by Alison Stone
Sarah took the book and turned it over. She pushed back in her seat and opened the cover. The hope on Hannah’s face pierced Spencer’s heart. He had never met a stronger woman in his life.
He quietly said a prayer to give her continued strength to deal with whatever was about to unfold with her mother. The idea of praying caught him off guard.
Emma ran over to Hannah. “Do you have a book for me?”
“Of course.” From her tote, Hannah produced an early reader with Cinderella on the front. Emma skipped over and plopped down next to her sister.
“Cinderella?” Spencer asked, a smirk tilting his lips.
“Too English?” She laughed. He loved the sound. “I didn’t experience the world of Disney princesses until after I left Apple Creek. My favorite was Cinderella.” She twisted her thin lips, and something flickered briefly in her eyes. “But we all know fairy tales are just stories.”
Spencer leaned in close and couldn’t resist kissing her soft cheek. Her shampoo smelled of strawberries. “Maybe I have your glass slipper.”
Hannah pulled back, a sad smile on her face. “There are plenty of women who would be a better fit for the slipper. For you.”
Something twisted in his gut. He could feel her pulling away. Erecting a wall between them.
“Excuse me, Miss Wittmer.” A woman dressed in pale blue scrubs entered the waiting room.
Hannah’s eyes radiated fear.
The young nurse clasped her hands and lifted them to her chest. “Your mother is done with her CT scan.”
Hannah slowly stood, clutching her hands in front of her much like the nurse had done. “Is my mother okay?”
The nurse lowered her gaze, as if the diamond pattern on the worn blue carpet had suddenly become very fascinating. Spencer’s heart broke for Hannah.
“Dr. Jennings would like to talk with you in your mother’s hospital room.”
Hannah turned slowly, her hand extended to her nieces. “The girls.”
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “No one under sixteen is allowed on the patient floors.”
Spencer touched her back. “I’ll stay with the girls.” He hated that he couldn’t go upstairs with her.
Hannah nodded slowly. She kissed Sarah and Emma on top of their heads, the action so deliberate, he sensed she was savoring each moment, as if she knew her world was about to be turned upside down.
* * *
Hannah was quiet on the drive to the apartment. It had taken all of her energy to collect the girls from the lobby and make it home without crumbling. Even now that she was home, she was struggling to stay composed.
Thankfully, Spencer read the situation and didn’t ask her any questions. Before he disappeared into his apartment across the hall, she had asked him to come back after she had put the girls to bed. She needed to talk to someone, to figure things out, or she feared she’d explode.
As she made mac and cheese for the girls, she forced herself to focus on the moment. Boil water, pour in noodles, stir.
Don’t think about Mem.
“Is dinner almost ready? I’m hungry.” Emma climbed up on the stool and rested her elbows on the counter.
Hannah reached across and squeezed her small hand. “Almost.”
Across the small apartment, Sarah was curled up in the corner chair with her nose in her Little House on the Prairie book. Maybe Sarah was more like Hannah than she had thought.
A knock on the door brought Sarah’s head up. Hannah smiled. “Let me get that.” She crossed the room and rose onto her tiptoes and looked through the peephole.
Spencer.
Hannah unlocked the door and opened it. “Hey, there.” His friendly smile was like a warm embrace. He was light to her darkness.
“You’re early.”
“Looks like I’m just in time.”
Hannah glanced over her shoulder at the steam rising over the small pot on the stove. “It’s only mac and cheese.”
“Sounds good.”
Hannah laughed. “Whatever floats your boat. I’ll put out another plate.”
The four of them enjoyed a quiet dinner. Afterward, the girls retired to their rooms to read. When Hannah came back out, Spencer had already cleared the dinner dishes.
“You’re a keeper.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth she wished she could call them back. She blinked a few times and took a step back.
He tipped his head but didn’t say anything. He had an unnerving way of studying her. He led her to the couch and pulled her down next to him. “Tell me about your mom.”
Immediately, tears burned the backs of her eyes, and a thick knot lodged in her throat. She let out a long, slow breath. Spencer ran his thumb across the back of her hand.
She pressed her lips together as if that would stop the tears. One escaped and trailed down her cheek. Spencer cupped her cheek and wiped the tear with his thumb. She leaned into his palm, reveling in its warmth. Comfort.
She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “You really are a good guy.”
“What’s on your mind?” His voice was low and husky.
She bowed her head and studied her lap. She couldn’t keep it together and look him in the eyes. “The CT scan revealed—” she cleared her throat “—my mem has a brain tumor.”
Spencer brushed a kiss across her forehead and pulled her head against his chest. “I’m sorry.”
She drew in a deep breath. He smelled clean, a mixture of soap and a subtle aftershave. She tried to clear her mind, her panic.
After taking a minute to pull herself together, she straightened her back. “They’re going to release Mem tomorrow. She refuses additional treatment.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed. “What did the physician say?”
“Dr. Jennings said she wanted to refer my mother to a specialist. She figured they’d want to operate and then follow it up with radiation and chemotherapy. She couldn’t say for sure until the specialist reviewed my mem’s case.”
