19

The doctor gave her fifteen stitches across the bald swath where her salt-and-pepper hair had been.

Gordon returned just after the doctor finished his work, and I met him in the hall again. Thankfully, both of our suitcases were in his hands.

I took mine, and he headed in to sit with Aenti Suz. I wheeled my suitcase into the women’s restroom and retrieved a wrinkled apron and dress, but at least neither was covered with blood. I changed, rinsed my bloody clothes out in cold water, and then slipped them into an extra plastic bag I’d packed.

As I returned to Aenti Suz’s room, I saw the woman from the bus whose husband had been taken off first. She told me he was getting a CT scan and would then get stitched up, and it seemed the older man did have a brain injury, but hopefully a mild one. “Ach,” she said. “It could have been so much worse. I’m glad your aunt will be all right.”

Just before noon, Aenti Suz was released. As the nurse pushed her down the hall in a wheelchair, Gordon and I walked on either side of her. I’d grabbed my toiletries bag so I could spend the night with Jessica, but he towed both of our suitcases behind him.

“You must be exhausted,” Aenti Suz said to me.

“I’m fine.” I looked over her head at Gordon. “Tell Mamm to read the discharge paperwork and keep a close watch on her. The doctor said Aenti Suz probably doesn’t have a concussion, but Mamm should be extra attentive, nevertheless.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Aenti Suz said. “Give Jessica a big hug and tell her I’m sorry. And you try to get some rest.”

When we reached the exit, Gordon told me he’d come back after the milking to check on Jessica and me.

I thanked him, hugged Aenti Suz, and then thanked Gordon again. “What would we do without you?” I asked.

“You’d get by just fine,” he answered.

I knew we wouldn’t. But we’d have to figure out how to if he took the job with the shelter.

I stopped by the cafeteria and ordered a bowl of soup, a half sandwich, and a large coffee. I ate the food and then took the coffee with me. When I reached Jessica’s room and stepped inside, she had her eyes closed but then opened them slowly. “Hallo.” Her voice was as soft as it had been on the phone, and her face was as white as the sheet pulled up to her chin.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Better.”

I shivered. If she was better now, Aenti Suz was right about how ill she’d been. She had a bag of fluid hanging on a pole with a tube going into her arm. And there was also a bag of what looked like blood. Again, I felt weak-kneed. I sat down beside her and sipped on my coffee as we talked. “Have you talked to Leisel?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Silas did. I don’t want her to come. The roads are bad, but I think she may try anyway on Saturday. Hopefully I’ll be home by then.” She shifted a little in the bed. “Silas is sick with this flu that’s been going around.”

“That’s what Gordon said.”

She nodded. “He feels horrible to not be here, but of course he can’t.”

I agreed and then thought of how reluctant I was to celebrate their marriage the day of their wedding. And why? Because I’d been critical of Jessica for the last four years, even after she returned to the Amish. Because I felt as if I deserved what she had—more than she did.

And now she’d nearly died.

My face grew warm in shame.

Jessica didn’t notice. “I think it’s harder on Silas than on me right now.”

I didn’t know about that, but I wondered if perhaps she’d rather not have my company and would like to rest instead. I asked her what she needed most. “Stay and talk,” she said. “I’ll let you know when I’m tired.”

She asked me more about the wreck and Aenti Suz and then about Florida. In a lighter voice, she asked, “How is Elijah?”

“Gut,” I answered.

“Did you see him much?”

“Jah,” I answered. “Nearly every day.”

“When is he coming home?”

“In the spring, probably May.”

I told her about the beaches we went to, the volleyball and basketball games, and the community of people in Pinecraft. Then I told her about the singing.

“Sounds amazing,” she said. “I know how much you love music.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it.

“I think you and Silas would really like Pinecraft.”

She smiled a little. “Maybe when we’re retired. I don’t see how we could go before then.” She came back to the topic of Elijah. “So he’s going to farm, right?”

I paused a moment. “Jah . . .”

“What’s with the hesitation?”

I shrugged. “He said he’s not thrilled about it, but he’ll do it anyway.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Jessica grimaced. “It’s a lot of work no matter what, but even more so for someone who doesn’t enjoy it.”

When I didn’t respond, she sat up a little in bed. “Gordon told us some about his week there. He was happy to see you.”

“It was good to see him too.”

“I’m sorry you had to come home early. And now, with all of this that happened with Aenti Suz, you shouldn’t have. I feel horrible.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re so sad about you losing the baby and so glad Gordon called us.” Again, I felt embarrassed by my initial reaction. Sitting beside her, I was relieved Gordon had called. How could I have been so selfish when I first heard the news?

She told me that Arden’s family had the flu too. “Gordon did the milking by himself yesterday.”

That must have taken him hours. Hopefully there was a neighbor boy who could help today.

Soon, her eyes drifted closed. There was a recliner in the room, and I curled up in it and slept too. When I awoke around supper time, Gordon was back in the room, and a doctor was talking with him and Jessica. I pushed the recliner down and stood.

“You can go home tomorrow as long as you stay away from anyone who is running a fever. You’re susceptible to illness and infection, not to mention pneumonia.”

