Bertha's Resolve: Love's Journey in Sugarcreek, Book 4

by Serena B. Miller

  “Not liking people is a rooster’s job,” she said.

  As he and Calvin walked home, Alex felt more hopeful than he had for a long time. It was nice to know that there were still some very good people in the world. He had just met one of them.

  Chapter 49

  “I made an appointment with my doctor for Anna,” Rosa said, over breakfast.

  It felt odd to be eating a bowl of fiber cereal while sitting on the couch, but that was Rosa’s routine, and Bertha was trying not to disrupt her cousin’s life any more than she and Anna had to.

  The fact that a morning news show blared from the big-screen television, also felt quite odd. Rosa seemed to need TV on all day, or she got nervous. She called it “background noise” and said it was a comfort to her. It was a terrible annoyance to Bertha, but she was trying hard to be a good guest.

  They had only been here two days, and Bertha did not yet feel comfortable enough to take over Rosa’s kitchen to cook something more substantial. Besides, what with walking the beach and the reduction in calories, Anna was already acting like she felt better.

  Darren had left after one night on the couch. Even though he didn’t stay long, he so thoroughly charmed Rosa that she had offered to adopt him. Anna seemed happier than Bertha had seen her in years. Everything was going well, although it did surprise Bertha that Rosa had made a doctor’s appointment without checking with her first.

  “Oh?” Bertha said. “Why?”

  “Because if anything happens while she’s here, it would be good for her to have a doctor. I’ve already talked to Gwen, and she understands the situation. She said she would be happy to see her.”

  “Gwen?” Bertha asked.

  “Dr. Gwen Thomas. She’s my doctor, but she also goes to my church. A general practitioner. If Anna has any heart issues while she’s here—God forbid—Gwen will be able to get her in to see a specialist. Otherwise, you might be out of luck.”

  It made sense. Rosa might wear shorts, have dyed red hair, and wear lipstick and earrings, but she wasn’t a stupid woman. Nor was she without compassion. She had been wonderful with Anna.

  “What day is the appointment?” Bertha asked.

  “Gwen’s office called a little bit ago and said they’d had a cancelation and can get her in today.” Rosa checked her watch, which she wore on her wrist instead of having it tucked away in her pocket as a good Amish woman would do. The timepiece was a pretty thing—cobalt blue with fake diamonds around the face of it. Bertha’s cousin was most definitely no longer Plain. Not in any way, shape, or form.

  “It’s in two hours. Plenty of time to get ready,” Rosa said.

  One of the things that Bertha had noticed about Rosa was that she was seldom still. It had been so long since Bertha had seen her cousin she wasn’t sure if this was Rosa’s way of not thinking about having lost her husband, or if it was just her nature to be continuously involved in some activity. Except for breakfast, they had rarely eaten at home since she and Anna had arrived. It seemed like they were continually coming and going to various restaurants. Making this appointment just felt like more of the same, but Bertha did think it was a good idea.

  Bertha supervised Anna’s dressing until she was ready to go out in public, then she braided her own hair and wound it tightly around her head before anchoring it with bobby pins.

  Anna, who was seldom shy, did not have a problem with meeting new people, not even a new doctor.

  After they arrived, when the nurse ushered them into the small examining room, she had Anna climb onto the examining table, which left one chair for a visitor and a stool for the doctor. Rosa motioned for Bertha to take the chair.

  “No,” Bertha said. “I would rather stand.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want the chair?” Rosa said.

  “I am sure.” It was a matter of pride for her. Rosa wasn’t that much younger than Bertha, and yet she seemed to want to pretend that there was at least a decade between them.

  Bertha was stewing on that when Dr. Gwen came in. The late fifties or early sixties. Small in stature, graying hair, kind, but weary-looking eyes. She was wearing a salmon-colored dress under a white lab coat. She also wore earrings, but they were small. Barely noticeable. Bertha wished that Rosa would be inspired to do the same.

  “Hi, Rosa,” she said. “These must be your relatives from Ohio?”

  “My cousins, Anna, and Bertha.”

