by Amy Clipston
“A boy and a girl,” Mamm cooed while holding Sarah’s son. “They are just precious, Sarah Rose, just precious.”
“I’m so blessed,” Sarah whispered. Her heart had been bursting with love and joy ever since she’d laid her eyes on her twins. “I had no idea being a mamm would be like this. There’s no joy like it.” She glanced over at Mamm and wiped a tear. “Danki.”
Mamm chuckled. “Why are you thanking me? You’re the one who delivered them.”
“No.” She held her free hand out, and Mamm leaned over the hospital bed and took it. “Danki for being here. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You’re welcome, Sarah Rose.” Mamm squeezed her hand and then pulled back, staring down at her new grandson.
Sarah studied her daughter. The baby’s chubby, pink face was accented with bright eyes. Her bald head was shielded by a pink stocking hat, and her little body was covered in a white blanket trimmed in pink and blue. “I’ve decided on names.”
“Oh?”
“Rachel Elizabeth and Seth Peter.” When Mamm didn’t answer, she glanced over to find her wiping her eyes. “Mamm?”
“Danki,” her mother whispered. “I’m very touched.”
Sarah looked down at her daughter just in time to see her yawn. Her little mouth opened wide, revealing bright pink gums and a matching little tongue. Sarah grinned.
If only Peter were here to see his beautiful twins.
No, she would not be sad now. He was in her heart and in the eyes of her babies.
Rachel fell asleep, and Sarah ran her finger over the baby’s head. While she watched her daughter sleep, she opened her heart to God, silently thanking him for her two wonderful miracles, her children.
For the first time since Peter’s death, she felt true happiness.
Turning to Mamm, Sarah found her humming softly to Seth, who slept in her arms. Mamm met her gaze and smiled.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Sarah stared down at her baby girl, thinking of Peter. He would’ve been elated.
“Merry Christmas, Peter,” she whispered. “I wish you were here to hold your babies. They are a gift from God, the perfect Christmas gift to fill my heart.”
“Ya,” Mamm whispered, her voice trembling as she wiped again at her eyes.
A knock sounded from the door.
“Come in,” Sarah called.
The door squeaked open, and a knot of Sarah’s sisters and nieces paraded through into her room, oooing and ahhing with love. The littlest nieces pushed forward and stood on tiptoes to view the new babies.
Sarah smiled, scanning the crowd and finding her brothers standing near the door. She searched the sea of faces and a twinge of disappointment hit her when she didn’t find Luke there.
Kathryn appeared from the crowd, her arms extended, and her face expectant. “May I?”
“Of course.” Sarah handed over Rachel and sighed.
“Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, little one,” Kathryn cooed, rocking her niece to her chest.
Luke paced outside Sarah’s hospital room, gripping the brim of his hat. Laughter and voices rang through the door. Although he knew most of her family members were there celebrating the birth of the twins, he felt like an intruder. Or perhaps he felt more like a fraud, since he was posing as a cousin to the children when he was really an uncle. However, he was so kneedeep into the falsehood that there was no turning back for fear of being ostracized.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t a lie. He’d never said he was a cousin; the family had assumed it. Just the same, he hadn’t corrected them either…which made him a liar.
Taking a deep breath, he marched to the door and knocked. Receiving no response, he pushed the door open to find a crowd of Kauffmans surrounding Sarah, who was propped up in the bed, smiling and laughing with her family.
She looked breathtakingly beautiful dressed in a blue hospital gown with her golden blonde hair hidden under her prayer kapp. He couldn’t help but wonder if his brother had ever spent time staring at her and contemplating how something so perfect existed in nature. God had blessed Eli and Elizabeth when He created their youngest daughter.
Her eyes met his and lit up as if her heart swelled with joy. His smile broadened at the thought that he could bring her such happiness.
“Luke.” She extended her hand in his direction. “I’m so glad you came. I was hoping you’d heard the news.” She beckoned him over.
