by Marta Perry
By this time they had reached the park. They found a picnic table in the shade of a pear tree and sat down. The park was deserted except for a few squirrels chattering as they raced from treetop to treetop. The faint breeze smelled of newly mown grass. Phillip opened his box just as Amber held out her hand and bowed her head. He grasped her hand and did the same.
She said, “We thank You, Lord, for the food that nourishes our body. Grant us Your comfort and Your grace as we work to do Your will. Amen.”
“Amen,” Phillip echoed. Slowly, he released her hand.
“What happened on your birthday?” She took a bite of her drumstick. Her gaze didn’t leave his face.
Drawing a deep breath, he said, “Mom’s boyfriend asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. She told him I was going to be a doctor like my father planned to be. It was the first I’d heard that my dad wanted to be a doctor. I cornered her later that night before she and what’s-his-name went out to party. I asked her what kind of doctor my dad wanted to be. She hemmed and hawed, but finally told me he wanted to be a family doctor.”
“Your father must have wanted to be like his own dad. I’m sure Harold would be happy to know that.”
Phillip took a drink, then said, “You once asked me how Harold and I found each other.”
“I remember. You said it was personal. I respect that.”
“I want to tell you now. Sometimes, when I’m in my grandfather’s house, I try to put myself in his place. I try to imagine what it would be like to live alone in that small house for thirty-four years. I stare at the walls and wonder what made him give up a lucrative practice in Boston to come to Hope Springs. I wonder what makes him stay. Did he ever tell you what brought him here?”
“No, and I never asked. By the time I began working here he was already a fixture, like the clock in the town square. I didn’t even know he came from Boston. Perhaps it was the death of his only son that made him leave.”
He shrugged. “Mother rarely talked about my father although I pestered her for information about him from the time I could talk. I was certain if he had lived my life would have been different. I thought my mother would have been happy. That we would live in a house instead of rented trailers and abysmal run-down apartments.”
“It’s easy to understand that you wanted to know him.”
“That’s the easy part. The rest is weird.”
“How so?”
“My mother never showed me a picture of my dad. Yet she kept it all those years. Through all the moves and all the crummy boyfriends. When I found it, I didn’t know who he was. I turned it over. On the back of the picture he’d written, ‘To my wife Natalie with all my love, Brendan.’ I was shocked.”
“What did she say when you asked her about it? She had to know how much you wanted to learn things about him.”
“She gave no explanation other than to say it was a personal item and for me to put it away.”
“That is weird. Perhaps it was too painful for her to look at.”
“That was always her excuse. Once I knew my dad had been in the military, I started searching his military records for some clues about what kind of man he was. That was how I found out about Harold. He was listed along with my mother as kin. My mother told me that my dad was an orphan, that he had no family.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t have a clue. She’s very good at avoiding uncomfortable situations. From the moment I learned of my grandfather’s existence, I spent every free minute and every free dime I had trying to track him down. I looked online, combed through old newspaper articles and public records. It was slow going. I finally hired a private detective in Boston to do the legwork for me.”
“And that’s how you found Harold?”
“The P.I. was a good investment. Within a week, he sent me Harold’s current address and the phone number of this clinic. I can’t begin to describe the emotions going through me at that moment.”
“To finally find your father’s father must have been wonderful.”
“My fingers were cold as icicles when I dialed the number. My heart was beating so hard I thought I might stroke out.”
Every word of that first conversation remained imprinted in Phillip’s mind. After explaining who he was and how he’d found Harold, Phillip waited for his grandfather’s reaction.
Amber said, “I imagine Harold was delighted to hear from you.”
“His reaction wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for. Harold was hard to convince. Who could blame him? To have me pop up out of nowhere after thirty-four years must have been a shock. I told him about the military records and the P.I. I left my phone number with him, then I hung up and waited.”
“He may have sounded hesitant when you were on the phone but I saw him when he came out of his office after speaking to you. There was such joy on his face. He didn’t share his news until a few days later but I knew something big was up.”
“That’s because he hired a P.I. to check me out first.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“He’s a smart man. A week after our first contact Harold called me. We began a tentative long-distance relationship. After nearly a year of e-mails and phone conversations, Harold announced he was ready to meet me. We both know how that turned out. I ran him down with my car.”
Reaching out, Amber laid a hand on his arm. “You never intended to hurt him, Phillip. It was an accident. You have to stop blaming yourself.”
Her gesture of comfort was exactly what he needed. A sense of peace settled in his bones. “You’re right. I can’t blame myself forever.”
* * *
Amber withdrew her hand. The warmth between them cooled as she concentrated on her pie. Words didn’t seem adequate but she needed to say something. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. I feel honored.”
“Thank you for listening.”
They finished their meal in silence. As they gathered their trash and disposed of it, he glanced at his watch. “Time to get back to work.”
And time to shift back into her professional mode. If only Phillip didn’t make it so hard for her to maintain that persona.
