Home All Along

by Beth Wiseman

  “Well, for the sake of everything going on in our lives, I feel like I need to just let the incident with Edna go, but I don’t trust that woman.”

  “I do my best to avoid her.”

  Charlotte tucked her hair behind her ears, then touched Daniel’s arm. “And I know you want answers about us, but I don’t think this is the time to focus on that.”

  Daniel couldn’t deny that a cloud of anxiety hovered over all of them, but Charlotte seemed to have dropped the issue with Edna, so he would as well. “Everything will be okay for all of us.”

  “I know worry is a sin, but I can’t seem to control it. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Lena.” Her bottom lip trembled.

  Daniel looked down the hallway in both directions. Two nurses were staring at a computer screen behind a counter, but otherwise, it was quiet. He pulled Charlotte into his arms.

  “Nothing is going to happen to Lena.” He eased her away, glanced both ways down the corridor once more, then kissed her. “I’ve missed you.”

  She smiled a little, leaned up on her toes, and kissed him again. “I need to tell you something.”

  Daniel held his breath. “What?” He recognized the serious expression on Charlotte’s face. She squeezed her lips tightly together, and the lines on her forehead creased. Maybe she wasn’t over the Edna kiss after all.

  “Andrea told me a woman has been digging in my yard. It’s happened twice.” She raised an eyebrow. “And the woman is Amish. Who would be doing that? Andrea said the woman parks her buggy down the road, comes into the yard with a shovel, starts to dig, then runs off when Andrea goes outside.”

  Daniel scowled. “What is she digging for?”

  “I don’t know. Andrea said the woman’s digging in the middle of the grass, not like a flower bed or anything.”

  He scratched his chin. “Do you believe your sister?”

  “I don’t really have a reason not to. Why would she make up something like that?”

  Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know, but I can’t imagine why a woman in our community would be digging up your grass.”

  Charlotte waved away the thought. “Oh well. Who knows? We’ve both got more important things to think about.”

  “Will you be at the barn raising on Saturday?” Daniel looped his thumbs underneath his suspenders. He seemed to grow taller when he did that, and Charlotte smiled.

  “Yep. I’ll be there.” She took a peek through the small glass window into the waiting room, just to make sure a doctor wasn’t talking to the family, even though Charlotte didn’t think Lena had been in surgery long enough yet. “Do you think I should bring Andrea and Bella? Two more English people crashing the event might put the bishop in more of a tizzy.”

  “The bishop isn’t opposed to thoughtful interaction with Englisch folks wanting to help with a project like that. He’s opposed to courtship with an Englisch person”—he grinned—“when it’s gone on for months without commitment.”

  Charlotte had messed up a lot in her life, but letting down God seemed huge. But Daniel was going to keep bringing it up until Charlotte committed—one way or the other. “There’s something else I want to ask you.”

  “Please don’t propose to me in a hospital corridor.” Daniel grinned again, and Charlotte was reminded how much she loved his humor.

  She chuckled. “No, I’m not. But I wanted to tell you something about Lena. She gave me power of attorney to make decisions on her behalf if anything went wrong with the surgery.” She swallowed hard. “Which, of course, it won’t.” Then she cleared her throat. “But there’s also a Do Not Resuscitate form.”

  “What does that mean?” His eyebrows narrowed into a frown as his jaw tensed.

  “Basically, she doesn’t want to be kept alive on machines or have anyone resuscitate her should her heart stop.” Charlotte paused. “I haven’t read it all, but I think that’s the gist of it.”

  A muscle flicked in Daniel’s jaw again. “You mean, the way mei mamm is being kept alive?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “I guess.”

  “It would be wrong to kill a person, no matter the situation.”

  “Well, I guess it’s a personal choice as to where that line gets drawn.” Charlotte tried to recall the way Lena had explained it to her, but the words weren’t coming. “Each person should be able to choose what they would want in a situation like that. Lena gave the forms to me because she felt sure that neither Amos nor her children would be able to make that call. And the only reason I would make that decision is because Lena asked me to.” She waved a hand in the air and shook her head. “But it’s not going to come to anything even close to that, so it’s really a moot point.”

