Defining moments, p.14
Defining Moments, page 14
By the time Sheila bathed and dressed in a skirt and halter top, she needed to sit down for a moment. Although the bubble bath had been soothing, she still felt tired.
She rested for about fifteen minutes, then stood up. “I’m ready. Please don’t try to walk me around the whole neighborhood.”
Chuckling, Nicholas vowed, “I won’t, sweetheart. Just let me know when you’re ready to come back home.”
Sheila made it down four steps, then stopped suddenly.
“Why’d you stop?” Nicholas asked. “Something wrong?”
“I just need a minute.” Sheila wasn’t ready to admit she was having some problems navigating the last two steps, but she didn’t want to fall on her face in front of Nicholas either.
“Hold on to my arm.”
She pushed an errant curl away from her face. “I don’t like what this disease is doing to me.” Silently, she wondered, What else is this disease going to do to me?
“Your doctor told you to quit being stubborn, Sheila. I agree with her. Let’s get that cane before you fall down and hurt yourself.”
“You’re the one who’s always telling me not to give in to the MS.” Sheila had spent a lifetime building this image of herself, and she needed more time to reassemble the pieces of her self-image in her mind before that image changed.
“That’s not what you’ll be doing. I think using a cane is actually a way to take back some control.” Nicholas slowed his pace when it seemed Sheila couldn’t keep up. “Look at it this way, you only have to use it when you need it.”
“Nicholas, I know how I am. I find it strange to see a young person in a wheelchair or using a cane. I don’t want people doing that to me.”
“Then wear a sign that says, ‘I have MS, so what’s your problem?’ ”
Sheila burst into laughter, breaking the tension that was building between them. “Nicholas, you’re crazy.”
“Maybe a little. But the point is this, sweetheart . . . if you need assistance with walking—get it. If you don’t, you’re going to mess around and fall. And if you break your leg or your hip, what do you think you’re going to use then?”
“People won’t think twice if I’m wearing a cast. They can see something’s wrong with me.”
He sighed. “Do me a favor. Go with me to an MS support meeting. There’s one tonight.”
“Why?”
“I just think it’ll be a good idea for you to meet other people dealing with MS. My aunt was recently diagnosed with a lump in her breast. She’s having surgery in a few days. She found a support meeting for women with breast cancer. She needed to know what to expect and how to deal with the possibility of having cancer.”
“Nicholas, I don’t feel like sitting around in a room somewhere listening to a bunch of sob stories. I have my own issues.”
“They’re not always sad—sometimes the stories people share are inspirational and motivational.”
The tender expression on his face made Sheila relent. “I’ll go this time, Nicholas. But I’m only doing it for you.”
“I don’t want you doing anything just for me, Sheila. This has to be about you.”
“I said I’d go.”
Nicholas coerced her into going out for lunch. They didn’t go too far from Sheila’s house since she tired easily.
“I’ve been thinking of wearing my hair short,” Sheila blurted once their meal had been served.
“I think you’ll look beautiful.”
She gave a short laugh. “Nicholas, you’re just saying that. You’ve never seen me with my hair short.”
“I happen to like short hair.” He picked up his sandwich and took a bite.
“I’m only thinking about it because I’m having some trouble with my hands.” Sheila pushed her hair behind her ears. “This morning I had a hard time using the curling iron. I almost called you to help me after I burned myself here.” She showed him the small blistering souvenir left where her curling iron nicked her.
“I’ve never curled hair, but I could give it a try,” he responded with a laugh.
“Well, you’re no help at all.”
They returned to Sheila’s house after lunch.
Sheila lay on her sofa while Nicholas relaxed in the love seat, watching a movie.
She rose gingerly around five o’clock. “I need to freshen up and change my clothes if I’m going to this meeting with you.”
“Sheila, you look fine.”
“Thanks, but I’m still changing,” she answered.
Nicholas gave a slight nod. “No problem.”
Sheila navigated to her bedroom and selected a black dress and a pair of low-heeled black mules. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, securing it with a black and white barrette.
An hour later, they were on their way.
When Nicholas pulled into the YMCA parking lot, Sheila glanced over at him. “The support group meets here?”
“Yeah. Once a week. I found out about it when I came to sign up for the men’s basketball league.”
“Oh,” Sheila mumbled.
She blinked twice when she strode into the room. Most of the people in the room seemed much younger than she was. They were using walkers or canes, and a couple of them were in wheelchairs.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming here,” she whispered after a moment.
He tried to hide the irritation in his voice. “Sheila, don’t be negative.”
“Nicholas, I’m just not feeling this. It was a mistake coming here.”
“We just got here. Give it a chance. Please.”
Sheila sighed in resignation. “I’m only doing this for you.”
“Thank you.”
She gestured toward a couple of empty chairs. “Let’s get this over with—”
Nicholas pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly on the lips.
Sheila glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. “What was that about?”
“My way of saying thanks.”
“I like the way you show gratitude.” Sheila gave him a big smile. “What else can I do for you?”
