by Beth Wiseman
“I just want to protect my daughter. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” Mary Ellen felt her own eyes watering, but she was not about to let herself cry. “We are going to have to tell Linda about your—your condition at some point. But today is not that day. She has been through enough for one day.”
Josephine sniffled. “I agree.” She stood up. “I’m going to go get cleaned up. You can go downstairs if you want. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“I’ll wait for you.” Mary Ellen met Josephine’s eyes. “In case— in case you need help or feel ill.”
“Thank you.”
Mary Ellen glanced around the room after Josephine went to the bathroom to change. So many things. So many things she has exposed young Linda to. Mary Ellen shook her head. Then she just waited. Wondering. Worrying.
“Okay.” Josephine came out of the bathroom wearing a fresh pair of blue jeans and a pink pullover shirt. She stopped in the middle of the room. “I guess I better go see when my husband will be home.” But she didn’t move, and instead started to tear up again. “I hate this. I just hate it. I hate all of it. If there is a God, He wouldn’t let all this happen!” Then she dropped to her knees right there in her bedroom, as if she could no longer carry the weight of her situation. Mary Ellen put her hands on her chest and wondered if she’d heard correctly.
She walked to Josephine, who was sitting on her heels, covering her face with her hands. “I have no hope, Mary Ellen. Do you know what it’s like to face death with no hope?”
Mary Ellen dropped down beside her. “Josephine, what are you saying?”
Josephine uncovered her face and brushed away tears with only her left hand. Mary Ellen could see her right hand twitching in her lap. “You heard me, Mary Ellen. You can add that to your list of reasons to hate me.”
“That’s not fair, Josephine. I never said I hated you.” Mary Ellen took a deep breath. “These are hard times for all of us, but I never said—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She lifted her head, then stood up, sniffling, struggling to gain control of her emotions. “I miss my husband very much. Let’s go downstairs. I want to know when he’ll be home.”
Mary Ellen followed Josephine downstairs. How could anyone face death and make such comments? It was the saddest thing she’d ever heard.
When they got downstairs, Linda was scooping up the last of the broken glass and Mary Ellen heard Noah telling Linda how he knew Josie, that he was friends with Josie’s husband.
Noah walked toward Josephine. “Josie, there’re more problems in China. Robert is fine, though.”
“What? Did something else happen? More attacks? Robert said he was far away from everything.”
Mary Ellen was thinking that this woman really couldn’t take any more today.
“No, nothing else happened, but the airports are closed indefinitely for those who aren’t citizens, those traveling with a passport.”
“What?” Josephine looked like she might collapse again. Mary Ellen stepped toward her but stopped when Linda rushed to Josephine’s side.
She watched her daughter—their daughter—put her arm around Josephine. “It’s all right. We’ll figure something out. I’ll stay here with you.”
Mary Ellen’s eyes welled with emotion at the nurturing kindness in Linda’s voice. And she knew right away what she needed to do.
She raised her chin, folded her hands in front of her, and spoke directly to Noah. “Josephine will come and stay with us. In our home.” She swallowed hard, then glanced at Linda. A smile spread across her daughter’s face. Josephine, however, was staring at Mary Ellen as if she’d lost her mind.
“Mary Ellen, I don’t know if . . .” Noah’s brows furrowed as he spoke. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Absolutely not,” Josephine interjected.
“Why?” Linda was quick to ask. Mary Ellen watched her daughter gaze at Josephine with eyes that begged her to reconsider. “You can stay in my room. I have two beds. It would still be like a sleepover, but at my house.”
“She’s right.” Mary Ellen moved toward them. “It makes the most sense. Until Josephine’s husband gets home, she should stay with us. She can still . . .” Mary Ellen looked down for a brief moment, then faced Josephine. “You can still get to know Linda, and there will be several of us around so that you are not alone, just in case this should happen again.”
“Mary Ellen, can I talk to you outside?” Noah’s voice was firm, but Mary Ellen didn’t care. She knew that this was the right thing to do for all concerned.