  “Two floors below us it is not a moot point.” Daniel’s face reddened. “Daed said folks are saying he needs to think about ‘pulling the plug’—as you Englisch say—on Mamm. We are not going to kill her.”

  Something about the way Daniel said Englisch caused a shiver to run the length of Charlotte’s spine. “It’s not killing someone; it’s being humane. Would you really want to lie in a bed with machines keeping you alive while your family watched your body deteriorating, when your soul ached to go home?” Thank You, God. Those words made sense, even to Charlotte.

  “Nee, of course not. But it’s not our choice to make. It is our duty to do the best we can for Mamm. God can heal her or take her home.”

  “God can also keep her alive if you take her off the machines.” She touched Daniel’s arm, but he backed away. “I would respect any decision that you and your family made about your mother. But you have to also respect Lena’s decision, if she were ever in that situation.”

  He shook his head. “Nee. It would be a matter for the bishop to decide.”

  “I disagree.” Charlotte folded her arms across her chest again. “If a person has a legal document stating her wishes, then those wishes should be followed, whether the bishop approves or not.”

  “What if her family disagreed with Lena’s choice and forbid you to do such a thing?” Daniel said the words in a calm, soft voice, as if he was forcing himself not to lose control. He clearly was putting Charlotte on the outside of the family circle, a place she’d grown to love and cherish. And Daniel knew it.

  “It would be an awful position to be put in, but I would try to convince Amos, Hannah, and Jacob to do what Lena wanted.”

  “And what if they couldn’t agree to killing her?”

  Charlotte’s pulse picked up, but she stifled her anger. This was a theoretical discussion about Lena. Daniel, his father, and Annie were living it in another part of the hospital. “I don’t know,” Charlotte said softly. The truth.

  The door to the waiting room opened, bumping Charlotte in the shoulder.

  “Mamm is in recovery,” Hannah said, smiling. “And everything went fine. She’s doing gut.”

  “Thank God.” Charlotte breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  Daniel nodded. “Wunderbaar news, Hannah.”

  But once Hannah was on the other side of the door again, Daniel said, “If you and I were married and you fell ill, needing machines to stay alive, I would not allow anyone to kill you, Charlotte.”

  She looked at the speckled tile floor in the corridor and shook her head before she looked back up at him. His voice had been so tender, like he would have been doing her a huge favor.

  “That’s a shame, Daniel. Because I wouldn’t want to be hooked up to machines indefinitely.”

  She pulled the waiting room door open and went back to be with her family.

  Two hours later Charlotte pulled Big Red into her driveway. She’d cried half the way home. As grateful as she was that Lena was going to be okay, her heart hurt. She and Daniel were divided on many issues. How would they ever meet in the middle to stay together, assuming Charlotte was even able to commit to that?

  But love couldn’t be controlled, and no matter the issues they wrestled with, she loved the man and she didn’t see that going away. If th
ey couldn’t come together on enough issues to keep the relationship from floundering, hearts were going to be broken.

  She leaned her head against Big Red’s steering wheel, another reminder of what she’d be leaving behind if she chose to be with Daniel. She felt petty for having the thought, but Big Red was more than a mode of transportation to her.

  As she walked into the living room, Bella ran to her, arms held high in the air. “Sweet girl.” The bouncy toddler filled Charlotte’s home with a sense of joy she hadn’t known before.

  “I live here too.” Andrea grinned from the couch where she was sitting.

  Charlotte eased Bella onto the floor and zoomed in on Andrea, along with two boxes that came from Charlotte’s closet that were in her sister’s lap. Large boxes filled with miscellaneous beads that Charlotte had collected for a couple of years when she was heavily into making jewelry. She also had all the tools and wire needed to make earrings, bracelets, and necklaces of all types. But eventually she realized that she didn’t have the creative flair necessary to make any real money at it.

  “Is this okay? Bella walked in your closet again, and I found these boxes.” She pointed to her lap.

