Susie was fussing again, so Amy dug into the hospital bag for her bottle. The nurse had kindly prepared two bottles for them, and Amy put one in the fridge. The other was room temperature, and she knew Susie would be fine with it. She sat down in the kitchen rocker and fed her. Susie ate eagerly, looking up at Amy with her wide brown eyes, blinking softly.
“So sweet,” Amy whispered to her. “You’re so, so sweet.”
She burped her and continued to hold her against her shoulder. She rocked her for a few more minutes until she was sure the baby slept. Then she crept upstairs to the nursery. She knew it was ready for the baby; she and Grace had made the finishing touches to the room the week before. Not that they’d done an awful lot. But Amy had insisted that she paint the old dresser an ivory color, even though Grace had thought it was fine. And they had made up the cradle, including a small baby-sized quilt that Widow Markel had made for the coming baby.
Now, Amy walked into the room, determinedly ignoring the grief that pressed against her chest with such fierceness. Later, she told herself. You can grieve later. Right now, you have a job to do.
She put Susie into the cradle, moving the quilt aside. In truth, the baby was swaddled in the hospital blanket, so Amy took the quilt out of the cradle and laid it across the foot of the single bed that was pushed against the wall. She gazed at the bed, thinking that was where she would sleep. But what about Beulah? Amy rolled her eyes and sighed, tiptoeing from the room and leaving the door ajar.
Then she walked back downstairs to the kitchen to put the kettle on.
Chapter Six
Andrew touched the smooth wood of the casket. He blinked hard, still not believing that the body of his wife was inside. He was living a nightmare. When was he going to wake up? When was he going to learn that this was all a mistake? Grace was still alive. She was waiting for their baby to be born. She would come bursting into the room any minute now, telling him supper was on the table.
“A lot of folks will be coming,” Thomas said to him. “I’ll stay with you today.”
Andrew nodded numbly.
“It’s a shame Grace’s parents can’t be here for the funeral.”
It was unnatural. First of all, parents shouldn’t have to bury their children. And if a child did die before the parents, then the parents should be there. Andrew took his hand from the casket. Grace’s parents were knee-deep in taking care of Grace’s grandparents in Pennsylvania. They were elderly and quite ill—the father near death. Andrew was surprised they were both still living, given the amount of care they needed to make it through each day.
Grace’s mother had been beside herself when he’d given her the news. He’d arranged to call them at the closest phone shanty, and he knew Grace’s mother just expected to hear that the baby was born—not that her daughter was dead. They hadn’t spoken long—just long enough for him to share the news and hear that Grace’s mother couldn’t possibly get away. She expected her father to die any day, and they couldn’t leave her mother to face it alone.
The phone call was excruciating. Andrew could barely stand there in the small wooden shanty. And hearing Grace’s mother break down like that, seared into his heart. He couldn’t hang up fast enough.
But now…? Now, he would bury Grace without either of her parents there.
As Thomas predicted, the people started to come. Somewhere amidst it all, Amy brought him a plate of food and he managed to choke down a few bites. He heard his daughter cry, and then Amy’s footsteps on the stairs as she rushed to fetch her.
Amy brought Susie down for a short period of time for people to see her and fawn over her, but then she was gone. As was Amy. More than once, Andrew glanced around for her. Somehow, seeing Amy made Grace feel closer. They’d been such good friends. Amy had been around their house a lot, and Andrew always thought of Grace and Amy together.
He blinked. Amy would be hurting, too.
He blew out his breath and focused on what the bishop was telling him. The next day. The service would be the next day, with Grace’s burial immediately following. Andrew nodded, his mind in a haze. He reached out again and put his hand on the casket. For the next hour or so, he didn’t move. He simply stood there, his hand almost gripping the smooth wood, blankly acknowledging all the people’s sympathy and well-meaning words.
