Eighteen
Luke wasn’t sure what kind of reaction to expect from Grace, but he hadn’t expected calmness. So calm that he offered to let her take a turn to sit by Izzy’s bed in the ICU room. He sat outside, watching as Grace stroked Izzy’s free wrist, the one that didn’t have the tube of precious golden blood hooked into it.
But he didn’t go far, just in case Grace started to cry. The last thing he wanted was for Izzy to wake up and see her mother wailing away, as if she was dying. She wasn’t. She couldn’t. He needed her. Katy Ann needed her.
He glanced at the clock, eager for Jenny to arrive. On the telephone, she said she would put the children to bed and come right down. He could let Jenny handle Grace; she had a way with her mother.
Dok turned the corner and saw him, then came down the hall and sat next to him. “Cheer up, Luke. That fire chief’s blood is going to get her through this.”
Dare he ask? “Dok, are you sure? She looks so . . . pale.” So lifeless.
She smiled. “Watch and see.”
Luke looked through the glass window at the bag of blood—Juan Miranda’s precious golden blood—hanging on the tripod, slowly dripping life into Izzy, his precious wife.
Dok leaned back in the chair and rubbed her face with her hands. “Luke, do you realize what a miracle has occurred here today?” She dropped her hands. “No, not just one. More than that. That Izzy got to the phone before she passed out. That Katy Ann was safely with her in the phone shanty. That help arrived before she’d lost too much blood. Then . . . the fire chief . . . being here, at just the right moment. And another miracle . . . Juan Miranda said he hadn’t given blood this month. He was scheduled to do it tomorrow. If he’d given blood, we couldn’t have taken more from him, not without jeopardizing his own well-being.” She crossed one knee over the other and folded her arms against her white coat. For a split second, she reminded Luke of David, her brother. Certain mannerisms seemed to be part of a person’s DNA.
Luke was sorely missing David’s presence. Whenever he was around David, he felt a sense of peace, of calm. All would be well. That was the effect David had on him, on everyone. Luke needed him here, more than ever, but he and Birdy hadn’t returned from somebody’s funeral in Berks County.
Juan Miranda came down the hall with two Styrofoam cups of coffee. He handed one cup to Luke and offered the second to Dok. “Would you like it?”
“No thanks,” Dok said. “And you shouldn’t be drinking coffee after giving so much blood. You should be eating a steak dinner. Drinking lots and lots of water.”
“I will. I promise. I just wanted to check on Izzy before heading home.” Juan looked at Luke. “I thought you’d be in there with Izzy.”
Luke took a sip of coffee. It was terrible and wonderful. Both. “Her mother is in with her.”
Juan walked to the ICU glass window and peered in for a moment. “That’s her mother?” When Luke nodded, he said, “She doesn’t look Amish.”
“She’s not,” Luke said. “Long story.” Very long.
“Juan,” Dok said, “there’s something that keeps niggling me.”
Juan turned and walked back to Dok and Luke. He took a sip of the coffee and made a face. It was terrible coffee. “What’s that?”
“Rhnull blood—it tends to run in families.”
At that moment, Grace walked out of the ICU room and took off her face mask. As she tossed it in the open bin, she glanced over, then did a double take and froze. Color drained from her face. Luke saw it happen, right before his eyes, like a stopper had been pulled.
After a long pause, she said, “Johnny?”
Juan swallowed, eyes wide. “Gracie? Is that you?”
“Do I look so very different?”
Juan’s face softened into a gentle smile. “No, no. You haven’t aged at all.”
“No? Well, maybe a little.” Grace dropped her gaze and fussily checked the hair at the back of her neck. She flashed him a brief, nervous smile. “Your hair. You kept it. Most men, they lose it.”
Whoa. Luke had a weird feeling swirl through his gut. “How do you two know each other?”
For the moment neither Juan nor Grace moved, or spoke. They stood rooted by surprise and curiosity, staring at each other.
It was Dok who broke the awkwardness with a gasp. “Oh my . . . ,” she said. “Oh my, oh my.” She pointed to Juan. “Golden blood. The odds are one in a million. A trillion! Unless . . . you’re related to Izzy. Could it be? Is it possible?”
Juan let out a laugh, more like a fake cough. “No, unfortunately. I never had any children.”
“Well, actually,” Grace said slowly, face reddening as she spoke. “Actually, Johnny, you did.”
Too much. This was too much. Too much change, too much happening. Too fast. Luke plopped down on the nearest chair, dropped his head between his knees, and gulped in air. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out.
Carefully, slowly, Izzy sat up in bed, wincing at the pain in her abdomen. Dok wanted her up and walking around as soon as she could, but told her not to get out of bed without help. At least she’d been moved out of ICU this morning, sooner than expected, and had been able to see Katy Ann.
No. She shouldn’t even think in terms of at least. Not at least. Dok had said she was their miracle patient. Golden blood. She had no idea she had such a rare blood type. She’d never heard of such a thing as Rhnull. When Dok made her rounds this morning, she asked her, “Do you think this rare blood type is why I’ve had trouble getting pregnant?”
Dok chewed her lip, eyes troubled. “I don’t know enough about Rhnull to answer that, Izzy. It could be the reason. I just don’t know. But here’s what I do know. You have one less fallopian tube now, and that means the chance to successfully conceive is even more difficult.”
“But not impossible?” Izzy asked softly, not meeting Dok’s eyes.
She paused. “Miracles do happen.”
“Yes they do.” Just look at me, Izzy thought. Just look at me.
