The Bishop's Daughter

by Patricia Johns

  “You were sleeping,” he said. “I said that we paved this intersection. Put down the asphalt.”

  “Oh.” She looked out the window. “So that was your job?”

  “Yah. That was my job.”

  He worked a lot of overtime for this project. Not all of the guys wanted to work more, but he’d been lonely, and he’d been grateful for a chance to keep busy. When his body was aching from hard work, he slept more easily and could escape the drifting thoughts of Sadie, his parents, the life he used to have.

  Traffic started moving again, and he eased forward, following the familiar streets that he knew so well.

  “Over there—” He pointed out her window toward a fast food chicken joint. “That restaurant. Absolom and I liked going there. Really cheap food, but tasty.”

  “Did you cook for yourself?” she asked, squinting at him.

  “I cook rather well.” He shot her a grin. “The Englishers expect men to be able to cook. In fact, men will brag about their cooking to the women folk—it’s sort of... the women like the idea.”

  Sadie flattened her lips—disapproval. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s different with them. But, yes, I learned to cook for myself. Not as well as you can, I’m sure, but—I ate.”

  “And my brother?” she asked.

  “He cooks better than I do.” Elijah nodded toward a grassy area as they drove past. “And I used to go sit there. That’s a park. It’s just some greenery for folk. I used to go there early in the morning so I could smell the dew and feel the morning air.”

  It was barely an acre of grass, a few trees, a path that meandered through. And it was surrounded by roads and apartment buildings—constant noise. There was no silence to be had in the city.

  “It looks . . .” She paused.

  “Pathetic.” Elijah finished it for her. “I know. It’s nothing compared to a farm, is it? I used to think it was like a prison window with a small square of blue sky. I used it like a prisoner would that window—a place to focus my hopes.”

  “Hopes for what?” she asked.

  Elijah signaled to change lanes and pulled out in front of a dump truck lumbering up behind. “I don’t even know. It changed from day to day.”

  Some days he hoped for some little bit of belonging. Other days he hoped for a woman in his life to make him feel loved. And then there were the days that all he wanted was to be Englisher to the core and to forget his Amish roots that were holding him back.

  Absolom’s apartment building was ahead, and Elijah slowed as he approached.

  “Are we there?” Sadie asked.

  “This is it.”

  Sadie leaned forward so she could see better, her gaze moving up the building. Twenty floors of apartments and rusted balcony railings—it was a far cry from the whitewashed farmhouses, chicken coops, and rolling fields of Morinville. For a lot of people, home was as simple as a TV and a hot plate.

  Elijah turned into the parking area and found a spot in visitor parking. Sadie was silent, and she clutched that small package in her lap, knuckles white. When he turned off the engine, he turned toward her.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “No.” She licked her lips. “I’m not.”

  Maybe all of this was more of a shock than he’d anticipated. He reached over and put a hand over hers.

  “It’s not so bad. You get used to it.”

  She nodded slowly, then pulled her hand out from under his. She leaned forward again, attempting to look up at the building, but she wouldn’t be able to see much. Through her eyes, it was probably ugly and horrible. But there were worse places to live in the city—which he and Absolom had discovered early on. This was safe, relatively clean, and wasn’t infested by bugs. The thing was, there were some beautiful neighborhoods with houses and yards, trees that offered languid shade. There were places in this city that would have made life here much more comfortable.

  He’d prayed for a home like that. It was a possibility, if he and Absolom could build a successful business.

  “All right,” she said, smoothing her hand over the paper-covered package. “I’m ready now.”

  They got out of the car, and Elijah waited for her to join him on his side before they walked together past the parked cars. Sadie held that package against her stomach, and Elijah put an arm around her to nudge her away from a dead bird that lay splayed on the asphalt. She followed his nudge, moving closer against him, and he felt a flip in his stomach.

  In his memories, in his fantasies, on her father’s farm, or even here in Chicago, this woman in his arms made him feel the same way—facing her was supposed to make it easier. So far, it had only made it worse.

  He opened the front door, letting her go inside ahead of him, then he punched the buzzer number on the keypad. There was a crackly ringing tone. Sadie didn’t ask any questions, but her gaze followed his every move.

