Ties That Bind Page 32

  Larissa clung to her and for the first time in more than a year, Marie-Thérèse felt loved by her daughter. The feeling was delicious, and she knew suddenly that her love for Larissa and Mathieu was what would keep her living after the Lord took Brandon.

  “I wish it was me,” Larissa said in the dark.

  “I’ve been here wishing that it were me,” Marie-Thérèse replied. Then out of habit she added, “I guess this is how Jesus felt in the Garden of Gethsemane, why He was willing to die for us.” Why did she say it? Did she really believe? She was no longer sure.

  “Yeah.” Larissa gave a little sigh and snuggled closer. “I’m sorry, Mom. For what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it. I was scared. I know Brandon and I fight a lot, but I—I love him.”

  “Shhh, I know. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry.”

  Larissa hiccuped gently. “Not you.”

  “Even me.” Marie-Thérèse was glad that her daughter couldn’t see the feverish upheaval in her heart.

  “Is Brandon really going to die?”

  Yes, Marie-Thérèse wanted to say, but instead she answered softly, “I don’t know.”

  They stood together silently for a long time, until Marie-Thérèse’s knees ached. She slid to the chair, bringing her daughter to her lap. Larissa was nearly asleep when Mathieu came in quietly, peering at her in the dim glow of the headboard nightlight.

  “I’ve looked everywhere,” he said. “I can’t find Larissa. Do you think I was too hard on her?”

  “She’s here with me.”

  Mathieu breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank heaven!” When his eyes adjusted to the dark, he moved forward. “Maybe you should take her home. I’ll wait with Brandon.”

  “I can’t leave him.”

  “Well, I’m not leaving you.” Mathieu’s voice had a stubborn tone Marie-Thérèse recognized all too well.

  “Okay, stay. But at least take Larissa to sleep out on a couch in the waiting room. This room is so small there’s not enough space for all of us. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

  Mathieu knelt by her chair, taking the hand that was not supporting Larissa. “I love you, Marie-Thérèse, and we’ll get through this. Try to have faith. Please. You have always been such an example to me. I need your strength.”

  Marie-Thérèse felt she had none left to give, but she nodded because he’d asked and because if it came right down to it, she loved him even more than she loved Brandon. He kissed her mouth gently and then offered a prayer.

  A last family prayer, Marie-Thérèse thought sadly. Her stomach twisted, but as she hadn’t eaten since her lunch with Josette, she was in little danger of losing its contents.

  Mathieu carried the sleeping Larissa out of the room, leaving Marie-Thérèse alone with Brandon. She took his hand. In and out he breathed, seeming only asleep. How deceiving!

  New tears slipped down her face.

  * * *

  Larissa was only pretending to sleep as her father carried her from the room. She felt so warm and secure in his arms, and during his prayer, she had heard the love in his voice and it was as if she knew for the first time that her parents loved her. The warm, tender emotions that filled her heart were so wonderful she was afraid if she moved they would disappear.

  Her father laid her gently on the couch and smoothed her hair. She heard a noise and peeked through her lashes to see him wiping tears from his cheeks. His lips were moving as if in prayer.

  Would prayer really help? Her dad obviously thought it would, and so did her mom. But Larissa hadn’t prayed. She wasn’t sure God would want to hear anything from her. Yet Brandon might die if she didn’t and then she would remember forever that she’d told him he wasn’t wanted. He might die believing that.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Dear Father in Heaven, she began. I don’t know that You exist, but Mom and Dad say You do. And Aunt Josette, too. I want to believe. Please make Brandon be better. Or let it be me instead. Not Brandon. He’s too good. I’m the one who deserves to be punished. Take me instead.

  Her pleas increased in fervor. Please, Father in Heaven. Help us! I’m sorry for everything, and I promise to try to be better to my family. Please bless Brandon! Tears squeezed out of her eyes and made a path down her cheek to the couch cushion.

  “Larissa?”

  She opened her eyes as her father gathered her into his arms. “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “You have to understand that.”

