But it was Mary Beiler, the bishop’s wife, who held Tessie’s gaze the longest, a somber curve to her mouth as she sat in the back with her youngest child, tiny Anna. Sighing, Tessie could only imagine what must be going through the woman’s mind. Was she reliving the day her former best friend, Katie Lapp, had rushed out of the church service, refusing to marry the then-widowed Bishop John? Was dear Mary wondering why Tessie hadn’t confessed more?
Of course she is, Tessie thought as she continued toward the kitchen and beyond. Her steps must not falter. And once she found her coat and scarf in the enclosed porch, she exited alone by way of the back door out into the crisp, cold air.
She refused to let anxiety overtake her as she walked briskly toward home. The wintertime sun sliced across snow-packed Hickory Lane, across the white rooftops of neighbors’ homes and their tall silos. She didn’t have to wonder if the bishop would recommend to impose a temporary excommunication—the Bann—for her apparent lack of sincerity today.
All the same, Tessie felt she’d done the right thing by her love for Marcus. And their baby.
Bishop John announced there would be a short meeting of the ministers in a room upstairs, urging the membership to wait there “for the will of the Lord to be done in this matter.”
Mandy did not budge nor even look about her; none of the other women sharing her bench so much as whispered. She remembered Tessie’s bold walk past them as she left the house of worship. What had happened to keep her from confessing all?
Is she mixed-up, confused?
The rows of benches in front of Mandy—seven, she’d counted earlier—supported the older women, their white organdy Kapps like small translucent moons floating on the back of their graying heads. Her heart went out to them; Tessie’s peculiar behavior had extended the already long meeting. Their backs must be aching, she thought, remembering the years she’d spent as a teenager, prior to baptism, leaning against the wall on the last row of benches. The welcome resting spot had nearly been a deterrent to formally joining church.
When the ministers returned, the bishop firmly declared, “We are in agreement to cast a vote of the membership on the suggested remedy for Tessie’s rebellious action this day.”
Mandy froze. Were they going to put the Bann on her sister?
“Have you lost your mind, Tessie Ann? You made no sense whatsoever today at church,” her father stated as he sat at the head of the table, hours later. The silence in the house reached into every room as he paused. “It’s plainly clear that you sinned and did not confess it! ‘Speak ye every man the truth . . .’” he said, quoting the Old Testament verse from Zechariah.
Just as she hadn’t revealed her elopement at her confession, Tessie would not defend herself now. She had already told her father the truth, and it had done her no good. Now she felt sure it was her place to carry this love burden.
“The membership has voted,” Dat continued. “You are required to return in two weeks to the next church gathering to hear the decision for yourself . . . to take your discipline.” He sighed loudly and shook his head. “You never should’ve left for home after church without waiting for the membership to have their say. What were ya thinkin’?”
“She simply wasn’t,” Mamma said softly, shame for Tessie on her face.
Tessie nodded, knowing better than to press this. “I’ll be there, next Preaching service . . . to take my discipline.”
“Des gut, then.” Dat pushed his callused hand through his thin hair. “And, while ya wait, it’d be right schmaert to beseech the Lord God for wisdom. That’s all I’ll say on this for now.”
Feeling drained of emotion and needing to lie down, Tessie waited till her father had gone to rest in the guest room before she rose and headed upstairs.
No matter what she did—drinking warm milk, taking aspirin—nothing brought sleep to Mandy’s weary eyes that night. And to think she’d given away all of her sleeping pills to Mamma, who on a night like this undoubtedly needed one, as well.
So, giving up on getting any rest, Mandy put on her slippers and bathrobe and trudged downstairs, where she sat at the table, feeling ill. For a girl who had always been well thought of, and whose giving spirit had reached out to the whole of the community . . . well, Tessie had certainly fooled everyone.
