After each delivery, Fanny had taken to complimenting Meg on her handling of newborns. “The way you talk and coo over the babies is so natural,” Fanny said. “I believe Gott intends for you to be a mother because you already know all the right things to say.”
If only it was that simple, Meg had thought. If only my body would cooperate.
The pond was occupied by more than a dozen Amish youth. At the far end, a hockey game was in progress, and the boys skated fast and hard as they called out to team members to pass the puck. A few slid down to their knees to keep from falling. Closer to the path, a handful of young women skated in a wide circle, chatting as they went along.
Meg tried to ignore the knot forming in her lower belly as she sat down and pushed off her boots. Cramps. She knew they were coming on, but she figured she would power through them.
She and Jack laced up their skates and took to the ice. From his days of playing street hockey, Jack liked to skate fast with knees bent, staying low to the ground. Meg had only been skating in rinks with groomed ice.
“Whoa.” She held out her arms for balance. “Pretty bumpy.”
“You get used to it,” one of the Amish girls said.
“After you learn where the bumps and ridges are,” said another girl.
On closer inspection, Meg realized she was a woman, a little person. Fanny’s daughter. “Hi, there, Elsie. Do you skate here often?”
“Only in the winter,” Elsie answered with a smile. She wore a black coat with a blue scarf that wrapped around her neck and under her black bonnet. “My friend, he likes to come and play hockey. I like to get out in the fresh air, but not for too long.”
“Yeah, you’ll turn to a snowman in this weather,” Jack interjected.
Elsie giggled, covering her mouth with a mitten. “Or a snow woman,” she answered before she skated off.
“Hey, girl.” Jack skated up to Meg and took her arms. “You’re really pale. You feeling okay?”
She held on to his forearms as pain tugged at her abdomen. “I’ve got cramps. Bad ones.”
“Okay. You just hang on to me and I’ll be your guide over the bumps.” And just like that, he began to skate backward, pulling her along slowly like a tugboat.
“You can skate backward? I never learned to do that.”
“Yeah, I got mad skills.”
She relaxed a little, relieved to let him propel them and keep her steady. Face-to-face, she could bask in his eyes, which spoke of love and concern for her. It was highly romantic, a close, personal dance.
But their bliss was short-lived.
“I’m just going to sit down for a while and swallow some ibuprofen,” she told him.
“Poor kid. I’ll sit with ya. We got that thermos of hot chocolate.”
The snow pants and puffy coat gave her plenty of padding as she maneuvered into a comfortable spot on the log. Being off her feet helped ease the pain immediately, but the cramps usually held on. When Jack perched beside her and opened the thermos, she realized this was her chance. Her teachable moment.
“I’ve always had a problem with cramps,” she told him.
“Female stuff?” They both watched the steaming cocoa gush into the cup.
“Actually, it’s a little more extreme than that. Have you ever heard of endometriosis? Because that’s what I have.”
He capped the thermos and handed her the cup. At least he wasn’t racing off through the snow yet. So far, so good. “So tell me about it.”
She swallowed the pills down with a sip of cocoa and handed the cup back. “It could limit my ability to have children.”
He stared off over the pond as she spilled out the details. It was hereditary but not usually serious. She often suffered painful cramps, but only during her period. Zoey had it, too, and she’d managed to get pregnant. She told him about the laparoscopic procedure, which she had scheduled for February. “The doctors think surgery will improve my chances of pregnancy.”
“Well, that’s great. I mean, bummer that you’ve got this thing, but it sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. And then you’ve got a window of fertility for a year or so?”
She nodded, relieved that he comprehended the situation immediately. “That’s what studies indicate.”
Jack put the empty cup aside and rubbed his chin, a thoughtful light in his eyes as he processed it all. “Okay, then. What’s your thinking on a time line for the next year? For us.”
“I don’t know. Mostly I wanted to give you an out. I know you really want kids, and it’s a deal breaker for a lot of people. I want kids, too, I really do, and I’m going to do my best to make it happen. But you can’t ignore science.”
