“Lord, you know our concern. You know the circumstances of our son and his family. Whatever those circumstances, we ask for your divine intervention on their behalf. Be with them, Lord, wherever they are. Meet any needs that they might have at this hour. Bring them to us—safely—quickly. Quiet our hearts and minds as we wait. We admit our dependence on you, God, our need for your presence and peace. We thank you that we can trust you with all things. In the name of Jesus, your Son, amen.”
They looked up, drew gently apart, wiping tears from cheeks, blowing noses. Seeking to once again gain control of frayed emotions.
Christine saw the hands on the clock steadily ticking toward one in the morning.
“I think I’ll take that shoulder rub now,” her mother said with resolve. Christine moved forward to comply but was stopped by the sound of the doorbell. The entire room came alive.
“Thank you, Lord,” Christine heard her mother murmur as she sprang from the couch and moved toward the hall. Wynn followed closely behind her, Christine a few steps back.
Her mother flung open the door, words of relieved greeting already beginning. “Henry—”
A uniformed police officer stood in the arc of porch light— but not their Henry. He reached up and awkwardly pulled off his billed cap.
“Mrs. Delaney?” he asked hesitantly, shifting from one foot to the other.
Wynn reached for Elizabeth and nodded at the man.
“I’m sorry to inform you . . . your son and family have been in a motor vehicle accident.”
Christine saw her mother go limp in her father’s arms.
Looking back on that night, it was hard to untangle the rest of the events. Somehow Christine and her folks got to the local hospital. Somehow they sorted through the scant details. Somehow they found themselves in Henry’s room, looking down on the swollen, bandaged face of the man who was their son and brother. The doctor hovering nearby informed them in a low but professional voice that Henry “sustained a blow to the head that has resulted in a concussion. The prognosis is good. The X-rays indicate that he can be expected to regain consciousness without much delay and should have no significant future problem.”
Sick with fear, Christine wondered just what that meant.
Elizabeth stood silently weeping beside Henry’s bed, one hand lovingly stroking his exposed arm where the IV needle fed something into his bloodstream.
“How are the others?” Christine heard her father ask, his voice husky with emotion.
“His wife is resting comfortably. We’ve given the boy a sedative to quiet him. He was understandably quite emotional.”
“We need to see them,” said Elizabeth, wiping her eyes. Christine was surprised at how brave and in control her mother had become.
“This way,” said the doctor.
Amber’s room was just down the hall. She, too, was swathed in bandages for the facial cuts the doctor told them about. She also had suffered a broken pelvis along with the cuts from flying glass. What they could see of Amber’s face was pale, but she was conscious. She reached out a hand to them, and tears began to fill her eyes. Elizabeth leaned over and held her, and they wept together.
“How . . . how are they?” she asked, brokenly.
“Danny is . . . is resting. They’ve given him something to help him sleep. Henry . . . will be fine. He got a bump on the head and he was cut up a bit—but he’ll be fine,” Elizabeth tried to reassure her daughter-in-law.
“It happened so quickly,” said Amber, staring vacantly at the ceiling.
“Just what happened?”
She shook her head. “I’m . . . I’m not really sure. We had just come into town—”
“You were in town—here?” Elizabeth sounded incredulous.
Amber nodded.
“We had arrived—shortly before ten, I think. Henry had . . . had just remarked that we’d made good time. We approached this intersection. Then I heard Henry say, ‘Oh no,’ or something like that, and when I looked up this car came smashing into us. I don’t . . . I don’t think I ever lost consciousness. I heard Danny screaming, but I couldn’t see him. I reached for Henry, but he was . . . he was limp. Draped over the steering wheel. I was so frightened. I thought he was dead.” Amber broke into sobs again while Elizabeth patted her shoulder. She finally was able to continue. “And then people started to come, and everyone was yelling and running, and soon I heard sirens. I knew help was on the way.
“I was so thankful when I saw a man checking Henry and heard him say, ‘He’s still breathing,’ but I was afraid he’d never make it to the hospital. There was blood all over and—”
“Shh,” whispered Elizabeth, holding the girl again. “Don’t talk about it. Try not to think about the accident. You’re all safe now. It’s going to be okay. Shh.”
