“Dora.” Jacob bent, rolling down his pants legs, using the time to think. He didn’t want to apologize for going out with her. That would only be an insult. And he certainly wasn’t sorry for the time he’d spent with Esther. He stood upright. “I know Esther isn’t married, but I learned it a month after you and I stopped dating.”
“So you’re dating my sister?”
“No.” Esther shook her head.
Dora pointed the package at Esther. “I found this in the attic, and when I realized what it was, my heart fluttered, thinking you’d found a way for me to make contact with Jacob and for us to have a connection. I’m such a fool. I should’ve known you hadn’t changed. You planned the breakup from the day you met him, didn’t you? You’d get him to dump me and chase after you, the pretty one.”
“Dora, I haven’t told you everything, but it’s not like that.”
“It’s always like that! Did she tell you, Jacob? The men are either unworthy of me, so she runs them off, or they look past me to her. What is it about a used-up, older woman that attracts the men, Esther?”
“Dora …” Esther’s calm response was a huge contrast to Dora’s flaring emotions.
“Don’t you ‘Dora’ me! When you learned that a new man in town had asked me out, you promised to stay away from him. You gave your word!” Dora’s face was scarlet red.
Esther drew a deep breath. “We ran into each other, almost literally.”
Dora scoffed. “I bet that happenstance took a lot of planning, didn’t it?”
Esther’s breathing became labored. Did she have asthma? “You know better than that. You’re just upset—”
“What I know is this was the last straw.” Dora shoved the box toward her, the package shaking.
Jacob understood better why Esther had hoped Dora wouldn’t find out about their friendship until she had someone else. Dora resented her sister to the point that she couldn’t balance her emotions with facts and couldn’t be reasoned with.
Jacob removed his hat. “Maybe we should’ve told you that we’ve become friends. But you and I went on only three dates.”
“You liked me, and then you bumped into her. Even after you broke up with me, you kissed me. Did you tell her that?”
She was using any weapon she had to hurt her sister and come between Jacob and Esther—as if they needed any help with that. All by himself he was doing a fine job of messing up what they had. “There was only one kiss, and you kissed me.”
Dora blinked, looking shocked. Hadn’t she expected him to defend himself? Her surprise soon faded, and she slammed the package on a nearby table. “Esther, don’t ever speak to me again. From here on I have two sisters, not three.” She stormed to the gate of the blind fence and slammed it behind her.
Esther remained glued in place, seemingly resigned to the ugliness Dora had spewed at her. She sighed. “She meant every word. It could be years before she’s willing to forgive me, and make no mistake, she’ll view the whole thing as my fault.”
Where did this leave him and Esther?
Esther went to the table and picked up the box. “I should’ve told you the truth from the start, and after you found out, I continued the cover-up with Dora. It makes me a horrible person, and I hate who I end up being because of her, but I never know how to handle her.”
“Maybe you should stop trying to ‘handle her’ and just be yourself and live your life. I can’t see how you two could’ve ended up worse off than you are now.”
“I can’t argue with that reasoning.” Esther flipped the narrow box from one side to another, staring at it. “She was upset and saying things she shouldn’t have. Her depictions and insinuations about me aren’t true.”
The fact that Dora had tried to turn the kiss she gave him into something seductive was his proof that she twisted the truth. “I believe you … not that anything in your past changes how I feel.”
With his past cleaned up so that he didn’t need to hide and his talking to Esther about anything and everything, his thoughts and understanding had become clear. He now saw situations for what they really were. And he knew they weren’t just friends. There was a spark and something magical between them. And more than that, each of them had a hope of a future together. That wasn’t his imagination lying to him.
“But what is true, Esther? Do even you know?” Could she see that how she felt didn’t match how she treated him?
She pursed her lips, tears falling. “Ya. What’s true is I can’t do this. I know it’s me, and I … I’m sorry.” She put the box in his hands. “This is for you. I’ve been searching for it since before you discovered I wasn’t married. At the time I wanted it to be a thank-you gift. A good-bye gift.” She paused, staring up at him, confusion and hurt floating in her misty eyes. “And as it turns out, that’s what it is. You take good care of yourself, and find a girl you like who didn’t decide never to marry.” She hurried across the pool deck and into the house.
