Page 98 of Steadfast

You told me once that you can’t just lay in bed and expect life to get better.I want you to know you can lay in bed as long as you need.

Love, Oakleigh

Maeve felt her eyes get misty as she finally relented. She reached for the mug and took a sip. Oakleigh’s coffee making skills were truly improving by the day.

June clacked her knitting needles together, unable to stifle the relieved smile that crossed her lips. “We were talking today, and Oakleigh thought you might feel better after a warm shower.”

Maeve had been so unbelievably tired. Despite her injuries, it was her grief that sapped every ounce of energy she had left.

“I’ll pass,” she said. Even the simple ritual of showering felt like a mountain she wasn’t ready to climb.

June set her needles down beside her and rocked to her feet. “I’m going to get the hot water running. It’ll be there when you feel ready.” A moment later, the sound of the shower could be heard. June returned to her spot beside the bed and picked up her knitting.

Maeve watched the steam billow from the bathroom and considered how nice it would be to let the hot water run over her stiff, painful muscles. Taking the first step was the hardest as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

“I’m just so tired, June,” she admitted. The truth came pouring out before she could draw it back in.

“I know you are, hun.” June nodded, her eyes full of concern. “I’ll be waiting out here. You just call if you need me.”

Maeve went to the bathroom and stepped out of the filthy, tattered clothes she had been wearing since the night of the accident. She looked down at her bandaged palms. Tearing thetape off her skin one piece at a time, she examined her cuts, which were now scabbed over.

When she finally stepped into the shower, the steaming hot water rained down on her gnawing injuries. She watched the remnants of the accident bead on her skin and swirl down the drain. Even though she had yearned to be left alone, she suddenly found the silence around her unbearable as it amplified every agonizing memory.

Grappling for composure, she felt herself quickly losing the hard fought battle against it all.

Maeve was too tired to fight anymore.

Steadying herself against the shower wall, she covered her mouth in vain hopes of stifling her cries as her body shook with anguished sobs.

Maeve slipped into the corner and pulled her knees to her chest. Tears dripped through her fingers, mingling with the water that poured over her battered body and weary soul. Her heartache overflowed into a desperate prayer that tumbled from her lips.

“Lord, please, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this on my own.”

She stayed there alone on the shower floor until the hot water eventually ran cold.

When she finally gathered the strength to stand, she found a plush robe waiting for her. Draping it over her shoulders, she tied it around her middle and stepped out of the steamy bathroom into a burst of cool air.

She knew she couldn’t hide her puffy eyes, yet June didn’t mention a word.

Maeve noticed immediately that the sheets on her bed had been changed. She sank into the soft, clean linens while June pulled the blankets tightly around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Maeve sniffled. “For everything.”

“No need to thank me,” June replied, focusing again on her knitting. “We all just want you back on your feet.”

Maeve lay there quietly, listening to June hum a familiar hymn while she clacked her needles.

“That hymn reminds me of Ruth,” she remarked. Her mother-in-law was always the optimist, even in the face of tragedy.

“You know, Ruth was my best friend,” June mentioned, letting a sober smile escape as she was hit with a wave of nostalgia.

“Before she passed, she asked me to keep an eye on you kids.” June paused, getting teary eyed. “I’m not too sure I’ve kept that promise,” she said, shaking her head. “When Abel had his accident, you just seemed so strong, and well, maybe I should have done more to help.”

It was no secret that the light had dimmed in Maeve’s eyes.

She reached over and squeezed June’s hand. She appreciated their friendship over the years beyond what words could ever convey.

Maeve had tried to be like Ruth, who was steady and strong, with unflagging resilience even in a crisis. She thought about how Ruth would have reacted if she had seen her there lying in bed, overcome with sorrow.

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