A Simple Charity

by Rosalind Lauer

  And what a help they were with the young ones! When the family was around, baby Tommy was never at a loss for someone to pick him up and tote him around the house, narrating chores like the cooking of dinner or the feeding of chickens. Will and Beth looked up to their older siblings, who had already taught them so much. Will loved fishing and repairing things with Caleb, and Beth enjoyed standing on a stool beside Elsie to help with the dinner dishes each night after supper.

  “Family is such a blessing,” Fanny said.

  Zed nodded. “I’m sorry I spent so many years away from mine.”

  “So I reckon you heard the story behind our needing some help here?” Fanny asked.

  When Zed shook his head, she told him about the day two weeks ago when she had helped Caleb buy wood from the lumberyard. “We were loading the new two-by-fours into the old carriage house, when I got clumsy. I gave Caleb a nasty poke by accident. And then I tripped and fell forward. The long piece of wood fell with me—right into one of the windows.” She waved off the concern on his face. “Ach, everyone was fine. But I learned that I wasn’t cut out to do that sort of work.”

  “Then Samuel has sent me to the right place.”

  As they talked, Fanny thought of how Bishop Sam put people and jobs together. Some folks were uncomfortable around the stern bishop—a graying bear of a man—but Fanny had always been able to face his owlish eyes and growling voice with a smile, just as she had been quick to abide his decisions. She would follow the bishop’s instructions and hire Zed.

  “Who’s here?” came Will’s voice as he burst into the kitchen, bare feet pattering on the linoleum. “Ah, it’s you, Zed. Caleb said that was your buggy.”

  “It is.”

  “And where were you off to?” Fanny asked.

  “To town. We all went to drop Elsie at the shop and pick up Caleb for lunch. And while we were there, Emma bought us cookies from the bakery.”

  “Cookies from the bakery,” Beth repeated, putting her chin on the table and staring up at Zed. At four, she was a smaller, chubby-cheeked version of her mother, with reddish brown hair and flashing blue eyes.

  “Did you save a bite for me?” Zed asked.

  “Nay. We gobbled them up,” Will said.

  “All gone,” Beth agreed.

  “You would think these two never had a snickerdoodle before.” Emma nodded at Zed as she came in and placed a fresh loaf of bread on the counter.

  Caleb was right behind her, and he spoke with Zed about the hot weather as he took a seat at the table beside him. Caleb would need to eat quickly and get back to work at the Stoltzfus ranch, though the rest of them could take their time.

  As the men talked about repairs to the carriage house, Fanny sent the children to wash their hands, then sat them all at the table. They bowed their heads for a silent prayer of thanks before helping themselves to cold chicken, potato salad, pickles, and the fresh bread Emma had bought at Halfway’s bakery.

  “The Fishers always do a good job,” Fanny said as she buttered a slice, “and it’s nice not to heat up the kitchen with baking this time of year.” Biting into the bread, she thought of the folks she had once counted as family. Joan Fisher, her former mother-in-law who still ran the bakery staffed by her daughters and nieces, reminded Fanny of a hardworking donkey—slow, steady, and stubborn. Joan always seemed to be on the brink of a bad temper, but Fanny suspected that she would be in a stormy mood, too, if she had to be at the bakery before three A.M. every day. Sometimes Fanny saw Gott’s wisdom in moving her away from the bakery business, as Fanny was an adequate baker, but her heart just wasn’t in kitchen work.

  “Tell us about the little baby!” Will said, interrupting Fanny’s thoughts.

  Everyone was delighted by the news of Lizzy and Joe’s newborn, and Fanny promised to bring Beth and Will along to visit when she went by tomorrow to check on Lizzy.

  “So, Zed here is asking me what we want to do with the carriage house,” Fanny said. “And I didn’t have the answer.”

  “It would be good to finish it with a bathroom and kitchen,” Caleb said. “Like a Doddy house. We might need it down the road.”

