The Amish Midwife's Hope
Page 8
“Lizzie is eyeing the dessert table,” he explained.
“After two pieces of cake?” Rebecca turned her attention to the little girl. “Lizzie!”
She giggled and bounced in her seat. “I was just looking.”
“I think it’s time to go run off some of that energy,” Samuel said to his dochder.
“You mean sugar?” Rebecca murmured.
He nodded. “Lizzie, go play with Jacob and the other kinner. Rebecca will be here when you come back.”
“Don’t leave,” Lizzie ordered Rebecca.
“I won’t,” Rebecca promised.
“You might be called out again,” Samuel said after Lizzie ran off.
“I should have said I’ll say goodbye if I have to.” She set her fork down on her plate.
Samuel became aware that they were being given some curious glances by the other occupants of the table. He sighed.
“Something wrong?”
“Nee. What could be wrong? It’s a happy day.”
“Not for everyone,” she said quietly. “I found weddings really hard for a while.”
He studied her. “I did, too.” He frowned and wondered if he should say what should have been obvious to her. “I think some people are speculating on the two of us sitting together.”
She stiffened. “I can move if it’s a problem for you.”
“I didn’t say it’s a problem.”
“Nee? Then why mention it?”
He sighed again. “I’m sorry. I just got tired of it back in Indiana. No one should feel pressured to look for another partner before they feel ready.”
“I agree.” She traced a finger on the tablecloth. “I think sometimes others are uncomfortable with our grief. They want us to be happy again.”
“You’re…kinder than I am,” he admitted.
She smiled. “Maybe.”
He laughed. “Well, that put me in my place.”
“I doubt it.” She tilted her head. “You’re safe with me. I’d like to be your freund. Yours and Lizzie’s. Help you both feel comfortable and welcome here.” Schur, she wanted to get married again and hoped to have kinner, but she didn’t want him to think she was chasing after him the way some maedels like Sarah did. As a prospective mann. She lifted her chin. “But you don’t have to be freunds with me if you don’t want.”
“Nee?”
She shook her head. “Abram stopped by and hinted around about me dating. I let him know I wasn’t interested in anyone right now.”
“Everyone wants widows and widowers remarried again.”
Rebecca nodded. “They do. I tell myself they mean well.” She toyed with her cake. “Widows are usually seen as needing to be remarried more than widowers, I think. Because we can’t take care of the farm by ourselves. But personally I think some men find it difficult to be without us women.”
Samuel thought of his somewhat sad attempts at cooking but felt compelled to defend men. “You don’t think men can take care of a house?”
She gave him a bland look. “Has it been easy doing it since you lost your wife?”
“Nee, but not everything is hard.”
“What’s your favorite part of it?”
“Favorite part?”
She nodded. “Cooking? Cleaning? Laundry?”
He winced, remembering the time he’d put colored clothes in with his underwear and ended up with a shade no man wanted to wear. “Who likes to do laundry?” he asked.
“I know some who do. At least they like how the laundry smells after you take it down from the line after it’s dried in the sun. But I’d have to say I’d much rather cook or bake.”
“Lizzie likes to bake cookies. She used to enjoy baking with my mudder. Mamm gave me the recipe for chocolate chip cookies and we make them every week or two. They’re not as gut as Mamm’s but they’re getting there.”
“I’m schur they are. Kinner enjoy anything we do with them.”
Lizzie approached the table and tugged on his sleeve. “Daedi? I think we need to take Jacob home. He’s sitting outside and doesn’t want to play. Says his stomach hurts.”
“Allrecht. Go get him. Tell him I’ll take him home.” He watched her rush off and frowned. “He didn’t eat much. I wonder if he’s coming down with something.”
“Maybe he’s worried about his mudder,” Rebecca said. “Kinner don’t tell you they’re worried. They say their stomach hurts.”
“You think that could be it?”
“It might be.” She started to say more but stopped as Lizzie and Jacob walked up.
“Lizzie says you’re not feeling well,” Samuel said to Jacob quietly.
The boy stared at the floor. “Stomach hurts.”
Samuel touched his shoulder. “Are you worried about your mudder?”
Jacob looked up at him for a long moment. And then his eyes filled. “I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
Guilt stabbed Samuel at the boy’s words. The adults had tried to shield the kinner after Ruth’s death, but there was no way to hide how she’d died.
“She’s going to be fine,” he assured Jacob.
His lips trembled. “You don’t know that. Aenti Ruth—” He broke off.
Samuel turned to Rebecca helplessly, hoping she’d know what to say.
“Jacob, would you like me to go see your mudder?” Rebecca asked the little boy gently.
“Ya. Please? Today?”
“You don’t mind?” Samuel asked her.
She rose. “Of course not. Let’s go.”
“This is the second time you’ve had to leave,” he said as the four of them walked to the front door.
“I absolutely do not mind.”
“If you’re schur. Jacob and I’ll go hitch up the buggies.”
“I can do mine—” she began but Samuel ignored her and took Jacob’s hand.
They made quick work of hitching up the buggies. Lizzie insisted on riding with Rebecca, and he decided to let her. He figured if Jacob wanted to talk to him, he might find it easier if they had some private time.
