Saving Susannah

by Beverly Bird

  Her bottom hurt abominably.

  After a long time, Joe got to his feet and stepped up beside the bishop. He handed over the letter that they had hunted for so frantically just a few hours ago.

  “Psst. Mom.”

  Kim leaned the other way, closer to her daughter. “What?”

  “Promise me if you ever get married, you won’t do it this way.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Of getting married? Or doing it this way?”

  Kim caught her daughter’s face in her hands and made her look at her. “Either one. We’re fine the way we are, Suze. Aren’t we?”

  Susannah hesitated too long. Don’t do this to me, Kim thought helplessly. Please don’t do this to me now.

  “Yeah,” Susannah said finally. “We’re cool. I guess.”

  “Good,” Kim whispered hoarsely.

  “It’s just nice having all these cousins around. It’s like...a family, you know? I never knew rd like it so much.”

  Kim was still searching for a response to that, when she realized the ceremony was over. People all around them were getting to their feet. She jerked around again to find Joe. He had come back to sit beside her while she had been speaking with Susannah. “That’s it?” she demanded.

  He stood; as well, and stretched. “That’s it.”

  “Three hours of services, and just five minutes of ‘Who gives this woman’? I missed it!”

  He looked at her blankly. “Who gives what?”

  She groaned. “Never mind.”

  “God blesses their union. That’s all that matters.”

  Suddenly, she felt an overriding need to get away. Why hadn’t she realized before how claustrophobic this living room was? How hot? So many bodies, so much heat. Kim moved quickly for the door. Joe moved with her.

  “Susannah wants cousins,” she blurted, stepping outside, breathing deeply of the cold, clean air.

  “Well, she has several of them.”

  “But—”

  “But you’re still not convinced you’ll stay in touch with your brothers once this is all over,” Joe said for her.

  She didn’t answer, and that was answer in itself. She refused to let him make her feel guilty over it. She brought her chin up a notch and looked at him defiantly. But...he didn’t look remorseful, she realized. It had just been a statement of fact.

  “Why don’t you just take one thing at a time?” Joe suggested.

  Reasonably, as always, Kim thought, and couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Are you always so...so calm? So sensible?”

  His face hardened. “No. It seems I’m only able to give such good advice to others.”

  He moved off then and left her. She was relieved, of course. Of course, she was. There was no sense in getting too cozy here, too dependent upon his company, his friendship. In fact, if she had half a brain in her head, she would gather a few new friends here at the wedding. She looked around at the throng dismally, then she went to a reasonably isolated area of bench and sat by herself. She watched helplessly as Susannah raced off with her cousins.

  It was dark and the moon was high before Joe climbed up on one of the tables to stand head and shoulders over the crowd. They’d eaten—again—although the second meal had been comparatively lighter. Kim had listened as much speculation was bandied back and forth when several of the young people paired off. She was a little amazed to learn that this was their first public “appearance” together, that they’d actually been sneaking into each others’ keeping rooms all year after dark. It was, she ascertained, some kind of courting ritual.

  She was also staggered to realize that these kids would be expected to marry, as well, now that they’d taken this step of going public. They seemed like such babies, she thought. They were barely out of their teens, and some of them weren’t even that old! Did they even know what they were getting into?

  “There’s something I need to speak to you all about before any of you begin leaving,” Joe called out.

  Kim snapped her attention to him again. She knew what was coming.

  “As I’m sure you’re all aware, Adam and Jacob’s sister has been staying at my home. I wanted to be the first to tell you that she’ll be staying for a little while longer. Her daughter is gravely ill and needs our help, as well as proximity to a hospital in Philadelphia.”

  Voices murmured. She heard several people offer whatever they could—just like that. She felt faint. He had warned her. Still...

  “The first thing we need to do for her is give blood samples. An anner Satt Leit doctor will come to my farm at a time I’ll notify you of later. He’ll take a small amount of blood from each of you who would like to help. Susannah needs special blood, and there’s only a slim chance that any of us will match. But I think God would want us to try, just as we sought outside help earlier in the year to look for our children. It’s my heartfelt belief that helping Susannah Wallace is no different, and I hope you’ll agree with me.”

