A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 13

  Mike had thanked God, over and over, that he had been visiting Gran when the stroke happened. He was grateful for that, though it made him worry to think that she might have languished alone for hours … or even days.

  Which made him wonder: How would Gran manage alone after this?

  She wouldn’t. He rested his head in his hands and tried to swallow back the sorrow that rose inside him. Gran would probably lose her independence. She would probably have to move out of the historic old townhouse. Mike would be visiting her in an assisted care facility.

  It was the end of an era.

  Footsteps grew louder, and Mike sensed someone lingering in the doorway.

  “Mama?”

  Mike looked up to see his father enter the room, looking more like a concerned son than an experienced doctor himself.

  “Mama, it’s your son, Henry.” His eyes glistened with tears as he leaned close and took her hand in his. “Can you hear me?”

  “She’s out,” Mike said, rising from the upholstered chair. “I think they might have given her something to help her sleep. How are you doing, Dad?”

  “I got away as quickly as I could.” Henry Trueherz’s mouth puckered, and he released his mother’s hand and pressed a fist to his lips. “It’s a terrible feeling to be so many miles away, unable to help, and …” His voice broke off as a tear streaked down his cheek.

  Mike felt his lower jaw drop at the sight of his father losing control. This sort of emotion was not something he’d ever seen his father display.

  Letting him grieve in silence for a moment, Mike moved across to the bedside table, grabbed the box of tissues, and handed it to his father. Sometimes small acts were more meaningful than grand gestures.

  “I’m sorry, son.” Henry said, taking a few tissues from the box and wiping his eyes. “This is all so unexpected.”

  Mike put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “It’s hard when it happens to someone you love.”

  His father sniffed, nodding. “How’s she doing?”

  “They confirmed that she had a stroke, but the prognosis looks good, especially since she got immediate medical care. This is the drug they’re giving her to break up the blood clot. I wrote the name down, since it’s a mile long. They call it t-PA for short,” Mike continued, passing on the information the doctor had explained to him. “I know the doctor wants to meet with you. I’m sure he’ll explain everything all over again.”

  “I talked with Dr. Somers in his office. It sounds like you’ve got a good grasp of the situation, son. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you were with her this morning. That’s a divine intervention, if ever there was one.” He took a deep breath, calming himself. “Do you mind telling me what happened? I know you’ve probably been over the story countless times, but—”

  “No problem.” Mike pulled the second upholstered chair closer. “Have a seat, Dad.”

  He went over the story again, from seeing Gran upstairs in the hallway, where Mike had agreed to make breakfast, to finding her slumped on the kitchen floor thirty minutes later.

  “You handled everything well, Mike. Did your training with the Lancaster Rescue Squad come in handy?”

  “In some ways.” Mike was glad he’d known to call an ambulance, but even now when he closed his eyes he still saw the terrifying image of his grandmother slumped on the floor by the pantry. “It’s so different when the emergency involves your own family.”

  “That clinical detachment is there for a reason, I guess.” Henry dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “When it hits home like this, no amount of medical training can erase fear.”

  Mike was surprised to see that his father’s hands were shaking a little. The crisis had brought out a side of Henry Trueherz that Mike had never seen. To see his father cry, to see him so vulnerable, even grateful to Mike for being in the city, anyone would have been moved. Mike’s opinion of his father shifted as he felt the first glimmer of real compassion for him.

  “I should have seen this coming.” Henry straightened, his face pinched with concern as he gazed over at the elderly woman asleep in the bed. “Mom has always been fiercely independent and I’ve respected that, but in the back of my mind I was afraid something like this would happen. Even all those years ago when we moved out to Paradise, I hated leaving your grandmother alone here in the city. She was more spry back then, got around a lot better. Now …” He shook his head as the words trailed off.

  Leaning back in the chair, Mike steeled himself to be the strong one here. He had always relied on his father to know the right course of action, but Dad was in no shape to make decisions. His father needed him to be the clear thinker now. “The doctor said she would need therapy,” Mike recalled.

