He left her to see her patient and retreated to the small refreshment room beside his grandfather’s office. Making coffee took only a few minutes. As he waited for the pot to fill, he studied the array of mugs hanging from hooks beneath the cabinet. Which one belonged to Amber?
He ruled out the white one that said World’s Greatest Grandma in neon pink letters. Beside it hung two plain black mugs, one with a chipped lip. Somehow he knew those belonged to his grandfather. That left either the white cup with yellow daises around the rim or the sky blue mug with 1 John 3:18 printed in dark blue letters.
1 John 3:18. He pulled down the mug. He didn’t know his Bible well enough to hazard a guess at the meaning of the passage, but he filed it away to look up later.
Studying medicine, working as a resident and then setting up a practice had consumed his life. All of which left him time to eat or maybe sleep, but rarely both. Even his surfing time had dropped to almost nothing. Bible study had fallen by the wayside, but it looked as if he’d have some free time now. How busy could he be in a small town like this? The next two months stretched before him like an eternity.
He’d do his best while he was here. He knew how much this place meant to his grandfather. Taking over until things were settled was the least he could do. After all, it was his fault Harold wasn’t here.
Putting aside that painful memory, Phillip carried the blue mug to the coffee dispenser. If this wasn’t Amber’s cup, at least it was clean. He filled it, then added the creamer and sugar. Taking down the grandmother mug, he filled it, too. After stuffing a couple of sugar and creamer packages in his pocket, he carried the cups to the front desk.
Wilma was on the phone, so he set her cup on the corner and held up the condiments in a silent query. She shook her head and mouthed the words, “Just black.” She reached for the mug, took a quick sip, then continued her conversation. That left him with Amber’s cup in hand.
He’d already discovered the clinic layout when he’d arrived early that morning. He knew Amber’s office was the one beside his grandfather’s, while two exam rooms occupied the opposite side of the short hallway.
Entering her office, he took note of the plain white walls devoid of pictures or mementos. The starkness didn’t seem to fit her vibrant personality. Her furniture was another story.
Her desk was a simple-yet-graceful cherrywood piece with curved legs and a delicately carved matching chair. Her computer sat on a small stand beside the desk, as if she couldn’t bear to put something so modern on such a classic piece. Everything about the room was neat and tidy. He liked that.
After setting her cup on a coaster at the edge of her desk, he returned to his grandfather’s office. Nothing in it remotely hinted at neat or tidy.
Stacks of medical journals, books and file folders sat on every flat surface. Some had meandered to the floor around his grandfather’s chair. The tall bookcases on the back wall were crammed full of textbooks. A number of them had pieces of paper sticking out the tops as if to mark important places.
Harold’s computer sat squarely in the middle of his large oak desk. On either side of the monitor were two pictures. Phillip reached past the photo of himself standing by his surfboard to pick up a framed portrait of a young man in a marine dress uniform.
He’d seen this picture before. One like it hung in his grandfather’s house where he’d spent the night last night. A third copy sat in a box at the back of his mother’s closet. The young marine was the father he never knew.
Phillip searched the face that looked so much like his own. All his life he’d aspired to be a person his father would have been proud of. He got good grades, played baseball, learned to surf, things his mother told him his father had done or wanted to do. His dad was even the reason he’d become a physician.
As a child he’d hungered for any crumb of information his mother would share about his dad. Those crumbs were all too rare. Whenever he would ask questions about his father, her reply was always the same: it was too painful to talk about that time of her life.
He could understand that. Much of his early life was painful to talk about, too.
Engrossed in the past, he didn’t hear the door open. He thought he was alone until Amber spoke. “You look like him.”
He set the picture back in its place. “So I’ve been told.”
Amber moved to stand at his side. “I can see it in the arch of your brow and your square chin, but especially your eyes.”
“Did you know he was killed in action?”
“I asked Harold once what happened to his son. He said he didn’t want to talk about it. I never asked again.”
“My father was killed in some third world country trying to rescue American citizens who’d been kidnapped.”
“You must be very proud of him.”
It was hard to be proud of an image on paper. Yet it had been the picture that led Phillip to his grandfather. Finding Harold had been like a gift from God.
What Phillip still didn’t understand was why his mother had kept his grandfather’s existence a secret for more than thirty years. She’d been furious when he announced he had contacted Harold. She wouldn’t say why.
Many of his questions about his father had been answered in the long phone conversations he and Harold had shared, but like his mother, Harold refused to talk about his relationship with his daughter-in-law. It seemed the reason for the family breakup might never come to light.
Amber cleared her throat. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Her voice broke his connection with the past and catapulted him into the present. Face-to-face with a task he knew would be distasteful.
How was she going to take it? He hated scenes. His mother had made enough of them in his life.
He lifted a stack of medical journals from a chair and added them to a precarious pile on the desk. “Please, have a seat.”
When she did, Phillip hesitated a few seconds, but quickly decided there was no point beating around the bush. Pulling out his grandfather’s chair, he sat behind the desk and faced her. “I’ve been doing some research on Ohio midwifery.”