  “But Brandon could die,” she said in a small voice.

  “He could, but that doesn’t mean things won’t be all right. We still need to have faith. All of us. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes.” She felt she could do anything for Brandon. Anything to ease her parents’ suffering.

  Her father’s arms tightened around her. “Then trust me when I say it’s going to be okay.”

  Larissa shut her eyes again and pressed her face against his shirt. Once again she felt warm and secure. Was it the Spirit? Or was it the warmth of her father’s arms?

  Maybe right that moment they were the same thing.

  * * *

  Eyes tightly closed, Marie-Thérèse prayed. She pleaded, begged, and sorrowed until there was no strength left in her body.

  At long last a voice whispered inside her soul, Trust in Me.

  I did trust You, she answered silently. And You took my mother, and my father, and my little sister. And the other babies I might have had. You can’t have Brandon too! She never thought she would be angry at God, but she was now.

  What if I told you it was his time to come home? Marie-Thérèse wasn’t sure where the words came from, but suspected they originated in her own thoughts.

  She had no answer for the question. She wouldn’t let Brandon go. Opening her eyes, she placed her arm over Brandon’s inert form, as though she could keep his spirit from leaving. Trust in Me. The thought came again.

  You can’t have Brandon, she countered. Please! I’ll have nothing left.

  That wasn’t quite true. What of Mathieu and Larissa? What of the rest of her family and all the blessings the Lord had given her over the years? The strains of a familiar hymn came to her mind: Count your many blessing, see what God hath done. But she wasn’t in the mood to count them. Not when so much was at stake.

  She could barely make out Brandon’s face in the dim light, but the steady displays of the monitors comforted her. He was alive for now. But what if it was his time to go? Was she holding him back? Was he longing to fall into the arms of his loving Father in Heaven?

  Yes.

  Marie-Thérèse’s heart ached at the unwanted truth. But what about her?

  Count your blessings.

  As directed by the song, she began to count her blessings and see how much the Lord had given her. Loving family and friends, a roof over her head, years of happiness, forgiveness for sins, and hope of eternal life. The list could go on, but these were the most important.

  “Oh, Brandon,” she said with a sigh.

  Rising to her feet, she felt his face that was neither hot nor cold to the touch. Could she give him up if that was what the Lord required of her? Where did the bounds of her faith end? If she couldn’t give him wholly to the Lord, what kind of faith did she have? And how could he be healed if his own mother didn’t have enough faith? It was a paradox that puzzled her.

  So what did she believe? She thought about it a long time as she stroked her son’s unmoving cheeks. Her life’s trials ran through her mind, and in all honesty she had to admit that her Father had been near, guiding and protecting her. Could she give Him any less than all He required?

  “I’m so afraid,” she whispered to the dark. “Maybe I need more faith, yet if I pray for it, I’ll only receive another trial, and I don’t want another one of those—especially not the trial of losing my son.”

  Was that what it came down to? Another trial?

  Suddenly the irony of her words struck her with full force. She didn’t feel she had
enough faith, and yet if she prayed for faith, she would be given a trial designed to increase her faith. So obviously, she had faith that the Lord would answer her prayers—at least about some things.

  She wiped the tears from her cheeks. Maybe she wasn’t lacking faith so much as she lacked the strength and the will to exercise the faith she did have.

  Okay, she said, looking at the dark ceiling and trying to picture His face. I’ll trust in You, Father. I’ll trust You with Brandon’s life. I will exercise the faith that You will take care of him and us . . . one way or another.

  “Brandon,” she said aloud, taking his hand in hers. “I want you to fight as you have never fought before. I want you to live. Live!”

  Her voice became softer, but still urgent. “But if you must go, I understand. Or at least most of me does.” She faltered and then continued unsteadily, “I’ll miss you so, so much, but we will be together again. Obey the calling within you. The Lord will show you the way. Follow Him.”

  Looking once again heavenward, she added, “Father, Thy will be done.”

