He rested the tines of the pitchfork in the ground. “The phone call seems to have helped you find a little perspective on today.”
“Yeah.” She squeezed the phone in the palm of her hand. “Martin.” She slid her phone into her pocket and ran her fingers over the ring he’d given her. “The first time I met him,” she laughed, “it was after a rather ugly argument.”
“So you argued with him and then met him?”
“Yeah. But the argument wasn’t my fault.”
Suppressing a smile, he answered, “Uh, yes, I … I’m sure it wasn’t.”
She blinked, staring at him before a whispery laugh escaped her, and he joined her. Silence followed, a welcome kind of truce of some sort. “So now what?”
“You listen to more reasons why the Better Path is the best place for Sarah?”
“Let’s skip that for now and assume my opinion is outnumbered by you and Sarah, then what?”
“You take her there and get her forms filled out. I’ll follow in my car and do what needs to be done to get a psychiatrist on site. Maybe not today, but some psychological testing will need to be done by tomorrow afternoon and a step-by-step plan developed. The place has full-time, short-term care. She’ll be sedated at bedtime, her room locked, and she’ll be monitored so she can’t do any more slipping out during the night.”
“What if she’s guilty of starting the fires, of killing David?” Hannah’s words barely came out in a whisper as she forced herself to ask about her worst fears.
“Normally that’s not something I, or any other psychologist, would tackle, but since it’s important to the safety of everyone in the community as well as to her being at peace, I’ll work on finding some answers while she’s under supervision.”
Wondering what the cost would be, Hannah nodded. Regardless of all else, she’d stumbled on a beginning place for Sarah.
Hannah stood at the window inside Dr. Stone’s office, waiting for her to return from taking Sarah to her room for the night. Before leaving the Better Path over two hours ago, Paul had managed to reach the doctor and get her to come in to see Sarah today rather than tomorrow. For that, Hannah was grateful.
Her father’s stubbornness seemed no better now than two and a half years ago. Still, she’d need his approval regardless of what Dr. Stone recommended. Sarah required her family and community, a place to live, and someone to provide for her when she was released from this place—all of which meant doing what it took to keep Sarah in the good graces of their Daed.
The receptionist had left about thirty minutes ago, and except for Hannah, the main-house segment of the Better Path was completely empty. A nurse, Dr. Stone, and Sarah were in the patient facility out back, which looked like it’d once been a Daadi Haus for an Amish home. The place was probably older than Dr. Lehman’s birthing center, but it was nicer with its hardwood floors, refurbished interior, and homey décor. Dr. Lehman’s clinics were sparse, functional, and had ancient linoleum floors. She hadn’t really thought about it before now, but the windows at her clinic were covered with unopened, aluminum miniblinds to give a constant sense of privacy to the women inside. But here the windows were adorned with opened plantation blinds and lacy valances.
The Tuscarora Mountain stood in the distance with huge oaks spread across the land before it, reminding her of how much she’d once loved the beauty of Owl’s Perch. But it no longer felt like home, in spite of the bittersweet longing that had crept up on her once in a while during this trip. Mostly what had flooded her was deep anger. Hoping to temper her reactions from here on, she watched as Paul pulled into the driveway behind the clinic and headed for the guest housing, as they referred to it.
Dr. Stone came out of the small house and met Paul, as if they’d timed his arrival back at the clinic with her leaving Sarah in the nurse’s care. Meticulously dressed with matching nails and perfectly sculpted short brown hair, the forty-something doctor passed a file to Paul while talking. Trying not to chafe at the absurdity of this situation, Hannah kept a vigil. Paul glanced up to the window where she stood before returning his focus to Dr. Stone and walking with her toward the clinic. Their muffled voices filled the air as they entered the building and came up the stairs to where Hannah waited.
