“No, I don’t mind.” Natalie swallowed hard. “I was just thinking of how few pictures I do have of my family. Now this other photo, I remember this one, too. It was the night I had my first solo act. I thought I was something else.” Thirteen and so full of herself, with one hand on her hip and a saucy tilt to her head, her unruly brown hair pulled back and wrangled into a solitary braid hung over one shoulder. She had the first subtle curves of early womanhood.
Next, a photo of her parents, doing their trapeze act. No one could mistake the joy on Mom’s face. The photo captured her in midair as she reached out for Dad, his hands ready to catch her. Natalie’s heart twinged in her chest. She knew this first Christmas without Mom good-naturedly hollering at her on the phone several times a day would be hard. Somehow this made it a little easier than ignoring the reality altogether. Then there was the matter of the FedEx box from Dad, its contents still waiting for her to face them, and deal with them.
“You have a legacy here, Natalie. You’re still a gifted artist, even though you’re not a performer anymore.” Grace sighed. “If I could do half the moves you younger ones do . . .”
“Ha.” Natalie studied the details of the last photo, taken right before what she called The Fall. The photographer had captured a shot of her, performing an upside-down splits. She’d had hundreds of pictures taken during her all-too-short aerial silks career, but this one captured the same joy her mother’s face held. The silks held Natalie more than thirty feet above the floor. No net. No fear, until . . . “I bet you still could.”
“I know this Christmas is probably hard for you, but I didn’t want you to feel like you’re alone.” Grace touched her arm.
“I don’t, not really. Thank you . . . I love the pictures.” Natalie nodded and blinked hard. No tears. “But you’re right. It’s been a hard Christmas this year. Seeing that Amish family today . . .”
“What is it?”
“My dad sent me a box, and it just got here yesterday. He told me he was sending some things that belonged to my mom. Things she had stuffed away somewhere.” Funny how she thought she knew someone, and then everything could change with one box sent overnight from California.
“What do you mean? What about your mother? I don’t understand. What did your father send you?”
“I figured my family had no skeletons in the closet, no secrets.” Natalie took a deep breath and sighed. “That’s not true. Because, going by what Dad sent me in the box, my mother, Kat Bennett, used to be Katie Yoder. Grace, she was Amish.”
“Your daughter has had a traumatic brain injury, besides her compound femur fracture and internal bleeding,” said Dr. Chen, the neurologist. “The MRI of her brain doesn’t show any bleeding or a hematoma, but we do know she won’t be safe to travel for quite some time, at the very least because of her fracture. It may be all she needs is time for the inflammation in her brain to subside, or she may need antiseizure medication permanently. We have no way of knowing right now, but we’ll be monitoring her medication very carefully.”
Jacob nodded. “I understand.” The hospital noises swirled around them, asking for his attention. But Rebecca, not able to travel. He’d have to make arrangements. Ephraim and Katie were heading back to Ohio soon, as was their original plan. As had been his and the children’s. The cabinet shop would open after New Year’s, without him. He couldn’t and wouldn’t leave Rebecca. He couldn’t expect his grandparents to care for a wounded child. After losing Hannah, he’d kept them as close to him as possible.
“We want to keep her for at least a week to make sure her scans stay clear, and then we’ll release her after Orthopedics clears her. But she’ll need close follow-up with specialists, including me.” Dr. Chen’s pager started beeping. He removed it from his belt loop and glanced at the display. “I think she’ll do fine on the main pediatrics floor until her release.”
“We’ll stay here in Sarasota until you clear her to travel.” He shook hands with Dr. Chen. “Thank you, thank you so much for what you’ve done for Rebecca. It’s a miracle that she’s alive.”
“I must agree with you on that, Mr. Miller.” Dr. Chen gave him a nod. “I’ll sign off on her orders for now, but I’ll be back if her condition changes.”
Then he was gone, leaving Jacob alone in the conference area, a little nook with small café tables and chairs, used by physicians needing a quiet place to confer with their patients’ families. He was glad for a few seconds alone. He could think better this way. Thankfully, the neurologist hadn’t talked to him as if he were a dimwit. Maybe he only had the equivalent of an eighth-grade education, but he wasn’t stupid. His gut told him it would be months before he and the children would board the Pioneer Trails bus for Ohio.