  “It’s good to meet you finally,” Dr. Gwen said, glancing at Anna’s chart. “Rosa often speaks of her family.”

  “Thank you for taking the time to see us.” Bertha meant it. It wasn’t every doctor who would see a patient who had no insurance whatsoever.

  “Now,” Dr. Gwen said, smiling at Anna. “Who do we have here?”

  “I’m Anna!” Anna said beaming.

  “It’s good to meet you, Anna,” Dr. Gwen said. “I think we are going to be friends.”

  As Dr. Gwen examined Anna, Rosa mentioned to Bertha that Gwen’s father had once been a medical missionary in Haiti. Then, for reasons Bertha couldn’t fathom—it certainly had nothing to do with Anna’s health—Rosa found it necessary to tell Gwen that Bertha had also once been a medical missionary in Haiti.

  The doctor was concentrating on listening to Anna’s heart. For a few moments, she did not seem to be listening to what Rosa was saying.

  “When were you there?” The doctor removed the stethoscope from her ears. She had heard Rosa after all.

  “Early sixties to the mid-eighties,” Bertha said.

  Dr. Gwen had been reaching for a thermometer. She stopped, turned, and gazed at her.

  “Could you possibly be the same Bertha, who worked with my father and mother?”

  “I don’t know,” Bertha said. “Who were they?”

  “Anthony and Charlotte Lawrence.”

  Bertha felt her stomach clench.

  “Yes,” Bertha said, evenly. “We worked together for a few months before I went back to the states. I returned later.”

  “This is remarkable,” Gwen said. “I’ve heard stories about you from my mother. Mom used to talk about the amazing nurse from Ohio, who helped Dad get through the aftermath of hurricane Flora. She almost made me want to go into nursing, myself because she made you sound so heroic. Dad insisted I become a doctor, though.

  Bertha was dumbfounded. Why would Charlotte speak so well of her to her daughter? Had Charlotte not known what had sent her scurrying back to the states after the hurricane?

  “Anna,” Dr. Gwen said. “It looks to me like Florida agrees with you. Are you enjoying your walks on the beach?”

  “I like it here!” Anna said. “I pick up seashells.”

  “We do have quite a lot of seashells,” Dr. Gwen said. “If you keep doing what you are doing, I think your doctor back home is going to be very pleased the next time you see him.”

  “Thank you.” Bertha hoped they could leave now without any more conversations about Dr. Gwen’s parents.

  “If my father knew you were here,” Dr. Gwen said, “he would insist that you come over to the house for dinner. Since he quit practicing medicine, he’s become quite a cook. Tonight we are having smoked salmon. It’s one of his specialties.”

  Bertha began to protest, but Dr. Gwen wouldn’t hear of it. “It would do Dad so much good to visit with someone who was such a good friend to our family. He’s a valiant man and pretends to be fine since Mom’s death, but I know he struggles with loneliness, even when I’m there.”

  “Oh, Bertha! You have to go,” Rosa said. “Think how wonderful it will be to relive old times.”

  For the life of her, Bertha could not come up with a good reason to refuse. At least nothing that wouldn’t make her look foolish. Apparently, she was not going to get out of this easily. Perhaps, after all these years, it would be best to face him again finally.

  “I will look forward to it.”

  It was the first lie she had told in a very long time.

  Chapter 50

>   Rachel was washing off tables at Joe’s Home Plate, with baby Holly sleeping peacefully in her wrap. She’d seen another young mother at church using one, and it seemed like the perfect way to help Joe out at the restaurant while Holly was still so young. It freed up her hands so she could do a few easy tasks with Holly’s tiny warm body tucked safely beneath her heart.

  The dinner crowd was long gone, the rest of the staff had left, and Joe and Rachel were preparing to lock up the restaurant and go home.

  She wondered how Darren’s trip to Sarasota was faring. It took a lot of patience to deal with her aunts. Even a trip to a local doctor’s office was cause for a great deal of flurry and packing. Then there was Bertha’s nervousness if Rachel dared drive much faster than the speed of a fast buggy horse.

