31

Maggie knew something was very different the next morning when she awoke. At first, she wondered if she’d overdone it by picking so many peaches while awkwardly balanced against the ladder. Or was it because she’d thrown herself so vigorously into mowing when she really should have taken time to rest? Whatever the reason, she felt feverish and was having a terrible flare-up of pain.

She moaned as she stiffly sat up in bed. Reaching for her pillows, she placed them under her right arm and horizontally across the bed, leaning on them for support. Eventually, she managed to lift her legs over the side. Then she just sat there and thought, Now what?

For the longest time, she did not stand, afraid she might fall and hurt herself. All the same, she resisted the urge to call out, not wanting to alarm anyone. Besides, no one was up yet—not a sound came from the kitchen or overhead. Instead, she bowed her head and folded her hands to pray. “Lord, please help me get up and dressed for the day. I’m ever so thankful for all the blessings in my life. . . .” She stopped, sighing now. Yes, she was thankful, but she felt dishonest praying that way when here she was practically crippled again.

Ach, to think I’ve been so diligent about taking the expensive pills, staying right on schedule. Why, Miriam had even helped to remind her last night. Maggie thought fondly of her little sister’s caring nature and hoped that she might soon come bounding down the stairs. Otherwise, I might be sitting here all day, Maggie fretted.

Minutes passed, then a quarter of an hour crawled by.

Exasperated in spite of her desire to keep calm, Maggie hoped she hadn’t taken the past days of well-being for granted. I was almost normal, she thought sadly. I hoped and prayed it might last. . . .

Gingerly, she reached for her Bible on the nightstand and opened to the passages she so loved. The verses of encouragement had kept her going before when she’d felt so pain ridden, though never as bad as now. She spotted Aunt Nellie’s gift for her eighteenth birthday—the white hankie edged with pink tatting—and sighed.

Eventually, there were footsteps on the stairs and the clatter of a pan being removed from the bottom drawer, and Maggie knew that either Grace or Rachel was preparing to cook breakfast.

Maggie tried to inch forward to stand on her own, slowly, cautiously putting her weight on her feet. She was almost up when she abruptly dropped back into a sitting position on the bed, jolting herself.

Am I crippled, Lord?

———

Feeling nauseous once again—a regular occurrence now for hours each morning—Rachel realized her heart was racing. And oh, this annoying fatigue! It was as if she hadn’t slept a wink!

Joseph kissed her on the temple as she sat on the edge of the bed and loosened her nightgown around her middle. “You must rest more, love,” he said. “Please do what you need to and take care of yourself.”

She nodded, and Joseph pulled her close. “The girls can handle most everything in the house, if need be. And I’ll help out more, too.” Joseph kissed her square on the lips. “May the Lord God bless our little one.”

“Amen to that,” she replied, her hand on her stomach. “But let’s not tell the children quite yet. Not till it’s obvious, jah?”

Joseph agreed. “Though I expect Maggie and Grace will put two and two together soon enough, if they haven’t already.” He offered to bring a breakfast tray up to her.

But Rachel couldn’t think of eating. “I’ll just move over to your favorite chair and try to get my mind off myself.”

“Isn’t there somethin’ you can take to calm things down?”

“Mint tea and toast have helped,” she said, but just now the thought of anything at all in her mouth made her nearly heave.

“I’ll make some toast, then, and Maggie or Grace can brew some tea.” With that, Joseph left the room and headed downstairs.

“Bless his heart,” Rachel whispered, rocking back and forth and wondering how many more weeks she’d have to put up with this.

———

Maggie was so relieved when Grace came to check on her.

“What’s a-matter?” Grace’s eyes were solemn as she quickly moved across the room to feel Maggie’s forehead. Then, shaking her head, she said, “You have a fever again.”

“And the pain’s back, too. I doubt I can walk to the kitchen.”

Grace seemed to hesitate, but only a few seconds, and she didn’t raise any alarming questions. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll bring your food in on a tray. Whatever ya need, I’ll help ya, sister.”

