The Amish Seamstress Read Online Free PDF Page B

They seemed to be able to shovel in the food quickly, wipe her mouth, and then give her another spoonful.
    I couldn’t do that. For one thing, Mimi seemed fascinated by me. Perhaps it was my kapp or my Plain dress, but she couldn’t take her eyes off me and always chewed and swallowed more slowly for me than the others. Because she couldn’t tell me her stories, I’d been telling her mine—or, more accurately, the stories my grandmother had passed down to me about her childhood during the depression and as a teenager during World War II. I wanted Mimi to be able to compare her experiences with someone in the U.S., a Plain someone and conscientious objector at that.
    After I finished feeding her, I had two more patients who were also bedridden. Of course, I took too long with them as well, and by the time I finished, it was nearly time for my break. Before I took it, I stopped by Phyllis’s room again, hoping to tell her hello, but she still wasn’t there.
    Mimi was sound asleep, her feet sticking out of her covers, so I pulled the blanket down over them as I thought about Phyllis. I decided her sonmust have taken her out for lunch. I knew how much she loved those dates with him.
    For the next hour, even though I should have gone to the break room to eat my own lunch, I hurried from patient to patient, seeing to all of their needs. To be honest, my mind continued to fall on Zed, but the urgency of finding another blanket, fluffing a pillow, or changing a spilled-upon shirt pulled me back to the present much faster than my instructor’s lecture had. All in all, I felt pleased with how little I was thinking about him as the day progressed.
    When I returned to Phyllis and Mimi’s room again, Phyllis still hadn’t appeared but Mimi was awake. I raised her bed and opened the curtain to the sunshine out in the courtyard. She smiled sweetly.
    On my way out of the room, I nearly collided in the hall with the shift supervisor. After apologizing, I said, “I hope Phyllis gets back before I leave.”
    The supervisor’s face froze.
    Alarmed, I asked, “What is it?” I feared my favorite patient had been transferred to another facility. Although that didn’t make sense. Her things were still in the room.
    â€œNo one told you?” the woman stammered, holding a clipboard to her chest.
    I shook my head, studying her expression as the realization slowly dawned. Phyllis hadn’t been transferred.
    She had died.
    I tried to take a breath but couldn’t. I gasped, an odd groan coming from my throat. Perhaps I looked as if I might faint, because the supervisor grasped my elbow to steady me. Another noise erupted from me, this one sounding like a cow lost in the woods.
    From where we stood, I could see into Phyllis’s room, to the empty but perfectly made bed. I forced my eyes toward sweet Mimi instead. She smiled and gave me a little wave, her faded eyes lighting up as best they could.
    How could I not have known?
    â€œPhyllis passed,” the supervisor whispered to me.
    I returned my gaze to her face. “But why? How?”
    She shrugged. “I know she seemed fairly healthy, but she did have a heart condition. It finally caught up with her, I imagine. That’s my best guess, anyway.”
    â€œWhen?” I managed to rasp. “When did it happen?”
    â€œThis morning, around ten.”
    Around ten. My mind raced. At ten, I’d still been in class, taking notes, or trying to. More likely I’d been thinking about Zed.
    I felt weak, as though I might pass out.
    The strange thing was, I wasn’t even sure why. I had really liked Phyllis and cared about her, but it wasn’t as if we had ties outside of this place. I had known her for all of three weeks, yet now the news of her death was hitting me as hard as if she had been one of my own beloved relatives.
    The supervisor, Heather, must have sensed the depth of my reaction, because she