A Place of Peace (20 page)

“Of course. I want to see him too,” Miriam said.

“Give him my love, will you?” Edna asked. “My hands and knees are painful today.”

“Ya, we will,” Miriam said.

“When are you due back to work?” Edna asked.

“My boss instructed me to take two weeks off, so I have plenty of time here.” Miriam sipped the hot coffee. “I’d like to spend more time with everyone.”

“Gut.” Hannah squeezed her hand. “The
kinner
will be so excited to see you. Lena Joy told me she wanted to have another good long talk with you soon. She loves spending time with you.”

While her sisters updated her on the latest community news, Miriam savored her breakfast and contemplated their requests for her to stay. She couldn’t help wondering what had inspired Lilly to apologize and confess why she fabricated the lies. Was it Hannah’s influence or was it something more powerful and divine?

Was God telling Miriam she belonged here and not in Indiana?

When Miriam and her sisters arrived at the hospital, they found that their father had been moved out of ICU and into a regular room. He was resting in a reclined position.

His face brightened when Miriam and her sisters entered the room. With his eyes focused on Miriam, he extended his hand and beckoned her to the bed. “Mir-um,” he slurred her name in a hoarse whisper. “I … afraid I … dweamt y-y-y-our visit.”

“Ya, I was here. I came as soon as Hannah called me.” She took his hand and blinked back tears.

Her father looked so exhausted and so old. The stroke had taken a toll on his body. She’d never remembered him looking so pale and frail. All her life, she envisioned her father as a strong-willed, healthy man. But now he looked like a sad, ill, old man.

“Y-you acceft my ‘pology?” he whispered, stumbling over the words.

“Ya,” she said. “You just rest. I’ll be here a while.”

“Will you s-s-stay?” he asked, his tired eyes hopeful. “I … n-need …” He paused, his expression straining for the words. “Your
mamm
gone now … I need fa-fa-mil-y.”

Miriam bit her bottom lip and contemplated his words. How ironic that her family had gone from ignoring her to begging her to stay in less than a month. “Let me think about it, okay? I’m not sure where I belong right now.”

“You belong here,” Hannah said, placing a hand on Miriam’s shoulder. “You belong where everyone loves you, and we love you.”

But Timothy loves someone else. How can I bear that?

Miriam ignored her threatening tears.
“Danki,”
she whispered.

Lilly and Hannah sat in chairs across from her father’s bed, and Miriam sat next to the bed, holding her father’s hand until he let go.

While Hannah shared a story of Ian and Mary pushing each other down into the mud, Miriam mulled over the idea of moving back. She wished she had the right answer. Did she belong in Pennsylvania or in Indiana?

She was considering the question when the sound of snoring brought her back to the present. She glanced over at Abraham and found him fast asleep. His face was relaxed and content, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Footsteps drew Miriam’s attention to the doorway, where a man in a white coat stood with a clipboard. He motioned for Miriam and her sisters to follow him to the hallway.

“I’m Dr. Fulton,” he said. “I’ve been following your father’s case.”

Hannah introduced herself, Lilly, and Miriam to the doctor. “How’s he doing?” she asked.

The doctor hugged the clipboard to his chest. “It was a fairly serious stroke, but I think he’s going to do well. I plan to move him to a rehabilitation facility later this week, where he’ll learn to walk again. Unfortunately, he has some paralysis in his right arm and leg.”

Tears filled Lilly’s eyes. “He’s paralyzed?”

“Yes, but he’ll learn to function after he spends some time in rehab. The therapists there will teach him how to dress and feed himself. He’ll do just fine.” The doctor examined the chart. “Does Mr. Lapp live alone?” he asked.

“No, I live with him, along with my brother,” Lilly said, wiping her eyes.

“Good. I don’t think it would be a good idea for him to be alone,” the doctor said.

“Does he have to go to rehab? Can’t we have someone come to the house?” Hannah asked.

“It would be best if he stayed in the facility in order for him to have around-the-clock care from health professionals.

He’ll be there for about a month.” Dr. Fulton glanced between Miriam and her sisters. “Do you have any more questions?”

