The Caregiver (6 page)

“Or, for us, a train that worked,” he murmured.

Unable to help herself, she tilted her head back and laughed.

And felt even lighter when Calvin joined in.

Chapter 7

“M
attie, isn’t this such a wonderful-
gut
activity? I knew as soon as we got around our friends, our spirits would lift.”

Mattie smiled and nodded from her chair at the edge of the Knepps’ kitchen. Privately, however, she wished she was sitting almost anywhere else. It was hard to watch ladies and girls her age bustle around the kitchen . . . making fried pies to sell. For her benefit.

When her mother gave her a meaningful look, Mattie cleared her throat. “Yes. I mean, I’m terribly grateful for you all.”

“Don’t think anything of it,” Gwen Kent said as she cut more shortening into the dough. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Well, all I know is that these will be the flakiest fried pies anyone has ever tasted, for sure,” her mother said. “People will snap them up.”

“Oh, they will,” Joanne Knepp said confidently. “Everyone likes a
gut
fried pie, for a wonderful cause.”

Gwen darted another smile her way.

“The way you all are working so hard in our makeshift assembly line practically brings tears to my eyes,” Mattie’s mom said to everyone.

Mrs. Knepp chuckled. “We work so well together, we’re almost professional,
jah
?”

Feeling left out, Mattie got to her feet. “Maybe I could help box them up?”

Mrs. Kent waved away her offer with one hand. “Oh, please don’t, dear. I’d feel awful if you wore yourself out. All you need to do is get better soon.”

“I agree,” Mrs. Knepp said. “It’s enough that you’re here. And making these pies gives me a nice reason to enjoy everyone’s company. All I’ve been doing is either spring cleaning or working in the garden.”

“
Jah
. Having an excuse to be in the company of other women all day is a wonderful-
gut
thing,” Mrs. Lapp agreed. “Mattie, are you comfortable?”

“Mighty comfortable.
Danke
.” Mrs. Knepp had pulled into the kitchen one of the upholstered chairs from her front room.

After carefully taking two pies out of hot oil and setting them on an old newspaper to dry, Mrs. Knepp said, “Mattie, you had a doctor’s appointment today, yes?”

Pure dismay coursed through her as she realized that all the women in the room had just perked right up.
“Jah,”
she said.

“Did you learn any news?”

Mattie felt her stomach sting. “It was just a checkup.”

Her mother jumped into the conversation. “Mattie’s stitches are healing nicely, though he was a bit concerned about some of her blood work. He asked you to rest as much as possible.” She nodded. “Right, Mattie?”

What could she say? Weakly, Mattie nodded—though an evil part of her wanted to glare at her mother. Really, if she was that concerned about her welfare, shouldn’t she have taken her home—instead of putting her on display in someone’s kitchen?

After the women made some clucking noises, Mrs. Knepp asked, “Mattie, won’t your cousin be here soon to help?”

“Lucy will be here this evening.”

“She’ll have to come over. I’ll introduce her to lots of people,” Gwen said.

Just as if Lucy was coming out to vacation.

Mattie fought to keep a smile on her face. Honestly, it felt like no one really understood how weak she felt. How dismayed. How worried she was about her future.

Her mother spoke. “Unfortunately, Lucy’s train broke down in Toledo, and she has to spend most of her day there.”

“Poor Lucy,” Mrs. Knepp said. “I remember meeting her years ago. I would have hoped her journey was easier.”

“I would have hoped so, too, but one must deal with what one is given,” her mother said with a meaningful look Mattie’s way. “I have faith that she’ll get through this challenge well and good, and have a story to tell.”

“At least one,” Mattie said drily.

Mrs. Knepp’s eyes twinkled. “In any case, Lucy’s arrival should cheer you up, Mattie dear. And that is the most important thing, yes? And I bet a few of these wonderful-
gut
pies will, too.”

“I like the lemon ones,” Hannah Kent said.

“Me too, dear,” Mrs. Kent said with a smile. Wiping her hands on her apron, she continued: “Now, let’s finish up this task so Ella can sell them at the market on Saturday.”

“I wish I could go and sell them, too,” Hannah whispered.

“Ella will see that not a one is left over,” her mother assured her. “Ella Hostetler is such a serious young woman. Always thinking about others.”

“Do you think we’ll ever sell pies again?” Hannah asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Mrs. Kent said with a grimace. “Treating cancer is an expensive undertaking.”

