An Uncommon Grace (14 page)

“Well, it definitely looks like you guys are enjoying yourselves,” Grace said.

“Tremendously,” Elizabeth said. “At the moment, I am testing a theory that the demise of our civilization rests firmly on the shoulders of Bugs Bunny.”

Grace noticed that the knitting Grandma had been working on was lying in a heap beside her.

“How’s the knitting going?”

Grandma held up the tangle of yarn for her to admire. It was the most misshapen piece of knitting Grace had ever seen.

“What’s it supposed to be?”

“A sweater for you, dear.” Grandma sounded hurt. “Can’t you tell? Don’t you like it?”

Becky spluttered with laughter. “Don’t let her mess with you. It was supposed to be an afghan, but she’s given up on it.”

Grace was relieved. “You had me scared there for a minute.”

Elizabeth sighed and tossed the offending knitting into the corner of the couch. “I think I’m going to stick with crossword puzzles from now on.”

Becky swallowed the last bite of the energy bar. “How was your run? You’ve been gone a long time.”

“I was at the Shetlers’,” Grace said. “That baby is having some issues I want to check on this morning. After I’ve done what I can for him, I think I’ll go stock up on food for the week.”

“Could you pick up some movie DVDs?” Becky said. “TV with Grandma is getting a little old.”

“Preferably something with Cary Grant,” Grandma said, “or Fred Astaire.” She held one hand up to her mouth and whispered loudly, “Becky’s taste in movies is a little odd.”

Becky rolled her eyes.

“I’ll try to find something you both can enjoy,” Grace said.

After a short shower and clean clothes, Grace came back downstairs and found Grandma taking a midmorning rest in her room and Becky in the kitchen, coaxing the kitten to drink some milk. She was lying on her stomach with her chin resting on her fists, verbally encouraging the tiny thing to take laps with its pink tongue.

Becky looked up at her. “I think Tabby is going to be okay.”

Just then Becky’s cell phone buzzed with a text message. She sat up and read it and her face grew pale. She stared down at the phone as though she were holding a snake coiled to strike.

“What’s wrong?” Grace asked.

Her sister shot her a fearful glance, cleared the screen, and nonchalantly slipped the phone into her pants pocket. “Nothing.”

“What kind of a text did you get? You looked like you saw a ghost.”

“Just one of my friends telling me that we have a big test Monday.”

Grace was unconvinced. Becky was a good student. She would not be that upset at the idea of an unexpected test, especially since this was only Saturday morning and she would have two days to prepare for it.

It had to be something else. The problem was—what? Something told her that she wouldn’t find out by prying. Whatever it was, perhaps Becky would eventually confide in her.

In the meantime, she had a sick baby to take care of.

After checking some sites on the Internet, she called Karen at the ER to confer about Daniel’s problem. Karen, a mother of three, validated her suspicions and told her about a store in Berlin that carried slings for babies.

She was just fishing her keys out of the yellow soup tureen that had replaced the kneading bowl when her grandmother came into the kitchen.

Grace noticed that Elizabeth was walking without her cane today, and doing a good job of it. “You’re doing better, Grandma.”

“I have a good nurse. Are you leaving again already?”

“Do you mind?”

“Oh, I don’t mind—I just wish I could tag along. Where are you headed?”

“Berlin, to pick up something for Claire and Daniel.”

“Could I come with you?”

Grace considered. A short drive might do her some good.

“I don’t see why not.”

“The last time I was in Berlin at the German Village, Schloneger’s was selling a home-cranked sugarless ice cream that was out of this world.”

“But you aren’t diabetic.”

“Maybe not, but I do watch my figure.”

“You just finished off that pound of Coblentz chocolate I bought you.”

“Some things”—Elizabeth sighed in frustration at her granddaughter’s ignorance—“are just worth the calories, Grace.”

“So, you’re telling me you want to go get some ice cream.”

Grandma cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think I’ve been telling you? Just let me go put my face on.”

“I don’t think we have time for you to put on makeup. I really need to get back to the Shetlers’ as soon as I can.”

“Well, then, do you mind if an old woman puts on her shoes?”