“Your mother refused?”
“She wants to go home and live in peace.”
“What about the seizures?”
“The doctor said she could manage the seizures and pain with medication.” Hannah traced a seam in the couch cushion and when she looked up, she met a look of sympathy in Spencer’s eyes that was nearly her undoing. “I can’t force her to have surgery and undergo radiation. I can’t.”
“Maybe she’ll change her mind.”
“I don’t think she will.”
Spencer rubbed her forearm. “What does this mean?”
“I have to go back. For my mother.”
* * *
“You’re going back? What do you mean?” Spencer was unable to hide the disappointment from his tone.
Hannah tipped her head, purposely avoiding his eyes. “I have to take care of my mother.”
“Bring your mother here.” His plea was more out of selfishness than practicality.
“I need to do everything I can to make her feel comfortable. If she came here, I’m afraid she’d be shunned.” She shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “She’s a good Amish woman. I don’t want to cause her any more undue stress at this time.”
“How...?” He wanted to ask her how she planned to return to the Amish community after her grand exit, but he could see from the look on her face that she had no idea. Yet she was determined to do it.
After sitting for a few minutes with her head in her hands, she stood and paced. “I can’t force Lester and Fannie Mae to leave the house.” She rubbed her forehead unable to smooth the worry lines. “Maybe...” She fidgeted with the ends of her new short, English haircut. It was hard to imagine her as the Amish woman he had greeted on the porch of her childhood home not that long ago.
So different than the woman standing in front of him.
He stood and pulled her hand in his. “How can I help?”
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” The pain in her eyes pierced his heart.
He dragged his knuckles across her cheek. “You wouldn’t be the woman I’ve come to know, if you didn’t take care of your mother when she needed you.”
Hannah fell into his embrace and stayed there, longer than he expected. He memorized every detail of the fleeting moment.
Hannah pulled back and looked him in the eye. “What about the girls? I can’t confuse them like this. One minute they’re Amish, then English, then Amish again.” She held him tighter. The frustration rolled off her in waves.
He wanted to ask, What about me? What about us? That wasn’t important now.
“I’ll have to make sure you’re secure on the farm.” The horrible memory of burning wood filled his nose. “Do you think my moving in with you and your mom would be frowned upon?” Humor tilted his lips.
Hannah patted his arm. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I haven’t been fair to you. You’re a really good guy.”
“I feel a but coming on.” He let out a long breath.
Hannah sat on the arm of the couch. “My mother gave up her dreams for me.” The intensity in her expression told Spencer there was more to that comment than she was letting on.
Spencer sat on the corner of the coffee table and waited for her to continue her story.
“I don’t want to betray my mother’s confidence, but I know I can trust you.” Hannah relayed the story of how her mother had run away with her English boyfriend and returned to the Amish community after she found herself pregnant and alone. “My mem was afraid, but she firmly believed she was doing the best thing for me. She had no way of knowing what waited for her in the outside world once my father died, so she retreated to the familiarity of the Amish. She did that for me.”
“But your Amish father didn’t treat you well.”
“My mother had no way of knowing that would be the case. Her decisions were made with my best interests at heart.” Hannah slid off the arm of the couch and slouched into the deep cushions. “I owe my mother this much. I need to let her live the last days of her life in her home.”
“I’ll go back.”
Spencer pivoted around the corner of the coffee table. Sarah stood in her pink pj’s looking very much like any other nine-year-old girl. The only thing that hinted at her Amish-ness was her hair, tightly pleated in a braid down her back.
Hannah scooted to the edge of the cushion, but didn’t stand, perhaps afraid of spooking Sarah. “I thought you were starting to like school.”
Sarah’s lips twitched. “I want to be with Granny.”
“Did you hear us talking...about Grandma?”
Sarah’s face crumbled. She rushed over to Hannah and fell into her arms. Hannah closed her eyes, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Spencer looked away.
“Do you think Emma will be okay with going back?”
Sarah nodded without lifting her head. “She’s little. She’ll be okay as long as she’s with you.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” Hannah patted Sarah’s back. “Thank you.” On the second thank-you she met and locked eyes with Spencer. He knew how much Sarah’s words of support meant to Hannah. And just how much he’d miss living across the hall from this little family.
FIFTEEN
Hannah grabbed her mother’s elbow, bony under her touch. It seemed she had lost a few pounds since going into the hospital three days ago. Dr. Jennings had worked wonders in allowing her mother to stay in the hospital long enough to work out her prescription doses. Hannah glanced over her shoulder while Sarah and Emma scooted out of Spencer’s truck dressed in their bright-colored skirts and graphic T-shirts.
Butterflies flitted in her stomach. It was a surreal feeling, almost like she was sneaking back into her childhood home, much as she had sneaked out all those years ago.
“Girls, I’m going to get Granny settled, then we’ll change our clothes. The bishop is going to stop by.” Hannah glanced toward the main house, wondering if Fannie Mae or Lester had moved in yet. An empty space of charred earth marked the spot where the barn had stood. She had heard rumors in town that they were going to have a barn raising in a few weeks, well before the bad weather rolled in.
