The Amish Midwife - By Mindy Starns Clark Page 0,123

Marta’s lawyer was much more efficient than I expected because Thursday morning she called, saying another pretrial hearing was scheduled for the next day.

Marta seemed to assume I would go with her. Connie Stanton met us outside the second-floor courtroom, looking as disheveled as ever.

“I have more good news,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I had a long talk with the DA.” Her eyes sparkled. “He may still charge you with practicing without a license, but it looks as though he’s probably not going to challenge our request for dismissal. The man’s leaving to take a corporate job soon, so it’s a good time for this to come up. I had the impression that he’d like to close up as many cases as he can before his time here is up.”

We followed Connie through the double doors and down the aisle. I stopped at the first row and slid onto the wooden bench while Marta and her lawyer continued on to the table on the right. The DA sat at the table to the left. Because the hearing had only been posted the day before, word hadn’t gotten out and no supporters were present. The four of us rose at the bailiff’s command and the judge entered. A moment later we all sat again. The bailiff stated the reason for the hearing and Connie stepped forward to present the new evidence. The judge held up his hand, stopping her. “I’ve already reviewed the documents you submitted, Ms. Stanton.” The judge turned his attention to the DA and asked if he’d had a chance to consider the new information.

“Yes, your honor,” the man answered.

“And how do you respond to Ms. Stanton’s request that Lancaster County drop the charges of negligent homicide against Mrs. Bayer?”

The DA dropped his head a moment, referring to the legal pad in front of him. Finally he looked up. “Due to the new evidence, I accept the request.”

I put the palms of my hands together in a silent clap. Ella and Zed wouldn’t be losing their mother.

“Counsel members, do we have any other issues to address?”

Connie Stanton replied with a firm, “No, your honor.”

I held my breath as the DA consulted his legal pad again, hoping the man was more concerned about his upcoming career change than some old midwife. If he was, Marta might be able to practice again soon, very soon. I would no longer be needed. But I didn’t have my answers. I still didn’t know the truth. And I, undeniably, felt a connection of kinship with my biological relatives, although some more than others. I was going to miss Ella and Zed and, honestly, Marta too, as annoying as she was.

The DA raised his head. “No, sir,” he finally said. “There’s nothing more that needs addressing.”

The palms of my hands came together again as I exhaled.

“You are cleared of all charges, Mrs. Bayer,” the judge said. “The legal forms will be mailed to you within two weeks.”

Maybe Marta was in shock or maybe she expected it all along, but as we walked out the door she barely talked to Connie. And she didn’t say a word to me until I pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.

Then she whispered, “Thank you.” Her voice hinted that she was close to tears. “You can go now and get on with your life. Leave all of us behind.”

Now I was close to tears. Was that what she wanted? For me to simply disappear and leave her and her family alone? How could I explain to her I didn’t want to depart without my story, the one I’d already asked her for so many times? Not yet. Not until I had the whole truth.

She exhaled and then said, “I can’t wait to get back to work.”

“The afternoon appointments are all yours.”

“Since my first birth, I knew this is what I wanted to do,” she said.

I told her it was the same for me and gave a brief description of that first experience assisting Sophie. Then I asked how old she was at her first delivery.

“Fourteen,” she answered.

“Who was it?”

“The mother? Or baby?”

Before I could say anything, she said, “Ada was the baby.” Before the words sank in, she added, “And Giselle the mother.”

I took a ragged breath.

“And, Lexie, you’re mistaken. You didn’t see your first birth when you were sixteen. You were only two. You assisted me.”

THIRTY

Assisted you? In Ada’s birth?”

Truly, I didn’t understand what she was saying. When I