“Watch out now . . .”
Nicholas and Sheila took a seat. They made small talk while they waited for the meeting to start.
Ten minutes later, the meeting began.
Sheila introduced herself, followed by Nicholas. This was about as much participation as she planned to give. She would not be sharing the pitiful details of how MS was affecting her life.
The young woman sitting beside Sheila began talking. “There were so many emotions that I had to deal with when I was first diagnosed with MS. There was fear, sadness and a lot of anger. I was only twenty and I had my whole life ahead of me. But it was Jesus Christ who helped me cope with all of these emotions. My greatest fear was being in a wheelchair.”
Several of the people in the room murmured in agreement.
“I had memories of how my life used to be, and dreams of how my life was going to be. It just wasn’t fair . . .”
Sheila could really relate to what the young woman was saying.
“. . . Being a believer in Jesus Christ, the first thing that helped me was prayer and meditation on the Word. I have never given up my faith that Jesus will be true to His promise when He said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. I trust Him with my life.”
“Very well said,” another woman responded. “I think of my MS as a gift. If I didn’t have this disease, I don’t think I’d value my life the way I do now. I’m not gonna let MS rob me of my peace and joy in life.”
Stunned, Sheila couldn’t believe she’d heard them correctly. They were actually sounding like they were happy about having MS. It had to be the medication talking.
Frowning, she stole a peek at Nicholas.
Across from where Sheila sat, a young woman in a wheelchair spoke. “When I found out I had MS, I just sat down and started giving God the praise. The second verse of the first chapter of James tells us that we should count it as joy when we face trials of every kind. I thank God for my condition, because it’s brought me closer to Him. He has been so faithful—He even guided me as to what treatments to take in order to manage my symptoms. Like Krystal just said—I trust God completely. For those of you who are newly diagnosed or if you’re here for the first time tonight—you can find rest in the Lord. I’m telling you what I know to be true.”
Sheila had heard enough. She rose to her feet and walked toward the nearest exit.
Nicholas joined her a few minutes later in the hallway.
“Why did you walk out?”
“Did you hear what they were saying?” Sheila asked him. “They’re in there acting like having MS is a gift or something. And that other woman—the one in the wheelchair. She actually thanked God for allowing MS to come into her life. Said it brought her closer to Him. Nicholas, these people are crazy.”
“They’re not crazy, Sheila. They just trust the Lord. Verse twenty-eight in the eleventh chapter of Matthew plainly says, Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
“Well, I’m not happy about having this disease and I won’t pretend that I am. I hate it.”
“I don’t think anyone is happy to have MS—what they are saying is that they are not going to just give up on life because of it.”
“I don’t care, because I’m not going back in there. I’m not good at coping with illness in the first place, Nicholas. It depresses me to listen to their stories.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“What do you mean?”
“I believe that you don’t want to go back inside because you believe that you’re going to end up like them in a matter of months. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Sheila whispered. “Nicholas, I can’t do this right now. This disease is tearing down my body and I’m powerless to do anything about it.” She shook her head sadly. “Please take me home. I can’t go back in there.”
Nicholas wrapped an arm around her. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
Sunday after church, Nicholas hit I-95 south to Brunswick. His aunt was due to have surgery Monday morning. She was nervous whenever it came to doctors and hospitals, so he wanted to be there to comfort her.
But today, the twelfth of June, was also his aunt and uncle’s wedding anniversary. She didn’t want to celebrate until after the surgery, so Nicholas planned to surprise them with a cruise. They would board the Emerald Princess next month for a cruise to Puerto Rico.
While he drove, Nicholas couldn’t get Sheila out of his mind. He’d hoped the meeting last night would help—maybe it could have if she hadn’t stormed out the way she did.
Sheila was stubborn. She wanted nothing to do with God because she blamed Him for the MS. Nicholas prayed Sheila would come to understand that only the Lord could get her through this ordeal. MS was not an easy road but with Jesus in her life, Sheila would come to know that He would make up for all she had lost.
“Father God, please open Sheila’s heart to You,” he whispered. “She desperately needs You in her life. She just hasn’t realized it yet.”
He exited the interstate and made his way through town to Amherst Street, where his aunt Lily and her husband Pete lived. He parked in front of their house and got out.
His uncle met him at the front door. “Hey, son. Lily Belle was just calling yo’ house to see if you was on the road yet.”
“I told her I was coming after church. We had a meeting after the service today.” Nicholas walked into the house after his uncle.
“I’m here, Aunt Lily,” he called out.
A slender woman with salt-and-pepper hair strolled out of the kitchen. “I just called your house.”
Nicholas embraced his aunt. Sometimes it pained him to look at her, because she looked just like his mother, Lulu Mae. They were identical twins. She was the only family he had left on the East Coast. He had never been close to his father’s West Coast relatives.
“How you feeling, Aunt Lily?”
“I’m okay. Just ready to get this over with.”
He knew she was referring to the surgery. His aunt was scheduled to have a biopsy because a lump had been discovered in her breast.
