A Faithful Gathering

by Leslie Gould

  I nodded.

  “I’m so sorry. When can you take it again?”

  “Six weeks.” If I take it again at all, I thought to myself.

  She smiled at me. “You’ll pass then.”

  “Thank you.” I was touched, for a moment, by her confidence. My phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jeans. It was Nick.

  “Go ahead,” Aenti Suz said. “I’ll finish up here.”

  I headed toward the fence as I answered it.

  After we said our hellos, he asked how I was feeling and what my plan was as far as studying. “Do you plan to take a class? Or use a specific program?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to think it through yet.” It wasn’t like me. I always had a plan, no matter the situation.

  “How can I help?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” I felt annoyed with him, which didn’t happen very often. Which really hadn’t happened at all except for his Air Force idea. And now.

  “Are you still thinking you made a mistake to leave?” Did I sense a hint of fear in his voice? When I didn’t answer right away, he said, “Leisel . . .”

  “I really haven’t had a chance to think about any of this.” Except for in the middle of the night when I’d been wide awake, tormented by what had happened.

  “My offer stands to help you study.”

  I bristled.

  I could hear him exhale over the phone. “What do you think?”

  “I’ll get back to you.”

  Instead of pressing me more, he asked how Marie was doing, and I gave him an update.

  Then he asked about Gordon and Caden. Then about Aenti Suz. And Mamm. Soon my mind was off the test and back on my family. By the time we said good-bye, I felt a little better.

  As I headed back into the Dawdi Haus with the laundry basket, I could hear Caden fussing. I put the basket down in the kitchen and hurried into the spare bedroom, but he’d already woken Marie.

  “Bring him here,” she said, pushing herself up against her pillows.

  After I changed his diaper, I placed Caden on the bed beside her and then scooted close to keep him from crawling on top of her. “Be gentle with Mama, Caden,” I said. He reached up and patted Marie’s face softly. Her eyes filled with tears as he did.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Nothing, really. It all feels so bittersweet.”

  “What?”

  “Well, sweet that we have Caden. That I didn’t get cancer before him. And bitter when I wonder if I’ll ever be able to have another baby.”

  “You might,” I said. “See how the chemo and radiation go, and then talk with your OB/GYN.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I need to concentrate on getting better—not borrowing trouble.”

  I patted her shoulder. “It’s okay to be sad. And to wonder. But don’t mourn what you haven’t lost yet.”

  “Good advice,” she said, turning her attention to Caden.

  I had to wonder if I could follow it myself.

  That night, as I knelt beside the couch to say my prayers, nothing came out. Not even a plea that I’d pass my boards if I took them again. I was completely mute. Maybe God hadn’t heard any of my prayers. Maybe He had stopped listening to me when I’d left the Amish. I climbed into my makeshift bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time before I finally fell into a restless sleep.

  When Jessica arrived the next morning, I watched Aenti Suz hurry over to her when she’d parked her buggy. Our aunt was persistent, if nothing else. I admired her determination to bring in extra income for the farm.

  It was a beautiful day, and Caden and I sat in the sandbox while Marie rested in the living room. Perhaps Jessica hadn’t spoken with Arden after all because soon Jessica was stepping into the barn and Aenti Suz was headed back toward us with Ruby in her arms.

  Aenti Suz lifted Ruby high in the air, and the two began to laugh. Caden started to wave when he noticed Ruby.

  Aenti Suz had always been poised and stylish—well, for an Amish woman anyway. She had a confidence about her that intrigued me. For being in her late sixties, she still moved with grace and seemed to carry Ruby without effort.

  As they approached, Jessica and Arden left the barn together and headed toward the pasture. Aenti Suz slowed, probably hoping to overhear their conversation. But Arden spoke loudly enough that we could all hear him. “I told you before that it’s a terrible idea.”

  “You said you’d think about it,” Jessica said.

  He stopped, crossing his arms over his barrel chest. “I don’t want Englischers traipsing through our property.”