Her eyes full of compassion, Mrs. Knepp walked over and gently clasped Mattie’s shoulder. “We’ll do whatever it takes to help with the costs. Everyone here in Jacob’s Crossing will.”

“I appreciate that,” said Mattie’s mother gently.

And as the room quieted, Mattie felt her depression grab on to her more tightly. Not only was she terribly sick, but the illness was putting an awful burden on her family.

“Gwen, cheer us all up,” Mrs. Knepp said brightly. “Tell us what is going on between you and Will Kauffman.”

Gwen sighed, her green eyes turning dreamy. “Oh, nothing much. We are merely seeing each other.”

“Seeing each other seriously,” Gwen’s mother corrected with a smile.

Mrs. Knepp clapped her hands. “Gwen, should we be talking about wedding suppers yet?”

“Not at all,” Gwen replied, a pretty blush staining her cheeks. “Will and I are simply spending time together.”

As the women started discussing Will and Gwen, and a few other new couples in their community, Mattie closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep.

It was too hard to sit and smile . . . realizing that she might never be like Gwen.

If the chemotherapy didn’t work, or her cancer came back . . . she would never be thinking about a man of her own.

J
ohn didn’t regret passing on the walk with Calvin, Lucy, and Katie in the slightest. Though he loved their company, it had been a long while since he’d spent so much time in the constant company of others. A little privacy was no problem.

And, for that matter, he didn’t necessarily think Calvin and Lucy were going to miss his presence all that much anyway. There was something going on between them—he was certain of that.

Even if they both seemed to be oblivious to those sparks.

After getting a cold drink, he found a quiet table and opened up his laptop. In no time, he was surfing the web, reading e-mails, and catching up on Facebook. As he read different posts, he replied to a few, clicked “like” for a couple others.

And then he spied Angela’s picture.

His ex-wife. He hadn’t heard from her in years, hadn’t thought about her in years. And now, not only had he been thinking about her on the train, but here she was, posting about a new puppy she was training to be a guide dog.

John’s fingers hovered over the keys. Every nerve inside him screamed to ignore her profile picture. To not revisit his past.

But, unable to resist the temptation of seeing her again, he clicked on the photo anyway.

Her dark eyes staring back at him brought forth another rush of memories. Oh, why did she still have to be so pretty? Like a starving man, he scanned her profile information. Noticed that she was married. Had two children.

Obviously nothing ever stayed the same.

He remembered their many arguments about their future. Time and again, she’d pushed off his talk about having a baby one day. All she’d ever wanted was a pretty house and the freedom to shop and do as she pleased—without her family’s suffocating closeness.

Though he hadn’t understood her need to distance herself from her parents, especially when they’d helped him so much, John had ached to make her happy. So, he’d never said a word when she insisted they stop visiting her family for Sunday dinner.

When she’d teased him about his
Amish
ways, he worked even harder to fit into the English world. He stopped talking about things that were important to him and worked hard. He’d bought her the things she said she wanted.

But, eventually, those things had not been enough.

And then his lack of education hadn’t been enough.

And then, one day, she’d told him that he hadn’t been enough.

All of a sudden, the pain of her rejection stung him as if it had just happened. Not years ago. Feeling frustrated with himself, he quickly shut down his computer and put it away.

He should have known better. It was hard enough to go back to Jacob’s Crossing—the last thing he needed was to spend more time on his failings with Angela, too.

After fishing out his book, he gave all his attention to the mystery. Yes, it was far better to concentrate on this story than his past. Or his future.

Or on how sometimes he felt sure Angela had been exactly right—he wasn’t enough, and he never would be.

Chapter 8

“M
attie, are you all right?” her mother asked through the bathroom door. “You’ve been in there quite some time.”

Struggling for patience, Mattie replied, “I’m fine. I just wanted to get cleaned up.”

“Oh. Well, yes. I suppose it was a
verra
long day. Do you need help getting dressed?”

“
Nee
. I can still dress myself, Mamm,” she said sharply. More sharply than she had intended.

“I know you can. I just thought you might need—”

“I don’t.” Mattie could hear her mother’s feet shuffling a bit, like she was trying to walk away from the other side of the door but couldn’t.

“Oh. All right, then. I will go work on the laundry . . . if you need me—” She paused. “Do, uh, you need some of your laundry done?”

It took almost all the energy she had not to snap at her mother. Not to tell her to give her some space.

But that wouldn’t be right, of course. Here her mother was trying so hard. Trying so hard to be helpful and positive—showing her love through her perpetual busyness. Mattie knew from experience that being happy and strong for someone else was difficult to do.