  A chorus of voices sang out yes at that. Kim went hot, then cold. Just like that, she thought wildly. Just like that, they would help. Her eyes filled.

  “What if we do match?” someone shouted. “What then?”

  “Then she’ll need some of your bone marrow.”

  Another uproar followed about this, but mostly it was just questions about how such a thing could be removed from the human body.

  “I’m sure the medical people will explain all that when they come,” Joe said. And that was good enough for the crowd.

  His eyes met hers. I told you so.

  Hers clung to his. I owe you so much.

  This was so much more than money, she thought, so much more than holding a few bottles of ibuprofen or her hand when the news was bad. Even if no one here matched, it didn’t negate his gift, this effort.

  “Thank you.” She mouthed the words at him.

  He came down off the table and gave her arm a quick squeeze. “See? It gets easier to say that all the time.”

  Chapter 11

  Kim awoke earlier than usual on Saturday morning. It took her all of ten seconds to realize why. Something felt different. The house was inordinately quiet. Everyone had gone.

  Jake and Katya had left yesterday afternoon. They had taken Nathaniel to Berks County. Yesterday morning, fourteen people had been crammed into the various bedrooms. Today there were only seven.

  The sun was just up, its light new and pure and thin. Kim sat up and put her feet warily to the floor. She was learning. She’d taken to shoving some wood into the stove each night before she slept. Not enough, obviously, to keep it burning through the night, but the chill was somewhat less today, so this fire had lasted the longest. She got up, collected her clothing and toiletries and headed downstairs to the bathroom.

  As soon as she reached the ground floor, she heard a steady thumping from outside. Curious, she reversed direction and went to the front door, then out onto the porch. Joe was already up on the roof of one of the barns across the road, hammering away. She decided to leave him be and went to take a bath. Twenty minutes later, she came out and heard the baby crying upstairs. It was time to start earning her keep.

  She went to Dinah’s room. The door was closed. The baby’s hungry wails came loud and clear from the other side. Kim knocked once and got no response. She knocked again, harder.

  “What?” Dinah shouted.

  “Can I come in?”

  “I don’t care.”

  Kim cracked open the door. Only Dinah and Hannah were inside. The baby was howling in her cradle while Dinah hurriedly finished dressing.

  “Where is everybody?” Kim asked.

  “Susannah is in Gracie’s room. I guess that’s who you mean.”

  There was something defensive in Dinah’s voice, Kim realized. “I meant everyone in general,” she said quietly.

  “Oh. Well, I guess Matt’s still sleeping. Pa’s outside.”

  “Yes. I saw him.”

  The girl tied her apron on with quick,
hard tugs. “Then what did you ask me for?”

  Kim held her tongue. “Would you like me to feed the baby?” she offered.

  Dinah looked up immediately. Her eyes were angry. “I can do it. I always do it.”

  Kim started to turn away. She felt incapable of dealing with the girl’s resentment right now. She wasn’t entirely thrilled with this situation, either, but it was necessary on a lot of fronts. She got as far as the door and stopped.

  Dinah was only a few years older than Susannah, she realized. She was just a kid, really. A confused, bereaved kid with too much responsibility on her shoulders. And now there were more changes—two strangers in her home, trying to edge in on the one area that had been allowing her to cope. Kim took a shaky breath and turned back to her.

  “If you take care of the baby, that means I have to cook on that stove,” she said. “And I don’t know how to.”

  Dinah narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Katya showed you yesterday.”

  “She did. But I haven’t tried it yet. How hungry are you?”

  Dinah went to the cradle and gathered the baby. “I’m okay.”

  “She’s not.”

  There was a long, stiff silence.

  “Please cook. Feeding the baby is something I can handle. As for the stove...well, at least let me watch how it’s done one more time before I attempt it myself.”

  Dinah looked at her uncertainly. “I guess that would be okay.”

