by Beth Wiseman
Noah couldn’t imagine what his brother was feeling. Samuel had already lost a wife to cancer—and now this.
“He’ll need things while he’s here, no?” Samuel asked after taking a deep breath. “A toothbrush and things like that?”
Not at the top of the priority list right now, Noah thought, but obviously Samuel needed a distraction. “Ya, that would be gut,” Noah answered softly. Samuel looked perplexed at Noah’s choice of wording. “I’ll drive you to the farm if you want to pick up some things for David.”
At first it appeared Samuel would decline the offer, but after he glanced into David’s room and saw Carley holding Anna with her arm around Lillian, he reconsidered.
“Do you want to go now, while David is sleeping?” Noah asked.
Samuel nodded.
Noah was hoping to see the inside of Samuel’s home. He waited for an invitation that didn’t come. Instead, Samuel quickly exited the car and headed toward the house without saying a word. Noah waited by his car. It had been a quiet ride from the hospital.
“Samuel,” Noah called after him, “you might want to get some clothes and things for you and Lillian too.”
Samuel kept walking but nodded acknowledgment.
“Do you need help with anything?”
Samuel shook his head.
Noah glanced around the yard. “What about outside? Anything need to be done with the horses?”
Samuel didn’t turn around as he walked up the porch steps. Again he just shook his head.
Noah wished he had something to do. Anything. Helplessness was webbing around him, suffocating him.
Samuel returned more quickly than Noah expected, toting only a small tan knapsack.
“Is that all you need?” Noah knew that at a time like this, it was easy to forget things. “What about medications or anything like that?”
“I have all we need.” Samuel continued toward the passenger door.
Noah waited until they had pulled onto Lincoln Highway before he said anything. “Samuel, I’m going to help you all get through this. I’ll do whatever I can to make things—”
“We don’t need your help.” Samuel sat taller and stared straight ahead, tightly clutching the knapsack in his lap.
Maybe this wasn’t the time, or maybe it was the perfect time—either way, Noah couldn’t help himself. “Samuel, we’re family. No matter what. You can’t change that, even if you want to. Let me help.”
Samuel’s blue eyes darkened, and his words pierced Noah to the core. “We are not family.”
“I’m afraid, my brother, that we are.” Noah knew there was too much going on to let bitterness creep in. He silently reprimanded himself and tried to make amends, something he always seemed to be doing. “I don’t want to fight with you, Samuel. I just want to help.”
Samuel didn’t respond and continued to stare ahead. Noah didn’t have the heart to push the issue. He knew Samuel was burdened with more than he could possibly understand or say grace over.
Noah assumed it would be a silent trip back to the hospital. He was surprised when Samuel spoke up. “Please stop there.” He pointed to a bakery on their right.
“What for?”
“My niece Linda works there. She will get the word to the rest of the family.”
“She’s my niece too,” Noah muttered as he turned into the parking lot.
Samuel didn’t respond.
After Samuel made a quick trip into the bakery, they continued on. The ride passed as Noah expected it would—in silence.
David was sleeping, hooked up to every contraption imaginable, including a dialysis machine. The lifesaving device was five feet tall and four feet wide, with all kinds of buttons and switches and a computer screen. It featured a round filter about two feet long and as wide as a baseball. David had looked horrified when they brought the machine into the room.
Carley thought herself to be fairly hospital savvy, but she didn’t even recognize some of the other gadgets surrounding the bed. Large tubes, wires, and monitors draped across David in an abstract mass of modern technology. The equipment conjured unwelcome memories that caused her to shudder. She gritted her teeth and tried not to think about it.
Carley sat beside Lillian in chairs pulled close to the bed. She watched her friend nervously rocking back and forth with Anna in her arms, and she wondered what she could do to help.
She could only think of one thing that might make Lillian feel better, despite her own reservations.
“Let’s pray together.” Carley offered Lillian her hand.
Lillian was too weary to even show surprise at such a suggestion coming from Carley, and she merely leaned over and rested her head on Carley’s shoulder. The two women huddled together with Anna. After a moment it became clear that Lillian was waiting for Carley to offer up the prayer. In all the years Carley had known Lillian—they had dined out, shopped, gone to movies, stayed up all night talking, and done all the things good friends do—they had never prayed together. There had never been discussions about God.
“God, please bless David and this family,” Carley began slowly. “Please give them all strength through the power of Your love. Please wrap Your arms around them all in a blanket of faith, hope, and protection. May there never be doubts about what a good and wonderful God You are, despite this hardship before them. May Your grace surround all of us and heal this child.” Carley paused. She was unsure where the words were coming from, and she felt a knot building in her throat. “And, God, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. Please forgive me for—” Her voice cracked.
“He already has, Carley,” Lillian whispered. She gave Carley’s hand a comforting squeeze.
Being around Lillian and her family, and even Noah, had awakened things long dormant in Carley. She had lost touch with God a long time ago. When she turned to Him after the accident, she remembered feeling unworthy to ask Him to help her—but angry just the same when things unfolded the way they did.
What exactly does trusting God’s will mean? And how do the Amish, and Noah, do it with such ease?