“Aunt Lily, if we ask anything according to God’s will, He hears us. And because we know He hears us, whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of Him.”
“Amen,” Lily murmured. “Thank you for that reminder. My peace only comes from Jesus.”
Nicholas nodded.
“I made some chicken, collard greens, macaroni and cheese. You hungry?”
“Starved,” Nicholas answered.
Over dinner they continued talking. Nicholas presented them with the cruise tickets right after dessert was served.
“So is there a special lady in your life?”
Nicholas shook his head no. “No, ma’am. Not yet.”
“I been praying for you to find a wife,” Lily announced.
He laughed. “Thanks, Aunt Lily. I know I don’t have to worry about a thing with you and God on the job.”
His uncle chuckled.
“Alright, mister. At least you won’t have to worry if she’s marrying you or your money.”
Three hours later, Lily had turned in for the evening while Nicholas and Pete settled in the den to watch television.
That night, Nicholas prayed for his aunt and for Sheila.
His aunt had a successful surgery the next morning. Nicholas stayed with her most of the day before going home with his uncle.
Nicholas made dinner for the two of them. Pete didn’t have much of an appetite.
“You’re worried about Aunt Lily.” It was a statement.
“I can’t lose her. I saw what it did to you and Lily when your mother died . . . I don’t know if I can be as strong.”
Pete looked like he wanted to cry. He truly feared losing his wife.
Nicholas offered what comfort he could.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Nicholas remained in Brunswick for two more days before leaving for home, but not before promising to return the following weekend.
One of the first things he did upon his return was check in with Sheila. He’d missed her.
“How did everything go?” she inquired after they exchanged pleasantries.
“Great. We’re waiting to hear the results of the biopsy. I’m believing that Aunt Lily’s test comes back cancer-free, though.”
“I know you were really worried about her. The two of you seem really close.”
“We are.”
They talked for a few minutes more before Nicholas hung up to start work on a project.
A couple of hours later, the incessant buzzing of the doorbell distracted him. Nicholas typed in one last word before getting up to answer the front door.
“Tori . . . hey,” he greeted. “What are you doing on this side of town?”
She tried to look past him into the house. “I was just about to leave—it took you a while to answer the door. Did I interrupt anything?”
“No.” Nicholas moved aside. “C’mon in.”
“I thought maybe you had company or something.”
Closing the front door, Nicholas broke into laughter. “You thought Sheila was here, didn’t you?”
“It’s a possibility, right? Jake and I saw y’all the other night at Robert’s.”
Tori took a seat in the burgundy leather chair in the living room. “What’s really going on between you and Sheila?”
Folding his arms across his chest, he said, “Tori, don’t start this again . . .” There was a critical tone to his voice.
“Jake didn’t want me to say anything to you about this, but you know me—I just can’t keep silent. You’re my best friend and I care about you, Nicholas. I don’t want Sheila hurting you, too.”
Nicholas sat down on the arm of his sofa, facing her. He spoke calmly, saying, “Tori, I told you that there’s nothing for you to worry about.”
She disagreed. “I wish I could believe that. Nicholas, you just don’t know Sheila like I do.”
“I’ve spent some time with her, Tori,” he countered. “Sheila’s not the same person. She’s changed quite a bit.”
Shaking her head, Tori responded, “She’s an actress. Sheila knows how to play the game well. Trust me on this.”
Nicholas stood his ground with her. “This is not a game.”
Frustrated, Tori fluffed up her hair. “Tell me the truth, Nicholas. Do you have feelings for Sheila?”
“Yeah,” he replied after a moment.
“Are you in love with her?”
Nicholas shook his head no. “I wouldn’t call it love, Tori. But I do care a great deal for her.”
She sighed in resignation. “You two are becoming close then?”
“I think so.”
Tori gave him a sad look. “Nicholas, I have to be honest—I think you’re making a big mistake. I just want to go on record saying that Sheila is not the woman for you.”
“It’s not your decision, Tori. If you remember, I told you a long, long time ago that Jake wasn’t the man for you—yet you’ve proved me wrong.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “My situation is totally different and you know it.”
“The point is, I didn’t believe Jake was the one for you until a few years ago. He made mistakes. Sheila is flawed, but so am I. Nobody’s perfect.”
“Nicholas, I hear what you’re saying. Really I do.”
“Why don’t we just agree to disagree on this subject?” Nicholas suggested. “My relationship with Sheila is my business, Tori. I’d like for you to respect that.”
“You’re right,” she conceded. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself, so I’ll back off. Just don’t be expecting me and Jake to go double-dating with y’all.”
“Understood.” Nicholas relaxed. He and Tori would be alright, although she wasn’t happy about his relationship with Sheila. Their friendship was safe now, but if he and Sheila actually fell in love—could Tori handle that?
Tori arrived at the Wentworth Mansion two hours after Jake summoned her. As soon as she walked into the hotel, she felt like she’d been transported back to the Gilded Age, a time of refinement. Wentworth Mansion was unlike any other hotel Tori had ever visited.
