“He seems fine now,” Joseph said. “And I will be sure to tell Samuel how well the bopplin slept in his cradle. Did you see how his face fell?”
As if on some unspoken cue, Lil’ Bit let out a monstrous, agonizing wail. Rebekah leaned to get him, but Joseph was faster. “Come here, little buwe.” He plucked him up like a tiny turnip. “Have you given any thought as to who you would like to use as our hired maedel?”
Rebekah thought about the Old Order Amish custom of taking a young, unmarried girl from the village into the postpartum home. Sure, it helped gently introduce the younger girls to what married life in the Amish home looked like and consisted of, but it also provided a young lady to help around the home of someone who really needed the assistance.
Rebekah had never given much credence to the custom and, since she had always secretly wondered if she would ever even get to be a mother to a bopplin of her own, she had never considered having a hired girl in her home.
The young girl would be provided a wage for helping with cooking, dishes, laundry, and cleaning while also helping with anything the new mother and baby might need. In other words, she would be a right-hand-woman. However, given the level of exhaustion she felt now and how much Lil’ Bit did not sleep, Rebekah found herself wishing she had her hired girl already in order.
She looked at her husband and shrugged. Pains shot so sharply through her breasts that she winced. “No, I have not really given it much thought.” She thought briefly about all the young girls in the village. “Perhaps Molly Raber?”
Molly was almost thirteen and was a friend of Thomas’s. In fact, Molly was the only person, boy or girl, who could beat Thomas in a footrace, a fact which did not sit well with her freckle-faced bruder.
“Molly would be a good choice,” Joseph said. “As long as no races are to be run, there should be no problem.”
“Molly it is,” Rebekah agreed.
“It is decided then. I can make the arrangements once the grossmammis have to go home to their own families.”
“That may be never if they are oll ready having sleepovers.”
Joseph, obviously over the moon over his buwe, despite the screeching, shifted from foot to foot at the end of the bed. “How much do you reckon he weighs?”
“Eight pounds I would say, though I have not gotten to hold him much.”
“Your fater will weigh him tomorrow officially. But my guess is four pounds. Maybe five.”
Rebekah reached for him. “Perhaps I can try to feed him now.”
Joseph shrugged. “Custom says we wait until your milk comes in, but I am certainly not going to tell you no.”
Rebekah, remembering Katie’s letter, hefted her whimpering son. “You don’t think he could be closer to, say, ten pounds?”
Joseph answered quickly. Too quickly. “There is no way. He is much too small.”
Rebekah looked down at her tiny buwe. It was true, he was thin. And long. And perfect. “He also decided to come a bit before bopplins usually come, no?”
Joseph, still grinning, nodded. “I cannot imagine the time you would have had if Lil’ Bit was as big as bopplin Ruth.”
Rebekah put him to her breast. “I think he is beautiful.” He latched on at once.
“He sure is.” Joseph leaned over and tweaked Lil’ Bit’s nose. The bopplin unlatched and commenced to wail.
Rebekah tried not to look exasperated as she switched sides. Still, Joseph’s comparative words stung her in tender, unseen places. “Besides, if Lil’ Bit had stayed inside a while longer, he may have been bigger than Katie’s bopplin.”
Joseph went to stroke Lil’ Bit’s nose again, but Rebekah moved away. “Most women carry nine months, right to the end of that ninth month even,” she said again.
Who are you trying to convince, Rebekah? Joseph? Or yourself?
She shook her head to try and clear the troublesome musings of her conscience. “Lil’ Bit just decided to come early is all.”
Wide-eyed, Joseph shook his head innocently. “I did not mean anything by that Rebekah. You know that.” He smiled widely. “I just meant that Amish women usually have large, healthy bopplin—” He stopped talking, his faced flooding with red.
Lil’ Bit unlatched again and commenced to shriek, a shrill, hurting shriek. Rebekah closed her eyes and bounced him in her arms. She tried to keep her voice low and even as she answered her husband. “So, what you are saying is, the fact that my natural parents were Englischer is the reason that Katie’s bopplin is perfect and my bopplin is skinny and sickly?”
Joseph, red-faced and silent, said nothing. He turned and walked out of the room without looking back, leaving Rebekah and a screeching bopplin alone in the bedroom that had been the site of many miracles. Up until now.
***
Rebekah held her bopplin helplessly. With each fresh round of screaming, his stomach hardened, and he kicked out, straight legged. She wanted to cry, but even more than that, she wanted to help her bopplin. He was hurting and, as his mater, she was supposed to know how to fix him. How to make him better.
Elnora crept into the room. “Hallo. May I?”
The sparkle in her mater’s eyes reassured Rebekah that unlike her, Elnora knew exactly what to do.
Failure!
Rebekah forced a smile and tried not to let her frustration show. “Of course, Grossmammi.”
Elnora took the bopplin carefully. “It will become easier, Rebekah. I will show you. However, first you must rest and recover.” Her mater winked at her. “And the most important thing for you to do right now is do not worry.”
“I will try.”
Elnora held Lil’ Bit out in front of her and bounced him up and down while talking to him in low, rhythmic tones. She never gave her daughter a second look as she swayed out of the room, Lil’ Bit in hand.
Rebekah gave a little smile, secretly glad to be rid of the motherly duties for the night. Almost at once and without much say in the matter, she gave in to the urgings of her aching muscles and allowed herself to fall asleep.
What sleep she got was not restful, however, and was plagued with fitfulness and strange dreams. She hoped her mother would come back to visit her, but nobody made any appearance. In fact, her dreams were fast-paced versions of farm life, playing out much too quickly, but featuring no people.
Deep in the night, she woke with a start, as though she had not slept at all. “Joseph?” The word flew off her tongue with an urgency she had not intended.
No answer.
“Joseph,” she whispered into the silence that engulfed her. Her heart pounded, and she was not sure why.
He did not come to bed. She thought for a moment. I am not surprised. I have been terrible to him.
With Lil’ Bit tucked up safe and sound with Elnora and Heloise, she slid out of bed. I need to find Joseph. And apologize for my terrible behavior.
Dizzy and unsteady, she stepped into the hallway. I hope he is nearby. I do not think I can navigate the stairs. A flicker of lantern light illuminated Joseph’s outline at the far end of the hall. She smiled, mostly from gratefulness that she found him so quickly, and from gratefulness that she found him at all.
She leaned against the wall for support and managed her way down the hall, one footstep at a time, toward his hunched-over frame. The closer she got, the more she noticed that he was moving. Well, that his hand was anyway. “Joseph?”
He jumped.
“Oh, um, Rebekah.” Through stuttering syllables, he slid something under his arm. “I was not expecting you to be awake. Elnora said—”
“What are you doing down here in the middle of the night?” She was powerless to stop the inquisitive words from spewing forth from her mouth, like croaks from an angry frog. She glanced at the desk where he sat. A quill pen and ink well, notably open, lay there as though both were freshly used.
