by Amy Lillard
“He would have been so proud.”
She smiled through her tears. “Pride is a sin.”
Reuben grinned in return. “Any man who isn’t proud of his children is a fool.”
“Then he would be proud,” Mariana returned. If there was one thing Leroy Miller wasn’t, it was a fool. His wife, on the other hand . . . well, she wasn’t so sure. How was she going to support herself and this baby? She had to figure out something, and quick.
“A baby,” Reuben murmured. “Now, this changes everything.”
Chapter Two
Mariana let herself into Eileen Brenneman’s house, the screen door bumping into her behind as she stopped just inside the doorway.
A little girl about four years old stood next to the food table, thumb firmly in her mouth as she gazed at Mariana with serious brown eyes.
“Hi, there,” Mariana said, moving toward her. For a moment she thought the girl might dart away, but she stood her ground.
She had to be one of the foster girls that Eileen had taken in. Mariana had heard that Eileen had finally gotten them, but that had been a couple of weeks ago, just before Leroy’s death and funeral. Mariana had missed three meetings of the quilting circle and it felt good to be back.
Mariana set the plate of cookies and the plastic container of cheese dip on the table next to what could only be Verna Yutzy’s mini pecan pies and Tess Smiley’s experimental goat cheese pizza. At least she thought that was what it was.
“Hi, I’m Mariana,” she said, extending her hand toward the young girl.
She looked at it, then back into Mariana’s eyes. She seemed so sad, so misplaced. Then Mariana remembered that these foster children were Englisch, though she made a cute Amish figure in her aqua blue dress and twin braids.
Joy burst within her chest. A girl. If Leroy were still alive, she would naturally want a boy for him. But he wasn’t, and she wanted a girl. A baby girl who would grow up to be a good Amish woman. A girl that she could teach the proper way to fix her hair, a girl to help her feed the chickens and give water to the horse. A girl she could teach everything to. The heady thought went straight to her heart. She swayed in place as she continued to look at this wonderful creature before her.
“She doesn’t talk much.” Mariana whirled around as another small face appeared from the kitchen. “Or any,” she continued.
“Well then, it’s good she has you to speak for her.”
The young girl nodded. “I s’pose. I’m Crystal. Her sister.”
“I’m Mariana.” She took a step toward the girl, extending her hand as she had done to her sister. “What’s her name?”
“Brittany.”
She took Mariana’s hand into her small one and shook vigorously. There was a maturity about her that belied her young age. If Mariana had to guess, she would say the girl was no more than seven. Yet she had an old air about her as if she’d seen way too much in her seven short years.
“It’s nice to meet you, Crystal. And you too, Brittany.”
Brittany continued to suck her thumb and warily eyed Mariana.
“Are you here to do the quilt?”
“I am.”
“You weren’t here last week.”
“I had some family business to take care of.” That sounded much better than I was burying my husband, and I was a little busy.
“What kind of family business?”
“Crystal!” Eileen admonished as she came out of the kitchen with another tray of little pizzas. “What have I told you about asking personal questions?”
“Not to. But how am I supposed to find out anything if I don’t ask questions?”
Mariana stifled her laugh.
“You have to trust that I’ll tell you the things you need to know. Now, if you want to stay here while we have our quilting meeting, then you may. But if you do, you may not ask a bunch of personal questions.”
A small frown wrinkled Crystal’s brow. She scrunched up her face, showing Mariana the gap where her two front teeth had been. Mariana’s heart melted a little more. A baby girl. She couldn’t ask for anything more than a healthy baby girl. “How do I know if the question is personal or not?” Crystal finally asked.
Eileen sighed. Mariana had the feeling that Crystal’s spunky attitude was beginning to wear on the poor woman. Mariana supposed that was why God gave children to families as babies. He gave them a chance to become accustomed to them before they started walking and talking and otherwise getting their own personalities.
