Becoming Bea

by Leslie Gould

  “The most important thing,” Doris said, several times, “is that we get her there unharmed.” She gripped the steering wheel and plowed along, the snow coming down so fast that nearly all that was visible was white.

  Most likely in an attempt to keep Cate’s mind off her contractions, Doris asked what names she and Pete had picked out.

  “We don’t have a girl’s name yet, although we’re considering Esther, after Pete’s Mamm,” she said. “But for a boy we’ve decided on Walter, for sure. After Pete’s Dat.”

  “Nice,” Doris said.

  Molly had told me there was a time Cate didn’t get along very well with her in-laws, but obviously she had worked through it. I admired her for that, along with so many other things.

  By the time we reached the hospital, I felt as if we’d been through the ordeal of a lifetime. I couldn’t imagine how Cate felt. Doris pulled under the overhang over the ER door, behind several other cars, and I ran in to get some help.

  As an aide helped Cate into a wheelchair, Doris apologized to me that she couldn’t stay. “I need to get home before the roads become impassable,” she said. “Stay with Cate. When she delivers, go in with her. She’ll need the support.”

  I nodded, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. It was one thing for me to figure out I truly loved babies and quite another to think of being in the room to support a woman having one.

  It did come to that. The doctor said it was too late to stop the contractions. “You’re seven centimeters dilated,” he said, and then asked, “How many weeks are you?”

  “Thirty-four,” Cate answered.

  “We’ll hope for the best,” he said. “Things should be fine.”

  Cate grabbed my hand and said, “Pray.”

  I did.

  Within an hour Cate was pushing. After three hours of that, the doctor said he was going to call the surgical team in to do a C-section. Just then Pete rushed in, his face and hands red from the cold, wiggling out of his coat, which I grabbed from him.

  “You’re here,” Cate said, tears flooding her face. Another contraction overtook her.

  When it stopped, she turned to the doctor and said, “Wait. Let me keep trying, for a few more minutes at least.”

  “All right,” the doctor said. “A few more minutes.”

  When Cate pushed again, I started to leave.

  “Bea, would you stay?” Cate asked through gritted teeth.

  I did.

  Ten minutes later, little Walter came into the world, screaming his head off as the doctor proclaimed, “It’s a boy!”

  The doctor let out a sigh of relief, and both Cate and Pete cried. I did too.

  Feeling as if it was all too intimate for me to be there, I stepped outside the door, bumping into Bob.

  “You’re here,” I said.

  “Jah,” he said. “Listening in. The baby sounds good.”

  I agreed. “Did you hear the doctor?”

  Bob smiled. “A boy. Walter—right?”

  I nodded.

  “You have a visitor,” Bob said to me.

  “I do?”

  “Jah. He caught a ride with us. One of the Cramer boys saw the ambulance in the ditch and came back to our place to tell Ben.”

  “Ben was at your place?”

  Bob nodded. “In the Dawdi Haus. I asked him to stay, just in case. Nan knew. She was supposed to send him for help, if needed, but she forgot until you were ready to call the ambulance.” He shook his head.

  “Poor Nan,” I said, feeling a little odd that they were hiding Ben from me.

  “Jah, sleep deprivation is taking its toll on all of us.” He yawned. “You did the right thing, Bea. I’m glad Nan forgot about Ben. It probably would have delayed getting Cate to the hospital in the end.”

  Bob yawned again. “Anyway, Ben’s in the waiting room.”

  I was tempted to head the opposite direction, but out of respect for Bob I walked down the hall, stopping at the entrance to the nearly empty room. Ben stood at the far window, watching the snow fall.

  He turned, as if sensing me. “Are you all okay?”

  I nodded and then blurted out, “Cate had her baby. A boy.”

  An expression of pure relief settled on Ben’s face. “Are they all right? Both of them?”

  “I think so,” I said. “The baby was screaming when I left. The doctor was taking care of Cate.”

  Ben’s face reddened a little, and then he said, “Are you hungry? I could buy you a snack. Or some supper.”