Mammi and Daadi would be delighted, of course, to have them stay, even though the reason was a tragedy. He and the children would fill up his grandparents’ tiny home. He would make sure the children attended school in Pinecraft, or worked out home lessons for Rebecca once the doctor cleared her. And Zeke. Zeke would have a hard time going anywhere without his older sister.
Jacob leaned his head on his chin. Then, the matter of the hospital bill. He’d already contacted his bishop in Ohio. Together, they would all help pay for Rebecca’s hospital bills. Local members from their district were already pitching in to help in large ways and small.
This also meant Jacob would need a job while he was here in Sarasota. He knew he couldn’t spend all his time at the hospital. His grandparents had limited resources. He himself had some savings, but wasn’t about to start tapping into them. Gotte, so many things to think of and consider, but I know You are helping pave the way. I know You are working in this situation, but I still can’t help but think I should have never left Ohio.
None of this would have happened if he hadn’t come to Sarasota. What’s done was done, and there was no taking back his decision. However, his daughter’s pain was too high a price to pay for a week or so of self-indulgence.
He needed to return to Rebecca’s room. She’d been through much, and Hannah would have been pleased at how strong Rebecca had been through the whole ordeal.
As soon as Jacob left the consultation room’s carpeted area and stepped onto the tiled hallway, he nearly collided with a young woman in a sky blue dress and white apron. She held a small bouquet of flowers.
“Betsy.”
Betsy Yoder’s brown eyes grew round in her face. A pink glow shot to her cheeks. “J-J-Jacob.” Her free hand smoothed the top of her prayer covering and patted down a few stray hairs. “I’m here to see Rebecca. I heard she’s out of ICU.”
“Yes, yes she is.” He sidestepped and increased the space between them, like a crab they’d seen scuttle from the water. “We had quite a scare yesterday. She had a seizure.”
“Oh, no!” Betsy’s long strides matched his, her flip-flops slapping the floor. Taller than a lot of the women in his Order, she had an air of both responsibility and warmth. Jacob glanced at the flowers she held. Too bad she hadn’t brought one of her legendary pies, but food like pie was probably off limits at the hospital. His stomach growled.
“She’s doing better today. I just had a meeting with the neurologist. It looks like we’ll be staying here in Florida for a while.” He nodded at a man passing by, who stared at the pair of them curiously.
“But what about your job?” Betsy stopped when Jacob paused outside Rebecca’s doorway. “How long do you think you’ll have to stay here? Not that it’s bad at all. Sometimes I think I’d like very much to stay in Florida.”
He felt a warm hand on his arm and looked down. Betsy pulled her hand back and clamped it firmly on the bouquet. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be here. Months, probably. I’m going to see about making a phone call to the cabinet shop. I hope they’ll hold my job for me. They probably will.”
“Of course they will.” Betsy nodded. “They have to.” She clamped her lips together.
Jacob entered Rebecca’s hospital room. Over the past few d
ays, it started to fill with cards and encouraging notes, just as Mammi’s refrigerator brimmed with food from the neighborhood.
“Daed.” Rebecca’s smile lit the room and rivaled the Florida sunlight streaming through the window. “And Betsy, too.”
“Flowers for you, to brighten your room.” Betsy held out the bouquet, and Rebecca clutched it and held the flowers to her nose.
“Thank you. They’re very pretty.” Rebecca set them on the tray table close beside her bed, next to the orange the clown had brought her three days ago. Rebecca didn’t want to eat it, but just look at her “gift” from the lady clown.
Was Christmas only three days ago? Jacob’s days had started to run together, ever since the accident. With his everyday routine gone, he fought to hold onto some sense of order. Morning prayers helped, and a walk around the neighborhood before going to the hospital.
The people of Pinecraft meant well, asking about Rebecca. But it was hard for him to have a moment of quiet thoughts before the day’s onslaught of hospital news overtook him. If only his parents were here to help. They’d had to leave for Ohio the day after Christmas, but he promised to keep them informed of Rebecca’s condition and progress.
