by Beth Wiseman
She wondered if Samuel would work late. He’d worked hard outside all afternoon yesterday, even though it was Sunday, no doubt to keep avoiding her. She’d tried twice to apologize again for not telling him the entire truth, but he said he didn’t want to talk about it. Just like Saturday, last night he’d showered and gone to bed before Lydia had even bathed Mattie. By the time she went to bed, he was curled up and snoring. No outstretched arm. No nook for Lydia to snuggle into. He was mad, and Lydia didn’t blame him. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to plan a perfect date, but they’d slipped back into the relationship they both wanted to abandon. Emotional intimacy seemed to go along with physical intimacy, and at the moment, both were floundering.
Lydia’s stomach growled. “I’m going to heat up the casserole I brought.” She stood.
Fannie groaned. “This is not necessary, you or Samuel coming daily. I’m feeling fine, and Herman is getting his energy back.”
Lydia smiled. “I enjoy our visits.” It was true, and especially since Samuel’s parents were much older than hers, Lydia wanted to make sure they saw Mattie as often as possible. “But I also know privacy is important to you. I’ll talk to Samuel about us not coming by so often, although he worries about both of you.”
Herman smiled. “It’s the boy’s nature, to worry.”
Lydia nodded. “I know.”
As she made her way to the kitchen, she thought about Samuel. Lydia didn’t want him to worry so much. But she wasn’t sure she could abandon her curiosity about Margaret’s sister, who must be out there somewhere—if she was alive. And seeking information about Delila didn’t mean she had to have any contact with Margaret.
* * *
Samuel stared at his food, leftovers from last night’s supper that he’d barely touched. Lydia had made some of his favorites—pork tenderloin, twice-baked potatoes, and roasted green beans.
Joseph walked in with a bag from Taco Bell and held it up. “We had to drive right past it in Bedford. That’s where our last delivery was. And since I walked out and forgot the sandwich mei mamm made for me, I didn’t want to starve.” Chuckling, he pulled out a chair across from Samuel. “I might have forgotten that sandwich on purpose.” He pulled out half a dozen tacos, then eyed Samuel’s plate. “Although that sure looks gut.”
Samuel’s stomach growled, but his appetite seemed to have taken leave. “Ya,” he said softly as he took a bite of the pork.
Joseph unwrapped one of the tacos. “I’m going to guess things did not go well after Beverly and I left Saturday night? Not as you’d hoped?”
“You know how much effort I made to give Lydia the perfect date night she deserves.” Samuel had told his friend only that he was hoping for a romantic night, not that he wanted to make love to his wife for the first time since they’d been married. That felt too personal. “And, ya, I was hoping for . . .” He shrugged, assuming Joseph knew what he meant.
“Ya, ya. I get it. But you’ve got to forgive her, Samuel. You were too hard on her.” Joseph spoke with a mouthful of taco.
“I forgave her.” Samuel hadn’t said the words, but he kept repeating them in his mind, so he’d be able to tell her soon.
“Ha. You’re as sulky as I’ve ever seen you, so I doubt that’s true.” Joseph finished off his first taco and then unwrapped a second one and took a bite.
Samuel took a deep breath and considered letting the comment go, but Joseph was already under his skin. “It upsets me, what she did. And she hid it from me.”
Joseph swallowed. “Ya, I know you were mad at her, but you could have talked it out, forgiven her, and not let it ruin the night. But I’m real soft when it comes to women crying.” He downed the rest of the taco.
“I’m the head of the household.” Samuel heard the way he sounded—childish. But he couldn’t seem to help it. “That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
Joseph chuckled. “You sound like mei daed when mei mamm is winning an argument. Times have changed. Us men don’t get to rule the roost all the time. Mei mamm lets mei daed have the final say, but she puts up a pretty gut fight when she feels strongly about something. Daed once told me he had to choose his battles with Mamm. I reckon that’s how marriage works.”
