by Beth Shriver
Manny hadn’t thought of it, but Lucy’s mamm did carry herself in much the same manner. He was glad all over again knowing Verna was safe and sound at her home. “Jah, you probably feel comfortable.” He smiled, but she didn’t, and he hoped he hadn’t upset her. “If you’re not ready, I understand.”
“Nee, I am. I just got to thinking about my mamm.”
“Gut thoughts?”
“Jah, I learned to love despite my mamm’s ways, and it ended in such a positive way.” She bent her head down to Timmy’s as he slept in her lap.
Manny wondered whether she was thinking those same thoughts for Timmy that she did for her mamm, to love the reality of their relationship, mother and son.
“Where do we start?”
Manny’s mind rushed with thoughts of what he wanted to share with Lucy. He’d hoped and prayed she would come around and give the doctor a chance so they could get Rhoda more help.
Manny stood and placed Rhoda in a bouncy seat. “I want to show you something.” Before she could ask any questions, he went into another room and grabbed a stack of papers from the desk. He took quick steps back to his rocker and sat down.
“What are you so excited about?” She glanced down at the brochures and frowned. “You were assuming I’d say jah.” Her expression made him think she was surprised. Maybe he’d done too much at once, but he couldn’t help it. He’d waited for the right time and felt this was it. If he failed, at least he had tried.
He nodded. “The doctor told me the last time he came that we should be thinking about it. I told you that much. Just not about this information.” He handed her the first page.
She took it and started to read. “A clinic for special children with genetic disorders. I’d hate for the community to have to pay for this.”
“It’s nonprofit. Keep reading.” And she did, while Manny prayed as he watched their two children sleeping.
What do you mean you’re going to see a doctor?” Mammi stood with her hands on her hips. “Is it the babies?”
Fannie answered Mammi’s question before Lucy had a chance to. “It’s little Rhoda, isn’t it?”
“Jah, we are going to see what Doc Kauffman has to say. She’s not gaining any weight, and you know how she fusses and cries. We can’t seem to satisfy her.” Lucy was talking to Mammi but looked at Rhoda. She couldn’t get enough of this little one who both exhausted her and gave her such joy. Lucy had never felt more needed and filled with purpose. But with that came the agony of watching her little girl struggle.
“You should pack, in case they keep you there,” Fannie suggested as she studied Lucy and then Rhoda. “He might want you to stay overnight.”
Lucy rubbed the scar on her cheek and thought deeply about what it would be like to take her away from their haus and stay at the hospital. Fannie didn’t seem fearful of such things. Every time Doc Kauffman was around she stood looking over his shoulder to study his ways. He didn’t seem to mind, the way he did when others started breathing down his neck.
“I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that, being away from all of you and our own home.” Lucy glanced at Manny, who stood next to her.
“No sense worrying about it right now. I can always come back and get what we need, if I need to.”
The lines around his eyes showed worry and lack of sleep. She said a soft prayer for strength and went to pack for the drive.
Manny followed behind her and paused when she laid out some clothes. “Lucy, I thought we should come back home after the visit.” There was a change in Manny’s tone. She glanced up to see him staring at her.
“Fannie said we should get ready, just in case.” She went into the babies’ bedroom and folded the twins’ clothes, wondering how much to bring.
“I think it would be better to keep our family together at our haus, if possible.”
The edge in his voice was new to her. He was a soft-spoken man who didn’t provoke easily, but now she could see his frustration. But she was irritated too, so she let go of his resistance to staying at the hospital. “What if they want us to and we’re not prepared?”
“Why go to all this trouble if we turn around and come home?” His voice quieted. “Let’s take things as they come and not fret over things that don’t need to be done.”
She stopped her packing and stood in front of him. “Don’t fret. We don’t want to make this more stressful than it already is.” She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. She hated to see him worry.
He nodded but didn’t do what she expected when he kissed her forehead, turned on a heel, and walked away. Watching him go only made her more uncertain about whether she should finish what she’d started. She went to the closet to find a bag and suitcase. The distraction helped, but as she folded nighties for Rhoda, her mind drifted back to the last time she’d felt so unsure of her place in the world—shortly before birthing her babies. She’d felt safe, especially with Manny, and here she was worrying again. She could blame it on hormones as Fannie said, but this time was different, and Lucy sensed she was just letting the evil one take over her beautiful little family. But the knowledge did little to make her pause in her busywork. Hands in motion seemed to be the only thing keeping her together.
Lucy thought of just packing for herself and Rhoda to give Manny a rest, but that wasn’t possible with Timmy needing to be nursed. The familiar guilt came over her for thinking of any way that would separate their family, but she pushed it away.
Lord, give me strength.
