Sacred Trust

Tedi glanced up at her mother as they reached the vestibule. “It’s because Granny Jane wasn’t saved, Mom. Grandma Ivy was concerned for her soul.”

Mercy sucked in her breath in a sigh of irritated frustration. That again. This Christian business was just going too far, and Ivy never wasted a moment in her attempts to try to indoctrinate Tedi into every aspect of it.

As they turned to greet the first of the funeral attendees, Mercy had no time to comment.

This part of the funeral procession was the most trying to Mercy, as it had been five years ago at Dad’s funeral. As with Dad, it looked as if the whole town had shown up to pay their “respects.” Mercy had learned long ago not to trust what people said to your face. At times like this, they were all high on emotionalism. Try them later, when you were fighting for custody of your child and needed a friend, or you lost your practice and needed patients.

She saw Dr. Bower coming toward them, walking beside Lauren McCaffrey. He probably didn’t realize it, but his expressive face showed his discomfort clearly. So why was he here? He didn’t even know Grandma. And he didn’t seem like the politicking type.

He took Mercy’s hand gently. “Again, Dr. Richmond, I’m sorry.” He seemed sincere, his clear blue eyes steady and earnest as he spoke. When he reached Ivy he hesitated.

To Mercy’s surprise, Mom took his hand. “Thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to attend Mother’s funeral.”

If he caught the sarcasm in her voice, he didn’t show it.

Then Jarvis spotted him. “Hello, Dr. Bower. Who’s watching the shop?”

“Dr. Camp agreed to spell me for a couple of hours. Today’s his day off.”

“You might consider going through me next time.”

Jarvis’s tone held no rancor, but Mercy tensed. She would not allow Jarvis to reprimand one of his staff right here at her own grandma’s funeral.

“Sorry, Dr. George,” Dr. Bower said quietly. “I tried to contact you.”

“No harm done. Camp’s a good doc.”

To Mercy’s surprise, Jarvis shook the younger man’s hand and even smiled, though it looked more like a grimace.

Later, as the four of them rode in the limousine to the cemetery, Mercy overheard her mother speaking to Jarvis quietly under cover of the soft gospel music that floated over them.

“What’s up between you and Dr. Bower?” Ivy asked. “You waiting for him to hang himself?”

Jarvis tugged at the collar of his starched white shirt—probably the only starched shirt he had. “He’s too smart for that. Do you know he ranked third in his class when he graduated from Kirksville?”

“You checked his personnel file?”

“Yes, and I called Cunningham today to find out more about the little contretemps Sal mentioned to us yesterday. I have an old friend who works there. Nurse. Great gal.”

“And she told you about Dr. Bower?” Ivy asked.

“She told me what she knew, which wasn’t much, except that about the rank, and the fact that Bower never dated, had very little social life at all, and spent most of his spare time—which was rare—at the hospital working and learning. She liked him. I mean, she really liked him.”

Mercy suppressed a smile at the hint of frustration in Jarvis’s voice. Ivy’s brows rose in surprise. “So isn’t that good news?”

“Of course it is,” he said just a little too brightly.

“Are you still going to check him out?”

“June will call me when she has more info. She said something about a lawsuit, but no explanation.” Jarvis reached over and patted Ivy’s hand. “We’ll get this thing figured out.”

“Mom?” Tedi said softly, just loud enough for Mercy to hear.

Mercy leaned sideways and put an arm over her daughter’s shoulders. “Yeah?”

“How’s…the practice going?”

“Great, honey. Just great.”

“You still doing some E.R. shifts to fill in on your days off?”

“Some. Not as many since the new full-time doctor joined us.”

“Oh.” Tedi frowned and glanced out the window for a moment.

Mercy watched her daughter, whose dark eyes were even darker than usual. Mercy hadn’t forgotten the slammed car door and the squeal of tires on blacktop when Theo dropped Tedi off at the church before the funeral.

“Everything okay at home?” Mercy asked.

Tedi grimaced, still looking out the window.

Mercy repressed the urge to demand what that puny excuse for a father had been doing to make Tedi so unhappy. Just watching her daughter made her want to choke Theodore.

“So I guess you’re pretty busy,” Tedi said at last.

Mercy quirked a brow at her. “Busy? Do you have something in mind? You know I’m never too busy for you, Theadra Zimmerman.”

Tedi made a face at the sound of her full name. “Oh, I don’t know…maybe we could go to Springfield some weekend. You know, like to the zoo and to a movie or something.”

“Sounds great. And maybe we could go to Bass Pro Shop and eat at Hemingway’s.”

“Yeah, and hike at the nature center and watch the deer and squirrels and birds eat. And maybe we could even take a whole week and drive down to the Boston Mountains in Arkansas.”

“We could camp out,” Mercy said, playing the little game they had always played, with their dreams and wishes getting bigger and bigger and more unreachable. “And maybe we could take a whole month and go to the Grand Canyon.” She had forgotten how heartbreaking this little game could become as she named the things she most wanted to do with her daughter.

“And no one could find us, except we would know where we were,” Tedi added. “And maybe you could set up practice in Arizona, and we could call Grandma, and she could come and join us, but no one else would know.”

“Maybe we could, honey.” Mercy leaned closer and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “First we’ll concentrate on getting to Springfield. Do you want to talk about it?”

Tedi turned and looked seriously into Mercy’s eyes. The all-too-grown-up expression made Mercy’s throat choke with tears.

“Would you, Mom? Would you do it for me?”

Mercy’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with the person I love more than anyone on earth?”

Tedi shrugged. “I don’t know…I guess I thought you might be too busy.”

“Where did you get that—” Mercy paused, and a flash of fresh anger accosted her. She reached out and touched her daughter’s shining dark brown hair. “Tedi, don’t ever let anyone tell you that I don’t have time for you or that I don’t love you.” The anger grew. The day’s grief and the past weeks of struggle with Grandma’s cancer had taken their toll. Mercy struggled for a moment with tears; then she gave up and let them fall.