Love Still Stands (15 page)

“Not her boyfriend.” His face red as a radish, Elijah backed up, making room for Bethel
to enter. “Just her driver.”

Bethel started to protest, then stopped. “He’s Elijah. He’ll run errands while I do
this.”

“Nothing’s open this early except the diner on Main Street. They serve outstanding
pancakes and even better steak and eggs for breakfast.” Doctor Karen smacked her lips
as if she could taste the pancakes. “You look like you could use a cup of coffee,
Elijah.”

“I could,” he conceded. He turned to Bethel. “You all set?”

She wanted to grab his hand and hang on. She wanted to run away. But of course she
couldn’t, which was the whole point of being here.

“Bethel?” Doctor Karen patted her arm. “Not to worry. This won’t hurt. I promise.”

Maybe not physically. Sweat ran between her shoulder blades. At seven in the morning.
She blew out air and nodded.

“Come back in about two hours or so, Eli. Can I call you Eli? That’ll give us time
for the PT and the group stuff.” Doctor Karen made it sound like they were planning
a wonderful frolic. “It might take a little longer this first time around, but you’re
welcome to wait in the lobby. There’s coffee and water and doughnuts and magazines—”

“It’s Elijah. Thank you.” Elijah fled as if trying to escape the deluge of words.

Doctor Karen led Bethel down the long hallway to the same rooms she’d visited the
previous day. “The other guy must’ve been a lot bigger.” She held a door open. “Your
boyfriend got walloped.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. And it was a car.”

“He’s good-looking. He should be your boyfriend. And what do you mean, a car?”

“A car hit him.”

“What kind of car? What was he driving? Did you report it to the police?”

The litany of questions flooded around Bethel. She couldn’t breathe, but that might
be the nerves that clanged with anticipation. She’d been awake most of the night,
staring into the dark, thinking of the sweatpants and the enormous rubber bands and
the bicycles she’d seen in the physical therapy room. A swimming pool with warm water.
Would she see Shawn today? Her lungs couldn’t seem to get enough air.

“I don’t know. He was on a horse.” Her voice sounded high and breathless in her ears.
“No police. We don’t need the police.”

“You need to calm down. You sound like you’re about to self-combust.” Doctor Karen
cocked her head toward the door. “This isn’t a torture chamber. We’ll start easy and
work our way up. You’ll like it. Especially when you get to throw away those crutches.
I promise. Now get in there and change so we can get started.”

Bethel clutched her crutches. Her feet were frozen to the spot.

“It’s okay. We’re the only ones here. I promise.” Doctor Karen gave her a sympathetic
smile. “I understand. You’re very modest. I promise I won’t say a word to anyone.
Everything in here is between you and me.”

Inside, Bethel slid from her dress and pulled on the sweatpants with shaking fingers.
She felt like a small child learning to dress herself. She pulled the sweatshirt over
her shoulders. The neck caught on her kapp in a painful jerk. “Ouch.” She tugged it
free and stuck her arms through the sleeves. Her gaze caught the image of herself
in the mirror that hung on the wall in the tiny dressing room. Why? Who needed to
see themselves dress?

Still, she couldn’t look away. She didn’t own a mirror and she had never seen herself
in a full-length one before, only the little pocket mirrors her childhood friends
occasionally kept in their bedrooms. She looked scared. And silly. In her lumpy, shapeless
gray outfit with its elastic waist and baggy legs and black Converse sneakers she
looked like someone else. An entirely different woman from what she imagined herself
to be. Her bun had loosened in the fight to don these Englisch clothes. She took a
step toward the mirror. So this was what she would look like if she’d taken a different
road. If her
rumpspringa
had taken her to a different place. Unlike some of her friends, she’d never explored
this path by wearing Englisch clothes. The woman looking back at her was a stranger.

Her cheeks reddened. She put her hands to her face, fascinated by the transformation.
Stop it. Stop looking. Gott, forgive my vanity
.

She turned her back on the mirror, removed the kapp, and carefully redid her hair.
Years of practice allowed her to do it with her eyes closed. The kapp was placed firmly
back on her head and affixed with pins. She was ready.

