The Wonder of Your Love

Twelve




“IT STINKS IN HERE.” MARTHA WAS DRESSED IN A purple pants outfit, and Katie Ann could tell that her friend had spent extra time on her hair this morning. Not one strand was out of place, and it was tightly secured under the butterfly clip. And her makeup was perfectly applied, right down to her bright red lipstick. “And I don’t even want to talk about how hungry I am.”

“I’m sure they’ll let you eat not long after the surgery.”

They wound their way down the hall to admissions. Martha said she’d already preregistered at the hospital, so it wasn’t long before she was shown to her room and settled into her bed. Much to her chagrin, it was not a private room.

“Katie Ann . . .” Martha motioned from her bed for Katie Ann to come closer, then she whispered, “Go find out why that person is in my room. I specifically asked for a private room, and I am paying good money to have one.”

In the next bed, a woman was lying on her side facing the window, only her long blond hair visible atop the covers.

“All right.” Katie Ann patted her on the arm, although she wasn’t as concerned about Martha’s roommate as she was about finding the doctor and getting some details about Martha’s surgery. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She turned when she got to the door. Martha was wearing a white hospital gown and was tucked beneath the quilt Katie Ann had given her. “Do you need anything?”

Martha pointed to the bed next to her and mouthed, “I don’t need a roommate.”

“Okay,” Katie Ann whispered as she left the room.


MARTHA TRIED TO calm her breathing. They’d be coming for her soon. She closed her eyes and prayed silently. Please, Lord, if You could see fit to have me wake up and live a few more years, I’d sure be grateful to get to see my little Jonas grow into a small person. If I leave now, he won’t remember me. She sighed. But if it’s Your will to take me home, please take care of Katie Ann and Jonas. And, Lord . . . can You make this as painless as possible? You know how much I hate pain.

Her prayer was interrupted when she heard whimpering to her left. She turned to face the back of the person in the bed a few feet from hers. Twisting her mouth back and forth, she watched the woman’s body shaking.

“You all right over there?” When there was no answer, Martha asked, “Do you need me to get a nurse for you?”

The woman didn’t turn around, but just shook her head.

Martha glanced around the room at all the equipment, wishing she could yank the IV out of her arm, but she figured that would hurt just as much as when they put it in. The woman in the next bed kept crying, and Martha hoped Katie Ann would hurry back and get this person out of here. Last thing she needed was more sadness.

Martha sat up in bed, dropped her feet to the floor, then pulled the IV pole the few feet to where the woman lay. She tapped her on the arm. “Honey?”

“I’m fine, really.”

Martha could tell by her voice that she was young, but she wasn’t sure how young. Her body stretched the full length of the bed beneath the covers. Martha leaned closer, not sure what to do. “You don’t sound fine,” she finally said.

“Well, I am.” The woman shifted a bit, but she didn’t turn around.

Martha wanted to see the face of the person she was talking to. She gently tapped her on the shoulder again. “I’m going to call a nurse if you don’t turn around and let me see that you’re all right.”

As the covers shifted, the woman slowly turned to face Martha, and Martha gasped.

“Do I look all right to you?” The woman could barely move her mouth due to the stitches across her lip, and Martha wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a shiner like the one this young woman had. Her left eye was swollen shut, and another gash ran along the side of her cheek with more stitches. “Happy now?” She turned back to face the window.

Martha didn’t move or speak for a few moments, then she took in a swift breath. “Whoever did that to you should be shot in the . . .” She bit her lip and remembered that the good Lord was listening. “Did a boyfriend or husband do that to you?”

No answer.

“Maybe a car wreck?”

The woman eased back around to face Martha. “I really don’t want to talk right now. Can you please just leave me alone?” She rolled over again, just about the time Katie Ann walked back into the room.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Katie Ann moved toward her, and Martha reluctantly climbed back into bed. Once she was settled beneath her quilt, which, unbeknownst to Katie Ann, she’d had blessed by both a priest and Bishop Esh, she folded her arms across her chest.

Katie Ann leaned closer and whispered, “They’ll be moving that woman out of here shortly, and you’ll have the room to yourself.”

