Huckleberry Hearts

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Of course not. I gave birth to thirteen babies, all at home. Nothing scares me.”

  Dawdi turned the magazine sideways and carefully examined one of the photos. “Is that a fish or his mother?”

  “I think it’s his arm, dear.” Mammi folded up her knitting and placed it in her canvas bag. “Cassie, this is very important. I want you to be the one to hear all the doctor’s instructions. Ask lots of questions.”

  Cassie sat on the chair next to Dawdi and reached over to squeeze Mammi’s hand. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll make sure I get all the important information.”

  “And be sure to mention his nice hair. He’s very proud of it.”

  Mammi occasionally said peculiar things that didn’t make a lot of sense. “Whose nice hair?”

  “The doctor’s. He doesn’t have any bald spots.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  They heard a quick tap on the door. Mammi’s eyes got wide, and she squeaked in delight. “It’s him.”

  Cassie didn’t know why Mammi was so thrilled about seeing the doctor, but her enthusiasm made Cassie smile. To Mammi, every minute of the day was an adventure. Her persistent excitement made her seem younger than her eighty-four years.

  The door swung open, and all of Cassie’s internal organs plummeted to the floor. This couldn’t be happening. Not when she’d been so careful to avoid the elevator.

  Zach Reynolds was Mammi’s doctor?

  The doctor’s eyebrows nearly flew off his face as he caught sight of Cassie. He halted in his tracks and stood in the doorway staring at her as if he’d walked into the women’s bathroom by mistake. He looked even more surprised to see her than she was to see him. His face grew decidedly pale, making Cassie wonder who would be the first of the two of them to throw up.

  He seemed to have to pry his eyes from her face. Clearing his throat, he smiled like Mammi was his favorite patient. “Mrs. Helmuth—”

  Mammi beamed at the doctor as if he were her best friend. “Anna, please.”

  “I’m sorry, Anna. I keep forgetting,” he said, seemingly unable to catch his breath.

  Mammi reached out, slipped her hand into the doctor’s, and tugged him forward. “Dr. Reynolds, I want you to meet my granddaughter Cassie Coblenz. She’s visiting with us for only a few short months, and she is a wonderful-gute girl.”

  “I should have guessed,” the doctor stammered. “We have matching scarves.”

  She hadn’t even realized it earlier. Of course Mammi had been the one who had made the doctor a scarf. It was almost identical to Cassie’s. She tore her gaze from his stunning aqua blue eyes. No way would she get caught up in those.

  “But the little girl ended up with mine,” he said.

  “What little girl?” Mammi said. “Do you two know each other?” She seemed almost disappointed.

  Cassie played with an errant thread sticking out from her coat. “We . . . uh . . . we met by the busy street behind the hospital. Rose Sue Fisher wandered out there by herself. Dr. Reynolds wrapped his scarf around her to keep her warm.”

  Mammi turned to the doctor. “The one I made for you?”

  The doctor nodded.

  “What a nice young man you are. I knew it right from the start.”

  “I’m afraid I accidentally left it around her shoulders,” Dr. Reynolds said.

  Mammi smiled. “Not to worry. Cassie can fetch it from the Fishers and return it.”

  She’d rather not. But she couldn’t be cross with Mammi. Mammi was only trying to be nice, just like Cassie should have been doing.

  Mammi smoothed a crease from her hospital gown. “Cassie just graduated from college in art history. She looks at a lot of naked people in her studies. You two have that in common.”

  Cassie coughed violently as what was left of her pride lodged in her throat. Mammi patted her on the back with no inkling that anything she’d said had nearly choked her granddaughter.

  Dr. Reynolds’s lips twitched upward. “Matching scarves and similar lines of work,” he said. “I like your granddaughter already.”

  Cassie lowered her eyes as her face got warm. He was teasing, but in a way that wouldn’t shame her or hurt Mammi’s feelings. She hadn’t actually expected him to be nice.

  “She graduated from the University of Chicago, which I hear is a very big school with lots of important people who go there,” Mammi said.

