32

Sabrina jerked awake knowing that she was going to be late for class. Why hadn’t her alarm gone off? She looked at the clock, her heart pounding.

Four thirty.

Thank goodness. It must have been a dream, or just a random jolt of adrenaline. Whatever the cause, it wasn’t real. A long deep breath and slow exhale served to ease some of the tension. She double-checked that the alarm was indeed set for six thirty and turned to the “on” position, then fell back against her pillows. Two more hours of blessed sleep. She rolled over and pulled the cover up tight against her chin.

Her bed was so warm and soft and comfy. Soon she felt herself floating in the haze of a peaceful breeze.

And then she was running.

Feet pounding against the pavement as she moved up a steep hill. She could hear her coach’s voice yelling down toward her, “Surge. Surge.” She paid attention to the lift of her knees, the straight pump of her arms, and the position of her head. Form matters most when you’re tired. Concentrate. Now’s when champions are made. She repeated those words over and over in her head as she made her way to the top of the hill, which she couldn’t quite see because it was covered in fog. Still, she pushed to the end, knowing as she reached the top that she’d given it everything she had.

As she broke through the fog layer, she looked toward her coach, hoping for confirmation that she’d done well, already smiling because she was certain that she had. And then she saw her coach’s face and stopped running.

The woman she saw . . . was herself.

Sabrina the coach was smiling and clapping, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was cheering for herself. “I’m so proud of you. You gave it everything you had. Way to stick with it.”

Sabrina jerked awake. The dream had been so vivid, so real, that she couldn’t shake it. She kept seeing her face, hearing her voice of encouragement, and remembering how much her real coach’s words had meant to her as a runner.

She stared at the ceiling, which was little more than a gray presence in the predawn. The dream may have been gone, but all sorts of emotions still surged within her—hope, confusion, and anger. Sabrina flipped over, buried her head in her pillow, and screamed.

Why was this happening to her? Even as she asked the question she already knew its answer. She was supposed to be helping Brandy now. She felt it as strongly and with as much certainty as she’d ever felt anything. Yet just the thought of putting herself back into it, knowing how much of a risk it was, how foolish she’d look, felt impossible. Every time she had a dream, a calling—or at least the belief that it was a calling—she was eventually made to realize that she’d been wrong about the whole thing and ultimately embarrassed by the disastrous results.

She shook her head and stared at the ceiling. God, why don’t I ever hear you correctly? I always try to follow in faith, and things always fall apart. What am I doing wrong?

For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to go back and fully remember. The dream of running, the years and years of hard work, the constant striving to be better and do better because of the call. She remembered the girl she had been back then. Full of absolute and unwavering faith. So convinced of her call and the strength of her God that she’d never questioned any of it. That strength of faith had long since disappeared behind a cloud of reality.

Really? Was it a cloud of reality or was it the difficulties of the wilderness that turned your heart back toward Egypt?

Sabrina shook her head as she tried to shake off the thought that had surfaced, unsolicited and unwanted. She was not turning away from God’s call on her life; she’d simply realized that she’d misunderstood the call.

Really?

Is that what it was?

The thought dug deep into places that Sabrina did not want to visit. This was crazy, because she knew that the voice was wrong, anyway. She looked toward the clock.

Five fifteen.

Brandy probably wasn’t even out there. Without someone there to hold her accountable, she would blow the whole thing off.

Still, in spite of what she believed, Sabrina pulled on a pair of sweats and headed for the door, having no idea what she would find—or what she would do in any case.

Brandy rounded the corner for another lap, but her feet and legs were in full rebellion. Heavy. Tired. Not like the other time when Sabrina had told her to take it easy. No, this was a full body, no energy, emotional drain kind of exhaustion. Why was she here, anyway? It’s not like anyone would know the difference, or even care.

She wouldn’t allow herself to stop yet, but the consideration was gaining ground. It’s not like it mattered anymore.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Sabrina’s voice came from the general direction of the front porch.

Brandy turned and jogged back toward it. “What are you doing out here?”

“Watching a slacker, apparently.” Sabrina walked across the lawn and sat on her usual spot on the retaining wall. “Hopefully, this next lap will prove me wrong.”

Brandy jogged directly up in front of Sabrina. “Listen, I want to say—” she took a couple of deep breaths—“about the other day—”

“Say it after your workout. Right now, I want to see some effort.”

“But I—”

“I came out to watch you run. Get moving.” Sabrina’s tone was as gruff as Brandy had ever heard. Apparently this was not going to be a quick makeup scene.

Brandy made for the far corner, moving faster than she had been just a few minutes ago. Hopefully Sabrina noticed. If Sabrina was outside, it meant she had changed her mind and was going to keep training her. Right? Or maybe she had gone back into the house by now and that was the end of it. Who knew?