  “They’d be staying in the Dawdi Haus—not having access to all one hundred and forty acres,” Jessica responded.

  “Absolutely not,” Arden said. “We’ll sell the dairy herd and the woods before we do that.”

  Jessica put her hands on her hips. “This could be what we need to tide us over. If we can hold on to the herd for another year, things may turn around. Perhaps the competition won’t be as fierce.”

  Arden shook his head and continued toward the pasture, where Milton was dragging the field.

  “This discussion isn’t over!” Jessica called out after him. “We need to come to a consensus!”

  He waved his hand as he stalked away, his long beard blowing to the side.

  My heart sank. It was such a good idea.

  Aenti Suz reached us and lowered Ruby into the sandbox. The children hugged each other, and Aenti Suz sank to her knees beside me. “Goodness, I was hoping that would go better than it did.” She sighed. “I was looking forward to serving Englisch guests. When Marie and I were in Florida, our landlady was so kind and caring. I was hoping to do the same.”

  “Don’t give up.” I nodded toward Jessica, who was walking our way with her classic determined expression on her face. “I don’t think this fight is over.”

  When she reached us, she knelt too. “I’ll keep talking with him,” she said, confirming my suspicions. “It’s a good idea. If we can get through the next year or so, hopefully things will change.”

  I patted her shoulder.

  She cooed a hallo to Caden and then asked where Mamm was.

  I shrugged.

  “Is she helping more?”

  I shook my head.

  “Where’s Marie?”

  “Reading on the couch,” I answered. “You should go sit with her. I thought I’d do some weeding.” I nodded toward the garden. “I can keep an eye on the kids at the same time.”

  “I’ll grab the tools,” Aenti Suz said. When she returned from the shed with a hoe and a weed puller, we headed to the garden.

  As we worked the rows of beans, I asked Aenti Suz what she thought was wrong with Mamm.

  “In general? Or specifically?”

  Before I could answer, Aenti Suz continued. “She had a rough childhood—I don’t think she ever got over it. Losing her firstborn exacerbated all of that.”

  I knew little about Mamm’s childhood. She was the youngest of a large family, and her mother and father had died while she was still a girl. Then she lived with an older brother until she and Dat married.

  Aenti Suz continued, “And then, far as what’s specifically wrong now, I think her heart is still broken over losing your Dat.”

  Mamm never talked about Dat. I was never sure what exactly attracted them to each other, but if I’d learned anything in life it was that you could never know what went on between two people. “It’s been four years,” I pointed out.

  Aenti Suz shrugged. “Sometimes it takes a lifetime.”

  I stopped hoeing and stood up straight. “Really?” Most Amish didn’t stay heartbroken. Had Aenti Suz never recovered from losing her sweetheart? “Is that why you never married?”

  She smiled, just a little. “No. I would have married if I found the right man. I never did.”

  “What about David?”

  She sighed. “I was quite fond of David. More than any man I
’ve known since Jake.”

  “And?”

  She shrugged again. “The timing wasn’t right.”

  “Did you write him back?” I asked, remembering the letter that had arrived weeks ago.

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t necessary.”

  Puzzled, I continued with my hoeing, glancing at the children every so often. My mind wandered to my failed test, and then to Marie’s appointment the next day with Dr. Turner. I groaned inside. Hopefully he wouldn’t ask me if I’d passed or not. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t want to talk about it while the pain still felt so raw.

  Dr. Turner didn’t forget. It was the second thing he asked, after how Marie was feeling.

  He must have been able to tell by the expression on my face before I even opened my mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not unusual to fail the first time. I’ve known other nurses who have—and they’re some of the most qualified I know. You’re not alone.”

  “Thank you for telling me.” I didn’t know many doctors who would be so encouraging.

  “I hate to admit this”—he glanced at Marie—“but I failed the third step of my exams the first time I took them. I was devastated at the time, but it kept me humble and made me a better doctor. The extra studying I had to do definitely put me ahead as far as my knowledge in the long run.”

