“You didn’t have to come with me to the doctor, you know,” Mattie told Lucy as they rode in the back of Charlie’s van to the Geauga County Medical Center.
“Sure I did. I promised you I’d be with you every step of the way.”
Remembering how Lucy had come by train to help take care of her for a whole month while she’d been receiving chemotherapy treatments, Mattie knew that her friend had more than fulfilled her promise. “Hopefully, this journey will be over one day.”
Lucy paused as she narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“I know you, Mattie, and I know that tone in your voice. I know you almost better than I know myself. What’s happened?”
“I . . . I found another lump,” she reluctantly admitted. “It’s under my arm.”
Lucy’s eyes widened and she breathed in sharply. “When?”
“A few days ago.”
“Is that why you’re going in today? The doctor wanted to see you right away?”
“No, this is simply a checkup.”
“He’s not worried? What did he say? Is this normal?” The questions came out in a rush. Forceful.
So forceful that Mattie had to smile in spite of the million butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “What happened to my shy, timid friend Lucy?”
After a moment’s pause, Lucy grinned, too. “She’s inside of me still. But now I let this bossy part speak sometimes, too. Forgive me, am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Verra much so.” She cleared her throat. “So will you stop the questions now?”
“Nee. Mattie, what did the doktah say?”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
Lucy blinked. “No one?”
“Well, you,” Mattie allowed.
“Are you going to tell the doktah today?”
“I wasn’t going to, but I guess I should.” Looking at Lucy’s determined expression, Mattie said, “After all, I have a feeling if I don’t say anything, you will. Right?”
“Oh, yes.”
Mattie watched Charlie exit the highway and turn right. In the distance, she could already see the medical center looming. And though the men and women who worked there had been kind to her, she still felt a bit of distaste when she eyed the place.
She so did not want to go back to twice-weekly visits. To sitting in a chair hooked up to too many needles.
“I don’t want to go through this again,” she finally whispered. “I don’t think I can survive another round of chemotherapy.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Lucy slipped her hand through hers and squeezed tightly. “But if that’s what is needed, why . . . yes, you can. You can do anything you want, with God’s help.”
“But I don’t want this.”
“Then let me rephrase my words. You can survive just about anything, with God’s help.”
Mattie swallowed hard. Lucy had been through so much, she knew her friend believed that with all her heart.
It wasn’t the same for Mattie. Over the last year, her faith had steadily dissipated, like air out of a balloon. Now there was hardly any faith left.
Though she’d talked to Lucy about it, Lucy was under the impression that Mattie had worked through her issues and was a believer again. But that certainly wasn’t the truth.
Of course, that was another secret she’d been holding on to.
That one, at least, she’d been able to keep to herself.
“What do you know about Dorothy Zook, Mamm?” Loyal asked when they were driving to the Middlefield Wal-Mart, his mother’s all-time favorite place to shop.
“Dorothy?” she asked in surprise. “Not too much. Why?”
“She’s Ella Hostetler’s new landlady,” he said, hoping he sounded more casual and nonchalant than he felt. “They seem to be good friends.”
“And?”
He jangled Beauty’s reins as the light turned and they continued down the road. “And I don’t know too much about Dorothy.”
She paused a second, obviously waiting for a better answer than the one he gave. “Well, truthfully, I don’t know too much about her, either,” she finally murmured. “As you know, Dorothy’s about ten years older than all of you. Because of the age difference, you all never played together . . .”
Privately, Loyal wondered if he or Calvin or Graham would’ve been her playmates even if they had seen each other every day. He rather doubted it.
After another moment’s reflection, his mamm added, “Did you know she’s from a big family? She’s one of eight children.”
That did surprise him. “I’ve only seen her alone. Where is the rest of her family?”
“They moved away when she was fourteen or fifteen. I think they moved to Indiana. Or maybe even Canada?” she pondered, staring out at the trees and flowering bushes they passed. “Someplace far.”
“Why didn’t Dorothy go with them? Surely she was too young to stay by herself.”
“From what I understand, she had plans here and refused to leave.”