Wynn moved close to take Amber’s hand while Christine stood back. Still. Mute. What was intended to be a great family celebration had turned into a tragic nightmare.
“I’m so worried,” whispered Amber. “We thought we were bringing you good news—now I’m so frightened—”
“What do you mean?” Christine saw her mother’s eyes wide with concern.
“We . . . wanted to tell you this together. We . . . we are going to have a baby.”
Elizabeth gave a little gasp, then hugged Amber as close as she dared.
“We . . . we were so excited. Henry wanted to tell you himself. That was one reason we came now. But after . . . after this I’m afraid I might lose it.” She was weeping again.
“Is the doctor aware—?” began Wynn, moving closer to the bed.
“Yes. Yes—I told him right away. He says they will do all they can, but the pelvis . . .” Amber blinked back tears.
Her injury suddenly had more significance.
“I was only eight weeks along. It’s so early. I . . . I really am afraid that—”
“You try to rest,” Elizabeth comforted, patting her daughter-in-law’s arm. “We are going to see Danny—then we’ll pop back in and sit with you.”
Danny was sound asleep with the help of the sedative. His face had two cuts. Other than that, he looked whole. They each whispered prayers of thanks. He was being held for observation, the doctor had said. If all was as expected, he could be released sometime in the afternoon.
They went back to Amber’s room. She seemed to have gotten herself well under control. Wynn left the women seated by her bed, telling them he would go out to the lobby to inform Jonathan and Mary of the situation. He soon was back with the two, and they made a brief tour to the three rooms and then were sent on their way home. There was nothing to be gained by them sitting out the night in the waiting room.
Then Wynn was gone again. At Elizabeth’s questioning look, he had said something about looking into the police report. Christine was sure her father wanted to find out exactly what had happened. And why had it taken so long for the family to be notified.
By the time he returned, Amber had finally managed to fall asleep and seemed to be resting comfortably. Elizabeth looked about to fall asleep in her chair.
“I think it best we go home and try to get some rest,” he advised. “We’ll need to be back later. Danny will be waking, and perhaps Henry—”
“I want to look in on Henry before we leave,” Elizabeth said quickly.
Wynn nodded.
With one last pat of Amber’s hand, Elizabeth rose from her chair. They walked to Henry’s room without conversation. He was just as they had left him. Christine noticed with thankfulness that his breathing sounded even. Elizabeth seemed to find it hard to leave the room. “Please be sure to call us the minute he awakens,” she informed the nurse at the station desk. The woman simply nodded.
Christine wondered if anyone would be able to get any sleep.
Word traveled quickly, and the family responded with shock and sorrow. The gathering became more like a somber funeral wake than the expected joyous reunion. Elizabeth grate- fully accepted all their expressions of sympathy.
“Oh, Aunt Beth,” said Kathleen, throwing her arms around her favorite aunt, tears on her cheeks. “I am so sorry.”
Elizabeth returned the warm hug, holding Kathleen close for a long time. When she finally pushed back, she brushed at tears. But her countenance was remarkably controlled. “It could have been much worse,” she said resolutely. “I feel our prayers were answered. God did protect them.”
“Exactly what happened?” queried William.
“Some fellow ran a stop sign, Wynn found out from the police report. He’d had a bit too much to drink and said he didn’t see it.”
“And I suppose he walked away intact?”
“Not even a cut.”
William shook his head.
“Hit them broadside on the passenger side,” Wynn explained. “Amber got the worst of it. Henry struck his head. They’re not sure on what. Danny was thrown around. He will be sore for a while, but nothing is broken.” Wynn ran a hand over the back of his neck. He had told Christine privately that he would not relax until Henry was out of the coma—but he dared not let Elizabeth sense his agitation.
Elizabeth now forced a smile around the group. “We are going over to General Hospital, but why don’t you just . . . just try to have your party? It’s not going to help for you all to be missing out on the fun of being together. Everyone is going to be okay. It will take a little time . . . but they’ll make it. We have so much to be thankful for. So . . . go ahead. Enjoy your time together. That’s the way Henry and Amber would want it.”
It was a brave speech. Christine admired her mother and hoped the family members would be able to follow through with their plans.