Miriam and her sisters shook their heads.

“Your dad will be just fine. It will take him a little while to get back on his feet. Just have patience with him.” Dr. Fulton then stepped into the hospital room to see Abraham.

“Should we go down to the cafeteria and get something to drink?” Miriam offered. “Maybe it will do us some good to walk a little bit.”

“That’s a
gut
idea.” Hannah looped her arm around Lilly, who was still sniffing back tears.

They walked in silence to the cafeteria, where Miriam bought each of them a soda. They sat at a corner table and drank in silence.

“I can’t believe he’s paralyzed,” Hannah finally said. “I thought he was strong as an ox.”

Miriam nodded. “I did too. It’s amazing how life can change in the blink of an eye.”

“Ya,” Lilly said.
“Mamm’s
gone,
Daed
had a stroke, and the summer isn’t over yet.”

“But we still have each other. We have our family.” Hannah squeezed their hands. “Family is what matters most.”

Lilly looked at Miriam. “I’m so glad to have my sisters and brother.”

Miriam smiled, wondering what Hannah could’ve said to Abraham and Lilly to get them to change their minds about her.

“Gerald said he would visit this afternoon,” Lilly continued. “We can head back home soon.”

“How long do you think
Daed
will be in rehab?”

Miriam sipped her drink. “Didn’t the doctor say a month?”

“Ya,” Hannah said. “I believe that was it.”

“We can take turns going to visit him.” Lilly ran her fingers over the condensation on the cup. “I’ll care for him when he comes home. I’m making quilts for Naomi’s
mamm’s
business, so that’s no problem.”

Miriam’s stomach dropped at the mention of Naomi’s name. Soon Naomi King would be Naomi Kauffman, and that thought made Miriam ill.

“You don’t need to shoulder all of the work when he’s home,” Hannah said. “We can take turns with him. I’m sure other friends and relatives will visit with him and check on him too.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Miriam said. “I’ll help out as much as I can.”

“So, have you thought about coming back here for good?” Lilly asked.

“Lilly, she hasn’t had much time to consider it,” Hannah chided. “It’s not the kind of decision you make in a few hours.”

“I’m still thinking,” Miriam said.

“You should make a list of pros and cons,” Lilly said while fiddling with the straw in her Styrofoam cup. “That’s what I do when I have a really serious decision to make.”

Miriam nodded. “That’s a really smart idea.”

Lilly shrugged. “Sometimes I have good ideas.”

“We better get back to check on him,” Miriam said, standing. “He may wake up and think we abandoned him.”

As they headed back to her father’s room, Miriam couldn’t help but think how wonderful it felt to be a part of the Lapp family once again.

Later that evening, Miriam sat at the kitchen table and wrote on a notepad by the light of the lantern. At the top of the page, she scrawled “Reasons to stay in Gordonville.” In one column, she wrote “Pros” and in the other “Cons.”

Gnawing on the end of her pen, she considered the pros and then began to make a list:

She rubbed her neck with her hand for a moment and then crafted her con list:

“What have you got there, Miriam?” Edna asked, causing Miriam to jump with a start.

“Aenti,”
Miriam said. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry. I guess I snuck out of the bathroom.” Edna leaned over Miriam’s shoulder and read the list. “Hmm. Looks to me like the pros outweigh the cons.”

“You think so?” Miriam asked.

Edna lowered herself into the chair next to her.
“Ya,
I do. I think in your heart your family matters most. From what you’ve told me, moving to Indiana was the hardest thing you had to do because you had to say good-bye to your family. Now your
daed
and your hurtful younger sister have realized the error of their ways, and they want you back in their lives. That’s what you’ve always wanted. Honestly, I don’t see what’s holding you back from letting them welcome you into their lives again.”

Miriam bit her lower lip and stared at the list.

“It’s Timothy Kauffman, isn’t it?” Edna’s smile was sympathetic. “You love him, and seeing him marry someone else will truly be painful for you.”

“
Ya.
” Miriam sniffed.