But this was a special situation. Like Mariana, Eileen had never been blessed with children of her own. Unlike Mariana, she had decided to adopt, starting with foster children to get into the system quickly. She had hoped to have the young girls by Thanksgiving last year, but here it was just after Easter and they had finally come to live with the Brenne-mans.
“If it’s not about quilting, or making clothes, or last week’s church service, then it’s too personal to ask. Does that clear things up for you?” Eileen asked.
Crystal seemed to think about it for a moment. “I guess.” Then she turned back to Mariana. “Why is your dress black?”
Eileen slammed the tray down and whirled around to face her foster child. “Crystal! That is too personal a question.”
“But—but it’s about clothes.” Her brown eyes filled with tears and Mariana’s heart went out to the girl. She dropped to her knees in front of her. “It’s okay. My dress is black because my husband recently passed away.”
She sniffed. “You mean like he died?”
Mariana nodded. “That’s right.”
“My dad died.”
“I’m sorry.”
Crystal nodded. “I’m sorry about your husband too.” Then she turned back to Eileen. “Should I have a black dress since my dad died?”
Eileen shot her an indulgent smile. For all of Crystal’s pert and sass, Mariana could tell right away that Eileen was already head over heels in love with the child, and she said a quick prayer that it all worked out. She would hate to see her friend fall completely in love only to lose the children again.
Crystal looked from Mariana back to Eileen. “I don’t understand. If we all have to wear dresses that are the same, and her husband died and my dad died, I don’t see why my dress is blue.”
Eileen sighed once more. “I’ll explain it to you later.” She moved behind the girls and urged Crystal and Brittany to go into her bonus room, where Mariana knew the rest of their quilting circle waited along with the quilt they were currently working on. They had just started piecing the quilt squares together when Leroy had taken a turn for the worse. After missing three weeks, Mariana could only guess at how far they’d gotten. It was probably just about ready to quilt.
“They’re adorable,” Mariana said as the girls disappeared into the room.
“They’re a lot of work,” Eileen said, then shook her head. She closed her eyes for a moment, and Mariana wondered if she was praying. Then she opened them once again. “Brittany seems to be adapting okay. At least she doesn’t ask as many questions as Crystal.”
“She’s something else,” Mariana said.
“That’s putting it mildly. She has such an inquisitive nature she’s forever asking question after question. I’m sorry if any of hers upset you.”
“It’s all right.” Once again Mariana shot her friend a quick smile to back up her words. It was all right and she was fine. As fine as she could be not knowing how she was going to support herself and her baby. But she would think of something. God would give her the idea. He always came through. He always took care. This time would be no different.
“Are you ready to go quilt?” Eileen asked.
“After three weeks away? I surely am.”
They made their way into the bonus room, where Mariana was greeted by each and every one of the quilting circle’s members. There was Verna Yutzy and her granddaughter Clara Rose, who recently had gotten married to Obie Brenneman, Eileen’s nephew. Tess Smiley was
there along with Helen Ebersol, the bishop’s wife, and Helen’s daughter, Emily. It had only been a couple of years since Emily had gotten married as well. Everyone in the county had thought that she would one day marry Luke Lambright, but instead he’d run off to race Englisch cars and Emily had married Elam Riehl.
“Where’s the baby?” Mariana asked.
Emily stepped to the side so Mariana could see the car seat where tiny Sallie Mae peacefully slept. No doubt about it. The child was truly a gift from above.
“She’s beautiful,” Mariana murmured, wishing the baby was awake so she could hold her for a bit. How long had it been since she had held a baby? Years and years. Soon she would hold her own baby in her arms. The thought made her light-headed.
“Mariana, are you all right?” Emily’s voice seemed to come from far away.
Mariana managed to pull herself from the place she’d gone and back to the present. “Jah,” she lied. She wasn’t feeling well. Not well at all.
“Are you certain?” Helen asked.
Somehow, Mariana managed to nod.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Eileen said. “You look a little pale.”
