The Letters (35 page)

“Yes, Vera. Try to sleep now.”

But of course, Vera didn’t want to sleep. As far as she was concerned, it might be the last night of her life on earth. Why spend it sleeping? she told Rose. Finally, Rose turned on the light and read the Bible aloud to her. Psalm 23, then 139. Vera quieted at those ancient words of comfort. Soon, she was snoring loud enough to rattle the windows. Rose closed the Bible, turned off the light, and tried to sleep.

After such a long night, the thought of Rose’s own bed sounded heavenly, but she knew Vera needed her. “Thank you, Fern, but I’ll stay.”

Later, trying to get comfortable on the awful chairs in the waiting room for the ICU floor, she regretted that decision. Tomorrow night, if Vera continued to improve, she would take Delia up on her offer to stay at her house for the remaining nights until Vera was released. She spread a gray blanket over her that a nurse had brought out. Its color mirrored the reflective mood Rose was in. She thought of the kind and considerate friends who had waited with her all day in the hospital. Of Fern Lapp, who said she would take a meal over to Eagle Hill for tonight’s supper. Of Delia Stoltz, who was staying at her own home tonight and promised to check in first thing in the morning. Of Hank Lapp, who kept everyone entertained with the box of dominoes he had brought with him.

Her mind traveled to Dean. His chief focus, especially in the last few years of his life, had been on making more and more money, but did money bring any greater happiness than friendship? She thought not.

Then she thought of Galen. He had given up a day of work to stay by her side, and she knew what that meant to him. And she had ended up hurting him.

Before Fern and the others had arrived, she and Galen had gone outside to get some fresh air. They stopped at a bench, blanketed in sunshine, and sat down. Out of the blue came the question, “Rose, have you given some thought about letting me court you?”

She had been dreading this conversation. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it plenty.” The smile she gave him came a little shakily. “Can’t things just go on between us the way they’ve been going? As good friends?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me. You might as well tell the grain to stay green. The way we are now might be fine for you, but not for me. I want more, Rose.”

“I’m not right for you, Galen.”

“What you really mean is . . . I’m not right for you.”

She raised her head. Those piercing green eyes were looking down at her under the brim of his black hat, searching her face, trying to see into her heart. “Yes,” she said softly. She felt him stiffen beside her and look away. It pained her to say those words to him—nearly as much as she knew it pained him to hear them, but it was the truth.

Slowly he turned back to her. His face was flat and empty, but a muscle ticked in his cheek and she could see the pulse beating in his neck, fast and hard. “I’ll go see if there’s any word about Vera.” He walked to the door that led to the hospital waiting room, half turned at the door, then swung back. “The hard truth is that I’m not the one who’s too stubborn and independent and unbending. You are. You won’t let anyone help you. You don’t mind having people rely on
you, but you don’t want to need anyone. If that’s not pride, I don’t know what is.”

He waited, but there was nothing more she had to say to him, or at least she hadn’t within her the words he wanted to hear. The silence hung between them, waiting for someone to act—but then they heard someone call Galen’s name. They turned and saw a group of Amish church friends, climbing out of a Mennonite taxi at the curbside, who had come to help stand vigil. Galen walked over to meet them.

Pride?
Pride?
He thought she was prideful?! Rose was stung.

It was unfortunate that Bethany’s first day of work at the Sisters’ House happened to fall on the day Mammi Vera ended up having surgery. In a way, though, it helped Bethany to keep her mind from fretting about her grandmother. She couldn’t do any good by just walking the walls of the hospital, anyway.

Early that morning, Bethany was met at the door of the Sisters’ House by Ada. She led Bethany into the living room and told her to start from one corner and go from there. “Use your own judgment about what to keep or what to get rid of.”

“Are you sure?” Bethany asked. “I don’t really know what you might need.” Not that there was anything worth salvaging, in her mind. Maybe a box of fabric for quilt scraps. A ball of yarn. Everything else?
Out!

“Maybe you’re right,” Ada said. “We do use everything, sooner or later. I just hate that feeling of when you throw something out and—”
snap!
she clicked her knobby fingers—“next thing you know, you’re looking high and low for it.”

Bethany looked around the room. “I need three boxes,” she
told Ada. “One for things you want to keep, one for things you want to donate, one for things to discard.”

Twenty minutes later, Ada returned with four boxes. “I thought it might be wise if we leave one for things we can’t decide about. Just in case.”

All right, Bethany told her, and soon regretted it. One sister after another would mosey in and start weeding through the Donate and Discard pile and quietly move things into the Keep and Undecided boxes. By lunchtime, they had undone all the morning work Bethany had done.

Okay, this wasn’t working. She decided to take a break and eat her lunch on the front porch. It was a pleasant day and she couldn’t work with the sisters in the same room. Since there were five of them, they acted like slippery barn cats, oozing their way in and out of the living room, making off with something from the discard pile. When she finished her lunch, she went back inside and found Ada bent over the Undecided box, rooting through black sweaters. So many sweaters! All black.

