Her Restless Heart Part 19

"She woke up a little while ago, but then she went back to sleep."

Her grandmother held up a brown paper bag. "I brought you lunch." She threaded her arm through Mary Katherine's and pulled her out of the room. "k.u.mm, let's go sit outside and eat. You've been cooped up here for days."

They went outside on a small patio and sat at a table, but instead of taking the food from the bag, her grandmother reached across it and took Mary Katherine's hand.

"She's going to be fine, liebschen," her grandmother said. "You need to come home and get some rest."

"I thought I was going to lose her," Mary Katherine said, tears welling in her eyes. "I feel so guilty. If I'd gone by to see her more often, I might have noticed that she wasn't well. But he-" she stopped.

"Your dat didn't make it easy, did he?" She sighed. "But Miriam has to take some of the blame, too. She never spoke up. She made excuses for him every time we talked. Even when she knew you were moving out, she wouldn't speak up and tell him she thought he was being too stern with you."

She shook her head. "He's the head of the house as a mann should be, but I don't believe that G.o.d ever meant for women to be treated the way he treats his wife and daughter. Your grandfather never behaved like that at all."

"'Browbeaten,'" Mary Katherine said. "Jamie used that word when we talked about our fathers sometime back."

Leah sighed, picked up the bag, and started withdrawing items. "You see, it's not just Amish fathers who can be too stern with their daughters. Jamie has told you that her father is the same way. If I'd told you that Englisch fathers did this, you might never have believed me."

"I always believe you," Mary Katherine told her staunchly.

"Then you will believe what I tell you next," she said, meeting her granddaughter's eyes. "You know what you need to do."

Mary Katherine rested her elbows on the table and put her forehead in her hands. "Yes."

Leah patted her back. "It's the right thing to do. 'Honor thy father and mother, which is the first commandment with promise.' "

She handed Mary Katherine a paper-wrapped sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a can of her favorite soda. When she pulled out a cookie the size of a saucer, Mary Katherine couldn't help laughing.

"You even brought the big chocolate chip cookie," she said, shaking her head.

"I was prepared to bribe you," her grandmother told her, reaching over to hug her. "I didn't think it'd take the big cookie, but I wasn't taking any chances. Shall we bless our food?"

Mary Katherine looked at the spread that her grandmother had brought to her, remembering the things she loved. She thought about how her grandmother had brought up a difficult subject but had not tried to lecture her or tell her what she should do. And she felt regret.

"I haven't thought much about how you feel," she said, her eyes welling with tears again. "I thought about losing my mamm, but it would be even more awful if you lost a child."

Leah patted her hand. "You thought of your mother and that's as it should be. I'm fine."

"I'm missing work-"

"You're not to think of that," she said quickly. "Naomi and Anna are covering for you and everything is going well."

"The doctor says he thinks Mamm can go home soon," Mary Katherine said as she unwrapped her sandwich. "I'm not looking forward to moving back in, but it'll just be for a short time."

When her grandmother made a slight movement of distress, Mary Katherine's heart sank. Sure enough, when she looked up, she saw her father's stiff back as he turned and walked away.

"He heard me," she whispered.

Her grandmother nodded. "I'd have told you if I'd seen him in time." She sighed. "Well, they say that eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves. Why don't you go talk to him, and I'll wait for you?"

Mary Katherine wrapped up her sandwich and got up. With feet that felt like lead, she went to find him.

To her surprise, her father wasn't in her mother's room.

"I sent him out to see you and Mamm," Miriam told her. "Did you miss him?"

Mary Katherine nodded but decided her mother didn't need any details.

"Maybe you can catch him. He was just here a few minutes ago."

"We'll see each other tomorrow."

Miriam straightened her covers. "I can't wait to get home. It'll be good to sleep in my own bed, see my garden."

"You can't work in it for a while."

"Everything will die if it's not tended," Miriam said, her fingers becoming agitated on the covers. "I need to water the plants and-"

"I'll take care of it until you can."

"But you work and you live-"

"I'm going to come and stay with you for a while until you feel better."

