“And you’re the primary caregiver for your grandparents?”
“I live with them, ya. I help out where I can.”
“Olivia Mae has been a huge blessing to us,” Mammi chimed in. “Our grandsons, they wanted us to move to Maine, but Olivia Mae and I, we both think it’s best for Abe to stay in a place that he’s familiar with.”
Dr. Burkhart attempted to have a conversation with Daddi, but he simply looked at Mammi each time the doctor asked him a question. Once he looked out the window and said, “I bet it’s cold out there.” Dr. Burkhart jotted down a few notes and paged through the forms they’d filled out while they’d waited to be called back to the office.
Finally she turned her attention back to Olivia Mae and Mammi. “Have you noticed any recent changes or deterioration in Mr. Lapp’s condition?”
“He forgets things sometimes, but don’t we all?” Mammi attempted to make a joke of the situation.
But Olivia Mae understood that it was time they come to terms with what they were dealing with. They were well past the point of glossing over the truth of their situation. “Daddi has wandered off several times. When we find him, he seems confused about where he is and also when.”
“When?”
“Sometimes, he thinks it’s the past or he thinks it’s winter when it’s summer. It’s as if his thinking process is jumbled in some way.”
Daddi glanced up, perhaps sensing that they were talking about him. He seemed to notice the doctor for the first time. “Do I know you?”
“We just met, Mr. Lapp.”
Daddi accepted that with the innocence of a child. He nodded, smiled and then leaned forward to confide in the doctor. “We’re going for a treat after this—ice cream. I just love ice cream. Don’t you?”
“I do,” Dr. Burkhart said. “Strawberry is my favorite. What’s yours?”
Instead of answering, Daddi glanced around the office and finally repeated, “We’re going for a treat after this—ice cream.”
The doctor nodded and continued with her questions. “Mrs. Lapp, how would you describe your health at this point?”
“Oh, I’m as fit as the buggy horse in the parking lot. Maybe not as strong as I once was.”
The doctor allowed silence to permeate the room.
Olivia Mae cleared her throat and said, “Sometimes Mammi forgets who I am. Sometimes she calls me the wrong name.”
“I do?”
Olivia Mae nodded, dying a thousand deaths at the look of confusion on her grandmother’s face. “It doesn’t last long, but sometimes she is confused. It’s—it’s different from whatever Daddi is dealing with. She might go for days without an episode, but then it comes on all a sudden with no warning that I can tell.”
Dr. Burkhart scribbled a few additional notes, then as if on some secret signal, a nurse tapped lightly on the door and walked into the office.
“My nurse is going to get you both in a room,” the doctor said. “Mr. and Mrs. Lapp, if you’ll just follow Amy, I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Which left Olivia Mae alone in the office with the doctor.
She told her everything—her fears, Daddi’s growing confusion, Mammi’s unpredictability, their precarious living situation. By the time she was done, the doctor had pushed a box of tissues her way, and Olivia Mae was trying to dry her tears without making her eyes red and puffy.
“You’ve been dealing with a lot, but you did the right thing bringing them in today. Too many times, caregivers attempt to deal with a situation like this on their own. There are things that we can do to help—there are social services for the family, some new medications that might help your grandfather and support groups for you.”
“I’m not sure how much of that they’d agree to.”
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I want you to go back out to the waiting room, make yourself a hot drink and try to lose yourself in one of the fabulous magazines on our coffee table. I think we even have the latest People, which, if I’m not mistaken, features Brad Pitt.”
Olivia Mae wasn’t interested in People or Better Homes & Gardens or even National Geographic. But the hot tea that she made from the Keurig machine did help to calm her stomach, and the thought of Noah—and Lucas and her brothers—praying for them calmed her fears.
By the time they all met back in Dr. Burkhart’s office, she was ready to know what they were facing.
“You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today,” as Abraham Lincoln had said. She’d done a report on him in the fifth grade. She could still remember the tall black hat she’d made out of construction paper. She’d worn it as she read her report in front of the class. She remembered being so nervous that day and thinking that life as an adult would be much easier than life as a student. What she wouldn’t give to go back and be young and carefree again—even for just one week.
Dr. Burkhart got right to the point.
“I want to caution you that I have only done a cursory exam today. My specialty is not geriatrics, though my colleagues and I see many older patients here in our offices. You might want to consult with a neurologist, a psychiatrist or a psychologist. I can give you referrals for any of those.”
“But what do you think?” Olivia Mae asked. Already she felt comfortable with the doctor. She liked the way that the woman spoke to her grandparents, the way she waited for an answer and the amount of time that she was taking with them.
“I believe that Mr. Lapp is somewhere between stage four and five on the Alzheimer’s scale.”
“So he has it? You’re sure?” Mammi’s eyes widened in fear.
Olivia Mae reached over and clasped her hand. As for Daddi, he’d once again taken to playing with the puzzle on the doctor’s desk—sliding pieces left and then right, trying to create the picture of a boat.
