The Timepiece

by Beverly Lewis

  “We all care ’bout ya, Mamie,” said Mamma. “And if you ever need anything, just ring your dinner bell four times, and we’ll come runnin’.”

  “Yous are the best neighbors.” Mamie wiped her face with a hankie she pulled from beneath her sleeve. “You know I’m stayin’ put here, don’t ya? Just a simple move next door to the Dawdi Haus. Andy’s offered to supervise the move toward the end of next month, once the menfolk help fill silo.”

  Feeling a little awkward at the gleam in Mamie’s pretty eyes when she mentioned Andy, Sylvia wondered if word had already spread that she and Titus were no longer together. Must have, she thought.

  They stayed for a while to visit over cold lemonade and some red grapes and pineapple chunks Mamie insisted on serving. There were orange raisin bars, too. And it was noteworthy to Sylvia how many more times Andy’s name crept into the conversation.

  Later, on the way down the porch steps as she and Mamma were leaving, Andy himself glanced up from his weeding to wave to Sylvia, offering a charming smile.

  She waved back and wondered why he felt at liberty to be so friendly. Doesn’t he know about my flawed family?

  That evening after supper, while Earnest sat outdoors with Rhoda, they discussed Adeline’s letter. “How would you like to respond?” he asked as they relaxed on the back porch.

  Rhoda looked surprised. “Well, dear, as I recall, her questions are addressed to you.”

  He waved that off. “Oh, but you’re much better at letter writing.” He mentioned all the practice she had, writing circle letters to cousins and to four other Amishwomen also named Rhoda who happened to share the same autumn birthday.

  Rhoda frowned a little, as though she sensed he was looking for an excuse. “Here’s an idea . . . what if I simply write down what you’d like to tell her?”

  The old feelings of inadequacy badgered him and, not knowing how to respond, he looked out at the pasture he so loved. The truth was, he had a lot of growing to do spiritually if he was ever going to help Adeline.

  Rhoda reached for his hand, and he held on, gazing at her with all the love in his heart.

  “You know how lacking I am, don’t you, dear?”

  She paused a moment, then said, “Are ya seein’ yourself in Adeline, maybe? In her searching?”

  “The fact is, I don’t have a deep faith like yours.” After all they’d endured together, it was easy now to admit this. “Though I’ve tried, I can’t hide my shortcomings or fix them.”

  “That’s not something you can do on your own, Earnest—the Lord is here for you, and I am, too,” she said seriously. “But Adeline’s reachin’ out to you, Earnest, and I believe you can make a difference in her life.”

  He nodded. “If I can just get over the hurdles.”

  “It would be worth the effort for health and for peace of mind. And most of all, for the soul,” she said, tears welling up.

  He looked at her, his precious wife who’d somehow persisted through the immense pain he alone had caused her. He squeezed her hand and felt incredibly blessed.

  Later, after family prayers, Earnest and Rhoda sat together in their room, where Rhoda began to pen his letter to Adeline, sharing about his own difficult journey. “I’ll be honest, Adeline,” he dictated, “I put on a ‘flawless’ exterior for twenty long years, living as an Amishman in name only. I didn’t take God’s purpose for my life to completion, truly embracing the faith that went along with that. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”

  Rhoda nodded. “That’s a gut start, love,” she encouraged.

  “It’s strange, but I seem to have a natural connection with Adeline,” he admitted. “Not that I don’t have it with my other children. It was just a surprise to discover I had it with Adeline, too.”

  Rhoda listened, pen poised over the stationery.

  “So, back to the letter,” he said, “let’s get to the point, in case this is the only one we write.”

  “Oh, I think there will be more letters from her.”

  “I hope so.”

  Rhoda nodded. “I saw how she began to warm up to us, even though it was hard for her the first few days.”

  They discussed the visit, reliving the way things started and ended, and Rhoda recommended that Earnest suggest to Adeline that she read the Gospel of John. “What do ya think?”

  “Well then, I should probably read it, too.”

  She smiled. “And if you do, you’ll be able to write the next letter to her yourself, maybe?”

