Lindy was at the doorway, looking hesitant to enter.
“Come in,” he said. “Did you hear all that?”
She nodded.
“So. We have to get the pills into Mamm.”
“You could talk to her first. She might agree.”
He blew out his breath. “She might. She just might. Old Mae says it’s going to get worse.”
“She told me the same thing.” Lindy’s voice was gentle. “But we already knew that, didn’t we?”
“Jah. We already knew that.”
Lindy walked over to where he sat and looked down at him. “When is Robert coming back?”
“Do you want Robert back?” He nearly clapped a hand over his mouth. Why in the world did he ask that? It didn’t even make sense. Asking her if she wanted Robert back when he was sitting right there in front of her. But he found himself hoping she’d say yes. Yes, she wanted him back.
She blinked at him as if trying to read his thoughts. Then a look passed over her face—something he couldn’t quite discern. Something that thrilled him and terrified him at the same time. But then it was gone. Erased as if it hadn’t been there at all.
“You are back,” she said softly. “It’s Reuben who’s gone.”
“Jah. It’s Reuben who’s gone,” he agreed, feeling like a fool.
Lindy cleared her throat. “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”
Was she dismissing him? He supposed it was just as well… He stood. “Jah. I’ll go back out there.”
“I’ll fix supper before I leave.”
“You don’t have to.”
She looked offended. “But of course, I do. I want to. It’s part of my job.”
“Not really, Lindy. Feeding me was never part of the bargain.”
She squared her shoulders. “Jah, it was. You simply are forgetting.”
He smiled at her then, and she smiled back. “I won’t argue with you,” he said, his voice now light and teasing.
“You should know better,” she teased back.
He laughed and shook his head, leaving the kitchen and heading back outside.
* * *
Lindy fell into bed that night. She was exhausted. It wasn’t so much her tasks that had worn her out that day—it was too much thinking. And stewing. Berta had barely eaten anything for supper. Lindy had tried sweet-talking her into it and so had Robert. Both of them were unsuccessful. Finally, Berta took a few sips of tea and went to bed.
Lindy hoped Robert would have an easy night, but she feared he wouldn’t. Maybe she should start spending the nights over there, too. She’d felt awful leaving the two of them.
“Go,” Robert had told her. “We’ll be fine.”
Lindy had peered over his shoulder toward the front room. “I just have a feeling,” she said. “Berta isn’t going to have a gut night.”
“It won’t be the first time. Now go home, Lindy. We’ll be fine.”
“But I could stay. I could sleep in the front room with her. That way I could help more. I just don’t like the idea of you—”
“Lindy,” he’d cut her off sternly. “Go home. You’ll be here first thing in the morning. That’s enough.”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “But, Robert…” She shook her head. “But think about it. If this goes the way Old Mae tells us it’s going to, I want to start spending the night. Unless… Unless you don’t want me to.”
He had sighed heavily and shaken his head very slowly. “How can you say that? You’ve been wonderful, Lindy. Haven’t I told you that? Me wanting you…” He’s faltered then. “Me wanting you to stay has nothing to do with it. Nothing.”
“Then why don’t you let me?”
“Because…” He sighed again. “Because you do enough, that’s why.”
She had wiped at her tears and sniffed. “If you’re sure…”
“I am.” He had given her a gentle push then, as if he’d wanted her to leave right away. “Go on. Please.”
“All right,” she said. She peered over his shoulder one last time and then had fled the house, crying. Berta would need her that night; she just knew it. But she could hardly force herself on them, could she? Hadn’t she made her case strongly enough?
She turned to her side and tossed off the quilt. She would bring it up again the next morning. She was going to move in with them—she had to. Robert couldn’t be expected to stay up all night and then work with any measure of efficiency the next day. She would force herself on them if necessary.
There was a gentle rapping on her door.
“Who is it?” she asked, guessing it was Rachel.
She was right. Rachel came into the room. “You in bed already?”
