Perhaps he could take her to supper after they completed their errands in Highland Springs. Tessa said she disliked cooking, but eating was a necessity, so it wasn’t as if he’d be crossing a line by inviting her to have supper with him in a public place. Yes, that’s what he’d do. He felt another surge of energy, and he hummed as he went inside and washed the dishes. Then he looked around the parlor and decided it needed tidying, too. By the time he had finished, he felt drained again, but as he lay in bed he realized he’d spent the last hour thinking about something other than his sister’s predicament and he didn’t even feel guilty. He felt... He felt hopeful. With a smile curling his lips, he fell into a sound sleep.
The next day when Turner arrived at the shop, Mark asked how he felt.
“Gut. Like a new man.”
“Ruby’s supp has that effect on me, too,” Mark said and Turner grinned. It wasn’t the soup he was thinking about; it was sharing the soup with Tessa.
He smiled again later that afternoon when Tessa and Mercy arrived at his house. He took the basket from Tessa with one hand and held the door open with the other.
“Look at you!” Tessa exclaimed. “I guess you were ready to go back to work after all—your eyes are absolutely luminous today.”
Turner was glad she immediately began unpacking Mercy’s things from the large canvas tote bag and didn’t notice if his ears were as red as they felt. Was she complimenting his eyes? No woman had commented on his appearance like that before, so he wasn’t sure whether to say thank you or not. “What has this kind been eating?” he asked, picking up Mercy and weighing her in one hand. “She seems twice as heavy as she was a few days ago.”
Mercy cooed at him and he kissed the top of her head, which smelled like lavender; it smelled like Tessa.
“She’s been smiling ever since she woke from her nap,” Tessa said. “She must be happy she gets to stay at your house with you again.”
But Tessa wasn’t out the door for more than twenty seconds before Mercy started to snivel. Turner rocked from side to side, trying to pacify her. “It’s all right, Mercy. Tessa will be back again soon,” he said. Turner’s words didn’t have any effect on Mercy’s whimpering, but they sure made him feel happy.
* * *
After Faith, Anna, Katie and Tessa finished eating the yumasetta casserole Katie prepared, along with the marinated carrots and peas Anna brought, they did the dishes and tidied the kitchen together. Then Faith brought out her famous apple fry pies.
“Let’s have these in the parlor with tea,” Katie suggested.
Wiping her hands on her apron, Tessa replied, “I’m afraid I don’t have any tea.”
“That’s okay. They go just as well with milk.”
“I haven’t got milk, either.”
“No tea and no milk?” Katie shook her head and pulled open the pantry door. “Look, there’s nothing in here except a can of soup and half a box of noodles! You call that a pantry? Honestly, Tessa, sometimes I worry about you.”
Tessa snorted. “You remind me of Mamm. I’m sorry, but I didn’t get around to shopping yet this week.”
“How could you ‘not get around’ to shopping for food?” Katie squinted at her. When Tessa didn’t respond, she said, “You aren’t working at Schrock’s, so how have you been spending your days?”
“I’m not sure that’s your concern,” Tessa replied, “but I’ve been giving the house a thorough cleaning and catching up on projects I didn’t do when I was working.”
Apparently, Faith and Anna sensed the hint of tension because they casually moved into the parlor. It was unusual for the Fisher sisters to argue, especially in front of anyone else. Tessa pulled four small dishes from the cupboard, keeping her back to her sister as she placed the fry pies on the plates.
“I’m not as irresponsible as you think I am,” she said. If you only knew how I’d spent my week, you’d understand why I didn’t go shopping.
“I didn’t say you’re irresponsible,” Katie protested. A long silence followed until she said, “Now that I look around, I can see how much work you’ve been doing. The floors never shone like this when I lived here and they still don’t in my new house. I asked how you’re spending your days because I worry you’re lonely. I understand you like living alone—but being alone all day? That’s not like you. You’ve got such a social personality I was afraid you were... I don’t know, depressed or something, now that you’re not working in town. I’m also worried you might not have enough money for groceries. Mason and I can help you if—”
“Lappich gans!” Tessa called Katie a silly goose before pulling a tin from the back of the cupboard. She pried off the top and showed its contents to her sister. “See? I have plenty of money. But I appreciate your offer anyway, dear sister.”