Empty. That was it. He felt empty. More than once, he gave Thomas a look, and Thomas moved forward to stand by him, fielding comments and well wishes. Andrew was exhausted. Suddenly, he wanted everyone to go away and leave him and Grace alone. He sucked in his breath. Leave him alone, he meant. No. That wasn’t right either. Leave him and Susie alone.
When darkness began to fall, people climbed back in their buggies to go home. Andrew somehow managed to thank them all, his face muscles tired from holding in his sobs. The Yoders were the last ones there.
“I can stay the night if you’d like,” Thomas said.
Andrew shook his head. “Nee. But thank you. You’ve been huge help to me. Your family has been like mine during this.”
“At least your parents weren’t alive to see this happen,” Thomas said. He put his arm around Andrew’s shoulder. “Beulah and Amy will stay the night. Help you with the boppli.”
But at that moment, all Andrew wanted was to be alone. He didn’t think he could bear to have Amy and Beulah stay. He couldn’t bear it. He wanted to wail out his grief in privacy.
But Susie? What about Susie?
“I think I’d rather be alone tonight,” he said, staring at the casket.
“But the boppli…” Amy said, overhearing him. “I don’t mind, Andrew. You won’t even know I’m here.”
Maybe not. Maybe if it was just Amy who stayed—but it wasn’t. It would be Beulah, too. And Beulah never did anything quietly or subtly.
No. He couldn’t bear it.
“Thank you, Amy. But I-I’ll be all right. I can care for the boppli. Just tell me what to do.”
He saw the look Amy gave her father. Thomas stepped forward, and Andrew held up his hand.
“I can do it,” he said. “I need to get used to it. I’m her dat. I can take care of her.”
Amy’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you sure…?”
“I’m sure.” Andrew forced himself to look confident. If he wasn’t alone soon, he was going to lose it. Lose it right there in front of everyone. “Tell me what to do.”
And Amy did, giving him worried glances every few seconds.
“And she’s asleep right now, ain’t so?” he asked.
“Jah. She’s asleep. You’ll change her diaper the minute she awakes, won’t you?”
“Jah.”
“And you know how?”
“The hospital gave us those disposable ones. I don’t need to use the cloth ones yet, so it should be easy.”
“Are you sure?” Amy asked and then her cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry. You’ll be fine. I’ll be over first thing in the morning, all right?”
Andrew nodded. Please, please, please. Everyone, just go away.
Amy’s mother and siblings had left. Now, it was just Amy and Beulah and Thomas. The three of them moved to the door.
“Gut bye, Andrew,” Beulah said. “I hear I’ll be staying soon.”
“We’ll be here first thing tomorrow,” Thomas said, taking Beulah’s arm. And with that, the three of them were gone.
Andrew stood in the middle of the room staring at the closed door. The house that had been full of people and talking and crying and children laughing faded into the walls. The silence rang through Andrew’s ears like a loud gong. He turned around and stared at the casket. It was closed now, and he was glad. He wanted to think of Grace moving about, smiling, and even giggling at something silly he’d said.
Was Grace in heaven? He hoped so. She was a good woman and had lived a kind and good life. She was faithful to God and the church.
Odd. Now that everyone was gone, Andrew wished he had someone to talk to. He slumped down onto the sofa and stared at the
floor. Someone had lit the lanterns, and the flickering light made the shadows dance.
Silence. So much silence. His breath caught, and he began to sob. The silence was smashed by his grief. He cried for his loss. He cried for Grace who never got to see her daughter. He cried for his daughter who would never know her mother. He cried for his empty arms. He cried until there was nothing left but the throbbing ache in his heart.
And then he heard something. He raised his head. A thin wail was coming from upstairs. Susie. He shot up and hurried up the stairs and walked into the nursery. His daughter was raising quite a fuss.
“How long you been crying, huh?” he asked, picking her up somewhat clumsily. “I didn’t hear you until just now.”
Susie continued to wail. Andrew brought her to his shoulder and patted her.
