Big Decisions

by Linda Byler

  “I guess. We’re going to have to write a bunch of postcards and make a pile of phone calls.”

  Stephen’s mom bustled out to the van to congratulate Dat and Mam, and Lizzie stepped closer to Stephen, putting a hand on his arm. “Stephen, I feel so bad about all this. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right, Lizzie. Really. She couldn’t help it. At least we’re still getting married, and you’re not here to tell me you decided against it.”

  He looked down at her with so much love shining from his blue eyes that quick tears sprang to Lizzie’s own.

  “I would never decide against it. You know that.”

  She hurried out to the van as Stephen’s mother stepped back, and Lizzie and her family were on their way to the large hospital in Falling Springs.

  KatieAnn and Susan’s eyes grew very large at the sensation the climbing elevator gave them. When it clunked to a stop on the fifth floor, they both suppressed their giggles. Mam was in a fine tizzy. Two bright red spots appeared on her cheeks, and her nostrils flared the way they always did when her excitement ran high. She hustled the twins off the elevator and into the waiting room, giving Jason quiet orders to stay with them until the rest of them found Mandy’s room.

  “We could stay here by ourselves,” KatieAnn snapped, shrugging off Jason’s hand from her shoulder. Jason laughed and steered the twins toward a set of chairs.

  Lizzie smiled to herself as she walked down the hallway to find Mandy’s room. She was surprisingly nervous. Would Mandy look the same? Would she be awake? Was she in pain? How would she react to being the mother of twins at such a young age?

  “There it is,” Mam said much too loudly. Mam always spoke loudly when she was nervous or agitated, but nobody told her to quiet down. Dat winked at Lizzie. Hospitals put them all a little on edge ever since Mam’s long stay several years earlier when she had pneumonia. Lizzie smiled at Dat, glad that they had a happy reason for visiting the hospital this time.

  Lizzie followed Dat and Mam into the room. There was Mandy, lying sound asleep in an elevated hospital bed, her head sagging a wee bit to one side. The curtains were drawn, casting a quiet evening shadow across the room. There were no babies in sight.

  Mam walked up to Mandy’s bedside, and Mandy’s eyes flew open in an instant. “Mam!” she exclaimed and then burst into tears as Mam hugged and hugged her, fussing like Lizzie had never heard her.

  “Honestly, Mandy. Ach, my. Dess iss net chide,” she kept saying, laughing and gasping while tears rolled down her cheeks. Dat kept wiping his eyes, and Lizzie hugged Mandy, becoming quite undone as she tried to congratulate her.

  “Where’s John?” she finally asked.

  “He went home to milk the cows and change clothes. He should be in soon,” Mandy said in a soft voice.

  When everyone calmed down, Mandy grinned mischievously at Lizzie and announced, “So, my twins and I thoroughly messed up your wedding plans!”

  “You would do that to me, wouldn’t you?” Lizzie grinned back. Knowing how well Stephen had accepted this made things much easier for Lizzie. What were a few weeks to wait if they could spend the rest of their lives together?

  They all walked to the nursery and peered through the glass at the tiny cribs containing the smallest babies Lizzie had ever seen. There were white cards put in a holder that only said “Zook,” so they didn’t know what their names were. They hadn’t even thought to ask Mandy.

  The twins weighed almost five pounds each, although Lizzie had a hard time believing this. They were so skinny! Their little hands looked too fragile to be real, and their faces were actually almost gaunt. Mam said that was because they were born prematurely and weren’t filled out yet.

  Lizzie could not imagine being the mother of those tiny, fragile, little human beings. It would be too much responsibility for her. She could never do it. She knew she couldn’t. She became very quiet and sober, pitying Mandy so intensely she could barely make herself go back to her room.

  When they got back, John had arrived, greeting them all with so much genuine warmth and enthusiasm. There were tears in his brown eyes.

  “Congratulations!” Dat said, beaming warmly.

  “Thanks. Thanks. Isn’t it something though?” John answered.

  “Their names, Mandy! We forgot to ask their names,” Mam gushed.

  “Sarah and Sylvia!” Mandy announced happily.

