Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series (11 page)

“Number one, I’m getting older as we speak.”

“Since when is twenty—”

“Sarah, for once in your life, please listen for a minute and let me speak. Hear me out on this.”

Sufficiently chastised, she nodded and gestured for Sam to continue.

“I started suffering from vertigo in the last year. I’d get dizzy and sick because of sudden pressure in my ear and temporary hearing loss.” Sam exhaled a prolonged sigh. “By the grace of God, I was able to finish all my missions without mishap or incident. Always with an air sickness bag nearby. Trust me, vertigo’s not a good thing when you’re piloting a plane.”

“May I speak?”

His lips lifted slightly. “Go ahead.”

“I’m thankful it didn’t negatively impede any of your missions.”

“Thanks. The thing is, if it hadn’t happened, I would still be over there, serving until ordered to come home. I was prescribed medication, but I didn’t want to take the chance something might happen. The doctors ran a litany of tests: hearing, balance, medical history interview, physical examination. They finally diagnosed Ménière’s Disease.” Sam motioned to his left ear and his shoulders slumped. “It’s a disorder of the inner ear, sensory in my case. I haven’t told anyone else besides my parents. Not even Charlie.”

In his tone, Sarah heard resignation, and she couldn’t believe it. “Wait just a red-hot minute. Don’t even tell me you feel like a failure in some way, Sam Lewis. Because if you do, then that’s just plain wrong.”

The muscles in his jaws flexed. “How can I not feel like I’ve let down the Air Force, my country, my parents, the people in Rockbridge? The entire time of the homecoming hoopla—while everyone was cheering for me—I felt like a fraud.” His voice had become raspy.

“How can you even say that?” Sarah inhaled a quick breath, tamping down her sudden rise of anger.

“You know, would it hurt to get a little sympathy instead of you lashing out at me? Forgive me for thinking I might get a little compassion by sharing something so personal with you.” Sam rose to his feet. Grabbing his T-shirt from the ground, he tugged it down over his head and then shoved his feet into his tennis shoes. With a grunt of exasperation, he dropped to one knee to tie the laces.

Sarah jumped up, standing over him. “If you want a pity party, Captain, you can apparently do that perfectly well all by yourself without any help from me. Furthermore, if you think anyone in this town would think any less of you because of what happened, then you’re not giving them enough credit. The most important thing? War or no war, you were willing to serve your country—willing to die for your country—and you came home in one piece. And for that, my friend, we’re all thankful.”

Especially me.

Overwhelmed with a rush of emotion, Sarah gulped and tried to catch her breath. Tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them. To her chagrin, they plopped on Sam’s hand as he finished looping the laces of the second shoe. Good heavens. She couldn’t even cry daintily. What a mess she was.

Sam slowly rose to his feet. “That’s just it, Sarah.” His irritation of a moment ago seemed to have dissipated. Using the pads of his thumbs, he swept them over her cheeks as he cradled her face with a light, gentle hold. “In some ways, I don’t feel like I’m intact. I left part of my pride over there, part of my honor. Those things are every bit as important as an arm or a leg. And even though I received an honorable discharge, and served out my time in the Air Force, I still feel like I somehow failed.”

Wiping away another tear, she lifted her gaze to his and glimpsed such profound sadness that it stole her breath. “You didn’t fail in any sense of the word, and not to disregard your feelings, but you might have lost a few brain cells somewhere along the way.” She regretted those words the second they escaped.

Sam didn’t flinch although he released his hold on her and moved his hands down to his hips.

“Do you need some kind of medal to prove your worth?” she said. “Matter of fact, you’re plenty decorated. I’ve seen the badges, pins and patches all over your uniform, Sam. If you’d lost a limb or even your life, would that somehow prove your service counted more?”

Sarah lowered her gaze and shook her head, trying but failing to comprehend his reasoning. “I’m sure you know the scripture verses about pride as well as I do. If anything, your willingness to fight for your country means you’re much
more
of a man. At least to me, if that counts for anything. You just said that if you hadn’t been diagnosed with”—she waved her hand—“that disease, you’d still be over there today. I can’t begin to understand why you’d feel this way, but I guess there’s nothing else I can say. Except that,” she sputtered, swallowing hard, “God’s not done with you yet, Captain. He brought you back home safely, and I know in my heart He’s got something very special planned for you.”

She turned to go.

“Are you done?”

When she faced him again, they stared at one another for a long moment. Blinking hard, she nodded. “Yes, I think so.” She lowered her gaze to the ground. “I’m sorry about my little rant. I hope you can forgive me.” With a shrug of her shoulders, she tried to smile. “You know me. I get passionate about something, and I can’t seem to help myself. Rest assured, God’s working on me.”

