by Sarah Price
Lydia
Upon awakening, she tried to sit up, but the excruciating pain in her head stopped her. Lifting a hand to her temple, Lydia winced and sank back into the pillows. What happened, she wondered.
The surroundings looked vaguely familiar: pine furniture, a metal bed, machines, bright lights, even the framed print of the ocean that hung on the wall. Tobias? Was she with Tobias? She frowned, trying to make sense of where she was. Clearly, she was in the hospital, that much she realized. The only thing that confused her was why.
Shutting her eyes, she searched her memory.
First Leah’s face flashed before her eyes and then Jacob’s. They stood in the barn, talking to each other in hushed voices. Thomas was there, too.
Lydia tried to remember what they discussed. She couldn’t hear the words clearly so she had leaned forward. Eavesdropping. What were they saying to each other?
“Well, well, well,” someone said from the doorway. “Look who’s back with us!”
Lydia snapped out of her memory and looked at the door, confused at first when she saw a young woman walk in, pushing a machine that rolled on wheels. “Who are you?”
With a big smile that exposed her perfectly straight white teeth, the woman stood beside Lydia’s bed. “I’m your nurse. You’re in the hospital, dear,” she said as she patted Lydia’s hand as if to comfort her. “You’re lucky to be alive!”
She wore a multi-colored pastel shirt with a name badge over her breast: Cheryl Walsh. The name was unfamiliar but there was something about her face that made Lydia frown. The nurse mistook it for confusion and pulled the chair closer so she could sit for a minute.
“Do you remember coming here?”
“Nee, I don’t,” Lydia replied. “Where’s my family? My schwesters? Abe?”
Cheryl gently squeezed Lydia’s hand. “They’ll be here soon, I’m sure. There was a tornado. Do you remember that?” Without waiting for Lydia’s reply, the woman continued. “You were rather fortunate. A tree fell on you.”
Another image flashed before Lydia. “I was riding my bike.”
The nurse laughed. “That’s a silly thing to be doing in a tornado!”
“I didn’t know it was coming,” Lydia said. “None of us did.” And then, it hit her. The tornado had been coming from behind. That meant that it passed right over Whoopie Pie Place and the family farm. Leah, Sadie, Jonas, the kinner. “My family! Was anyone hurt? Is everyone else all right?”
“Don’t panic,” Cheryl said softly, glancing down at a buzzing cell phone that hung from a cord around her neck. “As far as I know, no one was injured from your family.”
“And my younger bruder? Tobias Miller?”
Pushing the chair back, Cheryl stood up and turned around, reaching for the machine that she brought with her. “Let’s check your vitals, shall we?” Without another word, she took Lydia’s temperature and blood pressure then, with a quick smile, she hurried from the room to attend her next patient.
For what seemed like a long time, Lydia stared out the window at the blue sky and bright sun. A tornado? Lydia tried to remember what happened. She had ridden her bike home after returning to Whoopie Pie Place for her handbag. But there was something else, something before that. A fight.
Think, think, think, she scolded herself.
Abe’s accusations about faking illnesses. His threat to go to the bishop. That was it.
Clenching her teeth, she fought the sudden wave of anger that welled up inside her chest. How could he have threatened her? What had he truly wanted to prove? Deep down, she knew his complaints were not about her constant ailments but the fact that she bore no children for him. He wanted a boppli and blamed her for not conceiving.
Her eyes opened wide and she caught her breath.
A boppli!
She remembered what she had discussed with Leah before the tornado: Sadie’s pregnancy. What she couldn’t remember was whether or not that was what Leah shared with Jacob and Thomas in the barn. They had been so serious and then Jacob was upset. Understandably so, Lydia reasoned. After all, Sadie’s pregnancy reflected upon the entire family, not just her and Manny.
“Glad to see you’re awake!”
Startled, Lydia jerked her head back toward the door. A man with a graying mustache and white jacket walked into the room, a broad smile on his face as he walked toward the bed. For a split second, Lydia stared at him, shocked that a man was in the room. She lifted her hand to her head and, to her relief, there was a handkerchief covering her hair.
