Angel of Hope Page 2

  “Peace offering,” Heather said with a quick smile. She set the cookie sheet on the marble-topped island in the center of the kitchen. “I was rude and nasty to you yesterday, so I thought I’d bake my way back into your good graces.”

  Amber fished a piping hot cookie from the sheet and blew on it. “Good choice. You know I can’t resist anything chocolate.” She bit into the cookie, savoring the rich, buttery taste as much as Heather’s apology. “But you didn’t have to bake me cookies. Although I’m glad you did. I was all set to tell you I was sorry too. And I am, Heather. I didn’t mean to sound like I don’t care about baby Alice. I do care. But mostly because you care about her. Understand?”

  “Perfectly.” Heather pulled off her oven mitt and gave Amber a hug. She stepped back to the counter and began moving the warm cookies to a plate. “It’s a little like looking at those magazine ads with pictures of hungry children. Sure the photo tugs at your heart, but it’s easy to close a magazine and forget the picture. But when you actually see the baby, when you hold her in your arms, you’ve got a memory. Whenever I shut my eyes, the memory comes calling. Do you know, I can still feel the weight of little Alice just like I was holding her? I can still remember how she looked when she smiled up at me. Her little eyes lit up, and in spite of her birth defect, I knew she was happy. Of course I saw hundreds of needy children, but I truly made a difference for Alice and her sister. I know how important being close to a sister is.”

  Amber nodded, feeling a mixture of sympathy for the baby and shame that she hadn’t grasped the true depth of Heather’s feelings toward her. “I guess I expected you to be the same sister I remembered growing up with instead of the one who came back from Africa.”

  “Well, I’m not the same sister. I’m the one who watched babies die just because they couldn’t get to a doctor in time. I’m the one who saw mothers abandon their children because they couldn’t take care of them. Many people in our country take life for granted. No, worse . . . they think life is a guaranteed right. Of course we have poverty here, but not as overwhelming and widespread.”

  Amber listened, unsure of how she was supposed to respond. She hadn’t experienced what her sister had, but Heather had gone through what Amber now was going through— a dull senior year of high school and apprehension about her future. Amber kept hoping that Heather would remember that she herself had been feeling much the same way this time last year before she took off to Africa. Still, she thought it best not to bring that up now. “I’m glad you’re home,” she ventured. “I missed you. And I’ll try to be more sensitive to the new Heather.”

  “I missed you, too. And I don’t mean to act so serious all the time. Besides, I had a pretty good day. A friend called me, Boyce Callahan. We were on the mission trip together.”

  “You wrote about him in your e-mails. You said he had a thing for your Swedish room-mate, Ingrid.”

  “That’s history,” Heather said with a wave of the spatula. “Ingrid is dating her old boyfriend again, and Boyce is back in class at the University of Alabama. Talking to him today brought back good memories. He was always cracking jokes and making us laugh. And he was nuts about peanut butter. Did I ever tell you that?” Amber shook her head. “He feels a lot like I do—life is tame and dull by comparison after Uganda.”

  “I guess Miami and your old life can never compete again,” Amber mused, feeling a pang of jealously.

  “Probably not.”

  Heather had no idea how much her answer stabbed at Amber’s heart. Amber knew she should feel glad because Heather had found such dedication and zeal in her life, but right now she felt only envy because Heather’s world was so much bigger than hers. And yet there was no way Amber was ever going to sail off to Africa to capture the dreams that had given her sister such a sense of purpose.

  Amber held out a cookie. “I’m hogging these. Don’t you want some? I’ll pour us both some milk.”

  “No, thanks.” Heather wrinkled her nose. “My stomach’s been bothering me.”

  “Too bad. More for me.” Amber scooped up two more cookies and headed to the refrigerator for milk.

  “Plus I’m too excited to eat,” Heather added.

  Amber paused and turned. “What?”

  “Boyce is studying engineering at ’Bama, and he told me he can shave off a semester of school if he participates in a work program. He says he’s already talked to the head of the department and the professor has agreed to endorse Boyce’s plan to the dean.”

