Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (81 page)

Paul nodded. “Look, regardless of how you feel about me, the clinic I work at is a wonderful facility and can help her, but a hospital is a mistake for a lot of reasons. The coldness of an institution will push her closer to the edge, and they’ll start pumping meds in her left and right.”

“Push her closer? Were you out here today?”

Paul studied her. “Are sarcasm and anger your only ways of communicating nowadays?”

To you? Yes
.

He stood calm and reserved, obviously waiting for her to give an answer he was willing to work with.

After his help with Sarah just now, she should probably apologize for her tone. Bitterly opposed to that idea, she gave a nod. “Noted.” She drew a breath and willed herself to find her nice voice.

Paul shifted. “Look, I shouldn’t have said that about your dad and you earlier. And you have every right to be angry with me.”

“Contrary to how I sound, I’m really not interested in venting my anger. All I want to do is help Sarah and get out of here, but you had no right to pass my number to anyone without asking me first.”

“Your dad sent word through Luke that they wanted to locate you and had received a letter when your aunt died that gave him an idea where you were. Since I knew how to take that bit of piecemeal info and find you for them, I did.”

She blinked. “My Daed?”

Paul nodded. “I was surprised too. Look, I was wrong to leave that night without hearing you out. I’m asking you to forgive me.”

She shrugged. “Until arriving back here, I thought I had. But now it seems none of the prayers covered actually having to see you.”

“I did come back for you.”

“Don’t.” She held up her hand. “
If
you came back, you came back too late.”

They stood in Gram’s yard looking at each other as if they were strangers—no, it was worse. She saw a man she’d once thought was worthy of her giving up everything just to be with him. There was no telling what he was thinking, but if love was blind, what was happening between them now was more like a piece-by-piece dissection under a high-powered magnifying glass.

He pulled out his billfold and passed her a business card. “I have a counseling license and work at the Better Path. It offers an array of helps for people.”

“You’re a counselor?” She narrowed her eyes, trying not to gape at him. “This is the more suitable career that your church agrees with? You delved further into psychology, and they agreed with it more than social work?” The last time she’d tried to make contact with Paul, some young woman, maybe even Dorcas, told her that he had to make a career change to please the church leaders. The disbelief in her voice mocked his choice of a profession, and she didn’t even try to cover it.

Paul shook his head—a slow, resigned type of shake—as if she were too much of a pain to deal with. “You know, I really am trying—” He stopped short when her phone rang.

She pulled it out of her dress pocket. The caller ID said it was Martin. Ignoring Paul, she pushed the green icon. “Hello.”

“Hey, sweetheart, I thought of the solution to all our problems. Have you figured it out yet?”

Warmth and comfort slid up Hannah’s spine, and she held the phone tighter. “Not a clue.”

“We shouldn’t have ever had sisters.”

A burst of laughter broke through her current misery, and a tear trickled down her face. The tenderness in his voice made her ache to tell him the horrors of her day, of her own misbehavior of lashing out at Paul … of wanting to lash out even more.

She saw a half smile break through Paul’s reserve before he grabbed the gas can and moved it into the barn, giving her privacy.

She walked to the knoll, gazing out over the peaceful fields. “I’ve been so wrong today. You wouldn’t even recognize me. I’ve ripped people apart, and the thing is … I had no idea that kind of anger and bitterness lurked inside me.”

“Phone girl, give yourself some room here. It’s okay to lose it a few times with people who said they loved you and then didn’t even throw you a life preserver when you were drowning.”

Another tear slid down her cheek. She drew a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“I’m really sorry for the other night.”

“I know, but this isn’t a good time to talk, so I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Sure. No beating up on yourself, and we’ll talk soon.”

“Bye.” She closed the phone. Walking to the barn area, seeing Paul, being here—it seemed impossible to process it with any sense of reality. “I … I’m off the phone.”

With a pitchfork in hand, he tossed the gasoline-soaked hay into a huge metal bin. He glanced up. The lack of condemnation, disappointment, or anger on his face was disconcerting. Was he the jerk who’d abandoned her, taken her portion of their money, and refused to return her call—or not?

He gathered more hay on the tines and pitched it into the bin. “I didn’t mean to break a confidence by sharing the baby’s name.”

