Authors: Rosalind Lauer
With the dishes done, Fanny yawned, thinking of the chores not even started yet.
“Did Lizzy and the baby have you up all night?” Emma asked.
“I got some sleep. And, Emma, you have to see the baby. Such a cute little thing, with a crown of blond hair like his mother.”
Smoothing down the edges of her apron, Emma smiled. “I’m so happy for Lizzy. A baby boy, you said?”
Fanny nodded as she imagined Emma with a baby of her own. That wouldn’t be far off now … just a few years. A knot of emotion grew in Fanny’s throat at the thought of dear Emma caring for a babe of her own.
So many changes! This family had endured such sadness this past year. Fanny prayed that the changes ahead of them would be for the better. Weddings and babies … many babies, Gott willing.
Emma offered to tidy the bedrooms upstairs, and Fanny set to sweeping the downstairs. She had told Lizzy to go easy on the chores for a few days. New mothers here in Halfway had to be reminded of that. They didn’t get a little break, like the women in the birth centers back home in Sugar Valley.
Such fond memories Fanny had of that place! Fanny’s grandmother had turned the Doddy house into a little retreat with beds and cribs—a place where all the Amish women in Sugar Valley used to go to have their babies. “Going to Martha’s,” a mother would say, and she’d meet the doctor there and get a bed to stay in for three whole days while Martha and her helpers cooked meals and cared for the baby. Women loved going to Martha’s.
Curious about the women who always left Martha’s happily, each with a baby bundled in her arms, Fanny had made excuses for peeking into the building behind their house. She brought cookies and apples. She offered to sweep the floor or wash the windows. Mammi put her to work, giving her light chores and letting her wait on the mothers or change diapers. Then one day, two women were having their babies at the same time, and Fanny was allowed to stay and help. She had watched in wonder as Mammi tended the women with soothing words and warm cloths on their foreheads. She witnessed pain, but few complaints. And when a baby finally
slid into the doctor’s hands, Fanny was hooked. This was a miracle she longed to be a part of, again and again.
Now, as she swept the crumbs and dirt into a dustpan, Fanny wished once again that there was a birth center close by, here in Lancaster County.
At a lull in Lizzy’s labor, Fanny had spun her tale about the birth centers back in Ohio. Lizzy had said it sounded wonderful good, and Joe had wished they had a place like that here in Lancaster, so the docs would know right where to go when they were called. It was a very good point that Joe made. If they had a place like Martha’s here, a birthing center … would Anna take to it? The midwife was in her sixties, slowing down a bit. She might like a place closer to home, even walking distance from her house.
With Tommy on her hip, Fanny headed out to talk with Caleb and Zed about a new possibility for the carriage house.
T
he adrenaline rush of delivering Lizzy and Joe King’s baby was still thrumming in Meg’s veins as she stowed her equipment in the back of her car. Add to that the bubbly joy of attraction to a tall, handsome man, and she had half a mind to dance up the inn steps, Ginger Rogers–style. It was nice to meet someone like Jack, even if it was just a short interlude. Sometimes small moments sparkled like stars. Little gems you could put into your pocket to save for the sad times when you needed them.
She went into the kitchen looking for her sister, but found Shandell scrubbing down the countertops.
“Meg!” The young woman flung her arms in the air with a gaping look of shock. “Oh, my gosh! Zoey told me you had to leave the breakfast service to go off and help Fanny deliver a baby. I couldn’t believe it. How’d it go?” Shandell could never be faulted for lack of enthusiasm.
“There were a few complications, but it all worked out fine.”
Meg poured herself some hot water from one of the urns they kept in the cubby beside the kitchen. “Lizzy and Joe King have a sweet baby boy.”
“Lizzy and Joe King? I think they’re Rachel’s cousins. I’ll bet Rachel’s family is thrilled. The Amish love babies. And you delivered him? Or did you help the doctor? How did that work?”
“The doctor couldn’t make it in time. So, yeah.” Dunking a tea bag in her cup, Meg cracked a smile and chuckled. “I did it.” After all the angst, all the fear that it would never happen again, she’d delivered a healthy baby. The personal victory was sweet.
“I didn’t know you were a midwife.” Shandell tossed away the bunch of paper towels and came around the counter. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was on a break.” Meg faced the young woman, wondering how her sister had managed to find such an earnest, clearheaded employee. That was the luck of Zoey; she had that blithe, unblinking enthusiasm that seemed to attract others of the same ilk.
“So, wait. That’s why you were here, working as the cook. Kind of like a working vacation?”
“I was trying for the vacation part, but as you can see, my sister doesn’t believe in idle time. And where is Zoey?”
“She made a run into Paradise.”
Meg took a sip of her tea, thinking of how Zoey had saved her from that dark room … saved her from herself. And today, pushing her into that buggy with a worried expectant father, Zoey had forced her to face her fears.
My sister should have gotten a degree in psychology
.
“So, the kitchen is done for the day,” Shandell reported. “Zoey asked me to check out our store of eggs and cheese and stuff, and we’re good to go for tomorrow. I transferred those Amish recipes to cards and put them in this drawer.” Shandell opened a drawer to show Meg, and that’s when the realization swiftly hit Meg.
She wouldn’t be here for breakfast tomorrow.
