A Simple Faith: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (20 page)

“It’s a wonder, the way Gott made us,” Fanny had said, grateful for Haley’s information.

Now Haley clicked the pen, curious about the conversation in that meeting.

“Would you stop?” Aeesha reached up and swiped the pen out of Haley’s hand. “Enough!”

“Sorry. Nervous habit, and I hate waiting around.”

“If you’ve got nothing to do, look up the treatment protocol for postsurgical appendectomy for me.”

“Okay.” Haley was clicking on a website when she heard a shuffle in the corridor. She shot a look down the hall and saw the dark dresses and suits of the Amish people emerging from the conference room. “They’re out. Gotta go.”

Haley stepped into the corridor, then paused when she realized the group was headed this way. She held her breath, trying to get a beat on the group’s mood. The medical personnel were unfathomable; Thomas’s family seemed sad but reconciled to their loss.
Most eyes were red and puffy, but there were no dramatic tears or sobs.

Elsie came down the hall, holding hands with her little sister, Beth.

“Hey.” Haley swiped a strand of blond hair out of her eyes.

Elsie looked up, her eyes pleading. “They’ve given up on Dat.”

It wasn’t that simple—Haley knew that—but this wasn’t a conversation for a crowded hospital corridor. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Elsie nodded. “Can you come with us to Dat’s room?”

“Sure.”

“But I’m getting a candy bar from the machine first.” Beth looked up at Elsie. “Right?”

Elsie gave a playful tug on the little girl’s braid. “Ya, you can have a candy bar.”

Room 303 had become familiar to Haley over the past week, with its small window overlooking the parking lot, the second bed used by Fanny Lapp, and the dozen folding chairs that had been brought in for Tom’s visitors, a group that had sometimes swelled to large numbers over the past week.

Haley helped Jenny open up chairs once again, making sure that everyone had a comfortable place to sit with Thomas. When Beth appeared with a giant Snickers bar, she told Haley that Elsie was waiting for her outside.

She found Elsie leaning against a wall by the snack machines, staring off into space.

“What’s the matter? Can’t decide between Snickers and Three Musketeers?” Haley asked.

“It would be nice if that was my worst problem.” When Elsie looked up at her, Haley noticed the dark smudges under her eyes. “They’re going to let my dat die. I’ve been praying for a miracle, but instead, everyone is giving up.”

“Have you considered the fact that no one has a choice here?” Haley glanced at the shiny linoleum floor beneath them. “Let’s pull up a seat,” she said, sliding down against the wall until she was sitting on the floor. Side by side with Elsie, with knees pulled up to the chest, they were eye to eye.

“I can only imagine the way you’re feeling right now,” Haley said. “But I want you to know that the doctors here don’t give up on a patient. If they think there’s a chance of recovery, they’re all over it. The thing is, I don’t think they’re giving up on your father. I think they’re looking at the medical facts, and the reality is that he is dying. You and I can’t stop it, and neither can the doctors.”

“Only Gott in heaven has the power over life and death.”

“That’s right. And we can cry and scream and shut down.”
The way I did, until Dylan helped me
. “But in the end, we can’t control these things.”

“I know that.” With a heavy sigh, Elsie let her head drop back against the tile wall. “My head knows that it’s true. It’s my heart that won’t let Dat go.”

Haley felt the sting of tears in her eyes at the thought of losing a loved one. Elsie articulated her feelings so well. “I know you’ve been praying for him.”

Elsie nodded. “I can’t be disappointed with Gott. I keep telling myself that I don’t understand His plan. But I’m going to miss Dat.”

“I’m sure you will. Do you want to be with him now? A chance to say good-bye?”

Elsie closed her eyes for a moment, fraught with weariness. Haley thought she might be falling asleep until she spoke. “Ya. I want to be with him. And Fanny needs looking after … the little ones, too.”

“I think Beth is all set for now.” Haley stood up and reached down to help Elsie. “She’s got her Snickers bar.”

Elsie didn’t smile—she didn’t respond at all—and Haley wondered
if she should stop trying to cheer her friend up. Sometimes, people needed space to grieve.

Back in Thomas’s room, the mood was quiet but social as folks chatted and a nurse hovered near the patient. Elsie and Haley took a seat.

Over the past week she’d witnessed the Amish custom of bringing the entire family to the hospital whenever possible. Unlike many Englisher people who were uncomfortable around sick or dying patients, the Amish seemed at ease keeping vigil beside a dying friend.

Caleb’s tall silhouette filled the door frame. He entered and came over to crouch near Elsie. “It’s done then. Fanny signed the papers with the doctors.”

Elsie pressed a hand to her mouth and nodded.

Emma appeared with Dr. Benton, who spoke with some of the visitors about the weather and the “marvelous” cookies one of the women had brought for the nursing staff.

“I know they were meant for the nurses,” Dr. Benton said, “but occasionally they feed me if I’m good.”

To Haley, the lack of solemnity seemed a bit odd for the room of a dying man, but the relaxed atmosphere definitely made the situation easier to tolerate. Death seemed to be yet one more aspect of living that the Amish had learned to cope with.

When Fanny entered with Dylan, Haley breathed a little easier, knowing that he would be nearby to support Elsie’s family and friends. After the successful treatment of her own problem, Haley was an advocate of guided imagery therapy, and she sensed that the Amish would be equally interested in a treatment that didn’t involve drugs or surgery.

