Christmas Comes to Morning Star Page 18

  And meanwhile, she looked utterly comfortable holding Levi, feeding him his bottle as though she’d done it since his birth.

  Because of the body trauma her cancer treatment had caused, Marietta Helfing was far too thin—flatter than a pancake—and sometimes she got tired more quickly than she was willing to admit. Her short hair escaped her kapp in tousled waves in the front, and it would take years for it to grow long enough to wear in a traditional Amish bun. Yet in the halo of lamplight, as she gazed at his two sons with such love in her eyes, she took on the tranquil beauty of Mary beholding Jesus in His newborn glory.

  It was a holy moment Glenn knew he’d never forget.

  When Marietta caught sight of him, the spell was broken—yet the way her slender face lit up filled his heart with hope. “Oh, Glenn, you just missed hearing Billy Jay recite—”

  “No, I heard every word,” he said, approaching the couch with an accelerating heartbeat. “Billy Jay, you were awesome! And Marietta, I can’t thank you enough for helping him learn his piece for the program. Had I been working with him, we’d still be on the first line.”

  Marietta winked. She winked at him! “Ah, but Billy Jay and I, we’re special-gut friends,” she explained, nodding along with his son. “And sometimes friends work together better than parents and kids, jah?”

  Glenn couldn’t answer. He suddenly yearned to be Marietta’s special-gut friend—

  Oh, it goes way, way deeper than that.

  As he looked at the small remaining space on the couch beside her, his heart hammered in his chest. Did he dare scoot in to sit with them, or would that blow the moment? Little Levi was dozing so peacefully—

  Marietta slid toward Billy Jay, and then her eyes issued the invitation Glenn had secretly yearned for—for longer than he’d realized. Before he lost his nerve, he wedged himself between the arm of the couch and Marietta.

  The space was tight enough that the only way to make his position work was to slip his arm around her shoulders. As if he’d plugged in a cord, Marietta’s face lit up—and so did Billy Jay’s.

  “Well, now,” Dat said from across the room. “That’s a sight for sore eyes. Everybody cozied up on the couch like a family. Best Christmas present ever.”

  Glenn’s pulse raced as he sat against Marietta, with her face mere inches from his. His father sounded groggy from his nap, but his perception was spot-on: when Marietta was with them, they felt like a family again.

  It was the wrong moment to kiss her for the first time, yet that urge told Glenn how far his feelings for her had come in the past couple of weeks. It was also a poor time to talk about Pete’s situation, but maybe the day’s tragedy would keep him from blundering ahead too quickly, saying something to Marietta that he wasn’t yet ready to express. And perhaps her calming presence was exactly what he needed to help him deal with Pete’s accident.

  “I suppose you heard what happened at the house this morning,” Glenn said softly. He glanced across the room to include his dat in the conversation.

  “Jah, when Chuck stopped by to tell us about Pete’s fall, Molly went straight to the hospital with him,” Marietta said in a worried voice.

  “I bet she shot outta here like a chicken bein’ chased by an alligator!” Billy Jay piped up. “Teacher Lydianne read us a story about that today—”

  Marietta gently shushed him, but she was smiling at the picture his words had created. “What’s the latest on his condition, Glenn? What a horrible thing for Pete—and for you, now that you’re so close to being finished with the house.”

  Glenn’s body relaxed. He squeezed Marietta’s shoulder, grateful for her support. Between his son’s comic relief and Marietta’s quiet concern, he was better able to sort out his feelings about the calamity he’d witnessed.

  “They weren’t telling me a lot at the hospital, except that he’s scheduled for some immediate surgery to repair his broken bones and injured muscles,” Glenn replied. “Their biggest concern was that he hadn’t regained consciousness. All of his systems seemed to be functioning, but they couldn’t rouse him.”

  “Molly must be at wit’s end if she can see him but can’t speak with him,” Marietta murmured. “The way those two shoot words at each other—like kids with toy bows and arrows—she’ll be feeling very desperate until she hears his voice again. Let’s pray for both of them, shall we? It’s the best thing we can do to help them, so God will hear us and work out His will in their lives.”

