by Leslie Gould
“Can I go home tonight?” Dat asked.
“We’ll see how you do in the next few hours,” the doctor replied.
It turned out he was also dehydrated, so the nurse hooked up an IV and also gave Dat a large glass of water with a lid on it. When asked if he was hungry, Dat said he’d eat if it meant he could go home. The nurse laughed and brought him a tray with a bowl of soup, a small salad, and a slice of bread. Thankfully, he ate.
He appeared so vulnerable in the hospital gown. His belly was still round, but his arms and legs were thin. He looked downright fragile. Why hadn’t she noticed?
Could his heart be failing him? Had it broken, literally, when Mamm died?
It wasn’t until one in the morning that the nurse came in and said the doctor cleared Dat to go home. As the nurse removed the various cords and sensors from Dat, she said to Noelle, “You’re a good daughter. You’ve done a good job caring for your father tonight.”
A lump filled Noelle’s throat, so she simply smiled at the woman.
The nurse smiled back. “You’ll soon be on your way.”
“May I use a phone to call a taxi?” Noelle asked.
“Certainly.” She nodded toward the door. “But there’s a couple of people out here who say they’d like to give you a ride.” She pulled back the curtain, revealing Holly and Carlos.
Noelle gasped. “What are you doing here?”
Carlos called out, “Hello, Mr. Schrock.”
And then Holly answered Noelle’s question. “Steve called me after Salome phoned him. He thought I’d want to know,” Holly said. “We’ve been out in the waiting room.”
“All this time?”
She shook her head. “Just for the last couple of hours, after we got our chocolate boxed up. We figured it might take a while here.”
“I’ll go warm up the truck,” Carlos said. “And come around to the exit.”
Noelle thanked him. After the nurse gave Noelle a stack of paperwork, got Dat’s coat on him, and transferred him to a wheelchair, they all started toward the hall. Holly grabbed Dat’s cane from Noelle and walked with it, leaning against it dramatically.
Noelle couldn’t help but smile. For being “twins” they were as different as could be.
Dat dozed on the way home, in the passenger seat, as Carlos drove and Holly and Noelle sat in the back seat. Big fluffy snowflakes began to fall, melting as soon as they hit the windshield.
“You two will be so tired tomorrow,” Noelle said.
“You too.”
Noelle shook her head. “I’m not going. I’m staying home with Dat.”
“So Salome’s going?”
“No. Our booth will be empty.”
“But it’s going to be busy tomorrow. I hate to have you miss out on the big bucks.” Holly scrunched her nose. “Give me a crate of your product. I’ll sell what I can.”
“I didn’t get a chance to make more of the whoopie pies.”
“Of course not. But give me pies. I’ll sell those.”
As Noelle thanked her, tears stung her eyes. Holly and Carlos had both been good friends to her. Sharing the Advent calendar. Giving her rides home from the market. Helping with ideas for how to sell more product. Sticking around the hospital until the early morning hours to give her and Dat a ride. Being willing to sell pies for her. She turned her head toward the fields, embarrassed by her emotions.
When they reached the house, Carlos held firmly on to one of Dat’s arms while Noelle held on to the other. The first layer of snow was slick, and Noelle held her breath as they propelled Dat to the house. Holly went ahead and opened the door, which Noelle had forgotten to lock.
All three of them got Dat down to his room. He insisted he could change into his pajamas by himself, but Carlos waited at the door in case he got light-headed.
Noelle hurried to the kitchen and filled a box with pies from the refrigerator. “Ten dollars each,” she said.
Holly shook her head. “Fifteen. You’re not charging enough. I know how long it takes to make one of these things.”
Noelle shook her head. “It doesn’t take that long.”
Holly laughed. “Not for you, but for a normal person it would. You have to think about what you’re saving people—not what you put into it.”
Noelle had never thought of setting prices that way before.
