by Beth Wiseman
* * *
Samuel didn’t think he’d ever been prouder of Lydia. He’d married a girl who was not only growing into a strong independent woman but was also compassionate, almost to a fault. Maybe he would be her voice of reason if necessary, but he could also learn to be more compassionate from her example. Balance. They had much to learn from each other.
Lydia and Rebecca sat on the couch with Mattie between them.
“You’re a natural grossmudder. That’s what we call grandmothers.”
Mattie giggled every time Rebecca tickled the bottom of her feet. “Do you think so? I’m beside myself excited about being a grandma. You would like my daughter. Actually, you remind me of her, even though she’s probably older than you. She’s levelheaded and calm, and I’m quite sure she would have reacted much better to this situation than I did today.”
“I think you handled it well under the circumstances,” Samuel interjected before he went to the kitchen to get something to drink. As he poured a glass of tea, he thought about their day. No wonder he felt emotionally exhausted. He chugged the tea, then poured two more glasses and went back to the living room, handing one to each of the ladies. They’d already eaten supper, and Rebecca had raved about Lydia’s pork tenderloin. Samuel thought Rebecca was a likeable person. It had been hard to watch her suffering so much, and it was nice to see her laughing and playing with Mattie.
“If you still think you want to restore your mother’s house, I can refer you to several contractors who will do a good job for a fair price.” Samuel didn’t want to dampen her mood, but he wanted her to know he could help. She didn’t know anyone else here.
“The more I think about it, the more I would like to restore it, so I appreciate that, Samuel.”
Someone began beating on the door. Now that the September air was cooler, they kept the doors and windows closed, and amid the laughter and Mattie’s giggles, Samuel hadn’t heard a buggy pull in.
When he opened the inside door, Joseph already had his hand on their storm door, and he pulled it open and burst into the room. “I’m doing it. I love her. I’m doing it.” He paced back and forth, not even noticing Lydia and Rebecca on the couch with Mattie, shaking his head. “I love that woman, and I’m going to marry her. I’m doing it! I’m going to her haus and—”
Joseph finally saw Lydia and Rebecca with the baby. “Uh, hello,” he said as his eyes widened. Then he took off his hat and bowed at the waist, which couldn’t have looked any goofier. “My apologies, ladies.”
“Well, hello there,” Rebecca said, smiling. “You sound like a man in love.”
“Most definitely.” He straightened and held out his hand. “I’m Joseph.”
“Nice to meet you, Joseph. I’m Rebecca.”
Samuel chuckled. “I’m glad you enjoyed Lydia’s delicious meal, but Joseph is our entertainment.”
“Ha-ha.” Joseph rolled his eyes at Samuel before he looked back at Rebecca. “When a man makes up his mind about something as important as spending the rest of his life with the woman he loves, it seems worthy of spreading the news.”
“I agree.” Rebecca gave him a quick nod.
Samuel smiled. Rebecca’s world had been rocked, and earlier she seemed to be drowning in pain and tears. Now, as she laughed, played with Mattie, and tolerated Joseph, she looked like a different woman.
Samuel laughed when Joseph asked Rebecca if she wanted to hear a joke.
Gott always has a plan. Samuel had a plan, too—even though the timing for it wasn’t right just yet.
Chapter 23
Beverly’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Joseph tethering his horse in front of her house. Then she cringed. This would be the second time he caught her in her robe. She grabbed a scarf and covered her head.
“What are you doing here?” she said when she opened the door. She didn’t think her heart could take another blow. Was the man here to chastise her for lying even more? But why would he do that when he’d said he’d forgiven her?
“May I come in?” He sounded unusually formal. Maybe he was nervous. Or had something happened? Maybe to Samuel or Lydia? Or to Mattie?
She stepped aside. “Is everything okay? Are the Bontragers all right?”
“Everyone is fine.” Joseph took off his hat. “But everything is definitely not okay.”
Beverly swallowed with difficulty and found her voice. “What’s wrong?”