Fanny stood by her husband, touching his face fondly. When she bent down and kissed him, Haley had to look away. It seemed like such a private moment.

“We need to say our good-byes,” Fanny said, cutting through the chatter. “Then Dr. Benton is going to turn off the machines.”

Elsie rose and went to her father’s bedside. She climbed the stool that had been placed there, kissed his cheek, and whispered a few words.

Emma and Caleb followed, and then Fanny brought the two small children over. Beth leaned out of Caleb’s arms to give her dat a kiss, and Will climbed up on the stepstool and gave him a hug.

Will and Beth seemed to understand what was happening, and no one sought to take them from the room. The children weren’t being shielded from the truth; they were being taught that death was a fact of life.

Without ceremony, Dr. Benton turned the breathing apparatus off, then unclamped the tubing that went into Thomas’s mouth. From his chair in the back of the room, the bishop began singing something. It was really just a round “O,” but everyone joined him, their voices rising and blending in. Each graceful, gliding note was held for so long, Haley was reminded of a yoga chant. The sound was sweet and sad at the same time; a hopeful lament that made goose bumps rise on the back of Haley’s neck.

Whether it was a prayer or a hymn, the doleful sound that filled the room made Haley think of a soul rising to the skies. She thought of what Graciana had said about the angels carrying her daughter off to heaven, and she tried to imagine the same happening for Thomas Lapp.

Thomas’s chest was no longer rising and falling. There would be no more pain for him, but no more sunrises, either.

Summoning her sliver of faith, Haley silently said a prayer for the soul of Thomas Lapp, and the comfort of his family here on earth.

23

“
Y
oung man, will you add this to my purchases?” The old woman, who was swallowed up in the large coat, pointed to a birdhouse with a roof of copper-colored tiles.

Ruben came around the counter and lifted the hefty house from its pillar. He placed it on the counter and brushed his hands together. “There you go.”

“I could use a big, strong man like you around the house. Ever since my knees went out, I don’t trust myself to balance and lift.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, but I’m going to need some help getting these things to the car.” She peered up at him over her reading glasses. “Now I know you ride only in horse-drawn buggies. Are you allowed to deliver things to a car? As long as you don’t ride in it?”

“We can ride in automobiles,” he said. “But we can’t drive ’em or own ’em.”

“Really? Well, that explains a lot of things. So I guess you could
ride in an ambulance or on a fire truck if you needed to. That’s a good thing.”

Her words reminded Ruben of the accident, and his mouth went sour. It had been a little more than a week since that awful day, but time hadn’t buffered the memory yet. How could the pain fade, when they’d just lost Thomas last night?

It’s his store I’m running
, Ruben had told himself all day as he went through the motions of making sales for the Lapp family.

“You can just leave the package here for a bit,” the woman said. “I’m waiting on my sister, who’s deliberating the merits of cherry versus peach pie filling.”

Ruben leaned back on Elsie’s high stool and focused on the customer. Conversation helped keep his mind off things. “I take it this is your first visit to Lancaster County.”

“Can you tell? I live in Massachusetts, and I’m visiting my sister in Delaware. She’s never been here, either, but we’re loving the handmade crafts. I love anything that’s organic and homemade, and your store has a wonderful assortment of things. It’s a treasure. I’m so glad we found it. I’m Doris, by the way.”

“I’m Ruben.” He was about to explain that this wasn’t actually his store, then he thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. He didn’t mean to trick Doris in any way, but he didn’t want to get to the point of explaining why Elsie couldn’t run the store herself right now.

The accident was something that Ruben did not discuss with anyone, and he wasn’t going to change now and blather on to a total stranger.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Doris said as he began to wrap her smaller purchases in cloth and ribbon, the way he’d seen Elsie do. “But I have another question for you. Why is it that you don’t have a beard like the other Amish men we’ve seen driving their rigs?”

“Because I’m not married.” He took out a bolt of the cheapest
fabric and cut off a large piece of cloth—big enough to wrap the birdhouse. “A man starts to let his beard grow after he gets married.”

“Oh, I see. Did you hear that, Meryl?” she called to another woman who had now moved on to the quilt section. “He’s not married.” She turned back to Ruben. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I hope I will soon.”

Doris chuckled; it was the harsh caw of a cackling crow, but a merry laugh nonetheless. “I’ve given up hoping for that.”

“Hope is a funny thing,” he said without looking up. “Just when you give up trying to catch it, it lands right in the palm of your hand.”

Doris sighed. “That’s a beautiful saying.”

He gave her the total for her purchase, and she wrote out a check in flowery handwriting. Another big sale. And five minutes later, when her sister purchased the quilt she’d been deliberating over, he saw that the sales total for the day was the highest since he’d started minding the shop on Monday.

It was good knowing that Elsie’s family would keep getting the income they needed, especially with the hospital expenses for Thomas. And part of him was relieved that he hadn’t scared her customers away—being a man who was all thumbs and not too good with dainty things.

Ya, they were going to need money for the hospital and doctors and now the funeral expenses, too. He’d heard that Caleb was working with Adam King, a good carpenter, to build his father a coffin. Maybe it was a way to save money, or maybe he just wanted to do one last thing for his dat. Ruben didn’t know for sure, but he knew that these were sad days for the Lapp family.

He’d had a taste of that kind of sorrow himself, and he knew it was a hard boulder to move.

Ruben was just finishing up with the last customers of the day, some ladies who’d come on a minibus, all of them with red hats, when the door bells jingled and in walked Elsie.