Rebecca's Promise

by Jerry S. Eicher

  It was there, looking out over the rushing waters of the Flatrock River, that the memories came again. How could they not? She saw him, as if it had been yesterday, bending over the edge of the bank, his black hair falling into his eyes, his look triumphant as he pulled a muskrat out of his trap.

  He would look at the prize, then at her. First to glory in his catch but then to glory in her, his eyes shining with delight. He had loved her then, and she him. That it was a young love did not diminish the memory. She wept for herself and for the past with its hopes now dashed at her feet. It was all a little too much to bear. No one should be asked to continue hoping when the object was just pulled away. What signs were there to say things would change? None that she could see.

  The thoughts came as thick as the tears, as she let them both flow. Another car, and then another, passed over the bridge, but she failed to notice them. Images of her life ahead of her rose in her mind. She saw herself going back to Wheat Ridge, marrying John, growing old with him, but could she ever love again?

  Of course, she reminded herself, this decision still had its options open. I don’t have to marry John. Or anyone for that matter. Emma was single, so why couldn’t I be single? Why not just go through life like that? Emma seemed to be perfectly happy and content. Yes, that is something I could do. I could be a schoolteacher, of which there is always a pressing need in the parochial schools. I could teach all my life, just as Emma had done.

  The tears stopped. She thought for a moment more, and then with resolution in her step, she walked to the water’s edge and pulled the ring from her apron pocket. She took one last glance at it and threw it into the rushing water. It landed with a soft plunk and was gone.

  Behind her an automobile drew to a stop, the slowing sound drawing her attention, pulling the air out of her lungs. When she heard the car door open, she dared not look.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Rebecca’s heart was pounding in her chest. What if it is Atlee? “Dear,” a voice came from the car, strangely familiar and distinctly female. “Are you okay?”

  Rebecca felt embarrassment flooding through her again. How can I be so stupid again? My feelings are like the wind that blows around the tree branches. Now some woman has stopped by to check on me. Making no attempt to wipe her tear stains, feeling it was useless anyway, she walked toward the road.

  “Is something wrong? I’m Mrs. Spencer,” the lady said. “I don’t mean to bother you, but my nephew Derrick stopped by.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry for what he said to you. He told me about meeting an Amish girl down here by the bridge. He told me you were kin to Leona. I thought right away it must be Leona’s maid. Dear, Derrick shouldn’t have said what he did. He doesn’t understand Amish people very well. I hope you understand.”

  “It’s okay,” Rebecca said. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Why, you’ve been crying,” Mrs. Spencer said. “You weren’t running away or something?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “No, it’s a long story. I’ll be okay. I really should get back to Leona’s.”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Spencer agreed. “Sorry about Derrick though. He should have known better. He meant no harm. He’s always been a nice boy. Just likes to tease. Can I offer you a ride to your aunt’s?”

  “It would be nice to go back without walking. Yes, thank you.”

  When she had settled in the passenger seat, Rebecca asked, “Would he actually have taken me out on a date?”

  Mrs. Spencer chuckled at the question. “Maybe you should have called his bluff.”

  “Maybe I should have,” Rebecca said, still not certain it was just a bluff.

  “That would have been something! An Amish girl with Derrick at the movies.” Mrs. Spencer found the thought amusing.

  Rebecca, on the other hand, found the image impossible. The thought of Atlee and her going Mennonite was hard enough to imagine, but an English boy was a chasm no bridge could ever cross.

  “Does he have a girlfriend?” she asked to take the conversation away from her thoughts.

  “Oh, he’s had several—two at the same time, I thought once—although he denied it,” Mrs. Spencer said and frowned, confirming Rebecca’s opinion of Derrick. “He’s a good boy though. No trouble that I know of. But nowadays…well, one never really knows.”

  “I’ve never been to the movies,” Rebecca said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Really?” Mrs. Spencer didn’t sound too surprised. “Seems a little impossible…but I know that’s the Amish way. How do you do it?”