“Dr. Shaw,” he said, reaching out his hand to shake hers. “How’s your head feeling, Lydia?”
She withdrew her hand from his and tucked it under the covers of the bed. “Hurts” was all she said.
“I imagine so!” He laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s what happens when you get hit by a tree in a tornado. One lucky woman, you are!”
“Where’s my family?” She hated the way her voice sounded, weak and timid. She didn’t like being at this hospital, not as a visitor and certainly not as a patient. She felt out of her element and wanted nothing more than to go home.
He glanced at the clock. “I imagine they’ll be arriving shortly. You’ve been here for almost four hours. But,” he turned back to her and smiled. “I’m pleased to report that all of our scans came back and nothing is broken. You did, however, receive a knock on your head. Nothing serious but I imagine there will be a bit of pain and you may even experience some memory loss.”
Memory loss? She frowned.
“We’re going to keep you here overnight, Lydia,” the doctor said.
“What!” She tried to sit up again but the pain in her head forced her to abandon that idea.
“Now calm down,” he said softly. “Just one or two nights to observe you; make certain you’re just fine.”
Shutting her eyes, Lydia tried to block the words that continued to flow from his mouth.
“While I don’t suspect there’s any problem, I am concerned about the possibility of a concussion.” He paused. “Any blow to the head is dangerous, but you were unconscious for a while. We need to rule out swelling of the brain. Just as a precaution.”
“Swelling of the brain?” Lydia asked.
“I’m sure you are fine. Just a precaution to make sure. Now, can I have the nurse get you anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Dr. Shaw asked as he moved toward the door.
“Nee. I’m fine,” she mumbled. “I’d just like to see my family.”
“I’ll have the nurse bring them in as soon as they arrive. For now, you need to rest.” And at that, Dr. Shaw left the room.
It was only ten minutes after the doctor left when Leah and Jacob walked through the door. Lydia glanced over their shoulders, expecting to see Abe behind them. When she noticed that they were alone, she realized that she felt a wave of disappointment. Where was her husband?
“Lydia! You had us all worried half to death!” Leah said as she rushed toward the bed. “Are you feeling all right? How’s your head?”
“Hurts,” she mumbled in response. Her eyes searched behind them as if expecting someone else to walk through the door. When she realized that no one else accompanied Leah and Jacob, she returned her attention to her sister. “Where’s Abe?”
Jacob stepped forward and touched her arm. “Tree fell on your house, Lydia. No one’s injured, but there’s a crew there, working on it.”
None of this made sense to Lydia. “My house?”
“It’s right gut you weren’t at home,” Leah said. “Smashed in the roof, apparently.”
“Abe? Is he hurt?”
“Nee, nee!” Leah reassured her. “We’re luckier than most. A little further north, an entire neighborhood of Englische lost everything. But, thank the good Lord, no one is reported missing.”
Lydia shut her eyes and groaned. “How bad is the damage?” If Abe hadn’t come to visit her, she knew it must have been extensive.
“Thomas went over,” Leah a
nswered. “Said there was a hole in the upstairs bedroom.”
Lydia’s eyes opened and she stared at her sister. A hole upstairs? That didn’t sound like a lot of damage. She frowned, wondering why Abe would have chosen to stay home and tend to that instead of coming to ensure that she was all right.
And then she remembered. The fight. His words. The bishop. The threat. He wasn’t there at the hospital, not because of a tree branch that fell on the house, but because he was angry. Angry with her. He didn’t believe her complaints about fatigue and headaches. He thought she faked her illnesses. The irony was not lost on her. Here she was, laying in a hospital bed with doctors concerned that she suffered from a concussion, and her husband refused to visit her. Instead, he hid at home, tending to a ‘hole’ in the roof, using the tornado as an excuse.
“I’m sure he’ll be here tomorrow,” Leah said as a way to offer comfort to her sister.