Martha scowled. “What?”

Still whispering, Katie Ann leaned even closer to Martha’s ear. “You told me that you didn’t want to share a room, so they are coming to get her soon.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous.” She waved her hand toward the door. “Go back and tell them never mind.”

Katie Ann’s mouth fell open as she cupped her hands to her hips.

“Oh, don’t look so bothered. I’m the one about to get cut wide open. Just go now . . .” She waved her hand again, and Katie Ann shook her head all the way out the door.

Martha wanted to talk to the woman next to her. Actually, she was more like a girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen. But she wasn’t sure how to start up a conversation without irritating her more.

Just then the door eased open. Martha glanced up, and she was sure her heart was going to beat out of her chest. “Arnold? What in the world are you doing here? Now I’m sure I’m going to die, or you wouldn’t be here.”

The love of her life took off a black felt hat, similar to what the Amish folks wore, although Arnold was as Catholic as could be, and he shuffled toward the bed. “Hello, Martha. You should have told me you were ill.” He leaned down, and to her surprise, he kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

She swallowed back a lump in her throat. “How are things in Georgia?”

“I had my reasons why I needed to stay there after my son passed, but I am wrapping things up.” He smiled. “I’m thinking about moving back here, to Canaan.”

“Well, that’s just peachy, Arnold. You decide to move back here now? When I’m about to kick the bucket?” She rolled her eyes, glanced up, and prayed aloud. “Lord, there is something unfair about this.”

Arnold sat down in the chair by her bed, reached for her hand, and squeezed. “You are going to be just fine, Martha. I know it.”

“Nope. I’m fairly certain that I’m not going to wake up once they knock me out.” She squinted her eyes. “So, Arnold Becker, if there is anything you want to tell me, I suggest you do it right now.” She raised her chin.

Arnold chuckled. “Still my same Martha.”

His eyes twinkled, and Martha wished she could marry him on the spot.

“My, how I’ve missed you.” Then he frowned. “Why wouldn’t you let me come visit you?”

She turned to face the poor girl next to her, who was still facing the window. “I didn’t want to have to say good-bye again.”

She turned back to him. “But here you are, and I guess I’ll have to say it anyway.”

“I needed to be with my daughter-in-law and her family. We were all grieving, and I hated to leave them . . . and . . .” He pulled his eyes away from hers as he took a deep breath. “I didn’t come back to stay because I couldn’t provide for you in a proper manner. But I made some investments, and now—”

“Did the good Lord strip you of your senses?” Martha stiffened as she thought about all the months she’d missed this man. “I have more money than I’ll ever spend in a lifetime. I thought you knew that.”

Arnold stood taller. “But I wanted to be able to take care of you.”

She stared into his kind eyes, never more touched—or frustrated. She pressed her lips firmly together for a moment.

“On the off chance I pull through this, am I gonna have to tell you good-bye again?”

“Yes, we’ll have to part ways once you are better. But I’ll be back in a few weeks. To stay, if that’s all right with you.”

Martha shrugged, elated, but not about to let Arnold know just how much. “It’s a free country.”

Arnold chuckled again. “Yes, it is.”

Martha narrowed her brows. “Who told you I was getting cut on today?” She waved her hand in the air. “Oh, never mind. I know who it was.”

Right then, Katie Ann walked back into the room.

“My goodness, Katie Ann, look who showed up out of the blue!” She lifted one brow at Katie Ann, never more grateful to her friend.

“How about that, Martha. What a coincidence.” Katie Ann smiled. She walked closer to Martha and whispered again. “The girl is staying, but I don’t know why you can’t make up your mind.”

“Because I’m old.”

Katie Ann grinned. “You visit with Arnold. I’m going to go find out when they are coming for you.”


KATIE ANN WALKED to the nurses’ station and asked to speak to Martha’s doctor. She waited in a chair for almost fifteen minutes before a doctor walked up to her.

“Hi. I’m Dr. Lieberson. Were you asking about Martha Dobbs?”

Katie Ann stood and shook the doctor’s hand. “Ya. I was.” She took a deep breath, unsure how to ask the questions on her mind. “I was just—just wondering about . . .”