  “Yeah?” a tired female voice said.

  “Sharon? It’s Eli.”

  “Oh, hey!” Sharon sounded more cheerful. “Come on up.”

  There was a buzz, and he reached for the second door and pulled it open while it was momentarily unlocked. Sadie didn’t move until he gestured for her to go inside ahead of him.

  “Eli,” she murmured. “That’s what they call you here?”

  “Yah. Just a . . . nickname, I guess.”

  He wasn’t the same old Elijah in the city, and he could sense that she was starting to see that. A man had to adjust to his surroundings, and he’d done that as best he could. There was no other way to make it. He led the way to the elevator and pushed the call button.

  “Just a couple of things,” Elijah said. “Sharon’s not like you Amish women. She’s not a particular housekeeper like Amish women are, and she’s going to be dressed a lot differently than you’re used to. Less modestly, I guess. You get used to it, but it might be a surprise at first.”

  Sadie remained silent, and when the door slid open, they stepped inside. He punched the sixteenth floor and the doors slid shut again. Sadie felt her hair, then glanced toward Elijah.

  “Do I look okay?” she asked uncertainly, and Elijah shot her a grin. She stood there in her long, Amish cut, mauve dress, and a white apron and kapp. Very proper and neat, her hair smoothed back under the crisp, white cloth of her kapp. Her lips were pale, though—nerves, probably. And she held that package in front of her like a shield.

  “Yah. You look very nice,” he said. Not that Absolom and Sharon would be judging. Still, she comforted Elijah, somehow. And it wasn’t just the familiar Amish dress, either. Having her here in the city, in this building . . . too many nights he’d lain awake and tried to imagine what this would be like.

  The elevator door pinged then slid open, and he led her into a hallway that smelled of fried foods, curry, and some other spices he didn’t recognize. Sadie looked around, then followed him toward the end. Elijah knew the door, and he paused in front of it.

  “This is it,” he said quietly.

  Sadie nodded quickly, then reached out and rapped sharply on the door. From inside, Elijah could hear the sound of the TV murmuring away, and there was the soft cry of a baby that grew louder with the shuffle of slippers. Then the lock scraped back, and the door opened.

  Sharon stood there in a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, the baby on her shoulder. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail on the top of her head, and she shot Elijah a relieved grin.

  “Hey, you, get in here,” she said, stepping back. “Long time no see. Oh, my God, you look like—” Sharon stopped, turning her attention to Sadie. “Hi.”

  “Hello.” Sadie’s voice sounded slightly strangled. “I’m Sadie. Absolom’s sister.”

  “Yeah, Eli said you were coming. Hi. Nice to meet you. Come on in. It’s a mess in here, so watch where you step.” Sharon wandered back into the apartment. “Chase, Uncle Eli’s here.”

  Elijah gestured Sadie inside. He shut the door behind him, locking it, and he caught sight of littl
e Chase peeking around the corner. He’d always been small for his age, but he made up for it with energy.

  “Hey, buddy,” Elijah said with a grin. “Come say hi.”

  The little boy scampered up, holding an action figure out in front of him. “Look what I got!”

  “Pretty great.” Elijah reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair, then raised his voice so Sharon could hear him. “Is Absolom home?”

  “Not yet. He worked last night,” Sharon replied. “And believe me, I can’t wait for him to get here. I’m wiped.”

  Elijah peeked into the living room, past the heaps of clothes piled on the couch and the piles of fast food wrappers on the coffee table.

  “Yeah, I know,” Sharon muttered. “Absolom doesn’t help out with ‘women’s work’”—she made air quotes—“and I’m not the only one who lives here.”

  “No, no, it’s fine,” Elijah said quickly.

  Sadie stood statue stiff, and Elijah nudged her side with his elbow. She looked more horrified than anything, and by the look on Sharon’s face, she was starting to notice.

  “Congratulations on the baby,” Elijah said. “Absolom said you named her Sarah.”

  “Yeah.” Sharon eyed Sadie again, then sighed. She turned to Elijah. “Would you hold the baby? I desperately need a shower. I won’t even tell you how long it’s been.... Absolom should be here any time now.”

