The Patient One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  After they forgive her? “John, surely you don’t really think that she deserves much sympathy or forgiveness?”

  “Everyone deserves forgiveness and sympathy. It’s not our place to punish.”

  That “our” made it seem like the differences between them just grew a mile wide. Had he already forgotten that he’d told her he was thinking of jumping the fence? “Just because I’m willing to let the police and the courts decide her punishment doesn’t mean that I should forgive her or feel sorry for her.”

  “I guess that’s one of the differences between you and me. Isn’t it?”

  Marie jerked back, feeling like he’d just slapped her. “I don’t know what to say. You’ve stunned me.”

  “If you were Amish, you would understand.” His voice was still quiet, but it was threaded with steel, too. John Byler believed what he was saying completely.

  “But I’m not Amish.”

  “Obviously.”

  Ouch. Maybe in time she would even admire the way he steadfastly clung to his beliefs.

  But now? Well, all she could see was that she could be friends with him for most of her life, be attracted to him, and even kiss him passionately and cling to his arms just hours ago . . . but there were still huge differences in the way they viewed the world.

  The very fact that he was insisting on pushing his point of view while she was still recovering in a hospital bed stunned her.

  She realized then and there that maybe she’d been fooling herself. It wasn’t the lack of electricity and technology that illustrated their differences. It was a whole way of thinking.

  “Marie, you look pale,” he said, his voice sounding on edge. Getting to his feet, he looked toward the door. “What’s wrong? Has your pain medicine worn off? Or is it your rib? What do you need?”

  What she needed was to figure things out. She needed the awful headache that was pounding against her eyes to ease. She needed John Byler to realize that she was feeling pretty confused.

  “Time, I think.”

  “Ah. You’ll feel better soon.”

  All she wanted to do was close her eyes and rest. But she didn’t feel right just dropping the subject. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” she said wearily. “We have two completely different viewpoints about what happened.”

  “I know we do. But, we’ll get through it.”

  “I don’t know. These differences feel pretty substantial right now.”

  John winced. “Marie, I’m sorry. Let’s not fight over who was at fault or what punishment they deserve. I came in here to tell ya that the rest of the Eight are here. They want to see you. Who should I send in first?”

  Though she wanted to see them, too, Marie didn’t know if she was ready to hear Harley or Will express the same sentiment about the drunk driver as John did. “I don’t think I’m up for any more visitors right now.”

  “Truly? Oh, well, all right. Well, I also wanted you to know that I told my parents that I would stay at your place for a night or two after you got released tomorrow.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He looked even more uncomfortable. “You’re going to still need a lot of help. I thought I could sleep on your couch and take care of you.”

  His offer felt like too much, too soon. They still hadn’t really discussed their relationship, not in any great detail. Not what it might look like in the future. When she simply stared at him, he said slowly, “Or, I’m sure Katie or E.A. would be happy to be there if you didn’t want the two of us to be alone.”

  “John, I think I’m going to go home with my parents.”

  His expression shuttered. “Oh. Well, all right. I mean, if that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  He got to his feet. “I, um, will tell everyone that you are resting right now.”

  “Thank you.” She closed her eyes.

  “Should I tell everyone to stop by to see you at your parents’ haus tomorrow evening?”

  “They won’t have to do that.”

  “You know they’ll want to. I’m going to want to see you. Like I said, everyone is worried.”

  “I think it might be best if everyone waited until I was more myself before they stopped by. You know how my parents are.”

  “I know your parents well. You know they won’t mind, Marie. All of our families know how close we all are.”

  Opening her eyes again, she said, “John, what I’m trying to say is that I’m going to need a few days to get myself together. I don’t want to see anyone until I’ve healed some and can wash my hair.”

  He smiled until it became obvious that he realized she wasn’t making a joke. “I see.” He stepped backward. “I’ll wait, then, and tell everyone else to wait, too. Whatever you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  She wanted to understand what was happening between them. She wanted to understand how she was going to be able to meld her life with his.

  But all she could seem to handle at the moment was the fact that all of those kisses they’d shared might not have changed everything between them as much as she thought they had.

  It might not have changed anything at all.

  NINETEEN

  “We all thought it was broken. Marie’s ankle looked like a softball had embedded itself under her skin. And even though she tried to act like it wasn’t painful, we all knew it was.”

  “Molly, you don’t have to do this,” her mother said softly from her doorway on the following Monday.

  Molly had just fastened her dress and apron and was sitting on the side of her bed when her mother had opened the door. Though it wasn’t kind and there were far more important things to worry about, she couldn’t seem to stop the burst of impatience that ran through her. Once again, her mother had opened her door without knocking.

  The habit drove her crazy. She was sixteen, not six. And though she’d once needed a lot of help, she didn’t anymore. However, no matter what Molly said, her mother ignored her wishes. She seemed to think that because Molly wasn’t as mobile as her brothers and sister, she didn’t need the same amount of privacy.

