by Leslie Gould
My sisters and Aenti all suspected I cared for Nick more than what I’d let on, but I hadn’t felt nervous about them meeting him. However, I felt incredibly nervous about him meeting Mamm, so I’d avoided that. And I’d also felt nervous about meeting his parents. What if I wasn’t who they wanted for their son? His sisters were fourteen and sixteen, at the time. Perhaps I wasn’t who they’d expected for Nick either.
The day I agreed to go meet his parents, Nick arrived at Mamm’s house to pick me up. I hurried down the steps before he reached the porch, but then Aenti Suz called out my name.
She came around the side of the house, and when she reached us, she clasped his hand and said, “I’m so happy to see you again.”
We chatted for a few minutes and then continued on our way. As we reached the pickup, the curtain in the front window fluttered. Mamm stood there, watching us. I was both terrified she would come out—and a little hurt she hadn’t. She could have said hello, as Aenti Suz did, but of course that wasn’t her style.
Fifteen minutes later, Nick had pulled into the driveway of a two-story house that was probably close to one hundred years old and sat on a few acres of land. An old minivan was parked in front of a shed. There was a garden with corn and sunflowers to the left of the house. A bench sat on the porch under the front window, and a wreath of silk pansies and greenery hung next to the front door.
Nick paused for a moment, staring at the house, and then said, “My parents purchased this place about six years ago. Until then we lived in apartments. They saved like crazy for a down payment on a home of their own.” He turned toward me. “I’m really proud of them,” he said. “But I don’t ever want to be as financially strapped as they were.”
By the time we’d climbed out of Nick’s pickup, a middle-aged couple had stepped out onto the porch, followed by two girls. All shared Nick’s dark hair and eyes. His mother was thin like Nick. His sisters were too and dressed in shorts and tank tops.
“Leisel,” his mother called out. “Welcome.”
They met us at the bottom of the steps, and Nick quickly introduced me. His parents were Barbara and Doug, his sisters Stephanie and Kaylee. All smiled and greeted me warmly. His father gave me a hug after he shook my hand. Normally I would have balked at the affection, but it seemed natural here.
“We’re barbecuing out back,” his mother said. “Would you like to join us?”
“Sure,” I said. I’d left Mamm a note and said I wasn’t sure what time I’d be back. I doubted she had much planned for supper.
I followed the family through the house. It had hardwood floors, and built-in bookcases flanked the fireplace in the living room. The dining room table was covered with books, and the kitchen counter had plates, hamburger buns, chips, and a bowl of grapes on it.
I could smell the burgers on the grill through the open door. In the backyard a large area was paved with slate and bordered by trees and bushes. Containers of pink geraniums were scattered all around, and there was a gazebo in the middle with a picnic table under it. Along the fence, lawn furniture was arranged in the shade under a weeping cherry tree. His parents had turned their home that they had waited so long for into their own little paradise.
“How about a glass of lemonade?” Barbara asked.
“That sounds great.”
Barbara poured drinks for all of us while Doug and Nick headed to the barbecue. Barbara, the girls, and I sat in the shade. The girls told me about their school and their baby-sitting jobs for the summer. When the burgers were done, I stood to help, but Barbara told me to sit. “They’ll take care of everything.”
Sure enough, within a few minutes Doug and Nick had moved all of the food to the picnic table.
“Come and get it.” Doug gestured toward the gazebo.
Once we were all sitting, he led us in a prayer. Then, as we ate, he asked me about my family’s farm, and Barbara asked how often I was able to visit home. Then Kaylee asked if my family was sad I didn’t join the church.
Stephanie kicked her under the table.
I smiled. “It’s okay.” I explained that some in my family were sad, but because I’d never joined the church, I hadn’t been shunned. They asked me more questions about growing up Amish, and I answered them, mostly giving short answers because I hated being the center of attention.
