Chapter Fifteen
Was it an unwritten rule of hospitals that they had to stock the world's most boring magazines in their waiting rooms?
She should have brought her GRE book so she could have gotten a little study time in. Instead she was stuck perusing the AARP magazine and a three-year-old copy of
Car Craft
. Running her fingernails down a chalkboard would have been more pleasant, even if she had just read how to rebuild a carburetor.
Dawdi seemed perfectly content with his issue of
Consumer Reports
with a flip phone on the cover. Cassie glanced at the date. 2004. Surely someone at the hospital should be alerted to the magazine problem immediately.
She glanced at the clock. Zach, Dr. Reynolds, said the surgery would take about half an hour. It should be any minute now.
Dawdi pointed to a picture in his magazine. “These new phones look mighty fancy.”
Please, Doctor. Please come before Dawdi starts comparing service plans.
Oh, if she could always conjure him up so easily. He came around the corner just as she wished for him, looking as handsome as ever in his pistachio green scrubs. His head was bare, but she could tell he'd been wearing some sort of surgical hat because his hair was attractively mussed just the way she liked it.
He caught sight of her, and his smile could have lit up a soccer field in the middle of the night. Cassie nudged Dawdi, still engrossed in reading about 911 calls on a cell phone, and they stood together to greet the doctor.
He reached out his hand and shook Dawdi's vigorously, then offered his hand to her. It was probably the most fleeting handshake she'd ever experienced. He released her hand almost before he'd even touched her, as if he'd been burned, even though she knew his hands were better. He'd burned them over a week ago.
“The surgery went very well. Better than expected,” he said, still beaming like a lighthouse. “We took some skin from her thigh and grafted it onto her foot. I performed the surgery and Dr. Mann observed. He was pleased with the results.”
“Can we see her?” Cassie asked.
“Sure,” the doctor said. “They just took her to recovery. I'll show you the way.”
They followed him down the hall, through two sets of doors, and into a maze of alcoves and curtains. Dr. Reynolds pointed to a space set apart by a hospital curtain. “She's behind there.”
Dawdi nudged aside one end of the curtain and ambled into the room to be with Mammi.
Dr. Reynolds looked at her as if he were about to ask for a lock of her hair. “It will be a few minutes before she comes out of anesthesia. Can I introduce you to someone while you're waiting?”
“Yes. Of course.”
His smile only got wider, and he motioned with his clipboard. “This way.”
They walked side by side through the two sets of double doors and back into the main hall. “I'm glad surgery went well,” Cassie said.
He stopped and turned to her, his eyes sparkling with their own light. “I felt it. I wanted you to know that I actually felt it.”
“Felt what?”
“Your prayer. I know it made a difference.”
Right before they had taken Mammi, Cassie had quietly suggested that they pray for a successful surgery and Mammi's quick recovery. She hadn't wanted to offend Dr. Reynolds, but she had sensed a change in the last couple of weeks and thought he might be willing. He was. Surely, God was changing his heart. “You think God helped you through the operation?”
He nodded. “I've never done that kind of surgery before. It was almost as if God took hold of my hands and guided me. Dr. Mann said I looked like a veteran.”
“I'm so glad.” She felt as warm as a potbelly stove. Not only because Dr. Reynolds's faith was growing, but because he had trusted her enough to agree to the prayer. She'd judged Doctor Reynolds harshly in the first place. Instead of the jerk she'd thought him to be, he was kind and thoughtful, unselfish and good-natured.
And she liked him, more than she would ever have thought possible. It amazed her how easily she could talk to him and how comfortable she felt being with him. He bristled every time Norman came to Huckleberry Hill and clenched his teeth whenever anyone mentioned Elmer Lee's name. It was very endearing.
She almost regretted not saying yes when he'd asked her out.
Because he wouldn't ask again.
He called her Miss Coblenz and avoided touching her at all costs. seemingly determined to keep a professional distance. She truly appreciated that. Or rather, she used to appreciate that. Now it frustrated her no end.