Would it always be so difficult for little Rhoda? She had heard other women talking about such things, so maybe what ailed her wasn’t as much to worry about as she thought. A rap at the door pulled her back as she realized her eyes were full of tears.
“I brought you my bag if you need another.” Fannie didn’t even pause long enough to know something was wrong and began to gather Timmy’s clothes. “I’ll go with you. Manny will need to keep up the farm. He and I can switch off so you will always have someone with you.”
“Nee, Manny will take us so we can go as a family.” Lucy had her back to Fannie, unable to keep her emotions in check. Her bouncing back and forth between worrying and crying was out of control, and she needed to keep the turmoil in check.
She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and took in a breath. Fannie turned Lucy around to face her. “What is it, Lucy?”
“I don’t know. Fear of the unknown, I suppose.”
“It’s just the baby blues, Luce.”
Fannie barely got the words out before Lucy lost her composure. “It’s not just that, Fannie. It’s just not knowing exactly what’s wrong with my baby.” She wiped her face and lowered her voice. The last thing she wanted was someone else hearing her distress and coming to check on her.
“What do you mean? We understand, Luce. You’ve been through a lot, we all know that.” Fannie closed her eyes and squinted. “I could open a can of worms here by mentioning Sam, but there’s no point. It will get better.” She said it so matter-of-factly that Lucy almost believed it. But no one could possibly know how she felt. She’d seen what other women had gone through during and after having their babies, and it wasn’t like this, not to this extent.
“Manny is a good man. He’ll take care of you and your babies.” Her eyes formed into slits. “And you will let him, even if I have to make you.”
This was the o
ne thing that made Lucy wary of her sister. Once she got involved in something, she took control and made things go her way, which was usually good, but Lucy hadn’t dealt with her for years now and wasn’t sure she liked it as much as she used to. She had been forced to grow and mature into someone who could stand up for herself. Unfortunately that opportunity had come only after Sam was gone, leaving her to fend for herself until Manny came along. It wasn’t fair to him, the way things happened, but that was how it was for both of them, like it or not.
“What are you thinking about?” Fannie hadn’t stopped eying her, watching Lucy wade through her thoughts.
“Looking back, there have been a lot of changes. I’ve changed. I just don’t know if it’s for the better.” She thought of Sam and how beat down she was when Manny came along. Maybe she’d rushed into things with Manny. But how could she have resisted him with his gracious and nurturing ways toward her and now with the babies? What would she have done if he wasn’t there for her? The girls would have been there, but it wasn’t the same as having a father around. Even though he wasn’t their daed, it felt like he was.
“There’s bitterness flowing through you, rightly so, after what’s gone on. But don’t let Manny take the brunt of that.” Fannie’s forehead creased as Lucy took her time to respond.
She resented what her sister was saying, even if she was right. She stood and placed some tiny socks on the bed. “I know you’re just trying to help, but I think enough has been said.” Her voice was even, but not her mood. She’d always admired her sister’s straightforward demeanor, but a lot had happened over the years, and she had her own mind about her. She wasn’t the meek scapegoat she’d once been.
“He’s a good man. You’re fortunate to have him. Maybe someday I’ll be as fortunate.” Fannie said it nonchalantly but sincerely.
Lucy didn’t need to be told she wasn’t appreciating Manny as she should and grunted with thought.
“What was that for?” Fannie’s brow furrowed.
“You’re one to talk. You’re tickled pink every time the doc comes by, but you ignore him.” Lucy grinned, and then stopped Fannie before she could deny it. “And don’t say anything differently. It’s written all over your face.” Lucy watched as her sister stonewalled and distracted herself with folding clothes from a basket by the bed. “You’re not denying it.”
“Is there anything else you want to take?” Fannie placed her hands on her hips and turned each way to examine the room. “If you need anything more, one of us will be there in a moment’s notice.”
“Jah, I don’t doubt that. It’s the unknown I’m worried about. Not knowing is what keeps me up at night.”
“Literally. That’s one good thing about being in a hospital and having nurses help us share the load. You might actually get some sleep.”
“I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night.” Lucy’d had no idea how demanding it would be to nurse two babies. When Manny had offered to help, she’d only laughed and asked whether he could grow breasts, and then they’d both laughed deliriously. Remembering made her smile.
“Okay, let’s go.” Fannie helped her out with the suitcase and sat down next to Mammi. “She’s all ready to go.”
“Are you ready for this?” Mammi’s eyes were soft as they took Lucy in, and Lucy almost felt guilty leaving her. They had become attached to the two little ones, and Lucy knew she was going through withdrawal already.
“Jah, for my baby.”
Fannie frowned. “You mean babies.”
“Timmy isn’t the one I’m worried about. He’s a strong boy.” She looked over at her baby girl. “But we don’t know what’s wrong with Rhoda.” She stopped short and took in a jagged breath.