Still, her throat dry, hands sweaty, she hesitated.

“Are you about done in there?” Doctor Karen’s disembodied voice floated through the
door. “We don’t have all day. Let’s go. I won’t look. I promise.”

But she did. Bethel saw the woman’s lips curve into a small smile when she slinked
into the hallway on her crutches. “There you are. See, it’s not so bad.”

Famous last words. After a long series of stretching exercises, Doctor Karen coaxed,
cajoled, encouraged, and bullied Bethel into using muscles she hadn’t used in several
months, maybe in her entire lifetime. The weight machine wasn’t so bad because she
could sit and use her arms, which had grown stronger as she relied on them for everything,
even as her legs grew weaker. The therabands were unfathomable. Doctor Karen started
her with the yellow one, but she couldn’t make her legs stretch it. “Nothing’s happening.”

“It’s all right. You start small and work up. You’ll move up to the green band before
you know it. Let’s move to the stationary bicycle.”

No better. Her efforts to make the pedals turn were fruitless.

“I can’t do this.” Sweat dripped in her eyes, but she didn’t dare raise her hand to
wipe it away. She might fall off. “Nothing’s happening.”

Doctor Karen adjusted the straps that held Bethel’s feet in the pedals. “Come on!
Push! Push, try harder!”

“I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough, obviously!” Doctor Karen clapped her hands. “Do it, do it! Push!”

Bethel leaned into it. Her back ached, her muscles screamed. Every part of her wanted
to give up. The pedals moved. Her legs pumped up and down. “I did it! I did it!” She
laughed with relief and gasped for air. “I’m riding a bicycle!”

Doctor Karen stood back, arms crossed over her chest, a grin on her face. “You sure
are. Now keep it up.”

Bethel managed to do just that for two minutes before her legs gave out.

“That’s good. We don’t want to overdo it.” Doctor Karen unbuckled the straps and held
out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get you changed. You’ve got a group session to attend.”

“Already?” Bethel took the woman’s hand. She’d rather endure this grueling physical
assault on her body than talk to a group of strangers about her life since the storm.
“I can do more.”

“Not today. This is a marathon, not a sprint.” Doctor Karen squeezed her hand. “I’m
proud of you, Bethel. You did well. It’s all about attitude. You’ve got a good one
and that’s half the battle.”

Buoyed by the woman’s kind words, Bethel tried to take a step without her crutches.
She could do it. She could. Her right leg buckled. Doctor Karen grabbed her with both
hands. Not today. “Like I said, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You have spunk, young lady.”

Spunk. Just what a Plain woman wanted.

Chapter 15

B
ack in the dressing room, Bethel contemplated the door with the sign that said
Shower Room
. Her clothes were soaked with sweat. She probably smelled. How could she sit in a
room with a bunch of strangers smelling like this? Still, she couldn’t imagine taking
a shower in this place with its open stalls and flimsy shower curtains. She’d never
taken a shower in her life. She longed for the quiet washroom and its roomy tub where
she had all the privacy she needed. Stink or clean? Her head ached with the choices.
What would Leah do? What would Mudder and Daed tell her?

After a few seconds of contemplating her choices, Bethel stuck her dress and apron
over one arm and pushed through the door using her shoulder. A long bank of shower
stalls with skimpy blue curtains lined one wall with a series of sinks along the other.
That would do. She leaned her crutches against the counter and used it to prop herself
up. Every muscle in her body ached, but it felt good. She might pay tonight or tomorrow,
but for now, it felt good.

She snatched paper towels from the dispenser, ran cold water, and began washing herself.
She added pink, flowery smelling soap from the dispenser and rubbed it against the
paper towel until it became sudsy and washed her face, neck, and underarms. She removed
the sneakers and sweats and wiped down as best she could. Then she struggled into
her dress, her damp body making it a battle that took her last ounce of strength and
most of her remaining patience.

“There.”