Did she need to answer that? She just groaned softly.
“You sick or something? Hey, do you need me to step in for you tomorrow?”
“Nee,” Lindy answered quickly. “I’m not sick. Just a bit tired. What did you want?”
Rachel perched on the edge of Lindy’s bed. “When’s Robert coming back?”
“Ach, Rachel. We’ve been over this. I don’t know for sure. Ask Reuben.” Lindy nearly gasped out loud. Why had she said that? If Rachel came poking her nose around the Mast place, she would likely figure out it wasn’t Reuben there at all. “I mean… I’ll ask Reuben,” she said. “I’ll have an answer for you tomorrow when I get home.”
“Thank you, Lindy,” Rachel said, smiling down at her in the shadows. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” Lindy said, feeling like a toad.
Chapter Five
“I’m sorry, kid, but that’s the way it is,” Myrtle’s voice sounded like bark being scraped from a tree.
“You said I could have those two days off,” Reuben said into his cell phone.
“So, you leave a day later. Big deal. You want this job, don’t you?”
Reuben stifled the smart retort he wanted to give. “You know I do.”
“Well, then…”
“Fine. I’ll be in tomorrow, but I’m leaving the next day. I can’t wait any longer,” Reuben insisted.
“That’s great. I just have a bit of an emergency tomorrow. Stan never misses, but he can’t help it tomorrow. And what with that loser Danny sick again, I need you.”
“I’ll be there. But I’m serious. I have to leave after tomorrow.” Reuben was surprised at his candor with the woman. He usually shrank back from her cutting tongue. But he felt such a sense of urgency in his gut to get home, he stood up to her without so much as a second thought.
Well, sort of. He should have insisted that he keep his original days off. So, he supposed he hadn’t really stood up to her at all.
Lord, but she was a hard woman. She’d already hung up, without so much as a good-bye. It didn’t really matter anyway; Rueben wasn’t in the mood to say one more word to her. He glanced down at his half-packed backpack. Well, there was no hurry with it now. He checked the time. He had two hours until his shift. Two whole hours, and he wasn’t about to sit around fretting about his mother. What good would that do, anyway?
He stuck his phone back into his pocket and strode across the room. He left his apartment, making sure he locked the door. Funny how in Hollybrook, folks often left all their doors unlocked. Not like here, that was for sure.
He tromped down the steps, annoyed with himself. Why was his mind so stuck on Hollybrook? Lindy’s fault, he supposed. The girl hadn’t left his mind for days, and he didn’t like it. He purposefully changed his thoughts to Ariel, finding her a much more pleasant distraction.
Not that Lindy wasn’t pleasant—she was. Right pleasant, as a matter of fact. But lately, she’d been badgering him to come back home. He wondered if she wasn’t exaggerating his mother’s condition. Probably was. She was tender-hearted and would take on someone’s suffering as her own. He did know that about her.
But, Lord, the guilt he felt. He was sick of it. Between Lindy and Robert, he didn’t have a moment’s peace. Well, it would be
taken care of real soon. In a couple days, he’d go home. Not to stay. No. He wasn’t ready to go back permanent-like. Just a couple days to visit with his mamm. That should make both Robert and Lindy happy. Get them off his back.
His face grew hot. In truth, they hadn’t been nagging him much lately. It was like they’d given up. But the guilt he felt—it remained.
With his travel plans more or less in place, he wondered why he still felt uneasy. He didn’t like the sensation. It was as if ground hogs were digging tunnels through his stomach. He groaned. What a ridiculous image. Still—it explained it quite well.
He chuckled and left his apartment building, heading toward Ariel’s place. They could have almost an hour together before he had to clock in at work.
* * *
Lindy ran Goldie at top speed the following morning. She needed to get to Berta right away—the urgency in her heart wouldn’t let up. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. She snapped the reins, calling out an apology to Goldie as she did so.
