The Hand that Rocks the Ladle (22 page)

Both Jonathan and Barbara beamed. “Yah, very happy,” they said in unison.

“But two sets of diapers. That’s going to be a lot of work.” I chuckled pleasantly. “Too bad they can’t use a litter box.”

Barbara frowned. “Ach, a child is never too much work. It is a gift from God.”

Her attitude surprised me. The woman is normally placid and easygoing. Motherhood, it appeared, did strange things to one.

“Well, a gift, yes, but instead of one that keeps giving and giving, this one never stops taking. You’ll be ninety years old and still worrying about these two.” At least that’s what Mama used to tell me. “Now a cat, well, fifteen years—twenty tops—that sucker will be dead.”

Little Freni yowled in protest.

“What was that?” Barbara was clearly alarmed.

“Nothing, dear. Maybe my stomach.” As long as you remember to say “maybe,” it’s not a real lie. Still, it was time to change the subject. “Jonathan, dear, how’s your father?”

Jonathan shrugged.

“He has not left my side,” Barbara said. The pride in her voice was unbecoming in an Amish woman.

“How very sweet, dear. Well, from what I’ve heard, Mose seems to be doing just fine. Freni calls now and then from the hospital in Bedford. I’m surprised she hasn’t called here.”

Barbara and Jonathan exchanged knowing glances.

“Come on, dears, you can say it. I won’t breathe a word to anyone.” Kittens obviously didn’t count.

Barbara looked lovingly at her suckling baby. “Ach, it is just Nurse Dudley is so—so—”

“So mean?”

“Yah. I was saying to Jonathan that maybe his mama called, but we were not told.”

“Nurse Deadly,” I said, “appears to hold a grudge against all of mankind.” For the first time I noticed a Band-Aid on Jonathan’s forehead. “She didn’t do that, did she?”

Jonathan grinned. “Ach, no. That is from when I fell.”

“He fainted,” Barbara said. She giggled. Call me sentimental, but there is something particularly sweet about a six-foot-tall, two-hundred-pound giggler holding a nursing infant.

“You fainted?”

Jonathan blushed. “Ach, I was only out for a few minutes. I did not miss anything.”

“When was this?”

“During the delivery,” Barbara said. She giggled again.

My heart raced. “Oh, my heavens,” I fairly shrieked. “This may explain everything!”

"What’s all the commotion?” Nurse Dudley’s enormous noggin protruded through the door space like a mounted lion’s head.

“It’s nothing, dear. We’re just having a family celebration.”

“Keep it down,” she snarled. “This is a hospital, not a zoo.”

“Yes, sir!”

Nurse Dudley glared at me with amber eyes. “One of these days, Yoder. One of these days.” Then off she strode, no doubt to find lesser prey for her supper.

“Ach,” Barbara said, shaking her head, “I will have to pray for that woman.”

“Pray that she gets a job offer overseas. Now, dears, tell me again about this fainting incident.”

“It was nothing,” Jonathan said quickly.

Barbara smiled. “Yah, but it was a surprise. Jonathan has delivered many calves on the farm. Foals too. Sometimes he has to reach inside and turn them around.”

“And that was the first time for fainting,” Jonathan said.

I nodded encouragingly. “Well, I hear it’s much different if the mother-to-be in question is your wife. So, at exactly which point did this happen?”

Jonathan squirmed. “Please, Magdalena, is this necessary?”

“That depends, dear. You see, if you were out long enough, it is possible your mama was right.”

“Ach, but—but—I was only out a few minutes.”

I turned to Barbara. “Can you confirm that?”

“It seemed like hours to me.” She grinned.

I grinned back. Perhaps not unknowingly, but conspiratorially, nonetheless.

“But of course it wasn’t, because you had one of the fastest deliveries on record. Still, it seemed like quite a while, did it? That Jonathan was out cold, I mean.”

“Yah, but frankly, Magdalena, it is not so clear anymore.”

“What’s not clear?”

“I remember the pain, yah? And the joy, that too. But the memories are mixed up. It seems like—well, in a way it seems like it happened a long time ago.”

“But that was only yesterday!”

“Yah, and in some way it seems like it happened just a few minutes ago.” She yawned. “Ach, suddenly I am very tired.”

“So, you’re saying you’re not a reliable witness?”