Stepping forward, Sam moved his strong arms around her, pulled her close and leaned his head against hers. “Your feelings count for a lot, Sarah. Thank you.” His lips were warm against her hair. In his arms, she felt comforted, protected, and she never wanted to leave.

“It’s nice to know someone other than my parents believes in me,” he whispered. “I wasn’t just representing my country over there or trying to prove the United States is superior to any other nation. More than anything else, I was there for my family. My neighbors. My town. For the people that I love most in the world.”

“Sam.” Her voice was muffled against him. “You’re crushing me. You didn’t lose any strength in your arms, that’s for sure.”

She felt a quiet, deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You’re good for me and won’t let me get away with much, will you?”

“Not if I can help it. I need to get home, and you”—she patted his chest and stepped back again—“seriously need to get over yourself. You coming?”

“I think I’ll stay here a while longer. Do some thinking.”

“Promise me no pity parties, and please don’t think too hard. You might strain something important.”

“Sarah?” he called to her when she was about fifty yards away.

This was getting to be a nice habit. She glanced at him over one shoulder. “Yes, Captain?”

“Thank you. And I’ve changed my mind. I’m coming with you.”

“For protection?”

“You got it. For my own as much as yours.”

She nodded and turned, waving one hand over her head. “Fine. Stop dawdling then.”

“Coming.” He was beside her within seconds.

Lord, he’s all yours. Please give him your peace.

Chapter 13
~
~♥
~~

The Next Afternoon

“Do you need help finding anything, dear?”

Engrossed in her search, Sarah shook her head. “No. Thanks all the same, Betty. I’m sure I’ll find what I need. Just doing a little research.” She returned her attention to the row of books. Maybe if she didn’t encourage conversation, Mom’s librarian friend would move on to another patron. It wasn’t like she was a stranger in the library and didn’t know how or where to search. Many in town joked that the library was Sarah’s second home and that they’d set up a permanent cot for her in the staff lounge.

“Did you enjoy
To Kill A Mockingbird
?”

Sarah turned back to where Betty stood behind her. “Yes, I loved it. It’s a powerful book and makes me think. That’s the best kind of book, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Indeed.” That word seemed to be Betty’s favorite, and she’d heard it often.

Not that she was trying to be secretive, but neither did Sarah want Betty Raines telling Mom that her youngest daughter was seeking a book in the medical section. Especially since she knew her mother regularly met Betty for coffee at Perry’s. Mom had panicked enough over Dad’s heart attack. Goodness, given this information, she’d probably jump to any number of false assumptions and think she had a potentially debilitating or fatal disease.

“I’ve had a request for the book,” Betty said. “I thought perhaps if you were done, then. . .”

Didn’t the library have multiple copies? She’d checked it out several times already, so perhaps she was being selfish and shouldn’t hold onto it and deprive someone else of the joy of reading her new favorite novel.

Sarah nodded. “Certainly. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate your understanding. I’m sure we’ll have another copy returned soon, so please feel free to check it out again.”

She waited until Betty walked away before tugging out a medical dictionary. What was the name of the disease Sam said he had? Mad at herself for not writing it down immediately after she’d returned home, Sarah closed her eyes.
Think.
Opening the book, she scanned down the list, but it only confused her more. The letter M came to mind. That was the first letter.
Men
something, as she recalled. Menyers? Minyards? Quickly flipping to the index in the back, she moved her finger down the list. She paused at one or two before pausing on Ménière’s Disease. Yes! That was it.

Pulling a stepstool closer, Sarah settled on it to read, never taking her eyes from the book.

Ménière’s Disease results when a change occurs in the fluid volume of the labyrinth, a part of the inner ear.
Interesting.
Several million people suffer from the condition in the United States. The symptoms of Ménière’s Disease can occur suddenly and arise daily or as infrequently as once a year.
So, it is unpredictable.
Usually affects adults in their thirties—Sam was close to that—or middle-aged adults but it can also occur in childhood. Possible causes include ear infection and head injury.

Sam hadn’t mentioned either of those things.

Accurate measurement and characterization of hearing loss are of critical imporance in the diagnosis. Vertigo is the most debilitating symptom of the disease and vertigo attacks can lead to severe nausea, vomiting and sweating.
He’d mentioned vertigo and being sick.
Attacks often start with tinnitus—a loss of hearing—or full pressure in the affected ear.
The left ear, in Sam’s case.
Some sufferers could experience intense, uncontrollable tinnitus while sleeping. Others might notice hearing loss or feel unbalanced for prolonged periods. Occasional symptoms include headaches, abdominal discomfort and diarrhea. A person’s hearing tends to recover between attacks but over time becomes worse.