“Do you need anything, Rebecca?” Betsy asked.
“I miss my doll.”
Jacob touched the top of Rebecca’s head. “I’ll bring it later. I promise.”
Betsy busied herself with adjusting Rebecca’s pillows. For some reason, the gesture made Jacob’s throat tighten. He hadn’t asked for her help and the motherly action made him shift on his feet.
Had Betsy been talking to his sister-in-law? He knew he’d told Ephraim the other day he would prepare himself to “move on” once they returned to Ohio. But he wasn’t about to have someone push him into it. No matter how pretty her hair and efficient her mannerisms, no matter how much the idea of her pies made his mouth water, Betsy Yoder couldn’t make him give her a second glance.
“Daed, are you all right?” Rebecca’s voice sounded concerned.
“I am just fine, just fine.” He glanced at Betsy. She’d quit fluffing the pillows and fussing over the blankets, and now stood back a step from the bedside. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I wonder if the clown lady will come back.”
“Clown lady?” Betsy asked.
Jacob opened his mouth, but Rebecca continued. “A clown lady came on Christmas day and brought me the orange. I . . . I had a seizure while she was here. I hope it didn’t scare her.”
“She didn’t seem afraid. I think she’s seen it happen before.” Jacob tried to reassure her. “She visits a lot of sick kids.”
A soft knock sounded in the doorway. “Excuse me? May I please come in?”
Jacob shot a look to the source of the voice. A young woman, with long dark hair streaming past her shoulders, stood in the doorway. She wore a pair of pink cropped pants and a simple white blouse. She carried a familiar-looking tote bag in a kaleidoscope of colors that reminded Jacob of wildflowers.
3
Of course, Mr. Miller and his daughter looked at Natalie as if she’d entered the wrong room. They’d never seen her before like this, in her street clothes and without a load of clown makeup clogging her pores.
Natalie cleared her throat. “I met you on Christmas Day,Mr. Miller. I, um, was the clown who visited you.”
Natalie’s visit today had two purposes. First, she wanted to see how Rebecca was doing. Also, Natalie hoped the elderly couple would be present, or at least Rebecca’s Aunt Katie. She might get a few answers to the questions raised by the box Dad had shipped to her.
Mr. Miller blinked and tugged on his suspenders, then glanced at his daughter. They weren’t the room’s only occupants. A young woman stood, her eyes round in her smooth complected face as she assessed Natalie.
“You came back,” said Rebecca Miller. “I’m sorry I got sick in front of you.”
“Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t help it.” Natalie approached her bedside. “I wanted to see how you were doing today. I’ve been praying for you. And your family.”
“She’s doing much better, thank you.” Mr. Miller wore the same guarded expression she’d seen on Christmas day. Natalie almost wanted to make him smile to see if his eyes would light up. She shrugged off the thought. What this family had been through.
“I don’t know your name, Miss, um, Bubbles . . .” Rebecca snapped Natalie’s attention from Jacob Miller.
“I’m Natalie Bennett. You know, Bubbles isn’t my real name.” She reached for Rebecca’s hand, and shook it.
Rebecca gave a soft laugh. “I knew that. Right, Daed?”
Jacob nodded, but didn’t look at Natalie. Instead, he appeared to study the other young woman.
Natalie took a few mental steps backwards. She’d interrupted something with Jacob Miller and this woman, who stared at Natalie’s pink capris. Worse, she hadn’t thought things through. A hospital room wasn’t the place to start any search for her roots. Not now, with a little girl recovering here.
She wished the small crowd present on Christmas day had shown up today. “Well, I might just have to come back again and help you juggle sometime.”
“You . . . you work as a clown?” The other woman in the blue dress finally spoke.
Natalie nodded. “I volunteer here once a week in the pediatrics ward. Normally, I’m a circus school teacher here in Sarasota. Pathway to the Stars.”
“Really?” The woman’s eyebrows shot up to the top of her forehead. “How did you come upon that job?”
