A Plain Man

by Mary Ellis

  But it wasn’t the rain delay that had Caleb down in the dumps. A full week had passed since his spat with Josie and they were no closer to mending fences. He’d seen her the next day, but she offered no more than a half-hearted smile...one more of pity than affection. After preaching, Josie insisted she needed to sit with her grandmother during lunch. Grossmammi Yoder had trouble eating with her new dentures. Then she and her family drove off while he’d been occupied with a debate over soybeans versus more corn next year.

  Three times Caleb had walked the back path to the Yoders’ after supper to make amends. The first evening he took wildflowers, which her mamm didn’t appreciate: “Truly, Caleb, these should remain where God planted them.” But at least Margaret promised to deliver them. Josie had gone to town for ice cream with her sisters. During his second ill-fated visit, he tried to entice her outdoors to view the first harvest moon of the season. The yellow aura surrounding the moon had always intrigued him, but it failed to draw Josie away from her needlework. His third unsuccessful trip ended with a closed kitchen door in his face. Jessie, her younger sister, informed him that Josie had gone to bed early with a headache.

  Was he the headache in her life—the thorn that had buried its tip just beneath the surface, refusing to be removed with needle or tweezers? How he missed her sweet smile and pretty face. Thus, when Sarah bounded down the stairs, Caleb wasn’t ready for unmitigated cheeriness.

  “Why are you still home?” she asked.

  “Look outside. It’s raining.”

  “Ahh, you’d planned outdoor work at Albert’s. Would you like me to fry ham and eggs while you wait for the skies to clear?” Sarah poured coffee to the rim of her mug.

  “No, danki, cornflakes will be fine.” Caleb didn’t glance up from his perusal of a dried blob of jelly on the oilcloth.

  “Suit yourself. I’ll eat with Mrs. Pratt after we serve last night’s guests.” Sarah rummaged around in her purse. “Where are my keys to Country Pleasures? Lee Ann sometimes runs to the market for more fruit while her guests sleep, as long as Roy is awake.” She dumped her purse contents onto the table. “There they are.” Sarah grabbed the ring from the clutter.

  As fate would have it, a slip of paper landed faceup amid the sprawl. Like a hummingbird drawn to the next succulent flower, Caleb focused on Josie’s name.

  “What’s this?” he asked, reading aloud. “1230 Mercy Drive NW, Canton.”

  “It’s the address of Timken Mercy Medical Center in Canton.” Sarah swept contents back into the purse and slung it over her shoulder.

  “I know where that hospital is. What does this have to do with Josie?” An uncomfortable tension tightened his belly.

  “I don’t know why exactly. I’ll get the full story from her tonight after work.” Sarah busily filled an aluminum water bottle at the sink.

  “Tell me what Josie said to you, Sarah. Stop being evasive. Is she sick or injured?”

  “Goodness, bruder. Why would you jump to such dire conclusions? I’m sure she’s fine. She probably wants to visit someone in the hospital.”

  “Who?” In a few sort strides, Caleb blocked his sister’s exit. There would be no mad dash out the door until he had answers.

  “I have no idea. Josie left a message on the Country Pleasures’ answering machine. She said she needed the address to give her hired driver. I was to leave the address on her daed’s machine out in his barn, which I did. All I know is she’s going today.”

  “Hired cars know where the Canton hospital is.” Caleb felt the vein in his neck start to throb.

  “True, but driver’s love the exact address to punch into those locator machines. Then they’ll know about traffic jams ahead of time.” Sarah pursed her lips. “Right now I need to get to work. Rebekah is staying home because she doesn’t feel well.” She pushed past him in the doorway, leaving the scrap of paper where it lay. “Why don’t you find out the whole story tonight and then tell me.”

  For no apparent reason, Caleb tucked the slip into his pocket. It would be a long, worrisome drive to Albert’s house, because once again Josie decided to be secretive and sly.

