CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Amelia let herself into her apartment, then leaned back against the door, her purse and bag sliding to the floor at her feet. She stayed there for a moment, then straightened to shrug off her jacket. After hanging it on the nearby hook, she made her way to the couch in the living room.
Dropping back into the comfortable cushions, she stared out the balcony sliding doors at the gray and dreary sky beyond. It had been a long day, and she was exhausted. But it wasn’t just her normal exhaustion. This went beyond that.
For the past few weeks, she’d been meeting with the pastor’s wife, who was a Christian counselor, to work through the mess of emotions she carried because of the situation with her health.
The previous week, Mrs. Simmons had given her a selection of short Bible passages to read every day. They were from the Psalms that David had written during his darkest hours. Those moments when he had questioned where God was.
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
The verses had resonated strongly with Amelia, to the extent that earlier that day, when the counselor had asked how she was feeling, everything she’d pushed down for the past two years had broken free and risen to the surface.
The question hadn’t been probing, necessarily. It was something Mrs. Simmons had asked her at the start of each session.
However, in her current state of mind, the question had been like a sharp instrument, and Amelia’s emotions had been like an infected wound.
The question had pierced her, and everything she’d carried for so long poured out in a mighty gush.
The tight hold she’d kept on her emotions had finally loosened, spilling out in the privacy of Mrs. Simmons’ office.
The anger. The hurt. The embarrassment. The sense of failure. The confusion. The feelings of isolation. The pain… both physical and emotional.
It had all come spilling out, purging the ugliness that had invaded her soul for over two years. As the pastor’s wife had held her, Amelia had fallen apart and cried for God’s grace and mercy. For His forgiveness for her anger towards Him.
It had been frightening at first, to lose that sense of control. But after the storm of emotions had passed, a peace that she had never experienced before had blanketed her.
For the first time in years, she’d felt like she could breathe. The clouds in her thoughts had cleared, and she’d finally felt free of the emotional chains that had trapped her since she’d been forced to retire. And she was so grateful she’d taken Layla’s advice.
Initially, when Layla had suggested that she go for counseling, Amelia had resisted. But a month after she’d told Ben she needed time and space, she’d finally hit a moment when she’d acknowledged to herself that she needed help.
Just as she’d gone to a sports psychiatrist for help with her mental state when the pressures of competitive skating had gotten to her, Amelia had finally understood that she needed help with how overwhelmed she felt by everything surrounding her retirement and her health.
Her weekly sessions with the pastor’s wife had been difficult at first. However, the woman had been gentle with her, guiding Amelia through everything she was dealing with. And it had worked.
Amelia didn’t believe that she was healed or that she’d never have a bad day again. But her outlook had changed, and she no longer feared what the future might hold for her.
As she got to her feet to get her bag, Amelia’s thoughts went to Ben, as they so often did.
It had been nearly three months since she’d last seen him. And she missed him terribly. However, she knew she had done the right thing in sending him away.
Their time apart had given her the space she needed to focus fully on her emotional and physical state. It hadn’t meant that he was out of her life, however.
The day after that evening on his boat, he’d requested one thing. He had asked that she text him once a day with her pain and fatigue levels. In addition to rating the pain and fatigue, he’d also asked that she include a marker for her mental state.
She’d been reluctant initially, but it seemed a small thing to do for him. So each morning when she got up, Amelia would give herself about an hour, and then she’d send the text to Ben.
At first, she’d thought it would be his way of initiating a conversation each day. However, that hadn’t been the case.
In response to her daily texts, he would send back two emojis. The heart and the praying hands. Those two images gave her more encouragement than she had thought they would.
She hadn’t sent detailed descriptions with the numbers she gave him, and he hadn’t sent any lengthy responses. And yet that daily interaction had come to mean the world to her.
When the security buzzer broke the silence of the apartment, Amelia looked over her shoulder at the door. Pushing up from the couch, she made her way to the panel and pressed the button to open the door. There was no need to ask who it was. She knew.
