by Beth Shriver
“Jah, I know her name. Namesake?”
“Jah, on my mamm’s side,” Manny explained.
“You’ll be well taken care of here. You can hold me to that.” He extended a hand and pumped Manny’s and then Lucy’s.
As he walked out of the room, Manny felt some of his anxiety go as well and sat down next to Timmy’s baby seat. The little guy’s face turned crimson, a good sign he was going to belt out the news that he was hungry. “I think this might be a gut place for us.”
“Jah, I hope so. I’ve never prayed for something as much as I have now.” She held Rhoda close. “Gott wouldn’t take her from us now, would He?”
“We’re gonna be fine. These are gut people, and Rhoda will get better. Have faith, Luce. Have faith.” Manny was telling told himself as much as he was tell Lucy because he was scared to death.
A rap at the door brought them back from their thoughts as a short redhead walked through the door. “I’m Miriam, a registered nurse here. I’m going to take Rhoda’s vitals and then show you to the room you’ll be calling home for a while.”
After she had finished and made her notes, she said, “I can take you to her room.” She led them along the white-floored corridors to settle them in again.
“I don’t like this shuffling around,” Lucy whispered to Manny, trying to keep up with the nurse.
“Nee, it will be over soon enough.” Manny couldn’t think any differently. If he did, it would ruin him, and that couldn’t happen.
“This is where you will stay while working with the doctor. Often the care of a physician on a daily basis helps to reveal new opportunities for treatments.”
“How long does it usually take? We can’t afford to be here for long.” Lucy was swaying from side to side to keep Rhoda content.
“The doctor can give you more information about that once he makes an assessment of your situation, and he can answer any other questions you have. Make yourself at home, and the doctor will be in shortly.” She smiled brightly and left.
Lucy turned to face Manny. “Everyone is sure friendly in this place. I wonder how much we’re paying for that.”
“This is no time to worry about money. The community will help us out if we need them to.”
She sighed. “I’m worried about everything; that’s just one tiny piece of it. I know you’re as worried as I am, but you just don’t show it.”
He took a seat and gently rocked Timmy in his seat, hoping he wouldn’t fuss and want to be held. Manny was just too tired. “This all reminds me of when Glenda was sick. It’s a helpless feeling, and all you can do is wait and hope they pull through.”
They were both silent for a moment. “But she didn’t, and that has to make you more scared than I am, even though that doesn’t seem possible.”
“Still, it isn’t as bleak as all that with Rhoda. I just pray Gott gives her strength to live a decent life.”
“Ach, she will. We’ll make sure of that.” She chucked little Rhoda under the chin and smiled sadly with pinched brows and trembling lips.
Manny felt the need to get busy and organized to take his mind off what was to come. He and Lucy unpacked and took note of where everything was that they needed and what they should have to get situated. Then came a knock at the door. Manny glanced at Lucy and opened it.
“Hallo, Keim family. It’s good to see you here.” Doctor Kauffman almost smiled, as if in relief they were there. “Let’s get started.”
Instead of going to his office, they sat around a table together. The doctor asked questions but mainly listened, not offering any information until they had expressed what they had been through and why they had come. They were out of ideas and knowledge about how to raise a child with a congenital disease. It was nice to talk in Pennsylvania Dutch, as they understood who they were when they spoke their mother tongue with one another.
“If you take away anything from this conversation, I want you to know these diseases are not unique to Plain populations. We receive many diverse families from different backgrounds.”
“One last thing, Doc. We didn’t go over expenses.” Manny hated to ask; it wasn’t talked about, just given when there was a need from where he came.
“We’re nonprofit.” That was all he said and all he needed to, Manny guessed, but it was also just the doctor’s way, blunt and to the point. Manny could see that money was the least of his reasons for being there.
He let out a sigh of relief, as did Lucy. “Danke, again.”
He stood to go and started for the door, stopped as if to ask a question, and then held up a hand and slowly started to shut the door.
“Fannie will be coming tomorrow.” Lucy threw that out of nowhere. If Manny hadn’t heard it from Lucy, he wouldn’t have been sure about what he heard.
Doc Kauffman continued matter-of-factly, as if he hadn’t heard Lucy. “Get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
As soon as the doctor shut the door, Manny and Lucy looked at each other.
“Are you playing matchmaker?” Manny asked Lucy with a grin.
Lucy actually smiled, and Manny decided it was a perfect time for there to be a diversion with all the grief they were going through.
It doesn’t get more peaceful than the farm.” Lucy looked out the hospital room window at the spinning weather vane and white house with black trim next to the clinic. The days seemed to go on and on with no end. Genetic markers that matched up were difficult to detect, and some of the medical conditions were so rare that doctors didn’t even have a name for them yet. Without a name, there was no cure.
