by Kelly Long
“Jacob, what’s wrong?”
She ran to his side, then saw her mother’s white face and blue lips in waxen relief against the wood of the table. She sucked in her breath and put her hands to her mouth in horror.
“She’s alive, Lilly. She’s breathing, but we’ve got to get her warm . . . better than this . . . We’ve got to get her to the hospital . . .” He muttered frantically as he rubbed her mother’s arms beneath the quilts.
“What happened . . . ach, what happened?” Lilly thought she might vomit. Instead she moved in a daze to rub her mamm’s ice-cold leg.
“I found her . . . outside, lying in the snow . . . Lilly, I’ve got to go and get Grant Williams right now. He might be able to warm her up better . . . an ambulance might take too long . . . Can you stay here? Rub her arms and legs . . . try some warm cloths . . . I won’t be long.” And he was gone, coatless and hatless out the still-open kitchen door before she could say a word.
She sobbed aloud and ran to close the door, then took a deep breath. Think, she told herself, and began to pray. She snatched the bottle of liniment from the counter and spilled some of its contents into her shaking hands. She set about reaching beneath the quilts, spreading the herbal warmth across her mamm’s chest and down her arms.
“Help me, Gött . . . help her . . . help me, help me.”
Finally she lifted the quilts to climb upon the table and lay her body across her mother’s. She closed her eyes, listening to the faint heartbeat. She slid her hands to clasp at the body that had given her life and prayed that Jacob would hurry.
She became aware that strong, gentle hands lifted her. She sobbed, not wanting to move.
“It’s all right, Lilly . . . it’s all right . . .” Jacob cradled her against him and her eyes snapped open.
“My mamm . . .?”
“Grant’s here now. It’s all right.”
She struggled in his arms and he set her down. She leaned against his cold bulk as Grant Williams bent with a stethoscope over her mother.
“Heartbeat’s fairly steady . . . but there’s no way for me to accurately measure core body temperature. I’ve got the basic equipment but I won’t take the risk of running fluids to warm her—not in this setting. We’ve got to get her to the hospital.” He lifted his blond head and nodded briefly at Lilly. “You probably saved her life with the liniment and the external warming, but there are still some risks. Get me all the tinfoil you have. Jacob, bring the buggy round; we have no time.”
They both scrambled to obey. Lilly ran in confusion to the pantry and brought out the large roll of tinfoil.
“Great.” Grant grabbed the roll and flung back the quilts. He glanced at Lilly. “I’ve got to take her gown off . . .”
“Yes,” she said.
He was quick and gentle, wrapping her mother’s limbs close to her body with the foil. “It acts as a heat conductor,” he explained. “Keeps heat in as well.” He continued the foil wrapping all the way up around her head, leaving room for her face, then he piled back on the quilts and picked her up.
“You’re coming, of course. Put a coat on over that gown and let’s go.” Lilly pulled on her cloak and bundled her hair down the back of her neck, inside the wool. She rammed her feet into a pair of boots, then realized that she still clutched her mother’s nightgown of summer cotton. She followed the doctor out to where Jacob waited with the buggy.
CHAPTER 31
Here, drink this.”
Jacob slid a Styrofoam cup into Lilly’s hands and watched until she took a sip of the hot chocolate. They were in the Lockport Hospital’s ICU waiting room and had been there for an incredibly long two hours without news.
Grant Williams paced the hall, obviously not wanting to disturb them, and Jacob was grateful for his consideration.
Lilly sat still and straight, her slender hands still holding her mother’s nightgown. He tried to hug her, but she wouldn’t relax, so he just sat beside her. They were alone in the room, and he prayed the passing time would not bring bad news. Grant had mentioned something about possible organ damage.
“She must have been walking in her sleep,” Lilly said.
“What?” It was the first full sentence she’d said in an hour, and he stared into her blue eyes, huge in her white face.
She looked at him and spoke matter-of-factly. “My mamm . . . somehow she must have been walking in her sleep.”
