by Leslie Gould
Shani drove Zane to Anthony’s house and walked with him to the front door. Anthony’s mother was home. So were his three younger brothers and his older sister—who turned out to be the eighth-grade girl at the bus stop who was friendly to Zane.
The mom seemed a little overwhelmed but nice. “As long as it’s not raining, they’ll be playing outside,” she said with a sigh. “Why they have a day off in the middle of the week is beyond me.”
Shani almost launched into an explanation about the importance of remembering veterans and their sacrifices but bit her tongue. She wished she’d gotten one of those red poppies to wear on her jacket.
Having a family day turned into a nap on the couch and then leftover tomato soup and another grilled cheese sandwich with Joel. She thanked Joel for his service, but he just shook his head.
When it was time to go get Zane, she asked Joel if he wanted to ride along.
He gave her a wilting look.
“Your chair isn’t that heavy.”
“That’s all we need—for you to hurt your back or make the baby come early.”
When she arrived to pick up Zane none of the kids were outside. And it wasn’t raining. She knocked on the door several times before Anthony’s sister finally answered. “They’re back in the den,” she said. “I’ll go get them.”
Shani followed her. “Where’s your mom?” she asked the girl.
“Probably in the laundry room.”
When they reached the den, Zane glanced up from where he sat on the couch next to Anthony, who was playing a game. The girl plopped down in an easy chair. Shani’s eyes fell to the TV. “What are you playing?”
Zane stood. “Let’s go.”
“Zane . . .”
“Thanks for having me,” he said to Anthony, who grunted.
“Anytime,” the girl answered.
“Tell your mom thanks,” Zane added, heading toward the doorway.
Anthony waved and said, “See you tomorrow.”
Neither of the kids walked them down the hall to the door. As they let themselves out, Shani heard a child cry from upstairs.
“Did you have fun?” Shani asked as they climbed into the van.
“Not really,” Zane answered.
“What game was Anthony playing?”
“One you wouldn’t like.”
“Zane . . .”
“I didn’t play it, okay?” He was silent the rest of the way but brightened up when he peered down the Lehmans’ driveway. “Stop!”
Shani did.
“They’re home,” Zane said, opening the door. As he jumped out, he said, “We’ll be down for a snack in a few minutes.”
By the time she’d parked the van and started toward the house, Simon and Daniel came running through the hedge of the field. After a quick hello they scampered up the steps to the porch, where they stopped.
But then Joel yelled, “Come on in.”
The boys glanced at her for permission. “Go ahead,” she answered.
She started toward the field. Zane and the girls couldn’t be far behind. They weren’t. “How’s Eve doing?” Shani asked Lila as they approached.
“She’s fine.”
“What’s she up to?”
“She said she had some phone calls to make—she took Trudy to the barn.”
“Oh.” Shani had thought a cup of coffee with Eve sounded good, but she didn’t want to interrupt her calls. She followed the children to the house but stayed out of the kitchen. They didn’t need her.
Joel had the TV off and wheeled his chair toward her when she entered. “Charlie called.”
“Oh?”
“You know, happy Veterans Day and all that . . . Misht.”
Shani shook her head. “I see Zane’s been giving you language lessons.”
Joel smirked. “I’m a good student.”
She hung up her purse. “Did Charlie say anything besides that?”
“He asked if he could come down on Friday.”
“Really?” Shani thought he’d planned to spend the weekend back home.
“I told him yes. He wants to chop more wood.”
Maybe Charlie would lift Joel’s spirits. “Did he say anything else?”
“Nope. He said he’d phone back later. He had a call coming in.”
Shani hung up her coat. It was probably a call from Nikki, but if he was coming back this weekend that meant he wasn’t pining after her. Otherwise Shani was sure he’d stay in Philly.
Friday on her way to work, Shani stopped by the Lehmans’ place. The buggy was gone. She hoped Tim was off somewhere and not Eve. As she hurried up the back steps, the door swung open and there stood Eve with Trudy on her hip. Both were smiling. The baby reached for Shani.
“You two look so happy,” she said as Trudy fell into her arms. She should have offered to watch the baby the day before, to cheer up Joel.
“Want a cup of coffee?” Eve asked.
“I’d love one,” Shani answered. “But I’m on my way into work.” She made a face at Trudy, and the baby giggled as she followed Eve into the kitchen. “It seems like the kids have a system worked out as far as getting a snack at our house and then getting home on time.”
“They get a snack at your house?”
Shani nodded. “It’s fine. I stocked up on fruit and crackers and cheese sticks. Joel seems to like having them come in.” Not that he would admit it.
Eve crossed her arms.
“He turns the TV off,” Shani added. “But I wanted to let you know that the kids have been playing Romans.”
“Romans?”
Shani nodded. “As in soldiers.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows shot up. “I see.”
“I told Zane to choose something else, but I wanted you to know. In case you wanted to . . .” Shani stopped.
Eve was smiling. Her friend chuckled and then said, “I remember playing World War II when I was little, with Tim. He was usually a fighter pilot, and I’d pretend to jump out of his plane and storm the creek bed.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Of course he’d never fess up to it now. And he wouldn’t be happy about the Roman soldier thing—he’d let it go with Simon but not with Daniel.”
