Chapter 16 #2
“Nee, only what the Realtor gave me. Chart everything out on paper. See how it will look with the pantry wall torn down—and without it torn down. Talk through the changes to the bathrooms. Make a list of everything you know we’ll need.
Joanna can pull out the file on the farmhouse and you can see how we do it.
The Realtor is bringing the papers up to the hospital this morning—we need to get moving on it as soon as possible.
Call and ask her to unlock the house before she heads this way. ”
“All right.”
“Call me if you have any questions, but don’t tell your grandmother I called you. She’s upset with me.”
“What about?”
“Calling you about work.”
Adam expected him to say more, but he didn’t. “Are you still on the line?”
“Jah. Your grandmother doesn’t know this yet—I’ll tell her when she gets here this morning. But the test results came back, and I’m going to need bypass surgery. Probably on Monday.”
Adam’s own heart lurched. Why? He wasn’t surprised. Of course his grandfather needed surgery.
The volume of Dawdi’s voice decreased. “I don’t want to think about the bills.”
“Don’t,” Adam said.
“I don’t even know if I should have the surgery. I’m getting old.”
“Of course you should have it—you’re only sixty-eight. You could have a good twenty or even thirty years left.”
“Did I ever tell you my father died at forty-nine?”
Adam hesitated and then said, “No. That’s all the more reason for you to have the surgery.”
Dawdi didn’t respond.
“Mammi needs you.” Adam tried to hide the fear in his voice. “I need you.”
When Dawdi didn’t answer, Adam cleared his throat. “Would you ask Mammi to call me when she reaches the hospital?”
“What for?” Dawdi’s voice was low.
Adam walked toward the house. “I just need to talk with her is all.” He wasn’t sure what he should do. Tell Mammi that Dawdi thought the surgery might not be worth it? Go to the hospital instead of back to the Pequea Creek house?
Adam got ahold of the Realtor and then he and Joanna scootered to the house.
As they measured and graphed the floor plan on paper, Joanna took the lead on recording everything.
She was good at math, quickly calculating square feet for the flooring and the counter lengths and cupboard dimensions.
As they measured the last bedroom on the third floor, the cell phone rang.
Adam quickly fumbled it out of the fanny pack.
“Hallo?” He said it a little too loudly as he accidentally let go of the tape measure.
Joanna stepped back and gave him a thumbs up.
“Adam. It’s Mammi. Your Dawdi just remembered you wanted me to call.”
“Jah. How is he? Did he tell you about the surgery?”
“He said it’s an option.”
Adam lowered his voice. “It’s not an option. He needs it.”
She sounded tired. “He said it’s not a guarantee.”
“It’s his best choice,” Adam said. “I knew a Mennonite man in Florida who had bypass surgery in his early seventies. He was ninety-two when I met him.”
“Really?”
“Jah.” Adam stepped to the window that looked directly out on the barn roof. He felt as ragged as it looked. “Don’t let Dawdi make this decision on his own. Talk to the doctor with him.”
“All right,” Mammi said. “Denki.”
“Call me back after you talk to the doctor.” He should have gone to the hospital.
“I’ve got this,” Mammi said. She lowered her voice. “Dawdi has been worried about money—more than usual. But the church mutual fund will help. It won’t be all up to us.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Adam gazed down at the backyard. It was more overgrown than he’d realized.
“We can talk more this evening,” Mammi said. “I’d like it if you came back and saw your Dawdi on Saturday, before any surgery. I’ll be at the house with a few women who are going to come to clean and make meals for next week.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ll do that.”
Saturday morning before going to see Dawdi, Adam went into the office to finish up the file for the Pequea Creek house.
“Need any help?” Joanna stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee in her hand.
Adam shook his head.
She lifted the cup. “This is for you.”
“Denki.” He stood and walked around the desk. “I appreciate your kindness.” She met him halfway.
“How are you doing?” Adam asked as he took the coffee.
“All right.”
She and Jacob hadn’t worked together this week—Adam had made sure of it—but he still wondered if she was comfortable seeing him in the warehouse in the morning and at the end of the day. As he retreated to the desk, he said, “I have a question for you. Please be honest.”
She nodded.
“Do you think we should incorporate the pantry space into the kitchen? Or leave it as it is?”
She sat in the chair across the desk. “I’ve been reading about kitchens lately. I don’t think there’s any reason for a separate pantry. A pantry cabinet can hold as much as a whole room used to. A larger, open kitchen would have more appeal.”
“Denki,” Adam said. “I’ll present the idea to Dawdi and Mammi and see what they think.” He picked up his pen again. “Are you working today?”
Joanna stood. “No. Mammi Lu and I are going to your grandparents’ house to give it a good cleaning and make meals. My Mammi Rhoda and Elaine will be there too, and maybe a couple of other women.” She touched the magazine tucked under her arm. “I left this here yesterday and wanted to pick it up.”
“You made coffee even though you’re not working?”
“Jah. I thought you could use some.”
His heart warmed to match the cup in his hand. She’d done something just for him. “Mammi said Lu, Elaine, and Rhoda were coming over to the house, but I didn’t realize you were too.”
“I am.” Joanna grinned. “Someone needs to supervise the four of them.”
Adam laughed. “That’s true. They seem to be a handful.”
Joanna held up four fingers. “Not quite. They need one more member.”
Adam laughed. “That could be you.”
Joanna shook her head. “I can’t keep up with them, honestly. You should hear some of their stories about when they were our age—well, even younger than us.”
That was an amusing thought, even without any actual stories. Thinking of Mammi Becky and her friends as young women made Adam think of Jacob breaking up with Joanna again. This time he asked, “How are you really doing?”
Joanna wrinkled her nose. “Compared to Ike? To Becky? To you?”
“Nee,” he answered. “Compared to no one. How are you?”
“Oh, you know. Hanging in there.” She shrugged. “See you soon.”
As she turned to leave, Adam wondered again how he could encourage her. Once he finished his work, he had ten minutes before Nick would arrive to take him to the hospital.
Adam riffled through the drawers in Dawdi’s desk until he found a lined piece of paper and an envelope.
Joanna was a words person. She loved to read and take notes and write out everything.
He’d write her a short letter to encourage her, in the cursive handwriting he’d learned in school, not the scratchy printing he used every day.
He wrote,
Dear Joanna,
As you go through this difficult time, I hope you’ll know others are watching over you. Remember, the one who loves and cares for you the most is leading you. I hope you will find encouragement in His guidance and also in the following verse:
For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee. Isaiah 41:13
He debated for a minute how to sign it. Your friend, Adam? Or should it be anonymous? If he signed his name, would she think he was interested in her? Harassing her? Even stalking her? Most likely he would scare her off even more than he already had.
The Lord didn’t want Adam to make it about himself; the Lord valued good deeds done in secret. He decided an anonymous signature would make the letter about Joanna.
Adam signed the note Someone Who Cares, folded the piece of paper, and slipped it into the envelope. Then he wrote Joanna’s name across the front of the envelope and put it on the counter by the coffeepot so she would see it Monday morning.
With the file under his arm he headed out the door, locking it behind him, and waited for Nick. He would do everything in his power to make his grandparents’ business profitable. And he’d do all he could, at the same time, to encourage Joanna.