  Despite the rain, indoor work at the Sidleys’ continued. All morning they filled holes and cracks in the plaster walls with spackling. Once the compound was dry, they sanded in preparation to paint the upstairs bedrooms. Even Josiah pitched in, although he never caught on that a light touch worked best when patching cracks. The walls in his room would forevermore undulate like ocean waves, but they would be clean and free of critter access. After all, the Amish didn’t open their homes to decorator magazines anyway.

  Caleb’s spirits lifted when the paneled van for Dave’s Plumbing rolled up the driveway. Dave Wilhelm, Jack’s best friend, climbed out with his usual cheeriness.

  “How’s it going, Albert, Cal? Guess what I’ve got in the back of my truck?” Dave resettled his ball cap backwards.

  “A pepperoni pizza?” Elijah asked with wide-eyed eagerness.

  Albert nudged his brother with an elbow. “We’re fine, but we don’t know what’s in your van.” Albert never could relax with Englischer’s mannerisms and redundant questions.

  “Your new fiberglass shower enclosure. I went to Shreve to pick up my order for a job in Mount Hope, but mine hadn’t arrived yet. Some kind of computer glitch—typical, no?”

  Shrugging, Albert looked to Caleb for the appropriate response.

  “That happened once on the Ashland office building too,” Caleb answered on behalf of the Sidleys. “Will this glitch impact your completion date?”

  “Not enough to worry about. Anyway, although my order wasn’t in, yours had just been delivered. It was still sitting on the loading dock. I told them I would bring it out if they would deliver mine for free when it came in.”

  Caleb was first to speak. “We’re much obliged, Dave. The four of us can unload so we’ll be ready for the next time you have a day off.”

  Albert and Elijah nodded enthusiastically.

  “Oh, I can do better than that. Without my order I’ve got nothing to do. We can set the fiberglass stall in place and I can start hooking it up. I’ll run both hot and cold water lines, so once you have a propane and a hot water tank delivered, I’ll come back to hook the tank up to the plumbing.”

  “We surely intend to buy one before winter,” said Albert, rocking on his heels.

  “You sure there’s no natural gas in this area? It’s cheaper in the long run.” Dave peered toward the road even though gas lines ran underground.

  Caleb and Albert exchanged glances. “I’ve already discussed different fuels with a neighbor,” said Albert. “And he recommended this propane type of fuel.”

  “The gas company won’t extend lines for only one house,” Caleb added. He smiled inwardly on two counts: Albert had made propane sound like a newfangled invention, and he had chatted socially with one of his neighbors.

  “Propane it is. Now let’s get that baby unloaded.” Dave hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

  While they worked Caleb continued to smile for no reason. He enjoyed seeing the Sidley house turn into a habitable, if not comfortable, home. Helping Albert and his family had given him a rare sense of accomplishment. Was this what it meant to be a Christian—to put someone else before your own personal problems? Each time he lost himself in construction, he forgot his courtship woes, at least for a while. And Albert’s carpenter skills were improving each day. With a valuable new connection with Dave Wilhelm, Caleb felt more optimistic about their business partnership.

  It had taken four men to unload and carry the shower stall to its new location. But that many pairs of hands were unnecessary for the hookup. Dave needed only one helper and Albert readily volunteered. Elijah soon wandered off to the river to fish while Caleb devised a spur-of-the moment plan. “Say, would you mind if I borrowed your truck for an hour or two?” Caleb asked. “I’ll replace any gas that I use.”

  Dave peered up from opening a plastic sack of copper fittings, his
expression quizzical. Albert’s jaw dropped to his collarbone.

  “You have a drivers’ license?” they both asked simultaneously.

  “I do, and it’s still valid. I passed the test when I lived in Cleveland. I owned a car for a while too.”

  Dave replied after a brief hesitation. “Sure. I left the keys in the ignition since I figured this wasn’t a high crime area.” He laughed alone at the under-appreciated joke.

  Albert wasn’t nearly as amenable as Dave. “What are you up to, Caleb? You said you were taking membership classes to join the church. That means ending your running-around, which has gone on far too long anyway. You’re supposed to give up your Englisch ways.” Albert looked as though Caleb’s suggestion was a personal affront.

