by Amy Clipston
Desperation for answers made his blood pump so fast, he thought a vein might burst. Whatever had happened to Sarah was eating her up from the inside out. And pushing her now wasn’t in either of their best interests. They loved each other. But would it be enough to put the past behind them?
Then Miriam stepped out onto the porch and waved. And Abram decided love would have to be enough. Love, and a heavy dose of patience until Sarah was ready to talk to him. For today, he’d take her gift of love and visit from his daughter as a wonderful first step toward putting the past behind him. He hoped she would be able to do the same.
CHAPTER 8
Miriam skipped to the bathroom, and once she was out of earshot, Barbara moved to the far end of the couch to be closer to John’s recliner. “I wonder how long Sarah will be job hunting. She’s been gone two or three hours.” Barbara felt guilty but hoped it would be most of the day so she and John could have Miriam all to themselves. Maybe if Miriam grew close to them, Sarah wouldn’t want to snatch her away.
“I won’t be able to bear it if Sarah leaves here with Miriam and doesn’t allow us to see her.” She folded her hands in her lap as she shook her head.
John put down the Die Botschaft he was reading and looked at her over the rims of his reading glasses. Her husband sighed. John enjoyed reading the weekly correspondence from Amish folks around the nation. She wasn’t sure if the sigh was due to the interruption of his reading or the context of what she’d just said. “Barbara, embrace the joy. I don’t think that will happen.”
“But Sarah . . .” She blinked a few times, fending off tears. “Sarah is so angry with me. Beyond that, I feel like she doesn’t even like me.”
“And you haven’t liked her very much.” He grinned. “Sometimes you and I don’t like each other. But we always love each other. Same with you and Sarah. Give it time.”
Miriam walked back into the room but skipped past Barbara when the front door opened and Sarah came in. Miriam ran to her mother’s outstretched arms, and Sarah smothered her with kisses, telling her how much she loved and missed her. Just like I used to do with Sarah.
“Mammi and Daadi took me in the buggy to a farm down the road, and do you know how many kids that family had?” Miriam’s eyes were as round as golf balls.
Sarah gasped. “I don’t know. How many?”
“Fourteen!” Miriam leaned closer to her mother. “I didn’t know mommies could have that many babies. I thought only cats could.”
John chuckled, and Barbara smiled as Sarah answered her daughter. “I’m not sure cats can have that many babies. Maybe, I guess.”
“They had big kids that looked like grown-ups, and they had babies too. And I’ve decided I want thirteen brothers and sisters too.”
“Oh my,” Sarah said, glancing briefly at Barbara, who had wanted as many children as possible. The Lord had blessed her with only one. If Sarah remained in the Englisch world, she would never give Barbara that many grandchildren. “That’s a lot of kids.”
Miriam turned to Barbara. “Why doesn’t my mommy have a lot of brothers and sisters?”
“I think it is time to collect eggs. What do you think, Miriam?” John to the rescue. He knew it was a hard subject for her.
“I can take her, Daed,” Sarah said. “It’s the woman’s job to collect eggs, and I want to help out while I’m here.”
Barbara wasn’t sure if that was a jab at her or not. Ever since she’d been attacked by one of their roosters, John insisted on collecting the eggs. Even after they ate that unruly bird for supper. Barbara had scars on the back of her calf still. She tried to talk her husband out of doing that particular chore since it was woman’s work, but Sarah didn’t know any of that because it happened two years ago. She fought the bitterness building again.
“Nee, you stay and visit with your mother. This is a job for me and Miriam.”
Perhaps John’s timing was intentional, to force a conversation between Barbara and her daughter, but she suspected he also wanted some bonding time with Miriam. Barbara had certainly hogged their granddaughter today. John also knew that sometimes Barbara and Sarah just needed to battle it out by themselves before they could get past whatever problem they were facing. Barbara wasn’t sure they’d be able to do that this time, but she was going to try to communicate with Sarah, and maybe their time apart would spare them a screaming match. Even if she and Sarah were beyond hope, she wanted a relationship with Miriam.