Rosy had been leaning against the doorjamb. “She’ll be all right, Luce. Even if there is something that needs care, she will still be okay.”
Leave it to Rosy to say the most touching words. She was a delicate soul, and Lucy wondered whether, if she had been bolder with young men all those years ago, if her life would have been different. Lucy nodded and held back tears that were trying to build up. “Danke, Rosy. You’re good to have faith in our little one.”
Nellie held Timmy, who was sound asleep in her lap. Lucy wished Rhoda could rest like he did, but she seemed out of sorts much of the time. Lucy had learned early on as a mother how painful it was not to be able to soothe your child.
Manny came in, rubbing his hands together. “It’s a bit cold out there.” His eyes met Lucy’s. But when she smiled at him, he turned away and went over to Nellie and then stroked Timmy’s cheek.
Nellie lifted Timmy up to Manny. “You want to hold him? I wouldn’t want to take a father’s son from him.”
“I wish I could sleep like he does.” Manny got situated and sat back on the couch as Nellie handed Timmy to him.
Lucy made her way over and sat down next to him, remembering the little joke she’d made about nursing and smiled. She was exhausted, so she didn’t talk but just appreciated the moment—the two of them together, both resting.
She prayed he’d never leave her, and that their babies would grow strong and healthy. And for Manny, because if not for him, she might be raising these babies alone.
Manny paid the English driver and went to the trunk to gather the bags. He’d rather have driven his own buggy but wasn’t sure his family would have been as comfortable. He doubted Rhoda’s cries were from pain, but he wanted her to be as content as possible.
As he set the bags on the sidewalk, Manny studied the building. The clinic was nestled in the heart of Lancaster County, between two Amish farms in Strasburg. From the information he’d read, they had the most comprehensive and affordable care for children like Rhoda. And he prayed to Gott they truly did.
“Let me help with those.” The Englischer offered a hand, and Manny readily accepted. He would need to humble himself into receiving help from others through this and leave his pride back home where he could yell and scream and call Gott out as to why him, and even more, why Rhoda.
“Sir?” The Englischer was watching him as he thought about what was before them. “Go on in. I’ll get these.” The young man did as he promised and went ahead of them to the glass doors. “The admission desk is to your left.” He tilted his head, unable to lift a hand to direct them.
“Danke.” Manny followed the young man’s direction and took Lucy’s arm as they walked to the waiting room. “Wait here.”
Lucy was busy adjusting her bag and setting Timmy’s baby seat on a chair. “Jah” was the only response she gave him, but that was enough.
“Keim is the name. Rhoda . . . she’s my daughter.” He stuttered, uncommon for him, but under the circumstances, it was probably normal at this point in time. To be taking the final step to admit her into a facility that they hoped could help the baby they couldn’t care for made him feel utterly useless, beyond making his family as comfortable as possible and letting the doctors do their work.
The young woman at the desk was talking, so he focused his attention on the words he wasn’t taking in. He glanced back at Lucy and his babies and held up a hand. “Can you please repeat what you’ve said?”
The secretary smiled. “It’s just what I have to say to new patients. Don’t worry. Just take your family to the room to your left, and someone will be there shortly.” She handed him a pamphlet. “This will come in handy. Read through
it when you can.”
He was starving for the information but apprehensive. Would it give him horrible scenarios that would haunt him or overly encourage him into thinking that after a weekend here his little girl would be cured?
With each step he took toward Lucy, he became more frightened. In their home he could take care of their basic needs—food, shelter, and safety, without the worry. And if for some reason he couldn’t, the community was there for them.
“Come this way.” He placed his palm on Lucy’s back, causing her to jump. “It will be all right. They seem like gut people.”
“I hope so.” She put the pink blanket over Rhoda as if hiding her would calm her cries. They were intermittent at the moment. Maybe the babe knew her surroundings had changed or felt the pulse of stress between her and her mamm, her daed, and the new environment.
Manny held Timmy’s baby seat as they walked to the designated room, set down their belongings, and waited.
Within a few minutes, an older gentleman stepped in. Manny recognized him from the pamphlet he’d been given. This man was one of the founders of the facility and was taking the time to meet them as soon as they came in the door. His wore a gray suit jacket and red bow tie. Manny knew he was a respected man here and gave him a nod.
“You must be the Keim family, from the community that had that nasty fire, if I recall.”
“Jah, that would be us.” Manny responded, appreciating that the man remembered the tragedy they’d been through.
“You’re a strong bunch, good things said of you and of helping one another through such events.” He scratched his chin and peered down at Timmy and then set his eyes on Rhoda. “This must be the special one.” He smiled. “Gott bless you, little one.”
Manny heard Lucy’s breath catch, and she held a hand to her mouth. “That’s our little Rhoda.”