Dr. Stone motioned for Hannah to take a seat as she walked to the front of her desk and leaned against it. “Sarah has decided to stay with us over the next few weeks. It took awhile to help her see the need, but after eighteen it’s best if the patient chooses to stay. Otherwise we could need the courts to intervene. If you’ll bring her some clothes and any personal items she wants, you can spend a little time with her tonight, but after that we prefer no visitors for at least a week.” She tapped the desk with her long, fake nails. “I still have a lot of patients to see at my full-time clinic, so I need to leave now, but Paul is prepared to fill you in on anything you’d like to know.”
Not comfortable with the doctor asking Paul to explain what was going on with her sister, Hannah decided to be more direct. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She seems to have four overlapping issues. None alone is too serious, and even the four are certainly manageable with help, but she’s gone a long time with no intervention.”
“We just didn’t realize her issues were this serious.”
The doctor nodded. “Family members tend to accept the odd behaviors of their own as part of who the person is, and the peculiarities can often increase slowly over years.” She glanced briefly to Paul. “I understand you’ve been gone the last two and a half years.”
“I have.”
“With no contact?”
Suddenly feeling like her life was on trial, Hannah answered, “I didn’t leave a way to be contacted, and I wrote very few notes, which were generic in content. Has that added to Sarah’s issues?”
“She does have symptoms of adjustment separation anxiety disorder among other things.”
“Was that a yes or a no to my question?”
“It was neither. It’s possible your absence contributed to her condition. It’s possible it didn’t.” Dr. Stone pulled a sheet of paper out from a stack on her desk. “She’s requested to have Paul as her regular therapist.”
“No.” Hannah stared straight at him. “Absolutely not.”
The doctor frowned. “Is there a reason why you feel he’s not a good fit to work with Sarah? He is a Plain Mennonite, which gives him an advantage in understanding her.”
Hannah had plenty of reasons for her opinion. In spite of his good showing at Gram’s, she simply didn’t trust him. Maybe he was who he said and acted like he was, but she had a solid basis for thinking otherwise. “But he’s known her for a while. He’s friends with our brother and has dealt with our Daed. Doesn’t that disqualify him or something?”
Dr. Stone leaned forward. “So you think he’s too emotionally involved to hear her without bias?”
Hannah swallowed, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “Look, you’re basing this request on what Sarah wants. Earlier today she wanted to set fire to herself. Maybe you’re mistaken to put so much stock in her opinion.”
The doctor gave an indifferent nod and passed the paper to her. “This is a list of our counselors. It’s a short list, but each name has a bio. Only Paul works here full-time. The others come in a few times a week or less, so if you decide not to use Paul, you will need to understand the limitations you’re placing on Sarah’s counseling sessions. You can discuss this with your family and let Paul know. Whether he’s her counselor or not, it’s very important to her that she feels she can return home when her time here is over.” She pointed to Paul. “Which means you will need to talk with her family while you’re getting her personal items from home.” She glanced at her watch. “I prefer that Paul be present for that conversation for many reasons I don’t have time to explain. When you return with her things, I hope you have good news for her. If not, let Paul coach you on the best phrases to use so we can avoid wording things in a way
that will upset her.”
Hannah glanced at Paul. Daed had to approve this plan for Sarah’s sake, but Hannah couldn’t even manage to agree with Paul on anything. So how were they going to pull this off?
“Do you have a list of ways we can reach you if need be?”
Hannah pulled the last two business cards she had with her out of her pocket and passed one to Dr. Stone and one to Paul.
She nodded. “Good.” She tapped her watch. “Well, I need to go. Paul, we’ll have a conference call tomorrow at ten. I think we discussed all other aspects while on the phone earlier. Anything I’ve forgotten?”
Paul shook his head. “We covered it. I know how to reach you if a need comes up.”
Dr. Stone looked at Hannah. “Regardless of who is chosen as the therapist, Paul will be the coordinator for all issues concerning Sarah for the intensity of the next month. After that he can step down and pass the responsibility to someone else.” Dr. Stone held out her hand to Hannah. “I’m sure we’ll talk again in a few weeks.”
The doctor left.