He weaved through the knot of visitors and stood next to her. “You didn’t think I’d come?” He wished he’d brought her something—a bouquet of flowers or a small gift. However, the gift he had waiting for her at home would be special enough.
“I was afraid no one told you.” She started to adjust herself in the bed and then winced in pain.
“Are you okay?” He reached for her hand but stopped himself from touching her.
“Ya.” She forced a smile. “I’m a bit sore.”
Elizabeth leaned over her daughter. “You want me to call the nurse for more medicine?”
Sarah shook her head and waved her mother off. “I’m fine. It passed.” She then faced Luke. “Have you seen them? Aren’t they exquisite?”
Luke nodded, staring at the baby in Beth Anne’s arms.
“That’s Seth Peter.” Sarah beamed. “Doesn’t he look like Peter? It’s uncanny. His eyes are the same shade of hazel.” She pointed to the baby in Kathryn’s arms. “Rachel Elizabeth has blue eyes, like me.”
Luke studied his nephew, and warmth washed over him. His eyes filled with tears as he was overwhelmed with a mixture of love and grief for his brother. He fought the urge to flee the room in order to deal with the confusing emotions in private.
A gentle hand encircled his arm.
“Luke? Are you okay?” Sarah asked.
The concern and affection in her eyes caused the emotions within him to churn. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, hoping to stop the tears.
“I’m fine. It’s just warm in here.” He hoped he sounded convincing.
Beth Anne angled the baby boy toward Luke. “Would you like to hold him?”
“No,” Luke said, shaking his head in protest. “I don’t want to—”
“You won’t hurt him,” Sarah said with a chuckle. “Bopplin are resilient.”
“I couldn’t,” he said. “I don’t know the first thing about them.”
“Don’t be silly.” Sarah hoisted herself up from the bed, wincing slightly as she moved toward him.
His eyes raked over her, taking in how tiny she was.
She lifted the baby from her sister’s arms and held him close to Luke. “Seth, meet your onkel Luke.”
His eyes snapped to hers at the word uncle. Did she sense the truth? Did she know who he was?
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her pretty face flushed a bright crimson. “It’s just automatic for me to say onkel since I have three brothers.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice quavering. He cleared his throat, but emotion ruled his words. “They can call me onkel.”
“I think the zwillingbopplin would be happy if you were their onkel Luke.” Her smile was bright, and he feared he might shed a tear or two after all. She held Seth out to him, her arm resting against his, mixing their body heat. “Would you like to hold him?”
“I don’t think I could,” he whispered.
“It’s not so hard, Luke,” Daniel chimed in. “I’ve held my nieces and nephews plenty.”
“It’s good practice,” Rebecca said with a grin.
“Just don’t drop ’im,” Timothy added, and the crowd laughed in response.
Luke succumbed to the request and took the tiny child in his arms. His heart felt as if it would overflow with love as his brother’s tiny offspring opened his hazel eyes, yawned, and fell asleep again.
Lowering himself into the chair next to the bed, Luke held the baby. The rest of the world disappeared, and he was alone with the boy who would never know his father.
At th
at moment, Luke silently vowed to help raise his niece and nephew, in honor of his brother, whom he missed more than words could express. He was going to stay with the twins in Bird-in-Hand. There was no doubt in his mind or his heart; this was where he belonged.
14
Glad to be home from the hospital, Sarah climbed the stairs, taking each with care due to her lingering aches and pains. She followed Mamm toward her room.
The twins’ cries echoed from downstairs where her sisters tended to them. She stopped and started toward the stairs.
“Sarah Rose!” Mamm chided. “Your sisters can handle the kinner. You need to get some rest.”
“But they’re crying…” Sarah bit her lip.
Mamm gave a knowing smile. “Babies cry, mei Liewe. They will be fine. You need your rest. You just gave birth three days ago.”