Samuel wanted to think about Joseph’s comments, which surprisingly made some sense. He didn’t like seeing Lydia cry, and he’d missed her curling up with him in bed. He’d been sure their date would lead to a perfect night together. As Joseph started rambling about his upcoming supper at Beverly’s, Samuel’s mind wandered—back to the drive home from the restaurant, how good it felt to kiss his wife.
By the time he’d finished eating, he’d decided he would apologize to Lydia for being so harsh with her. He would tell her he’d forgiven her and mean it.
* * *
Lydia pulled into Sarah Mae Yoder’s shop around one o’clock and found the old woman knitting behind the counter.
“Wie bischt, Lydia.” Sarah Mae set her knitting needles aside. “What can I help you with?”
Lydia looked around. “Um, I haven’t been here in a while, so I just stopped to browse.”
She couldn’t ask Samuel’s parents more questions without drawing suspicion that her quest to learn more about Margaret and Delila wasn’t over. But Sarah Mae would be about Margaret’s age—like Herman and Fannie were—so Lydia thought she might have more information about the Keim sisters. Besides, if the town had a gossip, Sarah Mae was it. She was a kindhearted woman, but she seemed to know a little bit about everything and everyone, and she didn’t mind sharing what she knew.
“Where’s that precious boppli?” Sarah Mae struggled to stand from the stool she’d been sitting on.
“Mamm is watching her for a little while.” Lydia smiled before she started up and down the narrow aisles and tried to think of something she might need. Sarah Mae carried all kinds of odds and ends—kitchen tools, sewing supplies, handmade blankets, knitted scarves, toys, and even some books. Lydia didn’t think she had more than five dollars in her purse, but she wanted to buy a little something. She chose a set of measuring spoons. Hers were hand-me-downs from her mother, and they were so old she could barely read the faded markings.
After a few more minutes perusing the store’s wares, she made her way back to the counter. “You know, I’ve recently seen the old woman in the blue truck around town.” She paused. “I think her name is Margaret?”
Sarah Mae frowned. “Ya, that’s what I’ve heard, that she’s roaming the streets in that old truck of hers again.” She shook her head. “Something’s wrong with that woman. I wish she could get right.”
“Do you think she’s dangerous?” Lydia found her five-dollar bill and handed it to Sarah Mae.
“Nee, she’s not dangerous. Just crazy.”
Lydia had been wrong. Now that she was standing in front of Sarah Mae, she realized the woman probably had ten years on Herman, Fannie, and Margaret. The lines of time stretched across her face like a road map of a life lived in the sun.
“Hmm . . .” Lydia said as she waited for her change and tried to think of a way to get more information.
Sarah Mae handed Lydia her twenty-eight cents in change. “I heard a fella say he thinks Margaret’s got something called dementia. I don’t know what that is, but I suspect it’s a case of crazy she’s had for a long time.”
Lydia had never heard of dementia either. Was that a form of mental illness? “I-I heard she has a twin schweschder. Someone said her name is Delila.” Lydia glanced up at Sarah Mae as she dropped the change into her purse.
“Ya, she did. But she just up and vanished one day. Those maeds pretty much raised themselves after their parents were killed.” She paused, a faraway look in her eyes. “Car accident. Tourist from somewhere down south plowed right into their buggy and killed them both. The townspeople wanted to take in the girls, but they were sixteen and stayed in their farmhouse. I guess I can understand that.” She shook her head. “It’s a terrible shame Margaret let that haus go the way
she did. I reckon she can’t help it, though.” She tapped a finger to her head, scowling. “You know, with her mind and all.”
“Her schweschder never came back?” Lydia pulled her purse up on her shoulder even though she was in no hurry to go.
Sarah Mae confirmed what Herman and Fannie had said, that Margaret’s sister had been baptized and shunned when she left.
“But she could have come back and redeemed herself, right?”
“Ya, she could have come back. Margaret kept telling people Delila would be back, and I remember her being real angry if anyone suggested otherwise. But months went by, then years. Margaret never heard from her again, as far as anyone knows.”
Lydia thought about the photo on the mantel and wondered again if either Margaret or Delila was the woman in it. “I guess seeing her again made me feel sorry for her.” Lydia shrugged, still trying to appear only mildly interested.