Shani cocked her head. “Why’s that?”
Eve blushed. “It’s a fault of his. Gideon has talked with him about it. In fact, Gideon warned him not to favor Simon.” She sighed. “I wish he’d change. I know other Dats who don’t show any favoritism to their biological kids and—”
“What?” Shani asked.
“Favoritism?”
“No. The biological stuff. Tim’s not Daniel’s biological father?”
Eve shook her head. “Nor Lila’s, of course.”
Shani placed her hand on the side of her belly. The twins had blond hair, but so did Trudy. “When did Tim marry Abra?”
“When Daniel and Lila were fourteen months old.”
“Wow.”
Eve wrinkled her nose. “It’s not a secret. The kids know—although no one really talks about it.”
“Who’s their biological father?”
Eve’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, we don’t talk about that at all. He left the area before Abra knew she was pregnant.” Eve seemed a little uncomfortable. “And then she didn’t want him to know. She was afraid he or his family might try to get custody, or something like that.” Eve blushed even more. “She didn’t have much of a relationship with him . . .”
“So I take it the father was Englisch.”
“Jah,” Eve said.
“Wow.” Shani’s hand went to her throat. “No wonder Tim doesn’t want Englischers influencing his kids.”
Eve nodded. “I’ve probably said too much.”
“Don’t worry,” Shani said. “I won’t say anything to Zane or anything like that. It’s not our business.” She didn’t want to offend Tim—not for any reason, but especially not when he’d been more tolerant of Zane in the last couple of weeks.
“Denki.�
�� Eve raised her eyebrows again. “And I’ll talk with the kids about playing Roman soldiers.”
“Thanks,” Shani said. She was grateful for the information about the twins. It made her want to be a friend to the children all the more.
Eve nodded.
Shani smiled. “How’s the bishop?”
Eve shrugged. “I haven’t seen him all week.”
“Oh.” She searched Eve’s face, but she wasn’t giving anything away. “But you’ll see him this weekend?”
“Maybe,” Eve said.
“How’s Tim’s job going?”
“Good. One of Gideon’s staff quit, so Tim’s working five days a week now. Tuesday through Saturday.”
Shani suppressed a smile. That was why Eve seemed so much more relaxed.
Traffic going into Lancaster was slower than usual, putting Shani a little behind. And finding a parking place during the middle of the day was harder than she expected. By the time she rushed onto the pediatric ward she was nearly late for the shift change. The day-shift charge nurse took it easy on her, waiting to give Shani her assignments until last.
The first was a thirteen-year-old boy who’d had an appendectomy that morning. That would be pretty straightforward. The second was an eight-year-old girl with brain cancer. That would be heartbreaking. The third was a baby girl, just six months old, with pneumonia.
“She and her mom were visiting the grandparents—and the little girl fell ill. This is the second time she’s had pneumonia this fall, so they’re running tests. She won’t be back in the room for a couple of hours.”
Shani’s name was already on the whiteboard, with the patients listed below it. All the other nurses had four or five patients. The charge nurse was being nice to let her ease into it. Not that she couldn’t handle the work—she’d been working in pediatrics for four years—but it always took a while to get used to where everything was on a new ward and how things were done.
After she’d checked in with the older children, she poked her head into the baby’s room, just in case they’d made it back from the tests. It was empty.
Fifteen minutes later, as she filled in the chart for the boy, a transportation specialist pushed a crib down the hall. Behind it walked a young woman with short strawberry blond hair, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, and a middle-aged couple. The older woman wore a dress and a cap much like the Amish did, except the material was a print, not solid. And the cap was rounded, not heart shaped.
Shani finished her notes and started down to the room. When she rounded the corner, she almost bumped into the young woman. She stood facing the couple, saying, “You should go home and get some rest. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
“Do you want us to come up this evening?” the man asked.
The young woman shook her head. “Come back in the morning. I promise I’ll call if I need you sooner.”
Shani slipped by as the three hugged. “Thank you for everything,” the young woman said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Shani stole a last look. The older woman was dabbing at her eyes. The younger woman hugged her again. “She’ll be all right. She’s a strong little girl.”
“You’ve been through so much,” the older woman said. “Too much.”
“I’m okay,” the younger woman said. “As long as she’s going to be all right, I will be too.”
Shani had forgotten the baby’s name, so she checked the chart. Samantha Johnson. The little one was asleep.
Shani pulled her stethoscope from her shoulders, but a sound at the door distracted her. The young woman leaned against the doorframe, her hands to her face.
“Are you all right?” Shani asked.
The woman nodded, but it was clear she was crying.
Shani stepped to her and put her arm around her. “I’m Shani. Samantha’s nurse for the evening.”
“I’m Karina,” the woman said through her hands. “Samantha’s mama.”
Shani wondered why the young woman had her parents leave, but she didn’t ask. If there was one thing she’d learned in her years of nursing it was, if there were problems in a family, they were bound to come out under the stress of a hospitalization.
Shani stepped toward the baby, who was under an oxygen tent in the crib. The woman followed. “You’re visiting in Lancaster, right?”
