Love's Healing Touch (22 page)

Didn't the man realize that there was
never
a time when everything was okay? That there were always rocky places in life? Even in her terrific family, there'd been tough times when someone got sick or they were short on money. Mike was asking her for an on-and-off relationship when
he
felt good, when everything was going well, an arrangement that didn't interest her at all.

She was angry. At the same time, the hurt burned so deeply inside she had to push herself to her feet.

Sunday morning, Ana tried to sleep late but awakened at seven. She read the newspaper while she ate a grapefruit and drank her coffee. That completed, it was only eight o'clock. What would she do with the rest of the morning?

Go to church.

The thought amazed her. She'd only gone three times, but church attendance had become a habit after such a short while. Was she going to allow Mike to keep her from her church? No. Never. She marched into the bedroom and began to get ready.

Arriving a few minutes early, Ana scanned the sanctuary. Mike sat next to Tim. Tessie and her father were in the middle of the pew next to Julie and Francie while Brandon sat on the end with enough space left for another person. She walked down the aisle and slid into the empty space. Brandon scooted over to make more room and smiled at her while Francie reached out to pat her hand and whisper, "Good to see you." Looking down the row, everyone else waved to her or smiled, except for Mike. She didn't think he saw her because he was so wrapped up in prayer.

He looked miserable, the idiot! It served him right. This must be as hard for him as it was for her, but it didn't need to be.

Maybe she shouldn't be here. Should she leave him in peace? No, she had a right to worship and wasn't about to leave. She relaxed, listened to the prelude and meditated.

After a lovely choir anthem, the associate minister stood, opened the Bible and said, "Reading from the Gospel according to Matthew, chapter eleven, verses twenty-eight to thirty." He cleared his throat before he read, "'Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.'"

Amazing words, healing words. Ana opened the bulletin to the scripture and read it to herself. They made her feel peaceful and renewed. The Lord understood her pain and even took it upon Himself. What a wonderful promise. Then she closed the bulletin to listen to the sermon.

After the last hymn, Francie pulled Ana closer to her. "He's being such an idiot," Francie whispered. "Give him time."

Ana glanced down the aisle. Mike had already left, not even looking at her or talking to anyone in the pew. Right now, he was acting like such a jerk she wasn't sure she even wanted to be with him. "Francie, how are you doing? When are you due?"

"Okay, change the subject, but I'm not finished. Can't you have a little patience with him?"

"Patience isn't one of my virtues. Besides, what's going on isn't my choice."

"He's not an easy person to know, but it's worth it." She grinned. "Now, to answer your question, I'm due in two weeks and am doing great."

"'Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest,'" Mike repeated to himself as he hurried from the sanctuary. Outside, he found a bench in the garden to the side of the church and sat to consider the scripture.

Since he'd found Christ, Mike had tried to be strong in order to follow the Lord, to do His work, but this morning, the words from Matthew struck him in the heart. "'Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest,'" he whispered.

In the turmoil of his life, Mike had forgotten that basic promise of faith. He wasn't alone in his pain. Why was that part of Jesus's teaching so hard for him to remember? Why did he forget that if he turned his life over to his Savior, they shared the pain and burden?

The big problem came with the word
if.
Could he turn this whole mess over to Jesus? Yes, he could, but for him it would be hard to let go of every ugly corner and painful deed. He'd become pretty good at trying to hide them. Because Mike knew himself pretty well, he also knew the task wasn't going to be easy for someone who trusted as little as he did, but he could trust his Savior. That he did know. Besides, if he didn't turn his life over to His healing touch, Mike was going to lose the love of the person he cared for most.

For Ana, the next week passed as if Mike had never worked in the E.R. Not seeing him made her feel as if he'd never existed, never been a part of her life, as if he'd never caressed her cheek or touched her hair, as if he'd never kissed her.

She heard Williams tell Mitchelson that Mike enjoyed working in pedes and was getting plenty of overtime. Other than that, nothing. She didn't see him. No one else mentioned him and she refused to ask questions.

The next Sunday, as Ana got off her shift, she decided to go to church again. She liked the people there, felt a presence like the one Mike had talked about, but she couldn't name. He'd said it was the Holy Spirit. To her, this presence was a feeling of peace and joy, love and healing and something else she couldn't identify, like her soul being touched and changed.

Three hours later, she again slid in next to Brandon. As the associate minister read the scripture halfway through the service, she heard a deep inhalation of breath and saw Francie lean over and gasp. After a few seconds, Francie grabbed her husband's hand and pulled herself to her feet. She whispered to him, "My water broke."

Ana took one of her arms and Brandon the other to support Francie from the sanctuary. Once outside and heading toward the car, Ana said, "How long have you been having contractions?"

"They started this morning."

"This morning?" Brandon said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"They weren't hard. I thought they were like those false ones I had last month."

Ana opened the car door and helped Francie inside. "How far apart?"

"Oh, five or ten minutes."

"Brandon, you have plenty of time to get her to the hospital, but get going."

Francie reached out the window and took Ana's arm. "I'd really like you to come with us if you don't mind. I'd feel much better with a doctor in the car."

"Sure." As an E.R. physician, she'd delivered babies. Well, one baby. She always called the obstetrical resident, but Francie didn't need to know that now. Ana got in the backseat in time to see the rest of the family running from the church.

"Meet you at the hospital," Brandon shouted and drove off.

After a few hours in the waiting room, Mike was a wreck. Brandon remained in the birthing room and brought frequent reports. Ana had disappeared, but Manny turned up to wait with Julie. They all paced.

Mike went to work in pedes at three but asked Tim to bring him reports. Doing something, keeping busy should make the time go faster, but it didn't. Mike glanced at his watch every few minutes, but it seemed as if the hands never moved. At five, Tim silently dashed through the third floor hall to tell Mike the baby was on the way. After checking out with the head nurse, Mike ran upstairs after his brother.