Jacob stood there. An outdoor kitchen waited for him to finish it, and he’d complete the job before he left.
He looked at the parcel. He would be twenty-five at the end of this month, but part of him felt as foolish as a child who’d broken his mother’s favorite item, one that had been passed down for generations, one he wasn’t supposed to have picked up in the first place.
But he’d asked Esther about the two of them dating one day, and now he had no choice—he had to give Esther time before he approached her again. That’s what she did when she mediated with the pregnant girls’ parents—remained available to the parents and protected their children while giving them time to adjust and think about who they really were and what they wanted to do with the facts of the situation.
He opened the box. A doorknob? He picked it up. It was a particularly plain one that appeared to have been painted black a very long time ago. According to what Esther had shared with him, that meant it’d been in a Plain home—either Amish or Mennonite. It had a tag on it: House, circa 1750. Doorknob, circa 1899. Taken from the one-time home of Moses King on Ashen Wood Lane, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, by Esther Beachy, July 2000.
She would’ve been fourteen and visiting her grandmother’s for a few days that summer. It would’ve been right before her Daed got sick. Jacob wasn’t one for looking back, but wasn’t the Moses King at that address the original King homesteader in Lancaster? How many generations back was he? Even with Jacob’s math skills, he didn’t know.
He clutched it, feeling the power of a connection that went back hundreds of years. The question on his mind was, could he get Esther to stop holding on to the past and step into the future?
And if he could, how many years would it take?
THIRTY-SIX
Rhoda, Samuel, and Leah sat in the waiting room filled with Amish people. The three of them had arrived almost an hour ago, and although they’d visited with plenty of relatives, they hadn’t seen Steven yet. He was allowing his parents and Phoebe’s to take turns seeing Phoebe, and the next time he returned to the waiting room, he’d see them.
Her pulse thumped inside her ears. After all this time the next few days would tell where Phoebe and her son would land. Phoebe’s lungs had hardened, unable to stretch as needed to absorb the oxygen the machines pumped into them, and the antibiotic-resistant infection wouldn’t clear up unless they could get her off the ventilator.
But the doctor who’d said Phoebe should start improving once the baby was delivered had been right. Phoebe was still in ICU, and the baby was in the NICU, but Phoebe had improved enough that now, just three days after they’d taken the baby by C-section, they were going to bring her out of the coma. The elasticity to her lungs would slowly return to normal once she was breathing on her own.
Phoebe’s yet-unnamed little one was a fighter. The doctors were pleased with the improvements he was making.
Thankfully, Jacob had returned to Maine unexpectedly early, allowing Samuel and Rhoda to come to the hospital. Crist and Iva were there too, altho
ugh Iva was staying with the bishop and his wife while Samuel and Rhoda were away. But those three would work the orchard and tend to the livestock and dogs. Jojo would cook for them and run any errands necessary for now, but she was thinking of moving in with Bob and Camilla, at least for a few months until she could get on her feet again.
Rhoda had caught a glimpse of the future for Bob, Camilla, Jojo, and Sophia. Jojo and Camilla would slowly and steadily grow closer. Camilla would get to be the mom she’d never been to her own son, and Jojo would have the mother figure she’d always longed for.
Steven strode into the room with Phoebe’s parents. “I thought you’d be here.” He hugged Rhoda. “It’s almost time for them to bring her out of the coma. Her parents don’t want to be in there.”
Rhoda looked at Phoebe’s Mamm. The woman wiped her eyes. “I can’t watch anymore. She’s struggling to breathe, and the doctor said when they cut the ventilator off and on to wean her from it, she’ll struggle harder for a day or two before it gets easier.”
Rhoda hugged her as the woman cried. “You’ve been watching those grandbabies. She’ll be so grateful for that, so don’t feel guilty over needing to come away while she wakes.”
