by Leslie Gould
“Yes,” I answered, stopping myself from saying anything more. She did have three daughters.
She pressed her lips together and then said, “I suppose that will be all right.”
Relieved, I realized I hadn’t shared Marie’s good news and quickly explained the results of the PET scan.
Mamm blinked a couple of times. “Well, isn’t that something.”
David spoke, a broad smile on his face. “Thank God,” he said. “We have so much to be grateful for.” He met Mamm’s eyes and she smiled a little. Perhaps the man could change her in ways Dat never could.
“Is Aenti Suz in her Dawdi Haus?” I asked.
“No, she’s here,” Mamm said. “She has guests out in her place this weekend. A couple from Tennessee.”
“I’ll tell her hello before I go.” I stepped into the house, squinting in the dim light. Aenti Suz stood at the sink, wringing out a dishcloth. The dish rack was full.
“Who are you?” I asked as I approached, nodding toward Mamm and David on the porch. “Cinderella?”
She laughed. “I sent them out. With so few of us, the cleanup is fast.”
I stepped around the island, leaned against the counter, and told her about Marie’s appointment.
“Oh, what a blessing.” She grabbed a towel. “Did your mother tell you her news?”
I nodded and grabbed a second towel. “What do you think?”
“I’m over the moon for both of them,” she said as she dried a plate. “And your Dat would be pleased. He knew David way back when and always respected him.”
“Oh?”
Aenti Suz nodded as she put the plate in the cupboard.
For a moment I suspected that she’d played matchmaker. Did she think Mamm needed a husband more than she did? I exhaled. Surely she wouldn’t have done that. But then again, I wouldn’t put it past her. “So what are you going to do?” I asked as I dried another plate.
She shrugged. “I’d like to keep renting out the Dawdi Haus, but I doubt Arden and Vi will want me to keep living in this house.”
I doubted that too.
“I’ve been toying with the idea of doing some sort of service work.”
“Really?” I felt a tinge of jealousy and hoped it hadn’t come through in my voice.
“I’ve talked with the director from Mennonites Serve. She’s pulling some information together for me.”
“You’re thinking something long-term?”
She smiled, grabbing a handful of forks. “Perhaps. If I’m ever going to do that sort of thing, I’d better while I still can.”
I asked her to let me know what she found out. If I didn’t have student loans to pay back, I’d be tempted to go with her.
She pulled the silverware drawer open and began putting the forks away. “Have you heard from Nick?”
I exhaled, maybe a little too loudly.
“What?”
“Oh, it’s just that Marie asked me the same thing today.” I hung up my towel. “I haven’t. Not a word.”
“Have you contacted him?”
I leaned against the counter again. “No. Why would I do that?”
Aenti Suz met my eyes. “Because he’s your friend. A very good friend, I might add. Probably the best friend you’ve ever had.”
“I’m dating Stephen. And I’m going to join the Mennonite church. Nick ran off and joined the Air Force, remember?”
“Well . . .” Aenti Suz hung up her towel. “I hope you’ll forgive him someday. And once you do, I hope you won’t neglect him.” Her eyes met mine. “True friends are hard to find.”
Tears stung my eyes, catching me off guard. I blinked them away. At least I still had my sisters. And Stephen. But Aenti Suz was right. Nick was the best friend I’d ever had.
The Friday night that worked best for Jessica was the one where Mamm was away. I did the grocery shopping after I got off work, then I picked up Marie, and together we went out to Jessica’s house. She came out with her bag in one arm and Ruby in the other and then asked me if I’d go over to John and Mildred’s Dawdi Haus with her. “You too, Marie,” Jessica said. “Mildred’s taken a turn for the worse. Her doctor has written an order for hospice, but she doesn’t want to start it yet.”
I wasn’t sure what Jessica wanted me to do, and she must have sensed I was puzzled because she said, “She’s impressed you’re a nurse and has heard good things about your work at the clinic. Maybe you could just talk with her for a few minutes and give her your opinion.”
“All right.” Mildred had been diagnosed with breast cancer five years ago. She’d been very ill a couple of times and then rallied, and she’d gone into remission once. But her chances didn’t sound good now.
Clouds scuttled over the horizon as we walked across the driveway. Ruby reached for me and I took her, giggling as I jostled her along. John and Silas stepped out of the barn and waved. Jessica called out that we were all going to say hello to Mildred.
Silas approached me and reached for Ruby. “It’s just you and me this weekend,” he cooed in Pennsylvania Dutch.
She fell into his arms, laughing as Jessica kissed her good-bye.
When we reached the Dawdi Haus, Jessica knocked softly and then opened the door. Mildred sat on the couch, wrapped in a quilt. She wore a scarf instead of a Kapp.
“Leisel is here,” Jessica said. “And Marie too.”
“Oh, Marie,” Mildred whispered. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re better. I’ve been praying for you every single day.”
“Denki.” Marie stepped closer and knelt in front of Mildred, taking her hand and gently stroking her thin skin. “How are you feeling?”
“Not well.” She raised her head a little and met my eyes. “I’m hoping you can help me decide about hospice, Leisel.”
