As Noelle cut into a blueberry one, Barbara said, “I feel so bad about last Sunday, when I realized I’d repeated gossip to Jesse. . . . After you left, we talked about it more, but I can’t, for the life of me, remember who said it.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Noelle took a stack of plates from the cupboard. “It was a long time ago.”
“No. I feel awful,” she said. “You two were perfect together. I felt so bad for Jesse when you called it off—or when I thought you called it off. I wanted to console him. . . .”
Noelle blinked as she scooted a piece of pie onto the first plate. She wished Barbara would stop talking. Perhaps she sensed Noelle’s discomfort because she at least changed the topic. “I stopped by and saw Salome on Friday. It’s a shame about her back.”
Noelle nodded.
“I think probably the stress of caring for your Mamm finally caught up with her.”
Noelle cocked her head.
“And, of course, the stress of Moriah’s loss. And now that the one-year anniversary is here, I think they’re all having a hard time.”
Noelle agreed.
“Salome said how fortunate you are to be young. To have a strong back. To only have yourself to think of, instead of a family too.”
Noelle froze. She had Dat to think of. True, there was only one of him, but it wasn’t as if she was carefree.
“Salome didn’t say this, but I gathered she’s feeling the weight of your entire family on her shoulders. Your Mamm was so good at keeping everyone connected.”
Noelle felt a wave of sympathy for Salome. Perhaps being the oldest sister was harder for Salome than Noelle realized.
Barbara jumped topics again. “I’ll really miss that sweet baby if they go back to Montana.”
Confused, Noelle froze, the coffeepot in midair. “What?”
“You didn’t know?” The woman continued on before Noelle could respond. “Greta’s grandparents in Montana are hoping he’ll go back.”
Noelle looked past Barbara at Jesse and the baby, who were sitting together on the sofa. While Dat and Ben talked, Jesse made funny faces at the little girl. Why did Noelle feel sad at the thought of Jesse leaving again? Wasn’t that what she wanted?
On Monday evening, Noelle traipsed through the snow to Salome’s house and asked if she wanted to go to the cardiologist appointment the next morning. Salome assured her she didn’t. “You can handle this,” she said. “My back still isn’t doing well.”
“Does that mean I’ll be doing the market again?”
“Jah. It’s just three more days.”
Noelle turned to go but then stopped and faced her sister again. “We haven’t found a place to have Family Christmas. How about if we just have it in the shed? We can get the church wagon benches and put them around in a big circle.”
“The Beyers are using the benches for their gathering,” Salome said. “Besides, if we did that, I’d end up doing all the work.”
Noelle didn’t bother to say that she’d do everything. Cook the turkeys and hams. Set up. Clean up. All of it, if she needed to. “Aren’t our sisters and their families planning on getting together?”
Salome shook her head. “They’ve all left messages on my machine, and I’ve called everyone back to tell them we’re not doing it.”
Noelle’s heart sank. “But what about Dat? He wants us to get together. He’ll be disappointed.”
Salome sighed. “I don’t think he will. He told me he doesn’t feel up to much these days. You’re right—he’s worse than I’d realized. I think it will be a relief for him too.”
Flabbergasted, Noelle stuttered, “That’s not what he’s said.”
“Nothing lasts forever. There are seasons in life and this one has ended.” Salome crossed her arms. “You’d better go check with LuAnne about who’s looking after Dat the next three days. I think Paul will be gone for most of Thursday. I’m not sure the same schedule will work.”
Deflated, Noelle said, “I’ll go talk to LuAnne.” As she left Salome’s, she realized she was looking forward to working at the market on Thursday. She wanted to see if she could sell even more products than she had the week before. And she wanted to see Holly and Carlos. And, even though it was hard to admit it, there was a part of her that wanted to see Jesse too.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tuesday morning, Pamela picked up Dat and Noelle for the cardiologist’s appointment. The office was a block from the hospital in Lancaster. Again, Noelle felt anxious. After a long wait, Dat was finally called back to the exam room. Noelle held his arm as he shuffled along, his cane dragging along the carpet.
Dr. Morrison turned out to be a middle-aged woman with straight, shoulder-length gray hair. She chatted with Dat, putting him at ease, and then took his medical history. She then asked him about his family medical history.
Dat acknowledged that his father had died of a heart attack in his late sixties. “And all of his brothers died in their sixties or seventies, probably from heart problems,” he said. “But I am not certain. They were spread all over Pennsylvania.”
The doctor asked him to describe how far he could walk without getting winded, and he answered, “By the time I walk from my bed to my chair, I am ready to sit down.”
The doctor listened to his lungs, commenting that there were signs of congestion. Then she listened to his heart. When she finished she said, “I’m picking up abnormal heart sounds that indicate heart failure. And your EKG from your hospital visit indicates an enlarged heart.” The doctor smiled at him kindly. “Many people with heart failure have high blood pressure, which you don’t presently have. We’ll monitor that. But I will prescribe an angiotensin-converting enzyme inhibitor, which will help open up your narrowed blood vessels.”
“I am not afraid to die,” Dat said.
The doctor nodded. “I guessed that about you. But I don’t want you to have any unnecessary discomfort or pain either.” She looked from Dat to Noelle and back