  The invisible load that had dragged on her shoulders lifted. She smiled wistfully at the quiet assurance that entered her heart, infusing her with a spiritual warmth that she knew was love coming from her Heavenly Father. She kissed her son and left the room to find Mathieu.

  He wasn’t asleep, but staring at the ceiling in the waiting room, partially holding a sleeping Larissa in his arms. Tears were drying on his face. He looked at her, a question in his eyes, but she shook her head. “Nothing new.” She kissed his cheek gently. “I just wanted to tell you that I know our son is in the Lord’s hands now. I wanted you to know that I do have faith, and that I know God loves us.”

  Mathieu met her gaze and smiled. Without his saying a word, she understood how happy he was that she had found her faith again. Brandon’s death would still be a difficult trial, but the Lord would sustain them.

  She returned to Brandon’s room to resume her mother’s vigil. Sitting forward in her chair, she laid her head on his bed, holding his hand until she fell asleep.

  When she awoke, the room was lighter, as rays of sun streamed through the gaps in the curtains. Without lifting her head, she felt for her son’s hand again, searching for a pulse. Surely the end was near.

  “Mom?”

  Stunned, Marie-Thérèse raised her head to see Brandon’s eyes fluttering. Her tongue had turned to stone.

  “Mom, are you there?” His voice was weak and wavering.

  Finally, she could speak. “Yes, Brandon. I’m here. Of course I’m here. I would never leave you.”

  “I saw it,” he said. “Heaven. I wanted to stay, but they made me come back.” He paused. “I’m glad I came back, though. I missed you.”

  Marie-Thérèse’s heart lifted in a silent prayer of gratitude. “I missed you, too.”

  * * *

  Later, Marie-Thérèse, Mathieu, and Larissa met with relatives in the waiting room to pass on the doctor’s assurance of Brandon’s full recovery.

  “I told you it was going to work out,” Josette whispered, hugging her. “And I think this experience with Brandon has changed Larissa. I doubt the rest of the changes she needs will come overnight, but she’s going in the right direction. You’ll see.”

  Marie-Thérèse nodded, too choked up to speak. There would be battles ahead, she was sure, but with faith in the Lord, anything was possible. She returned her sister’s hug, struggling for composure. “One thing I think you should know,” she said quietly. “Mathieu and I have decided to withdraw our adoption papers completely. We talked about it this morning after Brandon awoke. We want to concentrate on Larissa and Brandon now. It’s the right thing to do. Especially for Larissa.”

  “But you wanted another baby so much.” Josette’s face showed her curiosity.

  Marie-Thérèse shook her head solemnly. “What I want—need—is a close relationship with my daughter. And that’s going to take my full attention.” She spoke with confidence and met her sister’s gaze steadily, willing her to understand.

  “You’re right. Of course you’re right. Maybe someday—”

  “You never know how things may change, but for now I have a new dream. And I’m going to be happy. The Lord has blessed me with so very much; I won’t take it for granted again.”

  Larissa appeared at her side, and Marie-Thérèse put her arm around her daughter. Yes, everything was going to be just fine.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  One week later, Rebekka’s heart sang as she showered and dressed in her Swiss hotel room. After days of handling airline flights, hotel reservations, and arranging a brief civil ceremony in France, she and Marc would finally become husband and wife for all eternity.

  Carefully, she applied her makeup and arranged her hair, paying special attention to detail on this important day. As required by French law, she and Marc had legally married in France the day before, but they agreed to treat that civil ceremony as one more “reservation” to make before the real wedding. This morning, she would take a taxi to the Swiss Temple, where in the afternoon she and Marc would be sealed, not only for the span of life but for forever. A lifetime of dreams come true. She’d bought a new red dress and matching heels for the occasion, something special to leave the temple in after changing from her white dress.

  Marc’s doctor hadn’t been too enthusiastic about their plans for the wedding in Switzerland, but Josette, due to give birth in two weeks, insisted they have it before her baby was born so that she would be able to make the trip to Switzerland.

