A Simple Charity

by Rosalind Lauer

  But the thought of finishing made her a little sick. Would Zed stop coming once the place was done? That was a change she wasn’t prepared for. In her heart she knew the truth: She didn’t want to give Zed up. She had come to see him in a different light, as a woman viewed a man. And it seemed that after one glimpse with loving eyes, there was no going back to being strictly friends.

  It was getting harder and harder to hide her emerging feelings for Zed, and it was not something she could talk about with anyone. She was a widow in mourning, her Thomas not gone a year yet, and Zed was still working his way back into the community’s good graces after being gone and lost to the faith for so many years. Already the two of them stood out like sore thumbs, and right now a match between them would be pure scandal.

  Taking the gloves from the rack, she slid one hand into the soft kid leather and pressed it to her troubled heart. A flame still burned there for her Thomas. It always would. She knew she was not ready to marry again, and yet the joy she felt when she was with Zed was so strong and sure. Conversation flowed easily between them, and he was as reliable as the sunrise each morning. They needed time, and the clock was clicking too fast. Once Zed finished his work at the carriage house and took a job with a builder, the single maids would pounce on him like barn cats on a mouse. Tamping down those jealous thoughts, she moved around the corner of a display and spotted Tommy, who was feeling his way along the edge of a stack of doormats. He grabbed on, pulled himself up to his feet, and started to toddle away.

  “Where are we going now, little man?” she asked with an amused smile.

  “I got him, Mamm,” Beth said, gently shepherding Tommy along. She followed close, easing his fall when he plopped down to the floor. “Oops-a-daisy. You want to get back up? Here. I’ll help.” Beth lifted him up and propped him on his feet again. For a four-year-old, she was a good little helper.

  “Here we are.” Mr. Hennessey put the roll of insulation down beside the counter. “Anything else I can get for you, Fanny?”

  “These gloves.” She put them on the counter and paid for her purchase.

  “Let me load this into your buggy for you,” he said, lifting the bulky insulation. “I’m guessing this will be the last roll?” Mr. Hennessey had been keeping up with the progress on the center, and he knew they had already purchased most of the insulation.

  “This should be the last one. They’ve already started closing up the walls, but they were a bit short.” Fanny picked up Tommy and motioned to Beth to follow her out the door.

  “Well, you tell Zed to let me know if he needs anything else. Sounds like they’re getting close to the finish line. When are you planning to open your doors?”

  “January. But we’ve already had one baby born at the center. A surprise for all of us.”

  “I heard about that. Deb and Gideon Yoder had their fourth, right?” he asked as he hoisted the roll into the back of the buggy.

  “Word travels fast.” Deb always had quick labors, and when her husband couldn’t locate Anna, he had loaded Deb into the buggy and driven her to the closest place where he could get help. Fanny had caught the baby, and she still thanked Gott that everything had gone well.

  That day with the Yoders replayed in Fanny’s mind as she drove the buggy home. She recalled the shocked look on Zed’s face when she and Gideon had helped Deb into the center. Looking back on it now, she could laugh. But Zed had been genuinely confused.

  “But we’re not open yet,” he’d insisted. As if that would make Deb’s labor stop for a few weeks.

  “Open or not, we need Fanny’s help!” Gideon had said firmly. “Our baby is coming, and it’s coming right now.”

  That had made Zed put down his tools mighty quick. Fanny had asked him to keep an eye on the children, and told him that there was still coffee on the kitchen stove.

  Fanny showed the couple to the one finished bay, where a new cot sat covered with a tarp. As she folded the tarp from the bed, she was glad that this small area was ready. She hadn’t thought they would be using the cot anytime soon, but Fanny had covered it with plastic sheets, doing a little nesting of her own in the building. It was also good to have heat from the wood-burning stove that had gone in last week—a donation from Nate and Betsy King, who owned a successful dairy farm in Halfway. She put Gideon on the task of maintaining the fire while she tended to Deb.

  When Deb had told Fanny her babies came quickly, she wasn’t kidding. Within the hour Fanny had washed and wrapped the newborn and placed him in Gideon’s arms. Deb was sitting up on the cot, so pleased to have her baby here.

