“Might depend on how nosy ya get.”
Eva laughed nervously.
“I’d like someone to interview me,” Frona said, then chortled.
“Oh, so you can say why you’ll never leave the People and are very happy to just stay put here, jah?”
“How’d ya guess?”
They shared a laugh. Feeling relaxed with Frona for a change, since she was in such a pleasant mood, Eva decided now was as good a time as any to tell her about Jed’s visit to the candy shop. “I know you’re interested, so I’ll just say it was Jed Stutzman who gave me Lily’s photograph.”
“He had it?” Frona’s eyebrows rose suddenly. “Why?”
“He found it on the train, of all places.” Eva admitted to not telling Frona this earlier because she wanted to keep mum that Jed had stopped by to see her. “Things were going so well till Lily’s picture dropped out of his wallet. After that, things ended oddly between us. He seemed awfully uncomfortable.”
Frona began to swing her arms. “So things with this Jed fella are kaput?”
“We didn’t get to say much to each other. Bishop Isaac arrived and interrupted our conversation, so it’s hard to know. Even so, I haven’t heard from him since.” He hasn’t bothered to write.
Frona looked thoughtful. “Did ya load Jed up with plenty of sweets before he went?” she asked.
“I sent half a dozen Butterfinger truffles with him.”
Frona clapped her hands. “Then I say there’s a gut chance he’ll come around.”
Frona was doing her best to cheer Eva up, but no matter how addictive those truffles, Eva doubted she’d be seeing handsome Jed Stutzman again.
Chapter Twenty-seven
THE LIVESTOCK RUSTLED ABOUT, chomping on feed at the troughs as Jed helped his father sweep out the barn that evening. He worked quickly with the push broom, leaning into each long stride, thinking of Eva Esch all the while and wondering how she was doing. He recalled Perry asking yesterday if he felt ill, and Uncle Ervin mentioning that Jed hadn’t been himself since returning from Lancaster County. Apparently Uncle Ervin was disappointed, because he’d meant the Pennsylvania trip for Jed’s benefit.
If I could just talk to Eva, Jed thought. He’d started a letter several times but felt too embarrassed to finish. One thing was certain: He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He finished sweeping and headed to the well pump to wash before making his way to the house.
Walking through the Lantzes’ side yard, Eva noticed the white car parked in the drive alongside the main farmhouse where Sam and Josie lived with their children. A small black teddy bear peeked out the rear car window. One of Tilly’s children must have left it there, Eva assumed, wanting to rescue it and carry it over to the Dawdi Haus, where Lester and Sylvia had moved two and a half years ago, when Sam took over the farm. “Should I?” she asked Frona, who immediately shook her head and encouraged Eva to stay focused on why they’d come.
In the kitchen, Lester and Sylvia warmly welcomed Eva and Frona and offered places at the table while Tilly’s son played on the floor with wooden building blocks. In his colorful striped outfit, Baby Mel looked out of place to Eva—little Old Order boys wore black broadfall trousers and blue, green, violet, or white shirts. Even tiny Mel’s golden blond hair had been cut to reveal his ears. She didn’t know why, but it struck Eva as odd, and she realized she’d been hoping Tilly might have adopted something of the Plain way of dressing her children. Even Jenya and Tavani, Tilly’s look-alike twin girls, seemed just like any other English children, except perhaps for their braided blond hair. The twins were taller than Eva had expected, and when Tilly’s husband, Kris, came over to introduce himself, Eva saw where the girls must have gotten their genes for height. Kris was not only tall but also congenial, and Eva understood why Tilly had fallen for him.
They all sat down to enjoy some butterscotch pie, and Eva was impressed with the children’s polite behavior at the table. They were as mild mannered as any Amish children she’d helped care for, including her young Esch nieces and nephews.
Tilly seemed eager to talk about the girls’ interest in hand sewing, kindly including Frona and Eva in the conversation. “Jenya’s making a quilted wall hanging right now—I have a snapshot of that and Tavani’s embroidered pillowcases, too.” Tilly went to get her purse and brought back two photos, which were passed around amidst quite a lot of oohing and appreciative remarks. “I hope they’ll be fine seamstresses one day,” Tilly added.
