Alison Strobel - The Heart of Memory

He was halfway to the elevator when his phone dinged to alert him of an incoming email. He tapped a button, then glanced at the screen and nearly choked on a pretzel. No, no, no…

He slumped against the wall and stared at his inbox, his stomach roiling with anxiety. He didn’t want to open the email, but he was afraid not to. “I can’t deal with this right now,” he muttered through clenched teeth. Did this woman not pay any attention to the news? Savannah’s story had been all over the local media this past week; certainly she knew what he was dealing with.

Unless that’s the point- she knows she has me over a barrel.

He shook his head and exited the email program, then pocketed the phone. It didn’t matter either way; he couldn’t do anything about it now.

Savannah was actually awake when he arrived. He thought she looked a little better-not much, but a little – but it might have just been wishful thinking. “Hey, babe, sorry I’m late,” he said, then kissed her forehead as he prayed she didn’t see the worry in his face. “How’ve you been?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Jessie gone?”

“Left this morning, yes – but she made me promise to call her if we wanted her to come. She almost didn’t go, but I made her.” Savannah nodded her approval. “Can I do anything for you?”

She shook her head. “Gonna sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll be here until tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes, and sleep seemed to take her immediately. He was jealous of that, too. Half his night was spent staring at the ceiling.

Shaun reached into the bag where he’d stashed his book, sack dinner, and the mail from the last three days. He removed the latter, all rubber-banded together thanks to a conscientious Jessie. It had been piling up on the counter because he hadn’t had the energy to go through it, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. Might as well go through it now while Savannah slept.

He threw out the sales flyers and business ads, then wasted some time thumbing through the Christian ministry magazine that came every month. He couldn’t concentrate on the articles, though he tried; really he just didn’t want to look at what was inside the envelopes that looked like bills. He looked at every article and even read the classifieds in the back before returning it to the bag and drawing a fortifying breath. It’s just mail, it can’t kill you. At least not directly.

A new insurance card for the car. The gas bill-lower than usual. So far this wasn’t too bad.

An envelope from their health insurance company. His shoulders sagged. He felt defeated already.

He slowly ripped it open and pulled out the pages. Eight of them in all, filled front and back with a mess of confusing tables and codes and procedure names he couldn’t decipher. The last page ended with a total due to each provider. Their combined total had five digits before the decimal.

His vision began to swim. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so devastated if he hadn’t gotten that email first. But now…

“Babe?”

Savannah’s voice startled him, despite how quiet it was. He sniffed, tried to blink away the tears standing in his eyes. “Hey, I thought you were sleeping.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, babe. I’m fine.” He gave her a smile, but she shook her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, seriously. I’m just… tired. I’m sorry if I woke you up. I didn’t mean to.”

She lifted a hand and he took it in his own. Her eyes were bright despite the rest of her face looking so drawn. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will. I believe you.”

“Believe God.”

He hated that his gut reaction was one of cynicism. “I do, babe. You’re going to be fine. Everything is going to work out, I know.”

She smiled and her eyes drifted shut. He waited until her hand was limp in his, then lowered it back to the bed.

He wanted so badly to believe what he’d said. He wanted to trust that God had a plan that involved Savannah recovering and Shaun winning the lottery, or discovering buried treasure behind the trees in their backyard, or anything that would allow him to finally get out from under the crushing financial struggle that was sucking both him and their bank account dry. But all he felt was despair, and no amount of praying seemed to help.

JESSIE FELT LIKE A POSTER CHILD FOR MURPHY’S LAW.

She’d been back on campus for less than 24 hours, and it had been one lousy break after another. For obvious reasons Shaun hadn’t been able to help her move in, so she’d been stuck moving her belongings herself. That in and of itself wouldn’t have been too bad, but because so many others were vying for the moving carts and the elevators were so packed, it had taken her way longer than she’d had time for, given all the details that still needed to be dealt with for the freshman dinner. Then she’d made the mistake of stacking too much on the cart once she got one, and a bump in the sidewalk had sent her desktop computer crashing to the pavement. The accidental damage insurance would take care of it; but she’d have to find time to file the claim-and until that was all sorted she was without her music or internet or email.

With so much time taken up with moving in, she’d had no time to start getting her room in order before having to abandon it for the dinner prep. That meant she had no idea where the shoes were that matched the outfit she’d planned on wearing that night, or where her bathroom caddy was so she could shower before the evening’s event. And apparently she had “customer service representative” tattooed on her forehead, because any time she ventured outside her room she got stopped by a freshman or parent asking her questions she had no idea how to answer. The resident advisor still hadn’t arrived, and as one of the few upperclassmen in the dorm, she was like a beacon to all the new students who were trying to figure out how to get their beds de-bunked or their computers set up to the internet.

And as if all that weren’t enough to stress her out, her mother was going to die and no one wanted to admit it.

Savannah’s decline since her admittance to the hospital had been frighteningly quick. Jessie had gone back to say goodbye the day before, and her mother had been so weak she could barely hold a conversation. It had only been a handful of days since Jessie had brought Savannah’s laptop to the hospital in the Springs. It was hard to believe someone could deteriorate that fast. It was harder to believe they’d then be able to recover.

And yet Shaun – and Savannah herself – seemed convinced that she would. Jessie wanted to believe them, and to have the same faith they did, but she was unable to muster the confidence they seemed to share. So she checked her phone obsessively to make sure she hadn’t missed a text or call, and found herself unable to concentrate on anything for long before her thoughts turned to funeral plans and wondering how she’d handle the grief once the inevitable occurred.

Jessie shook the dark thoughts from her head and consulted her checklist. Tablecloths – check. Centerpieces – check. Decorations… She looked around the gym for the box Adam was to have dropped off. She didn’t see it. She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted him, then checked the next item on the list. Sundae bar items. She groaned aloud. She’d forgotten to confirm the sundae bar with The Sweet Shoppe.

Their contact info wasn’t in her phone or on her checklist. Berating herself with mumbled insults, she dropped the checklist on a nearby table and headed for her dorm room.

On the sidewalk outside her dorm’s front door stood a new student and her parents. Tears glistened on all their faces, and she ducked her head in embarrassment when they engaged in a family hug that brought a lump to her throat. As she passed them she overheard the father praying aloud and saw the girl’s head resting on her mother’s shoulder.