She recalled David’s kidney transplant and how everything was always presented to them in percentages. Chance the kidney would fail, 33 percent, or chance of infection, 50 percent. Things like that.

“Can you tell me what Martha’s percentage is?”

“Percentage?” The young doctor folded his arms across his chest. “Percentage about . . .”

Katie Ann bit her bottom lip and avoided his eyes. “What is the percentage that Martha will survive the surgery?” She glanced up at him as her heart thumped in her chest.

He paused. “Well, there are always risks when anyone has surgery, but I don’t foresee any problems. Martha should be able to go home tomorrow afternoon.”

Katie Ann gasped. “So soon? But won’t she have a large cut on her stomach that must be tended?”

“No. It won’t be a very big incision at all.”

“But if her tumor is the size of a grapefruit, that seems like—”

“What?” Dr. Lieberson pulled off a pair of dark-rimmed glasses and squinted. “Martha doesn’t have a tumor the size of a grapefruit. It’s no larger than a pea.”

“The kind you eat?” Katie Ann felt ridiculous the moment she said it, but she was more than confused already.

The doctor smiled. “Yes, like the kind you eat. We did a biopsy, and the cyst is benign, but it’s causing her some irritation, so we’re removing it. It’s a very simple procedure that should take less than an hour, plus her time in recovery.”

Katie Ann laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, doctor.” She put a hand over her mouth to stifle further laughter as relief washed over her. “This is very gut news. Martha must have misunderstood her diagnosis.”

She wasn’t sure if that was the case, or if Martha did what she usually did when it came to medical issues . . . embellished a bit. Either way, Katie Ann was glad to hear this.

Dr. Lieberson narrowed his brows. “I’m sorry if Martha didn’t understand. I spoke to her briefly after she met with her regular physician.”

Katie Ann smiled. “It’s all right. Martha must have been confused. I’ll go make sure she understands.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No.” Katie Ann was anxious to get back to the room. “When will they be coming to get her?”

The doctor scratched his cheek. “They should have already been to get her. I can check and see—”

“Katie Ann!”

Katie Ann swung around to see Martha approaching on a gurney with her arm stretched out and Arnold by her side. An orderly was pushing her along.

“They won’t let me take my quilt.”

“It’ll be in your room when you get back.”

Martha shook her head. “If I get back.”

“Martha, your cyst is very small. The doctor said this will be a very easy and quick surgery. You even get to go home tomorrow afternoon. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Big. Small. Whatever. I have a foreign growth inside of me.” She scowled at Katie Ann, then turned to Arnold and batted her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re with me during this difficult time.”

Once again, Katie Ann put a hand over her mouth. She knew any surgery was risky, but she wasn’t sure she’d seen Martha quite this dramatic before. She leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you. I’ll pray that all goes well. And I’ll see you shortly.”

“Bye, Katie Ann.”

Something about the way Martha spoke her name made Katie Ann terribly uneasy, and she didn’t feel like smiling anymore. Instead, she stepped aside as Martha’s gurney rolled past her, then she slowly followed. Once Martha was settled, she wanted to find the chapel.


TWO HOURS LATER, Katie Ann was growing antsy, and she could tell Arnold was too. He kept getting up, pacing in the waiting room, then sitting back down.

“Didn’t they say it would only take an hour?” he asked Katie Ann for the third time.

She nodded. She’d found the chapel earlier and prayed for the Lord to place His healing hand on Martha, and now, as they waited, she prayed even more.

A few minutes later, Dr. Lieberson came out from behind the double doors that led to the operating rooms. Katie Ann stood up. When she saw him smile, she put a hand on her chest.

“Everything went just fine. She’ll be in recovery for about an hour, then she’ll be back in her room.” He chuckled. “She mumbled something about food when she was first waking up.” He stroked his chin. “I thought she said creamed celery, but I’m not sure.” He reached out and shook both Katie Ann and Arnold’s hands. “Anyway, she’s doing just fine.”

“Thank you.” Katie Ann turned to Arnold and gave him a hug.