  “She will, and that will vary depending on the extent of the stroke damage. She might need physical, occupational, or speech therapy. We’ll need to hire an aide for her once she’s released from the hospital … unless she goes to a rehab facility.”

  “No …” The hoarse voice from the bed startled Mike. Gran’s eyes were open, and she seemed alert. “No nursing home.” Her voice lingered on the s sound.

  Instantly Mike and his dad were on their feet at Katherine’s bedside.

  “How are you, Mom?” Henry asked, touching her shoulder.

  “I was resting until I heard myself getting the bum’s rush.” Her words were more pronounced than they had been earlier that morning. “I’m not leaving my home.”

  “Mom, you might not be able to handle stairs for a while,” Henry pointed out. “And even simple tasks like making a sandwich or getting dressed might be difficult. You’re going to need to accept some help until you’re back on your feet.”

  “Not at a home,” she said vehemently. “Sending me out to pasture like an old horse.”

  Dr. Trueherz reached up to rub tension from one temple. “Mom, it’s not like that.”

  “I won’t be sent off to shrivel up in a corner and play bingo on Wednesdays. I have my garden club and the church and the neighborhood association. I’m the vice president, you know.”

  Watching Katherine stand up to her son, Mike saw yet another new light cast on Henry, who clearly was frustrated with his mother’s demands. “Dad, I know you want Gran to have the best care possible,” Mike intervened, “but can’t she get that at the townhouse? She has a lot going on in her life, and if she’s stuck in a facility, she’ll be bored to tears.”

  “You’re darn tooting,” Gran said.

  “But you can’t turn the house into a rehab facility,” Henry said, rubbing his chin. “And in-home care is expensive.”

  “I’ve got excellent health coverage,” Gran said.

  “And why can’t her house be a place for rehab?” Mike walked around the hospital bed as the idea gelled in his mind. “Making coffee in the kitchen could be occupational therapy. We could put a bed in the den so Gran wouldn’t have to go up and down the stairs. She can tend her plants in the back. I’ll help her hoist soil and water. With some help she can even host the neighborhood association.”

  “There you go, Henry.” Gran’s eyes flashed with quiet strength. “Mike will be my assistant.”

  “I don’t know.” Henry’s spine stiffened and his lips pursed in that authoritative stance that Mike had always associated with Dad the doctor. “We would have to bring in an aide … a physical therapist, too.…”

  “You can bring in anyone you like, Henry, as long as I can be in my home,” Gran said in her characteristically craggy voice. Then, with the decision settled, she closed her eyes and eased down into the pillow.

  “What do you think, son? You’re not even finished with exams yet.”

  “I just have a take-home final due next week, then I’m done,” Mike said as his mind reeled ahead. This meant he would need to move to Philadelphia sooner than planned; he’d be spending the summer here.

  “You’d have to give up your summer at home,” his father was saying.

  “That’s okay, Dad. I
can do it. I don’t mind.”

  His father clapped a hand on his back. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, son. You can see how much it means to your gran. I feel guilty that I can’t do more for her myself.”

  Again, there was a quick glimpse of the vulnerability his father so rarely revealed. Mike was about to respond when Gran cut in.

  “I still hear you. Don’t talk about me like I’ve lost my marbles.”

  Mike and his dad laughed softly, and for the first time in a long time, his father gave him a hug.

  FOURTEEN

  Sadie was deep into a dream where she was singing on a sandy beach, curling waves of water sparkling in the sun, just like she’d seen in books, when someone nudged her arm.

  “Wake up!” a voice whispered. “It’s Ruthie’s birthday.”

  Rolling over, Sadie sighed. “We need you to lead the clapping song,” the voice breathed in her ear.

  The clapping song … it was a birthday tradition their mamm had begun. On the morning of a child’s birthday, Mamm had gathered all the kids together to wake the birthday boy or girl with a rousing rendition of the song she had made up.