  Poor Darren. It was kind of him to volunteer to take them, but she was pretty sure he had regretted it by now.

  I’m finished,” Joe said. “You about ready?”

  Rachel glanced around for Bobby. She hadn’t heard his boisterous voice for a few minutes. “Where is our son?”

  “He was here just a moment ago,” Joe said.

  They stared at one another in alarm. After almost losing him to kidnappers the year before, they were extra sensitive when Bobby wasn’t in sight.

  Their hunt took them into every corner of the restaurant and finally up the stairs to Darren’s one-room apartment over the restaurant where they found their son curled up in his bed sound asleep. The apartment key was still clutched in his hand.

  Rachel guessed that he had gotten sleepy, had not wanted to bother her or Joe, knew where they kept Darren’s key hidden and had taken care of putting himself to bed—even if it wasn’t his own bed. He’d taken naps up there a few other times. Bobby was such an independent little guy.

  Silently, she chastised herself for having let him get out of her view so easily. She heard a slight cough behind them and turned to see who it was.

  “Well, well, well,” Darren said, standing at the door with a small suitcase in his hand. “Look at that. My family decided to move into my apartment while I was gone.”

  “You’re home!” Joe said. “And in one piece. How did the trip go, brother?”

  Darren dropped his suitcase on the floor, collapsed on a chair and dramatically dropped his head into his hands.

  “That bad?” Rachel asked.

  “It wasn’t easy,” Darren said. “I can say that much. I definitely earned my pay.”

  “You aren’t getting any pay,” Joe said.

  “Oh yes,” Darren said, peeking up at them through his fingers. “I forgot. I volunteered. Don’t let me do that again.”

  “How hard was it?” Rachel sat down on the edge of the bed and gently patted Bobby’s leg. “Time to wake up, son.”

  Bobby was so sound asleep he didn’t move.

  “How bad?” Darren considered. “Well, Bertha doesn’t feel comfortable driving more than fifty-five miles per hour. I bet you knew that and didn’t tell me. She sat in front and watched my speedometer like a hawk.”

  “She actually allowed you to go fifty-five?” Rachel marveled. “I usually have to keep it under forty when I’m driving her. You have to remember that she’s used to a buggy speed. Forty is fast to her.”

  “Yeah, I know. I tried to be sympathetic, but after a while, I felt like the Israelites wandering around in the desert. I told her that if we were going to make it to Sarasota before next January, I’d have to speed up.”

  “So how did she take it?” Rachel asked.

  “I set the cruise control on the legal speed limit and convinced her she would have to deal with it.”

  “Seriously? And how did that work out?”

  “What could she do? She dealt with it.”

  “Impressive! I’ll have to try that. How was Anna?”

  “Quieter than usual. Just kept her nose to the window, watching the scenery. Now and then, she would pull out her little purse of shells and count them or look at that book about seashells she’s always carrying around.”

  “What about food?” Rachel asked, although she was reasonably sure of the answer.

  “I think Lydia loaded more food into that cooler than Bertha and Anna packed clothing in their luggage,” Darren said. “It was like she was afraid they might go into a restaurant and eat.”

  “It’s just the Amish way to pack plenty of food for a trip. They are a frugal people. I’m sure Lydia had been planning for days what she would send.”

  “Oh, I’m not complaining about the food,” Darren said. “I’m wondering if we should start carrying Lydia’s meatloaf sandwiches for the restaurant.”

  “How long did it take you to get there?” Joe asked.

  “About seventeen hours. We didn’t stop much.” Darren said. “Bertha didn’t want to overnight any more than I did, and Anna just napped in the back seat.”

  “Do you think Rosa’s will be a good place for them?” Rachel asked.

  “I think so,” Darren said. “I didn’t stick around long. I just slept on the couch for a few hours and then headed back home.

  “You drove straight back, as well?” Rachel said.

  “I was afraid Joe might do something stupid if I didn’t get home soon.”

  “Like what?” Joe asked.

  “I don’t know. Hand out pieces of raw bass and try to call it a sushi bar?”

