The Timepiece

by Beverly Lewis

  Earnest nodded. “A Christmas gift from her the year we eloped.” He mentioned that he had been thinking recently of selling it, but something had kept him from doing so. “And then when you came, I forgot about it . . . till just now.” He paused and smiled. “Think of it as something of your mother’s . . . from across the years.”

  Tears filled Adeline’s eyes. “This is wonderful,” she whispered. “I’ll always cherish it. Thank you.”

  “You’re holding time in your hands, so to speak,” Earnest said to her gently.

  Wiping her eyes, Adeline smiled at him. “May I ask why you kept it this long?”

  Earnest remembered how this had been the question of the day for weeks on end this summer. “It’s really not important.” He didn’t want to stir up any sadness or misunderstanding in dearest Rhoda, not with the small strides forward their relationship was taking. “Just know that it belongs with you.”

  Adeline looked again at the inscription on the back and shook her head, visibly moved by the gift.

  “I have a soft cloth to wrap it in for safekeeping, if you’d like,” Earnest offered, and Adeline rose and followed him to the shop.

  Sylvia sat through Bible reading and prayers that evening, mindful that this was the last time they would gather with Adeline present. To think that in this very room Dat had shared with all of them, before Adeline’s arrival, about his marriage and divorce from a young college student named Rosalind. Sylvia remembered how devastated and confused she’d felt as Dat humbly asked for their forgiveness.

  Recalling that earth-shattering Sunday afternoon eight weeks ago gave Sylvia pause as she looked at her brothers, then at Dat and Mamma, who sat side by side on the cane-backed sofa. We managed to weather the storm, she thought, her heart thankful.

  For a moment, she tuned out the Scripture verses Dat was reading, instead rehearsing the nine days she’d shared with this very modern half sister on the chair next to her. One thing stuck out in her mind, especially: When they’d run into Ella Mae Zook at BB’s, the Wise Woman had told Adeline to hold her head high because she was a part of this family. At the recollection, Sylvia smiled so broadly that, when Mamma caught her eye, she had to quickly suppress her smile.

  After the short prayer, Dat quietly informed the boys that Adeline would be heading home tomorrow.

  Tommy turned to look at Adeline, his forehead instantly knitted into a deep frown. “Do ya have to?” he asked, eyes pleading.

  Adeline got up and sat down beside him on the floor. She slipped her arm around his shoulders. “Don’t forget me, okay?”

  Tommy shook his head, and a tear trickled down his cheek.

  “Hey, kiddo . . . I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Adeline said softly.

  Tommy wiped his cheek and shook his head. “You didn’t,” he said, giving her a little smile.

  Ernie, Adam, and Calvin said nothing as they observed this. Ernie, however, looked like he might have wanted to speak, if not for the fact that Dat and Mamma got up right then, which signaled the end of their time together.

  As their parents left the front room, Ernie and Adam went over to Adeline and leaned down to shake her hand. “We’ll miss seein’ ya round here,” Ernie said, and Adam nodded his agreement.

  Calvin, meanwhile, took it all in, still perched on the wide windowsill in the corner. Sylvia wasn’t sure if he wanted to be left alone or not, but she walked over to him. “You all right, Calvin?”

  He seemed to force a smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Just checkin’,” she said, noticing Adeline coming their way now.

  “So, Calvin,” Adeline said, “I’ll never forget our little milking adventure. It was super fun.” Her voice cracked, and she held out her hand. “This is the hand that milked a cow, thanks to you,” she said with a laugh. “But seriously, I understand that, here in Hickory Hollow, it’s thought of as a wunnerbaar thing to shake hands with a friend . . . or a brother.”

  Calvin nodded and shook her hand. “It sure is.”

  Adeline turned to Sylvia. “Thanks for all you did—hanging out with me, enduring my questions, and helping with the wall hanging.”

  “I was glad to,” Sylvia said. “And you’ll enjoy completing that project when you’re home.”

  They talked about the remaining steps, and Adeline said she would have to take it slow since her studies would dominate her time.