Mandy leaned her face into her hands. She felt as if her insides were giving way along with her heart. Despite that, she offered up a prayer for Tessie Ann, realizing their relationship was about to change drastically, unless a confession was forthcoming in two weeks. Would Tessie manage to repent sooner rather than later? And if not, what on earth was holding her back?
Chapter 25
Monday morning, Tessie and Mamma were up at four-thirty to get the washing, including Dawdi Dave’s, through the wringer washer and out on the line early. They said very little to each other as they worked side by side. Now and then, Tessie noticed her mother looking at her askance, as if attempting to understand what had happened yesterday at church.
Finally Mamma said, “Declaring guilt is gut for the soul.”
“I believe that, too,” Tessie replied, but that was all she could manage.
Mamma looked ever so tired.
“Maybe you should try an’ rest sometime this afternoon, once dinner’s over,” Tessie suggested kindly.
“Ain’t so easy to sleep these days.”
The words stung Tessie. She, too, struggled with regular insomnia more now than before, and she remembered that her sister Miriam had once shared about her wakefulness while she was pregnant. Yet knowing that Mamma was troubled and that it pointed to Tessie made her feel all the worse.
At the noon meal, Dat read from the Bible prior to the silent table prayer, though he usually only read the Scriptures in the evenings, after supper. Less surprising was the passage her father had chosen today. “‘Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much,’” Dat read from the epistle of James. The way her father leaned hard on the words confess and healed made Tessie take notice.
Even her dour-looking Dawdi Dave, his salt-and-pepper beard touching the table’s surface across from her, captured Tessie’s gaze with his quizzical eyes. Again, she felt regret that the rest of her family hadn’t been told about her marriage. But she did not dare risk her father’s anger and bring it up a second time.
The talk at the table was limited to casual asides about the cold weather, the delicious baked ham and mashed potatoes, and the sweet pumpkin bread Mamma had put on the table before serving up the lemon pound cake with whipped cream topping as a surprise.
“Why don’t ya come over and visit me sometime soon, Tessie Ann,” her grandfather said before leaving to go next door.
Tessie said she would, feeling low in spirit. No doubt he planned to say more of the things she’d already heard today from Mamma . . . and from Scripture.
Tuesday night arrived, twinkling with more snow and with the growing realization that Tessie’s family life was definitely changing. Her mother, especially, seemed anxious to encourage Tessie to follow through with the confession she’d set out to give. She spoke of little else.
Since yesterday noon, each of Tessie’s sisters had dropped in, as well, every one of them seeming to echo Mamma’s words. Tessie Ann felt weary of all the advice. Oh, how she simply wished she could return to the past.
Wednesday afternoon, a letter arrived from Levi Smucker, postmarked Sarasota, Florida. Tessie rather welcomed it, yearning for some everyday communication. The way things were going at home and around the neighborhood, she felt resigned to conversations that pertained only to her so-called wrongdoing and her need to repent.
Mamma had taken the team up the road after dinner to visit with Rhoda Kurtz, where she was joining with Rebecca Lapp and Mattie Beiler to make pies to sell at market tomorrow. For once, Mamma had not invited Tessie along. Feeling as isolated as her sister Mandy said she felt at times, Tessie
went to sit in the front room near the heater stove, where she had been finishing up some sewing.
She looked down at the letter in her hand, suddenly hesitant. Eventually, though, curiosity overcame her, and she opened Levi’s letter.
Dear Tessie Ann,
I promised I’d write to you, but I’m not the best letter writer. So please bear with me.
How are you? And how’s everything in Hickory Hollow? Are you getting more snow? It’s hard to believe how warm it is down here in Florida, and I’m beginning to understand why my grandparents and so many others like to come to this tropical community for the winter. It’s an escape, I’m thinking. A way to keep warm during Lancaster County’s lengthy cold snaps.
Like I told you on our first date, I’m noodling the idea of going deep-sea fishing. My grandmother frowns at the notion, as you can imagine. To be honest, I’d rather not give her cause for worry, though I think it would be quite the adventure. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it if I do go, but I keep myself so busy caring for my grandparents presently, Grandmammi especially, I don’t have much time for fanciful ideas.
