The Amish Widow's New Love. Liz Tolsma

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       Chapter Two

      Naomi stroked her son’s hot, damp cheek with one hand and clung to the edge of the truck’s back seat with the other as they raced toward the clinic. Joseph cried weak, pitiful mews, stopping only to catch his breath, which he did far too often. Her throat burned. “Can’t you go faster, Elam?”

      “I’m speeding as it is. We’re in town. Not far now.”

      The trip had taken much too long. Why did the clinic have to be so far? The dim glow of the streetlights illuminated Joseph’s red face.

      Mamm reached over the car seat and patted Naomi’s hand. “Don’t worry so. We’ll be there soon. You just drive careful now, Elam.”

      He clung to the steering wheel and peered out the windshield. At least he heeded Mamm’s instructions.

      After another eternity, they pulled into the parking lot. Elam rolled to a stop as she grabbed Joseph’s car seat and hopped out, Mamm sliding out the other side.

      “I’ll park and be right—”

      Naomi slammed the door.

      By the time she carried her wailing child inside and registered him at the desk, Elam had joined them. Why had he come? Better for him to stay in that truck. Mamm was here.

      The waiting room buzzed with activity. Sick children. Some virus or bug must be going around. Maybe Joseph had picked up his illness from one of the children at the church service two weeks ago. Mamm calmly sat on one of the chairs on the far side of the room. Probably praying.

      Elam sat across from her, clasping his straw hat with his big, work-roughened hands. She paced the room and jiggled Joseph on her hip. Elam patted the chair on his left. “Come sit, Naomi. You’re going to wear yourself out.”

      “I can’t. What’s taking them so long?”

      “Fretting about it won’t make them call you sooner. Now sit. I can hold Joseph if you want a break.”

      “Nein, denki.” The harsh words flew from her lips, but she would not give her son to him. Never. “I’m sorry, Elam. I shouldn’t have been short just now. I am thankful for your help tonight.”

      She 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.”