  “That’s the best way, anyway,” Sylvia said. “Inch by inch, everything’s a cinch.”

  Adeline reached to hug her, and Sylvia couldn’t remember being so moved.

  Very early the next morning, Sylvia carried Adeline’s wall hanging out to the car as Dat took the luggage and Mamma brought an insulated carrier packed with ham and turkey sandwiches, sliced apples, celery and carrot sticks, and chocolate-chip cookies for Adeline’s long trip home.

  Her brothers stood from tallest to shortest, forming a line with Dat once he finished loading Adeline’s bags into her trunk. Sylvia handed Adeline her project, wrapped in plastic to keep it clean, and Adeline placed it in the back seat behind the driver’s side.

  “Thanks again for everything,” Adeline said, smiling at them.

  Will we ever see her again? Sylvia wondered as she tried to keep her chin up.

  Slowly, the red sports car backed out of the driveway and turned onto Hickory Lane, heading north to Cattail Road. Sylvia stood there with the rest of her family, all of them waving good-bye to the young woman who had come such a long way to find them.

  Once they’d seen Adeline off, Sylvia trudged down the cellar steps and began to sort the dirty clothing tossed down the laundry chute . . . white clothes first, colored ones next, and the darks last of all, as Mamma had taught her.

  When the first load of whites was in the wringer washer, she made her way upstairs and went to look in the spare room. Seeing it empty, she got a sudden lump in her throat and went to sit on the quilt that Adeline had so admired. “She would’ve stayed another week if she hadn’t overheard what I told Cousin Alma.”

  “Talkin’ to someone, dear?”

  Sylvia turned and saw Mamma standing in the doorway. “Oh, just to myself,” she said, going to give her a hug. “I’m really gonna miss her.”

  “We all will,” Mamma said, beckoning her toward the kitchen. “What if we made a special breakfast today?”

  Sylvia agreed. “Chocolate-chip pancakes, maybe? The boys will love it.”

  “So will your Dat.” Mamma smiled extra big, and Sylvia guessed she was trying to get everyone’s mind off Adeline’s leaving. It was no small task. For Sylvia right now, the loss of her half sister weighed more on her than the loss of her fiancé.

  When it came to her breakup with Titus, Sylvia still felt surprisingly settled, considering the course their courtship had taken and how it had slowly but surely crumbled apart. I’ll wait for true love, whenever it comes, she thought. The Good Lord willing.

  As mile after mile passed, Adeline relived her time with Earnest Miller and his family. “Wunnerbaar-gut,” she whispered with a smile as she fondly recalled sitting at the big kitchen table with everyone.

  It’ll be lonely in my small apartment, she thought, and the food won’t be as good, either. She had thoroughly enjoyed getting to know each one of her half siblings, as well as her natural father. And Rhoda—what an amazing woman she was.

  But, sighing now, Adeline faulted herself for having brought destruction to Sylvia’s longtime relationship with Titus. No matter what Sylvia had said, Adeline knew that she was the ultimate cause of their breakup.

  CHAPTER

  twenty-three

  The entire next week, Sylvia spent her days picking peaches and some pears, canning them with Mamma and Aendi Hannah at the next farm over. There was scarcely a moment when the big canner wasn’t on the stove, jars gently rattling in boiling water, and many hands making light work. Each woman was calm and relaxed, taking care with every step of the process. And because Sylvia was so busy, there was hardly
any time to miss Adeline. Although at night, she would lie awake and remember what Adeline had said when they were alone in the spare room before saying good-bye. “You have a really special family, Sylvie. And to think, I was so reluctant to stay here.”

  The last Saturday in August, while Earnest and Ernie were at market, Deacon Luke Peachey and his wife, Lois, dropped by to see what new clocks were available. Deacon came right over to Earnest and asked if they might talk. Agreeing, Earnest suggested they walk down the aisle, over toward the kettle corn. “What’s on your mind, Luke?”

  “Your daughter.” The deacon rubbed the tip of his nose. “Has she come to her senses yet?”

  “Well, if you mean about joining church this year, Sylvia isn’t ready to be baptized. Since that’s the case, I’m in favor of giving her more time.”

