Seasons of Tomorrow (43 page)

Phoebe’s yet-unnamed little one was a fighter. The doctors were pleased with the improvements he was making.

Thankfully, Jacob had returned to Maine unexpectedly early, allowing Samuel and Rhoda to come to the hospital. Crist and Iva were there too, although Iva was staying with the bishop and his wife while Samuel and Rhoda were away. But those three would work the orchard and tend to the livestock and dogs. Jojo would cook for them and run any errands necessary for now, but she was thinking of moving in with Bob and Camilla, at least for a few months until she could get on her feet again.

Rhoda had caught a glimpse of the future for Bob, Camilla, Jojo, and Sophia. Jojo and Camilla would slowly and steadily grow closer. Camilla would get to be the mom she’d never been to her own son, and Jojo would have the mother figure she’d always longed for.

Steven strode into the room with Phoebe’s parents. “I thought you’d be here.” He hugged Rhoda. “It’s almost time for them to bring her out of the coma. Her parents don’t want to be in there.”

Rhoda looked at Phoebe’s Mamm. The woman wiped her eyes. “I can’t watch anymore. She’s struggling to breathe, and the doctor said when they cut the ventilator off and on to wean her from it, she’ll struggle harder for a day or two before it gets easier.”

Rhoda hugged her as the woman cried. “You’ve been watching those grandbabies. She’ll be so grateful for that, so don’t feel guilty over needing to come away while she wakes.”

“Denki.” The woman straightened.

“I’m going to take Samuel and Rhoda back now. Once Phoebe is awake and understands what happened to her, we’ll swap who spends time with her, for those who want to go in. But it may be hours before she feels oriented, okay?”

The others nodded, and Steven ushered Rhoda and Samuel down the hall.

Rhoda’s shoes squeaked against the tile floor. “Will they allow three of us in there?” The last time they were here, the staff preferred that only one person at a time be there, but they didn’t question two.

“They’ll allow four of us right now, at least for a few hours if not all day.”

Rhoda tried to keep up with the men’s long strides. “Four?”

“Landon is with her.”

Rhoda grabbed her brother’s arm, slowing him a bit. “He’s in there while Amish friends and family are waiting for time with her?”

“A lot of people go in for their own comfort, but as odd as it may sound, Landon is the one I draw comfort from. We need to—”

Before Steven could finish his sentence, a nurse approached, talking while falling into step with him. “The doctor is by her side, and Phoebe is starting to rouse. Remember what we said: she’s heavily sedated and won’t be able to talk with the trach still in.”

“When will they remove the trach?”

“The tube will be detached soon, but the trach will remain for several weeks. That way if anything goes wrong and she needs oxygen again, it’s in place. She’ll have day surgery, possibly at a doctor’s office, when it’s time to remove it.” She clicked her pen. “Remember, she’ll look different as she wakes.”

“I’ve been told this numerous times. Is there a reason?”

The nurse stepped in front of Steven, blocking the door. “There is. You’ve seen her peaceful for months. You need to be braced for what you may see today. If bringing her around the first time goes badly—if she suffers a seizure or uncontrollable panic—we’ll have to put her under and then try again in an hour or so. That pattern may be repeated a few times, possibly over a two-day period. Okay?”

Steven’s eyes misted. “Thank you for caring.”

The nurse smiled, shoving an ink pen into her pocket. “Let’s do this.”

A doctor stood at the head of the bed, a tiny flashlight in hand as he forced one of Phoebe’s eyes open and flashed the light off and on.

Landon stood, and Rhoda went to him. “Hi.”

Without a hint of reluctance, Landon embraced her and then shook hands with Samuel. Wasn’t he even a little angry with them? Oh, how good it felt to see her friend again.

“Phoebe, can you hear me?” the doctor called. “Phoebe, can you lift a finger for me?” When Phoebe didn’t budge, the doctor turned to Steven. “We may have to let more of the sedatives wear off. We gave her a good dose of tranquilizers before bringing her out of the coma. You try.”

