered would have been rejected. But this! I don't know which of us was more surprised, him or me.

He looked at me like I'd just hit him in the face with a plank. Then a small, bewildered smile tipped the corners of his lips and, finally, he started to laugh.

It was infectious and cleansing. As his laughter diluted the tension in his body, I couldn't help joining in. Imelda came over and began to lick my hand, concerned, no doubt, that her mistress was cracking up. Zelda, who enjoys scenes, moved closer just to watch.

We laughed until we cried and then we just cried. For Molly, for her future, for our future. It was a catharsis that purged our fear, frustration, pain and confusion and when we were both exhausted, left us both quiet and calm.

Without a word, Jared gathered me into his arms.

We made our way to the couch without speaking and sat together silently. I could hear the clock ticking on my kitchen wall and Imelda's tongue laving the tops of Jared's shoes. There was even an occasional click of Zelda's tiny jewel-encrusted collar. And Jared's breathing. It was fast at first but as our heartbeats slowed and came into synch, it became unhurried and deep. As his chest rose and sank, I felt strain leak from his body with each steadying breath. When he finally spoke I heard something in it that had been totally absent since the accident—amusement and relief.

“Okay, my little bird. Apparently you didn't like my suggestion. What do
you
think we should do?”

“This is something we go through together. I believe I'm the gift God's giving you for this time in your life, not some helpless Tweety Bird or Chicken Little yelling, ‘The sky is falling.'” I fluffed up my emotional feathers as much as any human can do. “I am a
five-hundred-pound canary and I'm here to stay.
So snap out of this sacrificial, altruistic martyrdom and give me a hug!”

“When you chirp, I will listen,” Jared said obediently, and he gathered me into his arms—the only cage I ever wanted.

It felt so good to just
be
—together, at peace, in agreement—that neither of us moved for a very long time. Finally, because my foot was falling asleep, I squirmed a little.

“Jared?”

“Hmmm?” The expression on his face was more relaxed than I'd seen since our time at the Oasis.

“Your mother told me about seeing you and your grandfather looking into Molly's crib when you were a child.”

His face grew somber. “What did she say?”

“That it sounded as though your grandfather were appointing you to take his place and charging you with the duty of protecting your sister.” I hesitated before adding, “Sort of like a voice from above telling a little mortal what's expected of him.”

“It was a hard time for me,” Jared acknowledged. “I was losing my grandfather, whom I loved very much—and gaining a baby sister. I had it all mixed up, somehow, that God was taking my grandfather away and replacing him with Molly. All I knew was that I had to take good care of Molly or I might lose her, too.” He gave a dry, almost bitter laugh. “That shows you how convoluted a child's thinking can be.”

“Your mother believes that you took to heart what your grandfather said about your being the one to care for Molly. She knows he didn't mean to ‘hand over the torch' or to make you Molly's keeper but that he was trying to tell you how precious she was—for the
entire
family.”

“She says that to me regularly.” His voice lowered to a near whisper. “Maybe it's true, but I remember that moment with such clarity. It was almost as if it were God giving me those instructions…” He paused. “As if God were giving me those instructions instead of my grandfather…”

“And when Molly got hurt, who did you disappoint? God?”

I could practically see the gears turning in his head

“Unconsciously I have been on a ‘mission from God' ever since. That's pretty out there, isn't it?”

“How many times have you bailed Molly out of trouble?”

“Countless. She never hurts anyone else. Only herself.”

“So you've been saving her from herself all these years?”

“I suppose so.” He laughed humorlessly. “Fat lot of good that's done.”

“Jared, what Molly needs is to learn how to save herself from the troubles she gets into.”

“And how is that supposed to happen?”

“If she is ADD, there is help. Skills she can learn, medication she can take, professionals she can talk to. Just knowing
why
she functions the way she does might be enough to give her the hope and determination she needs to deal with it.”

“And if she's not ADD?”

“Everybody needs hope, Jared. There's a plan for Molly that doesn't have you holding her hand and watching her back.”

He looked so doubtful I had to quash a bubble of laughter.

“Jeremiah 29. ‘For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future and a hope.'”