Joseph took a step closer to her. “It angered and upset me that you lied to me.”
Beverly hung her head. “Joseph, I . . .” They’d been through all this. Didn’t he think she’d been punished enough?
He gently cupped her chin and brought her gaze in line with his. “Even though I forgave you, I still thought I could be without you. But I was wrong.” He lowered his hand back to his side and moved closer as his lips slowly descended to meet hers. It was a gentle kiss but packed with emotion. “I don’t want to be without you,” he whispered before he kissed her again.
Beverly savored the moment and thanked God for bringing Joseph back to her.
“Can you stay a while? Let me get dressed, and I’ll make coffee.”
“I’d like that very much.” He smiled. “We can talk about our future and those ten kinner.”
Beverly smiled, knowing it was much too soon for Joseph to propose, but she felt warm all over, ecstatic he was talking about a future together again.
“And there’s lots to tell you about Margaret.” Joseph sat down on the couch.
She hadn’t heard from Lydia in a while. Her friend knew she’d been working extra hours lately and wanted to spend all her free time with Susan. “I can’t wait to hear. I’ll go get dressed.” But she didn’t move. She wasn’t ready to take her eyes off him.
“Do you need something?” He raised an eyebrow.
She smiled. “Nee. I’m just very happy you’re here.”
“I know. I have that effect on people.” He flashed his boyish grin but quickly sobered. “I’m glad I’m here too.”
* * *
Lydia and Rebecca stood outside Margaret’s door the following morning. Rebecca wanted to carry Mattie, saying it was good practice for her.
“How do we explain who we are?” A muscle in Rebecca’s jaw quivered, and Lydia could sense her nervousness.
“We could tell her the truth, but if she becomes aggravated, then maybe just go along with her. What do you think?”
“I guess so.”
Lydia pushed open the door and let Rebecca and Mattie go in first, then she stepped into the room. Margaret was propped up in bed, looking much better than she had the day before. She had a little color in her face, and someone had braided her gray hair to one side. The large bandage covering the wound on her head had also been replaced with a smaller Band-Aid.
Margaret’s gaze ping-ponged between them as her bottom lip quivered. Lydia was waiting for her to identify who she believed everyone to be, but as Margaret blinked back tears, Lydia was pretty sure they’d made a mistake. She eased Mattie from Rebecca’s arms. “Do you want to hold Rebecca?”
Lydia would have to stand right by the bed to make sure Mattie didn’t fall, but she held Mattie under her shoulders and began to lift her over the railing. Margaret shook her head.
“Nee, nee.” Her eyes stayed on Rebecca, so Lydia took a step back with Mattie. “I want a mirror,” Margaret said as annoyance hovered in her gaze.
Lydia didn’t have one, but Rebecca dug in her purse and took out a small compact. “Here you go.” She opened it and gave it to Margaret, who held it close to her face. She stared at her reflection, then at Rebecca, then back into the mirror. She did that several times before tears broke loose.
“You’re Rebecca, mei grown dochder.”
Rebecca put a hand over her mouth as her own eyes filled with tears. She nodded, and stepping closer, she lowered her hand. “Yes, I am.”
Lydia smiled, but her stomach churned. Margaret’s state of mind could change on a whim, and Lydia d
idn’t want to see Rebecca more emotionally scarred than she already was.
“You’re very pretty.” Margaret smiled, tipping her head to one side.
Rebecca pulled the small chair to the bed, sat down, and found Margaret’s hand. “You’re very pretty too.” Her voice shook, but there was no mistaking the joy in her voice. It had to feel good to have her mother recognize her.
Margaret turned to Lydia and Mattie. “Are you friends of mei dochder’s?”
Again, the sting of Margaret not knowing them felt oddly uncomfortable. “Ya, we are. I’m Lydia, and this is mei dochder, Mattie.” Lydia pointed to the door. “We can just wait outside.”
No one argued with her, and she turned to go. But when she looked over her shoulder at Margaret and Rebecca still holding hands and smiling, she knew things were as they should be.