“Maybe I’ll just go tidy up the kitchen,” Bethany said. Stick to the dishes, she decided.

Ada was thrilled by that suggestion which, Bethany knew, was because she worked too fast and made her nervous. Too many treasures ended up in the wrong boxes.

By day’s end, Bethany was exhausted. She stopped by the phone shanty to check messages—hoping there might be word about Mammi Vera from Rose. And maybe a word from Jake.

She tried her very best not to call Jake every single day. She knew, from reading chapter 13 in
A Young Woman’s Guide to Virtue
, that she should restrain herself. But each day, she found a reason or two to slip around the hard and fast rules
of the book
.
Today, she wanted to talk to him about her grandmother’s surgery, about losing her job at the Bar & Grill and taking the job at the Sisters’ House. She hoped he might feel disappointed that she had committed to a new job, even if it was part time and very casual. She hoped he had plans for the two of them. But, like always, he didn’t pick up. Before she thought twice, she left a message that she needed to talk to him and hung up.

As she was closing the door to the shanty, the phone rang. She lunged for the receiver. “Hello?”

“Bethany! Did you find the books?”

Not even a howdy. “No.”

“You said you needed to talk to me. I thought it was about the books.”

“I do need to talk to you, but I haven’t found them yet.”

“Are you looking?”

“Of course I’m looking! I’ve gone through the entire house, top to bottom. Mim mentioned that a lot of Mammi Vera’s junk was hauled out to the hayloft, so I’ll start there soon.” She shuddered to think of spending hours in the dusty hayloft. She hated mice with their beady little eyes and long skinny tails. Hated them. “I do have other obligations, I hope you know.” Like, a job with five certifiably crazy old ladies.

His voice softened. “I wish I could help. I’m sorry to leave this job to you.”

“So . . . why can’t you help?”

“Bethany—I told you. If your family were to see me, if Rose were to know about Tobe’s problem, it puts her in a terrible spot.” He let out a sigh. “Besides, I’m miles and miles away, looking for work.”

The discouragement in his voice made her feel a tweak of
guilt. It didn’t seem right to talk to him about her new job at the Sisters’ House when he had lost his job and couldn’t get hired anywhere else—all because of her father.

“Honey, what did you need me for, then?”

She loved it when he called her honey. “I . . . just wanted to hear your voice.”

“That’s sweet. I sure am missing you. As soon as you can find those books, I will hightail it back to Stoney Ridge. Once we get Tobe cleared . . . then . . .”

She held her breath.
Then what?

“. . . everything else will come together.”

She let out her breath.

“I need to get going. Bye for now, honey.”

For a long while, she stared at the receiver before she set it back in the cradle. She loved it when he called her honey. Loved it!

21

I
n every human heart, Rose thought, even the most forbidding, there was a place that could be touched. The difficulty was finding it; there were people who carefully concealed that place. Sometimes, though, their guard slipped for a moment or two, and the way to a heart lay open. She saw such a moment today. She thought of such things as miracles, though she knew Bishop Elmo would disagree. But to Rose, unexpected moments of healing and happiness pointed people to God. Wasn’t that a miracle?

That moment came when she saw Charles and Delia Stoltz talking to each other in the hospital corridor. Standing close, listening carefully to each other. They didn’t strike Rose as a couple who were heading to divorce court. They looked like they were finding their way back to each other.

Other unexpected miracles occurred today too. When Dr. Stoltz pronounced Vera ready to go home—four days after the surgery. Rose thought it might be a little premature, but it seemed the hospital staff was particularly eager to have Vera released—she was
that
bossy and critical.

Delia drove Rose and Vera back to Eagle Hill. They arrived
home to find the table set for dinner, the animals fed and tucked away for the night, the house tidied up, and a beautiful dinner waiting to be served. That felt like a miracle to Rose.

Rose tucked Vera straight into bed, promising her plenty of time for catch-up talks with the family in the days ahead. She tried to keep everyone quiet, but Vera said not to bother—that the sounds of family at the dinner table filled her with happiness. Soon, the house was a jumble of noise and confusion and joy. Another miracle!

Delia and Jimmy Fisher joined the family for supper. Rose sent Luke and Sammy over to invite Galen and Naomi and was disappointed when they declined. She wanted things to be as they were. Why couldn’t Galen understand that life wasn’t as simple for her as he made it out to be?

She was prideful, he told her.
Her!
That from a man who kept himself apart from others. Who only took on an apprentice because the deacon insisted. Well, if that’s how Galen wanted things to be between them—all stiff and stern—that was fine with her. Just fine.

During the meal, Rose looked around the table with overflowing gratitude. It had always done her heart good to watch people eat the food from her kitchen, especially her own family and friends. To some, it might seem like such an ordinary thing. To her, it felt like a healing balm. All would be well.

Miracle number five.