by Leslie Gould
“I’d been out in the rain,” I said. “My Kapp and hair were soaked.”
She exhaled. “I know you, Bea. It was more than that. Something happened between you and Don.”
I closed my eyes and fell back on the bed. What could I say? She was both right . . . and wrong.
“And what about Don’s girlfriend?” Hope asked. “If she’s in Lancaster, don’t you think she would have come by today?” When I didn’t answer, Hope continued, “Like I said, Martin’s never mentioned her. Nor has Phillip, as far as I know.” Her head fell back to her pillow. “Martin believes Ben, beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
My voice wavered. “And you believe Martin?”
“Jah, we’re going to get married. Remember?”
“That doesn’t mean you have to believe everything he believes.” I shivered. “Hope, I promise you, I haven’t done anything wrong.” My voice shook again. “My reputation is at stake, and even worse”—I took a raggedy breath—“Ben’s love for me.”
“Actually, that’s not at stake anymore,” she said. “He’s crushed. Didn’t you figure that out this afternoon?”
I wanted to wail that he hadn’t heard my side yet, that surely he’d come to understand what really happened, but instead I crawled into my bed, pulling the quilt up to my eyes. Had Don lied to Ben? Or was Ben using all of this as an excuse? Perhaps he’d decided he didn’t want to court me after all and this was his way of breaking up without it appearing to be his fault.
Maybe I’d been “had” again. Tears filled my eyes. The A-N-T-I-C-I-P-A-T-I-O-N that I’d felt, that something good was going to happen, completely left me. Why had God allowed me to love and be loved to only have it end so badly? Even worse than before?
Hope’s breathing shifted. She’d fallen asleep—just like that. I thought I’d finally found a friend—a best friend—only to have her betray me.
I wasn’t going to take my troubles to Nan. She had enough to deal with, and besides, she was old enough that I doubted she’d understand what was going on.
If Cate weren’t on bed rest, I would talk with her about all of it, but I couldn’t burden her now. There was no way I was going to risk adding to her stress.
I was almost relieved a minute later to hear a baby cry. I scrambled out of bed and grabbed my robe from the end of the bed. I was awake anyway. Hopefully, Nan could sleep a little longer.
The next morning was windy and drizzly, but by ten the rain had stopped. It wasn’t exactly sunshine and roses. More like fog and dead leaves as I looked out the living room window, holding Leah in my arms. During the night, she’d come down with whatever Kurt and Asher had. Nan had hardly gotten any sleep, so I was walking Leah around the house now, hoping to give Nan a chance to rest, while Hope tackled the laundry in the basement.
Nan did have one of those bulbs Ben had mentioned. She’d used it on Leah earlier that morning. I hoped I wouldn’t need to use it. Leah had screamed and thrashed around until I had to hold her arms and legs. Poor baby. I had nearly cried along with her.
I stood at the window, my stomach still roiling from my encounter with Don, and from Ben’s reaction. I’d thought I’d feel better by today, but the truth was, I felt worse. I held Leah up against my shoulder to help her breathe better. When I held her on her back she’d coughed and her breathing grew raspier. I’d need to go get the bulb and use it myself if Nan didn’t wake up soon.
Leah began to cough and sputter. I pulled her down so I could see her face. She began to cry along with coughing, causing her face to turn even redder. Her tiny hands curled up alongside her face, and she twisted in my arms.
“I’m so sorry you’re sick,” I said, holding her up a little and swaying with her, back and forth. She continued to cry. “I wish I could tell you that once you’re not a baby anymore life will be easier, but I can’t. You might end up going to school with a boy like Ben. I’m truly sorry if that happens to you.”
She stopped crying and coughed again.
“If that does happen, don’t believe the boy if he ever tells you he cares about you. If he ever acts, even for a day, as if he might love you, run the other way.”
Leah stopped coughing and crying.
I stopped talking, surprised by the silence.
Was she breathing?
“Leah!” I lifted her higher. She seemed to be gagging. I put her to my shoulder and patted her back, but then quickly pulled her back down.