  Truth be told, I was starving and I’d forgotten to bring any money with me. It couldn’t hurt to spend a little time with Ben. “Sure,” I answered.

  I went back and told Bob we’d be in the cafeteria if he needed us.

  He smiled. “I won’t need you anytime soon—not until I can find a ride home for you and Ben and me.”

  I imagined he was anxious to get home to Nan and the babies.

  Ben led the way to the elevator, down to the cafeteria, and then through the line. I chose a bowl of vegetable soup and a turkey sandwich. He ordered a hamburger from the grill. After he paid for our food, he led the way to a table by the window, where we could watch the snow coming down.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I said.

  “Jah,” he agreed. “Listen . . . ” I expected him to say my name, but he didn’t. Probably because he didn’t want to get scolded again. “I really am sorry. You put your trust in me, and I hurt you badly—not just once but twice.”

  More than twice, I thought as I put my hand up. “Don’t,” I said. “I’m not up to rehashing everything.”

  He swallowed hard and then said, “Fair enough.”

  Nothing was fair. I knew that. “Let’s just enjoy our meal,” I said.

  When we returned to the waiting room, Bob was at the nurses’ desk, using the phone. He placed his hand over the mouthpiece and said, “Cate wants you two to see the baby. They just got moved down the hall, third room on the left.”

  “Is Walter with them?”

  Bob nodded. “He’s a little guy, but bigger than they anticipated—just over five pounds.” He chuckled. “So about the same size as his aunt and uncles.”

  “How are his lungs?” I asked, knowing that was the big concern.

  “They’re fine. He gets to stay with Cate. No need for the NICU.”

  Relieved, I led the way down the hall, knocking on the door when we reached it.

  “Come in,” Pete said.

  I pushed the door open. Cate sat up in bed, her face as pale as porcelain. But the brightness of her blue eyes and the grin on her face made her look as beautiful as I’d ever seen her. “Come look,” she said, motioning toward me with her free hand.

  Little Walter was swaddled tightly in a blanket, his face red under a little cap. His eyes were closed.

  I washed my hands and then touched the top of his head.

  “Do you want to hold him?” Cate asked.

  “Of course.” I leaned forward and reached for the baby. Cate slipped him into my arms, and I stood up straight with him, my eyes on his sweet face. Ben stepped to my side. The baby stirred a little, and his eyelids fluttered open for just a minute, but then he settled back down. Ben reached out and stroked his cheek.

  “You must be tired,” I whispered to Walter. “You had quite the adventure—and gave us all quite the scare.”

  “Jah,” Cate said, “But Aenti Bea came to the rescue. What would I have done without you?”

  I turned toward her. “You would have done just fine. I didn’t do anything.”

  “No, you did,” Pete said.

  Ben was nodding his head. “You’re awfully competent, Bea.”

  “Stop,” I said, embarrassed to the core.

  Bob came into the room and said he’d found us a ride, and the driver was only ten minutes away. “We need to get downstairs,” he said. Then he turned to Pete. “I’ll check the messages tonight and first thing in the morning. Let me know if you need anything. And when you can come h
ome.”

  I passed the baby back to Cate, and Bob bent down and kissed them both. “Get some rest,” he said. “And congratulations.”

  As Ben followed me out of the room and stepped beside me, a wave of sadness passed over me. Just over a week ago, I’d thought a family with Ben was in my future. Now it wasn’t. I swiped at a tear, and Ben gave me a concerned look.

  I swallowed hard. “I’m happy for them is all,” I said. That was true. I was. But it wasn’t why I was crying.

  Chapter

  22

  Bob had hired a driver with a humongous four-wheel drive truck with an extended cab. The snow had stopped, and Ben and I sat in the back with a huge space between us. When the driver drove up the lane, I was surprised to see Leon riding his horse down it. He gave us a big wave and a grin and kept on going. When the driver stopped in front of the house, Ben got out first and then offered me his hand. I took it because the ground appeared icy. It was. I nearly skated into the splits. Love bounded to my side and then to Ben’s as he steadied me, helped me to the door, and then said good-night. As Bob paid the driver, I watched Ben head toward the Dawdi Haus, Love at his side.