  Great . . . one more person with a life, Amber thought. “And the plan is . . .?”

  “He’s returning to Uganda in March.”

  “Good for Boyce. What’s that got to do with you?” Amber asked, suddenly suspicious of Heather’s smug smile.

  “One way or another, I’m going with him.”

  3

  “Heather, you can’t be serious!” Dr. Ted Barlow exclaimed at the dinner table that night after Heather had revealed her plan.

  Dr. Janet Barlow set her fork down on the plate with a clink. “You’re supposed to be choosing a college, not talking about running off to Africa again. It’s time to get on with your life, honey.”

  Amber sat silent, in total agreement with their parents. She’d been in shock ever since Heather had told her about her plan to return to Uganda. She didn’t want Heather to go so far away again. Amber wanted her sister close by, to talk to, to help with her own problems.

  Heather considered her parents thoughtfully. “No disrespect, but I’ll be nineteen in April. Of course I can return if I want to. I know Jodene and Paul will give me a place to stay. And Dr. Gallagher will be ecstatic to have an extra pair of hands helping in the hospital.”

  “That’s what you want to do with your future?” Janet asked. “Work in a Third World hospital? If it’s hospital work you want, your father and I can get you any number of jobs right here in Miami while you attend college.”

  “It’s not about working in a hospital. It’s about working in that hospital—the one in Uganda. This isn’t about me, Mom. It’s about them—the kids in Uganda. Boyce is designing and building an irrigation system on the property belonging to the Children’s Home. Getting water to the back acreage will allow the kids of the village to expand their living quarters fivefold. That means the home can open itself up to even more orphans. They’ll learn to farm and sell their crops and support themselves. I can help with setting up a small clinic for the girls, screen them for serious illness, give immunizations. It’s a wonderful plan, and I want to be a part of it. The sooner I get there, the more I can help.”

  Her parents exchanged glances.

  “Honey,” her mother began, her tone sympathetic, “I know how difficult it is to come down from the high of the kind of adventure you had in Africa. When I first returned from the Peace Corps, the last thing I wanted to do was begin medical school. But your grandfather insisted, and I’m glad he did. I might never have gotten my medical degree if I hadn’t begun classes when I did.”

  “We enrolled in med school together. It offered us another kind of adventure,” her father added with a wink at his wife. “Heather, listen to us. You’re intelligent, and you have so much potential. You can do anything you set your mind to. Don’t waste the opportunities we can give you. Go to college, get a degree. Then, if you still want to return to Africa, go with our blessings.”

  “But I want to go now,” Heather said, shoving her plate to one side, the food hardly touched. “You always told Amber and me that the years you spent in Central America were life-changing. You told us that one day you’d go back and use your surgical skills to help the poor. Well, here it is, years later, and you’ve never gone.”

  “First we wanted to get you girls raised,” her mother said. “We wanted the two of you to have a normal life—go to college, get a leg up in the world—before we ventured off.”

  “Do you know what I think?” Heather didn’t wait for an answer. “I think you’ve gotten too comfortable. You’ve forgot
ten your dreams, your ideals. You’ve sold out.”

  “That’s uncalled for,” Ted said, tossing his napkin on the table. “We’ve worked hard to build our reputations in this community with both our peers and our patients. It’s our hard work that enabled you to run off to Africa in the first place. Remember, you had to raise all your own funds to secure a place on that Mercy Ship. If I recall, I simply wrote a check for your portion. So don’t act as if we’ve somehow abandoned the world’s underprivileged simply because we aren’t packing our bags and heading off to do charity work.”

  “I’ve never acted ungrateful for all that the two of you have done for me,” Heather said quietly. “And I’m not trying to put a guilt trip on either of you. I’m simply reminding you that the two of you are the reason I wanted to go on the trip in the first place. Your stories about your days in the Peace Corps have inspired me all my life. I thought you’d be pleased that I want to follow in your footsteps.”

