Pausing for breath, he scanned Marie’s face again, preparing himself to see the same thing he saw yesterday and the day before, and the day before that: his lovely wife sleeping.
But now her eyes were open.
He was so surprised, he was sure his mouth was hanging open. With a shake of his head, he leaned closer. “Marie? Marie, mein lieb, are you awake?”
When she merely stared at him, her blue eyes looking vacant, panic set in. Had her terrible fever injured her mind?
“Marie, do you know where you are? Can you understand me?”
After a clumsy attempt to form words, she nodded.
“Oh, praise God!” After glancing through the windows but seeing no one to gesture to, he reached for the call button. “Marie, I am so, so glad to see your lovely blue eyes.”
Just like that, her gaze softened, bringing the compassion and love into her expression that had always been his refuge.
“Elsie?” she said after a bit more of a struggle.
“Jah. I was speaking of Elsie. But not to worry. She’s all right. I mean, she will be. It is you who we’ve all been worried about.” Unable to stop himself, he bent down and pressed his lips to her brow. “Marie, I’ve been so worried. So worried.”
“Peter,” she rasped, then curved her lips slightly.
And that half smile felt like it illuminated the whole room.
At last, he rang for the nurse. “My Marie is awake,” he announced, his voice loud and joyful. After the nurses told him they’d be right in, he turned back to Marie. “They’ll be right here, dear,” he said. “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”
A line formed between her brows. “You’ve been here, haven’t you?”
Her voice sounded as if it was filled with wonder, as if she couldn’t believe that he would be sitting by her side as much as possible.
“Jah. I have,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “For days and days I’ve been here. We’ve all been here—Roman and Viola and Elsie. Lorene and Aden. My parents.”
“Aden is in Ohio?” She shifted, looking like she was struggling to sit up.
To stop her, Peter laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Easy, Marie. You’ve been mighty sick,” he murmured. “But yes, Aden is here. Judith, too. As is their daughter Beth. Sam and Mary Beth have been coming up to the hospital as often as they can. Even Jacob and Martha have been calling regularly to check your progress. We’ve all been worried about you. Frankly, Marie, I—”
His next words were cut off by the rush of nurses and the doctor. As they crowded around Marie, he stepped to the side, allowing them to check her vitals, to do their jobs.
Standing against the wall, he was grateful for the few minutes of reprieve. Closing his eyes, he let tears of relief fall while he silently gave thanks and praise to the one who had healed her.
To the one who’d been so instrumental over the last few months. “Danke,” he whispered. It wasn’t much to say, and certainly not poetic, but it was heartfelt. And because of that, Peter knew it was enough for now. The Lord knew he was grateful.
“Peter?” His parents were at the door, Roman and Lorene standing right behind them. Each looked more anxious than the next.
“Did I hear right?” his mother asked. “Is Marie awake? We just arrived to take our shift when we heard the commotion at the nurses’ station.”
He stepped into the hall. “I don’t know too much yet. But she is awake, and she seems to understand what is going on around her, too. It’s a miracle.”
“Praise Got!” Aaron said.
Roman nodded, pure relief filling his eyes.
Wrapping an arm around his son, Peter hugged him close. “This is a wonderful day, Roman. A blessed day.”
“Indeed it is, Daed.” Feeling his son’s strong arms clasp him tightly, Peter’s heart lifted. Marie’s recovery felt like a turning point. At last, he had hope for their future again. Hope that all of their problems were only slight glitches in the total span of their lives. That now that Marie was on her way to feeling better, everything was going to be all right.
He was out of his alcohol treatment program, Roman and Viola were in good relationships, and despite the shocking revelations over the last few months, tensions were easing with his parents.
And through it all, the Lord had been with them, keeping them company, guiding their actions.
After stepping away, Roman gestured to Marie’s hospital door. It was closed. They could hear the nurses talking with Marie, but not clearly enough to discern what was being said. “Daed, when can we go see Mamm?”
“As soon as the doctors and nurses say we can.”
But the wait was longer than expected. After a few minutes, one of the nurses left. A little bit later, Marie’s doctor walked out with little more than a cursory glance at the five of them waiting in the hall.
Peter’s parents took two seats nearby while Roman walked to the nurses’ station to use their telephone to call home.
As the minutes passed and no other doctor or nurse exited the room, some of his optimism began to fade.
As Peter glanced at his father, he saw much of the same resignation on his face.
“It’s out of our hands. The Lord is in charge,” his father murmured, his voice steady and sure. Like it had always been during times of trouble. “He is holding Marie’s hands now, and working through the doctor and nurses, too. We have to believe that.”
“I do,” Peter murmured before bending his head down to pray again.
Over and over he asked the Lord to help Marie, and to give them all the strength to care for her in the ways that she needed them to.
As he prayed, he was aware of Roman returning, murmuring to their father, then joining them in prayer.
Then, at last, Marie’s door opened and Dr. Bolin poked his head out.
They sat up abruptly, Peter slowly getting to his feet. As he stared at the doctor, he realized he was holding his breath. Peter could feel the collective tension whipping around them as they waited for the doctor’s words.
