Sisters of the Quilt

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “She seems okay. I had an ultrasound yesterday, and I’m scheduled for the C-section on Monday.”

  Where is the excitement at having seen the baby?

  “Monday? Your doctor must think you’re a few weeks further along than you figured.”

  “Ya, that’s sort of what she said.”

  Sort of?

  “You okay?” The silence that followed answered Hannah’s question. “Mary, what’s on your mind?”

  “Nothing …”

  Searching for the right words, she took into account all she knew of Mary, being Amish, and what Dr. Lehman had taught her, before she started talking in Pennsylvania Dutch. It wasn’t long before Mary was telling her what truly was on her mind—the odd sensations in her body, the fears about Monday, and the fact that Luke wasn’t home.

  Every symptom Mary was hem-hawing about indicated she might be in labor. “Mary, is there someone within sight? Someone you could holler for to come to the phone?”

  “No, but I think Jacob and Mammi Annie are on the property somewhere.”

  Unwilling for Mary to tread up and down hills looking for someone, Hannah’s mind jammed with a dozen possible ways to handle this. “Mary, listen to me.” She kept control of her voice, trying to sound authoritative and reassuring at the same time. “I need you to hang up and dial 911. Tell them you need an ambulance. Then slowly make your way inside and lie down until it arrives.”

  “That’s silly. I’m going in for a C-section on Monday. I … I’m fine until then.”

  “Everything you just described means you could be in early labor.”

  Mary began sobbing. “I can’t … Luke’s not here, and—”

  “I’ll get hold of Paul and send him to find Luke for you. They’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  “No … please. I … I don’t want to do this.”

  “But you can do it, and you will for both the baby’s sake and yours.”

  “Will the lady doctor be there?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t want you staying on your feet long enough to find out. I’ll call Dr. Lehman and get him to do what he can, but if she’s not there, another surgeon will be.”

  “I’m so scared.”

  Hannah’s insides quaked. “It’ll be fine. Just do as I’m telling you.”

  “What if you’re wrong? What if I’m not in labor or anything?” Mary echoed Hannah’s own thoughts.

  She could be overreacting, and the ambulance trip and Mary being admitted into the hospital would not only cost Luke a fortune but would cause a lot of distrust and anger against Hannah. Again. But she couldn’t take a chance. “I’m not wrong.” What else could she say? If she left Mary with any doubts, her friend would ignore the symptoms, maybe until it was too late.

  Mary broke into sobs.

  In spite of wanting to join her, Hannah remained outwardly calm. “You’re going to be fine, and you’ll have that baby in your arms even sooner than Monday.”

  “This is so scary.”

  Hearing the desperation in Mary’s voice and the giggles of the children as they talked to Martin over dinner, she felt the knot in her stomach tighten. The pull to go to Owl’s Perch and the desire to be here weighed on her. “You do what needs to be done. I’ll come visit as soon as I can and hold this niece or nephew, okay?”

  “Ya, okay.” Mary sounded calmer now. “You’ll find Luke?”

  “He’s never far, and Paul will find him. Depending on how much time has passed, he’ll either bring Luke to the house or take him straight to the hospital. Now do as I said and get off your feet. I’ll see you soon.” Hannah disconnected the call and phoned Dr. Lehman.

  He agreed to try to reach the doctor and at least see if she was on call tonight and, if she wasn’t, to explain the circumstances to whoever was on call. He then relayed all the numbers the clinic had given him for reaching Paul. If Paul wasn’t on call, he wouldn’t have one of two cells provided by the clinic. Wondering if that was part of his decision to stick to the Plain lifestyle or if money was the issue, Hannah said her good-byes.

  She pressed the numbers for each cell, but no one answered.

  Martin ambled out of the kitchen. “What’s up this time?”

  “I think Mary’s in labor.” She held up her index finger for him to give her a minute. After dialing the Better Path, she listened to a message about the office being closed and reopening in the morning. Before it finished telling her how to reach someone in case of an emergency, she hung up. “I told her to call for an ambulance, and now I’m trying to locate Paul so he can find Luke and get him to the hospital.”