  Janet reached across the table for Heather’s hand. “Of course we’re pleased, honey. To have a child who’s acting as socially responsible as you do is a point of real pride for your father and me. It’s just that we’re confused about why you don’t enroll at the university as you once talked about doing. One trip to Africa shouldn’t change goals you’ve had all your life.”

  Amber bit her tongue to keep from jumping into the argument. While she didn’t want Heather to wander off to Africa, her sister did have a point. It was her life and she should be able to do what she wanted with it. Amber was almost ready to say something in Heather’s defense when Heather spoke.

  “The trip wasn’t at all what I expected. The things that happened to me last summer changed me and my goals. I met missionaries who were interested in the condition of people’s souls, not just in their physical well-being. They’re giving people a stake in eternity, a hope beyond this life. Maybe I’m not explaining it very well, but I know I’m different than when I left. I see a bigger picture now. A higher good. And that’s the thing I want to reconnect with in Uganda. That’s the main reason I want to go back.”

  “You had a religious experience?” Her father looked incredulous. “Is that what you’re saying? You want to put your life on hold because you felt something spiritual?”

  “Why is that so weird?” Amber could no longer keep quiet. “Maybe Heather’s right. Maybe there’s more to life than making money and telling your kids what they should do with their lives.”

  All eyes turned her way. She squared her jaw.

  “I don’t see you doing anything especially productive, young lady,” her father said. “You’re graduating in June and you haven’t filled out a single college application. Do you think some college is going to take you simply because you wear good clothes? Which, by the way, you spend plenty of my money on.”

  “Heather’s right,” Amber shot back. “You two have sold out. What’s important to you isn’t important to us.”

  “Well, this is just great.” Ted threw up his hands. “Neither one of our daughters wants to take advantage of the things we’ve worked for all our lives to give to them.”

  “Now, Ted, no one said that,” Janet said.

  “I said it.” He shoved his chair away from the table, stood, and looked hard at Heather and Amber. “Tell you what—the two of you come up with a game plan and start paying for it yourselves. Heather, a plane ticket to Africa should cost in the neighborhood of a thousand dollars. Amber, when you graduate, get a job. Since the two of you are so intent on making your own choices for your lives, you can pay your own way.” He walked out of the room.

  Janet sighed and looked at both girls. “Listen, your father’s upset. I’ll talk to him.”

  Heather leaned toward her mother. “You understand, don’t you, Mom? You heard what I was trying to say, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. But I’m not sure I agree. You aren’t qualified in medicine. You aren’t qualified in theology. If feeding people body and soul interests you, go to school and get some training in both fields. Then you’ll be able to contribute something worthwhile.”

  “What about on-the-job training?” Amber interjected. “Isn’t that valuable too?”

  “Amber, your experiences in life don’t weigh nearly as much in my book as your sister’s, so your future plans consist of attending college in the fall. Get used to it. Go to your school counselor and start filling out applications tomorrow.” Janet turned back to Heather. “Your heart’s in the right place. It always has been, but you must honestly evaluate the best way to follow your heart. Your father and I are asking you to explore all your options before making a commitment. That’s all.”

  “I have a better idea, Mom.” Heather leaned forward eagerly. “Come with me. Just for a few months. See for yourself. Chase your dream again—the one that inspired you in the Peace Corps. After we’ve worked in Uganda side by side, if you still can’t see the value in what I want to do, I’ll come home and enroll at the University of Miami. That’s a promise.” She settled back in her chair, her hands held out beseechingly. “What do you say? Will you come with me?”

  “Well, tonight went over like a lead balloon.” It was later in the evening, and Amber was sulking in Heather’s room, still angry about the way her mother had ordered her around. Didn’t she have any say-so in her own life?

  “Dad was pretty mad,” Heather said. Their father had gotten a call from the hospital and had hurried off to stitch up the face of a car accident victim. “I wish I could make him understand my point of view.”

  “How about Mom? She gets it, but she treats both of us like we’re still babies. She’ll never go to Africa. You’re wasting your breath.”

