A Simple Charity

by Rosalind Lauer

  “Now, put the talk of gossip aside and let me tell you why I came back. Last night, when I was just outside putting on my hat and coat, I heard you say that the fire proves it is Gott’s will for the center to be closed.” He wagged a finger at her. “This is not what the Bible teaches us. When soldiers chased Gott’s people across the desert, did they give up? Nay. When Joseph’s brothers were cruel to him, did he lie in a ditch and let them break his spirit?”

  “He did not.” Fanny liked the way Bishop Samuel added up Bible stories and extracted meaning from them, like a cook squeezing every last drop from a lemon.

  “That’s right. It’s one thing to surrender to Gott’s ways in matters that are beyond our control. When death comes, we must accept the loss. But when there is a problem we can fix, we must give ourselves up to the needs of the community.” He paused, his gray eyes magnified by the lenses of his spectacles. “So. Sometimes Gott puts things in our path to challenge us. Like the fire. Gott has no quarrel with giving women a place to have their babes. It must be rebuilt.”

  Fanny ran her fingertips over a groove in the scarred kitchen table. It was hard to imagine another building in the charred, withered frame where the birthing center had once stood. “Watching it burn was like …” She kept touching the groove in the table. “It was the end of a dream. There’s no money to rebuild. Anna is retiring, and with a family of my own, I can’t be the only Amish midwife at the center. And I don’t have the heart or the strength to rebuild.”

  “Mmm.” The growl wasn’t so sympathetic. “What about the heart of the community? What about the women and families who need help bringing their babies into the world? The center may have been a source of joy for you, but it’s not really about pleasing you, is it? Swallow your pride and thank Gott for the charity of our community. Your friends and neighbors will be there when you need them.”

  “I’m grateful for everyone’s help. But to rebuild—I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  Samuel leaned forward, his eyes intent. “The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.”

  Fanny gave a little gasp; that had been one of Tom’s favorite expressions.

  “So you take the step,” said the bishop, “and then another, and like little Tommy, soon you will find that you are walking, and the path is clear.”

  37

  Jack stared at the pay phone in the corridor of the rehab facility and wondered how it worked. He hadn’t used one of these things in a hundred years. A credit card. Okay, then.

  He swiped his card and tapped in the number for Meg’s cell. No answer. Well, yeah. She would be in the clinic, getting her procedure done. Cell phone off.

  After that he was at a loss. He didn’t know any other phone numbers by heart; they were all stored in his cell phone.

  His mysteriously missing cell phone. Yeah, thanks for that, Lisa. He suspected that she’d tossed it out the car window or dumped it into a toilet at one of the rest stops they’d made on the way to Philly. He couldn’t be sure where she’d stashed it, but he knew that she’d taken it. She’d admitted as much to the psychologist doing the intake interview at Gladstone.

  He tapped his fingers on the shelf under the pay phone. Next step, see if 411 still worked.

  He got Kat’s number through information, and at least managed to reach her. “Jack, where’ve you been? Everyone’s been looking for you.”

  “Everyone like who?”

  “Meg. Lisa paid her a visit yesterday. I think it threw her, but things got worse when no one could reach you.”

  Poor Meg. Lisa had pushed too far this time.

  “And the sheriff’s office called. Apparently there was a big fire last night and they were hoping you could come in. Why aren’t you answering your cell phone?”

  “It was stolen. By Lisa.”

  “What’s going on, Bug?”

  “Long story. Tell me about the fire.”

  He winced over her description of the devastating fire at the birthing center. Tragedy had struck his town, and he’d been off chasing a disaster of his own. He heaved a sigh, laden with guilt. At least no one had been injured. He explained that he was at a pay phone and asked her to look up some numbers for him.

  She gave him the information, then had to go. “Abigail sleeps so rarely, it’s my only time to eat and nap.”

  “Thanks, sis. Later.” He hung up, then swiped his card again for a call to the bed-and-breakfast.

  Tate answered, but he didn’t have any info on Meg’s procedure. “Hold on and I’ll get Zoey.”