“Denki.” The woman straightened.
“I’m going to take Samuel and Rhoda back now. Once Phoebe is awake and understands what happened to her, we’ll swap who spends time with her, for those who want to go in. But it may be hours before she feels oriented, okay?”
The others nodded, and Steven ushered Rhoda and Samuel down the hall.
Rhoda’s shoes squeaked against the tile floor. “Will they allow three of us in there?” The last time they were here, the staff preferred that only one person at a time be there, but they didn’t question two.
“They’ll allow four of us right now, at least for a few hours if not all day.”
Rhoda tried to keep up with the men’s long strides. “Four?”
“Landon is with her.”
Rhoda grabbed her brother’s arm, slowing him a bit. “He’s in there while Amish friends and family are waiting for time with her?”
“A lot of people go in for their own comfort, but as odd as it may sound, Landon is the one I draw comfort from. We need to—”
Before Steven could finish his sentence, a nurse approached, talking while falling into step with him. “The doctor is by her side, and Phoebe is starting to rouse. Remember what we said: she’s heavily sedated and won’t be able to talk with the trach still in.”
“When will they remove the trach?”
“The tube will be detached soon, but the trach will remain for several weeks. That way if anything goes wrong and she needs oxygen again, it’s in place. She’ll have day surgery, possibly at a doctor’s office, when it’s time to remove it.” She clicked her pen. “Remember, she’ll look different as she wakes.”
“I’ve been told this numerous times. Is there a reason?”
The nurse stepped in front of Steven, blocking the door. “There is. You’ve seen her peaceful for months. You need to be braced for what you may see today. If bringing her around the first time goes badly—if she suffers a seizure or uncontrollable panic—we’ll have to put her under and then try again in an hour or so. That pattern may be repeated a few times, possibly over a two-day period. Okay?”
Steven’s eyes misted. “Thank you for caring.”
The nurse smiled, shoving an ink pen into her pocket. “Let’s do this.”
A doctor stood at the head of the bed, a tiny flashlight in hand as he forced one of Phoebe’s eyes open and flashed the light off and on.
Landon stood, and Rhoda went to him. “Hi.”
Without a hint of reluctance, Landon embraced her and then shook hands with Samuel. Wasn’t he even a little angry with them? Oh, how good it felt to see her friend again.
“Phoebe, can you hear me?” the doctor called. “Phoebe, can you lift a finger for me?” When Phoebe didn’t budge, the doctor turned to Steven. “We may have to let more of the sedatives wear off. We gave her a good dose of tranquilizers before bringing her out of the coma. You try.”
Steven took Phoebe by the hand. “Phoebe. Sweetheart. Can you hear me?” Steven stroked her head. “It’s time to wake. Rhoda’s here. And Samuel. And Landon.”
Phoebe turned her head toward her husband’s voice, her eyes closed and body unmoving. Steven jerked air into his lungs. “That’s it, sweetie.” Tears choked him. “It’s time to wake.”
Her hands moved to her stomach, and her brows knitted tightly.
“You had the baby. We have a beautiful son.”
Rhoda moved near the doctor. “Can they bring the baby to her?”
He shook his head. “Neonatal babies don’t leave NICU. When Phoebe is well enough, she can go to him.”
“Did you hear that?” Rhoda picked up Phoebe’s other hand. “When you’re better in …” She looked to the doctor.
He shoved the little flashlight into the lapel pocket of his lab coat. “Probably in three to six days.”
“Ah. You’ll get to hold your little one in less than a week.” Rhoda squeezed her hand. “That’s not long at all, and then you’ll get a lifetime with him, ya?”
Phoebe seemed pleased, and a tear slid down her cheek, but she’d yet to open her eyes. She moved her hands a bit and shrugged, apparently asking what she could not voice.
Rhoda caressed her hand. “You got real sick. Remember?” She recounted the incident as Phoebe woke and then slept, woke and then slept. The four of them—Steven, Samuel, Landon, and herself—took turns explaining the same information, and by the time the hour was up, Phoebe opened her eyes.