Both twins blushed and glanced shyly at each other, and Sylvia’s sweet face shone.
She’s gotten her Tilly back, Eva thought. But what is it like to see her grandchildren only a few times a year? This was so foreign to the way of the People, whose very lives revolved around work frolics, neighborhood gatherings, and worshiping together at house church every other Sunday.
When all but a few crumbs of the delicious dessert had been devoured, Frona offered to help Sylvia with the dishes, and as if on cue, Tilly asked Kris if he’d get the stroller out, glancing at Eva. “Would ya like to walk with me?” she asked quietly while the twins headed into the front room with their Dawdi Lester.
“Sure,” Eva said, feeling self-conscious and wondering what Sylvia had revealed to Tilly. I can’t be shy, Eva thought. This might be my only chance to talk to an Amishwoman turned Englischer.
Frona glanced her way with a smile, and Eva hoped it was all right to leave her and Sylvia with all the dishes. Won’t Jenya and Tavani help dry?
Outdoors, Tilly put little Mel into the stroller while Kris held it steady. He kissed her cheek before heading into the house.
“It’s nice of you to make time for me,” Eva said right away. “I wondered if ya might be tired after traveling.”
“Actually, this is the best way for me to unwind.” Tilly raised her face to the sky briefly as they headed down the lane, past the flower beds surrounding the birdbath. “Walking has always been my favorite way to relax.” Tilly looked about them. “Especially back here at home . . . on a blue-sky day.”
“Do ya miss Eden Valley?” Eva asked hesitantly.
“All the time.”
Eva was a little surprised but glad Tilly seemed to feel comfortable telling her so.
“My mother says your younger sister has left the family,” Tilly said softly.
“Seems like years already, but it’s only been a couple weeks.”
“This has to be hard for all of you.”
Eva said it was. “Not to be snoopy, but was it during your Rumschpringe that you began to wonder ’bout the modern world? Was that when you first became curious?”
“There were other issues, personal ones . . . unresolved circumstances that compelled me to leave.” Tilly stopped walking to check on her son, leaning down to talk gently to him in the stroller. “To be blunt, Eva, I never felt like I fit in with my family.” She paused, then straightened. “Particularly with my father.”
Eva chose not to reveal that it had been the exact opposite for her; she’d been exceptionally close to both her parents.
“I became bitter over time, and that led to my departure,” Tilly added. “Thankfully, all of that has been talked through now.”
Eva realized Tilly’s reasons for leaving had to be much different than her sister’s. “What are the chances of Lily changin’ her mind and coming home, do ya think?”
Tilly pushed her shoulder-length hair over her shoulder. “I don’t want to discourage you, but once I flipped on a light switch and experienced the other conveniences—and freedoms—of life on the outside, there was no turning back.” She paused before continuing. “I eagerly embraced all of that. Even the different style of worship appealed to me. I discovered so many new opportunities . . . things I wouldn’t have experienced here in Eden Valley.”
Eva felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “Quite a few here are prayin’ for our Lily, though,” she said softly.
Tilly nodded.
“So if the Lord God wants
Lily back with the People, He’ll lead her home, jah?”
Tilly agreed. “He can change her mind, of course. God is all powerful in every way, and we can trust Him with our hearts.”
They talked more about Tilly’s church, and Eva asked if she missed anything about the Amish way of worship. Tilly was surprisingly forthright, saying later that what she missed most was seeing her Amish family, including her aunt Naomi Mast. “And Uncle Abner, isn’t he the most fun ever? And wise as King Solomon, too.”
Eva felt a semblance of relief as the conversation changed direction. And the farther they walked, the more she enjoyed being with Tilly.
“Do you know if your sister has an English boyfriend?” Tilly asked.
“Supposedly so, but what little I know comes from her friend Fannie. But how long will the fella be interested?”
“Well, in my own experience, it’s been a challenge to mesh my husband’s and my backgrounds. I think it’s hard enough when a couple has different church affiliations, let alone the enormous clash between the Plain and fancy ways of life. There are some pretty significant cultural differences to work through.”
