Jenny knocked on her grandmother's door.
"Come in," she croaked.
Opening the door, Jenny peered inside the room. The blinds were shut, so it was dim, but she could see her grandmother sitting up in her bed, her back resting against the headboard.
"You sound awful."
"It's just a cold. You shouldn't be here."
"I've been around colds with the children," Jenny told her briskly. "It doesn't mean you automatically get one."
Walking over to the bed, she lay the back of her hand on her grandmother's forehead. "Oh, my, you're burning up," Jenny whispered, alarmed. "I'm going to get a thermometer."
"There's one in the cabinet in the bathroom there."
She'd never had reason to go into her grandmother's medicine cabinet before. Now, she saw the prescription bottles she'd never known Phoebe had. Quickly, she reached for the thermometer and shut the cabinet. No way she wanted her grandmother to think she was snooping and get upset with her.
When she returned with it and persuaded Phoebe to pop it into her mouth, Jenny found that her mother's intuition about how high her grandmother's temperature was based on her hand to forehead was correct: Phoebe's temp was 104.
"I think this is more than a cold."
Phoebe shook her head. "I'm going to take some aspirin and have a nap."
"I'll get the aspirin," Jenny said quickly. "You rest."
A nap? Phoebe taking a nap was as alarming as her having a temperature.
Hannah thought so, too, when she went to tell her.
"I think we should call her doctor."
Jenny bit her lip. "This is so hard. She's an adult. We can't treat her like a child." She sighed. "I better get back with the aspirin. I wouldn't want her to think we're out here talking about her."
"Since when is it wrong to care about someone?" Hannah wanted to know. "I don't get upset when someone does that with me."
"You mean like you immediately listened to us when we wanted you to go to doctor the other day when the baby was kicking under your ribs?" Jenny asked her as she held a glass under the running faucet,
Hannah sighed. "You had to bring that up, didn't you?"
Jenny added some ice to the glass of water and returned to Phoebe's room.
Her grandmother sat up when Jenny entered the room. She took the aspirin and drained the glass of water. "I'll be fine after my nap."
Jenny wasn't so sure about that but she stayed silent. "I think I'll stick around and help Hannah with some cleaning. You let me know if you need anything."
Nodding, Phoebe lay down and Jenny could hear her deep, even breathing before she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She went in search of Hannah and found her sweeping the floor in the living room. Or rather, Hannah was leaning against the wall and wiping her brow.
"Hot work," she said with a sigh when Jenny entered the room. "Pregnancy and late summer don't mix well."
Jenny reached for the broom but Hannah kept her hold on it. "Sit down and put your feet up. I can finish this."
"No, it's my house. You have enough to do."
For a minute they wrestled with the broom and then they stopped and stared at each other. Jenny was the first to burst into laughter and then Hannah joined her.
"Here, you win," said Hannah, wiping her eyes. "Far be it from me to keep you from your housecleaning mania." She sank down onto the sofa and sighed as she put her feet up.
"I know it's not easy being pregnant right now. Maybe it never is, no matter what season it is when you get close to delivery. I thought I'd stick around and help you while Phoebe naps, see how she's feeling when she wakes up. I'm wondering if I should take her to see the doctor."
"You think it's more than a cold, too."
Jenny nodded. "I do."
As if on cue, they heard Phoebe coughing.
"She sounds worse than last night," Hannah said.
Jenny swept faster. "I'm going to do the kitchen, too. You stay right there."
"I'll owe you."
Jenny turned so Hannah wouldn't see her wince. Everyone just seemed to assume she would get pregnant. What were they thinking? Hannah knew as much as Phoebe about her injuries, about what the doctors had said about possible repercussions with the internal injuries; Jenny's doctor had said only time would tell if she could get pregnant.
As Jenny swept the kitchen, she kept hearing Phoebe's coughing and wondered if she was getting any rest at all. She had her answer when Phoebe opened the door and peered out. Her eyes were glassy and her face flushed. "Where is Hannah?"
"In the living room resting. Did you need her?"
"No, I don't want to take a chance of getting her sick in her condition. I was going to get a glass of water in the kitchen."
Jenny touched Phoebe's forehead. It felt hotter than before. "I'll get the water for you but let's take your temp again first."
It had gone up another degree.
"Grandmother, I think it's time we took you to see the doctor."
The older woman opened her mouth, then closed it. She walked over to the bed and sat. "Fine."
Like her grandmother saying she'd take a nap in the middle of the day, her acquiescence was totally unexpected.