  It wasn’t quite a concession, or at least it wasn’t a big one, but Kim took it as one. “Thanks.”

  Dinah handed her the baby. It had been more than nine years since Kim had held an infant. It all came back to her in a flood—the pure fragility of a child so young, the dependency, the sweet and simple responses. A finger to hold on to brought a smile. A soft breast to nestle against brought sleep. Hunger brought complaint.

  She carried the baby downstairs behind Dinah. The girl went to the woodstove, poked around at the embers inside a bit, then she laid two small logs upon them.

  “This stove in the kitchen always stays low,” she explained, still somewhat rigidly. “The ones in the rest of the house we burn hot for heat.”

  “Okay.”

  “Too much heat in this one would scorch the food.”

  “Sure.”

  “It takes longer to cook things, but at least nothing gets fried.”

  “Your aunts were complaining that the roast was overcooked the other night,” Kim volunteered, filling a bottle with the last of the formula. She’d have to go into the village to get some more, she thought. She could call Jake while she was there and see if he had had any luck with Grete Guenther yet. Probably not. He’d scarcely been home twelve hours.

  “What?” she asked, realizing Dinah was still speaking.

  “I said the aunts will find something to complain about in heaven,” Dinah repeated.

  Kim laughed. “I gathered that.”

  “Mom wasn’t like them.”

  Silence fell abruptly. Dinah turned back to the stove again quickly, but Kim saw her eyes fill just before she moved. “This has got to be hard on you,” Kim ventured, trying to chip out an opening for communication.

  “It’s hardest on Pa.”

  Dinah wasn’t cooking. She’d crossed her arms over her waist. Kim saw her shoulders shake. She ducked her head. Kim’s heart spasmed with sympathy. Oh, God, she didn’t know the right thing to say now. She was so bad with emotion. Giving comfort to virtual strangers was so alien to her. She had so rarely received it and didn’t know how to offer it.

  “Why did he have to do it?” Dinah burst out, spinning around again. “Why?”

  “Who?” Kim asked carefully. Was Dinah talking about the God who was such a big part of their lives or her father?

  “Pa,” she sobbed. “Pa. They knew she couldn’t have more babies. I... I heard them talking once. They said it was dangerous for her. But he did it anyway, and now everything’s horrible and I miss her!”

  “That’s enough, Dinah.”

  Joe’s voice lashed into the kitchen like a whip. Kim gasped and whipped around to look at him. His eyes were as tormented as she had ever seen them. And for once he was not wise, not kind, not seeming to care for his daughter’s pain. He had enough of his own. What had she walked into here? Kim knew she should come to Dinah’s defense. But the girl shoved past both of them before Kim could think of what to say. Dinah raced from the room. Joe only stood rooted.

  “Well, great,” Kim muttered. “Who’s supposed to cook now?”

  “I’ll do it.” Still, he made no move to cross to the stove.

  “No, thanks,” she answered shortly. “I saw that mess you threw into the sink the other day.”

  He took off his hat and raked a hand through his hair, then he plunked the hat back on again. “What do you want from me, Kimberley?”

  I want you to be the man I was getting used to knowing. I want you to be strong so I can be weak. Kim felt her skin heat. “Here,” she snapped. “Take Hannah. I’ll give the damned stove a shot.”

  He jerked back so fast his back hit the door frame. He swore, and this time it wasn’t mild.

  “Joe, for God’s sake—”

  “Forget breakfast,” he growled. “Give them cereal. I’ve got to get back to that roof.” And with that, he was gone again.

  Kim moved out into the hallway to stare after him. She heard Dinah crying softly from behind her. She had gone out the back door.

  “Well, hell,” Kim mumbled. She went after Dinah. It seemed safer.

  The girl was sitting on the single step that led down from the back porch. A water pump stood right beyond it. Dinah jiggled the handle up and down, up and down, nervously. Kim sat next to her, still cradling the baby. Old habits came back instinctively. She braced the bottle with her chin to tuck the little blanket tighter around Hannah. It was cold out, colder even than it had been yesterday.

