Her Restless Heart (14 page)

"Why?"

"Well, first, it won't be my
sister,"
he told her. "And who wouldn't want to be there together when your child is born?"

Her steps faltered, and he stopped, wondering if he'd said something too personal. She cleared her throat and looked around. "Where are we going?"

"We haven't eaten since breakfast. Neither of us got a snack at church. I thought we could have something to eat and then go back up and check on your mother."

He could see that she was torn but out of consideration to him agreed. As they walked down the line, she chose a salad, but he'd known her for years and knew what she liked, so he added a chicken salad sandwich to her tray.

"You don't know when you'll get a chance to eat again," he told her when she protested. He added a carton of milk to her tray at the drink station.

They sat at a small table in a corner of the cafeteria. The place was nearly empty. Two women in scrubs at a nearby table ate their meals silently, looking too tired to talk. A woman with a fussy toddler calmed him by scattering a breakfast cereal on her tray and letting him pick the rings up and stuff them into his mouth. She sipped from an extra-large cup of coffee and stifled a yawn.

"It's really nice of you to stay with us—"

"It's what a friend does," he said, waving away her thanks. "Besides, where else could I get a meal like this?"

She looked at the beef cubes and limp noodles on his plate and couldn't help laughing. "Yes, that's worth all your trouble."

"You are," he said quietly. "Now eat. You'll need to keep your strength up."

A slight noise woke Mary Katherine.

She blinked, not sure what had awakened her. Then she realized that her mother's eyes were open and she was looking around the room. Her head turned on the pillow, and she smiled weakly.

"Cold. What day is it?" she asked, shifting in her bed.

"Tuesday." Mary Katherine stood to unfold the extra blanket at the foot of the bed and spread it over her mother.

"So tired."

"I thought you'd never wake up," Mary Katherine said, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying. "You'd come to for a while and then go back to sleep." No matter what the nurses had said about this being normal post-surgery, Mary Katherine had worried.

Her mother patted her hand. "I'm
allrecht."

Mary Katherine saw her look around the room. "Why aren't you asking where
Dat
is?"

"I can't imagine he'd want to sit around here," her mother told her. But her tone held no censure.

"If we'd listened to him, you wouldn't be here," she blurted out, her hands clenching at her sides.

"Now, Mary Katherine—"

She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax her hands. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I don't want to get you upset."

"It's my own fault. I ignored how I was feeling. I knew something was wrong."

When she reached for the cup of water on the tray next to her bed, Mary Katherine moved quickly to help her.

"You can't blame him. He never gets sick, so he doesn't understand it when others do."

"Well, you're not going to be able to keep to that schedule he's so fond of when you get back home."

"We'll manage."

Mary Katherine didn't like how wan she looked. "Are you hungry?"

Her mother shook her head. "Just tired." She closed her eyes, then opened them. "Just so tired."

"Rest, then. I'll be right here."

"You should go home," her mother began.

She was fighting a losing battle to keep her eyes open. Mary Katherine watched as she lost the battle, and slept.

Sinking back down into the chair she'd occupied since her mother had been moved to a regular room, Mary Katherine felt exhaustion steal over her.

Something moved at the periphery of her vision. Her grandmother stood in the doorway, gesturing at her. Getting up, she tiptoed over to the door.

"How is she?"

"She woke up a little while ago, but then she went back to sleep."

Her grandmother held up a brown paper bag. "I brought you lunch." She threaded her arm through Mary Katherine's and pulled her out of the room. "
Kumm,
let's go sit outside and eat. You've been cooped up here for days."

They went outside on a small patio and sat at a table, but instead of taking the food from the bag, her grandmother reached across it and took Mary Katherine's hand.

"She's going to be fine,
liebschen,"
her grandmother said. "You need to come home and get some rest."

"I thought I was going to lose her," Mary Katherine said, tears welling in her eyes. "I feel so guilty. If I'd gone by to see her more often, I might have noticed that she wasn't well. But he—" she stopped.

"Your
dat
didn't make it easy, did he?" She sighed. "But Miriam has to take some of the blame, too. She never spoke up. She made excuses for him every time we talked. Even when she knew you were moving out, she wouldn't speak up and tell him she thought he was being too stern with you."

She shook her head. "He's the head of the house as a
mann
should be, but I don't believe that God ever meant for women to be treated the way he treats his wife and daughter. Your grandfather never behaved like that at all."

"'Browbeaten,'" Mary Katherine said. "Jamie used that word when we talked about our fathers sometime back."

Leah sighed, picked up the bag, and started withdrawing items. "You see, it's not just Amish fathers who can be too stern with their daughters. Jamie has told you that her father is the same way. If I'd told you that
Englisch
fathers did this, you might never have believed me."