“I don’t need anything washed,” she finally said, “but thank you. I’ll be out soon,” Mattie promised. As soon as she heard her mother step away, she sighed. Oh, but she needed to free herself from this anger that seemed to have taken hold of her and didn’t want to let go.

It gripped her when she was least aware of it and pulled her unapologetically into a dark depression. Worse, she never knew what would set her off.

Today, it had been the extra blood tests that the doctor had ordered. Although he said it was a normal occurrence, Mattie just wasn’t sure. Always in the back of her mind, there was a dark thread of awareness brewing. There was always a chance that the cancer could return.

Those worries had stewed and grown when they’d been at the Knepps’.

She felt weighed down. All she saw when she looked in the mirror was a girl who was less than she used to be, who was damaged before she even had a chance at life.

Turning away, Mattie quickly fastened her dress together, then left the bathroom. She felt the cooler air of the hall fan her face as she walked to the kitchen. She listened for her mother’s voice as she approached.

But the voice that greeted her was far deeper. “Mattie, I was wondering when you were going to appear. It’s about time, I think.”

“Daed! I didn’t know you were home.”

He shrugged as he stood awkwardly facing her, his hands behind his back. “I thought I might do some things around the house today. It’s been a while since I weeded the flower beds.”

Mattie couldn’t remember her father
ever
weeding the beds. But perhaps this was just her father’s way of spending more time with her?

She stepped forward and took his arm. “It’s
gut
you’re home when it’s daylight.”

He laughed. “I am enjoying it as well, though I feel a little out of sorts, if you want to know the truth.”

“That’s because you’re used to spending every day with the dairy cows.”

“Most likely. However, I’m hoping that perhaps the cows can do without me for a time.”

“I’m sure they’ll do their best, though they might make you pay for your neglect tomorrow,” she teased. For as long as she could remember, her father had always said the cows had a jealous streak a mile long.

“Their jealousy might be bearable if you will spend some time with me this afternoon, daughter.”

“Of course I will. What would you like to do?”

“Would you like to sit outside for a bit while I tend the flowers?”

“I could help you—”

“No, you could not. You may not weed, daughter.”

She’d always hated weeding. She hated how it was a constant thing, and how more often than not the weeds never failed to have prickers that bit into her hands.

How ironic that now that she couldn’t pull dandelions, she ached to do so. Anything to give her a sense of normalcy. “I’ll try to only watch.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Try?”

“All right. I promise I will not weed. I’ll just sit and watch you work.”

“Then, you may join me.”

She sat in the shade and watched him work, liking how his beard was so light it blended with his tan skin. Her dad was such a good man. A kind man, to both her and her mother. Hopefully one day she would find a man so wonderful.
If
she would survive to be a wife and mother.

Ah, the darkness had come again. “Daed, do you think I’ll ever get better?” she blurted.

Abruptly, he stilled. “Well . . . I hope so. I hope and pray that you will. That’s all we can do,
jah
?”

She nodded. Because he hadn’t been overly optimistic, she felt comforted. For some reason hearing his words, so plainspoken and bare, gave her more of a sense of peace than all the flowery promises her mother constantly spouted.

And for the first time since the doctor had calmly told her she had cancer, Mattie felt a little ray of sun filter through her cloud of depression.

Maybe she was going to be okay after all.

Having cancer wasn’t easy. But living without hope was even harder.

L
ucy knew she’d never forget their day at the Toledo Zoo. After arriving there in the taxi, she, Katie, and Calvin explored the grounds as much as their time had allowed.

Katie had laughed at the hippos and Calvin had enjoyed the monkeys. She was interested in all of the beautiful historic buildings that made up the zoo, and enthralled about the idea of the men of the Great Depression building such things of beauty.

It had reminded her that it was always best to move forward, instead of dwelling on the past.

But even more special than the architecture and the antics of the animals were her companions. Lucy had truly loved her time with Katie and Calvin Weaver.

Katie, with her spunk and mischievous ways, reminded Lucy of her little brothers and sisters.

And Calvin . . . his way of looking at the world, with joy and amusement in almost everything, made her happy.

For the first time in months, she felt a true sense of optimism. A true feeling of hope for her future. Perhaps one day she really would be able to live without fear, without anxiety. Maybe this trip to Ohio was the fresh start she’d been needing.

As they crossed the street, Lucy pointed out a horse and buggy. “Our buggies would feel very different if they looked like that, wouldn’t they?” Lucy teased.