Wishing she knew what to believe about this man in front of her, she did her best to temper her answer. “I guess I should have just told her when she asked. I tend to be a little stubborn about things at times.”

Paul didn’t nod or sneer or even crack some smart remark.

“That’s your cue to say, ‘You think?’ ”

He rested the tines of the pitchfork in the ground. “The phone call seems to have helped you find a little perspective on today.”

“Yeah.” She squeezed the phone in the palm of her hand. “Martin.” She slid her phone into her pocket and ran her fingers over the ring he’d given her. “The first time I met him,” she laughed, “it was
after
a rather ugly argument.”

“So you argued with him and then met him?”

“Yeah. But the argument wasn’t my fault.”

Suppressing a smile, he answered, “Uh, yes, I … I’m sure it wasn’t.”

She blinked, staring at him before a whispery laugh escaped her, and he joined her. Silence followed, a welcome kind of truce of some sort. “So now what?”

“You listen to more reasons why the Better Path is the best place for Sarah?”

“Let’s skip that for now and assume my opinion is outnumbered by you and Sarah, then what?”

“You take her there and get her forms filled out. I’ll follow in my car and do what needs to be done to get a psychiatrist on site. Maybe not today, but some psychological testing will need to be done by tomorrow afternoon and a step-by-step plan developed. The place has full-time, short-term care. She’ll be sedated at bedtime, her room locked, and she’ll be monitored so she can’t do any more slipping out during the night.”

“What if she’s guilty of starting the fires, of killing David?” Hannah’s words barely came out in a whisper as she forced herself to ask about her worst fears.

“Normally that’s not something I, or any other psychologist, would tackle, but since it’s important to the safety of everyone in the community as well as to her being at peace, I’ll work on finding some answers while she’s under supervision.”

Wondering what the cost would be, Hannah nodded. Regardless of all else, she’d stumbled on a beginning place for Sarah.

H
annah stood at the window inside Dr. Stone’s office, waiting for her to return from taking Sarah to her room for the night. Before leaving the Better Path over two hours ago, Paul had managed to reach the doctor and get her to come in to see Sarah today rather than tomorrow. For that, Hannah was grateful.

Her father’s stubbornness seemed no better now than two and a half years ago. Still, she’d need his approval regardless of what Dr. Stone recommended. Sarah required her family and community, a place to live, and someone to provide for her when she was released from this place—all of which meant doing what it took to keep Sarah in the good graces of their Daed.

The receptionist had left about thirty minutes ago, and except for Hannah, the main-house segment of the Better Path was completely empty. A nurse, Dr. Stone, and Sarah were in the patient facility out back, which looked like it’d once been a
Daadi Haus
for an Amish home. The place was probably older than Dr. Lehman’s birthing center, but it was nicer with its hardwood floors, refurbished interior, and homey décor. Dr. Lehman’s clinics were sparse, functional, and had ancient linoleum floors. She hadn’t really thought about it before now, but the windows at her clinic were covered with unopened, aluminum miniblinds to give a constant sense of privacy to the women inside. But here the windows were adorned with opened plantation blinds and lacy valances.

The Tuscarora Mountain stood in the distance with huge oaks spread across the land before it, reminding her of how much she’d once loved the beauty of Owl’s Perch. But it no longer felt like home, in spite of the bittersweet longing that had crept up on her once in a while during this trip. Mostly what had flooded her was deep anger. Hoping to temper her reactions from here on, she watched as Paul pulled into the driveway behind the clinic and headed for the
guest
housing, as they referred to it.

Dr. Stone came out of the small house and met Paul, as if they’d timed his arrival back at the clinic with her leaving Sarah in the nurse’s care. Meticulously dressed with matching nails and perfectly sculpted short brown hair, the forty-something doctor passed a file to Paul while talking. Trying not to chafe at the absurdity of this situation, Hannah kept a vigil. Paul glanced up to the window where she stood before returning his focus to Dr. Stone and walking with her toward the clinic. Their muffled voices filled the air as they entered the building and came up the stairs to where Hannah waited.