  “Parents. Teaching.” Rebecca shrugged. They were passing Mrs. Spencer’s place now, the big Christmas wreath hanging on the front door, Leona’s driveway just up ahead. “You just don’t.”

  “Sounds good to me. Just never worked for us.” She chuckled again. “Children are hard to raise these days.”

  “I suppose so.” Rebecca was thinking of her own sisters and their squabbles. “Mom has to spank a lot. Says it takes the Lord’s help.”

  “That it does,” Mrs. Spencer agreed, pulling into Leona’s driveway. “There we are. Hope Leona has that baby soon.”

  “Thanks then—for the ride,” Rebecca said, as she got out.

  “Oh, you’re sure welcome. I might see you later,” Mrs. Spencer said, as she drove slowly away.

  Rebecca stood in the driveway, struck by the stillness in the air. Why is it so quiet? she wondered.

  The desire for human conversation returned—she wanted to talk to someone about Atlee. And it was then that the thought occurred to her that she must go and see Emma if she could find the time.

  She hoped with all her heart she could. If the baby came today or early tomorrow, there would not be time, but if he came later, there might be. If she went in right now, prepared supper, cleaned what needed to be cleaned, and made some of the breakfast for tomorrow, Leona would surely let her go even today.

  She could take the horse and buggy by herself because it wasn’t used during the day. Leona could remind her of where Emma lived, and she would go and have a nice talk with her. Maybe Emma would know how to help her. She always knew best. If nothing else, Emma would simply tell her that there was an answer in God’s answer book, and though she might never understand something in this life, it would be revealed on the other side.

  Entering the house, she found Leroy and James standing around the recliner, looking at their white-faced mother who was clutching at the arms of the chair, her fingernails digging into the cloth.

  “The baby’s coming,” she whispered before Rebecca had even closed the front door. Leroy and James were close to tears.

  Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat. I have been gone too long! I should have come back sooner. And there was also the realization she would not be going to Emma’s. Yet, collecting her thoughts, she shoved aside her own plans and gave herself to the urgency of the moment.

  “What shall I do first?”

  Leona was breathing deeply, the contraction having passed for now. “Take the bag over there.” Leona pointed to the hallway. “I got the children’s clothes ready as soon as I knew it was coming. There’s underwear, some shirts, and pants for the boys. Work clothes for the girls. They can wear the same dresses tomorrow for school. They’ll figure all that out themselves. Go down to Mrs. Spencer’s. Tell her it’s time. She’ll know what to do. If she doesn’t remember, tell her to go to Fannie’s first with James and Leroy. She can pick them up on the way back. Fannie will then pick up the rest of the children at school with her buggy—and then the midwife. I think there’s time for the midwife to bring her own buggy. That way she can leave when it’s over. The midwife likes it better that way—she won’t have to bother a taxi for a way back.”

  “I’ll be right back then,” Rebecca said. “I just saw Mrs. Spencer’s place. It won’t take long.”

  Leona nodded, another contraction beginning, and whispered, as her fingers dug back into the armchair, “The baby won’t come that quickly. It takes awhile.”r />
  Even with that assurance, Rebecca found herself hurrying, the brown bag of clothing held tightly against her.

  She quickly arrived at Mrs. Spencer’s and knocked loudly.

  The woman opened the door and said, “The baby is coming?”

  “Yes. Leona said you would know what to do. Here is the clothing to leave at Fannie’s for the children.”

  “How’s she doing?” Mrs. Spencer asked. “Here, step inside while I get my coat.”

  She held open the door, as Rebecca stepped inside and stood in the foyer. “I wasn’t there when it started. She was already in labor when I walked in the door.”

  Mrs. Spencer bustled about finding her keys on the kitchen table and then took her coat out of the closet. “You might as well ride with me,” she told Rebecca.

  “Oh! I can walk!” Rebecca said.

  “I’m going there anyway, dear. You might as well ride.”

  “Okay.”