Steven took Phoebe by the hand. “Phoebe. Sweetheart. Can you hear me?” Steven stroked her head. “It’s time to wake. Rhoda’s here. And Samuel. And Landon.”

Phoebe turned her head toward her husband’s voice, her eyes closed and body unmoving. Steven jerked air into his lungs. “That’s it, sweetie.” Tears choked him. “It’s time to wake.”

Her hands moved to her stomach, and her brows knitted tightly.

“You had the baby. We have a beautiful son.”

Rhoda moved near the doctor. “Can they bring the baby to her?”

He shook his head. “Neonatal babies don’t leave NICU. When Phoebe is well enough, she can go to him.”

“Did you hear that?” Rhoda picked up Phoebe’s other hand. “When you’re better in …” She looked to the doctor.

He shoved the little flashlight into the lapel pocket of his lab coat. “Probably in three to six days.”

“Ah. You’ll get to hold your little one in less than a week.” Rhoda squeezed her hand. “That’s not long at all, and then you’ll get a lifetime with him, ya?”

Phoebe seemed pleased, and a tear slid down her cheek, but she’d yet to open her eyes. She moved her hands a bit and shrugged, apparently asking what she could not voice.

Rhoda caressed her hand. “You got real sick. Remember?” She recounted the incident as Phoebe woke and then slept, woke and then slept. The four of them—Steven, Samuel, Landon, and herself—took turns explaining the same information, and by the time the hour was up, Phoebe opened her eyes.

Her gaze centered on her husband, studying his eyes before she smiled. If a picture was worth a thousand words, that moment was worth a million. She seemed to understand that she was safe, the baby was healthy, and her husband had lived a nightmare but he adored her.

Phoebe fell asleep again, and Rhoda felt free to ask questions. “What’s next?”

“It’ll take several days,” Steven answered, though he never took his eyes from his wife. “Maybe even a week to wean her off the ventilator. When she’s free of it, it shouldn’t take long for the bacterial infection in her lungs to clear up. Even after she’s released, she’ll need months of physical therapy to regain muscle coordination and full brain activity.”

“Will you stay with Mamm and Daed during that time?”

“Much of that is up to Phoebe. If she wants to stay in Pennsylvania near our parents and hers, that’s what we’ll do.”

From her chair beside the bed, Rhoda reached through the rail and
rubbed Phoebe’s arm. “I hope she wants to return to Maine when she’s better.”

“It might be necessary to stay near the grandparents so they can wait on her and help with the children.” Steven put his hand over Rhoda’s. “Her fight isn’t over, but the battle has been won.”

His words brought peace, and Rhoda remembered fearing that someone else would be taken from her, as her little sister had been. And even though she didn’t want to imagine a future where Phoebe wasn’t with her every day—or Landon or Leah—she accepted that life changed. Whether a person did everything right or nothing right, life never stopped changing.

The only constant was God, who loved, forgave, and strengthened and was the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Relief continued to surge through Landon. Phoebe was out of the coma and was likely to leave the hospital in a week. As he sat in her room, chatting with Rhoda, Samuel, and Steven, he kept an eye on the clock. It’d soon be time to take his appointed turn to go to NICU and feed the baby.

He tried to enjoy the conversation, because it would probably be one of the last with all of them together. Phoebe was awake. The baby was thriving. Surely Steven would soon be ready for Landon to extract his English life from the Amish group.

What he’d like to do is tell Steven bye and slip out of the hospital. Of all the things Landon didn’t want to happen today, seeing Leah with Crist was at the very top of the list. “Steven, I should go.”

Steven glanced at the clock. “You have nearly twenty minutes before time to feed the baby.”

“Before what?” Rhoda seemed torn between awe and confusion.

“Ya.” Steven arched his back, stretching. “I figure the baby needs the most familiar voices feeding him, and Landon’s been here pretty often, so I talked him into it. Of course, if no one is there at feeding time, the nurses will feed him.”

Rhoda and Samuel glanced at each other, and Landon could only imagine what they must be thinking. They couldn’t afford for him to infiltrate their Amish lives again.