  A Doddy house was a small, complete home where grandparents lived on family property. Fanny suspected that Caleb was thinking that down the road, he or one of his sisters might need a starter home after they married, and it was a good plan. Gabe King had been courting Emma for quite a while now; they were probably next in line to marry. Elsie was becoming inseparable from Ruben Zook, and though Caleb never brought anyone around, Fanny knew from his late nights out that he was courting some lucky girl. In the next few years, there were bound to be more new babies in the family.

  “That might be an expensive renovation,” Emma said.

  “Could be,” Fanny agreed. “I wonder what that might cost.”

  Zed rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “I can ask around and get some prices for you.”

  “We should turn it into a zoo,” Will said. “And we can fill it with tigers and bears and elephants. And then we wouldn’t have to travel so far in a van to visit the zoo in Philadelphia.”

  “And who will feed the tigers and bears?” Emma asked.

  “I can do it,” Will said. “I’ll toss the animals some meat with a pitchfork.”

  “I can give the elephants peanuts,” Beth offered, her youthful face aglow with the notion of a backyard zoo. Dear little Beth had not even been to the zoo in Philadelphia yet, but one of her favorite picture books was about a trip to the zoo, and she knew that elephants were one of Gott’s creations.

  Fanny smiled at the children’s creativity. “Wouldn’t that be fun? Too bad we don’t have the space for wild elephants. We have to be content with our horses and chickens.”

  When the light meal was finished, Zed went off to survey the barn with Caleb.

  Fanny was rinsing plates in the sink when she saw the two of them cross the yard. There was something reassuring about the way Zed walked, sure and smooth, like thick molasses. Zed would make a fine husband for a very lucky Amish girl. Such a good young man with a heart of gold. Oh, he was still in the doghouse now, but the shadow of his life with the Englishers would fade over time. Soon all the single women in the community would see Zed as a right fine catch. Fanny had a flash of Zed being followed by a row of his own little ducklings, and she wiped her hands on a towel before dipping down to hug Beth and tickle little Tommy. Ya, she wished Zed the joy of children.

  “Do you want Gabe to help with the carriage house?” Emma asked as she dried a fistful of forks and knives. “He told me he could find the time.”

  “That would be wonderful. I think we’re going to need lots of spare hands.” And it’s a good excuse for you to have Gabe here at the house, Fanny thought with a secret smile as she watched her oldest daughter stack the forks in the drawer. It was tempting to tease Emma, but Fanny didn’t want to ruffle the very serious young woman’s feathers. Besides, Fanny understood the sweetness of true love. When you were inside the wondrous bubble, you didn’t want folks on the outside poking at you.

  With the dishes done, Fanny yawned, thinking of the chores not even started yet.

  “Did Lizzy and the baby have you up all night?” Emma asked.

  “I got some sleep. And, Emma, you have to see the baby. Such a cute little thing, with a crown of blond hair like his mother.”

  Smoothing down the edges of her apron, Emma smiled. “I’m so happy for Lizzy. A baby boy, you said?”

  Fanny nodded as she imagined Emma with a baby of her own. That wouldn’t be far off now … just a few years. A knot of emotion grew in Fanny’s throat at the thought of dear Emma caring for a babe of her own.

  So many changes! This family had endured such sadness this past year. Fanny prayed that the changes ahead of them would be for the better. Weddings and babies … many babies, Gott willing.

  Emma offered to tidy the bedrooms upstairs, and Fanny set to sweeping the downstairs. She had told Lizzy to go easy on the chores for a few
days. New mothers here in Halfway had to be reminded of that. They didn’t get a little break, like the women in the birth centers back home in Sugar Valley.

  Such fond memories Fanny had of that place! Fanny’s grandmother had turned the Doddy house into a little retreat with beds and cribs—a place where all the Amish women in Sugar Valley used to go to have their babies. “Going to Martha’s,” a mother would say, and she’d meet the doctor there and get a bed to stay in for three whole days while Martha and her helpers cooked meals and cared for the baby. Women loved going to Martha’s.