“Of course. We can talk outside while Linda helps Josephine pack a few things.”
Josephine moved away from Linda, walked toward Mary Ellen, and faced her. Mary Ellen couldn’t tell if she was angry, relieved, or a combination of some other emotions that Mary Ellen wasn’t familiar with.
“Mary Ellen, I appreciate the offer, but I—”
“Do you have a better one? Offer, that is,” Mary Ellen asked in a challenging tone.
Josephine just stared at her. Speechless.
“Scoot. Both of you. Go pack while I go talk to Noah.” She turned around. “Noah, let’s talk.” She marched out of the kitchen and into the living room. Or den. Or family room. Or whatever this oversized room filled with unnecessary items was.
“What is it, Noah?” Mary Ellen folded her hands across her chest.
“You have no idea what you are getting into.” Noah shook his head. “It’s noble what you’re trying to do, Mary Ellen, but if Josie is starting to have seizures, she is going to start going down quickly. Are you really prepared to take care of her? What if it’s weeks before her husband can get back?” Noah leaned closer and whispered. “Not to mention, that no one in this charade has told Linda that Josie is going to die.”
“The Lord will guide us, Noah. And I believe this to be His will.”
Noah put his hand on his hip, then ran a hand through his wavy dark hair.
“You need a haircut.” Mary Ellen smiled at her brother.
“Seriously, Mary Ellen. This could be a huge undertaking if her husband doesn’t come back soon. I will give you some literature that explains all about seizures and what to do if she has another one, but the best thing to do would be to call 9-1-1 if Josie begins to exhibit any symptoms that another seizure is forthcoming.” Noah shook his head and sighed. “This is too much for you, Mary Ellen. Maybe after a day or two with you, you can convince her to call her mother. I understand from her husband that they don’t have a relationship. He told me once that her parents forced her to give up Linda for adoption, and she never forgave them. But who knows . . . there might be more to it than that. At this time in her life, I would think that she needs her family.”
“Linda is her family, and in that respect, I reckon I will have to be her stand-in family.”
Noah leaned over and hugged her. “You’re a gut woman, Mary Ellen.”
“Ach, I see you still speaka the Deitsch sometimes,” she teased.
“Ya. I do.”
She stayed in Noah’s arms, his words lingering in her head . . . You’re a gut woman. She hadn’t felt like a very good woman lately. And maybe inviting Josephine to stay at their home was a mistake. But one thing bothered Mary Ellen far more than her own troubles.
If there is a God, He wouldn’t let all this happen. I have no hope, Mary Ellen.Do you know what it’s like to face death with no hope?
Josie loaded clothes into a red suitcase while Linda sat on the bed and waited.
“What do you think your father will say about me coming to stay?”
Linda stretched her arms behind her and leaned back. “I reckon it’ll be just fine with him.” She nodded her head with confidence and smiled.
Josie smiled back at her, even though she wasn’t convinced. “I’m surprised that your mother asked me to come stay. But it’s very kind of her.”
“Mamm is wonderful. You’ll love her cooking too.”
Josie looked down at her su
itcase. “I think that’s probably all I’ll need.” She zipped it closed, then sat down on the bed beside Linda, away from the splattered sauce. She put her hand on Linda’s knee. “I’m sorry about today. We didn’t get to eat lasagna, and I didn’t get to hear about your day with Stephen at the creek.” Linda smiled again. “We’ll have lots of time to talk since you’ll be staying in my room.”
“Sure that’s okay with you?”
“I’m sure. It’ll be fun.” She giggled. “You don’t snore or anything, do you?”
Josie chuckled lightly. “Robert says I do sometimes.” Then she thought about Robert being so far away, near all the chaos. “I hope he’s all right.”
“We will say special prayers for him. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Linda paused. “Josie, there’s something I want to ask you.”
Josie pulled her hand from Linda’s knee, smoothed wrinkles from her pink shirt, and twisted to face her. “What’s that?”
