Mother's Promise (14 page)

“In the end,” Darcy said when the last report had been delivered, “we are all individual departments with our roles to play, but we are also a part of the whole.” She turned to the whiteboard, covered now with words in many colors. “Where do our missions intersect?”

Over the next half hour the group worked together, and by meeting's end they had constructed a mission statement for the hospital. Rachel was very impressed, and as everyone gathered up their things and headed back to work, she stayed a moment, clearing away the last of the lunch items and wiping the table clean with the leftover unused napkins.

“We have a housekeeping department,” Darcy said. She had turned away to take a phone call and seemed surprised to find Rachel still there.

“It's no bother,” Rachel replied. “I wanted to apologize for being late. I was with—”

“The work that you and Paul do is very important to the overall work of this institution, Rachel. However, you are going to have to learn to prioritize.”

It was the second time she had directed that exact comment to Rachel. “I thought I was—that is, I thought that spending time with Mrs. Baker was—”

“More important than this?” Darcy flung a hand toward the whiteboard. “Well, perhaps you have a point, but a hospital is a business, Rachel, and unless we are all on the same page all the time, then we have no chance if we are to make our mark against the more established hospitals in the area.” She began erasing the whiteboard with brisk slashing motions. “I know this may seem trivial to you, but …”

“Not at all. I think it's very important. You're right. We must all work together.”

But instead of calming Darcy, Rachel's words seemed to only upset her more. “It's more than that,” she said. Her tone was argumentative. She set the eraser on the narrow tray at the base of the board and dusted off her hands as if she'd been erasing chalk instead of dry marker. “I don't expect you to appreciate the finer points of running a major business like this one, but make no mistake, our work here goes beyond simply ministering to our patients and their families. The board of trustees will expect results. There is a bottom line, and every department is expected to contribute to it.”

Rachel studied the other woman's frown, her failure to look directly at Rachel. “It's obvious that you have been given a great deal of responsibility, but surely the board would not have chosen you as administrator if they did not have complete confidence in you.”

Now Darcy looked directly at Rachel for a long moment. She did not smile or in any way acknowledge Rachel's attempt to set her mind at ease. Instead, she picked up the pile of papers and folders she'd brought with her to the meeting and left the room.

Rachel returned to her cubicle and spent the rest of the afternoon in another computer training session and then entering notes about her visits that day in preparation for filing the weekly report that Paul had requested. Meanwhile Eileen kept her up to date on the latest news about the car accident involving the two Mennonite teens.

“They took them to Memorial of course,” she announced without preamble when she returned from her midafternoon break. “The younger one was in surgery for some time, but she didn't make it. I wonder if Dr. Booker was there when it happened. He said something yesterday about being over there today.”

Just then Rachel saw Justin coming across the hospital grounds toward the entrance. He trudged along under the weight of a bulging backpack, and Rachel felt glad to see him. She was anxious to hear about his first day at school. Paul Cox had agreed that Justin could come to the office and start on his homework while he waited for Rachel to finish her day.

“It will only be until next week,” Rachel had assured him. “Once we move into the Shepherds' guesthouse he can go straight home.”

“Sally will take him in hand,” Paul had told her with a chuckle. “That little girl is going to be president of these United States one of these days right after she retires from playing professional baseball. Never saw a kid more self-confident or capable than that one. She can make your boy feel right at home and before you know it—do you folks play baseball?”

Rachel had smiled. “We do.”

But watching Justin now, she wasn't so sure that things would go as smoothly as Paul and Eileen promised. Her hopes for Justin had been so high as she'd watched him jump down from John's truck and head into the school without a backward look. She had prayed that this day would be as good for him as her first day at the hospital had been for her. But now as she watched him cross the parking lot on his way into the hospital, she realized that everything about her son's posture and stride shouted,
Misery.

Chapter 8

I
was thinking,” Rachel said later as she and Justin sat waiting for the bus. “Wouldn't you like to see where we're going to live? I already have the key, and the Shepherds said we should not stand on ceremony.”

“What does that mean?” Justin mumbled, his eyes still focused on the ground as he sat on the edge of the park bench as if poised for flight.

“Stand on ceremony? Oh, it's an old saying. In this case it means that even though officially we aren't moving to the guesthouse until Saturday, we can go there whenever we like.” She held up the key.

Justin showed no interest.

“I thought perhaps you'd like to see your room. I was going to make a list for shopping so that we would have everything we needed on Saturday when we move.”

Justin shrugged. “Will they be there? The Shepherds?”