  The opposite was true. Getting dressed took her a lot more time than it did for Amanda or her brothers. She didn’t like having to be worried about her mother wandering in while she was changing clothes.

  But, of course, that didn’t matter right now. Evan would never have to worry about something so minor ever again. Today, during his funeral, the point would be driven home.

  She swallowed the lump that had just formed in her throat and finally answered.

  “I think I do, Mamm. I wasn’t exactly friends with Evan, but I knew him. All of his former classmates are going to the funeral.” Actually, most of Walnut Creek was going.

  Though her mother’s composure seemed to slip a bit, she still shook her head. “You can mourn for him without going to the viewing and funeral.”

  “Not properly. I want to do this.” She needed to. Not only for herself, but for Danny, too. Even if they never became anything other than good friends, she knew he was hurting. And if he was hurting, then so was she.

  Crossing the room, her mother sat down next to her—even though Molly’s dress was still only half fastened. “Sometimes you have to think of yourself. You took Andy’s death hard.”

  Andy. Molly looked down at her hands. The handsome, lively English boy’s death had been rough on her. Though she wasn’t sure anyone else knew it, he’d spent two hours by her side at the hospital a few weeks after her accident. On that day, she’d just been moved to the rehabilitation wing and had been feeling pretty sorry for herself. Half of her body was numb and the other half was in constant pain. Both had been difficult to bear.

  She had also just begun to realize that her life was never going to be the way she’d imagined it. She couldn’t stop thinking about all the things she was never going to do and how she was always going to be different. She’d even gotten mad at God and told Him that she didn’t deserve to be
in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

  Andy had come in the middle of one of her pity parties, had pulled out a deck of cards, and calmly asked if her hands still worked. She’d been so shocked, she’d nodded. That’s when he’d told her that they were going to play hearts for pretzel sticks.

  He’d then proceeded to win every hand . . . except for one. He told her to concentrate on that, that one success. She wasn’t the same as before the accident, but she still stunk at cards, and that was familiar. She’d been so shocked, she’d hardly blinked when he kissed her forehead and wandered out.

  That had been a turning point for her. He’d been right. She was different now but she was also the same—and some of those same things could even be improved upon.

  She’d always loved him for that.

  But even though she’d loved him, she hadn’t gone to his funeral. Andy was English, and though John and the rest of the Eight were going to be there, Molly hadn’t wanted to be in the way. She’d ended up sitting in the back garden praying for hours, hoping that somehow her prayers would help heal Andy’s family’s grief and that the Lord’s grace would shine upon Andy.

  “I did take Andy’s death hard,” she finally said. “But so did a lot of people, especially John.”

  “Jah. John and he were gut friends. All of us loved that young man. But you never had that relationship with Evan, Molly.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m still going to Evan’s funeral. And for the record, John is, too.”

  A flash of impatience flared in her mother’s eyes before she tamped it down. “There will be a lot of people there. And the graveyard will be crowded. You might have a difficult time getting around in your wheelchair.”

  “John and Anton said they’d help me with my chair.”

  “They really said that?”

  “Jah, Mamm. They offered. I took them up on it.”

  After gazing at her for a long moment again, her mother stood up. “How about a hand getting into your chair? I’ll tie your shoes, too.”

  “Mamm, I can do these things myself.”

  “Don’t always push help away, dear. It’s not always offered out of pity.”

  Her mother was right. “I’m sorry, Mamm,” she said as she finished fastening her dress. Then, she held out her hands and allowed her mother to arrange her in the wheelchair. Then she knelt down, picked up a black boot, and slipped it on Molly’s foot.

  As she tied it, Molly felt like she was watching someone else’s foot being shod. It was times like this when she thought about the conversations she’d had with the doctor about more physical therapy and getting fitted for braces to lend support to her legs.

  After her mother tied her other shoe, she stood up. “I made an apple pie. It’s already in a cardboard container. Would you take it to Evan’s parents’ haus?”

  “Of course I will, Mamm.”

  Two hours later, Molly was situated on the sidewalk at the edge of the crowd, watching silently as Evan’s casket was lowered into the ground. Anton was standing nearby. He’d waved off her offer to stand somewhere closer. Around them was a sea of black. Black dresses and kapps and bonnets. Black suits and shoes. They were a somber crowd. And for the most part a silent one.

  She’d spoken to Danny before the funeral. He’d walked over to her as soon as he’d seen her. He looked tired and sad and confused—just like so many of them were.

  Now, he was standing next to Kurt and some other friends from their class. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked like he was trying not to cry. On the other side of him was his brother, Samuel.

  After speaking one last prayer, the crowd began to disperse. There was a meal being offered by the family’s neighbors. Molly and Anton had already elected not to go, so they were heading home.

  She’d just turned her chair and was moving it forward when Danny came back to her side.

  “Are you two getting ready to leave?”

  “Jah.” Looking up at Anton, who had just nodded, Molly said, “Being here for the service was enough for me. And since we already dropped off Mamm’s pie, there isn’t a reason to go back to their house. Are you going to go to the meal, Danny?”

