Letters to Katie (24 page)

Johnny watched Katherine’s expression change from irritation to confusion to something
resembling terror. She turned her head away from him, revealing a thick, silken braid
of reddish-blond hair. His fingers longed to touch it. Instead, he maintained his
distance. He picked up the flowers off the floor and set them on the tray table near
her bed.

“How is your headache?”

“Not bad.”

“Still dizzy?”

“Nee.”

She averted her eyes and gripped the edge of the white blanket.

More than anything he wanted to put his arms around her, to tell her everything would
be all right. That he would make it all right. But he stood his ground, at least until
he knew how she felt about him.

Her eyebrows lifted and her clear blue eyes filled with confusion. “What are you doing
here, Johnny?”

“I came to check on you.”

“Why?”

“Because—” He looked down at her, his heart lurching. He couldn’t stand seeing her
lying in the hospital bed, pale as paste, the IV tube stuck in her arm. When she passed
out, he’d never been so afraid in his life. “Because I needed to see if you were okay.”

“
Mamm
says I fainted.”

“You don’t remember?”

She shook her head.

He pulled the chair closer and sat down. “What’s the last thing you recall?”

She frowned, looking toward the hospital window as if the answer were outside. Or
just beyond her reach. “I . . . I don’t know.”

“You don’t remember me coming over yesterday?”

“You did? Why did you come over?”

“To bring you your bag.”

“What bag?”

“The one you left at my
haus
.”

“Your
haus
? When did you buy a
haus
?”

“Almost three weeks ago.” He looked at her, confused. “You don’t remember that either?”

She dropped the edge of the blanket, shaking her head. “Johnny,” she whispered, “what’s
wrong with me?”

If she didn’t remember what happened at his house, he wondered if she remembered Isaac
asking her to the singing when they were all at Mary Yoder’s. But before he could
ask,
her mother burst into the room. She shot Johnny a scathing look. “Katherine needs
her rest.”

“Right.” He stood and looked down at Katherine. “We can talk about it later, once
you’re feeling better.”

“Johnny, I want to talk to you,”
Frau
Yoder said. “Out in the hall.”

It was a command, not a request. He nodded and felt himself withering under her gaze.
He’d suspected she was upset with him yesterday. Now he was certain of it.

A nurse entered the room carrying a folder, which she laid on the table next to the
scattered flowers. She moved to the opposite side of Katherine’s bed. “Nice to see
you awake,” she said. “How do you feel?”

Johnny didn’t move. Neither did Katherine’s mother.

“I have a bit of a headache.”

“You might have one on and off until you’re well again. Probably for a couple more
days.” She checked the clear IV bag hanging from the hook beside Katherine’s bed.
“Viral meningitis can be harsh. Do you still have neck pain?”

“No.” She glanced at Johnny, still looking puzzled.

“Then that’s a good sign.” She smiled as she placed her stethoscope against Katherine’s
chest. “The doctor will be in this afternoon to talk to you.”

“When can she go home?” Katherine’s mother asked.

The nurse hung the stethoscope around her neck. She lifted Katherine’s wrist, pressed
her thumb and finger to it, and looked at her watch. After a few seconds she let go,
patting Katherine’s hand. “I’m not sure, but she seems to be doing well. Hopefully
she’ll be discharged sometime tomorrow.”

“That’s great news, isn’t it, Katherine?” Her mother smiled.

“
Ya
. Great,” she said. She seemed distant, as if she were barely registering what everyone
was saying.

The nurse moved to the end of the bed. “Do you have any pain anywhere else?”

“
Nee
. Just my head.”

Johnny frowned. Why wasn’t she telling the nurse about her memory loss?

“On a scale of one to ten, what is the severity of the pain?”

“Four.”

“What was it before you passed out?”

Katie paused. “I—I don’t remember.”

The nurse paused to write something on Katherine’s chart. “I’ll let the doctor know.
Are you hungry?”