Lydia lifted an eyebrow but didn’t respond. Instead, she rolled her head on the pillow and looked out the window. She rested her eyes on the clouds, noticing the blueness of the sky. A few clouds drifted behind some trees. The green leaves shimmied in a soft breeze, reflecting the sunlight. The beauty of nature contrasted sharply with the ugliness from earlier that day. It was an ugliness that she still felt inside of her chest at the realization that Abe’s lack of compassion for her injuries indicated his willingness to abandon her. Had she lost him for good?
Jacob cleared his throat and glanced at the clock on the wall. He seemed anxious, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Ach vell,” he mumbled, glancing at Leah. They exchanged a look that Lydia could not interpret. “Mayhaps I might just go check in on Tobias while we’re here.”
Lydia watched as the muscles in Leah’s jaw tightened. There was a tension between them, something that Lydia couldn’t put her finger on. A secret, no doubt. Yet, deep inside, she suspected that it had nothing to do with Sadie. She also suspected that she should remember what caused the tension. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t remember.
“We only have twenty minutes,” Leah said tersely to Jacob. “Don’t dawdle none!”
Once he had left the room, Lydia couldn’t help herself but comment, “Don’t understand why Jacob’s here. Never been one to be all mushy over stuff like this.” She tried to read Leah’s reaction. “And he never did get on well with Tobias! Why, this is just downright strange!” No response. “Are you certain he didn’t get hit by a tree?”
Once again, the muscles in Leah’s jaw twitched. This time, however, she ignored what Lydia said. Instead, she turned her attention to Lydia, fussing over her by smoothing down the thin, white blanket and patting Lydia’s hand. “Now, you rest up,” Leah began. “I saw the doctor just before and they said you’re going to be fine. They’ll be keeping an eye on you overnight, just to make certain you didn’t do more than just bonk your head.” She smiled at Lydia. “Should I fetch you some water? I saw a small kitchen down the hallway.”
Lydia shook her head. She wasn’t thirsty. Instead, she reached out for Leah’s hand. Her eyes studied Leah’s face, looking for an indication of what was not being said. “How bad was that tornado?”
Leah paused, just for a split second. Lydia tried to read her sister’s reaction, tried to see the truth in her eyes. But Leah had always been a good one at hiding her emotions. Only this time, she couldn’t. The hesitation told Lydia all that she needed to know. Something was amiss. Unfortunately, Lydia knew that, while she wasn’t one to sugarcoat the truth, Leah also wasn’t one to cause needless worry in others. Lydia could tell that Leah weighed her words carefully, trying to determine how much information to share with her.
“It’s not good, Lydia,” she finally admitted. “Not good at all.” She sighed and paced the floor, rubbing her hands together. “The store is demolished; our house and Jacob’s are both in bad shape. Nothing we can’t fix, peripheral damage for the most, but that storm sure left a mess. And there was damage to the far side of the barn. It got hit as the storm passed through before it damaged some of the crops.”
Lifting her hand to cover her mouth, Lydia fought the urge to interrupt her.
“Now I didn’t see your house,” Leah said softly. “Merv and Susie were the ones that went to tell Abe. And the only reason I know anything about the damage to your house at all is that Thomas went over to check on Abe when he could get through the back roads. That big tree that fell on you is still blocking the main road.”
“Oh help! The store’s gone?”
Leah nodded her head. “That’s right.”
She lifted her hand to rub her forehead. “I don’t remember any of the storm.”
“Mayhaps that’s better,” Leah said, smiling gently at her sister. “Although I sure would like to know what you were doing out in the storm anyway. Do you remember that?”
If only she did! Lydia tried, once again, to think back to that image of Leah standing with Thomas and Jacob. They looked distressed while they discussed something, something that made Jacob upset. Were they talking about Sadie or something else?
“I rode my bicycle back to fetch my handbag,” Lydia said. Then, averting her eyes, she lied. She didn’t want to admit that she had eavesdropped on their conversation, even if she couldn’t recall what she heard. “Don’t remember much else.”