  Charlotte already suspected her sister snooped, but she lost track of that thought when she eyed the pieces of jewelry Andrea had made using beads and other items in the boxes. Several pieces were laid out on the coffee table.

  “Where did you learn to do this?” Charlotte held up a pair of earrings, silver loops with turquoise stones dangling in the middle, that she would easily pay thirty dollars for. “When I was toying around with making jewelry, I didn’t make anything that looked like this.” She turned her eyes to Andrea. “These are gorgeous.” Who would have known? Andrea definitely has the creative flair that I lack.

  Her sister actually blushed. “Do you really think so?”

  Charlotte lifted up two more pairs of earrings. “Uh, yeah. These are amazing, Andrea.”

  “I’ll, uh . . . try to pay for the beads if I can have them. I mean, if”—Andrea shrugged, avoiding Charlotte’s gaze—“if you’re not using them or saving them for something.”

  “You don’t need to pay me for the beads. I haven’t touched them in a couple of years, at least.” She picked up a pair of gold dangling earrings with several colorful stones looped around the teardrop. “You can just make me an occasional pair of earrings.” She giggled, which felt good, considering her day.

  “How’s your friend Lena?” Andrea pointed a finger at Bella when her daughter moved to touch the fireplace grate. “No, Bella. Hot.”

  “Lena did very well. The fireplace isn’t hot, though.”

  “But it will be, and she needs to learn now not to touch it.”

  Exactly how long are you planning to stay here? But as Bella mouthed the word hot, Charlotte knew she wasn’t ready for her niece to leave. She wasn’t sure about her sister, but they were a package deal.

  “I’m going to take a shower.” She kicked off her shoes and started toward her bedroom.

  “Charlotte?”

  She turned on her heel. “Yeah?”

  “Do you really think these are pretty?” Andrea blushed again.

  “Absolutely. They are gorgeous, and I think you could sell them.”

  Andrea’s eyes lit up. “You mean, like my own business?” She stood, smiling.

  “Yep. I’d buy those earrings, especially those teardrop ones, the silver loops.” She returned the smile and headed toward the bathroom again, but Andrea was on her heels so she turned around.

  “Here.” Andrea held the pair of earrings out to Charlotte. “They’re your beads anyway.”

  “I should tell you to sell them.” Charlotte chuckled. “But I love them too much for that. I’m going to keep them and tell you to make another pair to sell.”

  Andrea threw her arms around Charlotte’s neck. “Thank you.”

  It was a real hug. From her sister. And as she looked over Andrea’s shoulder, little Bella clapped, grinning. Maybe God was blessing her with something she couldn’t have foreseen.

  Annie sat quietly with her father as Mamm’s chest rose and fell, the swoosh of the machines filling her lungs, then releasing the air in rhythmic consistency as other devices beeped nearby. Annie heard the sounds in her sleep sometimes. “The doctor said Lena can go home day after tomorrow if all goes well.”

  Her father nodded but kept his eyes fixed on his wife.

  Annie glanced down at her own chest. She couldn’t imagine not having any breasts. What if she had been the one to get cancer?

  Her gaze drifted to her mother. Each visit was harder and harder as she watched her mother’s continued weight loss, and her face seemed more pallid too. “Grace is such a gut boppli. She smiles a lot too. Mamm said I smiled early too.” She forced a smile, hoping for any response from her daed. “Aenti Faye and I can’t love on her enough.” Annie twisted a string from her kapp around her finger. “Maybe you should come home for a while and spend some time with her. Somehow I’ll make sure Aenti Faye doesn’t make pickled oysters.”

  Her father glared at her. “Did you bring pickled oysters like I asked?”

  “Daed, Daniel just reminded me this morning. I promise to bring some when I come to visit next time.”

  “I asked him yesterday.” His gaze traveled back to Annie’s mother, and she decided not to argue with him. He hadn’t been home in so long, he couldn’t keep track of the days.

  “So . . . do you . . . ?” Annie cleared her throat. “Do you want to come home for a while?”

  Daed shook his head without looking at her. “Nee. Your mudder might wake up while I’m gone.”