  “Look at his little hands. Such tiny fingers and nails.” Deb folded the blanket back from the baby for a better look, and the baby let out a squall that made both parents laugh. “He’s got a good set of lungs!”

  Fanny left the three of them for a bit and went back into the main house, where Zed had heated up soup and made sandwiches for everyone.

  “The children seemed hungry, and I figured the folks over there would want to eat eventually.” The color had returned to Zed’s face, and he looked so comfortable sitting at the table, bouncing Tommy on his knee.

  It was clear he had recovered from being pushed out of the work site so abruptly. He was relieved that the Yoders’ baby had arrived safely, and he helped Fanny bring back a tray of food for them.

  Gideon had soup and half a sandwich, but Deb polished off three sandwiches, which was no surprise to Fanny, who understood the voracious appetite of a new mother.

  “Next time you have a baby, you’ll be welcome to stay a night or two,” Fanny said as she ladled out another bowl of soup for Deb. “We’ll be set up to take good care of you then. But I’m afraid we’re going to have to send you home today so that Zed can get back to work.”

  “I have to say, you took me by surprise,” Zed said from his perch atop a sawhorse. “I didn’t even have a minute to sweep up the sawdust.”

  “A little sawdust never hurt anyone.” Gideon leaned forward and rubbed his knuckles gently against his son’s chubby cheek.

  “I’m grateful that you opened up for us today,” Deb said. “Homemade soup, sandwiches, and a new baby to take home … this has got to be one of the best days ever!”

  “We appreciate it, Fanny,” Gideon added. “But I can’t help wondering what happened to Anna. It’s not like her to leave without telling anyone.”

  Later that day, after the Yoders had left and Zed was back to work, Fanny drove into town and heard the news at the Country Store.

  “Dear Anna broke her ankle,” Elsie reported. “She tripped and fell while she was feeding the chickens. She’s in a cast, and she’ll need to stay off her feet for at least a month. Susie King is going to move in to take care of her since Anna’s daughters have all moved out of the area.”

  “Poor Anna. She’s not going to like being laid up, but that explains a lot about this morning.” Fanny and Elsie decided to make a casserole and cookies to take over to the midwife.

  “But I guess it means that, at least for now, you’re the midwife around here,” Elsie said. “It’s a good thing you’re here for the mothers who need you.”

  “And a good thing that we’re opening the birth center,” Fanny agreed.

  When Fanny arrived at home, she got the children settled in the house and hid the gloves in the back of one of her dresser drawers. When she went back to the buggy, Zed was toting the roll of insulation on one shoulder.

  “I’ll unhitch the buggy for you,” he said. “But if you have a minute, I want to show you something in the kitchen.”

  “I always have a minute for you,” she said, following him into the carriage house.

  He propped the insulation in the corner and led her to the kitchen area, where the refrigerator and stove that had been donated by Amish folk gleamed in the light of the kerosene lamp. “Down here, under the sink.” He opened the cabinet drawer and dropped to his knees by the sink.

  She gathered the skirt of her dress and kneeled be
side him.

  “It’s the valve for the water supply,” he said. “Do you see that blue lever?”

  It was dark under the cabinet, and she couldn’t see much beyond the pipes. “I don’t think so.”

  He switched on a flashlight and leaned in beside her, so near that his arm brushed hers. The mixed smells of wood smoke, lavender, and sawdust awakened her senses. “Right back there. Can you reach it?” He pointed the light on it.

  “Let me try.” She reached into the cabinet to touch the lever, and in the tight space she had to press against him. Her fingers brushed the handle right away, but she lingered there, savoring the closeness of him.

  “Got it?” he asked.

  “Ya.” Letting the air from her lungs, she leaned out and sat back on her heels, suddenly face-to-face with him, so close she could see a small patch on his neck that he had missed with the razor this morning. How she longed to touch the stubble with her fingers, to run her hand along his smooth jaw and burrow her fingers into his thick hair.