Carlos came down the hall and said Dat was in bed. Noelle thanked both of her friends and walked them to the front door, thanking Holly again for taking the pies. She was still flabbergasted at their care and generosity. She would expect it from someone in the family, which hadn’t happened tonight, but not from near strangers. Except Holly and Carlos didn’t feel like strangers.
By the time she checked on Dat, he was asleep. She sat down at the end of his bed and stared at him by the light of his battery-operated lamp. It was much safer for an elderly person than a kerosene one.
What would happen to her if something happened to him? There was no room for her to live with Salome and Ted, especially not with Moriah living there. Paul and LuAnne would let her live with them, but she didn’t want that. It would be out of the question for her to stay in the new house. Salome and Ted would rent it out.
Noelle had been so brokenhearted when her Mamm had died that she hadn’t even considered that Dat might too. Jah, she knew he’d die someday. But hopefully later rather than sooner.
Why couldn’t Salome understand how important it was to have Family Christmas this year? Jah, Mamm had passed on, but Dat still needed all of them. And so did she.
CHAPTER FIVE
Several times during the short night, Noelle checked on Dat, shining her flashlight over him to make sure he was breathing. He was. Finally, at a quarter after seven, the first light seeped through her window, and she arose to another snowy landscape. On most days she would have already been up for a couple of hours with a fire roaring in the woodstove. Instead, a chill hung throughout the house.
After she’d checked on Dat—who was still sleeping peacefully—she stoked the fire. Then she opened her Advent window from the day before and popped the candy in her mouth. If it were up to her, the chocolate would be her breakfast, but hopefully Dat would feel like eating. She read the reference for the verse. Psalm 5:11. She looked it up in her Bible. But let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice: let them ever shout for joy, because thou defendest them: let them also that love thy name be joyful in thee.
Rejoice. Shout for joy. Love thy name. It had been a long time since she’d felt any of those things. With Dat’s health scare, she was both rejoicing for his life—and fearful of the future. She said a short prayer, asking for God’s healing for Dat.
She waited to start breakfast until Dat finally woke just before ten. He’d never slept that late. Dat didn’t have much of an appetite either, and he only picked at his dippy eggs. After breakfast, he settled down in his chair. Noelle spent most of the rest of the day experimenting with making mini items. More whoopie pies—mint chocolate chip, peanut butter, marshmallow, and raspberry. Creamsticks. Half-moon pies—cherry, apple, and blackberry. And chocolate. Englischers seemed to like chocolate, more than Noelle had realized.
In the early afternoon, LuAnne stopped by with a chicken and broccoli casserole.
She called out a hello to Dat and then followed Noelle into the kitchen. “Moriah came over this morning and said you took Dawdi to the hospital last night.”
Noelle nodded. “He’s doing better. I need to make an appointment with a cardiologist though.”
As LuAnne put the casserole on the counter, she asked, “Ooh, what all are you baking?”
Noelle explained that she was making smaller items to sell at the Christmas Market. She grabbed a plate and filled it with some mini whoopie pies, creamsticks, and moon pies. She wrapped a towel over the top and handed it to LuAnne.
“Denki. Paul will be thrilled. The kids too.” She grinned. “And I already am.” Then her expression grew more serious. “It’s a grea
t idea,” she said. “I think they’ll sell really well.”
Noelle brushed her hands on her apron. “I hope so.”
About an hour after LuAnne left, Salome stopped by. She hovered over Dat for a couple of minutes and was soon satisfied that he was doing better. She joined Noelle in the kitchen.
“LuAnne said you’re making new products.”
Noelle pointed to a box of peanut butter–filled whoopie pies. “Jah. Aren’t they cute?”
Salome rolled her eyes.
“I sold these on Friday—twelve boxes were gone by noon. They were a big hit.”
Salome put her hands into the pockets of her coat, which she hadn’t bothered to take off. She must not be planning to stay long. “Sales have been down.”
Noelle’s face warmed. “I think I can get them back up by selling the new items.”