“He’s not married yet, Miriam.”

“Aenti,
you know as well as I do that a proposal is as strong a promise as the wedding vows in our community.”

“They haven’t taken their vows yet. If you tell him how you feel …”

“I can’t do that.” Miriam shook her head. “I can’t do that to Naomi. She’s good friends with Lilly. Besides, Timothy made his choice.”

Edna shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Miriam glanced down at the list. “I just don’t know what the right choice is. How will I know if I’m making the right decision?”

“Pray about it,” Edna said. “He’ll tell you.”

“Right.” She stared down at the list again. It seemed as if the answer was right there before her, but she couldn’t see it.

Edna stood.
“Gut nacht.
I’ll see you in the morning.” She then began to shuffle toward the bedroom.

Watching her aunt walk slowly and with so much effort suddenly made the answer crystal clear: Miriam was needed right here.

“Aenti,”
she said.

“Ya?”
Edna faced her.

“I’m going to stay.” She sat up straighter, confident in her decision. “I’m going to meet with the bishop tomorrow and see about being baptized into the faith.”

“Oh, Miriam!” Edna sidled up to her and hugged her. “Did you know that the baptism is going to be held at your father’s house? Abraham is hosting the baptism service that Sunday in October.”

Miriam gasped. “It’s a sign from God.”

“
Ya.
” Edna cupped her hand to Miriam’s cheek. “I believe it is.”

“I know I’ve missed most of the pre-baptism classes this summer, but maybe the bishop will make a special exception for me since we’ve lost our
mamm
and
daed
is ill. I can explain that I want to do it as soon as possible so that my
daed
knows I did it while he’s still here with us.”

“I’m so, so thankful to hear this,” Edna said.

“Me too.” Miriam smiled. She knew in her heart that this was the right choice.

M
iriam sucked in a deep breath and parked her car by the barn behind Bishop Gideon Swartzendruber’s farm the following morning. She’d practiced her speech several times during the ride over, but the words had somehow evaporated from her head as soon as she halted her car. This would be a difficult conversation at best. In Miriam’s church district, baptisms were performed once every other year before the fall communion service in order to allow the newly baptized to commune with the rest of the church members. Communion was held twice per year—in October and April—as a special daylong service.

Most Amish youth were baptized between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one; however, sometimes community members chose to experience the
English
world before joining, as Miriam had. Instruction sessions were held during the first thirty minutes of church services over the summer months, during which the class members met with the ministers while the rest of the church members sang hymns. The ministers and bishop reviewed the eighteen articles of the Dordrecht Confession of Faith and emphasized aspects of the
Ordnung.
Four years ago, Miriam had completed the classes and then changed her mind a few days before the baptism. She’d left without consequence since she was never baptized.

The classes were required with rare exception, and Miriam knew she’d missed a good part of them. Therefore, she had to convince the bishop to allow her to make up what she’d missed so that her father could see her baptized as soon as possible.

Miriam’s heart thumped in her chest as she yanked the keys from the ignition and climbed from the small sedan. Dressed in the plain black frock, black cape, and apron, she hoped she looked presentable for her impromptu meeting with the bishop. She touched her prayer
kapp
to make certain it was straight.

Rallying her courage, she approached the back door of the house, hoping the bishop was home. Since he ran a dairy farm and also grew crops, she assumed he had plenty to keep him busy at the house.

She knocked on the back door and then waited. A few minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing the bishop, his brow knitted together in confusion.

“Miriam Lapp?” he asked.

“Gude mariye,”
she said, plastering a smile on her nervous lips. “I was hoping to speak with you a few moments.”

“
Ya.
” He stepped out onto the porch. “I heard your
daed
has taken ill.”

“He had a stroke.” Miriam absently fingered her apron. “He’s in Lancaster General now but is going to be moved to a rehabilitation facility in a few days. One of his arms and a leg are paralyzed.”

The bishop folded his arms across his broad chest. “I’m sorry to hear it. I’ll go visit him later. Some of the women in the district are putting together meals for your family and will deliver them today. Let us know how else we can help.”