A look of surprise brightened her eyes. “That’s great. It’s very important that I resume my practice as soon as possible. I have four patients due this month. Without Harold available, I’ve had to send them to a clinic that’s twenty miles from here. That’s a hardship for families who travel by horse and buggy. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to be getting back to my real work.”
He hated knowing he was about to crush her excitement. “You have a collaborative practice agreement only with my grandfather, is that correct?”
“Yes, but I can easily modify the agreement, listing you as my primary backup. I’ll print off a copy ASAP. You can sign it and I can start seeing patients again.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
A puzzled look replaced the happiness on her face. Then she relaxed and nodded. “Yes, you can. In this state, I’m not required to partner with an OB/GYN. I can legally work with a Family Practice physician.”
“I’m aware of that. I’m telling you I won’t sign such an agreement. I strongly believe the safest place for a woman to labor, give birth and recover is in a hospital or a well-equipped birthing center near a hospital.”
Amber shot to her feet. “Are you serious? Do you know what this means?”
Sitting forward, he steepled his fingers together. “It means you can’t legally deliver babies or treat patients as a midwife unless you agree to do so in a hospital.”
It took less than a second for the storm brewing behind her stunning eyes to erupt. She leaned forward and braced her arms on the desktop. Each word could have cut stone. “Your grandfather and I have worked diligently to get the Amish women in this community to use a certified nurse-midwife instead of an illegal lay midwife. There are still numerous Amish midwives practicing under the radar in this area. Some of them are highly skilled, but some are not. I have the equipment and training to han
dle emergencies that arise. I’m well qualified. I’ve delivered over five hundred babies.”
“All without complications?”
Her outrage dimmed. Caution replaced it. “There have been a few problems. I carry a cell phone and can get emergency services quickly if they’re needed.”
“I’m sorry, this isn’t open for discussion. As long as I’m here, there will be no home deliveries. However, I’d like you to remain as my office nurse. We’ll talk later about you handling hospital deliveries.”
Pushing off his desk, she crossed her arms. “Does Harold know you’re shutting down my practice?”
He thought he was being patient with her, but now he glared back. “I don’t intend to worry my grandfather with the day-to-day running of the office nor should you. His recovery depends on decreasing his stress level.”
“Oh, rest assured, I won’t go tattle to him. But you’re making a big mistake. You can’t change the way the Amish live by dictating to them. If I’m not doing home deliveries, someone else less qualified will.”
Spinning on her heels, she marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
Clenching his jaw, Phillip sat back. He had hoped Miss Bradley would be reasonable about this. It seemed he was mistaken. Too bad. He wasn’t about to back down on this issue. No matter what the lovely nurse-midwife wanted.
Chapter Three
“If that man thinks I’m gonna lay down and take this, he has another think coming!”
Three days after her first unhappy meeting with Phillip, Amber was still fuming. They had been working together getting the clinic back up and running full-time, but things remained tense. He refused to alter his stance on home births.
Amber sat at a back booth in the Shoofly Pie Café with her friend, Katie Lantz, across from her. Katie was dressed in the traditional Plain style with a solid green dress, white apron and a white organdy prayer kapp covering her dark hair. Amber knew outsiders would never suspect Katie had once lived in the English world. The room was empty except for the two women.
“What can you do about it?” Katie’s lilting voice carried a rich Pennsylvania Dutch accent. She took a sip of hot tea from a heavy white mug.
“I’m thinking.” Amber drummed her fingers on the red Formica tabletop.
“You’ll lose your license if you deliver babies, ja?”
“Ja. Unless I find another doctor who’ll support me.”
Katie brightened. “Why not ask Dr. Drake over in Haydenville?”
“Because Doctor Drake, great doctor that she is, is a DO, a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine. The state requires my backup to be a Family Practice physician or OB/GYN. Most clinics and MDs won’t partner with a midwife who does home births. They don’t want to pay the huge malpractice insurance fees that go along with it. Dr. Harold is one of the few physicians who’ll take the risk.”
“Because the Amish do not sue.”
“Right.”
“This is not so easy a problem to solve.” Katie tapped her lower lip with one finger.
Propping an elbow on the table, Amber settled her chin on her hand. “I wish I could talk to Harold about it.”
“Why can’t you? It is his office. He should have some say in how it is being run.”
“The last thing he needs is to hear his beloved long-lost grandson and I are at loggerheads. In that respect, Phillip is right. Harold doesn’t need more stress. When he’s better and comes home, things will get back to normal. In the meantime, I’ll keep looking for a doctor who’ll partner with me. Until then, I’ll have to bear with Dr. Phillip while I work on changing his mind.”
“I have met your doctor. He had lunch here yesterday. He’s a handsome man.”
Amber rolled her eyes. “Is he handsome? I hadn’t noticed.”
“For an Englisher, he’s not bad. Those dark eyes are hot.”
“They’re blue, and a good Amish woman should not say a man is ‘hot.’”
Katie giggled. “I am Amish, I am not dead. If you know what color his eyes are, you’ve been looking, too.”