He took a deep breath, then turned away from her for a moment, slowly shaking his head. “No, Lilly.”
“What do you mean, no?” she snapped.
He looked back at her and watched as her cheeks filled with angry color.
“Lilly . . . I don’t think this was an accident.”
“Of course it was.” Her bottom lip quivered. “Of course it was.”
He felt his eyes well with tears and reached to draw her close. She yanked herself away from him. “Don’t touch me.”
He let her be, just once brushing her hand. He waited.
She drew a shuddering breath. “Her gown . . . it’s a summer one.”
“I know.”
“It’s just so silly . . . her choosing a summer gown on Christmas day . . .” Her voice broke and she curled into herself, drawing her knees up and rocking slightly.
He moved to gather her to him, and this time she collapsed against his chest. He ached to absorb her pain, to take it from her somehow.
“Lilly, it’s going to be all right.”
She pulled back to stare up at him. “How could she do that? How could she . . . I should have known. I thought something was wrong earlier . . . I might have stopped her.”
“Nee, this has nothing to do with you.”
“She seemed so happy—”
She broke off when a man cleared his throat.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wyse . . . I’m Doctor Parker.”
Jacob rose to shake the Englisch man’s hand while Lilly visibly composed herself and straightened upright on the couch.
“Would you mind if I pull up a chair?”
Jacob grabbed a plastic-backed chair. “Here, doctor. Please sit down.”
“Thank you.”
Jacob sat back down and caught Lilly’s hand in his own.
“Mrs. Lapp is going to be fine . . . physically,” Dr. Parker began.
Lilly stiffened next to him, then spoke.
“Physically, doctor?”
“Yes, her vital signs are good. There is no organ damage that we can find. She’s come around a bit. We’ll have to watch her, of course, but, as I said, I believe her to be out of danger at the present.”
“That’s good news, Doctor,” Jacob said, waiting for the rest as he studied the concern in the other man’s eyes.
“Do either of you happen to know why she was outside? Dr. Williams said she was wearing a summer gown.” He glanced at the fabric Lilly clutched in her lap.
Jacob squared his shoulders. “We understand that this was not a mistake.”
“I don’t understand,” Lilly said firmly. “She was gut today . . . eating well, talking . . .”
Dr. Parker nodded. “Yes, unfortunately that is sometimes the case when someone has made the decision and come up with a plan. They almost feel relieved, released somehow that their pain will soon be over.”
“My mother had no plan. We’d just entertained visitors.”
“Mrs. Wyse, how long has your mother been depressed?”
“She . . . she’s not been the same since my father died. That was two years ago.”
“I see.”
Jacob exhaled. “Doctor . . . we . . . we just thought that she was changed by her husband’s death. Feeling poorly, you might say. Is there . . . is there something else we might have done, that we could do to help her?”
Dr. Parker spoke gently. “Please, don’t blame yourselves. I’ve lived in this area for nearly twenty years and I have a great deal of respect for your people and your ways. Because of who you are and how you live, clinical depression doesn’t t
ypically occur in your community at the rate that it does in the outside world. But it does occur, and it’s a very real illness. Yet it’s one that responds well to medicine and to proper counsel.”
“To medicine?” Lilly asked. “I . . . I don’t know . . .”
“Mrs. Wyse, please don’t be afraid of the medications. They are very effective and can make all the difference in someone’s life—sometimes the difference between wanting to live and wanting to die. And, in addition to that, medicine can help improve a person’s quality of living, their daily life.”
“I see.”
Jacob felt her turn to him and he looked down into her tearstained face. “Lilly, we’ve got to try and help her. Derr Herr gives a doctor wisdom and medicines that work. Should we turn our backs on that blessing?”
She shook her head and then faced the doctor. “Please do whatever you can . . . I . . . I want my mother to have a better life.”