Lillian’s head was still resting on Carley’s shoulder when Carley briefly locked eyes with Anna. Blinking back sleep, the baby squirmed slightly in Lillian’s lap, and Lillian raised her head. She pulled the baby close to her chest, close to her heart, and whispered, “It’s all right, precious.”
Anna’s eyes quickly slid from Carley’s at the sound of her mother’s voice. What must it feel like to love like that? Carley wondered, watching Lillian and her child. She would never know. If only the wooden spike that pierced her abdomen had gored her an inch to the left or right, maybe she would be able to have children of her own.
She watched Lillian and her daughter and recalled her relationship with her mother. Not a day went by that she didn’t miss the friendship they had shared. Why was God denying her the privilege of motherhood? Somehow she needed to find peace about this.
David coughed. Carley watched Lillian tense and take a deep breath.
Why this? Why David? Surely Lillian was asking God these questions. Things had just become so good for Lillian. Carley wondered if Lillian felt cheated. Did God offer up something good, only to let something bad happen? Was He always testing?
Lillian turned her head toward Carley and smiled. “I’m so incredibly blessed.”
There was no “Why this? Why me? Why David?” No bitterness. Just Lillian smiling. Carley attempted to smile back at her, but she was thinking about how different she was from Lillian, who appeared to always focus on the good stuff.
“I thank God for everything in my life.” Lillian reached across the bed and touched David’s hand.
Carley nodded in agreement. A silent lie. She hadn’t been thankful for much of anything lately. Only bitter.
Maybe it was time to rethink her relationship with God. Maybe He had a different plan for her.
Anna drifted off to sleep in Lillian’s lap and the women sat quietly.
Carley wa
s trying to imagine what David must be feeling in this foreign place. All the strange machines, the IV, and tubes everywhere. It would be a lot for any thirteen-year-old to handle. But she knew it was even more frightening for an Amish boy who didn’t venture to the city often,
Carley and Lillian both turned when they heard footsteps coming into the room. Samuel slowly approached his son’s bedside and removed his straw hat.
Carley assumed they might like some time alone with their son, so she excused herself. Noah was sitting in a chair outside the room, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging low. He looked up when he heard the door close.
Carley took a seat in the chair next to him. “How did it go with Samuel earlier?”
“As I expected it would. He didn’t say much. I tried not to push too much. Samuel has a lot ahead of him.”
“I wonder if Lillian and Samuel will stay here tonight. I guess I could take Anna home.”
“How is Lillian holding up?”
“She’s weepy, as expected. Noah, I don’t understand how this happened. How can someone go into full-blown kidney failure without some sort of warning?”
Noah shrugged. “David was born with dysplasia. It doesn’t present itself until puberty. With this condition, usually the only symptoms are anemia, high blood pressure, and vomiting. By the time the symptoms become apparent, the patient usually has end-stage renal disease.”
“Well, there’s not much for me to do here right now. I can probably be of better use if I take Anna home and see about keeping the household running.”
“Some vacation, huh?” Noah frowned.
“I just want to help.” She just wanted away from the hospital—the smell, the beeping of monitors, the paging of doctors, all of it. “Are you going to go in and see David?”
“No. Not now. Samuel has enough to deal with. I’ll check on David when they aren’t around. Plus the renal team will fill me in on everything.” He paused. “Maybe I’ll swing by later, if that’s all right and David seems stable.”
Carley nodded. “Guess I’ll go see about taking Anna home, then.”
It was nearing eight o’clock when Carley arrived at the farm. Anna had been sound asleep since they hit the highway in Lancaster City. She gently lifted Anna from the baby carrier and headed toward the house. As expected, both Samuel and Lillian were staying the night at the hospital. Both seemed relieved she was taking Anna home.
She entered through the kitchen, grabbed the large flashlight kept on a shelf by the door, and shined it ahead of her. Then she made her way to the couch and laid Anna on her back. She pulled the playpen from its resting place against the wall and set it up as quietly as she could. She wasn’t comfortable leaving Anna alone in Samuel and Lillian’s room in her crib, so she thought she’d sleep on the couch with Anna nearby in the playpen. She suspected it would be a long night, and if she set the playpen up in her room upstairs, she might not hear Noah arrive.
Carley kicked off her tennis shoes once Anna was all settled. Her white sneakers stood out against the pile of black leather shoes next to the door. She shuffled in her socks across the wooden floor and into the kitchen, where she found the box of matches Lillian kept in the cabinet. She lit two lanterns and placed one on the counter and one on the kitchen table. The aroma of freshly baked bread still permeated the room, a smell she wished she could bottle and take back to Houston with her.
Houston. Matt. She realized she’d never called her editor. She really didn’t feel like making the call, but she knew she should lay the groundwork for what she felt was coming.
“Well, hello, stranger,” Matt said upon hearing her voice. “I’ve left several messages for you. I figured you were still mad at me.”
“No, not mad. Just busy.”
“Busy doing what? Milking cows, riding in a buggy? Or are you baking bread and working in the garden?” He chuckled.
Not in the mood for his sarcasm, she replied, “As a matter of fact, I’ve been doing all those things, except for milking the cows. And I like it here.”
