“I think I did a little too much today,” she said to me as we took our time walking to the car. “I just want my pain medication and sleep.”
Once we were home, Liz dressed for bed and then called me in to help. Sitting on the edge of her mattress in sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt, she let me tend to her, retrieving an extra blanket and a glass of water and her pills.
“I guess pain is the great equalizer, huh?” she mused, uncapping the bottle and tapping out one round white pill into her palm. “Let me tell you, it’s not easy for an independent, headstrong woman to be so vulnerable. So needy. It’s making me crazy.”
“And yet it is often in need that God’s voice can most easily be heard,” I said.
She tossed the pill into her mouth and then reached for the glass of water.
“Oh, yeah?” she asked after she’d swallowed. “And what might God be saying to me now, if you don’t mind my asking?”
I shrugged, wishing I could help her understand. “Maybe that independence is overrated. That need creates community. That by allowing others to help you, you are actually giving them a gift in return.”
She handed back the glass of water and then leaned against the pillows, shifting to raise her injured leg onto the bed. “I was with you till you got to that ‘gift’ part.”
I set the water on the nightstand and then grabbed an extra pillow from the side chair. She held her leg up while I propped the pillow under it.
“Really? But you’re a nurse, Liz. And you do mission work. You more than anyone should know how good it feels to help others.”
Her eyes widened as she seemed to connect the dots.
“The way I see it, the needier you are right now, the more blessed I am to be able to care for you. It’s really that simple. And in the caring, the bonds we share are strengthened and renewed. That’s how community works.”
Her eyelids were looking heavy. I pulled the covers over her and then asked if she needed anything else. She said no, she was fine, so I wished her a good night and headed for the door.
“Hey, Ty?” she said as I reached for the light switch.
I turned to look back at her. “Ya?”
“How did you get so wise?”
The question touched me deeply even as it brought heat to my cheeks.
I smiled. “It’s God’s Word that is wise, not me,” I replied, not knowing what else to say. She didn’t respond, so I shut off the light and was just pulling the door closed when she spoke again.
“You’re a good son,” she uttered in a voice so soft I wasn’t even sure if she’d meant to say it aloud.
The next day, Saturday, I checked my cell phone the moment I awoke to make sure it was fully charged. It was, but I left it plugged in anyway, just to be safe. My last call with Rachel had ended so badly that I would do whatever it took to make this one okay.
I served Liz some oatmeal with nuts and raisins and then told her I thought I’d spend the morning detailing the inside of my dad’s new muscle car if she didn’t think he would mind.
“I think he’d like that very much. He’s calling me later this morning. I could ask him, but I think we should keep it a surprise.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Having the car to work on made the morning hours fly by. I knew very little about what was under the hood, but the leather upholstery was something I could clean, mend, and fix like a pro. After all, I’d been doing the same thing on buggies for years.
Out in the garage, I opened the doors to let in some air and light and set to work on the backseat. When I came in at lunchtime, Liz was on the couch with her leg on its bed of pillows and Brady, still in his pajamas, was watching TV.
I offered to make grilled cheese sandwiches, and then Liz told me my dad was hoping to get home by Wednesday. The TV was on during lunch and everyone did their own thing while they ate. Rachel and I were supposed to talk at one o’clock, so at ten minutes till I finished up the dishes and told Liz and Brady that I would be unavailable for the next half hour or so and why. Then I retrieved my phone and headed out into the backyard.
The device trilled right on time, and I answered it by blurting out the first thing that came to my mind. “Rachel? I’m so glad you called!”
The line was silent in response, and after a moment I feared she wasn’t the one on the other end after all. I pulled the phone from my face to check the number on the screen before putting it back to my ear. “Hello? Rach?”
“Hi, Tyler, I’m here,” she replied, her voice lilting and familiar. “You just startled me, is all. I wasn’t prepared for…It’s just that our last phone call…”
“Our last phone call was a disaster, and then my stupid cell died before I had the chance to say goodbye and to tell you that I love you. But I do. I love you so much. And I miss you like crazy.”
She exhaled a sigh, one that felt weighted by more than just air. It was as if she’d been holding in a breath she’d been afraid to let go. In that moment it felt as if all had been restored between us.
“I love you too, Tyler. And I miss you like crazy.”