“Leah, hello.”
Once Leah had been asked to be a guest speaker for one of the birthing classes and she’d talked briefly about labor and delivery and answered an hour or more of questions. As luck would have it, the tour guide was Jo Ann Rossini who’d been the instructor for the class Leah had visited. Jo Ann walked into the room with ten or more women, all in varying stages of pregnancy.
“Ladies, this is the nurse I mentioned earlier. I sincerely hope one of you is lucky enough to go into labor during Leah’s shift. Leah Lundberg is one of the most wonderful labor coaches you’re likely to meet.”
Leah appreciated Jo Ann’s kind words, but she was eager to escape.
“I’ll be out of your way in just a moment,” Leah said, bundling up the sheets and stuffing them in the laundry basket.
“There’s no need to hurry. You’d probably do a much better job of giving a tour around the labor room than me,” Jo Ann insisted.
“Leah’s shift was over a half hour ago,” Bonnie said, coming in. Leah was so grateful she could have kissed her fellow nurse, not that staying beyond when they were scheduled was anything out of the ordinary. It was part and parcel of her job, which, despite everything, Leah loved.
“Would you mind if we asked you a couple of questions?” A timid voice rose from the back of the group. The girl didn’t look to be any more than eighteen, with eyes the size of poker chips. Her hand rested on her protruding stomach, which she rubbed as if to reassure her unborn child.
“I’ve only got a few moments.”
“My mother said only a woman who’s been through labor and birth can fully appreciate what it’s like for another woman,” one of the other mothers-to-be added loudly. She was large and brusque and looked as if she wanted to punish her husband for getting her into this predicament. “Don’t you think that’s true?” she added on a brash note.
“Ah . . .” This definitely wasn’t an area Leah wanted to address. “A doctor doesn’t have to experience a festering cut to know how to treat one,” she said, making sure no emotion bled into the words.
“How long can we expect the labor to last?” came another question. This one was less intrusive.
“It’s different with every woman, as individual as we each are. I’ve seen women who suffer little more than a few twinges of pain, and others who feel like they’re giving birth to a grand piano. Labor can last anywhere from a few minutes to days.”
“That long?” It was the same timid voice that had spoken earlier.
“Just remember the vast majority are within the normal range.”
“Thank you, Leah,” Jo Ann said, stepping forward. “We appreciate your taking the time for this. I know you’re on your way home so we won’t keep you any longer. Remember Leah,” Jo Ann said, speaking to her class. “Because once you’ve had her with you during labor you aren’t likely to ever forget her.”
“One last question.” The same brassy woman who’d spoken earlier did so again. “Tell us how many children you’ve had yourself.”
Leah looked at the other woman, her gaze connecting with hers. “None,” she said, then turned and walked out of the room. Her steps gained speed as she hurried down the hallway, tears blurring her eyes.
“Bremerton,” Shirley said, joining Mercy on the deserted flight deck of the aircraft carrier Nimitz. Bright stars dappled the crisp December night like beacons from home. “Why in the name of heaven did you decide we should meet here?”
“I like ships, especially navy ones.”
Goodness shared a meaningful look with Shirley. “You haven’t done anything, have you?”
Mercy’s eyes widened as if she were offended by the suggestion. “Good grief, I know better than to move ships around.”
“Gabriel wouldn’t ignore that,” Shirley said, folding her arms and glancing approvingly toward Mercy as if to say she appreciated the maturity Mercy revealed.
“Gabriel, nothing,” Mercy said, “I don’t plan on tangling with the U.S. Navy. They can be real sticklers about that sort of thing, although it would be fun just once to—”
“Mercy!” both Goodness and Shirley cried simultaneously.
“Come on, you guys, don’t you know a joke when you hear one?” The petite angel drifted effortlessly upward, resting on the bridge.
Goodness wasn’t sure of anything these earth days. Humans had frustrated her in the past, but she’d never had to deal with one as obstinate and foolish as Monica Fischer. There was a soft spot in her heart for preachers’ children. Goodness was convinced Gabriel was aware of her feelings and that was what had prompted him to give her this particular assignment.
“I don’t mean to change the subject, but are those submarines over there?” Shirley asked. She was dangling from the top of the communication tower and pointed to a series of seven fast-attack black boats docked in the murky, moonless waters at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard. “I don’t believe I’ll ever understand how the human mind works. Imagine designing a boat that’s supposed to sink.”
“Can we get back to the matters at hand?” Mercy asked. “I don’t mind telling you I’m at my wit’s end when it comes to helping Leah and Andrew.”
“You!” Goodness cried.
Shirley cleared her throat. “To be honest, I should tell you matters aren’t going all that well for me either.”