“My
mamm
wouldn’t like it none,” Katie declared. “It’s too . . . too everything.”

“You said that exactly right, Katie,” Calvin said. “It is
too
everything, indeed.”

The buggy was a tourist attraction, to be sure, as fancy as anything she’d ever seen—with ribbons and bands of flowers adorning a painted carriage. A young couple was standing next to the horse and getting their picture taken.

Calvin followed her gaze and pointed. “Look at how that driver has it all decorated. It’s nearly blinding. Beauty wouldn’t care for all those decorations on his harness.”

Katie giggled. “Oh, no, he wouldn’t!”

Lucy was grinning, too, when she felt Calvin tense. “Katie, you stay with Lucy. I’ll be right back,” he muttered before striding up the block. Right to where the carriage was parked.

Katie tightened her grip on Lucy’s hand. “What’s he doing?”

“I’m not sure,” Lucy murmured. She almost ignored his directive and followed, but then stood frozen in shock as she watched him loosen the horse’s lines and direct people away from it.

When a man who was obviously the horse and buggy’s owner started yelling at Calvin, he stood his ground.

Beside her, Katie murmured, “Oh, my. Look how mad Calvin is at the driver!”

“He’s mad?”

“Uh-huh. Calvin never yells, he just scowls, like he’s doing now.”

Lucy swallowed the lump that had just formed in her throat. “Your brother certainly is scowling. I wonder why he doesn’t just walk away? It’s not his horse.”

Looking up at her, Katie shook her head. “My brother would never do that. Not if he was upset, anyways. Calvin doesn’t back down.”

With a sinking feeling, Lucy watched the driver fold his arms over his chest and yell. Though Calvin didn’t seem to be yelling, too, Lucy noticed that he didn’t back off one bit.

Actually, Calvin looked to be terribly angry. Every so often, he would point at the horse and glare. When a young couple approached, obviously eager for a carriage ride, instead of moving to one side, Calvin shook his head.

The driver’s voice rose as the couple scurried away.

As she watched all of this unfold, Lucy’s insides turned to ice. Was this the real man she was seeing? The real Calvin underneath all the jokes and kidding? A man who could let anger overcome him, reducing everyone around to silence?

Lucy blinked as the driver said something and turned away. Then practically dropped her jaw when Calvin stepped forward and argued again.

Even from her distance, Lucy saw that Calvin was in the man’s space. Standing so close that the man had no choice but to listen. Just like Paul used to do to her.

Though Calvin wasn’t touching the man, Lucy recalled Paul gripping her shoulder, his fingers digging into the soft muscles of her shoulder.

Calvin wasn’t actually yelling at the driver, but Lucy could almost hear Paul yelling at her. Saying such awful things that her ears would ring.

“Lucy, your hand’s all clammy.”

“Sorry.” Pulling her hand away, she wiped her palm on the skirt of her dress, then placed both hands protectively on Katie’s shoulders.

Tears pricked her eyes as she pushed the awful memories away. Forced herself to look toward Calvin, hoping that he had turned back into the calm, patient, fun-filled man she’d gotten to know that day. The man she’d started to believe in.

But that man had vanished, right before her eyes.

Calvin’s voice became more harsh. Lucy noticed his hands were balled into fists at his sides. Then, when the man started to walk away, Calvin grabbed his shoulder.

Against her will, she flinched. “Oh, this is terrible,” she murmured.

When she gripped her apron with both hands, Katie used the freedom to rush forward.

“Katie? Katie, come back!” Lucy called out.

“I’ll be fine. Calvin needs me,” she said as she weaved her way through the people, then stopped at his side.

Lucy held her breath, half waiting for Calvin to turn on his sister. But he didn’t. Instead, he took her hand in his and kept talking.

But Lucy had seen enough.

Unable to stand there another minute, she crossed to the opposite corner of the intersection and scurried down the sidewalk, taking care to keep her head down and to look away from the small crowd around Calvin.

Picking up her pace, she practically raced the last two blocks to the train terminal and burst through the doors. A few people looked up at her arrival, but then turned away.

Thankful for some peace at last, she slowly walked to the electronic board showing the train schedule. Noticing that her train was still due to leave at five, Lucy looked for the quietest, most out-of-the-way spot that she could find.

She would sit there and wait. Wait for the train to come, so she could board and get to Cleveland. And while she waited, she made a vow right then and there to never think the best of Calvin Weaver ever again. She had seen his true colors.