A Merry Heart (11 page)

Lewis turned away from the bed and frowned. “You all talk like Papa has already died. Shouldn’t we be praying for our daed’s healing instead of talking about how we’ll get through it if he dies?”

“Of course we should be praying,” Anna was quick to say. She didn’t want to see any of her sons at odds with one another, especially not when their father might be dying.
No matter what happens, I’ll have to be strong
, she determined in her heart.
With God’s help I will set a good example to all my children and keep trusting Him
.

The waiting room was empty when Miriam entered. She was glad for the chance to be alone. For the next half hour, she silently paced, going from the window to the doorway and back again, pleading with God to heal her father.

At one point, Miriam stopped in front of the window
and stared at the street below. She saw some cars parked along the curb. . .several more driving past. Some children rode by on bicycles. A bird fluttered past the window and landed in a nearby tree. The world was still going about its business as usual. It was a world that she and her Amish family had chosen to be separate from based on the biblical teachings of nonconformity.

Yet now, due to unwelcome circumstances, they were being forced to accept the modern ways in order to provide her father with the best medical care available. But would modern medicine be enough? Could the doctors save Papa’s life and bring him back to them? If by some miracle he did get well enough to come home, would he ever be whole and complete, able to work on the farm again?

The waiting room door suddenly swung open, interrupting Miriam’s thoughts and halting her prayers. Jonas and Andrew stood in the doorway, their faces pale and somber. “Papa’s gone,” Andrew mumbled.

She stared at him numbly. “What?”

“He said, ‘Papa is gone,’ ” Jonas spoke up.
“Er is nimmi am scharfe.”

Papa is gone. He’s no longer breathing
. The dreaded words resounded in Miriam’s head like a woodpecker tapping on a tree. “Is it true?” she asked, looking back at Andrew.

He nodded. “Jah,
sis awwer waricklich so—
yes, it’s really so.”

Miriam clenched her fingers into tight little balls as she held her arms rigidly at her side. Yet again her prayers had gone unanswered. Once more her heart would ache with pain. It wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair! Without a word to either of her brothers, she dashed from the room.

Tears blinded Miriam’s vision as she stumbled down the hospital corridor. Her only thought was to run away—to escape this awful place of death, though she had no idea where she was going. She passed the elevator and ran down two flights of stairs. She flung open the outside door and was about to step into the evening air, when she ran into a strong pair of arms.

“Hey, fair lady! You almost knocked me off my feet.”

Miriam looked up into the deep blue eyes of Nick McCormick. They were mesmerizing eyes, and she had to force herself to look away.

“We seem to keep bumping into each other, don’t we, Miriam?”

Knowing she needed to put some space between herself and the tall, blond-haired man who stood in front of her, blocking the exit door, she tried to skirt around him. “If—if you’ll excuse me, I was on my way out.”

“I can see that. You almost ran me over.” Nick squinted as he took hold of her arm. “I didn’t notice before, but I can see that you’re upset. Is there something I can do to help?”

“I—I just need some fresh air.”

“No problem.” Nick moved to one side and opened the door so that Miriam could walk through.

Once outside, she took several deep breaths, allowing the cool air to fill her lungs and clear her head, then she hurried away.

“Slow down. What’s your hurry?” Nick called as he quickened his steps to keep up with Miriam.

She halted and turned to face him. “I—I thought I was alone. I mean, I didn’t know you had followed me.”

“Do you mind?”

“Don’t you have business at the hospital?”

Nick shrugged. “I was there to cover a story about an old man who was beaten and robbed at a mini-mart.”

“Then maybe you should—”

“It can wait.” Since Nick was in no hurry to begin his interview, he actually welcomed this little interruption. “I think maybe you need someone to talk to right now.”

“Front-page headlines or a back-page article?” she asked in a sarcastic tone.

“You insult my integrity, fair lady. I have no intention of interviewing you, so you can delete that thought right now. I just figured you might need a shoulder to cry on and maybe a little heartfelt sympathy.”

Miriam sniffed. “What makes you think I need any sympathy?”

Nick reached out and, using his thumb, wiped away the tears that had dripped onto her cheeks; then he reached into his pocket and retrieved a hankie. “You’ve obviously been crying,” he said, handing it to her.

Miriam blew her nose on the hankie and handed it back to him. “My—my father just died of a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but shouldn’t you be with your family at a time like this?”

“Probably so, but I—I needed to be alone.”

“You want to be alone in your misery, is that it?”

Miriam began walking briskly again, but Nick was not to be put off. Despite her claim of wanting to be alone, he was sure she needed some support, so keeping in step with her, he offered his arm.

She declined with a shake of her head.

“Let’s go somewhere for a cup of coffee,” he suggested. “It might help if you tell me what happened and talk about the way you’re feeling right now.”

“I told you already—”

“Yes, I know. You’d rather be alone. Maybe that’s how you think you feel, but I’ll bet if you searched your heart you would realize that what you really need is someone to talk to.” Nick took hold of her arm. “I promise not to include our conversation in my next article on the Amish—and I definitely won’t take any pictures.”

She released a deep sigh and gave a quick nod.

The small café Nick chose was a few blocks from the hospital, and it was nearly empty when they stepped inside. They took a seat at a booth in the far corner, and Nick ordered them each a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie.

Miriam declined the pie, saying she wasn’t hungry, but Nick insisted that she needed the nourishment and said she would probably feel better if she ate something.

Miriam finally gave in and ate the pie, realizing that she was a bit hungry after all.

“Feeling better?” Nick asked, as he stared at her from across the table.