Paul tilted the file in her direction. “We need to discuss a few things on our way to see your Daed.”
Despite wanting to object and to drive herself, she simply nodded. This was unbelievable. Aggravating. Annoying. And … maybe the only way she’d get out of here and back to Martin before she ruined her chance of graduating from nursing school on time.
“You ready?”
She’d never be ready for this next venture, but it had to be done anyway. “Yeah.”
Paul headed for his vehicle, and she went for hers.
“Han … um, Ms. Lawson, we need to ride together. The fewer vehicles in your Daed’s driveway, the less frustrated he’ll be, and we need to talk on the way to prep for the visit there.”
She’d told him not to refer to her as if they were friends, but calling her Ms. Lawson wasn’t the answer either.
“Then I’ll drive.”
He frowned.
“Problem?”
“No, I guess not … except I saw your effort to bolt that tire on this morning and …”
Caught off guard by his remark, she laughed. Her eyes met his, and for the second time something besides stress glimmered between them—and she was grateful. “Oh, shut up and get in the car, Waddell.”
He shrugged. “I’m really hungry and tired. I don’t want to get stuck without a spare.”
She opened her car door. “I have groceries in the trunk of my car.” They both got in, and Hannah turned the key. “So you won’t die of starvation if we get stranded.”
“So if we get stranded together, what would I die from?”
Hannah chuckled, remembering how well they used to quip their way through things. “I won’t incriminate myself.”
Paul laughed and opened the file. “Here’s the deal …”
After pulling into her parents’ driveway, Hannah turned off the car.
Paul slid the file between the seat and the console. “It’d probably be best if we left our cell phones in the car.”
She’d disagree, except if their goal was to appease her father, Paul happened to be right. She plunked her phone into the console before getting out. Knowing she’d need to remain outside the house, she didn’t go to the door closest to them but headed for the front porch. Without questioning her, Paul followed. She knocked and waited.
Her father opened the door.
“Hi, Daed. Sarah’s doing much better this evening, and we came to talk with you about where she is and what can be done for her.”
Her Daed nodded before he turned back toward the living room. “Luke, get a few kitchen chairs and bring them to the front porch. You need to join us. Ruth, ask Mary to take Esther, Rebecca, and Samuel to see the kittens in the barn until we call them.” He then stepped out and motioned Hannah to the porch swing.
From things Mamm and Luke had said, it sounded like her Daed and Paul had met, but clarifying that could cause ill will from her father. And they’d clearly seen each other earlier today; still a proper introduction seemed necessary. “Daed, this is Paul Waddell. Paul, this is my Daed, Zeb Lapp.”
Paul held out his hand, and Daed shook it. “Mr. Lapp.”
Without speaking or offering any friendliness, her father took a seat next to Hannah, which took her by surprise. Luke came outside carrying two chairs, and Mamm was behind him.
As Mamm walked to her, Hannah stood. Her mother hugged her right there in front of her Daed. “Are you hungry?”
She should be. It was almost dinnertime, and she hadn’t eaten since early morning, but she wasn’t. “Denki, Ich bin ganz gut.”
Saying “Thanks, I am fine” in her native tongue felt a little strange. Outside of working with Amish women in labor, she never used the language anymore. Zabeth rarely spoke it, and Hannah followed suit. Dressing like an Englischer seemed to cause everyone to avoid using Pennsylvania Dutch with her, even Mary.
Mamm gently cupped Hannah’s face in her hands. “Liewi …” Her eyes misted, but she was unable to say more than dear.
“I love you too, Mamm.”
Her mother sobbed and pulled her close. Daed sat in silence, watching them. Shaking, Mamm pulled away and took a seat in a nearby chair. Hannah sat next to her father. He reached over and patted her hand. Was he offering some type of apology? Or was he simply saying thank you for bringing some peace to Mamm?
Paul leaned forward. “Mr. Lapp, have you had time to share today’s events with your wife and Luke, or should I begin our conversation by recapping?”
