“I thought I remembered a stake down here,” he said with satisfaction. He set it down on the workbench he’d built in the basement and found nails and a hammer. “Have you used a hammer much?”
Jason shook his head. “Kate puts up pictures and stuff.”
David handed him the hammer.
“You want me to nail it?”
“You might as well get started, if you’re going to try a simple project like we talked about earlier.”
“Yeah.” Jason took a nail and positioned it on the stake.
“Let me show you what I do to keep from hammering my fingers.”
Jason watched him and grinned. “Cool. Thanks.” Carefully he hammered the nail, then another.
David found some black paint and a brush. “What do you think it should say?”
“Hmm. Maybe ‘Need medical help’?”
“Sounds gut. How are your painting skills?”
“About as good as my carpentry skills. But I’ll give it a shot.”
As Jason carefully lettered the sign, David couldn’t help remembering how he’d felt so scared that night Sarah was cramping. The doctor told him to bring her right in. Fortunately, there hadn’t been a snowstorm. But he’d been consumed with fear seeing Sarah’s white face, felt so helpless as he held her while the doctor told them that she’d lost the baby.
“Looks good, if I do say so myself,” Jason said, jerking David from his thoughts.
Some of the tension seemed to have left the other man’s face. Maybe doing something useful like this had helped him cope.
“We’ll put it out soon,” he said.
“Good.” Jason flexed his shoulders and sighed. “It was a long night, huh?”
“But you got through it, both of you. I know it’s hard not being in control of things. You want to protect your wife—you still do. But staying calm for her when she needs it, doing little things to take care of her . . . well, that’s what’s really important, isn’t it? Not trying to control what we can’t control anyway?”
Jason leaned against the counter. “I could have done better.”
“We all could, in most circumstances,” David said slowly. “So we all try harder, work at living the way we should according to our beliefs. Our faith.”
“Are you guys building an ark down there?” Kate called from the top of the stairs.
“It’s a snowstorm, not a rainstorm, hon,” Jason called back.
David smiled. “Let’s show them what we’ve got.”
When the men returned from the basement, Jason was carrying a crude sign. He showed it off with an air of satisfaction that reminded Sarah of her scholars at school.
“Good job, honey,” Kate told him. She sank into a chair at the kitchen table and accepted a cup of chamomile tea from Sarah.
David went to look out the window. “We need to wait a little while before we take it outside. Wind’s kicking up too much.”
As if to confirm his words, something hit the side of the house with a loud thump!
“What was that?” Kate asked, pressing a hand to her heart.
“Could have been a tree limb; could have been something the wind tossed from the ground,” David told them. “It’s one reason it’s not safe to go out right now. We’ll see what it was when the wind dies down.”
“I hope you can have your celebration later today,” Kate said.
Sarah nodded. “First Christmas is my favorite. But it’s nice to get presents, too!”
“My coworkers gave me a baby shower last week, so the baby’s already got presents waiting. Someone even gave me a Christmas tree ornament that says ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ on it.” She sighed. “I got so much stuff there’s no way that the baby can wear all of it.” She stopped, cocked her head. “Say, do Amish babies wear Pampers?”
Sarah laughed. “Yes, sometimes. Some mothers use cloth diapers, but disposable ones are very convenient when families are attending church or are away from home.”
Jason shifted restlessly.
David looked at Sarah. “Do you want me to prepare the house for our guests?”
“Not yet, thank you,” Sarah told him.
“What’s to prepare?” asked Kate, looking around her. “I’ve never seen such a spotless house.”
David showed them how much of the downstairs was actually one big room. The partitions that separated the living room and kitchen areas could be moved to accommodate the members of their church when it was their turn to host biweekly services. “We actually had about a hundred twenty-five people here for our wedding—some of our family who live in other parts of the country came,” he told them.
“What a cool way to adapt your home,” Jason said. “I’ve seen pocket doors, but nothing like this.”
Sarah and Kate exchanged smiles as their husbands bent their heads together in a discussion of the merits of the partitions and what was involved in making them. Jason asked endless questions about tools. Before long, they’d gone downstairs to the basement again.
“Men and their toys,” Kate said, laughing and shaking her head. “Jason saw the furniture David is making in the barn and remembered how much he used to like shop class in high school. He wants to get some power tools when we get home and try making something.” She stirred her tea. “I think it’ll be a good break for him away from the computer.”
Sarah thought about how much David enjoyed working with wood. He’d always been like that, ever since she’d known him. He worked so hard and seemed to gain so much pleasure from his craft. It earned him a gut living, too, so that if the time came that she stopped teaching to stay home with their children, they would be fine.
David had been so supportive of her teaching. It was a calling, he said, one that she’d never thought would be offered to her. Both of them completed school at eighth grade and then pursued vocational training with adults, as was the way of their community. But they were both insatiable readers and liked nothing better than to talk about what they’d read.
“I think I’ll go lie down again if you don’t mind,” Kate said.
