The Amish Midwife - By Mindy Starns Clark Page 0,118
their relationship was Alexander. And that was all thanks to me.” Mammi’s eyes suddenly filled with fresh tears.
“What do you mean?”
At my question, Mammi seemed startled, as if she had just remembered who she was talking to or what she was saying. She put a hand to her mouth as more tears began to course down her cheeks.
“Oh, Alexandra, I have already said too much,” she wailed. “Do not ask me anymore. If I had not…it is just that…really, everything was my fault, all my fault.”
At that, she began to sob in earnest.
I wanted to press her to continue regardless, but she was growing more hysterical by the minute. Finally, I had no choice but to drop it, soothing her with comforting tones and rubbing her arm until she calmed down enough to fall asleep.
An hour later, my phone rang and Ada’s name popped up on the screen. It was Alexander. “She’s conscious,” he said. “They’re doing tests to see if she has a brain injury. And they’ve already given her a transfusion. Her count was low again.”
He went on to say that Klara had left a message at the Gundys’, and Alice had called back, saying she would be over shortly. She would give Mammi her supper and spend the night; I was free to go. I asked if he wanted me to come to the hospital and he declined, saying it was kind of me to offer but they were fine. I could only imagine how much Klara didn’t want me there.
I felt icy cold with loneliness as I watched Mammi sleep. I had a sister, but would I be able to have a relationship with her? I had pieces of my past, but would I ever have the whole story?
Alice was all business when she arrived. “When did Frannie eat last?” she asked.
“Lunch, I assume,” I said. It was past seven. “I upset her,” I said, lowering my voice. “I was asking her some questions about the—family.”
Alice didn’t respond as she took a jar of soup out of her basket. “Would you like some?” she asked as she stepped into the kitchen.
I declined, saying I needed to go. I’d heard the Amish were gossipy, but I certainly hadn’t witnessed that. What I wouldn’t give for a good dish on the Lantz family.
As I pulled out onto the highway, hungry, tired, and mad, all my frustration was headed in one direction, the only avenue open to me right now: Marta.
TWENTY-NINE
Eat something,” Marta said. “Let me make you a sandwich.”
I stood in the middle of her kitchen, taking up half the tiny room, my hands on my hips, feeling like a teenager again. I could hardly believe I’d been here a month and was still begging Marta for answers.
“No, just tell me what you know.” I felt like a broken record.
She wasn’t matching my emotions, not at all. “I’ve told you what I know.” She sighed. “I was twelve when you were born. No one confided in me. I don’t know what Mammi told you today, but you know she’s had a stroke and is on medication. I wouldn’t say she’s a trustworthy source.”
“Whom were we born to?”
“I’m pretty sure you already figured that out.”
I glared at her until she answered anyway.
“Giselle. Right? Isn’t that what you discovered?”
“And who is our father?”
“I already told you. It isn’t my place to say.” Marta took her cap off her head and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Okay, then, tell me about Lydia’s first baby.”
Her eyes were no longer kind. “That’s really not your business, is it?”
“Does it have anything to do with Lydia’s death?”
“Of course not.” Marta turned her back to me, stuffing her cap into her pocket, and then washing her hands at the sink. “Now,” she said, her voice even again. “Tell me again what happened to Ada.”
It was Ella, standing in the doorway, who got me out of the house before I exploded. She grabbed her coat and motioned to me. Like a fool, I thought she had some information.
“Sorry,” she said, as we walked beneath the dark, cloud-covered sky toward the bridge. “I just thought you looked the way I feel when I need to get away from Mom.”
I fumed some more—and then shivered. A cold front was moving in. It was mid-April but felt like February. The weather in Pennsylvania was so fickle, I wondered if spring would ever arrive.
“Maybe you should call Sean,” Ella said. “He might have some advice for you.”