The Caregiver

CHAPTER 14





From the moment he’d met Amos, John knew he’d made a friend. A very good friend.

The second time they’d talked, when he’d confided to the old guy that he was uncomfortable living on the farm, Amos offered a solution. Amos wanted a partner. Actually, he wanted someone to take over his business.

“All I want to do is make donuts, John,” he’d groused. “I’m gonna go nuts if I have to sit back behind that forsaken counter for one more day.”

“I can sit there all day. I make a decent cup of coffee, too,” he’d said.

After a brief conversation about money, the deal was done.

The offer of becoming partners in the donut shop should have taken a lot of thought and consideration. But John knew it felt right.

So he’d accepted Amos’s offer to live above the donut shop, and now worked side by side with the elderly man, learning the business, and enjoying his company.

Things with his brother’s family were going well, too. Little by little, their conversations were less stilted. Mary now invited him over for dinner on Fridays. Calvin, Loyal, and Graham seemed to accept him in their lives . . . even if he wasn’t Amish. Katie, of course, had made his life wonderful. Every time they saw each other, she greeted him with hugs and kisses, and big happy smiles.

In town, he was also becoming more comfortable. He was making a few friends.

And then there was Jayne Donovan. Since their run-in, he’d seen her one other time. And though they didn’t have a date or anything planned, he knew there was an attraction between them that couldn’t be denied. Every time he was near her, he couldn’t help but stare at those unusual eyes of hers.

Taking out a fresh towel, he started wiping down one of the empty bakery cases.

And then thought about Jayne some more. Yep. One of these days, he was going to have to ask her out. Maybe he’d take her into Chagrin Falls—it was only a thirty-minute drive. He could take her out to dinner . . . they could walk around the square, look at the falls.

She could smile at him . . . and he could think about kissing her good night—

“Excuse me? Are you working?”

Slowly, he got to his feet from where he knelt. “Obviously,” he replied, smiling to take the sting out of his remark. He’d always had the tendency to be too cheeky.

The Amish woman’s eyes widened as he stood up, then she carefully stepped a little closer to her son standing next to her. He was a handsome boy, on the verge of manhood. Probably twelve, or thereabouts.

“May I help you?” he asked.

“You may,” she said primly. “We need a dozen donuts, please.”

He washed his hands quickly, then grabbed a box. “Any special kind?”

She bit her lip, just as if she was making the biggest decision of the day. Finally she looked at him. “All glazed, please.”

Her eyes were a pale green, the exact same color as the boy’s. Leaning his elbows on the counter, he smiled at the boy. “Are you sure? We have lots of other kinds. Lemon filled, cream cakes . . .”

Her eyes widened, then she shook her head. “No, glazed will do fine.”

Agreeably, he arranged the twelve donuts in a box, then smiled at the boy. “When you order twelve you get a baker’s dozen. Do you want your thirteenth now?”

His eyes lit up. “Can I, Mamm?”

Again, John watched her make the stupendous decision. But instead of feeling irritated, he became amused. She really was a cute thing. “All right,” she finally said. “You worked hard at the store today.”

“What kind do you want?” John asked.

“Chocolate,” the boy said.

After John gave him it, the boy whispered and pointed to the window.

The lady nodded and watched him leave before turning to John. “How much?”

“Six-fifty.” While he waited for her to get out her wallet, John said, “Good-looking boy you have.”

She handed him a five. “Danke. I mean, thank you.”

“I know Danke. I grew up Amish,” he said, surprising himself. He couldn’t remember the last person he’d told out of the blue like that. “I see he has your eyes. Is he your only one?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “My Abel is a wonderful-gut son. He’s been a great help to me ever since my husband passed on to heaven.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I am, too.” She shrugged. “But unfortunately, I lost my husband almost eight years ago. It’s been some time.”

“And you haven’t remarried?”

She shook her head, then stilled. Perhaps noticing, as John was, that the conversation was bordering on awkward.

He handed her the box, neatly taped up. “Here you go. I hope you’ll come back.”

“Are you new here?”

“In a way. I’m John Weaver, Jacob Weaver’s younger brother, if you know his family. I moved away twenty years ago, but I’m back.”

“To stay?”

“Yes.”

She looked at him again, then finally smiled. “Then perhaps I will see you again. Abel and I enjoy these donuts.”

“Especially the glazed?”

Her cheeks pinkened just like a girl’s. “Yes,” she murmured before turning away.

John watched her walk over to where her son was chatting with two other boys. She smiled. And then, to his amusement, she opened the box and offered the boys donuts, too.