Linda locked eyes with Josie. “Tell me what’s really wrong with you. I want to know the truth.”
17
JOSIE PULLED HERSELF TO A STANDING POSITION, BUT kept her back to Linda. She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment and pondered how to avoid a lie and still stay true to Mary Ellen’s wishes.
“I have really bad headaches that cause me to lose control of my motor functions, and sometimes I have seizures.” Josie turned to face Linda and shrugged. “And that’s the truth. Sometimes I feel really bad. Other days are good.”
Linda’s accusing gaze burned through Josie, and she wondered just how mad Linda was going to be when she became privy to the entire truth, not just bits and pieces of the truth. She didn’t want Linda to look at her the way Robert did sometimes, with pity in his eyes.
“What causes these headaches?” Linda stood up and folded her arms across her chest. Then she slammed them to her side and stomped one foot. “Please, Josie. I know you’re all not telling me something, and I’m not a child!”
Josie jumped, caught off guard by Linda’s display. “I know you’re not a child. I never said—”
“Then tell me!” Linda took a step toward her. “Just tell me what’s wrong with you.”
Josie turned her head toward the bedroom door as it swung open.
“What’s all this yelling in here?” Mary Ellen’s lips thinned with irritation as she shifted her gaze back and forth between Josie and Linda, finally centering on Linda. “What are you yelling about?”
Linda lowered her head, then looked back up at Mary Ellen. “I know there is something else wrong with Josie. Something she’s not telling me. Do you know too, Mamm? Is there something you’re all not telling me?”
Mary Ellen’s face clouded with unease. She glanced at Josie, then back at Linda. “Why do you ask such a thing, Linda?”
“I can just tell, Mamm. By the way you are all behaving. Even Onkel Noah. And I am old enough to know what’s going on.”
Mary Ellen moved across the room until she was right in front of Linda. “Everything will be fine.” She reached out to touch Linda’s arm, but Linda backed away as she gritted her teeth and released a heavy breath through her nose.
“Linda.” Mary Ellen’s voice was disciplinary. Josie got the impression that this was not Linda’s normal behavior. “Why are you acting in such a manner?”
“Because you are not telling me the truth!”
“Hey, hey.” Noah walked into the room. “What’s going on?”
Linda ran to her uncle and threw her arms around him. “Onkel Noah, please tell me the truth. Everyone is treating me like a child. There’s something wrong with Josie, and you all aren’t telling me.”
Noah eased her away, cupped her cheek in his hand, and stared lovingly into her eyes. Then his eyes locked with Josie’s. “Tell her.”
Mary Ellen took a step toward him. “But Noah, I don’t think this is—”
Noah silenced her with narrowed eyes. “There is never going to be a good time, Mary Ellen.”
“Tell me what?” Linda ripped out the words as she faced her mother, then shifted her angry gaze to Josie. “Tell me what, Josie?”
Josie was frozen in limbo, in a place where no good would come from whatever response she offered. A war of emotions raged within her, but she knew the time of reckoning was upon them, so she tried to mask her inner turmoil with a deceptive calmness. “Linda, what we’ve told you is true. We just didn’t tell you everything, because I wanted time for you to get to know me. Time for me to get to know you.” She searched Mary Ellen’s eyes for guidance, but Mary Ellen was biting her lip, holding her breath. “Linda, I have a brain tumor. A tumor that they can’t operate on or take out, and . . .” She searched for the words as her bottom lip began to tremble. “I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean, sorry?” Linda choked out the words in a small voice.
Josie knew that a good mother would keep her raw emotions in check, keep in tempo with what needed to be said, but the words caught in her throat. “I’m—I’m dying, Linda.”
A black silence surrounded them as they waited for Linda to react, and then Josie saw Linda’s mouth begin to move, but she couldn’t grasp what she was saying. Josie could feel the color draining from her face as tiny bolts of light shimmied in front her, purple rods of warning, a sign that another seizure was forthcoming. I’ve never had two in one day.