Was she breathing?
I could have rushed up the stairs to Nan, but instead I ran to the kitchen and then down the hall. “Cate!” I yelled as I neared the sunroom.
As I pushed open the door, Cate dropped her book, and it clattered to the floor as she reached out for her sister, who was still silent, her mouth open and her inky blue eyes wide.
Cate swung her legs out of the bed, held the baby face down, supporting Leah’s body with her arm and face with her hand. With the heel of her other hand she hit the back of Leah’s back, alarmingly hard, I thought, for such a tiny thing. After the third hit, Leah began to cry.
Cate turned her around and held her tightly. “There, there,” she said to her little sister. Then to me she said, as calm as could be, “Could you get me a tissue?”
I hurried to her bedside table, just out of her reach, and held the box close to her. She grabbed a tissue and then wadded it up in her hand. “She choked on her own congestion,” she said.
The baby, still in Cate’s arms, was screaming now.
“Go get Nan.”
I nodded and hurried from the room.
After Nan determined Leah was all right, she thanked me. I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “I didn’t know what to do. But Cate did.” I turned toward her. “How did you know?”
She nodded to a stack of books on the windowsill. My heart sank. I was supposed to read those. “Which one would you recommend first?”
“The top one,” Cate answered. “It has the most important information—it’s not just about babies but about all sorts of medical emergencies.”
“Take Leah in the bathroom and start the shower. She needs the steam,” Cate said. “And tell Hope to go tell Dat what happened so he can call the doctor.”
Nan took Leah up to the bathroom, after I kissed the baby on the head. I’d fallen hard for her and her brothers. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to any of them.
After I asked Hope to go tell Bob, I collapsed on a kitchen chair, my head falling to my arms on the table, on top of the book I should have read two weeks before. I couldn’t stop the tears. What if I’d been alone with Leah when she began to choke? What if she’d died?
A sob shook me. Then another.
“Bea?” It was Cate, calling from the sunroom, her voice full of concern.
“I’m all right,” I called back, ashamed that I’d been so thoughtless to worry her. “I’m going to make some bottles for the boys.” I busied myself mixing the formula, fighting shame and despair. I’d been treated badly by Don. I’d ruined things with Ben. And then, by not reading the books Nan had recommended, I’d been negligent with Leah.
Hope came back and said the doctor advised setting up a humidifier in the nursery. Bob was going out to buy one, and then he’d connect it to a battery. She hurried on up the stairs to tell Nan.
As I filled the pan with water to heat the bottles, Hannah arrived on her horse. A minute later a buggy pulled up the drive. As it passed by, I saw it was our horse, Daisy, pulling our buggy with Molly driving it. No Leon. She and Hannah had probably schemed to meet here.
Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it, knowing it would be my sister and her best friend. I invited them in.
Molly hugged me. “We just wanted to say hello to Cate,” she said. “And maybe sneak a peek at the babies.”
I told her the babies were sick, although I didn’t have the fortitude to tell her what had just happened. “Cate’s in the sunroom.”
Hannah gave me a curt nod, confirming tha
t the gossip mill was up and running. My stomach lurched. At least she hadn’t said anything to Molly yet—I could tell by how happy my sister was to see me.
I sent them down the hall. Laughter drifted back toward me. How I wished I had my sister’s charm.
As I set the table, Nan came down with Kurt in her arms. “Who’s here?” she asked.
When I told her Hannah and Molly, she headed down the hall with the baby, acting as if nothing had happened a half hour earlier. A few minutes later, Molly came back up the hall, holding Kurt.
“Oh, goodness,” Molly said to me. “I can see why you like your job so much.”
I nearly laughed, first because Molly really didn’t like babies, although I was sure she’d adore her own, and next because Kurt wasn’t crying. It was the middle of the day, and Molly had only been holding him for thirty seconds. And he wasn’t choking.
Nan joined us in the kitchen and said, “Come on upstairs and see Asher. He’s much better. But Leah’s sick. Hope is in the bathroom with her.”