“Go put your shoes on, Grandma. I’ll wait.”

Becky had listened to the entire conversation while lying on the floor. “You don’t have to say a thing, Grace. Ouch!” Becky extricated the kitten from her shoulder where it climbed with its tiny claws. “It looks like I’ll be the one getting the groceries today.”

“Do you mind?”

“No. You’re the one taking Grandma out for ice cream.”

“I’m all ready!”
Their grandmother came out of the bedroom wearing a new lavender sweatsuit and a slash of red lipstick.

She had forgotten her shoes.

“What are you girls looking at?” She glanced down at her feet. “Oh, shoot.”

“T
hat’s my car,” Grandma said.

“Where?”

“There.” Grandma pointed with her plastic ice cream spoon.

They were passing Troyer’s Country Store and Grandma’s car, the blue Honda that Becky had been driving this past month, was parked in front.

And then Grace saw something that caused her to do a sudden, illegal U-turn. Becky was in the car, and a man had his head and shoulders pushed through her open window. As Grace pulled in beside them, she could see that Becky was leaning as far away from him as she could get without climbing into the passenger seat.

“What’s going on?” Grace jumped out of the car and slammed the door.

The man jerked his head out of the car, bumping it on the way out. He rubbed the spot he had hit and scowled at her.

“What do you want?” His voice sounded raspy, like that of a three-pack-a-day smoker.

“I’m her sister. A better question is who are
you
?”

Becky hurriedly got out of the car and Grace saw that she was trembling.

“This is, um, Mr. Franklin, a janitor at my school.”

Mr. Franklin appeared to have lived a hard life. There were deep creases in his face, and his expression was more wary than a man with a clear conscience should have. He had a receding hairline and his hair was pulled back into a long, thin ponytail. Grace wondered exactly what school official had chosen him to be around students.

“Is there something we can help you with, Mr. Franklin?” Grace asked.

Becky and the man glanced at each other as though sharing a secret.

“He was just telling me about a teachers’ in-service on Tuesday,” Becky said. “We won’t be having any school.”

“Thank you, Mr. Franklin,” Grace said. “I’m sure my sister appreciates your concern. Have you finished getting groceries, Becky?”

“No. I still need to go to Walmart.”

“Me, too.” She glanced at the man. “I’ll follow you there.”

The man stalked off.

The whole scenario bothered her. Becky had been recoiling from the man even before she knew Grace was watching, then had climbed out of the car and more or less jumped to his defense.

“What’s going on, Becky?” she asked.

“I already told you.” Her sister studied her feet. “He’s just a janitor at my school.”

Well, who knew? Maybe Becky was telling the truth. Grace had never known her sister to lie. She got back into her car and followed Becky to Walmart, where she really did have a couple of purchases to make. On the way, she repeated the exchange with Becky to her grandmother.

“I know it looks a little odd,” Elizabeth said, “but Becky’s a pretty good judge of character.”

“But what if this is some sleazy guy she met on the Internet? She’s only seventeen—just the right age to think she knows everything—when she doesn’t.”

“The exact same age you were when you signed up for the military.”

“I thought I was all grown up.”

Grandma scraped the last bit of vanilla ice cream out of her Styrofoam cup. “So does Becky.”

Grace found Rose pacing the floor with the baby arching its back, crying. Claire lay on her side in her bed with her eyes closed. Three other Amish women dressed in somber-colored dresses were busy in the kitchen but did not introduce themselves. Since it was not a social call, neither did Grace.

“Has he kept anything down in the time I was gone?”

“No.” Rose jiggled the baby up and down. She had faced him outward, one arm tight around his stomach, the other arm beneath his bottom. “I’ve never seen a baby have colic this bad before. I’m very worried.”

“Don’t hold him like that, Rose.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t Levi tell you what I suspected?”

“No. He just said that you would be back soon and explain everything to us. He was anxious to get out to the fields.”

“Shift him to your shoulder, Rose. He needs to be held in an upright position as much as possible.”

“But this was the way my babies liked to be held.”

“Daniel has a special problem.” Grace explained what she knew to the two women and gave Rose the baby sling she had purchased.