She turned into the Mast driveway and saw no sign of any movement. Robert was often out and about when she arrived, but this time, she saw no sign of him. She pulled to a stop in front of the barn and secured the reins. She didn’t even take the time to unhitch Goldie; she could attend to her later.
She took off running toward the house and burst through the side door.
“Robert!” she called, without thinking. “I mean Reuben! Reuben, where are you?”
She raced through the kitchen and the dining area to the front room and stopped short. Robert was bending over Berta, who lay motionless.
“Nee!” Lindy cried, clapping her hand over her mouth.
Robert turned to her, looking so exhausted, she wanted to weep. He shook his head and tiptoed across the room to her. He took her arm and pulled her back into the dining area.
“You were right,” he said, his voice ragged and rough. “It was a horrible night. Horrible.”
His shoulders shook, and she realized he was fighting tears.
“She’s not… She’s not…?” Lindy couldn’t form the words.
“Nee. She’s asleep.”
Lindy nearly collapsed with relief. Robert grabbed her and pulled her to him. They clasped each other, as if holding each other upright. Lindy squeezed her eyes shut. She should have stayed the night before. She should have stayed. And then, with a jolt, she realized they were hugging each other. She sucked in a jagged breath and stood back. He dropped his arms.
His eyes were on her, and the sadness there pierced her heart.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Tell me what happened.”
He shook his head over and over and blinked away tears. “She… She couldn’t even talk,” he managed to say. “She just lay there and stared at me. But she thrashed and thrashed. She cried, Lindy. She cried and moaned all night. I couldn’t get her comfortable. She wouldn’t drink anything, but I could see that her mouth was dry. Her lips were crusty. Ach, Lindy!”
He stood there and sobbed, and Lindy couldn’t stand it. She took him in her arms and held on. He bent his head until it rested on her kapp. She just held him, crying too; the tears slipping down her cheeks.
“Finally,” he said, “finally, about ten minutes ago, she fell asleep. I think she was awake all night.”
He stepped back so he could look her in the face. “I think she was in terrible pain all night. I tried to get a pill down her. I would have given her two, it was so bad. But I couldn’t. She wouldn’t stay still long enough, and I couldn’t have possibly gotten it down her throat. Lindy, it was so bad.”
Lindy bit her lip to keep from crying out loud. “C-Come on,” she said. “Come with me. I’ll make you some coffee and something to eat. Or do you want to go upstairs and lie down?”
“Nee. I’m not leaving her side today. I can’t. Lindy, do you… do you think this is the end?”
Lindy’s throat tightened until she could barely breathe. “I-I don’t know,” she managed to eke out.
“And … and Reuben’s not here.”
“But he’s coming. You said he’s coming. Didn’t you talk to him again? Didn’t he say he was coming tomorrow?”
Robert nodded and wiped his eyes. “Jah. He said tomorrow.” He let out his breath in a whoosh. “Will it be soon enough? Will it?”
Lindy had no idea, but she couldn’t break his heart any further. “I’m sure he’ll come in time.”
“Lindy?”
“Jah?”
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
Their eyes locked, and she nodded slightly. So was she.
Chapter Six
Lindy was washing up the breakfast dishes when Robert called her into the front room. She turned off the tap and went running.
“Jah?” she said, hurrying to his side.
“Mamm’s awake,” he said, looking up at Lindy with tears in his eyes.
“So she is,” Lindy said, feeling such relief that she grabbed onto Robert’s shoulder for support.
Berta blinked. “What’s the fuss?”
“Ach, Mamm. Last night was horrible. You were so uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry about that…” Her voice faded away.
“Sorry?” Robert said. He laughed and put on a joking voice. “As well you should be. Honestly, keeping us both up till all hours of the night. I think you’ve reverted back to a teenager.”
She laughed, an insipid-sounding thing, but a laugh, nevertheless.
Robert leaned close to her. “Mamm, you’re never a fuss. Now, you mind that.”
Her eyes were closed again, but she smiled.
