Andrew

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  “Is it the baby, sweetie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Woohoo, I’ll be right there.”

  It was a sad state of affairs when your driver was more excited than you were about having a baby.

  Mary nearly dropped her phone as another pain tightened around her abdomen. She was supposed to be timing contractions, but all she could do was endure them. She breathed in and out, moving her hand in a circle around the spot that hurt the worst. Benji and Alfie stared at her like she was something interesting and a little frightening on television.

  “She’s sick,” Benji whispered to Alfie.

  “She’s going to throw up,” Alfie whispered back.

  Mary wanted to laugh and cry and scream at the same time. There had been nothing ever like this kind of pain, nothing like this kind of fear, gripping her like an iron hand and squeezing her throat until she couldn’t catch her breath.

  Would the baby be all right? What if he died? What if she died? Would anybody care? Ach, how she wanted the comfort of her mamm’s soothing embrace or even Bitsy’s blunt reassurance right now. The pain in her heart was as unbearable as the pain in her body. Benji and Alfie were dear and so very sweet, but they couldn’t help her.

  She was alone.

  And so afraid.

  Andrew marched from the washroom with the damp shirt in his hands. Aunt Bitsy had managed to turn it shiny white, though why Mary noticed something like that was anybody’s guess. She swiped the moisture from her cheeks so Andrew wouldn’t gloat or lecture her or tell her she’d gotten what she’d deserved. She just wanted him to go away.

  From the looks of it, he wanted the same thing. He didn’t even slow his steps, heading straight for the door and presumably freedom. Or perhaps he was running from danger, not taking any chances that Mary Coblenz could corrupt him in a matter of minutes. “Cum, boys,” he said, opening the door. “Let’s leave Mary in peace.”

  “What about the peanut butter?” Alfie said, as if his mamm might want it back.

  “Leave it.”

  Alfie grinned and made a pretty good try at a wink for Mary. “That means we’ll be back to make power balls.”

  In one swift motion, Andrew tucked Alfie’s shirt under his arm and scooped both jars of peanut butter from the table. He wasn’t planning on coming back. “Let’s go.” He didn’t say it kindly, and both boys ran to his side as if he’d cracked a whip in their direction.

  Mary stiffened in her chair as another pain stole her breath. Please, dear Lord, let them leave so she could writhe in pain without an audience.

  Benji wrapped both hands around Andrew’s fingers and yanked as if he was pulling a drapery cord. “We can’t leave, Andrew. She’s sick.”

  “Ach, nae,” Mary gasped. “Please go. I’m right as rain.”

  Andrew’s gaze snapped in her direction, but he looked away almost as quickly. “She’s fine, and we’re going.”

  It was all Mary could do to keep from moaning in pain. Ten more seconds and she could scream if she wanted to. “Goodbye, Benji and Alfie. We’ll see you soon.” Go away. Go away now.

  Andrew opened the door, but Benji pulled on Andrew’s arm with all his might. “We have to help Mary.” When Andrew resisted, Benji reared back and kicked Andrew in the shins.

  “Ouch, Benji! Stop that. What’s the matter with you?” Another man might have slugged Benji for insolence, but Andrew wouldn’t raise a hand against his bruderen. He wouldn’t raise a hand against anybody. Mary was grateful for that, especially when Benji was just watching out for Mary.

  She wished he wouldn’t.

  Benji let go of Andrew, went to Mary’s chair, and knelt down at her feet. “Mary needs our help.”

  She wouldn’t for the world wound Benji’s tender heart, but she had to get rid of Andrew. With great effort, she leaned forward and forced a smile onto her face. “I love you, Benji, but you need to go.”

  “I can’t, Mary. You’re wonderful sick.”

  “Please go, Benji. Please just go.”

  A single tear rolled down his face and dripped off his chin. “Please don’t make me.”

  Unable to do anything but concentrate on the pain, she laid a hand on Benji’s head. “Okay, Benji. Okay.” Like the doctor had told her, Mary breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth until the pain subsided, trying to ignore the three pairs of eyes staring at her.