Opening the door, she leaned against the door jamb and watched the stairs. Soon, the top of a curly head of hair appeared, followed shortly after by the lanky body of a teenage boy.
He lifted his hand when he spotted her. “Hey, Miss Amelia.”
“Hey there, Brandon.” She smiled at him as he approached her. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing good.”
“How’s basketball practice going?”
The teenager’s face lit up. “Great! I’m so glad I went to the clinics this summer. Coach says I’ve really improved.”
“That’s great to hear.”
“Here’s your food,” he said, holding out a large paper bag.
Amelia took it carefully from him. “Thank you so much.”
She’d tried to tip him the first time he’d brought a delivery, but Brandon had told her that it had already been taken care of.
“You’re welcome.” Brandon took a few backward steps, lifting his hand. “See you around.”
Amelia watched as he turned and jogged toward the stairs. Once he’d disappeared, she went back into the apartment and let the door shut behind her. Setting the bag on the dining table, she opened it and peered inside.
She lifted out the milkshake, and then a closed container. It was always fun to guess what meal Ben had chosen for her when she received these deliveries. Opening the lid of the container, she saw it was a chicken wrap with French fries.
Shortly after Ben had left Serenity, random deliveries began to appear. Or at least they had appeared random at first. It had taken her a while, but eventually she’d seen the pattern.
On the high-fatigue days, a meal would arrive, usually from the deli. On high emotional days, a bouquet of flowers would show up. The high pain days usually brought her a meal or a gift of some sort.
The same teen delivered everything, and Amelia thought perhaps Ben had hired him as his personal errand boy.
It became clear that Ben was not leaving quietly. When she asked him for time and space, Amelia had expected a similar unfolding of events as the last time she’d asked him to leave her.
But Ben, the man, was not giving up in the way that Benji, the teen, had.
She liked to think it was a sign of his maturity that he was supporting her from a distance without infringing on the space she'd requested.
It was also probably partly because he was no longer in Serenity, so he couldn’t take care of her in person. Just days after she'd asked for space, she'd heard via the family grapevine that he’d returned to New York.
Amelia had been relieved and disappointed all at once. Relieved because it removed the possibility of running into him around town, but at the same time, disappointed because she’d miss seeing him.
But now, for the first time since that evening on the boat, Amelia felt hopeful about a relationship with Ben. At the very least, she was able to consider the whole situation with a much clearer mind.
The next morning, Amelia got out of bed and began to prepare for her Saturday. Her night hadn’t been great, but that wasn’t unexpected.
She was learning to take the pain and fatigue more in stride. Now that she’d gotten to where she’d finally accepted her diagnosis, she was taking the steps to manage the symptoms better.
Previously, she’d dealt with the symptoms with a heart full of resentment. Acceptance hadn’t been something she was interested in.
After putting on a load of laundry, Amelia made herself a cup of coffee. Cupping it in her hands, she wandered over to the sliding glass balcony door. Pushing aside the curtain covering it, she saw that the gray dreariness from the previous day was still hanging on.
She let the curtain fall back into place, then went to sit on the couch. After setting the mug on the table, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her baggy sweatpants.
Once she had her text conversations with Ben up on her screen, Amelia sat for a moment, as she did each day, taking stock of herself.
She tapped out the numbers for her pain and fatigue—4-5—but then she paused as she considered what number to use for her emotional state.
She’d never felt so at peace before, so after a moment, she added the number, using the lowest digit they’d agreed to on the 1-10 scale.
A smile crossed her face as she stared at the number.
4-5-1
She had no idea how Ben might react to it, but she thought he’d be happy.
Picking up her mug, she remembered the card that was tucked into the Bible on her nightstand. At the end of their session the previous day, Mrs. Simmons had given her a new notecard with more verses to read each day.
These verses were different from the previous ones. The first ones had shown that even David had experienced moments of wondering where God was in his suffering.
These new verses were more hopeful. And one in particular had resonated with her.
Psalm 34:1.
I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.
Any thought of praising the Lord had been impossible over the past two years. She hadn’t wanted to think of praising the Lord.