  “Hey, I went to UChicago,” Dr. Reynolds said. “You do look familiar. Maybe we ran into each other at the library or something.”

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “I did both undergrad and medical school there, but once I got into med school, I was usually buried in the Reg trying to make sense of biochemistry. I didn’t have much of a social life.”

  Maybe not in medical school, but his social life had thrived during his senior year. Cassie frowned. Four years ago and she still remembered as if it were yesterday.

  Zach’s roommate Finn McEwan had started a club with some of the other senior guys. The goal of the club was to see how many different coeds they could sleep with before graduation.

  Cassie didn’t entirely blame the senior boys for the success of their little club or the notoriety it gave them. The girls on campus participated knowingly and even started a club of their own to keep track of their hookups. To Cassie, an ex-Amish girl with an old-fashioned sense of right and wrong, the whole thing seemed sordid and low.

  Cassie’s roommate Tonya was fully aware of the club but still felt shocked and hurt when Finn dumped her. She had talked herself into believing Finn loved her and that their relationship was different from all the others. He, on the other hand, had just wanted to increase his tally.

  Poor Tonya.

  And everyone at school said Cassie was naïve.

  On a rainy night, Tonya had begged Cassie to go with her to Finn’s, to plead with him to take her back. The attempt was nothing short of pathetic, but Tonya had been inconsolable until Cassie had agreed to go with her, more to save Tonya from herself than anything else.

  Cassie could still smell Zach and Finn’s aged apartment. It stank of stale pizza and sweaty boys. She and Tonya had stood dripping wet just outside the door because Finn wouldn’t invite them in. Finn, with his wavy bleach-blond hair and diamond-studded class ring, told Tonya not to cry about it, that it was nothing personal against her, but that she had just been part of the contest. He even thanked her for helping him take over first place.

  Cassie had tried to pull the sobbing Tonya away from the door so Finn could close it, but Tonya had wrapped her fingers around the doorjamb and held on like a barnacle.

  At that point, Zach—who had been studying at their kitchen table—joined Finn at the door and started yelling at Cassie. She hadn’t done anything wrong and certainly hadn’t felt she deserved his disdain, but she got it anyway, along with some shockingly horrible words from the future Dr. Reynolds.

  “Don’t go sleeping around if you can’t handle the rejection,” he had said.

  “Don’t go starting a club, Dr. Reynolds, if you can’t handle jilted girls showing up at your door.”

  Of course, she hadn’t actually said that to him. She never would have dared say anything even remotely snarky. Not to superior Zach Reynolds.

  She and Tonya had walked home in the rain, wrapped up in an extra-large blanket, and drowned Tonya’s sorrows in two pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream while listening to a Beyoncé CD.

  If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it.

  Cassie glanced at the doctor. He stared at her as if expecting her to say something, as if he wanted her to reconsider giving him her phone number. She folded her arms and smiled politely.

  He cleared his throat, again. He must have found the air in Wisconsin very dry. Sitting on the stool, he gave Mammi all his attention. “Now, Anna,” he said, “we’re going to cut the cancer out of your foot and take a few lymph nodes to make sure the cancer hasn’t spread. After that
you will have to stay completely off your feet for three weeks. We’ll give you a scooter so you can get up and go to the bathroom, but that’s it. We’re also going to send you home with a wound vacuum to help keep the site completely dry and infection free.”

  “They don’t have any place to plug it in,” Cassie said.

  Dr. Reynolds looked up and smiled. Curse those brilliant white teeth. It made a girl forget why she disliked him so much. “This is a battery-operated wound vacuum, so there shouldn’t be any problem. We’ll have a home health nurse come every other day to change your dressing. After three weeks, we’ll do a skin graft. Then it’s off your feet for six or seven more weeks. You’re going to be spending a lot of time in bed.”

  Mammi nodded. “Cassie will be with me.”

  That aggravatingly attractive smile again. “Then you’re in good hands.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Dr. Reynolds pulled out his pen. “Let’s talk about medication.”