  As they pulled out of the driveway, Rebecca asked, “What do I do if the baby comes while I’m alone with her?”

  Mrs. Spencer smiled. “They normally don’t come that quickly. But just in case, why don’t I stop by after I let the midwife know. I’ll stay with you until she comes. Would that make you feel better?”

  “I wouldn’t expect that.”

  “I understand. But, really, it’s not a problem. You never know about these things. Leona’s an expert at this, but they seem to come faster the more you have.”

  “Well, it would be nice if you would come. It would be better than being alone,” Rebecca said. Mrs. Spencer then pulled to a stop in Leona’s driveway. “I’ll get Leroy and James and be right back.”

  Mrs. Spencer waited as Rebecca bustled the two boys out.

  “Vo sinn miah un gay?” James asked.

  “To Fannie’s,” Rebecca told him.

  It seemed to satisfy him. Leroy followed his brother to the car, and they climbed in, James in the front.

  “I’ll be back,” Mrs. Spencer said as Rebecca closed the car door. She pulled away, and Rebecca watched until she turned right on the state road.

  Walking into the house, Leona was still in the recliner. “I’ll take a glass of water,” she said, apparently between the contractions at the moment. “Did everything go okay?”

  Rebecca nodded. “Mrs. Spencer has left with the boys. She said she would stop back by and wait with us until the midwife comes.”

  “That’s nice of her,” Leona whispered, as the pain began again.

  True to her word, Mrs. Spencer walked in without knocking twenty minutes later. She hurried about, doing things that Rebecca would never have thought to do, said all kinds of comforting words to Leona, and told her to keep breathing when the pain was intense.

  The midwife arrived thirty minutes later. Rebecca went outside to put her horse up in the barn. By the time she came back, Leona was being walked up and down the hall. After a few trips, Leona asked to be taken to the bedroom. After the midwife settled her in and cleared space around the bed, the real work began.

  Mrs. Spencer had to leave at four thirty and made one last effort to encourage Leona, assuring her that she would be fine.

  Stephen came home a little after five, took in the situation, and offered to help wherever the midwife needed him. Rebecca figured food would be something she could do, so she retreated to the kitchen to make and set sandwiches out on the table.

  The baby finally came a little after midnight—a boy with black hair already wrapped around his forehead, a red bundle of rage at being awakened to such a rude world. Laying the child, all wrapped up in a white blanket, on Leona’s stomach, the midwife stood back to give them time together.

  Rebecca noticed the pain leave Leona’s face. It was replaced with joy as her hands closed around the baby. “You’re Jonathon,” she whispered to him. “Welcome to our world.”

  Things then began to settle down. Stephen hitched up the midwife’s horse and buggy, and Rebecca, after a final check on Leona, went to her room and dropped off to sleep just as soon as she got under the covers.

  The ringing of the alarm clock awoke her at six. Half stumbling into the kitchen, she got the breakfast ready for Stephen and packed his lunch pail. After he had eaten and left, she checked on Leona. Little Jonathon was fast asleep, his hands curled around his face, his cheeks still red. Leona too was sleeping peacefully, and Rebecca left them that way.

  Next came baby laundry, baby feedings, baby cries, and the rest of the responsibilities of the family. Rebecca did not go to church on Sunday, but stayed home with Leona. Stephen brought back the news of the sermon and the visitors who had been there, relaying it to Leona, who sat in her recliner in the living room.

  He also said a load was going to Wheat Ridge the following Friday. Did Rebecca want to go along then or sooner?

  In the ensuing discussion between Rebecca and Leona, it was decided that next week was too long to wait, that the Greyhound option would be looked into in the morning.

  Rebecca didn’t voice the desire but hoped that before she left, a visit to Emma might still be worked in.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The following morning—just after the children had left for school—the midwife stopped by to check on Leona. It seemed only seconds after she arrived that Rebecca heard her footsteps hurrying back down the hall.

