Love Rekindled

by Serena B. Miller

  For the first time since she’d started college, her carefully-hidden, hardscrabble personality took over.

  “Here, hold this.” She shoved her Starbucks coffee cup into Jeff’s hand.

  He was surprised, but he held onto it.

  Then she opened her briefcase, held it above her head, turned it upside down and shook all her carefully-organized files onto the floor. Papers and legal documents flew everywhere.

  “May I have my coffee back now?” she asked, sweetly.

  Stunned by what she’d just done, Jeff handed it to her.

  She took the cap off her still-full cup of Starbucks and poured it all over the contents of her briefcase. In doing so, she destroyed approximately ninety hours of work.

  Feeling slightly better, she cheerfully motioned the other security guard to follow her.

  “Come on, Larry, I’m not mad at you,” she said. “My car is not far.”

  Knowing that Bradley—that coward—was no doubt watching the security cameras to see how she would react, she made a rude gesture with both hands as she turned to leave, and she maintained that gesture until she knew Bradley could no longer see her.

  Chapter 36

  The supper dishes were washed and put away. The linoleum floor swept. The fire in the woodstove was banked and giving off a constant, comforting heat. It was so silent in Keturah’s old kitchen that she could almost hear the snowflakes landing on the glass of the kitchen windows.

  It was a church Sunday for her and her family. They had just gotten back from having services in a young couple’s workshop so newly built that it still smelled of freshly-sawed wood.

  She was seated in the rocking chair in which she had rocked her three sons. It was the same rocking chair in which her mother-in-law had rocked baby Ivan nearly seventy years ago.

  Seventy years. Time passed so swiftly. One of the pieces of wisdom that age brought—and could never be taught to the young—was how quickly it all went and how important it was not to squander a minute.

  The minutes that ticked away as she rocked the little Christmas baby were not squandered. Snuggling this newborn was something she savored. Did the need to nurture a baby, for women who knew what it was to love a baby, ever go away? She thought not. But this one was special. This was the one whom she had saved. This was the one whose flickering flame of life she had personally kept from being snuffed out.

  What great things did this baby girl have in front of her to do? Had her little life been saved for a special reason? Keturah would never know. What she did know was that she did not believe it had been a coincidence that she had been on that road at that specific moment in time. Or that she had felt compelled to purchase such a fine razor for Ivan and hide it in her midwife bag. Or that she had known enough of mothers and babies that she was able to bring the baby into this world without damage.

  Ah, look at that. The little thing was sucking her thumb again. Was there anything more precious?

  “Where is John?” Ivan walked into the kitchen. “He was going to help me with the evening milking before he went home.”

  “John took Agnes and the children out to the woodshed to see the new puppies that Bonnie had last night. Noah just found them.”

  “Bonnie had puppies?” Ivan said. “I did not expect them so soon. Did you help her?”

  “No,” Keturah said. “Apparently she had everything under control.”

  “We are blessed by being surrounded by so much new life at our age,” Ivan gazed down at the baby Keturah held in her arms. “Look at this little one. Only six days old. It takes me back.”

  “It takes me back too,” Keturah said. “But from what Bertha’s Rachel has said, I don’t think the baby’s father is a good man, or even a kind one. I can’t stand to think of placing her in the arms of someone who won’t love and care for her, Ivan.”

  “Nor can I, but there is nothing we can do. We have no control. The law is the law. You know that.”

  “Is it?” Keturah asked.

  Ivan was surprised at her question. He sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. “What are you thinking?”

  “There is a greater law than the one you are talking about,” she said. “Do you agree?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Would we be obeying that greater law if we gave this baby over to people who will not care for her or who might possibly even hurt her?”

  “Probably not,” Ivan said.

  “Have you noticed that she looks like just another little Amish baby lying here in my arms?” Keturah smoothed the tiny strings on the baby’s white kapp. “I don’t think an Englisch person could ever tell the difference. Not even her own father. He’s never even seen her and babies change so much from one day to the next when they are this young.”

  “One could spend time in jail for doing what you’re thinking, Keturah,” he warned.

  She shrugged. “When have our people ever been fearful of jail when it comes to doing God’s will?”

  “That’s the problem, Keturah. How will you know for certain you are doing God’s will? We do not know this man, her father. We do not know his heart.”

  “Bertha’s Rachel tells me that he is not sure if he wants her, and so now we have to wait to see what he decides.” Keturah held the baby a little closer. “What kind of father does not want his own child the moment he learns that her heart still beats? A good man would rush to see her at once. This father did not. Agnes and I have discussed this problem at length. We are very worried. How can we bear to give this precious little soul up to such a man?”

  “Perhaps he is not really a bad man,” Ivan said. “Perhaps he is just young and unsure of his ability to give her a good home.”

  “And perhaps this baby girl came into my hands for safe keeping. Perhaps God knew that she would need my protection. All of our protection.”

  “I would like to discuss this with Bishop Yost,” Ivan said. “It does not matter how pure our motives. If we are forced to hide the child among us to protect her, it will affect our whole church. This is not a decision we can make alone.”