Bethel heaved a sigh and looked for the first time at the long mirror that covered
the wall over the sinks. Mirrors everywhere. Why? The woman looking back at her had
color in her face that hadn’t been there before, but otherwise, it was her. The Plain
woman she’d always been. The sweats and the exercise machines hadn’t changed that.
They would simply allow her to be the person she’d been before and do the things she
needed to do to be a helpful member of her family and her community. The ends justified
the means. What would her Daed say about that? He’d say it was a slippery slope. He’d
say she needed to understand how a wrong step might send her tumbling into the arms
of a world that would separate her from her family and her community, and most importantly,
from God. She walked a thin line. Bethel managed a soft laugh to herself. As if she
could walk any line. She smoothed her hair one last time and patted her face dry.
She smelled fine.

Doctor Karen stood outside the room, waiting, just as she had earlier. “I thought
you might want some company walking to the group session.” The woman had an inexhaustible
supply of smiles. Bethel decided she liked that about Doctor Karen. “The first time
can be a little intimidating.”

“I’m very tired. Maybe I should do this next time.”

“Nice try. Don’t worry. It’s very relaxed. No running involved.” Doctor Karen started
down the hallway, adjusting her efficient stride to Bethel’s crutch-assisted hop.
“You don’t even have to say anything this time. Sometimes listening to what the other
folks have to say can be as helpful as talking. What they’re going through might sound
familiar. It can be surprisingly enlightening.”

Enlightening? Unless there were some Plain folks in the group, Bethel doubted any
of them faced quite the same set of circumstances. Englischers had so many conveniences
in their homes. And fewer children to raise, which meant less cooking, cleaning, and
sewing.

Doctor Karen gave her back one last pat and trotted toward her office. Bethel slid
into one of only two remaining empty chairs in the circle of padded green chairs that
filled the small room. Posters with smiling people and encouraging quotations lined
the walls. She tried not to look directly at anyone, but she couldn’t miss Shawn’s
welcoming grin. He’d pulled his wheelchair into a spot next to a woman in an identical
one. She looked young too, with black hair cropped close to her head and streaked
with purple and pink color, a silver stud in her nose, and a lot of black goop around
her blue eyes. One hand twisted a lock of purple hair. She didn’t look up from studying
the floor when Bethel came in.

“Hey, it’s nice to see you again, Miss Bethel.” Shawn’s smile came and went suddenly,
like a flash of light. “Are you doing your first workout today?”

“Already did.” She managed to get the words out. They sounded cool in her ears, but
wasn’t that what she wanted? Luke’s instructions had been clear.
Do what the doctor tells you to do, but keep to yourself. It’s for the best
. “Nice to see you.”

“Wow, you must be an early bird.” He frowned, looking like a little boy denied a fry
pie. “I didn’t know you could work out that early or I would do it. I’m always up
before the rooster crows.”

Bethel took a closer look at him. He had dark circles under his eyes. He was such
a bundle of energy, she’d missed it. Another person with bad dreams.

Another thing they had in common.

Forcing herself to ignore that thought, she gazed at her damp hands lying limp in
her lap.

A hand touched her shoulder. She jumped.

“You must be Bethel. We’re so glad to have you. I’m Doctor Jasmine Leaning Tree, the
group facilitator.” The young woman—she couldn’t be much older than Bethel—had olive
skin and wore her long black hair in a braid twisted around her head. Clad in khaki
slacks, a blue pullover, and a purple jacket with the name of the clinic embroidered
on the pocket, she looked too young to be a doctor. “Let’s have introductions first
for the benefit of our new member, then I’ll ask Bethel to tell you about herself.”

Around the room they went. Bethel tried to grasp and hold on to each name. Leaning
Tree would be easy because it was so different. But the other six…why did it seem
hard to remember them? Her palms were sweaty and her dress damp. Maybe she smelled
after all. The girl with the multicolored hair: Crystal Macon. She’d been in a car
accident nine months earlier, she informed Bethel, and no miracle would allow her
to use her legs again. Mark Stover, a young guy, maybe sixteen, dove into the river
while partying with a bunch of his friends from high school. He broke his neck. Before
the accident he played basketball, baseball, and football, and hunted with his dad.
Now he was paralyzed from the neck down and needed a respirator to help him breathe.
He spent his spare time playing video games.