Having him share his unhappy childhood memories with her touched her deeply. Little by little he was creeping into her heart in a way she knew would lead to heartbreak. He’d be leaving in a few weeks. She simply had to get a grip on these emotions.
If only he weren’t such a wonderful person. Sure, they disagreed about a few things, important things. She could get downright angry with him but it never lasted long. He had a way of smoothing over the rough spots and making her like him all over again.
Besides being charming, he was wonderful with patients, especially the children. He attended the same church she did. He had strong Christian beliefs. He was growing to accept and care about the Amish and their ways.
Okay, he’s an almost perfect man. My mother would fall over backward with joy if I brought him home.
So why had the Lord brought such a wonderful man into her life if he wasn’t going to stay? It was a question she couldn’t answer. The ways of the Lord were not for her understanding.
Back at the office, they went through the rest of the day together without any more blowups or exchanged confidences. A little before five o’clock, they were in the lobby getting ready to close for the night.
Phillip said, “I still have to make my rounds at the hospital in Millersburg. I should get going.”
“And I need to see Mary and her baby.”
“Let me know how they’re doing.” He held up one hand. “Not because I don’t trust your professional expertise. Because I’d like to know how they’re getting along.”
Amber couldn’t help smiling. “I’ll call you later tonight.”
He stopped on his way to the door and glanced back. “I’ll look forward to that.”
Just then, the phone rang. Phillip waited as Wilma picked up. After exchanging a few pleasantries with the caller, she
covered the mouthpiece with one hand. “It’s Harold. He’d like to speak to both of you.”
Amber exchanged a worried glance with Phillip. He said, “We’ll take it in my office. Thank you, Wilma. You can go home.”
“I always miss the good stuff,” she grumbled as she gathered her purse.
“I’ll fill you in tomorrow morning,” Amber promised.
“You’d better.” She walked out the door, leaving Amber and Phillip alone.
Amber turned to face him. “Ready to accomplish your mission?”
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he asked, “What mission?”
“Don’t play dumb. Harold needs a partner. You get to tell him.”
“I can’t believe I gave in to you.”
She gave him a playful push toward his office. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right there beside you.”
“You’d better be.”
In the office, Phillip pressed the blinking light on the phone and set it to speakerphone mode. Leaning his hip against the corner of the desk, he said, “Hello, Grandfather. How are you?”
“Better than these morons give me credit for. If I were home I’d be doing great.”
Speaking up, Amber said, “Harold, I’m sure they know what’s best for you.”
“Enough about me. How is my practice?”
“It’s busy,” Phillip said with a questioning look at her.
“And Amber is back to work as a nurse-midwife?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Mary Yutzi had a little girl last night. Seven pounds, three ounces and twenty inches long.”
“Wonderful. What did they name her?” He sounded truly relieved and happy.
“Anna.” Phillip answered.
Harold chuckled. “Nettie must be over the moon to finally get a granddaughter. Give Mary my congratulations.”
Amber perched on a chair by the desk and leaned toward the speaker. “I will. I’m going out to the farm tonight to check on her and Anna.”
Looking at Phillip, Amber nodded toward the phone. He closed his eyes and said, “We’ve been busy here.”
“You mean since the boycott ended.”
Phillip flinched. “Even before the boycott, I was amazed at the number of patients you see.”
Harold replied, “Of course we’re busy. There’s a shortage of rural doctors, or haven’t you heard that in Hawaii?”
“I’ve heard. I was simply wondering if you had considered taking on a partner?”
“Ha! Find me one who’ll work for peanuts, see patients without insurance and make visits to homes without electricity, and I’ll take him on. It has to be a man, though. No offense, Amber.”
She grinned. “None taken. I know Amish men won’t use female doctors.”
Phillip said, “Let me be clear. You are okay with me advertising for a new physician to work with you?”
There was a long silence on the phone. Amber finally asked, “Harold, are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think about Phillip’s suggestion?”
“So the pair of you think I can’t do the job, anymore, is that it?”
“No!” they said in unison.
Phillip closed his eyes. “You aren’t a young man anymore. These people deserve to have your knowledge and skills passed on to someone who can help them far into the future. If you had died, what would have happened to them?”
“Don’t think that hasn’t crossed my mind, but I’m not ready to hang up my stethoscope.”
“Phillip didn’t say that you were,” Amber replied, trying to be reasonable.
“All right. Go ahead and advertise. You won’t find anyone.”
Phillip winked at Amber. “Then you should do as your doctors tell you so you can get back here and get to work soon.”
“Everyone sends their love and prayers,” Amber added.
“Give them my thanks.” Harold’s tone held a pensive quality that troubled Amber. The line went dead before she could ask him what was wrong.
Phillip rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Do you remember the name of the resident who wanted to join this practice?”
“I still have his card somewhere.” What was it that Harold hadn’t said? Amber couldn’t get his tone out of her mind.