Jenny rushed to the other room and found Hannah staring at the ceiling as she lay on the sofa. "I can't sleep," she complained. "I keep thinking of all the things I need to do."
"You can call Phoebe's doctor and tell him we're bringing her in."
Hannah sat up. "She's worse?"
"And she agreed to go. That scares me. I expected to have an argument."
"
Ya.
I would have, too. I'll go call now."
Jenny returned to her grandmother's room and found her still sitting in the same place.
"I'm going to get Matthew to hitch up the buggy," Jenny said quickly. "You stay right here and when I come back I'll help you get dressed."
"I can get dressed by myself," Phoebe grumbled.
But when Jenny returned, Phoebe hadn't moved.
"Back so soon?" she asked, looking a little bewildered.
"It's just that you're not feeling well," Jenny soothed, reaching for a dress. "Here, I'll help you."
She'd always thought that the name Phoebe suited her grandmother for she was a tiny, birdlike woman who flitted around with such energy and bright-eyed enthusiasm. Now Phoebe seemed even smaller and more frail. She'd never seemed old.
Until now.
Even though she was sick, Phoebe insisted on going through the laborious motions of brushing and binding up her waistlong hair and putting on her
kapp.
But the effort cost her. By the time she finished she was white and her breathing was raspy.
There was a knock on the door. "Phoebe, are you ready?" Matthew called out.
Jenny opened the door. "She's ready."
"I'm sorry for all the trouble," Phoebe said as she walked past him.
"It's no trouble at all," he told her, gallantly taking her arm and walking with her.
When she stopped and started coughing, a hacking cough that left her leaning against the doorframe, he scooped her up and carried her to the buggy.
"I can walk."
Matthew slanted a look at Jenny. "I've heard that before."
"I—haven't been—carried in years. I remember when—" she broke off and began coughing again.
"Sounds like it might be a good story," he said as he lifted her onto the backseat of the buggy. "But I think you better save your breath and tell me sometime later."
"I think we should take her straight to the emergency room," he whispered to Jenny as they rounded the buggy.
"She agreed to go to the doctor, so we're taking her there. If the doctor thinks she should go to the ER, we'll go there."
The news wasn't good.
"Phoebe has pneumonia," the doctor told them. "I'm recommending that she go to the hospital."
"No hospital," Phoebe said firmly. "Where do you think I got it?"
"Now, you don't know that."
Phoebe sniffed. "No one is sick around me but a hospital's a hotbed of germs. I bet I got it there when I went to the emergency room. I want to go home." She looked at Jenny, then Matthew. "I want to go home."
"I don't think that's a good idea," the doctor interjected.
"They'll take care of me at home," Phoebe insisted. "I don't have to go to the hospital just because I have pneumonia. Fannie Mae had it last year and she didn't go to the hospital."
"I'd prefer it, considering the heart condition."
When Phoebe just continued to stare at him, he sighed, reached into his desk drawer, pulled out a prescription pad, and started writing. "I'll have the nurse come in and talk to you."
"I can take care of you," Jenny said slowly, an idea forming. "But you'll have to move into the
dawdi haus."
She raised her hand when Phoebe started to object."Remember Hannah's condition. We can't risk her getting sick."
Phoebe looked at Matthew.
"She makes a good point, Phoebe. And you know we love you and will do anything we can for you."
Casting her eyes heavenward, Phoebe nodded. "You are one stubborn woman, Jenny Rebecca."
Jenny just smiled and held out her hand for the prescriptions. "Gee, wonder where I got that?" She stood. "Now, let's get you home."
T
he
dawdi haus
hadn't been used since Chris had stayed there when he first came to Paradise.
But nothing sat around unkempt on an Amish farm, so it only needed "a lick and a promise." Joshua swept, Mary wiped down the kitchen and the inside of the refrigerator, and Annie helped Jenny put fresh linens on the bed. Matthew went off to get the prescriptions filled and Chris helped by taking over Joshua and Matthew's chores.
Hannah contributed by sending over a big pot of chicken soup.
As quickly as she could, Jenny got her grandmother dressed in a nightgown and tucked into bed. Matthew returned with the prescriptions. Phoebe took her pills with a glass of water, tried a few spoons of soup, then confessed that she just wanted to sleep for a while.
Jenny leaned down and kissed her forehead and left the room. She closed the connecting door to the kitchen so that the noise of the family supper didn't disturb her grandmother and vowed to get her to eat more soup when she woke up.
Annie was the last to come to the table. "
Grossmudder's
not going to eat with us?"
