Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (65 page)

Luke pulled the mail from the box and read the return address on each envelope. He looked around the property for his wife and spotted her in the garden.

Walking toward the garden, he opened the letter from her doctor’s office. “Mary Yoder, please be advised that you have missed your last two appointments. We have concerns about your rehabilitation and wellness program and would appreciate it if you would contact our office at your earliest convenience.” Luke mumbled the words and closed the letter.

When he came to the edge of the garden, Mary saw him and stood straight, holding her back. “I’ve been at this all day. But here’s the deal, I’m doing the planting, and you’ll do the weeding, right?”

Luke held the letter out to her. “What’s this?”

She took it and glanced over it. “It … it must be a mistake.”

“It still has you listed as Mary Yoder.”

She nodded. “I saw that.”

“You’re keeping up with those visits and everything, right?”

“Oh, Luke, I’m seeing the midwife now that I’m expecting, and there’s no reason to keep going to those expensive doctors for them just to tell me I’m healthy. Ya?”

“Well, it’s different with you, and I don’t know …”

“Luke, I’m fine. You know I am. The doctor has given me a clean bill of health over and over again. It’s time to forget the days of the accident and live like they never happened.”

“Mary Yoder?” He lifted the letter from her hand and read it again.

“Mary Lapp, thank you very much.” She washed her dirty hands off in the pail she’d been using to water her newly planted crop. Wiping them on her apron, she gazed up at Luke. “Unless you care to change your last name instead.”

Luke scratched his forehead. “It just seems they’d get the name right.”

She grabbed the pail and stood. “It also seems you wouldn’t walk around in wet clothes.”

“What?” He looked up from the paper just in time to see his wife throw water on him. “Mary Yoder!”

She burst into laughter and ran from him. “Who?” She grabbed the hose and held it toward him. “Even my husband calls me by my maiden name?”

“It was a mistake.”

“Ya, and so was this.”

Water smacked Luke in the face, and he charged her and wrestled the hose from her, all the while enjoying her laughter. She’d shed too many tears afraid she might never get pregnant. This new joy was a welcome thing.

When he had control of the hose, he drenched her good before she slid down on the grass. He dropped the hose and ran to her. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Laughing, she grabbed a handful of loose dirt and tried to rub it in his face. He pinned her hands to the ground, chortling before they both grew serious as he lowered his lips to hers. “It’s definitely Mary Lapp,” Luke mumbled. “I remember that clearly now.”

W
ith Kevin and Lissa in tow, Hannah entered the church doors, returning a dozen greetings. She made her way to their children’s church classrooms and signed them in before giving them hugs and heading for the sanctuary. The place wasn’t very churchlike from the outside. It had once been a shopping complex, but that was impossible to tell once you were inside the renovated building. The praise music filled the air. A hint of unease clung to her as she maneuvered through the place without Zabeth.

She’d already arranged for Vicki and Nina to get the children after church and take them home. Either she or Martin would pick them up later. She took her seat in what had been Zabeth’s and her spot. Martin was behind the keyboard, totally absorbed with the band. Although she missed a lot of Sundays due to her work at the clinic, she loved most parts of going to church here: the teaching, the music, the prayer time, communion, watching the altar calls, and the friendliness of the members. Other parts she could do without. Actually there was only one other part: the clothing worn by a lot of the women, especially the ones around her age. Jeans, short skirts, and tight tops seemed not to bother anyone but Hannah. But if men came here to worship God, why would a woman dress in such a way as to totally distract them? Wasn’t God allowed one day, in His own house? She just didn’t get it.

Then again, she figured it was her problem. She couldn’t even manage to wear her hair loose, so what did she know? It’d taken her far too long to become comfortable wearing the mandatory scrubs when doing clinical rotations for nursing school.

Martin looked her way and raised his brows, showing his surprise. If he thought her making it to church when she was on call was unusual, she might need to get the ammonium carbonate out of her medical bag for the next shocker.

When the musicians moved to their seats for the preaching, Martin headed her way as he’d done every Sunday since last Christmas. As he took a seat, she could smell his cologne.

He placed his arm on the back of the bench. “I’m glad you made it. You doing okay?”

“Sure. You?”

