The Caregiver - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,62

with herself, Mattie could look around and take in her surroundings. And what she saw there was amazing. She knew she was witnessing the Lord’s work in almost everything at the hospital.

Yes, God was working with the doctors and nurses. He was guiding them, giving them the knowledge to treat the cancer cells in their patients’ bodies. He gave the volunteers the strength to continually smile even when many of the patients were difficult and short-tempered.

He guided the technicians who worked in the radiation labs. The Lord was surely with Charlie, their driver, too. Miraculously, he never lost his patience, even when both she and her mother were not at their best.

All this thinking about others did give her comfort, and it did hold threads of hope for her, too. God was there in the hospital with them.

And just because He wasn’t watching over her, it didn’t mean He didn’t care about others.

That knowledge made her stay almost bearable.

That, and her loving cousin Lucy.

Oh, but she couldn’t help but worry about Lucy. Over the last three days, Lucy had left only once. Otherwise, she bustled and fetched. Smiled and encouraged. But not this afternoon.

“What is bothering you so much, Lucy?”

Lucy blinked. “Nothing.”

“Please tell me.”

“It’s just that I never imagined your healing would be such a roller coaster event. That’s all. I had thought that we would get through your chemotherapy treatments and then you would be better.”

Mattie completely understood. “All this, it was hard for me to accept at first, too. But I’ve come to find out that this cancer is a mighty tough opponent. Wily, too.”

“I don’t know how to make things better for you.”

“You already have made things better by being here.” Mattie was being completely honest. Lucy’s presence had been a true gift.

Slowly, Lucy nodded. “I’m glad I am here.” Standing up, she shook out her skirts. “Now, how can I help you?”

Though Mattie didn’t really feel like being fussed over, she saw that Lucy ached to do something—anything—to feel useful. So she pointed to her head and frowned. “My hair’s an awful mess. Would you mind brushing it out for me?”

“Not at all.” After digging through Mattie’s suitcase, Lucy helped Mattie off with her kapp, then unpinned her hair.

When her hair fell in waves down her shoulders, Mattie smiled. Perhaps a good hair brushing was what she needed. She closed her eyes when Lucy started.

As the soft bristles rubbed against her head, she felt her shoulder and neck muscles relax. It had been a long time since anyone had brushed her hair. Years.

Ah. Yes, this was most likely what she needed—to take time to enjoy the simple pleasure of getting her hair brushed.

And then she could put her kapp back on, and she would look more like herself. Neat and orderly.

“Oh, my,” Lucy murmured. Quietly. So quietly, Mattie almost didn’t hear her.

“What?”

With a stricken look, Lucy held up a handful of hair. “It’s coming out.”

Mattie grabbed the brush. “What is? My hair?” she asked, but of course it was a silly thing to ask. She knew what was happening.

“I’m sorry, Mattie. I’m afraid the medicine is causing it to come out.”

Awkwardly, Mattie ran the brush along her scalp. To her dismay, thick strands of hair came out. Right into her hands. Some fell onto her lap.

Crushed, she examined the rich brown strands now lying limp in her hands. Though she had never been an especially prideful girl, she’d always rather liked her hair. She’d liked the rich chocolate color and how thick and long it was.

And now it was falling out. Showing her once and for all that the cancer was winning another battle. And proving that God was still looking the other way.

“Lucy, go find me a mirror, would ya?”

“Oh, no . . .”

“Please?” Mattie couldn’t help that her voice had gotten high and shrill. “Please? Now. I can’t get up easily with the cords attached to me.”

“All right,” Lucy said. With another look of dismay, she met Mattie’s eyes, then swallowed hard. Without another word, she practically ran out the door.

Unable to help herself, Mattie brushed at her head again. Harder this time. In retaliation, more strands pulled away.

Minutes later, Lucy came in with a handheld mirror, and a concerned-looking nurse on her heels.

“Mattie, why don’t you put that brush away? We don’t need to dwell—”

She held out her hand. “Please. Give me the mirror.”

But instead of handing the mirror forward, Lucy looked at the nurse.

“It’s all right,” the nurse said quietly. “Let Mattie