In the Lapp household, Lizzie and Leora hurried to put the finishing touches on supper. After removing the biscuits from the oven, Leora set the table and poured the iced tea as Lizzie took the Swiss steak, vegetables and mashed potatoes from the stove and set them all on the table. Lizzie looked at Leora and gave her a silent message and they heard the sound of Wayne’s footsteps on the back porch. Don’t say anything about the shop. Keep all our talk about home topics. Leora nodded quietly
“Well, supper’s finally on the table. It’s about time!”
Lizzie resisted the urge to look at the wall clock. She knew supper was on the table before five p.m. They had gotten home from errands not an hour and a half before and started on supper and cleaning just as soon as they walked in. “Ja, Wayne, it is on the table. One of your favorites.”
“Denki. It smells gutt.” After offering a silent prayer, Wayne dug into a large cut of Swiss steak. On his plate, he piled a large serving of mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes and gravy. After eating two large servings, he leaned back in his chair, sighed and drank his tea down in three gargantuan gulps.
Lizzie, eating her own supper, remembered Wayne from their courtship. He had been quiet and intense, but so much more open back then. While he had always been wary of allowing her to work outside the home, he hadn’t been so dogmatic about it. She jumped as she heard Wayne’s voice.
“Lizzie! Where are you? In that shop?”
“Nee, I was remembering our courtship, actually.”
Lizzie’s response threw Wayne. He hadn’t expected that. “Oh? What do you remember?”
“. . . “How much fun we had, how much we laughed. How I came to love you.”
Wayne was surprised. “Oh! Well. . . I remember the same things. You were so shy, I was never sure I’d get two words out of you. I had to work for a giggle.”
Lizzie blushed, looking down. “My brothers had already grown up and gotten married by the time I came along, so I was only used to having my sisters in the house.”
“Ja, I remember. I also remember that, when I came to pick you up on Easter Sunday, your brothers were there. . . and they made it very clear that I would not hurt you. If I had. . .”
“I remember. Would you like some peach cobbler with ice cream?”
“Well, you went all out! Ja, I would.” After receiving his plate of dessert, Wayne thanked Lizzie. “To what do I owe this wunderbaar supper?”
“I remember you said the other day you had a hankering for Swiss steak, the fixings and for peach cobbler. I put it on the menu for today.”
“Well, denki.” Wayne had enjoyed every bite of supper, but now he began to wonder just why Lizzie had chosen these items for their supper. Maybe she’s trying to fool me before she leaves. I can’t let her go back to work anywhere. Ja, she makes quilts and sells them to the store. . . maybe she should stop that as well. My income is more than sufficient. He promised that, after supper and devotions, he would discuss this with her. Indeed, after Leora went out with Vernon, Wayne tracked Lizzie down, finding her in her quilting room. “Wife, do you have just a few minutes?”
Lizzie sighed quietly. She was under a tight deadline for this quilt. Her customer wanted it before the weekend. “Ja, what is it, Wayne?”
“I’ve been thinking. My income as a carpenter is going up quarter by quarter. I’m getting many orders. More than I did even a year ago. I think we can plan easily for you to stay at home. Who knows? Eventually, you may be able to stop sewing quilts for the English and for Annie’s. . . shop.” Wayne had to make himself say that word.
Lizzie looked closely at Wayne. He didn’t appear to be angry. His shoulders were relaxed and she didn’t see his eyes glowering out at her from beneath his bushy brows. “Well, we can talk. But what happens if you have some kind of accident? Carpentry can be dangerous and, if you cut yourself, you could be out of work for some time. If that happens—and I pray sincerely that it won’t—we will need what I can earn.”
“Lizzie, I am careful not to be hurt. My income is more than sufficient for our needs. Our bills are paid and we have nearly paid off the loan for my carpentry equipment. You will be staying home. Keep quilting from home, but at some point, I will require you to stop selling your quilts.” So he wouldn’t hear her objections, Wayne left before she could frame an argument.
Lizzie sat in front of her quilt, mouth open. She was stunned. A part of her was genuinely puzzled as well. She saw fear in her husband’s eyes while he was delivering his ultimatum. Fear? Why would that be? Setting her scissors down, she began to walk around her quilting room, thinking. Then she remembered what he said about his mamm leaving when he was a child. My Gott! He is afraid of me leaving, but why? Well, I just need to let him know that I will never leave him. And that I work because I enjoy contributing to our family. With that decision made, Lizzie went in search of Wayne. She found him relaxing on the back porch swing, drinking a glass of iced tea. “Husband, I am really confused. You want me to promise that I won’t ever work in Annie’s quilt shop again and you even want me to stop selling my quilts in the future.” She sat next to him on the swing, something she would soon regret. “When you were telling me this, I saw a certain expression on your face and I remembered your mamm. That she left when you were just a boy. Wayne, I love you and I would never leave you! All I am doing by selling my quilts is helping to build our. . .”