Her gaze centered on her husband, studying his eyes before she smiled. If a picture was worth a thousand words, that moment was worth a million. She seemed to understand that she was safe, the baby was healthy, and her husband had lived a nightmare but he adored her.
Phoebe fell asleep again, and Rhoda felt free to ask questions. “What’s next?”
“It’ll take several days,” Steven answered, though he never took his eyes from his wife. “Maybe even a week to wean her off the ventilator. When she’s free of it, it shouldn’t take long for the bacterial infection in her lungs to clear up. Even after she’s released, she’ll need months of physical therapy to regain muscle coordination and full brain activity.”
“Will you stay with Mamm and Daed during that time?”
“Much of that is up to Phoebe. If she wants to stay in Pennsylvania near our parents and hers, that’s what we’ll do.”
From her chair beside the bed, Rhoda reached through the rail and rubbed Phoebe’s arm. “I hope she wants to return to Maine when she’s better.”
“It might be necessary to stay near the grandparents so they can wait on her and help with the children.” Steven put his hand over Rhoda’s. “Her fight isn’t over, but the battle has been won.”
His words brought peace, and Rhoda remembered fearing that someone else would be taken from her, as her little sister had been. And even though she didn’t want to imagine a future where Phoebe wasn’t with her every day—or Landon or Leah—she accepted that life changed. Whether a person did everything right or nothing right, life never stopped changing.
The only constant was God, who loved, forgave, and strengthened and was the same yesterday, today, and forever.
Relief continued to surge through Landon. Phoebe was out of the coma and was likely to leave the hospital in a week. As he sat in her room, chatting with Rhoda, Samuel, and Steven, he kept an eye on the clock. It’d soon be time to take his appointed turn to go to NICU and feed the baby.
He tried to enjoy the conversation, because it would probably be one of the last with all of them together. Phoebe was awake. The baby was thriving. Surely Steven would soon be ready for Landon to extract his English life from the Amish group.
What he’d like to do is tell Steven bye and slip out of the hospital. Of all the things Landon didn’t want to happen today, seeing Leah
with Crist was at the very top of the list. “Steven, I should go.”
Steven glanced at the clock. “You have nearly twenty minutes before time to feed the baby.”
“Before what?” Rhoda seemed torn between awe and confusion.
“Ya.” Steven arched his back, stretching. “I figure the baby needs the most familiar voices feeding him, and Landon’s been here pretty often, so I talked him into it. Of course, if no one is there at feeding time, the nurses will feed him.”
Rhoda and Samuel glanced at each other, and Landon could only imagine what they must be thinking. They couldn’t afford for him to infiltrate their Amish lives again.
Steven looked more relaxed than he had in months. “I don’t know what I’d have done without Landon these last two months.” Steven chuckled. “Do you think there’s another Amish preacher who has such a close Englisch friend?” He leaned his chair back on two legs. “He doesn’t agree with having a literal interpretation of the Word like the Amish do”—Steven patted Landon on the shoulder—“but we agree on everything that’s important, including that without God’s grace, it doesn’t matter how close any of us get to righteousness.”
Maybe he should pinch himself. Was he awake? Steven hadn’t voiced any of that to him. But they had spent a lot of time talking, mostly about family, farming, and fishing.
Steven put his chair on all fours. “He has good ideas about what needs to be done to help Orchard Bend Farms become what we need.”
Rhoda nodded at Samuel.
“Landon,”—Samuel scratched his face just above his blond beard—“Rhoda and I have been talking, and if you’d be interested, we’d like for you to come back.”
Landon removed his ball cap and settled it back on his head again, but that did nothing to help clear his mind. “I’m confused.”
“Seems fair you should feel that way.” Rhoda straightened the sleeve of her dress. “Your presence has certainly confused us enough, but the bottom line is we want you back. If we’re disciplined or shunned because of it, then so be it.”
Seasons of Tomorrow Page 31