Dr. Stone motioned for Hannah to take a seat as she walked to the front of her desk and leaned against it. “Sarah has decided to stay with us over the next few weeks. It took awhile to help her see the need, but after eighteen it’s best if the patient chooses to stay. Otherwise we could need the courts to intervene. If you’ll bring her some clothes and any personal items she wants, you can spend a little time with her tonight, but after that we prefer no visitors for at least a week.” She tapped the desk with her long, fake nails. “I still have a lot of patients to see at my full-time clinic, so I need to leave now, but Paul is prepared to fill you in on anything you’d like to know.”

Not comfortable with the doctor asking Paul to explain what was going on with her sister, Hannah decided to be more direct. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She seems to have four overlapping issues. None alone is too serious, and even the four are certainly manageable with help, but she’s gone a long time with no intervention.”

“We just didn’t realize her issues were this serious.”

The doctor nodded. “Family members tend to accept the odd behaviors of their own as part of who the person is, and the peculiarities can often increase slowly over years.” She glanced briefly to Paul. “I understand you’ve been gone the last two and a half years.”

“I have.”

“With no contact?”

Suddenly feeling like her life was on trial, Hannah answered, “I didn’t leave a way to be contacted, and I wrote very few notes, which were generic in content. Has that added to Sarah’s issues?”

“She does have symptoms of adjustment separation anxiety disorder among other things.”

“Was that a yes or a no to my question?”

“It was neither. It’s possible your absence contributed to her condition. It’s possible it didn’t.” Dr. Stone pulled a sheet of paper out from a stack on her desk. “She’s requested to have Paul as her regular therapist.”

“No.” Hannah stared straight at him. “Absolutely not.”

The doctor frowned. “Is there a reason why you feel he’s not a good fit to work with Sarah? He is a Plain Mennonite, which gives him an advantage in understanding her.”

Hannah had plenty of reasons for her opinion. In spite of his good showing at Gram’s, she simply didn’t trust him. Maybe he was who he said and acted like he was, but she had a solid basis for thinking otherwise. “But he’s known her for a while. He’s friends with our brother and has dealt with our Daed. Doesn’t that disqualify him or something?”

Dr. Stone leaned forward. “So you think he’s too emotionally involved to hear her without bias?”

Hannah swallowed, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “Look, you’re basing this request on what Sarah wants. Earlier today she
wanted
to set fire to herself. Maybe you’re mistaken to put so much stock in her opinion.”

The doctor gave an indifferent nod and passed the paper to her. “This is a list of our counselors. It’s a short list, but each name has a bio. Only Paul works here full-time. The others come in a few times a week or less, so if you decide not to use Paul, you will need to understand the limitations you’re placing on Sarah’s counseling sessions. You can discuss this with your family and let Paul know. Whether he’s her counselor or not, it’s very important to her that she feels she can return home when her time here is over.” She pointed to Paul. “Which means you will need to talk with her family while you’re getting her personal items from home.” She glanced at her watch. “I prefer that Paul be present for that conversation for many reasons I don’t have time to explain. When you return with her things, I hope you have good news for her. If not, let Paul coach you on the best phrases to use so we can avoid wording things in a way that will upset her.”

Hannah glanced at Paul. Daed had to approve this plan for Sarah’s sake, but Hannah couldn’t even manage to agree with Paul on anything. So how were they going to pull this off?

“Do you have a list of ways we can reach you if need be?”

Hannah pulled the last two business cards she had with her out of her pocket and passed one to Dr. Stone and one to Paul.

She nodded. “Good.” She tapped her watch. “Well, I need to go. Paul, we’ll have a conference call tomorrow at ten. I think we discussed all other aspects while on the phone earlier. Anything I’ve forgotten?”

Paul shook his head. “We covered it. I know how to reach you if a need comes up.”

Dr. Stone looked at Hannah. “Regardless of who is chosen as the therapist, Paul will be the coordinator for all issues concerning Sarah for the intensity of the next month. After that he can step down and pass the responsibility to someone else.” Dr. Stone held out her hand to Hannah. “I’m sure we’ll talk again in a few weeks.”

The doctor left.

Paul tilted the file in her direction. “We need to discuss a few things on our way to see your Daed.”

Despite wanting to object and to drive herself, she simply nodded. This was unbelievable. Aggravating. Annoying. And … maybe the only way she’d get out of here and back to Martin before she ruined her chance of graduating from nursing school on time.

“You ready?”

She’d never be ready for this next venture, but it had to be done anyway. “Yeah.”