He squinted at her. “You’re giving me an out? Come on, Megs. I’m not giving you up. Get that through your pretty head.” He pretended to knock on her knit cap. “I’m in this for the long haul, for better or worse.”
She looked up at him, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. She didn’t think she would ever love anyone as much as she loved him in that moment.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He angled his body toward hers and took her in his arms. “I’m gonna stick with you and take my chances.”
When he kissed her, the light touch of his lips awakened something inside her. The tenderness he stirred in her gave birth to a new vulnerability. The tough shell of stoic, practical Meg was cracking open to reveal a new woman—a playful, impetuous person—one who would take a chance on love.
Jack ended the kiss, hugging her close. “I don’t want to give these kids any ideas,” he muttered under his breath.
Meg smiled as she glanced lazily down the pond at the other skaters. No one paid any attention to them. “Mmm. I think they know the deal but, yeah. The midwife and the cop should not be setting a bad example.”
“So …” He leaned back slightly so their eyes could meet. “How about that time line? I didn’t want to rush you to get married, but now it looks like God’s giving us a little push.”
“A big push,” she agreed, studying his face. “But I’m ready, Jack.” It was the first time a huge decision in her life did not seem daunting and frightening. “I’m ready if you are.”
He looked up at the winter sky. “Thank you, Lord. I couldn’t have asked for a better segue.”
“What are you talking about?”
He unzipped his jacket and fished out a small, blue velvet jewelry box. “Man, I’ve been walking around with this ring in my pocket, hoping and praying there’d be a time to spring it on you.” Dropping to one knee on the well-packed snow, he lifted his eyes to hers. Jack had a way of captivating her with a simple glance. “Marry me, Meg. Marry me and we’ll have a whole posse of kids. A house filled with joy and laughter. I know there’ll be bumps in the road, but if we’re traveling together, we’ll make the most of it.”
A pulse of joy thrummed in her ears. She could not have dreamed of such a beautiful proposal, under a canopy of snow-covered trees. “Jack … I can’t imagine a life without you.”
“My heart’s pumping like crazy.” He pressed the jewelry box to his chest with a smile. “This is like … an epic moment.”
A moment Meg would never forget. She’d been so nervous about telling Jack; this was not the outcome she’d expected. “You are full of surprises.”
“You should try this on.” The ring’s lavender stone glittered as he slid it onto her finger. “A perfect fit. How about that?”
Never a big jewelry fan, Meg was drawn to the ring’s tooled silver setting and the way the flat stone was nearly flush against her hand. “It’s beautiful, Jack.”
“It was my grandmother’s … a late engagement ring. My grandfather gave it to her on their tenth anniversary when their finances were on an even keel.” He explained that his gran had popped it into the mail soon after Christmas because of her sense that Jack was getting seriously involved with Meg.
“How could she know that? You haven’t seen her for months. She hasn’t met me yet.”
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“Maternal instincts, I guess.” He held up her hand, smiling over the twinkling gemstone. “If you want to pick out a diamond instead, I’m cool with that.”
“No way.” She tugged her hand away, coddling the stone. “It suits me well, and I like that it has a family history.”
Still kneeling, he put his hands on her knees and leaned forward so that his forehead pressed hers, so close, so intimate. It was as if they were the only two people in this winter scene.
“Thank you,” Meg whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
With a sigh of contentment, Meg closed her eyes and melted into his kiss. For a few moments they sat in silence, basking in the peace of the winter landscape and the contentment of each other’s company. Thank you, dear Lord, Meg prayed silently. Thank you for bringing love into my life when I least expected it.
“How’re you feeling?” Jack asked. “You okay?”
“Better, but I don’t think I’ll be competing for any figure skating medals today.”
Jack chuckled. “There’s always another Olympics coming down the pike.”
