The River
Page 19
Tilly felt a cool hand on hers at that fragile moment, and slowly, she let herself lean into her precious mother.
Chapter 33
I think my sister’s still sleeping,” Ruth told Mamm while stirring pancake batter early the next morning.
Mamm nodded. “Well, you certainly look fresh as a flower.” She regarded Ruth, seemingly measuring her expression. “Makes me wonder if there might not just be something interesting comin’ . . . well, in your near future.”
Ruth was startled. Had Mamm somehow seen her with Will?
“I can certainly hope, can’t I, that maybe you and your former beau might be thinking of getting back together, jah?”
So, Mamm had seen them. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but I’ll tell you something to keep private for now.” At Mamm’s quick nod, Ruth went on. “Wilmer Kauffman has asked me to return home here. He wants to court me.”
“My dear girl . . .” Mamm’s eyes were ever so hopeful that it pained Ruth a little.
“I haven’t made up my mind, though.”
Mamm wiped her hands on her apron and reached to give her a hug. “Oh, Ruthie, when will ya decide?”
“I’m taking my time . . . praying, too.”
“Well, it sounds like you just might be persuaded.”
Ruth felt a flutter again at the thought. “I don’t want to jump into anything too quickly.”
“Very wise. And if you ask me, dating someone for all four seasons is a schmaert idea, too—my own mother counseled me to do that.”
Ruth’s mother must not realize she had already been Will’s sweetheart-girl for far more than twelve months. But that felt like a world ago. “It would definitely be a huge adjustment to leave my English life behind, but with God’s help, I’m willing—if that is what He wants for me.”
A big tear rolled down Mamm’s cheek, and she shook her head like she could hardly believe it. “It would be such a wunnerbaar-gut answer to my every prayer.”
Ruth wondered aloud how the rest of the family would receive the news, if it came to that.
“I can tell ya that your Daed would greet the prospect of gaining you back to the People with such joy.” Mamm smiled. “He’d pro’bly even shed a few tears.”
Ruth couldn’t imagine her father moved to tears over this, but perhaps he was more tenderhearted than she knew. “I still remember a thing or two about living Amish. Bet I could even hitch a horse by myself if I had to,” she joked.
Her mother laughed. “Well, and you’d be wantin’ a place to stay, too, I would guess.”
“If I decide to return . . . and if that suits you.”
“What do ya mean, child? Of course it does. Oh, Ruthie, do you know how delighted I would be?” With that, Mamm threw her arms around Ruthie and held her near.
———
Tilly yawned and sat up in bed, getting her bearings. She sighed and dragged herself out from under the covers, still shaken by the stunning thought that Daed was not her father. And poor, sweet Mamm . . . what she went through that horrid night so long ago!
Earlier, Tilly had awakened out of a deep sleep to the sound of laughter from somewhere in the house. The sounds were muffled and coming from the kitchen.
Long before dawn, she’d returned the letter to Mamm, still unopened. The terrible secret was in Mamm’s safekeeping now, hidden from other eyes. Why her mother hadn’t concealed the letter in a more secure place, she did not know. To think Daed was not her flesh-and-blood father . . . that her violent beginnings had colored his view of her, his treatment.
The miracle was that Daed hadn’t insisted that Mamm get rid of her before the birth. Thankfully, he was a God-fearing man who valued all life. Still, the truth remained: Tilly was a constant reminder of what had happened to his beloved wife.
“I’m grateful to be alive,” Tilly whispered, reaching for her morning devotional book. Wearily, she went through the motions of reading it, and of praying, too, but her heart was in neither.
Peals of laughter echoed up the stairs yet again. Tilly braced herself, wondering how she could sit at the same table with her family this morning, knowing what she did.
———
Ruth rang the dinner bell several times, just as Mamm requested. Yet for whatever reason, Daed hadn’t come in for breakfast as usual.
“The waffles and eggs will get cold,” Mamm fretted, “and your father is not one for eating cold anything, ya know.”