Didn't he realize that a girl could change her mind?
“I know you want to get back to your grandma,” he said, “but there's someone I've been wanting you to meet. Are you okay if we take the stairs? Some days it's the only exercise I get.”
Cassie led the way into the stairwell, a dank and dim space with gray stairs and even grayer walls. Dr. Reynolds followed behind her as if wanting to be near just in case she fell backward. “For as much as health professionals tell people they should use the stairs,” he said, “this stairwell is very unfriendly.”
“This and the magazines.”
“We have unfriendly magazines?” he said.
“Old and boring ones in the waiting rooms. Some of them could probably be worth some money if you sold them as antiques.”
He chuckled. “I don't know if I can do anything about the stairwell, but surely the administration could spring for some new magazines. I'll get right on that.”
She turned and smiled at him. “Will you please?”
On the second floor, they walked halfway down the hall, and Dr. Reynolds tapped on one of the doors. “Come in,” a muffled voice said.
He opened the door for Cassie, and she walked into the brightly lit room. A little boy, so skinny he looked like a pile of bones covered with skin, lay in the bed. Dark circles made half moons under his eyes, and his skin seemed to have been stretched over his face. He watched TV with a woman who sat in a chair next to the bed.
Cassie recognized the woman. She looked to be in her late thirties with light brown highlights in her dark brown hair. Her eyes were dark under long lashes and heavy brows. She was thick around the middle with that motherly figure that came from bearing children.
The little boy exploded into a smile when he saw Dr. Reynolds. “Zach!” he said. “Messi scored two goals yesterday.”
Dr. Reynolds smiled back. “I know. And did you see Mathieu save a goal with his head?”
“Yes. That was so sweet.”
The boy with the scarf.
The reason that Dr. Reynolds was willing to talk to God again.
With a boyish grin, Dr. Reynolds held up his hand for a high five. Austin gave him one. Cassie thought the doctor had never, ever looked so attractive.
“Barca's playing Madrid on Saturday,” the doctor said. “Are you going to watch?”
“No. The game starts in the middle of the night, and this stupid hospital TV doesn't get any good stations.”
Dr. Reynolds nudged Austin's arm. “Austin, this is Cassie Coblenz. She's a friend of mine.”
Austin tensed. “Are you going to give me a shot?”
“No,” Cassie said. “I'm just here for a visit.” She held out her hands to show they were empty.
Austin exhaled in relief.
Dr. Reynolds motioned to the woman who had stood up to greet them. “This is Jamie, Austin's mom.”
Cassie reached out her hand. “You look familiar.”
“I go to the Bible church near the high school,” Jamie said.
“Of course,” Cassie said. “I should have remembered. I've only been in town a few weeks, so I haven't learned everybody's names there yet.”
Jamie's eyes seemed alight with amusement. “I know who you are. You made quite a stir among the single men the first day you attended services. There was talk of drawing straws to see who got to ask out the gorgeous blonde first.”
Cassie felt the warmth creep up her neck, not as much because of the conversation but because of the way Dr. Reynolds looked at her, as if he were intensely interested in what the single guys at church had decided.
Cassie cleared her throat. “I think Peter Bench won. Or lost, depending on how you look at it.”
The doctor's gaze pierced through her skull, and his intensity flared like a forest fire.
Jamie nodded. “I would have expected Peter to get first dibs of the three. He's already asked you out?”
“He took me to a fancy restaurant in Green Bay.” She glanced at the doctor, who hadn't moved a muscle. He should really stop looking at her like that.
“That sounds like Peter,” Jamie said.
Cassie tried to ignore the doctor. “I was afraid to sit on the chair. It looked like they upholstered it out of silk.”
“Peter has lots of disposable income. Though why he would live in Shawano with all that cash is beyond me.” Jamie's eyes darted between Cassie and the doctor. She reached over and ruffled Austin's hair. “We have a Bible study on Wednesday nights. You're always invited.”
“Thank you,” Cassie said, feeling palpable relief. It was very kind of Jamie to move the conversation in another direction. “I'll think about it.”