The day’s light was graying and a chill set in as they finished up the last of the cocoa and removed their skates. Meg moved tenderly, but pain no longer gripped her. As they walked up the path from the frozen pond, they held hands, chatting about how Jack had started putting together Abigail’s crib and had to abandon the project after four hours.
“I was thinking we might head over that way, help Kat out.”
“Sure. Though the baby really won’t need a crib for a few weeks, it’s good to have it all ready to go,” she said. “And any excuse to see Abigail works for me.” Although Meg routinely did postpartum care for mothers, she didn’t always get to visit with the babies she’d delivered. But then, it would be different with Abigail … soon to be her niece.
Her niece. That had a nice ring to it.
For years she had resigned herself to being single and childless. And now? Now she was about to be a wife, an aunt, and maybe even a mother. God truly did work in wondrous ways.
31
It began when Zoey couldn’t finish the breakfast frittata that Shandell had prepared. “It’s delicious, as usual,” Zoey insisted, maneuvering to lift her bulky body from her seat at the table. “But I’m just not that hungry this morning.” She stretched her arms out. “My lower back has been feeling a little twingey. Is it too decadent to take a bath this early in the morning?”
Meg pressed a napkin to her lips as she studied her sister. All the signs were there. The baby had dropped two days ago, and Zoey had reported that she didn’t sleep well. Of course, she would examine Zoey after her bath, but she had a strong sense that this was it.
“Take your bath, honey,” she said. “When you’re done, you and Tate might want to take a walk, just to the edge of town and back. That’s really helpful in the early stages of labor.”
Tate lowered his newspaper and Shandell rushed over from the kitchen sink.
“Do you think? Really?” Zoey scraped back her pale hair with a wan smile. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“Of course you’re ready. You’ve just about memorized What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” Shandell started to clear the table. “This is so exciting. What do you want me to do?”
“For starters, you can take out those sheets that we wrapped up, and the drop cloths. In a little bit, I’ll send you over to let Fanny know. Experienced help is always a good thing.” Fanny had a wonderful way with mothers, and she seemed to anticipate what was needed. Working with Fanny, Meg often felt as if she had an extra set of hands to accomplish everything that needed to be done during a delivery.
Tate put down his Wall Street Journal and came to Zoey’s side. “How about I escort you to the master suite?”
Zoey took his arm and leaned into him affectionately. “Well, it’s just a few steps away, but you’re so sweet, I can never say no to you.”
Meg’s suspicions were confirmed with a quick exam. All that morning, she thanked God for bringing her here to monitor and chart and savor her sister’s progress. She kept watch over Zoey, sometimes just rubbing her feet. It was best to keep a low profile and allow Zoey and Tate their privacy and intimacy. Just after noon, Zoey transitioned into active labor, and just before suppertime, a baby girl was born.
Although the birth had gone smoothly, Meg felt supercharged with the surge of adrenaline that came with coaxing a baby into the world.
“Ten fingers and ten toes?” Tate asked.
“Yes, and she’s beautiful and very alert. Aren’t you?” Meg saw her sister’s full lips in the infant, who stared up at her curiously. She swaddled her in a warm receiving blanket and handed her to Tate, saying, “Off you go to Daddy.”
“Amazing Grace.” Low-key, rational Tate actually had tears in his eyes.
“That’s a wonderful good name,” Fanny said, and she began to hum the hymn.
Tate brought the baby to Zoey and laid her on his wife’s belly. With a slow smile, Zoey was now a picture of relaxation. “Come here, you little girl, you.” She pushed back the blanket to examine her little girl, downy hair, wrinkly flesh, and pudgy thighs. “You are just perfect.”
Over the next two weeks, as Zoey and Tate settled into their wondrous, sleep-deprived role as parents of a newborn, Meg and Jack began to sow the seeds of their new life together. They picked a wedding date in the first week of March. A ceremony at their church would be followed by a small dinner at the Halfway to Heaven Bed and Breakfast.
Meg and Jack began a series of counseling sessions with their minister, Bob Palmer, whose home could have been an advertisement for family life, with sleds and snow forts on the front lawn, and kid art on the bulletin board in his office.
