“Why Haiti instead of India?” Dr. Lawrence asked.
“It was where my church wanted me to go. They are helping to support me. The church isn’t large. The treasurer pointed out to the leaders that it is a lot cheaper to fly to Haiti than India, and the need is as great here as it is there.”
“Does that bother you?” he asked.
“Not really,” she said. “I just want to serve. My church is making that possible. How can I complain?”
Bertha had liked Jane before. Now, she liked her even more.
“And you, Darlene?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what to say.” Darlene’s eyes were downcast. “I got my nursing degree partially so that I could help put my fiancé through medical school. We planned to set him up in his own private practice. Then we would get married and I would work with him. At least that was the plan. I found out a few months ago that he had changed his mind. He dropped out of school and said he didn’t want to be a doctor after all. He said that was what his parents had wanted for him.”
“What did he want to be?” Dr. Lawrence asked, gently.
“An actor,” Darlene said. “He’d gotten into the theater in a big way before we met.”
“And where is he now?”
“Los Angeles,” Darlene’s voice was quiet. “I told him we could still get married. I would get a job as a nurse out there in California and support him while he found work. He said no. Then he broke up with me. I found out later that he took a friend out there with him instead of me.”
“A girlfriend?” Dr. Lawrence asked.
“No.” Darlene’s voice got even smaller. She looked at the floor as she answered. “His friend wasn’t a girl.”
“Ah,” Dr. Lawrence said. “I see.”
Bertha didn’t.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it now,” Dr. Lawrence said. “But your fiancé was kind to break up with you. The marriage could never have been a good one.”
“I know,” Darlene said. “But it is still hard. I feel so naïve and stupid.”
Naïve. His friend wasn’t a girl. Wait a minute. Bertha got it now. Poor Darlene!
“But why did that make you choose Haiti?”
“I come from a small town. Everyone knew what had happened. I just wanted to get as far away from home as possible. My preacher suggested coming to Haiti, and I figured, why not?”
“I think you did a brave thing,” Dr. Lawrence said. “Haiti will be good for you, and you for it.”
“I hope so.”
When Dr. Lawrence asked Bertha her story, she explained the impact the recipe for dirt cookies in Charlotte’s letter had on her. She told of having to choose to leave her church.
“You left the Amish to come here?” Dr. Lawrence said.
“I never joined,” she said. “There is a difference.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not yet. I believe I’m where God wants me to be.”
She was seated closest to Dr. Lawrence, and as he listened to what she had to say, she noticed that unlike so many people she had known, he listened with his whole body. She had never had anyone focus so intently on her when she spoke. When he nodded in agreement with the choice she had made, she felt like a child the teacher had just praised in front of the class.
“My family pretty much disowned me for my decision as well,” he said.
“Your family did not want you to become a doctor?” Darlene asked.
“No,” he said. “They were fine with me becoming a doctor. My family was appalled when I embraced Christianity.”
“I don’t understand,” Jane said.
“I come from a long, proud line of people who worshiped human intelligence instead of God.” He said. “My great-grandfather was a professor of mathematics. My grandfather was a chemist with scores of adoring students. And my father was a brilliant inventor. They were so very smart; they seemed to think that there was no need for God in their universe.”
“Then what drew you to faith?” Bertha asked, intrigued.
“The study of medicine. The more I learned about the intricacies of the human body, the less I could cobble together a belief that there could ever be enough billions of years for any of that to happen except by design. Call it what you will, but I am utterly convinced there is great Genius behind the creation of this world.”
Bertha found herself leaning on one elbow with her chin in her hand, listening to Dr. Lawrence tell of his conversion. She knew many men whom she respected and loved. Her father and grandfather, cousins, many of the older men in her church. She knew them well, she had conversations with many. But never had she heard a man talk about his faith like Dr. Lawrence. She was entranced.
“And that is why my family doesn’t know what to do with me.” Dr. Lawrence chuckled. “I tend to make everyone very uncomfortable when I go home for holidays and insist on saying a prayer of thanks for the food to a God that they do not believe exists.” He toyed with a salt shaker. “I’m a bit of an embarrassment to them, I suppose. They rather dislike having to introduce me to new people. I can almost feel them wanting to say, ‘This is our son, the one who lost his mind, discarded every rational thing we ever taught him and is now a medical missionary in Haiti.’ But they are way too civilized to say such a thing out loud.”
When he stopped telling his story, it felt to Bertha as though she had come out from under a spell. She had been listening so intently, she hadn’t realized that it had grown dark as they chatted.
“I’m afraid it is time for the children to go to sleep,” Charlotte said. “And all of you must be very tired after your trip. Perhaps it would be wise for all of us to go to bed soon. The children have to get up early, and so do we.”
“I will take you nurses to the hospital with me tomorrow,” he said. “After I get Darlene and Jane settled, I’ll take Bertha to our children’s home. There is much work to do there and not nearly enough hands to do it. You’ll be assisted by some of the native women. They’re quite eager to learn, and they can take an enormous amount of the burden off of you if you take the time to teach them. And don’t worry. You will find yourself doing plenty of nursing. I will be surprised if there isn’t a line of patients outside your door every morning when you get up, once it gets out that a nurse from America is in residence. I’ll make sure you have some supplies.”
