by Beth Wiseman
“Seems you wouldn’t want to be involved in all that, Carley.”
It would be fine with Carley if she never set foot in a hospital again. Just the trip to the emergency room with David conjured up vivid, painful recollections of her time in the hospital. “I wouldn’t want to be involved, Adam, but if I’m needed . . .”
“Let me send you a ticket to come home, Carley. A month is too long for you to be away. And now with all this happening, I think you—”
“Adam—stop. I’m not coming home.”
He continued to try to change her mind. He didn’t.
Noah propped several pillows behind his back and motioned for Chloe to take her position at the foot of the bed. They settled in and he began flipping channels on the TV, not really noticing what was on. It was just something to do until Carley called. His mind was awhirl with thoughts of his family, and his heart was heavy.
Mary Ellen’s rebuff—especially in regard to her children—replayed over and over again in his head. The way she withdrew from the hug and looked around to make sure no one saw her talking to him. That wasn’t the Mary Ellen he remembered. The sister he had known was warm, affectionate, never met a stranger. Had she changed so much, or only with regard to him? Would Ivan and Rebecca respond with the same apathy?
And what about his mother? He wished he could have spotted her at the auction, but now worried her reaction might have mirrored Mary Ellen’s. Surely not. She was his mother, for goodness’ sake.
He crossed his legs, gave up on the channel surfing, and folded his hands behind his head. The image of his brother was clear in his mind. It had pained him to see such worry on Samuel’s face at the mud sale, and the vision furthered his regret at not being around to know the man Samuel had become. Samuel was solid in his faith and stubborn as a mule. But one thing was certain—he loved his children.
The following day would be rough for all of them.
He grabbed the phone on the nightstand after only one ring.
“Hi, it’s Carley. Are you sleeping?”
“No. Chloe and I are all tucked in. I was just waiting for you to call. How is everything over there?”
“No one said anything about David, but, Noah, I did notice he’s really pale, and he has dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t eat much either. Actually, no one did.”
“I can’t get that kid off my mind. As a doctor, we know how to distance ourselves. Clearly, this is different.” Deciding to lighten the mood, he asked, “Are you tucked in under your new quilt?”
“Let’s talk about this quilt,” she said, indicating perhaps she was tucked beneath it. “I can’t accept it, Noah. It costs too much.”
“Consider it repayment for trying to ease the way for me and Samuel.” Fifteen hundred dollars was nothing to him, and Carley sure seemed to want it. He had spied her bidding for it, then noticed she relinquished when the price hit six hundred dollars.
“I wouldn’t say I eased the way very much at all.”
Noah sighed. He didn’t really want to talk about the events of the day. He didn’t want to talk about David’s grim outlook, either, but he should probably prepare her. “Carley, I think Ken—Dr. Bolton—will probably admit David into the hospital tomorrow.”
“I was wondering about that.” Carley sighed. “Lillian broke down tonight. She loves David like he’s her own child.”
“She seems like a good woman. Are they planning to have more children? Amish believe in big families. I guess that part of the culture remained with me, because I can’t imagine not having a bunch of kids running around the house. What about you?”
“Lillian said they want more children. As for me, I don’t think . . .” She stopped midsentence.
“Don’t you want a bunch of little ones running around?” Noah asked.
“More than anything in the world,” she said softly.
“I saw the way you are with Anna. I’m sure you’ll be a great mom someday.”
An awkward silence followed. He cleared his throat. “I’m sure this isn’t how you envisioned your vacation.”
“No, but I’m glad to be here for Lillian and Samuel. It’s just that . . . I really hate hospitals.”
“Hospitals are where lives are saved.”
“Or where lives end.”
The coldness in her tone silenced him for a moment. “Sometimes it’s difficult to understand God’s will.”
“How right you are. I certainly don’t understand it.”
He knew that God was not her favorite subject, so he changed it. “Do they have you up at four thirty helping to milk the cows?”