  The unbearable tightness faded, and she squeezed her eyes shut as a sigh of relief escaped her lips. If this pain was what she was in for, it might be worth another five years of debt to get an epidural. How had her mater done this six times? At home. How would she be able to do it at all? She wanted to cry, to burst into tears and sob in Bitsy’s kitchen, but Andrew still hadn’t left yet, and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

  She opened her eyes to see Andrew studying her face. The disdainful lines of his mouth had softened slightly. The hard set of his chin looked more like determination than resentment. At that moment, she could have almost believed he cared for her.

  “You’re in labor?” he said.

  Ach, how she wanted him to leave and stop looking at her like that. She knew how he really felt. “I called a driver. She’ll be here very soon.”

  “What does labor mean?” Alfie said, waving his damp shirt back and forth like he was fanning a fire.

  “It means I’m going to have the baby soon. Someone is coming to take me to the hospital.” She faked a lovely smile for Benji. “So you see, there’s no reason for you to stay. I’m going to be fine.”

  Benji didn’t budge. “When Dawdi had a stroke, Mammi Martha sat with him every day in the hospital and held his hand. She said she didn’t want to leave him, even though he didn’t know she was there. She said it’s what you do for someone you love.”

  Mary couldn’t argue with that. Besides, she would have burst into tears if she’d tried to speak.

  Benji went to the fridge and pulled out the milk. “Do you want a drink? It’s gute for the baby.”

  “Nae. I want Andrew to take you home now.”

  Andrew pressed his lips together. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Benji nodded as if he and Andrew had agreed all along. “We’re not leaving you.”

  Alfie hooked arms with his bruder and almost made him drop the milk. “I’m staying too. It will give my shirt more time to dry.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Why wouldn’t Andrew leave? He shouldn’t let his bruderen make him feel guilty. It was obvious he didn’t want to be there, and she didn’t want his pity, didn’t want his contempt, didn’t even want his concern. She hated herself for the thought, but what she really wanted was ammunition—another reason to turn her face from the community. If even true-hearted Andrew couldn’t offer her grace, then there was no hope for anyone else, and after today, she wasn’t about to give them another chance.

  Benji set the milk on the cupboard, obviously still hoping Mary would change her mind about having a drink. “Do you want a sandwich? I know how to make peanut butter and jelly.”

  Alfie nudged Benji in the ribs. “Don’t feed her. I think she’s going to throw up.”

  They all heard tires on gravel. Benji and Alfie jumped on the window seat, nearly stepping on Farrah Fawcett in an effort to see out the window. Farrah Fawcett turned her nose up at the twins, jumped from the window seat, and disappeared into the pantry, completely uninterested in the drama and heartbreak going on in the kitchen.

  “It’s the car,” Alfie said.

  Mary reached out to the boys. “There’s a blue bag by the side of my bed. Could you get it for me?”

  Again the boys raced up the stairs. Mary rose slowly to her feet, and another labor pain immediately seized her. Gasping, she doubled over and pressed her hand into the table for support. Andrew didn’t hesitate to come to her and take her arm. She tried to push him away, but the pain was too great and his grip was firm. “Can you walk?” he said.

  She held up her hand. “Wait until it
passes.”

  She breathed in and out, though she couldn’t see as it helped anything. It didn’t soothe the pain and made her feel a little dizzy. Andrew rubbed his hand up and down her arm, but she refused to take any comfort from him. He was only acting out of obligation. He was no kind of friend.

  The boys were down the stairs before the pain subsided. Alfie shoved the bag in her direction. “Not now,” Andrew said. “Can you take it out to the car for Mary?”

  Alfie was still waving his shirt around like a flag. He’d get that thing dry or put out somebody’s eye trying. “We’ll take it out. Come on, Benji.”

  “I call shotgun,” Benji said, grabbing the bag from Alfie and running out the door.

  Alfie was right behind him. “Mary gets shotgun. Don’t you know anything?”

  The pain finally became bearable. “I’m ready,” Mary said, even though it felt as if that baby was going to fall out at any minute. She hated the thought of depending on Andrew for anything, but she hooked her arm around his elbow. She couldn’t get to the car without him.