“You can come to Mamm’s,” I said. “Or, better yet, Aenti Suz’s. I can care for you there until Silas is well.”

“Poor Silas,” Jessica said. “He doesn’t have anyone to take care of him.”

I asked, “Can’t his Mamm?” But as I spoke, I realized how hard it would be for Edith to travel back and forth to the farm where Jessica and Silas lived. She had a few calves to take care of at her place.

“I’ll check on him tonight,” Gordon said. “And then I’ll be back in the morning. If all goes well, I can give you both a ride home, hopefully before noon.”

The doctor nodded. “That sounds like a good plan.”

As the doctor left, a nurse came in with supper. Jessica raised the bed and said, “I’m going to try to eat as much as I can. You two should go down to the cafeteria and do the same.”

I covered my mouth as I yawned. “Don’t you want some company?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Just come back when you’re done.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to go eat with Gordon, and he appeared uncomfortable too. But I didn’t want to make a big deal about it in front of Jessica.

Once we reached the main floor, Gordon pointed toward the exit. “There’s a little café around the corner. Want to go there?”

“All right,” I answered, although I still felt groggy and uncomfortable. But I figured the fresh air might do me good.

Gordon ordered a hamburger, and I ordered a bowl of minestrone soup. Being awake for so long and the trauma of the day was catching up with me, and I thought the soup was all I’d be able to get down. I felt shaky again, and it must have shown.

“Are you all right?” Gordon asked. “Do you want me to take you home?”

I shook my head. “No. I mean, I’m not feeling horrible. Just out of sorts. And, no, I don’t want to go home.”

He looked at me appraisingly for a moment, and then must have decided to try to take my mind off of the day, because he switched from being so serious to being chatty. After the waitress delivered our food, we shifted to talking about Florida. I told him how powerful the singing had been for me.

“In what way?” Gordon asked and then took a bite of his burger.

“There are a couple of ways. I shouldn’t admit this, but I really enjoyed singing with the instruments. I also felt as if I were worshipping the Lord in a way I’d never experienced before. I felt a new freedom, a harmony different from what I’ve felt before.”

“That’s wonderful,” Gordon said.

I nodded, taking a bite of my soup, and then saying, “It felt transformative. I just hope it will last.”

He smiled gently. “I know the feeling.”

I asked if he’d heard from Josh since coming home.

He nodded. “From what he told me, the singing at the Pinecraft Park was the highlight of the week for a lot of us. But that’s not all he said. The director of the shelter has a contact who may give Josh a job, and another who might be able to help him find housing.”

“That’s great,” I said.

Then he shared his thoughts for the next year in Pinecraft when his team would return for another week of ministry. My heart contracted. I wouldn’t be there. Most likely, Elijah and I would be married by then.

As he finished his burger, I asked if he’d decided about the job at the shelter, and he shook his head, his face reddening.

“I haven’t said anything to anyone,” I assured him. “And I promise I won’t.” I hoped he knew that I would be a good friend to him.

Changing the subject, I hesitantly said, “I have a question about playing the guitar. Was it hard to learn?”

He shook his head. “I started when I was eight.”

“How about the harmonica? Is that hard to learn?”

He shook his head again and then said, “For you, any instrument would be easy to learn.” Then his face reddened again and he said, “I’m sorry, I keep sticking my foot in my mouth.”

I laughed. “I’m the one asking the questions.”

He leaned across the table. “But why? It’s not as if you can play any of them.”

“My Dat played the harmonica,” I said.

Now he leaned back in his chair. “You’re kidding.”

“No. I remember it from when I was a child. I’d sing along. Sometimes he’d let me try.”

“I’m so surprised,” he said. “I really wish I could have met your Dat.”

I nodded. He had died right before Gordon started working for us. “Dat was very gifted—and sneaky. He made up this silly ‘Cat, Dog, Elephant’ song when I was little, and Paula said that in doing so, he taught me notes.”

Gordon raised his eyebrows.

“Jah. The other ‘notes’ were frog, goat, ant, and bull.”

Gordon laughed. “Paula was right. He did teach you the notes.” He leaned forward. “She told me that you have perfect pitch.”

My face warmed, and then I shrugged. He was right, but it wasn’t as if any of this would make a difference in my life. “Do you know a song called ‘Turn, Turn, Turn’?”

He smiled. “My mom used to sing that when I was little.”

“My Dat played it on the harmonica,” I said. “Sometimes he’d sing it too.”

Gordon began humming the tune, and I joined in. Then we both smiled. “To everything there is a season,” Gordon said.

I added, “And a time to every purpose under the heaven.” My eyes filled with tears as I spoke.

“It’s from a passage in Ecclesiastes.”

I nodded. “Chapter 3.”

“Maybe that’s why your father sang it,” Gordon said.

I swiped at my eyes, thinking about Dat choosing that particular song. Another tear escaped.

Gordon placed his hand on the table, as if reaching out to me. “You okay?”

I nodded, swallowed hard, and pushed my half-eaten bowl of soup forward. “We should get going.” Why did it hurt to share a sweet moment with Gordon?