“There is nothing about a sick child that is God’s will,” she said as if she hadn’t heard him.
“Why is it, Carley, that you say you don’t like talking about God, but every time I give you an opportunity to back out of a conversation about Him, you keep talking about Him?”
“Forget it,” she huffed. “I don’t want to talk about God.”
“I think you do.”
“I believe in God, Noah.”
“I know. I never said you didn’t.”
This was heading down a bad path. Again he tried a new subject. “I’d like to meet you all at Ken’s office tomorrow.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? You know how Samuel feels, Noah.”
“Right now there’s a bigger issue to focus on than me and Samuel.” Besides, David is my nephew.
“I know, but it might make things worse.”
Her voice was sympathetic. He knew she was right, but he also knew he couldn’t stay away. “I’ll think on it tonight.”
Noah heard her yawn and reluctantly told her good night. He wanted to keep talking. He wanted her to listen. He wanted her to understand . . .
The phone clicked and he was alone again with his thoughts.
He flicked off the TV and his bedside lamp. Then he fluffed his pillow and got comfortable. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Samuel, David, and what the next day might bring.
And he couldn’t stop thinking about Carley.
Lillian knew that as worried as she was, Samuel was beside himself. She slid into bed next to her husband and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sure everything will be fine, Samuel.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Ya,” he whispered as she repositioned his arm around her neck. He pulled her close. “I don’t want Noah involved with my family.”
“I know you don’t, Samuel. But he was wise enough to recognize there was something seriously wrong with David. What if he hadn’t diagnosed this?”
Samuel didn’t say anything. They lay quietly for a few minutes.
Lillian tilted her chin upward and saw the whites of Samuel’s eyes when a hint of moonlight streamed into the room. Normally her husband would be sound asleep by now. She draped her arm across his belly. “I love you, Samuel. And I know everything is going to be just fine.”
Samuel stroked her tenderly. “Lillian . . .”
She propped herself up on one elbow and pulled herself closer to him. “Ya?”
Even in the darkness, Lillian could make out the distraught expression on Samuel’s face. “What is it, Samuel?” She felt his chest rising and falling beneath her arm. His breaths were long and labored.
“Why is Noah doing this? Why is he infecting our lives with all this sadness?”
Lillian knew Samuel well enough to know what was happening. Even though he believed with all his heart that all things were God’s will, being human, he still needed someone to blame. “Samuel”—she reached for his hand and intertwined her fingers with his with a squeeze—“you know this is not Noah’s fault. He didn’t make David sick. He just diagnosed the problem.”
“He was just a boy last time I saw him. Not much older than David.”
Such regret in his voice. Lillian wished there was some way to ease her husband’s suffering. “I know,” she whispered.
Samuel turned toward her. With his face barely visible in th
e darkness, she reached up and touched his cheek. Her fingertips came away moist. “Samuel, my love . . .” She wrapped her arms around him.
“If anything were to happen to my boy—”
“David is going to be fine, Samuel.” She squeezed him tighter.
“The good Lord took Rachel. You don’t think He’d see fit to . . . to take David too?”
At a time like this, Lillian knew better than most how easy it was to question God’s will. When her grandmother died, her faith had been shaken, but there was only one answer she was willing to give Samuel. “No, Samuel. God is not going to take David too.”
It was one o’clock in the morning when Lillian awoke to a shuffling noise. She reached across the bed. No Samuel. Light from a lantern across the room drew her eyes to the wooden floor, where Samuel sat amid piles of papers. A wooden box was open next to him.
She sat up in the bed and brushed back tangled strands of hair. “Samuel, what are you doing?”
“I can’t find the letter.” His tone was frantic.
“What letter?”
“The letter from Noah.” He continued to scramble through the papers on the floor, opening envelopes and tossing them to one side.
Lillian knew about the box Samuel stored under the bed—the keeper of his memories. She’d never looked in the box. He had told her once it housed important documents, deeds to the property, and . . . keepsakes from Rachel.