“I’ll run to the barn and let him know we’re ready.” Ruth took time to slip on her jacket, wondering if Tilly was ever coming downstairs. Now that everything was sorted, they had so much packing left to do; they really needed to get started.
The morning felt nippy, a far cry from the warm temperatures yesterday when she and Will had basked in the sunshine of late autumn. The hour they’d spent together walking and talking had been something she’d never anticipated, but she still had so many things to consider . . . including her relationship with Jim Montgomery.
Ah, Jim. Their friendship had been growing in such a promising way—somehow Ruth knew she wouldn’t need to wonder about whether she could count on his word and intentions. She had observed his caring concern for others in their congregation, including the elderly couple whom he drove to church as needed. Jim was certainly a man she could depend on, whereas Will . . .
But he’s changed, hasn’t he? Ruth thought. The serious tone of their conversation was certainly an indication of that. Even so, it would take time to know for sure. And time would be in short supply unless Ruth moved back home.
Could I really give up so much just for the hope of a happy life with Will?
Ruth contemplated what Mamm had said earlier. The thought of pleasing her parents with her return—possibly causing Daed to weep. The idea touched Ruth profoundly, and she couldn’t imagine her father wiping salty tears from his ruddy face. As for her mother, even the slimmest possibility of a permanent reunion between Ruth and her family had lifted her spirits nearly to the sky.
Still, tempting as all that was, Ruth knew she needed to proceed carefully, with wisdom. She was thankful Tilly was there to keep her mindful of that.
I don’t want to raise everyone’s hopes only to dash them.
———
Tilly felt unsteady as she made her way down the steep back staircase and into the kitchen. She found Mamm alone there, standing over the cookstove, her face pink with the heat, small beads of perspiration on her brow. “Mamm?”
“Well, Guder Mariye to you, my dear.” Her mother looked her way, her expression amiable, though she, too, looked sleep deprived. “Were you able to rest . . . after we talked?”
Tilly yawned. “It wasn’t the best night I’ve ever had. How about you?”
“Oh . . . at my age, I get my sleep when I can.” Mamm sighed. “But no. Rest was hard to come by.”
Tilly took four paper cups out of the cupboard, needing to keep busy and wanting to be useful. “We certainly have a big day ahead of us.” She felt it wise to change the subject. Enough gloomy talk.
Mamm nodded and smoothed her apron. “Melvin and Susannah will be over to help, squeezing in work over here before picking field corn. And Caleb and Benny are comin’ to help with barn duties—doin’ double duty, bless their hearts. And I hear Naomi’s bringin’ supper. She and Abner will join us—ain’t that nice?”
Tilly nodded. “Is Daed around?” she asked. “And Ruthie?”
“Your sister’s out alerting your father ’bout breakfast.” Mamm eyed the stove. “Which is not going to be very good if the waffles get soggy.”
Your father . . .
Tilly trembled at the word. Mamm was right—the pain had found its way into her own life. The heartbreaking knowledge she now possessed only deepened her hurt.
She was just making her way toward the icebox to get some orange juice when Ruthie dashed into the house, breathless.
“Come quick, Mamm. Something’s wrong with Daed!”
Mamm
gasped and dropped everything to follow. “I’m comin’!”
Tilly hurried to the back door, offering to phone for help.
“Jah, or if he’s in need of a hospital, can you drive him, maybe?” Mamm called back as she rushed out to the barn with Ruthie.
Tilly stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do first. Wouldn’t Mamm prefer an ambulance? Then, suppressing her emotions, she darted out to the barn to assess the situation. She was shocked to see Daed lying on the cement floor, not far from the calves’ birthing pen. Melvin was already performing CPR.
“Someone better call 9-1-1,” Melvin said louder than Tilly had ever heard him speak. “Graades wegs!—Right away!”
Tilly moved quickly, running to the car, her heart pounding so hard she could scarcely hear herself think. Oh, dear Lord, will Daed live?
Chapter 34
Melvin had only performed CPR on a dummy in the class he’d taken on the sly. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought he would have to do on his father. Even so, he was relieved to see Daed beginning to respond now as Melvin pumped in the steady rhythm he’d been trained to do.