I knelt beside Marie.
“I’ve heard there are preachers who work for hospice—who aren’t Amish, of course,” Mildred said, “who might come out and try to minister to me.”
“Not if you don’t want them to.” I took her other hand. “You have your own people to minister to you. What you need are the aides and nurses to come in and bathe you and give you your medicine and help manage your pain. I worked with hospice nurses at the care facility in Pittsburgh. They really helped alleviate the pain of patients and the stress on their families too.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’d like to stay at home. . . .”
“They should be able to make that possible,” I answered. “Unless a complication makes it necessary for you to be transported to the hospital.”
“Do you think it would be a big help to John?”
“Absolutely.” I peered into her eyes. “It will make the time you two spend together higher quality because he won’t have to be trying to do everything on his own. He’ll still have plenty to do, but he’ll have others to share the work. I think it’s a good idea, and if you’re having a hard time with daily tasks, such as getting enough nutrition, bathing, and toileting, then it’s best to start as soon as possible.” Doctors usually wrote the orders when they believed a person had six months or less to live. My guess was that Mildred had a few weeks to a month or so. It was past time to start hospice.
She nodded her head slowly. “I’ll talk with John and have him make the call then.”
“Please let Jessica know to contact me if I can help,” I said. “It would be my privilege.”
She took my hand. “You’re so much like your Dat.” She smiled weakly. “And like your grandparents too—I knew them when I was a girl.”
My heart swelled at her words, connecting me to all three of them. All because of Aenti Suz’s story.
We told her good-bye, and then I flagged down John by the chicken coop and told him what I’d told Mildred. He assured me he’d keep my offer in mind.
Jessica hesitated about leaving and asked John if he preferred that she stay.
“Nee,” he said. “Go be with your sisters. I’ll get Silas if we need anything.�
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We all climbed into my car, sad and subdued. By the time we reached the farm, it was completely dark. We gathered up all of the groceries and bags and headed up the front steps. A lamp shone in the window, which warmed my heart.
Marie opened the door and we stepped inside to the savory smell of soup and homemade bread. The big old oak table was set for three with a big green salad in the middle.
“Do you think Mamm did this before she left?” Marie asked, her voice hopeful.
I didn’t. “My guess is Aenti Suz.”
22
Aenti Suz was staying in her Dawdi Haus for the weekend, and we had to beg her to join us for dinner.
“No, no, no,” she said. “This is a time for you three sisters.”
We begged her some more. “You’ve been such a blessing to all of us,” Jessica said. “You know more about us than we know about ourselves. Please join us.”
She relented.
As we sat around the table, we talked about Dat. Jessica shared stories of working with him on the farm. Marie talked about his harmonica that Gordon now had. And I spoke of friends and family coming to him with their ailments and him offering them supplements and advice.
“He really impacted all of us,” Marie said.
Aenti Suz cleared her throat. “Don’t forget the role your mother played in your childhood too.”
Nothing came to mind immediately.
“She made it possible for your father to do the things he did.”
That was what all Amish wives did—supported their husbands.
“She took good care of you girls.”
Marie gripped her spoon. “She did. But she also taught us a lot of fear and legalism.”
Aenti Suz smiled. “Jah, she was fearful in many ways. But I think, considering her childhood and the loss of Rebecca, she did her best.” Aenti Suz tipped her head back. “We all make mistakes that have ramifications that last a lifetime. I hope, in time, all of you will be able to forgive your mother for holding everything and everyone too tightly. She never learned to open her fist, to let God take the burden from her.”
Jessica spoke first. “You’re right. I’ve forgiven her. I have no reason not to.”
“So have I,” Marie said. “I know I hurt her deeply, which wasn’t my intention. All in all, she’s reacted exactly the way I expected her to. But I couldn’t live my life for her.”
All three looked at me. I shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about if I have anything to forgive her for or not.”
Now they were staring at me. Marie’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
Jessica sighed. “Avoiding conflict again? With yourself?”
I laughed, as if I thought she was joking. Aenti Suz stood and started collecting plates. I jumped up to help.
Aenti Suz stopped with a plate in each hand. “I’m totally changing the subject, but I have a favor to ask all of you.”
“Anything,” Jessica said.
“Pass the stories I’ve told you on to the next generation in the family. To any who are willing to listen.”
We all nodded in agreement.
“Make sure they know the value of this land. And the brave men and women who came before all of us. And what your father meant to all of you.”
“And you too,” I said.
“And Mamm,” Marie added.
We sat for a moment in silence, but then Aenti Suz, heading to the kitchen said, “I made a peach cobbler.”
I followed her. “I’ll start a pot of decaf.”
“And then I’m going out to the Dawdi Haus.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m so glad you have this time together.”
I had a wonderful time with Jessica and Marie. We all crashed in our old bedroom, and then stayed up too late. Several times they tried to get me to talk about Stephen, but I evaded their prodding. Then Marie tried to get me to talk about Nick. I managed to redirect the conversation that time too.
But late Saturday afternoon as we sat on the porch, Jessica asked about Stephen again. Perhaps my guard was down after spending so many hours with them.