She had to get back to Pittsburgh, back into the thick of the problem. No one was going to step in and fix it for her; she needed to buck up and do it herself.
“Someone else is going to handle breakfast,” Meg said. “I’m going upstairs to pack. It’s time for me to get back to my job in Pittsburgh.”
Time to see if I still
have
a job in Pittsburgh
.
Shandell closed the drawer with a confused expression. “Who’s going to cook for the inn? Can I give it a try?”
Meg shook her head. “You’ll need to talk with Zoey about that, but I think she’d be happy to give you a shot at it.” She lifted her cup to Shandell in a salute. “Thanks for all your help here. You have a great attitude, Shandell.”
The young woman smiled. “Now I just need the credentials to back it up, but I’m working on it. I’m on track to get my GED by the end of summer, and then community college in the fall.”
Meg opened her arms wide to give Shandell a hug, and then proceeded upstairs to pack.
“I am sorry to see you go, but I get it.” Zoey was perched against the pillows of Meg’s bed, wiggling her toes so that she could admire her glittery pedicure. “So you’re not mad at me for making you go and deliver that baby?”
“I’m always annoyed at you for something,” Meg admitted.
Zoey arched one eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest. “The joy of sisterhood.”
“But going to help was the right thing to do.” T-shirt in hand, Meg perched beside her sister for a moment as she recalled the happy couple curled up on the sofa around their baby. They had needed her today. Although Fanny might have been able to untangle
the cord, the Amish midwife’s kit did not contain suctioning tools to clear the baby’s airways. Childbirth could be complicated. Sometimes, serious intervention was necessary.
“I wish you could have seen them—a new family. Once we cleaned the baby up, you could see his crown of golden hair, just like his mother. And a little button nose. And Lizzy and Joe were all over him, talking and cooing and cuddling. A newborn is such a magnificent thing—a true miracle. In all the turmoil over my investigation, I lost sight of what really matters.”
“That is so beautiful!” Zoey pressed a hand to her throat. “You’re getting me all choked up.”
“Being there this morning, I knew what I had to do. All the training and experience, it was at my fingertips. I’m good at what I do.”
“Yes, you are. When my time comes, you’re the one I want yelling at me to breathe and relax so that I don’t break every bone in Tate’s hand.”
“I care about my patients. I keep up with the latest technologies and developments. I’m not afraid to call an ambulance and transport to the hospital when a patient needs it.”
“That’s right, honey.” Zoey patted Meg’s shoulder. “You have always done the right thing. Even when I tried to keep you from telling Dad who ate all the Oreos, you had to confess. Moral and honest to a tee.”
“The charges against me are wrong,” Meg said, folding the T-shirt in her lap. “I didn’t break protocol for the Collier baby. I called for transport to the hospital, but the ambulance couldn’t get through.”
“I was wondering when you were going to tell me about that nightmare case.” Zoey’s lips were pursed now, about as serious as she ever got. “Tell me about it. I’ve been dying to get your side of the story.”
The icy desolation of that terrible night came rushing back to Meg. So far she had only told her sister a few details—that she had been called to the scene by a neighbor of the pregnant woman, who didn’t know her well at all, but had taken pity on her.
“She’s owned the place for about a year now,” the neighbor had told Meg over the phone, “but I’ve only seen her a handful of times. Didn’t even know she was expecting a child until she called the house and woke us up. My husband called 911, but the local rescue squad is clearing a crash on the bridge. There’s black ice everywhere. They don’t think that they’ll be getting out here anytime soon. I saw from the phone book that you live in the area. Maybe you can get here.” The neighbor, Nora Landers, said she was going to stay with Ms. Collier: “But I’m not much good to her. I’m no doctor.”
Meg had told Nora she would try to make it out to the Collier place, but made no promises in this weather. Hanging up, she fell back against her pillow, teased by the temptation of warmth and sleep.
Deedee Collier was not her responsibility. Most midwives did not take on clients already in labor. A good midwife worked with a mother throughout her pregnancy, developing a relationship and monitoring her medical condition. Meg had no obligation to brave the bad weather to serve Ms. Collier.
But as she rolled over in bed, her eyes wide open, she felt a tug of sympathy. Denying this woman help seemed ruthless. She couldn’t ignore the pang of duty deep inside.
“So I got dressed,” Meg told her sister. “With all-wheel and studded tires, I figured I could make it. I drove out to Deedee Collier’s place at the end of a dirt road that was like an Olympic luge run. It was treacherous. Even my Subaru was slip-sliding around. But I made it—only to find complications. Deedee was semiconscious; her vitals were weak. The baby was breech, and the fetal heart rate
was slow. There’s no way of knowing how long it had been that way, but it’s a sign of fetal distress. She needed a C-section. I called 911 again, and was told it would be at least two hours. That was going to be too late, so I went to bring my car closer to the house, figuring that Nora and I could load Deedee into the backseat and I’d drive her there myself. But I slipped on the porch steps and fell hard on the ice. So hard that I saw stars and blacked out for a moment. Such a terrible night.” Meg told her sister that no state allowed a midwife to perform a cesarean, with good reason, and that had been what Deedee needed. With tears dripping down her cheeks, Meg had worked to keep the mother alive while the baby slipped away, a light gone dark before it had a chance to shine in the world.