“I grew up in the business. I used to work in the circus, too.” Natalie glanced from Jacob, to Rebecca, to the woman again. “My parents were both circus performers, and I used to do aerial silk routines.”
“Really?” The woman repeated herself. “I’ve never met a circus performer before. Have you, Jacob?”
“No, I haven’t.” Jacob looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but there at the present moment. Of course, he must. Who’d want to be visiting their child in the hospital?
And this woman hovered near Rebecca as if she wanted to ward off any bad influences Natalie might bring to the child. Ridiculous. But the woman took a step closer to Rebecca and stood near the head of the reclining hospital bed, currently elevated so Rebecca could sit up.
“They have a high wire act, too,” the woman said.
“Oh, I hope I can get home to see that.” Rebecca looked down at her blankets and scrunched the fabric with her fingers. “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.”
“Nonsense.” Jacob shook his head. “Christmas came and we enjoyed our time together. And I promise you, when we get you back to Mammi and Daadi’s house, we will go to the beach, and get ice cream again, and watch the older kids playing volleyball at the beach. And go to the singings and play at the park.”
“I can’t wait to go home.” Rebecca glanced at Natalie. “I hope you’ll come and help me juggle when I get home.”
Natalie cleared her throat and dared not look at Jacob or the woman across from him. “Maybe I will. I’d like that. It sounds like your father has a lot of fun things planned to help you get better.” She picked up her bag and took out a set of juggling balls. “I tell you what. If your dad doesn’t mind, I’ll leave two of these balls with you. I want you to practice tossing from one hand to the other. Your hands will learn how to do it. Of course, if your doctor tells you to rest, I’m sure you’ll listen to him.”
“Of course, she will,” came Jacob’s terse response. “My daughter knows how to listen to authority.”
Natalie nodded. “I’m sure she does. You have very polite and respectful children, Mr. Miller.” It was her cue to leave. “I hope to see you again, Rebecca. Or maybe Bubbles will come back before then and see how you’re doing on your juggling.”
She couldn’t resist shooting a grin to Jacob and the young woman, who she guessed to be about eighteen, maybe a little older. Clearly, if there wasn’t a Mrs. Miller in the picture, this l
ady in blue would step up for the position. Maybe that was why Jacob looked like he wanted to tuck his daughter in his arms and run from the hospital.
He also looked like the kind of man who’d make up his own mind and let said lady in blue down gently, if need be.
“Thank you for coming by, Miss Bennett.” Jacob finally met her eyes. Eyes that blue weren’t legal. And she didn’t need to think about them, actually. If anything, she needed to wish him and the would-be Mrs. Miller in the room all the best.
Next time she came to the hospital, she’d talk to his sister-in-law about finding out some information about the items her father had sent to her.
Mom, Amish? Kat Bennett was once Katie Yoder? It was like learning her dad had bought a house and a minivan. Okay, so he was a stuntman in L.A., but the very idea of her father putting down roots somewhere was nearly as ludicrous.
Natalie merely waved at Fran on her way out and didn’t stop at the desk. God, I don’t know who I am anymore, or who my family is anymore.
What little she did know about the Amish, she knew the families stuck together. She didn’t know if she considered it stifling or comforting. But look how the Millers and those connected with them gathered when Rebecca had been injured.
Jacob Miller, I almost envy you . . . Natalie bit her lip and headed for the elevator.
Things like pink cropped pants were just one of the reasons Bishop had given Jacob an unspoken warning against visiting Sarasota. Now, Jacob realized he was doomed to be here for who knows how much longer.
How could he not help but notice Natalie Bennett?
He managed to escape from Betsy and her smiling face before anyone saw them get off the bus together. This never would have happened, had he taken Henry Hostetler’s offer of a hiring a driver to take him to see Rebecca. But it was cheaper to ride the city bus.
And so, he and Betsy had ridden the thirty minutes or so, side by side on a bus seat back to Pinecraft. A few other Plain people rode too, interspersed among the Englisch. And what they would all say about seeing him with Betsy . . .
A Season of Change Page 3