The pair spontaneously embraced, their rift mended as quickly as it had begun. “I’m glad you’re managing financially,” Katie said over Tessa’s shoulder. “But I know you well enough to know you need daily interaction with others. What are you doing for fellowship? What are you doing for schpass?”
Tessa didn’t know if caring for Mercy could be considered “fun,” and she couldn’t have told Katie about it even if she did, so instead she answered her sister’s question by saying, “For schpass, I’m planning a potluck supper with you and Faith and Anna. Kumme, let’s eat dessert.”
They carried the fry pies to their friends waiting in the parlor, but Anna declined, saying she felt a bit nauseated. Then she patted her stomach. “Besides, my tummy is going to be big enough in a few months’ time as it is.”
Usually the Amish didn’t discuss their pregnancies, sometimes not even publicly acknowledging they were expecting until the baby was born. But Katie and Tessa had been tight friends with Anna since they moved to Willow Creek, and they’d recently gotten to know Faith better, too, since she was Katie’s sister-in-law. Because neither Anna nor Faith had sisters of their own, the four young women gathered on sister days for quilting, canning, gardening and other projects. Chatting as they worked, they sometimes confided news about their lives they wouldn’t necessarily share with others.
“That’s wunderbaar!” Faith leaned over and squeezed her friend’s arm.
“Wunderbaar!” Katie echoed.
“What a blessing!” Tessa exclaimed. “You’re going to love cuddling the bobbel, feeding her, watching her sleep... Wait until the first time she smiles because she recognizes you’ve kumme into the room. It will melt your heart.”
Tessa didn’t realize she was crooking her arm the way she did when she held Mercy until Anna replied, “Look at you! You seem as excited about motherhood as I am.”
“Neh, not Tessa,” Faith objected. “She likes living alone and working at Schrock’s too much to ever get married and become a mamm. Right, Tessa?”
Unlike the Englisch, most Amish women gave up their jobs outside their homes once they got married, and virtually all of them quit working when their babies were born. Some mothers later returned to work in their family businesses, but not until their children were much older, and even then they kept their offspring close by. Faith understood better than anyone the appeal of being a single Amish woman living alone and working outside her home because she’d done it herself for a year before getting married. So Tessa knew her remark wasn’t meant as criticism, but she felt prickled all the same. It’s not that I’ve changed my mind about my plans, but who’s to say I won’t at some point? It was a peculiar thought for her to have, considering all she was doing in order to keep her current living situation as it was.
“Well, that might be true right now, but...” she mumbled.
“But first she has to meet a suitor worthy of her devotion,” Katie finished for her. “Which is part of the reason we wanted you to join us for supper tonight.”
Even in front of her close friends, Tessa was mortified. “I only agreed to host a p
otluck supper. Don’t go planting any celery just yet,” she said, referring to the Amish tradition of growing large amounts of the vegetable prior to a wedding. Celery was a main ingredient in many of the wedding dishes, and it was also used to decorate the tables.
As Katie elaborated on their plan to host a potluck and invite David to attend, Tessa could hardly concentrate. She kept watching the clock, hoping there would be time to check in on Mercy before Turner put her down for the night. But her sister and friends were so excited about the prospect of matching Tessa and David on Saturday when he was in town again, they schemed until nine o’clock, and by then, the baby was undoubtedly asleep. After closing the door behind her guests, Tessa headed straight for bed, where she dozed off thinking, I’m only a night’s slumber away from seeing Mercy again. And Turner, too.
* * *
Turner panicked when he heard a knock on the door at seven twenty in the morning. Tessa usually didn’t arrive until seven forty-five. Mercy was burbling happily but loudly in the parlor; if Mark or Patrick were on his doorstep, they’d be bound to hear her. He cracked the door partway.