“Yeah, I am. Listen, I’m having a memorial type gathering at my place this Friday. I can count on you being there, right?”

“For Zabeth?”

“Yeah, just a time with the band, singing her favorite songs.”

“That should only take about three days.”

He coughed into his hand to hide his laughter.

Howard, the man in front of them, turned around, smiling. “We know how to separate the
youth
when they get rowdy during service.”

Martin pointed his thumb at Hannah, like it was all her fault. The man chuckled and turned back around. She folded her arms across her waist and frowned at Martin.

Pastor Steve opened the service, the PowerPoint slide behind him declaring the subject in bold, black letters. “Today’s topic is intimacy and sexuality.”

Hannah’s breath caught. Martin leaned in, rubbing her shoulder sympathetically. “Breathe, phone girl. It’s a five-part series,” he whispered through his laughter.

She swallowed, wondering what all would be covered from a pulpit.

The pastor unbuttoned his bright red sports jacket. “Intimacy can be thought of as
in to me see
. And we let very few people really see who we are, but when we’re a couple under God’s direction, we long for that. But how do we get it?”

Hannah’s cheeks burned mild to flaming as the service went on, but the teaching was insightful and filled with humor. As the pastor brought the service to a close, Martin got up to head for the keyboard. Before leaving the pew, he pointed at her. “You stay.”

She gave a nod. When the service ended, she hung around in the sanctuary, chatting with people while waiting for Martin to finish playing the last songs. She was totally engrossed in answering some questions from a grandmother-to-be when she felt the warmth of Martin’s hand on the small of her back.

“You about ready?” he asked.

The woman took her cue, thanked Hannah, and left.

He studied her, not looking his normal, confident self. “I’m starving, and you’re not going to make me eat Sunday lunch alone, right?”

“Actually, no.”

“Wow, can’t say I saw that one coming.”

Hannah straightened his shirt collar. “We need to talk.” She patted his chest. “I brought us a picnic lunch.”

He looked suspicious. “Where to?”

“Somewhere no one will hear you screaming at me.”

“Hmm, I don’t like the sound of this.” They headed toward the exit. “There are picnic tables beside my office. No one will be anywhere near there on a Sunday.” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “I’ll drive and then bring you back here to pick up your car.”

She dangled her keys. “I’m the one with the food. I’ll drive and bring you back here.”

He got in the car and made himself comfortable, punching the radio stations and making smart remarks about her driving. His sarcasm kept things lively from the time she got into the car until she pulled into his office parking lot. The manicured lawns and walls of windows gave the one-story, redbrick building a very classy look.

She put the stick shift in reverse and set the brake. “Nice place.”

“Not bad.” They opened their car doors in unison and got out. “I’m looking at leasing a new building next year since we’re outgrowing this place, provided I pass my engineering exams in October.”

“Have you turned in your board application forms?”

“Yep.”

They chatted over little things while covering the table with a cloth, setting out the food, and eating lunch, only pausing to say a prayer before eating. The conversation meandered throughout the meal, but when he tossed his napkin onto his paper plate, an obvious transition took place.

“Okay, I’m full and completely satisfied, so what’s on your mind, Esther?”

“Esther?” Hannah repeated before she realized he was referring to Queen Esther and her appeal for her people. “You’re no king, and I’m not afraid anyone will lop off my head.” She gathered the dirty plates and put them back in the basket.

He chuckled. “So what gives?”

After putting the rest of the items into the basket, she took a seat. “You do, I hope.”

“What do you want?”

“You to get Faye into rehab and go to counseling sessions with her. Talk your dad into doing phone sessions on a regular basis. He’s got the money. Get him to fly here for a few weeks. We need to help Faye get free of this unfair burden of guilt she carries. Shift the focus from her being the black sheep to the reality that she’s a victim in this too.”

He sighed. “Hannah, sweetheart, your motives are good, but Faye is a lost cause.”

“I don’t think so, but this isn’t just about her. I mean, I’ve seen her at least three times a week since I met her. Under that veneer and deeper than her drug use, she’s really sweet and hurting. I think you have enough influence on her that if you pushed in the right ways, she’d go into rehab, but—”

“No, she won’t. Underneath it, she’s an addict, Hannah. I’m sorry. That’s just the way it is. She’s not willing to go to rehab or counseling. And even if she would, I’m not going with her, and I’m certainly not asking my dad to get involved.”