  Curious about the women who always left Martha’s happily, each with a baby bundled in her arms, Fanny had made excuses for peeking into the building behind their house. She brought cookies and apples. She offered to sweep the floor or wash the windows. Mammi put her to work, giving her light chores and letting her wait on the mothers or change diapers. Then one day, two women were having their babies at the same time, and Fanny was allowed to stay and help. She had watched in wonder as Mammi tended the women with soothing words and warm cloths on their foreheads. She witnessed pain, but few complaints. And when a baby finally slid into the doctor’s hands, Fanny was hooked. This was a miracle she longed to be a part of, again and again.

  Now, as she swept the crumbs and dirt into a dustpan, Fanny wished once again that there was a birth center close by, here in Lancaster County.

  At a lull in Lizzy’s labor, Fanny had spun her tale about the birth centers back in Ohio. Lizzy had said it sounded wonderful good, and Joe had wished they had a place like that here in Lancaster, so the docs would know right where to go when they were called. It was a very good point that Joe made. If they had a place like Martha’s here, a birthing center … would Anna take to it? The midwife was in her sixties, slowing down a bit. She might like a place closer to home, even walking distance from her house.

  With Tommy on her hip, Fanny headed out to talk with Caleb and Zed about a new possibility for the carriage house.

  7

  The adrenaline rush of delivering Lizzy and Joe King’s baby was still thrumming in Meg’s veins as she stowed her equipment in the back of her car. Add to that the bubbly joy of attraction to a tall, handsome man, and she had half a mind to dance up the inn steps, Ginger Rogers–style. It was nice to meet someone like Jack, even if it was just a short interlude. Sometimes small moments sparkled like stars. Little gems you could put into your pocket to save for the sad times when you needed them.

  She went into the kitchen looking for her sister, but found Shandell scrubbing down the countertops.

  “Meg!” The young woman flung her arms in the air with a gaping look of shock. “Oh, my gosh! Zoey told me you had to leave the breakfast service to go off and help Fanny deliver a baby. I couldn’t believe it. How’d it go?” Shandell could never be faulted for lack of enthusiasm.

  “There were a few complications, but it all worked out fine.” Meg poured herself some hot water from one of the urns they kept in the cubby beside the kitchen. “Lizzy and Joe King have a sweet baby boy.”

  “Lizzy and Joe King? I think they’re Rachel’s cousins. I’ll bet Rachel’s family is thrilled. The Amish love babies. And you delivered him? Or did you help the doctor? How did that work?”

  “The doctor couldn’t make it in time. So, yeah.” Dunking a tea bag in her cup, Meg cracked a smile and chuckled. “I did it.” After all the angst, all the fear that it would never happen again, she’d delivered a healthy baby. The personal victory was sweet.

  “I didn’t know you were a midwife.” Shandell tossed away the bunch of paper towels and came around the counter. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I was on a break.” Meg faced the young woman, wondering how her sister had managed to find such an earnest, clearheaded employee. That was the luck of Zoey; she had that blithe, unblinking enthusiasm that seemed to attract others of the same ilk.

  “So, wait. That’s why you were here, working as the cook. Kind of like a working vacation?”

  “I was trying for the vacation part, but as you can see, my sister doesn’t believe in idle time. And where is Zoey?”

  “She made a run into Paradise.”

  Meg took a sip of her tea, thinking of how Zoey had saved her from that dark room … saved her from herself. And today, pushing her into that buggy with a worried expectant father, Zoey had forced her to face her fears.

  My sister should have gotten a degree in psychology.

  “So, the kitchen is done for the day,” Shandell reported. “Zoey asked me to check out our store of eggs and cheese and stuff, and we’re good to go for tomorrow. I transferred those Amish recipes to cards and put them in this drawer.” Shandell opened a drawer to show Meg, and that’s when the realization swiftly hit Meg.

  She wouldn’t be here for breakfast tomorrow.

  She had to get back to Pittsburgh, back into the thick of the problem. No one was going to step in and fix it for her; she needed to buck up and do it herself.

  “Someone else is going to handle breakfast,” Meg said. “I’m going upstairs to pack. It’s time for me to get back to my job in Pittsburgh.” Time to see if I still have a job in Pittsburgh.