“Okay, I noticed he is a nice-looking man, but handsome is as handsome does. What he’s doing isn’t handsome.”
“You’re right. Elam’s sister, Mary, will be so upset if she must go to the hospital to have this baby. She didn’t have a good experience there with her first child.”
Elam Sutter was a special someone in Katie’s life. He and his mother, Nettie, took her in when she had returned from the English world destitute and pregnant. That act of kindness had blossomed into love for the pair. His sister, Mary Yutzi, had only recently become a patient of Amber’s.
“Elam’s mother convinced Mary you would do a better job. For less money, too.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Amber’s mouth. “I’m glad Nettie Sutter thinks I do good work. Thank her for the recommendation.”
It had taken years but Amber was finally finding acceptance among the majority of the Amish in the area. People like Nettie Sutter were the key. Older and respected, their word counted for a lot with the younger women in the community.
Amber took a sip of her tea, letting the warmth of the gourmet blend soothe away some of her irritation. “Two of my expectant mothers have appointments today. I’ll let them know what’s going on when they come to the office. As for the rest of my clients, I can visit their homes on Sunday to explain things and prepare them.”
“It is our church Sunday. Everyone will be at Levi Troyer’s farm. It will save you some miles if you come there after the service.”
“Thank you. If you’re sure it’s all right, I’ll drop in. Of course, I might not need to. In this tight-knit community, the word may have spread already.”
“Ja, you could be right.”
“How is Elam, by the way?” Amber smiled in spite of her unhappiness as a blush bloomed in Katie’s cheeks.
A soft smile curved her lips. “He is well.”
“And the wedding? When will it be?”
Katie’s eyes grew round. “What?”
Amber started laughing. “The whole countryside is talking about how much celery Elam planted this year. It won’t come as a surprise to anyone when you have the banns read.”
Creamed celery was a traditional food served at every Amish wedding. Leafy stalks of it were also used to decorate the tables. When a family’s garden contained a big crop of celery, everyone knew there would be a wedding in the fall.
Blushing sweetly, Katie dropped her gaze. “We don’t speak of such things before the time comes.”
Amish marriage banns were read only a few weeks before the wedding. Until then, the engagement was kept a secret, sort of. Speculating about who would be getting hitched during the months of November and December was a popular pastime.
Amber said, “I’m sorry to tease.”
Katie glanced around, then leaned close. “Not all of the celery is for Elam and me.”
“Really?” Amber was intrigued. Elam lived with his widowed mother. All his sisters and older brothers were already married.
Sitting back, Katie smiled. “I will say no more.”
“Now you’ve got me curious. Is someone courting Nettie?”
“Perhaps, but she isn’t the only one with a new beau.” Leaning forward, Katie tipped her head toward her boss. Emma Wadler was busy cleaning behind the counter.
“Emma and who?” Amber whispered.
Katie refused to comment. Knowing when to give up, Amber said, “I’m sure you and Elam will be very happy together.”
“And Rachel.”
“That’s right, we can’t forget little Rachel. She was my five-hundredth delivery. Did I ever tell you that?”
“No. Looking back all those months ago, I thought it was the worst night of my life. I was unwed, homeless and without family. I didn’t see how things could get much worse. I couldn’t see it would become the best night of my life. I met Elam, I met you, my friend, and I had a beautiful baby girl. Gott has a plan for us even w
hen we can’t see it.”
“If you’re trying to tell me God will take care of my troubles, I already know that. But I can’t sit idly by. I’ve got to take action. Get my own ox out of the well, if you will.”
Katie stirred a drizzle of honey into her tea. “I might be able to help.”
“How?”
“Perhaps I should talk with some of Elam’s family before I say anything. This may be a matter to bring before the church district.”
Frowning in concern, Amber said, “I don’t want you to do anything that will cause trouble for you, Katie. I know you recently took your vows and were baptized into the Amish Church.”
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about the women who are depending on you.”
They were the reason Amber was upset, not for herself. She glanced at her watch. “I should get back to the office. Dr. Phillip is trying to organize some of Harold’s files. Truthfully, they need it. Harold has a terrible time putting things in their place.”
“A day with the furchtbar Dr. Phillip and old files. Sounds like poor fun to me.”
“He’s not terrible. I’m wrong to make him sound that way. The community needs a doctor while Harold is gone and Phillip has put his own career on hold to come here.”
“Ja, we do need a doctor.”
“Even if he’s a wonderful doctor, I just can’t like him. He’s so different from Harold,” Amber muttered, knowing it made her sound like a petulant third grader.
Rising, Katie chuckled. “We must forgive those who trespass against us, Amber.”
“I know,” she admitted. “I’m working on it.”
“And I also must get back to work.”
“I haven’t asked before, but do you like your job here at the Inn?” The café was part of the Wadler Inn, run by Emma and her elderly mother.
“Emma is a good woman to work for. Her mother enjoys watching Rachel while I work. It does fine for me now.”
“Until you marry and become a stay-at-home wife and mother.”
The Doctor's Blessing Page 2