At a lull in the conversation, I asked a few questions of my own, trying to shift the attention off me. Nick’s father worked in maintenance at Lancaster General, and his mother worked as a teacher’s aide. Each spoke some about their work, which I enjoyed hearing. Because of Nick’s character, I’d suspected that his parents were good people—and I was right. But they were also easy to be around.
After we’d finished eating, everyone helped with cleanup. By that time it was six thirty, and Barbara said she needed to drive the girls to church for a youth group meeting. We told them good-bye, and then Nick and I left too.
With each visit, I opened up more and more and came to love the whole family. I valued having his parents’ influence in my life, even though I was sure they were unaware of how closely I observed them.
As I glanced at the turnoff in my rearview mirror, my heart constricted and left me with a queasiness in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t imagine not having a relationship with Nick—or his family. If everything hadn’t been so chaotic with Marie, I would have enjoyed stopping by to see them.
As I neared the Lancaster city limits, my thoughts soon landed on my state board results, but I tried to put it out of my mind. There was a chance that Marie would be discharged, and I wanted to be there to help her and Gordon if that happened. I wanted to be completely focused on her—not whether I passed or not.
When I arrived at the hospital, Marie hadn’t heard from the doctor yet, and the nurse hadn’t received an order for her discharge. Gordon had gone home to shower.
Just as Gordon returned, Dr. Turner entered the room. He greeted each of us individually, and then turned toward Marie. “We’d like to discharge you today. What support do you have at home, both for your son and for yourself?”
Marie explained she’d be going back to our family farm—I decided there was no reason to tell her about Bishop Jacobs’s visit—and that in addition to me, her aunt and her older sister would also be available to help.
“Great,” Dr. Turner said. “In that case, if Leisel can take responsibility for changing the dressing on your wound, then we can discharge you today.” He said he needed to see her next week for a follow-up appointment. Then he turned toward me. “How did your state boards turn out?”
“Fine,” I said, not wanting to admit how worried I was. “I should know by the end of the day.”
“Great. You can let me know next week.”
I nodded and tried to smile. What if I didn’t pass? What would I tell him? The queasiness in the pit of my stomach returned.
Dr. Turner smiled at me as he made a point of telling me good-bye, sending a shiver up my spine. Why couldn’t Nick be Mennonite? If he was, he wouldn’t be contemplating joining the Air Force. We wouldn’t be at this impasse.
After he left, Marie raised her bed and turned to me. “Will you help me get dressed so we can get out of here?”
I nodded toward her IV. “It’s not that easy,” I said. “You’ll have to wait for your nurse to take that out. Then you’ll have papers to sign and orders to take home with you. The nurse may have special instructions about the wound—”
Marie groaned and lowered the bed. “I hope Caden still remembers me by the time I get back to him.”
“He will.” I smiled. “And he’ll be so glad to see you.”
It wasn’t until early afternoon that Marie was discharged. I took the prescriptions and said I’d fill them while Gordon drove Marie out to the farm. She was tired and there was no reason for her to wait at the pharmacy.
She’d asked me to go by their apartment too and gather more of her clothes. She needed her robe and loose nightgowns that wouldn’t rub aga
inst her incision.
I went to the pharmacy in the hospital first. After I’d submitted the prescriptions, I sat down and then decided to check for the score on my boards again. I considered texting Nick to ask him if he would check for me. But then I decided bad news would be harder to take from him than straight from the source.
I entered my ID and password, my heart racing. I stared at the screen as my results popped up.
Failed.
I stood and walked to the window, logging out of my account as I did. I fought the panic rising inside me, mentally acknowledging that it was just adrenaline doing its thing. I didn’t need to give into it. I attempted to take a deep breath, but it caught in my diaphragm.
Just then the technician called out Marie’s name. Somehow I managed to navigate through the waiting room to the counter.
I’d intended to pay for her meds—and I would, for the moment—but perhaps I’d have her reimburse me after all. I’d have student loans to start paying in six months. What if I didn’t have my license by then? How could I manage the bills I had now, plus more?