She could see Linda moving toward her through eyes she was struggling to keep open, and the tip of her tongue edged toward the roof of her mouth as if magnetized by something out of her control.
“She’s having another seizure,” Noah said.
It was the last thing Josie heard.
When Josie opened her eyes, it took her a few minutes to figure out where she was, then she hazily remembered Noah carrying her to his car. She blinked her eyes into focus to find a room full of people hovering around her, and she scanned the rustic room until she saw Linda. Josie could tell Linda had been crying, and she longed to ease her suffering.
“How are you feeling?” Mary Ellen was standing at the foot of the bed. To her left were Noah and Linda. A man she didn’t know and two teenage boys were standing to her right.
“Tired.” She reached up and touched the side of her head, then pulled back when pain speared through her temple.
“You fell before we could get to you.” Noah sighed. “You’ve got a pretty good knot on your head, but luckily the floor was carpeted.”
“Josephine, I’d like you to meet my family.” Mary Ellen walked to the older man’s side. “This is my husband, Abe. And these are our two boys, Matthew and Luke.”
They each moved forward and shook her hand, then she studied them for a moment. The taller boy, Matthew, was wearing a dark brown shirt, and his brother was wearing a dark blue shirt like their father. They all had on black pants and suspenders and made for a handsome trio.
“Your family is lovely.” Josie forced a smile for each of them, even though her head was splitting. Then she homed in on Linda, and tried to fight the tears building in her eyes as she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Linda shuffled closer to the bed and reached for Josie’s hand. “Danki for telling me.” She smiled. “We are all going to be praying for you constantly.”
“Prayers are being offered across a broad network of prayer groups as we speak.” Noah smiled. “I’ve already called Carley, and she’s put the wheels in motion. Before we even hit the driveway, thousands of people had started praying for you, Josie.”
Josie glanced at Mary Ellen, and for a moment, the women just stared at each other. No words were necessary. Mary Ellen knew her secret. Thankfully, it didn’t appear that Mary Ellen had shared Josie’s lack of faith with the other members of her family. Josie wasn’t sure how Mary Ellen’s husband would feel about having a nonbeliever under their roof. Josie knew how devout the Amish were. If Mary Ellen didn’t want her here, she certainly could have used that as an excuse.
Josie finally pulled her gaze from Mary Ellen’s when the
oldest boy turned to his father and spoke. “Daed, I’m gonna go get the horses put up.”
“You boys go ahead.” Abe nodded at the boys, who seemed anxious to be on their way.
“Josie, I’m going to go,” Noah said. “If you have any problems at all, call me on my cell phone.” Then he eased closer, touched her arm. “These seizures are going to come with more frequency, but I’m going to talk to a neurologist I know and see if we can get you something stronger to help with that. And I’m going to give Mary Ellen some information about what she needs to do if it looks like you might have another one. It’s important that you get lots of rest too.” He paused, his brows wrinkling. “I’m sure plenty of doctors have told you what to expect?”
She nodded and wondered if she should be in the hospital, although she knew that realistically this could drag on for months. This was such an imposition on Linda’s family until Robert returned. She tugged at her pink blouse with her left hand and pulled it away from her body, shaking it. So hot. A tiny fan on the nightstand blew full force in her direction, but it did little to help with the still heat inside the room. Green shades were drawn high above two open windows on the wall to Josie’s right, but no breeze blew through the screens. How can they sleep in this heat?
Josie scanned her surroundings. As Linda had told her, there were two beds in the room. In between the beds was a wooden nightstand with one drawer—a simple but lovely piece of furniture, with a pitcher of water, two glasses, a Bible, and a box of tissue on top. And a lantern. Josie eyed the relic and wondered if she was making a mistake. No electricity. The heat. No television. Sometimes, television was the only thing that kept her mind on something other than her own fate.
An oak dresser was against the wall opposite the beds, another well-crafted piece of furniture. One rocking chair was in the corner, and there were no wall hangings except for a calendar and a small mirror.