Unexpected Reunion. Carolyn Greene
There are some side effects from the stronger medication, but surgery to remove the thrombus is even riskier. So we’re going to keep her for several days to watch and wait for it to dissolve.”
Ruthie’s heart sank. She could read between those lines. It would be touch and go for the next few days until she was out of harm’s way.
“No worries,” Naoko said, her voice tired from the strain of her ordeal. Her skin, normally a warm amber color, now held a grayish cast. Her fingers closed around her grandson’s hand, and she pointed at the ceiling. “I am in God’s hands. He will get me through.”
Ruthie gave a silent prayer of thanks that Naoko was still with them. She had no doubt God had been with her all along. Her condition could have become much worse. Naoko wasn’t out of the woods yet, but she would receive the benefit of the prayers of her and the family—most of the family—and the church.
She wondered whether Naoko’s words were intended to assure the family or herself. Their effect on Gray, however, was clear. A muscle twitched along his temple, and he extended his hand to the doctor.
“Thank you for all you’ve done so far, Doctor.”
They followed him into the hall and lingered together after the doctor left. Ruthie wanted to reassure Gray that, as Naoko had said, she was in God’s hands. “Everyone who knows Sobo—and many who don’t—will be praying for her,” she said, laying a hand on his thick arm. “She’s a strong woman, and God’s healing touch will help her recover.”
Gray turned his gaze away from her. “I’d rather count on the skill of the doctor and the medicine she’s receiving. That’s what will save her.”
Ruthie reacted as if she’d been punched in the gut. In a manner of speaking, she had been. Church had been an important part of their upbringing, both hers and Gray’s. Whenever healing occurred, it was understood that although physicians and medications were valuable tools in the process, true healing ultimately came from God. He was the one who gave the doctors wisdom and enabled the medicines to work. To deny God’s role in Sobo’s recovery sounded to her ears as if Gray was offering his loved one up to the whims of chance and limited earthly abilities.
“Then I suppose we have all the bases covered,” she said, letting him know without arguing the point that although he dismissed all but what he could see with his own eyes, she and the rest of the family would continue to put their faith in prayer.
He must certainly know, without her saying so, that God was the great healer. What he didn’t know was that for the past four years she had prayed every day for God to heal Gray’s shaken faith. Once her prayers were answered and Gray opened his heart enough to let God back in, she would ask God to make room in there for her, as well.
Chapter Two
“Thanks for your help yesterday, Paisley. I don’t know what I would have done without you and Savannah pitching in to keep Gleanings open while I was at the hospital.” Ruthie took a seat at the counter in Milk & Honey and gently pushed aside a ceramic Peter Rabbit to make room for her elbows.
Paisley moved behind the counter and flipped the switch to backlight what she called her higgledy-piggledy wall...shelves divided into cubes and filled with various sorts of teapots, spoon collections, antique cups, honeypots, snow globes and porcelain crumpet baskets. A British transplant, Paisley loved sharing bits of her homeland with customers.
In the seating area behind Ruthie, tables were given the illusion of privacy by separating them with low shelves strategically filled with packets of flavored teas, jars of jam, notecards, knickknacks, tea cozies and anything British to entice diners to take home a little memento of their Milk & Honey experience. Over to the side of the store, tucked away in locked display cases, were the real treasures—silver tea sets, rare water pitchers and ornate sugar bowls. The more unusual the better, and if the piece had an interesting story behind it, better still.
On the opposite side of the dining counter, Paisley lit the fire under a cast-iron skillet and set a glass of orange juice in front of Ruthie.
“No problem. I was happy to help,” Paisley replied. Her accent always sounded so elegant and cultured. It was a huge draw for the customers. She refilled the coffee cup of an older gentleman sporting a white handlebar mustache and handed Ruthie a sheet featuring this week’s specials. “We sold a few of Mr. Bristow’s gewgaws yesterday, and a lovely Asian lady was quite excited about a quaint little Japanese doll she found.”
The kissing dolls. Ruthie hadn’t planned to keep them, but neither had she anticipated their sale would hit her so hard in the solar plexus.
“That’s great,” she said, her voice not quite matching Paisley’s enthusiasm. “Was it Chou from the Tokyo Market down the street? Sobo loves to shop there.”
“No, I’ve seen this lady a couple of times before, so I assume she’s local, but I don’t know who she is. Speaking of Mrs. Bristow, what’s the latest on her status?”
Ruthie gave her a full update with the unfortunate news that the redness and swelling on Naoko’s leg showed no improvement.
“She’ll be fine,” her friend reassured. Taking advantage of the momentary lull, she poured herself a cup of tea and flashed a guilty grin before she snitched one of the biscotti from the tin. “The whole church is praying for her. And besides, she’s a tough lady. Remember the time when we were in university, and she climbed up on the roof of our house to replace some shingles?”
“Pop was furious when he found out. He kept going on about her falling and possibly getting a concussion.” Ruthie took a sip of her freshly squeezed juice. “Come to think of it, that was his same concern when she fell off the rose trellis a couple of days ago. He kept telling her, ‘Thank God you didn’t crack your head.’”
“It’s sweet, actually. He’s madly protective of her.”
The acorn didn’t fall very far from the Bristow tree. In that regard Gray was a lot like his grandfather. Ruthie mentally kicked herself for letting her attention drift back to the man who still held the pieces of her broken heart in his strong hands.
She must have cracked her own head to think that she could pray her former fiancé back to God and to herself. But if God didn’t give up on lost sheep, then she certainly wouldn’t give up on Gray.
She focused on the specials menu, then looked over at Mustache Man at the end of the counter, who was digging into a hearty English breakfast. “What he’s having looks good. Is that French toast?”
“Eggy bread? No.”
Ruthie had never heard the refined Paisley snort before. This was a first.
“It’s fried bread. I’ll do a nice British fry-up for you, complete with egg, bacon, sausage, tomato and a dab of beans.” She turned to the skillet and talked over her shoulder. “Now fess up. You’ve deliberately avoided telling me how you fared with Gray yesterday.”
So much for taking her mind off him. Ruthie shrugged. “There’s nothing to say. I’m not really sure what that was about, though. After these past six months avoiding each other, he suddenly wanted me at the hospital with him. Constantly.”
It had been nice to be close to him after all this time apart, but also stressful because there had been so much left unsaid between them.
She fought to keep her voice strong, to look at Paisley directly when all she wanted was to bury her head in her arms and cry like a baby. But she was stronger than that now. She could do this. With effort she could convince Paisley and her friends that she no longer felt anything for Gray. Convincing her own heart was another matter.
“But after he drove me home,” she continued, “he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”
“Perhaps he wanted to kiss you goodbye and was just avoiding temptation.” Paisley pulled a batch of scones from the oven, topped one with clotted cream and jam, set it on a scalloped-edge