  Her face was suddenly warm with embarrassment, and she cast her eyes down. “Do I need to keep an eye on this water valve?”

  “Only if there’s an emergency. If you turn this valve, it will shut off the water supply to this building. It’s a good thing to know.”

  “Mmm.” She could feel his breath and smell the scent of fresh cut wood on his skin. “But you’ll be here to turn it off if there’s any problem.” She blurted the words out before she realized it was not true. Although Zed seemed close as a family member, he didn’t belong here. Not forever. And the thought of a morning without Zed left her feeling empty and lost. Although Fanny knew her emotions were not practical, she wanted Zed to stay, for good.

  “I’ll be here a few more weeks.” In a heartbeat, he was on his feet, reaching down to her. “After that, you’ll be in charge. It would be wrong for me to leave without teaching you how things work.”

  “I see.” She took his hand, surprised by the warmth of it on this December day, and held on to him as he helped her up. His touch sent tingles down her spine, but she couldn’t speak of that. Those feelings had to be stowed away for now. “I will always remember the water valve lesson.”

  “Your hands are like ice.” He pressed her hands inside his, then rubbed them gently, trying to infuse warmth. “Is it really getting that cold outside?”

  It’s the thought of losing you that leaves me cold. Please, don’t ever go. Take me in your arms and warm me from head to toe …

  It was wrong to have these feelings. She was in mourning, still wearing black. When guilt weighed her down, she kept telling herself that it was natural to become attached to someone you see every day. Besides that, the Millers were family. Family. Maybe she would come to love Zed like a brother. Maybe? No, that would be a lie. Dear Gott, she prayed, conscious of the heat of Zed’s body radiating through her hands. Teach me patience and help me appreciate solitude.

  A knock on the door broke the moment between them, and they both pulled their hands away as if caught doing something wrong. Zed turned to the sink and Fanny went to the door, crossing the invisible line back to their separate lives.

  “I wonder who that is.” Fanny pressed the backs of her hands to her hot cheeks, hoping that her face would not reveal the fiery longing that burned inside. With a deep breath she opened the door to two Englisher women. It was her neighbor Zoey Jordan and Zoey’s sister, Meg, the midwife who was ever so helpful delivering Lizzy’s baby.

  “Hey, there!” Zoey’s cloud of hair was like a golden halo around her head. She wore a fancy red coat with a big pin shaped like a Christmas wreath, with little red lights on it that blinked on and off. “Sorry to drop in on you like this, but Meg just got here and I was hoping to show her your new center.” She tilted her head, peeking inside. “Mind if we take a look?”

  Fanny opened the door wide. “Come in.” It was impossible to say no to good, kind Zoey, and Fanny was still grateful to Meg, who had taught her many things in the brief hours that they had worked together. A week or so after that difficult birth, Fanny had received a package in the mail from Meg—a little suctioning tool like the one Meg had shown her how to use. Anna had marveled over it, and Doc Trueherz had told her that it would be invaluable in her work as a midwife.

  “Hi, Fanny. It’s good to see you.” Meg wore a blue quilted coat with a green scarf, and her copper red hair was nearly covered by a green, fleece-trimmed cap that made her look as young as a teenager. “I’m so glad the center is coming together for you.”

  “Folks seem to want it,” Fanny admitted. “There’s not really much to see. But we hope to open in January.”

  “I’m going to take care of the horse,” Zed said, slipping past the women to go out the door.

  Fanny nodded to him gratefully.

  “Hi and bye, Zed,” Zoey said. “You’re doing a great job here. Everyone’s excited about it.”

  He gave a tight smile before pulling on his black hat and stepping out.

  “I didn’t mean to chase him out. Was he afraid you two might talk shop?” Zoey said.

  Fanny frowned. Well, of course Zed didn’t want to hear about that.

  Meg nodded. “I don’t blame him. So tell me about your birthing center. Zoey tells me that you’ve been working on renovations since the summer.”

  “We have. And already one woman had her baby here.”

  “Really?” Zoey put her hands on her hips. “How’d that happen?”

