Grace called Selah and told her what had happened. “I promised him I’d stay here.”
“As you should, chiquita. How is he doing?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Sammy is fine. Don’t worry about him. Stay with your boss, and keep us posted. We’ll be praying, too.”
Grace phoned Brian to ask him to pray for Roman. She told him the situation and then said she needed to make another call.
Shanice answered immediately. “Hey, girlfriend, what happened? Is Roman okay?”
Grace started to cry. She’d held herself together as long as she could. Wrapping an arm around her middle, she rocked.
“Grace, honey? Talk to me.”
The words came, choked at first and then in a flood. “He went into cardiac arrest. He’s in surgery right now. Henry Mayo Newhall Hospital. Please get everyone praying. One minute he was standing, and the next he was dead. I couldn’t find a pulse and started CPR. A man took over, and Roman came back. I wanted to thank the man, but he was gone. And Roman—oh, Shanice, I’ve never seen anyone so scared. He looked like he’d seen hell.” She wiped tears away.
Others in the waiting room stared at her. She got up and went into the hallway. “He might die. And he doesn’t believe in Jesus. I’m so scared for him.”
“Don’t go down that road, honey. He’s alive. He’s in surgery. He has a chance. I’ll call Ashley. She’ll activate the church prayer chain and let Nicole know what’s happened. I’ve got my keys in hand right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just stay cool, Grace. God’s in charge. Remember that.”
An hour passed. The waiting room emptied until she was the last person waiting for news. She wasn’t family, but who else did Roman have? Jasper! The Mastersons! Why hadn’t she thought to call them? Should she? They should know. She decided to wait until she had more definite news before calling Jasper. He would know how to reach Chet and Susan.
Another hour passed. Grace paced. Would hospital staff allow her in recovery or ICU? What if Roman didn’t make it? What if he’d died and no one bothered to tell her? Maybe the shift had changed and those at the desk didn’t know she was still waiting. She was afraid to ask. No news was better than bad news.
“Grace?”
Gasping, Grace lifted her head. “Oh, Brian.” Bursting into tears, she flew into his arms.
He held her closer, chin resting on top of her head. “I got here as soon as I could. How is he?”
“I don’t know.” She drew back. When he pulled out a handkerchief, she took it. “I haven’t heard anything.”
“Sit. I’ll go check and be right back.”
Grace couldn’t read his expression when he returned. He sat beside her and took her hand. “He’ll be out of surgery soon. You won’t be able to see him for a while.” He squeezed her hand gently. “How long since you’ve eaten?”
“I don’t remember. We were stopping for supper. I don’t want to leave. The doctor might come. Someone has to come sometime, don’t they?”
“You need to eat something. I’ll be back.” He left the waiting room.
Shanice arrived a few minutes later, looking harried. “Sorry it took so long. There was an accident. I thought I’d never get here. Oh, honey.” She hugged Grace. They sat on the sofa together. “The whole church is praying. You’re shaking. Try to breathe.”
Brian came back with a vending machine sandwich and a bottle of orange juice. He stopped in the doorway. “Hello.” He stared at Shanice.
“Hi, Brian. I know you from your picture. I set up the first date.”
“Oh. A thank-you would be in order. And you are . . . ?”
Grace remembered her manners. “This is Shanice. She’s my best friend. And you can give her the sandwich. I’m not very hungry.”
Shanice held out her hand. “She’ll eat it if I have to stuff it down her throat. Ask the powers that be what’s happening, would you?”
“He already did.” Grace glanced toward the door, wishing someone would come.
Shanice looked at Brian. “No harm in checking again.”
He left, and Shanice patted Grace’s knee. “Sometimes a pastor can get more information than a regular citizen.” She gave Grace an encouraging smile. “Eat up, honey. You won’t do Velasco any good if you go in looking like death warmed over.”
Brian returned. “We should hear something soon.”
A doctor came in half an hour later. “Grace?” She followed him into the hall. The surgery had gone well. Roman now had an ICD, an implantable cardioverter defibrillator, a small computer that would regulate and monitor his heart. “He’s lucky to be alive. He’s probably had a few episodes and didn’t know what they were. Has he ever blacked out before today?”
“I don’t know.” She remembered finding him sprawled across the bed once. She’d assumed he was sleeping.
Before going into ICU, she cleaned her hands with antibacterial gel and put on a mask. The doctor opened the door for her and spoke softly. “We’ll keep him here for twenty-four hours and then move him into a room, barring complications. Good thing he’s in peak physical condition. Is he an athlete?”
“An artist.”
He looked relieved. “His heart was an easy fix. We have another doctor handling his leg.”
“What’s wrong with his leg?”
“Can’t say.”
He couldn’t say, or he didn’t know? When could Roman have injured his leg?
Though he was still clearly in pain, Roman’s color had improved. He was tethered to monitors beeping heart rate, oxygen levels, blood pressure. An IV drip stood beside the bed, the needle inserted in the top of his hand. A thin tube connected to a bag measuring urine. His eyes were open, wide-open. “Grace.” He breathed out her name, his body relaxing.
Grace moved to the side of his bed and took his hand. “I told you I’d stay.” She managed to smile. “You’re doing better than the last time I saw you.”
His hand tightened on hers.
Her emotions tumbled one over another. She didn’t want to think about how much she cared about him, and what kind of complications that would bring to their working relationship—not now. “A lot of people are praying for you, Roman. I hope you don’t mind that I spread the word.”
“No.”
“Brian and Shanice are in the waiting room.”
“He got me out.”
Grace didn’t understand. “You don’t have to talk right now. Try to rest.”
He squeezed her hand again. “I was in hell.”
Grace felt goose bumps rise all over her body. Leaning down, she put her free hand on his forehead. “What are you saying?”
“Jesus,” Roman rasped. “He got me out. They were hanging on to me. Ripping at my leg.”
A nurse checked one of the machines. “He’s under medication.” He came around the bed and injected something into a small port attached to Roman’s IV. He gave Grace an understanding smile. “Another minute, and you should go. He needs to rest.”
Roman’s body tensed. “She stays.” When he looked up at the IV drip, his expression changed. The heart monitor beeped faster. “What’d you put in it?”
“Just something to help you relax.”
Roman’s eyes fixed on Grace. “Don’t let them put me under. Oh, Jesus, don’t let me die again.”
The nurse frowned. “I guess you can stay with him a while longer.” He made an entry on the computer terminal. “I’ll check back in a few minutes.” He left the room.
Roman’s grip loosened, but he didn’t let go of her hand. He groaned. “That nurse put something in the IV.” His eyes drooped. He widened them, fighting sleep. “Jesus, I don’t want to die. I’m not ready to die.”
Grace couldn’t bear it. She cupped his face. “Listen to me, Roman. Jesus would not rescue you from hell and then throw you back.”
“It grabbed me. It ripped me . . .”
“Roman.” She spoke quietly, calmly. “Jesus saved you.”
He looked broken and confused. “Why?”
What could she say to that? “He’ll tell you later.”
He was losing the battle against whatever medication had been added to the IV. “Don’t go.”
“They may not let me stay, but I promise I’ll come back.”
He couldn’t keep his eyes open. “My mother used to say that.”