“Watch the step, Mem.” Hannah tightened her grip on her mother’s arm, stretching out to open the door. A staleness from being closed up for a few days rolled out and greeted them.
Spencer and the girls followed them into the home. She wondered how they’d all live in the small space. Urgency made her mind race. The bishop was supposed to be here before sundown, and she didn’t want to cause her mother any more stress. Her Amish clothes were stored away in a chest in the main house. Her mother’s discharge had taken longer than expected, and it was late.
Hannah guided her mother to a rocking chair. “How do you feel, Mem?”
Her mother’s stiff carriage relaxed. “I’m home.”
“Maybe you should lie down.”
Her mother made a face. “I’m not going to crawl into bed and wait to die.”
A crushing weight pressed on Hannah’s chest. The walls closed in on her. She opened a window and breathed in the fresh country air. She grabbed a pink bandanna out of her back pocket and wrapped it around her head, holding her hair off her face. Could she do this? Could she return to her Amish roots, for her mother this time?
A knocking sounded on the door. Hannah’s heartbeat thudded in her ears. Reflexively she tugged at the hem of her T-shirt. She hadn’t had time to change yet.
She watched in slow motion as Spencer opened the door. Lester and Fannie Mae Lapp entered the small space, followed by the bishop. Fannie Mae had an almost hopeful expression on her face.
“You’re here already,” Hannah said, unable to hide her annoyance.
“We said we’d stop by,” Lester said, his steely gaze firmly locked on Hannah. “Fannie Mae and I are living next door now, and my father came by to wish your mother well.”
“Gut to see you’re home, Mrs. Wittmer.” The bishop ignored the terse exchange and limped into the small space, leaning heavily on his cane. “How are you feeling?”
“No more fuss. I’m fine.” Her mother reached over to grab her knitting, but left it sitting on the table as if even that took too much effort.
Emma and Sarah hung back in the doorway between the sitting room and kitchen. Perhaps they were hiding their English wardrobe from the bishop. Perhaps Hannah should have changed the girls into their dresses before they left the apartment.
Perhaps she’d been trying to delay the inevitable.
Fannie Mae silently gestured to her husband with her eyes. Lester tipped his head toward Hannah. “You’ve decided to stay?”
Hannah nodded curtly. “We just arrived. We haven’t had time to change our clothing.”
“Returning to the Amish community means more than wearing plain clothing.” The bishop stared at her, his expression hard to read.
“Can we talk outside?” Hannah asked.
The group filed outside. The girls stayed inside to keep their grandmother company.
Hannah was keenly aware of Spencer’s presence. She wondered how long he could hang around before he drew the ire of the Amish community.
Hannah took a deep breath and sent up a quick prayer, seeking guidance. “I’ll be honest. I am struggling with my decision.”
“It’s not fair to drag my brother’s daughters back and forth. They need stability.” A muscle ticked in Lester’s jaw.
“I’m stuck in a very difficult situation.” She swallowed hard as a tingling bit at her fingertips. “My mother is very ill.” The words, She’s dying froze on her lips.
“I need to be here for
her.”
A very calm expression came over the bishop’s face. “Gott works in amazing ways. This is what needed to happen to bring you home.”
“I pray I’m doing the best thing for my sister’s daughters.” Hannah shot a sideways look at Lester. Had God truly intended her mother’s illness to be the inciting event to force her back to the ways of the Amish for good? Her heart was conflicted. God had a plan, but could she claim to know it? She had to trust Him.
“The dawdy haus is small. The girls can sleep in their old bedroom.” Fannie Mae spoke for the first time.
“That’s a great idea,” Lester agreed.
A nervous knot twisted in Hannah’s stomach. The girls were slipping out of her grasp.
“That might be best,” the bishop added. “And you’ll stay close to your mem.”
Hannah felt like she had no choice. She’d have to make some concessions if they’d allow her to live among the Amish and care for her mother.
The bishop turned to leave. “Hannah, slow down and be in the moment. I think Gott brought you back here for a reason.” He took a few more steps and turned back around. “We’ll see you at service next week.”
Hannah nodded, relieved to have that confrontation behind her. The bishop climbed into the wagon and flicked the reins. The horse took off at an easy trot.
Aware of Lester and Fannie Mae’s gazes, Hannah pushed open the door to her mother’s home. “Emma, Sarah, come here, please.”
The girls appeared in the doorway. Emma smiled and greeted her aunt and uncle. Sarah, as always, was more reserved. Hannah placed her hands on the girls’ backs. “How would you two like to sleep in your old bed?”
“I don’t want to go to bed yet,” Emma complained.
Hannah tapped her back. “Not yet. Later.”
Sarah looked up, worry in her eyes, a look that threw Hannah off balance. “Where will you sleep?”
Hannah raised her palm to the room where her mother sat. “Here with Granny. I’ll be right here,” she added for reassurance.