“Are you homesick?” Manny came up behind her, and Lucy shuddered at his touch. She couldn’t let herself relax, hadn’t been able for far too long now. How long? Since the day she set foot on Sam’s farm.
She heard Manny let out a breath. He was just as worn out as she was, staying the course as a husband and as a daed to the twins.
“When is there going to be an end to this?” Manny sat on the edge of the double bed and twined his fingers together. His blue eye was unusually dull, penetrating into hers. She didn’t know how to answer his question and, in the midst of everything else going on, didn’t have the patience to deal with it.
“This is us, parents of a child who has special needs. We’re doing what parents do in this situation.” Her words were strong, but not her voice. She felt the tears well up but willed them away. She didn’t have the energy to spend on a conversation right now.
Manny looked down at the floor. He was so still, she wondered whether he’d heard a word she said. He probably didn’t want to. It wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“We need answers.” Manny kept his eyes on the floor, not moving, staring at his boots, which didn’t seem to fit where they were. White hallways and rooms much like a hotel with adequate meals, but nothing like what he was used to back in the community. She thought about how he must be wishing he was outdoors in the fresh air. Even doing chores was better than staying cooped up all day with doctors and nurses who were telling them the next step or procedure they recommended.
“What else can we expect?” But as soon as her words came out, she knew exactly what he meant. Lucy lifted a palm to her head and closed her eyes. On cue Rhoda began to fuss. Then came the cry. It was different than other babies’ cries, different than Timmy’s. Lucy could tell after having lived with it
for weeks on end, and she knew Rhoda was like the others here.
“It’s just like the doctor said. Cohen syndrome.” The crippling disease was a genetic disorder, a handicapping condition.
“Is this Gott’s wille?” He shook his head.
“That’s what the bishop will say and many in the community.” The doctor had prepared them for this, but Lucy had ignored his words, denying it would happen to her or to Rhoda. But in the back of her mind, she analyzed the conditions that the doctor had explained, knowing it fit her baby to the letter.
Manny finally looked up to meet her eyes. “You don’t believe it is?”
“Nee, I don’t.” She held his stare. “Will I be shunned for not believing the church ways?” She held her baby more tightly to her, placing her tiny cheek next to hers.
“You might be, Lucy.” He seemed irritated, but she didn’t care at the moment. She hadn’t had to deal with this way of the Amish until now. It was easy to say to others what they wanted to hear when she believed what she was saying. But now that it was her own daughter, her mind was changed.
“Does that make me a hypocrite?”
Manny dropped his head. “I’m not in the frame of mind to discuss it. We’ll deal with the bishop when need be.”
A knock on the door got Rhoda crying again, and Lucy wanted to join her. She felt she was the worst person on the earth at that moment. An awful wife, worn-out mamm. . . and now going against the church. She could do no right.
Manny stood and walked to the door slowly, as if his legs were bags of corn. As soon as the door opened, the doc walked into the room. “Morning,” Manny said, gesturing to a chair. “Have a seat.” But the doc shook his head and glanced over at Lucy holding Rhoda.
“I’m going to be honest with you and tell you something you already know. There is no cure for your daughter now, but I am hopeful there will be one at some future time.”
“What does that mean for Rhoda?” Manny’s tone was without emotion, straightforward and to the point. The fatigue had gotten to all of them.
“Rhoda will have a host of physical problems. She has a condition that causes retardation. But what I want to share with you is the quality of life she can have.”
“How can you begin to tell us there is any quality at all?” Manny’s nostrils flared, and his face reddened.
“You will make it so. There is no telling how Rhoda will progress. One family with three girls varies from a twenty-four-year-old who functions at a nine-month-old level to a five-year-old performing well enough to join the children at her Amish community school.” Doc paused. “You are her daed, a darn good one taking in these three.” He gestured to Lucy and the babies.
Then he turned to her. “And I hope you appreciate this man as much as you should.”
Lucy knew what she had in Manny and had tried every way to get over her bad side. But it had taken this man standing next to Lucy to call her out on it.
Manny stood abruptly. “I need some space.” He turned and grabbed Timmy’s baby seat, the bottle of breast milk from the refrigerator, and his bag.
“Where are you going?” Lucy could hardly get the words out before he shut the door behind him. When the door clicked, she turned to the doctor. “I can’t believe he just left like that.” But then again, she could. She was feeling the same way he was.
“You just lost the most important piece of this whole situation.” Doc let out the air in his lungs and then stood. “There is hope.”
Without Manny she couldn’t do this—not alone. But then she couldn’t blame him; this had worn their relationship thin. It was just a matter of time before he’d had enough. She was tired too. When would things go back to the way they were?
“Your sister is here.”
Her eyes began to water. “Fannie? Is here?” Lucy tried to stand, but didn’t have the energy. The next she knew, the doctor was gone, and Fannie was by her side, holding her hand and rocking Rhoda.