“I do believe Marie has turned the corner. With more rest, I see no reason why she won’t make a complete recovery.” He smiled kindly. “Would you like to see her now?”
Feeling like he’d just gotten the wind knocked out of him, Peter continued to stare at the doctor. “Are you sure that she . . . that my Marie going to be okay?”
Dr. Bolin smiled softly. “I think so, Peter. I examined Marie and read her charts. It looks like we’ve finally made it through the worst of it. Marie is on her way to a recovery.”
“Danke,” he said to the doctor.
“You’re welcome, though I think my work was only part of it. The whole staff has been monitoring her closely, you all have been here at her side the whole time . . . and we’ve all witnessed your prayers.” He smiled kindly. “Together, it all helped.”
After shaking the doctor’s hand, Peter led the way to Marie’s doorway. Inside, Marie was sitting up, dressed in a fresh hospital gown, and watching them hover with something that looked like amusement in her eyes.
One of the nurses chuckled as she saw how dumbstruck they all were. “It’s okay,” she said.
Hesitantly, he stepped forward, the others at his heels. “Marie,” he said softly. “Look at you.” It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago she’d been asleep for days.
“You look much improved, daughter,” Lovina said.
“I wish I could say the same about all of you,” Marie replied. “Peter, you’re so pale, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said around a tired smile.
Peter felt like he was seeing a ghost.
But then Roman pushed his way forward, sat on the edge of Marie’s bed, and reached for her hand. “Welcome back, Mamm,” he said with a smile. “We missed you!”
The rest of them couldn’t help but chuckle. Only Roman could sound so relaxed after such a trying string of days.
Marie reached out her arms for a hug. “I missed you too,
boo,” she whispered into his neck. “I’ve missed you, too.”
As Peter stood flanked by his parents, he realized that his prayers really had been answered.
And then he let the tears flow unashamedly down his cheeks.
chapter nine
It was Monday afternoon. The whole house was in an uproar after hearing the wonderful-gut news about Marie’s recovery.
While Viola and Beth went with Aden to the hospital, Elsie made the choice to stay with Amanda and make some cookies and casseroles. If Elsie knew her mother, the moment she started feeling better, she would want to start managing the household again. The only way to encourage her to rest was to have everything in order before she came home.
“What do you want to make first?” Amanda said. “Oatmeal cookies or chicken-and-stuffing casserole?”
“Let’s make the cookies,” Elsie decided. “The kids can have a few while we are working on the other dishes.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Amanda turned on the oven, then left to check on Regina, Lindy, and Caleb.
Elsie busied herself with getting out the ingredients for the cookies. She hardly needed the recipe; she’d made them so many times. But after she got out the mixing bowl and combined the brown sugar and the butter, her eyes began to betray her.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t read a single word on the recipe card. Her head started to pound behind her eyes as she squinted, trying to discover whether the recipe called for one tablespoon or one teaspoon of cinnamon, baking soda, and salt.
To her dismay, it seemed as if her vision had decided to take a sharp downward turn over the last week. Tears of frustration pricked her eyes as she realized that she wasn’t going to be able to hide how bad things had gotten for much longer.
And just as frightening as the degeneration was the knowledge that her family would use it as an excuse to shelter her all the more.
That was the last thing they all needed, especially with her mother likely to come home from the hospital in the next day or two. Elsie didn’t want all the attention centered on her instead of her mother.
She’d been concentrating so hard on trying to decipher the recipe’s squiggly words and on her frustration, she didn’t hear Amanda enter the kitchen until she was standing at her side.
Amanda laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Elsie, what’s wrong?”
“I . . . I’m having trouble reading the recipe,” she admitted.
After a pause, Amanda picked up the card. “What did you have trouble reading?” she asked, her voice even and matter-of-fact.
“I, uh, can’t read the measurements for the seasonings,” she said reluctantly. “I can’t see the exact measurements.”
“It says here we need one teaspoon of cinnamon, one teaspoon of baking soda, and a pinch of salt. Does that help?”
“Jah.” Swallowing her pride, she said, “Could you read the rest of the recipe out loud to me?”
“Of course.” Slowly, she recited the amount of flour and oatmeal needed, as well as the note her mother had made about vanilla.
When everything was in the bowl, she picked up a metal spoon. “Danke, Amanda. I’ve got it now.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned away and started cutting up vegetables. But even with her poor eyesight, Elsie knew Amanda was struggling with holding her tongue.
Elsie felt Amanda’s gaze as she stirred, then dropped spoonfuls of cookie dough onto the baking sheet. As one minute bled into two, Elsie braced herself for the inevitable lecture.
But Amanda stayed silent, the sound of her chopping more vegetables into neat, uniform pieces their only company.
Only when the cookies were almost ready to come out of the oven did Amanda speak.
“Elsie, what are you going to do?”
Elsie could have played dumb but she knew exactly what Amanda was referring to. She sighed. “I’m going to go to the doktah soon.”
“When, exactly?”