  Earnest saw the wisdom in Rhoda’s remark. “Will you be reading it, as well? The three of us together?”

  “Jah,” she said, reaching for her Bible. “Why not start now?”

  Earnest leaned back in his comfortable chair and listened closely as Rhoda began, her soft voice sweet to his ears. “‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.’”

  A week after Adeline had mailed her letters to the Millers, she received two back—one from Earnest, and another from Sylvia. Settling in for the evening, she sipped her can of lemon sparkling water, thankful for the very honest letter Rhoda had penned for Earnest. Whatever works for him, she thought, giving him that latitude. The fact that he and Sylvia had replied at all, and so quickly, did her heart good.

  Adeline walked over to the sliding door and stood on the small balcony attached to her apartment, where she looked out on a sea of brick and mortar, apartment complexes in every direction. I was spoiled by the views of Amish farmland, she thought.

  Thinking of Sylvia’s letter, she was a little perplexed by it, because Sylvia seemed too cheerful and practically anesthetized, as if the reality of her breakup with Titus still hadn’t sunk in. Kind of like I was after Mom died, Adeline thought. It took weeks. . . .

  Standing there at the railing after a hectic day of classes and before Brendon was to arrive with takeout—spicy Korean pork tacos—Adeline considered writing back to Sylvia. It was hard to know what to say when she still felt responsible for the way things had gone downhill. But surely Sylvie and Titus would realize soon how much they missed each other. If they’re in love, they will, she thought, unable to imagine splitting up with Brendon.

  She decided to take Earnest up on his suggestion to read through the Gospel of John—if she could locate her mom’s Bible.

  CHAPTER

  twenty-five

  September nineteenth, one day before baptism Sunday, Sylvia took stock of herself. One thing was sure: She was thankful Titus hadn’t tried to contact her.

  Time for us both to move on, she thought as she and Mamma prepared spaghetti and meatballs for the noon meal. Sylvia couldn’t help recalling how disappointed Dat and the deacon had been when she dropped out of baptismal instruction. Yet despite the hastiness of that decision, she had not second-guessed it, though she did wonder how she would feel when she saw the other candidates bow their knees and promise to follow God and the church all the days of their lives.

  “What are you thinkin’ about, Sylvie?”

  She looked across the counter at her mother. “Stuff that makes me frown, apparently.”

  Mamma smiled. “I thought so.”

  Sylvia told her more, and Mamma said, “Well, it’s not like you can’t be baptized next year, if you’re ready by then.”

  “True,” Sylvia said softly.

  “You’re still hurting from the breakup, jah?”

  She shook her head. “Not so much that as the reasons for it, I guess.”

  Mamma went to stir the big pot of spaghetti noodles. “I’m anxious for the day when you’re truly happy again.”

  “It’s not as though I’m crying my eyes out. The worst of it happened weeks ago now.” She wondered if she ought to say what she was thinking about doing next.

  Mamma gave an understanding nod. “With God’s help, we each handle sadness in our own way.”

  Sylvia considered that. “You might be surprised, but I’m actually thinking of goin’ to Singing tomorrow
night. I’m worried ’bout how Titus might take it, though.”

  “Well, you’re not obligated to stay home,” Mamma said. “Do ya feel like you are?”

  Sylvia shook her head. “I just don’t want to run into him.”

  “Maybe plan to sit with Cousins Alma and Jessie . . . and take the family carriage. That way, ya won’t send a message that you’re already lookin’ for a new beau.”

  “Gut idea, Mamma.”

  “Although if ya ask me, I think you could have a new beau . . . once you’re ready.”

  Sylvia frowned. “Someone you have in mind?”

  Mamma clucked like a mother hen. “You’d have to be blind not to see what I’m seein’.”

  “Andy Zook?”

  Nodding, Mamma added, “Trust me, he’s fond of you, even though it’s been from afar.”

  “He’s always been a cheerful fella, but he’s like that with everyone.”

  “Think what ya want.” Mamma was grinning now.

  Sylvia recalled that she had wondered why Andy seemed not to view her father and family as somehow tarnished.

