“Oh, poor Frannie.” Rosalee sank back against the couch. “How bad is it?”
“Mom said she can still talk, but her left side is weak and nearly unusable.” Ella glanced at me. “She asked for you.”
“For me?” My heart fell.
“Yeah. Mom wants to make sure you’re going home next week as planned. They would like for you to be Mammi’s caregiver once she gets out of the hospital. You could start the Monday after Thanksgiving.”
I swallowed hard.
“What about your aunt Klara?” I asked. “Can’t she take care of Frannie?”
“When Mammi had the stroke, she fell and Klara hurt her back trying to help her. Her doctor said she can’t lift a thing for the next month.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage to say.
“Thank goodness your recovery is going so well,” Ella said to Rosalee.
The older woman nodded as she reached for me. “I know you’ll be a blessing to Frannie too,” she said, squeezing my hand.
I felt horrible about it, but taking care of a dying Frannie Lantz was the last thing on earth I wanted to do. My face must have indicated my feelings, considering what Ella asked next.
“What’s the problem, Izzy?”
I pulled my hand away from Rosalee. “Let me think about it,” I said, feeling clammy all over. I didn’t want to be with Frannie when she died, but I couldn’t say that to Ella. She wouldn’t understand.
“I should probably talk to my parents…”
“Sure,” Ella said. “Use the phone in the bakery anytime you want.”
But it wasn’t my parents I needed to talk with. Not at all. It was Zed. He was the one who helped me see things clearly.
“Let me know your decision as soon as possible so I can call Mom.” Ella headed toward the kitchen and I followed. I assumed she needed to get back to the bakery, but instead she told me she was running to the store and asked if I needed anything.
“The store?” I was startled by the abrupt change. Wasn’t she upset? If it were my grandmother who had just had a stroke, shopping would be last thing I would be doing. Then again, Ella was a far more practical person than I.
“My supply shipment doesn’t come until Tuesday, but I’m nearly out of cinnamon and cornstarch. Luke’s going to watch the bakery while Penny takes me.” She retrieved her cape and pulled it on, but I could tell she didn’t really want to go.
“I could go for you,” I said, seeing an opportunity.
“Would you?”
“That way I can pick up some snacks for the trip home,” I said, feeling a little guilty about the plan that was developing in my head. I thought Penny would be game to help me. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.
A half hour later, Penny and I headed down the lane, away from the bakery.
“Any chance we could go to the grocery store in Goshen instead of the one in Nappanee?” I asked.
She glanced at me. “Why?”
My face grew warm and I couldn’t manage to say the spiel I’d prepared. We reached the main road, and she came to a complete stop. “Would this have anything to do with a certain young man?”
I nodded.
“Well, in that case…” She turned her blinker on to the right instead of the left and pulled out. “I’m happy to accommodate you. I always enjoy visiting grocery stores—and colleges.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“No problem.” As she drove, Penny chatted away, avoiding the subject of me and Zed and focusing on Ella and Luke and the bakery instead.
We stopped at the store first, and I quickly found Ella’s cinnamon and cornstarch, and then I chose a couple of oranges and a box of crackers for myself for the trip home. I knew there was some leftover meat from last night’s roast back at the Home Place, so I decided I would use that to make a sandwich in the morning, and take a couple of their apples too.
I couldn’t tell Penny how to get to Goshen College, so she looked it up in her GPS and followed the instructions it gave to her out loud. By the time we arrived, it was 2:30 in the afternoon. I had no idea where to look for Zed. As she turned on to the campus, I was overcome with anxiety. I didn’t know which room was his, and even if I did, I couldn’t go down his hall. How would I find him? I’d have to ask someone. And what if he wasn’t there?
I didn’t know where else to look except the library. What if he’d gone out with friends or something? Could he be off in some gym, playing a pickup game of basketball?
Not wanting Penny to witness my dilemma, I suggested she wait in her car in the parking lot. I climbed out quickly, straightened my kapp as I walked, and headed for the front door of Zed’s dorm.