  Sadie opened her eyes to see Leah and Susie leaning over her. Mary and Simon stood behind them, and Katie and Sam were over at Ruthie’s bed, watching curiously.

  “Ruthie sleeping,” Katie said, and Sam pressed a finger to his lips to shush her.

  “I sent Simon to get Jonah and Adam,” Mary said. Her dark hair was pulled back and coiled into a long braid that hung down her back. “But kumm quick. Out of bed. You’re the song leader, Sadie.”

  Sadie threw back the sheet and popped up to her feet. She didn’t mind Mary’s bossiness when it came to the birthday tradition—especially for Ruthie, who enjoyed her birthday so! “I’m ready to go,” Sadie said, “as soon as those boys get here.”

  “She awake,” Katie pronounced from Ruthie’s bedside, and Sadie was sure she saw a hint of a dimple as Ruthie rolled away to face the window. Nowadays the older kids woke before the song could be sung, but it was fun to stay in bed, pretend to be asleep, and savor the attention.

  “Here,” Adam whispered, ducking into the room with one hand on Simon’s shoulder. Gabe and Jonah followed, keeping their heads bent so that they didn’t bump them on the dormered ceiling.

  “Kumm,” Mary ordered as they gathered around Ruthie’s bed.

  Sadie let her eyes roam over their faces, excited and giddy. The birthday song always brought out a bit of childish glee, even in the most serious person. With a deep breath, she started clapping, then sang:

  Rise and shine

  And give Gott your glory.

  Today is Ruthie’s birthday

  And this is her story.

  She was born this very day

  Just twelve years ago.

  We love her so, we hope and pray

  She’ll have a smile that lasts all day!

  As soon as the song started, a smile lit Ruthie’s heart-shaped face. Her amber eyes flew open, and she sat up to face her siblings, soaking up their love.

  Of course, the song needed to be repeated a few times for the fun of it, and before long Ruthie was out of bed, clapping along and bobbing her head in time.

  “Happy birthday, Ruthie!” Sam called when the singing stopped.

  “Denki.” She hugged him close, then went down the line and gave everyone a hug. “I’m so glad you remembered.”

  “How could we forget when you remind us over and again?” Jonah asked, giving her braid a playful tug.

  “I like to make the most of my birthday, and I just wanted to be sure you would remember that it was May twenty-second,” Ruthie said, bending down to give Katie a hug.

  When she came to Sadie, she squeezed her hand. “Gott gave you the voice of an angel. It’s a good thing, because someone strong has to lead the birthday song.”

  “You can count on me to take care of that,” Sadie said. The birthday song was a tradition etched deep in her heart, and with ten siblings, there was a birthday cropping up at least every few weeks.

  “Oh, but someday you’ll go off and start a family of your own,” Mary said. “Then Adam will need to lead the song.” She scowled up at their oldest brother. “Maybe Sadie can give you some lessons.”

  “I can sing,” Adam insisted.

  “In the shower,” Gabe added.

  Adam waved them off with good humor, but it made Sadie feel a bit wistful, imagining herself leaving her home, leaving someone else to lead the song for Katie and Sam, Simon and Ruthie. Her heart ached at the thought, but she knew it was true. She was eighteen and it was getting to be time to move ahead with her life … whatever that meant.

  “What kind of cake is Mary making you?” Sadie asked over the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the road. It was the late afternoon of Ruthie’s birthday, and the two girls were in the small buggy, headed toward the cemetery where their parents had been laid to rest.

  “Peanut butter cake with chocolate frosting, and I could smell it baking when we left.” In the afternoon sunlight, the long lashes outlining Ruthie’s amber eyes seemed incredibly dark. She had the eyes of a woman now, wise eyes, even though her manner and small body were still very girlish. “Thank you for my birthday present. This was just what I wanted.”