Salome shook her head. “We’ve had a plan—Mamm’s plan—and it’s worked for years. Maybe it’s your selling that has sales down, not the products.”
Noelle was sure her face was bright red by now. She turned away from her sister and pulled another sheet of mini whoopie pie cookies from the oven.
“They look like those little French things,” Salome said. “Macarons.” She imitated a French accent. Noelle had no idea what she was talking about.
“Stick with what we do best,” Salome insisted.
“Do you plan to go to the market next week?”
Salome shook her head. “My chiropractor told me to take another week off.”
“What about Moriah?”
“She . . .” Salome wrinkled her nose. “Has plans.”
“Someone needs to stay with Dat, then, while I’m at the market,” Noelle said.
“Really?” Salome turned toward him.
“He’s at risk for falling,” Noelle explained. “He didn’t eat or drink enough yesterday, and the ER doc told him to see a cardiologist.”
“That sounds kind of serious.” Salome raised her eyebrows. “Maybe he can go over to LuAnne and Paul’s while you’re at the market. That would be good for Dat—and the kids too.”
Noelle pursed her lips to keep herself from saying anything, but she thought a full day over at LuAnne’s would wear him out. “Or maybe you, Ted, and Moriah could take turns with Dat here.”
Salome sighed. “I’ll let you know.”
Noelle heated the casserole for supper. As she pulled it out of the oven, a knock fell on the door, meaning it wasn’t Salome or Moriah. They’d both walk right in.
She opened it to see Holly’s smiling face, holding up a wad of money and an empty crate. “I sold all of your pies.”
Noelle ushered her into the house. “Denki.”
“And for fifteen dollars apiece.”
Noelle took the money. “Wow.” Holly was a good salesperson, just like Salome.
Holly held up a paper bag. “I also brought you something else. Smaller boxes for your mini whoopie pies. I figure you can sell a half dozen for ten dollars.”
Noelle didn’t think so, but she was interested in the boxes. She took the bag and pulled a box out. It was a fourth the size of the pie boxes.
“Is that your friend?” Dat called out.
“Jah, Dat. It’s Holly.”
“Invite her to eat with us.”
Noelle glanced at Holly. “Would you?”
“Carlos is out in the truck.”
Dat was standing now. “Ask him too.”
Holly gave Noelle a questioning look.
“Jah, we’d really like that,” Noelle said. “We have plenty.”
Both Carlos and Holly yawned several times during supper, and Noelle thought again of them going to the hospital the night before and then working a full day at the market. After they ate the casserole, homemade bread, green beans, and applesauce, Noelle served blackberry half-moon pies.
Holly raved over hers. “You’re selling these too. Right?”
Noelle shrugged. She hadn’t necessarily planned to sell all of the mini items. She wasn’t sure at all if she could stand up to Salome and branch out in a new direction. It wasn’t as if she would be selling at the market for long. She’d soon be back to solely doing the baking, putting Salome back in charge.
Why was it so hard to stand up to her sister about both the market and the Family Christmas? Why was it so hard for Noelle to stand up to anyone? She’d been taught her entire life to defer to her older sisters, especially Salome. But it was more than that. She’d been cocooned in the safety of Mamm’s shadow too, to the point she didn’t know what to do when times grew hard.
She felt a wave of helplessness crash over her again, just as she had when Jesse left. When Mamm was sick and then dying. When she couldn’t wake Dat.
As Holly and Carlos put their coats on, Dat spoke up from the table. “Do either of you know of a hall that might be available on Christmas? For our family gathering?”
Holly tapped the side of her face. “Have you tried local churches? I know ours does a dinner for the needy on Christmas, but others might be available.”
“That’s a good idea.” Dat turned toward Noelle. “Could you look into that?”
She nodded.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Jesse said to tell you hello.” She turned toward Dat. “And he wanted you to know that he’s praying for you.”
Dat nodded in gratitude. “I always liked that Jesse.”
Holly gave Noelle a sly smile and whispered, “Will you ever tell me the story behind all of this?”