  As he waited, he stewed over the way Lisa had messed things up for him. Driving all the way out to Halfway. Telling people lies. Stealing things from him.

  “I’m doing this for you,” she had insisted. “I love you, and I know you love me. You said you would always take care of me. You promised.”

  “I was fifteen years old when I made that promise. I was a kid … we both were. But those days are over.”

  “They don’t have to be,” she had pouted.

  “Yeah. They do. I wish you no harm, Lisa, but it’s time for you to grow up and take responsibility for your actions. Put on your big-girl pants and stop blaming other people for your unhappiness. Nobody else can help you if you don’t help yourself.”

  That little lecture had shut her up for a good twenty miles. Man, he’d thought he was through being her caretaker, but he’d gotten a bitter taste of the past when she’d shown up at his door, glazed and manipulative. Definitely in crisis.

  “How did you find me?” he’d asked.

  “Dear old Gran,” Lisa had said in a voice laced with sarcasm. “She’s so proud of you. Told me all about your job in Halfway, and your new girlfriend.”

  That had steeled Jack’s protective instincts. “You need to stay away from me and the people I care about.”

  Lisa had just laughed at that and pushed her way into his apartment. Furious, Jack had called her dad, who’d begged Jack to bring her back to Philly.

  “She’s been going downhill for a few weeks now, and her mother and I, we’re at a loss. We’ve been trying to get her to return to Gladstone for rehab, but she refuses. If you can get her back to there, we’d really owe you, son. Her mother and I will meet you there to check her in. I think they open at eight-thirty.”

  “And what am I supposed to do with her till then?” Jack had asked, trying to keep his voice low. He was using Lisa’s phone, talking in the men’s room. He’d slid her cell out of her purse while she was driving. Yeah, two could play at that game.

  Although Jack had threatened to dump her at her parents’ place, he knew Lisa would freak if he went near that upscale neighborhood. So they drove, and ended up at an all-night diner.

  At least Richard Engles and his wife had been good on their word. They’d been waiting at the clinic lobby, contrite and grateful. Jack had told the Engleses, in no uncertain terms, that they needed to take care of their daughter. He warned them that if Lisa tried to contact him again, he would get an order of protection.

  “It’s time for a clean break,” Jack had said. “That’s the only way we can both start over. The only way your daughter can start to make a life for herself.”

  “I hear you,” Richard had said. He had promised to take good care of Lisa, and he would bring up Jack’s right to privacy in their family therapy session.

  Raking a hand back over his head, Jack sighed. What time was it, anyway? He’d been up all night, trying to keep Lisa from hurting herself while they waited for the admitting office to open at Gladstone. He desperately needed to shower and shave and sleep. But even more, he needed to connect with Meg.

  He snapped back to the here and now when Zoey’s voice came on the line.

  “Hello?”

  “Zoey, it’s Jack.”

  “Oh, honey, you are in the doghouse.”

  “I know, I know. That’s why I need your help. Please. Is Meg still in surgery?”

  38

  The work of six men, hauling of
f charred beams and ash, had barely changed the look of the mound of scorched debris. Zed dumped the load of cinders into the bed of the cart and leaned on his shovel to take in the line of buggies coming up the lane. They were earlier than he had expected.

  For Zed and Caleb, the morning had been spent going from one church member to another, filling in details they didn’t know about the fire and asking for help rebuilding the center. It was the sort of task that Zed usually dreaded, talking and socializing with folks he didn’t know well. But to his surprise, he’d found that the words poured out of him, his request earnest. He had learned the truth in his dat’s advice to walk softly, speak kindly, and pray fervently.

  The visitors parked near the house but assembled in front of the fire site, talking quietly and shaking their heads as they surveyed the damage.

  Adam King, a skilled carpenter, had offered to do some of the interior finishes with Zed. Jimmy Lapp and Nate King had older sons who would work as laborers, along with other able-bodied men in the community. Folks like Aaron Stoltzfus and the Kings, who owned profitable businesses, had offered to donate money.

