Jake rode with Eva in the ambulance and held her hand the entire time as her lips grew even larger and more tiny pink spots appeared on her cheeks. The EMS person had given her a shot that he said would help, but Jake was wondering when it was going to start working, and he tried to shake the image of her resembling a fish.
He’d called Eva’s mother during the commute to the hospital but had to leave a message on the answering machine in the barn. He prayed all the way there that her parents would get the message. They must have, and acted with superhuman powers, because they were at the hospital even before the ambulance, having hired a driver who had clearly challenged the speed limits to get them there.
Jake had also left a message for Lizzie to find out what was in the so-called love potion. Lizzie had returned his call within a few minutes, then joined him in the hospital waiting room about an hour after he arrived, along with her sister.
“I told you two drops.” Lizzie had apparently been so distraught by the message that she’d left the house without her teeth.
“I don’t think it matters how many drops. The doctor believes Eva is allergic to dandelion.” Jake leaned his head back against the wall and sighed.
Lizzie covered her face with her hands. “Then it’s mei fault.”
Esther wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulder from where she was sitting on the other side of her. “It’s no one’s fault. And the doctor said Eva is going to be just fine.”
Lizzie lifted a wadded-up tissue to her nose and blew. “She is for sure going to be okay, ya?”
From either side of Lizzie, Jake and Esther both nodded.
They were quiet for a few minutes.
Lizzie cleared her throat. “Did it work?”
Jake slowly turned his head to face her. “We didn’t get that far.”
“Hmm.” Lizzie strummed her fingers atop her knees, then crossed her legs, uncrossed them, then leaned her head back with a thud against the wall. “Ow.”
They all startled when a doctor emerged from behind the closed door in the emergency room, followed by Eva’s parents.
“She’s going to be just fine,” the young doctor said. “The shot the EMS personnel gave her in the ambulance was already helping, and we’ve given her another shot. Her swelling should go down within seventy-two hours. Probably sooner than that.”
Eva’s parents had stepped to the side and were talking quietly to each other. The doctor glanced at Jake, then Lizzie and Esther. “Any questions?”
“When can she go home?” Jake cut his eyes in the direction of Mary and Lloyd Graber, assuming they would be taking Eva home.
“Within an hour. They’re just finishing up some discharge papers.” The doctor smiled. “No worries. Really. She is going to be fine. But she’ll want to stay away from dandelion.”
They all nodded, and after the doctor was gone, Eva’s mother approached them. “We will be taking Eva home with us.” She glanced at her husband before she looked back at them. “Eva doesn’t want anyone to see her right now and asked if you would all leave before she is released. And Jake, she doesn’t want to go back to work until the swelling goes down, which, as you heard, shouldn’t be more than a few days.”
Jake stood up. “Ya, yes, ma’am, whatever time she needs, of course.”
Esther and Lizzie slowly got to their feet, and the three of them left, already having decided to share a ride home.
Thankfully, Lizzie was quiet on the ride until they pulled up at The Peony Inn. Before she got out of the seven-passenger van, she turned to Jake. “I do know a little remedy that might speed things up. Once when I got stung by a bee, mei mamm—”
“No!” Jake and Esther said in unison.
Lizzie huffed. “Fine, then.”
After Jake got back to the bookstore, which he’d locked after turning the Closed sign to face outward, he sat down on the stool behind the counter, elbows on the wooden top, and rested his chin in his hands. He had been so close to kissing Eva. He was starting to wonder if it would ever happen. He’d told her how he felt, so hopefully when she was better, they could resume where they’d left off.
He had prayed all the way to the hospital, and right now he’d just be grateful to God that she was all right. Giving his head a little shake, he tried to clear the last image of her in his head.
* * *
“I look like a fish.” Eva held the mirror—the one she’d asked for earlier from the nurse—to her face. “A fish with chicken pox.”
Her mother patted her arm. “The doctor said you are lucky that it isn’t itching, and it will all disappear in a few days.” She chuckled. “I know it isn’t funny, mei maedel, but leave it to Lizzie to do something like this.”
Eva couldn’t help but smile, even though it felt like her lips had overtaken her face. “I can’t believe Jake actually slipped it in mei kaffi.”
“Nor can I,” her father bellowed from where he was standing near the window. But Eva saw his mouth curl up on one side. Both of her parents had thought Jake was the perfect match for her.
“It really is rather sweet that Jake was willing to go to such great lengths to get you to fall in love with him. Doesn’t he know that you already are, and have been?” Her mother winked at Eva.
“Ya. I’m almost certain he does. And I think he finally sees me as a mature woman.” She rolled her eyes. “Right now, he sees me as a fish.”
They both smiled. “Life might be changing for you soon,” her mother said.
“I hope so,” she said softly. “I still feel bad about John, Mamm.” She’d told her mother earlier about her conversation with him. “You should have seen the look on his face. But whether or not Jake loved me the way I hoped, it didn’t feel fair to put John in second place, hoping I would love him the way I love Jake.”
A nurse came in with papers for them to sign, and not long afterward they were able to leave. Eva’s father had called the driver, and he was waiting for them at the exit.