Maggie touched her long hair, feeling the snarls. “At some point, someone might help me brush my hair,” she said. “I must’ve slept awful fitfully.”

Again, Grace assured her that she’d assist in whatever way necessary. “I can help you dress and brush your hair after breakfast,” she promised. “Miriam will want to help, too.”

“Oh,” Maggie groaned. “I hate for the family to have to hear ’bout this.”

Grace gave her a compassionate look. “Well, we love you, sister. We want to share your burdens.”

“Take your time to make breakfast for everyone else first, though, ya hear? I’ll be fine here.” Then Maggie remembered that Rachel hadn’t been feeling well in the mornings lately. “Best be lookin’ after Rachel, too, in case she needs something to eat.”

“Dat’s already been down to get her some toast, and I’ve got some peppermint tea brewin’. That seems to be the drink she prefers here lately.”

Maggie exchanged a knowing glance with Grace. “Are ya thinkin’ what I am?” Maggie whispered, offering a smile.

“Jah. I’ve suspected something for a week or so.” Grace gave her a little smile, then wiggled her fingers and said she’d be back in a little while with a nice, hot breakfast.

“Bless your heart,” Maggie said.

When the mail arrived later, Miriam came running into Maggie’s room, excited to present to her a letter from Leola. “I looked at the return address—I think it’s from cousins Nancy and Linda.”

“How nice . . . they remembered to write,” Maggie said, using the letter opener. She’d been resting in her room since the noon meal, which she’d managed to eat with the rest of the family in the kitchen, thanks to Dat and Leroy, who carried her out in a seat they made with their hands and arms.

The pain was so bad, moving at all made her feel nauseous. Worse than I’ve ever felt, she thought.

She sat propped up in bed to begin to read the letter from her cousins, recalling how much fun it had been to visit with them on her eighteenth birthday at Dawdi Reuben’s. Seems like ages ago now.

As she finished the letter, Maggie heard meowing; Aunt Nellie stood in the doorway, holding Siggy.

“We came to bring cheer,” Nellie said, smiling as she tiptoed into Maggie’s bedroom and sat on the chair. “Gracie said you had a setback.”

“I’m really not sure what’s goin’ on.” Maggie was so glad to see her. “I wish Siggy could snuggle with me on the bed.”

“I’ll just sit with him there, so you can pet him.” Nellie moved over to the edge of the bed. “Pets tend to soothe.”

Maggie had to smile and reached to touch Siggy’s neck, feeling the vibrations of his purrs. “He’s a lesson in contentment, jah?”

Nellie nodded and watched Maggie stroke the cat.

“I’m tryin’ to be brave through this,” Maggie confided.

“You don’t have to, an’ you don’t have to be strong, either,” Nellie said, then quoted Second Corinthians, chapter twelve, verse nine, a verse Glenn also had once shared.

“That promise sure helps on a day like today,” Maggie said as she watched Siggy’s eyes slowly close. She mentioned that she’d taken her morning pill in the hope it might help, but it hadn’t at all. “Never wanted to put my faith in them, ya know. But I’m afraid I did.”

“I daresay all of us were hopin’ they might be what ya needed.” Nellie reached over and touched Maggie’s long hair. “Did ya want your hair put up?”

“Grace offered, but I feel more comfortable havin’ it down loose.”

“Well, you do what ya have to,” Nellie said, picking up Siggy and heading to the doorway. “I’ll keep prayin’ for you. Right now, though, I’m gonna check in on Rachel, too. She’s been havin’ quite a bout.”

Maggie nodded, not letting on that she felt sure she knew why. That was Rachel’s news to share. “Denki for comin’ over, Aendi.”

“I love ya, Maggie-bird. And so does the Lord.” Nellie blew her a kiss and left.

Maggie watched her go, touched by Nellie’s sweet spirit and her promise to pray. And reached for her comfort quilt and drew it near.