The Wonder of Your Love - By Beth Wiseman Page 0,60
window, so they were as quiet as they could be in case she was sleeping.
They’d barely sat down when the same orderly as before rolled Martha in.
Martha pointed a wobbly finger at the man. “Creamed celery is what I said.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a smile.
A nurse entered the room then, and together she and the orderly got Martha situated in her bed. Katie Ann quickly found the quilt and spread it on top of her.
“She’s still pretty groggy.” The orderly lifted the railing on the side of Martha’s bed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s hungry.”
He grinned. “You folks have a good day.” He waved as he left the room.
Katie Ann and Arnold each went to opposite sides of Martha’s bed.
“Hello, sunshine.” Arnold leaned down and kissed Martha on the cheek, but Martha turned to Katie Ann.
“I’m alive.”
Katie Ann reached for Martha’s hand and smiled. “Ya, you are.”
“In that case, I’m hungry.”
“I saw carts of food being wheeled around earlier, so I bet you will have some food very soon.” Katie Ann brushed back some of Martha’s gray strands that had fallen across her forehead.
“Creamed celery.” Martha’s eyes were closed as she spoke, and Katie Ann wondered if she would even be able to stay awake long enough to eat.
“I don’t think the hospital has creamed celery, Martha.”
Katie Ann heard movement to her left, and she turned to catch a glimpse of the battered young woman staring at all of them. The girl quickly turned back the other way. Katie Ann was wondering what happened to the girl when Martha squeezed her hand.
“Katie Ann, I think I need a nap . . .” Martha closed her eyes.
Katie Ann turned to Arnold. “The doctor said she would sleep most of today.”
Arnold nodded, and even though Martha did indeed sleep most of the day, Katie Ann and Arnold both stayed with her until late in the afternoon and finally told her good-bye around four o’clock.
During their time at the hospital, Katie Ann prayed.
And she laughed on the inside, wondering if Martha knew how loudly she snored. But Arnold never acknowledged it.
Instead, he just mentioned every little while how much he loved his Martha. Katie Ann found herself longing for that kind of love.
MARTHA PUSHED THE nurse’s call button for the third time in the past fifteen minutes. “What if I was dying in here?” she mumbled, glancing at the clock on the wall. Ten o’clock.
She could vaguely remember Katie Ann and Arnold telling her good-bye earlier in the day, but foremost on her mind at the moment was the fact that she had apparently missed dinner, and she was sure she’d never been this hungry in her life.
“What can I do for you?” A young woman in blue scrubs walked into the room and spoke to Martha in a whisper.
“Food. I need food. I must have slept through dinner.”
“The cafeteria is closed, but I can probably find some pudding, or maybe some chips. Something like that.”
Martha hung her head for a moment. “I was thinking more like a burger and some fries.” She looked up at the woman. “But I’d be grateful for anything you can round up.”
“Sure.” She picked up Martha’s chart at the end of the bed and studied it for a moment. “No food restrictions. Let me go see what I can find.”
After the woman left, Martha heard rock music coming from the bed next to her, then the girl answered a cell phone with a strained hello.
Martha lowered the volume on her television a bit.
“I don’t know when I can go home. They haven’t said. I think I’ll be in here for a few more days.” After a long silence, she said, “I know. That’s what you always say.” A moment later she clicked the phone closed and stared at the ceiling.
Martha studied the girl for a moment and wondered again what had happened to her.
“Why don’t you just take a picture?” The girl turned to face Martha.
Her voice sounded like a reflection of the girl herself. Broken.
Martha took a deep breath as she gazed into the girl’s one good eye. “What’s your name?”
“Danielle.” She dabbed at her lip with her finger and grimaced.
“I’m Martha.”
Silence. Martha could tell Danielle wasn’t in the mood to be friendly—and who would blame her?—but blatant curiosity drove Martha on. “Who did that to you?”
Danielle slowly twisted her head toward Martha. “Look, lady . . . Martha . . . I don’t mean to be rude, but my situation is really none of