“We just need to say an extra prayer tonight. Thank the good Lord that He protected you,” Leah said, glancing over her shoulder at the clock. Lydia could sense Leah’s anxiety. It was as strong as Jacob’s had been. “Now, I best go check on Tobias and get back home. An awful lot of cleanup to do. Besides, you need to rest now.”
Long after Leah disappeared out the door, Lydia stared after her. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. If only she could remember that conversation from the barn, she thought. Then she would have the answers to Jacob’s strange behavior and Leah’s unusually tense mood.
Sadie
The sun set low over the horizon, the colors in the sky changing rapidly from oranges and reds to purples and blues. With no clouds overheard, the stars coming out twinkled like tiny fireflies in a vast field. The only other light came from the battery-operated lantern beside her. It cast a small orange glow on the porch, illuminating the pile of children’s boots by the door.
Sadie sat on the edge of the porch, a glass of meadow tea in her hand. Her body felt weak, bone tired. Still, she knew it would be useless to try to sleep right now. Without the activity of the day, her mind raced back to the news that the doctor shared with her.
“You all right out here?” Leah asked as she pushed open the screen door that Thomas fixed while they visited the hospital earlier that evening.
Sadie nodded her head unconvincingly.
Sitting next to her, Leah took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “Sure is ironic, ain’t so? Such a beautiful night after such an ugly day!”
“Like God’s rainbow to Noah’s flood,” Sadie whispered. “A promise, I reckon.”
For a few minutes, they sat in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Sadie wondered what Leah was thinking before she got lost in her own mind. Breast cancer. What lie ahead for her? The different options scared her: lumpectomy, partial mastectomy, bilateral? Would she have to subject her body to chemotherapy and radiation? Would her hair fall out? Would she live?
The thoughts rushed through her, a whirlwind of confusion. She hadn’t the time to consider the news earlier. In a way, she knew that being busy kept her preoccupied. Then the news about Lydia sent everyone into a tailspin. There had been no time to think about her own problems. Now, with the still of night surrounding her, it was the only thing on her mind.
“Sadie,” Leah said softly, interrupting her thoughts. “Mayhaps it’s time we had a talk.”
A talk? Sadie’s heart jumped within her chest. She wanted to talk. Oh how much she wanted to talk! Earlier that day, she wished more than anything that she had confided in Leah. It would have done her a world of good to have Leah’s st
rength beside her when the doctor had confirmed what Sadie suspected for weeks.
“Ja,” Sadie whispered with a somber look on her face.
She heard Leah clear her throat and shift her weight. Clearly she was uncomfortable with whatever she had on her mind. Sadie just wished that the words “I have breast cancer” would pop out of her mouth, just blurt it to Leah and be done with the bad news.
Sharing the news would give her strength. Still, Sadie felt guilt in doing so. Leah’s problems were broad and deep, encompassing everyone in the family, not just herself.
“Sadie,” Leah began slowly, as if carefully selecting her words. “We’ve had quite a day, ain’t so? One that I hope is never repeated. God was good to us. He spared our schwester and, for that, I can only thank Him over and over again.”
Sadie remained silent, staring thoughtfully at her older sister.
“But Lydia shared something with me,” Leah continued. “Something about you and your sickness.”
For a split second, Sadie repeated Leah’s words in her head. That had not been what she expected to hear. What direction was this conversation going? And then, it dawned on her. Her heart palpitated and her palms grew sweaty. Was it possible? “Lydia knows?”
Leah nodded her head slowly, a sorrowful look on her face.
“How? How does Lydia know?” Sadie asked.
“I don’t know. She didn’t share that with me,” Leah said.
Sadie opened her mouth, ready to tell Leah everything: about the lump, about the doctors, about the dreadful decision that she had to make. But a loud noise interrupted them. Without the windows in the house, every noise carried outside, amplified by the still night air.
So when a pot clattered on the floor of Jacob and Esther’s house followed by a loud scream, both Leah and Sadie jumped to their feet and raced toward their front door, not bothering to knock as they flung it open and hurried into the kitchen.