The Amish Bride

by Mindy Starns Clark

  “Thanks,” I answered. “I’m praying for Ada too.”

  THIRTY

  Ten minutes later Ezra pulled into the driveway of the cottage. He turned sharply, positioning the bike perpendicular to the walkway that led to the front door. It was obvious he didn’t plan to come in with me.

  “Where are you going?” I pulled the helmet off my head and straightened my head covering.

  “Bishop Fisher’s house. To talk to him about us.”

  I blushed.

  “About you joining the church, all of that. We’re still planning on that, right?”

  I nodded. “But what if Will needs you tonight?” What if I need you?

  Ezra smiled. “He won’t. Alexander’s there. And everyone else. They’ll be fine.”

  I cleared my throat.

  “I’ll come by in a couple of hours. To check in.”

  “Thanks…” I expected him to be more of a help. A year ago, he would have done better.

  He flashed me his killer smile. “Your dad doesn’t need me around, right? Neither does Ada. I’ll be back. I promise.” He waved and then sped away. By the time he reached the highway, a car was pulling into the driveway. Most likely Izzy’s driver.

  I climbed the steps and let myself in.

  Izzy was huddled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Mom had said she didn’t feel well, but clearly that was an understatement. Izzy looked terribly ill—and I said as much to her now.

  “I know. I have a fever and my throat is killing me. I just hope I didn’t expose Zed.” As an afterthought, she added, “And I hope it’s not strep.”

  I wrinkled my nose. It had come on pretty quickly, which I knew strep could do.

  “Guess I’ll find out soon. The driver is taking me straight to the doctor.”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  “Your mom wrote out all the instructions. They are on the counter. He’s having a hard time getting out of bed. You’ll have to help him.”

  I must have wrinkled my nose again because she said, “Don’t worry. He’s still getting himself to the bathroom. Your mom said the aide will start tomorrow.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I said.

  “Freddy’s sleeping now. He has a bell to ring when he needs something.”

  After she left I found a can of disinfectant under the kitchen sink and sprayed it everywhere. Then I ventured upstairs to my old room. Zed’s clothes were on the pegs, but the quilt Mammi had made me was still on the bed and the rag rug was on the floor.

  I noticed Lexie’s suitcase in the corner, zipped up tight.

  I headed back downstairs and settled into the wingback chair in the living room, not wanting to risk any of Izzy’s lingering germs on the couch. I fell asleep immediately.

  When I awoke, the cottage was dark, my cell phone was ringing, and a faint sound from a bell tinkled from faraway.

  I pulled the cell from my apron pocket as I made my way to Zed’s old room.

  “How are things?” It was Mom on the phone.

  “Good,” I said. “I think Freddy just woke up. How’s Zed?” I passed through the kitchen and rapped quickly on the bedroom door just off of it.

  The ring of the bell grew louder. I eased the door open.

  “He was awake again for a little bit. He asked about you.”

  My eyes filled with tears. “When will you be home?” I stood in the doorway of what had been Zed’s room, not wanting to go any farther.

  “Late,” Mom said.

  “Izzy?” Freddy’s voice sounded confused.

  “I’d better go,” I said to my mother. “Call me back.”

  I took a deep breath as I stepped into the room.

  It smelled stale with a hint of antiseptic. Freddy squinted up at me in the dim light from a hospital bed.

  He was bald, his hair probably taken from him by the chemo. His skin was pale, and he was thin. I searched his face, looking for some sort of resemblance. Had I inherited his chin? His eyes? I couldn’t see anything noticeable. Zed looked far more like him than I did. No sense of connection swept over me. I felt absolutely numb as I stared at the man who had fathered me.

  “You must be the home health nurse.”

  I hesitated for a moment. I could tell him I was filling in for Izzy without ever admitting who I was. I took a step toward the bed. “Actually—”

  He looked spent.

  “The aide is coming tomorrow. I’m just filling in.” It wasn’t a lie. Not at all.

  “Could you help me?” He slipped his feet over the side of the bed and sat up straight. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved nightshirt, even though the room was warm.

  I pretended he was Mammi, the way she was a few years ago, and put my arms around him, set my feet, and lifted. I could feel his shoulder blades through his cotton shirt. I waited until I felt him catch his balance and then let go. He shuffled toward the door where Zed’s closet was. Except it wasn’t a closet anymore—it was the new bathroom. I followed, walking behind him, in case he started to fall.

  I thought of Luke saying that to truly forgive someone meant to no longer resent them. I sighed as Freddy closed the door behind him. I was beginning to understand what Luke meant—but I wasn’t there yet.

  After Freddy came out of the bathroom, he crawled back into bed. I asked him if he wanted something to eat.

  He nodded. “And my pain medicine.”

  I returned with a ramekin of homemade custard I found in the fridge and his pills a few minutes later. His hand shook as he lifted the spoon to his mouth, and then he laid back, his head on his pillow, extending the empty cup for me to take. I waited a moment and then held the glass of water, positioning the straw so he could take his pills.

  As he swallowed, his eyes met mine. He coughed a little and then said, “So you’re just filling in?”

