Sewn with Joy (9 page)

J
oy followed Matthew through the front door of Yoder's Restaurant—one of the favorite places to eat in Pinecraft, Amish or not. The aroma of fried chicken and fresh cinnamon rolls greeted her, and her stomach rumbled a little despite the lunch she'd had earlier. A cell phone chimed, and Matthew reached inside his pants pocket. Up north, cell phones were only used because of work-related needs, but in Pinecraft it seemed almost everyone had one. The Amish snowbirds often proclaimed, “What happens in Pinecraft stays in Pinecraft.”

Matthew checked the number, and his brow furrowed. “Sorry…do you mind if I get this? It's Mose.”

“
Ne
, of course not. There's a line anyway. It'll be a while before we can get a table.”

Matthew stepped out of line and hurried outside. From her place in line she saw him talking, and then a worried expression came over his face.

“Joy?” The Amish hostess waved her forward, and Joy recognized one of Faith's friends. “Will there be two of you today?”

“
Ja
, but give us a minute…” She glanced outside again.
Matthew blew out a heavy sigh as he tucked his cell phone back into his pocket. She could see worry on his face and noticed a stiffness in his shoulders.

She offered a quick smile to the hostess. “I'll be right back.”

Joy hurried outside, the warm breeze dancing across her face. “Is everything all right?”

Matthew released a sigh. “I'm afraid not. It sounds like Mose was using a temperamental chain saw when he was tearing down the old structure. It jumped and got his leg real good. Abraham took him to the ER. They've been trying to get hold of me for an hour, but over the noise in my own shop I didn't hear my phone.”

“Do you need to go?”

“Ja.”
He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Not only did we lose Mose's help, but Abraham's too. I need to get back to that project. I'm afraid I'm going to be working late. And I was hoping to see you this evening.”

“I understand. But I actually need to spend time with my
dat
and
mem
. Lunch tomorrow?” She offered a bright smile, even though thoughts of her
dat
caused her chest to resume its ache.

“That sounds perfect. Maybe a picnic at Phillippi Park?”

“I'll prepare a basket.”

Joy watched him go, moving with long, purposeful steps. She considered picking up a snack to go, but there were plenty of leftovers at home. Besides, she needed to spend her money more wisely now.

As she walked toward home, Joy said a quick prayer for Mose. Then she considered how best to approach the subject tonight with her
dat
. She knew he could be stubborn, but he'd raised five girls who could be equally so. She just hoped
Dat
would allow her and Faith to pitch in. Their family needed him—needed him around, needed him to be well.
Ja
, there were many needs within
the Amish community, but that's what God designed family for, wasn't it?

Dat
and
Mem
sat side by side on the couch. The evening sun slanted through the windows, highlighting the white of
Dat
's beard. They'd just finished dinner, and
Mem
had made an orange cream pie—
Dat
's favorite—but no one had touched it.
Dat
narrowed his gaze at them as Faith asked about his illness.

“So tell us the truth,
Dat
. How bad is it? I know you need more money to get the type of help you need.”

“It's not something you need to worry about.” His reply was sharp.

Mem
almost seemed relieved by the questions. “John, please. They are concerned. As I told you before, it's not right that you keep so much from them. They are women now, not children.”

“Just tell us what we can do to help,” Joy said, jumping in. “
Mem
's right. We're not little girls. None of us can do much alone, but together—”

Dat
waved his hand in the air, acting as if they didn't need to have the conversation. “I'm fine, I'm fine,” he mumbled under his breath. He shook his head as if they were making a big deal out of nothing, but his thin frame and the concern in
Mem
's gaze told a different story.

Joy clutched her hands on her lap. “Tell us the truth,
Mem
. We want to know what to expect. How to help.”

Faith's chin trembled slightly. Joy reached over and took her sister's hand.

“I thought
Dat
would be better after the move.” Faith sighed. “It did seem as if he was better for a time.”

“Listen to yourselves.”
Dat
stroked his chin. “
Dat
this,
Dat
that…I'm not dead. I'm sitting right here.”

