Unanswered Prayers. Penny Richards

and Howard circled her shoulders with his arm, leaning his cheek against her hair. “How’s Margaret?”

      “Honestly?”

      “Honestly.”

      “I’m worried about her.”

      “So am I,” he confessed.

      “It’s almost as if she blames God for what’s happened instead of Rick.”

      “I know,” Howard said. “I heard.”

      Eva drew back and looked into Howard’s beloved face. Tears glistened in her eyes as she whispered, “I have the strangest feeling of déjà vu, Howard. Like history is repeating itself.”

      Howard nodded, his eyes mirroring the pain he felt at knowing that Maggie’s circumstances had resurrected old sorrows, old heartaches for Eva.

      “That could be me in there,” she said, her voice breaking. “It is me…in a way. It would take a fool not to see how similar her situation is to mine back before we got married.”

      “I know.”

      Neither spoke for long moments. Eva was the first to break the silence. “We’ve got to tell her, Howard. She’s in so much pain.”

      Though he’d suspected as much, Howard’s eyes filled with alarm. “Evie…We promised we’d never tell.”

      “I have to!” Eva cried in a soft, desperate voice. “Didn’t you hear her say how she felt in limbo after Greg died…as if she was waiting for something and didn’t know what it was? I know exactly how she feels. I was going through the same thing the day you came knocking on my door.” In spite of her pain, a tremulous smile curved her lips. “It took me a long time to realize that what I was waiting for was you.”

      Howard’s fingertips caressed her cheek with infinite tenderness. Eva took his hand in both of hers. Their fingers meshed tightly.

      “Don’t you see, Howard? I have to tell Maggie not to give up and not to lose faith. Telling her about me—about us—will help her to understand that despite what’s happened to Rio, something wonderful might be just around the corner.”

      Howard’s troubled eyes clung to his wife’s. “It might change how she feels about us.”

      “It might,” she agreed. “But I’m willing to take that chance. If it helps her get through this, and strengthens her faith, it’ll be worth the risk.”

      Howard shook his head and gave her a wry smile. “If you want to convince her not to give up, can’t you just tell her the story of Job?”

      In spite of the seriousness of the situation, a glimmer of humor twinkled in Eva’s eyes. “I don’t think it would be the same, honey.”

      He carried her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. His eyes were troubled. “I just don’t want you to be hurt. God knows you’ve had enough hurt to last a lifetime.”

      “I want to do this, Howard.”

      He closed his eyes. Finally, he spoke. “Sing to me, Evie.”

      “Sing to you?” she asked, stunned by the request.

      He nodded. “Sing ‘It Is Well with My Soul.’“

      “How can you want me to sing when our daughter is in so much pain and Rio is lying in there—” Her voice broke again, and she swallowed hard.

      “I’ve been praying nonstop since Jeremy called. God knows what’s in my heart. Sing. You sing like an angel.”

      Eva smiled around her tears and began to sing about peace like a river and sorrows rolling like sea billows, her clear soprano voice echoing sweetly throughout the room. When she got to the part about all being well with her soul, no matter what came her way, a look of peace came over Howard’s features.

      Eva clung to his hand and prayed with all her heart that it would be so with Maggie.

      When Eva left Howard, she went in search of her daughter. Maggie was walking the hallway, examining the framed pictures on the wall as if they were some sort of costly art. Though she appeared to be engrossed, Eva knew her daughter’s thoughts were far away.

      “Are you all right?” she asked, putting her arm around Maggie’s shoulders. Maggie nodded. “How’s Rio?”

      Maggie turned her tortured gaze to her mother’s. “He’s so pale and still,” she said in a strained voice. “And he won’t answer me when I talk to him.”

      “I imagine the anesthesia still has him out cold.”

      “I guess.”

      Eva sighed. In some ways Maggie’s lifelessness was more disturbing than her earlier anger. Anger could be channeled into something constructive. Passivity left nowhere to go.

      “Maggie,” Eva began, “I’m worried about you.”

      “I’m fine!” Maggie said in a sudden spurt of irritation. “It’s Rio you should be worried about.”

      “I am worried about Rio, but I can’t help worrying about you, too. It isn’t like you to be so negative about everything you’ve been brought up to believe.”

      Maggie looked at Eva, her eyes sparking with renewed anger. “How do you know whether it’s like me or not?” she challenged. “I haven’t been your innocent little Maggie in a long time. Face it, Mama, you don’t know me anymore.”

      The words stung, but Eva was determined not to let on how much. “Maybe I don’t,” she said, “but contrary to the impression you give to others, you aren’t the kind of person who just lies down and lets life run over her. You’re a fighter, Maggie. You always were in your own quiet way. So why are you giving up now?”

      “I’m not!”

      “Well, it looks that way to me. Instead of looking for the best, you’re anticipating the worst. Instead of putting your trust in God, you’re turning your back on him and the strength he can give you.”

      “I haven’t seen much of his loving care lately,” Maggie said.

      Eva thought of the happiness Maggie and Rio had shared the past few months, of Rio’s slow but steady success in getting his business going. Maggie’s success in her work and the community’s gradual acceptance of Rio. How could she not believe in God’s loving care when her life was a walking testimony to his love?

      Eva’s patience with her daughter snapped. “Oh, stop wallowing in self-pity, Margaret! You’re behaving as if you’re the only one in the world with a tragedy in her life.”

      Maggie looked as if Eva had slapped her. Memories of their many battles during Maggie’s high school days rushed through Eva’s mind. As much as she loved her only daughter, they’d butted heads often in the past.

      “What’s the old Indian saying about not judging a man until you’ve walked a mile in his moccasins?” Maggie said sarcastically. “It’s easy to be holier-than-thou when you have a nice cushy lifestyle, a wonderful husband who’s crazy about you and two healthy children who never gave you a moment’s worry. You’ve never lost a man you love, so don’t come preaching to me when you don’t have the slightest idea what I’m going through.”

      At the end of her speech and her temper, Maggie turned away, intent on leaving. Eva grabbed her daughter’s arm in a tight grip. Maggie glared at her, her eyes bright with tears and fury.

      “I do know what you’re going through,” Eva said.

      “Oh, really?” Maggie’s face wore a look of patent disbelief.

      “Really.”

      “Did you and Daddy have a few little spats those early years, is that it?”

      Eva’s lips tightened. “Sit down, Margaret,” she commanded