  I heard a voice I didn’t expect when I entered the kitchen. My Mamm’s. She sat in the rocker, cradling Asher, talking with Hope.

  “Here they are!” Hope exclaimed, coming toward me with Leah.

  My Mamm asked, “How is Cate? And the baby?”

  I let Bob answer. It was his place to. “Gut,” he said. “Walter is tiny but healthy. Cate’s tired but grateful. And Pete’s as proud as any papa I’ve ever seen.” He glanced toward the hallway. “Where’s Nan?”

  “In the living room,” Hope said. “Napping in front of the fire.”

  As he hurried down the hall, I asked Mamm why she was here. “Molly got a call from Hannah that you’d gone with Cate. I figured Hope and Nan would need help, so Leon brought me over on his horse, and then he stayed for supper. It was Molly’s idea.”

  “Oh, goodness,” I said. “That must have been quite a ride for you.”

  Her eyes lit up. “It was lovely. Moonlight on snow is one of the most beautiful things in the world.”

  She was right. “How long will you stay?” I asked.

  “Until tomorrow. Whenever Leon can make it back for me.”

  She slept on the couch. Nan and Bob slept in Cate and Pete’s bed in the sunroom, to make it easier for Bob to keep the fires stoked and the babies warm. For once I didn’t get up during the night to help.

  The next morning, I found out that Mamm had. “Goodness,” she said. “I couldn’t do that night after night, but it was a joy this once.”

  Again I understood why she wanted to go to Montana with Molly. And I thought she absolutely should. Grandchildren were a blessing. There was no reason she should experience it at a distance.

  As I was preparing breakfast, Ben appeared at the door, surprising me, but I let him in. It wasn’t my house or up to me to say whether or not he could eat with us.

  Mamm rocked Leah and told the rest of us to eat. Once the baby was asleep, she asked Ben—of all people—if he’d take the baby girl from her and put her in the playpen. “It hurts my back,” she said, “to bend over like that.” Ben obliged, handling the little one with the expertise I’d seen from him before.

  About midmorning, Leon showed up to take Mamm home. I don’t think she was ready to go, but she didn’t want to ask Leon to come back later. She gave me a hug. “We still need to talk,” she said. “I’m going to go ahead with the sale of the farm to Mervin. We’ll figure out what to do with the money in time—and what you want to do.”

  I nodded, hugging her back.

  Cate, Pete, and the baby didn’t come home that day. The doctor wanted to keep Walter for an extra couple of days, until he began gaining his weight back and maintaining his heat. And there was no reason for Cate to have to find a ride back and forth, so she stayed too, with Pete at her side. I thought that was a good idea. We were having a hard time keeping three preemies warm, let alone four.

  Ben stayed at the Dawdi Haus all week, helping Bob with the chores and working in the shop, even though the rest of the crew didn’t come in on Tuesday or Wednesday. Bob didn’t speak with me about Ben, but he must have decided we’d come to some sort of peace, because he invited Ben to eat with us every meal. I was fine with that—as long as Ben didn’t try to talk with me.

  He didn’t.

  Still it hurt to have him around.

  On Wednesday evening, Ben stayed in the kitchen after supper. Hope, Nan, and Bob moved into the living room with the babies, probably thinking they were doing me a favor. Ben picked up the platter of chicken.

  “I can do that,” I said.

  “I’d like to help,” he responded.

  I started the dishwater, putting the glasses in the sink and then adding the soap, as he cleared the food from the table.

  “Mervin came by this afternoon—he’d been over at the Cramers’ house, to visit Hannah.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  Ben put the empty mashed-potato bowl on the counter. “He says you plan to move to Montana.”

  I turned the water off. “Who told him that?”

  “Molly.” He walked back to the table.

  “Oh,” I said again. Molly probably assumed I wanted to get as far away from Lancaster County as possible.

  He returned and placed the basket of rolls on the counter. “So you were just kidding about me leaving—right?”

  “Unless you want to move to Montana,” I replied.

  “Pardon?”

  “Montana,” I said louder. “Would you like to move there?”