  She avoided his gaze as he helped her to the door, unable to bear the resentment that was surely alight in his eyes. She would not, could not think about Andrew or his bruderen or Jerry Zimmerman right now. She couldn’t think about Josh suing for custody or Evelyn wanting Mary’s baby all to herself. She was holding the pieces of herself together with sheer willpower. Right now, she would be strong for the baby, and only the baby.

  They had crossed the threshold and stepped onto the porch when another pain seized her. It wasn’t supposed to be happening this way. Weren’t they supposed to be like ten minutes apart or something? Mary stopped in her very slow tracks and sucked in a breath.

  “Are you okay?” Instead of the bitterness she expected, Mary saw fear in his eyes and anxiety pulling at the lines of his mouth.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  Andrew nudged her hand away and scooped her into his arms in one swift motion. She gasped and instinctively hooked her hands around his neck before remembering that Andrew couldn’t stand the sight of her. Pressing her palms against his chest, she made a weak attempt to get him to put her down. “I’m okay.”

  He ignored her, tightening his strong arms around her and carrying her down the steps. She wanted to resist his warmth, but she had no strength to fight it. Resting her head against his chest, she listened to his ragged breathing and inhaled his heavenly scent of roses and cedar as he carried her to the car. Benji was sitting in the front seat with the car door open. “Benji,” Andrew growled.

  Benji immediately jumped out. “I was just getting it warm.”

  Andrew set her on her feet, and she shakily slid into the car.

  Patti sat behind the wheel in a salmon tank top and yoga pants. “Sorry, sweetie. You caught me right in the middle of a downward dog.”

  Andrew opened the back passenger door. “Climb out, Alfie. You can’t come.”

  Mary leaned against the headrest. Thank Derr Herr Andrew knew enough to keep his bruderen out of it. Mary couldn’t have mustered the energy to tell them no. It would be wonderful awkward at the hospital if she arrived with two eight-year-olds in tow.

  “Aw, why not?” Alfie moaned, but he was already sliding out of the car. He must have known it was a lost cause. “My shirt isn’t dry yet.”

  “Keep waving it around in the sun,” Andrew said. “By the time you get home, it will be dry.”

  Benji’s voice cracked in about a hundred places. “But, Andrew, we can’t leave Mary.”

  Andrew laid a firm hand on Benji’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of her.”

  To Mary’s surprise, Andrew slipped into the back seat in Alfie’s place. “You’re not coming,” Mary said, too distraught to be polite.

  “I won’t leave you.” His voice was as hard as a block of ice and just as cold.

  Mary wanted to weep. She needed her mamm. She needed Bitsy. She’d even settle for Treva Nelson. She didn’t need Andrew’s pity or his duty, but she was tired and spent and she had to save what fight she had in her for the baby.

  Patti glanced doubtfully from Andrew to Mary. “Where’s Bitsy, sugar?”

  “Walmart.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Not so good.”

  “Okay, I’ll speed.” Patti must have decided that it would take too much time to try to make Andrew see reason. She turned the car around and sped down the lane, kicking up dust behind her like a tornado.

  Mary glanced to her left as they crossed the bridge. Alfie and Benji stood where Andrew had left them, Alfie waving his shirt in the air as if giving them a sendoff, Benji wiping at his eyes but never looking away. She would miss those boys something wonderful when she left the community for good.

  Andrew didn’t say a word all the way to the hospital. Mary was hardly more talkative. Patti would occasionally ask her how she was doing, and Mary would try not to sound too desperate. It didn’t help that Andrew was sitting behind her, probably glaring at the back of her head. He shouldn’t have come. He was making everything worse.

  Patti pulled up to the emergency room door. “Andrew,” she said, “go find someone to bring a wheelchair.”

  Mary wanted to protest that she didn’t need an embarrassing wheelchair, but she could feel her stomach tightening in another labor pain. If they got a wheelchair, Andrew wouldn’t feel obligated to carry her.

  Andrew jumped out of the car while Mary started in with her useless breathing. Patti pursed her lips sympathetically and patted Mary’s hand. “What’s Andrew Petersheim doing here?”

