she bought two tall coffees from a specialty vendor, her own disguised with French vanilla flavoring, sweetener and a goodly dose of cream. As shields went, it wouldn’t provide much protection, but she cravenly prayed for distraction, at least, anything to prevent a repeat of yesterday’s lunacy.
To her profound relief and surprise, Aaron Doolin was in the room, along with the nurse, when she returned. Apparently, Stephen had already made his own arrangements for transportation. Kaylie did not mention that they could have called on Chester. He would gladly have brought the aunties’ town car for Stephen’s use.
Stephen accepted the fresh coffee with placid pleasure and set about downing it as activity swirled around him. Kaylie’s own concoction went barely tasted as things moved apace. She listened patiently to the nurse’s discharge instructions, and then Aaron informed her that he called her aunts to let them know to expect Stephen shortly. As Stephen’s legal rep, Aaron signed the papers then helped Stephen dress in loose burgundy sweatpants and a yellow-gold jersey from which Aaron’s wife, Dora, had cut one of the sleeves. Kaylie slipped clean white socks onto Stephen’s feet, marveling again at their size.
Just under an hour later, a nurse wheeled Stephen out to Aaron’s waiting car. Kaylie was stunned to find out that Stephen had instructed Aaron to purchase a wheelchair for his use. That chair was already tucked into the trunk of Aaron’s luxury sedan.
Kaylie saw Stephen settled onto the backseat of Aaron’s car, then followed behind it in her own vehicle. When their little caravan arrived at Chatam House, they found Chester at the side entrance beneath the porte cochere, putting the finishing touches on the old wheelchair ramp that Grandpa Hub had used. Chester had pulled it out of storage and bolted it into place at Aunt Hypatia’s instruction.
The ramp covered the redbrick walkway and steps and extended out onto the drive, forming a small, flat base where the chair could be positioned atop the deep gravel. The wood-and-metal structure needed a fresh coat of white paint, but that did not distract from the colorful beauty of the flowers that frothed beneath its railings and tumbled in brilliant disarray from the enormous terra-cotta pots flanking the bright yellow door with its austere black framing. Spiraling green topiaries stood sentinel next to the mounds of shrubbery that softened the stark, white-painted, quarried stone from which the great house was built.
As Kaylie waited for Aaron and Chester to take the wheelchair from the trunk of the car, she felt the full glory of spring surround her. Air as soft as cotton, sunshine as clear and bright as crystal and temperatures hovering in the seventies combined to sooth the soul. Brilliant green carpeted the expansive lawns of Chatam House, delighting the eye. Kaylie could even see a few small, creamy white blossoms peeking out from the waxy, dark green leaves of the enormous magnolia tree on the west lawn. She wondered if Aunt Mag’s roses were blooming in the arbor on the east side of the house and couldn’t believe that she hadn’t even thought to check as she’d come up the drive earlier. Her thoughts then had been consumed with problems. Yet, here was proof of God’s omniscience and care.
She stood aside and bowed her head, silently praying as Chester and Aaron eased Stephen out of the sedan and got him into the chair.
Forgive me, Father, for wallowing in my own angst. I know that You are with me every moment and that You will show me what to do and what to say if only I am brave enough to pay attention and obey. Help me, then, to help Stephen and, above all, to open his eyes to You. Amen.
She looked up straight into those solemn gray eyes, but Stephen quickly looked away. He had been unusually quiet all morning. In fact, an air of gloom hung over him. He sat silently while Chester attached a support sling to the chair for his broken leg. Troubled, Kaylie lightly touched Stephen’s broad shoulder.
“Are you feeling okay?”
He glanced up, nodded and looked down again. Apprehension shivered through her. She did then what any nurse might have done; she laid her wrist against his forehead to check for a temperature. He jerked back as if she’d burned him. Feeling a tad scorched herself, despite discerning no telltale fever, she tucked her hands behind her.
A moment later, Chester maneuvered the chair around and pushed it up the ramp, remarking how