Debbie Macomber - Summer in Orchard Valley - Valerie / Stephanie / Norah

Valerie felt herself relax. Until now, she hadn’t realized just how tense she’d been over Steffie’s situation.

“Colby wants to see you,” Norah informed her next.

“Did he say why?”

Norah shook her head, frowning a little. “You two didn’t have an argument, did you?”

“No. What makes you ask?”

Norah shrugged vaguely. “Just the way he looked when he asked for you.”

“Looked?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Norah was clearly regretting that she’d said anything. “It’s like he was eager to see you, but then relieved when I told him you’d gone into town. That might seem absurd, but I can’t think of any other way of describing it.”

“I’ll catch him later.” For some reason, Valerie wasn’t quite ready to see him yet.

“I’m sure he’ll stop by this evening.”

“How’s Dad doing?” Valerie asked as they headed for the elevator.

“Not so good. His breathing is more labored and the swelling in his extremities isn’t any better. That’s not a good sign. Colby’s doing everything he can to drain his lungs, but nothing seems to work. In the meantime, Dad’s growing weaker by the hour.”

“He misses Mom even more than we knew,” Valerie whispered, thinking about the snapshots she’d picked up at Al’s Pharmacy. She wondered how often he’d visited their mother’s grave. How often he turned to speak to the woman he’d spent a lifetime with, remembering too late that she was gone.

“What will we do if anything happens to Dad?” Norah asked quietly.

A few days earlier, Valerie would’ve rejected that possibility, adamantly claiming their father wasn’t going to die. She’d stubbornly refused to consider it. She wasn’t as unyielding now.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “but we’ll manage. We’ll have to.”

They were seated in the waiting room when Colby arrived. Valerie glanced up from a business publication she was reading and knew instantly that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. His eyes, dark and troubled, met hers. Without being conscious of it, she stood, the magazine slipping unnoticed to the floor.

“Colby?” His name became an urgent plea. “What is it?”

He sat down on the sofa and reached for Valerie’s hands, gripping them tightly with his own. His gaze slid from her to Norah. “Your father’s suffered a second heart attack.”

“No,” Norah breathed.

“And?” Valerie’s own heart felt as though it were in danger of failing just then. It pounded wildly, sending bursts of fear through her body.

“We can’t delay the surgery any longer.”

Norah was on her feet, tears streaking her face. “You can’t do the surgery now! His chances of survival are practically nil. We both know that.”

“He doesn’t have any chance if we don’t.” Although he was speaking to Norah, it was Valerie’s gaze he held, Valerie’s eyes he looked into—as if to say he’d do anything to have spared her this.

Colby had been with her father in the operating room for almost six hours, but to Valerie, it felt like six years.

While she waited, she recalled the happy times with her father and, especially as she entered adolescence, the not-so-happy ones. Her will had often clashed with his, and they’d engaged in one verbal battle after another. Valerie had found her father stubborn, high-handed and irrational.

Her mother had repeatedly told Valerie the reason she didn’t get along with her father was that the two of them were so much alike. At the time Valerie had considered her mother’s remark an insult. Furthermore, it made no sense. If they were alike, then they should be friends instead of adversaries.

It wasn’t until her mother became ill that Valerie grew close to her father. In their love and concern for Grace, they’d set aside their differences; not a cross word had passed between them since.

Valerie couldn’t say which of them had changed, but she figured they’d both made progress. All she knew was that she loved her father with a fierceness that left her terrified whenever she thought about losing him.

The passage of time lost all meaning as she paced, back and forth, across the waiting room floor. It wasn’t the waiting room she was so familiar with, since Surgery was on the hospital’s ground level; a small brick patio, bordered with a waist-high hedge, opened off glass doors. Every now and then, Valerie or Norah would wander outside to breathe in the cool air, to savor the peace and tranquility of the night. There’d been no other patients in surgery that evening, no other families waiting for news.

Somehow word got out about her father’s crisis. Pastor Wallen from the Community Church stopped by and prayed with Valerie and Norah. Charles Tomaselli was there for an hour, as well. Various friends, including Al Russell from the pharmacy, came, too.

At midnight, an exhausted Norah had curled up on the sofa and fallen into a troubled sleep. Valerie envied her sister’s ability to rest, but found no such respite from her own fears.

Pacing and sucking on hard candy to relieve her nerves were the only methods she had of dealing with the terrible tension. She stared out the window at the bright moonlit night, then turned suddenly when she heard a soft footfall behind her. Colby stood there, still wearing his surgical greens.

Valerie’s eyes flew to his, but she could read nothing.

“He made it.”

She nearly slumped to the floor with relief. Tears welled up, but she blinked them back. “Thank God,” she whispered, raising both hands to her mouth.

“I nearly lost him once,” Colby said hoarsely, shaking his head. How exhausted he looked, Valerie noted. “I didn’t think there was anything more we could do. It seemed like a miracle when his heart restarted. In some ways, it was. Only so much of what happens on the operating table is in my hands.”

“I’m sure it was a miracle,” Valerie whispered, hardly able to speak. She walked to the sofa on unsteady legs and bent to wake Norah. Her sister woke instantly—her training as a nurse, no doubt—and Valerie told her, “Dad made it through the operation.”

“The danger’s not over yet,” Colby cautioned. “Not by a long shot. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I can’t. If he survives the night—”

“But he survived the surgery,” Norah said, her voice raised with hope. “I didn’t think that was possible. Surely that was his biggest hurdle?”

“Yes,” Colby agreed, “but his condition is critical.”

“I know,” Norah answered, but a faint light began to glow in her eyes. From the little Norah had said, Valerie realized her sister hadn’t expected their father to live through the ordeal. Now that he had, she was given the first glimmer of promise.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Colby said, rubbing his eyes in an oddly vulnerable gesture. He must be running on pure adrenaline, Valerie thought. He’d been in surgery earlier in the day and he’d lost a patient; he’d feared he was about to lose another one. He still could. He didn’t need to say it aloud for Valerie to know.

Colby didn’t think her father would live until morning.

“I wish Steffie was here,” Norah said after Colby had left.

Valerie nodded. “I do, too.”

Colby had been gone a few minutes when a male nurse appeared. He knew Norah and greeted her warmly, then told them they could each see their father, but for only a moment.

Valerie went first. She’d assumed she was emotionally prepared, but the sight of her father destroyed any self-control she might have attained. Seeing him lying there so close to death affected her far more acutely than she’d expected.

Hurriedly she turned and left, feeling as though she could barely breathe. She walked past Norah without a word. She stumbled onto the patio, hugging her middle with both arms, dragging in one deep breath after another in a futile effort to compose herself.