  When Marietta bowed her head, Glenn followed her lead.

  “Father God, we ask for Your presence with Pete and Molly,” she said in simple sincerity. “Heal him and guide his doctors to do the right things to restore his health. Help Molly find ways to help him, as well, and grant her the strength to accept Your will for Pete’s life—and for their life together going forward. We ask these things in the name of Your dear and holy son, Jesus, come down from heaven to save us from our sins. Amen.”

  Glenn exhaled slowly. He felt better knowing that his friend’s life was indeed in God’s hands—and that Pete had a good woman beside him to help him through the aftermath of his accident.

  Life is finer with a gut woman beside you. And I’m grateful to You for that, too, Lord.

  * * *

  Through her tears, Molly gazed at Pete in his hospital bed. As she sat beside him, grasping his hand—one of the few body parts that wasn’t covered in a bandage or attached to a monitor—she wondered what must be going on inside his head. Was he aware of his surroundings, aware she was with him? Or was his mind a dark, empty void?

  If he doesn’t come around, what’ll I do? How will I ever get along without Pete, now that we’ve finally agreed we’re meant to be together?

  She was listening to his shallow breathing so intently that she didn’t notice when someone entered the dim room, which was lit only by the glow of the monitors.

  “Still no response from him?”

  Molly jumped, letting out a little yelp.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Bishop Jeremiah said in a louder voice. “I should’ve let you know I was here, but I thought—with your head on the mattress that way—you might be taking a nap. You could probably use one, late as it is.”

  Molly blinked. She glanced up at the wall clock, wondering how it was already after eight o’clock. “I, uh—maybe I did drift off,” she admitted. “But no, he hasn’t made a peep. Hasn’t moved a muscle, either. I—I don’t know what to do, or what to think.”

  Pete’s uncle brought a folding chair over and set it beside hers. He placed a lidded plastic container on the bedside table and rolled it over so she could reach it. “I figured you might still be here, so Mamm sent you some dinner. Considering that the surgeon told us they’d sedated Pete pretty heavily before they patched him up, I’m not surprised he’s still zonked out.”

  Molly didn’t feel the least bit hungry, but she popped off the container’s lid. “What if . . . what if he doesn’t come out of it?”

  The bishop gently grasped her wrist. “Let’s keep the faith and not worry about that yet, all right? Pete took a hard fall, but he’s strong and fit and young—and feisty, jah?”

  Molly nodded doubtfully.

  “And now that you two have finally realized you’re meant for each other, he has every reason to fight his way back to us,” Jeremiah continued with utter conviction. “Have you told him you expect to see him up and around?”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “I—I haven’t said anything. What gut would that do?”

  The bishop shrugged. “They say the sense of hearing works long after it seems the other senses aren’t functioning. Pete will listen to you better than anyone else, Molly—and you don’t hold back when it comes to telling him what to do.”

  Molly laughed despite her desperation. “Jah, that’s true.”

  He nodded toward her dinner box, which included a ham sandwich, a container of applesauce, and a couple of cookies. “Eat up, and then why don’t we head home? Tomorrow’s another day, a
nd everything looks better after a night’s rest. Pete’s going to be out cold all night, I imagine.”

  Even though she didn’t want to leave Pete alone in this strange, intimidating place, Jeremiah was right. Molly bit into the sandwich and realized she was famished.

  “What about Riley? How’s he doing?” she asked. “He was surely at Glenn’s house while they were working today, jah?”

  “He was, and he’s wandering from room to room at home now with a bewildered expression on his face, looking for Pete.” Jeremiah glanced at the monitors around them, gathering his thoughts. “When Pete comes around, I might ask the doctor if Riley can come for a visit—but we’ll take things as they come. The surgeon determined that Pete suffered a concussion, among other things, and he’ll need to be kept quiet and perfectly still for a while—without a big, busy dog jumping on the bed or begging him to play ball.”

  Molly nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich. “Riley’s very persuasive that way. He refuses to be ignored.”