  “You’ll find out if ya go to Singing.”

  “Ach, Mamma.”

  “Seriously.”

  Sylvia pondered that while she mixed the lean ground beef for the meatballs with eggs, onions, a little garlic, and bread crumbs, mixing everything thoroughly with both hands. I just want someone to love and accept me for who I am, she thought. A rather tall order.

  At a sushi restaurant, Adeline looked across their table, enjoying her dinner date with Brendon, handsome as always in khakis and a pale blue golf shirt. His light brown eyes and stunning blond hair were an unlikely combination that had always intrigued her. She’d never known anyone else so fair-haired to have brown eyes.

  They had been tossing around ideas for their destination wedding, and Sylvia mentioned Mackinac Island. “Sylvia liked the idea of our riding down Main Street in a horse-drawn carriage,” she told him, laughing. “Naturally, considering her Amish background.”

  Brendon nodded and smiled. “Is that what you want, Addy?”

  “Well, it’s not just my wedding.” Adeline smiled at him. “Your input counts, too.”

  Brendon tilted his head. “I appreciate that.”

  “So, what do you think?” She reached for the spicy dipping sauce.

  “Let’s do a spreadsheet on the costs involved—the ferry ride over and back will add up fast for everyone. And have you priced the hotel accommodations on the island? Spendy would be an understatement, I’m certain. But we can check.”

  Leave it to my number cruncher, she thought.

  “I doubt you want to use your entire inheritance on our wedding, do you?”

  Brendon had a point, and she appreciated his insight. “No. It’s a good thing it’s all tied up in a trust or, well, you know me. . . .”

  “My adorable spendthrift.” He grinned as he picked up his napkin, eyes focused on her.

  “So are we back to the drawing board on the location?” she asked.

  They discussed a gamut of options, but neither of them wanted anything too eccentric or showy. Many of their engaged friends were going for more creative, nontraditional venues, but they wouldn’t let that influence them.

  “Bottom line, it’s our day,” Brendon said. “And it will be memorable because you’ll be the one smiling at me, promising to spend the rest of your life with the wonderful guy who loves you.”

  She blew a kiss to him.

  He reached across the table, took her hand, and gave her a playful wink. “Seriously, how did I get so lucky?”

  Adeline smiled back at him. “Hmm . . . you must have done something good—you know, to deserve me.”

  He chuckled at her teasing. “That’s some really bad theology.”

  “Theology?”

  He shrugged it off. “You know—the notion that good things come to people who do good is ridiculous. It’s bad theology.”

  He has a point, she thought. And where is Mom’s True North in that idea?

  Later, after Brendon drove them back to her apartment, they sat out on the balcony, the glimmer of hundreds of lit windows in the night sky around them. With all the lights of the city, it was impossible to see the stars. And oh, how Adeline missed seeing them!

  Adeline remembered what Earnest had said about taking time to appreciate the world around her, and she leaned back on the chaise to try to do just that. As she relaxed, she thought of Sylvia, as good as gold, and yet for some reason, Titus hadn’t seemed to value her. Sylvia had been kind and absolutely lovely, but life had thrown her a curve.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Addy.” Brendon reached for her hand.

  “Just thinking about my Amish family.”

  “I wish I could picture them,” he said. “Are there any photos?”

  She laughed. “They don’t do photos.”

  He leaned back in his chair, obviously enjoying their banter. “Do you miss them?”

  “Sometimes.” She nodded and, after a few more minutes, she invited him inside to see the pocket watch. Initially upon returning home, she had thought of keeping it to herself as a private keepsake, actually more from her mother than from Earnest. But tonight seemed like a good time to share it with Brendon.

  She went to her room and brought it out to the living room, where she sat next to him on the sectional. Brendon leaned forward to look. “My mom gave this to Earnest their first Christmas together,” she said, placing the timepiece in his hand.

  Studying it closely, Brendon whistled. “Meticulously crafted.”

  She reached to turn it over in his hand. “Check out the inscription.”