“Did you have any luck job hunting?” Barbara sat on the couch next to Sarah. It felt strange and awkward, and her stomach churned.
“Ya, I did.”
It was also odd seeing Sarah wearing jeans, with makeup on and her hair down, and speaking in her native dialect, a language she hadn’t used in six years. But Barbara loved hearing her use it, and she recalled her husband’s words. Embrace the joy. “That’s gut. What kind of work did you apply for?”
“Two administrative positions. One at the hospital in Lancaster and another one at the Stoltzfus Clinic in Paradise. That one would be much more convenient while I’m living here.”
“Your daed said you went to see Abram yesterday.” Barbara reminded herself not to push too hard.
“Ya, I did. I saw his parents too.” Sarah scrunched up her nose, frowning like she’d always done when she was put out about something. “They were very happy to see me, and Elizabeth welcomed me with open arms.”
Barbara’s chest tightened. She was determined not to let Sarah pick a fight with her. “I’m glad they got to meet their granddaughter.”
Sarah slowly put her feet on the coffee table, which they’d never allowed. But Barbara didn’t say a word. Sarah folded her arms across her chest and stared at her shoes. “I never said Miriam was Abram’s daughter.”
Barbara’s jaw dropped, and it was a few seconds before she could speak. “But—you left almost six years ago, and Miriam is five, and . . .” Was Sarah saying this because she didn’t want anyone to assume she wanted to get back together with Abram?
“The math works. I know.” Sarah turned and glared at her mother. “If you had opened my letters, you would know the truth.”
Barbara hung her head, shaking it. “At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought you’d come back, realize you’d made a terrible mistake.”
Sarah dropped her hands to her lap, took her feet off the table, and looked away. “Do you think I didn’t want to come back? I was in trouble! But you shunned me even though I hadn’t been baptized.”
Barbara’s breath caught in her throat. “If you were in trouble, why didn’t you come to me before you left?”
Sarah sighed. “Because I knew what you would say. And I was scared to talk to you, and even more afraid to talk to Abram. Running away felt like the only thing to do.” She rubbed her throbbing temples for a few seconds. “We didn’t exactly get along very well back then, and trust me, my news would have taken your shame to a whole new level.”
The front door opened and John stuck his head inside. “Okay for me to take mei maedel on a buggy ride?”
“Please, Mommy.” Miriam’s blue eyes pleaded with her mother.
“Sure, sweetie. That’s fine.”
After they left, Barbara searched her mind for a way to somehow get things right between her and Sarah. Whatever bitterness she had carried over the years, it seemed that her daughter was also toting a heavy load of it. Before she could come up with anything, Sarah got off the couch and headed upstairs. Barbara wanted to call after her, not caring if she was being pushy. But then she heard footsteps coming back down the stairs. Sarah came into the living room carrying something. She tossed some envelopes on the table.
“It’s been four years since I mailed the first letter, but maybe now you’ll have more interest in reading them.” She raised a shoulder, smirking, before she said, “Or maybe you still don’t care.”
Barbara stood up. “It was never that I didn’t care. Your daed and I made the decision together, to see
if our lack of communication would bring you back to us.”
“You talked Daed into it. I’m sure of that.” Sarah clenched her fists at her sides, directing all her anger at Barbara like a knife to her gut. Because she was right. Barbara had talked John into returning the letters unopened, despite his begging her to reconsider, saying they should at least read them, even if they didn’t respond. Barbara hung her head.
“Well, now’s your chance if you’re interested.” She nodded to the letters. “I’m going to the market in Bird-in-Hand to pick up a few things.” She took her purse from the rack by the door. “I don’t feel about certain things in those letters the way I did then, but you’ll understand more if you read them. And I’m sure they are reflective of my eighth-grade education at the time.” Shrugging again, she said, “Up to you.” She opened the front door.
“Wait.” Barbara took a step toward her. “I mailed you a letter.”
Sarah pulled her purse up on her shoulder as she shifted her weight. “When?”
“A couple years ago. I’d kept the return address from your first letter.”