  Mary grimaced. “He just happened to be at Bitsy’s when I went into labor.”

  “Try to relax, honey. Tightening up just makes it worse.” Patti squeezed Mary’s hand. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how long has this been going on between you and Andrew?”

  Mary’s heart ached with longing—which was completely ridiculous. This was Andrew Petersheim they were talking about. She was finished with him, and he was definitely finished with her. “Nothing is going on,” she finally said.

  Patti blew a puff of air out from between her lips. “Nothing? Mary, that boy is so in love with you, he’s ready to explode.”

  “He’s not. He told me I betrayed the community.”

  “Well, for goodness’ sakes, Mary, he’s Amish and set in his ways. It takes the patience of Job to deal with Amish people.”

  Mary stared at Patti in disbelief. “You don’t like the Amish?”

  “Of course I like the Amish. I love the Amish. Some days, I wish I was one of you, but you have to admit you’re a stubborn lot, always thinking you’re right and everybody else is wrong. You just have to be patient with Andrew. He’s a gute boy. He’ll come around.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, if you’re going to break his heart, let him down gently. He’s a nice boy. I hate to see him get hurt.”

  Mary sighed. “There’s no chance of that. We used to be friends, but he doesn’t want anything to do with me now.”

  “Okay,” Patti said. “I won’t argue with a woman in labor, but when the time comes, he’ll need a lot of forgiveness. Mark my words.” Andrew arrived with a nurse and a wheelchair. Patti leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. Andrew will take care of you. I’ll run to Walmart and get Bitsy. As soon as I find her, I’ll call you.”

  “My phone is dead.”

  “I’ll call the hospital.”

  The nurse wheeled Mary up to labor and delivery where they immediately put her in a private room. Andrew didn’t say anything, but he didn’t leave her side either. She had to get rid of him. There was no way she was letting him watch her deliver this baby, no way she was letting him pretend to care about her, no way she would be made a fool of. “I don’t want you here, Andrew,” she said harshly. He needed to know that she couldn’t care less about him or what he thought of her. She could show just as much disdain as he could.
<
br />   He hovered near the door to her room, unsure of what to do. “I told Benji I’d make sure you were okay.”

  “Go, Andrew. I know what you think of me, but I will not let my baby feel your contempt.” Mary didn’t even try to stifle the sob that escaped her lips. Let Andrew rejoice that she was finally feeling the full weight of her choices, but let him be smug from a distance. Right now, his self-righteousness was too heavy a burden to carry.

  “Contempt?”

  The nurse handed Mary a gown and whispered softly in her ear. “Do you want that man to leave, because if you do, we can make him leave. It’s the law.”

  “Yes,” Mary said, gasping in relief and pain.

  The nurse drew herself up to her full height of about five feet and marched to the door. “Sir,” she said, “I must ask you to leave. Patients and hospital staff only allowed in this room.” Mary knew that wasn’t entirely true, but at that moment, the nurse was Mary’s favorite person in the world.

  Andrew furrowed his brow, no doubt torn between his promise to his bruderen and his desire to get away from Mary as soon as possible. “Can I wait outside?”

  “The waiting room is out those double doors and down the hall to the left.”

  “Go home, Andrew.” Go and have a happy life. I never want to see you again.

  He looked at Mary as if he cared about her. “If you need anything, have them come and get me. Anything.”

  She didn’t even glance in his direction as he left, but the loneliness nearly choked her. She concentrated on her breathing and let her sorrow wash over her like a summer cloudburst. She’d rather be utterly alone than have Andrew standing there, reminding her of what she’d lost.

  Though she hated to admit it, it was a loss she’d never get over.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Andrew hissed, dropped his hammer on the barn floor, and shook his hand several times to try to ease the pain. He should never work with the wood when he was distracted. He always ended up smashing a fingernail or drawing blood. The problem was that he’d been distracted for a week, and there was no end in sight. If he couldn’t get Mary Coblenz out of his head, it wouldn’t be safe to pick up a power drill ever again.