  Mammi waved him away with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I really don’t have the patience for it, Doctor. Tell Cassie what I need to know.” She picked up her knitting and acted as if she couldn’t care less what happened to her foot.

  The doctor smiled, scooted closer to Cassie, and focused his attention squarely on her. She wished he wouldn’t have. It was all she could do to keep from fidgeting under his intense gaze.

  He told her about the medications Mammi would need and promised to write explicit instructions for everything. Good idea. She wouldn’t remember half of what he told her. No wonder immature college girls fawned over him. He was too good-looking to be a doctor. He’d prove a distraction to all his patients.

  He pulled a card from his pocket and wrote a number on it. “If you have any concerns or questions, don’t hesitate to call me. Here is the number for my answering service.” He cleared his throat once. Twice. “I know Anna doesn’t have a phone. I’ll need . . .” Three times. “I’ll need your phone number so that I can call and check on your mammi tonight, if you don’t mind.”

  Cassie thought her face might burst into flames. He had tried very hard to get her number in the parking lot, and she had been clever enough to evade him. But now she’d have to give it to him for Mammi’s sake.

  Her only consolation was that Dr. Reynolds seemed as uncomfortable about it as she did. She had refused to give him her number. Under normal circumstances, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would keep hounding her about it.

  “If it makes you feel better,” he said, glancing at Mammi, “I feel like a jerk asking for it.”

  He cracked a smile. She did too.

  She repeated her number, and he punched it into his phone and grinned. “I promise I’ll delete this at the first sign of temptation.”

  “Temptation?”

  “If I’m ever tempted to call and ask you out.”

  Mammi looked up from her knitting. Dawdi didn’t budge from his Sports Illustrated. “Oh, how nice,” Mammi said.

  Why was her pulse racing? This was Zach Reynolds, for crying out loud. She lowered her eyes and put her hand to her cheek to hide the blush. “Thank you.”

  A smile played at his lips as he fell silent and briefly tinkered with his phone. “Okay,” he said. “I need your phone number again.”

  “What?”

  “Just now I was tempted to call and ask you out, so I deleted your number, just like I promised.”

  Cassie had never blushed so much in her entire life. She had to remind herself that all the doctor wanted was another notch on his bedpost. It was all guys like him ever wanted.

  “Is it okay with you if I change my promise a little?” he asked.

  She nodded doubtfully.

  “I promise to call you only if I need to discuss something about your mammi’s condition.”

  “Okay,” she said. Only after she said it did she realize she’d been holding her breath.

  He smiled and turned his full attention to Mammi once again. “Are you ready, Anna?”

  “Did you give Cassie your phone number?” Mammi said, as if the doctor’s phone number were more important than her pending surgery.

  “Yes, and she’s got all the instructions.”

  Mammi put her knitting away for good this time. “Can I call you tonight, Doctor?”

  “Yes, call me anytime you like, and I’ll call to check on you too.”

  Mammi reached over and took Cassie’s hand, then grabbed Dr. Reynolds’s hand as well. “And when will you come and visit us? Felty, do you have a piece of paper?”

  Dawdi looked up and smiled at Mammi. “Sorry, Annie. Didn’t bring any.”

  “I’ve got to have something, Felty dear.”

  Dawdi tore a corner out of one of the pages in his magazine and handed it to Mammi. “Is this okay?”

  Mammi took the paper, wrote on it, and handed it to the doctor. “Here is our address. Just plug it into the map on your phone, and you’ll be able to find us.”

  “I don’t think I can do that,” Dr. Reynolds replied.

  Mammi furrowed her brows. “Don’t you have the map on your phone? Cassie tells me everybody has one.”

  The doctor squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I don’t usually make house calls. But you can always reach me on the phone.”

  Mammi squeezed the doctor’s hand. She must have really been serious. Cassie could see her knuckles turn white. “Doctor, I would feel so much better if you came to visit me. What if my foot falls off? What if I die and leave my children bereft of a mother? What about my sixty-four grandchildren and hundred and three greats?”