“Of course I don’t mind.” Sarah stood and offered her hand to help Kate from the chair.
“Thanks.” Instead of releasing Sarah’s hand once she’d gotten to her feet, Kate looped Sarah’s arm in hers, and they walked companionably down the hall. “You know, if we’d met sometime, someplace other than here, I think we might have been friends.”
Sarah stared at her in surprise. “I think so too.”
“I know Jason doesn’t think I’m very domestic,” Kate told her. “But I enjoy making a home for us.”
She let go of Sarah’s arm when they reached the bedroom. Kicking off her shoes, she sank down on the bed. “The thing is, I’ve wanted to be an attorney since I was a little girl, and you don’t fool around if that’s your career goal. You have to study every minute you can, take extra courses, cram for the bar exam. Then, when you get the job, you have to prove yourself over and over and hope you make partner.”
She sighed. “And you can’t ever let on that you want other things too, like time with your husband and to have a baby and take some time off, not just a few weeks and then hand the baby over to someone and pump breast milk during your lunch break for bottles at day care that someone else gets to give him.”
Her breath hitched, and tears began rolling down her cheeks.
Sarah sank down into the chair beside the bed. “Kate?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just having a pity party.” She wiped at her cheeks with her fingers. “Hormones, you know?”
When Sarah handed her a handkerchief, she stared at it. “I’ve only seen a real one once in my life, when my grandmother gave me hers.” Kate mopped at her tears. “I just want to spend some time at home with my baby, and I don’t know how I’m going to make that happen.”
She looked at Sarah. “It’s not just the money I’d lose if I stayed home. Maternity leave isn’t encouraged in my law firm. I’ve heard other women there teased for
having ‘mommy brain.’ You know, when a woman seems distracted, everyone assumes she can’t keep her mind on her work, that she’s thinking about her baby.”
“Is the office the only place you can do your work as an attorney?”
When Kate didn’t answer, when she just stared at her, Sarah wondered if she’d overstepped.
“No,” Kate said finally, lifting her chin. “No. I need to remember that.”
Patting the other woman’s shoulder, Sarah rose. “Why don’t you rest for a little while?”
Kate nodded, and Sarah drew the quilt over her.
“Do you want me to get Jason for you?”
“No. He’ll get upset that I’ve been crying.”
Sarah quietly shut the door. Kate’s up-and-down moods reminded her of the roller coaster in a nearby amusement park for the Englisch tourists. She stood there for a moment, thinking, and then moved swiftly down the hallway and went upstairs to her room.
She heard David call her name.
“In here,” she called over her shoulder. She didn’t turn when she heard his footsteps behind her.
“What are you doing?”
“Just—getting some things.”
“Sarah?” He touched her arm and made her turn. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m getting things ready, just in case.”
“Ready? For what?”
She dumped the pile of sheets and towels into his arms. “Kate’s been acting like she’s in labor. I just want to be prepared in case she starts having the baby and we can’t get her to the hospital.”
David bent so that she could place another set of sheets on top of the stack he held. “I hope you’re wrong.”
“Me too.”
“But you seldom are,” he murmured, and he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose.
She smiled. “I’ll remember that the next time we have a discussion.”
They walked downstairs, and Sarah had David put the linens in the pantry closet, where Kate and Jason wouldn’t see them.
“Look, is it my imagination, or does it seem like it’s getting lighter outside?” she asked as she walked over to the window.
“It does look a little lighter,” he conceded as he joined her.
Jason wandered in. “Kate’s taking a nap. Thought I’d see what the two of you were up to.”
“Just talking,” David told him. “Join us.”
Sitting down at the table, Jason stared off into the distance for a moment, and then he looked at them. “Kate and I have never talked so much. It seems to help both of us right now while she’s so anxious about the baby and all.”
He rubbed his finger on the grain of the wood on the table. “Not having all the stuff that takes our attention away from each other—you know, the phones, the computer, the television—well, I never realized that it makes such a difference. I mean, I always thought we were together at the house, so what was the harm in taking a call or texting someone or catching a game on the television? I think when we get home I’m going to be sending back that new television and keeping the old one—and the computer—off more.”
“I think that will make Kate very happy,” Sarah told him, and she smiled.
A few minutes later, Kate appeared in the doorway, looking pale and strained. She held her hands under her abdomen as though it was too heavy to walk without supporting it.
“Hi,” she said, leaning against the doorjamb. She tried to smile, but it was obviously an effort.
The three of them rose like puppets on a string.
“I hope you won’t think I’m crying wolf,” she told them. “But I’m in labor.”
Jason rushed to her and helped her to sit down. “It’s just nerves, baby. False labor. Braxton Hicks, remember?”
She shook her head. “It’s the real thing.”
Sarah went to her side. “How close are the contractions?”
“Five minutes.”
“Let’s get you back to bed.”
Kate cast a glance at the window, then at Jason. Her lips trembled, but she was obviously trying to stay calm. “I don’t suppose—I don’t suppose you’ve seen any snowplows?”