Springing to his feet, Phillip said, “Great. Maybe the guy is still interested in working here. I can’t believe Harold agreed. That was easy.”
Amber continued to stare at the phone. “I’m not so sure.”
Chapter Eighteen
Phillip couldn’t believe how quickly the days were flying by. When he’d first agreed to spend two months in Ohio, it had seemed like a prison sentence. He couldn’t imagine being away from his beloved ocean for so long. Now he wished he had more time to spend with Amber.
They had done one more delivery together, a first baby for a non-Amish couple. In spite of Phillip’s worries, Amber conducted the whole experience so that both the young woman and her nervous husband had a happy and successful birthing experience.
As Amber and Hope Springs worked their way deeper into his heart, it became increasingly clear why Harold refused to give up medicine in this place. There was something so soothing and rich about the way these people lived.
He sat in his grandfather’s kitchen, absently tapping a pen on the table. He didn’t have to leave. He could be the man to work with his grandfather.
Tempting as the thought was, he knew it wouldn’t work. This wasn’t the kind of medicine he saw himself doing into his seventies. He imagined himself working in the finest modern medical center, diagnosing diseases and treating his patients with the best tools available.
Coming to Hope Springs had clarified one issue for him. It was the sick children that called to his soul. Sick children like little Helen Lapp with her bad heart. If anyone deserved the finest care, it was children like her.
Wilma was waiting for him when he reached the clinic. Not once since arriving in Hope Springs had he beaten the woman to the office. He wasn’t sure that she didn’t sleep there. She said, “The Lapp family is here as you requested.”
“Good, thank you. Please hold my calls.”
He had little Helen’s report from the cardiologist. He had asked for a family meeting to discuss it.
In his office, he found Mr. and Mrs. Lapp waiting for him. They looked like any other Amish couple he might pass on the street. She wore a dark blue dress and apron. On her head she wore a dark bonnet with a wide brim.
Her husband had on a dark suit and held his black felt hat in his hands. They could have been any Amish couple in Hope Springs except for the intense worry in their eyes.
Phillip sat behind his desk. “How is Helen?”
“Some better,” her mother answered.
“As I’m sure Dr. Yang discussed with you, Helen has a heart defect called an atrial septal defect.”
Her father nodded. “Ja, she will need surgery soon to fix her heart.”
“Yes. In studying her cardiologist’s report, I see that her disease is genetic in nature. Do you know what that means?”
They looked at each other and shook their heads.
“She has Ellis-van Creveld syndrome. That means your future children are at risk for the same type of dwarfism and heart defects.”
“But I have two fine sons,” Mr. Lapp insisted.
“I know. I merely wanted you to be aware of the risks for any other children. Your sons need to know that their children may have the same problems.”
“It was Gottes Wille that our daughter was born this way. We accept that.” Mrs. Lapp spoke at last. She sat with her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her knuckles white with tension.
Her husband nodded. “If He sends us more children like Helen, we will accept that, too.”
Phillip sat back in his chair. “We have no way to cure Helen. Surgery isn’t a complete fix. Any colds or coughs can quickly turn serious for her, so please don’t hesitate to come see me if she becomes ill again.”
&n
bsp; “Danki, Doktor.” Rising, Mr. Lapp nodded, then walked out the door. His wife hung back.
Looking at Phillip, she asked, “What can be done so that my sons don’t have such children?”
“They can be tested for the defective gene. If they don’t carry it, their children will not have Helen’s disease.”
She took a step closer. “And if they do carry it?”
“In that case, the way to prevent them from having a child with her defect would be to screen the women they wish to marry to see if they carry the gene.”
“If they both have this gene?”
Sighing deeply, he said, “Their children will have a one in four chance of having Ellis-van Creveld syndrome.”
“So God decides?”
“Yes. I’m not an expert on this disease, Mrs. Lapp. If you’d like, I can make an appointment for you to see a genetic specialist.”
“No.” She left his office and caught up with her husband waiting outside.
Phillip watched them leave and knew they both carried heavy hearts. The specialist believed Helen had only a fifty-fifty chance of reaching adulthood. Phillip prayed God would give them the strength and comfort they needed to deal with such devastating news.
Turning back to his desk, he stared at the books in his grandfather’s case. Pulling down one with numerous bits of paper sticking out, he read the title. Noted Patterns of Human Malformation.
Leafing though the pages of the text, Phillip saw Harold had made dozens of comments in the margins, mostly dates and occasional names.
“Are you looking for something special?”
He turned at the sound of Amber’s voice. She was standing in the doorway. She had on her usual pale blue scrubs and white lab coat. He heard Wilma call out a question to her. Turning around, she stepped into the hall to answer. When she did, he saw that her hair hung to her hips in a shimmering honey-colored curtain. The sight robbed him of breath.
When she turned back to face him, he closed his mouth and asked, “What did you say?”
“I asked if you were looking for something special?”