“I can only imagine,” Eva said. “I have a few ideas of what my sister is up against.”
They walked all the way down to Stoney Hill Road, then turned back onto Eden Road. The air was a bit chilly as they headed north, and Tilly stopped again to check on little Mel, saying he was “all tuckered out.”
A buggy rumbled toward them from the opposite direction, and the two young Amish fellows inside gawked as they went by, focusing especially on Tilly. Their stares weren’t as pronounced as those of Englischers might have been had an Amishwoman been in the reverse setting. Eva couldn’t help but wonder how Lily was managing out there in the world. Did she stick out like a sore thumb?
“I can’t tell ya how gut it is to talk so openly,” Eva said as the Lantz farm loomed into view.
“Hopefully it gives you a glimpse from the other side of the fence.” Tilly looked at her and smiled. “Honestly, it’s nearly impossible to remove the Plain life from a person’s awareness. There were times I wept over my decision to leave, feeling constantly pulled back to my upbringing by strong cords. And it wasn’t just missing the familiar life I’d abandoned. The Old Ways were ingrained in me, everything I’d come to know and understand. I was an odd puzzle piece in a world where my piece simply did not fit.”
Yet she didn’t feel like she fit in at home either, poor thing.
“For a while I leaned one way and then the other, even though I knew I’d closed the door on being Amish ever again when I married Kris.” Tilly stopped pushing the stroller and turned toward Eva. “I know a number of former Amish who describe their leaving the same way. The Plain life doesn’t just get under the skin; it runs deep into the soul. Being Amish isn’t just what you do; it’s who you are.” Tilly wiped her eyes. “Lily will feel she’s being ripped down the middle of her heart, wanting to live in both worlds. It could be excruciating for her.”
If this proved true for Lily, Eva didn’t see how her sister could stay fancy . . . unless she married her Englischer beau before she took time to think all of this through.
“Are you happy now?” Eva had to know.
“Very.” Tilly said it convincingly enough. “Always remember: Embracing the Plain life is a choice.”
Tilly’s words played over in Eva’s mind as they headed into the house, and later when Lester Lantz gave Eva and Frona a ride home after dark, following more fellowship and food. And Eva realized how unlikely it would be for Lily to return home, apart from divine help.
Chapter Twenty-eight
AS THE DAYS PROGRESSED and Lily was still missing, Eva sensed Frona was walking on eggshells, wondering when or if Menno or the bishop might come rushing over to say Lily had been found. But at the end of each day, when still no word came, both sisters prayed all the more fervently. Eva promised herself—and God—that she would never give up on Lily.
Candy sales were climbing ever higher, and Eva feared it was somehow tied to Lily’s disappearance. Her loyal customers were anything but snoopy, yet nearly all offered their concern.
Ida Mae was one of them. “Lily must be markin’ the days off on her calendar, figuring out a way to get home,” she said with a heartwarming smile.
Others who were waiting in line overheard and glanced at each other, some nodding. One longtime English customer said she’d requested prayer for Lily at her ladies’ Bible study group, and another mentioned asking for prayer for Lily at her monthly book club.
Naomi Mast was a frequent visitor, as well, although she was more focused on Frona and Eva, helping out with whatever they agreed to let her do in the house, given she had her own kitchen—and Abner—to look after.
“Word’s getting out beyond Eden Valley’s borders,” Eva told Frona the evening of the first Saturday in June. “It’s remarkable, the folks who care ’bout Lily.”
“Can’t believe we haven’t heard a peep from my appeals to Ohio relatives,” Frona said, putting a small basket with golden biscuits, nice and flaky, on the table. There was also raw honey straight from the bee-keeping neighbors up the road.
Eva tried to take what Frona said in stride. How was it possible that none of their Ohio cousins—and anyone they’d surely talked with by now—had heard anything about Lily?