  Fanny told them about Gideon and Deb Yoder. “Luckily, it all turned out fine. A baby boy, strong and healthy.”

  “Excellent.” There was a warm glow in Meg’s smile, and Fanny was reminded of the midwife’s knowledge. This was a woman who understood the peaks and valleys of childbirth, a woman who knew the joy of the final outcome, a healthy baby and mother.

  “See?” Zoey wagged a finger. “That just shows you that women need this place. When I found out that I was expecting, I was shocked to learn that Halfway didn’t have any medical facility to speak of.” Zoey patted her belly in that way English women had of showing everyone that they were pregnant. Amish women kept such things to themselves. “I’m so glad you decided to build this, out here in the country.”

  “And I imagine that a lot of local women plan to use the center,” Meg said.

  “That’s what we’re hearing. Doc Trueherz says that most of his Englisher patients go to the hospital in Lancaster, but he thinks some will want to come here. And in January Doc will come out one day a week to do prenatal visits with his Amish patients in the area. The women will be glad to save a trip to Paradise and back, especially with the cold weather and icy roads this time of year.” Fanny explained that the doctor wanted her to get involved, since Anna was still laid up with a broken ankle.

  “So I take it this will be a little sitting area near the kitchen.” Zoey walked over to the sink, the heels of her shiny boots clicking on the vinyl floor.

  “It’s smart for the front door to open up to a group area like this,” Meg said. “It makes the delivery area more private.”

  “It’s also a good place for Doc Trueherz to sit to do his paperwork.” Fanny crossed to the sink and opened the door of the refrigerator with a smile. “Both of these appliances were donations from Amish families who support the center.”

  “Wonderful! See? The community is behind you, Fanny.” Zoey leaned into the fridge, then frowned back at Fanny. “Umm … it’s not very cold.”

  “It’s not hooked up yet, but the stove and refrigerator will be powered by propane tanks out back. And through this doorway are the beds.” Fanny led the way, showing them the three areas separated by half walls. “We’ll hang curtains for privacy, but from what I’ve seen, most mothers enjoy socializing after the baby is born.” She pointed out that they had a bathroom with running water, but no electricity. Lights would be operated by battery or kerosene. “Nothing fancy here. We won’t have any of those big machines they have in hospitals, but we’ll have plenty of
light and simple instruments.”

  “I’ve seen fancy and high-tech”—Meg’s voice was firm but quiet—“and for most deliveries, I would prefer simple.”

  “Oh, look! You’ve already got a bed set up!” Zoey crowed. She sat on the single cot and patted the tarp. “Isn’t this wonderful? I could just put my feet up right now and take a nap.”

  “No naps for you,” Meg teased her sister. “We are walking into town. Exercise first, then nap, honey.”

  “Oh, dear. That’s right. Time for aerobics, and we need vanilla to bake our cookies.” Zoey pushed up from the cot. “My little sister has always been bossy.”

  Fanny smiled at the banter. “You two remind me of my own sisters back in Sugar Valley, Mary and Ruth Ann—the three of us are close in age, and we did everything together.” How wonderful it had been to share chores with them, washing the windows together or baking a big batch of cookies. Fanny missed that closeness, but with chores and children and babies to birth, there wasn’t a lot of time to spare for quilting bees and socializing.

  “There’s nothing like family,” said Meg. “My sister may complain, but I know she’s glad I’m here.”

  “Thrilled. I’m absolutely thrilled, and who’s complaining? I just know that if we’re walking into town, we had better get going if we want to get home before sundown. I’m moving a little slow these days. Fanny, do you need anything from the stores in town?”

  “Not today.”

  “And I’m sure Fanny has plenty to do.” Meg put a hand on her sister’s shoulder and steered her toward the door. “Thanks for giving us a look, Fanny. I can’t tell you how encouraged I am to see your clinic. I’ve been living in a place where doctors want women to have their babies in hospitals, with drugs and surgery.”

  “Oh, we wouldn’t want that,” Fanny said. “Most women here have their babies at home with a midwife. But the birthing center will make it easier on the doctors and the midwives, too. This way, Anna and I can share the responsibility.”