  “Jah, I would,” he answered. “As long as you’re going too.”

  “Ben—” My voice caught in my throat as my heart lurched. I chided myself. It was no good to be around him, not at all. “I can finish up,” I said, turning away from him.

  He stepped closer to me, the bowl of apple butter in one hand and the salt and pepper shakers in the other. “I want to help.” I could feel his breath on my neck.

  I turned to face him, shaking my head. “Go read. Or write in your journal. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  For some reason, he obeyed me.

  The next morning, Thursday, Ben didn’t show up for breakfast. Bob said he was already in the shop. “He said he brought some food and fed himself.”

  I didn’t respond. It wasn’t like I missed him. Or cared, really, whether he ate or not. I just wanted to make sure I was doing my job.

  By then all of the roads were plowed, including the lane, and the shop was back on a normal schedule—except for Pete, who was still at the hospital with Cate. During dinner, Bob said Doris was on her way to pick up the new family and bring them home. “Betsy’s going to come over this afternoon to see them,” Bob added. “She wasn’t able to make it to the hospital.”

  Hope and I changed the sheets on the downstairs bed. Bob and Nan would be back upstairs with their babies, leaving the sunroom for Cate again until she regained her strength.

  A different driver brought Betsy, who came alone, just before supper. “Levi said he’d stay with the kids,” she said. “We’ll bring them after Cate has more time to rest. I remember how exhausting it is to have too many people around.”

  We expected Cate and Pete any time, but I went ahead and put supper on the table, with Betsy’s help. Just as we were sitting down to eat, the new family arrived. Betsy rushed outside to help them in. Betsy was much more helpful when her own children weren’t around.

  Cate looked exhausted as they entered, leaning against Betsy as Pete carried the car seat. I imagined being on bed rest for so long had zapped her strength. Nan scrambled to her feet to hug Cate and get a look at the baby. Then Cate said she was going to go to bed.

  “I’ll bring a tray,” I said. “For you too, Pete.”

  “Denki,” he responded.

  But a few minutes later, when I entered the sunroom with two plates, Betsy, who was hold
ing the baby, said she’d stay with Cate. “Go to the table,” she said to Pete. “Give us some sister time.”

  Pete obeyed. As I placed the plates on the bed table, I heard someone at the back door.

  “It’s Ben,” Betsy said. “He’s getting a ride home with me tonight. But he needs to box up his venison in the freezer first. I made room for it back home today.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Betsy leaned back against the chair, the baby secure in her arms. “I hope you know you’ve broken his heart.”

  I stood up straight. “Are you talking to me?”

  “I’m certainly not talking to Cate.”

  “Betsy,” Cate chided.

  “Who told you I broke his heart?” I asked.

  “He did.”

  “Well, I doubt he told you the whole story.”

  “I’m guessing he did,” Betsy replied. “He said it was all his fault.”

  “You two looked so sweet together the night Wally was born,” Cate said, lifting a spoonful of applesauce. “Are you sure you’re not getting back together?”

  “Positive,” I answered. “I’ll check back with you in a little bit.” I fled but stopped halfway down the hall. Ben stood in the kitchen, a bag in one hand and his journal in the other.

  “The cold box you borrowed is still down by the freezer,” Bob said. “Use it. You can bring it back whenever you get a chance.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder why Bob said “whenever you get a chance” and not just “tomorrow.”

  “Denki,” Ben said, placing his bag beside the wall and then slipping his journal into the side pocket. I was absolutely opposed to snooping. Molly had done that to me once and it took me years to recover. But I had a sudden urge to read Ben’s journal. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d written about me.

  Not that it mattered one way or the other. I stayed frozen in the hall, listening as closely as I could.

  “Denki,” Ben said again. Apparently he wasn’t done being grateful. “For everything. You’ve been so good to me—as a boss and as a friend. I appreciate the advice, honestly.”

  A chair scraped against the floor. I guessed Bob must have gotten up, because in no time there was the sound of someone being patted on the back—and it wasn’t someone burping a baby. These were manly pats. It seemed over the top, considering Ben would be back tomorrow.