  Luke nodded slowly.

  “We’ve talked quite seriously about it, but I’m not going to twist her arm,” Earnest continued. “You wouldn’t want a baptismal candidate who isn’t ready, jah?”

  “True, but what changed?” Luke asked. “She seemed so involved in the classes, even eager to move ahead with baptism.”

  “I can’t say exactly, but she realized her heart wasn’t in the right place. Sylvie’s made her choice for now; let’s see what she’s thinking next year.”

  Luke seemed to understand but suggested that Earnest talk further about it with his daughter. “She’s a fine young woman, and it’s too bad ’bout the breakup with Titus Kauffman,” he said. “I do believe it’s God’s will for her to make her vow to God and the church, however.”

  Earnest tried to cover his surprise that Luke knew so much about Sylvia’s former ties to Titus. “All Amish parents want that for their children,” he said, then thanked the deacon for seeking him out. “I know you care about Sylvie, and I appreciate it.”

  They exchanged a few more words before Luke wished him well and got in line to buy some kettle corn.

  Earnest returned to his booth to discover that Ernie had sold a small table clock to Lois Peachey.

  Do all the ministerial brethren know about Titus and Sylvia’s breakup? he wondered.

  The first two days in September, Sylvia helped make large quantities of applesauce, canning with Mamma, Mammi Riehl, and several aunts she always enjoyed being around. There was the typical banter, as well as a little gossip, and she wished Adeline could have been there to observe the process. We have our own little assembly line! she thought with a smile.

  When the mail arrived that Thursday, Sylvia noticed two letters postmarked Atlanta, Georgia. One was addressed to her, and the other to her parents.

  “Mamma! We have mail from Adeline!” Sylvia hurried into the house, waving both letters.

  Mamma lit up like a moonbeam. “Go an’ tell your Dat right quick.”

  Sylvia had just wondered when they might hear from her again. Rushing over to the shop, she called inside, “Dat?” Then, opening the screen door, she found her father clear in the back, scratching his head and apparently studying two varieties of wood. “I have a surprise, Dat,” she said, holding up the letter addressed to him and Mamma.

  For a brief second, he looked baffled; then a smile broke across his face. “From Adeline?”

  She handed him the letter. “Now I’m going outside to read mine.”

  Dat chuckled. “She wrote you, too?”

  “Jah, we must’ve made a strong impression.” With that, Sylvia waved good-bye and made her way back through the shop and the small showroom before dashing out the screen door, letting it slap against the doorframe.

  She spotted the tree where Dat had introduced Adeline to Cousin Alma on the day Ernie was overcome with heat. For an instant, it seemed almost like yesterday, and she was eager to see what Adeline had written.

  Earnest held the envelope, studying the unfamiliar handwriting addressed to him and to Rhoda, realizing that somewhere in the recesses of his mind he had sincerely yearned for this. Adeline’s leaving had been too abrupt. Yet she had taken time to write, and as he opened the envelope and began to read, he recalled how she had been nearly overwhelmed at his gift of the pocket watch.

  Dear Earnest and Rhoda,

  Thank you both once again for making me feel so at home there with the wonderful way you included me in your family! In spite of my being a stranger, your TLC made me feel like I truly belonged.

  And the gold timepiece . . . I can’t tell you what this special gift means to me, Earnest. All during the long drive home, I kept reliving the moment when you presented it to me. Seeing Mom’s words inscribed on the back touched my heart.

  But the main reason for this letter is to tell you that my time with you has stirred up something in me. You see, when she died, my mom left me her diary, which she started the year before her passing, soon after she received her diagnosis. She had given me a hint or two regarding what she was writing about, so I purposely shied away from opening it. Until you gave me the watch, I wasn’t even close to being ready to read it. That was the nudge I needed.

  Through meeting you, I learned certain new things about my mom . . . and about you. I see the timepiece as a symbol of the love that brought me into the world, and it awakened the desire to read Mom’s writings. I have you to thank for this, Earnest.