  Hope rose within me. I really appreciated his transparency.

  He quickly turned his attention to Marie, asking her general questions and checking her incision. He was pleased with how her wound was healing.

  “What about the pathology report?” I asked.

  “The cancer has spread to the nearby lymph nodes,” he explained. “We anticipated this, and that’s why chemo is the next step.” He looked at Marie. “I spoke with your oncologist this morning, and he said you have an appointment today.”

  She nodded.

  “Then you’ll soon have a plan in the works for that.” As the appointment ended, he extended his hand to Marie. “I’m so sorry for the circumstances,” he said, “but it was a privilege to care for you. I’ll continue to pray for you and your family.”

  My heart melted at his words. He was exceptional. Marie shook his hand, and then he turned toward me. I shook his hand too and thanked him profusely.

  “I’d like to help you.” He released my hand. “If you’d allow me to.”

  Puzzled, I tilted my head.

  “I’ve heard nurses talking about the best study program for the licensing exam. I’d like to buy it for you.”

  I stifled a gasp. “Oh no. I couldn’t accept that.”

  “Please,” he said. “As one Anabaptist in medicine to another.” He smiled. “Don’t you think we should stick together?”

  Before I could answer, he slid a notepad my way. “Just write down your information and I’ll set up an account for you.”

  “No.” I crossed my arms.

  “It would be my privilege,” he said. “A family friend helped me out when I was in your position. I’d like to pay it forward.”

  I glanced at Marie, who just shrugged.

  I hadn’t decided, for sure, what I planned to do—take the test again or figure being a nurse wasn’t God’s will for me after all. Dr. Turner met my gaze and smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back. In that split second, I decided I’d take it again. I’d do all I could to be prepared and do my very best. If I failed a second time, that would be it. I’d know for sure God was trying to redirect me.

  “What do you think?” Dr. Turner asked.

  The study program certainly wouldn’t hurt. “Thank you.” I pulled the notepad toward me and wrote down both my email and my cell phone number for registration purposes. “That’s very kind of you.” There wouldn’t be any strings attached—it wasn’t as if I’d ever see Dr. Turner again.

  He smiled. “Check your email later today and you’ll find directions on how to log in and access the program.”

  I smiled back, feeling relieved. Now I had some clarity on what to do, a plan. I thanked Dr. Turner one last time and we left.

  Marie and I went straight from that appointment to her oncologist, who was the exact opposite of Dr. Turner. He was abrupt, rushed, and insensitive. He didn’t ask how Marie was doing or what support she had. His waiting room was full, so perhaps he was behind on his appointments, but I believed he could have used a better bedside manner, regardless. Marie would start chemo in a month. After that, the doctor would decide whether she needed to do radiation too.

  On the way home, Marie held a pillow across her abdomen and pressed her head against the back of the seat.

  “It’s time for your pain meds,” I said gently.

  “I’ll take them when we get back to the farm,” she said. “After I spend some time with Caden.”

  I turned off the highway and on to Oak Road. As I approached the farmhouse, Nick’s truck came into view, parked where I usually parked my car.

  And there he was, on the porch in Dat’s rocking chair. I hadn’t expected him this soon. Mamm sat in her chair, a scowl on her face, while Aenti Suz sat on the far end of the porch with Caden as he played with some blocks. Nick quickly stood and started down the steps once he saw my car.

  I parked next to Nick’s pickup, and before I could climb out he was at my door, holding it open for me. Then he went around to get Marie’s door.

  Caden started yelling, “Mama!”

  As Nick and I walked on either side of Marie, she asked him what brought him to Lancaster.

  He answered, “To help Leisel study.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.” She turned her head toward me. “You’ll have to get away though. There’s too much chaos around here.”