“John, please,”
Mem
said again. “They are just concerned. I'd be more worried if they didn't want to fret after you.”
Mem
leaned forward, as if letting them into a secret.

“We didn't want to worry you girls. The weather in Pinecraft has helped some, but the lack of manual labor and the rest are what help the most.”

“But Faith says there is a medication that could help.”

“Not medication, but therapy. It's experimental and expensive. Your
dat
has a lung disease that has
ne
cure.”

Joy straightened in her seat. “
Mem
, how come you haven't told us before? You let us assume it was simply a chronic respiratory condition. Are you saying it's something more?”

Mem
's eyes grew round. A film of tears caused Joy to sigh and sink back on her heels, waiting for the blow
Mem
's words were sure to bring.

“It's called chronic obstructive pulmonary disease,”
Mem
said. “Or COPD. A lot of things cause it, but what your
dat
has is an inherited disease. It's not common, but not uncommon either. Both of your paternal grandparents had a faulty gene, it seems. These genes tell cells how to make AAT proteins. To state it simply, AAT proteins are made in the liver. These proteins protect organs, such as the lungs.”

Faith held up a hand, halting her words. “That sounds complicated, but what does it mean?”

“Your
dat
's protein gets stuck in the liver, and it never gets to the organs it needs to protect. The therapy takes donor proteins and injects them into the patient.”

Joy's mind reached for any bit of hope. “But the infusions will help, right?”

“They could.”
Mem
's face relaxed as she spoke, as if sharing the information was also sharing the burden. “The therapy involves
getting infusions of the AAT protein. It raises the level of protein in a person's blood and lungs. The doctor mentioned it, but there is not enough research to know how well the therapy works. That's why we can't possibly think of approaching the bishop. If we knew it could work…”

“Is it expensive?”

Dat
nodded. “Too expensive to consider.”

Faith's eyes were wide. “But if you got this, then you'd be better?”

“As I said, there is
ne
cure for this type of lung disease.”
Mem
glanced at her husband with tender love. “The therapy is considered preventative. The parts of his lungs that are destroyed will never be healed. The therapy would only stop his lungs from getting worse.”

Joy looked at her sister and noticed determination in Faith's gaze.
Mem
must have seen it too.

“I know what you're thinking, but it would take us years to save that much money.”
Mem
's words carried emotion, and Joy thought she saw her try to swallow it away. “As your
dat
says, God knows the number of each of our days. We both have peace with that. This is not something to take into our own hands. Even without the treatment, the doctor believes we still have years left together.”

Years of sleeping all day? Years of just getting worse and worse?
Joy didn't say the words, but she thought them.
O Lord, please show us a way.

 

Orange Cream Pie

1 9-inch baked pastry piecrust

Orange Filling

2 cups water

1 cup sugar

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1 teaspoon orange-flavored drink mix (like Tang)

3 oranges, peeled and chopped

Cream Cheese Filling

4 ounces cream cheese, softened

2 cups confectioners' sugar

8 ounces whipped cream (optional)

To make the orange filling, bring 1½ cups of water to a boil in a saucepan. In a bowl, mix together sugar, cornstarch, and drink mix. Add ½ cup of water into the sugar mixture and stir. Pour into boiling water, reduce to medium heat, stirring as it cooks. Remove from heat when it begins to thicken a bit. Cool. Stir in orange pieces.

Next, for the cream cheese filling: In a bowl, stir together cream cheese and confectioners' sugar until creamy. Add half of the whipped cream to the mixture. Spoon into baked piecrust. Top with orange filling. Refrigerate overnight. Decorate the top of the pie with the reserved whipped cream, if desired. Makes one 9-inch pie.

Ten

A friend is one who knows all about you and still loves you.

A
MISH PROVERB

A
licia had just gotten to the beach with script in hand when her cell phone rang. It was a custom ring that sounded like an Irish jig. How many months had it been since she'd heard that ring? Too many. She answered it with a quick release of breath.

“Hello.”

“Hey, I like yellow on you. It always looks good with your creamy white skin. But did you really think you could hide behind those sunglasses, especially when ET spilled the news about the upcoming series last night?”