  “Do not take this to Bishop Yost quite yet,” Keturah said. “For now we pray that God has a better plan than the one I’m thinking.”

  “That is a good idea,” Ivan said. “But for now, while you pray for God’s wisdom, I will go help my grandchildren enjoy the treasure of new puppies.”

  Chapter 37

  Michael, the only child of a widowed mother, had always wanted a large family when he grew up. At least four children. Maybe more if his wife was willing. Cassie was an only child too. Before they got married, she said she also wanted children.

  Apparently, she’d either changed her mind or maybe she intended to have that family with Bradley Cooper. It hurt to even think about it.

  It looked like he was going to have to find someone else to build a family with, but the thought of going through the ritual of finding, courting, and marrying another woman did not excite him. About the only emotion he felt as he thought about it was… tired. He had loved Cassie with his whole heart and yet their marriage had ended. Adjusting to someone else seemed hardly worth the effort when he had no idea if that marriage would last either.

  Tonight was New Year’s Eve. Keturah and Ivan had not invited him over, although they would not have turned him away, but he did not want to wear out his welcome. He probably tended to go over there too much as it was.

  Still, sitting at home alone on New Year’s Eve seemed particularly pitiful. With nothing better to do, he decided to go to Joe’s Home Plate for a late supper. He had heard that they were keeping the restaurant open until past midnight tonight.

  When he got there, the place was packed, but he found one unoccupied seat in the corner where he could have a good view of the giant TV screen while he ate his meal. The TV was tuned in to the huge New York Time’s Square celebration. A hand-lettered sign below the TV announced that they were out of pie. Funny thing, he had not been thinking about pie when he entered
the restaurant, but now that he knew there was none available he wanted some.

  Even without pie, everyone at the restaurant seemed to be enjoying themselves and in a festive mood. It was not as good as having Cassie beside him like when they were still a couple, but it was a whole lot better than nothing. At least he was not completely alone.

  About ten minutes before midnight, Joe announced that everyone who wanted to was welcome to walk across the road with him and watch Sugarcreek’s famous giant cuckoo clock strike twelve. Even though everyone had seen the cuckoo clock multiple times, the restaurant immediately cleared out and Michael went with them, part of a laughing, joking crowd as they crossed the dark, deserted street and lined up on the sidewalk in front of the huge clock.

  The mayor was already positioned beside the clock and, as the crowd gathered, he began the countdown. “Ten. Nine. Eight…”

  Everyone joined in chanting the numbers. “Four. Three. Two. One…”

  There was a long silence as everyone waited. It wasn’t as dramatic as the giant silver ball dropping in Time’s Square but, sure enough, a small door in the clock opened, and a group of painted, wooden, mechanical musicians came out and began playing loud polka music while little wooden dancers spun around and around. The mayor, who was far from a young man, began dancing the polka with his wife, which inspired several of the others to dance a jig or two in the street. As soon as the short piece was over and the carved, wooden figures disappeared back into the clock, everyone shouted “Happy New Year!” and several couples kissed.

  Michael had no one to kiss, and felt the lack deeply. On a whim, he reached for his cell phone, which he usually kept in his inside coat pocket. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to just call and wish Cassie a Happy New Year.

  The phone was not there. Without waiting for the others, he ran back to the restaurant and checked the table where he’d been sitting. Sure enough, there was his cell phone. He breathed a sigh of relief, pocketed the phone, paid his bill, left a tip on the table for the high-school girl who had served him, and drove home. By the time he let himself in the front door, the desire to call Cassie had gone. After all, he still had some pride and it was very late.

  Once Cassie calmed down, she acknowledged to herself that, in some ways, getting fired was a relief. As angry as she was over the way it had been executed, at least she wouldn’t have to struggle to continue to work while enduring the surgery and all that was involved in recovery. Perhaps having that particular stress temporarily eliminated from her life might help her body recuperate a little faster.

  The abrupt way she had been fired gave her a little time to prepare for what she knew would be an ordeal. Remembering her mother’s lack of appetite and nausea, she stocked the apartment pantry and refrigerator with every nutritious and tasty thing she could think of. She even purchased several bottles of vitamin-enriched drink. It had been the only thing her mother could stomach toward the end.

  The next thing she chose to do for herself was go to a bookstore and purchase several books by popular authors. She chose books that weren’t heavy intellectually or physically. Books that would be fun to read. Books that she looked forward to reading. She also bought a dozen magazines. Easy-to-read things. Nothing political. Everything from People to Better Homes & Gardens. Just something to flip through.

  It had been years since she had allowed herself to read anything for sheer enjoyment. Knowing that she would be spending days in the apartment without going out, she made a rare stop at Walmart and purchased flannel PJs and fluffy slippers. One of the few perks about living alone was that at least she wouldn’t have to look good for anyone for a while.

  Plenty of lip promenade for the dry mouth that she knew would be part of this process, and the final preparation—the one she had been dreading—she went to her hairdresser and asked him to cut off all her hair.

  “All of it?” Her regular hairdresser, a young, black man named Diamond, was perplexed. “But you have such beautiful hair.”