  She had the number for two other places he could be, Gram’s and his apartment. She called his apartment first.

  Martin’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer. “You’re shaking. You okay?”

  “This isn’t good news, Martin. Could be really bad news. I won’t know for a while.” After twenty rings and no one picking up, she disconnected the call and dialed Gram’s. “I don’t know how long she’s been in labor …” Someone answered at Gram’s house.

  “Hello.”

  Great. She’d finally reached someone, and it sounded like the same young woman who’d answered the phone the two times Hannah had tried to reach Paul years ago. “This is Hannah Lawson. I need to speak with Paul.”

  “I, uh … he’s … he’s … not here … At least … I, uh—”

  It was definitely the same person, and she had no doubt it was Dorcas. Hannah’s blood turned hot. “Let me interrupt this little spell of confusion for you, Dorcas.” She began pacing the floors. “I want to speak to Paul. Now.” She measured each word distinctly, softly demanding respect. “And if you don’t want him to know about any other times I’ve called and not gotten through, I highly recommend you find him ASAP.”

  “Hold on.” Dorcas’s voice wavered more than Mary’s had.

  Hannah turned to find Martin studying her.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.” But his eyes were glued to her, perplexed.

  “Hannah, what’s up?” Paul’s voice held that steady calmness she’d come to expect over the last six weeks.

  “I received a call from Mary. I think she’s in labor, and I told her to call for an ambulance. Luke’s not at home, and she’s not sure where he is. Can you find him for her?”

  “I’ll certainly try, but would you rather me get Mary and take her to the hospital?”

  “I thought of that and decided against it. If she’s in labor, her best option is to be in an ambulance with medical assistance.”

  “Okay, I trust your judgment. You stick to trusting it. I’ll find Luke and call you as soon as I know something. Are you on your way?”

  “I’m not sure. I have class. Do you have my cell?”

  “I have it. Bye.”

  She closed her phone and her eyes, praying silently.

  Martin slid his arms around her. “Can’t they take care of themselves?”

  Clueless as to how to share the complexities of her roots, she said nothing.

  He held her tighter. “Can I do something for you?”

  With her head against his chest, she took a deep breath. “I want to be there.”

  “It’s more than four hours away. Whatever is going to take place will be over before you could arrive.”

  “I know.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders, backing her up and gazing into her eyes. “You can’t miss another class.”

  “I’m not going to be able to concentrate anyway.”

  “Hannah,” he snapped, “the answer is no. I’m not budging on this one.” He pulled her back into his arms. “Just wait, and I’ll drive you there myself on Saturday as soon as your clinical rotation shift is over. That’s just the day after tomorrow. She’ll probably still be in the hospital, right?”

  “Since she’s having a C-section, yes.”

  The teacher scribbled some type of equation on the board, but Hannah kept fiddling w
ith her cell phone lying on her desk.

  When her phone vibrated, she jerked it up, opened it, and pressed the green icon while walking out of the room. “Hannah Lawson.” She spoke softly as she stepped into the hallway of North Lincoln Educational Center. Then she tried again, louder. “Hello?”

  “I found Luke,” Paul stated calmly. “And we’re at the Holy Spirit Hospital in Camp Hill. Mary’s in—”

  Paul’s voice stopped.

  “Hello?” Hannah thundered into the phone but heard nothing back. “Hello? No!” She slammed the phone shut, reopened it, and punched the call-back button. “Come on.”

  A rapid busy signal meant something was keeping her from getting a connection. She hurried down the hall to the office. No one was inside, but the door was unlocked. She went behind the desk, tapped a letter on the keyboard to wake the computer, and then connected to the Internet. Within seconds she had a phone number to the maternity division of the hospital.