I pulled out my debit card and paid, then listened to the pharmacist go over the instructions and warnings. The pain meds were important for her comfort but should only be taken as needed. I nodded. She needed the antibiotics to prevent infection. If she experienced an upset stomach when she took them, yogurt could help. I made a mental note to pick some up on the way home.
I shook my head as the pharmacist asked if I had any questions. I stuffed the bag in my purse and headed toward my car.
How could I have failed?
My phone dinged. It was Nick, checking in. I ignored it.
Numb, I drove to Marie and Gordon’s apartment. I hadn’t felt such loss since Dat died. No, that wasn’t true. I’d felt it with Marie’s diagnosis. I’d just been fighting that feeling, trying to ignore it. But now with all my plans destroyed by not passing my state boards, I felt despair.
Mr. Weber had died alone without his daughter at his side. I’d missed all the signs of Marie’s cancer. I hadn’t been able to save the man in the diner. Perhaps this was God’s way of telling me I wasn’t meant to be a nurse. Maybe I’d been wrong all along.
I found a place to park about a block away from Marie and Gordon’s apartment. Gray clouds hung heavy overhead, threatening rain. I stepped into a store on my way and purchased yogurt and disposable diapers. Then I continued on to the apartment building, walked into the lobby, and then climbed the flights of stairs, thinking of Marie lugging Caden and bags of groceries up the steps.
The apartment had one bedroom, with an alcove for Caden’s crib. It was all they could afford, but Marie had made it into a cozy home. A shadow quilt she’d made covered the secondhand loveseat. The oak table was small but sturdy. There were several photos on display—one from their wedding day, a few of Caden. A bookshelf lined one wall of the living room. There was no TV, but there was a computer on a desk in the corner.
I headed to the bedroom. Another quilt, a log cabin design, covered the bed, and a smaller one was draped over the side of the crib.
I gathered the items Marie wanted and then more clothes for Caden. I found a cloth grocery bag in the kitchen and placed the items inside. As I finished, my phone dinged again.
Of course it was Nick. Can you call me?
I sank down on the edge of the bed, as if in prayer, debating what to do. I’d have to tell him sooner or later. Better now than when I was back on the farm.
He picked up after the first ring. As he said hello, I burst into tears.
“Leisel,” he cooed. “It will be all right. Lots of people have to retake the test.”
I sobbed, unable to say anything.
“Where are you?” he asked.
For being a girl who didn’t cry, I was doing a lot of it lately. I managed to answer him, and then said, “I’ll head back to the farm in just a minute.”
Nick told me he could help me study when he was home. “And I can take off more time if needed.”
I took a deep breath. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, after I have a chance to decide what I should do.”
“What do you mean?” he stuttered.
“Maybe I’m not meant to be a nurse.”
“Of course you are,” he said. “You have a God-given gift. You were made for this.”
“What if I wasn’t following God’s leading after all? What if I made a terrible mistake by leaving the Amish?”
“What are you talking about?” Nick’s voice fell lower than normal. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I took a raggedy breath. “I’m not sure,” I answered. “I need some time. To sort this through.”
“Look,” he said. “You took the test after your sister was diagnosed with cancer, after her surgery. You were stressed and sleep-deprived. You didn’t have time to review. Don’t beat yourself up about it. And don’t second-guess your future because of it. It’s simply a six-week delay. You’ll get through this. In a couple of years, this will be a distant memory.”
I appreciated his pep talk, but I wasn’t convinced. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said. After we said our good-byes, I leaned back on the bed and cried more, the tears sliding down the sides of my face.
If Marie didn’t have cancer and I’d never come home, would I have passed the test? But Marie did have cancer, and now I was back in Lancaster County. And Nick wanted to join the Air Force. I felt as if I were losing everything.