  “Nee.” He looked back at his brother, who was standing off to the side, looking lost. “We’ve had enough, too.”

  “Why don’t you both come to our haus?” Anton said.

  Liking that idea, Molly nodded. “Please do.”

  Still Danny hesitated. “Do you mean Samuel also?”

  “Sam is Ezra’s age,” Anton said. “They can talk if they want, or sit with us. Either way is fine.” Smiling, he said, “And since you two are coming over, you should plan to have supper with us, too.”

  “Your mother won’t mind?”

  “Our mother will love to have you over,” Molly said.

  After glancing at his brother again, Danny nodded. “All right,” he finally said. “Danke.”

  “No thanks needed.” Anton pressed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll see you there.”

  As they continued on to their buggy, Molly looked up at her brother. “That was kind of you.” Anton had never been as serious as James or as inherently kind as John. He’d always been more of a rough-and-tumble type of boy. That was why the offer meant so much.

  “I know.” He smiled slightly.

  “I know I told Danny that Mamm would be happy about them coming over. But, do you think she might be upset after all?”

  “About inviting them over for a meal? Of course not, Mol. Besides, I think she has a soft spot for Danny and his brother.”

  “Oh? Why?” she asked as they stopped next to the buggy and Anton easily picked her up and deposited her on the seat. As he folded the wheelchair and put it in the back of the buggy, Molly thought about his words. She sure hoped Mamm wasn’t liking Danny and Samuel so much on account of her.

  After helping their horse back up and getting back in the buggy, Anton shook his head, like ten minutes hadn’t passed in their conversation. “You know Mamm. She wants to take care of the world. If she canna do that, she at least wants to feed as many people as she can.”

  That was true. “What does that have to do with Danny and Samuel though?”

  “She doesn’t like that Danny and his brother aren’t looked after good.”

  What? What did that even mean? Gaping at Anton, she asked, “Are you saying that they aren’t being fed well?”

  He gave her a look that said she should have known that.

  She had not. “I can’t believe you and Mamm knew that about them but I didn’t.”

  Anton shrugged. “It hasn’t been a big secret. All you have to do is look at those boys to see that they don’t have anyone fussing over them like our mother.”

  She hadn’t seen that. She’d never even thought about how his parents weren’t around.

  She realized then that she’d been just as guilty of only seeing certain things about Danny as other people had been about only noticing her chair. All she’d ever seen when she’d stared at Danny was what she’d wanted to see—that he was handsome, confident, and popular. The three things that she’d never felt about herself. “I’m embarrassed,” she said after a moment. “I never thought either of them looked like they were being neglected.”

  “No?” He glanced at her again as North clip-clopped on the street. “Well, I suppose it’s because you had your own problems to face.”

  She had, but that didn’t make her feel any better. She’d always thought that she’d taken her accident and the paralysis she’d suffered after rather well. Oh, of course, that first year had been difficult, and she’d had many days along the way in pain. But even taking all of that into account, she’d considered herself to be rather aware and caring of others. For her to have missed something that even Anton had noticed made her feel ashamed.

  “I wish I would have realized those things. I would have tried harder to help Danny.”

  Anton laughed softly. “Come now, Mol. You are only now sixteen. Most
teenagers aren’t thinking about much more than themselves.” His voice turned tender. “And you’ve had more reason to be that way, I think. More reason than most, I reckon.”

  “But, still.”

  “No reason to worry about it. It’s done. Ain’t so?”

  She nodded. Relaxing a bit, she said, “Do . . . do you think Danny and me are a bad fit?”

  “How? Like as a couple?”

  She liked that he acted like that could be a possibility. Even though it was embarrassing. “Well, jah.”

  He bent down slightly and looked at her. For once, he wasn’t just skimming over her like he was checking to make sure she was okay, but rather he was seeing her. “Well . . .”

  “Anton. Don’t tease. Just tell me the truth and get on with it.”

  “All right. Well, first off, sitting here beside me, looking like you do . . . if I didn’t know ya, I mean . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “Yes?”

  “I’d say you look to be a mighty pretty, sweet-tempered Amish girl.” He raised his brows. “How did I do?”

  “Not too well. You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I kind of did, Mol. You are a pretty, sweet-tempered girl with a positive outlook on life. It don’t matter what you and Danny—or any man—would think about how you look together. All that matters is that he would be blessed to have you by his side.”

  “Anton!” Tears pricked her eyes. It was truly one of the sweetest things she’d ever heard him say.

  “Oh, no you don’t. You may not start crying. I don’t handle tears.”

  Hiccupping, she nodded. “I won’t cry.” Of course, two big, fat tears were trailing down her cheeks as she promised him.

  “Gut. ’Cause we’ll be there soon and Danny won’t like ya if your face is all swollen and mottled.”

  She pretended to be offended. “Anton, what happened to me being pretty?”

  Looking exactly like the older brother he was, he winked. “That was before your eyes turned all watery and red. Trust me, no man likes that.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and tried to look miffed. But she knew she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.