by Marta Perry
“Oh, skip it. I’m not lovely. He was playing with me.”
Readjusting the mirror, she shook her head at her own foolishness. He was a good-looking man who found himself stuck in a tiny town with nothing to do. It was no wonder he decided to set up a flirtation to ease the boredom.
Well, she would not be his plaything. She was better than that. She would let him know the next time she saw him that he’d stepped over the line. She got out of the car and slammed the door shut.
With purposeful steps she marched toward her front door. When she reached the porch, she opened the door and saw Fluffy waiting by his food bowl. The cat let out a mournful meow. “Fluffy, you won’t believe what that man tried to do today.”
The cat meowed again and circled his bowl. It was clear he didn’t care what was troubling his human companion. Tossing her purse on the kitchen table, Amber opened a cabinet and pulled out a can of cat food. As the opener ran, she tried to think of something scathing to say.
About what? About an almost, maybe kiss? She was more mature than that.
No. She wouldn’t mention a thing to Dr. Phillip. She’d carry on as if nothing had happened because nothing had happened. He hadn’t kissed her.
“That’s right. He didn’t kiss me.”
As she knelt beside Fluffy’s bowl, the cat rubbed against her legs.
Spooning the salmon-flavored food into the dish, Amber said, “Maybe he’d simply been leaning forward to scratch his knee, and I completely misread his intentions.”
How embarrassing would it be to rake him over the coals for something he hadn’t done or intended to do?
Banging the spoon against the edge of the bowl to get the last morsel out, she said, “Nothing happened and that’s that.”
Rising to her feet, she drew a deep breath. “Good. Now I need to let my clients know that I won’t be seeing them until Harold is back or until I can change Phillip’s—I mean Dr. White’s opinion about home births. I’ll go to work as usual at the office. I won’t say a thing unless he says something because nothing happened.”
Looking down, she said, “Do you hear me, Fluffy? Nothing happened.”
The cat didn’t stop eating to reply.
* * *
By Monday morning, Phillip had an adequate apology prepared and rehearsed. It had taken most of a sleepless night to compose, but he felt he’d achieved the right tone of repentance mixed with a touch of humor. Although he wasn’t eager to deliver it, he found he was eager to see Amber again.
At eight o’clock, he left his grandfather’s house and walked with quick steps the two blocks the office. As he rounded the last corner, he stopped in surprise. The parking lot in front of the office was filled with horses and buggies. A crowd of Amish people stood grouped near the front door.
Had there been some kind of epidemic outbreak to bring so many people in at once? As he walked toward the door, one elderly man with a long gray beard stepped forward and approached Phillip.
“I am Bishop Zook. May I have a word with you, Dr. White?”
“What’s going on, Bishop? Are these people sick?”
“No. We’ve come today to ask you to reconsider your decision to stop Nurse Bradley from delivering our babies.”
Phillip looked over the sea of Amish faces, both men and women, waiting for his reply. Many of the women had children at their sides or babies in their arms. None of them were smiling.
Amber had put them up to this. And to think he’d lost sleep planning to apologize for wanting to kiss her.
Shaking his head, he said, “I’m sorry, Bishop Zook. On this issue I cannot change my mind. The safest place for a woman to have a child is in the hospital.”
The bishop eyed him silently for a long moment. “A high court of Pennsylvania upheld our right to have our children at home and to use midwives.”
“This is Ohio, not Pennsylvania, sir.”
“We are a peaceful people, Doctor. It is not our way to make trouble. Your thinking on this matter jeopardizes our way of life. We must be separate from the world, a peculiar people set apart by our faith. Home births are natural and in keeping with God’s design.”
“I understand and admire your religious principles, but I have principles of my own. They won’t allow me to change my mind on this issue. Amber won’t be delivering babies. I will. Your women will have to go to the hospital or birthing clinic in Millersburg.”
“I am sorry you feel this way, Doctor. We will no longer be needing your services.” Turning around, he spoke to the crowd in Pennsylvania Dutch, leaving Phillip clueless as to what he was saying. Whatever he said, it started a buzz of low conversation in return.
“What’s going on here?”
Phillip spun around to see Amber standing a few feet away. “Oh, like you don’t know.”
“Sorry?” She stepped closer, a frown making a deep crease between her brows.
“Now you’re going to try and tell me you didn’t arrange this mob?”
“What are you talking about?”
He pointed to Bishop Zook. “Ask him.”
“I will. I’m sure he’ll at least be civil in his answers.”
Walking past Phillip, she stopped beside the bishop. They spoke in low tones and in the language Phillip couldn’t understand, but it was easy to see Amber was becoming upset.
Phillip crossed his arms over his chest and waited. If she hadn’t arranged this, he might have thought she was pleading with the church elder. After a few more minutes, the bishop turned and walked away. One by one, the buggies drove out of the parking lot until only one man was left standing by the door. It was David Nissley, Martha’s husband.