  “I would think the colored pastels from Mary would be more fun than a trip to the cemetery.”

  “But this is much more grown-up.” Ruthie scratched at her forehead then swiped back the downy wisps of hair that always sprang forth. Angel bangs, Mamm used to call them. “You only turn twelve once in your life, and it’s time for me to take on some new responsibilities, I think.”

  “Ya, but not on your birthday.” Ruthie’s other birthday gifts had been more traditional. A puzzle. A new Monopoly game with Disney characters. And a packet of soaps carved into animals from Remy. “I don’t mind at all, and I’ve been meaning to get out here, but this trip could bring you a touch of sadness.”

  “But I wanted to help you tidy up. You’ve been good about going and tending to their graves, and it’s time someone else came along.” That was Ruthie, caretaker to all. Her wise eyes had a soul to match, though she had just turned twelve. Sadie thought there was something deeper at play here, but she didn’t probe. Everyone was healing from the loss of Mamm and Dat in their own ways.

  “It shouldn’t take us long,” Sadie said. “I remembered to bring the weed whacker this time.” She gazed beyond the horse’s bobbing head to the patchwork of fields and gentle green hills surrounding them. Corn stood in short, neat rows to their left. To the right was a dairy farm where a group of cows sunned themselves, brown heaps in the grass. Small birds swooped, circled, then returned to their leafy tree homes, and here and there wildflowers added dots of color to the roadside. The season was at its peak, soon to give way to summer’s long, hot days. “If only springtime could be saved in a jar, the way we put up peaches and plums,” Sadie said absently.

  “Such a notion.” Ruthie smiled. “And then we could open the jar in the cold of winter and have a warm helping of spring.”

  “My favorite season,” Sadie said as they passed the sign to Paradise. It made her think of Mike, the doctor’s son. Was he still down the road in Paradise, helping his dat take care of people?

  Mike told her he had a double life. Until Mike said the words she had never heard of such a thing, but now she saw doubles in so many of her hopes and dreams. How she loved the country on a warm spring day like this, even as she wanted to be in the crazy noise and excitement of the city. How she loved her family and the patterns of their lives on the farm, but she also felt her spirit come alive when she was singing with the band.

  The thought of Mike leaving Lancaster County made her feel a little hollow inside. He wouldn’t be coming upon her on the road anymore, giving her a ride, letting her play the radio so very loud. Ever since that day, every time Sadie was scootering down the road she imagined that Mike would come along and drive her back to the ice
-cream parlor. But it wasn’t the ice cream she was so interested in; she wanted to see Mike again. Though she didn’t know him well, Sadie knew she could trust Mike. She wanted to be his friend, which wouldn’t be easy, him being an Englisher.

  Still, they could be secret friends in their double lives. Englisher and Amish. She smiled at that.

  At last they passed farmland that gave way to a scattering of small gravestones. The cemetery. Although more than a dozen cemeteries in Lancaster County were used by the Amish, this one was closest to their farm.

  Sadie shifted the reins to guide the horse into the cemetery. Most of the graves were covered only with grass and a simple stone marker. A large, fancy marker would be considered a foolish waste of money. And what was the point, when the real wealth of spirit and love would be in the world yet to come?

  Ruthie turned her head to take it all in. “It looked very different in the snow.” She hadn’t been here since the day of the funeral.

  It had been during a cold spell in February, more than a year ago, when they had buried their parents, Esther and Levi, here. Sadie had heard that the ground was so frozen that the men had to chop with special axes to dig the graves.

  A very cold winter that was, for the heart and soul.

  But now Mamm and Dat’s graves were covered with green grass, as if those two stones belonged there in the corner. It was Gott’s will, of course, but Gott’s will wasn’t always easy to accept. Like trying to chew and swallow pickled beets when you’ve got a fever, Sadie thought. It didn’t always go down so easily.

  Their buggy drew up to the edge of the cemetery and Sadie stopped the horse.