Chapter Twenty-One
NURSE ABBOTT BARELY ALLOWED FOR a half-hour visit, and Ezekiel wanted nothing more than to fight her for more time.
The panic in Nora’s face when Nurse Abbott told Mrs. Davis it was time to go was as crushing as finding Ma in her room.
Helplessness overwhelmed him as he watched Nora cling to her ma and sob as hard as she had in his arms. Over and over she declared how much she loved Mrs. Davis, and pleaded for her to get better because Nora needed her.
Mrs. Davis had clung just as hard, her words indecipherable over Nora’s repeated ones.
How could anyone with a beating heart separate them?
Even Nurse Abbott had been frozen by the display.
It was Ma who eventually stepped forward and gently pulled Nora from Mrs. Davis.
“‘The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart.’ Be at peace, dear. God has given you Ezekiel to take care of you.” She shifted Nora into his arms, and gave him the you-better-do-it-right look.
“And I’ll take care of your ma for as long as I’m here. ”
Nora’s watery eyes looked to him for confirmation. Or maybe hope. Comfort? Strength? Quite possibly all of it, but he felt as bereft and in shock as she.
Was Ma’s as long as I’m here a reference to her length of stay at Longview before returning home to him, or a reference to her not coming home at all?
“Ma, I love you. Please, still be here the next time I come. Remember, ‘God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.’” His usual goodbye felt desperate.
She patted his arm. “I enjoyed playing with you again. You two”—she nodded toward Nora—“write beautiful music together.” She gave his arm a final squeeze, then joined Nurse Abbott and Mrs. Davis.
“That had better not be a forever goodbye, Ma.”
She didn’t acknowledge him but petted Tristan perched on the settee a few times before closing the door on her exit.
His chest constricted. Had he too just had his last conversation with Ma?
He’d redirected her comments to happier things while they’d played, but she kept returning to speaking of her life’s end and wanting to rush through heaven’s gates.
Heaven was indeed a place to look forward to, but not this way.
Not in entering through premature means.
The general opinion of others didn’t support the idea that heaven was possible for those who killed themselves.
But Ma loved Jesus, without a doubt. Her soul was in His hands, and eternity with Him promised.
If salvation covered all past, present, and future sins, then even suicide must be forgiven.
It was testament only to a moment of weakness, not to the state of her soul.
At least that was the hope he clung to. He couldn’t entertain anything less.
That and somehow Longview would pull her free of the darkness and provide her a light of hope for a future here on earth.
He would not take Nurse Abbott’s quiet notification that Ma had been moved to a more closely watched ward as discouragement.
They were doing all they could to help her.
Just because Ma seemed to crawl deeper into the cave of despair didn’t mean she couldn’t still walk out.
Nora trembled in his arms, reminding him he was not the only one shaken. He settled them on the couch until they both could gain their bearings and leave. “Did you say what you wanted?”
She tucked into his side as if she belonged there and drew a shaky breath.
“Yes and no. She told me she wanted to confess her sins to a priest, but they denied her one. They’re afraid it will validate her claim to be Katherine Yates.
I spent most of our time explaining how Christ is the one we confess to.
He is the only one who can grant forgiveness.
I don’t know if she understood, but maybe she’ll find peace even if she never gets better. ” She swiped furiously at her tears.
“It’s okay to cry, Nora. This hurts, and frankly it is a little frightening, but at least we can lean in to each other and to God with this burden.
May He preserve both our parents.” He hesitated before speaking again.
He’d never been one to pray aloud, let alone with another person, but he desperately wanted to do this right.
To fight for their parents in the only way left to them.
“I know we should probably pray. That’s what they’d tell us if we were at church, but I don’t think I have the words. ”
She chuckled. “You, not have the words? That is shocking. But I think we’re fine. Somewhere it says He hears the groanings of our hearts. We don’t have to say anything. We can just sit here and let our hearts groan together.”
The image it evoked brought a measure of comfort. “I like that.”
“Maybe for about two minutes.”
He wouldn’t argue with the tease. As much as the levity was a balm, he just didn’t have the energy.
Nora was right. Sometimes all a person had was groans to offer up to God.
It was a good thing God had written the language of the heart, because Ezekiel couldn’t even begin to translate how his hurt and grieved.
They stayed sitting in aching silence until Tristan decided he had an interest in the piano and sprinted down the keyboard with a discordant crash.
“I think that is our cue to leave.” Ezekiel rose to his feet. “Will you hold his basket while I put him in?”
Together they wrangled Tristan into his temporary prison, then they left Longview behind.
As their hack trundled down the drive, Ezekiel turned to a quiet Nora. “How can I best support you? Would you like me to escort you to a friend’s so you’re not alone?”
“No. I love the Guardians, but all I want is to go home, eat a big plate of crackers and sardines, and then curl up in bed and forget today ever happened.”
“I don’t know. There are parts of today I never want to forget.”
She looked up at him, confusion stamped on her expression. Not that he could blame her. The last hour had been one of the most miserable of his life, but there had been bright moments.
“For example, I never want to forget hearing you say my given name for the first time or the way you felt in my arms or how your lips felt against mine.”
She straightened away from him and glared. “We did not kiss, sir.”
“Too bad. Maybe we can still fix that. You are my fiancée, after all.”
Lingering heaviness mixed with her laugh. “You are a scoundrel, Don Giovanni.” Even as she said it, she returned to leaning against him. After a loud, slow breath, she regarded him with warm admiration. “Thank you for making me laugh. I needed it.”
“Any time.” He refrained from kissing the top of her head again.
She hadn’t noticed that first silent but intimate declaration that she was his.
He had to take things slow, even though what he really wanted was a soul-twining kiss that communicated their shared burdens and support of each other in ways words never could.
It would come eventually. She didn’t fully trust him yet, and they still had many hurdles ahead, but God willing, he would court and marry her.
They were quiet for a while as each absorbed the events of the afternoon. As the hack reached the edge of the bustling city, he looked down at her again and said, “I know today has probably been one of the worst of your life, so I’ll understand if you need me not to come by tomorrow.”
“Please come. I need today and tonight to wade through my emotions, but your deadline is approaching, and I think the distraction of music may be exactly what I need.”
“Then I’ll be there as soon as I can after feeding Tristan.”
“Bring him. He’s a terror, to be sure, but he’s a comfort too. I’m sure Mrs. Jerden won’t mind.”
“Anything for you, Donna Anna.”
That earned him an elbow to the stomach, but he couldn’t help the smile. His heart ached with the pain of today, but it also held hope for better days to come.
What had she done? Constanza wrung her hands as Nurse Abbott escorted her down the dim gaslit corridor.
Even the fog of medicine couldn’t shroud her from dire consequences.
She should never have confessed she was Katherine Yates.
Unless she convinced Dr. Chalfant she was his version of healed, she would never see Eleonora again.
Her sweet girl, who’d always maintained her composure, had sobbed and clung to Constanza as tight as the night she’d escaped Winston.
She’d failed Eleonora. Again.
In her selfish quest to be absolved, she’d laid her family on the altar of her ego.
She’d known when she wrote her confession that it would hinder her release, and she hadn’t cared.
Why should she want release when Marcellus didn’t want her and Winston would be more likely to find Eleonora?
Eleonora was a strong girl making her own way in the world.
She had friends who took her on adventures and taught her all the things Constanza had been miserable at.
Nora hadn’t really needed Constanza around for anything more than their once-a-week lessons.
Or so she’d thought.
Eleonora’s sobs and begging for her to discard her identities as Constanza and Katherine had shown her how wrong she’d been. Eleonora did need her, and she needed Eleonora.