“At this point, there’s not a definitive test for Alzheimer’s, but based on the things that you both have told me, as well as my exam of Mr. Lapp, I’d say that it’s highly likely that he does have the disease.”
Olivia Mae wasn’t a bit surprised at what the doctor was saying. She’d known—probably for over a year now she’d known. She’d even gone to the library and used the computers to research the disease. She’d known what diagnosis the doctor would give them, but she hadn’t wanted to face that truth.
These dear people were her responsibility, and there was no unhearing what the doctor had said. “Stage four and five. What does that mean?”
“Stage four is what we call mild and is characterized by decreased ability to manage complex activities of daily life—manage finances or prepare a meal.”
“Abe never was a gut cook,” Mammi murmured.
“Stage five is moderate—the inability to choose proper clothing, that sort of thing.”
Olivia Mae and Mammi exchanged a knowing look. Daddi had insisted on wearing his winter coat and a wool cap when he’d dressed for the day. They’d only dissuaded him by bringing up the idea of ice cream as a treat afterward.
They spoke for the next ten minutes about what could be done to help Daddi’s situation, and the doctor gave them a folder with brochures and pamphlets in it. When Dr. Burkhart turned her attention to Mammi, she smiled and said, “I have somewhat better news for you.”
* * *
Noah ran out of work to do on the roof an hour after Olivia Mae left with her grandparents. He could have gone home. He probably should have gone home. He’d told his brother that he’d try to get back in time to help him in the fields.
But he couldn’t do that.
He needed to stay and talk to Olivia Mae.
So he packed the leftover supplies he hadn’t used back into his buggy, and then he swept the front porch where his hammering had left piles of dust and debris. Satisfied it looked as clean as when he’d shared dinner there with Olivia Mae the night before, he we
nt inside and picked up all the bowls scattered on the floor, shaking his head as he did so. Olivia Mae was one stubborn woman. She’d rather spread a half-dozen pots and bowls around the place than ask for help?
He knew the feeling, though.
It was more than embarrassment or pride; it was a sickening feeling that your problems were too big to admit to—certainly too big to ask help for. He’d felt that way personally for a long time. If he was honest with himself, he’d felt like a freak because he still wasn’t married and everyone his age was. He’d convinced himself that there was something wrong with him and that such a future wasn’t even possible.
But last night, his lesson with Olivia Mae had sent his thoughts veering off in different directions.
He’d actually enjoyed the time he’d spent with her, even playing checkers with her grandfather.
He’d thought about her a lot after he’d left.
And he found himself looking forward to their next lesson.
Not that he was getting emotionally involved with Olivia Mae Miller. He understood that she was out of his league, and besides that—she was probably moving to Maine soon.
He walked through the barn and noticed that the horse stall needed mucking out. After that, he checked on her sheep, though he knew nothing about the animals. He was just wondering if he should leave a note, when he heard the clip-clop of their old buggy horse coming down the lane.
Olivia Mae pulled up to the front porch and helped her grandparents out of the buggy.
“Go inside with them,” Noah said, grabbing the reins of the horse.
“But Zeus needs—”
“I’ll take care of the horse.” He waited for her to nod in agreement, then he led the horse across the yard to the barn, unharnessed the gelding and set him out to pasture. By the time he was finished, Olivia Mae was walking toward him.
“Abe and Rachel doing okay?”
“Ya. They’re resting. The afternoon was tiring for them.”
He studied her a minute, wondering what he should do, and finally it occurred to him to simply ask. “Should I go? Do you want to be alone, or...”
“You probably have things to do at home.”
He shook his head and waited.
“Then I’d like you to stay, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
He wanted to reach for her hand, but she’d already turned away and was walking toward the sheep pen.
“I haven’t formally introduced you to my sheep. This is Ashlee, Gabriela, Izso, Loren, Joann and Alicia.” She touched each on the top of the head as they crowded around her.
Noah couldn’t help grinning. “Is there going to be a quiz?”
“Could you pass one if there were?”
“Nope.”
They both laughed, and all the tension and the worry about Olivia Mae and her grandparents and her home melted away. Everything was okay for this moment, and that was enough. Unfortunately, Noah’s feelings of tranquility lasted about as long as a sheep’s attention span, which was apparently remarkably short.
As they scattered back out into the pasture, chasing something he couldn’t see, Olivia Mae said, “Daddi has Alzheimer’s.”
“They’re sure?”
“As sure as they can be without dissecting his brain. I think—I think I’ve known for a long time.”
“I’m sorry, Olivia Mae.”
“It isn’t your fault.” But she didn’t smile the way she usually did. Instead she began walking down the length of the fence. He hurried to follow her. She picked up a soccer ball and threw it toward the sheep. She stopped to upend what looked like a piece of playground equipment that had been turned over, and she finally plopped down on a stool that was inside the three-sided shelter at the far end of the pasture.
They had a good view of the house from there—the house and the sheep and the entire farm really. It wasn’t very large.
“Did you know one year’s growth of fleece equals about eight pounds of wool?”
Noah shook his head and sank to the ground beside her. The littlest of the sheep—was it Izso or Alicia?—ran over, stopped short and then proceeded to nudge up against Olivia Mae.