He shared with her the sights he’d enjoyed since arriving, as well as mentioning a rather competitive Scrabble game. Levi also described the large tricycles many of the Amishwomen rode up and down the narrow streets in the little village of Pinecraft. He seemed to enjoy being one of the few young people there this time of year as he tended to his beloved grandparents.
Tessie could picture quite clearly what he was writing about and was surprised there were three pages to his newsy letter. He even talked about a particular type of peanut butter spread the Amishwomen there made. He wondered why the womenfolk in Hickory Hollow didn’t make it quite like this, with oodles of extra syrup. He put a smiley face next to that particular line.
Tessie finished reading, sad to see the letter end. It was obvious how fond he was of her; otherwise, why would someone who didn’t enjoy writing letters want to pen such a long one? She sincerely hoped he had a pleasant time during his stay in Florida, soaking up the sunshine and exploring the sea in what free time he might find.
A single young man like Levi deserved a reply, yet Tessie knew that she must be forthright about what she wrote—he needed to know about her condition. It was apparent by his letter that none of their church members had broken the required silence and spilled the beans about Tessie’s attempt to confess last Sunday. At least not yet.
Levi will be relieved I’m writing, once he learns the shape I’m in. . . .
Finding her stationery box, she pulled out a single sheet and began to write by lantern light.
Dear Levi,
Thank you for your thoughtful letter. I’ve enjoyed hearing about your experiences there in Florida . . . and I pray your grandmother is getting along much better very soon.
What I want to tell you here is ever so important, Levi. You see, I’m going to have a baby in July, and because of this I don’t expect you to keep writing to me, kind though you’ve been. . . .
As had been the case month after month, Mandy was devastated once again to learn she wasn’t pregnant. I just want to cry, she thought, and she went right to her room and did so.
Everywhere she went, she seemed to encounter expectant mothers—at Preaching service, at market, at quilting bees . . . and Tessie Ann.
Growing up in her family’s home with four sisters, Mandy had never known such a silence there, and it made her jittery. The place had become the opposite of a refuge—the empty rooms a constant reminder of what she longed for and did not have.
Since her cooking and cleaning was caught up by midafternoon, she roamed upstairs, trying to decide where she’d put together a nursery when the time came. If it did. “Oh, dear Lord, what’s wrong with me? Am I barren?” She assumed it was her problem and not Sylvan’s. No, surely their lack of children could never point to him.
Trying not to give way to despair, Mandy decided to do some piecework and begin to cut small squares for a baby quilt. Such a project made the silent confines of her home more bearable, at least for the moment. The dear Lord knew she needed something, because the walls were pressing closer with each passing month. She simply did not fit in with a community that put such a high value on children—many children per household, in fact. The failure to conceive isolated her, whether in reality or in her mind.
Mandy picked up her basket of fabric and scissors, weary of tears . . . yet she never permitted her husband to see inside her heavy heart to her ever-present sorrow. Her life with Sylvan had become little more than waiting for the day their love might spring at last to life.
Sitting down to work in the kitchen, Mandy decided that, if nothing else, she could give the quilt to Tessie for her baby. A lightweight coverlet would be ideal since Tessie’s little one must surely be coming in the heat of summer. Perhaps my own life will be different by then. . . .
———
Mandy had not expected a visit from Mamma just now, but there she stood at the back door, nonetheless. Only an hour or so had passed since she’d gotten the idea to make a baby quilt, and the project was all laid out on the kitchen table.
When she heard the knock, for a moment she considered quickly gathering up the evidence. But there wasn’t time, and here came her mother, walking right in the door, as family typically did.
“Hope ya don’t mind me just appearin’,” said Mamma, eyeing the squares and going directly to look at the pretty pattern Mandy had created. “That’s right nice.” She lifted her eyes to Mandy’s, then came over to give her a quick hug. “For your baby?”
