CHAPTER 3
It had become routine for Jonathan to drive Emma home. Usually Amos came with them. She rather enjoyed talking with Amos’s brother. As they approached the Yoder home, the sun came out for a moment, causing her to blink. But the moment it appeared, it went away. As usual, they discussed the fund-raiser. And they still disagreed. Again, she tried to convince him why to have it.
Those reasons by far outnumbered any reasons not to. She knew the cost of the surgery was so high, he would never be able to pay for it himself, even with the help of their close community.
After a tense, lengthy silence, she glanced at Jonathan’s expression from her peripheral vision. “You know what your problem is?”
He lifted a challenging brow.
“That you’ve always been healthy. Neither one of us has walked in little Amos’s shoes.” She pushed out a deep sigh. “So we could never completely understand what it’s like to stay inside all day when your friends play outdoors. Wear a sweater in the middle of summer.”
Jonathan held up a defensive hand. “I think I do.”
She raised her chin a notch. “How could you?”
“When I was Amos’s age, I suffered from chronic asthma.” Jonathan’s tone was edged with regret. “Thank goodness, I grew out of it. When I was young, I would wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air.”
He paused a moment and looked into the distance. “In fact, I can’t count the number of times I awakened my poor parents.”
“Could they help you?”
“Not really. But they tried. They did their best. To my mom, rubbing eucalyptus oil on my chest was the cure-all. It smelled good.”
He chuckled. She joined in the laughter.
“The best medicine I had was a puffer.”
Emma offered an eager nod. “I know what that is.”
“You do?”
“Jah. When I visited my cousin at the hospital after her delivery, I saw a woman use one in the waiting area.”
“They certainly come in handy for asthma patients. But what’s bad about asthmatics, besides difficulty breathing, is that if they don’t get enough rest, they catch things easier.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Bugs.”
She eyed him.
“They get sick with the snap of two fingers. Trust me, Emma, I was the kid who always had to bundle up. We’re talking layers of clothes under my coat. I can’t count the number of times I couldn’t go out and play with my friends because if damp or cold air got into my lungs . . .” He shrugged. “Forget it. My mom rubbed even more eucalyptus oil onto my chest as I lay in bed.” He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “And with me, it took forever to get well.”
Emma offered an understanding nod. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. It’s hard to believe that a big, strong guy like you was ever sick.”
His shoulders straightened. The appreciative expression on his face told her that he enjoyed the compliment.
“Thanks for sharing that with me.”
“You’re easy to talk to, Emma. I wish I could open up to Amos and have a heart-to-heart. There are things he needs to know.”
She wondered what he wanted to tell his brother that was so hard to convey. She tried to picture Jonathan in bed. It was difficult to envision. But now that she knew this about him, her opinion of him changed. His admission tugged at her emotions, and despite herself, she liked him even more.
* * *
The auction was two days away. At her dining room table, Emma held the lists of donations in front of her and carefully checked off each name that had been confirmed. She pictured how the tables would be laid out; she had assembled male volunteers in the community to set them up in the cookie tent according to plan.
As she considered the number of events that would be raising money for Amos’s surgery, she strummed the bottom of her black ink pen against the lined paper to a nervous beat. She thought of all of the prayers and work that had gone into this. The dreams. Hers, in particular. The day that little Amos’s doctor would fix his heart so he could play outside with other kids.
Despite the joy that last realization brought, her pulse pumped to an uneasy pace. Why? The goal I’ve worked so hard for is finally going to happen. Why am I not ecstatic?
The sound of Mamma pulling up a chair next to her prompted her to look up. The unpleasant noise of the chair legs gliding across the polished hardwood floor made Emma’s brows draw together in a frown. Unable to concentrate, Emma laid her pen on the lists in front of her, crossed her hands over her lap, and looked at Mamma.
“Honey, if you don’t smile, those frown lines will make a permanent home around your lips. You’re too tense.”
The soft faux warning made the corners of Emma’s mouth lift into a half smile. As she locked gazes with her role model, Emma rolled her shoulders to release tension and blew out a deep breath. As she leaned forward, she planted her feet firmly on the floor to scoot closer to her mother.
“You want to talk about it?”
Emma noted the weariness in her own voice when she finally responded. “Oh, Mamma. If only things weren’t so complicated.”
“I thought you’d be excited. You’ve worked harder than anyone to make the auction a reality. Think of all you’ve accomplished! You’ve got volunteers. The media is involved. People are donating big items for little Amos. There’s even a farmer auctioning off an acre of farmland for the charity. The momentum couldn’t be stronger!”
“I know, Mamma. And it will be my dream-come-true when we add up the money and announce that we’ve got enough for the special surgery.” Emma clutched her hands into fists and closed her eyes as she said those words. “I’m so excited about the auction, but . . .” Emma swallowed and lowered her gaze to the tabletop.
Mamma leaned forward in silence. When she spoke, her voice was so hushed, it was barely more than a whisper. It was edged with both concern and doubt. “What is it, Emma?”
“Mamma, I only wish we had Jonathan on board.”
The woman Emma respected most in the world laid a reassuring hand on Emma’s wrist. “Don’t you worry about Jonathan. I’m sure that once this is all said and done, he’ll be grateful for everything.”
“I don’t like going against his wishes. Now that we’re so close to having the funds, I feel guilty for being so determined to do the last thing Jonathan wants.”
Mamma cleared her throat. Her touch on Emma became a little firmer. “Honey, do you believe he could have come up with the money on his own?”
Emma smiled a little. “Of course not. Even with our own community helping out, I don’t think the surgery could have been paid for.”
“Then don’t second guess what you did, honey.” Mamma adjusted in her seat and crossed her legs. When she spoke, the tone of her voice turned firmer. “Emma, you and I both know what self-respect means to Jonathan.”
The remark made Emma giggle.
Her mom smiled relief. “That’s what I like to see! My girl’s smile.”
The tenseness in Emma’s neck began to go away.
“But back to the older Troyer boy. Emma, I’m sure you can understand that the combination of stubbornness and such strong self-respect makes for a difficult man. Mix those traits with all of the talk and publicity surrounding the fund-raiser for his brother’s heart surgery, and I imagine Jonathan’s having a pretty rough go at it. I know of men like that.”
Before Emma could get a word in, Mamma lifted an amused brow. “My own daddy’s one of them. So you can’t just look at a man and understand his position without taking in the whole picture of what he’s going through. It’s not a cut-and-dried situation, unfortunately.”
Emma nodded agreement. “I’m starting to get why he’s so hard to work with.”
“I’m sure that after the money’s raised, he’ll be grateful for all you’ve done. What everyone has contributed.” Emma considered her mother’s optimistic philosophy and offered a half grin. How she hoped Mamma was right.
She didn’t like going against Jonathan, that was for sure. At the same time, she loved Amos with all of her heart and yearned for him to be healthy like other kids his age. Every time the little boy wanted to play outside and she had to say no, her heart ached. If God granted her a wish for anything in the world, her request would be for getting her little friend well. No question.