“Is that a lot of wool?”
“To me it is. When I first bought the sheep, I had these plans of spinning the wool into yarn and having a little shop of things I’d knitted. I even learned how to card and spin. I had this entire future planned out.”
“You could still do that.”
Olivia Mae shook her head, swiped at her tears and sat up straighter. “On the way back from the doctor’s, we stopped by the phone shack, and I called my bruder. He took the news pretty well, but he says we need to move up there, where I can have more help.”
“We can help you here.”
“He says Mammi and Daddi need to be around their family—their entire family. He says it’s more than I should have to handle on my own.”
Noah didn’t know how to answer that. He only knew that he felt like a rock had landed in the bottom of his stomach.
“And what do you think?”
Olivia Mae shrugged. “I told myself I was staying here in Goshen, here on their farm, for them.”
She looked directly at him now, and the misery in her eyes tore at his heart.
“But maybe I wasn’t. Maybe it was for me, because I didn’t want to move, because I like Goshen more than Maine. Maybe I was being selfish all along.”
“You don’t strike me as a selfish person.”
She let out a sigh, pushed the sheep gently out of her lap, stood and brushed off her dress. When she squared her shoulders, he knew that Olivia Mae, Matchmaker and Caretaker Extraordinaire, was back.
“How long...?” Noah cleared his throat. “How long until you move?”
“Gotte knows.”
“Yes, but do you have any idea?”
She laughed and started walking back toward the pasture gate, toward her responsibilities.
“Ben is going to put an ad in the next issue of the Budget. He thinks we have a gut chance of selling the place before fall. He thinks someone will be looking for greener pastures and snap it up even though it’s small. You know how it is with Plain folk...” She emphasized the last two words and wiggled her eyebrows.
Unfortunately he understood that her bravado was merely a show. Underneath, he suspected her heart was breaking.
They’d reached his buggy when he remembered to ask about her grandmother.
“That wasn’t the only news today. Dr. Burkhart thinks Mammi is having a reaction between her blood-pressure medicine and the statin she takes to lower her cholesterol. She’s going to change one of them, and hopefully the bouts of forgetfulness will stop. She didn’t think that Mammi has Alzheimer’s.”
“That is gut.” Suddenly Noah had an overwhelming urge to do something, anything, to ease Olivia Mae’s burdens. Fixing her roof wasn’t enough. Members of their church should have done that long ago, and they would have—if they’d known.
“How about I take you out to eat tomorrow?”
“I don’t think I can—”
“Leave them for a few minutes? I could ask my sister-in-law to come and sit with them.”
“Nein. It’s not that.”
“What then?”
She’d been standing beside Snickers, running her hand up and down the mare’s neck. Finally she turned to look at him, a twinkle in her eyes. “We’re not dating, Noah. You don’t have to take me out to eat.”
“Oh, ya. Sure. I know that. But the thing is...” He stepped closer and lowered his voice as if he was sharing a secret. “I’ve heard that I’m pretty bad at restaurant dates, and I’m supposed to be learning from you because you’re an expert and all.”
She swatted his arm, blushed prettily and looked at him in a way that caused
his heart to soar. “Okay, Romeo.”
“Who’s Romeo?”
“Romeo and Juliet. Shakespeare.”
When he shook his head, she laughed and said, “Honestly. Did you pay attention at all in school?”
“I don’t remember reading Shakespeare.”
“Maybe we didn’t. Maybe I checked that out from the library. Anyway, it was a compliment.”
“In that case, danki.” He climbed up into the buggy. “Pick you up at six?”
“Sure.”
He was about to call out to the mare when she leaned in and said, “And danki for fixing the roof.”
Her eyes met his, and he thought for a moment that she was going to kiss him, but instead she stepped away and waved as he pulled off down the lane.
* * *
Since Noah had missed out on helping his brother in the fields, he offered to muck out the horse stalls after dinner.
“You won’t see me turning down that offer.”
Which was a nice enough thing to offer to do, but once he was out there doing it, he wondered if he’d lost his mind. It seemed like he’d spent all day around manure—first in Olivia Mae’s barn and now in theirs. The job was messy and smelly and he was sweating by the time he’d finished.
He was surprised when Justin and Sarah walked into the barn, hand in hand. She was smiling as if Justin had just caused the sun to set for her viewing pleasure. Justin wasn’t wearing his hat, and his hair stuck up in the back with a cowlick that he’d had for as long as Noah could remember. His nose was sunburned, his pants a bit ragged at the hem and he’d spilled something from dinner on his shirt. Sarah didn’t appear to notice any of those things.
It was obvious to anyone with eyes that they were crazy about one another, but since he’d been home Noah had come to understand that what these two shared went deeper than that. Neither was perfect, and he’d seen them argue a time or two. Regardless of the reason, within a few hours they’d be holding hands again. Maybe that was what Olivia Mae had meant. What was it she’d said when they were eating on her front porch? That all women want the same thing that men do—to be respected.
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