by Jo Ann Brown
“How are you doing?” Nathaniel whispered from the seat behind her.
She turned to see him leaning forward. Their faces were only inches from each other. She backed away. Or tried to, because her seat belt caught, holding her in place. When he grinned, she did, as well. It would be silly to try to hide her reaction when it must have been obvious on her face.
“I’ll be glad when this is over,” she murmured, though she needn’t have worried about Jacob. He was too enthralled with Gerry’s opinion of the upcoming World Series to notice anything else.
“Me, too.” His eyes shifted toward the boy. “He hasn’t asked a single question.”
She nodded, knowing he was worried about Jacob. She was, too. Jacob was holding so much inside himself. He must release some of it, or...she wasn’t sure what would happen, but it couldn’t be gut for the boy.
Neither she nor Nathaniel said anything else while the van headed along Route 30 toward Lancaster. When Gerry pulled into a parking lot in front of a four-story white building, she saw a sign pointing ambulances to the emergency room. She looked at the rows of windows that reflected a metallic blue shine, and she wondered if Jacob’s onkel was behind one of them.
Gerry stopped in a parking spot that would have been shaded by some spindly trees in the summer. Now sunlight pushed past empty branches to spill onto the asphalt. He shut off the engine.
“When will you want to return?” Gerry asked, reaching to turn on the radio. The sounds of voices discussing the upcoming baseball games filled the van.
“We shouldn’t be more than an hour,” Nathaniel said.
“Take all the time you need. I don’t have anywhere else to be the rest of the afternoon.”
“Danki,” he said, then quickly added, “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Gerry folded his arms on the wheel and looked at where Jacob was staring at the hospital. “Like I said, take all the time you and the boy need.”
Nathaniel got out first. Esther was glad for his help, and she had to force herself to relinquish his hand before they walked through the automatic doors. Jacob was delighted with how they worked with a soft whoosh, and she guessed he would have liked to go in and out a few more times. Instead, Nathaniel herded him toward a reception desk.
Esther followed. She was uneasy in hospitals, but found them fascinating at the same time. People who came to them were often sick to the point of dying, and she despised how they must be suffering. On the other hand, she was impressed and intrigued by the easy efficiency and skill the staff showed as they handled emergencies and wielded the machinery that saved lives.
The receptionist looked over her dark-rimmed glasses as they approached. “May I help you?”
“We’re here to visit Titus Fisher,” Esther said quietly. “Can you tell us which room he’s in?”
“Are you family?”
“Jacob is.” She glanced at the boy who was watching people go in and out the doors.
“Let me see which room Mr. Fisher is in.” She typed on the keyboard in front of her, then said, “Mr. Fisher is in the ICU.”
Jacob, who clearly had been listening, frowned. “I see you, too, but what about my onkel?”
“ICU means the intensive care unit,” Esther explained.
“Oh.” The boy tapped his toe against the floor, embarrassed at his mistake.
“Don’t worry, young man,” the receptionist said with a compassionate smile. “We’ve got lots of strange names for things here. It takes a doctor almost ten years to learn them, and they keep inventing new ones.”
That brought up Jacob’s head. “Doktors are really smart, ain’t so?”
“Very, so the rest of us can’t be expected to know the words they use right away.” Turning to Nathaniel and Esther, she said, “The ICU is on the third floor.” She pointed to her right. “The elevator is that way. When you reach the third floor, follow the signs marked ICU.”
“Danki,” Esther said, and hoped the receptionist understood she was more grateful for her kindness than for the directions.
Nathaniel led the way toward where three elevators were set on either side of the hallway. He told Jacob which button to push, and the boy did, his eyes glowing with excitement as the elevator went smoothly to the third floor.
Jacob faltered when it came time to step out. Esther looked at him and saw his face was ashen. The full impact of where they were was hitting him. Did he remember similar hallways and equipment from his long stay in the hospital? She wanted to take him in her arms and assure him everything would be all right. She couldn’t.
“Let’s go,” Nathaniel said, his arm draped around Jacob’s shoulders.
When Jacob reached out and gripped her hand, Esther matched her steps to the boy’s. She glanced at Nathaniel. His jaw was tight, and he stared straight ahead.
The ICU didn’t have rooms with doors like the other ones they’d passed. Instead, one side of each room was completely open, so anyone at the nurses’ desk could see into it. Some had curtains drawn partway, but the curtains on most were shoved to one side. Monitors beeped in a variety of rhythms and pitches. Outside each room, a television monitor displayed rows of numbers as well as the ragged line she knew was a person’s heartbeat. Everything smelled of disinfectant, but it couldn’t hide the odors of illness.
A nurse dressed in scrubs almost the exact same shade as the pink Rollerblades came toward them. “May I help you?”
“This is Jacob. He’s Titus Fisher’s great-nephew,” Nathaniel explained.
Sadness rippled swiftly across the woman’s face before her professional mask fell into place. “Follow me,” she said. As she walked past the nurses’ station, she explained to the other staff members the visitors were for Titus Fisher. When she continued toward the far end of the ICU, she added over her shoulder, “Usually we allow only two visitors at a time in here, but when children visit, we like having both parents here.”