Mariana nodded and allowed her friend to lead her over to a nearby chair. She could almost hear everyone’s thoughts. All this was too much for her. Maybe she shouldn’t have come today.
But she had felt fine when she left the house. Only when she had gotten inside and started visiting had the waves of exhaustion overcome her. That must be it. The last few days had been trying. And she was pregnant, after all. She just needed some rest.
She waved everyone away and did her best to put on a brave and less tired face. She didn’t want anyone worrying about her. They had all done enough, bringing food to the house and checking on her daily since the funeral.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Clara Rose leaned in close as they stitched side by side. This quilt was a beautiful combination of greens mixed with calico flower prints to make a pattern of vines and leaves.
“Of course.”
Clara Rose looked pointedly down at the slow stitches Mariana was making.
“Your hands are shaking. Maybe it’s too soon for you to come back,” Clara Rose said.
But Mariana shook her head. “I’m just tired.”
As they talked, Verna leaned in closer. “Maybe we should eat. You look a little peaked.”
“I’m fine.” Mariana gave her a small smile, but it felt forced on her lips. “Maybe a bite or two would be good.”
Verna patted her knee and stood. “Let’s break custom and eat now. Everyone okay with that?”
Mariana looked up as everyone murmured their agreement and started putting their work aside.
The rustle of fabric seemed to come to her from far away. Jah, that was what she needed. Something to eat. She just needed to feed herself, feed the baby. She set her squares to one side and cautiously stood.
Carefully she made her way to the food table, hoping that the graying at the edges of her vision would hold off until she got her plate and sat back down.
“Here.” Mariana stopped as Eileen pressed a glass of apple juice into her hands. “Drink this.”
As if in slow motion, Mariana raised the glass to her lips, but before she could take even one sip, everything went black.
* * *
“Somebody call nine-one-one!”
Someone was shouting.
Mariana blinked, trying to bring her focus back in.
“Wait. I think she’s coming around.”
Why was somebody shouting? Had something happened? She took a moment to assess the room around her as so many concerned faces hovered above her. Tess, Verna, Clara Rose, even Helen and Emily all stood around looking down at her.
Down at her? She pushed herself up onto her elbows, only then realizing that she was flat on her back on the linoleum floor.
“What—what happened?” Several pairs of helping hands reached out to assist her, and Mariana was grateful. She still felt wobbly. “How did I get on the floor?”
Helen’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You passed out,” she said. “Did you hit your head?”
Mariana took a quick inventory and rubbed her shoulders a little. She supposed she must’ve fallen and hit them somewhere on the way down, and the back of her prayer kapp was crushed. She would have to get a new one now. But other than those two things, she seemed to be okay. “I’m fine.” If I only had a dime for every time I said that in the last eight days.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emily asked.
Mariana only nodded.
Someone pressed a glass of water into her hands and she drank it thirstily.
“I think this has all been a little much for you,” Helen said.
A chorus of murmuring agreement went up around the quilting circle.
“I’m fine, really.” She tried to push herself up, but only got halfway before she swayed like a tree in a hurricane. Again those helping hands reached out to steady her.
“Something’s up.” Verna pinned her with that sharp blue gaze. “You want to tell us what it is?”
All attention swiveled to the oldest member of the circle.
Mariana supposed now was as good a time as any to break the news to her friends. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about it herself. Happy, of course. But there were many more emotions mixed in.
“I’m going to have a baby.” Gasps went up all around, and Mariana was very aware of them as Clara Rose clapped her hands and jumped in place.
“How exciting!”
But the looks on Emily and Helen’s faces were not so joyous. “Have you seen a doctor?” Helen asked.
Mariana shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Would you stop saying that?” Verna groused. “If you’re passing out at the quilting meeting, you are most definitely not ‘fine.’”