The look of indecision on his face moved Phillip to approach him. “Mr. Nissley, how is Martha?”
“Some better. She can move her legs now. Again, I wish to offer my thanks for your help that day. I say this now because I will not speak to you again.” He turned away, climbed into his buggy and left.
Phillip turned to Amber. “What does he mean?”
“It has been decided that you are an outsider who seeks to disrupt their ways. They will no longer have communication with you or do business with you.”
“I’m being shunned?”
Amber shook her head. “Only someone who departs from the teaching of the Amish faith is shunned. You’re being avoided. I can’t believe this. The Amish make up over fifty percent of our patient base.”
“You can’t believe this? Aren’t you the one who arranged it?”
She rounded on him with a deep scowl. “Why would I arrange this?”
“Payback because I won’t sign your collaborative practice agreement.”
“Are you serious? You think I’d do this?”
“Did you or did you not visit your clients and tell them I stopped you from making home deliveries?”
“I did. But I didn’t plan this.”
They were still glaring at each other when Wilma drove in and parked her old sedan beside the front door. She got out and gave them a funny look. “What’s going on?”
“I’m being shunned,” Phillip said, daring Amber to correct him.
Wilma shook her head. “You can’t be shunned. You aren’t a member of the Amish faith.”
He blew out a huff of pure frustration. “Okay, I’m being avoided.”
Wilma looked at Amber. “For real?”
Nodding, Amber said, “For real.”
“That’s not good.” Wilma pressed her hands to her face. “That’s really not good. The Amish are half our patients. We aren’t going to be able to make our expenses if they stop coming to the clinic. We’re barely making it as it is. Why, we could be broke in a matter of weeks.”
Phillip walked over and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t panic, Wilma. I’m sure this is a bluff on their part. People can’t do without medical care.”
Amber walked past them, shaking her head. “You underestimate the Amish, Dr. Phillip. Word will spread and the Amish will stop coming he
re. They’ve resisted changes that threaten their way of life for hundreds of years. They aren’t going to make an exception for you.”
Normally shy Wilma surprised Phillip when she shook off his hand and shouted at him, “You’re trying to shut this place down, aren’t you? Is that what you want? Well, you might get it. Then see how proud Harold is of you.”
Chapter Ten
When Amber arrived at the clinic the following morning, the walkway was lined with Amish women, most of them her clients. Almost all of them had their children with them. Katie Lantz stepped forward. She held her four-month-old daughter in her arms.
Katie said, “We have come to show our support for you. Dr. White must allow you to continue your work among us. It is God’s will.”
Amber’s hopes that Phillip hadn’t arrived yet were dashed. She glanced toward the clinic and saw him staring out the window in her direction. His usual frown was back in place.
Turning to Katie, Amber reached out to touch Rachel’s little bare feet where they stuck out of her blanket. “Danki, Katie.”
Mary Yutzi, Katie’s future sister-in-law, patted her round stomach. “We know you have a good place in your heart for our babies.”
Another woman said, “You have done so much for us, Amber. We wish to give back.”
Although she didn’t know if their tactics were helping or hurting, Amber was deeply moved by their support. Tears stung her eyes. Glancing around at the women, she said, “My thanks to each of you. I can’t tell you what this means to me.”
After delivering their promises of prayers and well wishes, the women left and Amber walked inside. Phillip, black coffee mug in hand, was still standing by the window.
He said, “You have a lot of friends.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Another group was waiting outside my house this morning. They gave me copies of the Pennsylvania court decision allowing their midwife to continue practicing in that state.”
“It was a huge victory for their way of life. Many hundreds of Amish showed up on the courthouse steps in support of the midwife on trial.”
“For practicing medicine without a license, I believe.”
“Yes, but the court ruled—”
He threw up his hands. “I know how the court ruled. You still claim you had nothing to do with these assemblies?”
Fisting her hands on her hips, Amber shouted, “I did not arrange this! What part of that don’t you understand?”
Shocked, he took a step back. “Isn’t this out of character for the quiet and simple Plain People?”
Crossing her arms, she reined in her anger and tried to sound reasonable. “Not really. When something threatens their teachings or way of life, they are willing to take peaceful action. When the states tried to make them send their children to high school, many were jailed for refusing to comply. They took their case all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court and won.”
Phillip took a sip of his coffee. Then without another word, he walked back to his office and shut the door.
Amber had no idea if he believed her claim or not.
* * *
By Friday afternoon, Amber knew the boycott of the clinic had become the talk of the town. Several non-Amish patients canceled their appointments to show their support of their neighbors.
None of the merchants in town wanted to upset the Amish by taking Phillip’s side. Most employed Amish men and women and many of their businesses depended on either the Amish themselves or the tourists who came to see them.
Even the mayor made a visit to Phillip asking him to reconsider. He stressed how the Amish were good for tourism and how tourism was good for the entire community. As far as Amber could see, Phillip remained unmoved.
Reluctantly, Amber admired the way he stuck to his principles in the face of so much pressure.