Esther opened her mouth to reply, then shut it. If the nurse discovered they weren’t Jacob’s parents, they might not be able to stay with him. She glanced at the boy. He was intently watching the monitors, his face scrunched as he tried to figure out what each line of information meant.
“Here you go,” said the nurse as she pulled aside a curtain.
Stepping into the shadowed room, because there was no window, Esther looked at the bed. She’d rarely seen Titus as he seldom attended a church Sunday, but she hadn’t expected to see him appearing withered on the pristine sheets. Tubes and other equipment connected him to bags of various colored solutions as well as the monitors.
Jacob’s hold tightened on her hand. She winced but didn’t pull away. He needed her now. When his lower lip began to quiver, Nathaniel put his arm around the boy’s shoulders again. They stood on either side of him, and she guessed Nathaniel’s thoughts matched hers. They wished they could protect Jacob from pain and grief and fear.
“Your onkel is asleep,” she said in not much more than a whisper. If she spoke more loudly, she feared her voice would break. She didn’t want to frighten the kind more.
“He sleeps a lot,” the boy said.
“This is a special kind of sleep where you can talk to him, if you want.”
Jacob’s brow furrowed. “What kind of sleep is that?”
Before she could answer, Nathaniel asked, “You know how you talk to the alpacas and they understand you, though they can’t talk to you?”
The boy nodded, his eyes beginning to glisten as they did whenever the conversation turned to the alpacas.
“It’s like that,” Nathaniel said. “Right now, your onkel isn’t able to answer you, but he can hear you. Why don’t you talk to him?”
“What should I say?”
“You could tell him how much you love him,” Esther suggested.
“That�
��s mushy stuff.” His nose wrinkled.
Esther smiled as she hadn’t expected she’d do in the ICU. “Then tell him about the alpacas. That’s not mushy.”
The boy inched toward the bed and grasped the very edge of it. He was careful not to jar any of the wires or tubes, and he gave the IV stands a scowl. Again she wondered what he’d endured when he’d been in the hospital after his parents were killed.
“Onkel Titus,” he began, “I got my stuff and took it to Nathaniel’s, and some things fell into the hole when a stair broke. Otherwise, nothing’s been touched. All your bags and boxes—except for the ones that fell in the hole—are there just as you like them.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her and Nathaniel, then went on. “I’m staying with Nathaniel Zook. Do you remember him? He used to live in Paradise Springs when he was a kid. He’s back now, and he’s got alpacas!” The boy’s voice filled with excitement as he began to outline in excruciating detail how he was helping take care of the herd and his efforts to get them to trust him.
Esther was glad for the shadows in the room so nobody could see the tears filling her eyes as she gazed at the boy who was brave and loving and compassionate. She wished she had his courage and ability to forgive. Maybe...
She kept herself from looking at Nathaniel. If things had been different. If things were different.
Things weren’t different. He was walking out with Katie Kay, and he was her friend...just as she’d asked him to be.
But she knew it wouldn’t be enough, and she’d thrown away her chance at love by ignoring her heart.
* * *
Nathaniel said nothing as he held the curtain open for Esther and Jacob. The boy was once again holding on tightly to her hand. Esther’s taut jaw was set, and he couldn’t ignore the tears shimmering in her eyes. He couldn’t say anything about them, either. He didn’t want to bring Jacob’s attention to them or embarrass her in the ICU.
What he truly wanted to do was draw her into his arms and hold her until they both stopped shaking. Until he’d stepped into that room, he’d harbored the hope Titus would recover. Now he knew it was impossible. The elderly man hadn’t reacted to anything while they were there, and Nathaniel knew that while Titus’s body might be alive, his mind was beyond recovery.
In the elevator going down to the main floor, he sought words to comfort Jacob and Esther. He couldn’t find any. He wasn’t sure there were any, so he remained silent as they walked out of the hospital and toward the white van.
Gerry must have read their faces because he got out and opened the doors without any comment. Jacob claimed the middle bench, and Esther sat with Nathaniel. As soon as they were buckled in, the van started for Paradise Springs.
They hadn’t gone more than a mile before Jacob curled up on the seat. The emotions he hadn’t shown in the ICU were like a shadow over him. When Esther began to talk to him, Jacob cut her off more sharply than Nathaniel had ever heard him speak to her. Shortly after, the boy fell asleep, exhausted from the visit.
Nathaniel turned to Esther whose gaze was focused on the boy. “Danki for coming with us,” he whispered. “I wasn’t sure how he’d handle seeing the old man.”
As he did, she chose words that wouldn’t intrude on Jacob’s slumber. “He handled it better than either of us.” Her voice caught. “He’s too familiar with how quickly life can be snuffed out like a candle.”
“Yet he knows when the old man dies, he’ll have no place to go.”
She faced him. “He does have a place to go. He’s with you.”
“He’s welcome to stay at the farm for as long as he wishes, but he needs someone who knows how to be a parent. That’s not me.”
“You’re doing a great job.”
He gave a soft snort to disagree. “I depend on those witless beasts my grossmammi bought to keep him entertained. Otherwise, I don’t know what I’d do. He’s becoming more skilled with them than I’ll probably ever be.”