  I nodded. “Just for today. Because Izzy is sick.”

  “When will Marta be back?”

  “Tonight,” I answered.

  “Do you know how Zed is?”

  “Better,” I answered. “He was awake again not too long ago.” I knew Izzy would have told Freddy about Zed having come out of the coma. I glanced at the bell beside the bed. “Ring if you need anything.”

  He put the glass down and settled his head back on his pillow. “If Marta calls, tell her I want to talk with her before she comes home. I want to ask her something about Ella.”

  “Ella?” I tried to keep my voice even.

  “Our daughter,” he said. “She doesn’t want to see me.” He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, startling me, and then he exhaled and turned away. “She’s out in Indiana right now.”

  “Oh?” So Mom hadn’t told him I’d returned.

  He didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally he said, “Just let me know if Marta calls.”

  I stepped out of the room, my heart racing.

  I scrubbed the kitchen counters and then started a pot of soup, using a ham bone I found in the refrigerator. Next I baked a lemon chiffon cake, Zed’s favorite. I’d take him a piece the next day, God willing.

  I was scrubbing the mixing bowl when I heard the bell. I rinsed my hands, flung the dishtowel over my shoulder, and went to see what Freddy needed.

  “I can’t seem to get comfortable,” he said.

  All I could think of to do was fluff his pillows. Then I remembered the nurse changing Zed’s position every few hours.

  “How about if we raise the bed a little and put a pillow under your knees?”

  “The pain is definitely worse,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.” I genuinely was. I wished I could help him. Maybe the next time the hospice nurse came, she could increase his meds.

  He wiggled his legs under the covers and then flopped his head to the side, away from me.

  I started toward the door, at a loss of what to do, but then I stopped. Maybe talking would help distract him.

  “I heard you haven’t been in Lancaster long,” I said. “Where did you come fro
m?”

  He turned his head back toward me and squinted. I wasn’t sure if he was going to answer me or not, but finally he spoke.

  “I was working near Chicago, doing construction, lucky to have a job at all, when I started feeling bad. The doctors thought it was one thing and then another. An allergy. Acid reflux. Then an ulcer. I’m an alcoholic, and although I hadn’t had a drink for a few years, I thought maybe I was paying the piper for all of that. Soon I was missing work and could hardly keep any food down. That’s when I decided to come back here.”

  He took a shallow breath and then exhaled slowly. “I was a fool. Such a fool. Do you know my family very well?”

  I shrugged.

  “Marta was what I needed, but I couldn’t see that. Instead, I was off chasing anything I could, Plain or fancy. I did exactly what my dad did—but worse.” He paused again.

  “I left. Even after Marta forgave me,” he said. “What’s amazing is she’s forgiven me again. And Zed. I asked them to, that first night I saw them, and they did. And…” His eyes filled with tears. “They have taken me in.” He was crying.

  I pulled a tissue from the box and handed it to him, thinking I should pat his hand or something, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  He sighed. “I thought Marta would blame me for Zed getting hit. I know he was rushing back because of me.”

  Or because of Izzy.

  “But Marta hasn’t held anything against me.” He blew his nose. “I just wish my daughter would give me a chance.”

  I took a deep breath. The room was too warm. I wiped my hand on my apron and then raised it to my forehead. I’d just spun quite the little web by deceiving him.

  He leaned back against the bed. “I finally understand God’s love. Marta and Zed have shown it to me.” He closed his eyes and was quiet for a long moment. Finally he said, “Thanks for listening,” he said. “I’m going to try to rest now.”

  “Ring when you need me.”

  Ezra came back as I was taking the cake out of the oven. I offered him a bowl of soup, but he said he’d eaten with the Fishers. He leaned against the counter. “So the bishop says you need to go to the bishop in this district. Or else move over to ours.”

  “Okay…” Not even Mammi was in Ezra’s district.

  “I was thinking that maybe you could live with Will and Ada.”

  I grimaced. “I can’t imagine Will being open to that.”

  “I think he would. Once he knows you’re going to join the church for sure.”

  “Let’s wait. I’m thinking Mom will need me here…” Soon we’d have Zed to take care of too, if Freddy lasted until he came home.

  The handbell began to ring again.

  “Want to come meet Freddy?” I put the oven mitts back in the drawer.

  “Nah. I already have.”

  “Really?”

  “Ya, a couple of times.”

  My stomach knotted. And he hadn’t told me.

  “I’m going to stop by my friend Jason’s house. He’s interested in buying the bike.”

  “Could you stay? Freddy seems pretty sick.”

  “Your mom will be home soon, right?”

  I explained that she would be getting home late as the bell rang again.

  “I’d better go see what he needs.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ezra gave me a quick hug.

  “I’ll be at Mammi’s.”

  “So will I,” he said, starting toward the living room. “To see my new niece or nephew.” He glanced over his shoulder, grinning at me, as if his smile alone could make everything all right. The sad thing was, I used to think that was true.

  I heard the front door close as I stepped into Freddy’s room.

  “I’m sorry.” He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet dangling. “I couldn’t make it to the bathroom.”

