The Caregiver (17 page)

His comment startled a laugh—which was almost as startling as the realization that she did want to sit with him for a little bit longer. “Calvin, this is silly—”

“I don’t think so.”

“And I’ve got chores . . . Aunt Jenna’s going to wonder why I didn’t dust like I told her I would . . .”

“She won’t care. I promise.” Looking in the pail, he examined the pile of berries; then, with a satisfied look, he plucked one out. “Now
this
is a perfect blackberry.”

Drawn into his silliness, Lucy examined it. Indeed, it was as perfectly formed as any she’d ever seen. And the color was a beautiful shade—right in between black and purple. “God had to be pleased with that one, for sure.”

Still holding it, he looked at it this way and that. “I think you’re right. Lucy, I would venture a guess that this berry right here is the best in the whole pail.”

There were at least a hundred berries in that pail. “The best, hmm?”

“Do you think it’s as sweet as it looks?”

“I surely have no idea.”

He brought it to her lips. “Taste it and see, why don’tcha?”

Before she could stop herself, Lucy opened her lips and let Calvin feed her. She was so shocked, she closed her mouth quickly. Narrowly missing his fingers.

“Easy now,” he murmured. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. So . . . how does it taste?”

Lucy bit. Instantaneously, the bittersweet juice exploded in her mouth. Worried that juice would somehow run down her chin, she swallowed quickly. “It’s delicious.”

His gaze turned warmer. “I’m glad of that.”

The tension between them was as electric as the lightning the night they met. Lucy was aware of every bit of him. Of the way he held his shoulders back, so proud and strong. Of his height, and his strength.

How his smiles came so easily. And how he always seemed to be aware of her. As aware as she was of him.

Seeking to keep things light, she tilted her chin up. “I’m quite sure that berry was the best of the batch.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that,” he replied, his eyes sparkling. After choosing another, he popped one into his own mouth. “Hmm . . . maybe I was wrong. This one was pretty good, too.”

Unable to stop herself, she started laughing. “Calvin Weaver, what am I going to do with you?”

“Sit here and eat berries with me. Just for a little while.” His expression earnest, he eyed her. “Can you do that, Lucy? Can you just sit with me for a little while and enjoy the day?”

She had things to do. They had things to talk about.

But none of that seemed as important as sitting next to him, as feeling that same little rush of emotion that she’d now come to anticipate whenever he was near. “You know what? I can sit with you for a spell,” she said, plucking out a berry for herself. “I would very much like to enjoy the day. At least for a little while.”

Calvin nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Chapter 21

“M
attie, your blood counts are low today. I think we’d better watch over you for a while this evening,” Dr. Wilmington, her oncologist, said when he entered her examining room.

Mattie nodded even as her world spun. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised? For the last few days she’d felt terrible—even worse than usual. Plus, she was tired. So, so tired.

Beside her, Lucy hopped to her feet. “Doctor, the low blood counts—what does that mean?”

“It means Mattie’s body might not be responding to the chemo drugs as well as I would have hoped,” he said quietly. “I want to run a few more tests and monitor some things. We can’t do that in an office visit.”

“Oh,” Lucy said.

Feeling her cousin’s gaze settle on her, Mattie knew she should say something. Try to reassure her. But unfortunately, she just couldn’t do it.

Instead, she bit her lip as Lucy’s jaw tightened and her voice turned cheerful and optimistic. “Well, this is for the best, then, ain’t so, Mattie?”

Was it? Mattie only shrugged and looked out the window as Dr. Wilmington was already murmuring orders to the nurse who had just entered.

When the nurse exited the room, Lucy stepped forward and started pestering the doctor again. “Dr. Wilmington, has Mattie gotten worse?” she asked, just as if Mattie wasn’t sitting there right next to her. “Is something terribly wrong?”

“Not necessarily.” While Dr. Wilmington went into a long and drawn-out explanation about numbers and platelets to Lucy—who must had been studying up on such things because she kept interrupting and asking for clarification—Mattie let her mind wander.

Instead of concentrating on the state of her blood, she thought about her garden. Wondered when her daisies and black-eyed Susans would bloom. Thought about getting a hydrangea bush. She did so love its violet blooms.

As Lucy and the doctor continued to weigh the pros and cons of her treatment, Mattie daydreamed about gardening. Oh, she hoped that one day soon she could kneel in the soft dirt and feel the sun on her back again. That she could dig her hands into the earth and not have to worry about getting an infection.

Dreaming about nature was the best way to get through the day. She’d already learned that even the best of explanations could never tell her exactly what she wanted to know—and that was why in the world a twenty-two-year-old woman would be struck with cancer.

When his speech wound down, and Lucy looked more confused than ever, a silence permeated the room.

Obviously, both Lucy and the doctor were waiting for her to say something. Anything to illustrate her understanding. With a sigh, Mattie faced the inevitable. “I’m going to be here longer than just one night, aren’t I?”

The kind doctor’s eyes softened. Like he understood just what a hardship it was for her. “I think so.” Looking down at her chart, he murmured, “Your body is having a difficult reaction to some of the drugs. I’m worried about your swollen hands and feet.”

Looking at her hands, which were indeed terribly red and swollen, Mattie nodded. She’d been worried about them, too . . . but hadn’t wanted to say anything.

“We’ll cross our fingers that your stay will be just for one night,” Dr. Wilmington said. “I’m hoping the change in the dosage of your medicine will alleviate the problems. But we’ll need to keep a close eye on you. We can’t be too careful, you know.”

“I suppose not.” Looking Lucy’s way, she added drily, “I’ll cross my fingers, too.”

“And you will pray, too, yes?” Lucy asked in Pennsylvania Dutch.