“Do you think you might eat a bite or two?” Lindy asked, stepping forward. “I can make eggs… Or how does oatmeal with honey sound? I’ll put in a big old dollop of honey.”
Berta’s eyes fluttered open again. She gazed at Lindy. “I… I might eat a bite of oatmeal.”
“Gut,” Lindy said and hurried away to prepare it. It didn’t take long for the water to boil. She scooped in some oats and waited impatiently while it cooked. Then she plopped in a generous helping of honey and added a touch of cinnamon. She poured in a tiny bit of fresh milk and grabbed a spoon.
She hurried back to the front room. Robert was sitting beside Berta reading the Farmer’s Almanac to her.
“Ach, you couldn’t find something more interesting?” Lindy teased him. “I can fetch a few books this afternoon.”
Robert stood and Lindy took his place, holding the steaming bowl of oatmeal. “Here, Berta. I’ll cool off a bite and then you can have a taste. How does that sound?”
Berta’s eyes followed her every movement.
Lindy took a spoonful of cereal and held it up for a few moments, until she thought it was sufficiently cooled. “Here you go.”
Berta opened her mouth and Lindy fed her the bite. Berta made a face and appeared to have some trouble swallowing.
“Mamm, shall I sit you up a bit?” Robert asked, reaching forward to help her. He got her up into a half-sitting position, and Berta turned deathly pale for a fleeting moment. Then her usual pasty complexion returned.
“How about one more bite?” Lindy said sweetly. “Just one more.”
Berta nodded and opened her mouth again. Lindy gave her another bite which seemed to go down more easily. Berta raised her thin arm and stretched out her bony fingers. She shook her head.
“No more,” she whispered.
“All right, Berta. You did real well. There’s just one thing I want to know…”
Berta gazed at her.
“Did I get enough honey in there for you?”
Robert laughed. “Jah, Mamm. We don’t want to deprive you, you know.”
Lindy laughed along with him. Berta didn’t join in the laughter, but she did look faintly amused. Lindy figured that laughing just took too much energy for her.
“Robert?” Berta said.
Robert and Lindy exchanged glances.
“It’s Reuben, Mamm. Remember?” Robert looked as if he was tr
ying not to squirm.
“Robert,” Berta said more clearly, “you’re a gut son.”
“Mamm.” Robert went down on his knees beside the bed and took his mother’s hand. “So, you know.”
Berta scowled. “Of course … I know.” She paused and took a shallow breath. “I know my boys.”
“I’m sorry, Mamm. I … I didn’t want you to miss Reuben.”
She nodded and her gaze was latched to Robert’s face. “I know.”
“I didn’t mean to lie to you.”
“It’s … all right…”
“He’s coming, Mamm. Reuben is. For real, this time. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
She nodded and closed her eyes again. “Gut,” she whispered. “I want to sleep now.”
Robert laid her hand back on the bed and stood up. He motioned with his head for Lindy to leave the room with him. Lindy set the bowl of oatmeal on the bedside table and got up to follow him into the kitchen.
“She knew.”
Lindy gave him a soft smile. “Jah, she did. I guess it’s not too surprising.”
Robert shook his head. “It’s ridiculous. I don’t know why I did it in the first place. It was stupid. And I made you lie for me. I’m sorry, Lindy. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Well, I do,” she told him. “You were thinking to do something nice for your mamm. You did it out of kindness, Robert. Kindness.”
He gave her such a look of gratitude that she went speechless for a moment.
“Thank you, Lindy,” he said softly, stepping close to her. “I don’t know how I’d be surviving through this without you.”
A sense of intimacy filled the space between them. He took her hand in his and his eyes had never looked so green and warm and magnetic.
“Thank you,” he said again.
She blinked, barely daring to take a breath. And then, she uttered, “You-you’re welcome, Robert.”
He blew out his breath and dropped her hand. “So, I don’t have to keep up the ruse anymore,” he said.
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