Relief swept across her mother's face but was just as swiftly gone. "Oh, how can you do that? You and your dat don't get along . . ." she trailed off, looking worried.

"We'll manage." Mary Katherine didn't know how, but that was her concern, her problem.

"Listen, I'm going to go back out and finish my lunch with Grandmother. Do you need anything before I go?"

Miriam shook her head. "Would you mind if I said I want to take a nap? I'm feeling really tired."

"It's time you said what you need," Mary Katherine told her. She leaned down and kissed her mother's cheek. "Maybe I'll go back to the shop with Grossmudder for a few hours and see you later this afternoon?"

"Tomorrow," Miriam said with more firmness. "Tell Mamm I said I'll see you both tomorrow when I get to go home."

"Bossy lady," she teased. "Sweet dreams."

It felt so good to be back at the shop. Mary Katherine walked into the s.p.a.ce filled with brightly colored fabrics and crafts and just stood for a moment, absorbing it.

Naomi and Anna rushed at her, hugging her and asking rapid-fire questions about her mother.

She absorbed their love and their chatter, so grateful for their warmth and concern.

"I'm fine, and Mamm's doing better and getting out tomorrow," she said, answering their first two questions. She pulled off her coat and headed for the back room to hang it and her purse up.

Then she turned back to Naomi and Anna. "And I'm going to move back into my parents' house for a while."

She heard disbelieving squeaks out of her cousins.

"Grandmother! You can't let her do this!" Anna wailed.

Leah walked into the room and hung up her things. "She needs to take care of her mother. You'd do the same if it was your mother."

"But it means she has to be around her father again!" Anna shivered.

Secretly, Mary Katherine agreed. But what could she do? The only way she could care for her mother was to be in her house, and that was where her father lived . . .

"It'll be all right," she said, trying to convince herself. "It's only for a short time."

They shared their afternoon cup of tea, the "Back in 10 Minutes" sign on the locked front door of the shop guaranteeing an uninterrupted break. It was a welcome one after the last few days of tension at the hospital.

"You've been so happy since you moved in with Grossmudder," Naomi said quietly, her eyes filled with compa.s.sion.

"You won't talk about why you were so miserable," Anna said, looking stormy rather than compa.s.sionate. "That tells me that it was really bad. And Onkel Isaac barely looks at you when he comes here to see Grossmudder."

"It doesn't matter. It's just for a little while." She turned the mug in her hands around and around. "Mamm needs someone to take care of her."

"But your father is-"

"No!" Mary Katherine said sharply. "He didn't think she was sick up until the time they carried her out of there in an ambulance."

"But now that he's seen that he was wrong, he'll be better. He'll take good care of her."

Mary Katherine shook her head. "I can't take that chance." She looked into the tea she hadn't touched, then up at her grandmother.

"We'll all help," Leah said firmly. "Bring meals, help with ch.o.r.es."

"That's understood," Naomi said. "And her friends will, too."

"She hasn't got many friends. Not many people wanted to be around Dat."

She got up, went out into the shop, and turned the sign to "Open" before unlocking the door. Straightening displays helped her feel calmer, but it was only when she sat at her loom that she felt she could really breathe for the first time since her mother fell ill.

Taking up her shuttle, she began weaving the pattern she'd left days ago . . . what felt like years ago. And barely noticed the tears slipping down her cheeks.

Bright and early the next morning, Mary Katherine let herself into her parents' house. She called out to her father just in case but knew that he'd gone to the hospital with her grandmother.

The living room was still fairly neat. There were newspapers next to her father's favorite chair that he'd obviously read and then left for someone else to pick up. Sighing, she did so on the way into the kitchen.

Her breath caught when she saw the kitchen. She should have expected it, but still . . . didn't a grown man know how to wash a dish? Scrub a pot? Ugh! Wipe up after a spill in the refrigerator?

