Chapter 58
The world came back in soft waves, and Summer sighed sleepily, listening to the gentle murmurs around her, trying to place where she was and what she was doing.
It was dark wherever she was. And quiet.
Except for a muted whispering sound, soothing and sweet, and yet heart-rending.
Her eyes fluttered open to search for the source.
It took a moment for everything to come into focus, but once it did, Summer’s heart shattered and healed again a thousand times. Somehow, some way, Benjamin was here. He sat at the side of her bed, his forehead braced against clasped hands, and she realized the whispering sound was him praying. For her.
“Benjamin.” The word came out as barely a whisper, but his head shot up as if she had shouted.
“Hey,” he whispered back. “How are you feeling?” His forehead was creased with worry as his hand came to her face, his fingers grazing her cheek.
“I’m . . .” A sudden memory swept over her, and her hand shot to her abdomen. She winced as it hit a strip of bandages.
“The baby is okay,” Benjamin said quietly.
“Oh.” Tears sprang to her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but a sob tore through her.
Benjamin’s arms were instantly around her. He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair back from her face. “It’s okay.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she choked into his shoulder.
“I know,” he soothed. “And I forgive you.”
“No, but Benjamin—” She started, but he gently shook his head.
“We can talk about it later, Summer. I promise. But right now, there’s something else I need to tell you.” He looked grave, and she stilled.
“Mama?”
Benjamin nodded. “The doctor says it’s not looking good.” He squeezed her hand. “If you’re up to it, we should go see her before . . .”
Summer closed her eyes, trying to work up the strength.
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Benjamin promised.
Summer nodded, and he called for a nurse, who brought a wheelchair. Benjamin carefully helped her into it, and she clutched her hands in her lap as he steered her through the hospital’s winding corridors into the elevator.
“Benjamin?” she said as it started upward. “I have to tell you something.” And she knew it couldn’t wait another moment.
“What’s that?” He sounded sightly wary, but he stepped around the wheelchair and squatted in front of her, resting his hands on her lap.
“I know this might not be the best time or place but—”
“If you’re going to try to tell me to leave,” he interrupted, “you should know it’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not going to tell you to leave.” She wrapped her hands around his. “I’m going to tell you to stay. I’m going to tell you . . .” She took a quick breath. “That I love you.” The words felt so good that she couldn’t suppress a little, joyful laugh.
Benjamin’s smile could have lit up the whole city. “It’s always a good time and place for that.” He raised himself enough to lean in and kiss her, long and slow and deep.
Vaguely, Summer registered a ding and the sound of someone clearing their throat.
Benjamin pulled back, still grinning at Summer, then scooted around the wheelchair and pushed her out of the elevator with a cheerful, “Sorry about that” to the nurse who was waiting to get on.
Summer couldn’t stop smiling as he pushed her down another maze of corridors. But then he stopped in front of a closed door.
Summer felt her smile fade, and a prickle of fear went through her stomach. What were they going to find on the other side of that door?
Benjamin’s hands came to her shoulders. “Are you ready?”
She let herself lean into him for a moment, gathering strength from his presence, then nodded. He leaned past her to push the door open and wheeled her inside.
Mama lay in the hospital bed, monitors and tubes flowing into her like a maze. She didn’t move as Benjamin pushed Summer closer to the bed, and Summer closed her eyes.
Maybe it would be better to turn around and leave. To remember Mama like this. Rather than by the hurtful words that were bound to come out of her mouth if they stayed.
“So you’re all right.” Mama’s voice was thin and raspy, nothing like the voice that had cursed Summer out a thousand times in her life.
“I’m okay.” Summer gestured for Benjamin to wheel her to the side of the bed.
Mama looked from Summer to Benjamin, whose hands rested on her shoulders, still imparting his strength to her.
“I’ll give you this,” Mama said to Benjamin. “You don’t quit easy.”
“No, ma’am.” Benjamin chuckled.
“Hmm,” was Mama’s only reply as she turned her head to stare at the ceiling again.
“Do you need anything, Mama?”
Mama grunted. “I’m dying, Summer. What could I possibly need?”
Me, Summer’s heart cried out. You could need me, your daughter, to be with you.
“Do you want us to go?” she asked quietly.
Mama’s head shake was barely visible. Benjamin pulled a chair up next to Summer’s wheelchair and sat, reaching over the armrest to take her hand.
