The Hand that Rocks the Ladle Read Online Free Page A

“Although I must admit, he’s taking it too far. Labor pains, indeed.”
    “But it’s true!” Freni wailed. “I felt the babies kick.”
    Nurse Dudley pointed to her own head, and with a finger almost as thick as my wrists made a circular motion. “She’s just as crazy as he is.”
    “Maybe he’s really sick,” I snapped. “Maybe he has appendicitis.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous—”
    Dr. Luther had put up a quieting hand. “Where exactly does it hurt, Mr. Hostetler?”
    Mose pointed to the lower right quarter of his abdomen. “Here,” he moaned.
    The doctor leaned forward, and using the first two fingers of his right hand, gently palpated Mose’s belly. “Hmm,” he said at last, “there might be something to this appendix theory.”
    Nurse Dudley glared at me. “Just you wait,” she whispered.
    Dr. Luther straightened. “Nurse, get this man into an examining room.”
    The battle-ax didn’t budge. “You’re not falling for their little trick, are you?”
    “Nurse!” Dr. Luther’s stock soared in my eyes.
    “But—”
    “Mama! Papa!”
    Five heads swiveled to look down the hall to the second set of swinging doors. Jonathan Hostetler, still dressed in scrubs, was lurching toward us, a lopsided grin on his face.
    Freni paled. “Ach! My babies! Are they all right?” Jonathan lurched close enough to give his mother a hug, but like me, he was genetically incapable of unnecessary human contact. He looked radiant nonetheless.
    “Little Jonathan and Little Mose are doing fine.”
    “And?” Freni coaxed.
    “And Barbara too.”
    “Ach, that’s not who I mean! How is Little Freni?” Jonathan shook his head. “Sorry, Mama, but there is no Little Freni.”
    Freni gasped, momentarily depleting the hallway of oxygen. “What”—she struggled to say—“what do you mean there is no Little Freni.”
    “He means,” I said gently, “that the third child is a boy.”
    Tears filled Jonathan’s blue eyes, and his lower lip quivered. “No! There is no third child.”
     

Chapter Four
     
    I smiled reassuringly at Freni. “Don’t tease your mama like that, Jonathan. Of course there is a third baby. I drove Barbara into Bedford for all her checkups.”
    Jonathan blinked. “Yah, but still, there are only two babies.”
    Freni was as white as her homemade cottage cheese. “Are you sure?” she asked, lapsing into her native Pennsylvania Dutch.
    “Yah, very sure.”
    I whirled to face Nurse Dudley. “Get Dr. Pierce!” Nurse Dudley recoiled in shock.
    “Go on and get him. He’ll tell you he heard three heartbeats. He’ll tell you he saw three tiny people on the ultrasound screen.”
    “Dr. Pierce,” she said fiercely, “isn’t here.”
    “What? I told Gloria Rediger to call him.”
    Dr. Luther folded his hands, and then opened them, fingertips touching to form a tent. He cleared his throat, adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses, and cleared his throat again.
    “I’m afraid Dr. Pierce is not associated with this hospital.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Yah,” Freni wailed, “explain!”
    Dr. Luther started to smile, and then wisely abandoned the idea. “It means that since we are a small hospital, many of the Bedford physicians can’t be bothered to affiliate. Dr. Pierce was one of them. He did, however, refer a number of his local patients to our staff obstetrician, Dr. Bauer. It was he who delivered the Hostetler infants.”
    “Then get him!” I shouted.
    “Magdalena, please,” Jonathan said, “there is no need. I was there. Just two babies—that’s all I saw.”
    “Gut Himmel!” Mose groaned and collapsed on the floor at our feet.
    Freni shrieked, Jonathan shouted, and I may have added to the din as well. While the three of us vocalized, the burly nurse and evil Luther carried Mose, like a sack of potatoes, into the nearest examining room. We tried to follow, but with one swift kick, Nurse Dudley was able to slam the door in our faces. And though I don’t recall ever seeing