Brush of Angel's Wings (35 page)

“I'll be at the desk doing paperwork. Push the red button if you need anything.”

“
Jah
,” she said, softly touching the baby's fingers. She gazed at the suckling infant. “You look like your
mamm
. Her eyes were blue too.” Rachel's throat constricted at the thought of the baby never knowing Sadie.

Rachel worried about Timothy. He hadn't even chosen a name, and the woman from the medical records department had inquired every day. She explained she needed the information to fill out the birth certificate, which must be completed soon.

The incubator labeled
King infant girl
sounded cold and detached.

The last few days blurred like a dream spoken in a foreign language. So many worldly things to accept. Rachel wanted to bring the clothing Sadie had sewn for the baby, but the nurses insisted that they needed access to the IV lines and the hospital clothing had snaps for that purpose. The hospital staff also rejected the idea of the baby wearing the traditional white
kapp
. However, once the nurse explained how the knitted pink hat kept the baby warm and how critical it was to maintain the baby's temperature, Rachel understood.

The door opened. A tall man entered the room. Dressed in a paper gown over his clothing, a mask covering his beard, and a blue hospital cap in place of his straw hat, Rachel barely recognized Timothy. He no longer looked Amish.

“How is she?” He moved toward her with obvious apprehension.

“Wundebaar.”
She eased out of the chair. “Sit here and I'll hand you the
boppli
.”

Timothy sat and Rachel lowered his daughter into his arms.

“She's so small,” he said, gazing at his daughter.

“Jah.”
She handed him the bottle. “I'll give you some time alone with her.” She hadn't taken more than a few steps toward the door before he called her in a panicked voice.

“
Nay
, please stay.”

She turned. His eyes were wide. She came back to his side.

“I don't know what to do,” he said.

“It
kumms
natural in time.” She watched with wonderment how tiny the baby was in his arms and how carefully he held her. “She is pretty, ain't so?”

“Like Sadie.” His eyes turned glossy. “Maybe you should . . . take her.” His voice fractured as tears drained from his eyes and soaked into the paper mask he wore.

Rachel's eyes pooled with tears, hurting for him as well as herself. She dabbed her face with her gloved hand, but the latex material couldn't soak up the wetness. Timothy looked just as desperate to hide his pain. He stared at the ceiling.

Rachel understood he needed time to grieve, but bonding with his daughter was important too, and he didn't seem comfortable with that.

“Look, she's almost finished the bottle.” She took a cloth diaper and draped it over his shoulder.

Timothy flinched.

“Go ahead, you'll do fine.”

He slowly lifted the infant to his shoulder and lightly tapped her back.

“That's
gut
,” she reassured.

“She isn't doing anything.”

“She will.”

After a few more taps, the baby burped.

“Well,
Daed
, what do you think of your daughter
nay
?”

He stiffened, then motioned Rachel to take the baby. After passing off his daughter, Timothy walked out of the room, tearing off his mask and wiping his eyes.

Rachel rocked the baby.
God, this child needs her father. Please show Timothy mercy during his time of grieving. And, God, I ask that you direct me in how I can help him
.

“Rachel, give Timothy time to come around,” Nathaniel whispered. “He must first accept God's will before he can be the father God has called him to be.” Nathaniel brushed the tips of his wings over the infant's cheek.

“You are precious in God's sight, little one.”

After a few minutes, Timothy reentered the room. “I spoke with the nurses at the desk,” he said, his voice quiet and soft. “They said she can go home in the morning.”

Rachel smiled. “I suggest you name her so her birth record is complete.”

He sobered. “I've been thinking about it. I keep coming back to how Sadie wanted her name to be Ella Sue.”

“After
mei mammi
,
jah
?” Rachel smiled.

“I told Sadie I wasn't fond of the name . . .
Nau
. . .”

“Sadie would be pleased, Timothy.”

The nurse stepped into the room. “How much did she drink?”

“The whole thing.” Rachel held up the bottle.

“That's good. What about a bowel movement?”

“I haven't noticed, nor have I changed her diaper. She's probably in need of a fresh one.”

Rachel hadn't adjusted to using disposable diapers. At home, the baby would wet through a cloth diaper and that would be the signal to change it.

“I'll take her,” the nurse said. “I need to get her vital signs and temperature again.”

Rachel released the baby. “Her name is Ella Sue.”

“That's a beautiful name.” The nurse looked at the sleeping infant. “For a beautiful little angel.”

Ella Sue fussed the moment the nurse placed her on the counter and removed her diaper.

Timothy leaned close to Rachel. “What is she doing?”

“It is strange, isn't it? They weigh her diaper.” She pointed to the clipboard next to the scale. “The nurse told me they record everything Ella takes in and puts out on that chart.”

“Why?”

“It's a way they can see if her kidneys are working.” She tipped her head toward the door. “Want to take a walk to the cafeteria?”

“Sure.”

Once outside the nursery, Rachel removed the mask, hair bonnet, and disposable gown and tossed them in the designated trash. “Wearing this gets hot after a while, ain't so?”

“Jah.”
Timothy tossed his used coverings into the trash can. “This place smells like death.”

Rachel inwardly agreed. Her throat burned from the chemical scent
. I can do all things through Christ Jesus who strengthens me. I need your power, Lord. Show me how I can help Timothy
.

They stopped in front of the elevator and Timothy pressed the Down button. He jammed his hands in his pockets and lowered his head. “I don't want to be here,” he said.

