Coming Undone (10 page)

“
I don’t know what to say,” he said softly. “Would you pray it for me?”

How did she get into these things?
God, help
. “Of course.”

In front of him Kathryn leaned toward him, and Ben wondered at the veracity of his own mind. What was he thinking asking her to pray with him? What was that? He didn’t pray, and he certainly didn’t go around asking other people to pray for him or with him. Even as he bowed his head with hers, doubts and insanity swirled through his thoughts. Had he met her in a bar, praying would not have been his first thought at all.

Of course, considering what they were about to do this moment that was probably not what he should have been thinking about, but it went through his mind just the same. She was, after all, quite beautiful. Blonde hair that hung in waves down to just past her shoulders, beautiful brown eyes, a nice smile—yes, he would have taken her for a spin or two. And now, somehow, absurdly, here he was praying with her. What sense in what realm did that make?

“
God, we come to you today,” she said, and he shifted in his chair suddenly uncomfortable with all of it, “to ask for Your guidance. We know that all things are of Your making, that all times and seasons obey Your command, and that You have a plan in everything. Lord, we ask You to make Your understanding available to Ben. Show Him what to do, God, and give him the strength and the peace to do it.”

Thinking the prayer was over, Ben shifted back but stopped when she continued. Her head was still down, her eyes closed; she never knew he was looking right at her.

“
And Lord, I ask a special blessing on Ben. You know how much he is struggling in this decision and with his belief in You. I ask only that You reveal Yourself to him so that in the coming days he will always know that at this moment You were truly right here with him.”

If the angels were not singing, it sure felt like they were.

“
Thank You God for every great and perfect gift that You give us—even the ones that sometimes don’t feel like it. All these things we lift up to You. Amen.”

Stunned and feeling like he’d just been hit by a bolt of white, hot lightning, Ben blinked twice, searching for reality. Two feet from him, she opened her eyes and smiled in a way that pierced right through the center of his heart.

“
Did that help?” she asked after a moment of silence between them, and the softness in her voice cradled him as he had never been held.

“
Y-yeah. It did.”

A moment of her eyes being only on him, and then she cut her gaze to the papers. “If you want me to let you have some time…”

“
No.” He knew he shook his head, but he didn’t know how. “No.” Peace flooded his soul. “I’m ready now.” And as if it was the easiest decision he had ever made, he turned and signed the four sets of papers that suddenly didn’t seem nearly so scary or overwhelming.

When they were signed, he let out a long sigh as a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. He thought through it all once more and then turned to her. “Thank you.”

“
You’re welcome.”

Things began moving very quickly for Ben at that point. In no time he was back in the neurology ICU wing, standing outside the double doors waiting. They had let him have one more private moment with his father before they removed all the wires and tubes. He hadn’t been any better at this visit than the last. The whole ordeal was grating on his nerves so that he felt like he might jump out of his skin at any moment.

He wished she hadn’t had to go back to work after the signing the papers thing, but honestly, he knew she couldn’t be there to hold his hand every step. However, he smiled slightly as he remembered her sitting there in Dr. Vitter’s office. For that moment it was certainly nice to have a friend.

“
Ben,” Dr. Vitter said, coming out of the doors, and Ben’s attention jerked up as he straightened from his leaning post on the wall. “They’re taking him down.”

It took more than a second for him to understand what the doctor was saying. Then he remembered the vast labyrinth of back hallways and staff only elevators. Of course they wouldn’t transfer a patient through the lobby. “Okay.” His senses came back to him, and it was humbling how very far afield his sanity had gone in the last couple of days. “Thank you, Doctor.”

Ben held his hand out to shake the older man’s hand.

“
I wish you all the best. Your father really was a wonderful man.”

“
Thank you.”

And with that, Ben turned and headed for the last time to the eighth floor elevators.

“
Kate,” Misty said from the telecom.

Kathryn pushed the button. “Yeah?”

“
They’re on their way with Mr. Warren.”

As he traveled down the elevator with the twelve other passengers, Ben wrapped one arm around his middle and let the other trail up to his neck. This was so awkward. He wondered if he wore a big sign on his forehead that said, “I just sold my dad down the river.”

Others in the elevator bantered on as if nothing in the world was wrong or out-of-sorts. He wondered how often he had shared an elevator with someone who had just signed papers, or just gotten the call, or just lost someone. He tried to think, to remember, but he couldn’t. Things looked so very different from this side of reality.

The ding of the elevator brought his attention back to the present moment. That was a good thing because there were times he felt like he might just zone out for good and never come back. Tired was part of it to be sure. But some of it was just existing in a realm he didn’t really understand and had never prepared himself for. Not that anyone really prepared for such things, but surely others had been much more prepared than he was.

Walking through the lobby and down the long hallway with the windows that looked out onto traffic, he let his steps slow and then slow some more. His heart was slamming in his chest. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t know how. Maybe by the time he got there his dad would already be gone. After all, they had said he might not be able to breathe on his own very long.

Disparate parts of him warred with each other—saying this or that would be better and then adamantly disputing that suggestion. At the door to the hospice, he stopped and heaved a sigh. What would life be like on the other side of the door? Yes, he had seen the lobby. He had even seen a room. He’d just never seen his father inside a room, and that scared him.

Trying to act like this was all perfectly within the realm of normal for him, he opened the door and strode up to the nurse’s desk in the middle.

The nurse from the first day looked up, and he turned on the charm that had always served him so well in the past. “Yes, they just brought my father…”

“
Ben.”