Dr. Parker smiled. “We’ll keep her here in the hospital for a time. Our fourth floor houses an inpatient mental health care unit. She’ll stay for two weeks so that we can stabilize her medication and provide her with therapy before you take her home. I appreciate your support, Mrs. Wyse, Mr. Wyse.” He shook their hands and then walked from the room. He paused briefly to talk with Grant, then continued down the hall.
Lilly sighed aloud and her voice quivered. “I pray this is right, Jacob.”
“It is, Lilly. You will see.”
CHAPTER 32
To Lilly’s great surprise, over the ensuing two weeks, the community arose as one gentle, palpable force to bring help and solace and hope to her family. She was greatly humbled by the outpouring of visitors, food, and compassion. It wasn’t that she did not expect the best from her people, but issues of mental health seemed seldom discussed or even heard of. She hadn’t thought anyone would understand.
Bishop Loftus, for all of his age and distinct ideas, was of a particularly progressive frame of mind when it came to mental health. He made sure that Lilly could feel good about not having to visit the hospital each day by making a schedule of other women to go in her stead. And he contacted a mental health organization in Lancaster, established by and created for those Old Order Amish who struggled with depression and other mental health issues. A representative would come to the area and provide counseling at the hospital for her mother and then find similar lay support in the community.
In all of this, Lilly gave thanks. Especially for Jacob’s stalwart presence and openness to talk and be supportive about her mother. His responsiveness revealed a depth and reservoir of grace that she’d only seen before in her father.
Jacob smiled when she’d confided this one evening after dinner. “You have the heart of grace, my fraa, which is why you can see good things in me.”
Lilly had felt her cheeks glow with pleasure and kissed his handsome cheek.
It was just before Old Christmas, or the observance of the Epiphany, when the community began to circulate word that a new family was moving into the small, vacant Stahley farmhouse less than a mile north of the schoolhouse. Grace Beiler, a widow, and her seven-year-old son, Abel, were coming from Ohio to Pine Creek to live. Mrs. Beiler’s husband had drowned in an ice fishing accident that winter.
Grace Beiler was a first cousin of the King family, and everyone in the community strove to prepare the house to make her feel welcome. Early one Friday before school was to resume, Lilly finished some chores that she had at the schoolhouse, then drove the buggy over to help with the cleaning of the place while the menfolk saw to the roof and other repairs.
When she entered the small kitchen, it was already a hive of activity. The women were having a vrolijk, a time of working and socializing together, and they welcomed Lilly with warmth into their midst.
Mrs. Stolis was painting the white drywall of the kitchen a soft peach color. She handed Lilly an extra brush. “How’s your mamm these days, child?”
Lilly was aware of the interested but kind ears listening for her reply so she gave a noncommittal shrug. “Better. Danki. She should return home in a week or so.”
Mrs. Stolis smiled and nodded as Lilly focused on her brushstrokes and trying not to get paint on her apron.
The sound of someone jostling through the front door of the house came through to the kitchen, and Lilly heard Seth Wyse’s voice. She wondered where Jacob was in all the busyness and was surprised by her desire to drop the paintbrush and go have a look for him.
Seth stood in the kitchen archway with a thin piece of wood in his hands.
“Ladies. Peach paint and all as pretty as peaches, I see.” His grin swept the room, and Lilly focused back on her painting. Despite the peace that now reigned in the relationship between her husband and his brother, she thought it wise to remember that she had not been immune to Seth’s empathetic charm and she never wanted to make that mistake again.
“I need to set up a quilting frame, ladies.”
“Going to take up quilting, Seth?” Mrs. Stolis asked while the others laughed.
“Nee, not just yet, but Mrs. King sent me over. It seems the Widow Beiler makes her living quilting, so we’ve got to have a gut frame ready for her.”
“You’ll have trouble fitting it in the front room,” one of the women remarked.
“Well, we’ll give it a try. Jacob’s bringing in the other pieces now.”
Mrs. Stolis laughed and tapped Lilly’s arm. “Do you wonder where Jacob is at every moment, Lilly? That’s what it is to be newly married. I only wonder where James is when he’s late for supper.”