“It’s just a baby.” Mariana said the words even if she didn’t believe them. She’d never been pregnant before and didn’t know if it had anything to do with the baby or not. But somehow, something just felt . . . wrong. Just not right.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Helen pressed.
“No,” Mariana admitted. “I haven’t been to the doctor.”
With everyone’s help, she managed to get back on her feet, though she was immediately whisked into a chair and another glass of juice was handed to her. She looked down at her dress. It was covered in sticky wet, and she could only assume that she had spilled the first glass of juice on her way to the floor.
“Why haven’t you been to the doctor yet?” Helen asked. “It’s not been too soon.”
Of all the people surrounding her, Helen Ebersol knew more than anyone about Leroy’s illness. She alone had known how bad those last few days were, those last few weeks, those last couple of months. Helen had been with Mariana almost every day. She knew how sick Leroy had been, and she knew, Mariana could see it in her eyes, that Mariana was at least three months pregnant. Plenty enough time for a checkup.
How could she explain that she had not gone to the doctor because going made it real, and she couldn’t do that just yet. Her husband had been dying, her life falling apart, and the one thing she wanted most in the world was finally going to be hers. The emotions were varied and conflicting, and it had simply been easier to ignore them and take care of her husband in those final days than it had been to admit the truth. She was going to be a mom and a widow, though not in that order.
“I’ll make an appointment next week.”
Helen’s frown deepened. “I think you should go sooner. Maybe to a specialist.”
Mariana shook her head. “I don’t know a doctor like that.”
“I know one,” Eileen said. “I’ll get his number.” She bustled off, returning a few minutes later with a scrap of paper. She held it out to Mariana, but Helen snatched it away.
“I’ll make your appointment.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’ll make the appointme
nt and get us a driver.”
“You’re going with me?” Tears stung her eyes. It seemed that was all she could do these days. Crying had become her new pastime.
“Of course.” Helen smiled. “We mothers have to stick together.”
* * *
Mother. She was going to be a mother. The thought was becoming more and more real to her. Even more so as she sat in the doctor’s office surrounded by women in varying degrees of pregnancy.
She liked the doctor well enough, and the exam hadn’t been as bad as she had anticipated, but the wait . . . that was making her batty.
After she had peed in a cup, given more blood than she even knew her body contained, undressed, pretended to be somewhere else, and dressed again, she was now waiting with Helen in the doctor’s office. Her nerves were shot and her palms sweaty. Her heart pounded in her chest. What if he came back and said that something was wrong? How would she handle that?
Helen squeezed her hand. “Give it to God.”
Such wise words. Mariana bowed her head and said a quick prayer, barely finishing before the door opened behind them and the handsome doctor breezed in.
“Well, now, Mrs. Miller. We have the results of your tests back.” He set the folder he carried on the desk, then instead of going behind it and resting in the chair, he propped one hip against the edge and crossed his arms. “You’re pregnant,” he said. “But you already knew that.”
Mariana nodded dumbly.
“And that’s why she passed out?” Helen asked. “Because she’s pregnant? That’s the only reason?”
The doctor nodded sagely. “Good question. A pregnant woman can pass out for several reasons during pregnancy, it’s not uncommon at all. Unfortunately, I do believe that Mrs. Miller’s problem stems from the fact that her blood pressure is way too high right now.”
Is that really bad?
“What can you do for that?” Mariana asked.
“We have medications you can take, of course. But in your case I’m going to prescribe immediate and extensive bed rest as well.”
Bed rest? “You mean like I have to stay in bed all day long?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You need to rest, and you need to get your blood pressure back in line. We’re going to give you some medication to help, but I want you to relax as much as possible. That means no cleaning house, no cooking meals, no getting up. If absolutely necessary you may go to the bathroom on your own, and you may wash every day, but no baths, just showers. I’ll see you back here in two weeks. Once your blood pressure is down, you can come once a month and we’ll talk about giving you a little more time to exercise. Do you have any questions?”
