Mattie couldn’t deny how ugly she felt. It had been terribly difficult to have no hair, and even harder to get used to the fuzz that now covered her scalp.
And harder still to accept her looks and go out in public this way. Though she’d never been especially shy, she didn’t like how different she looked, and how those differences caused others to look at her curiously.
It was far easier to stay home, away from strangers’ eyes. Away even from the concerned expressions of the folks in her community.
However, during one of her last visits to the hospital, a social worker talked to her about her feelings.
“You have a choice, Mattie,” she’d said. “You can either hide until you are perfect again, or face the facts that none of us are that way and move on.”
The lady’s matter-of-fact tone had grated on her nerves. “You think it’s that easy?” she’d asked.
“I know it’s not that easy at all,” the counselor replied. “I think facing the world as a cancer survivor might be one of the hardest things a person ever has to do. But I have to tell you that many a man and woman have told me that only staring at four walls inside a house can be difficult, too.” With a shooing motion, she added, “You can’t hide what the drugs did to you, dear. So you might as well embrace the side effects, yes?”
“I don’t know—”
“Give it a try, and then come back next week and talk to me.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. We’re a full-service hospital here. Go, and then report back to me.”
Bolstered by the woman’s encouragement, Mattie decided to ask Corrine to be by her side for her first outing. Corrine was easy to be with and took things in stride.
When Corrine suggested they go to the Kaffi Haus, Mattie readily agreed. Loyal’s Uncle John owned the shop and so it seemed like a safe place to go.
When Mattie got to the corner of Jacob’s Crossing’s square, Corrine was waiting for her. “I’m so glad we’re first going to the donut shop,” Mattie said. “I don’t get enough of a chance to come over here. Nothing sounded good while I was getting treatments. Now I seem to be eating double the amount I used to.”
“You’re still too skinny.” Corrine linked Mattie’s hand through her elbow. “We’ll have to do this all the time. Of course, then I’ll get fat.”
Mattie looked over Corrine’s frame and shook her head. “You’re perfect the way you are, Corrine. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
As their walk continued, Mattie slowly felt the muscles in her shoulders relax, and little by little she lifted her chin a bit.
Things even got easier when they entered John Weaver’s Kaffi Haus and an impromptu cheer rang out.
“Mattie Lapp! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Mattie walked over and hugged Mrs. Miller. “It’s gut to see you as well.”
“And how are you feeling?”
“Better.” She faltered for something more to say but drew a blank. This was becoming a common occurrence. Her brain and body felt muddled—perhaps it was a side effect from the medicines?
“I’m practically starving,” Corrine said, grabbing Mattie’s arm and pulling her forward. “Let’s eat.”
Once they were sitting down, sipping coffee, and enjoying two jelly-filled pastries, Corrine lowered her voice. “So, how are you doing, really?”
Though she still felt like she was deep in the middle of a void, Mattie shrugged. “I’m doing better. I mean, better than I was,” she amended.
“That good, hmm?”
“There’s no need for sarcasm, Corrine. Some days are better than ever. Some days are worse.”
“That’s a shame.”
“It is. But it’s also the truth. I’ll take that.”
“Well, yes. I suppose the truth is all we can ask for.” She paused, making Mattie anxious. The last thing she wanted to do was face another round of questions about her health. She didn’t mind talking about herself, but surely there was more to her than her cancer?
After finishing off her lemon donut, Corrine sighed dramatically, even going so far as to stretch her hands out in front of her. “Mattie Lapp, I’m ashamed of you.”
“Why?”
“We’ve spent all this time together, and not once have you asked me about my garden.”
“How could I have forgotten? What is new?”
“A lot.” Leaning forward, her face became even more animated. “Have I told you about the battle I’ve waged between a pair of rabbits and my strawberries?”
“You have not. What is going on?”
“A pair of rabbits have taken to eating all my berries.”
“That’s to be expected . . .”
“Perhaps. But what is not expected is that they’re eating just one bite of each!”
That startled a laugh from Mattie. “Corrine, surely not.”
She held up her hand. “It’s the truth. I promise it is. And it’s enough to make me cry, I tell you that.”
“So what have you been doing?”
“They come at twilight, so Peter and I have been waiting for them and then scaring them off!”
“Corrine. Set a trap.”
“We tried that, but they got away. They’re wily rabbits, I tell ya.”
Mattie’s eyes started tearing up, she was laughing so hard. “Never say that you and Peter have nothing to do at night.” After a pause, Corrine started laughing, too.
They were giggling so much, they almost missed the next arrivals: Jenna Yoder, followed by Loyal Weaver.
While Loyal merely acknowledged them, then went to go sit at the counter with the other men, Jenna smiled their way, got herself a coffee, and sat down with them.
“Mattie, I didn’t know you were doing so well.”
While Mattie knew Jenna’s words weren’t meant to sound critical, she felt herself tense up. Jenna was a pretty girl—tall, slim, and blessed with rich golden-colored hair and eyes that were a beautiful mix of green and blue. In contrast, Mattie felt more conspicuous than ever. “I’m doing better,” she finally said. “I’m done with chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Actually, I’m down to just a few pills a day.”
“Better than that,” Corrine said supportively. “She’s able to eat out sometimes now.”
“That is a blessing. Why, last time I went riding with Graham, all he said about you was that you were still shvach.”
“I am still weak,” she allowed, then stopped, at a loss of what else to say.
The tense sensation in her stomach was evolving into something more taut and bitter as each second passed. Graham was only her friend. That was true. Never had she ever considered him in a romantic sense.
So why was she suddenly wishing that Jenna and he would not be getting along?
Jenna got to her feet. “I’d truly love to sit with you two some more, but I suppose I should go sit with Loyal now.”
Corrine raised a brow. “He’s at the counter with the men.”
“But I don’t want him to think I’m ignoring him, since I’ve been seeing so much of his brother, you know.” Jenna turned and walked away before either Corrine or Mattie could comment.
But her quick exit didn’t stop them from watching Jenna approach Loyal and the play of confused expressions on his face when he realized she intended to sit with him.
Corrine nudged Mattie with her foot. “Loyal is your neighbor, Mattie. Do you think you should go over there, too, just so he won’t think you’re ignoring him?”
Mattie giggled under her breath. Oh, but she did love Corrine’s feisty sense of humor! She was about to say something else when Loyal scooted off his stool and headed for the door, his Styrofoam cup in one hand and a bag of donuts in the other.
Then, just like they were watching a children’s play, they watched him quickly cross the parking lot, scamper across the road, and stride over to Ella Hostetler. After a brief conversation, the two of them started walking together. Ella talking and Loyal smiling at her.
Just like he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. “Now, isn’t that interesting?” Mattie wondered aloud.
“Almost as interesting as watching Jenna sitting quietly at the counter with a line of men,” Corrine whispered. “I hope she starts chatting with them soon . . . or they’ll think they’re being ignored!”
All at once, Mattie’s terrible knot of nerves dissipated and true, warm, and easy feelings flowed through her.
They lasted all day. Right up to that evening. When she felt a lump under her armpit.