“What letter from Noah?” She was more curious than ever about what Samuel might have stashed in the box.
“I kept one letter.” He scanned a piece of paper and set it aside. “I usually sent the letters back unopened or just threw them away.” He shook his head and looked hard at Lillian. “But there was one letter Noah sent after Rachel died. I kept it and now I can’t find it.”
“Samuel . . .” She walked across the room and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s one o’clock in the morning. Can this wait until later?”
He didn’t answer but pulled another wad of papers from the box.
Lillian sighed. She knew they’d both be exhausted later in the day. “Do you want me to help you look?”
He answered quickly, “No.”
“Then I’m going back to bed.” She turned.
“Lillian.”
“Ya?”
“I’m sorry I woke you. I just need to find the letter.”
She nodded, unsure why a letter from Noah had suddenly become so important.
Carley wasn’t surprised to see Noah in the waiting room of Dr. Bolton’s office the following afternoon. Noah and a man she presumed was Dr. Bolton were deep in conversation.
Noah didn’t offer an explanation about his being there. Instead, he dove right into introductions, beginning with Samuel. “Dr. Bolton, this is my brother Samuel.”
Carley watched Samuel’s eyes cut away as he took a deep, controlled breath and extended his hand to Dr. Bolton. “Hello.”
Noah pointed to Lillian. “And this is his wife, Lillian.”
“Thank you for coming in on a Sunday, Dr. Bolton,” Lillian said in a shaky voice.
Dr. Bolton was considerably older than Noah. Carley figured late fifties. He was a short, stocky figure with hair arched above his ears. Gold-rimmed glasses sat low on his nose. Kind gray eyes smiled at Lillian when he extended his hand to her.
After exchanging introductions with Carley, Dr. Bolton turned to David. “And you must be the man of the hour.” He offered his hand to David. “Did your parents explain to you what is going on?”
“Yes, sir.” David stood a little taller as he shook the doctor’s hand.
“Well, if it’s all right with the rest of you, I’d like to examine David and ask him a few questions. When we get done, we can all sit down and see what we can do to get this young man back in tip-top shape.” Dr. Bolton smiled as he motioned for David to walk ahead of him through the door leading to the examining rooms.
David looked at Lillian with fear in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” she whispered and nodded toward her stepson. “We’ll be right here waiting for you.”
Once David and Dr. Bolton were gone, Noah wasted no time addressing Samuel in a harsh tone. “I know you don’t want me here, Samuel.” There was no mistaking how Samuel glowered at Noah from the moment they arrived. “But like it or not, David is my nephew.”
You’re making a mistake, Carley thought. Way too harsh for beginning a conversation with Samuel.
Lillian stood up when Samuel did. “Samuel . . . ,” she whispered when it appeared Samuel just might buck up to his brother.
Instead, Samuel took a deep breath and backed down.
They took their seats again. And waited. No one said anything else.
Carley caught Noah staring at her from time to time.
Twenty minutes later Dr. Bolton returned to the waiting room alone. Carley recognized right away the gravity of the situation. She had seen that look before when she and her mother were in the hospital. The first time was when they told her that her mother had died. The second time was when they delivered the news to Carley about her own grim future.
“After seeing his test results, I’m amazed that this boy is functioning at all,” Dr. Bolton said. “And based on what he just told me, he’s been feeling bad for a while. He’s in the restroom right now, but David needs to go straight to the hospital. We need to get him started on dialysis right away.” Dr. Bolton paused, giving Samuel and Lillian a strong version of “the look.”
No, Carley thought, remembering back to her time in the hospital. Please. Not bad news.
“Samuel, Lillian, this is end-stage renal disease.”
Lillian’s eyes immediately filled with tears. Dr. Bolton knelt beside her and grasped her hand in his. “You keep your faith, Lillian.” He glanced at Samuel and Carley and then back at Lillian. “Each of you needs to be very strong for this boy.”