The three of them looked at each other. No one wanted to be the bearer of bad news.
“Not yet,” Sarah spoke up. “But it can’t be much longer.”
Jason lifted Kate into his arms. “Hang in there. It’s going to be okay.”
She laid her head against his shoulder. “I’m so scared. I don’t want to have the baby early. I don’t want to have it without my doctor. I don’t want to have it here.” Her voice broke, and she started crying.
“Shh,” he murmured. “It’s going to be okay.”
Sarah and David watched him carry Kate back into their room. Before they could move he was back.
“What are we going to do?” he asked them. “I’m scared to death. I don’t think I can hold it together for her.”
David placed his hands on the other man’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “You can, and you will. You did great just now. Right, Sarah?”
She nodded and smiled.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” Jason said. “Not in this day and age. What if something goes wrong?”
“Women have been having babies at home since time began,” Sarah told him. “I’ve even read that it’s become a trend in your Englisch world to have a midwife and have the baby at home. The three of us are going to help Kate, and everything is going to be all right.”
Jason took a shaky breath. “The Lamaze instructor said first-time labors can be long.”
Sarah nodded. “Contractions five minutes apart don’t mean the baby’s coming in five minutes. And labor can stop too.”
“Okay. I’m going back in there with her. You’re coming with me, right?”
“I’ll be right there.”
David dropped his hands, and Jason turned and left the room.
Grasping the back of a kitchen chair, Sarah took her own shaky breath and then looked at David. “Jason’s not the only one worrying that something can go wrong,” she said. “I’m scared. I couldn’t bear it if they lost their baby. We know what kind of pain that is.”
David took her hands in his and squeezed them. “You want to help Kate, don’t you?”
She searched his face. “You know I do.”
“If God has given you the desire to help, he’s already given you the ability to do it.”
“Oh, David, do you think so?”
When he nodded, she took a deep breath. “I hope you’re right,” she whispered.
“Let’s say a quick prayer.”
They bent their heads and prayed, and then he gathered her into his arms for a hug. “You go help Kate, and I’ll get the supplies you brought downstairs.”
She walked into the bedroom and found Kate panting through a contraction. Jason was talking her through it, holding her hand as he sat on the chair beside the bed. Kate finally relaxed against the pillows and blew out a breath.
“Wow. They’re getting stronger,” she told them.
A few minutes passed, and David hadn’t come into the room. It wasn’t like him not to do exactly as he’d said he would do.
“I’ll be right back,” Sarah told them and slipped from the room.
When she walked into the kitchen, the sign that Jason and David had made was gone. So were David’s coat and hat.
Chapter Ten
Sarah came back with the sheets and placed them on top of the dresser. Jason looked up, and he must have sensed her tension. He raised his brows, and after a quick glance at Kate, Sarah shook her head in silent warning.
Kate’s forehead grew damp with perspiration as the contractions came closer and closer, harder and harder.
“I’m going to get a wet washcloth,” Sarah told Jason.
She walked quickly into the kitchen and ran water over several cloths at the sink. Turning, she saw that Jason had followed her.
“Where’s David?” he asked.
Sar
ah bit her lip. “He went for help,” she said finally.
“But he said it wasn’t safe. Why would he do that? He wouldn’t let me.”
“He wanted you to be with your wife.”
“Instead of safe with his?”
She nodded. “He knew I was worried about Kate. Neither of us wants anything to happen to your wife or your baby.”
“But the two of you keep saying everything will be all right.”
“We still believe that,” she told him firmly. “You and I are going to do everything to help Kate get through this, whether it means she has the baby here or help comes and she has it at the local hospital. And David will be fine,” she said, more for herself than for him. “He knows this area. You don’t.”
“Jason!”
He jumped at the sound of Kate’s voice. “Coming!”
Then he surprised Sarah by turning back to her, and she saw him straighten, draw himself up.
“We’re going to be fine,” he told her. “We can do this if we have to.”
He hurried back to Kate, and Sarah stared after him for a long moment. She’d told Kate to expect the best from him and she’d get it; now Jason was showing her that she was right.
“Don’t leave me alone again!” Kate cried, grasping at his hand.
“I won’t, baby. I was just seeing if Sarah needed any help.”
“I don’t think she needed help carrying a couple of washcloths!”
Jason winced at her tone, but kept the patient smile on his face. “You’re right. I was just gone a minute, but it must have seemed longer.”
“Don’t patronize me!”
“No, baby, I wouldn’t dream of doing that.”
Sarah handed him a dampened washcloth, and he wiped Kate’s face gingerly, as if half-afraid she’d snap at his fingers.
Kate looked at Sarah. “I’m sorry. I sound like a shrew.”
Sarah walked over to sit in the chair beside the bed. “From here on in, I don’t want to hear any apologies. You say anything, yell anything you want. We’ll understand.”
One Child Page 9