Sighing, Sarah hobbled to her room. Stepping in, she glanced around at the familiarity of the room that had become hers since Peter died and she moved out of her house. She stopped in her tracks when something out of place caught her eye.
On the floor next to the cradle her father had made was the most exquisite cradle she’d ever seen. It was simple yet elegant, with a pattern engraved in the sides. It was stained a deep cherry color and sparkled in the low light of the lamp. A large red bow hung over the side.
Sarah gasped and crossed the room. She bent and touched it, and it rocked back and forth, scraping the wooden floor with a quiet whooshing sound.
“You kept your promise, Luke,” she whispered, running her finger over the slick wood and sniffing back tears. “Danki.”
“It’s your Christmas gift from Luke,” Mamm said. “Actually, he said it was for you and the zwillingbopplin. He had intended to give it to you himself on Christmas, but the kinner had other plans. Since he’s at work today, he asked Dat to give it to you for him.”
“It’s perfect,” Sarah said, meeting Mamm’s gaze. “How wunderbaar.”
“I think he loves those kinner, you know.” Mamm dropped Sarah’s bag onto a chair by the bed. “He said he’d come by to visit when you were ready to have company.”
“He can come any time.” Sarah crossed to the bed and lowered herself onto the side.
“You get some rest. The babies will be fine with your sisters and me.”
Sarah nodded. “Okay.”
“Call me if you need anything.” Mamm disappeared through the door, gently closing it behind her.
Rolling onto her side on the bed, Sarah closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Peter, the babies, cradles…and Luke.
Sarah yawned as she lounged on the sofa with Rachel in her arms. She hadn’t achieved much rest last night since the babies had their days and nights mixed up. Although Mamm had helped with the middle-of-the-night feedings, Sarah still found herself awake most of the night.
Sarah was thankful to have Mamm’s help during the night. And since the bakery was only open part-time during the winter, she was also grateful to have Mamm home to help along with her nieces most days.
It was hard to believe she’d been home a week with the twins. She’d expected to have a house full of visitors; however, only her sisters and a few of her friends from the church district had stopped by and brought food and gifts for the children.
If Sarah were honest with herself, she’d admit she was disappointed one guest in particular hadn’t stopped by at all, and that guest was Luke. She’d asked Timothy if he’d seen Luke, and her brother had explained Luke hadn’t missed a day of work.
While she was rocking Rachel back to sleep early this morning, she’d pondered the question of why Luke had been staying away. She couldn’t get the image of Luke at the hospital out of her mind—the way his brown eyes had filled with tears when he saw the children touched her deep in her soul. She wondered if his absence had anything to do with the emotion he’d displayed then. Was seeing the twins too difficult for him because they reminded him of his beloved cousin?
She hoped Luke wouldn’t stay away. For some reason she craved Luke’s presence even more now that the children were here. Was it because he was her only connection to Peter beyond the twins? Or did she miss his friendship? Her gut told her it was a combination of both. Sarah felt a connection to Luke that was unlike any other friendship she cherished.
A flurry of activity and a chorus of children’s voices sounded from the kitchen, announcing the arrival of visitors.
Mamm entered the living room with a smile on her face. “You have a visitor. Or rather, you have visitors.”
“Send them in.” Sarah adjusted a sleeping Rachel on her shoulder and then ran her hand over her prayer Kapp to make sure she was presentable. She felt silly for fussing over her appearance. After all, she was a sleep-deprived woman who’d given birth less than two weeks ago.
She hoped Luke was among the visitors, but a quick glance at the clock on the mantle showed it was shortly after four and too early for Luke to arrive on a weekday.
Mamm disappeared into the kitchen and a few moments later, Norman appeared in the doorway followed by his daughters.
“Norman.” Sarah smiled. “It’s so good to see you.”
He glanced down at Seth sleeping in the cradle and then back at Sarah, who turned slightly, angling Rachel toward them.
Norman smiled at the babies. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Congratulations. God is good.”