“Yah.” She yawned again.

“Don’t poop out on me now!” I wailed. “How about you, Jonathan? You didn’t happen to look at your watch, did you? Maybe just before, and then again, after you kissed the floor?”

“Ach, Magdalena, I don’t wear a watch.”

Of course. No Amish person in good standing would wear such a worldly ornament.

“Well, was there a clock in the delivery room? Maybe you glanced at it!”

Jonathan had stood, still cradling little Jonathan. “My Barbara needs to take a nap.” He nodded in his wife’s direction. “Will you take Little Mose back to the nursery with me?”

I sighed. “It would be my pleasure.”

I gingerly took the newborn from his mother’s arms. Unlike kittens, small babies seldom land on their feet. At any rate, you can be sure I took great care not to drop him, and held him somewhat away from my scrawny chest. But even with the latter precaution, Little Freni was not pleased. She hissed like a leaky pot on a hot stove.

“Shhh,” I said, repeatedly masking the hisses. Barbara and Jonathan gave me odd looks but said nothing. Perhaps they thought my behavior was typical of English spinsters holding babies. But just for the record, despite all the hissing and shushing, or maybe because of it, by the time the four of us reached the nursery, Little Mose was fast asleep.

Nurse Hemingway rolled her eyes when she saw me. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me,” I said. I tried to hand her Little Mose, but she took a step back, as if we might be contagious.

“You can put him there in the bassinet. The one on the left. He no longer needs the incubator.”

I did as I was told. “Say, Hemmy, you wouldn't be free for a cup of coffee would you? I mean, you get a break, right?”

She glanced at an enormous watch with an orange face and a bright pink band. It looked entirely unprofessional. There was obviously not a drop of Amish blood in her veins.

“Actually, I don’t get a break for another two hours. And then it’s supper.”

“Well, I could come back. Or, I tell you what—why don’t you come by my place for supper?” I would probably have to cook it, but Nurse Hemingway was clearly not a woman of discerning taste. I didn’t see my homemade victuals as a problem.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” she said, and took Little Jonathan from his namesake.

“Why not? I run an inn. I have guests all the time. Come on, it will be fun.”

She looked like the raccoon I surprised in my grain silo, and I’m not just talking about her makeup either. “Miss Yoder, I didn’t want to say this flat out, but I don’t like you.”

“What?” I hardly knew the woman, but for some reason that hurt me to the core.

“Please don’t make me say it again.”

I jiggled a pinkie in my right ear. “Perhaps I misunderstood you. I thought you said you didn’t like me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your hearing.”

“But I’m a barrel of laughs! Aren’t I, Jonathan?” Jonathan looked like a doe caught in my headlights. “Well—”

“Oh, go on, and tell her, dear. Everybody likes me, right?”

“Ach!”

“Well, I never!”

“But I like you,” he said, almost shyly. “And my Barbara likes you.”

“And your mama!”

“Ach, yah!”

Nurse Hemingway flashed me a triumphant little smile. “Well, I don’t like you. You’re so pushy and rude.”

“But I’m not!” I wailed. I turned to Jonathan. “Am I?”

“You see?” Nurse Hemingway crowed. “That’s exactly what I mean. You push people into corners and you don’t give them an ‘out.’ ”

“That’s not true. You just don’t understand our ways because you’re from Pittsburgh.”

“Have it your way—of course.” She turned her back. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Humiliated, I said good-bye to Jonathan and left.

After leaving the nursery I pretended to need the ladies’ room, and then after waiting a few minutes, I doubled back. Nurse Hemingway was still on duty, alone with the infants. Apparently she didn’t have bat ears like Miss Dudley.

“Well, you don’t have to swear,” I said when she was quite through.

“What do you expect me to do when you scare me half to death? Dance with joy? Look, Miss Yoder, it isn’t going to work. Nagging is not going to make me like you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, dear. I didn’t come back because of that—although I still don’t agree with you. I came back because I have a few questions to ask.”

She bent over and started to undo Little Jonathan’s diaper that, incidentally, sorely needed it. I could smell it from the door. At any rate, as she lowered her head a lock of bleached blond hair fell across her face.

“Dang,” she said. Only it was a lot worse than that.

I gasped. “I’m telling! It’s one thing to swear at me, but you were looking right at the baby. What if he grows up to be a Presbyterian? Or worse yet, a Roman Catholic?”