As she paced outside in the hallway, bouncing Mattie on her hip, Daisy came from around the nurses’ station. Another nurse had been there when they arrived. Lydia forced a smile—although she felt like crying, and she wasn’t sure why. “Margaret recognizes her daughter, so I’m giving them some time alone.”
Daisy put a hand on Lydia’s arm, and they shared an all-knowing look. Sighing, the woman said, “Sometimes the good Lord calls us for situations we can’t foresee. You looked after Margaret until her daughter could be reunited with her. You did a good thing.”
Lydia tried to smile again. “She might not know her tomorrow. She might think I’m her daughter again.” A tiny part of Lydia hoped Margaret had a recollection of her and Mattie, although she didn’t want to take anything away from Rebecca.
“She might,” Daisy said softly. “Now that we know Margaret has family, we had to ask Mrs. Henderson if she’d give us permission to talk to you about her condition. I asked her myself when she called this morning, assuming you’d want to know. Anyway, if I don’t get a chance to tell her myself, let her know that several doctors met to discuss Margaret’s case. Some of her medications weren’t playing well together, so they changed them. She’s much more lucid and seems to understand where she is and what’s happening.” Pausing, she shook her head. “It won’t change the outcome. She’ll continue to deteriorate, in both mind and body. But for now, it sounds like God blessed her daughter by gifting her this time with Margaret.” She patted Lydia’s arm again before she returned to her desk.
Rebecca came out of the room about thirty minutes later.
“I’m sorry I was in there so long. She told me stories about her childhood, about swinging on the tire swing, playing at the lake, and making homemade ice cream on the porch, all with her sister.” She shook her head. “I heard some of the same stories from my mother, but in each tale, she was an only child.”
“Why do you think Delila never brought you to visit your mother?” It seemed heartless to Lydia. “Did she never check on her, see if she was okay? Please don’t think I’m being critical, because I’m sure your mother must have had her reasons, but it’s confusing because it sounds like they were close when they were girls.”
“Apparently, Delila did bring me for visits when I was young.” Rebecca looked past her for a moment. “I have the tiniest memories of that, but nothing clear. It explains why the house felt familiar to me when I walked in, though. Delila said that, over time, she grew to believe it would be cruel to keep returning. She knew Margaret wouldn’t understand, but she really thought her sister would forget she’d even had a baby. Like I said, Delila sent her cash every month, although she confessed that she never paid taxes on the property. Peter and I will take care of that soon.”
They started walking down the hallway toward the exit. “What did she think would become of Margaret?” Lydia was trying to tread lightly, because no matter what, Delila had been Rebecca’s mother, biological or not.
“I know Delila must sound like a heartless woman,” Rebecca said as she pushed a button to unlock the car. After they had Mattie in the car seat and were both inside, she continued. “She thought she was protecting me, if not from actual harm, then from a life unsuitable for a child. She wrote to several neighbors, asking about Margaret, but no one wrote back. She also mentioned none of them were Amish, though. Delila and Margaret had given up most of the Amish ways, breaking ties with the community, so she didn’t think the Amish would still know her sister. If she’d known how horribly my mother was living, though, I’m sure she would have done something.”
She paused for a moment, as though reassuring herself that was true.
“Anyway, she told me she left most of the money they had when she took me away—whatever was still left out of the money their parents had saved. Maybe it was just enough for my mother to get that truck and eke out an existence until Delila sent her more.”
She started the engine but didn’t put the car in gear. Instead, she held the steering wheel and looked down. “I had a wonderful childhood, and I loved my parents very much. But I’m not excusing what Delila did. It was all at Margaret’s expense.”
Lydia agreed, but she wanted to say something kinder. “I’m sorry for your recent loss of Delila. You must feel overwhelmed.”
Rebecca turned to face her and smiled. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.” Lydia glanced at Mattie in the back seat and hoped Rebecca wouldn’t put her in a position to explain that Mattie was conceived before marriage. She did have that one thing in common with Margaret. But she wouldn’t lie if Rebecca questioned her.