  Everyone talked and exclaimed about the birth of these tiny twins, but Lizzie sat on the wide window ledge and became steadily depressed, thinking about being a mother to two tiny babies all at once. What in the world would Mandy do if they both cried at the same time during the night and there was no one to help her, especially if John was out milking cows? What if they were both hungry? How could she feed two at once?

  Like a soft, stifling vapor, the thoughts of inadequacy enveloped her until all the bright, happy moments from just a few minutes earlier were obliterated. She stared at the floor, chewing her lip and scuffing the toe of her shoe against the nightstand. She wasn’t completely sure she was normal where babies were concerned. They quite simply gave her a sense of helplessness, of weary, endless responsibility.

  Did you ever want babies? Was it normal to get the blues about having babies? She shrugged her shoulders, shaking off the feelings of despair, and decided she was just tired and struggling to accept this sudden change in plans. Of course, she wanted babies, and, of course, she would be a good mother. Anyone that could teach a roomful of children and thoroughly enjoy it could surely take care of one harmless little baby.

  Mandy and John brought the twins home the following Friday, and Lizzie was there to greet them on their arrival. She had hustled and bustled, cleaning every corner of Mandy’s small house, doing the laundry and raking some of the lawn that was strewn with maple leaves. Mam brought another small crib, and they set them up side by side in the living room. They fussed with and arranged the tiny baby clothes, sleepers, tiny socks, and T-shirts. Lizzie loved the smell of the baby lotions and powders, spreading some on her arm to keep the scent close by.

  “See, Mam, it wouldn’t be so bad if you had one baby at a time. I do love babies, honestly, I do, and, of course, I want children after I’m married. It’s just that I can’t see how in the world Mandy is going to manage,” she said worriedly.

  Mam shook her head wisely. “Well, let me tell you, Lizzie, having a baby is more than a woolly pink blanket. Indeed it is. But I so love babies, and I thoroughly enjoyed the twins. I’m hoping Mandy will feel the same way. No doubt, two babies are a big responsibility, but I enjoyed every minute.”

  Lizzie watched Mam in amazement, thinking how capable and courageous she really was. Everything that happened in her life, she took in stride. She made the best out of each situation. Moving, old farms, sicknesses, twins, whatever, Mam always stayed the same. She just marched up each hill as it was presented, in her high-strung, take-charge kind of way. That is just how Mam was. Lizzie wished with all her heart she could be more like her.

  As if Mam read her mind, she stopped folding the snowy white diapers and said, “See, Lizzie, you think too much. You’re always supposing this or supposing that about the future, making yourself extremely anxious when it is absolutely unnecessary. You should learn to place your trust in God and not in your own power. If God thinks you’re capable of managing a pair of twins, he’ll give you a pair.”

  Lizzie dropped a tiny T-shirt. “Mam!”

  Mam looked up, surprised. Seeing the expression on Lizzie’s face, she burst out laughing, a real deep laugh that shook her stomach.

  “It’s not funny!” Lizzie burst out, which only increased Mam’s mirth.

  “Oh, my! Yes, it is funny.”

  “Mam, seriously, what are the chances of me ever having twins? How many daughters, I mean, genetically, have a pair of twins if their mothers have some. I don’t ever, ever want two babies at one time. Surely God knows that. Should I pray not to have twins?” Lizzie asked anxiously.

&nb
sp; “I don’t know,” Mam chuckled. “As long as I can remember, from the time I was a little girl, I prayed for twin girls.”

  “Whatever for?” Lizzie asked incredulously.

  “Oh, I wanted them. Here they come!” she said all in the same breath. Lizzie ran to the window just in time to see the van pull up to the sidewalk. John bent his head to pay the driver, and Mam and Lizzie hurried out to Mandy and the babies.

  Mandy looked pale and tired, but she smiled happily when she saw Mam. Lizzie climbed up to receive one of the babies. It felt as if almost nothing was in the blanket, the baby was so tiny. For a moment, Lizzie panicked, worrying which end of the blanket held the head and which the feet. She lifted a corner of the blanket, and sure enough, she had the wrong end up! Glancing hastily at Mandy, hoping she wouldn’t see, she switched ends, hurrying into the kitchen, red-faced. See? That just proved how hopelessly inadequate she was with babies.

