The memory faded, and Jade stared out the window at the still-dark morning sky. Her first pregnancy had been marked by pain and turmoil, all of it orchestrated by Tanner’s mother and her web of lies.
Jade thought for a moment of the girl she’d been when she got pregnant with Ty, the way she’d ached for Tanner, yet wound up marrying someone else instead, someone she never loved and shouldn’t have married. In the end, it was Doris Eastman’s confession that brought her and Tanner together.
It was amazing, really. After marrying Tanner eighteen months ago, Jade had actually come to like Doris. She was a woman changed by Christ’s forgiveness during the final days of her life—so much so that Jade grieved alongside Tanner when she died a year ago.
Jade’s head pounded harder, and a wave of panic came over her, the same one that seemed to hit with increasing frequency these past months. Against her will, a thought she’d been fighting came back again …
What if the headaches were some sort of punishment? What if God was punishing her for marrying Tanner after being married to Jim Rudolph all those years?
She swallowed hard, reached out, and laid her fingers on Tanner’s bare arm. Were we wrong, God? Were these not the plans You had for us?
Jade had voiced her fears to Hannah Bronzan before, and each time her friend’s answer ran along the same lines: “You did what you could with Jim. You’ve told the Lord you’re sorry for your part in the marriage, but you were never unfaithful, Jade. Jim was. God doesn’t hold you guilty for that. Not you or Tanner.”
Then Hannah would reiterate what all of them already knew. Jim had moved in with another woman and divorced Jade in a bitter case that nearly cost her full custody of Ty. By the time the divorce was final, Jim had nothing but anger and bitter words for Jade. Three days later he married the woman he’d left Jade for.
Hannah’s reassurances came to Jade again: “You made your mistakes, but you didn’t cause the divorce. The fact that Tanner entered your life again at that time wasn’t some trick by the devil. It was God’s way of blessing both of you after a decade of heartache.”
Her friend’s words sounded right, even now. But still …
There had been women at church who wrinkled their noses at Jade after her decision to marry Tanner, telling her that according to Scripture she was living in adultery.
The idea that what she and Tanner shared might somehow be against God’s will was almost more than Jade could take. Especially when she loved him more than life itself. She’d read the Scripture in Matthew about divorce over and over again. At first she’d been convinced that she was in the right, that God granted exceptions in cases where one spouse had been unfaithful. There was no question that Jim was guilty of marital unfaithfulness. He’d refused to rectify things with her even when she’d wanted to try.
But the stronger her headaches grew, and the weaker and sicker she felt, the more terrified she became that somehow God was angry with her. Her face grew hot and her heart raced wildly. Don’t punish us now, God, please …
A veil of sweat broke out on her face, and she pushed her fears aside. Nothing good came from worry. She reached for a glass of water and two pain relievers from a bottle on her bedside table. They were a mild, over-the-counter brand—the strongest thing she would consider taking while pregnant. They hadn’t worked well in past days, but as she swallowed them she told herself she’d be fine in an hour.
The perspiration on her face was heavier than before. She took her hand from Tanner’s arm and ran it across her forehead. As she did, Tanner stirred and blinked a few times before squinting at the clock.
“Jade … it’s 4:30, honey.” His eyes closed as he snuggled against her and circled his arms around her waist. His voice was thick with sleep. “What’re you doing up?”
Her head pounded in response and her mind raced. “I’m hot. I think I’ll take a shower.”
Tanner tightened his grip on her. “Mmmm, baby, are you sure? Stay here with me.”
“I’d like to.” Jade ran her fingers through his hair and down the length of his arm. “But the morning sickness is kinda strong.”
Tanner opened his eyes again. Even in the dark she could see his growing alarm. “Hey … shouldn’t that be over by now? You’re what … twelve, thirteen weeks?”
“Yes.” Jade forced a smile. Tanner had dozens of briefs he could be studying, but instead she had often found him these past weeks in their office poring over the daily breakdown of what to expect during pregnancy. “You know what it is? This baby of ours is so healthy, my morning sickness might last four months. Who knows, right?”