John was . . . charmed.

She was fresh and sweet and had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. And though she knew his name, and he knew Abel’s, John realized he didn’t know her name. He really should have asked.

“Mattie? Mattie, can you hear me? It’s time to wake up for a bit.”

Mattie opened her eyes, looked at Lucy, and groaned. “How can this medicine be making me better? This morning, I feel ten times worse than I did at the medical center.”

“The nurses warned that might be the case,” Lucy said as she perched on the side of the bed. She held up a cup of ice water. “Do you want a sip?”

Mattie didn’t want a thing. She wanted to curl up in a ball and wish her troubles away. Have a good cry. But even in the weak condition she was in, she knew that wouldn’t help. Nothing good ever came from hiding and pretending nothing was wrong. She’d discovered that when she’d felt a lump under her arm and had ignored it.

Gingerly, she sat up and tried to smile. Though it embarrassed her, she let Lucy hold her cup for her as she sipped once, then swallowed again. The icy water did taste wonderful on her parched tongue. She swallowed again, but too fast and choked.

“Easy now,” Lucy murmured. “Take small sips.”

Mattie did as she bid. When the cup was half empty, she looked at Lucy and smiled.

Lucy returned her weak smile tenfold. “See, Mattie, things are going to be all right. Slowly but surely, we’re going to get through this. I’m sure of it.”

“Slowly is right,” she mumbled.

Doubt clouded Lucy’s caramel eyes for a moment before she beamed again. “Come now. We must look on the bright side, jah? You got through your first treatment!” Hardly skipping a beat, Lucy started smoothing Mattie’s fluffed pillows and yellow basket–patterned quilt. “That cancer isn’t going to have a chance.”

“I hope so,” she replied, though mentally she rolled her eyes. Yesterday, when they’d first put the medicine in her IV tube, she’d been scared to death. When she’d felt the cold liquid pour into her veins, she’d braced herself for pain. But none came, perhaps because of the many pills she was taking now to fight off everything from pain to nausea to sleeplessness.

However, today nothing seemed right. She felt achy and worn-out. So, so tired.

Leaning closer, Lucy carefully wrapped her hands around Mattie’s. Warming them. “Please stay positive, Mattie. You’re a fighter, and you’re going to win this battle, I just know it.”

“A fighter, hmm?” Mattie mused. “I never thought of myself in that way.”

“It’s about time you did. Now, are you ready to walk down the hall and use the restroom?”

“I suppose.”

Over the next hour, Lucy held her cousin steady as she walked down the hall, took care of her needs, and brushed her hair.

When Lucy offered to bring her some toast in bed, Mattie shook her head. “I can sit in the family room, at least. Just help me get on a robe.”

Finally, while sitting on the couch, armed with hot herbal tea and some dry toast, Mattie was just feeling almost like herself when the kitchen door opened. “Hello?” a male voice called out. “May I come in?”

With a glare, Lucy jumped to her feet.

Mattie laughed. Lucy looked so like an avenging angel. “It’s just Graham, Lucy. Not a stranger.”

“Graham?”

“Graham Weaver,” Mattie explained. “You know. Calvin’s younger brother.”

He poked his head in. “May I come in?”

Lucy started toward the kitchen. “What do you want to do?” she whispered. “Do you want me to make him leave?”

“No.” What her cousin didn’t understand was that she and Graham had been friends for pretty much all their lives. “If he came to visit, I’d like to see him for a bit.”

Before Lucy could say another word, Graham bounded forward. “Hello, Lucy,” he said politely, then crossed the room to Mattie, a bouquet of tulips in his hand. “I brought you some flowers.”

“So I see.”

Looking pleased with himself, he said, “I thought you might want to see some spring flowers when you wake up in the mornings.”

They were lovely. The eight blooms were a mixture of rose and violet and yellow, each one prettier than the last. “Nothing could brighten my day more,” she said honestly.

Still hovering, Lucy stepped forward. “I’ll put the tulips in water,” Lucy offered.

“Danke,” Mattie said.

When they were alone, Graham pulled up a chair and sat next to her. Oh, but he looked so dear. And so ill at ease.

Turning serious, he said, “How are you doing?”

“Well enough, I suppose.”

He shook his head. “Really?”

“Ah, we’re telling the truth now, are we?” She shrugged. “I’ve been better.”

“Mattie, are you in pain?”

“A little, but I don’t need anything,” she added when he looked like he was about to jump to his feet to get her help. “I mean beyond the flowers.”