“My daughter is thirty-three.” She put the car in gear and backed up. “But you have the wisdom of someone her age.”
Lydia smiled. “Thank you for saying so.”
After they were on the road, Rebecca said, “Oh. I need to take care of one thing, but I’ll take you and Mattie home first. It’s a task I’m dreading, though. Someone got my phone number and left a message, saying Margaret’s truck is at the police station. I have to do something about it—or at least whatever’s in it.”
Lydia was quiet for a few moments as she thought about how hard seeing that truck would be for Rebecca, much less going through everything in it. “You don’t have to take me home first,” she said. “I’ll go with you. We can go through her belongings together.”
“Wow. God certainly blessed Margaret—and me—when He put you on our path. That would be so nice, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“I’m happy to help.” I’m sorry, Gott. She’d promised not to lie, and she just had. Again, she wished for a time when lying wouldn’t be for the good of a cause because, in reality, she knew a person shouldn’t lie at all. She could have done without ever seeing that truck again.
Then she remembered what Daisy said. “While you were still in Margaret’s room, one of the nurses told me they changed her medications, and they think that’s why she’s making more sense of things right now. But she’ll still become confused as she continues to decline.”
Rebecca sighed. “That will be hard to watch. She talked so much about her house, which surprised me, since you said she mostly lived in her truck.”
“I honestly don’t know how much she went to the house. We saw her sleeping in the truck all over town, but then she would disappear for long periods of time. Maybe she stayed at the house more than we know. And she had to be the one who cleaned the nursery. She might have been waiting for Ben to return, too, secretly hoping to still get married in her home and raise a family with him. But one day she told me he was dead, and then she told me he wasn’t, so I don’t know if you’ll ever know what’s true.”
Rebecca rubbed her forehead, then sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever try to find him. It’s all so sad. If the house was in good shape, I’d ask to take Margaret there so she could see it again. But I don’t know how she’d react. Right now, she seems to think it’s beautiful inside, as if she’s remembering the way it was decorated and clean when she was younger. She might have a huge setback, seeing it like it is.”
Lydia asked Rebecca to stop by her mother’s house, which
was on the way to the police station. Again, she lucked out. Her mother was home and free to babysit Mattie. There was no telling what might be in that truck. It was cool enough to leave Mattie in her car seat with the windows down in Rebecca’s car, but she’d fuss if she was in there too long.
As they pulled in front of the station, Rebecca’s eyes widened when she saw the blue truck parked to the left of the entrance. “Please tell me that’s not it.”
“Ya, I’m afraid so.”
Rebecca pressed her lips together as her eyes grew teary. “I guess I better get it over with.” Lydia wondered how much more this woman could take.
They went inside, and after Rebecca filled out the paperwork, the officer told her they could use the dumpster next to the building to get rid of everything they didn’t want. Lydia saw several officers milling around within earshot, but when none of them offered to help, she was glad she’d come along.
Outside, Rebecca put her hands on her hips, stared at the truck, then sighed. “Are those nearly dead tomato plants?”
“Ya.” Lydia had never been this close to the truck, except the day she found Margaret hunched over the steering wheel.
Rebecca wore black slacks and a black-and-white sweater. She wasn’t dressed for this kind of work, but she lowered the tailgate. “How did she even get a driver’s license?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t have one.” Lydia fought the gag in her throat. The smell was awful, and she worried what they might find. “But if she didn’t have a license, I’m sure she would have been arrested a long time ago.”
Rebecca lifted herself onto the tailgate and eyed the contents. She picked up a small barbecue grill and handed it to Lydia. It was rusted and missing a leg. Lydia carried it to the dumpster and tossed it in.
They found a lawn chair, a fishing pole, a can half filled with gasoline, an old rug that was crusty and rolled up in one corner, and dozens of Coke cans. They also found a box of cleaning supplies, which seemed odd until Lydia remembered how clean the nursery was. Little by little, Rebecca handed the items to her, and she carried it all to the dumpster.