Tanner thought about that for a moment and the worry left his face. “I love you, Jade.” He leaned up and brought his lips to hers.
Their kiss lingered, and for a brief moment Jade forgot about the pain in her head. “I love you, too.”
“Go shower.” He smiled. “And I’ll pray it won’t be four months.” He settled back into the pillow and closed his eyes once more.
“Okay. Sweet dreams.”
Jade studied the image of her husband as she stood and pulled her robe tight. As she headed for the bathroom, his words rang her heart. I love you, Jade …
Despite her aching head, the thought of an angry God punishing her for loving Tanner seemed nothing short of outlandish. She knew God better than that.
But five minutes into her shower, her vision doubled and grew so blurry she couldn’t see. As she struggled to focus, a piercing pain sliced through her head, and she screamed in agony. “Tanner!” She groped to keep her balance as everything around her began to spin. “Help me!”
His footsteps sounded fast and hard against the floor outside the bathroom, but it was too late. Darkness overtook her as she collapsed on the floor of the shower, unable to move.
“Jade!” Tanner was at her side. “Dear God, help me …”
She could feel his hands on her shoulders, then under her arms as he lifted her from the wet tile, but the sounds around her were fading fast.
And in that moment her symptoms seemed terrifyingly clear. Nausea, morning headaches, double vision. Now this.
How many children had she cared for with similar symptoms? If it was what she feared, then her thoughts hadn’t been irrational after all. God must indeed be punishing her. Punishing both of them.
Jade opened her mouth to speak but she no longer could. No, God … please. Don’t let it be …
She wanted to tell Tanner she was sorry, that she loved him more than words could say, and that he needed to call an ambulance, but she couldn’t make her tongue work to form words.
For a while Tanner was gone, and Jade fought to remain conscious. He’s calling for help … everything’s going to be fine. Then he was back and he swept her into his arms again. The last thing she remembered was his breath on her face, his distant voice begging her to hold on, telling her that help was on the way.
And something else … a damp area on her chest. With a jolt she realized Tanner was crying. Tanner … honey, don’t cry. I’ll be okay, I promise.
Then there was nothing but cold, quiet darkness … and the lingering wetness of Tanner’s tears.
Tanner could force himself to do only two things as he followed the ambulance in his car: breathe and pray. Neither was easy. The moment he had seen Jade on the floor of the shower, her lips blue, her arms and legs jerking unnaturally, a grenade of raw fear had exploded in his heart.
Over and over he had pictured himself waking to her screams and finding her on the floor. “No, God!” he’d shouted as he stared at her, panic coursing through his veins. He’d had no idea what to do first. Call for an ambulance? Help her stop shaking?
In a split-second decision, he dropped to the floor, took her by the shoulders, and tried to force her body to stop shaking.
When that didn’t work he called 9-1-1.
“What’s the emergency?” an operator had asked him.
“I don’t know … my wife is dying! Come quick. Please
!”
In the minutes after that, Tanner hadn’t meant to cry, but tears came anyway. Streams of them. As though his heart knew something his mind wasn’t ready to grasp. That there was something terribly wrong with the only woman he’d ever loved.
When the paramedics arrived, Tanner told them Jade was pregnant. They noted the information, hooked her up to several monitors, and gave her a shot of something. While they did, Tanner pounded them with as many questions as he dared ask. Was this something they’d seen before? Was she dying? What was the shot for? Could they help her stop shaking?
Two men worked on her, loading her onto a stretcher, and one of them answered Tanner’s questions, his tone calm and confident. “It happens often,” the man explained while he helped his partner hook an IV line into Jade’s arm. “She isn’t dying. She’s having a seizure. The shot will calm her down.”
Seizure? The word screamed in Tanner’s mind even now. A seizure? Other people might have seizures, but not his wife. Not his precious Jade.
The memory evaporated in a desert of fear. Tanner swallowed hard and kept his eyes glued on the swirling lights in front of him. He knew nothing about medicine, but he knew this: Seizures were a sign of something bad.