“Guder mariye,” Tessa said.
She must smile from the moment she wakes up, he thought and beamed at her in return, opening the door wider to let her in. “I thought you were Patrick or Mark,” he explained.
“Neh,” she teased. “They’re taller and they have beards.”
Turner laughed. “What brings you here so early? Is something wrong?” Despite her sunny appearance, he suddenly worried she might have come to tell him she was ill and couldn’t take care of Mercy today—or go out shopping tonight.
“Neh, nothing’s wrong at all. I came early to ask if perhaps I could watch Mercy at the daadi haus instead of up here from now on. That way, while Mercy is sleeping I can keep up with my household projects, as well as wash her windle.”
Turner hesitated. He understood why Tessa would want to spend the day in her own home instead of his, but he was afraid someone—like a suitor—might visit her unexpectedly.
As if aware of his concerns, Tessa continued, “I’m quite certain no one will stop by. Katie’s at school all day, Faith is working in the bakery and Anna’s focus isn’t on socializing right now. My parents wouldn’t come all the way from Shady Valley without telling me in advance. At least, not on a weekday.”
“But what if I need to work later than usual, into the evening hours?”
“Katie, Faith and Anna will be preparing their suppers in the evening, so they’re even less likely to visit.”
Turner realized he was going to have to be more direct with Tessa. “But what if your...your suitor decides to surprise you with a visit some evening?”
“That would be a surprise,” Tessa said and Turner’s mouth drooped, until she continued, “since I don’t have a suitor.”
“Gut!” he exclaimed and then lowered his voice, stammering, “I—I mean, it’s gut that no one will be stopping by. Jah, it’s fine to watch Mercy at your house.”
Tessa clapped vivaciously. “Wunderbaar. I’ll load up the basket with her things and then return for her in a minute.”
“Don’t be lecherich. I’ll carry Mercy’s basket and walk down with you.”
Turner felt so vibrant he could have bounded down the hill in three steps. When Tessa and Mercy were settled into the daadi haus, Turner reminded Tessa, “I’ll stop in at about three o’clock to take you to Highland Springs.”
“We’ll be ready and waiting, won’t we, Mercy?” Tessa asked and Mercy gave a gleeful squawk.
“I’ll take that to mean jah,” Turner said, tickling the underside of the baby’s chin.
He didn’t stop whistling all morning, and during their lunch break, Patrick asked, “What’s your secret, Turner?”
Turner was devouring his bologna sandwich and nearly choked as he tried to swallow. “What secret?”
“You’ve been grinning ear to ear all morning, you did more of the wheel assembly than you’d planned and you’re wolfing down that lunch like you’ve never eaten before. Usually when people have been ill, it takes a while for them to get back to their previous state of health and mind. But you seem to have bounced back even better than you were before.”
Turner was relieved: Patrick didn’t know anything about his secret. He lifted his shoulders and turned his hands palms up. “I suppose I’m blessed,” he said before taking another big bite of bread.
“Well, it’s gut that you’re feeling so much better, since you’ll be on your own in the shop on Saturday.”
Turner had forgotten both of his brothers were traveling to their in-laws’ houses for a long weekend, but the reminder filled him with relief. He had planned to see if he and Tessa could somehow take turns caring for Mercy while the other one was at their family’s home worship service, since it would be an off Sunday this week. Now he wouldn’t have to inconvenience her or ask his family to change their worship time. As for manning the shop on Saturday, that was an impossibility since Tessa would be working and Turner couldn’t bring Mercy with him. But keeping it open on a Saturday wasn’t an absolute requirement and, as long as all the urgent repairs were completed, his brothers wouldn’t be any wiser if the shop stayed closed.
Turner’s industriousness didn’t wane throughout the afternoon; if anything, he became more enlivened as he worked. By the time he told his brothers he was leaving to pick up the parts for Jonas’s buggy in Highland Springs, he had to keep himself from charging out the door. He strode toward his house where he washed his hands and face and put on a clean shirt Barbara Verkler had washed for him, and then he hitched the horse and started down the lane.