“You’d have managed to help without the herd.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in me.”
“I do, but I also have a lot of faith God arranged for him to be at the best possible place when his on—the old man was taken to be monitored.” She corrected herself with a glance at the boy. “God’s plans for us are only gut.”
This time, he managed to silence his disagreement. If God’s plans for His kinder were only gut, then why had Nathaniel lost his hope of being a daed? He appreciated every day he’d been given, and he enjoyed having Jacob living with him in that big farmhouse. He was grateful the boy had found happiness as well as frustration with the alpacas. However, the boy was also a reminder of everything Nathaniel wouldn’t have in the future.
Chapter Twelve
The day of Ezra and Leah’s wedding dawned with the threat of clouds on the horizon, but by the time the service was over shortly before noon, the sun was shining on the bride and groom. Almost everyone in the district had come to the farm for the wedding, as Mamm had hoped.
After the service, Esther sat with her brother and new sister-in-law at a corner table among those set in front of the house. Everyone was excited to celebrate the first wedding of the season, especially one so long in the making. She smiled as she watched Ezra and Leah together. They were in love, and her brother had waited for ten years for Leah to return from the Englisch world. They deserved every ounce of happiness they could find together.
It was delightful to sit with them as food was served. Stories ran up and down the tables as the guests shared fond and fun memories of the newlyweds. Leah’s niece Mandy and Esther’s niece Debbie could barely sit still in their excitement, and more than one glass of milk was tipped over among the younger guests.
Mamm was just as happy. She’d had a broken arm and couldn’t do much when Joshua, Esther’s oldest brother, had married for the second time earlier in the year. She was trying to make up for that with Ezra’s wedding as she talked to the many guests and made sure everyone had plenty to eat.
The day sped past, and Esther saw Nathaniel and Jacob in the distance several times. When she noticed Jacob joining other kinder for games in the meadow beyond the barn, she was relieved. She hadn’t seen him since they went to the hospital. She’d agreed with Nathaniel that a few more days skipping school might help the boy. Now she was glad to discover he hadn’t become traumatized and withdrawn again.
Jacob wasn’t the only subject she wanted to discuss with Nathaniel, but she never had a chance to talk to him. During the afternoon singing, she’d been in the kitchen with Mamm, her sister and other volunteers while they washed plates from the midday meal and readied leftover food for dinner. The married or widowed women had urged her to join the singles for the singing, but she’d demurred after seeing Nathaniel walk into the barn with Katie Kay and Celeste. She didn’t want to watch him flirting with them while they flirted with him.
Now the guests were leaving, and she hadn’t even said hello to him. She stepped out of the kitchen and huddled into her shawl as the breeze struck her face. It was going to be cold tonight. Looking around the yard, she spotted several men standing near the barn where the buggies were parked.
Through the darkness, she could pick out Nathaniel. Her gaze riveted on him as if a beam of light shone upon his head. There was something about how he stood, straight and sure of himself, that always caught her eyes. Her heart danced at the thought of having a few minutes with him. Just the two of them. She waited for her conscience to remind her that friendship should be all she longed for from him.
It was silent, and her heart rejoiced as if it’d won a great battle.
Esther hesitated. Maybe she should stay away from him while her brain was being overruled by her heart. She might say the wrong thing or suggest she’d changed her mind.
But you have!
Ignoring that small v
oice of reason, she came down off the steps, but had to jump aside as a trio of young women burst out of the night. They were giggling and talking about the men who were taking them home. When she recognized them as Katie Kay, Celeste and her own cousin Virginia, she greeted them.
They waved with quick smiles, but were intent on their own conversation. Esther flinched when she heard Nathaniel’s name, but she couldn’t tell which one spoke it because they’d opened the door and the multitude of voices from the kitchen drowned out their words. She assumed it was Katie Kay. She squared her shoulders and crossed the yard. Clearly, if she wanted to speak with Nathaniel she needed to do so before he drove away with the bishop’s daughter.
Again she faltered. Should she skip talking with him? No, she needed to know how Jacob was doing because he would be returning to school tomorrow. Because she was racked with jealousy—and she couldn’t pretend it was anything else—didn’t mean she could relinquish her obligations to her scholars.
The thought added strength to her steps as she left the house lights behind and strode toward the barn. She’d reached the edge of the yard when she heard a voice.
“Guten owed,” said someone from the shadows.
Esther peered through the dark, wondering who’d called a “good evening” to her. Her eyes widened when Alvin Lee stepped out into the light flowing from the barn door in front of her. He hadn’t attended church services or any other community function since the last time she’d spoken with him, the night she refused to be part of his reckless racing any longer.
There was no mistaking his bright red hair and his sneer. He used that expression most of the time. He had on the simple clothes every Amish man wore, but everything was slightly off. His suspenders had shiny clips peeking out from where he’d loosened his shirt over them. His hair was very short in the style Englischers found stylish and the faint lettering of a T-shirt was visible beneath his light blue shirt. She couldn’t read the words, but the picture showed men wearing odd makeup and sticking out their tongues. She guessed they belonged to some Englisch rock-and-roll band.