“You are a mess.” She shook her head, a familiar gesture that was one of Fannie’s condescending ways of warning her that she was about to be whipped into shape.
“What am I going to do?”
“One thing at a time.”
“Manny—”
“Nee, you have to get yourself together first. And let him simmer down. If I were him, I’d run the other way and never come back.” Fannie’s frown and pause meant Lucy was to answer, but Lucy didn’t want to hear the words as to how things had gone.
“You had a lot going for you and your family.”
“I know, I know. Mammi said it was the hormones, and Rosy gave me herbs—”
Fannie shook her head. “Excuses. You had the perfect fit, and if you don’t make some changes, you’ll blow it all away.”
Lucy she was ready for Fannie’s chastising to end. “I’ll fix it. Just give me some time to figure things out.”
“You don’t have time. I heard Doc Kauffman telling a nurse you’d probably be released tomorrow, or, I suppose, whenever you and Manny can sit down together long enough to get through what the doctor needs to tell you before you’re discharged.”
“You mean that’s it? There’s nothing more they can do?”
“They can help you raise your baby girl in the best way possible. There is no magic herb from Rosy, and you can’t blame the change on everything that’s eating at you. You have two beautiful children and an incredible man who would walk on water to make you happy.” She lifted her brows. “Take it and make it right.”
Lucy wiped away the tears and looked over at her confidant, friend, and sister. “I’m glad you’re here. What took you so long?”
Fannie looked at the door and then back to Lucy. “I came one other time and wasn’t comfortable . . . ”
“Why, what do you mean?” Lucy couldn’t imagine her sister being intimidated with just about anything.
Then it came to her. “The doctor.”
Fannie crossed her arms over her chest.
“That’s it. You’re fond of him.”
Fannie shook her head. “That’s a silly notion.”
Lucy finally had a good reason to smile, and it made her feel a hundred times better. “You know how fortunate we are to be with someone we truly have feelings for instead of just taking in a man we don’t even like?”
Fannie blinked and bent over to pick up Rhoda. “I brought my things to stay the night, but it seems plans have changed.”
“Jah, I think the doctor was discharging us, but didn’t finish with Manny taking off like he did.” It pained her heart when she said his name and remembered his face as he left. “I wish he was here.”
“Jah, but he has to come back for more milk.”
Bottle feeding wasn’t common but in their case necessary to care for two babies, another difference that Lucy didn’t like, but in this case she was glad about it.
She smiled. “Jah, I guess he does.”
When Manny left the clinic, he had gone to his friend Harvey Graber’s haus. It had been a good visit with his old friend, and now he was ready to go back. Manny loved his little family and would make sure they were going to get through the obstacles before them. He loved each and every one of them. Hearing the news about Rhoda had been hard to take, but deep down he resolved to make the best of the situation and help his daughter become everything she could be.
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He wished he could contact Lucy; they didn’t have phones, but he sure wished he did right at this moment. She was familiar with Harvey and his family who lived in the area, but he knew she probably had her hands full with Rhoda. They might even be getting ready to leave, after what the doc said. The thought of their being discharged prompted him to go back to the clinic.
Manny sat beside Harvey in his buggy, thankful they had taken him and Timmy into their haus. Everyone was kind enough not to ask too many questions, but Manny felt that Harvey deserved an explanation. “Danke for picking me up and taking us back. Mighty nice of you.”
Harvey forced a smile and nodded once. “I’m glad to, but I am concerned about you and the family. You all right?” His plump, cheery face made him look even friendlier than he was.
Manny’s excuse of needing some air away from the clinic was obviously not persuasive—not that he wanted to make it so—but he didn’t want to share any more than needed. “Things have been difficult lately, ups and downs.” He turned to look at him. “Sorry for the sad story, but you did ask.” He grinned in an effort to make light of it.
“We had some troubles early on too. It’ll get better. Doesn’t sound like you’ve had time to settle in or had a honeymoon.” He winked.
The minute Timmy started to fuss, Manny reached for the bottle he’d warmed. He only had one left, which was also why he was going back.
But then again, he could understand how Lucy must have felt those years with Sam. He was a wicked man, a term Manny didn’t like to use, but the longer he was with Lucy, the more he knew about the goings-on between them—things he found unthinkable. He’d tried not to pry into her thoughts while she was absorbing Sam’s sudden death and then the birth of her babies . . . their babies . . . a responsibility that he’d grown to love and which seemed to bring them together.
As they pulled up to the clinic, Manny noticed a group of young boys playing at the park nearby. It was a place for families and their children to spend time outdoors together while staying at the clinic. He had taken Timmy there a couple of times when Rhoda was wailing so much Timmy couldn’t take his nap.