“Yes.” Karina dropped her hands away, revealing a tear-streaked face, and stepped to the end of the crib. “We’re from Philly. Visiting my in-laws.”
“Oh,” Shani said. They weren’t her parents.
Karina continued. “Samantha’s grandparents moved here from Illinois, to be closer to us. They didn’t want to live in a big city, though. So they chose Lancaster.”
Shani nodded, wondering where Samantha’s father was. “So Samantha’s had pneumonia before?”
Karina nodded. “She’s been sickly since she was born—seven weeks early, but the pneumonia was a new thing. She recovered, and her pediatrician said it was fine for us to come down for a visit. He thought it would do both of us good.”
Shani stood with the earpieces of her stethoscope in her hands. “What about Samantha’s father? Where is he?”
Karina’s eyes filled with tears again.
“I’m sorry,” Shani said.
“No. It’s okay. He was killed, last May. In Iraq.”
Shani whispered, “Samuel Johnson?” Her knees grew weak and her mouth dry. “The eleventh of May?”
Karina’s face contorted with what looked like pain. “How do you know that?”
Shani put her hand her chest. “My husband is Joel Beck. He was injured that day too.”
“Samuel’s sergeant?”
Shani nodded.
Karina swiped at her eyes. “How is he?”
Shani hesitated and then said, “He’s recovering.”
“I hear from Charlie McCall every once in a while,” Karina said. “He calls to check up on us.”
Shani’s heart contracted. If only Joel had called her as well. “Charlie’s coming down tonight. Could I tell him you’re here?”
Karina nodded. “I’d like that.”
Shani reached for her hand. She hadn’t gone to Samuel’s funeral, and of course Joel hadn’t either. They’d both been in Germany. When they got back from Texas, she’d asked Joel a couple of times if he wanted to visit Samuel’s wife and see the baby, but he’d said no, without any more of an explanation.
“I’m so sorry,” Shani said. For so many things.
“I know,” Karina said. “I got the card Joel sent. That meant a lot. And Charlie’s told me about Joel. . . . I know it hasn’t been easy.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Shani wondered if she was as young as she seemed.
Shani checked on Samantha, along with Karina, as much as she could through the evening, and insisted Karina take a break and go down to the cafeteria to eat a proper meal. “You’re nursing,” Shani said. “You have to take care of yourself.”
When she came in at the end of the shift, Karina was in the recliner with a blanket covering her. “Tell Joel hello,” Karina said. “We never met, but Samuel spoke highly of him. I’d like to meet him someday.”
“I’ll tell him,” Shani said. “He’s back in his wheelchair—and not getting out much.”
“I’m sorry,” Karina said.
Shani shook her head and tried to say it was nothing compared to what Karina had been through but choked on the words.
Karina’s eyes were full of kindness. “When is your baby due?”
“The end of January,” Shani answered. “He’s a furlough baby.” As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. Karina probably could have done the math on her own.
“I’d like to keep in touch,” Shani said, “to see you and Samantha again sometime.”
“She’ll be okay, right?”
Shani nodded. “Depending on the test results, you should be headed home tomorrow or Sunday. You’ll want to stay with your in-laws for a few days. Do you h
ave a good relationship with them?”
Karina nodded. “They weren’t happy when Samuel and I married. They’re . . . pretty conservative. Religious, you know?”
Shani nodded.
“I didn’t grow up that way. And Samuel is—was.” Karina took a deep breath.
“You don’t need to go on,” Shani said.
Karina shook her head. “I’m okay,” she said. “He was their only child. We met our first year of college and got married young—at twenty. When he joined the Army, it was too much for them. And they didn’t see him . . . us much.”
She made eye contact with Shani. “But they’ve been good to me since . . . They’d do anything to help. Samantha is all they have left.”
Shani gave the young woman a hug, thankful for the support she had. “I’ll stay in touch.”
“Thank you,” Karina said. “I’d like that.”
As Shani drove home, she contemplated telling Joel that little Samantha was on her ward. If she did tell him, he would worry Samuel’s daughter might die as well. But how could she not? She’d ask Charlie what she should do. Hopefully he’d still be awake.
The night had turned clear and cold. She parked on the other side of Charlie’s truck and hurried through the front door. The TV was on but no other light. She squinted to see if anyone was up. Zane was sprawled out on the couch, and Joel dozed in his chair. She hung up her coat and purse, covered Zane with a blanket, and then touched Joel’s shoulder.
He turned his head toward her. “You’re home.”
She placed both hands on the handles of his chair. “Is Charlie already in bed?”
Joel yawned as he shook his head. “He’s out for a walk.”
“This late?”
Joel nodded. “He said he needed some fresh air.”
She pushed the chair toward the hallway. “What did you guys do today?”
His voice had an edge to it. “Charlie and Zane tossed a football around for a couple of hours.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. I watched them until it got too dark to see.”
Shani hurt at the thought of Joel sitting in his chair at the window as he watched them play.
23
The next morning when Charlie came down the stairs, the blanket Zane had been under last night was on the floor, and there was no sign of the boy. He was probably out doing his chores.