But Jacob sat silently, staring at his hands folded in his lap.
“I don’t want you to worry about your mudder,” Samuel said. “What happened to your Aenti Ruth hardly ever happens. You know, a lot of bopplin were born back home and none of the mudders ever died having them.”
“Then why did it happen to her? Why did God take her?”
He’d asked himself that a thousand times. Lizzie had been so young when her mudder died. She’d asked for her often in the days after Ruth was gone. Then as time had passed, she had rarely mentioned her. He hoped that meant she was coping, that she was allrecht…
He glanced at Jacob and met his gaze directly. “I don’t know. But I was mad at God for a long time.”
“You were mad at God?” Jacob looked awed.
“Ya.” He stared ahead at the road. “But then I realized that sometimes things happen and we may never know the reason.” He frowned, trying to come up with the right words. “We don’t know why the gut things happen, do we? Like why we have rainbows after it rains sometimes or why all the other miracles in life happen.”
Jacob appeared to think about it. “I guess not.”
Samuel pulled into the drive of Hannah’s home. He patted Jacob’s knee. “Let’s have Rebecca take a look at your mudder and you can ask Rebecca any questions you have, allrecht? I’m schur your mudder doesn’t want you to worry about her.”
Jacob nodded. “Danki, Onkel Samuel.”
Samuel ran his hand over Jacob’s head. “You’re wilkumm.”
He got out of the buggy and watched Rebecca walk up with her bag. She smiled at Jacob when she reached their side. “Go in and tell your mudder I’m here to see her.” She watched Jacob and Lizzie race toward the house, then looked at him questioningly.
“I should have realized he would be worried after what happened to Ruth. Danki for helping me see that.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
Their gazes
locked. He didn’t know how long they might have stood there staring at each other if Lizzie didn’t interrupt them.
“Daedi! Rebecca! Are you coming?” Lizzie called impatiently.
“Ya,” he said, coming to his senses. “Ya, we’re coming.”
Chapter Nine
Rebecca took the road to town and wondered if fall could be any lovelier. The trees that lined the road were aflame with gold, scarlet, and russet leaves. The breeze was crisp but not too chilly, and every now and then she caught a whiff of something spicy in the air.
It was her favorite time of year.
She’d given herself a precious day off to meet a gut friend to have lunch and had started out early to just enjoy the ride.
She passed Hannah’s farm on the way and remembered how relieved Jacob had been the day before when she’d gone to check on his mudder. Hannah was fine—just surprised to have them stop by. She’d invited them in and hugged her sohn when she found out that he’d been worried. While he was at the wedding she’d rested and felt much better. Rebecca had stayed for a cup of tea and then left the family and gone home.
Samuel had thanked her when she left. She wondered now if it had been her imagination that he’d started to say something else and then stopped.
Rebecca waved to Fannie Mae as she passed her stand, which was set up in front of her family’s farm. It featured a rich bounty of big orange pumpkins and multicolored gourds. Her stand was a popular one, for Fannie Mae’s mann raised some of the best produce in Lancaster County and she baked such tasty cinnamon rolls and whoopie pies.
Rebecca’s stomach growled but she didn’t stop to buy one of Fannie Mae’s delicious sweets. She was looking forward to lunch with her friend, Cassie, at a popular restaurant in Paradise. And shopping. She needed yarn for the tiny caps she knitted for the bopplin she delivered. Perhaps a length of fabric for a new dress as well. She hadn’t made one for herself in such a long time. Maybe a deep forest green. Amos always liked her in green. Said it was his favorite color on her.
She frowned. Maybe she shouldn’t still be thinking of what he liked, but it was a habit she’d had for a long time. They’d known each other forever, had gone to schul together, and been friends for years before realizing they loved each other. When a man had been so much a part of your life for so long, been a man you loved and who loved you, it was no wonder you couldn’t forget him. She smiled as she passed the hardware store he always visited while she browsed in the quilt shop. What was it about men? They acted like they couldn’t be seen in a quilt shop. Waneta, the shop owner, had even installed a wooden bench in front so that the men could sit there and wait for their fraas.
Tourists and locals milled around on the sidewalks and went in and out of the shops. Traffic was a little heavy for a weekday, but that was nothing new. She parked the buggy behind the restaurant and went inside. Cassie was notorious for running late, so she ordered a cup of hot tea and scanned the menu while she waited at a table near the window. The restaurant featured Amish food and desserts so it was a popular one with locals and tourists.
Her friend rushed up to the table ten minutes later, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. “Sorry I’m late.” She shed her jacket and took a seat.
“I’m surprised,” Rebecca said dryly.
Cassie just laughed and shook her head. Rebecca grinned. They were so different from one another. Cassie was Englisch with a wild mass of red curls and an outgoing personality. She worked as a real estate secretary in an office in town. They’d met when Rebecca filled in for a friend who taught a knitting class at the quilt shop. Cassie had been new to knitting and taking the class. She and Rebecca had bonded after discovering they were recent widows. They didn’t get to see each other often for these lunch and shopping afternoons so she prized them. The Amish and the Englisch mixed more here than in other Amish communities in the country because of business and tourism, and Rebecca liked how they helped each other out.
