The next day saw the arrival of Jasna’s parents
and many discussions with the doctors.
Hans Mültmann was a towering man with a personality to match his
commanding stature. With curly dark
hair, glasses, and kind blue eyes, Elianna found him to be a charming
gentleman, very different from Ferdinand.
Mrs. Naomi Mültmann was a frail slip of a woman who looked scarcely
older than Elianna. The poetic, del
Hans
spoke animatedly with the staff about possibly treatments and surgeries for
Jasna. The options looked grim for her,
but there was a specialist in north London del North London that very
afternoon and bring the specialist to Jasna instead. The staff tried to warn him of the necessity
of appointments and reality of schedules.
Mr. Mültmann only scoffed, “Pshaw!”, drew on his coat and hat, and gave
everyone a look that dared them to try to stop him.
This steely determination to acquire the absolute
best for his daughter warmed Elianna’s heart even as it ached for Jasna in her
helpless condition. She thanked God that
the Mültmanns had the means to call on the best help.
Even so, Elianna knew this was no accident. God was still in heaven, doing all that He pleased,
and would not have let this happen without good reason. Elianna thought of her promise to share with
Jasna all she could about the glory and beauty of Christ and thrilled in her
heart to have such an opportunity.
Ferdinand caught this look of grateful pleasure on Elianna’s face and
grimaced in frustration.
“What have you to grin about at a time like
this?” His scowl resembled the lowery skies they’d considered together a few
days previous.
In her seat beside the window, Elianna clasped her
hands in her lap and looked down into them.
Mrs. Mültmann and Jasna were inside the room with the doctor
administering a few more tests, so Ferdinand and Elianna were outside in a quiet
waiting area. The first thing that came
to mind was the verse she’d read over and over in Sylvia’s journal
recently.
“Thy mercy, O Lord, endureth forever… You will not forsake the work of His hands,”
she uttered in a small, gentle voice.
Ferdinand raked his hands through
his hair, shaking his head, as if trying to expel his agitation in any other
way than through words.
“Mercy, you say?” he said, retrieving the silver flask from the inside of his jacket pocket and taking a drink. “You think Jasna deserved this?”
Elianna’s stomach knotted and her chest tightened
under the weight of Ferdinand’s palpable anger and challenge.
“I think we all deserve much worse,” she said
quietly, looking up at Ferdinand standing at the large window only after he
didn’t respond for several moments. It
indeed looked like a dark tempest was churning behind his green eyes and pained
brow.
Without a second thought, Elianna
rose and went to him, putting a small hand on his broad shoulder.
“Are you alright, Ferdinand?” she
asked, in the sweetest dulcet tone he’d ever heard. The loveliness of her pure, deep concern
softened him, and whether it was from the swig of whisky or merely the sound of her
voice, Ferdinand felt the intensity of his anger dispel. He sighed a weary breath. The sincerity in
her gaze shone like springtime sun across an azure sky. Gone was all halting self-consciousness as
she drew near with care. Overwhelmed by
the accident, lack of decent sleep, and her pristine beauty, Ferdinand’s eyes
welled up with tears.
“I have failed, Elianna,” he said in
a voice just above a whisper.
She searched his face, and felt her
own mimic his expression of pain and regret.
“In what?” she asked.
“In looking out for Jasna. In protecting her,” his voice caught and a
tear spilt over onto his cheek.
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