"I always believe you," Mary Katherine told her staunchly.

"Then you will believe what I tell you next," she said, meeting her granddaughter's eyes. "You know what you need to do."

Mary Katherine rested her elbows on the table and put her forehead in her hands. "Yes."

Leah patted her back. "It's the right thing to do. 'Honor thy father and mother, which is the first commandment with promise.' "

She handed Mary Katherine a paper-wrapped sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a can of her favorite soda. When she pulled out a cookie the size of a saucer, Mary Katherine couldn't help laughing.

"You even brought the big chocolate chip cookie," she said, shaking her head.

"I was prepared to bribe you," her grandmother told her, reaching over to hug her. "I didn't think it'd take the big cookie, but I wasn't taking any chances. Shall we bless our food?"

Mary Katherine looked at the spread that her grandmother had brought to her, remembering the things she loved. She thought about how her grandmother had brought up a difficult subject but had not tried to lecture her or tell her what she should do. And she felt regret.

"I haven't thought much about how you feel," she said, her eyes welling with tears again. "I thought about losing my
mamm,
but it would be even more awful if you lost a child."

Leah patted her hand. "You thought of your mother and that's as it should be. I'm fine."

"I'm missing work—"

"You're not to think of that," she said quickly. "Naomi and Anna are covering for you and everything is going well."

"The doctor says he thinks
Mamm
can go home soon," Mary Katherine said as she unwrapped her sandwich. "I'm not looking forward to moving back in, but it'll just be for a short time."

When her grandmother made a slight movement of distress, Mary Katherine's heart sank. Sure enough, when she looked up, she saw her father's stiff back as he turned and walked away.

"He heard me," she whispered.

Her grandmother nodded. "I'd have told you if I'd seen him in time." She sighed. "Well, they say that eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves. Why don't you go talk to him, and I'll wait for you?"

Mary Katherine wrapped up her sandwich and got up. With feet that felt like lead, she went to find him.

To her surprise, her father wasn't in her mother's room.

"I sent him out to see you and
Mamm,"
Miriam told her. "Did you miss him?"

Mary Katherine nodded but decided her mother didn't need any details.

"Maybe you can catch him. He was just here a few minutes ago."

"We'll see each other tomorrow."

Miriam straightened her covers. "I can't wait to get home. It'll be good to sleep in my own bed, see my garden."

"You can't work in it for a while."

"Everything will die if it's not tended," Miriam said, her fingers becoming agitated on the covers. "I need to water the plants and—"

"I'll take care of it until you can."

"But you work and you live—"

"I'm going to come and stay with you for a while until you feel better."

Relief swept across her mother's face but was just as swiftly gone. "Oh, how can you do that? You and your
dat
don't get along . . ." she trailed off, looking worried.

"We'll manage." Mary Katherine didn't know how, but that was her concern, her problem.

"Listen, I'm going to go back out and finish my lunch with Grandmother. Do you need anything before I go?"

Miriam shook her head. "Would you mind if I said I want to take a nap? I'm feeling really tired."

"It's time you said what you need," Mary Katherine told her. She leaned down and kissed her mother's cheek. "Maybe I'll go back to the shop with
Grossmudder
for a few hours and see you later this afternoon?"

"Tomorrow," Miriam said with more firmness. "Tell
Mamm
I said I'll see you both tomorrow when I get to go home."

"Bossy lady," she teased. "Sweet dreams."

It felt so good to be back at the shop. Mary Katherine walked into the space filled with brightly colored fabrics and crafts and just stood for a moment, absorbing it.

Naomi and Anna rushed at her, hugging her and asking rapid-fire questions about her mother.

She absorbed their love and their chatter, so grateful for their warmth and concern.

"I'm fine, and
Mamm's
doing better and getting out tomorrow," she said, answering their first two questions. She pulled off her coat and headed for the back room to hang it and her purse up.

Then she turned back to Naomi and Anna. "And I'm going to move back into my parents' house for a while."

She heard disbelieving squeaks out of her cousins.

"Grandmother! You can't let her do this!" Anna wailed.

Leah walked into the room and hung up her things. "She needs to take care of her mother. You'd do the same if it was your mother."

"But it means she has to be around her father again!" Anna shivered.

Secretly, Mary Katherine agreed. But what could she do? The only way she could care for her mother was to be in her house, and that was where her father lived . . .

"It'll be all right," she said, trying to convince herself. "It's only for a short time."

They shared their afternoon cup of tea, the "Back in 10 Minutes" sign on the locked front door of the shop guaranteeing an uninterrupted break. It was a welcome one after the last few days of tension at the hospital.