Steven looked more relaxed than he had in months. “I don’t know what I’d have done without Landon these last two months.” Steven chuckled. “Do you think there’s another Amish preacher who has such a close Englisch friend?” He leaned his chair back on two legs. “He doesn’t agree with having a literal interpretation of the Word like the Amish do”—Steven patted Landon on the shoulder—“but we agree on everything that’s important, including that without God’s grace, it doesn’t matter how close any of us get to righteousness.”

Maybe he should pinch himself. Was he awake? Steven hadn’t voiced any of that to him. But they had spent a lot of time talking, mostly about family, farming, and fishing.

Steven put his chair on all fours. “He has good ideas about what needs to be done to help Orchard Bend Farms become what we need.”

Rhoda nodded at Samuel.

“Landon,”—Samuel scratched his face just above his blond beard—“Rhoda and I have been talking, and if you’d be interested, we’d like for you to come back.”

Landon removed his ball cap and settled it back on his head again, but that did nothing to help clear his mind. “I’m confused.”

“Seems fair you should feel that way.” Rhoda straightened the sleeve of her dress. “Your presence has certainly confused us enough, but the bottom line is we want you back. If we’re disciplined or shunned because of it, then so be it.”

“I agree.” Steven nodded. “And with all he’s done and how much the Amish respect him because of it—”

“They do?” Landon blinked.

“Ya. They’re not sure how to act around you, so they avoid you, but I think your returning to the farm is a winnable battle now. Since you left the farm and kept your word about not calling Leah, and have been by my side every free minute, and have toted the Amish around as you’ve done, I
just don’t think your returning to the farm can cause a rift between Amish districts.”

The sense of being welcomed lasted only a few moments before it faded. Were they inviting him back because there was no chance Leah would want to be with him? Had she fallen out of love with him completely in the three months he’d been gone from Maine?

But that aside, he could see they were welcoming him. “Thanks. Really.” He stood. “I should probably get to NICU a few minutes early.”

Rhoda followed him out of ICU, and when they went through the unit’s double-wide doors, she stepped in front of him. “You’re disappointed in us.”

Landon stopped and leaned against a wall. “This offer would’ve meant more had it come months ago.”

“I know. I wish I’d realized then that my concerns were founded in fear and that I needed to fight against them, not mollycoddle them and use them to try to control the situation. But I didn’t, and we needed time to think and to be sure what was right.”

“And are you sure?”

“As certain as one can be about anything.”

“And Leah?”

Rhoda gestured down the hall, and Landon turned. His heart leaped as much with excitement as with hurt. She was heading their way

“Landon,”—Rhoda pulled his attention back to her—“she doesn’t know how we feel, in part because we’ve known for only a few days, and in part because it seemed fair to tell you first.” She lowered her eyes. “I can’t undo what my wishy-washy behavior has caused, but all of us ask your forgiveness for that.”

“Hey.” Leah stayed some ten feet away. “Isn’t it my turn to see Phoebe yet?”

Rhoda started down the hall. “Sure. You can take my place. I’d like to visit with my Daed.” She patted Leah’s shoulder as she passed her.

“Hi.” Leah fidgeted with her hands. “How are you?”

Landon longed to take them into his. “Good. You?”

“Thrilled that Phoebe’s doing as well as she is. But no one’s said much about the baby other than he’s thriving.”

“He’s a good eater. But it takes a while to get him to burp, and when his little hands grab something—a finger or shirt—he’s got quite a grip.”

“Rhoda’s Daed said you’d been helping feed him. From what I’ve heard, it seems you’ve won over most Amish.”

“I had no clue, but that’s sort of what Steven just said. Funny, isn’t it? Now that it doesn’t matter, they see I’m not such a bad guy.”

“It’s not funny, no.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” He wanted to ask what she thought of his returning to the farm, but he needed to make the decision on his own. She would probably tell him yes because she wanted what was best for him. But he wanted what was best for her, and he doubted that his returning to Maine was it.