  Zed was happy to see Preacher Dave and the deacon, Moses Yoder, who had helped Zed locate a master builder.

  Caleb came up beside Zed. “Should I go fetch Fanny?” asked Caleb.

  “Do you think she’s done talking with the bishop?” Zed asked, rubbing his smooth-shaven chin with his knuckles.

  “The real question is, did he convince her to rebuild?” Caleb smacked the arms of his coat, sending gusts of black dust in the air.

  The birth center had been close to Fanny’s heart. Once she got past the shock of losing the first building, she would see her way to building another. Besides, she wouldn’t go against the bishop. No one wanted to do that. “I’m sure she came around,” Zed said. “Why don’t you go test the waters?”

  Brushing soot from his pants, Caleb strode down to the house.

  Zed used the time to meet the master builder, a thin man who was chugging on a pipe. “So you hired a car to come all the way from Bird-in-Hand?”

  “I did. I’ve done barn-raisings in Halfway before, but it’s been a few years.”

  When Zed looked up, he saw Fanny walking over from the house, flanked by Caleb and the bishop. Fanny wasn’t wearing a coat, and although the wind billowed the skirt of her dress and lifted the strings of her kapp, her footing did not waver.

  The sharp edge of fear was gone from her blue eyes, and in its place was a calm, easy peace. Gelassenheit. This was the woman he recognized, the woman he knew well. A nurturing mother, a kind and soulful friend, a calm and sympathetic midwife.

  He watched as she walked past the dozen or so buggies in the lane and came to the circle of friends in front of the blighted building. The sight of Fanny with her faith restored was like the first purple crocus poking through the snow. A sign of springtime, a hint of hope.

  “What’s this?” Bishop Samuel spouted as he reached the group. “Have you all come to work? I don’t think you want to be digging in the ashes with your broadcloth trousers on, Dave,” he teased the preacher.

  “We have come to lend our support for rebuilding the center.” Joan Fisher was the first to speak up, much to Zed’s surprise. As she went on to say that the center would help many women and families, Zed let his bitterness toward her fade. Ya, she had hurt Fanny, but forgiveness was long overdue.

  “Your kindness is a blessing from Gott,” Fanny said, tenderness in her eyes. “It would be wonderful to put up a new building, but right now there’s just no money to pay for it.”

  “It’s a good thing, this center,” said Aaron Stoltzfus. “Lovina will be over this afternoon with some dinner for the workers, but she wouldn’t let me miss this meeting. If it’s donations that are needed to get you going again, you can count on us.”

  “And the King dairy cooperative,” said Nate King. “Not to mention the labor we can provide. I’ve got a few strapping boys who could use some experience with a hammer and saw.”

  “There are emergency funds available in this community,” said Moses Yoder. “We’ll see you through.”

  “And I’ll organize a haystack supper to raise money.” Fanny’s friend Edna came to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Folks love having a night when they don’t have to cook.”

  The outpouring of support brought tears to Fanny’s eyes. “Denki. Thank you all so much.”

  “It’s the way we live,” said Edna Lapp, who had benefited from the community’s strong passion for charity when her son James had been injured last year.

  Zed bit his lower lip, moved by Fanny’s gratitude and by his own awareness of Gott’s blessings. To have been led back to this community after years among the English, years in an emotional desert, Zed knew he’d been blessed by Gott.

  Meanwhile, Fanny was moving around the circle, speaking with each visitor and thanking them. When she came to the stranger, she paused, and Zed stepped forward.

  “This is Joseph Stoltzfus, a master builder who came all the way from Bird-in-Hand.” Zed introduced the wiry man who had come to take measurements so that he could start construction on the frame of the new building.

  “Thank the heavenly Father!” Fanny turned to Zed, her blue eyes alight with pleasure. “You don’t waste any time.”

  “This debris will be cleared away in a few days,” Zed told her. “We need to be ready.”

  “The first thing is to decide on one story or two,” Joseph said. “The original building had an upstairs attic, but Zed said it was not used. Do you need one story or two?”