  There wasn’t much time to think about that, with getting Mandy settled on the sofa and finding a cool, clean white sheet and pillow for her. John was hungry, and it was getting close to milking time, so Mam hurried around the kitchen, fixing toasted ham and cheese sandwiches and tomato soup while Lizzie unpacked the accumulation of things from the hospital.

  The twins just slept. That’s all they ever did, Mandy said, because they were born so early, and that’s what premature babies did.

  Lizzie sat in the rocking chair opposite Mandy’s sofa and marveled at her good spirits and her calm demeanor. She didn’t seem nervous that her twins just slept and that sometimes she could hardly waken them when it was time for a feeding.

  “The nurses in the hospital were a great help. Sometimes they had to take their sleepers off so they’d cool off and wake up. They showed me lots of ways to rouse them out of their deep sleep when their feeding time comes.”

  Her voice became quieter and quieter and, to Lizzie’s astonishment, Mandy drifted off to sleep. Imagine, she thought. How could a person be so relaxed after bringing home two babies to care for? What Lizzie didn’t know was how utterly exhausted Mandy really was. There was not much time for sleep in a hospital with all the IV lines, the checkups, and tests. They had no mercy on a sleepy young mother.

  So Lizzie rocked all by herself as Mam and John had supper. She was hungry, but her wedding was only a few weeks away, so it was high time to lose some weight. She watched Mandy’s pretty face, her eyes perfect half-moons in sleep, and hoped with all her heart she would remain strong and optimistic as she accepted this major responsibility.

  Suddenly, a high-pitched squeak pierced the air, and Lizzie jumped straight out of her rocking chair. “What was that?” she cried.

  Mam turned to look at Lizzie, saw one little bundle in the crib moving, and burst out laughing. There was another high-pitched squeal, and Mam laughed until she had to get out her handkerchief and wipe her eyes. John’s laugh rang out, and Mandy’s eyes fluttered open, followed by a smile when she heard everyone laugh.

  “One of the babies is awake,” Mam said, coming over to the crib and lifting her out. Bending her head, she cooed and fussed, saying all kinds of things to this tiny infant who, Lizzie was sure, could not understand a word she said.

  “What? What’s wrong with my little girlie? Huh? Do you need a clean diaper? I bet you do! Little squirrel. You know, Mandy, they look like little squirrels with their thin faces,” she said, misty-eyed with love for these tiny babies.

  Lizzie still felt weak from her scare. Watching Mam with narrowed eyes, she wondered how a mother and daughter could be so completely opposite. She guessed she would just have to charge into marriage like Mam did and trust God about babies.

  Chapter 12

  THE FOURTEENTH OF DECEMBER dawned bright, clear, and cold. Of course, the entire Glick household had been awake long before dawn, because this was Stephen and Lizzie’s wedding day.

  Lizzie was upstairs, her hands clammy with nervous perspiration as she tried to pin her white organdy cape perfectly. Her royal blue dress had been made to perfection, but her difficulty with putting on an organdy cape sure never changed, wedding day or not.

  Stephen knocked on the door of her room, then came in to have his bow tie adjusted, just as she finally put the last pin into her cape. She forgot all about her frustration, catching sight of Stephen, her handsome husband-to-be. Doesn’t he look so good? she sighed to herself. His tanned face was cleanshaven, his streaky brown-blond hair cut and combed neatly, and he was wearing his new black suit with a crisp white shirt which set off his dark skin.

  Lizzie reached up to secure the bow, straightening his collar a bit, as he watched her face intently.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes. Actually, more nervous than I thought I would be. Are you?”

  He laughed a bit ruefully. “Afraid so.”

  “Just be glad you don’t need to pin on a white cape and apron.”

  Stephen came over to stand beside her, telling her she had nothing to worry about—that she looked lovely just the way she was. “You are just perfect, Lizzie,” he said soberly. “I feel like a very lucky—no, blessed—young man today.”

  Lizzie didn’t say anything; she just let her eyes tell him what was in her heart. If she ever had any doubts at all, they were completely banished on this morning of their wedding day. She understood deep insidethe exact meaning of “meant-to-be,” the rock-solid assurance that this day, this time in her life, was where God wanted her to be.