  “He does. I bet if you came over and romped in the snow with him every now and again, he’d be a much happier dog.”

  It was a good idea, and Molly brightened. “I will—and I’ll bring Billy Jay to run him around. Pete’ll feel better knowing somebody’s playing with Riley.”

  While she finished her sandwich, Jeremiah walked around the bed for a closer look at his nephew. “Well, at least he didn’t land on his face. Pete often counts on his gut looks to get him what he wants—but don’t tell him I said that!”

  Molly laughed, and it made her feel better. “I tease him about that. Truth be told, his shaggy blond hair and daredevil smile suckered me in a long time ago—and I can’t wait to see that smile again.”

  “You will, Molly,” the bishop assured her. “Keep praying and believing. Ask and you’ll receive—knock and Pete will answer when he’s ready. He’s still in there behind this motionless face, waiting to come out of his temporary darkness. You’ll be the light of his life, you know.”

  As they left the hospital, Molly hoped the bishop was right. It was a short ride home in his rig, and she was grateful for his uplifting company—just as she was pleased to see her sister, Glenn, and Reuben at the kitchen table playing Monopoly when she arrived. Their faces reflected their concern as they looked up at her.

  “How is he?” Glenn asked.

  “You stayed at the hospital so long, we were wondering if something had gone wrong,” Marietta put in softly. “I left you a plate of supper in the oven.”

  Molly stepped up behind her sister’s chair to embrace her. “Denki for thinking of me—and Pete, too. He came through surgery all right, but he’s still heavily sedated and—and the doctor’s biggest concern is that he has a bad concussion. They couldn’t rouse him before they had to sedate him for surgery.”

  “After a fall like that, rest is the best thing for him,” Reuben remarked. He rolled the dice and slid his top hat token down the side of the game board to Marvin Gardens. “I’ve taken a tumble or two from a roof in my day. Wasn’t the most fun I’ve ever had, recovering from them, but I lived to tell about it. Pete will, too. He’s every bit as hardheaded as I am, you know.”

  Molly smiled in spite of her concerns, fetching her warm plate from the oven. As she sat down at the table, it occurred to her that the scene was a little cozier than usual—that a subtle shift had occurred in her absence. Instead of sitting across from each other in their usual places, Glenn was seated at the head of the table with Marietta close beside him on his left . . . the traditional places for a husband and wife. Reuben sat on Glenn’s other side, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. He focused on the piles of colored money neatly tucked under the game board in front of him.

  As Molly cut into her chicken breast with her fork, she also realized that the other three people at the table had chosen to play Monopoly because they were waiting up for her, to hear news of Pete. Their concern and dedication touched her. It was the sort of thing she expected of her twin, but she was surprised to find the Detweilers in the kitchen, as well—maybe because she wasn’t accustomed to having additional folks around who felt like . . . family.

  Marietta reached in front of Glenn to jab the board repeatedly near Reuben’s top hat. “Welcome to Marvin Gardens!” she crowed, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t wake the kids. “You owe me five hundred bucks in rent, Reuben!”

  “No way! That’s highway robbery!” Glenn’s dat shot back. “Show me where it says that on your property card.”

  Marietta arched her eyebrow at him. “Maybe you’d rather recount the number of spaces you traveled, then?” she teased, uncovering the dice. “Seems to me you were distracting us with your talk of falling off rooftops and you should’ve landed one space farther along, jah?”

  Reuben sighed dramatically. He smacked the Go to Jail square with his token before placing it in the opposite corner, where the jail was. “I can’t get anything past you, missy,” he muttered playfully. “Glenn, however, is clueless. He’s been so busy gawking at you, he hasn’t noticed that I’ve snuck a couple of ten-dollar bills from his stash. Serves him right for piling his money willy-nilly instead of organizing it nice and neat under the edge of the board, the way you and I have.”

  Reuben blithely returned the bills to his son’s disorganized cash stack. “Okay, I’ve confessed now. The game can go on.”

  Molly started laughing, and everyone else joined her, grateful for a moment of mirth on this day when such serious things had happened to Pete.