  Elijah awkwardly accepted the infant and pulled her into his chest. She was tiny and smelled like a dirty diaper. He shot Sadie a panicked look. What was he supposed to do with this baby? Sharon didn’t seem worried, though. She plucked at the front of her shirt, fanning it out to cool off.

  “Chase, turn down the TV,” Sharon said. “I’m going for a shower.”

  Chase ignored his mother and put up the volume instead, where a movie was playing that looked way too mature for a boy his age to be watching. She headed down the hallway to the bathroom. The door shut, and a moment later the water came on.

  Elijah met Sadie’s wide-eyed gaze with a tentative smile of his own. He felt like he was presenting more than her brother . . . this was his life, too.

  “So, this is your niece,” Elijah said, looking down at the infant in his arms.

  “Yah . . .” Sadie breathed, and little Sarah’s face crumpled into a wail.

  * * *

  Sadie looked around at her brother’s home. Amish homes were neat and relatively bare. This place was cluttered and smelled of old food and baby diapers. The boy sat in front of the TV, staring as fixedly as if he were watching an anthill. Her fingers itched to do something about the mess. If this were an Amish family member’s home, she’d roll up her sleeves and get to work.

  “Rock her,” Sadie said, and Elijah did as she told him and moved from side to side. The baby settled, her cries turning into hiccoughs.

  “Should I clean?” she asked softly, her gaze moving over to the pile of wrappers on the coffee table. She could only imagine the state of the kitchen.

  “No!” Elijah’s eyes widened in alarm. “No, Sadie. It’s not like that here. You don’t come over and meddle in people’s stuff.”

  “She’s just had a baby, though,” Sadie said. “It’s not easy.”

  “Just . . . don’t.” Elijah looked down at the baby uneasily.

  “Here.” Sadie put the package down on the arm of the couch and reached for the infant. Elijah gratefully handed her over. “Find me a diaper. I can do this, at least.”

  It had been a while since Sammie was this small, but she’d helped with numerous babies since his birth. There was always a new baby arriving in their community, and when that happened, the women pulled together and helped each other out.

  Elijah poked around the living room, looking for diapers.

  “Chase,” Elijah said. “Where does your mom keep the diapers?”

  “In the bag.” Chase pointed to a cloth bag hanging over the back of a kitchen chair, and Elijah headed over toward it. He peered inside, and then returned with the entire bag.

  Sadie was used to working with cloth diapers, but she understood the general idea of the disposable kind. She laid little Sarah on the couch and leaned over her so that the baby could focus on her face.

  “Hi there, sweetie,” she crooned. “I’m going to clean you right up and it’s going to feel so nice to have a fresh diaper . . . yes, it is . . .”

  Chase turned away from the TV and crept closer to watch her work.

  “That’s my sister,” the boy announced.

  “And she’s very cute,” Sadie said with a smile. “I heard that you’re four.”

  “Yup. Four.” Chase poked at his sister. “She’s zero.”

  Sadie reached for a wipe and set to work on the little bottom. It didn’t take her long to get the baby cleaned up. When Sarah was smelling fresh once more, Sadie leaned back against the couch and looked down into the tiny face. This was her niece. It was hard to tell at this age—babies all looked alike. But maybe she could see some Graber in that little nose.

  “Her name’s Sarah,” Chase babbled on. “And she’s named after Uncle Abe’s mom. She’s named Sarah, too.”

  “That’s right.” Sadie reached out and ruffled his hair. “I’m”—she hesitated over the boy’s name for her brother—“Uncle Abe’s sister. So Sarah is my mom, too.”

  The boy froze, his eyes widening. “You don’t love Uncle Abe no more.”

  “What?” Sadie felt the words hit her in the chest.

  “Uncle Abe’s mom and dad and all them, they don’t love him no more.”

  Was that what he told people? Is that what everyone thought—that the family that had born him, raised him, loved him, had suddenly turned into monsters who turned off their feelings? Who had told them that?

  “That’s not true, Chase. We love Absolom very much. Very, very much. No one has stopped loving him,” she said. “Elijah, is that what you told them?”

  But Chase had turned away. He knew the version that he’d been told, apparently, and she and her parents were villains in that story—the ones who rejected Absolom. But there was always another side to a tale like that—more rejection, more heartbreak.