He moved sharply, sending me slightly off balance. “Why are we talking about this? She's lying in a hospital bed unconscious! What makes you think…”

“That she'll recover?”

He winced.

“Because I have hope. And if it doesn't happen, then what do you propose to do about it anyway, except know she's in God's care?”

He buried his head in his hands, and when he spoke his voice was muffled and broken. “I just feel so helpless….”

“You mean until now you've thought you actually had someone to rely on except God? Like yourself?”

He lifted his head and stared at me. “Is that what I've been doing? Handling things for God?”

“I don't know. Have you?”

“You sure know how to hit a guy where it hurts, Sammi. Humility has never been my strong suit.”

“God, once He gets a hold on you, starts working on the weak spots, shoring them up to make you stronger in Him.”

“Rely on Him, not myself,” Jared murmured to himself. “Realize that without Him I'm helpless. That's not an easy request. Especially for a guy like me.”

“Competent, smart, successful, proficient, the expert…”

“I was thinking more about thickheaded, vain and doubting.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself. You haven't got a monopoly on it, you know. If all those people had to step off the stage, it would be pretty empty.”

“You do have a way of bringing things into focus,” Jared muttered. “So I'd better get my own act together and trust that God knows what He's doing in Molly's life. And let God take care of both of us….” There was palpable relief in his voice.

He reached to gather me closer and I had to look around to see who was purring. Frankly, I couldn't tell if it was Zelda or
me.
We were both that happy.

Zelda, perched on the back of the couch, moved close enough to Jared to knead her paws into his shoulder and rub the top of her head on his cheek. Imelda had inched closer herself and was still blissfully licking the top of Jared's loafer. It doesn't get much better than this.

“Have you had anything to eat today?” I finally asked. The man needs his stamina if he's going to keep up with me.

“Not much. I had a bag of chips and some cheese and crackers from the vending machine at the hospital for breakfast.”

“I know nothing I cook will compare to that, but I'll whip up an omelet. What do you like in it? Mushrooms? Ham? Green pepper?”

I had the frying pan in my hand when Jared's cell phone rang.

He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Jared here. What can I do for you…?” He grew white. “Calm down, Ethan, I don't understand you. What? Come to the hospital? What's happened? Ethan, I can't understand you. I'll be right there.”

Jared looked up at me with stark terror in his eyes. “Ethan said I was to come to the hospital right away. There were noises in the background, and he was difficult to understand. Something's happened to Molly. I've got to go.”

I dropped the pan and Imelda darted for cover. “I'm coming with you.”

These tense, fear-filled rides were becoming far too commonplace for us.

“Couldn't you make out anything Ethan said?”

“His voice was trembling,” Jared said grimly, “and there was a lot of clatter and noise in the background. There were people talking fast and in high voices.”

Crash cart. Emergency resuscitation. Code blue.
I didn't speak it, but I knew what we were both thinking. Those were potentially noisy things.

“Maybe he stepped into the hall or the cafeteria….”

Jared gave me a well-deserved dirty look. “The cafeteria is on the lower level. He's not going to call me from the cafeteria.”

“Maybe it's not too serious,” I offered. “Ethan just got rattled.”

“Ethan doesn't get rattled,” Jared said bluntly. “Other than that scene in his office when I met you, I've never seen him out of control of anything.”

That day seemed so long ago and deeply mired in the
distant past that it was difficult even to conjure it up. I hadn't loved Jared then. I hadn't even liked him. How times do change.

“Slow down,” I said almost automatically. “Whatever is going on, Ethan is there. And your parents. They'll have to handle it.”

“It's hard, letting go,” Jared murmured. “Especially if it might be forever. Lord,” he murmured, not talking to me but to the other One with us in the car. “I've hung on to everything—Molly, my duty to her, my idea that she can't get along without me. And now You are showing me that I haven't been in control of anything, even for a minute. I release everything I've been trying to control. It is in Your hands now. If You see fit to spare Molly, I praise You. And if You don't…”

A long, painful silence ensued. Finally I heard him murmur softly, “If You don't see fit to spare her, then I praise You, too.”

Tears coursed down my cheeks as we made the rest of our silent ride to the hospital.