“A little bit.”

“I’ll order a tray.” She glanced over her shoulder at Johnny and Katherine’s mother,
then looked back at Katherine. “Do you want me to order something for your mom and
your boyfriend?”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.” She said the words so fast they came out in a blur. Johnny
glanced at her mother. The woman’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said. She held up her hands. “I shouldn’t have assumed.” She
looked at him and Katherine’s mom. “Would you like anything to eat? Or something to
drink?”

Johnny started to shake his head when her mother said, “Nothing for me, and he is
just leaving. Aren’t you?”

He felt pinned to the wall by
Frau
Yoder’s sharp gaze. “Yep. That’s me. Leaving now.”

“You can both stay,” the nurse said. “Visiting hours aren’t over yet.”

Katie’s mother narrowed her gaze at him before turning to the nurse. “Katherine should
be resting,
ya
?”

“Rest is best.”

“Then she doesn’t need any extra distractions.” Katherine’s
mamm
glanced at Johnny.

The nurse nodded. “I’ll check back with you in a little while.” She looked at Katherine’s
mother. “Like I said, you all are welcome to stay as long as you want. Don’t feel
like you have to rush out of here.”

Frau
Yoder nodded but didn’t say anything else. When the nurse left, she looked at Johnny.
“You’re leaving.”

He nodded and looked at Katherine. “I hope you feel better.”

“Danki.”
She still seemed dazed. He didn’t know anything about meningitis, but it had to be
serious, and he shouldn’t be surprised that she seemed a little out of it. Still,
the memory loss worried him. While he knew it was best for him to leave, especially
since her mother was shooting visual daggers at him, he really wanted to stay. He’d
spend the whole night by her bedside if he could.

Instead, he walked out the door,
Frau
Yoder close behind him. When they were both in the hallway, she shut the door. “Why
are you here?”

“I came to check on Kati—Katherine. I’m worried about her.”

“Oh, so now you’re starting to worry? After all these years of breaking her heart,
you’ve suddenly decided you care?”

Johnny flinched. He deserved those words.

“Katherine is very ill. She doesn’t need you confusing her. You’ve caused her enough
trouble.”

Guilt nearly crushed him. He couldn’t dispute
Frau
Yoder and had little to say in his own defense. “I’ve made some mistakes in the past.
Big ones.”

Frau
Yoder leaned forward, her eyes sparking with anger. “Yes, you have. Katherine is
moving on.”

“I want to make things up to her—”

“It’s too late for that.” She stepped away. “She doesn’t need you. At one time she
thought she did. Not anymore.”

A lump lodged in his throat. He nodded. “Okay.” His voice sounded as thick as syrup,
the single word clogging his throat. He’d leave for now. But he wouldn’t give up.
He respected
Frau
Yoder, yet he wanted to hear Katherine’s side. Only then would he accept that his
indecision and stupidity had cost him everything.

But one more thing needed to be said. “Katherine doesn’t remember.”

Her mother paused at the door of the room. “Remember what?”

“What happened before she fainted.”

Frau
Yoder spun around. “Did she hit her head when she fell?”

Johnny shook his head. “Not that I could see. I’m sure the doctor’s checked for a
concussion, though.”

“What else did she say?”

“Not much.” He paused. “We didn’t get much of a chance to talk.”

“Keep it that way.” She turned around and walked back into Katherine’s room. Johnny
winced as the door clicked shut.

“I’m glad you could join us for supper.”

Cora looked at the older woman across the table from her. “Thank you for the invitation.”
But she didn’t say it with much enthusiasm. She had only accepted because Sawyer insisted
that they go. They had talked again, arriving—as usual—at an impasse. At least inviting
her to supper with some of his friends was a little progress.