  “She didn’t say no.” Heather lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “All I want her to do is seriously think about coming with me.”

  “You mean you’re still planning to go?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about the money? You know when Dad says something, he means it.”

  “I have a savings account. This trip will clean it out, but so what? That’s what a savings account is for.”

  Amber had no extra money, having recently bought a new stereo system for her car. Now she wished she hadn’t. “I’m broke, so I guess I really will have to go to work,” she said glumly.

  “The other day you told me you might get a job when you graduated instead of going to college. Now you sound as if it’s a prison sentence. What changed?”

  “A job became Dad’s idea,” Amber confessed.

  Heather giggled. “Fickle girl. Listen to your big sister. Go to college. You’ve got no good reason not to. Plus, Dad will pay for it.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to go, it’s just that I’m burned out with school, and the thought of facing four more years of studying books gives me a headache.”

  “Lots of frat parties,” Heather teased.

  “Don’t you know? My life’s one big party,” Amber said glumly. “I feel like I’m standing on the outside looking in on other people’s lives. Like I’m watching a movie where everyone’s busy and having fun except me. All my friends have plans for their lives. I don’t know what I want.”

  “You could come meet me in Africa when school’s out. There’s plenty for you to do over there.”

  “First Mom, then me. Soon you’ll persuade Dad to go and we’ll all be over there building huts and nursing sick kids.”

  “There are worse things than doing good for others, sis. I’m going, and if anyone wants to go with me, they’ll be welcome.” Heather stretched as she lay on the bed. “But right now I’m throwing you out of my room and crashing. My stomach’s killing me and I’m tired to the bone.”

  Amber rose to leave. From the bed Heather added, “But think about what I said about coming to Africa with me. You just might begin the adventure of your life.”

  4

  Saturday night Amber went to a party with Dylan at the home of one of his friends. The luxurious houses faced an inland wat
er-way that cut through sections of Miami Beach. Expensive late-model cars spilled out of the driveway, across the lawn, and down the street. Music roared from poolside speakers, although no one was swimming on the chilly February night, and inside the house cigarette smoke hung like a pale curtain. With his arm possessively around Amber’s waist, Dylan dragged her from group to group of their high-school friends. After an hour she disengaged herself and said she was going to the bathroom. Instead, she went out onto the patio and breathed deeply. The fresh, cool air helped clear her head. She wished she’d never come to the party.

  She couldn’t think about having a good time after the bombshell her mother had dropped that morning. Janet had strolled into the kitchen, where Amber and Heather were having breakfast, and said, “Heather, I’m going to Africa with you.”

  Heather, who was toying with her food, jumped up. “You are? Honest? Why did you change your mind?”

  “Your father and I talked well into the night when he returned from the hospital, and we agreed that anything that was this important to you should be important to us, too. Most people your age are trying to get away from their parents, but you want me with you. I should be flattered instead of telling you no.”

  Heather flew across the kitchen and threw her arms around her mother. “But your practice—you said—”

  “I know what I told you at Christmas, but I’ve made some arrangements over the past few days. Your father will take over some of my cases, and Dr. Liberman will handle the others. None of my patients will lack care. And besides, I won’t get rusty. I intend to perform surgeries while I’m in Uganda. I’ll begin with fixing that little baby’s cleft palate.”

  Heather started crying. Amber sat in stunned silence, feeling as if a door had been slammed in her face and she’d been left standing out in the cold.

  “Mom, this is—is wonderful,” Heather stammered. “I—I’m overwhelmed.”

  “I talked to Ned Chase—you may remember him, he’s a colleague. Anyway, he and his wife, Britta, donate six weeks every year to an organization called FACES. It’s a network of cranial-facial surgeons who donate their time and talents to helping in developing nations. Ned practically burst with enthusiasm when I told him what you wanted me to do. He’s also connected me with the organization, which will help clear away red tape. You know, I can’t simply waltz into Uganda and start operating without special sanction. The FACES group will handle the details for me.”