  The custard had come back up, all over the front of his nightshirt.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  Convicted of my insensitivity, I shook my head. “It’s not your fault. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I unbuttoned the shirt and slipped it off his arms as he told me to look in the top drawer of the dresser for a clean one. Next I ran warm water over a washcloth and then cleaned his face and chest. He was emaciated, and I could tell that just the touch of the cloth was painful.

  When I’d finished, I asked if he needed help getting to the bathroom.

  He answered that he didn’t as he collapsed back on the bed. I suspected he needed more pain meds, especially after getting sick, but I wasn’t sure how much was still in his system and therefore how much I should give him, so I didn’t mention it.

  I started to leave when he asked me to wait.

  “You didn’t tell me your name,” he said.

  I stopped and turned slowly.

  “What is it?” He had his head turned toward me, his brown eyes wide.

  I left the room. Feeling horrible, I collapsed into the wingback chair. Why hadn’t Ezra stayed? I’d never felt so alone in my life.

  Thy will be done. “What is Your will?” I whispered out loud. “Please show me Your will.”

  I peeked in on Freddy a little later, and his eyes were closed. I decided to make the frosting for the cake so I could ice it as soon as it had cooled. As I was beating the butter and sugar, my phone began vibrating in my pocket. I dug it out quickly, hoping it was Mom. It wasn’t. The number that showed up was Rosalee’s bakery.

  I answered, anticipating Rosalee was calling to check on me and relieved that someone cared. I blurted out an eager “Hello.”

  “Ella, it’s Luke.”

  “Oh, Luke,” I said, tears filling my eyes.

  “I was praying for you and decided to call—”

  Before he could say another word, I was pouring out my story to him, blubbering on about Zed and Freddy.

  “He doesn’t know it’s me,” I said. “And I’m afraid he doesn’t have much time left.”

  “I know this is hard for you,” he said. “And I don’t think before that I listened enough to how you felt—but if you’re not honest with him tonight you might not have another chance.”

  “I know,” I wailed.

  “Do you feel that you could tell him? I’ll pray. And then call me back. I’ll wait until I hear from you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” he said.

  I hung up and tiptoed back into Freddy’s room. He opened his eyes when I stopped at the side of his bed. He tried to raise his head but couldn’t. I wedged the pillow under it a little more, giving him some height.

  “I didn’t answer you,” I said.

  “I know,” he whispered.

  “My name is Ella.”

  “What a coincidence—” he stopped.

  Even though it seemed as if he’d comprehended it on his own, I said, “Your daughter, Ella.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, our eyes locked. Tears welled up, and he swallowed hard before he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He reached out for my hand. I let him take it.

  “I know.”

  He began to cry. “Did you get my letter?”

  I nodded.

  When I didn’t say anything more, he continued, “I am so proud of you—and Zed. Walking away from all of you is the stupidest thing I could have ever done. Can you forgive me?”

  “Yes,” I answered. And I had. I realized that in the middle of changing his nightshirt the resentment was gone. He was a broken, dying, sorry man, one who had reached out and received God’s grace.

  God had forgiven him. How could I not do likewise?

  I stayed in his room for a while, sitting on the chair that Mom, Zed, or Izzy must have occupied for the last few weeks. I didn’t frost the cake. Or wash up the dishes. I just sat, holding his hand and watching him.

  He told me how cute I was when I was little, how much I talked, and how smart I was. “You’re wonderful now too,” he sa
id. “I see God’s beauty in you.”

  I didn’t know how to answer, but that didn’t matter. He kept talking. “You had a right to stay away from me, to feel the way you did.”

  It was my turn to get emotional.

  “I didn’t blame you, not at all,” he said. “I’m just thankful you were willing to see me now.”

  I nodded, and he closed his eyes. After he was finally asleep I went back to the living room and called Luke. I told him how it went.

  He didn’t say much, just that he thought I’d done the right thing and that I’d never regret it. I agreed.

  Mom came home an hour later. She said Zed had been quite talkative the last time he awoke and was then resting well when she left. The doctor said it was possible he would make a full recovery. Right now they were most concerned about his concussion and keeping him calm. She told me to go to bed in her room because she was going to sleep on the couch and see to Freddy.

  I asked about Ada.

  “Her labor slowed. Last I heard she was about ready to push. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  “Do you want to go over there? I can watch Freddy.”

  She gave me a funny look and then said, “No. I’d rather be here.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him I was coming home?”

  She rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t want to disappoint a dying man.” Her eyes locked on mine. “It was his last wish—his only wish.” She reached out to me then, hugging me tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Ella. You’ve done a beautiful thing.”

  In the morning I woke to the slamming of car doors and footsteps on the porch. I hurried down the stairs in Mom’s robe. There were two men dressed in suits standing in the living room with Mom.

  She turned toward me. “Freddy passed during the night.” Her voice shook.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Mom?”

  She fell into my arms then. “He went quickly. I didn’t expect it so soon.” She took my hand and led me to his bed, while the two men stayed in the living room.

  My father’s eyes were closed, and his face was peaceful.

  “He went in his sleep,” she said. “I think he hung on until he saw you, and then he finally let go.”