  Shandell closed the drawer with a confused expression. “Who’s going to cook for the inn? Can I give it a try?”

  Meg shook her head. “You’ll need to talk with Zoey about that, but I think she’d be happy to give you a shot at it.” She lifted her cup to Shandell in a salute. “Thanks for all your help here. You have a great attitude, Shandell.”

  The young woman smiled. “Now I just need the credentials to back it up, but I’m working on it. I’m on track to get my GED by the end of summer, and then community college in the fall.”

  Meg opened her arms wide to give Shandell a hug, and then proceeded upstairs to pack.

  “I am sorry to see you go, but I get it.” Zoey was perched against the pillows of Meg’s bed, wiggling her toes so that she could admire her glittery pedicure. “So you’re not mad at me for making you go and deliver that baby?”

  “I’m always annoyed at you for something,” Meg admitted.

  Zoey arched one eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest. “The joy of sisterhood.”

  “But going to help was the right thing to do.” T-shirt in hand, Meg perched beside her sister for a moment as she recalled the happy couple curled up on the sofa around their baby. They had needed her today. Although Fanny might have been able to untangle the cord, the Amish midwife’s kit did not contain suctioning tools to clear the baby’s airways. Childbirth could be complicated. Sometimes, serious intervention was necessary.

  “I wish you could have seen them—a new family. Once we cleaned the baby up, you could see his crown of golden hair, just like his mother. And a little button nose. And Lizzy and Joe were all over him, talking and cooing and cuddling. A newborn is such a magnificent thing—a true miracle. In all the turmoil over my investigation, I lost sight of what really matters.”

  “That is so beautiful!” Zoey pressed a hand to her throat. “You’re getting me all choked up.”

  “Being there this morning, I knew what I had to do. All the training and experience, it was at my fingertips. I’m good at what I do.”

  “Yes, you are. When my time comes, you’re the one I want yelling at me to breathe and relax so that I don’t break every bone in Tate’s hand.”

  “I care about my patients. I keep up with the latest technologies and developments. I’m not afraid to call an ambulance and transport to the hospital when a patient needs it.”

  “That’s right, honey.” Zoey patted Meg’s shoulder. “You have always done the right thing. Even when I tried to keep you from telling Dad who ate all the Oreos, you had to confess. Moral and honest to a tee.”

  “The charges against me are wrong,” Meg said, folding the T-shirt in her lap. “I didn’t break protocol for the Collier baby. I called for transport to the hospital, but the ambulance couldn’t get through.”

  “
I was wondering when you were going to tell me about that nightmare case.” Zoey’s lips were pursed now, about as serious as she ever got. “Tell me about it. I’ve been dying to get your side of the story.”

  The icy desolation of that terrible night came rushing back to Meg. So far she had only told her sister a few details—that she had been called to the scene by a neighbor of the pregnant woman, who didn’t know her well at all, but had taken pity on her.

  “She’s owned the place for about a year now,” the neighbor had told Meg over the phone, “but I’ve only seen her a handful of times. Didn’t even know she was expecting a child until she called the house and woke us up. My husband called 911, but the local rescue squad is clearing a crash on the bridge. There’s black ice everywhere. They don’t think that they’ll be getting out here anytime soon. I saw from the phone book that you live in the area. Maybe you can get here.” The neighbor, Nora Landers, said she was going to stay with Ms. Collier: “But I’m not much good to her. I’m no doctor.”

  Meg had told Nora she would try to make it out to the Collier place, but made no promises in this weather. Hanging up, she fell back against her pillow, teased by the temptation of warmth and sleep.

  Deedee Collier was not her responsibility. Most midwives did not take on clients already in labor. A good midwife worked with a mother throughout her pregnancy, developing a relationship and monitoring her medical condition. Meg had no obligation to brave the bad weather to serve Ms. Collier.

  But as she rolled over in bed, her eyes wide open, she felt a tug of sympathy. Denying this woman help seemed ruthless. She couldn’t ignore the pang of duty deep inside.