Rebecca tilted her head and studied her freund. Cassie was always cheerful and energetic but today there seemed to be an air of suppressed excitement about her.
“I have something to tell you,” Cassie said, her eyes sparkling. She held out her hand and showed off a diamond engagement ring. “Steve and I are getting married!”
“Oh, how wonderful! I’m so happy for you!” She leaned over to admire the ring.
Cassie fairly bubbled as she talked about how the man she’d been seeing had proposed to her recently. “We don’t want to wait. We’re planning a small ceremony before Christmas. Then we can take some time for a honeymoon after the holiday.”
When their server appeared, Cassie took a deep breath and ordered coffee. Then she picked up her menu to study it. “I don’t know why I look,” she confessed, setting it down almost immediately. “I always order the same thing.”
“Me, too.”
After they ordered the fried chicken lunch special with all the trimmings, Cassie put her elbows on the table and leaned forward eagerly. “So catch me up with everything that’s been happening since we last saw each other. Have you been busy?”
“Very. There’s never a dull day in my profession. But from what you’ve told me, your job keeps you busy, too.”
“It surely does, especially since they added two new associates, real go-getters, and they don’t feel they need to hire another assistant.”
“If my community keeps growing, we’ll need another midwife at some point,” Rebecca told her.
Their food arrived and they chatted as they ate. Rebecca teased Cassie when she caught her studying her ring with a bemused expression.
“You seem surprised to be engaged,” Rebecca said.
“I shouldn’t be. It was time. You know Steve and I have been seeing each other for a long time now.”
She nodded. The last time they’d had lunch, Cassie had pulled out her cellphone and shown her a photo of her with a handsome dark-haired man in his late forties. The two had looked so happy.
“I’m so happy for you. He sounds like a nice man.”
“He is.” She took a sip of her water and set the glass down. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
She nodded. “There’s a new man in my community. A widower. His little girl is very sweet. We’re seeing each other but both of us are…taking things slowly.”
“He’d better not wait too long. Someone else could come along and snap you up right under his nose.”
Rebecca laughed. “I doubt that.”
“If he’s a widower, he should know life can be short.”
She sighed. “His wife died in childbirth.”
“Oh my. And here you are a midwife. That must have brought up some memories for him.”
“Exactly.”
Cassie studied her. “Well, there’s no such thing as coincidences. Maybe the two of you met for a reason.”
Their server pushed the dessert cart over to their table. “Did you save room for a slice of pie?”
“Pumpkin pie for me. I’m going all out today,” Cassie announced.
“French silk, please,” Rebecca said. “It’s something I don’t make at home.”
The server left, promising to return with the pie and more coffee.
“Harold? Harold, are you okay?”
Rebecca turned and saw an older man at the next table clutching his chest. A woman was standing over him wringing her hands. Rebecca tossed down her napkin and rushed over to him.
“Sir? Can I help you?” His hands were clutching his chest, not his throat, so she didn’t think he was choking. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Hurts,” he gasped.
“Oh my, Harold, are you having another heart attack?” the woman cried.
“He’s had a heart attack before?”
She nodded.
“Call nine-one-one. He should go to the hospital and be checked out.”
The woman pulled out her cellphone and made the call. Rebecca turned to Cassie.
“Go to the
hostess up front and ask her to see if there is a doctor in the house.”
Cassie rushed off.
Rebecca grasped the man’s wrist and began monitoring his pulse. “I’m a midwife,” she told him.
“I’m…not…having a baby,” he gasped.
She smiled. “You certainly aren’t. But I’m trained to take care of people and I’m happy to do whatever I can to help you until the paramedics get here. For starters, maybe you’d be more comfortable if we undid the top button of your shirt.”
He nodded.
She turned and found Cassie standing right behind her.
“Rebecca, the hostess said there are no doctors here today.”
“Go back and ask her to direct the paramedics when they come, okay?”
“Of course.”
Rebecca glanced over at the woman. She was pale but holding steady. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.” But there were tears in her eyes and her hands were shaking. When Cassie came back, Rebecca would have her sit with the worried woman.
The paramedics showed up a few minutes later. One of them recognized Rebecca and listened to the vitals she’d taken while the other began talking to the man. Rebecca moved out of their way.
“Mrs. Todd here says they’re local,” Cassie said. “So she knows the hospital her husband is being taken to is one of the best in the state.”
“I do,” the woman agreed. “That’s where Harold had his stent put in last year.” She watched him being placed on the gurney, then looked at Rebecca. “Thank you for your help.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“I fell apart for a minute,” the woman confessed. “I can’t believe I needed someone to tell me to call nine-one-one.”
“We’re ready to go, ma’am,” one of the paramedics said.
“We’ll say a prayer for you,” Rebecca told her.
The woman nodded, squeezed her hand, then followed the gurney out of the restaurant.
“Not your usual patient,” Cassie said as they took their seats.
“That’s for sure.”
“Thanks for helping them.”
Rebecca shrugged. “I’m glad I have the training so that I can do what I can. But I’m not an RN, so I know my limitations.”