Sarah humphed, then shook her head. “You returned all my letters unopened, but then decided to write to me?” She scratched her forehead. “I never got a letter from you.”
“It was never returned to me.” Barbara had always wondered if Sarah had received it and tossed it in the trash unopened.
“I didn’t live at that address anymore.” Sarah’s voice had softened, but only a little. “Just for curiosity’s sake, what did the letter say?”
“That we loved and missed you.”
Sarah looked at her mother for a while with a blank expression before she turned and left, gently closing the door behind her.
Barbara watched through the window as Sarah walked to her car, the one she’d just purchased with the FEMA check she received. It was old, but Sarah said it was all she could afford and that it would help with her job search. As the engine started, Sarah lay her forehead against the steering wheel. When she lifted her head, Barbara saw tears streaming down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how much more her heart could take, but she walked to the door. By the time she opened it and stepped onto the porch, Sarah was backing out of the driveway. They locked eyes for a few seconds, but Sarah left.
When Barbara walked back into the house, she stared at the letters before she picked them up. She thumbed through the postmark dates and picked the one Sarah sent first. She stared at it, knowing that after she knew the truth, she couldn’t un-know it.
But she’d waited too long for answers, so she slid her finger along the seam and pulled out a piece of yellow ruled paper folded in thirds. She opened it and noticed the date at the top of the page. Sarah would have been gone about a week when she’d written it.
Dear Mamm and Daed,
CHAPTER 9
Barbara brought a trembling hand to her chest as she read.
I’m sorry for the way I ran away, but I was scared. Me and Abram went against God and were together as mann and fraa before marriage. We knew it was wrong and prayed for forgiveness. I didn’t think you could make a boppli the first time. But then something terrible happened.
Barbara’s heart hammered against her chest so hard she was almost afraid to keep reading, but she took a deep breath and continued.
That same week, I told you I was going out to eat with my friend Veronica, but we didn’t go eat. We went to a party.
Barbara hadn’t liked Sarah’s Englisch friend, Veronica, but she and John had allowed Sarah to go to supper with her a few times since Sarah was in her rumschpringe. The girl had been gracious enough to drive family members to doctor appointments when it was too far to travel by buggy. Barbara braced herself with a deep breath.
A boy at the party gave me a drink that had alcohol in it. I’m not sure, but it might have had something else in it, too, because when I woke up the next morning, I didn’t remember anything that had happened. But two buttons on my blouse were undone, and my shirt was untucked. I think we did what me and Abram did.
And then I missed my monthly so I bought an Englisch baby testing kit. I’m going to have a baby, Mamm and Daed, and I don’t know who the father is. This would bring even more shame to our family. It must have been my fault the boy did that to me because I was wearing Englisch clothes, showing more of myself than a respectable girl would. I think God is punishing me for what me and Abram did.
I’m scared. Please write me back and tell me what to do.
Love,
Sarah
Barbara covered her face with her hands and sobbed. She took several moments to allow her emotions to go full circle. What had she been thinking to return the letters unopened? Sarah had been so testy back then, and Barbara truly thought that by not reading her daughter’s excuses for running away, she’d come home. But if anyone was to blame for her running away, it was Barbara.
Her hands shook even more as she reached for the next letter. She remembered how much John had wanted to open it, even more than the first one. In Barbara’s mind, Sarah was okay, since she was writing to them. To return them unopened felt like the best way to get her to come home at the time.
She opened the second letter, the postmark dated a few weeks later. Her daughter basically repeated what she’d said in the first letter, and it wasn’t any easier to read the words a second time. She held the letter to her chest as another tear slid down her cheek. Then she reached for the third letter, only to find a more desperate plea that ended with, This is my last try to talk to you. I lieb you. I’m sorry. God has forsaken me. And I guess you have too.
Sobs racked Barbara so violently that she began to gasp for air, her chest tightening. Why didn’t God speak to her back then? Maybe He did, and she just wasn’t listening.