“She’s had plenty of people try to help her over the years, but”—she tapped a finger to her head again—“like I said, she’s ab im kopp.”
Lydia thought about the reasons Margaret might have parked at the end of her driveway. Her in-laws and Sarah Mae didn’t seem to think she was dangerous, but couldn’t crazy be dangerous? A voice in her head said to leave it alone, but she was pretty sure it was Samuel’s voice. Another voice boomed louder and said Help her. Lydia recognized that voice, but she didn’t have a clue what she could do to help Margaret. Apparently, lots of people had tried.
Gott, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to put mei family in danger. If I’m being called to help Margaret somehow, then I need Your guidance.
“Ach, Delila left such a long time ago.” Sarah Mae smiled. “I know we’re taught not to be prideful, but oh my, Margaret and Delila Keim were beautiful girls, inside and out. Everything just seemed to go downhill for them after their parents died. Everyone knew Margaret was a little odd, but she had a sweet nature.” She paused for a long while. “I guess if any of us had known she’d end up like this, we would have tried harder to help her back then.” Lydia heard the regret in Sarah Mae’s voice, but the woman groaned as she waved away her own comment. “But what’s done is done. Margaret won’t let anyone help her, so—I hate to say it—she remains a human eyesore in our community. And she needs a bath.”
Lydia wanted to ask Sarah Mae if she thought Margaret was an eyesore because she reminded everyone how they’d failed her, but that wouldn’t do any good. Sarah Mae hadn’t provided much new information, but Lydia couldn’t seem to shed the feeling that she was supposed to help Margaret. Was this really a calling from God? Or just her relentless curiosity? Either way, she was going to find Delila Keim.
But was it worth the price she’d pay when she told Samuel her plan? Or did she care?
Chapter 16
Samuel had flowers for his wife again, promising to pay Joseph back for this batch on payday as well. He hadn’t realized they’d forgotten the roses in the limousine until later, but that wasn’t the only reason he was bringing Lydia flowers now. He needed them as part of his apology.
When he pulled his horse and buggy to the barn, he was surprised to see her buggy and horse were missing. She was always here when he got home from work, usually with supper ready. Inside the house, he set the flowers on the kitchen table and searched every room. In his heart, he knew she wasn’t there, but visions of Margaret having her tied up somewhere raced through his mind. He flipped open his phone and called her, but no answer.
Pacing the kitchen, he tried to recall a single time he’d come home to an empty house. Once, when Chester had stepped on a piece of glass and Lydia had to call a vet from wherever she was. She’d been late getting home that day. He couldn’t recall any other time.
Maybe she left me. Had he treated her so badly that she decided to stay with her parents? Just the thought caused his eyes to moisten. He vowed right then and there to never make his wife cry again.
He bolted to the front door when he heard a buggy, then breathed a huge sigh of relief when he saw her coming up the driveway. Samuel waited on the porch until she got closer, then he met her at her buggy.
“You scared me. You’re always home when I get here.” He slipped to the other side of the buggy and got Mattie out of her carrier, pressing the baby to his chest. “Where were you?”
“Mamm kept Mattie for a while so I could run some errands.” She raised her chin. “I’m sorry. I’ll get supper started now.”
She was still mad. No doubt about it. But maybe the flowers would help. He followed her into the kitchen, then swooped by her and lifted the flowers from the table. As he pushed them toward her, he said, “I’m sorry about Saturday night. I’m sorry I made you cry. I’m not going to tell you what to do. We’re a partnership.” He forced himself to be quiet since he was beginning to ramble.
Lydia took the flowers. “Danki.” She found a vase, then filled it with water before she shoved the flowers in. Shoved. He was sure that was an accurate description. He’d thought he’d at least get a hug. Something.
She turned around and leaned against the counter. “I’m glad you’re not going to tell me what to do, because today I learned Margaret’s schweschder’s name—Delila. Margaret is sick. She needs help whether she wants it or not. I could be wrong, but I feel like I’m being called by Gott to help her. I can’t get her off mei mind, and I believe the community let her down when she was young. They should have made her accept help.” Her chin got even higher. “I’m going to find Delila.” She folded her arms over her chest and crossed her ankles. Her nostrils flared. She was ready for battle, and that only fueled Samuel’s temper.