After a prayer of thanks, she and Arnold grabbed a bite to eat before heading back to Martha’s room. Martha’s roommate was still facing the window, so they were as quiet as they could be in case she was sleeping.

They’d barely sat down when the same orderly as before rolled Martha in.

Martha pointed a wobbly finger at the man. “Creamed celery is what I said.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a smile.

A nurse entered the room then, and together she and the orderly got Martha situated in her bed. Katie Ann quickly found the quilt and spread it on top of her.

“She’s still pretty groggy.” The orderly lifted the railing on the side of Martha’s bed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s hungry.”

He grinned. “You folks have a good day.” He waved as he left the room.

Katie Ann and Arnold each went to opposite sides of Martha’s bed.

“Hello, sunshine.” Arnold leaned down and kissed Martha on the cheek, but Martha turned to Katie Ann.

“I’m alive.”

Katie Ann reached for Martha’s hand and smiled. “Ya, you are.”

“In that case, I’m hungry.”

“I saw carts of food being wheeled around earlier, so I bet you will have some food very soon.” Katie Ann brushed back some of Martha’s gray strands that had fallen across her forehead.

“Creamed celery.” Martha’s eyes were closed as she spoke, and Katie Ann wondered if she would even be able to stay awake long enough to eat.

“I don’t think the hospital has creamed celery, Martha.”

Katie Ann heard movement to her left, and she turned to catch a glimpse of the battered young woman staring at all of them. The girl quickly turned back the other way. Katie Ann was wondering what happened to the girl when Martha squeezed her hand.

“Katie Ann, I think I need a nap . . .” Martha closed her eyes.

Katie Ann turned to Arnold. “The doctor said she would sleep most of today.”

Arnold nodded, and even though Martha did indeed sleep most of the day, Katie Ann and Arnold both stayed with her until late in the afternoon and finally told her good-bye around four o’clock.

During their time at the hospital, Katie Ann prayed.

And she laughed on the inside, wondering if Martha knew how loudly she snored. But Arnold never acknowledged it.

Instead, he just mentioned every little while how much he loved his Martha. Katie Ann found herself longing for that kind of love.


MARTHA PUSHED THE nurse’s call button for the third time in the past fifteen minutes. “What if I was dying in here?” she mumbled, glancing at the clock on the wall. Ten o’clock.


She could vaguely remember Katie Ann and Arnold telling her good-bye earlier in the day, but foremost on her mind at the moment was the fact that she had apparently missed dinner, and she was sure she’d never been this hungry in her life.

“What can I do for you?” A young woman in blue scrubs walked into the room and spoke to Martha in a whisper.

“Food. I need food. I must have slept through dinner.”

“The cafeteria is closed, but I can probably find some pudding, or maybe some chips. Something like that.”

Martha hung her head for a moment. “I was thinking more like a burger and some fries.” She looked up at the woman. “But I’d be grateful for anything you can round up.”

“Sure.” She picked up Martha’s chart at the end of the bed and studied it for a moment. “No food restrictions. Let me go see what I can find.”

After the woman left, Martha heard rock music coming from the bed next to her, then the girl answered a cell phone with a strained hello.

Martha lowered the volume on her television a bit.

“I don’t know when I can go home. They haven’t said. I think I’ll be in here for a few more days.” After a long silence, she said, “I know. That’s what you always say.” A moment later she clicked the phone closed and stared at the ceiling.

Martha studied the girl for a moment and wondered again what had happened to her.

“Why don’t you just take a picture?” The girl turned to face Martha.

Her voice sounded like a reflection of the girl herself. Broken.

Martha took a deep breath as she gazed into the girl’s one good eye. “What’s your name?”

“Danielle.” She dabbed at her lip with her finger and grimaced.

“I’m Martha.”

Silence. Martha could tell Danielle wasn’t in the mood to be friendly—and who would blame her?—but blatant curiosity drove Martha on. “Who did that to you?”

Danielle slowly twisted her head toward Martha. “Look, lady . . . Martha . . . I don’t mean to be rude, but my situation is really none of your business.” She closed her one good eye and winced, clearly in pain.