  Brendon mouthed the words silently, then, looking at her, he asked, “How does this make you feel?”

  She shook her head. “I’m still coming to terms with everything. But I’m glad to have it.”

  He slipped his arm around her. “It’s beautiful, Addy. Thanks for showing me.”

  “I haven’t decided where to put it,” she said as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I doubt I’ll carry it.”

  They laughed a little, then Brendon handed back the pocket watch.

  “I wanted you to see it first,” she said as he lifted her chin to kiss her.

  The day set aside for church baptism dawned with a brilliant sunrise as shafts of light shot high into the sky. Since all of her brothers had to get cleaned up last night, Sylvia hurried downstairs to shower and wash her long hair, having gone to bed earlier than usual.

  The minute she was dressed for church, she helped Mamma with breakfast, putting a work apron on over her newest blue dress. Ernie and Adam came in with Dat from doing barn chores, and Calvin and Tommy ran downstairs dressed for Preaching service in all but their black vests and coats.

  There was an air of expectancy around the table as Dat bowed his head to ask the blessing, and while Sylvia prayed the silent rote prayer, she added one for all of the baptism candidates on this most holy day.

  During the buggy ride to Bishop Beiler’s farmhouse for the Preaching service, Sylvia thought of Adeline and wondered what she was doing today and how soon she might write back.

  During the second sermon of the service, given by Preacher Amos Kauffman, Sylvia had trouble focusing even though she had always found his sermons to be practical and sincere. Today, however, it was hard to receive the words Titus’s father spoke. Sitting on the long bench between Cousins Alma and Jessie, Sylvia did not hate him or his family, but the way they had seemingly set themselves above her own family made her very uncomfortable.

  When it came time for the baptism candidates to rise from the front row and answer the four questions asked by the bishop, she wondered how she would have felt, going ahead with joining church. She knew it was better to be honest with herself and with God. And with everyone else, too. I want to get back to where I used to be with the Lord, she thought.

  Sylvia stood with the rest of the congregation as Bishop John Beiler read from the
prayer book, Die Ernsthafte Christenpflict, about forsaking the world, the flesh, and the devil, then uttered his desire for each candidate to live only for Jesus Christ. “May God’s mighty power grant you the ability to reject temptation and overcome sin,” he said.

  The People sat down again while the deacon brought the baptismal water over in a pail. When it was Titus’s turn to be baptized, he knelt, and the bishop placed his cupped hands, filled with water, over Titus’s head, slowly releasing them until water dripped down Titus’s face and onto his black frock coat. Then the bishop offered his hand, and Titus stood to receive the expected handshake and a holy kiss of peace. “No longer will you be considered guests and strangers, but laborers and members in this consecrated and holy fellowship,” the bishop told him and the other candidates.

  With a little sigh, Sylvia realized she was actually glad for Titus on this milestone day. He will be one to wholly follow the Ordnung, she thought.

  ———

  When the service was over, the menfolk turned the benches into tables, raising them up for the shared meal. And when it was time for the youth to be seated, Sylvia sat with Alma and Jessie, who seemed interested in talking about everything but the upcoming wedding season. So dear of them.

  “Are yous goin’ to the Singing tonight?” she asked.

  “Jah,” Alma said, glancing at Jessie, who nodded.

  “I’m thinkin’ of going, too.”

  Both girls brightened. “We’ll sit together, then,” Alma said, patting Sylvia’s shoulder. “This is the best news!”

  Sylvia had to smile at their response, glad to be so welcome.

  “I’ll stay close by,” Alma whispered later. “And you can get a ride home with Danny and me. Unless someone asks ya to ride with him. . . .”

  “Oh, I’ll come on my own, in Dat’s family carriage,” she was quick to say as they made their way outside to the shelter of the shade trees in the side yard.

  Alma stood with Sylvia outdoors, watching as Titus walked near the barnyard with his cousin, who had also joined church that morning. Sylvia’s heart no longer fluttered at the sight of him. I must not have loved him very much, she thought, wishing she had acknowledged early on how troubled their relationship had been. Nearly from the start.