Bertha had a lot to think about as she tried to sleep on one of the boys’ small beds. In addition to being a nurse, she was going to have a whole new challenge. Fortunately, she had yet to find a challenge she could not meet and she was determined that she would succeed in this endeavor as well.
Her last thought before she fell asleep was that Charlotte was a lucky woman to be married to a man as wonderful as Dr. Lawrence.
Chapter 28
Amish women often shopped in groups, sharing the expense of hiring one of the multi-passenger vans that dotted the landscape of Amish country.
Rachel’s aunts enjoyed these shopping frolics, as they were sometimes called, but for their doctor and dental appointments, they preferred Rachel to drive them. She readily agreed because she wanted to stay abreast of what the various medical professionals told them.
The presence of Holly now made taking them to their medical appointments a little more complicated than in the past. Rachel’s personal vehicle was a classic two-door Mustang. She loved driving it, and the aunts didn’t seem to mind climbing in and out of the back seat, but getting Holly’s car seat in and out was more difficult than she’d bargained for. As much as it pained her, she had to admit that it would be a good idea to trade it in. She needed something a little more appropriate for a mother with two children and three Amish aunts to drive around.
Today, Baby Holly and Bertha were sharing the backseat. They’d only gone a couple of miles after Anna’s doctor visit when Holly started chewing on her fist. Rachel knew her daughter was doing this because Bertha kept telling her.
“This child is hungry,” Bertha said, disapprovingly.
“I fed her at the doctor’s office,” Rachel said.
“I didn’t see you,” Bertha said.
“You didn’t see me because I gave her a bottle while you were in the room with Anna.”
“I don’t care when you fed her,” Bertha said. “I know a hungry baby when I see one, and this baby is hungry.”
“I will feed her as soon as I drop you and Anna off,” Rachel said.
“Good,” Bertha said.
Rachel usually didn’t mind taking her aunts to doctor’s appointments, but having a new baby to carry along with her was proving to be more difficult than she had expected. Especially since Bertha was convinced that she knew more about caring for an infant than Rachel.
Bertha probably did know more about babies, but it was still annoying having her handing out unsolicited advice every five minutes. Rachel knew she should be grateful for Bertha’s expertise, but she felt ignorant enough as a mother without having it pointed out to her so often.
Anna quietly sat beside her in the passenger seat with her purse open upon her lap as she peered into it.
“Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen…”
“What are you counting, Anna?” Rachel asked.
“My shells.”
Of course, she was. Arranging and rearranging her shell collection and counting them every few days was something that gave Anna a great deal of comfort. Still, it seemed to Rachel like Anna was becoming a little more obsessed with it than usual. Was she feeling that bad?
“How many are there?” Rachel asked gently.
Deep silence while Anna pondered the question.
“I don’t know,” Anna said. “I lost my place. I have to start over.”
“One. Two. Three. Four. Five…”
Rachel didn’t interrupt Anna again.
“So tell me what the doctor said,” Rachel asked Bertha. She could see in her rearview mirror that Bertha was busy tucking the blanket in more firmly around Holly, who continued to make suckling noises as she chewed on her fist.
“Her old doctor has retired,” Bertha said. “Today, we saw a new one.”
Bertha fell silent, watching out the window. Rachel hoped Anna hadn’t gotten bad news.
“And?”
“He seems to think quite the opposite of what Anna should do than her old doctor,” Bertha said. “He believes that Anna might be a little too inactive. He wants her to start taking a walk every day. Outside. He said mild exercise would be good for her.”
The snow was getting heavier. Rachel turned on her windshield wipers and watched for black ice.
“Has he noticed that it is January in northern Ohio?” Rachel said. “Not the safest time for Anna to go walking outdoors.”
Anna seemed unaware of their conversation as she concentrated on counting her shells. The problem was, she kept getting distracted. She had to inspect each one as she took it out of her purse and laid it in her lap. There was a growing mound. Rachel wondered if there was anything at all in Anna’s purse besides seashells.
“He knows perfectly well what the season is and where we live,” Bertha said. “He’s young, but I think he might be rather good at his job. He said the heart is a muscle that needs a certain amount of exercise and a certain amount of rest. He said that too much of either at Anna’s age is not a good thing.”
“Do you agree with him?”
“Yes. I’m thinking maybe Anna’s previous doctor, the one who told us to make sure that Anna got lots of rest, was getting a little tired himself.”
“Did this new one have any ideas about how we are supposed to get her the exercise she needs?”
“I asked him that. He suggested Anna start spending the winter months in Florida. He is aware that a great many of our people go to Sarasota in the winter.”
“He didn’t change her medication?” Rachel asked. “He just told you to take her to Florida for the rest of the winter?”
“He didn’t change her medication, but he was very deliberate about taking the time to talk with her instead of only me,” Bertha said. “He’s the first one to do that.”
“How interesting.”
“I thought so,” Bertha said. “She showed him some of the shells she’d brought with her. He asked her if she would like to go to the seashore again, and she got all excited and said, ‘yes.’ He seems to think her health would improve if she spent time walking the shore and collecting shells instead of staying here in the winter.”