Neither Meg nor Jack was thrilled with the prospect of staying in his bachelor apartment. A local Realtor showed them a few places, but nothing suited them. In the end, they decided to rent one of three outbuildings that Zoey and Tate had turned into guest cottages. Some renovation was required to turn the tiny kitchenette into a full-size kitchen, but once the work was completed the two-bedroom cottage would be a perfect home for them. The cottage was full of country charm, and both Meg and Jack liked being close to town and just off a major road, in case they had to get to work in inclement weather.
“And you’ll be right in our backyard!” Zoey exclaimed.
Meg chuckled. “Literally. Mom always wanted the two of us to stay close, but I don’t think even she could imagine us living a few yards from each other.”
“I’m so glad Mom’s coming for the wedding.” Zoey patted the baby’s back. Grace was facedown in her lap, a good position for relieving gas.
It was Sunday, just after noon, and Zoey and Tate had just returned from church. Meg had gone with Jack last night, as he had to work today, and she had enjoyed spending the morning with her niece, who definitely favored a connection with a warm body over the flat, cool desert of her barren crib. Now that there were guests in the inn, they were using the private sitting room, just off Zoey and Tate’s suite. Wearing a robe and spandex shorts, Meg was waiting for Shandell to return from the sewing area in the laundry room with the shell of her wedding gown.
“I can’t wait to see your gown,” Zoey said. “Shandell is really excited about it.”
To her surprise, Meg had been enjoying the dressmaking process, too. For someone who lived in blue jeans, the prospect of dressing up had been daunting.
Wanting to keep things simple, Meg had been putting feelers out for local dressmakers when Shandell had volunteered to make her wedding gown. “You’ve chosen a really simple pattern; I could have whipped this together in junior high,” Shandell had insisted.
“That young woman has hidden talents,” Meg said. “I was a little worried when we picked out the material; it’s so delicate. But she’s a skilled seamstress.”
“And do you know who taught her how to follow a pattern and sew a straight seam?” asked Zoey. �
��Rachel King.” A young Amish woman, Rachel had helped Shandell when she was first stranded in Halfway. “Shandell is a treasure,” Meg agreed.
The young woman was also going to be Meg’s driver tomorrow, the day of her surgery. Shandell had been the obvious choice because Jack was working, and Meg didn’t want to drag Zoey or Tate away from the inn and the baby for the entire morning.
Meg was cooing for baby Grace when Shandell returned with the dress.
“Okay.” Enthusiasm flashed in Shandell’s eyes. Her obsidian hair was braided and piled atop her head, giving her an elfin appearance. “The seams are done, but I can always take them in a little if need be.”
“Oooh.” Zoey’s face was lit with approval as she smiled up at the dress.
Even on its hanger, the dress had a lovely shape. It was a basic A-line with an empire waist made of wide satin ribbon, which Shandell had stitched in on the top. “Let’s try it on,” Meg said.
“First let me unpin the back. That’s where the zipper goes.” Shandell helped Meg slide it over her head, then pinched the back together and slipped in some pins.
“Shandell! You have really outdone yourself. Meg, honey, you look beautiful!”
Meg turned to Shandell. “Does she think I’m usually ugly?” she teased.
Shandell laughed as Zoey sought to correct the impression. “No, no, it’s just that you almost never dress up, and when you do, this is the look that works for you. A-line, sophisticated yet simple. I love it.”
Facing the mirror, Meg took a breath and smiled. “I do, too.”
“I would recommend adding some sleeves,” Zoey said, dabbing at Grace’s mouth with a cloth diaper. “You are getting married in March, and it’s bound to be chilly.”
“The dress has sleeves, gathered at the shoulder then tapered,” Shandell reported. “So you really like it?” When Meg nodded, Shandell pressed a hand to her chest and let out a breath. “I am so relieved! I’ve been reading so many stories of crazy bridezillas who change their minds, I was beginning to worry.”
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