  “I don’t want to deal with long hair when the chemo kicks in.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, grimly. “Cut it off.”

  She sat stoically while the hairdresser pulled her lovely, auburn hair into a ponytail with two elastic bands. Then he cut at the root of the ponytail until it all came off. He held it up, showing her its length in the mirror.

  “The people from Locks of Love would appreciate this. It would make someone a fine wig.”

  Cassie was staring at herself in the mirror. It felt strange to have the weight of all that hair off of her head. She had worn it long as far back as she could remember. Her mother had loved braiding it before she went to school each day. That was one of her good memories about her mother.

  “Give it to whomever you wish,” she said. “I don’t care.”

  The hairdresser went to get a gallon zip-lock bag to put it in. While he was gone, Cassie looked in the mirror and wrestled with herself. She knew she should ask him to simply shave it. But she wasn’t sure she could face that just yet. There would be such a long time of wearing caps and scarves to cover her baldness. She found herself longing to look somewhat normal for as long as possible.

  “Now what?” Diamond asked.

  “A pixie cut would be nice, for now.” she said. “I don’t think I can handle being completely bald quite yet.”

  “I think that’s a good plan.” Diamond held up a pair of scissors and a comb, ready to begin.

  He did the best he could and it was a good cut, but she could not hide how dismayed she was with not having her former mane of hair.

  “Oh, honey!” Diamond saw her hesitation about her reflection, and jumped in with enthusiastic encouragement. “You look so cute!”

  Cute was not a word she normally longed for, but at the moment she would take what she could get. It might be a long time before anyone thought she was cute again.

  By the time Cassie had carried her groceries, her new pajamas, and her books and magazines up to her apartment, she was tired but satisfied. It had been a long day but she had done the best she knew how to prepare.

  After putting everything away, she settled down on her balcony with a cup of tea to watch the sunset. She was hungry but, with surgery in the morning, she was not allowed to eat anything tonight. It was cold outside but, instead of going in, she put on her down coat and wrapped a blanket around her legs. She did not know how many more sunsets she had left. It could be a long lifetime, or it could be a few months.

  If she survived, she would need to go about finding another job. She supposed she should feel bad for allowing herself that temper tantrum back at the law firm, but it had felt awfully good. Deep down, she wondered if she had been wanting to do that for a long time. Would another firm hire her? Maybe. Maybe not. Bradley and his father had a lot of pull in the corporate law community. She might be waiting tables for all she knew. It was not an alien concept. That’s how she’d put herself through college.

  Shoving that thought aside, she concentrated on making plans for survival for the next few weeks. She would drive herself to her appointments for as long as possible. She would hire a taxi or Uber when she was too shaky to drive herself. The local grocery store had begun a program recently where one could order items online, and the order would be ready for curbside pickup a short time later. After the provisions she’d just purchased ran out, she would use that method to replenish her food supplies until she was well again.

  Fireworks startled her, lighting up the night sky. Car horns began to blow from down below in the street. She heard people cheering.

  She had been so sunk in her own misery, she had nearly forgotten that it was New Year’s Eve.

  What a terrible night to be alone!

  The frigid air had found its way through her coat and blanket, and she realized she was chilled. She went inside and closed and locked the sliding glass door. Then she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. It
wouldn’t hurt just to call and wish Michael a happy new year. It was a civil thing to do. She wouldn’t have to let him know that she desperately just wanted to hear his voice tonight. She would say nothing about being ill.

  The phone rang a long time. Michael always made sure it wouldn’t cut off after only two or three rings. She was so startled when a young woman’s voice answered the phone instead of Michael that she hung up immediately. Just to be sure, she checked the log on her phone to make absolutely certain she hadn’t called someone else by accident. No. It was no accident. That was Michael’s number, and some woman had answered.

  Her heart hurt at the sound of that voice. What had she expected? Of course there was a possibility that a woman would answer. After all, it was New Year’s Eve. A night when no one really wanted to be alone.

  She tried to calm her nerves by taking a hot bath. This was something she almost never did because it took more time than jumping in the shower. After she’d toweled off, she donned her soft, new, pajamas.

  Before crawling into bed, she set her alarm for 4:30 a.m. As soon as she awoke, she would shower, pack a small suitcase and have an Uber driver take her to the James Cancer Center. Even though it would be New Year’s Day, her doctor thought it critical to operate a soon as possible. He had scheduled surgery for 7:30 a.m.

  Sleep was impossible. All she could think about was Michael and how foolish she had been to lose someone she loved, just because of her job. A job that had unexpectedly been ripped out of her hands.

  Scared, sick, unemployed, lonely, and facing the biggest fight of her life, she curled into a fetal position and tried not to cry.

  Chapter 38

  Rachel was cuddled with Bobby on the couch. They were celebrating New Year’s Eve with cocoa, cookies, and an attempt to make cranes from an origami kit Santa Claus had left under the tree at Christmas. It was more advanced for Bobby’s age than she’d realized when she purchased it, but she thought maybe, with her help, he could achieve learning to create a couple of the simpler ones. It was a lot harder than it looked.