The Amish Widow's New Love. Liz Tolsma
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moved the car seat from the chair beside Mamm and sat. Joseph’s little body melded into hers. She kissed his burning cheek.
Elam peered at Joseph. “Does he often get sick?”
“The doctor said if he got a respiratory infection, it could be very bad. He has a hole in his heart, and that is not good for his lungs. I don’t fully understand, and it’s hard to explain. It’s dangerous for him to be sick.” Like always, he managed to get her to open up. To share her heart. She couldn’t allow that. He’d broken it once before. She wouldn’t give him a chance to do it again. She pursed her lips together.
A nurse dressed in bright blue scrubs emerged from the doorway to the side of the desk. “Joseph Miller?”
Naomi gathered Joseph’s diaper bag and stood. She and Mamm followed the nurse into one of the small rooms and sat in the chairs beside the little desk.
Naomi leaned over, willing her hands to stop shaking.
Julie, as the nurse had introduced herself, took Joseph’s history, his blood pressure, his temperature and his pulse, and typed everything into the computer. “So he hasn’t been sick that long?”
“A sniffle or two this morning, but I didn’t think anything of it. I put him in bed before I went out. My mamm was watching him, and she sent for me not too long afterward to tell me he was crying and wouldn’t eat.” She shouldn’t have left him. It was her fault he got so sick. Mamm pulled her into a side hug.
“Any tugging on the ears?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Naomi forced the words around the lump in her throat.
Mamm patted her hand.
“Cough?”
“Yes, deep and tight.”
The questions went on. Mamm sat beside her until Julie finished. “The doctor will be in soon. If you need anything, just holler. I’ll be right down the hall.”
As the nurse closed the door, Naomi worried the hem of her sleeve. Mamm rubbed her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. He’s made of sturdy stuff.”
“I’m scared.” Her insides quivered.
“I know. But God is watching out for him.”
“I could lose him.” More tears streamed down her face.
“I know, my daughter, I know. But the doctors will take gut care of him. He will be fine. You’ll see.”
Mamm’s words washed over her, but her stomach still tightened. “Even with Aaron’s accident and Daniel’s fall, I never felt like this. So helpless. So frightened of being alone.” She nestled Joseph against her, the one good thing in her life.
Dear God, don’t take him from me. I can’t stand to lose him.
* * *
Naomi kissed her sleeping son on his cool cheek and pulled up the blanket to his chin, careful not to rock the cradle and wake him. Now, with several doses of antibiotics in him, his breathing was once again normal. Such a scare he’d given her the other day. Denki, Lord, that he’s well.
As well as he could be for a child with a hole in his heart.
He puckered his blue lips and puckered his mouth in his sleep. With one more kiss, Naomi slipped out the bedroom door.
Mamm, a basket of laundry in her hands, met her at the bottom of the steps. “Ready for your first day back at the bakery?”
Naomi’s stomach churned. Other than the singing on Sunday, she hadn’t been away from Joseph since his birth. And look how that had turned out. “I don’t want to leave him. What if he needs me? He did when I went to the singing.”
“Laura and I will be here all day. You’ll be across the street. His getting sick had nothing to do with you leaving him. It’s gut for you to get out of the house, even if only for a few hours of the day. If you don’t, you’ll go stir-crazy in no time. And a happy mamm makes for a happy bobbeli.”
“Still...”
“Off with you. Take your mind from your worries for a while. Go, before I make you iron all of this.”
Naomi tried to smile at Mamm’s joke. Ironing was the worst form of torture. “I’m going, I’m going. Anything to avoid that.” She gave a slight chuckle. “But you get me if Joseph needs me for anything at all. Anything.”
“I will.” Mamm kissed her on the cheek in much the same way she had kissed Joseph. Her tight muscles relaxed a little bit.
Before she knew it, Naomi stood on the threshold of the walkout basement’s back door leading to the downstairs bakery. After drawing in a deep breath, she stepped inside, warmth enveloping her, the yeasty aroma of bread, doughnuts and cinnamon rolls welcoming her.
She hadn’t been here as an employee since Joseph’s birth. The people, the routine, the work had brought her a measure of comfort after Daniel’s death. Perhaps Mamm was right. Maybe being here would keep her from worrying about her son, even if only for a few hours.
Rachel Miller, her sister-in-law and best friend, scurried into the hall. “Naomi, welcome back. How gut it is to see you.” She wrapped her in a hug. “How is Joseph doing?”
“Fine now. But that illness was one of the scariest things that I’ve ever had to experience.” Joseph was her precious only child. His sickness could have been serious, even life-threatening.
“The Lord is gracious. And it is gut to have you beside me again, even if it’s only a few days a week.”
They entered the kitchen, and Naomi stared at the stoves lining the walls, the big sink in the back and the large metal table in the middle where the women did most of their work. Rachel squeezed her shoulder. “Are you okay? You sure you’re up for this?”
She had to be. “Ja, except it’s almost like I’m dreaming. But Mamm says it’s gut for me to get out of the house for a while, and the money will help with the repairs to the dawdi haus so I can move in there. Have a measure of independence.”
“Whatever the reason you came back to work, I’m glad you’re here.”
They set to their tasks, Rachel kneading dough that would become pretzels, and Naomi kneading seven-grain bread. Before long, the rhythm of the work settled her.
“You crazy old man, what are you doing?” A voice carried from the back room.
Naomi turned to Rachel. “Is that Sylvia Herschberger?”
“Sounds like it.”
“Just getting this flour you wanted.”
Naomi chuckled. “Ja, that’s Simon answering her.”
“Let me help you with that.”
Elam? Was that his voice? Her stomach fluttered in her midsection. Which was ridiculous. He had helped them when Joseph got sick, but that was all.
“Watch out.”
Boom. Crash. Bang.
“Simon!” Sylvia screeched.
Naomi wiped her hands on her apron and scurried to the back room. “Ach, Simon, oh no.”
The older man lay on the floor, his right leg jutting out at an odd angle. Elam pulled a ladder off him. Sylvia stood over her husband, wringing her hands. Flour covered all three of them and the floor. Dust floated on the sunlit air.
Naomi hurried to his side. “What can I do? Tell me how to help.”
Elam’s green eyes widened when he saw her. “We’ll need an ambulance.”
Rachel reached Naomi. “I’ll run down the street to call for one.”
Naomi