  “That’s up to Fanny.” Zed didn’t want to step on her toes.

  “There hasn’t been much time to think on that, but I reckon one story is cheaper?”

  Joseph nodded. “A lot cheaper.”

  “Then one story will do,” she said, prompting a laugh from the center’s supporters.

  39

  Meg woke up from surgery to the sound of his voice. He was humming “Amazing Grace,” rather poorly, but the gritty melody was the sweetest music she’d ever heard.

  “Jack …” She opened her eyes, feeling refreshed. The anesthesia used in the surgery had that effect, letting the patient snap back to full awareness.

  “You okay? Feeling good? You look great. They said everything went well.” He took her hand. His smile was crooked but contrite. “Man, you’re a welcome sight. I’ve been through the wringer in the past twenty-four hours.”

  “Yeah.” She squeezed his hand, happy to see him even if he was in the doghouse. “It wasn’t so good for me, either. What happened to you, Jack? Why didn’t you answer any of my messages?”

  “I’m so sorry about that, girl. It was killing me, but my hands were tied. Well, not literally, but sort of. Lisa swiped my cell phone and I haven’t seen it since. Do you know how lost you can be when your cell is gone? I still don’t know what she did with it. And with Lisa needing a full-time watchdog, I couldn’t really go off hunting for a pay phone.”

  “What’s going on with her?”

  “She went off her meds. Needed to be shepherded in. I heard she paid you a visit.”

  “She did. I’m afraid she got a sneak peek of my wedding gown.”

  “Whoa. I bet the fur was flying.”

  “No, it was all very civilized. She kept her claws retracted and I resisted the urge to pounce. Actually, she put up a good front, but I sensed that something wasn’t right with her. Then when I couldn’t get through to you, it had me worried.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “Yes, I do. That’s what we do, watch out for each other. You’re going to have to get used to that if you’re planning to stick around.”

  “You’re right. It’s nice to know you’ve got my back.”

  She lifted one hand to scratch her nose and noticed the IV line and clip on her finger. Raising the other hand to her head, she felt the goofy surgical bonnet that kept her hair contained. One tug and it was off. �
��You didn’t tell me I looked like a lunch lady.”

  “Girl, you always look good to me.”

  The thread of insecurity that had been twisting inside her for the past twenty-four hours now melted away as relief overcame her. This was Jack, solid, kind, so dependable that he wouldn’t deny anyone help, even a woman who had done him wrong, hurt him deeply.

  “So tell me the whole story,” she said. “Everything. Spare no details. I’m stuck in this bed for another hour, at least, and I want to know what we’re dealing with, in case Lisa decides to boomerang back into our lives.”

  “It’s kind of a sad story, but here goes.” And he told her how he had been Lisa’s crutch, her enabler, for years. How her family had alternately supported her treatment through the years but couldn’t offer Lisa a strong emotional commitment. Now, at least, Lisa was under the care of a psychiatrist, and she had been checked in to a program. After a long talk with the rehab staff, Lisa’s parents had agreed to take better care of her in the future, and the doctor would try to adjust Lisa’s medications so that she wouldn’t resist taking them. “Unfortunately, there are no guarantees that she won’t come back and hound me again, but I made it pretty clear that I’m not her hero anymore.”

  “I appreciate your loyalty to her.” Fierce loyalty—that was Jack. It was one of the many qualities she’d fallen in love with. “If she ever shows up again, we can help her together. That might help her to see you less as a former boyfriend and more as a friend.”

  He nodded. “That’s a good idea. And I like the idea of having you on my team.”

  They talked for another hour or so, interrupted only when the doctor came in to tell her how the procedure had gone. When the surgeon asked if Jack should step out, Meg shook her head.

  “He should stay. Pretty soon he’s going to be Mr. Meg Harper.”

  That got the surgeon chuckling. It was the perfect segue to the doctor’s news of a successful procedure. “If Mr. Harper here is your ride home, you’re free to go. Get something to eat and take it easy for the next five to seven days. We’ll see you back in two weeks for a recheck.”