“Ya,” Sarah said, rubbing Rachel’s back. “He is.”
The girls stood over the cradle and cooed at the babies.
“Why don’t you two go back in the kitchen and have cookies with Nancy and Katie?” Norman asked. “Sarah and I are going to visit, and the babies are sleeping.”
The girls retreated to the kitchen.
“Please have a seat.” She gestured toward the chair with her free hand.
“Danki.” Norman folded his stocky body into the sofa across from her. “How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted but happy.” She covered her mouth to shield a yawn. She then adjusted Rachel on her shoulder, which had started to ache.
“Are they sleeping well in the night?” he asked.
Sarah snorted with sarcasm. “No, not yet. Mamm says I slept through the night at three months. I’m hoping these two figure out their nights and days faster than that. If not, then I may pass out soon from exhaustion.”
Norman’s eyes trained on Seth, and a smile broke through his pleasant countenance. “How does it feel to be a mamm?”
“It’s more wunderbaar than I ever imagined.” She ran a finger over Rachel’s soft cheek. “I stare down at my kinner and can’t believe they’re mine.”
“Blessings from God,” he whispered.
“Absolutely.” She shifted to the edge of the chair and gently placed Rachel into the cradle next to Seth. Sitting back in the chair, she sighed and rubbed her shoulder. “Little ones weigh more than you think.” Norman smiled.
They fell into an easy conversation, discussing everything from the weather to the children.
After an hour, he stood. “I reckon I should get back home and feed my own kinner before they start grumbling.”
Sarah walked with him to the kitchen. “I can whip up something to feed all of us.”
“No, no.” He touched her arm. “I wouldn’t want to do that to you. You have your hands full.”
“Don’t be silly.” She glanced at Mamm, who was sitting at the table talking with Dat and the children. “Do we have something we can throw together for supper for everyone?”
Mamm stood and went to the refrigerator. “Of course we do. Let me see. I can make this stew quickly. It’s plenty for everyone.”
“No, I couldn’t impose.” Norman snatched his coat from the rack by the door and glanced at his daughters. “Get your wraps on. We’re heading back home.”
“Norman, don’t be silly.” Sarah touched his arm. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks. I’d be happy if you and the girls stayed.”
“Another night. I
promise.” He glanced at his girls, who were ready at the door. “Say good-bye to everyone. We’ll see them very soon.” He said his farewells to her parents and then steered his girls out the door.
Sarah followed close behind, hugging her arms to her chest as the January wind sliced through her caped dress. She inhaled the chilly air, breathing in the aroma of wood fireplaces.
Norman directed his girls to the waiting buggy and then turned to Sarah. “You best get inside before you catch a cold.”
“Danki for visiting,” she said through her chattering teeth.
“We’ll have dinner together very soon,” Norman said, his expression flickering with an intensity she’d never seen before. “I’d like to see you more often.”
Unsure of the meaning behind his words, Sarah was rendered speechless for a moment.
“Gut nacht.” He paused for a moment and then touched her arm. “Take care of those wunderbaar zwillingbopplin.”
Norman clattered down the porch steps and loaded the girls into the buggy. Sarah waved as they drove off toward the road.
The crunch of stones drew her gaze toward the path. Spotting Luke heading for the porch, she rushed down the stairs toward him.
“Why don’t you have a coat on, Sarah Rose?” he scolded, shaking his head in disapproval.
She stopped in her tracks and scowled. “And it’s nice to see you too.”
He gave a bark of laughter, and she grinned.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Angry with you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Why haven’t you been by to see me and the zwillingbopplin?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I feared you’d moved back to Ohio without any notice.”
His smile disappeared. “You think I’d leave without telling you?”
She shivered.
He nodded toward the house. “How about we take this disagreement inside?”
They climbed the porch steps side by side.
“Did you hear the news?” she asked. “Daniel is a father. Rebecca gave birth to their son, Daniel Jr., last night.”