“And her parents let her?”
“I suppose so. She stayed with Lydia Schrock.” She darted a glance his way. “Do you remember her? She was kind of a crusty old woman. Dorothy moved to her house and became something of her caretaker.”
What teenage girl would take care of a grumpy elderly lady by choice? “Why on earth would she do that?”
“Well, this is only hearsay . . . but I heard she stayed for a boy.”
“What happened with that?”
“A few months after her family moved and she started working for Mrs. Schrock, the boy broke up with her.”
“Ouch.”
Looking uncomfortable, his mother nodded. “I think there were some mighty bad things said.”
Against his will, Loyal felt sorry for Dorothy. “So, then, what did she do?”
“She stayed here and continued working.”
“Why didn’t she just go to her family?”
“I’m not sure . . .”
Glancing to his right, he smiled. He knew that look on his mother’s face. It was slightly guilt-ridden—the same expression she wore when she ate two desserts or slept in.
She was feeling bad for talking about Dorothy’s history.
But though he knew gossiping was a sin, he felt justified in pushing just a little bit more. After all, he really was concerned about Ella’s friendship with Dorothy.
“Mamm, we’ve gossiped this much, you might as well tell me the whole story.”
“All right. Well, I heard that she did write to them, but that Mrs. Schrock had written to them, too. And while Dorothy said she wanted to leave Jacob’s Crossing and start over, Lydia didn’t paint quite as good a picture. She either said she couldn’t live without Dorothy, or made it sound like Dorothy had been acting foolishly with that boy. No matter what, the family gently told her to stay put, at least for a bit.”
“She never joined her family, did she?”
His mom shook her head with regret. “No, she didn’t. About a year after all this took place, old Lydia died. She left some money for Dorothy. Dorothy used it for the house she’s living in, and then she went to work at the library.”
“It’s a pretty sad story, Mamm. That poor girl was used by a man, used by Lydia, and then abandoned by her family.”
“It is sad. Terribly sad. No one ever speaks of it.”
“If people did, maybe she wouldn’t be so strange,” he muttered, as he entered the Wal-Mart parking lot and veered left toward the buggy area. “I guess she never got back with that boy?”
“She did not. He married, then moved to Sugarcreek or Berlin or somewhere.” As Loyal parked the buggy in the covered area and they exited the buggy, his mom looked at him curiously. “It’s your turn now. How interested in Ella are you?”
“I’m not sure . . .”
“Loyal.”
“All right. I know I’m far more interested in her than I thought I would ever be. I like her, Mamm. She’s got a good spirit,” he added as they walked to the entrance of the supercenter. “But, Mamm, this Dorothy doesn’t seem to have her best interests at heart.”
“Has Ella told you this?”
“Yes. Well, to some extent she has. Ella’s been through a lot. She’s now doing the kinds of things she’s always wanted to do. She’s working and making new friends.”
“Wasn’t the library Dorothy’s doing?”
“Yes, but I’m starting to think that the library job and her house was all so Dorothy could keep track of Ella. That’s wrong, don’t you think?”
Her mouth pursed. “If that’s what happening . . . then, yes, it is disturbing.”
Loyal nodded.
Grasping his arm, his mother leaned closer. “But, Loyal, Son. Don’t forget something.”
He paused. “What?”
“It’s been my experience that people don’t care to have you interfere in their lives without good reason,” she warned. “If you do try to break their friendship, both women will be hurt—and Ella might never forgive you.”
Though his mother’s words caused a chill to run through him, he couldn’t escape the belief that he was the one in the right. His motives were justified. “I’d only be protecting her. For her own good.”
“She will only be appreciative of it if she sees things your way,” she said slowly. “If she doesn’t, you could be causing nothing but pain.”
Loyal stood still while his mother stepped forward and took a shopping cart.
As she started wheeling it into the cool, air-conditioned building, she looked at him again. “And, Loyal Weaver, I think all of us would agree that Dorothy has been through enough pain already.”
It irked him, but Loyal nodded. Once again, his mother was right. It seemed, no matter what, she was always right.