When they were finally allowed to see Francie and Brandon an hour later, the baby had been whisked off to the nursery.

"What's his name?" Tim held Francie's hand.

"He's Michael Timothy Fairchild," Francie said. "Named for my favorite cousins because you two really are my brothers."

Tim laughed and Mike grinned more widely than he had for days. Mike grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him toward the door. "Come on. We're going to the nursery to see our baby." He waved at the new parents as they left.

Once there, they stood outside the large window and searched the infant's face to see who he looked like. "I think he has your big ears," Tim said.

While Mike tried to think of an insult, he heard someone approach from behind him.

"He's a beautiful baby," Ana said.

"Yeah." Mike guessed he had a huge smile, which became even wider when he saw her. Filled with joy about the baby and from seeing Ana, he took her hand, but she pulled it quickly away. He deserved that.

"Did you know Francie named him for Mike and me?" Tim asked.

"That's terrific." She turned to walk away.

"Ana," Mike said, but she didn't pause. Silently he watched her walk away, furious with himself. What a mess he'd made. Was there any way he could explain to her how messed up he'd felt?

Could he make things right between them again? He had to. He could learn little by little what trust and love meant. Could love heal the break between them?

At seven-fifteen Tuesday morning, Mike waited outside the E.R. for Ana. When she saw him, she said, "Goodbye, Fuller," and headed toward the parking lot.

He deserved that, too. So wrapped up in his misery, so egocentric in his pain, he had treated her as if she weren't important, as if he couldn't trust her. Now, he'd have to paddle really fast to win her back.

He followed her. "Ana, could I talk to you? Please."

She turned toward him. "Why?" she said, only that. Interest didn't show in her eyes nor eagerness in her stance.

"I made a mistake. I need to apologize."

"Oh." She waved her hand toward him. "Don't worry about it." She headed away from him. "I'm fine."

He sprinted behind her and caught up at the edge of the parking lot. "Please. I want to talk to you."

She rolled her eyes. "Mike, you said you're too busy to bother with me."

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Well, that's the way it came out. I don't want to go through this off-and-on stuff. I don't want a relationship with a guy who retreats when the going gets rough because he doesn't care enough to share."

"It's not that I don't care." He took her hand and led her toward the low brick wall that separated the hospital and the lot. "I don't communicate well. I'm sorry. I must have hurt you." He gently tugged on her hand so she'd sit down next to him.

"I'm not going to lie. You did hurt me, but that may be good. The pain made me realize that the man I want to be with is a lot like my father. Papi drove my mother crazy with his moods." She stood. "I'm not going to live that way no matter how much I care about you. I refuse."

"No matter how much you care?" He got to his feet. "Do you still care?"

"Mike, did you hear the part about how I'm not going to put up with the great stone face, no matter how handsome and charming and smart you are, no matter how much I care? I refuse to do that."

"Please come back. Please talk to me." He motioned toward the wall. "I heard you, I did. Now, at this moment, I
want
to talk. I want to communicate."

With reluctant steps, Ana returned to the wall and sat down.

When he realized it was all up to him, that Ana wasn't going to make this easy, Mike cleared his throat. "Okay, this is why I pulled away from you. Here's what happened. I'm sharing." She didn't look impressed. "I'm worried about Tim. I found him sneaking out of the house the night I went home sick."

"Isn't he eighteen?"

"Yes, but I've told you about my family. We don't make good decisions. I don't believe Tim can handle being out all night with the group of guys he hangs with. He knew this wasn't a good idea or he wouldn't have climbed out the window."

She nodded.

"He was supposed to go see the recruiting officer a couple of times, but he never showed up for the appointments. Now I don't know what he's going to do. Plus, with our being sick and Mom taking care of us, there's no money coming in but a lot going out." He shook his head before he dropped it in his hands. "I was exhausted from being sick for a long time. I couldn't handle it all. I did what I've always done. I shut everyone out. I shut you out."

Ana sat still for a moment. He watched her face and searched her expression, trying to figure out how she felt, but found nothing. She studied the crepe myrtle, pink and white against the wall of the hospital, while the breeze moved the curling tendrils of her hair.

"Why didn't you talk to me about your problems?"

"I'm a guy."

She sighed. "I believe there may be a few men someplace who communicate. I'm not asking all that much, but you could have mentioned you were having problems and that you'd decided to transfer to pediatrics."

Yeah, he should have.

"Why are you so frightened?" she asked.

There was a moment of silence. Then she looked at him, squarely in the eyes and said, "Do you think if I knew how tough your life is, I'd reject you like Cynthia did?"

He couldn't answer. He felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach, hard, and his breath had been knocked out. Did he really feel that way? "I hadn't thought about it like that." He paused to consider her question, amazed he hadn't recognized what had been so easy for Ana to see. "I guess I did, deep inside."

She stood again. He wished she'd stop doing that. "You have to learn to trust me," she said. "I'm not Cynthia. I'm not at all like Cynthia."

"I know that. I trust you."

"Mike, you don't know anything about trust, and you wouldn't recognize love if it bit you in the leg."

"Do you love me?" He moved around in front of her and took her hand.

"I love a lot about you, but that doesn't change a thing." She pulled her hand away. "I refuse to be in love by myself."

"Ana, please give me another chance."

Gazing up at him, she said, "Mike, I don't trust you."

At least she called him Mike this time, but the part about not trusting him scared him.

"I'm different now."

"You're feeling good because of the baby, but when hard times come again, you'll close me out. I know that. If you love someone, you have to share the good times and the bad, but you won't allow me to be with you and to support you. I can't commit my life to you if you're not able to share your life with me, every bit of your life."