“Nee, you’re not,” he said calmly, even though he was shaking with fury on the inside.
She grunted. “You just said you weren’t going to tell me what to do.”
Samuel didn’t like this side of Lydia, but he was sure she didn’t like plenty about him too. “You’re willing to go against mei wishes and put our dochder in danger just to try to help an old woman who doesn’t want help from anyone? I don’t think this is a calling from Gott. The woman has been stalking us.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t been stalking us.”
He came closer to her, still holding Mattie. “You’re doing this just to spite me. But if you want to punish me for making you cry, which I just apologized for, then please do it in some other way. Margaret is dangerous.”
“No, she’s not. And I’m not planning to interact with Margaret. I would just like to find her schweschder to let her know that Margaret is sick in the head.” She put her hands on her hips. “You’re just trying to forbid me from doing this because I haven’t slept with you. It’s your way of trying to control me, and I don’t like it.”
“I-I’m head of the household. What I say goes.” Samuel recalled what Joseph had said, about times changing, but Lydia was pushing every button he had. “And you’re denying me mei husbandly rights!” He regretted it the moment he said it.
Lydia was in his face within seconds, and Samuel felt like they’d just jumped back a year, all that resentment and bitterness worming their way back into their lives. He was trembling, he was so angry.
“Samuel, would you have married me if I hadn’t gotten pregnant? Or even dated me?” Maybe it was because she was yelling, or the fact that Mattie started to cry, but he blurted an answer without thinking.
“Nee!” His eyes widened as his chest tightened. “I didn’t mean that, Lydia.”
She eased Mattie out of his arms and marched from the room with their screaming child. Samuel had never heard his parents bicker in front of him. He’d wanted to carry that over into his own marriage, and he’d already failed before his daughter even had her first birthday.
Samuel hung his head. He felt sick about everything. Mostly, he was worried about Lydia’s involvement with Margaret. His wife might think she was being called by God, but temptations didn’t come from God. Either way, Samuel wasn’t going to let anything happen
to Lydia and Mattie. Maybe he was better off jumping onboard the ship with her instead of letting her capsize on her own—or endanger their daughter.
* * *
Lydia leaned over Mattie and changed her diaper. Then she wiped a tear from her daughter’s face, a tear that had fallen from one of Lydia’s eyes. Mattie had stopped crying and just stared up at her. Lydia tried not to cry in front of Mattie, but she’d failed plenty of times.
“I’m sorry, Mattie,” she said in a whisper before she picked her up and held her close. She pressed her cheek to her baby’s and repeated herself. “I’m sorry.”
She blinked the last of her tears away. Samuel’s answer hurt her more than she’d expected, even though deep down she’d always known it was the truth. They’d had sex in the barn, not dated or fallen in love. They’d been friends who grew up together, were attracted to each other, and succumbed to temptation. They loved each other, but was it the way a husband and wife should?
Lydia also had to consider if there was any truth to Samuel’s saying she’d been withholding sex from him. That might have been true in the beginning. Only sixteen and pregnant, she’d felt cheated out of her running-around period, and she hated that their parents had forced them into marriage. Even though she knew she had to take personal responsibility, she’d resented Samuel’s role in all of that. Yet she thought she’d moved on.
She fed Mattie, bathed her, and eventually got her settled in her crib. Samuel sat out on the front porch the entire time with his head in his hands. Lydia finally went out there and sat down in the other rocking chair.
Samuel didn’t lift his head. “I didn’t mean what I said, about not dating you.”
She heard the shakiness in his voice. She wanted to believe he had just lashed out in anger, that he loved her the way she loved him. Theirs wasn’t the relationship either of them wanted, but they’d been taking baby steps forward. This felt like a giant step backward.
“Don’t you think I want to feel close to you, Samuel . . . in every way?”