"She's not feeling well enough. I'm going to take some more of Hannah's soup in to her when she wakes up."
"Maybe we can make her some Three Bear Soup tomorrow," Annie said, wrapping her arms around Jenny. "That always makes me feel better."
"We'll do that. Now let's sit down and eat supper."
The girls did the dishes after supper so Jenny went to see how her grandmother was feeling. Phoebe was still asleep and when Jenny lightly touched her forehead, it was burning hot.She thought about waking her and getting her to take some medicine for her fever but it was too early.
She pulled a rocking chair over and sat and watched her grandmother while the sunset lit up the simple curtains at the window. Phoebe stirred and pulled at the quilt on the bed.
"Cold," she muttered, half awake.
"I'll get another quilt," Jenny told her and she got up and went upstairs for a quilt. When she returned, she spread it over her grandmother and tucked it around her shoulders.
Phoebe woke again a little while later. Jenny had turned on a battery-operated lantern beside the bed and it cast a soft glow in the room. The older woman blinked as she looked around the room.
Then she glanced down at the quilt. "It's the one I sent you when you were in the hospital."
Jenny nodded and smiled. "The note you sent with it said, 'Come. Heal.' Now you've come to my home to heal."
"Thank goodness it's just pneumonia. I don't know how you got through all those surgeries. How you kept your spirits up." Her coughing started again and by the time it stopped she was breathless.
Jenny gave her a sip of water and patted her shoulder. "I'm going to get you some soup. Is there anything else you'd like?"
"Do you have any orange juice?"
"I do. I'll be right back."
Matthew came into the kitchen as Jenny was pouring the juice.
"The
kinner
are in bed. I told them you'd come up later and kiss them goodnight."
"I'd better go now. I don't know when I'll be able to later."She turned the flame lower under the pan of soup. "Can you watch this for a minute?"
Matthew looked at it dubiously. He had the typical Amish
mann's
aversion to cooking.
"It'll be fine for a few minutes. I just don't like to walk away and leave something unattended on the stove."
He nodded, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the kitchen table.
"
Mamm?"
Mary smiled up at her sleepily. "How is
Urgrossmudder?"
Jenny stroked Mary's cheek. "She's very sick, sweetheart. But I'm hoping she'll feel better soon."
"Give her a kiss for me."
"I will. Goodnight. See you in the morning."
Annie was reading a book when Jenny peeked into her room. "Time to go to sleep now," she told her, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
"One more page?"
It was a familiar question. "One more page."
Luke was already asleep, one foot hanging off the bed, uncovered. Jenny tucked his foot under his quilt. He woke for a moment and grinned at her.
"Love-you-'night," he mumbled, giving her a silly grin, and then he turned over and fell asleep again.
"Love you too," she told him with a laugh. She tousled his hair, pulled the quilt up over his shoulders, and then left the room.
When she walked into the kitchen, Jenny smiled when she saw that Matthew was engrossed in the farming magazine spread open on the table.
Then she realized that something was sputtering in the pan on the stove.
"Oh no! You were supposed to watch the soup!" she cried as she rushed to turn the heat off.
Matthew looked up. "Huh?"
"The soup!" she said, holding out the pan to show him that only an inch or two was left. Her shoulders slumped. "Now what am I supposed to do?"
"I'm sorry."
Jenny rubbed at her forehead. "I need to get some soup into
Grossmudder.
This is all I have."
She pawed through the freezer and came up with a container labeled "Three Bear Soup." It was beef based, not made of chicken broth. But maybe it didn't matter. Maybe all that mattered was that it was warm and healthy.
The trouble was, the container was frozen solid. At that moment, she wished for electricity more than she ever had. She didn't mind that they didn't have television or even air conditioning when it got miserably hot canning the harvest from her kitchen garden.
But right now she wanted a microwave so much. Then she could hit "defrost" and thaw the soup, warm it up, and it didn't matter if a husband didn't pay attention—the soup would never burn away while he sat inches away from it and read his magazine.
She plunked the container in a pan and went to the sink to run water in it. Then she placed it on the stove and turned the flame up beneath it. This time, no matter what happened, she wasn't leaving to do anything else.
"Look, is there anything I can do?"
Sighing, she turned and shook her head. "No. Well, maybe you could go tell
Grossmudder
it'll be a few more minutes."
She watched him shift his feet and cast a nervous glance at the door.
"Just knock on the door and call in to her. You don't need to go in—you shouldn't go in her room."
"Oh,
gut."
Jenny got out a tray, placed a plate with some crackers on it, and filled a glass with orange juice.