He stood to pay at the counter, even though I insisted I could pay for my own. Once we bundled up, we headed out into the cold. As we walked, he asked when Elijah was coming home.

“May,” I answered.

He didn’t say anything more until we reached the front doors of the hospital. “I’ll leave you here.” He opened the door for me. “And see you in the morning.”

I stood at the door and watched him through the glass as he headed to the parking lot. He walked briskly into the wind, his head up.

How would I feel about Gordon Martin if he were Amish? And owned a farm? I shivered, even though the lobby was warm. I was pathetic.

When I arrived back in Jessica’s room, she was sitting up and reading a copy of The Budget that I guessed Gordon had brought her. She said she was feeling a little better. “How was your supper with Gordon?”

“Gut,” I answered.

“I don’t know what we would have done without him the last couple of days.”

I nodded. If nothing else, Gordon was dependable. But the truth was, he was much more than that.

“Have you ever asked if he’d join the Amish?” She smiled for the first time all day. And then winked at me.

I just shook my head, not bothering to answer. We all knew he wouldn’t.

“I know this sounds like a ludicrous question, but have you ever thought of becoming Mennonite?”

I gave her one of my looks.

“Jah,” she responded. “I didn’t think so.”

The next morning when the doctor arrived, he spoke with Jessica for several minutes. When they finished the conversation, he told her again how sorry he was that she’d lost the baby. “Your chances of conceiving are lower now, of course, but there’s no reason to think you won’t go on to have a normal pregnancy. Most likely, many more.”

She thanked him, and then he typed some notes into the computer, saying he was writing up the discharge order. “The nurse will be in soon to help you get ready.”

I called Gordon to tell him Jessica was being discharged.

By the time he arrived, Jessica was dressed and had signed all of the paperwork. Gordon went to get his car and met us at the hospital exit. Once we reached the first floor, there was a woman ahead of us in a wheelchair, a baby in her arms. My heart ached for Jessica.

Thankfully, Gordon’s car was waiting, and the nurse and I quickly got Jessica into the back seat. Gordon handed me a quilt to put over her. I’d forgotten how cold his car could be. Thankfully, it wouldn’t take us long to get home.

When we reached the house, I hurried up the steps first so I could talk with Mamm about if we should have both Jessica and Aenti Suz out in the Dawdi Haus. When I stepped inside, Aenti Suz was standing at the kitchen sink, the stitched side of her head toward me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Your mother came down with the flu. I’m fixing her some tea.”

“Oh no,” I moaned. “I’ll be right back.” I headed up the stairs to Mamm’s room. The door was opened, and I stopped there. I told her I was sorry she was ill, and then presented my proposal. Gordon would bring Silas to our house and then ask Edith to come care for both Silas and Mamm, while I cared for Aenti Suz and Jessica in the Dawdi Haus. A neighbor would have to take care of Edith’s calves.

“Good idea,” Mamm answered. “I was careful to stay clear of Suz this morning because I felt feverish. She’s making me tea, but she was going to leave it in the doorway.”

“Gut,” I answered. “Hopefully she hasn’t been exposed.” The truth was, Silas had probably already exposed Jessica, but I believed we should still do our best to keep her from being exposed again. I told Mamm I’d come see her soon, and then hurried back downstairs.

Gordon and Jessica were in the living room, but I told them to keep on going, straight out to the Dawdi Haus. And then I asked Gordon if he could go get Edith and Silas and bring them both to the farmhouse. It meant John Stoltz would have to do his chores by himself until Silas recovered, but at least John didn’t have a dairy herd, so there was no milking to do.

My plan worked. I took care of Jessica and Aenti Suz while Edith nursed Mamm and Silas. Gordon did find a neighbor boy to help with the milking, and it turned out that Vi had fallen ill first in their family and was now on the mend enough to care for Arden and their children.

There were several times when I saw Jessica with tears in her eyes, and the rush of emotion I felt for her surprised me. Both for my sister and for the baby that had been lost. On Saturday, around noon, Leisel arrived. Unannounced.

I gasped in delight when she walked through the door, bringing a burst of freezing wind with her, although my next reaction was worry. “How were the roads?”

“Fine,” she answered. “How is everyone here?”

Jessica was on the couch and gave her a little wave. Leisel sat down beside her and gave her a hug and then whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Aenti Suz came out of her bedroom and Leisel sprang to her feet, rushing toward her. “Oh, you poor thing!”

After she gave her a hug, she examined her stitches. “Your scar won’t be bad, and your hair will cover it up anyway.” She stepped back. “The doctor did a good job with the sutures.”

I put the kettle on, and then we all gathered around Jessica in the living room and drank tea and ate sticky buns I’d made the evening before.

After a while, Leisel yawned. Finding out that she’d worked the night before, we sent her to bed.

Jessica soon fell asleep too, and as I washed our dishes, Aenti Suz came in to dry them. “Want me to tell you the rest of Annie’s story?”

“Jah,” I answered. “But pull up a chair. There are so few of these dishes, I’ll have them done in no time.”

I reminded her where we’d left off. Annie was returning to Peach Bottom with Woody while Cecil went on to join his regiment in West Virginia.