Turner’s house and the daadi haus were separated from the workshop by both distance and a thick stand of trees, but to be safe Turner and Tessa agreed she’d carry the baby outside in the basket, shielding Mercy from view with a light blanket. Their plan was for Tessa to sit with Mercy in the back of the buggy, where they wouldn’t be plainly seen if they happened to pass other buggies.
Concerned Mercy would be bothered by the noise of the buggy’s wheels on the road and the motion of the carriage as they traveled, Turner paid special attention to how he handled the horse. As it turned out, the rhythmic motion and sound of the horse’s gait put Mercy to sleep, so Turner and Tessa didn’t converse during the trip to the salvage yard, nor from the salvage yard to the supermarket.
“I won’t be long,” Tessa whispered as she stepped down from the buggy.
“Take your time,” Turner insisted.
But she was quick to return with a cart full of food items for herself and more formula for Mercy. After that, they stopped at a mini-mall so she could purchase bird’s-eye cotton from the fabric store. Turner’s palms went clammy as she climbed into the carriage the final time. Traffic was heavy this time of day and it wouldn’t be easy to change direction once they were on their way. He had to ask her now.
Since Mercy was still asleep, he spoke in a low voice, woodenly reciting the words he’d rehearsed while she was in the store. “If you’re hungry, I’d like to treat you to supper so you don’t have to wait until we get back to eat. I’ve heard the Pasta Palace is a gut restaurant.”
The parking-lot lights were bright enough that Turner could see Tessa biting her lip. Was she trying not to laugh or was she honestly considering his invitation?
“Denki, that’s very kind of you,” she hemmed. “I just, um...”
Turner could have crawled into a hole. It was clear she was trying to drum up an excuse not to accept his offer. He had been foolish to think she might want to spend time socializing with him. She and her friends were probably going to share a good chuckle over this. “If you’d rather not, that’s fine,” he said. “I only figured we could avoid the Englisch rush-hour traffic if we delayed our return to Willow Creek.”
“Neh, it’s not that I don’t want to eat supper with you,
” she protested. “It’s a very thoughtful offer. It’s just that I... I’ve been eating nothing but pasta for the past four days and I’m not sure I could swallow another bite of it.”
Turner’s morale soared. “Of course you can’t,” he said. “I should have asked you what kind of meal you’d prefer. Where would you like to go instead?”
They agreed on an American diner, where they both ordered Philly cheesesteak sandwiches and french fries. While they were waiting for their food to arrive, Mercy stirred in Tessa’s arms. Squinting one eye open, the baby stretched and yawned and then closed her eye again before struggling to open both eyes. When she did, she blinked as if to ask, “Where am I?” Watching her, Tessa and Turner both chuckled. Within minutes, she was as alert as could be, reaching for the utensils and kicking at the table, gurgling or making an ooh sound. She was clearly enjoying the new environment and being the focus of Tessa’s and Turner’s undivided attention.
“How old is your baby?” the waitress asked when she brought their order to the table.
Turner’s heart skipped a beat as he waited for Tessa’s reply, but she nonchalantly answered, “A little over three months,” without clarifying that Mercy wasn’t her child.
“She takes after her dad—she’s got his big blue eyes. Adorable,” the server said, and Turner felt as if he couldn’t breathe. If the woman noticed their family resemblance at a glance, Tessa undoubtedly had seen it, too.
“At least she doesn’t have my nose,” Tessa nonchalantly quipped, but the waitress had already turned away and didn’t hear the remark.
After he said grace, Turner hesitated to raise his head and look at Tessa. His cheeks and forehead were burning, as well as his ears. Tessa had never let on if she thought Mercy was his child, but then again she hadn’t asked any questions about Mercy’s mother, either. Maybe she’d noticed the resemblance and assumed Mercy was his all along. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Turner felt compelled to make sure Tessa knew he wasn’t Mercy’s father. It was embarrassing to even bring up the topic, but he had to set the record straight.
Minding the Amish Baby Page 7