But she didn’t feel well tonight. Fatigue consumed her, and the unsteadiness was the
worst it had been. She walked slower to compensate, ignoring Sawyer’s quizzical looks
as he helped her in and out of the buggy. The ride had jolted her bones, and with
each car that whizzed past the buggy, her apprehension grew. She was a bundle of nerves
by the time they arrived at the Ottos’.

Now she wished she were back at the Bylers’. Or preferably home, in her own penthouse
surrounded by her own comforts, with her grandson at her side.

But apparently that was too much to ask.

She looked around the table, where serving dishes were piled high with enough food
to feed an army. None of it appealed. All she wanted was tea and toast. Possibly just
the tea. Yet it would be rude to refuse the food, and she wouldn’t toss etiquette
to the side. She did take the smallest of portions, however.

Emma placed the last plate of food, some kind of messy
casserole-looking thing, on the table. Cora glanced at Sawyer, who looked at the food
appreciatively. “Looks delicious, Emma.”

“
Danki
, Sawyer. I enjoyed making the meal.”

Cora frowned. From the size of the woman’s plump hips, Cora could see that she enjoyed
eating it too.

Her gaze traveled to Emma’s husband, Adam. He was handsome, but not as winsome as
her grandson, of course. Part of it had to do with the ridiculous bowl-shaped haircut
he wore, plus the beard with no mustache. What a strange sense of style these people
had!

But his appearance wasn’t what she noticed the most. She saw how his gaze followed
his wife as she moved around the kitchen, preparing and serving the food. His eyes
were filled with love.

It was the same kind of expression she’d seen in Sawyer’s eyes when he looked at Laura.

She held in a sigh. It wasn’t enough that Sawyer was bent on joining the church, whatever
that meant. He was also determined to settle down, marry a country girl, and have
a passel of kids. And at such a young age. What a waste of potential.

Emma finally sat down at the opposite end of the table from her husband. Sawyer sat
across from an empty chair, which she assumed had been Laura’s, while Cora sat on
the left side of Sawyer and across from Leona. It all seemed so quaint, so Norman
Rockwell.

She despised quaintness and had always thought Rockwell was a hack.

Everyone bowed their heads. Cora followed suit. The silent prayer. Praying to a silent
God. Or a nonexistent one.

Her own parents were never religious, and she had gone to church only a handful of
times in her life, mostly for weddings and the occasional Christmas service. She had
gotten along just fine without God. Her business had thrived without any spiritual
help.

She couldn’t say the same for the rest of her life. But that didn’t mean she needed
God.

“Cora?”

She looked up at the sound of Leona’s voice. She hadn’t even noticed the prayer was
over. Adam was already passing around bowls of food. When a big bowl of purple beet
salad was presented to Cora, she almost blanched.

“Would you like some tea?” Leona took the bowl of beets from her. “I have a special
blend I think you’ll enjoy.”

Tea sounded wonderful, but Cora was wary. Who knew what these people put into their
beverages? “I can’t imagine what would make it so special.”

“Grandmother—” Sawyer gave her a warning look.

“It’s all right, Sawyer.” Leona smiled. “Nothing wrong with being curious. It’s just
a mix of black tea with chamomile, rosemary, and lemongrass.”

Nothing she hadn’t heard of before. “A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you.” She
glanced at Sawyer, who seemed relieved by her conciliatory tone.

“I’ll get it for you.” Emma jumped up from the table and went to the cabinet nearest
the sink. The girl never seemed to sit still.

While Emma prepared the tea, Leona looked at Cora. “How long do you plan to stay in
Middlefield?”

“As long as it takes,” she muttered.

“Pardon me?”

“My plans are open.” Cora looked around the table for something that appeared appetizing,
but saw very little. She decided on a piece of bread, even though it was white. Didn’t
these people know how bad white flour was? As she watched Adam smother his thick slice
of meat loaf with gravy, she couldn’t figure out how he stayed so thin. Being married
to Emma would probably change that.

“Here you
geh
,” Emma said as she set the steaming hot tea in front of her.