The bright afternoon sunshine bounced off the metal trim of the building. A window slammed shut on the second floor. A horn honked in the distance.
Please let me find him, I prayed silently.
I stopped a few feet from the door as movement caught my eye, off in the distance to my left. I looked over, startled to see Zed standing there. He was with Shelly, and they were gazing toward what looked like a dormant garden. They seemed to be deeply engrossed in conversation, and when he slightly turned, I realized why. He was holding his arms out in front of them, his fingers forming a square, framing for her the scene before them. I could imagine it in his film, maybe as a plot of land behind the Indian cabins.
The sound of No! welled up from deep within me, so powerful and visceral I thought it had exploded out—but then I realized I hadn’t made a sound. I tried to breathe. That was our pose, what he was doing the moment I realized I loved him.
I finally managed to draw in a breath of air. It wasn’t as if they were doing anything wrong. I hadn’t caught them kissing. Or even holding hands. And yet, to me, this seemed far more intimate.
They stood so close. He listened intently to what she said. She leaned toward him.
Then she placed her hand on his arm. Could she feel his muscles? His heat? Did he smell as good as he did that day he showed me the tumbledown cabins? Like sandalwood?
Shelly smiled up at him. Was she falling in love with him at that very moment, just as I had?
Worse, was that what he wanted?
I needed to leave, right then, but just as I was about to turn and go, Zed looked my way.
“Izzy? What are you doing here?”
I forced myself to wave.
He started jogging toward me. Shelly sauntered after him. I put one foot in front of the other, meeting him, trying my best to focus on why I’d come, determined to mask my dismay at what I’d just witnessed.
I started to explain about his grandmother, but he stopped me, saying he already knew. His mom had called earlier to tell him.
Shelly stopped beside him, not saying a word. I kept talking, passing on all the information Ella had given me.
“So you’re going to take care of Mammi?” Zed asked me.
“I’m not sure,” I said, still wanting to have his advice on the matter but unwilling to ask for it in front of Shelly.
“My car’s doing better. I should go home too. We can ride together.” He turned toward his dorm. “I just need to check my work schedule first.”
Walking backward, he said, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I expected Shelly to follow him—or at least leave—but she didn’t. She just stood there, and then once he was inside the building and the door had swung to a close, she turned and stepped closer to me.
“I know what you really want,” she said, her voice quiet. “But you had your chance. It’s my turn now.”
My earlier devastation came flooding back. She was beautiful. She was determined. Besides, I’d seen them framing the shot. I’d witnessed what they had together.
“I have to go,” I mumbled. “Tell Zed never mind. I’ll take the bus home instead.”
Once I was in the car, God bless her, Penny didn’t ask me a single question about what had just happened. She did try a little uncomfortable small talk at first, but I was so unrespon
sive that she finally gave up and drove in silence.
The car was quiet, but the noise in my head was louder than a threshing machine. I couldn’t believe Shelly would be that blunt. I would never dream of acting so arrogantly.
But she was beautiful. And clearly an active part of Zed’s world.
What had made me think I could keep his interest when I was an uneducated, Plainly garbed Amish girl from back home? I could never compete with fancy makeup, modern clothes, and sexy hair. What value did natural beauty have when compared to a glitzy package? Shelly was like a bolt of fine silk, while I was a dusty old roll of burlap.
When we reached the bakery, I thanked Penny sincerely, gathered my bag, and told her goodbye, hoping she wouldn’t follow me in. She didn’t.
I slipped into the bakery and moved to the back room, putting Ella’s things on the counter. Then I headed back out the front door as all the while Ella waited on an Englisch customer who seemed to be buying her out of her pies.
I headed up to the house. When I entered, it was blessedly quiet. I put my things away and then found Rosalee dozing in the living room by a dwindling fire.
After stoking it, I sank down on the stool and gazed at the flames as my mind went back to Zed. And Shelly.