Outdoors, the farmhands were heading for home. If I married Alfred, Eva thought, I’d have a full table of workers to feed twice or more a day, like Mamma always did. After their father died, Menno had stepped in and brought in new help. Now with Mamma gone, too, Frona only occasionally invited all of the menfolk to stay around for the noon meal—any more would have put a strain on the monthly budget. Several times a month, Bena cooked for the whole crew, since she and Menno lived only a short distance away.
Eva considered Alfred again and wondered what he’d thought of her letter. Not hearing back right away gave her some breathing room—time to ponder being courted by a man who was more like a friend than a possible mate. If it came to it, could she marry him and be content?
“Supper’s ready,” Frona said, and they sat down to a yellow tureen of corn chowder that had simmered all day.
Once Frona concluded the time of silent blessing, Eva chose a biscuit and waited for her sister to reach for the long ladle and dish up her own serving. The sight of Mamma’s tureen brought back happy memories of days with many sets of feet under this big table, and dear Mamma dishing up Dat’s bowl.
“Have ya heard anything from Jed Stutzman?” Frona said, reaching for the honey.
“I don’t expect to.”
“You had such a nice time while he was here. I’m really sorry for ya, sister.”
Eva looked up, surprised at this from Frona, who rarely seemed so sympathetic. “Awful nice of you. Denki.”
Frona’s cheeks reddened. “We need each other,” she said softly. For a moment, Eva thought there might be a tear in her eye. “I did something today . . . something I never thought I’d do.”
“Oh?”
“This morning I overheard Emmanuel talkin’ with Rufus, and I spoke up,” Frona admitted. “Evidently Menno had plans to knock down the playhouse out yonder, where you and Lily used to take your dollies and books.”
Eva was horrified. “Why would he do that?”
“For firewood, Emmanuel said. Menno thinks the place has seen better days.”
“Lily once told me she felt closest to God in that sweet little place. She could pray better there than kneeling at her bedside.”
Frona grimaced. “You wanna know what I told our brothers? I interrupted and said they were not tearin’ it down unless both you and Lily gave the say-so.”
“You said that?”
“I’ve had it up to here.” Frona tapped her forehead. “I’m beginning to feel like I might burst, all this fussin’ over Lily, and no one able to find her.”
“Gut for you, makin’ a stand.”
“I even went to se
e if Lily might have decided to hole up out there.”
Eva hadn’t thought of that.
“I didn’t find her, of course, but I did see one of your shared books.” Frona motioned to the sitting room. “I put it in there—a child’s poetry book. Robert Louis Stevenson, remember?”
“Aw . . . Lily loved that book. I didn’t know it was missin’.”
“Maybe Bena’s youngsters will enjoy it.”
When they move in here and everything changes, Eva thought, looking pensively at Frona.
Naomi was out tending her flower beds and had just stood up to rest her aching back, thankful for the late-day sunshine. The first cutting of hay was at hand, and the air felt warmer. A breeze came up, cooling her brow, and with it the hush of the leaves high in the old trees that made up the northern windbreak.
She remembered being a little girl and pretending she could fly by riding on the crest of the wind, though she’d never told anyone. Not even her closest sister. Naomi wondered if Eva and Lily had ever shared those kinds of childish secrets. If so, wouldn’t Lily feel like a lost soul wherever she’d taken herself off to?
The sun was sinking quickly now, and as Naomi made her way toward the house, stopping at the potting shed to put her hoe and trowel away, she noticed the bishop’s horse and carriage coming up the road. Menno was riding inside with the man of God.
Oh, her heart leapt up, and she hoped this might be the good news they were all waiting for. Even though Lily had been gone for less than a month, it seemed like a long time coming.
Bishop Isaac stared at Menno as he sat across from him with Eva and her sister. “You’d think something would come of all the searching.”
Eva sighed. Should she speak up . . . say what she was thinking?
Menno removed his straw hat and put it on the bench. “From what I was told, Cousin Jeptha King solicited help from a half-dozen other men and some women, too. They’ve gone to a good many small towns—rural, mostly—and talked to nearly all the local merchants, restaurant managers, and the like in each location, but not a soul has seen Lily or even heard of her.”
The Photograph Page 17