“Neither do I,” she said, sadness welling up inside her. “God has a plan.”

He shot her a sideways glare but said nothing.

Rachel straightened her shoulders, pushing her own pain to the back of her heart. “Concentrate on your daughter. She needs you.” Her words felt empty and true at the same time. The gap Sadie left was powerful, deep, and painful. Yet the helpless
boppli
was here now, and she did, truly, need her father.

The elevator door opened and they stepped into the crowded compartment. With the button for the lobby already lit, Rachel clasped her hands and looked down at the green marble tile. Once the door opened again, she stepped into the main lobby and waited for Timothy.

“The cafeteria is this way,” she said and began to walk down the newly familiar hallway. A lump grew in her throat. At least in the nursery holding the baby, she felt useful. This silence gnawed at her nerves. She swept her hands over her apron and blew out a breath as they entered the cafeteria.

Timothy headed for the coffee station. He filled two disposable cups, then turned to her. “Are you hungry?”

“
Nay
. Naomi brought me a basket of lunch.” She surveyed the large metal pans of food along the serving line. “You should eat though.”

“There is plenty at home.
Mei mamm
and others in the community have seen to that. They have brought too much food.”

At the register, Timothy put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a few dollars. The worker gave him back coins, which he shoved in his pocket before picking up the coffee cups. He stopped at the condiment stand and removed the plastic lids from the cups. He reached for a packet of sugar, then paused. “I forgot, do you take cream or sugar?”

“
Nay
. Black is
gut
.”

The corner of his mouth turned down and she knew he was remembering how Sadie liked her coffee extra sweet.

“There's a table next to the windows.” Rachel pointed to the far wall that overlooked the courtyard.

“Okay.” He carried the cups and followed her across the room. Timothy sat facing the window. “It feels like a nightmare.” His focus drifted to her. “Does it feel that way to you?”

“
Jah
, I suppose it will feel this way for a while.” She didn't like remembering the dark time after James died. And how she still hadn't seemed to finish walking through it.

She didn't deny struggling to understand God's will. In their own quiet way, everyone busied themselves with tasks to keep the grief at bay. Timothy made funeral arrangements; in spite of being ill,
Mamm
cleaned the house in preparation for Fanny and Iva's arrival; and Rachel tended the baby.

“Part of me died,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Rachel dabbed a napkin against the corners of her eyes. What could she say? And there was the big question looming over them. How would Timothy rebuild his life without Sadie—and with a baby?

Water trickled down the courtyard fountain, with bright violet shades of impatiens circling the collecting pool. She should've suggested they sit on one of the outdoor benches. The sounds of nature would be more soothing than the clang of cafeteria dishes. “Do you want to move outside?” she asked.

Timothy continually stirred his coffee with the tiny plastic straw. “We wouldn't hear if they paged us.”

“
Jah, gut
thought.” Although with the noise level in the cafeteria, she wasn't sure they would hear their names if they were called there either.

He took a sip of coffee, then lowered the cup to the table and slowly ran his finger around the rim. “
Denki
for staying so many hours with the
boppli
.”

“I'll be happy when Ella can go home. One more day.”

He continued to trace his finger around the cup rim. “I heard Jordan left.”

“Jah . . .”

“I'm sorry. I know Sadie—” He cringed.

“What is it?”

“I was trying to move the conversation away from Sadie. But then I started to say that Sadie had prayed about you getting married when she recognized a budding relationship between you and Jordan.”

“
Jah
, she told me so too.” Rachel dabbed her eyes with the napkin again. “But Jordan made it clear he wasn't Amish.”

“
Nett
many
Englischers
become Amish.”

And Jordan wouldn't be one of the few either. Rachel sipped her coffee, which was quickly becoming lukewarm. “The flowers are beautiful.”

After a few minutes of silence, he drained his cup. “Are you ready to go back upstairs?”

Rachel took another drink to finish hers. “
Jah
. I don't want to leave Ella too long.”

They tossed the empty cups in the trash and walked to the elevators. Rachel pressed the Up button and waited. The floor indicator lit as it made its way to the ground level.

Timothy cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I go back home? I still have to meet with Bishop Lapp.”

“I'll stay with Ella. You do what needs to be done.” The door opened and Rachel stepped inside. “I'll let the nurse know you'll be here tomorrow to sign the papers.”

“
Denki
again.”

The doors closed and Rachel shut her eyes as the elevator climbed. “God, show me how to comfort Timothy during this trial. He's hurting, but I can't see through my own pain to know what to do for him.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

R
achel stood between her two sisters during Sadie's funeral, which was being held inside Sadie's house. Her family hadn't yet finished grieving the loss of James, and here they were preparing to bury another family member. The suffocating silence tore at her heart.

The Amish didn't memorialize the dead with lavish flowers or long speeches of what the deceased had meant, but Rachel knew people were reflecting silently.

She was.

Sadie had always looked out for Rachel. Sadie made sure Rachel had a ride home from the singings. Sadie never once implied that Rachel's presence on those rides had interfered with her dates with Timothy.

She glanced at Timothy. He clutched Ella in his arms and kept his head low throughout the service.

As was custom, Bishop Lapp finished reading a hymn from the
Ausbund
. After the portion of the service at the house, everyone made their way to the line of buggies.

At James's funeral, after the service in the house, the bishop read a few scriptures at the graveside and the men dug the grave. Later people came back to the house. Sadie's funeral would be the same. The talk would be simple. Then the cows would need to be milked and the animals fed.