“Do you want to go to Florida, Anna?” Rachel asked.
“Uh-huh,” Anna said, still concentrating on examining her shells.
“And what do you think, Bertha?” Rachel asked. “You’re the medical professional in the family.”
Bertha mulled it over. Rachel thought she seemed unusually pensive and irritable today.
“I think we need to take her to Florida,” Bertha said. “But I do not look forward to the trip. I no longer enjoy traveling.”
As Rachel pulled into her aunts’ driveway, she intended to help them in. The roads had been slick with ice, and she knew the walk to the door could be treacherous. She left Holly in her car seat. With any luck, the baby wouldn’t start crying while Rachel made certain the aunts got into the house safely.
“You don’t have to help us,” Bertha said. “We are quite capable of walking on our pathway and steps.”
“I know,” Rachel said. “But I’d feel better if you let me assist you.”
Bertha made a disgruntled noise before pulling herself out of the car. Rachel leaned into the back seat on the other side and stuck a pacifier into Holly’s mouth. Then she helped Anna out. Carefully, the three of them started toward the house.
Anna was on one side of her and Bertha was on the other. Rachel was holding onto their arms, ready to catch and steady them if they slipped.
“This isn’t necessary,” Bertha protested.
“I know,” Rachel soothed. “I just want to be sure you get to the house in one piece. It’s so very slick out.”
“I go outside all the time without you hanging onto me,” Bertha protested.
“But…” It was at that moment Rachel felt her feet fly out from under her and she landed flat on her back.
As she lay there dazed, she found herself staring up at Bertha and Anna, who were looking down at her with concern.
“Are you okay?” Bertha asked.
Rachel didn’t answer. The blow to the back of her head had made her see stars, and she felt no immediate desire to get up. She lay there a few seconds longer gathering her wits, and while doing so, noticed that both Bertha and Anna were wearing their no-nonsense, black, rubber-soled shoes. The shoes were ugly, but they were much better on ice than the more stylish footwear she had chosen for the day. Depend on the Amish to be practical rather than fashionable. The irony of having nearly taken Bertha and Anna down with her was not lost on any of them.
Carefully she got to her feet, measured with her eyes the length she would have to walk to get to the porch and the much shorter distance back to her car. Rachel made a decision.
“You two go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll just take Holly home.”
“Well, okay. If you are sure you can leave us on our own,” Bertha’s voice held a touch of sarcasm.
As Rachel pulled away, she didn’t blame Bertha for being annoyed with her. She would probably be the same when she was Bertha’s age if Holly or Bobby grew too solicitous.
On the way home, she worried about the trip to Florida. It was probably going to be up to her to drive them there. With the baby—well—she wasn’t looking forward to the trip, either.
Chapter 29
After Rachel dropped them off, Bertha and Anna went into the kitchen without mishap. Bertha helped Anna with her coat, untied her scarf, knelt, and helped her take off her shoes. Until this winter, Anna had insisted on taking care of these small tasks, herself. She was a little clumsy, but she could do it. Now, she stood resigned, like an obedient child.
Bertha also noticed
that Anna’s coat was getting a little snug. They did not have a bathroom scale, but it was starting to become evident that Anna had put on weight.
“Can I go lay down?” Anna complained. “I’m tired.”
“Of course you can,” Bertha said.
“What did the doctor say?” Lydia asked after Anna left. Bertha noticed that Lydia was in the middle of supper preparations, which included making a special treat for Anna.
“Do you suppose we could cut down a little on some of Anna’s food?” Bertha asked.
Lydia looked up, surprised. She was putting pats of butter on top of rolled out pastry crust to make Anna’s favorite dessert, a combination of pie dough, sugar, butter, and pecans.
“But Anna loves this dish.” Lydia protested. “I make it special for her.”
“And she won’t stop eating it until it is all gone,” Bertha said.
Lydia sprinkled sugar and pecans on the raw pie crust dough and rolled it into a sort of pastry log. She sliced the top diagonally several times, laid it on a cookie sheet lined with baking parchment, and shoved it into the woodstove.
“I know I shouldn’t,” Lydia said, miserably, wiping her hands on her apron and dropping into one of the kitchen chairs. “But I’m just so anxious about her.”
“And when you worry, you bake,” Bertha said. “In this case, it might not be such a good idea.”
Lydia repeated her unanswered question. “What did the doctor say?”
Bertha told her.
“What are we going to do?” Lydia asked.
“I guess one of us is going to have to go with her to Florida,” Bertha said, “Or someplace else where it is warm and she can get out more. He mentioned the Pinecraft community as a possibility.”
“Doesn’t Cousin Rosa live there?”
“Our cousin who married that Beachy Amish man? The one who drove a big car? I thought she still lived in Illinois. When did she move?”
“A couple of years ago, I think,” Lydia said. “Her husband was sick, and they went there for his health. The other day when Cousin Eli stopped by, he mentioned that her husband had passed away last year, but she’d decided to stay in Florida.”
Bertha's Resolve: Love's Journey in Sugarcreek, Book 4 Page 11