He fought to corral himself before he turned to greet Kathryn. It was much easier to play act I’m-fine with someone he didn’t really know. As she came to him, he lifted his hand to her. She smiled, but there was sadness and pity in it. That was such a trap. It asked him to remember that he was really here and why. “Kathryn.”

She shook his hand and then turned them both toward the lobby. “He’s in the corner room.”

They stepped away from the desk, and he noticed the nurse purposely go back to her work as if disappearing into the woodwork.

“
Would you like to see him now?” Kathryn asked, walking next to him but not reaching out to him or hurrying their steps.

“
I…” He cleared his throat desperately trying to get more out. “Hm. Um, I…”

Calm, compassionate brown eyes turned to him. “It’s okay. Everyone is nervous the first time. But it’s really not so bad.”

Only because she had the strength did he feel like he might not completely fall apart. “Okay.”

At the far end of the lobby and off to the right, she opened the door. Ben closed his eyes, feeling like his heart might turn him around and run without his even telling it to.

“
It’s okay,” she said softly, beckoning with her eyes as she stepped into the room.

One more swallow and Ben followed her inside. This room was the other’s twin. The same furniture, the same set up. The only thing different about it was the figure lying prone and motionless in the bed. Ben’s heart caught at the sight. The white hair, always so very dignified, was perfectly in place. His father would like that.

Grief overwhelmed him, and he balled his fist at his side, fighting the memories—the Sunday mornings when he would wake and take the paper to go into his father’s room, laying with him as he explained the world and life. How did they get here so fast?

“
Dad…” Tears flooded into Ben’s eyes, and he covered his face with his hand, ducking to hide the anguish. Even when his father was in the hospital, he’d never gotten this close—close enough to really see him. Now he was only steps away, no tubes, no wires to mask how very close to the abyss his father had come. “God, why?”

Choking on the emotions, he fought to breathe. Like the brush of a soft angel’s wing, her hand rubbed his shoulder and down his back. Knowing he would fall through the earth if he didn’t have something to hold onto, he turned and grabbed for her. Desperately he clung to her as pangs of heartache wrenched over him.

Over Ben’s quaking shoulder Kathryn looked at the man lying in the bed. The love of his son was palpable. It spoke of how very much the son must have been loved. She closed her eyes then and offered up a prayer for them both and a quiet plea for the strength and wisdom of God to be in her to get them through this.

Finally Ben pulled back, nodding and sniffing. From his pocket there was a small beep, and he dragged in a hard breath as he reached for it. With a beep, he had it on and to his ear. “This is Ben.” He scratched his head and turned from her into the depth of the room before going over to the couch. “Hey, Kell. Yeah…”

Kathryn caught his gaze when he glanced up, his eyes red, his face blotchy under the scruff of his darkened jawline. Her presence was no longer needed. “I’ll just be…” She pointed to the door and left to give him some privacy.

It would’ve been better for Ben’s nerves if she had stayed. He didn’t want to be left alone here. He thought about running after her, but he’d already shown himself for the pathetic weakling that he was. Crying on her shoulder? That had to be some kind of sick cliché somewhere. He sniffed the embarrassment down.

“
Ben?”

“
Yeah. I’m here. We just got him moved.”

“
How is he?” Misty asked as Kathryn came back out, trying to come up with enough paperwork to do that she would never have to think about how horrible that was.

“
Not good.” She glanced back at the door, feeling her own heart splintering into sharp shards. With a sigh, she shook her head. “Sometimes I really hate this job, you know that?”

Misty reached across the desk and patted her arm, which only brought up anger in the face of the helplessness. “They’re lucky to have you.”

“
Sometimes I really wish I could do more.”

“
They don’t need more. They just need someone to care.”

Memories of Mrs. Baker and her granddaughters slipped across her heart, and overwhelming grief swamped her. “I think I’m going to go down to the chapel for a few minutes. If you need me…”

Misty nodded. She’d seen Kathryn like this on more than one occasion. She’d even asked a couple times about Kathryn’s trips to the chapel. After awhile, the nurses all had come to take these visits in stride. They were just a part of Kathryn and how she chose to cope with the difficulties of her job.

She walked down the hallway that separated the two units and in the middle, she turned and went into the chapel. The lighting was soft and reflected off of the reddish-brown wood of the pews. There were only seven benches on each side of the small aisle. She took a seat in the back one by the stained glass window on the opposite side of the door in case anyone who needed to get closer came in.

Her heart was so very heavy with grief and helplessness. It panged forward, aching with the understanding of how useless she really was in the face of all of this. She wanted to make a difference. She wanted to ease the pain. But how could anyone do that? She, of all people, knew how little anyone else could really do.

She swiped at the tears now sliding down her face. “God,” she said softly, “I know You have a plan. I know You do, and I really believe that, but I have to be honest, this really hurts. It really does. These are good people, God. Why do they have to suffer so much?”

Reaching over, she snagged up a couple of tissues and wiped her eyes. As she sat there, the words of hurt and anger still pouring from her heart, her gaze slipped up to the crucifix. She looked into the sorrowful, anguished face of her Savior. “You know, huh? You do. You know what we’re going through. You watched Your Son suffer and die. I’ve got to tell You, God. It never gets any easier. I thought it would. It doesn’t…”

The snap of the door sent her gaze scurrying downward and her words into silent mode. If the families knew she came in here and talked to God out loud, they might think she’d truly lost it. They didn’t need thinking she had sanity issues. They had enough to deal with.