“Oh, you’re back.” Rosalee raised her head.
“Ya,” I answered softly.
“Something’s wrong.”
My eyes stung with tears.
“Izzy.” Tenderness filled her voice. “Are you all right?”
I took a deep breath and blinked. “I saw Zed, that’s all.” I didn’t want to give her details. Thankfully, she didn’t ask.
She offered me comfort, though, saying, “Don’t worry. If it’s meant to be, it’ll all work out.”
Her words surprised me. “Are you encouraging a relationship?”
She hesitated, though from the slight smile on her face, it seemed as if that was exactly what she was doing.
“But why?” I pressed. “What about our different churches?”
Rosalee’s eyes warmed even more. “A few years ago I wouldn’t have felt this way, but that was prior to Luke and Ella. Since then, I’ve realized God can work miracles in an obedient heart if the man and woman involved love the Lord and are determined to seek His will in the matter and not their own.”
That was quite the speech for Rosalee. I thanked her. It was what I thought too—or at least had thought, back when Zed and I still had a chance.
“Now,” she said, grasping the handles of her walker. “I’m going to take myself down the hall to the bathroom.” She stood. “I can’t tell you what a joy it is to be independent again.”
I could only imagine.
When Ella came back up to the house, I told her I thought I’d go ahead and leave on Monday instead of Tuesday so I’d have another day to help my mamm get ready for Thanksgiving. “If you don’t mind,” I added. Of course, the main reason I was leaving a day early was simply to get as far away from Zed as possible—or at least from the pain of having to see him in his new world.
“No problem. We can get you to the bus station then.” Ella leaned against the kitchen counter, seeming tired. “Zed called, by the way. He said you’d stopped by the college earlier but then just disappeared. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I answered, my heart sinking. “Penny took me there after we went to the store. I went to say goodbye, but it was just too hard, so I left. And he was tied up with things anyway.”
Ella nodded toward the back door. “I told him I’d have you call him back.”
That was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Go on,” she prodded. “Then I could use some help with supper.”
Reluctantly I did as she said and went to use the bakery phone. I was hoping the call would go into Zed’s voicemail, but it didn’t. He answered almost immediately.
“Ella?”
“Izzy.”
“Izzy! What happened? I came out and Shelly said you’d left in a hurry.”
“I decided to take the bus after all,” I mumbled. “It’s just easier that way, and Ella’s all set to get me to the station.”
“That’s fine, but why did you leave like that? You didn’t even say goodbye.”
As I tried to come up with an explanation that would suffice, Zed’s voice softened. “It’s Mammi, isn’t it? You’re so worried that what happened with Verna is going to happen again, aren’t you?”
That was true, but it certainly wasn’t why I left…
“I hope you’ll dig deep and take the job anyway,” he continued, oblivious. “I would give anything to see her cared for in her final days as lovingly as you cared for my father.” I could hear his breath through the phone. “Izzy, you have a gift, and God wants you to use it.”
His words touched me, truly, and my hurt began to melt away.
“Listen,” he said. “You think about it. I need to get going for now. Shelly’s here to help me study for a big exam we have on Monday, but I’ll check back with you tomorrow if I can.”
“Oh,” I muttered, the weight of my earlier sadness falling on me anew.
“I guess I won’t try to get home for Thanksgiving myself,” he added. “With the car problems and all…” I didn’t hear the rest of what he had to say. Just the final farewell, which I managed to mimic back to him as I hung up the phone.
Somehow I made it through helping Ella with supper and cleaning up, and then assisting Rosalee, although very little, with her bedtime routine. I went to my room immediately afterward. I tried to pray, telling God I’d rather be a piece of burlap woven by Him than the finest silk cut by the world, but I wasn’t sure I believed it, at least not in that moment.
The next morning was the Sabbath, but because it was a no-church day, we relaxed, something both Ella and Luke sorely needed. Rosalee, however, was feeling antsy, so finally Luke offered to drive her to the home of a good friend of hers in the next district over so they could visit.