Something very bad.
It was more than Tanner could process, so he continued to pray. Not the conversational prayer he so often shared with God, but a desperate cry for help, for an answer they could live with. One Jade could live with.
At the hospital Tanner tore from his car and raced into the emergency room. Jade was being moved through the lobby toward the back. Tanner was at her side in seconds, his heart racing as he gently leaned over and hugged her close.
“Jade, honey …” He took hold of her hand and walked alongside the stretcher. “How are you?”
She forced a smile, and Tanner tried to keep the fear from showing on his face. She looked small, almost childlike, lost in a sea of sheets and intravenous lines. Her face was pale, her tone groggy. “I have a headache.”
“I know. Dr. Layton’s on his way.”
Her eyelids lowered partway. “I’m tired.”
Tanner kept his stride even with the moving stretcher and glanced at the paramedic pushing her. “Is that normal?”
“Yes. It’s the medication.” The man angled the stretcher around a corner and into a room. He patted Jade on the hand. “Go ahead and sleep. Dr. Layton will be here in a few minutes; he’ll take good care of you.”
She was asleep before the man left the room, and Tanner stared at her. A chill had worked its way into the marrow of his bones. What’s happening to her, God? She’s everything to me.
Sweat beaded across his brow, and he reached for her hand. She couldn’t be sick, couldn’t have anything wrong with her. Please God, not Jade. She and Ty and the baby …they’re all I’ve ever wanted, all I’ve ever prayed for since–
A technician entered the room, cutting his thoughts short. “She needs to go to X ray.” He positioned himself at the head of Jade’s bed and began wheeling her out of the room. “The doctor wants a CAT scan.”
Tanner stayed by Jade’s side as much as possible, and at eight o’clock that morning, Jade was admitted for observation pending the results. She was still groggy when Dr. Layton entered the room and walked over to her bed. Tanner was glad this doctor was handling the situation. The two men had met on several occasions, and Tanner liked his professionalism. From everything he knew of the doctor, if anyone was up-to-date on current medical breakthroughs, it was Robert Layton.
The man nodded at Tanner, his expression serious. Then he smiled at Jade. “Looks like you’re feeling better.”
Jade uttered a weak laugh. “Talk about morning sickness, huh?”
Dr. Layton’s expression fell and his eyes narrowed. “Jade—” he glanced at Tanner, then back at Jade—“I’m afraid it’s more than morning sickness.”
Tanner held his breath and tightened his grip on Jade’s hand. No, God … please … Nothing felt real. The whole scene felt like a poorly scripted TV drama.
The doctor drew a breath and moved a step closer to the bed. “The CAT scan shows a brain tumor, Jade. It’s about the size of a walnut.” He pursed his lips. “We need to do a needle biopsy.”
Even as the doctor spoke, as he delivered the worst verdict of Tanner’s life, Jade’s expression went unchanged. She nodded and listened the way she might if the doctor were talking about a simple case of the flu or a patient down the hall.
Or one of the kids she worked with.
Tanner wanted to scream at both of them, to shake the doctor and demand to know the odds, the risks. To know if Jade would be okay when the nightmare that had just begun was finally over.
Instead, he struggled to still his spinning thoughts and focus on what Dr. Layton was saying.
“The seizure means that the tumor is growing.” He glanced at a clipboard in his hands and then back at Jade. “If it’s aggressive, there’s no time to waste. Even if it isn’t cancerous. You know that, right?”
No time to waste for what? Tanner wanted to scoop Jade into his arms and run from the room, find some way to stop the craziness. Instead he stayed stone-still and felt the slightest trembling in Jade’s fingers. He clasped his other hand around hers, and the trembling stilled.
There was a pause, and Tanner cleared his throat. “I don’t understand.”
Jade turned to him. “If the tumor’s growing, they’ll want to do brain surgery right away.” She hesitated, and for the first time he saw tears in her eyes. “But that puts the baby at risk.”