Luke came to the hospital later that afternoon. Izzy’s heart rose to see him at the doorjamb, but the lift she felt was quickly dampened by the look on his face. “What’s wrong? Katy Ann is fine, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she’s home with Fern.” He came in and took her hands. “Nothing’s wrong, honey. It’s just that . . . something was revealed because of your . . . rare blood type. Something very unexpected.”
Izzy’s mind started to reel. “What are you saying? Am I sick?” Dok would have told her, wouldn’t she?
“No, nothing like that. You’re fine. In fact, you’re . . . golden.” He gave her a weak smile. Bad joke. “This blood type you have is rare. Really rare. Incredibly rare.”
“I know. Dok told me.”
“So rare that only fifty known people in the world have golden blood.”
She nodded. “That’s just what Dok said.”
“They don’t know much about this blood—”
“Luke, just say it. You’re making me nervous.”
“I’m trying. This isn’t easy to say.” He took in a deep breath. “What they do know is that it runs in families.”
“Grace? Jenny? Chris? Do they have it?”
She was getting more confused. Then it dawned on her. “Wait just a minute. You mean . . . my father?”
Luke nodded slowly.
“I don’t understand. Are you saying that you found him? Had you been looking for him?” Her heart started pounding. Luke had been the one to find her mother. Had he tracked down her father too?
“Well, let’s say we found each other. Because of your need for golden blood.” He went to the door and opened it. Standing at the door was her mother, Grace, wary, as usual. Next to her was the fire chief, Juan Miranda, with a sheepish, nervous look on his face.
“Izzy,” Luke said, “meet your father.”
Luke rubbed the back of his neck. He’d been leaning against the wall so that Grace and Juan could sit in the chairs next to Izzy’s bed. It was a surreal moment, watching his wife connect with both her parents for the very first time. How could anyone not believe that God answered impossible prayers? What Luke was witnessing right now was a miracle.
He’d always thought there were some resemblances between Izzy and Grace, especially certain mannerisms, but seeing Juan and Izzy side by side, the resemblances between father and daughter were uncanny. They looked alike, both tall with straight shoulders. Thick, dark, wavy hair, olive skin, dark almond eyes. They even gestured their hands in a similar way. But there was something even more that wove them together, and Luke had only realized it because he’d gotten to know Juan Miranda through this Baby Box Project. They both shared a quiet reserve, keeping themselves at a distance from others, almost imperceptibly.
Juan was amazing under pressure, Luke thought, though that shouldn’t surprise him. He was a fire chief, after all. Luke listened carefully to Juan’s explanation that he had never known he had a child. Yet he said it without blaming Grace for deceiving him or cheating him. If Luke were in his shoes, he’d feel angry. Deceived and cheated, both.
“Had I known, Izzy,” Juan said, “I would have done right by you. I’d always wanted a little girl.”
But Izzy wasn’t ready to let her mother off the hook. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
Grace looked away. “He was married. So was I.” She rose and walked to the window. “Plus, to be brutally honest—because my counselor is always yapping at me to tell the truth—I thought I’d just have it taken care of. I didn’t think there was any reason to tell him about it.”
It. Grace was talking about Izzy. As an it. Not as a beautiful, lovely woman, who was now a beloved wife and a mother, who had a depth of faith that inspired him, and who made the world a better place in so many ways.
“I had an appointment scheduled at the abortion clinic.” Then she swung around. “On the way there, I was at the bus station, looking for the right bus to take to get to the clinic. Right on the sidewalk at the bus station was a little girl, playing hopscotch. Right there on the sidewalk. She had thick dark brown hair and big almond brown eyes, and as I walked past her, she stopped me and asked me to play hopscotch with her. I looked around and there was no adult around, anywhere. No mama, no babysitter. Just this beautiful little girl, all alone. ‘What’s your name, honey?’ I said to her.
“The girl smiled at me. ‘You know me, Mama. I’m Isabella. Your little girl.’”
Grace clutched her elbows, as if her stomach hurt. She turned to look at Izzy. “I felt . . . stricken. Gobsmacked. I could hardly breathe. I got on the next bus and took it, not even caring where it was going. It ended up being the express bus to Ohio.”
Silence fell over the room. Luke and Izzy exchanged a look of shock.
“Mama, was that girl . . .”
“You. Izzy, she was you. A dead ringer.” Grace shrugged. “I can’t explain it. I don’t know if that little girl was an angel, or my imagination running wild, or pregnancy hormones, or what.”
Luke couldn’t help but interject here. “‘Thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them. How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God!’”
Grace looked at him, baffled. “Something like that. I guess.”
“It’s from Psalm 139. Grace, in that moment, that baby you were carrying was no longer an it to you. No longer just a growing mass of reproductive cells. She was a little girl, with a personality, and a beautiful face, and a future to live. ‘Fearfully and wonderfully made.’” He looked at Juan. “That’s what we’re trying to do at the fire station. To help women like Grace. To save these precious babies.”
“I get it,” Juan said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I get it.”
They talked awhile longer and shed a few more tears, until Luke could see that Izzy was wearing out. “We should let Izzy rest. There will be plenty of time later to talk.”
“Will there be?” Juan said, eyes fixed on Izzy. Tears brightened his eyes and his stern chin trembled. “I’ve already missed so much. Is it too late?”
“It’s never too late.” Izzy reached out and covered his hand with hers. “There’s time enough.”
Luke knew this moment was a significant step for Izzy, as she was slow to trust—men in particular—and always reluctant to show affection. He hoped Juan realized what a gift he’d been given.
Luke smiled. From the tender look on the man’s craggy face—a sweet mélange of gratitude and relief and joy and love—Juan knew.