“Your dad wouldn’t even call during a session to help his daughter?”

Martin stood, picked up the basket, and walked toward the car. “You’d have to know him.”

She followed him. “What’s he like?”

“Distinguished, filled with charisma, and bitter at Faye. Your plan isn’t going to work. Faye has to want this, and she doesn’t.”

Hannah opened the trunk of her car. “But if you presented it …”

He placed the basket in the trunk. “No human can control another one’s will. She doesn’t want help.”

“Sure she does. She just might not realize it yet, but if you—”

He slammed the trunk shut. “You’re the one who …” His words came out mocking and condescending before he stopped. He walked away from her before turning. “I’m not willing to spend time and energy to land in the same freaking place with her I’ve been in for the past sixteen years—only to fail again. Do you know what it takes to be my age and run a business like this?” He waved his hand toward the building. “I have forty employees who all have personal issues, but at least they fight for success. Faye has no fight in her, and that’s not our fault. The answer is no.”

She stepped in closer. “And if you can do that for your employees, think what you could do for your sister. And you.”

“Me? Are you saying I need help?”

“I … I’m saying if Faye gets help, it’ll help you too.”

He raked his hands through his hair. “There’s nothing to help. I resent you implying that I need
Faye’s
help.”

He was yelling at her, and she knew he’d rather fight with her than for his sister.

“I’ll keep Kevin and Lissa during every session. It won’t be easy, but it’s doable. You and your father haven’t really tried. She’s been left alone. You were a kid. It wasn’t your fault, but it’s time to—”

“You haven’t been here but two years, and you have it all figured out—who’s right, who’s wrong, how you can fix it. Just butt out, Hannah.”

“Fine.” She opened her car door.

“Zabeth would never ask this of me.”

“She was a mother to you. I want more. I want what you can’t give me unless you can reach past your apathy and anger and help your sister.” She angled her head, catching his eye. “Is that what you want from this relationship, for me not to ask more of you than Zabeth?”

An expression she couldn’t read crossed his face. “No, of course not. Although a little of Zabeth’s nondemanding ways would be appreciated about now.”

“She wanted you and Faye and your dad—her family—to find a resolution to the nightmare that stole everything. All I’m asking is that you go with Faye and try to find some answers.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off. “Why?” he shouted at the sky before facing her. “Why is jumping through hoops for Faye so important?”

In spite of his sarcastic tone, it was a fair question, but she could feel embarrassment burn her skin at the thought of answering.

She swallowed hard. “It’s not just for Faye that I want this, or for you.
I
need this.”

“You?”

Hating that she’d backed into a corner where the only way out was to share things she didn’t want to, she made herself speak. “Look, I know this is unfair, but I need to know that when I make stupid decisions and you get caught in them, you’ll reach out to me. Your sister made a mistake, and it feels like you just washed your hands of her.”

He closed the distance between them. “That’s ridiculous, and you’re not making sense. You’d never do anything as—”

She placed her hand over his mouth, unable to hear his declaration of faith in her. “Everybody does hurtful stuff, Martin. I need this from you.” Lowering her hand, she forced the next words out. “I never told you, but I became pregnant from the attack, and I tried to hide the whole thing from Paul.” She crossed her arms, hating that her eyes were misting. “I knew if he ever found out about the rape, he’d end our relationship. He did, within two minutes of learning the truth. The baby died, and I came here.” She shuddered. “Your sister made a mistake and has paid too high a price.”

He took her hand into his. “I’m sorry Paul was a jerk. And I’m sorry for what you went through.” He paused before giving a nod. “I see your point that it’s easier to walk away than anything else.” He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do to get Faye into counseling, but you can’t get upset when this plan does nothing to help her.”

“It’ll work. I know it will.”

He rolled his eyes, took a step back, and opened the driver’s door for her. “From now on, I’ll know to beware of beautiful girls carrying loaded picnic baskets.”

“Yeah?” She laughed.

He bent, giving her a kiss.

She caressed his face. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s what you say now. Just wait until it all blows up in our face.”

“It won’t.”