She smiled at him, but she could feel her lips wobble. The doctors hadn’t been able to give them a timeline other than “not long.” She should say goodbye to her mama. But what could she possibly say?
“I— Um— We have news,” she finally managed, smiling weakly at Benjamin, who nodded his encouragement. “We’re going to have a baby.”
Mama snorted. “Well, no kidding. Didn’t I tell you that weeks ago?”
“You asked, but that wasn’t— I mean it was too—” Summer stopped. There was no point in arguing.
“You’ll be a better mother than I was.” Mama’s voice was quiet.
Summer wanted to say she sure hoped so, but instead she remained silent.
After a while, Mama said, “I could have done things differently. Probably should have. I don’t know why you . . . stuck around.”
Summer blinked. “Because . . . I love you.” She’d wondered a thousand times if it was true—had even been sure she hated Mama plenty of times—but when it came down to it, she couldn’t deny that she loved her mother.
Mama squinted at her, as if trying to detect a lie. “How can you? I don’t deserve that.”
“Maybe not.” Summer wasn’t going to give her mother empty reassurances on her deathbed. “But I do anyway.”
Mama grunted and fell silent, and Summer tried to think of something comforting to say.
“I’m scared.” Mama’s whisper was barely audible, but it cut through Summer’s heart.
“Oh, Mama, I know.” Summer leaned forward to clutch her mother’s hand, the movement sending a slight ache through her middle. “But you don’t need to be.”
Mama shook her head. “I’ve done such horrible things. And now I have to pay the price.”
For a moment, Summer was tempted to agree. But she couldn’t let Mama die without knowing the beautiful promise that had changed her own life. “No, you don’t, Mama. Jesus paid that price for you. So you could go to heaven.”
Mama grunted her disbelief. “It may be a long time since I was in a church, but even I know there’s no place in heaven for me after everything I’ve done.”
“But there is.” Summer glanced to Benjamin, and he nodded his encouragement. “Jesus died for your sins.” She clutched Mama’s hands tighter. “He died for them, Mama. He took them away. He forgives you. For all of them. Do you believe that?”
Mama shook her head. “I don’t deserve that.”
“No one does,” Summer said gently.
Next to Summer, Benjamin pulled out his phone, and then his clear voice rang out, filling the room, “At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another.”
Summer glanced at him. She wasn’t sure this was the message Mama needed right now.
But he kept reading: “But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life. This is a trustworthy saying.”
“I don’t— What does that mean?” Mama whispered.
“It means—” Benjamin leaned forward to rest a hand on her arm. “That all of those horrible things you did—”
Summer winced, but Mama didn’t flinch.
“Are gone,” Benjamin continued. “Like they never happened. Because Jesus washed them away with his blood.”
“Oh.” Mama turned toward them, and though her face was stretched and gaunt, hope shone from her eyes. “That’s good news.”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Benjamin agreed.
A sob burst out of Summer, and she leaned forward as much as she could to circle Mama in a gentle hug. Mama’s hand on her back was frail and feeble, and yet nothing had ever felt so comforting.
When Mama let go, Benjamin gently settled Summer back into her wheelchair. Her abdomen throbbed from the movement, but it was worth it just to feel Mama’s embrace—the embrace Summer had spent years longing for.
Mama blinked a few times, and Summer was astonished to realize she was trying to hold back tears. “I . . . love you,” she said, her hand weakly squeezing Summer’s. “I know I stopped saying it, if I ever did say it, but I do.”
Summer nodded, pressing her lips together against the tears. Those were words she had never expected to hear.
“Not as good as that man loves you, though.” Mama nodded toward Benjamin. “You stop being my foolish and stubborn daughter, and you let him love you.”
Summer laughed as Benjamin said a soft, “Amen.”
“I will, Mama.”
“And you.” Mama turned her gaze on Benjamin, and Summer felt him sit up straighter. “You take care of her. Don’t let her push you away in her stupid hardheadedness.”
“I won’t,” Benjamin promised.
“I only wish . . .” Mama’s words came in rough gasps. “That I would have seen sooner. That I would have . . .”
Summer shook her head and patted her hand. “It’s okay, Mama. We’ll have eternity together for all of that.”
Mama nodded and closed her eyes, and Summer knew even before the alarms on the monitors went off that she was gone.