“I told them enough. Move on with what needs to be said.”
Paul remained unruffled in spite of her father’s sharp tone. “Sure, no problem. What happened today with Sarah may seem extreme and was probably very upsetting, but I believe her behavior was a cry for help more than a true indication of instability.”
Luke placed his forearms on his knees and stared at Paul. “You can help her?”
“Sarah is a good candidate for receiving help. We don’t have the lab results back, so we can’t be sure yet if some hormone imbalance or physical ailment is adding to her issues, but regardless of that, the physicians and counselors at the Better Path can help her. She’s checked herself into the clinic and wants to stay for a few weeks, but she needs to know that she can come home to live and that no one will be angry with her for getting help.”
Fully aware that Paul was avoiding saying he could help her, Hannah looked at her father. “Daed, Sarah needs more help than we can give her.”
He stared at the porch floor, arms folded across his chest. “We? There is no ‘we.’ You left and intend to leave again.”
All hints of the restoration that’d taken place between her and her Daed only moments earlier disappeared. Ten things popped into her mind at once, all sarcastic, albeit true, pictures of why she wasn’t a part of the “we,” but she held her tongue.
Daed pushed his straw hat back a bit on his head. “I thought when she had time with you, she’d snap out of this stupor of hers. I’ve been wondering if she’s just trying to gain attention, and Paul just confirmed it. I won’t have my daughter mixing with the Englischers while those doctors dive into psychology trash and try to get an upper hand over God in her thoughts.”
Hannah wanted to stand up and scream, but she determined to speak softly. “That’s not what he meant when he said a cry for help. Her reaction today was similar to a reflex. If something is coming at you, you flinch. It’s an automatic reflex. That’s what this cry for help is like.” She looked to Paul. “Is that accurate enough?”
He nodded. “Yes, but if we let Sarah continue down this path, her reflexes, so to speak, will take over more and more of her life, and her chances of regaining control will lessen.”
Daed waved his hand as if shooing them away. “This is ridiculous. God knows what He’s doing.”
Hannah nodded. “Yes, but He’s letting you see Sarah’s need. He has put people near you with answers and help for her.
I know you’re leery and rightly so. Far too many people follow the trends rather than think things through, but if you ignore what you saw today, it’ll only get worse. That can cost Sarah her future.”
“She has no more of a future than you did after the unmentionable.”
His final words hung in the air. Indignation pulsed through Hannah, burning her skin. She choked back the words that begged to be released.
Paul’s eyes stayed on her before he cleared his throat. “Mr. Lapp, Sarah’s prognosis—”
“Ah.” Hannah interrupted Paul and faced her father. “So, Daed, you’re the one who gets to decide who does and doesn’t have a future. See, now I get it. If I’d just known that, why, I could have given up years ago.” She smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead. “Silly me.” She stood, tossing a half-apologetic glance to Mamm for speaking out against Daed. “I bitterly object to you, in your finite mind, deciding I was used up and washed up, and I won’t let you decide it for Sarah either.” She walked to the edge of the porch steps and paused before looking at her father again. “Your sister understood that love reaches out against all the odds and against all reasonable hope. I learned so much about freedom and hope and faith. Why can’t you understand that people and circumstances aren’t bound to what you can see in them today? If they were, there would be no need for faith.” Hannah descended the steps.
The sounds of hoofbeats interrupted the conversation. Matthew Esh brought the horse and buggy to a stop.
He dipped his head in a nod to the group in general. “Hello.”
Everyone except Hannah spoke to him. Unsure whether he wanted her to speak, she waited. His eyes moved to Paul, and she figured he’d like to comment on the oddity of his being at the Lapp place.
Matthew then looked at her. “I came by, hoping we could go for a ride and talk a bit.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Hannah hurried closer and stopped when she was near the horse. Matthew studied her. “Well, I haveta say, like the last time we were right here like this, your getup again leaves a bit to be desired.”
Sisters of the Quilt Page 72