Silence for a few seconds.
“Sorry, I’m trying to picture you baking bread and gardening,” Matt joked. “So how’s the story coming?”
“Slow.” She hesitated. “There’s a lot going on here. Lillian and Samuel’s son is sick. He’s in the hospital. I’m actually at home with the baby so they can stay at the hospital with him.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Probably not the vacation you were anticipating.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have been on vacation if I wasn’t forced to be.” She thought for a moment how none of this was aiding her own emotional recovery. Then she cringed at the thought, knowing it was selfish.
“You’ll come back in a couple of weeks feeling refreshed, I’m sure,” Matt said. “Sometimes you just need to distance yourself from a situation for a while. You had a lot hit you all at once, Carley. Your mom, your own injuries, and Dalton.”
“I don’t need to be reminded, Matt. And about that couple of weeks—I don’t know. I might need to stay longer to help Lillian.”
“First I can’t get you to go. Now I’m going to have trouble getting you to come back?” His tone was playful, but Carley knew Matt. He had said a month, figuring it would be long enough. He may not be keen on extending it.
“Well, I don’t know yet,” she said firmly. “I’ll just have to wait and see.”
Carley heard a knock at the door. “Someone’s at the door, Matt. I’ll have to talk to you later.”
Noah looked haggard as he stood at the threshold. “Come on in,” she said, opening the screen door.
When the light from the kitchen lantern shone on him, she noticed the bouquet dangling at his side.
“Do you mind if we just sit on the front porch?”
“It’s more comfortable in here.” She continued to hold the door open, motioning toward the kitchen table. Her eyes drifted to the flowers at his side.
“I will walk into Samuel’s house one day. But it will be because he invited me. Today isn’t that day.”
“Okay.” She stepped onto the front porch and gently closed the screen door behind her, careful not to wake Anna.
“Oh. These are for you.” Noah offered her the flowers.
In the darkness it was hard to see. Carley’s hand brushed against his as she accepted the bundle then leaned toward the faint beam of light streaming from the kitchen. She took in the yellow roses and baby’s breath bursting from within their green wrap. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given her flowers.
“Thank you.”
They stood there gazing into each other’s eyes. It was awkward. Wonderfully awkward.
“You’re welcome,” Noah finally said with a tired smile.
“I’ll go put these in some water.” She pulled her eyes from his and headed back into the kitchen to find a vase. A large mason jar made a nice substitute when she couldn’t locate a vase. She removed the green wrapper, arranged the blooms, and added water. All the while she analyzed Noah’s gesture. He was a complicated man whose medical attributes she had loathed—feared—in others. But on this night, Noah was a far cry from the pushy, arrogant doctor she’d first met.
She recalled his boyish smile when he handed her the flowers and realized her fears about Noah were moving in another direction. One equally disconcerting. She’d been hurt enough. And this had nowhere to go. Noah was all about having a family, and while that was a common goal they shared, it was no longer a possibility for Carley. To speculate about a relationship was futile. If she’d learned anything from her breakup with Dalton, it was that men didn’t stay with women who couldn’t give them what they wanted.
She walked back outside and they each took a seat in one of the wooden porch rockers. Stars twinkled in abundance overhead, unlike in the city. Carley noticed it was a full moon. “Crazy things happen when it’s a full moon,” she said, searching out eyes, nose, and broad grin on the glowing orb, the way she had when she was a c
hild. The man on the moon.
“Crazy things happen when it’s not a full moon. Life is just crazy.” Noah crossed an ankle over a knee, pushing the rocker slightly into motion.
“Did you hear anything else after I left?”
Noah had about two days’ worth of five o’clock shadow. Stroking his stubble, he stared out at the darkness. “No.”
“I’m probably going to extend my stay. I just got off the phone with my editor and put a bug in his ear. I think Lillian will need my help during all this.”
Noah’s eyes met Carley’s. “This situation is horrible. The only bonus is that you’ll be here longer than you planned.”
She caught the compliment but didn’t acknowledge it, glad the night hid the blush rising in her cheeks.
“Lillian and I have been friends for a long time,” she said. “I’m going to help her and her family any way I can.” She paused and reflected on the hardships Lillian had faced. “Lillian’s had a difficult time too. She’s doing great now, but she had a long journey getting here. I hate that this is happening to her family.”
“I’m sure she appreciates that. Her mother showed up at the hospital right before I left.”
“Oh, that’s good. She and Sarah Jane are very close. They weren’t always, but I’m so glad they are now. Moms aren’t around forever.”
“You miss your mom.”
Carley crossed her arms across her chest and gave herself a heave-ho in the rocker. “Yes, I do.” Cutting her eyes in his direction, she added, “And I know you miss your mother, too, Noah. That’s why I have a huge problem with this whole shunning thing. Your mother is alive, and you should be allowed to have a relationship with her.”
Noah started to say something but stopped short when his pocket began to vibrate. He grabbed his cell phone and glanced at the incoming number. “It’s Dr. Bolton.”
12
“IS EVERY THING OKAY?” CARLEY ASKED NOAH WHEN HE hung up with Dr. Bolton.