She straightened. “Well, it’s your fault. You’ve got me really worked up.” She smiled unexpectedly. “Look, there’s some rubber bands on that little desk in the corner. Bring me one, will you?”

“I thought you were from Pittsburgh.”

“I am.”

“But you said—”

“Bring me a dang rubber band,” she snapped. “Is that too much to ask?”

I got the rubber band. “Pittsburgh born and raised?”

She caught the stray strand with the rubber band and secured it under her white cap. “Look, Miss Yoder, I don’t have time to bond. I’ve got a job to do here.”

“But you’re not from Pittsburgh, are you? Pittsburghers call them gum bands, not rubber bands. It’s one of their foibles that makes them so delightful.”

“Okay, so I’m not from Pittsburgh, what of it?”

“So, you lied.”

“Big deal. I only did it to be accepted. You people are so cliquish.”

“Where are you from, dear?”

“New Jersey. You have a problem with that?”

I took a step back. Things were starting to fit together.

“There were three babies, weren’t there?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I’m deadly serious.”

“Look, I don’t have time to argue nonsense. But here are the facts. There were four of us present in the delivery room, babies not included, and all four of us can testify there were only these two. These cute, adorable little twins.” She made goo-goo sounds at Little Jonathan. There were two reasons now for me to gag.

I backed up another step and almost knocked over Little Mose’s bassinet. “Sure, there were four adults in the room, but only three besides you. I just talked to Barbara and Jonathan. Barbara admits that she was not the most reliable witness, and Jonathan confessed that he flat out fainted, which leaves—”

“He said that?”

“Yes, he’s certain of it.”

Now it was she who backed away. “He was only out for a few seconds.”

“Says you, dear. But I’m beginning to think he may have been unconscious a lot longer than that. Say, long enough for you or that gnome of a doctor to spirit away the third Hostetler baby.”

“That’s absurd.” She was edging back toward the desk. No doubt she planned to call security. Well, let her. There is safety in numbers.

“And speaking of the dinky doc with a potbelly,” I said, thinking aloud, “I don’t think I trust him as far as I could throw him. Probably even less than that. If he’s diabetic like he claims, why did I catch him pigging out on pancakes and those phony fruity syrups?”

“You did?”

She was grappling for the phone behind her. “Well, there could be a number of explanations for that. Maybe the syrup was that sugarless kind or—” She paused.

“Or what? Because Wanda Hemphopple wouldn’t know sugarless from a hole in her beehive. Fat-free either. That’s what makes the food there so good.”

“Maybe this will help explain things,” she said. In her right hand a pistol gleamed.

"Okay, big mouth, any more questions?”

“Uh-uh, mind if I sit down?” It was a legitimate question. My knees were knocking like the cylinders on Papa’s old Edsel the year Susannah put sand in the gas tank.

“Actually, I do mind. You’re taking a walk with me.”

I braced myself on Little Mose’s bassinet. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I shoot.”

“But there are babies in here for crying out loud!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a very good shot. My ex was a cop. He taught me to shoot on a civilian range. I can sign my name on a target. It’s a lot more fun than just making bull’s-eyes.”

That took care of my urge to duck behind a bassinet. “You won’t get away with this, you know. Nurse Dudley has ears like a bat. Pop me off and she’ll be back here in a flash.”

Nurse Hemingway laughed. “Good. I hate the woman. And there are plenty of bullets in this thing.”

“Any silver bullets?”

She smiled grudgingly. “Don’t bother to kiss up; I don’t like you any better. Now put both hands behind your head and move to the door. Quickly!”

I did as I was told. As I started for the door, hands on head, I noticed for the first time that the nursery blinds had been drawn. Had they been that way from the beginning? Or had she used that special control at her desk? It didn’t matter in any case. As soon as I stepped into the hall, I’d make a run for it. Good shot or not, she would have a lot harder time hitting me out there. Without the babies to worry about, I could zigzag like a chicken drunk on sour mash. And if I could make it to another room, I could lock the door, or jam it with a piece of furniture. I may be skinny, but I’m strong.

“Hold it right there,” she barked, just before I reached the door.

I was still in the room, and a ricocheting bullet could have put an end to one of Freni’s two remaining grandbabies. I had no choice but to obey.