  “When she’s like this, you simply have to give in,” Zack had said, winking adoringly at his wife. The offended stare she cast in his direction melted immediately at the love so clearly etched in his eyes.

  “He’ll only be getting married in the temple once,” Josette had replied with a shrug. “And there’s no way they’ll want to wait a month for me to have the baby and recover. Look at them all goo-goo-eyed, like a couple of calves. Besides, I’ll be fine. None of our babies except Preston have come early, and my labors are so easy, you could probably deliver the baby yourself if you had too.” They had all laughed at Zack’s suddenly pale face. With the couples’ past births the nurses spent as much time making sure he didn’t faint as they did comforting Josette.

  So it was decided, and almost three weeks after Marc’s second transplant, Rebekka and Marc would have their temple wedding, and Josette would be there to see her twin sealed. Since Josette wasn’t allowed on a plane for fear of an early delivery, she and Zack had gone ahead by car and picked up the rest of the family at the airport the night before.

  Rebekka still worried constantly about Marc’s health, but he had assured her repeatedly that although he wouldn’t be skiing any time soon, he felt fit enough to at least walk to his own wedding.

  “I promise to take it easy on you,” Rebekka had teased with a glint in her eyes. With relish she had taken care of nearly all the wedding arrangements, assisted by her mother and Ariana. Marc’s sole contribution had been scheduling their stay at an oceanside resort in Nice, where they could depend on fairly good honeymoon weather despite their December wedding.

  As she walked into the adjoined sitting room to place her makeup bag with her other luggage, Rebekka heard her parents’ voices coming from the largest bedroom of their shared suite. Good, they’re up, she thought, ready for some company. She had taken a few steps toward their door when her father’s words caused her to pause, unsure if she should interrupt them.

  “Why did you put up with me all these years?” Philippe was asking.

  “Because you’re a good man and you’ve been good to me,” Danielle answered. “And because I love you.”

  “I’ve been so blind.”

  Danielle gave a low, silky laugh. They fell quiet and Rebekka assumed they were kissing.

  “I can’t wait to see the look on Raoul’s face when I ask him to baptize me,” Philippe said after a long while.

  Rebekka ra
n to knock on the partially open door. At her parents’ invitation, she pounced into the room. “What?” she demanded of her parents, who smiled at her eagerness. “Did I hear you say baptize?”

  “We thought you were still asleep, dear,” Danielle said. “After all, we don’t have to be at the temple for another two hours.” She winked at Philippe.

  Philippe grinned. “It’s your wedding gift, Rebekka. I planned to tell you after the ceremony. I may not be able to see you sealed today, but I will be able to help bless your first child.”

  Rebekka ran to the bed and flung her arms around her father as she hadn’t done since she was a small girl. “Oh, Daddy, that’s the best present ever!”

  “Then why are you crying?” He chucked her gently under the chin. “Come on, this is my little girl’s wedding day. We can’t have your eyes all red now. What will Marc think?”

  “I’m just so happy,” she blubbered. She searched her father’s blue eyes and found no trace of the smoldering anger that had for so long lurked behind them. There was a new peace in its place, one she had never seen before.

  As though reading her thoughts he said, “I should have listened sooner. I’ve wasted a lot of years.”

  Danielle patted his arm lovingly. “You’re ready now, and that’s enough.” There was a tremor in her voice and a new happiness in her face that told Rebekka how much Philippe’s decision meant to her.

  She’s waited even longer than I have, Rebekka thought. Aloud she asked, “When did all this happen? I thought you said were talking to the missionaries because of Thierry.”

  “That’s what I wanted you to believe.” Philippe’s face sobered. “I didn’t want to raise any false hopes.”

  “You mean all these weeks you’ve been listening to them?”

  “That’s right. Of course, I was working on finding Thierry’s family, too.”

  “It’s a good thing you did,” Danielle put in. “Thierry’s thriving under André’s care. I’m glad he plans to adopt the boy. I just hope his birth father doesn’t return and make trouble.”