Sarah paused and inhaled a quick breath when she read the next words.

There is no cure.

So, it wasn’t like it was a death sentence. Not like it was a horrible thing, except she knew how much Sam loved to fly—it was more than a hobby. For four years, flying had been more than his occupation. Flying jets had been his passion, his livelihood, his life. He said he was on medication. The worst that could happen might be eventual hearing loss.

She could better understand his not wanting to fly in any kind of conflict because of the uncertainty of his condition. What she hated most was how this disease seemed to make Sam somehow feel like less of a man. That notion was ridiculous, but how could she convince him of that? Men could be so stubborn.

Returning her focus to the book, Sarah continued to read. Through the use of hearing tests, physicians characterized hearing loss as either sensory, arising from the inner ear, or neural, arising from the hearing nerve.
Didn’t Sam say his was sensory?
A change of diet can help control symptoms. Eliminating caffeine, alcohol, tobacco and salt may relieve the frequency and intensity of attacks in some people. Reducing stress levels may lessen the severity of the symptoms. Medications that either control allergies, reduce fluid retention or improve blood circulation in the inner ear could also prove beneficial.

She paused, an idea forming in her mind. Sam didn’t drink alcohol, and he didn’t chew or smoke tobacco, but she might be able to help him reduce his caffeine and salt intake.

“My my, who have we here? And what could you be studying so intently?”

Startled, Sarah clasped the book to her chest, breathing heavily. That action only served to make it easier for Tess to see the title of the bulky volume. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you.”

“Obviously.” Tess tilted her head and read the name of the book out loud. “Why are you reading this book?” A frown creased her forehead. “You’re not sick—”

“No, I’m not sick. Thanks for your concern.” Sarah bit her tongue, determined not to say more and fuel the fire.

“Then why do you have your head stuck in this medical dictionary?” Her sister’s blue eyes widened. “Are you afraid Dad’s going to have another attack? Has something happened? Or is it Mom? Tell me now. Are you worried about her? What’s going on?”

Sarah shook her head. “Tess, please calm down, and don’t jump to hasty conclusions. I’m trying to read up on something to help a friend. That’s all. Really.” Avoidance wasn’t lying the last time she checked. She was under no obligation to answer her sister’s nosy questions.

“Well, that’s good, but why can’t you at least share the name of your friend’s malady? Must be serious.” When Tess stepped closer, Sarah snapped the book closed. Dust rose from its pages, making her sneeze—a very loud, distinctly unladylike sneeze. She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes and then fumbled for her handbag. Tugging out a tissue from the front pocket, she coughed a few times to clear her clogged throat. Tess watched, appearing embarrassed at the intrusive, loud sound in the otherwise hushed library.

“I’ve read enough for today.” Rising to her feet, Sarah took great pains to pick up the stepstool and move it out of the way. “It’s time for me to get back to Perry’s, anyway.” She reshelved the medical dictionary and grabbed her purse. At least she’d read enough to give her some insight into the disease that brought Sam home.

“Right.” Tess glanced at her watch. “I was hoping to get to the bank earlier this morning and invite Sam to join us for dinner tonight at the house. He’s already been home a few weeks, and we need to be more neighborly. We had a new case come up at the office this morning, and unfortunately, I couldn’t get away for ten minutes to run over and see him.”

“Oh, are you cooking?” Sarah bit her lip, but she didn’t regret the question. Her sister had a habit of inviting others for dinner while fully expecting Mom to do all the work. Not that Mom minded, but advance notice would be nice. She wouldn’t tell Tess she’d made a chicken casserole the night before and Mom had already planned on putting it in the oven at five o’clock.

Tess frowned. “Mom lives for this kind of thing. Besides, she loves Sam.”

“Why don’t you go see Sam tomorrow and ask him to come for dinner later in the week? Invite his parents, too,” Sarah said as they exited the library together and walked down the front steps.

“I have a better idea.” Tess practically bounced down the remaining stairs to the sidewalk, reminding Sarah of an enthusiastic child. “Hello there, Mr. Lewis.”

Walking past the library, hands in his pockets and whistling, Sam appeared deep in thought. “Hi, Tess. How are you?” His gaze moved past Tess to where Sarah stood on the steps. “Sarah.”

She nodded. “Hi, Sam.”

“What’s got that handsome forehead of yours all scrunched up in a big old frown?”