“I’ll bring them to you all the time, then.” His teasing smile let her know that she didn’t need to take him seriously.

“There’s no need for that. Just bring yourself. You know I value your friendship the most.”

“You always have that,” he said quietly as he reached out and took her hand. Like she was made of glass, he ran one finger along the black-and-blue marks. “Ah, Mattie. Look at that. You’ve got a good-sized bruise on your hand.”

She pushed up her sleeve to show him another quarter-sized mark on the inside of her elbow, where they took so many blood samples. “I’m a regular pincushion these days, I’m afraid. I look ugly.”

“Never that.”

Graham’s words were softly said, but there seemed to be a hint of something new, too. A deeper emotion, right under the surface.

As she sat by his side, sensing his warmth, that old, familiar feeling of fascination for Graham came rolling back. Years ago, back when they were barely thirteen or fourteen, she’d had a terrible crush on him. He’d been so cute, and a favorite with all the girls.

She, on the other hand, had been going through an awkward stage, all arms and legs. That, combined with her moony gaze, had worked against any hope of the two of them being together.

In what had felt like no time at all, Graham had looked beyond his gangly next-door neighbor. Instead, he’d spent all his energy flirting with just about every other girl in their circle of friends.

After a time, she’d shaken off her infatuation and had moved on. Content to only be friends, thankful to have a good friend in him.

But now, as he stared at her, she wondered what would happen if things changed between them. Would their relationship turn awkward? Hesitant? Or would it finally feel right . . . the way it was supposed to?

Graham blinked, then smoothed a wrinkle on his shirt. “What, Mattie? Do I have a spider on me or somethin’?”

“Definitely not! You know if you had a spider on you, I’d be squealing.”

He laughed. “That’s true. I’ve never met a woman so afraid of bugs. So . . . you okay?”

“Jah. My mind just drifted, I suppose. Thank you again for the flowers.”

“Anytime.” But there was still a new wariness about him.

“Tell me about your brothers,” she murmured. “What’s new with them?”

Relaxing against the cushion of the couch, Graham propped one foot over his opposite knee. “Quite a bit, actually. As you know, Calvin and Katie had a gut time on his trip to Indianapolis.”

“I did hear that. And they brought home your uncle?”

“They did, indeed. John stayed with us for a bit, and now is living in town.” He winked at Lucy, who was back at her post by the door. “Every day we hear new stories about that train ride.” Her cousin squirmed.

“It was definitely an unusual day,” she mumbled.

That surprised a chuckle from Mattie. “I can’t believe you and Calvin were on the same train.”

“It was certainly a twist of fate,” Lucy agreed. “And, of course, Katie was with us.”

Graham smiled at that. “Katie has a way of getting into the middle of every major event.”

“She is a busy girl, that is for sure,” Mattie mused. Darting another quick glance Lucy’s way, she said, “I do hope Calvin will come over soon.”

Sure enough, at the mention of Calvin’s name, Lucy’s cheeks pinkened.

Leaning forward, Graham reached for Mattie’s hand and tucked it between his own work-roughened palms. “Calvin will stop by soon,” he promised. “He’s just been giving you some space.”

“I’ve had plenty of that.”

“Then I’ll tell him it is all right to stop by. I know he wants to see you, Mattie. Every time I come home after seeing you, he asks how you are doing.” Encompassing Lucy into his gaze, he added, “As a matter of fact, he asks how both of you are.”

“Now, isn’t that kind of him?” Mattie glanced Lucy’s way again. Although her cousin looked to be studiously examining a cut on her finger, Mattie knew she was hanging on every word about Calvin. Looking back at Graham, she said, “I know Calvin and I are gut friends . . . but perhaps he wants to see someone else, too?”

His eyes lighting up, Graham nodded. “I would wager he does.”

Lucy bit her lip. “I don’t know about that. We didn’t part on the best of terms.”

“That’s easy enough to fix, don’tcha think?” Mattie asked. Thinking of her cancer, and of the way it had snuck up on her and then taken over her life, she said, “I’m coming to learn that there’s some things that are out of our hands. And some things that aren’t too difficult to take charge of.”

“And you think this is one of those things?” Lucy asked, her tone tinged with sarcasm.

“Absolutely,” Mattie said.

Actually, she knew for a fact that patching things up with Calvin wouldn’t be too difficult at all. Only things involved there were words. Not needles or operations.

Or fear.

As if sensing an internal distress, Graham clasped her hand again and squeezed it gently. Grateful for his touch, Mattie smiled his way. Thank goodness for Graham. Thank goodness for good friends.