By late afternoon on Friday, the one patient that showed up was Gina Curtis. After taking her vital signs, Amber listened to her describe her usual recurring, traveling pains and made a few quick notes on her chart. Phillip was waiting outside the door when she left the room. She didn’t speak to him as she handed over the chart.
Still annoyed over the fact he believed she had set up the confrontation with the Amish, she tried her best to ignore him. Seating herself on the corner of Wilma’s desk, she noticed that Wilma’s long face matched her mood.
“How tight are the expenses, Wilma?”
“We’ve had very little income since Harold left. Our checking account is almost empty.”
“But the business has a reserve fund, doesn’t it?”
“Only enough to run the place for another month. You know how Harold is about his charities.”
“He’d give away the shoes off his feet.”
“And his smelly socks, too.” Wilma leaned forward. Worry set deep creases between her eyebrows. “What are we going to do?”
It was the same question that had been keeping Amber up at night. She gave Wilma the only answer she had. “We’re going to pray and we’re going to hold on until Harold gets back.”
“What if he doesn’t come back?”
“He has to. He just has to.”
Amber heard the exam room door open and stood up.
Phillip came down the hall with a look of deep concentration on his face. “I want to set up an appointment for Mrs. Curtis with a rheumatologist. Is there one Harold normally uses?”
“Dr. Abe Snider in Akron,” Amber said.
“Fine. See how soon they can get Mrs. Curtis in.”
He started to turn away but Amber wanted more of an explanation. “Why are you sending Gina to a rheumatologist?”
He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Because I suspect she has fibromyalgia. I think she’s been dismissed as a crackpot for years instead of getting the workup she deserves.”
Amber stared at him, aghast. “Are you insinuating your grandfather inadequately treated one of his patients? How dare you. Harold loves the people of this town. He’d do anything for them.”
Phillip stared at the chart in his hands for a long moment, then looked at her. “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m flat-out telling you. This woman has the symptoms of a real disease and she’s been left untreated. Because she complains a lot doesn’t mean she isn’t sick.”
Amber was speechless. Phillip handed her the chart. “I’ve ordered lab work, and I’m starting her on some medication for her pain.”
Turning to Wilma, he said, “I want to see Gina back in three weeks to assess if the medication helps her. Please put her on the schedule.”
With that, he walked away and left Amber staring open-mouthed behind him.
“Harold is a fine doctor,” Wilma stated emphatically. “He’s been the salvation of this town for more than thirty years.”
Still staring down the hall, Amber replied quietly, “Our only salvation is the Lord.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, Wilma. I’m going to be in my office for a while. Call me if you need anything.”
Walking down the hall, Amber paused outside the exam room door. She heard muffled voices but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Turning aside, she entered her office and sat at her computer.
For the next thirty minutes, she did an extensive search for information on fibromyalgia. After reading through the literature and surfing the Web sites, she conceded Phillip might be right.
Some of the stories from patients were heartwrenching. Many had been ignored by their physicians and made to feel like they were crazy or simply attention seekers. After proper treatment many had drastically improved lives.
Turning off her computer, Amber sat with her chin in her hand and her elbow on the desktop. Surely Harold had done a proper workup on Gina Curtis before deciding she was a hypochondriac. Amber thought back over the years the woman had been coming to the clinic and couldn’t recall one.
Had Harold been negligent? As hard as that was to accept, the idea stuck in Amber’s mind and co
uldn’t be dislodged. She idolized Harold. To know that he might have let Gina suffer all this time was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach. She rose from her desk and walked down the hall to Phillip’s office.
His door was open. He was seated at the desk studying a spreadsheet on Harold’s computer and making notes. He glanced up as she entered.
Looking around, she said, “I see you’ve made some inroads in taming the disorder.”
Waving to the stack of folders on the corner of the desk, he shook his head. “I’ve still got a long way to go.”
Picking up a journal that had fallen to the floor, Amber rolled it into a tight cone. “You know Harold will complain for months that he can’t find anything.”
“Then we will be even. I can’t find anything in here now.”
She walked over and sat in the chair across from him. “Have you had an update on Martha Nissley?”
“They were able to repair the fractured spine and she has recovered some use of her legs.”
Amber chewed the corner of her lip, then asked, “Do you think Harold blew off Gina’s symptoms?”
Phillip rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. I can’t find evidence that he sent her for a workup, and Gina says she’s only seen Harold. Ignoring complaints from people with this disease is more common that you think because of the vague and changing symptoms they have.”
“So I’ve learned as I’ve been reading. I feel horrible about this.”
Leaning back in his chair, Phillip gazed at her intently. “I’m not saying you and Harold are entirely to blame. These textbooks must be more than twenty years old. Many of the journals look like they’ve never been opened. I can’t tell if he’s done any online research.”
Unrolling the journal in her hand, she stared at the cover. “He hates using the computer. He told me he’d rather have real paper in his hands. There were never enough hours in the day to catch up on his reading.”