  As of now, I’m coming up on a quarter of the way through the diary, and I see what my mother wanted me to learn through its pages. She talks a lot about the relationship she found with her “True North,” her “loving Father in heaven” . . . and as I read, more and more questions present themselves. If you’re open to it, I would love to pick your brain about the growing faith in Christ my mom embraced before she died.

  Earnest’s neck muscles were tense when he looked up from the letter. What sort of questions had Rosalind’s diary brought up for Adeline?

  Taking a deep breath, he walked to the window and gazed out, holding the letter. “Rhoda’s the one who should answer this,” he mumbled, feeling as inadequate as when he’d first come to Hickory Hollow. “I haven’t learned anything.”

  Shaking his head and aware of a growing sense of frustration with himself, he could relate to Adeline’s own desire to purposely avoid her mother’s diary, concerned about what she might find there. For the moment, he was unable to bring himself to read the rest of Adeline’s letter.

  My own flesh and blood needs answers, and I’m incapable of helping her. It struck him as fascinating that Rosalind had gotten a dose of religion in the months before her passing. How ironic that she’s the one planting seeds of the Gospel in our daughter’s life!

  Setting Adeline’s letter aside, Earnest returned to deliberating over the choice of wood for his latest floor clock. Half an hour had passed since Sylvia came dashing in to deliver the letter, yet he would not permit himself to ponder it any longer—not now, when he had no answers.

  He looked around the small showroom at his attractive clocks, his workmanship on display all around him. Every day, time slips through my fingers, no matter what I’m doing. The clocks just keep ticking, moving forward. There’s no stopping time.

  He shook away the heavy thoughts and returned to sawing, filling up the minutes of this day with work, work, and more work, as he was accustomed to doing. Creating, building, polishing, selling . . .

  “Time ran out for Mahlon, even though he was a man of strong faith in Christ,” he whispered, startling himself. Earnest could only imagine what his encouraging friend and Amish father figure would think of all the chaos Earnest’s secret had caused. But what had Adeline’s coming meant? Earnest had witnessed firsthand her joy at meeting him and her half siblings, and dear Rhoda, too. But how do I really feel about meeting her?

  He recalled Adeline’s asking if the Bible verses he read to the family ever jumped out at him. He now wished he’d thought to tell her of all the passages in the Bible the ministers had him reading daily during his six-week Bann. Jah, he thought, many of those not only jumped out but were convicting. Yet the minute he was reinstate
d as a church member in good standing, he had abandoned his personal daily reading of Scripture, something he hadn’t even realized until now.

  When time runs out for me, what will my life count for? he wondered, trying to focus on his work. Folded up over there on his workbench, Adeline’s letter plagued him as much as the tinderbox had after its troublesome revelation, and he shuddered to think he had no solid answers for her.

  CHAPTER

  twenty-four

  Sylvia was happy to read about Adeline’s college activities, but there was no mention of her fiancé. Hopefully, she’s not reluctant to talk about Brendon now that Titus and I aren’t together, she thought, sorry that Adeline lived so far away. Georgia might as well be on the other side of the world!

  Getting up and heading for the house, Sylvia walked barefoot through the thick grass, almost compelled to write a prompt reply to assure Adeline that she could share anything she cared to in future letters.

  The next day, Sylvia walked with her mother over to Mamie Zook’s to deliver a dried beef and noodle casserole so that Mamie wouldn’t have to bother cooking that weekend. As before Mahlon’s passing, Mamma continued to be involved in the grieving widow’s life.

  Upon their arrival, Sylvia noticed Mamie’s youngest son, Benuel, and her grandsons Andy and Michael weeding the vegetable garden. Such a devoted family, Sylvia thought, glad for the dear woman’s sake.

  Indoors, Mamie smiled as she accepted the casserole dish and set it down on the counter. She mentioned all the extra help she was getting with the farmwork and around the yard, too. “No more push mowin’ for me,” she said with a little laugh. “My family’s adamant that I’m no longer a spring chicken. Ach, I can see that by lookin’ in the mirror!” Another chuckle. “But if I just sit around the house, I’ll give up the ghost.”