Wanting to know the answer to that question pushed her to move a little faster than usual around the block. She turned the final corner, her eyes straining to see the retaining wall. A dark silhouette sat framed in the streetlight. She was still there. Brandy ran a little faster but moved past Sabrina without daring to look at her.

Three laps later, she finally chanced a glance toward Sabrina. She had her knees pulled up to her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs, apparently trying to keep warm. She seemed to be staring at the house across the street, giving no indication that she even knew Brandy was passing her.

By the end of the workout, Brandy had crafted a nice long apology. She’d thought out each word carefully, prepared to do what she could to defuse the situation. She rounded the corner from her cooldown lap to find the wall empty. Sabrina had gone inside.

Conversation over.

Friday morning, Sabrina’s alarm sounded at four forty-five. Although she hadn’t spoken with Brandy since Wednesday, she’d planned to at least go sit outside again today. This morning, however, she just couldn’t do it. She turned off the alarm and rolled over. It required too much energy to get out of bed. Maybe it would do Brandy some good to work alone.

Several hours later, when she finally did get up, it took about ten minutes before the guilt set in. That little inner voice kept saying that she should have gotten up. A second voice was quick to respond that she had not committed to anyone that she would return to training and was under no compulsion to do so.

It was a cop-out and she knew it. She needed to make a decision and stick with it. Even when times got hard.

That was something she would think about later. When she was more awake and had time. For now, she needed to hurry and get ready for class. And she had another doctor’s appointment this afternoon. These were things she needed to think about now.

Later that day, she sat in the waiting room of the school clinic. Again. This was her third visit in the past week and a half. Hopefully they would find the right antibiotic this time and get this nose thing cleared up. Her entire nose was puffy now, with red crusty scabs covering most of the left side. It was disgusting.

It was bad enough to watch Lindy Stewart in all her glory prancing around after Koen without having to look like a freak in the meantime. Sabrina was almost certain she’d heard her snickering behind her just this morning outside of psych class. To Koen’s credit, he didn’t seem to be giving Lindy anything more than polite attention, and he always smiled and said hello to Sabrina. Maybe she had been too quick to judge him. If only . . .

“Sabrina, come on back.”

Sabrina followed the aide back through the doors, had her weight and blood pressure taken, and then walked through the back into an exam room. She sat on the paper-sheeted exam table and wished the doctor would hurry up.

A scuffling sound came from the back side of the door. After so many trips here, Sabrina knew what that sound meant. The doctor had picked up her chart from the shelf outside. At least she wouldn’t have to wait long to be seen today.

The doctor of the day was young, maybe thirty or so, and pretty. She had shoulder-length brown hair, deep hazel eyes that seemed to light up her entire face, and a spring in her step—which was amazing considering the fact that she appeared to be about eight months pregnant. She stuck out her hand. “Hello, Sabrina, I’m Dr. Strohm.”

Sabrina shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Dr. Strohm wasted no more time on niceties. Instead, she immediately leaned forward, squinted her eyes, and began to check out Sabrina’s nose. “Tell me again what it is you’re taking for your arthritis?”

“Naproxen, methotrexate, leucovorin, and adalimumab are the medications specific for my arthritis, plus there are a few others I take to manage the side effects of those.”

“I see.” She nodded. “And we’ve had you on three different antibiotic ointments, plus an oral cephalasporin and a sulfa antibiotic with no improvement. Right?”

“Right.”

“I’m concerned that you have a resistant staph infection. I’m going to put in a call to your rheumatologist to discuss this, then I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Sabrina picked up a magazine from the basket in the room. Apparently Costa Rica would be a nice place to spend a vacation. She flipped through page after page of beach photos and rain forest, paying very little attention to any of it.

Her phone vibrated in the side pocket of her purse, so she picked it up. New email flashed on the screen. She clicked the icon.

Sabrina rolled her eyes. That woman was wound way too tight. Truth was, Sabrina had indeed been present at Wednesday’s session, so other than Friday, things had gone more or less according to plan. Since the paper work wasn’t due until Monday, she saw no reason to send “immediate” confirmation. Let Mrs. Lauderdale stew for the weekend—maybe it would do her some good.

The door opened. “Your rheumatologist and I are in complete agreement as to the next course of your treatment. We’re putting all of your arthritis meds on hold. We don’t want anything to suppress your immune system right now. And, while there is another oral antibiotic we could try, given the fact that your immune system is already suppressed due to what you’ve been taking, I’m making the call to hospitalize you for a couple of days so you can get some IV antibiotics.”

“Hospital?” This thought had never crossed Sabrina’s mind. “Other than a cold I can’t seem to kick, and this rash, I feel fine.”