Carlos elbowed her.
Noelle patted her friend on the shoulder. “If I ever tell the story, you’ll be the first to hear it.”
After she’d closed the door behind her friends, Noelle stood for a moment. The truth was, however, that it was a story that ended long ago. There was nothing more to tell.
The next morning, Noelle climbed out of bed to find big fluffy flakes falling in the darkness, piling upon the snow that already covered the ground. Noelle expected to spend another quiet day with Dat, but he said he was feeling much better. After he led the two of them in the closing prayer after breakfast, he said, “How about if we visit Ben and Barbara this afternoon? He invited us last Sunday. They’re having a group over for coffee in the early afternoon.”
Noelle stood and grabbed their plates. What was Dat doing? Didn’t he know she didn’t want to see Jesse?
On the other hand, it would be good for Dat to get out of the house—as long as he really did feel up to it.
Dat stood and leaned against his cane. “Noelle? What do you think?”
“Let’s see how you feel after dinner.”
He seemed to have even more energy after they finished their noon meal, so Noelle bundled up to go out and harness the horse.
Dat stood at the window. “The plows have been by. We need to take the buggy, not the sleigh.”
Noelle agreed.
An hour later, when they reached Ben and Barbara’s house, Noelle stopped the carriage by the walk to the back door. Ben bounded outside, and Noelle expected him to help Dat up the walkway, but instead he said he’d take care of the horse for her. Grateful, Noelle took Dat’s arm and they made their way to the back door. The cold stung her face as she walked, but she found it invigorating. Although she dreaded who she might find inside the house.
Barbara swung the door open and ushered them inside. Noelle quickly scanned the room. Jesse wasn’t among the group that gathered.
Relieved, she relaxed a little. After a while, the men drifted into the living room while the women stayed in the kitchen, gathered around the table. Several asked how Salome was doing. Only Barbara knew about Dat’s visit to the hospital because, it turned out, Jesse had told them. Noelle shared more about that with all of the women, even though she hated being the center of attention. But it was easier when she was talking about someone else.
A baby’s cry interrupted the conversation.
“Oh, the baby’s awake.” Barbara jumped to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”
Noelle inhaled sharply. Maybe Jesse wasn’t at the house, but his daughter was.
A few minutes later, Barbara returned with the baby in her arms. She headed straight for Noelle. “Would you hold Greta while I heat up a bottle?”
Noelle couldn’t say no as Barbara rolled the baby into her arms. Greta. It was a beautiful name. Immediately Greta began to cry. Noelle had had so much practice with nieces and nephews that she knew exactly what to do. She stepped to the window and began swaying with the baby. Greta just needed to be distracted until she could eat.
Noelle lifted the baby to her shoulder, aware of Greta’s weight against her chest. She felt as if her heart was being crushed and wondered what the other women thought. As she searched their faces, none of them seemed to be aware of the heaviness she felt. Had they all forgotten she and Jesse used to court? Did they assume that she was long over it?
Greta continued to cry, and Noelle patted the baby’s back and swayed back and forth until the crying faded away. A few minutes later, Barbara strode across the room, just as the teakettle started to whistle. She handed Noelle the bottle and then nodded toward the rocking chair. “Would you?”
Noelle took the bottle and made her way to the chair, holding on to the baby with the other hand. As she sat down, Greta started to cry again. Noelle quickly positioned the nipple into Greta’s mouth, and the baby drank voraciously. As she calmed down, her eyes met Noelle’s. The baby’s were still an inky blue. Maybe they’d lighten up like her father’s. Or perhaps her mother had brown eyes and they’d change to that. Greta smiled for a quick moment and then kept sucking.
“You’re a natural.”
Noelle lifted her head. A woman who was new to the district had spoken. Noelle simply smiled at her, but a look of confusion passed over Barbara’s face as she stood at the stove, watching the scene unfold. Perhaps she hadn’t given Noelle the baby on purpose.