She went upstairs to put her things in her old room and found that nothing had been changed. After she'd unpacked, she walked into her parents' room. It didn't feel entirely comfortable to be in it, but she wanted to make sure it wasn't a mess like the kitchen downstairs. The bed wasn't made. She might have fainted if it was, she told herself. On the way to the clothes hamper she picked up her father's trousers, shirts, and socks.

No wonder her mother looked tired so often. Mary Katherine had forgotten how much her mother did for her father-she was obviously picking up after him like he was a small kind.

After a little tidying up of the bedroom and bathroom, she went downstairs and searched through the refrigerator and freezer to find something to cook for dinner. Her mother might be ready for some home cooking after hospital food. And she had no idea how much she might have to do for her mother when she first came home, so making sure a meal was cooked ahead of time was best.

She found a frozen container of vegetable soup, put the contents in a pot on the stove, set the flame low, and covered it. It wouldn't take long to thaw and then warm. Using a recipe from the wooden box on the countertop, she mixed a pan of cornbread and set it in the oven to bake. Thinking ahead to the next meal-especially since it seemed everything was frozen, she put a package of pork chops out to thaw.

A glance at the clock had her frowning. Where were they? Had the doctor decided her mother needed to stay longer? She walked into the living room and looked out the window, but there was no sign of her parents and grandmother.

Turning back, she had a thought as she stared at the sofa. Maybe she should put a blanket and pillow on it for her mother to rest before dinner. Nodding, she looked in the linen closet and found a quilt and an extra pillow. There, that looked welcoming, she thought. While she didn't think she'd ever seen her mother lie down in the daytime, now was the time to start since she was recuperating.

She heard the front door open and rushed into the living room. Her grandmother was helping Miriam inside.

"I got worried they decided to keep you another day," she said. After giving her mother a big hug, Mary Katherine began unb.u.t.toning her coat.

Her mother laughed and batted at her hands. "I'm not a child."

Mary Katherine's hands stilled on the b.u.t.ton. "No, you're not," she said seriously as she blinked hard to keep from crying. "But you'll let me take care of you a little, won't you?"

"Now, now," her mother said, holding Mary Katherine's face in her hands. "I'm going to be just fine."

"Doc says so," her father said brusquely as he shut the front door and headed for the kitchen, not looking at Mary Katherine. "Did you make some coffee?"

Mary Katherine opened her mouth to make a retort but caught the warning look in her grandmother's eyes.

"I wasn't sure when I should start it," she said in a milder tone than she might have if her grandmother hadn't given her the look. "Here, sit on the sofa for a minute, Mamm, and I'll make the coffee."

She took her grandmother's and mother's coats and hung them on pegs in the kitchen. Her father was opening the oven door and peering inside.

"Be careful, don't-" she began but he was already doing what she had feared he would do-letting the door slam shut.

Sighing, she carried the percolator over to the sink to fill it with water. Hopefully, the cornbread wouldn't collapse the way a cake might. If it did, she supposed she'd have to find some regular bread or crackers to go with the soup.

"I'm warming up Mamm's vegetable beef soup for dinner," she said as she placed the percolator on top of the stove.

He merely grunted and headed for the bathroom.

Shaking her head, Mary Katherine couldn't help thinking how little things had changed. She returned to the living room and was a little relieved to see her mother lying on the sofa, the quilt draped over her knees, her back propped up with pillows. Her color was better than it had been at the hospital, although it still concerned Mary Katherine.

"Are you hungry? I'm warming up some of your vegetable soup," she told her mother. "And the cornbread is almost done."

"That sounds wunderbaar," her mother said.

"Then a nap," Leah said firmly. "And there'll be no arguing."

"I won't be arguing today," her mother said. "I'm feeling weak as a kitten."

The back door slammed, and her father came into the room a few minutes later. He held a mug of coffee. "Dinner ready yet?"

The oven timer went off.

"Good timing," Leah said brightly, getting to her feet and helping her daughter to hers. "I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

Mary Katherine followed them into the kitchen. While her father had barely acknowledged her presence, maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

But she couldn't help a feeling of dread as everyone settled around the table and she thought about the time when her grandmother would be leaving them that evening.