Hurry, Tilly, he thought, aware that if this was an arrhythmia problem like he thought, there was no time to waste. He was thankful, too, that the Almighty had directed him this very day to drop in early to help, after accomplishing some of his own chores at his farm.
He looked at his once brawny father lying on the floor. Daed had stumbled forward while they were forking hay together, saying he was awful dizzy. Melvin had eased him carefully to the ground, speaking firmly yet calmly to Daed . . . telling him everything he was going to do to help him. Everything I learned at the class.
“Medical help’s on the way,” Melvin said, more to reassure himself than Daed, who had lost consciousness. He took his father’s pulse and then resumed pumping his chest again. We’ll get you out of the woods yet. . . .
Meanwhile, Mamm and Ruth had stepped back, and he heard a whispered prayer falling from his mother’s lips. Jah, pray, someone please pray!
“Ruthie, why don’t you go on out to the road and wave down the paramedics? Direct them in here, won’t ya?”
Immediately, his sister left the barn.
“Will he be all right?” Mamm asked, her voice sounding terribly weak. Weaker than when she’d had the flu two winters ago and lain in bed for days.
“He’s a Lantz, ain’t he?” Melvin answered, not wanting to add to her anxiety.
“He certainly is,” Mamm replied, catching Melvin’s spirit.
“Keep prayin’,” he added, waiting for the sound of the siren. Hurry, hurry!
Tilly pushed the speed limit all the way back down Eden Road. She tried not to assume the worst, even though the image of Daed sprawled out like that, unconscious, was impossible to push from her mind.
She had quickly called 9-1-1 at the phone shanty, so now it was just a waiting game. If the ambulance arrived soon enough, Daed had a better chance of surviving. Arrhythmia wasn’t the same as a heart attack, she knew, but it could be fatal if his heart didn’t get back into rhythm with CPR or an electrical shock. If the paramedics dallied, Daed might not make it.
She pulled into the drive and sat in her car, not knowing how to feel or what to think. She wasn’t Daed’s biological daughter, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d raised her as his own. Well, nearly. And even that made no difference now, not at such a critical time.
On top of Daed’s sudden episode, Tilly was still reeling from the repercussions of her mother’s shocking revelation. The fact remained: Her very existence was a thorn in Daed’s flesh. The ugly duckling . . .
She pleaded for divine help, for God’s will to be accomplished. Daed certainly needed heaven’s intervention, living in the country, so far from town. How far away is the ambulance service? she wondered, anxious.
Then, incredibly, moments later, she could hear the sound of a siren and breathed a thank-you to the Lord. “They’re almost here,” she said, ever so relieved.
Tilly and Ruth encouraged Mamm to ride along in the ambulance, grateful Daed was now conscious, although very disoriented.
When the ambulance left with their parents inside, Tilly and Ruth hurried inside the house and choked down a few bites of the cold breakfast, then put away the leftovers. They would finish cleanup later.
Melvin, for his part, had declined eating, saying he and Caleb would take care of things outdoors, covering for Daed till other men—neighbors, mostly—came to take their place once Benny returned from getting word out next door.
Tilly had thanked Melvin profusely, suggesting that he had saved Daed’s life with his quick thinking and CPR.
My half brother, Tilly thought now. She couldn’t help looking at her siblings far differently, even dear Ruthie.
“Why are you staring at me?” Ruth asked, frowning as they went to grab coats and purses.
“Just thinking.” Blood kin or the strong bonds of the heart—what did it matter, really? She loved Ruth as if she were her full-blooded sister. Same with her brothers.
“You all right?” Ruth still seemed concerned. “You’ve asked me that more than once since we arrived here. No doubt you’re worried about Daed.”
“Well, it’s not a day I’ll forget anytime soon.” Nor last night . . .
Ruthie nodded and walked with her out the door. “I wonder if we shouldn’t have taken Mamm in the car and just followed the ambulance. She must be thoroughly confused.”