  Before Elijah could reply, there was the sound of a key in the lock of the front door, and it opened. Sadie’s breath caught in her throat and she carefully rose to her feet, the baby clutched close in her arms.

  He was the same old Absolom—except he wasn’t smooth-shaven anymore. He looked scruffy, and his hair was cut in an Englisher style. He wore a pair of dirty jeans and a dusty white T-shirt. When he saw Sadie, the color drained from his face and tears sprung to his eyes.

  “Hey—” he said gruffly. “Wow. Hey . . .”

  He didn’t know what to say any more than she did. He came over and gave her an awkward hug, the baby between them. It wasn’t the satisfactory sort of greeting she’d imagined.

  “How are Mamm and Daet?” Absolom asked, taking the baby from Sadie’s arms.

  “Good . . .” She nodded. “They miss you. So much. Mamm was really touched to know that you named the baby after her.”

  “Yah. Good.” Absolom looked down at his daughter in his arms. “It seemed to fit her. And Daet?”

  “He sent me, didn’t he?” Sadie shrugged faintly, and their eyes met—siblings with that mutual understanding of their parents’ quirks, even after all these years. In some ways, it was like no time had passed at all.

  “Taking care of Elijah?” Absolom asked with a low laugh. “Good to see you, buddy.”

  “Yah.” Elijah reached out and they shook hands. “Didn’t think it would be so soon.”

  “Hey, I was hoping. The sooner we start collecting clients the better.” Absolom nodded a few more times, then licked his lips and looked down. “How is everyone else?”

  For the next few minutes, Sadie filled her brother in on their other siblings—marriages, children—and on their great-uncle who had died, along with a distant cousin who’d been in an accident, between his buggy and a truck that h
ad been speeding along the back roads.

  “And Rosie is boy crazy now,” Sadie finished with a short laugh.

  “Yah?” Absolom shook his head. “In my mind, she’s just a little girl . . .”

  “It’s been nine years,” Sadie said. “She’s almost a woman now.” There were a couple of beats of silence. “But what about you, Absolom?”

  “Well, there’s my daughter.” He looked lovingly down at the baby. “And you’ve met Chase, I see. And Sharon . . .”

  Just then, Sharon came out from the hallway, wearing the same clothes as earlier, but her hair was wet. She eyed Sadie uncomfortably, then gave Absolom a tired smile.

  “I’m going out,” she said curtly. “I just need some space. I’m going crazy.”

  Absolom rose to give her a peck on her cheek, and they murmured together at the door for a moment or two, Absolom’s words too quiet to hear, Sharon’s harsher and more frustrated. When she’d left, Absolom came back, the baby still snuggled in his arms. He smiled faintly.

  “She just gets tired. Being with the kids all day,” Absolom said.

  Sadie looked down. This wasn’t the happy home she’d imagined her brother to have. Something was wrong here, but who was she to talk? There had been plenty wrong in her home, as well. Marriage, family—none of it came easily. What had her mother-in-law said? It took a few years to settle in properly? Maybe it was the same for Absolom.

  Chase lost interest in the TV and crawled up onto the couch next to Absolom. Absolom put an arm around the boy, and Elijah reached for a little black box, pushed a button, and the TV fell silent.

  “No!” Chase said, jumping up with fury in his young eyes. “No, Uncle Eli!”

  “What did your mom say?” Absolom asked tiredly. “Are you allowed to watch that?”

  “Yeah! Put it back on!”

  Sadie had never seen a more defiant, bossy child before in her life. The boy jumped up and swung a small fist at Elijah, who put out a hand to catch it as gently as possible, then Chase went to the TV, and the screen burst back to life. She looked over at her brother, and he just shrugged.

  “If his mamm lets him . . .” he said.

  If Sammie tried acting like that, he’d find his bottom paddled right quick—by pretty much any adult within reach. Amish children didn’t try defiance more than once, but this child was growing up with an exhausted mother and a stepfather who wasn’t in the role of father . . . the confusing Englisher way of doing things. As she watched the little boy sink down in front of the TV again, his slender shoulders slumping, she had the urge to hug him. And maybe give him a job to do. Work started young for a reason.