  Emma dashed up the stairs, her cheeks pink with excitement. “Hey, you two. Mam says you’re supposed to be down in the kitchen sitting on that bench in 15 minutes.”

  “Oh, dear!” Lizzie whirled around to grab her white apron from the bed.

  “Emma!” she hollered. “You have to help me with my apron.”

  Rolling her eyes at Stephen, Emma came in and began adjusting the apron for Lizzie. Joshua and Emma had come from Allen County the previous day to help on the risht-dawg, the day of preparation before an Amish wedding, just as they had done for Mandy.

  Baby Mark toddled around and squealed with excitement most of the day until he wore himself out completely, falling asleep on a corner of the couch in the dining room. The whole house had been in a frightful uproar, same as the previous weddings, but Mam seemed a bit more unruffled, not quite as upset about things, as this was, after all, her third wedding.

  Dat was always the same at wedding time. He loved it, thriving on the action and the attention from relatives on both sides, but most of all, he loved the singing. He would always lead quite a few songs on the day his daughters were married, just for the pure joy of “getting the singing going real well.”

  Mam and Lizzie hardly argued or disagreed on anything. Mam was much calmer, and Lizzie wasn’t particular about little details, like who was invited, or how many of the youth were included, or what kind of pies they served.

  Aunt Vera made mountains of date pudding at home in Ohio, bringing it all the way to Pennsylvania with buckets of whipped topping for the big day. Date pudding was Lizzie’s favorite dessert, ever since she had first tasted it as a little girl in Ohio. It was a soft, moist cake baked with dates and nuts, then cut into tiny squares and layered with a caramel sauce and whipped topping. It was rich and creamy with a nutty texture that was simply delicious. They served it on every table throughout the house, with small squares of red and green Jell-O on top, because their wedding was so close to Christmas.

  Lizzie’s room soon filled up as the remainder of the bridal party moved over from the adjoining room. During the wedding, Jason would sit with Rebecca, and Daniel would sit with Lizzie’s cousin Esther, who, along with Lizzie’s sisters and their husbands, made up the six individuals who would be the honored guests.

  “Hold still, Lizzie; I mean it,” Emma hissed around a straight pin in her mouth.

  “Get that pin out of your mouth, Emma!” Lizzie hissed back.

  Emma straightened up, giving the smooth white belt an extra pat and s
aid, “There!”

  Lizzie stepped up to the mirror, surveying the finished attire, her eyes wide with apprehension.

  “Do … I … I … Does it look all right? Emma, you made a nice covering for my wedding day. Thank you. You are a dear. Honest.”

  “You look lovely, Lizzie, and I’m glad you like the covering, because I sure went to enough pains with it. I must have opened and redone that one side three times.”

  “Ready?” Stephen asked.

  Lizzie looked around her room wildly. “Where are the decorative throw pillows for my bed?” she asked.

  Jason produced them from behind his back, grinning, and Lizzie pounced on them, arranging them carefully, making certain everything looked just right.

  “Do we remember who goes first?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Jason said airily, and they all filed solemnly down the stairs and sat side by side with their backs against the stairway wall, as straight as stickmen on a hard wooden bench in the kitchen.

  Suddenly Lizzie thought she would be sick to her stomach from sheer nervousness. The house was already full of people, and every minute another horse and buggy or van load of people arrived. Where would they all sit? Suppose there was not enough room for everyone? Maybe this would actually be the first wedding the Amish people could remember that didn’t have enough seating space. People would talk about it for 50 years. Like the story of the bride who changed her mind at the last minute and would not join her groom to stand in front of the minister to be married. The minister asked if there was anyone else in the room who would marry this man, and the bride’s sister got up and married him, and they lived happily ever after. Was that really true? No one seemed to know who these people were, so Lizzie always doubted the story.

  Why did she sit here on her wedding day, thinking all these ridiculous thoughts? She was so nervous this minute that she felt like crying. She wished she could hold Stephen’s hand for comfort, but then she was so clammy with sweat he probably wouldn’t want to hold her hand. This was awful.