“Make sure you hold him upright for at least thirty minutes after each feeding. Much longer than that if possible.
A carried baby cries less, and crying increases the reflux.”

Then she pulled out an infant sleeping wedge from a Walmart bag.

“I’ve never seen one of those before.” Claire was sitting up in bed now, fully engaged.

“It will let Daniel lie safely at an angle, which will help keep the contents of his stomach from flowing the wrong way.”

All three of the other Amish women wandered over to watch, speaking softly to one another in German. They handled the wedge and discussed it among themselves.

“Feed him smaller, more frequent meals.” Grace pulled a small box of rice cereal out of the bag, which she had also purchased. “And you could try giving him a little formula from time to time with a tiny amount of this in it—maybe a half teaspoon at most.”

“What do we owe you?” Claire asked.

“Consider it my baby gift,” Grace said.

“If this works,” Claire said, “I think you not only saved my life, you may have saved my sanity.”

“And mine,” Rose echoed.

“The good news is he should grow out of this when his little esophagus matures. The fact that you’re nursing him is a plus—it’s so much easier on his digestive tract.”

“You know all this but you have no children of your own?”

“Not unless you count Grandma,” Grace joked.

None of the women so much as cracked a smile. Evidently one didn’t joke about one’s grandparent in a Swartzentruber household.

“Would you like some pie?” Rose was now carrying Daniel in the sling, and he was already beginning to calm down. “People from Claire’s church have brought much food these past few days. We will not be able to eat it all.”

“I have to get back,” Grace said. “But thank you anyway.”

She had carried her medical basket in with her. Now she slung it over her shoulder as she started to leave.

“May I see that?” Claire asked.

“This?” Grace took it off and handed it to her.

“Beautiful work.” Claire turned it this way and that. “Who made it?”

“Levi.” Grace wondered if she had been unwise bringing it in with her. Would she get Levi into trouble?

Claire fingered it. “I thought it looked like his workmanship.”

“He gave it to me while you were still in the hospital.” Grace wondered if she had crossed yet another forbidden Amish line in the sand. “I wouldn’t take any money for driving him to the hospital. He said this gift was my payment.”

She felt Rose’s and Claire’s eyes boring into her.

“I told a nurse friend about it, and she wants one, too, now,” she added lamely.

Claire stroked the basket. “My Levi is a wonderful son,” she said. “I pray often that someday he will find a good Amish girl to marry.”

What did marriage have to do with a nurse’s basket? And was she imagining it, or had Claire just emphasized the phrase “Amish girl”?

“I’ll come by tomorrow to check on how you and Daniel are doing,” Grace promised.

It wasn’t until she was inside the car that she realized neither Rose nor Claire had said a word about wanting her to come back.

The home that Levi entered felt like a different world than the one he had left a few hours earlier. His mother was smiling
for the first time in days. Rose was bustling around the kitchen warming what appeared to be a stew for his noon meal. She, too, was smiling. But the biggest change was the fact that his baby brother was no longer crying. He lay peacefully sucking his thumb while lying beside his mother in her bed, upon what appeared to be a triangle-shaped pillow.

Levi could feel the tension of his neck and shoulders relax when he saw that all was well. Everything had changed since early this morning, and he was sure that Grace had helped bring about that change.

“The babe sleeps,” he said.

His mother looked up at him, her eyes soft with love. “Yes,” she said. “Little Daniel has eaten well and kept it down, thanks to the knowledge of our new neighbor. The poor babe was in terrible pain all along, and we didn’t know.”

Levi lifted the baby into his arms, careful to keep his tiny body tilted upward as Grace had said. He lifted his brother’s shirt and caressed the warm little belly with his fingertips. A smile curved his own lips as he thought how his brother resembled a small, satiated puppy. Having a new baby in a home was one of the nicest feelings in the world—if the babe was happy.

He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and cradled his little brother against his chest. “This new knowledge is a good thing.”

“Yes. Things should get better now,” Rose said. “Your new neighbor says she thinks he will soon outgrow this problem.”

“Grace Connor carries a very special basket,” his mother said.