“You hungry?” he asked. He walked carefully out of the dark room and made his way downstairs. Amy had told him that the bottles were in the fridge, but that he would need to warm them. He fumbled inside the fridge, bringing out a full bottle. He hadn’t realized how awkward it could be to try and do everything while holding a baby.
It took him some time to finally get the bottle warmed. He tested the milk on his arm like Amy had told him to, and it felt all right to him. Susie hadn’t stopped crying and was now nearly choking on her cries. Andrew was in tears himself before he got the bottle into Susie’s mouth.
She sucked frantically, stopping to hiccup and sputter, causing Andrew to nearly panic. But after a few minutes, she settled down. It was then that he remembered he hadn’t changed her diaper.
He blew out his breath in exasperation. What had he been thinking to send Amy and Beulah home? He couldn’t do this. He stared into his daughter’s face and felt a huge wave of inadequacy. Ach, Grace, I need you, he thought. Susie needs you.
Well. Feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t do. He needed to step up and be both mother and father to this child. And he’d get help. For sure and for certain. But he needed to be able to do these things for Susie, too.
“We’ll be all right,” he said softly, barely getting the words out. He gazed down at Susie who now had her eyes closed. “You and me. We’ll be all right. We’re going to make it.”
He gently pulled the bottle from her mouth. She’d fallen asleep. He chewed his lower lip for a quick second. If he changed her diaper now, she would fully wake up. Poor little thing. She’d already cried enough for days. But if he didn’t change her… He set the bottle on the table and eased himself up and out of his chair carefully so she wouldn’t awaken.
He climbed the stairs and went back to the nursery. He could see only faintly by the light of the moon which flowed into the window. Could he possibly change her in the near dark? How hard could it be?
He laid Susie on the changing table. So far so good. He unwrapped the blanket swaddling her, and she moved. He held his breath and waited. She didn’t wake up. Then he eased her gown up and peeled off the diaper. She woke up then, her eyes wide and blinking. She screwed up her face, and he braced himself for her cries. She let loose, filling the room with her dismay. He grabbed a diaper and tried to open it while holding her steady on the changing table.
She was kicking her legs now and he could hardly get the disposable diaper under her bottom. Tears of frustration filled his eyes.
“I’ll get it,” he said thickly. “I’ll get it.”
He searched for the tabs to close the diaper, but they weren’t there. It was too dark. He couldn’t see properly at all. Amidst her cries and thrashing legs, he tried again to locate the tabs. Where were they? How could this be? And then he realized—he had the diaper upside down. He eased up her bottom and turned the diaper around just as she began wetting the entire changing table.
He grabbed at a cloth diaper that was stored at the end of the table and tried to mop up the mess while keeping Susie safely held down. He pulled up the diaper between her legs and this time, he got it fastened. It was already a bit wet, but at that point, he didn’t care. He pulled down her gown and found it soaked.
He groaned. He couldn’t put her back to bed in a wet nighty. Where were the extra gowns? He glanced around the room and saw the dresser. They’d likely be in the drawer. He picked Susie up, feeling her wetness seep into his shirt. He yanked open the top drawer and felt inside. Why in the world hadn’t he lit the lantern?
To keep her asleep, that was why. Well, that had worked out well.
He grabbed something soft and held it up to the faint light at the window. It was another gown. He put Susie, who was now crying wholeheartedly, back on the changing table and fumbled until he got her gown changed. He dropped the wet one to the floor. He put her back in the blanket and attempted to swaddle her, but it didn’t work. Finally, he gave up, wrapping the blanket around her as best as he could.
He put her to his shoulder and patted her back, walking circles in the room. He tried humming, tried talking gently to her, tried everything he could think of, but still, she cried. Screaming was more like it.
“Grace,” he called out. “Grace… I need help! Help me.”
For a quick moment, he felt wrong and awkward for calling out to his dead wife. But he needed her—how he needed her. His tears mixed with Susie’s as he continued to pace the room. After what seemed an interminable time, she finally quieted. Andrew figured she was so exhausted, she simply couldn’t cry any more.