Perhaps I was never meant to be a nurse, never meant to leave the Amish, never meant to be on my own. Maybe Mamm was right. Maybe God was punishing me for leaving in the first place, then for becoming so prideful that I thought I could succeed in the Englisch world. I’d been courageous my entire life. Until now.
Each tear that slipped down my cheek took more of my confidence with it. Nick and Pittsburgh and all the dreams we’d had together felt so very far away.
12
The next morning, after Gordon left for work, was the first chance I had to ask Aenti Suz what Bishop Jacobs had said when he’d stopped by in his buggy.
“Oh, that.” She stood at the sink, filling the kettle with water. “I’d nearly forgotten.”
“So, what did he decide?” I scooped up another spoonful of cereal with chunks of banana for Caden, who squealed happily in his high chair.
“Well, he hasn’t come to a final decision yet.”
“What do you mean?”
Most people’s faces turned red when they were upset. Aenti Suz’s turned white. “Oh, he didn’t realize he needed more information, which I gave him. I told him to think it through again.”
Only Aenti Suz could get away with that sort of thing. I gave her a puzzled look.
“What’s he going to do?” Aenti Suz said. “He can’t kick me out of my house—I own it.”
“He can discipline you. Force you to go before the congregation. Shun you. Kick you out of the church.”
She shrugged. “I’m not worried about it.”
I continued feeding Caden, not sure what more to say. Aenti Suz was a force to be reckoned with. I’d felt confidence like hers just a few weeks ago. Not anymore. No one had asked me yesterday whether I’d passed my state boards, and I wasn’t about to bring it up.
After breakfast, Aenti Suz went to run errands. Caden played on the floor while I tended to Marie’s wound.
“Oh,” my sister said. “I forgot to ask about your test.”
I cringed.
“What did you find out?” she asked.
I struggled for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I’ll have to take it again.”
“You didn’t pass?” Ach, Marie could still be as direct as ever.
“That’s right.” My wounded pride welled up inside of me, and it felt a lot like grief.
“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed my hand as I pulled her loose nightgown over her dressing. “You would have passed if it hadn’t been for me. Your studying and routine were totally disrupted. I’m so
sorry.”
“I’m not,” I responded. “Even if I knew I wouldn’t pass my test, I still would have come home to care for you. And there is no way to know if I would have passed if I’d stayed in Pittsburgh, not for sure.”
“When will you retake it?”
“I have to wait six weeks.”
“Then we’ll need to make sure you have time to study. Perhaps Jessica can help more.”
“Let’s give it a couple of days,” I answered. I didn’t want her to know I was struggling with what to do next. “I haven’t told Jessica and Aenti Suz yet, but I will.”
“All right.” Marie promised she wouldn’t share my news before I was ready to. Then she said, “You’re already such a good nurse, regardless of what a test says. You’re empathetic but not enabling, which has really preserved my dignity.”
I appreciated her affirmation, but I still felt defeated.
While Caden napped, I hauled the dirty laundry down to Mamm’s basement and put the diapers to soak in a large bucket of bleach water, thankful I’d bought the box of disposables. I feared I’d never catch up on the laundry if I hadn’t.
I filled the wringer washing machine and started a load of towels. After they’d washed and rinsed, I fed them through the wringer and hung them on the line. Then I started on the diapers. By the time I got them out to the line, Aenti Suz had returned from her errands and helped me pin them.
As we worked, she told me she’d stopped by the office of a man who ran a website that advertised Amish lodging opportunities for tourists.
“He thinks we’d do really well renting out the Dawdi Haus. He believes he could book it through most of the summer, and on weekends during the spring and fall too.” Aenti Suz grabbed another diaper. “Has Jessica spoken to Arden about it yet?”
“Probably.” I rubbed my chin with the back of my hand. “But she hasn’t said anything. She’s coming back tomorrow. You can ask her then.”
Aenti Suz finished pinning one diaper and grabbed another. “Did you find out about your test?”
I cringed again.
She rested both of her hands on the line. “Not good?”