Dr. Strohm shook her head. “And I’d like to keep it that way, so I think it’s time we erred on the side of caution. Now, here’s the good news: it’s Friday morning. I’ll talk to the folks over at General and ask them to admit you this evening. After forty-eight hours you should be on the road to recovery, so you won’t have to miss any classes. Not so bad, huh?”

“I guess not.” Sabrina sat numbly while the doctor made the appropriate calls. She came back and said, “They want you to check in tonight at seven thirty. That is right after shift change, and things will be slower up on the floors by then. Sound good?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

Sabrina walked out of the doctor’s office, too stunned to think. By the time she got to her car, she had at least thought to call her mother’s cell phone and explained to her what was going on.

“So, you feel okay?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ll be in the hospital for a couple of days?”

“Sounds like it.”

“I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

“Mom, I’m fine. You don’t have to come, really. It’s just some silly meds.”

“Silly meds or not, no daughter of mine is going to be in the hospital for two days while I’m lollygagging around in the comfort of my own home. Of course I’ll be there. We’re going to make the best of it, you wait and see. It’ll be like a girls’ weekend away—only in this particular instance the away part will be a hospital room. I’ll take care of everything, don’t you worry.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“That’s my girl. I’ve taught you well.”

Sabrina hung up and couldn’t help but smile. She wondered what kind of crazy scheme her mother would concoct to make the best of this weekend.

The local hospital was less than a year old. The hallways were lined with gleaming tile, and the pale green walls were sparkling clean and loaded with beautiful landscapes painted by local artists. It would have been a lovely place except for the whole sick and dying thing.

A heavyset woman wearing a green volunteer jacket led Sabrina and her mother up the elevator and through a set of corridors until they arrived at room 263. “Here’s the closet and a couple of drawers where you can unload your stuff. Bathroom’s here, of course,” she said, pushing the door to the bathroom open a little wider. She walked over to the bed and picked up the remote. “Nurse’s call button is right here, and these buttons work the TV and DVD player. Thermostat’s on the wall. Get yourself settled, honey. The nurse’ll be with you in just a few minutes. Is there anything you need in the meantime?”

“No, thank you.”

“I wish you the best.” She closed the door behind her, leaving Sabrina and her mother standing in the middle of the room.

“Well, let’s get unpacked, shall we?” Mom went to the closet and hung up a couple of shirts she’d carried in on hangers. Then she turned her attention to a medium-sized red duffle that looked as though it might split at the seams.

“Mom, that bag looks pretty full. How many outfits do you think you’re going to need for this little hospital excursion?”

“Well, a couple of changes of clothes, of course, but mostly this bag is full of contraband.”

“Contraband? Like what?”

Mom smiled and reached inside her bag. In a matter of seconds she had removed bags of popcorn, gummy bears, and chocolate-covered peanuts.

Sabrina laughed out loud. “I don’t ever remember seeing you in possession of quite that much junk food.”

“It’s not junk food—well, not exactly. In this particular case, it’s theater food, which we need because—” she reached inside her bag and pulled out four plastic cases and held them over her head—“we are having a Pirates of the Caribbean movie marathon this weekend.”

“Pirates marathon, huh? Now, that’s what I call making the best out of a bad situation.”

“My point exactly.” Her mother’s smile lit up her face and shone out through her eyes. “Might as well have a little bit of fun with this detour.”

It was over an hour later and well into the adventures of Captain Jack Sparrow before the attending physician made it into the room. Mom hit the Pause button on the DVD and came to stand at Sabrina’s side.

The doctor was in his early thirties, nice looking, and mostly well dressed. Except everything about his starched shirt and pressed khakis looked just a little askew, giving the impression of a neat freak who had just endured a really rough day. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as he looked through Sabrina’s chart. “I’m just going to be honest with you: I think this is a waste of all of our time for you to be here. If you were my patient I would put you on oral clindamycin for a few days and this would likely clear up. I called your doctor but she was adamant that this is what she wanted to do. I apologize that you are being inconvenienced like this.”

“I don’t consider it an inconvenience to get my daughter the best treatment for an infection.” Mom sounded downright offended. “I’m sorry if this feels like a waste of time for you, but I suppose you should have considered that before you went to medical school.”

That was about as blunt as Sabrina had ever heard her mom. She could only look on in stunned silence and wonder where this person had been lurking all these years.

The doctor glanced up at her, his eyes rolling as he turned his attention back to the chart, where he was scribbling orders. “I’ve ordered the Vanco. They should be in soon to set up your IV.” With that, he walked from the room without another word.

“My, my, someone’s having a hard day.” Mom stared at the door, her mouth open. Finally she stood up and said, “I’ll be right back.”