  It was also a moment of gratitude to God, as Molly saw it: Glenn’s dat, bless him, was sharp enough to be cheating at Monopoly. Not long ago, folks had been afraid Reuben’s mind was failing him, but now that he was surrounded by folks who were living their lives and loving again, his depression had lifted.

  Glenn, too, seemed to realize that he’d turned a corner emotionally. He playfully punched his father’s arm before rolling the dice to take his turn. “I suppose we can forgive you for that, Dat,” he remarked. He tapped his race car token along the board, passing Marietta’s thimble and landing on Park Place.

  “Finally, I can buy this property and complete my set!” he said as he pulled the money from his messy pile. “It’s late, but let’s keep playing so I can clean you two out and win this game. It feels gut to be having fun again.”

  Chapter 21

  Marietta hummed a carol as she spread pink peppermint frosting on the chocolate cake she’d baked early Tuesday morning. She’d agreed to take lunch to the work site so Molly could visit the hospital to see how Pete was doing, and the whole house shared the tranquil happiness her cooking brought her. Ordinarily, she and her sister would be working in the noodle factory, replenishing what they’d sold at The Marketplace on Saturday, but Pete’s accident had changed their day’s priorities. With Billy Jay in school, Levi napping in his basket, and Reuben helping Glenn at the Detweiler place, she was savoring some quiet time in the kitchen.

  As she snapped the plastic lid on the cake pan, she smiled at the baby. With wisps of dark hair framing his face and long, dark lashes curving on his pink cheeks, he was the image of his handsome dat.

  This is how it can be every day if you and Glenn get hitched.

  Marietta blinked. Ever since she’d received the birthday card declaring the Detweilers’ love, thoughts of a possible marriage had flirted with her. But it wasn’t her place to pursue that subject. Glenn was still grieving his wife and his mother. She’d thoroughly enjoyed watching his dark eyes sparkle during their Monopoly game, which he’d won around eleven o’clock last night.

  But he wasn’t out of the emotional woods yet. Pete’s accident had only added another layer of worry to the burden Glenn carried. He was a wonderful man and a fine father to his boys, but Marietta knew better than to get her hopes up anytime soon. Life had dealt him a difficult hand over the past months, and his new house didn’t guarantee that his dark days of despair were completely behind him.

  Mari
etta glanced at the kitchen clock. If she wanted to reach the construction site with the men’s lunch by noon, she needed to leave around eleven thirty. Before that, she had to allow time to hitch up the horse and load the containers of hot food in the buggy—and before those things could happen, she needed to feed and change Levi.

  Having a baby in the house had altered her and Molly’s routine more than she’d anticipated. Marietta adored Glenn’s boys, but each of them required time and attention that she and her sister had previously devoted to their noodle making. It went unsaid between them that their December sales at The Marketplace had been much lower than anticipated because of their youngest guests.

  If you marry—and if Molly marries—what will become of your business? Mamm ran it as an integral part of her household schedule for years, but she had the two of us helping her. And who knows whether the church leaders will even allow us to keep our store at The Marketplace after we tie the knot?

  As she stirred the big pot of chili on the stove, these thoughts spiraled in her mind without revealing any answers. Around ten thirty, Marietta eased Levi out of his basket, hoping he would remain in a sleepy state while she changed his diaper—but no. The wee boy let out a wail when she disturbed him, and with all his kicking and crying, it took her twice as long as usual to accomplish that single task. His bottle of goat’s milk was awaiting him in a pan of hot water on the stove, but every time she tried to pop the nipple into his open mouth, Levi turned his head and howled even louder.

  This is how it can be every day if you and Glenn get hitched.

  The words took on a different meaning this time. Deep down, Marietta doubted she would ever adjust to the strident sound of Levi’s crying. He would outgrow diapers and inexplicable upsets in time, but did she have the emotional fortitude to weather these daily ordeals? As the baby’s wails filled her previously serene kitchen, she quickly made a pacifier of sugar in a handkerchief, as Glenn had shown her, and placed the dampened bulb of it in Levi’s mouth.