But even after she stopped, her wails rang in his ears, pounding through his head. He laid her in her cradle, praying frantically that she would stay asleep. She did. He gripped the side of the cradle and stood there, feeling tired enough to drop. Simply drop to the floor. Instead, he stumbled over to the single bed in the room and fell onto it. He was asleep in seconds.
Chapter Seven
Amy sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall in front of her. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. The truth of what had happened over the last two days had come back in a rush and made her feel paralyzed. How could Grace be dead? Dead?
Amy expected to start crying again, but her eyes remained dry. She shuddered and was able to get up then. She quickly gathered together what she would wear to the funeral. Grace had always favored her dark green dress, telling Amy that it made her eyes shine. Amy had never understood what she’d meant, but now, she took the green dress off its peg and laid it on the bed.
She wanted to get to Andrew’s place quickly. She’d lain awake a lot the night before, fretting about Susie. She hadn’t felt right leaving Andrew alone with her last night, but she could hardly argue with him, could she? But she was concerned. Taking care of a newborn baby was a huge task for anyone, let alone a new father who had no experience with babies.
She stepped across the hall and poked her head into Beulah’s room. “Beulah? Get up. I want to get over to Andrew’s right quick.”
Beulah stirred and groaned. “What? What for? The funeral doesn’t start until nine, ain’t so?”
“Jah, but I want to get there to watch over Susie.”
Beulah flopped over on her side and drew the covers up further. “Go on ahead of us, then. I’ll come with Mamm and Dat and the rest of the family.”
“We’re staying over there, you know. For the next few weeks at least.”
Beulah propped herself up on her elbow. “I know. Dat told me, remember? I think it might be a gut idea.”
Amy’s eyes widened. That certainly wasn’t the comment she’d expected. “You do?”
“Jah. Of course. Uh, Andrew needs our help, and uh, well, you know all about bopplis.”
“So do you,” Amy said slowly, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. Just what was her sister thinking? She knew Beulah well enough to know that she only really got interested in something if it would somehow benefit her. Amy just didn’t know how yet.
“Of course.” Beulah threw back her quilt. “But you have a real way with bopplis, Amy. You do such a gut job with them.”
Amy stared at her sister. Compliments? Giving such praise wasn�
��t really their way. Beulah definitely had something in mind.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Beulah said. “Leave me alone so I can get ready.”
Amy backed out of the room. It wasn’t like Beulah to cooperate with much of anything, but there she was, all prepared to get ready in a flash. Well, Amy didn’t have time to deal with that now. Susie needed her.
Amy hustled down to the bathroom. If she got in there first, she could be ready first.
* * *
“Eat something,” Fiona told Amy. “You can’t go over on an empty stomach.”
“Mamm, there’s a ton of food over there.”
Fiona pursed her lips. “You’re right. Of course.”
“And I can fix some of it for Andrew, too. I’m worried about Susie, Mamm. I need to go.”
Beulah came into the kitchen. “All right, Amy. I’m ready.”
Fiona looked at the bag in Beulah’s hand. “So, you will be staying with Amy over there. I can’t imagine why Grace’s folks aren’t heading right this way. It ain’t natural. They could be here in a couple days.”
“I heard Andrew talking,” Amy said. “Grace’s daadi is dying. Her mamm can’t leave.”
“Not even to attend her own daughter’s funeral?” Fiona said sharply, and then gave Amy an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. It ain’t for me to judge.”
“It won’t bring her back, Mamm,” Amy said quietly, her throat tightening. “It won’t bring her back.”
“But the boppli…” Fiona sighed. “Never mind. I never did understand Grace’s folks.”
“You mean you never did like them,” Beulah announced. “We all know that.”
“Beulah,” Fiona cried. “How can you say such things?”
Beulah shrugged. “Because they’re true.”
Fiona glared at her. “You will keep your thoughts to yourself,” she said sternly. “I won’t have you saying such things in public.”
Caring For Susie (Amy's Story Book 1) Page 4