  Using the landline phone on the desk, she made the call. All her hours of working for different hospitals during clinical rotations were paying off in a way she’d never expected. She knew whom to talk to and how to word her request so they’d be willing to locate Paul and give him the landline number where she could be reached.

  She sat by the phone, holding a silent prayer vigil. One thing about being raised Amish—faith in silent prayers was as much a part of each day as chores, sweat, and laughter.

  The office phone rang, and Hannah jerked it up. “Hannah Lawson.”

  “Hey, I tried calling you back on your cell. There’s no news yet. The nurse said they wheeled Mary into surgery the minute she arrived. We’ve been here about ten minutes.”

  “C-sections are fast. You should hear something soon. Just stay on the line with me, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. But don’t you need to be in class or something?”

  “I’m here. Technically that’s all that matters. I’ll get the notes off the board and see the teacher before I leave.”

  “Did you take a course out there in Englischer land on how to track down people via phone or what?”

  “I have a little savvy, but mostly I don’t take no for an answer anymore, especially when it comes to reaching people. Oh, I thought of an idea about Sarah. It has all sorts of issues for you to work through.”

  Paul laughed. “And you just happen to tell me that on the heels of saying you don’t take no for an answer. What’s the idea?”

  She began telling him, and within twenty minutes they’d plotted a half-dozen ways Sarah could work with a dog-rescue-and-placement group, maybe even learn how to train dogs for specific jobs.

  “This is really good, Hannah. I never would’ve thought of it.”

  “Hey.” Luke’s muffled voice sounded like he was beside Paul. “Is that my sister?”

  “Yeah. Hannah, Luke wants to talk to you.”

  “Perfect. Thanks.”

  “Mary’s in recovery, waking up.” Luke sounded thrilled. “The doctor said she did beautifully and that getting to the hospital that quick may’ve saved her life.”

  Hannah drew several deep breaths. “Oh, Luke, I’m so grateful.”

  His boisterous laugh made chills run through her. “I told him my sister’s a nurse and knew what to do. We have a girl! Mary’s going to want to see you soon. The doc’s gonna keep her a few days, maybe run a CT scan before letting her go home.” Her brother’s fast-paced, excited speech was a bit hard to decipher, but she caught it all.

  “I’ll be in Saturday evening, around eight or so.”

  “Around eight?”

  “It’s the earliest I can make it. I have a work shift first.”

  “Okay, we’ll be here. You and Paul make a good team. You know that?”

  Hannah didn’t answer. She’d seen inklings of it long ago. “I’ll see you on Saturday. Congratulations, Luke.”

  “Thanks, Hannah. Bye.”

  She hung up the phone and went back to her classroom, but she was too thrilled and relieved to concentrate.

  Hannah rode with her eyes closed and her head against the backrest, glad Martin was driving. His sports car handled the curves and bumps more fluidly than her Honda. He kept a variety of music playing while Hannah rested. Between school, studying, clinical rotations, working for Dr. Lehman, and juggling her ready-made family, she needed the rest.

  The night Mary gave birth Hannah didn’t sleep. Adrenaline had pumped through her for hours. Memories of her childhood with Mary filtered through her mind as if she were reliving them.

  Martin scrolled through the song list on his iPod. “I really don’t get why this trip is necessary. I mean, you lived without talking to Mary, without sending much in the way of letters for more than two years, and now you act as if your world will fall apart if you don’t get time with her.”

  “I didn’t have contact with her for that time, but then her life was in danger, and now we have a baby to celebrate.”

  He shrugged. “Seems like a phone call should have been plenty.”

  “Maybe we should do the band gathering by phone next time, okay?”

  “Totally different.” He turned up the music.

  She settled back and closed her eyes again. From nowhere, thoughts of Paul demanded her attention. Refusing to indulge them, she shifted in her seat and opened her eyes. “How’s work?”

  “We never talk about my work.”

  “Maybe we should.”

  He glanced from the road to her several times. “Nah, if I do that, then I have to hear about babies being born and about events in the lives of those women who come for the Tuesday quiltings.”