She nodded. “At least my stomach does. I had no supper tonight. After school let out, I stopped to see my sister-in-law for a few minutes. I planned to be home in plenty of time to help Mom with supper, but then my brother Lewis came by and told us that Papa had collapsed while he was at work in
the fields. We rushed to the hospital, and—well, you know the rest.”

Miriam blinked back tears and took a deep breath. It turned into a sob. She couldn’t believe she was sitting here in a café with a man she barely knew, pouring out her heart to him. Maybe that was why she felt free to do it—because she didn’t really know him. He had no expectations of her. He would make no demands on her emotionally.

Nick reached across the table and took her hand, and she made no effort to stop him. The comfort he offered felt good. It was something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I think I understand how you’re feeling right now,” he said. “Several years ago, I lost my dad when his car was involved in an accident on the interstate. I was an only child, and Mom and I had it pretty rough for a while.”

“How did you manage?”

“It was hard. We lived with my grandparents for a few years. They looked after me while Mom went back to school for some training. She became a nurse, and then she was able to support us by working at a hospital in Chicago. That’s where I’m from.” Nick stared out the window. “Those were tough times, but I think they helped to strengthen me.”

“Where’s your mother now?” Miriam asked.

“Still living in Chicago. When I was fifteen, she remarried. I never got along well with her new husband, so after I finished high school, I went off to college, majored in journalism, and worked at several small newspapers after I graduated. When the newspaper in Lancaster offered me a job, I took it.” Nick winked at her. “And you know the rest of the story.”

Miriam’s cheeks warmed. It had been so long since any man had looked at her the way Nick was looking at her now, and she’d forgotten how pleasant it could feel. With her heart aching so, his attention was like a healing balm. Nick had actually made Miriam forget her grief for a few brief moments, and she appreciated it. “Do—do you live in Lancaster alone, or are you—?”

“Married?”

She nodded, wondering what had caused her to be so bold or why she cared whether he was married or not. She felt confused and frightened by the feelings he generated in her, and she quickly pulled her hand out of his, nervously reaching up to straighten her head-covering.

Nick laughed. “No, I’m not married. It’s not that I have anything against the state of matrimony. Guess I’ve just never met a woman who captured my heart enough to make me want to settle down and start a family.” He winked again. “Of course, any woman who could put up with me would have to be a real gem.”

Miriam smiled in spite of her sadness over losing Papa. “I think I should get back to the hospital now. My family might think I’ve deserted them.”

Nick nodded with a sympathetic expression.

“Thank you for your kindness. I do feel a little better after talking to you, but I know the days ahead will be difficult ones.” She gulped as a new realization swept over her. “I—I don’t know how we will manage without Papa.”

“I suspect you’ll get through it, Miriam. I don’t know you well, but I get the feeling that you’re a strong woman—one with a determined heart.”

She nodded. “My three brothers will help out, and Mom won’t have to support herself. Of course, I’ll be there to help with some money, too.”

“I don’t imagine an Amish teacher makes much, though.”

The magic of the moment was suddenly gone, and Miriam’s mind came back into proper focus. This man was a reporter. He didn’t care about her as a person. He probably just wanted to satisfy his curiosity. “I make enough,” she muttered.

“I meant no harm in asking about your wages,” Nick said, lifting one hand as though asking for a truce. “I was only trying to show my concern for your situation, and I was about to say that if there’s ever anything I can do to help you or your family, feel free to call my office at the newspaper.”

“It’s kind of you to offer,” Miriam said, her voice softening some, “but—”

“You’re not willing to ask favors of a worldly English man?”

“It’s not that—I do appreciate your offer,” she stammered. “If I should ever need your help, I’ll let you know.”

Nick smiled as she stood. “Guess I’d better pay for our eats; then I’ll walk you back to the hospital.”

“Really, there’s no need for that. I can find my own way.”

“Have you forgotten that I have an interview at the hospital? I was going in as you were going out.”

“Okay.”

The walk back to the hospital was silent. When they entered the building, Miriam turned to Nick and said, “Thanks again for your kindness.”

“It was my pleasure, Miriam.” He turned toward the information desk, then looked back again. “Don’t forget my offer of help should you ever need a listening ear. Just call the
Daily Express
and ask for Nick McCormick.”

T
he three days following Papa’s death were difficult to get through. After the funeral director had done what was necessary to prepare the body for burial and had returned it to the Stoltzfus home, Miriam and her family dressed Papa in his burial clothes. For the next three days, friends and family came to the home for the viewing.

That had been difficult enough, but Miriam wondered how she would ever get through Papa’s funeral. She had never lost anyone so close to her before. When Grandma Gehman died, Miriam had only been five years old. Grandpa Gehman, who had moved to Illinois shortly after his wife’s death, had passed on nearly ten years ago, when Miriam was still a teenage girl. She had never been close to her maternal grandfather and didn’t know him that well. Her paternal grandparents were still living, though their health had failed in the last few years. Miriam figured it wouldn’t be long before they were gone, too.

Papa’s somber funeral service began early in the morning and was held in the Stoltzfus home. Miriam, dressed all in black, as were the other family members, was relieved that
she had managed to get through the ordeal without falling apart. She was determined to be strong for her mother and not give in to the tears pushing against her eyelids, for if Mom saw her daughter crying, she was sure to fall apart.

After the funeral was over, the procession to the cemetery followed, and a short time later, Miriam huddled with her family and friends to watch as Papa’s plain pine box was taken from the horse-drawn hearse and set in place at the burial site. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of her final look at Papa’s face before the lid on the coffin had been closed. Though the local undertaker had done a fine job, Miriam’s father no longer looked like himself, and the stark reality that Papa was gone was almost more than she could bear.