Sarah knocked on Veronica’s door. She’d gotten the address from Veronica’s mother. It was a small house outside Bird-in-Hand, and after wandering around the market, she forced herself to make the visit. Hopefully through Veronica she could face the monster wearing a cowboy hat who haunted her dreams. Veronica might know if he was still in the area or what had become of him. Sarah never told her friend what happened that night. Veronica had been in a bedroom with some other guy, and Sarah’s shame kept her silent on the ride back to Veronica’s house the next morning.
Veronica opened the door, and her mouth fell open as her false dark lashes flew up. Gasping, she threw her arms around Sarah’s neck and squeezed. Sarah slowly put her arms around her former friend. She’d never blamed her for what happened, but the association between Veronica and that horrible night had been enough that Sarah hadn’t contacted her since she left.
“I always wondered what happened to you.” Veronica held her at arm’s length, studying her, looking her up and down. “You look great.”
Sarah forced a smile. “So do you.” Veronica’s long blonde hair was now cut in a short and stylish bob, and as Veronica lowered her arms, she placed a hand on her stomach, a small pooch showing beneath a yellow T-shirt. “You’re pregnant.”
Veronica held up her left hand, sporting a small diamond ring. “And married.” She rolled her eyes. “Not exactly in that order, but we’re very happy. This is actually our second baby on the way. We got married before Haley was born. She’s almost two now.” She motioned for Sarah to follow her over the threshold into a small living room. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and smelled like cookies baking. “Haley is napping, but I hope she wakes up before you leave. She’s our everything.”
“I’m so happy for you.” Veronica had made a good life for herself, and Sarah was glad. They’d grown up in different worlds, but Veronica had always been good to her, and if she’d known what happened that night, she would have comforted her.
Sarah shivered when she recalled the woozy way she’d felt that night and how she’d vomited most of the next day. In her dreams, the monster always said, “I actually did it with an Amish chick.” She had no idea if that was said in real life, but the words h
ad hung in her mind for six years and haunted her sleep, which only solidified to her that the worst had happened.
Jayden Meyers. The monster in the cowboy hat. She could still see his face and the way he chuckled the next morning as he left her sitting on an unmade bed, not knowing how she’d gotten there in the first place.
Veronica sat on a green-and-white couch, motioning for Sarah to do the same. “So, I have to know. Why did you disappear the way you did? I made your mom promise to tell me if she heard anything, and I gave her my phone number, but I never got any news. Where have you been? And what are you doing back?”
Sarah hadn’t planned what she would say, and she wanted to be careful how she explained the situation to Veronica. She didn’t want her to feel responsible in any way. All her friend had done was invite Sarah to the party, which was mostly Englisch kids, but a few Amish teenagers in their rumschpringe had been there too.
“Well, I left because, um . . .” Sarah cleared her throat. “I, uh . . .”
Veronica held up a finger. “Hold that thought because I want to hear everything. But I hear Haley waking up.” She left the room and walked down a small hallway, so Sarah took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say. But when Veronica came back, she was beaming with a smile stretched across her face. She kissed the little girl on the cheek, then set her on the couch between them. The toddler promptly buried her head in her mother’s lap.
“Haley, this is my friend Sarah. Don’t be shy.” Veronica gently tickled the little girl. “Look up, sleepyhead.”
Sarah smiled, remembering when Miriam was that age. Haley looked briefly at her. “She’s adorable.”
“We love her so much.” She lifted Haley onto her lap as the girl burrowed against her mother’s chest.
“Motherhood suits you.” Sarah was glad to see Veronica so happy. Back then, she’d worried about her. Veronica had partied too much, done a few drugs, and was even arrested once for shoplifting a pair of earrings. But she’d always been a good friend to Sarah. Trustworthy and kind. Sarah’s mother hadn’t liked her, but Barbara didn’t care for most of the Englisch. There were a lot of times Veronica had driven Sarah, her mother, and her grandmother to doctor’s appointments, and even once to the hospital when her grandmother had broken her hip. Veronica was always willing to pick up prescriptions too. Sarah used to remind her mother of that when she questioned Sarah’s friendship with Veronica. But it wasn’t just about the rides. Veronica was a nice person, deserving of this life she’d made for herself. Simplistic, but real, it seemed.