“I've been trying to convince the doctor to join us, but he's always got some lame excuse, like surgery or wart removal.”
Dr. Reynolds smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “There's a wart epidemic. We're working day and night to keep it under control.”
Jamie glanced sideways at Cassie. “If we both work on him, he's bound to crack.”
Cassie eyed Dr. Reynolds. She knew how uncomfortable she felt when someone badgered her into doing something she didn't want to do. She smiled. “It's not my place to work on anybody.”
Dr. Reynolds's intense gaze softened like warm tapioca pudding.
Jamie smiled back as if sharing a secret. “Not my place either, I suppose, but I'm going to do it anyway.”
Dr. Reynolds seemed to have to pry his eyes from hers to look at Austin. “How are you feeling today?”
Austin let out a great sigh. “I'm okay.”
“It looks like they're still feeding you medicine through a tube.”
“Yeah.”
Dr. Reynolds leaned closer and rested his arm on the bed railing, pinning Austin with a sympathetic gaze. “How are you really feeling?”
Several emotions played on Austin's face. Cassie could tell he wanted to put on a brave front but also wanted what comfort the doctor could give him. The little boy in him won out. His eyes pooled with tears. “I'm not very brave.”
“Are you kidding?” Dr. Reynolds said. “You're feeling rotten, lying here in this rotten hospital bed, watching a stupid cartoon. You haven't run away or hit any nurses today. I'd say that's pretty brave.”
“I hate it here,” Austin said.
Dr. Reynolds nodded. “I hate the smell.”
“And the food tastes terrible.”
“I'm sick of green Jell-O,” said Dr. Reynolds.
Austin made a face. “It's better than lemon.”
Cassie loved the rich bass of Dr. Reynolds's laughter. “If your doctor says it's okay, I'll bring you some of Cassie's peanut butter cookies. They are to die for.”
Cassie self-consciously played with the hair at the back of her neck. She shouldn't get all tingly just because Dr. Reynolds liked her peanut butter cookies.
“My mom sometimes brings McDonald's cheeseburgers,” Austin said.
Dr. Reynolds propped his cheek on his fist. “Remember how I told you I played soccer?”
Austin acted as if the question insulted his intelligence. “I know.”
“My friend on the team, one of the best keepers you'll ever see, got really sick one night. I had to take him to the emergency room. They tried to give him a shot, and he screamed like a baby. He had a needle phobia.”
“What's a needle phobia?”
“He was scared of needles. I had to hold his arm down so he wouldn't jerk it around when they stuck the needle in. That made it worse, because it hurts a lot less if you relax.”
“I know,” Austin said. “Marla told me.”
“So it's okay to be scared, and it's okay to cry and fuss. Even the big guys freak out sometimes.”
Austin rubbed his eye. “But it doesn't do any good to make a fuss about it. That's what my mom says.”
“But it doesn't mean you're not brave. It just means it's hard.”
“Really hard,” Austin said, letting out a long, slow breath.
Dr. Reynolds nudged Austin's shoulder with his fist. “So give yourself a break. I'm here to help. I'll hold your arm down if you need me to.”
“Mom says Jesus will help me too.”
Dr. Reynolds made only the slightest hesitation. “Yes, He will.”
“Will you say a prayer to Jesus?” Austin asked.
Cassie didn't know how Dr. Reynolds could have said no to that trusting face turned up to his.
Dr. Reynolds nodded slowly. “I will.”
Austin clasped his hands together and bowed his head.
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Now?”
“Yes,” Austin said with a giggle. “When did you think?”
Dr. Reynolds cleared his throat before bowing his head and closing his eyes. Cassie did the same.
“Dear God,” he began. The sound of his voice, so deep and heartfelt, gave her goose bumps all the way up her arms. “Hallowed be Thy name. My friend Austin is afraid. Will You comfort him and help him to sleep well tonight? Will You please help him feel better and heal his body so that he can get out of this hospital and play soccer and never eat green Jell-O again?”