  As she entered the kitchen, she said, “Go get Mrs. Spencer right away. We need a doctor. I think she may have the signs of blood clots in her leg.”

  Rebecca quickly walked down to Mrs. Spencer’s and explained the situation. Mrs. Spencer willingly dropped what she was doing, drove the two of them back to the house, and carefully helped Leona, Jonathon, and the midwife into the car to take them to the doctor.

  Rebecca stood in the silence of the driveway with Leroy and James beside her, struck once again by the stillness in the air. They watched Mrs. Spencer’s car speed up once it was on the blacktop, the sound fading as it moved farther down the road.

  “Where is the doctor’s office?” James asked. “Is it someplace bad?”

  “No,” Rebecca answered, assuring him, “it’s a good place. Your mom just needs to see him soon.”

  “Is she coming back? And baby Jonathon?” he asked, wanting to know.

  “Of course,” Rebecca told him, hoping she was right. Surely there is nothing life threatening involved. The midwife had seemed worried, but not quite that worried.

  “Let’s go play,” Leroy suggested, looking at his bigger brother, then pulling on his arm with both hands when he got no response.

  “Yes, you can play,” Rebecca told him, thinking he might need to hear her say that. Apparently she was right. James then assented to leaving and followed Leroy across the yard.

  Rebecca returned to the kitchen to wash the breakfast dishes and then started gathering the laundry. Leaving Jonathon’s diapers to soak in a bucket of water, she finished the other loads first, hanging them out on the line.

  On the third trip back to the house, with her hamper now empty of the heaping wash, she heard the crunch of tires on gravel. Quickening her step, she came around the corner of the house to find Leona climbing out of Mrs. Spencer’s car. There was no sign of the midwife. Apparently she had already been dropped off at her own place.

  Mrs. Spencer waved as she left. It was a cheerful enough wave, Rebecca thought, so surely things must be under control.

  “What was it?” she asked, coming up to Leona, who was still standing in the driveway and holding the sleeping Jonathon in her arms.

  “It’s my leg,” Leona said, looking rather gloomily and reaching down to press the spot in question with her hand. “I’m on medication for a blood clot. Good thing the midwife sent me in. She’s good, I must say. Starts out with just a little swelling, but she caught it. The doctor said that the clot is above the knee and that it can be serious, of course, if it breaks loose.”

  “Should you be resting?” Rebecca asked, the hamper still hanging in one hand.r />
  “He said just the opposite. It’s not good for me to be lying around all the time. I’m supposed to stay active—as much as I can.”

  “What’s the problem called?” Rebecca glanced at Leona’s leg.

  “Deep vein thrombosis,” Leona said wearily, letting the words flow off her tongue easily enough as if she had said it several times before. “We’ll just call it the blood clot.”

  “How long before you’re better?” Rebecca asked.

  “Doctor wasn’t sure. He’ll check on me next week again.”

  “Well, then I’m not going home yet,” Rebecca announced without reservation. “I’ll stay a while longer.”

  “Yes, you are going home,” Leona said with equal conviction. “I can get Sarah if I need her. And, as the doctor said, I need to stay active anyway.”

  “Mom would want me to stay, and I’m staying,” Rebecca said, thinking that might end the discussion.

  “Sometimes your mom doesn’t have much sense,” Leona declared.

  “She happens to think her sister is important,” Rebecca said. “And so do I.”

  “I wonder sometimes just how important I am.” Leona’s face suddenly darkened. “Seems like all I do lately is inconvenience other people. Even the children wish their mother would be back for them.”

  “But you are.” Rebecca looked at her with concern. “You’re here.”

  “Not really. It’s hard to bounce back after a baby’s born. And now this time—I have to have this leg problem. And Stephen—poor fellow. He has to deal with a sick wife.”

  “But he understands,” Rebecca insisted. “You’ve been working way too hard too soon.”

  “No, I need to be there for them—all of them—not just the baby. Sometimes it’s just so hard,” Leona said weakly, her hand going to her leg, tears spilling down her cheeks.