“Are they giving you something for the pain?” Martha shifted her weight slightly, thankful that she didn’t seem to be experiencing near the discomfort as this poor child.

“I guess.” Danielle opened her eye and stared at Martha for a few months. “Is Arnold your boyfriend?”

“He used to be.” She lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess maybe he will be again.”

“You’re not very nice to him.”

Martha pressed her lips together, raised one brow, and prepared to lambaste this child. But when the girl grimaced in pain again, Martha said simply, “I’m a lot nicer than whoever beat the snot out of you.”

Danielle stared up at the ceiling, and they were both quiet for a while. Martha hoped the nurse would return with some food soon.

“So . . .” Danielle turned to face Martha again. She could barely move her swollen lips as she spoke, and Martha strained to hear her. “That woman who was here . . . she’s Amish, huh?”

“Yes. Her name’s Katie Ann.”

Come on with some chow, nurse. Martha glanced toward the door and sighed.

“Those people are weird.”

Martha turned to face her, semi-glad that a conversation was ensuing. “The Amish are the gentlest and kindest folks I know.”

She turned her attention to the door when it swung open.

The same young nurse smiled and entered. “The McDonald’s downstairs was still open, so here you go.” She placed a bag on the nightstand by Martha’s bed.

Martha breathed in the aroma of French fries and wanted to hug the woman’s neck. “Honey, my purse is right there inside that drawer . . .” She started to reach for the drawer of the nightstand, but gasped when she pulled against her incision.

“Now, now. You lie back,” the kind woman said. “No need to pay me.”

“Yes, I need to pay you. I insist.” Martha opened the bag with the burger and fries. “You are my hero.”

The woman chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but just pay it forward. Do something nice for someone else.” Before Martha could respond, the nurse walked toward Danielle. “Can I get you anything, Danielle?”

Danielle just shook her head.

“Okay.” She turned to leave. “I’m here until six in the morning, so let me know if either of you needs anything.”

Martha dived into her burger and moaned with delight. Then she glanced at Danielle. “French fry?”

Danielle shook her head. “Those people are holy, aren’t they?”

“What people?” Martha asked around a mouthful.

“The Amish. They’re like all into God and everything, right?”

Martha swallowed. “They have a very strong faith.” She popped a fry into her mouth. “Good folks, the Amish.”

It was quiet for a while, only the low buzz of the television, some late-night talk show, and the beeps and sounds from the other side of the door. Normal hospital sounds. Martha was glad she was going home tomorrow, back to her own bed. And surely Katie Ann was at home making her some creamed celery. She smiled.

“I don’t believe in God.”

Martha snapped her head to the right. “What?”

“You heard me, Martha. There is no God, and people who waste their time praying to Him are doing just that . . . wasting their time.”

Martha thought her heart might break. If this girl needed anyone, it was surely the Lord. “How old are you, child?”

“Seventeen.”

“Not very smart for your age, are ya?”

Danielle squinted her eye at Martha and spoke slowly through half-opened lips. “Just because I don’t believe in God, that makes me stupid?”

“Correct.” Martha shoved the last bit of burger in her mouth.

“You don’t know anything about me. I used to make straight As in school, and I even graduated early.”

“Micky D’s wouldn’t normally be my first choice for a meal, but this is the best burger I’ve ever had.” Martha stuffed her trash into the bag and carefully eased it onto the nightstand, careful not to twist too quickly.

“Did you hear me? I’m very smart.”

Martha didn’t look at Danielle. “Yeah. I heard you.”

“People just wrote all that stuff in the Bible to keep us from killing each other.”

Martha turned to Danielle and lowered her chin. “Really?

Wow, hasn’t that worked well.”

“You know what I mean. It’s all made up, something to keep the masses in order.”

“If that’s what you choose to believe.”

“It’s the truth.”

“If you say so.”

They were quiet for a while, and Martha was starting to feel like she could sleep, but when Danielle spoke again, Martha heard the Lord calling her loud and clear.

“Why do you believe in God? What proof do you have that He exists?”

Martha took a deep breath, clicked the television off, and faced Danielle. “How much time you got?”