  “Simmer down. I do intend to join, but I’m on rumschpringe until I do. This will be my last chance to drive and I’d like to go to the Canton hospital to visit a sick friend.” The lie slipped out of his mouth effortlessly.

  “You know somebody who’s sick in Canton?” asked Albert.

  “I do.” The second lie issued forth even easier than the first. He bore false witness as easily as putting on his hat.

  “All right. I’ll help Dave while you’re gone.” Albert stared at a tube of plumber’s putty on the floor.

  “Be back as soon as I can.” Caleb marched from the house before he lost his nerve. It had been over two years since he’d been behind a wheel. Yet once he spotted the van was automatic, he breathed a sigh of relief. Shifting standard transmissions had never been one of his talents, but just like riding a bicycle, his ability to control a three-thousand pound vehicle returned. Caleb punched the address from the slip of paper into the dashboard GPS—another skill learned from Pete Taylor—and then pulled onto the rutted dirt road. He inched along, reaching the county highway, and then escalated to the posted speed limit. Relaxing against the headrest, Caleb listened to a country music station—another pleasure he’d surrendered after moving home.

  But instead of humming along to the tunes, he should have considered what he would do in Canton.

  He should have been planning what to say if he bumped into Josie. What logical explanation could he have for following her twice in one week? But Caleb put thoughts of the future foolishly out of mind until he parked near the main entrance. Then he stood in the lobby, clueless as to his next move. He approached several volunteers at the front desk who were ready to direct visitors to a patient’s room.

  Excuse me. Did you happen to notice a tiny, green-eyed Amish girl today? If so, could you tell me where she went? Even in his petty, jealous mind, that sounded ridiculous. Or maybe you ladies could look at the roster to see if Joel Bent or Benjamin Fisher is a patient here? I’m anxious to know if my girlfriend is visiting a former beau.

  Standing in the middle of the Timken Mercy Medical Center, Caleb scraped his hands down his face. He should find Dave’s van in the parking lot and go back to Albert’s house before more people realized he was a hopeless fool. But his luck had run out. The elevator door suddenly opened and Josie stepped out with a thirtyish Englischer. The man carried a little girl of around four in his arms. Both spotted him immediately. An Amish man in work clothes with suspenders and a straw hat would be hard to miss.

  “Caleb, what on earth are you doing here?” Josie’s face changed from shock to confusion to rage in quick progression. She marched toward him as fast as her legs could carry her. The Englischer and his child also approached, but at a much slower pace.

  “Sarah told me you were headed to the hospital, but she didn’t know who was sick. I decided to come in case you needed me for moral support. We are supposed to be a couple, aren’t we?”

  Her forehead creased with deep wrinkles. “How did you get here?”

  “I drove.” Caleb angled the man a disdainful perusal. The Englischer’s expression of benign confusion didn’t falter.

  “You drove a car?” Josie hefted her purse higher up her shoulder.

  “The plumber’s van, to be exact. Once again I find you secretly meeting Englischers and telling no one of your plans.” Caleb crossed his arms as his temper began to build.

  Josie closed her eyes and appeared to be counting. When she lifted her gaze, her face was composed. “Caleb, I would like you to meet Justin Wilson and his daughter. Isabella is the child I babysat when her mom went back to work.” She grinned at the little girl who squirmed in her father’s arms. The moment Mr. Wilson set the child down, she immediately ran to Josie.

  “Mr. Wilson, this is Caleb Beachy, the man I might marry in the fall.” Her lips compressed into a thin line.

  Her former employer held out his hand. “How do you do, Caleb? It’s nice to meet you. My wife and I are very fond of Josie and her family.”

  Caleb shook hands as his anger waned. Once again he felt like the world’s biggest fool. “I’m fine, sir. Josie mentioned she enjoyed working for your wife. How are you?”

  “We’re better now that the obstetrician had good news for us.”

  Josie hefted Isabella to her hip. “Yesterday I heard that Mrs. Wilson had gone into premature labor. But by the time I got to her house, the rescue squad had rushed her by ambulance here.” Josie blushed with the delicacy of the topic. “Things weren’t proceeding as expected. The baby’s placenta had torn from Mrs. Wilson’s insides.” Her flush deepened and spread to her hairline.