“Of course,” she replied. But of course that was a lie. She wouldn’t be praying. Praying didn’t help.

“Mattie, after you’re admitted and we get more of your tests results back, I’ll stop by your room,” Dr. Wilmington said. “In the meantime, do you have any more questions?”

“Nee.”
After all, there was really nothing to say.

Gently patting her arm, he smiled at both her and Lucy, then exited.

In a furtive motion, Lucy wiped her eyes. Mattie pretended she didn’t see, though her heart went out to her cousin. It was difficult to hear such bad news. Especially the first time. So she attempted to lighten things up. “Well, there goes our fun afternoon.”

But instead of Lucy joking right back, she flinched. “Mattie, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t you worry none. There’re lots and lots of people who are watching every little part of me, Lucy. I’ll be okay.”

“It’s not your cancer I’m worried about, it’s your feelings.”

“My feelings?” Mattie raised an eyebrow. “My feelings don’t matter, Lucy.”

“Of course they do. Why, it’s your spirit and your hope that are the most important right now.” Looking her over, Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“You better not. Things will get better, I promise. They always do.”

Mattie wished her mind was clearer. Her cousin had a tender heart, and only wanted to make things better. The right thing to do would be to offer some kind of consolation. Something to ease Lucy’s worries and make sure her cousin would believe that everything was going to be all rosy. But at the moment, Mattie didn’t have anything more to say. The disease was taking over her life, bit by bit.

She used to feel she was so strong. She used to feel like she could do anything—even fix Lucy’s life. Even fix Lucy.

Now it was all too apparent that she couldn’t even fix herself.

Looking at her light teal dress lying on the back of Lucy’s chair, she mused, “Do you think I could get dressed? I hate these thin hospital gowns they make me wear.”

Lucy brightened. “Yes, changing would be better. I’ll go ask.”

But just as she opened the door, another nurse popped through.

“Mattie, I heard you’re going to visit with us for a few days,” she said, her voice crisp.

“I heard that as well.” Desperately, she looked at her dress. If she had on her clothes, at least she could still be herself on the outside. “Can I get dressed?”

“There’s no need, dear. We’re going to call in an orderly to help move you to a wheelchair. Then we’ll transfer you from the medical center to the main hospital building.”

With a sympathetic look, Lucy said, “My cousin will be cold dressed just in that gown . . .”

“Oh, we’ll cover you up in warm blankets,” the nurse replied as she moved around the room, gathering Mattie’s things into a neat pile. “Don’t you worry, dear. We’ll have you snug as a bug, head to toe.”

Mattie sighed as depression weighed down on her again. Though her brain told her everything the nurse said made sense, it was never more evident that she was supposed to do nothing but sit and follow directions.

As Lucy asked about a phone and the nurse told her the way to the nurses’ station, Mattie only half listened.

Even though the doctors said it was all gone, the cancer was still winning. It didn’t matter how she’d gotten it. What mattered was that she did.

All she had to understand was that it had claimed her, and it wanted to be the winner. She was the loser.

She could put up a brave front. She could act like she was fighting her hard battle—and she would. But now Mattie knew for certain—felt it deep inside her—that the cancer was going to claim her life.

P
rayer worked wonders, John thought as he sat in the empty sanctuary of the Lutheran church and breathed deep. Ever since Calvin and Katie had stopped by to tell him about Mattie’s turn for the worse, it had weighed heavily on his mind.

A part of him knew it didn’t make all that much sense. Though he’d met Mattie when he walked over to the Lapps’ with Graham, he truly didn’t know the girl all that well.

He didn’t know her any better than the dozens of people he’d met over the last few years. Some of them had been really hurting, too. But he’d never been tempted to pray for them.

However, he felt closer to everyone here in Jacob’s Crossing. Even though he wasn’t living at his old house, he felt a part of the community. And because of that, he ached to do anything to help their worries.

Even if it was only prayers.

Obediently, he prayed for Mattie’s health. And for her doctors and nurses and other caregivers. He prayed for Mattie’s parents, and for everyone who was working so hard to make each of her days a little easier.

He gave thanks for God’s healing touch. And for all the blessings in his life.

And then he paused.

As the moments passed, John was sure he felt the Lord Himself standing at his side, waiting for the rest of the truth.

“Lord, I guess I can’t fool you, can I?” he murmured. “You’re right. I’m here for selfish reasons, too. I need help and guidance.”

As the air around him softened, John kept talking. “Lord, I know coming back to Jacob’s Crossing was the right thing to do. I am so thankful to be forging a relationship with my brother’s family. They are good people, and a true joy to me.”

“And this donut shop, well, it’s a gift. I am enjoying my partnership with Amos, and I am certainly happy to not be working in a cubicle like I was in Indy.”

“So I’m real thankful for all of that.”

He took a deep breath. “But, God, I just don’t understand why you’ve brought two such different women into my life. What can it mean? Jayne is everything I used to dream about. An English woman, confident, beautiful. Okay, I’ll admit it—she’s desirable. Very much so.”

Feeling a bit embarrassed to admit such things aloud, he rushed on. “But, Lord, Mary has taken my heart, too. Every time I see her, I want to do more for her. I want to help her with Abel, and hear more about her life . . . And how can that be? I left the order.

“I left, and I didn’t look back. Well, not until now.

“What do you want me to do?”

John paused, half waiting for a bolt of lightning or a note to fly through the air, giving him specific directions.

But of course nothing like that came. No, all he felt was a reassurance that he wasn’t alone. That his prayers would be heard.

In due time.

“Amen,” John said. Standing up, he looked around and realized he felt a little bit better. No, nothing was decided, and he was still as confused as ever.

But at least he felt like he had a buddy to discuss things with.