“Maybe, but we are not going for a visit, Justin. If we see them, then of course you must be polite and introduce yourself, but—”

“How far is this house from their house?”

“Not so far. There's the main house and then the swimming pool and the gardens. The guesthouse is at the back of the gardens. Why?”

“No reason.”

A city bus made the turn onto the circular driveway. “Do you want to go or not, Justin? If so, this is the bus we need.”

Justin picked up his backpack and stood. He wore his unhappiness like a suit of heavy armor. Rachel had prayed for God's guidance to help her see her son through these difficult times and on to the better days she could only hope would be in his future. But in all the time that had passed since James's funeral, it seemed as if nothing she said or did gave her son any comfort. “Justin,” she said quietly as she waited alongside him for the exiting passengers to get off the bus, “it will work out.”

“You keep saying that,” he said and met her eyes for the first time since they'd come out to wait for the bus. Her heart broke as she read in his expression his desperate need to believe her mingled with his doubt that she could ever deliver on her promise.

He turned away and boarded the bus ahead of her, flashing the driver the pass she had bought for him. Several other employees from the hospital stepped around her and boarded so that Rachel was the last to show her pass and look for a seat as the bus pulled away.

Justin was sitting near the back, his backpack between his feet, his head bowed. A man near the front stood and offered Rachel his seat and she accepted.

It was moments like these when she missed James's strength. He would never have allowed their son to show such disrespect for his mother. But what was she going to do? Cause a scene?

She glanced around, and a woman smiled at her over the top of the book she was reading. Next to her sat a young girl, reading a textbook that Rachel recognized as one she had seen Justin studying at the hospital. Perhaps the girl attended the same school, was even in his class. She closed her eyes and prayed silently that in time Justin would find friends at his new school.

As the bus approached the stop for the Shepherd house Rachel sat forward on the edge of her seat and glanced back at Justin who was not looking at her. Because someone was waiting for the bus, she didn't see the need to signal her desire to get off. Instead when the bus stopped, she got up and moved to the rear exit. “This is our stop,” she said when she reached Justin, but she did not wait to see if he would follow her.

Instead she got off the bus and started walking the half block to the Shepherds' driveway. And what if Justin didn't follow her? She had no idea what she would do if the bus continued on its way with Justin still on board.

As she hesitated, she heard Justin running to catch up. “I'm sorry, Mom,” he murmured as he fell into step with her. “It's just so … hard.”

She could point out that it was also hard for her, but she knew that it would be little comfort. “And what did your father teach us about weathering hard times?” she asked, forcing her voice to a lighthearted tone that she did not really feel. She was rewarded by the hint of a grin lifting the corners of Justin's mouth.

“As Thomas Jefferson once said,”—Justin intoned, mimicking his father's deep voice as in unison they chanted the saying that had been a favorite of Justin's father—“ ‘I'm a great believer in luck and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it.' ”

And by the time they started up the service drive that led to the guesthouse, they were both laughing.

Ben was standing at the window in Malcolm's study when he saw the chaplain and her son pass the main house on their way to the guesthouse. They were laughing, and then the boy caught sight of the pool and stopped to take a closer look. Rachel Kaufmann waited on the path and when her son turned back to her, everything about his body language gave voice to his excitement. Rachel smiled, and then she led the way through the garden, gesturing to the plants as they walked.

He remembered how her eyes had finally lost their sadness her first day at the hospital when she had seen the atrium, and he remembered thinking how refreshing it was to see a woman who had no need to rely upon cosmetics or fashion for her loveliness. There was beauty in the simple serenity of Rachel Kaufmann's smile.

“Oh, is that Rachel?” his sister asked as she set down a tray that held glasses, a pitcher of water, and a decanter of wine along with an assortment of cheese and crackers.

“Yeah.” Ben turned away from the window and poured himself a glass of wine. “Have they moved in already?”

“Saturday. But I gave her a key and told her to stop by whenever she liked.” She sank into one of two overstuffed chairs and propped her bare feet on an ottoman. “I'll go down there in a minute and invite them to supper, but first tell me about this terrible accident today. Were you at Memorial when they brought those children in?”

Ben nodded and took the chair opposite hers. “I don't know a lot—I heard that the one girl died in surgery.”

“Well, it's all over the news, and it's why Malcolm is going to be late. He went out to the co-op after leaving his office today so he could make sure everything was locked up for the night. Hester and John are close friends with the families of both girls, and even if they weren't, you know how everyone in Pinecraft comes together whenever anything like this happens.”