  Rachel patted the little boy’s leg again. “Come on, Bobby. Time to get up and go home.”

  Bobby stirred sleepily, then he opened his eyes, saw Darren, and was instantly awake.

  “Uncle Darren!” he shouted. “You’re home!”

  Darren was obviously weary, but he still had enough energy to catch Bobby as he catapulted off the bed into his arms.

  Bobby got a hug, then Darren tousled his hair and set him down. “Seems like the older I get, the more it matters having a family to come home to. How have the receipts been the past couple of days?”

  “We survived without you, brother, but just barely,” Joe said. “Business has been good, but we had a busload of tourists empty out here yesterday, and we weren’t expecting them. We managed to make everyone happy, but it wasn’t easy.”

  “Who do they think we are?” Darren said indignantly. “McDonald’s? What was the bus driver thinking?”

  “Apparently, we have managed to become a tourist attraction, thanks to my baseball history and Lydia’s pies,” Joe said. “They cleaned us out, and we had to close early, but we made a nice profit. We may need to rethink some things in case that starts happening more often. The biggest problem was the seating. Some of the locals who were here saw the problem and had us package their orders to go just to give us room. But we do need more space.”

  “We only need more space during tourist season,” Darren said. “And that tends to be the warmer months. I wonder if we could manage to put picnic tables in the back.”

  “It would require landscaping,” Joe said. “And we’d have to find a different place for people to park.”

  “Or we might consider expanding into the empty store next door. If we could afford to buy it, we could open up that wall and add another thousand square feet or so to our restaurant,” Darren said.

  “I’m not sure our kitchen could handle that many people,” Joe said. “We would have to expand it also.”

  “As fascinating as this conversation is,” Rachel said. “We need to get the children home, Joe."

  “You are absolutely right,” he said. “And we need to let Darren get some rest.”

  As Joe took Bobby downstairs to the car, Rachel gave Darren a sideways hug with Holly still sleep in the wrap. He placed a kiss on top of the baby’s fuzzy little head and smiled down at her.

  “I’m so happy for you and Joe. You have the sweetest children.”

  Rachel could hear the heartfelt sincerity of his voice. Darren might’ve been Joe’s ne’er-do-well brother for a while, but he had definitely redeemed himself. Had he not been willing to sell his fancy car and i
nvest all the money into their restaurant startup, she wasn’t sure where she and Joe would be right now.

  “I love you, my brother.” Rachel said. “Thank you for what you did for my aunts. I’m grateful that it was you who took them. I knew they would be safe with you.”

  Darren’s eyes softened at her words.

  “It wasn’t as bad as I made it sound,” he said. “I was just trying to make you and Joe laugh. I enjoyed the trip. Once Bertha began to relax, we had a good talk about her early days in in Haiti. I’d never heard much about that part of her life. It was fascinating.”

  “I’m surprised she talked with you about it.”

  “Me, too,” Darren said. “Listening to her made the miles go faster. Bertha was quite a woman in her day.”

  “She still is,” Rachel said.

  Chapter 51

  Bertha lay back in Rosa’s deep bathtub, wondering what her life would have been like had she never read Charlotte’s letter about dirt cookies.

  Would she have remained Amish and married one of the nice young Amish men who had shown interest in her, and would she have been content with such a life? All her other friends had seemed to be. By the time she got back to Sugarcreek after her second sojourn in Haiti, many of her friends had large families. Many were the grandparents of young children. Many had created family businesses that successfully employed many.

  She, on the other hand, had nothing to show for the twenty years she had spent on the mission field except her memories and the knowledge that she had made a difference. There had been some victories. The little girl she had once thought of as the girl with no face had lived at the children’s home after her surgeries until long after she was grown. Missionaries from the states purchased a sewing machine for her, with which she started a small business—enough to sustain herself. Bertha remembered her as scarred, but so joyful it only took a moment to look past the ravaged face and see the beautiful spirit within. Her twin sister eventually went into business with her. By the time Bertha left Haiti the second time, both women had good husbands and families.