“When things settle down around here,” she replied, wincing. Even to her ears the excuse sounded feeble. She opened the oven door and busied herself with taking out the tray of cookies.
“You need to make an appointment, Elsie. You should have already made an appointment. We both know that.”
“I said I will.”
“Elsie . . .”
“There’s no hurry. My sight has only recently taken a turn for the worse.” Then, of course, there was the little matter of her being afraid to see the doctor and hearing what his prognosis was. Sometimes not knowing the truth was easier than confronting it head-on.
Amanda continued to work on the casserole, not looking Elsie’s way. But her attention did not waver. “You’re playing with fire, Elsie. It’s wrong to ignore your problems, and you know it.”
Elsie expected this kind of bossing from her sister, Viola, but Amanda was new to their family, and had seemed more reserved. This insistence was surprising. “I thought you would be more understanding.”
Her voice gentled. “Elsie, my first husband died of cancer. Since then, I’ve had a little girl to raise by myself. I couldn’t have gotten through any of it if I had been an ostrich. You can’t ignore your body. It’s a mistake to ignore a problem, and a bigger mistake to not get help when you need it. ” With a grimace, she added, “Believe me, I tried.”
“You don’t understand. You’ve seen my family already. If my vision is worse, my family is going to treat me like a child, even more than they already do.” Worse, like a prisoner, not letting her do anything without supervision.
Amanda turned from her preparations and looked at Elsie. “Listen to me. If you are pretending to see better than you can, something terrible could happen. What are you going to do if you hurt yourself or someone else?”
“I won’t. At least, I hope I won’t,” she added under her breath as she picked up a spatula and started carefully transferring the cookies to the countertop to cool.
“But what if you do?”
Amanda’s voice was so solemn, Elsie forced herself to stop and really look at her. That’s when she noticed how very worried she was. Not just about Elsie, but about Regina, too.
A lump formed in Elsie’s throat as the reality of her denial hit her hard. What would she do if she accidentally hurt Regina?
“All right. All right. I promise I will call the doctor.” Sometime soon.
To her surprise, Amanda walked her to the phone. “How about you call right now?”
“Amanda—”
“Call now or I’m going to tell Roman. And we both know what he’ll be like.”
“That’s not fair.” Roman would bully her, practically drag her to the doctor, appointment or not.
“Don’t you understand that there is nothing ‘fair’ about what happens to a person? People get sick and hurt. Accidents happen. God doesn’t give everyone only what is fair. Instead, He gives us what He thinks we can handle.”
Elsie wanted to protest again. But under her sister-in-law’s watchful expression, she realized that she no longer had a choice about what to do. And worse, she realized that Amanda was right and she’d been wrong. There was something worse than knowing the truth about her blindness—hurting someone she loved through her stubbornness and fear.
Feeling resigned, she picked up the phone. Taped to the inside of one of the kitchen cabinets was Dr. Palmer’s card. “Amanda, could you dial the number?” She couldn’t bear to admit that she couldn’t discern any of the numbers.
But then she realized she was fooling herself more than her sister-in-law. Amanda probably knew she couldn’t read the numbers at all.
“Of course.” She punched in the numbers, then handed the phone to her.
It only rang twice. “Doctor Palmer’s offices,” a pleasant voice said upon answering. “May I help you?”
“Yes. This is Elsie Keim. I’m . . . I’m afraid my vision has gotten worse. I need to come in.”
After a pause, the receptionist said, “Well, Elsie, I’m sor
ry to hear that. Is it an emergency? Do you need to come in this week?”
“It’s not an emergency. But I should probably come in soon,” she said, not daring to look at Amanda.
“Please hold.”
As she held the line, Elsie felt her stomach start to churn.
Finally, the receptionist returned. “Elsie, I just spoke with Dr. Palmer. He wants to see you, but he’s booked fairly solid. Is there any way you could call us early next week? Sometime on Monday? By then, he should know when he can squeeze you in.”
Glad for the tiny reprieve, Elsie took it and held on tight. “Jah. I mean, yes, I can do that. Danke.”
When she hung up, she explained the situation to Amanda. “So, I should be seeing the doctor sometime next week,” she said at last.
“I wish you had an appointment, but I guess he’s a busy man. Well, listen, I’ll go with you if you don’t want to ask anyone else,” Amanda said.
“You’re not going to let me sneak to this appointment, are you?”
“I’m sorry, but I won’t. This is too important. You are too important, Elsie.”
It looked like the decision had been made. In a week, the news that she’d been dreading forever would become fact.
chapter ten
The floors of the kitchen they were sanding now felt as smooth as a newborn lamb’s fleece.
Satisfied with the job they’d done, Daniel and Landon decided to end their day a little early. Tomorrow morning, they’d have Zip and Craig meet them at the house, and the four of them would apply layer after layer of stain, rubbing the color in with soft rags until Daniel was satisfied with the depth of color.
Landon headed home and hit the shower, washing the dust and grime off his tired body. He was just about to make a thick turkey and ham sandwich when Roman knocked on the door.
“Roman?”
“Hi. I was hoping you’d be home.”
The Days of Redemption Page 51