Paul headed for his vehicle, and she went for hers.

“Han … um, Ms. Lawson, we need to ride together. The fewer vehicles in your Daed’s driveway, the less frustrated he’ll be, and we need to talk on the way to prep for the visit there.”

She’d told him not to refer to her as if they were friends, but calling her Ms. Lawson wasn’t the answer either.

“Then I’ll drive.”

He frowned.

“Problem?”

“No, I guess not … except I saw your effort to bolt that tire on this morning and …”

Caught off guard by his remark, she laughed. Her eyes met his, and for the second time something besides stress glimmered between them—and she was grateful. “Oh, shut up and get in the car, Waddell.”

He shrugged. “I’m really hungry and tired. I don’t want to get stuck without a spare.”

She opened her car door. “I have groceries in the trunk of my car.” They both got in, and Hannah turned the key. “So you won’t die of starvation if we get stranded.”

“So if we get stranded together, what would I die from?”

Hannah chuckled, remembering how well they used to quip their way through things. “I won’t incriminate myself.”

Paul laughed and opened the file. “Here’s the deal …”

After pulling into her parents’ driveway, Hannah turned off the car.

Paul slid the file between the seat and the console. “It’d probably be best if we left our cell phones in the car.”

She’d disagree, except if their goal was to appease her father, Paul happened to be right. She plunked her phone into the console before getting out. Knowing she’d need to remain outside the house, she didn’t go to the door closest to them but headed for the front porch. Without questioning her, Paul followed. She knocked and waited.

Her father opened the door.

“Hi, Daed. Sarah’s doing much better this evening, and we came to talk with you about where she is and what can be done for her.”

Her Daed nodded before he turned back toward the living room. “Luke, get a few kitchen chairs and bring them to the front porch. You need to join us. Ruth, ask Mary to take Esther, Rebecca, and Samuel to see the kittens in the barn until we call them.” He then stepped out and motioned Hannah to the porch swing.

From things Mamm and Luke had said, it sounded like her Daed and Paul had met, but clarifying that could cause ill will from her father. And they’d clearly seen each other earlier today; still a proper introduction seemed necessary. “Daed, this is Paul Waddell. Paul, this is my Daed, Zeb Lapp.”

Paul held out his hand, and Daed shook it. “Mr. Lapp.”

Without speaking or offering any friendliness, her father took a seat next to Hannah, which took her by surprise. Luke came outside carrying two chairs, and Mamm was behind him.

As Mamm walked to her, Hannah stood. Her mother hugged her right there in front of her Daed. “Are you hungry?”

She should be. It was almost dinnertime, and she hadn’t eaten since early morning, but she wasn’t.
“Denki, Ich bin ganz gut.”

Saying “Thanks, I am fine” in her native tongue felt a little strange. Outside of working with Amish women in labor, she never used the language anymore. Zabeth rarely spoke it, and Hannah followed suit. Dressing like an Englischer seemed to cause everyone to avoid using Pennsylvania Dutch with her, even Mary.

Mamm gently cupped Hannah’s face in her hands.
“Liewi …”
Her eyes misted, but she was unable to say more than
dear
.

“I love you too, Mamm.”

Her mother sobbed and pulled her close. Daed sat in silence, watching them. Shaking, Mamm pulled away and took a seat in a nearby chair. Hannah sat next to her father. He reached over and patted her hand. Was he offering some type of apology? Or was he simply saying thank you for bringing some peace to Mamm?

Paul leaned forward. “Mr. Lapp, have you had time to share today’s events with your wife and Luke, or should I begin our conversation by recapping?”

“I told them enough. Move on with what needs to be said.”

Paul remained unruffled in spite of her father’s sharp tone. “Sure, no problem. What happened today with Sarah may seem extreme and was probably very upsetting, but I believe her behavior was a cry for help more than a true indication of instability.”

Luke placed his forearms on his knees and stared at Paul. “You can help her?”

“Sarah is a good candidate for receiving help. We don’t have the lab results back, so we can’t be sure yet if some hormone imbalance or physical ailment is adding to her issues, but regardless of that, the physicians and counselors at the Better Path can help her. She’s checked herself into the clinic and wants to stay for a few weeks, but she needs to know that she can come home to live and that no one will be angry with her for getting help.”