Tanner’s heart pounded in his throat. Surgery? Risks to their baby? None of it was possible. He tore his eyes from Jade’s and stared at Dr. Layton. “What are the options?” His tone rang with frustration.
The doctor angled his head. “It’s too soon to say.” He set his hand on Jade’s shoulder. “Let’s get through the needle biopsy and then we can talk.”
The test was set for just after lunch, and neither Jade nor Tanner wanted to talk about the possibilities. Instead, Jade slept, and Tanner held tight to her hand while he called Matt.
“Hey, listen, I’ll be out of the office for a few days.” He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, holding his tears at bay. His heart thudded hard against his chest. “Jade’s—” Fear stopped him from finishing the sentence. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t admit the truth this soon. His hands trembled and his throat refused to let him speak for several seconds. Control, Tanner. Come on. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Something’s come up.”
Matt paused. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Tanner’s answer was too fast, but he prayed Matt wouldn’t ask any hard questions. He wasn’t ready to talk about the doctor’s findings. Not yet. Not when he was still desperately trying to catch his breath and believe the news himself. “Jade isn’t feeling well.”
“Oh. Right.” Matt seemed relieved. “Morning sickness?”
“Yep.” Tanner closed his eyes briefly as the lie left his lips. If only it were true …
“Tomorrow then?”
“Sure.”
The phone call ended and tiny sweat drops made their way down Tanner’s forehead. He hated lying to Matt, but he couldn’t admit the awful truth. Not to Matt or Hannah or the neighbor who was caring for Ty that day.
Not even to himself.
Using his wife’s name and the words brain tumor in the same sentence was too impossible to imagine. Maybe the tests were wrong. Maybe they’d insert a needle in Jade’s skull and find out there wasn’t any tumor there at all.
The seizure medication made Jade sleep through the biopsy and into the afternoon. Tanner called about Ty and asked the neighbor if he could spend one more night with them.
“Jade’s not feeling well.” He glanced at her, at the bandage on the small patch near the front of her head where they’d pulled out a sample of the tumor. Despite his sweatshirt, Tanner began to shiver.
The neighbor agreed
and put Ty on the phone. “Hi, Dad, the beach was so cool! Me and Karl bodysurfed three hours straight.”
“That’s great.” Tanner dug deep down and found the courage to continue. “Hey, buddy … uh, your mom’s not feeling so well. Karl’s mom said you could stay over tonight and she’ll bring you home tomorrow before dinner.”
“Okay.” Ty didn’t hesitate, and a small wave of relief splashed against Tanner’s taut body. Why tell the boy now, when they didn’t know anything about the monster they were about to battle? The bad news could wait until tomorrow. Ty’s tone was light. “Give her a kiss for me, all right?”
“All right. Be good.”
“Okay, Dad. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
When Tanner hung up, he was reminded, as he always was, of how many times he’d missed out on telling his son he loved him. Eleven years. Even now it was impossible to imagine that while he’d spent all those years pining away for Jade, wondering why she’d married someone else, Ty had been growing up without his father. It was a tragedy Tanner could only withstand because of the close bond he and the boy shared now.
In the nearly two years since they’d found each other, Tanner had taught Ty how to throw a spiral using the laces of a football, and how to perform the crossover in basketball. He had pitched him a thousand baseballs in the field across the street from their house, and he jogged with him three times a week.
Despite the constant blur of motion he generally made in their home, Ty had a sweet side as well. That semester at school he befriended Karl, their neighbor. The boy didn’t have a father. When Tanner and Ty played catch or hit balls, Ty often asked if Karl could come, too.
“Karl reminds me of me back before I knew you,” Ty would say when the two of them were alone. “I wish he had a dad like you. You and Mom are the best parents in the world.”
Tanner shuddered again. Telling Ty that his mother was seriously ill was more than he could imagine. And so he focused his gaze on Jade’s beautiful face, and sometime around midnight, after the night nurse had made her final rounds, Tanner fell asleep.