  When silence fell between them, recent snapshot images of Paul ran through her mind. The first glimpse she caught of him at Gram’s—his honesty and patience in the face of her anger. Hours later—his gentleness and wisdom with Sarah. In the barn as they talked afterward—his calm but unyielding insistence that she speak to him with civility. Later that same day in the kitchen at the Better Path preparing food. He could have eaten at Gram’s, but he’d fixed omelets at the clinic. Had he done that for her?

  She turned off the music. “Talk to me. Find something and talk.”

  “Would you relax?” Martin grabbed his leather CD wallet and pulled out a fresh disc. “I haven’t loaded this onto my iPod yet, but I’ve been wanting you to listen to a couple of songs on my newest album so we can talk about which ones to add to the band’s list.”

  “Meaning some of the words are controversial.”

  “Not by most people’s standards, but, yes, that’s what I mean.”

  Hannah nodded and tried to focus on the songs. Against her will, thoughts of Paul pushed forward again, recounting conversations that had passed between them since she’d returned. As the memories circled, she picked up on nuances of who he was that she hadn’t noticed before. More than ever she understood that it hadn’t been his apathy that had let her go. It was his patience. When he was hurt at Matthew’s, he’d seemed standoffish for a bit, and she thought he was trying to avoid being affected by her proverbial scarlet letter. Clearly there were times when she misunderstood his quiet demeanor.

  “Hello?” Martin’s sarcastic tone catapulted her back to the present.

  She turned toward him. “Yeah?”

  Under the glow of streetlights, she saw a lopsided smile ease across his lips. He moved his hand to the back of her neck, rubbing it gently. “I’m going to assume you heard none of the songs.”

  “Sorry.”

  He gestured out the window. “It’s spitting sleet, and we’re pulling into the parking lot. I’ll drop you off and then park the car.”

  “Okay.”

  She went into the hospital. Paul was in a seat some twenty feet away. She started to go to him but decided maybe she should keep her distance and wait for Martin. It’d be rude to be with Paul when Martin came in. She glanced in the direction he was looking.

  Television.

  Deciding she couldn’t pass up
harassing him, she smiled and walked over to him. “Sports-bar restaurants and hospitals?”

  Paul rose to his feet. “Hi, Hannah. Someone needed a lift to the hospital, so while I was here …”

  “If I had a picture phone, I’d send a snapshot of this to your bishop.”

  “You think he has a picture phone to receive it?”

  She laughed and he joined her.

  “Besides, it’s Penn State and Michigan. His disapproval would fall on deaf ears.”

  “I get the distinct impression you’d not repent one bit, Paul Waddell.”

  “In the words of Hannah Lawson, ‘You think?’ ” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You handled this with Mary right. There is only good news to celebrate.”

  He motioned to the chair beside him, and they both took a seat. “Your Daed’s in the waiting room. Luke told him you were coming in, and he asked me to bring him here so he could see you.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say there was only good news?”

  Paul looked at his folded hands, focused on them while a smile covered his face. “I never pegged you for a legalist, Hannah.” Slowly his eyes moved to hers, looking at her the same way he did years ago when he walked so lightly, so carefully with a young girl’s heart, never asking for even a kiss though he was in the midst of the lure of college life.

  But they did kiss …

  Bombarded with memories, Hannah couldn’t seem to breathe. She remembered standing in the November rain, wishing all of life were different and their love wasn’t forbidden. Through the misting night, she spotted his old truck. He’d come to Owl’s Perch, trying to catch a few minutes with her after being separated for months with no contact. The door opened, and Paul jumped out. Ignoring all sense of protocol, she ran down the hill and embraced him. He nuzzled against her neck, even daring to plant a kiss on her cold, damp skin. Her arms tightened, and she remembered fearing it might be just a dream. But his warm, caring hands moved to her face, cradling it, and slowly a smile eased his tense features as he lowered his face until his lips touched hers. Warmth and power swept through her. Her first kiss. So powerful—