Eva reached up and touched her swollen lips, but she was smiling on the inside. It might be a few more days before that kiss actually happened, but Jake was ready to take things to the next level.
After they got home, Eva stood in the living room with her hands on her hips and allowed the inevitable teasing from her brothers.
“Not just a bass, a largemouth bass.” Amos roared as if he’d said the funniest thing in the world.
“That’s enough,” her father said as he waved an arm to motion them outside. “You all have chores to do.”
Eva went upstairs, tired from the day’s events. Her mother had offered to bring her some soup upstairs, along with a straw. While she waited, she closed her eyes, fought the sleep that was coming, and wondered how Yvonne was doing. Yesterday had surely been a hard day for her. Eva opened the drawer of her nightstand and took out some lined sheets of paper and a pen. Maybe hearing what had happened to Eva might cheer up Yvonne, or at the least distract her, as she seemed to prefer sometimes. If she hurried, she could get it in the mail today.
* * *
By Tuesday Yvonne had settled into a routine. It was mandatory to answer the phone if her aunt, bridesmaids, Trevor’s parents, or anyone else called. Otherwise, they showed up at her house to check on her, which was the last thing she needed.
Slouched under her covers and propped up with two pillows, she glanced at the pizza box on the end of her bed alongside an empty container of Blue Bell chocolate ice cream. Prior to Trevor’s death, she’d never eaten in bed, much less left empty containers lying around. But this was her life now. Eat, sleep, repeat. And get the mail every few days.
It was nearing dark, so she slipped into her robe, peeked out the window to make sure none of her neighbors were out, then shuffled to the mailbox and retrieved what was most likely all bills. However, she was surprised to find a letter from Eva that had been mailed Saturday. She was glad she’d chosen to get the mail today.
After she was back in her bedroom living quarters, she glanced at her empty food containers in disgust but crawled back beneath the covers anyway and tore open the envelope.
Dear Yvonne,
I am wondering how you are doing, and I can’t imagine how hard Friday must have been for you. I am keeping you in my prayers several times per day. Please let me know if there is more I can do.
In some ways, it feels inconsiderate to tell you about my life and what’s been going on, but when we last spoke, you said you needed a distraction. So, I’m hoping this distraction might bring a smile to your face. I decided not to go on another date with John Yoder when he asked. It just didn’t feel fight. And it was a good decision since it seems as though Jake is ready for us to be more than friends.
Then Eva went on to detail her ordeal with Jake and at the hospital. And for the first time since Trevor died, Yvonne laughed out loud. She didn’t recognize the sound of her voice.
Yvonne had known some of her friends for decades, yet an Amish woman she’d recently met had made her feel better than anyone else. Those closest to her had been tiptoeing around her, careful not to say the wrong thing. She had needed a distraction, and Eva had provided just that. Her laughter was short lived, but it was a welcomed reprieve, enough for her to at least carry her empty food containers to the trash can. She kept Eva’s letter on the nightstand so she could read it again when life became unbearable.
She climbed back under the comfort of her bedspread and snuggled in. She’d never slept this much in her life, but she couldn’t find a reason to do much else. Each time before she closed her eyes, she prayed that she’d feel some sense of Jesus’s presence in her life. She hated that she didn’t have the faith like the man in the book, and she still had her doubts that his story was true. But she wanted more than anything to believe, to see Trevor again, to know that someday she would.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept when she heard a knock at the door. As she wondered who would be calling so late, it occurred to her that darkness didn’t necessarily mean late. She glanced at the time on her cell phone. It was only seven thirty, so her visitor could be any one of her well-intended friends or family, even though she hadn’t missed any calls.
She sighed as she slipped her arms into her robe and shuffled to the front door. Yawning, she came into the living room but stopped long before she made it to the door when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She began blinking over and over, but the image didn’t go away. “Trevor?” Barely any sound came out of her mouth as she spoke, and her heart was growing in her chest. She could feel it expanding. Any minute she was going to explode with happiness.
“Hello, beautiful.” Trevor smiled, and Yvonne ran into his arms, halfway expecting him to be a ghost, but he picked her up and swirled her around, clinging to her with as much desperation as she felt. Euphoria filled her from her head to her toes.
She smothered him in kisses—but suddenly backed away. He looked exactly like her Trevor, but unless she’d totally lost her mind, he couldn’t be here. He was dressed in white slacks and a yellow polo shirt, and he had never looked handsomer. She breathed in the smell of his familiar scent, gazed into his eyes, and willed herself to stop trembling. Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. “You’re not really here, are you?”
Still smiling, he poked himself in the arm. “It feels like I’m here.”
Yvonne walked to the couch and sat before she fainted. Her head was starting to swirl with confusion, and her heart had started pounding so hard that she no longer feared it might explode but instead worried it would give her a heart attack.
Then she pinched her arm as hard as she could and flinched from the pain.
Trevor sat by her on the couch and touched her hand. “What are you doing?”
“I’m dreaming. I’m trying to wake myself up.” She squeezed her skin even harder.
Trevor half smiled but cringed a little. “That looks like it hurts. And do you really want to wake up?”
She stopped torturing herself and let go of her bruised skin. “So, I am dreaming?”