  Mr. Wilson picked up the narrative. “The tear caused massive hemorrhaging. My wife could have died if she had called me at work instead of 911, or if the EMTs hadn’t responded so quickly. Surgeons performed an emergency cesarean to first deliver the baby and then repair the damage.”

  Unlike his fiancée, Caleb felt every drop of blood drain from his head. All this fuss he created while this man had almost lost his wife. “How is Mrs. Wilson now?” he asked, fearful of the answer.

  “She will be fine. Praise the Lord! And so is our son.” Mr. Wilson couldn’t have looked prouder or more relieved.

  “Yes, praise Him for His mercy.” Josie murmured while pinning Caleb with a frosty glare.

  Caleb felt too ashamed to add his own words of praise. “Congratulations on your new son,” he added after an uncomfortable hesitation.

  Justin Wilson took his daughter back from Josie. “God has blessed us with both a daughter and a son. Our family is complete.”

  As Josie nodded with grave solemnity, Caleb finally realized that Mrs. Wilson couldn’t bear any more children. “I’m sorry for the ordeal you had to endure.”

  “I have my wife and my family; we’ll be fine.” Justin glanced at his watch. “Angela will sleep for a few hours, so I volunteered to drive Miss Yoder home. There’s no reason for her to call a driver. She’s also graciously agreed to watch Isabella so I can return to the hospital. Isabella is long overdue for a nap.”

  “Your daughter is no trouble whatsoever…unlike some people I know.” Josie squinted at Caleb under her long eyelashes.

  Blushing to the roots of his scalp, Caleb cleared his throat. “I would be happy to drive Josie and your daughter home to save you the trip. I have a valid license and I’m a very safe driver.” He lifted his gaze to meet the man’s eye.

  Mr. Wilson opened his mouth to reply, but Josie cut him off. “Could you excuse us for a moment, please? I need a private word with my boyfriend.” Her inflection on the normally endearing moniker couldn’t have sounded more caustic. Josie marched to a cluster of potted plants while he trailed at her heels. Then she turned on him like a mother bear separated from her cubs. “Nothing doing. I’m on to you, Caleb. You’re here because you didn’t trust me. Once again you assumed I was meeting someone in secret.” She practically hissed her admonishment.

  When Caleb noticed Mr. Wilson watching them, his humiliation grew by leaps and bounds. “Even if it was part of the reason I came, why cause Mr. Wilson to make an extra trip? I could take you home on my way back to Albert’s in the plumber’s van. Mr. Wilson is probably eager to get back to his wife.”

&
nbsp; “If it’s any of your business, Mr. Wilson has been here for over twenty-four hours. He’s eager to take a shower, grab a bite to eat, and catch an hour of shut-eye now that Angela is out of danger.” Josie leaned close to his face. “And furthermore, I’m so angry with you I might be tempted to pull you by your hair all the way back to Fredericksburg. What kind of an example would that set for Isabella? So you, Mr. Beachy, can climb back into Dave-the-plumber’s van and go home. Alone. Perhaps you can use the time to ponder why an Amish man about to join the church is driving in the first place.” She lifted her chin. “Your father wouldn’t like hearing what you’ve done. Or don’t you plan to tell him? Seems to me you’re the one sneaking around and keeping secrets. I was simply visiting a friend...who almost died.”

  “Josie, calm down and let’s—”

  “I’ll calm down after I say my piece.” Josie’s tone turned annoyingly smug. “I’d planned to stop by tonight to tell you and Sarah all about what’s been going on.” She backed up a step. “But right now, I’m leaving with Mr. Wilson.”

  Caleb yearned to reach for her, to beg for forgiveness for the second time in a week, but he didn’t dare. Josie looked mad enough to pull his hair inside the hospital lobby. “Will you still come over tonight?” he asked. “Or maybe I could stop by your house? I’ll tell Sarah what happened to your friend.”