“I understand how you feel, Mr. Marks, believe me, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do,” the Higley Lakes administrator replied patiently that third Saturday morning in March.
He’d been calling the floor nurse almost every day, checking on his mother’s progress or lack thereof, but David had only spoken with Helen Carr once, the day she’d phoned to tell him his mother was sick. And then called back to say that she still refused to see him.
“I won’t come if she won’t see me. I don’t want to upset her. But I really need your help, Ms. Carr. Could you try to convince her it’ll be okay?”
“I have tried, Mr. Marks. She just becomes hysterical, and then we have to sedate her.”
“It’s been twenty-three years since I’ve spoken to her, Ms. Carr.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Marks, I just can’t ask her anymore.”
Thanking the woman for nothing, David rang off. He’d just heard from the floor nurse that his mother’s condition was worsening.
If she died before he got to see her, to beg her forgiveness, to forgive…
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO COME to every game, you know.” Martha wasn’t sure if she was irritated because she was so glad to see David Marks on Saturday afternoon, or because he was there at all.
“I told Tim I would,” he said, settling his long legs behind the edge of the metal bleacher seat in front of them. “How’s he doing?”
Tim was on the mound, winding up. “It’s only the bottom of the first. This is their first time at bat.”
He nodded. Watched her son’s form. And then gave a loud cheer when Tim struck the batter out in three pitches.
“He’s got real promise.”
She nodded. Todd had been good at baseball. He’d been Tim’s first coach, taking him through T-ball and into his first year in Little League.
“Any news from Greg?” David asked at the break before the top of the second.
“Nope.” The one word spoke volumes about Martha’s peace of mind.
“We’ve got watch duty again on Tuesday.”
“I know.” She’d suggested that morning that Ellen might want to take the kids down to the diner for dinner on Tuesday, but her oldest daughter had adamantly refused. Ellen didn’t seem to voluntarily go anywhere these days.
“I’m planning to spend a couple of hours out by the highway tonight. You want to join me?”
He was facing the field and she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. When he repeated himself, she said, “What on earth are you doing out by the highway?”
“Watching. On the off chance we have another hitchhiker. Another car comes along and offers the girl a ride….”
“You don’t think Ellen’s attack was due to a random act of foolishness on her part?”
Martha had never really considered it anything else.
Had, in a way, felt somewhat comforted by that. Because it meant that if she ensured her kids followed all the rules, they’d be safe.
“It probably is, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check.”
There was an odd note in his voice. He knew more than he was saying. Or at least he suspected more. He’d implied that from the beginning. His “no questions” rule was going to make her insane. If the rest of her life didn’t get her there first.
“The kids received their report cards yesterday.” She was looking straight ahead. Making idle conversation.
“And?”
“Shelley’s A’s dropped to C’s and even one D.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The facts spoke for themselves. Still, the pastor had big strong shoulders, and they were right there next to her, one of them even touching her.