They left, parading on down the hall. I couldn’t fathom how relaxed Nan seemed. I was still shaking inside.
Ten minutes later, they all returned, and Hannah explained they were going to eat with the crew. “We brought our lunches,” Hannah said.
“Oh, I see,” Nan teased. “You’d rather eat with the crew than with us.” Then she turned toward me. “Beatrice, you and Hope should join them. Cate can give the boys their bottles. It would do you good to get out of the house.”
She couldn’t see the look on Hannah’s face—but I could. Clearly she didn’t think it was a good idea. But because Hannah hadn’t had a chance to share the latest gossip with Molly, my sister said, “That’s a great idea. I’ve really been missing Bea.”
“Perfect,” Nan said. “I’ll go tell Hope.” She turned toward me. “Just fix plates for the two of you and you can take it on out. We can serve ourselves.”
Before I could respond, she headed toward the stairs.
“We’ll go on out,” Hannah said, pulling on Molly’s arm. By the time I joined them, I was pretty sure Molly would know what was going on. I sighed. I probably should have tried to tell her first. But then again it didn’t matter. She was bound to believe Hannah over me anyway.
Hope seemed conflicted about going out to eat with the boys—happy to see Martin but not so sure about arriving with me. She rushed ahead. I didn’t try to keep pace with her. Obviously she didn’t want to be associated with me.
Ben wasn’t at the picnic table, but Don sat at the far end, and the seat across from him was open. He motioned for me to sit there.
I didn’t. Instead I stood behind Phillip and asked him to move down, saying I’d like to sit beside my sister.
For some reason he did. I put my plate on the table and squeezed in. Molly gave me one of her looks. Jah, I was right on target. Hannah had told her what was going on.
But Molly wasn’t deterred for long. “Anyway,” she said to everyone, “about Montana . . .”
“Will your whole family move?” Phillip asked.
Molly glanced at me. “I’m not sure . . .”
Don harrumphed from down at the end of the table. “I can’t imagine moving to Montana.”
My face grew warm. What was he insinuating? Did he think that because he’d ruined things between Ben and me, I’d court him? My throat tightened.
Molly pursed her lips together and shot me a look. I stared straight ahead. The door to the shop area opened. I expected Ben, but Pete walked out. Before the door shut all the way though, it flew open again, and Ben appeared. He still had that sorry pinched expression on his usually handsome face. He started toward the table but froze when he saw me.
I dropped my head, thinking of the poem about the two people who had loved each other but then love fled and “paced upon the mountains overhead.” Tears welled in my eyes as I pretended to concentrate on my meal, carving a trench in my potatoes with my fork for the gravy to pool in, but I couldn’t help but notice that Martin got up from the table even though Hope had just sat down.
Molly reached over and plucked one of my green beans from my plate and then another as she began to describe the river they’d fished in Montana. She’d never liked fishing before. I scooted the plate her way.
“I just ate a sandwich,” she answered.
“You’ll be able to eat this too,” I said. She always had a good appetite. I couldn’t imagine what it was like now that she was pregnant. “Besides,” I said, “I’m not hungry.”
She took the plate and started in on the roasted pork. “Yummy,” she said. “It’s your recipe, right? The one with the apples?”
I nodded. Lasting love might be in short supply, but we certainly had plenty of apples.
I glanced up. Martin and Ben were several yards away from the table, conversing. Hope looked over her shoulder at them and then at me. I smiled. She shrugged.
Molly took a bite of the homemade bread, with the apple butter spread across it. I could smell the mix of cloves and cinnamon. “Wunderbar,” she said. “Did you make this too?”
“Jah,” I said.
“You’re amazing,” Molly said.
Any other time, her praise would have sent me over the moon but not today.
Martin nudged Ben toward the table. Ben balked. Martin said something I couldn’t understand, but then Ben started toward the table. He stopped across from me.
“Beatrice,” he said.