The tears continued to stream down Lillian’s face, dripping onto her cotton dress. Anna began to wail, as if sensing the despair all around her, so Carley reached for the baby. She gently eased Anna into her arms before she stood to pace with the screaming little one. Lillian openly wept, and Samuel was trying to console her, but Carley knew his own heart was breaking.
The door flew open. David stood pale and wobbly in the doorway. “Mamm, why are you crying?” As if he knew, his bottom lip began to quiver. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” He walked toward them all and directed his attention first to Dr. Bolton and then to Noah. In a shaky voice he pleaded, “Onkel Noah, am I gonna die?”
Carley could see Noah’s reaction to David calling him uncle. Noah struggled to say the right thing.
“Everything is going to be okay.” Noah reached for David’s arm. Samuel was quickly in between them.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Lillian said, throwing her arms around David’s neck.
“Why are you crying, then?” he demanded. “Someone tell me!”
They were all standing huddled together as Lillian tried to comfort David. “Everything is going to be just fine.”
“That’s right,” Dr. Bolton added. He gave David a pat on the back.
“Everyone stop it! Stop treating me like a child! Tell me what’s going to happen,” he demanded further.
David began to rattle off a round of Pennsylvania Deitsch that Lillian didn’t seem to understand. It was Noah who began to communicate with the boy. Carley had no idea what Noah said to him, but David grew calm. Samuel stood overwhelmed by everything, his feet rooted to the floor, his eyes glassy with worry.
David gathered himself and pulled away from Lillian. He looked long and hard at each of them, finally homing in on Noah. He hesitated, shifted. As David’s eyes rolled back, Noah dove for him, softening his fall as they both went crashing to the floor.
“David!” Lillian yelled, rushing to his side.
Anna screamed louder. Samuel didn’t move.
11
NOAH STOOD WITH SAMUEL OUTSIDE THE INTENS
IVE CARE unit while Carley and Lillian sat with David in the room. Doctors and nurses moved quietly in and out, their unvoiced tension hanging in the air.
Fortunately David had regained consciousness quickly in Dr. Bolton’s office. Noah had called ahead and made arrangements to get David admitted through the emergency room and then put into ICU. Renal dysplasia was confirmed following a renal ultrasound. Now they waited for the dialysis machine to be brought into David’s room.
Noah faced Samuel and summed up the man who stood before him, no longer the boy from their childhood. All the bitterness and hurt he’d harbored for years was buried by the burdens of the moment. Samuel shouldn’t have to go through this.
“Samuel, Dr. Bolton and the renal team are going to talk to you in the morning,” Noah began. “I’ve read David’s chart and talked with Dr. Bolton. Basically, you’re going to have three options. And the first two don’t seem feasible or practical. Option number one is for David to receive dialysis at home. That would require electricity. The bishop would likely make an exception for this.” He paused. “Or David would receive dialysis three days a week here at the hospital. You would have to have rides lined up or try to seek an exception from the bishop on that as well. Both options would run in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars per month.”
Samuel’s jaw dropped as he stumbled backward slightly. Noah took a step forward, but Samuel stretched his hand out, clearly keeping Noah at arm’s length. Samuel sat and rested his hands on his knees, hanging his head. Noah waited while Samuel absorbed the information.
Noah knew dialysis was expensive. The federal government covered about 80 percent of all dialysis costs, and private health insurance usually picked up the balance. The problem was that Amish folks didn’t accept government assistance, nor did they carry private health coverage. They self-insured, with all the members of the community contributing to a fund. Noah doubted they had the kind of money to cover a catastrophic medical expense such as ongoing dialysis.
“Samuel, you can always apply for emergency Medicare,” Noah said. “However, the renal team believes the best option for David is for someone to donate one of their kidneys. There’s a good success rate, and it would give David the best quality of life.”