“You’re right. Let’s get going,” Tilly replied, thankful they didn’t have to rely on horse and buggy. “Mamm can benefit from our experience in the English world.” She didn’t like the idea of Mamm not knowing what to do there amongst strangers, although medical professionals. She felt terribly protective of her as she remembered again the startling things she’d learned from her mother’s lips in the wee hours just this morning.
Dear, dear Mamm . . .
Tilly swerved out of the way of a white-haired man driving along the narrow streets of Strasburg as she headed north toward the Lincoln Highway. The older gentleman gripped the steering wheel with both hands, spectacles all the way down on the tip of his nose as he squinted through the windshield at the road.
“Isn’t he too old to be driving?” Ruth asked, her tone serious.
“We’ll all be like that someday.” Tilly glanced at her sister.
“To think I might not be driving anymore . . . and soon.”
“Are you sad about that, Ruthie?”
Her sister sighed. “It wouldn’t be the hardest thing to give up, I’m sure. My friends and my overall freedom would be much harder to leave behind. And I’m not sure I could leave our church, either. It’s so different from the Amish meetings, as you know.”
“Have you thought of discussing any of this with Will?” asked Tilly. “What about making a compromise? After all, if he really wants to be with you, he could meet you halfway.”
“I don’t know. He seems very set on joining church here.” Ruth folded her arms, and for several miles she was brooding and quiet.
When she spoke again, Tilly changed the subject. “Just think what we might have missed by not coming to our parents’ anniversary celebration.”
Ruthie agreed. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“We wouldn’t have enjoyed visiting with Mammi Lantz again, or seeing our new nieces and nephews, either.”
“And Uncle Abner and Aunt Naomi, too, don’t forget,” Ruth said. “And Will Kauffman,” she added more quietly, confiding that Will wanted to take her out in his courting carriage that evening. “Of course I won’t go unless Daed is doing better . . . but if I do, I’ve thought of wearing one of my Amish dresses to surprise him. What do you think?”
“Well, nothing says you have to.” Tilly didn’t know whether to smile or frown, though she was certain Will would see it as a step in the right direction. “First, let’s find out how Daed’s doing.”
Ruth agreed.
“And sometime before we
leave for Rockport, I might stop at the cemetery to see Anna’s headstone,” Tilly said.
Ruth nodded, saying she probably wouldn’t do that a second time this visit. “But I’d like to go to the river . . . near the spot where Anna fell in.”
Tilly shivered and admitted she’d already gone on Sunday but would have to take Ruthie there before they left town. Hard as it would be.
“Melvin mentioned wanting to go, too,” Ruth said suddenly. “Do you mind?”
Tilly found this peculiar. “Why does he want to go?”
Ruthie shrugged and looked at the sky. “He didn’t really say. Just needs to sort out some things that have nagged him for years, is all.”
I understand. Yet Tilly felt overwhelmed at the thought of returning to the scene of Anna’s accident. It was almost too much to take as she drove to the hospital as fast as the speed limit would allow.
Please, Lord, don’t let Daed die, she prayed, struggling with tears for the man who was her father in name only.
Chapter 35
At Lancaster General Hospital, Tilly and Ruth found their mother sitting in a chair next to Daed’s bed when they stepped into the semiprivate room. Mamm looked so pale, Tilly told her not to get up but to preserve her strength. “Daed needs you strong,” she whispered as she leaned down to kiss her cheek.
“Such a lot of papers to read and sign in the ER,” Mamm whispered, waving her hand before her face. “I hope I didn’t make any mistakes.”
“I’m sure everything will work out just fine,” Ruth told her, assuring her that the People’s benevolence fund would help with the medical costs, like always. No one in their Old Order community had health insurance.
“Well, it seems that your father may not be in longer than overnight. The nurse said his cardiologist has ordered more tests. Might even be that medicine alone will help him. We can hope and pray.”
Tilly glanced at Daed, who was resting. Now and then, he raised one eyelid and peered over at them. She saw the IV in his arm and the heart monitor charting his pulse. Unable to bear it, she ambled to the window across the room, near the other bed, which was vacant.