“WIFE! You heard me and my decisions are final! Now, I am being generous by saying you can continue to make quilts here at home and sell them through the shop. I can just change my mind and say you won’t sell any of your quilts anymore, beginning today. Would you like that?” Hmmm?”
“Nee! I am working on a quilt for a customer and she wants it before this weekend. She’s already paid her deposit and will pay the balance when I deliver the quilt to. . .”
“Then you need to remember that I am the head of this household. Don’t question me! You will not go back to work at Annie’s store. Count yourself fortunate that am not making you stop that quilt for your customer tonight! I am upset. I’ll be in the shop, calming down.” Wayne stalked off, hurrying to his carpentry shop.
Lizzie ran upstairs, feeling afraid of Wayne and his temper. Before she did so, she said one word: “Ban, Wayne.” Slamming the kitchen door, she ran upstairs.
***
In his shop, Wayne stalked around, trying to get control of his temper. Finally, feeling his heartbeat slowing down, he turned to the decorative edging he was working on for an English customer of his own. Unfortunately, he was still angry enough that he wasn’t paying attention to safety precautions—or the narrowing distance between his arm, hand and the router saw. Guiding the length of lumber through the saw, he felt the saw’s edge biting into the skin, muscles, ligaments, tendons and bones of his right hand and forearm. Letting out a blood-curdling howl, he closed his eyes against the overwhelming, searing pain. Hissing his breath in and out from between his clenched teeth, he reached over to the side of the router and switched the router into reverse. This had the effect of pushing his bloody, mangled hand and arm backward. As soon as it was free, he shut the router off with his trembling left hand.
Looking at the torn-up skin, muscle and bone, Wayne swayed, feeling sick. Dark spots danced and shivered in front of his half-closed eyes. Grabbing a shop cloth, he tried to wrap it around his arm to stanch the flow of blood. Stumbling out of the shop, he shambled to the house, calling Lizzie’s name. Once he was on the porch, he fell into the kitchen. “Lizzie! Lizzie, help me! I’m hurt!”
Upstairs, Lizzie heard Wayne’s frightened voice. But she wasn’t sure he was telling the truth and she was afraid of getting hurt if he was trying to fool her. A few minutes later, she went slowly downstairs, looking for Wayne in the living room, hallway and kitchen. “Wayne? Where are you?” Her steps were slow and reluctant.
“Here! In the kitchen. . .” Wayne’s voice wavered and sounded close to tears. By now, he was slumped on the floor, against the back door. He held his left hand around his right hand and arm, which were both soaked in blood.
Lizzie gasped. Rushing to Wayne’s side, she grabbed several clean dish towels, which she wrapped around his arm, heedless of the pain it might cause him. “Husband! What happened? Wait. Tell me on the way to the hospital. I have to go to the phone house and call a driver. I’ll be right back.” Racing outside, she hurried to the phone tree two houses away. She called a driver she had hired before. “Kevin, I hope you have the time to help us! My husband just hurt himself in his carpentry shop. . . ja, this is Lizzie Lapp. You know where we live. Can you take us to the emergency room?”
“Yes! I’ll be there in just about ten minutes. Stop his bleeding! Go!”
“Ja, denki!” Dropping the phone back into its cradle, Lizzie ran back into the house, pulling her skirt close to her knees. Back in the house, she saw that Wayne was more pale than he had been a few minutes ago. His eyes were half-closed and he was slow to respond to her questions. She grabbed his arm and applied pressure, ignoring Wayne’s weak growls of pain. The time seemed to walk by at the speed of a giant tortoise. Finally, hearing the beep of a car horn, she wrapped one arm around Wayne’s back and urged him up. “Hold your arm so I can lock the door and get you down the porch stairs.” She needed her driver to help get Wayne down the steps and into his car.
“Lock your house and come back. He really needs help.” Kevin extended the seat belt, latching it on Wayne’s other side, securing him to the seat. “Sit in the back with your husband.” He hurried to town and the community hospital, driving just over the posted speed limits. At the hospital, he parked and helped Lizzie get him into the emergency room. “I’ll wait here for when you are ready to go home. Mrs. Lapp, I’m a retired EMT. He’s going to be in the hospital for a while. With that blood loss, he probably has some torn tendons and ligaments.”
Kevin was right. After taking several X-rays and ultrasounds, the emergency room doctor decided that Wayne needed to be admitted for surgery to repair his arm. “Mrs. Lapp, what was he doing? It looks like he ran his arm through a saw!”
“That’s just what he did. He wanted to get some more work done for a customer, so after supper, he went back into his shop. I don’t know exactly how he did it. . . can I see him?”