  Dr. Reynolds didn’t lose that gorgeous, reassuring smile as he tried to divert Mammi’s attention. “Sixty-four grandchildren. That’s amazing.”

  Mammi would not be sidetracked. “One thing you need to know about the Amish is that we really need our doctors to visit us.”

  Cassie stiffened. Mammi had seemed so confident only a few minutes ago. Maybe the fact that she was about to go into surgery had just hit her. Mammi didn’t often talk about her own death. Cassie leaned across Dawdi, still looking at tattoos, and patted Mammi’s hand. “It will be all right. I’ll take good care of you.”

  “I’m sure you couldn’t have a better caretaker,” the doctor said.

  Dawdi pried his gaze from the magazine. “It’s no use trying to work things out right now, Annie Banannie. There’s plenty of time after your surgery.”

  Mammi shrugged and seemed to sigh with her whole body. “You’re right as usual, Felty. I’ve got two months to recover. We’ve done a lot more with a lot less time.”

  “Yes,” said the doctor with a wink. “Everything’s going to be fine. And those sixty-four grandchildren are going to get a big kick out of your scar.”

  Mammi still held Cassie by the left hand and Dr. Reynolds by the right. She brought her hands together and placed Cassie’s hand in the doctor’s. A bolt of electricity traveled up Cassie’s arm at the mere touch of Zach Reynolds’s skin. Surely her face glowed a lovely shade of purple-crimson.

  “Right now,” Mammi said, “the only grandchild I’m concentrating on is Cassie. And I know neither of you will disappoint me.”

  “We won’t,” Dr. Reynolds said, chuckling and looking as if he were surprised and pleased to be holding hands with her.

  When the doctor didn’t seem all that inclined to let go, Cassie slipped her hand from his and attempted a carefree smile to match the doctor’s. “I won’t disappoint you either, Mammi.”

  Mammi grinned like a fat kitty swimming in a bowl of cream. “I know you won’t. I’m never wrong about these things.”

  Chapter Five

  With bowl in hand, Zach sank onto his threadbare secondhand sofa and propped his feet on the short metal filing cabinet that also served as a coffee table. He had to stretch a little as he reached for the three remotes sitting on the arm of the sofa. One remote to turn on the TV, one to change the channel, and one to work the volume. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d ende
d up with so many remotes, but at least the ancient TV worked and the cable box didn’t spark and hiss like the last one.

  Not really interested in watching, he turned on the TV more for background noise than anything else. With his fork, he twirled the long, curly noodles in his bowl. Oriental-flavored ramen noodles with hot dog slices probably had as much nutritional value as a shoebox, but they were easy to fix and tasted pretty good after a long day at the hospital. His grueling schedule over the last few years had made him less picky about what he put into his mouth.

  Still, what he wouldn’t have given for a thick slice of Giordano’s Chicago-style pizza at this very moment.

  And maybe another look at the angel.

  The most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on, and he couldn’t even talk her into a date with him. There must be something fundamentally wrong with him. She’d looked past the straight teeth and the crooked nose and the doctor title. Had she been able to see into his heart? Could she tell just by looking how flawed and confused he was? And how angry he felt?

  It wasn’t just that she was pretty. If she’d been merely pretty, he would have been able to walk away from her rejection unscathed. There were lots of pretty girls who would jump at a chance to date Dr. Zach Reynolds. Her bearing, the way she carried herself had made Zach look twice, but the way she’d cared about the little Amish girl, the deference she paid to her grandparents, the kindness with which she treated him even though she didn’t want to date him, were all astonishingly attractive qualities.

  Earlier today, Zach had walked out of surgery to see Cassie engrossed in a conversation with Cheryl, the grumpiest nurse in the hospital. She didn’t like anybody, and she complained about everything, but there Cassie had been with her arm around the prickly nurse, listening to her problems and offering kindness and sympathy. Cassie was like a one-woman ministry.

  Sweet, unpretentious, kind people like her were pretty rare.

  Why would a girl like her ever give a guy like him a second glance? Girls like her dated . . . Who did girls like her date?

  Navy SEALs? Saints? Archangels?