The three headed back to the hospital as soon as they had downed some coffee. They didn’t feel much like eating anything.
Just as they neared the desk a nurse looked up. “I was about to call you,” she said. “I think your son is trying to wake up.”
They hurried to Henry’s room. The only indication that he was no longer in a deep sleep was an occasional groan and a movement of his head or hand. Wynn was the first to his side.
“Son. Son—can you hear me? We’re here. Your mother and I and Christine. Can you open your eyes, Henry? Do you hear me, son?”
Elizabeth crowded in close and began entreaties of her own. “Henry? Dear? Can you hear us? We’re here with you. Amber is okay. So is Danny. They are concerned about you. Are you awake?”
But Henry did not respond.
“I’m going to check on Amber and Danny,” Christine whispered, partly because she could not stand to watch their seemingly futile attempts.
She found Amber still sleeping. The nurse leaving her room cautioned, “She needs to rest. That’s the best thing for her right now.”
Christine nodded. She would not awaken her sister-in-law.
She moved on to Danny’s room. The little boy was just stirring. When he opened his eyes, he seemed totally confused. He looked about the strange room, then appeared greatly relieved when Christine came into his view.
“Where’s my mom?” he asked immediately.
“She is here. She is still sleeping.”
He looked puzzled. “Where is this? Is this Aunt Mary’s house?”
“No. This . . . this is a hospital.”
He pushed up from his pillow and grimaced. “Why did we come here?”
“Your mama and daddy are both here with you. There’re just . . . just in another bedroom,” said Christine, hoping to divert panic. She wasn’t sure what to say to the child.
“Why?” he asked. “Why didn’t we go to Aunt Mary’s house?” There was fear in his eyes.
“Because,” Christine said, struggling for words, “because your car was in an accident. You got some cuts that needed to be fixed.”
“Did Mama get cuts too?” He put a hand to his face and felt the bandages.
“Yes. Yes—your mama got some cuts too.”
He looked worried. “And Dad?”
“Yes—Dad too.”
“Are they okay?”
“They’re hurt right now—but they’ll be okay.”
“I hurt too.”
“I know,” said Christine, holding out her arms to him. He accepted the hug, clinging to her as she embraced him.
“Where are all the other people?” he asked, pulling away to look into her face.
“The other people?”
“The . . . Grandpa and Grandma and the . . . the cousins and stuff?”
“Well . . . Grandpa and Grandma are . . . are visiting your daddy, and the cousins and stuff are at Aunt Mary’s house.”
“I want to visit my daddy too.”
“And you can. As soon as the doctor checks you—and says you can get out of bed. But your daddy is still very sleepy. He might not be awake.”
“And Mama?”
“Your mama was sleeping, too, when I checked a minute ago. But I expect she will be waking up soon. Oh, look. Here’s a book by your bed. Shall we read it?”
The boy was easily distracted as Christine began the story. She hoped the doctor would be around shortly. She didn’t wish to try to answer more questions from little Danny.
When Danny was discharged that afternoon, Elizabeth sent Wynn and Christine out to purchase a new outfit for him. She did not want to worry him with the sight of his bloodstained garments. He seemed excited with the new clothes but puzzled about why he was leaving the hospital without his parents.
“We’ll stop and see them on our way out,” promised Christine.
True to her word, she took Danny first to his father’s room. Danny wondered, “Why is he still asleep?” When there was no immediate answer, he continued. “Why has he got that thing poking him?”
“That’s a special hospital needle. The doctor can give medicines with it.”
“Why does he need medicines?”
Christine looked to her parents for help.
“You know how you felt when you were hurt?” asked Wynn. Danny nodded. “Well, your dad is hurting too. The medicine helps him get well.”
“Why didn’t they give me some?”
“Oh, they did. It was just a different kind. We have a little packet of pills to take with us to help you with your hurts.”
Danny seemed satisfied. “Can I see Mom now?” he asked.
They exchanged glances, and then Christine hurried on ahead to make sure Amber was ready to see her son. Wynn and Elizabeth followed more slowly with Danny.
Christine could not believe how brave Amber was. In spite of her pain, in spite of her fears, she put on a smiling face and held out her hand to Danny.