Mandy sucked in a breath and shook her head. “Not just yet, Mamma, but soon . . . I hope, very soon.”
“Ah . . . for Tessie, then?”
“Maybe so.”
Thankfully, her mother let that go and sat herself down at the opposite end of the table, folding her pink hands in front of her—like Dat often did when his mind was working on something heavy.
“I’m awful worried.” Mamma frowned.
“’Bout Tessie Ann?”
“Can’t put my finger on what it is with her. I’m concerned that Marcus’s death has affected her terribly.”
“I’ve wondered that, too.”
“Well, I wonder if something’s snapped, maybe, in her mind.”
“She seems normal enough to me.”
“But to say what she did in front of the whole church?” Mamma shook her head. “I can’t get over it. Neither can your father. He’s on his knees prayin’ every night now, pleading with the Lord Gott to help our poor Tessie think straight.”
Mandy certainly hadn’t noticed anything wrong with Tessie’s mind, and she wished her mother wouldn’t say such things.
“Since you and Tessie were always closer than the other girls, I’ve been wonderin’ what you think ’bout this.”
Mandy shook her head. She guessed her mother hadn’t sensed the difficulties between her and Tessie these past couple of years. She went to the sink to lather up her hands, using some homemade soap she and Tessie had made a few months ago. She let the warm water run and run, then finally turned off the faucet and dried her hands. “Would ya like a piece of pie or something to eat?”
“Kumme sit by me,” Mamma said, tapping the table. “Why do you think Tessie didn’t confess her sin . . . havin’ a baby out of wedlock?”
They were getting into dangerous territory, speculating like this. “Not to be disrespectful, Mamma, but we shouldn’t be talking ’bout this, should we?”
“Well, it wasn’t just at Preaching. She’s been mum on that point with me when I’ve asked, as well—hasn’t admitted to any wrongdoing. Other than saying she was disobedient to me and your father, that is.”
“Ach, then, I just don’t know.”
Mamma fell silent, shaking her head slowly.
“We must pray for Tessie, Mamma. Something’s troubling her . . . and not just her pregnancy.”
Her mother looked at her, eyes shimmering. “�
��Tis a mystery, and your father and I fear it will be her undoing.”
Is Tessie too mindful of the past to be fully aware of the present? thought Mandy sadly.
She brought out some peanut butter and a stalk of celery, washing the latter and cutting it into smaller sticks. Then, carrying a tray over to the table, she managed to get her mother to agree to have a snack, and for the longest time they sat and nibbled, mercifully without saying more.
Chapter 26
The first thing that crossed her mind when Tessie spotted another letter from Levi two days later—another snowy Friday afternoon—was that he was wasting time writing to her. Surely he hasn’t received my own letter just yet.
She experienced concern and a speck of sadness at seeing her name on this envelope. Had he gone deep-sea fishing, she wondered, giving his Grandmammi more gray hairs? She pondered his longing for adventure and managed a faint smile.
She appreciated his thoughtfulness, if that’s what it was. Levi Smucker had always been the sort of fellow a girl might expect to be exceptionally kind, even sympathetic, back when she’d first known him at the one-room schoolhouse up the road. Levi often wore a caring expression, especially when one of the younger schoolchildren needed help. She recalled seeing him assist one of the little boys who’d fallen and hurt himself during a rather rough corner ball game at recess. And while Levi most likely didn’t know of Tessie’s present state, he had expressed concern early on for her loss of Marcus. Yet Marcus was the very beau who kept Levi from having a chance with me. . . .
Hurrying up the lane toward the house, Tessie was thankful she’d thought to bring her woolen scarf this short distance, wrapping it around her neck and part of her face, the way Dawdi Dave did this time of year. She made a mental note of promising Mamma to go over and clean his place tomorrow, before she went to the Bird-in-Hand shop to help out Mandy and Cousin Emmalyn.
Last Bride, The (Home to Hickory Hollow Book #5) Page 15