  It was painful to watch Marie slowly navigate the steps up the porch. “I’ll sit next to Mamm.” Marie gave me a sly look. Mamm wouldn’t treat her coldly with Nick around. Once Marie settled into the rocking chair, she placed the pillow against her abdomen and then said she’d try holding Caden. Aenti Suz helped get him settled against his mother, and Marie smiled. Then she addressed Mamm. “Leisel’s going to go spend some time with Nick. Can you help?”

  Mamm frowned.

  “Bethel, let’s give Leisel some time away,” Aenti Suz said. “I’ll make supper for all of us.”

  Mamm didn’t agree, but she didn’t protest either.

  “Go get your things,” Marie said to me.

  I grabbed my laptop and backpack from the Dawdi Haus, and it wasn’t long until Nick and I were on the way to a bakery and coffee shop in Bird-in-Hand. We both ordered large coffees, black, and then settled down at a table in the very back.

  “Have you thought about using a study program?” Nick asked, pulling out his laptop. “I know a few that are useful. I’d be happy to purchase one for you.”

  My face grew warm. “I already have one,” I confessed. I hesitated, but then said, “Marie’s surgeon paid for it.”

  Nick went still. “What?”

  “He insisted. He said someone had helped him out when he failed one of his tests, and he wanted to pay it forward.”

  “Is this the Mennonite doctor you were telling me about?” Nick’s eyes narrowed.

  I nodded. I powered up my laptop, logged into my email, and then clicked on the link to the program. I had no reason to be embarrassed. I barely knew Dr. Turner.

  Nick continued to watch me as I pulled my notebook out of my backpack and then dug through the pocket of my backpack for a pen. I found one—and also the phone number from the woman whose husband died. The one I couldn’t save. I double-folded it and put it back.

  I began plowing through study question after study question, Nick helping me whenever I didn’t understand the answer. We worked until the barista came around and said, “It’s seven. Time to close.”

  “Oh goodness.” Where had the hours gone? I thanked the barista and then looked at Nick.

  “Time flies when you’re having fun.” He grinned. “Right?”

  There were all sorts of clichés that
he’d taught me through the years. And I’d usually respond with an Amish proverb, whether it made sense or not. The one that came to mind wasn’t entirely inappropriate, but I said it anyway: “All that you do, do with all your might. Things done by halves are never done right.”

  He laughed. “I guess that means we’ll study together again tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” I didn’t feel the distance I had when we’d talked on the phone last, but I didn’t feel the closeness we normally shared either—perhaps because we still hadn’t talked about the Air Force.

  Nevertheless, I did appreciate his help studying. Between Nick and Dr. Turner, maybe I had a chance at passing the second time.

  As we headed to his pickup, he asked if I’d be willing to stop by his parents’ house on the way back to the farm. “I know my folks would like to see you. They’ve been asking about you.”

  “Sure.” Guilt swamped me that I’d repeatedly driven past the turnoff to his house and hadn’t visited once. Of course I had a good excuse, but it wasn’t like me to stay away.

  He grinned. “Good. Mom said she has a pan of leftover lasagna we can eat.”

  13

  Barbara and Doug both greeted me as we came through the door, and then Stephanie and Kaylee came running down the stairs to say hello too. Both were in college now. Nick and I filled our plates with lasagna and bread, and then we all headed out to the backyard.

  The mosquito zappers were working overtime, and a string of lights hung over the picnic table. Even though the sun hadn’t set yet, the lights created a cozy ambiance. The Jordans’ home made me feel safe and secure, and stepping into their backyard made me feel like I was on vacation—not that I’d ever been on one. But the yard was so beautiful in the summer with its flowers, shrubs, and trees that it was an oasis away from the chaos surrounding me.

  Barbara asked about Marie, and I gave them all an update. Then the girls wanted to know how Ruby and Caden were doing. They’d always been interested in my niece and nephew and had asked a couple of times when they could meet them.

  One time Nick asked if his parents could meet Mamm and my sisters, and even Arden and his family, but I hadn’t been ready for that. Nick had barely met Mamm and Arden and his family.