All the women laughed, and Seth cleared his throat.
“Ladies, I’ll be leaving before this conversation gets any more questionable on the value of men and where they are in your lives.”
Mrs. Stolis turned to Lilly when he’d gone and whispered, “I’ve heard it said that he’s a tortured soul . . . longing for true love . . .” She waited expectantly and Lilly struggled not to laugh.
“Ach, so it’s true, I’m afraid, and all his cheerfulness is but a ruse . . .” She let the idea dangle as the women gave a collective soft sigh, and Lilly knew Jacob would have been proud of her.
Come here,” Jacob whispered in an urgent voice.
“What do you want? I’m busy,” Seth said.
“Just get in here.”
Jacob had finished fitting the quilt frame into the front room of the house and now stood outside the small barn, motioning to his brother before anyone might notice.
Seth finally ambled over and Jacob grabbed his arm, hauling him inside the dim interior and sliding the door shut. The men had just finished refitting the barn’s structure and were doing a general cleanup. Jacob turned up a lantern and took a deep breath of the sweet smell of baled hay.
“All right, what’s the big secret? I’m supposed to be helping Father with the upstairs windowsills.”
Jacob reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the primer that Lilly had given him as a wedding gift. He held it out to his brother.
“What’s this? Hey, these sketches are great—and a bit suggestive!” Seth turned the small booklet to better see the pictures, and Jacob smacked his arm.
“Lilly made it for me for our wedding.”
Seth smiled. “No wonder you wanted to strangle me on Christmas Eve. If I’d have known that this is what you two were sharing . . .”
“We’re not sharing any—I mean, she’s supposed to start giving me reading lessons soon.”
“They never had books like this when I was in school.”
“Hey, I’m serious. I really want to try. But I don’t want her to think that I’m completely dumm.”
“Only a little then?”
Jacob sighed and snatched the book back. “Never mind. Go on and help Father.”
“All right, all right. I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?”
“I just thought that if you could teach me some of the words first, that I could memorize them, and then when she tutors m
e, well, I wouldn’t look like a fool.”
Seth was quiet for a long moment. “You never look like a fool, Jacob.” His voice was serious.
“Right—that’s why I write like a boppli, and can’t read, and steal horses, and let girls marry me without any consideration for how they really feel.”
“I mean it. I look up to you.”
Jacob lifted his eyes to meet his bruder’s. “Thank you, Seth.”
“All right, then let’s give this a whirl. You’ll surprise that smart wife of yours and maybe get a few kisses in the process.”
Jacob cuffed him on the shoulder. “You’re a gut little bruder.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
CHAPTER 33
Lilly felt weary but happy at what she and the other women had been able to accomplish in the little house. Once she finished the kitchen, she’d gone on to scrub the hardwood floors, wash the windows, and work at stocking the small pantry to bursting with contributions of canned and dry goods.
She’d been so absorbed in the work that she hadn’t realized that several hours had passed. She slipped on her cloak and went outside. There were still some men working here and there on the porch railing and steps, but there was no sign of Jacob. Then a light from the crack in the barn door caught her eye.
She walked over and would have entered when Seth’s voice, raised in unusual frustration, gave her pause. She glanced over her shoulder, then leaned her ear closer to the door, the better to hear.
“Look, just memorize it already! I am not going to teach you to sound it out first. You’ll just look like a fake. Let her think that you can grasp the whole word! And, Jacob, come on, with these drawings it’s not too tough to figure out the word!”
Lilly nearly jumped when her husband’s voice growled in response. “I know how she thinks. She’s not going to buy it unless I—”
“Unless you what, Jacob?” Lilly stood still in front of the now open barn door as the two brothers scrambled guiltily to their feet from where they’d been sitting on stools near the workbench. They both had their coats off and their sleeves rolled up, and each was flushed with angry color. She watched Seth slip something behind his back.