Sarah watched, appalled, as Tess traced the lines on Sam’s forehead with her finger. Speaking of pride, did her sister have any left in that petite frame of hers? That disgustingly thin, perfect figure?
Down, girl. Be gracious. She’s your sister. You love her.

“You look like a man in need of a good meal and conversation. No doubt, you’re working too hard. I want you to come to dinner at our house tonight.”

Sam looked up at her as she walked down the last few steps to the sidewalk. “What do you think, Sarah? Do you agree with Tess’s assessment?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Sarah hoped her smile belied her words, and she prayed Tess wouldn’t feel the need to mention where she’d found her in the library and especially the book she’d been studying. Judging by Tess’s current demeanor, it was the furthest thing from her mind as she flirted with abandon.

“Tell me what time and what to bring.” Sam kept his gaze trained on her, not Tess.

“Just bring yourself,” Tess said. “That’s all we need to dress up our table.”

Sarah exchanged amused glances with Sam. It was either that or groan. How was it possible she’d come from the same gene pool as Tess?

“You could bring dessert, if you’d like,” Sarah said.

“Count on it.”

Sarah nodded. “Sounds good. Dinner will be served at six. Please invite your parents, too. We’d love to have them join us.”

“I’ll be there, but my folks have another engagement tonight. If you’d rather do it another night—”

“Don’t be silly, Sam.” Tess playfully swatted his arm and her hand lingered a little long for Sarah’s liking. “We can always do it again, and your parents can join us then.”

“Very good. If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I have a luncheon at Quentin’s, or I’d offer to escort you wherever you’re going.”

“Another time,” Tess called after Sam as he departed.

♥

Mom lowered the bowl of steaming mashed potatoes on the table. Then she stopped and stared at something behind Sarah. “Teresa Elaine Jordan, you march right back into your room this instant, young lady. Take off that shameful outfit, put on an appropriate dress, and go scrub that hideous gook off your face.”

Turning from where she was setting the table with the fine English bone china, Sarah moved one hand over her mouth. Standing in the hallway, Tess wore the shortest skirt imaginable and enough blush for a clown. And what was that strange iridescent blue color on her eyelids? Her eyelashes looked longer than Emmett Blanton’s cow, and they were the longest in the county. If her sister had any idea of how silly she looked, Tess wouldn’t show herself to anything other than her full-length bedroom mirror. Was her sister really that gullible?

“Don’t you think I look sophisticated?” Tess slowly turned in a full circle, modeling her outfit. As if that would convince anyone. “I’ll have you know this look is all the rage in Paris, my darlings. This is the miniskirt. Mary Quant features it in her shop in London.”

Mom frowned. “I don’t know or care who this Mary person is, but it’s nothing more than someone taking a pair of scissors and whacking away on the length of a skirt to make it indecent.”

“You liked my pillbox hat inspired by Jackie Kennedy.” Tess stuck out her lower lip in a pout.

“Completely different,” Mom said, pulling a serving spoon from the tray of fine silver in the breakfront. The silver reserved for only the most important dinner guests. Shaking her head, Mom returned to the kitchen.

“Come on, sis.” Tess turned big eyes on Sarah. “What do you think?”

Sarah glanced at her watch. Sam should arrive momentarily. Tess should know better than to ask her about fashion choices. “I think if Paris designers put a woman in a plain brown potato sack and paraded her down the Champs Élysées, they’d convince gullible buyers worldwide that it was the height of fashion. Sophistication isn’t something you wear. The key is understatement, not something you parade in someone’s face.” Maybe that was too harsh. “Sweetie, you definitely have the legs and figure to wear a skirt that short, but the point is, you—”

“Don’t sweetie me,” Tess huffed. “Maybe you don’t know how to recognize sophistication. You don’t read the fashion magazines the way I do or keep up with what they’re wearing in New York and Europe.” She gave her a disparaging glance. “You actually look pretty good tonight, but normally you look rather. . .well, frumpy.”

“Frumpy?” Sarah silently counted to five under her breath.
Lord, hold my tongue.

“Maybe you should try a potato sack like Sarah mentioned.” Mom came back into the room and gave Tess a pointed glance. “At least it would cover you up more. Show a little respect for yourself, Teresa. I don’t care what they do anywhere but right here in Rockbridge. In this town, you’d be held up to ridicule if you dared show yourself in public dressed like”—she waved her hand up and down—“this. And quite possibly, you’d be taken to task by the church elders, which would be extremely embarrassing for your father. I know one thing. You’re not going to sit here at the dinner table looking like you do now, especially with Captain Lewis expected any moment.”