I couldn’t help but notice he’d used my full name, not Bea. I swallowed hard, twice. I so wanted him to apologize for the way he’d acted, but it didn’t seem to be his intention.
Ben took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair as everyone waited. He placed his hat back in place and then placed his foot up on the bench and leaned forward. His voice was quiet, but still, everyone heard him say, “If you ask my forgiveness, I’ll give it to you. This one time.”
I gasped. I struggled to my feet, got tangled on the bench, managed to get my legs straight, and stood. “Ben Rupp,” I said, my hands flying to my hips, “I have nothing to ask your forgiveness for. You’re the one that’s been treating me like . . . ” My eyes fell to a planter filled with rainwater with a murky film on the top. “Like scum.”
Hannah giggled. Don chuckled. Obviously I hadn’t chosen a strong enough put-down. And Hope glanced toward Martin, who stood behind Ben, giving him a nudge.
Ben placed his foot back on the ground and stood tall. “You can’t do what you did and not hurt me. It’s not like I am required to give you a second chance . . . but I want to.”
I didn’t take the time to even take a breath. Instead I hissed, “You’re nothing but an I-G-N-O-R-A-M-U-S.” I’d wanted to call someone that my entire life—at least since the fifth grade—but not even Ben Rupp had deserved the term. Until now. I turned on my heel and began marching back toward the house.
“Bea!” It was Molly, coming after me.
I increased my speed, my fists clenched together at the injustice of it all. I didn’t blame Ben for being hurt by what he thought he saw. I did blame him for not trusting me and, even worse, for not listening to me. My Shohm had turned to Zann—anger.
“Wait!” Molly yelled.
Once I reached the stoop, I did. I was crying too hard to go into the house. When Molly reached me, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. “Oh, sweetie,” she said, “what’s going on?”
I laid my head on her shoulder, my tears soaking her dress, and let out sob after sob. Don had attacked me. Leah had almost choked to death. Ben didn’t love me.
“What happened?” she whispered.
I raised my head enough to see the others, still at the table, all of them staring at us except for Ben. He was nowhere in sight. “Hannah told you about Ben—right?” I managed to ask.
“Jah,” Molly said, “but I don’t think she has the story straight. You’re the most chaste person I know. You’d never do that. Tell me what happened.”
&nbs
p; I let out another sob. I’d never loved my sister more.
Chapter
18
Molly led me through the kitchen, past the table where Nan and Pete sat, each holding a baby, my head still plastered to her shoulder. “She’s not feeling well,” Molly said. “I’m taking her up to bed. I can stay and help with the Bopplis though.”
“Oh, dear . . .” Nan said. Although it sounded as if she was alarmed about Molly helping, I knew she said it out of concern for me.
When we got to the top of the stairs, I pulled away from Molly and led the way to my room. I kicked off my shoes and crawled into my bed. She scooted in beside me, and I thought of how, after Dat had died, I’d slept in her room with her. That made me cry all the more. Perhaps if I had a father to watch over me, all of this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe both Don and Ben would have been more respectful.
“Tell me everything,” Molly said.
I did, starting with what happened with Leah.
“But she’s fine, right?”
I nodded.
“And Nan doesn’t seem upset. Read the book.” She paused a moment, her lips tight, before saying, “And then loan it to me.”
I nodded.
“Now, tell me what happened with Don.”
I began with the ride over to the Cramers’ with Hope and Martin, saying I wanted to tell Ben about the Montana problem but didn’t have enough time to give it justice. “I might have seemed a little standoffish,” I said.
I could feel Molly’s head nod against the back of mine, probably agreeing I could seem that way at times. Probably a lot. “Go on,” she said.
I did, giving a detailed account of the entire evening, explaining about Don asking me to go with him, and me saying no. Don going off to talk to Ben and then telling me he would catch up, how at first Don acted gentlemanly, deferring to me, making sure I felt comfortable walking with him back to the Millers’. I gave a play-by-play account, but this time I didn’t leave out Don pressing up against me, grabbing my arm, and yanking me to the ground and clamping his hand over my mouth.