  “He didn’t mean that,” she said finally. “You know, to be so...harsh.”

  Dinah wouldn’t look at her.

  “I think he’s just...” She closed her eyes, feeling overwhelmed all over again by this situation. And inadequate to the task. “If what you say is true, if they knew your mom couldn’t get pregnant, then I think he must feel guilty about it all,” Kim stated. And, she thought, that went a long way toward explaining his behavior toward Hannah. Poor babe. She touched her lips to her cheek.

  “Pa’s too smart for that,” Dinah said tightly.

  “You blame him,” Kim declared bluntly. “And you seem smart.”

  Dinah finally glanced her way, then her eyes shot away again. “It’s just...you know...if you know something’s gonna hurt you, then don’t do it.”

  “It’s not always that easy,” Kim murmured.

  Dinah averted her eyes. Tricky ground here, Kim thought. She took a deep breath. “When I was a kid,” she began, “there was always a box of doughnuts in the bottom drawer of the fridge. They were off-limits. They were for my father. Sometimes they would sit there for days at a time, going stale. It didn’t matter. He’d rather see them tossed out than have any of us eat one.”

  Dinah gaped at her, clearly shocked. “That’s mean!”

  Kim winced, then forced herself to nod. “Sometimes it drove me nuts just knowing they were there. I’d sit upstairs in my room, and I could just taste them. Sometimes I just had to take one, even though—” I was going to get beaten within an inch of my life for it “—even though...he’d punish me for it,” she said less graphically for Dinah’s sake. “Do you get what I’m saying here?”

  Dinah jiggled the pump handle harder.

  “Sometimes you can want something even more than you fear it,” Kim continued. And her own words sent an uncertain tingle down her spine.

  Dinah sniffed and dragged a hand over her cheek.

  “Granted, I don’t have a lot of experience with men,” Kim said carefully, “but I’d almost bet that that’s what happened with your dad. The men I’ve known
haven’t been like your father, but...” She trailed off as the enormity of that statement hit her, as well, then she rushed on, around it. “But anyway, it makes sense to me.”

  Dinah covered her face with her hands. “What’re we gonna do? Everything seems so sad all the time.”

  Kim’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know,” she admitted. She stood again. “But for now, let me just lay the baby down and I’ll pour out some cereal. That I can handle.” Her bottle mostly finished, Hannah was already dozing, impervious to all the tension around her. Oh, to be a baby again, Kim thought.

  “I’d better wake up Gracie and Matt,” Dinah said. “Make them get ready for school. Gracie takes forever.”

  “Dinah.”

  “What?”

  “It’s Saturday.”

  And just like that, the girl started crying again. Kim sat beside her one more time and put an arm around her awkwardly, cradling the baby with the other.

  So much for having her own problems.

  It was nearly noon before Kim saw Joe again. On the one hand, she was relieved. At least it seemed clear that he wouldn’t be hanging around all the time, close by, making her think, making her...feel things. Asking for emotion, for the kind of altruistic, honest reactions that she’d buried so deeply so long ago. On the other hand, she was pretty sure he was avoiding her. Or maybe it was just the house. After their spat this morning, maybe it was even Dinah he was steering clear of, although he had been out on the barn roof long before Dinah came downstairs.

  Kim managed to boil some eggs on the woodstove with reasonable success, and she made egg salad sandwiches for lunch. She battled her way through two cloth diapers. That was going to be the end of that, she thought again. She set plates out on the table. Dinah came downstairs from whatever she had been doing in her room. Susannah and Gracie came inside from playing in the side yard. Matt didn’t come back. And Joe was still stubbornly out on the barn roof.

  “Where’s Matt?” Kim asked the girls.

  “Playing with Bo. He went there as soon as chores were done,” Gracie answered, biting into a sandwich. “Hey, this is pretty good.”

  Kim longed for a telephone so she could just call Mariah and make sure Matt was okay. Five kids was a little more than she had ever thought she would have to take care of. Instead, she looked at Dinah. “Hold the fort for me?” she asked.