“You seem to think you are,” he said, grinning.
Yvonne had slipped into a nonreality. If this was a dream, it was unlike anything she’d had before. She glanced around the room.
“What are you looking for?” Trevor crossed one leg over the other and twisted to face her, his expression turning sober.
“I don’t know.” She sighed, but her pulse still hadn’t slowed down. “I guess some sort of proof that I’m not sleeping.” Or Jesus.
“I’d say that big bruise on your arm should be proof enough that you’re not sleeping.” Trevor brushed hair from her face as he gazed into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”
Yvonne had a thought that caused her adrenaline to spike even more. “Am I dead?” She missed Trevor with her heart and soul, but somewhere beyond her grief, she felt like there were still things she had to do, eventually, when she didn’t live beneath the covers in her bedroom.
Trevor laughed, a true guttural chuckle. “No. You’re not dead.” He leaned over and kissed her with every bit of passion she remembered, and whatever this was, she returned the kiss with everything she had.
“I can’t stay.” He eased away from her.
Yvonne blinked back tears. “I didn’t think you could.”
He stood up, reached into his pocket, and plopped a cherry cough drop into his mouth. “Old habits die hard.”
Yvonne caught the pun and felt her eyes growing wild and wide again.
Trevor laughed. “Come here and tell me bye properly.” He held out his arms, and on shaky legs, Yvonne went to him.
But instead of embracing him, she stared into his eyes, which somehow looked brighter, different. His skin was smoother. His scent enhanced. The color of his clothes more vivid. She wanted to ask him if there was a heaven. And, if so, why was he allowed to come here? Was her faith so weak that God had chosen to send Trevor in a dream so that she would become a true believer? Wasn’t that cheating? Wasn’t faith all about the ability to believe in the things you couldn’t see?
So many questions filled her mind that she couldn’t corral them into a sentence that made sense. She finally said, “Will I see you again?”
He leaned closer and kissed her. “I’m counting on it.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and he gently wiped it away with his thumb. “I feel . . . something. It’s confusing,” she said as she searched his eyes. “I’ve been praying that I would see Jesus. I need to believe. I want to believe. And then there’s this book . . . and . . .” She was rambling, she knew.
Trevor gently put a finger to her mouth and smiled. “You don’t have to look hard to find Jesus.” He motioned around the room. “He’s everywhere. In the air you breathe. In every thought you have. He’s like a friend you can just talk to. And He is the way to God.”
Yvonne began to weep, harder than she thought she’d ever cried in her life. “I’m not sobbing like this because I’m sad . . . I just . . . I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Trevor pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the forehead, the familiar smell of the cherry cough drop filling the space around them. “Yes, you do.”
He made the statement with such conviction that Yvonne was finally able to breathe. “It’s the Holy Spirit.”
Trevor eased her away and smiled. “I have to go.”
“I’m guessing I will wake up and know that I dreamed this entire thing.” She lowered her head, only to have him cup her chin and raise her eyes to his.
“I love you, Yvonne.”
She could feel him leaving, but instead of sadness, she felt hope. “I love you too.”
Then he was gone. Vanished into thin air. And Yvonne was left standing in her living room. But she wasn’t alone. And she didn’t think she’d ever be alone again as she walked back to bed and got beneath the covers.
“Thank You,” she whispered.
* * *
When she woke up the next morning, sunlight beamed into her bedroom through the lace sheers layered behind the thick curtains she’d been keeping closed. She didn’t remember opening the drapes, but the feel of the sun on her face was refreshing as she stretched, yawning but feeling more rested than she had in a while.
Then, like a stab in her heart, she bolted upright. “Trevor.” It all came back to her—the dream, in vivid detail. The way Trevor had looked, how he smelled, the way he smiled and told her he loved her. She was tempted to cry because it wasn’t real. It was a dream. But within the same thought, she realized it was also a gift. Her nerves began to settle as she came to the realization she’d been hoping for. She would see Trevor again.
God had gifted her with a special dream. She’d read that the only way to God was through Jesus, and apparently Yvonne must have searched for Jesus in the right place. Or was it like Trevor had said in the dream—that Jesus is everywhere?
She thought about the book and what she should do with it. This morning the author’s story seemed more plausible, but something was niggling at her. Who exactly is the author? She wasn’t sure why that mattered, but it seemed important to find out. Or maybe she just needed a purpose, a reason to get dressed, to go about her life. Her dream should have been enough to motivate her since it had filled her with hope. But she was wise enough to know that the gift, while beautiful in every way, wasn’t a part of her reality.
As she stretched again, she saw the bruise on her left arm. Even in a dream, she’d pinched herself hard enough that it should have woken her up.
Smiling to herself, she slipped into her robe and moseyed into the living room, longing for some coffee. But before she made it to the kitchen, something on the coffee table caught her eye, and butterflies filled her stomach.
She slowly shuffled to the table, leaned down, and picked up the cherry cough drop, still in the wrapper. Closing her eyes, she held it to her chest as the same feeling she’d had during the night washed over her. A feeling of peace. Of hope.
Lifting her eyes above her, she whispered the thought that repeated itself in her mind. “Thank You.”