  Annie was losing hope that Mamm would wake up. Ever. She had cried herself to sleep about it most nights, but it was becoming just as heartbreaking to see her father this way. “I can stay with her, Daed. If she wakes, I can call you.”

  “I don’t tote one of the Englisch cell phones. You know that.”

  “I could call Daniel, and he could bring you to the hospital.”

  Her father cut his eyes in her direction. “You and your bruder abuse the mobile telephones.”

  Annie lifted one shoulder and slowly lowered it. “Lately we’ve needed them, Daed.”

  They were quiet as Annie’s father looked back at her mother. “The Lord hears our prayers, mei maedel. Your mamm will wake up.”

  Annie wanted to believe that more than anything in the world, and she was sure that she, Daniel, and their father were all grieving in their own ways, but there was a new life in their world. “Baby Grace smiles when she is sleeping too. She’s the most beautiful boppli ever.”

  Daed gave a taut nod before he looked at Annie. “Jacob is back, is he not?”

  “Ya.” But her father’s refusal to acknowledge his newborn daughter stung, forcing her to swallow back tears.

  “You will not see that boy. He caused you and our family much heartache, not to mention the upset to his own family.”

  Annie wanted to tell her father that Jacob hadn’t been baptized, that he was free to explore the world until he chose baptism. She wanted to lash out at her father, to tell him that she was eighteen years old and could do whatever she wanted.

  As she fought the quiver in her bottom lip, she wanted to yell at him that they all loved Mamm and that he was an awful person not to hold his beautiful new baby, no matter the situation. But as she studied the expression on her father’s face, the bags under his tired eyes, the way his hands trembled in his lap as he stared at his wife—she just sat quietly, fighting off her own tears . . . as machines swooshed and beeped.

  Annie didn’t know what to pray for with regard to her mother. So she prayed for peace for all of them, entrusting her mother’s life to the Lord.

  She stood and took a deep breath. “I’m going to go, Daed. I will bring some pickled oysters tomorrow.” She smoothed the wrinkles in her black apron. “Anything else?”

  Her father picked up an envelope from the nightstand between Ann
ie’s parents, then held it out to Annie. She took a couple of steps and accepted it.

  “Give that to the doctors or nurses on your way out. You can tell them that there will be no unplugging of these machines.”

  Annie frowned, about to ask what that meant, but her father waved an arm toward the door. “Go, child. Deliver the papers.”

  She left the room and handed the envelope to a nurse outside her mother’s room.

  Eleven

  Charlotte parked her truck amid all the buggies, like a red-spotted beetle among a bunch of pristine gray ants. For a group of people who defied pride, the Amish had clean houses, impeccable yards, and even their buggies sparkled on a day filled with sunshine, like today.

  “This is gonna be weird.” Andrea pried open the passenger door. Then she worked to get Bella out of her car seat, which barely fit between two people in the ’57 Chevy. “What if they don’t like me?”

  “They’ll like you,” Charlotte said before clearing her throat. She’d considered not bringing Andrea to the barn raising. Bishop Miller already had his eye on Charlotte, and considering she never knew what Andrea might say, the entire day might end up a bust. But Charlotte liked the Stoltzfus family, and she wanted to be a part of erecting a new barn for them.

  Lightning had hit their farm during the storm, started a fire in the barn, and destroyed most of it. The day before, members of the community had torn down what was left, and now stacks of wood were waiting on the members of the community to rebuild.

  “Are we going to actually be hammering nails and all that stuff?” Andrea set Bella on the ground. Charlotte’s niece toddled around to Charlotte’s side of the truck, lifting her hands in the air. Bella seemed like a different child than she did the first day she and Andrea had shown up at Charlotte’s house. She wasn’t nearly as fussy, and even if Bella was upset, it was easier to comfort her now.

  “No, we’re not.” She scooped Bella into her arms and walked toward a group of women setting platters of food and pitchers of tea on a picnic table. “We’ll help with the meal, get the men drinks, and make sure the younger children stay away from the work area.”