“Do you love him as much as you loved Nick?” she asked. When I didn’t answer, she said, “Leisel . . .” the way she used to when we were young, when she really wanted to know what I was thinking.
“Does it matter if I do?” I asked. “Nick joined the Air Force. I can’t support him in that. Jah, I left the Amish, but I didn’t give up my beliefs of nonresistance.”
“Perhaps he didn’t understand that.”
“He should have. I told him.”
Marie chimed in. “That still doesn’t mean he understood.”
“Right,” Jessica said. “Maybe you just implied it.”
“That’s not the way it happened,” I said.
“Really?” Jessica propped herself up on her elbow. “Because you left a note for Mamm when you went off to nursing school. And you wanted to be a trauma nurse, but now you’re working in a clinic. And you’ve avoided talking with us about Stephen this whole weekend.”
All were true.
Marie wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure you can marry Stephen when you loved Nick more?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t deny it either,” Jessica quickly pointed out.
It wasn’t often that my sisters ganged up on me, but they certainly were now. I wasn’t going to affirm or deny it with my sisters—not when Stephen might be their brother-in-law someday. “Look,” I said. “Stephen is Mennonite. He’s in medicine. He’s kind and good.”
“And handsome,” Marie chimed in.
“That’s true.”
Marie added, “But he’s not that supportive of you having a career.”
I shrugged. “I’m guessing he’ll come around to that.”
“Have you applied for a position at the hospital like you talked about?” Marie asked.
“Not yet. . . .” Why had I confided in her?
“So, basically,” Jessica said, “you gave up someone you love because he didn’t understand your ideas, and now you’re willing to compromise your dreams for someone you don’t love.”
“No,” I said. “I do love Stephen.”
“But not the way you did Nick.”
“It’s different is all—but isn’t that the way love is? You don’t ever love two people the same, right?”
Jessica stopped rocking. “I thought I loved Tom.”
“And I thought I loved Elijah,” Marie added.
“Well, maybe I thought I loved Nick but realized I didn’t once I met Stephen.”
Jessica shook her head. “I think you really are avoiding conflict with yourself.”
“Or else you’re in denial,” Marie said.
I exhaled sharply. “I don’t know what either one of you is talking about.”
“We’re talking about a girl who used to have stars in her eyes,” Jessica said. “And a boy who would do anything for her—and did. Including taking a week of vacation to study with you so you’d have the confidence to take your test again.” Jessica stood. “Stephen wouldn’t do that. He bought you the program, yes, but it didn’t cost him any time—just money. I bet once you’re married, he’ll want you to quit working as a nurse. Or at least once you’re pregnant.”
“I won’t be able to,” I said. “I’ll have my student loans to pay back.”
“He’ll pay them for you.” Jessica inhaled. “That way he’ll have more control.”
“Jessica.” I stood too. “He’s not like that.”
She crossed her arms. “Why can’t you see what’s happening? What changed for you? What’s behind all of this?”
For a moment the two of us stared at each other, at an impasse. I was always the one who got along with both of my sisters. I’d never gotten into a spat with Jessica. Why was she being so pushy?
Her face fell. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much. I didn’t mean to be such a big sister.” She reached out and touched my shoulder. “Will you forgive me?”
“Of course,” I said.
“We should get going,” Marie said. “I told Gordon I’d be home by five.”
“And I should check on Mildred,” Jessica added.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s pack up the car.”
The mood of the last twenty-four hours was restored as I drove them both home, but after I dropped them off, I considered what Jessica had said. Had I really chosen my ideology, one I shared with Stephen, over my love for Nick—and his love for me? I swallowed hard, fighting back my feelings. Avoiding conflict with myself.
I thought about those feelings after Mildred died two weeks later. John was absolutely heartbroken, even though I knew he trusted the Lord. They never had children, and Mildred was his everything here on earth.
During the service, I watched him in the front row as his shoulders shook, moved by the display of his deep love for his wife. I’d heard once that grief was the price we paid for love. But it was also the continuation of love, the evidence that love never dies.
After the service, Ruby scampered across the aisle, her pigtails bouncing up and down, and climbed up onto John’s lap. He sat there for a long time holding her. Once again, I thought of the wife of the man from the diner. I said a prayer for her, but as I did guilt washed over me. Lord, I need to call her, don’t I? But there was so much pain from that season of my life that it was hard to revisit it.
Jessica launched straight from Mildred’s funeral into planning Mamm’s wedding. I offered to help, but Mamm declined, and she refused help from Marie too, although she did invite us to the wedding.
I met Stephen at the hospital cafeteria for dinner a few days before Mamm’s wedding. We hadn’t seen each other for a while and it was the best he could manage. I’d been looking at jobs again and mentioned one in the emergency department.
“Do you think you’re ready for that?” he asked. “You don’t have any experience.”
I shrugged. “I thought I’d apply and see what happens.” He hadn’t known me when I was confident and ambitious.
I thought Stephen would have to work on the day of Mamm’s wedding, but he took it off so he could accompany me, saying he wanted to see what an Amish ceremony was like.