Her face lit up. “Danke,” she said. “This cabin fever is really getting to me.”
Once they left, Ella gave me the bus schedule and my final paycheck for the care of Rosalee. Then she asked me if I’d made a decision about caring for her grandmother.
I exhaled, slowly.
“I don’t mean to be pushy, Izzy, but you’re so great at caregiving, not just with Rosalee, but with my father too. I remember how wonderful you were with him.” She sounded just like Zed. “I don’t know what Mom would have done without you. Honestly, it was a tremendous comfort to all of us.”
I decided it wouldn’t hurt to open up to Ella as we sat at the table, having a cup of tea. Summoning my nerve, I told her about my fear of death, of how I’d reacted after my patient in the care center passed away—and then that I’d done the same thing when Verna died. “Zed and I decided that it’s all related to my grandmother dying when I was a little girl,” I said. “Her death took me by complete surprise, and I think I’ve been reacting to that ever since. It’s almost getting to be like a phobia.”
Ella headed to the stove with her mug. “Sure sounds like a phobia to me. Though I have to wonder about the cause…” She paused, refilling her mug with hot water before she continued. “Have you reacted this way ever since your grandmother’s death?”
I thought about that for a moment. “I don’t think so. I lost a great-uncle about five years ago, and while that was sad, I didn’t come unhinged.” I looked at her. “Even when your father died, I didn’t fall apart. There was something about his final days that had been so peaceful, you know? So healing to everyone.”
Ella nodded. “My mom’s forgiveness for all he’d done made that a time of reconciliation rather than just grief.”
I nodded. “It was after that, I guess. With Phyllis at the senior home. She was there one day, and then she was gone the next. It was shocking.”
“I can imagine,” Ella said, turning toward me and resting her back against the counter as she sipped her tea.
&nbs
p; “That whole day I just kept thinking that life is so random, so unpredictable.” My face colored, as I knew such words were practically blasphemous. “I know God is in control, and that nothing happens outside of His will. But her death reminded me that—” I clapped my hands together as I barked out, “Crash!”
“Crash?”
“Like, boom, like, wham, like anything can happen, out of the blue, at any moment—and then someone dear is simply lost to you forever.”
Ella peered at me over her mug.
“Interesting choice of words, crash,” she said. “Brings to mind…Zed’s accident.”
My eyes widened. Zed’s accident had been one of the great traumas of my life. It had happened more than three years ago when I was caring for Freddy in his last days and Zed and I were first growing close. I was in the cottage with Freddy, waiting for Zed to get home on the bus. Then I heard tires screeching outside, followed by a thick, sickening thud, the sound of the impact.
Somehow, I knew in that moment it was Zed. Leaving Freddy alone, I dashed out of the house and to the road. Sure enough, there he was, sprawled out on the pavement, the car stopped, the distraught driver climbing from his seat.
I reached Zed first, fearing the worst, and pulled his head onto my lap—an action that I later learned could have been as fatal to someone with a head and neck injury as the impact itself. I thanked the Lord every day that it hadn’t been.
Sitting here now, it was as though I were reliving that moment. I gripped the edge of the table with both hands, remembering. In the hospital, I’d acted brave for Zed’s sake, even though I’d been so afraid.
Do not fear, was what Jesus had said over and over.
But I did fear. I feared like I had never feared before. I feared I would lose the kindest, sweetest, smartest, funniest friend I’d ever had. I feared that this young man who was so full of life would die.
“Do not be afraid,” I whispered. But how?
“Izzy?” Ella was back in her chair, leaning forward, her hands flat on the table in front of her.
“You’re right,” I said, stunned. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. Phyllis’s death was so random, just like Zed’s accident was so random.” I looked at her, my eyes wide. “I know I’m a worrier by nature, but this has to be when things took a turn for me. I see it now. This isn’t just a phobia of death. It’s a lack of faith, of trust.”
The Amish Seamstress Page 20