An Amish Husband for Tillie

by Amy Lillard

  Tillie shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. Maybe I should go back to Melvin.”

  “No!” her sisters exclaimed simultaneously. Their voices were loud enough that they drew the attention of several people standing close by. Leah waved away their exclamation as if it never happened and turned back to Tillie. “You can’t go back yet. You just got home.”

  “I know, but . . .” She couldn’t finish that sentence. She knew she had just gotten home, but she also knew that her baby needed a father. She knew that. She knew also that the community would never forgive her without a husband. She knew, but was what she was doing really what was best for all involved? Or was she just being selfish? Wishing for things to be impossibly different?

  “Don’t,” Hannah said. She wrapped her fingers around one of Tillie’s arms, and Leah got the other. Together her sisters marched her through the house and out the back door. There were a few other wedding goers outside, milling around. Some of the men were smoking, and a few of the kids in attendance were sitting under the tree swing and playing some sort of game.

  And now that they were out in the fresh air, Tillie sucked in a deep breath. It felt a little better to be outdoors; not so confining.

  “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?” Hannah said.

  “And don’t tell us what you think we want to hear. Tell us what this is really about,” Leah interjected.

  Tillie shook her head. “I can’t explain.”

  “Try.” Leah pinned her with a sharp look. “None of that watered-down stuff that you tell Mamm.”

  “What if Melvin doesn’t come?” Tillie asked. The question fell between them like a dead goose. She had told them that Melvin wasn’t coming, but she had been waiting for his return all the same. And with every day that passed, it seemed more and more unlikely that he would ever come.

  “I don’t know,” Hannah said.

  Leah shot their sister a look that could melt wax, then she turned back to Tillie. “You know.”

  They all knew. She would have to leave. She would have to go back to the English world. She didn’t have to return to Melvin, but she couldn’t stay there.

  “You just need to sit down with the bishop and work through this. Maybe he can help. There is a solution. There is an answer.”

  She knew that, though she dreaded speaking with the bishop more than anything else she could think of. But she knew as well as her sisters that without that conversation, she would have no peace. She supposed she should settle that as quick as she possibly could. But knowing something and being able to do it were two very different things.

  Hannah grabbed Tillie’s hand in her own. Leah laid hers on top of theirs.

  “Just promise me one thing,” Hannah said.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Leah interjected.

  “Hasty,” Hannah corrected her impetuous twin. “Don’t do anything hasty. There’s always an answer.”

  “Have you prayed about it?” Leah asked.

  Tillie shot her a look. “No, I hadn’t thought about that.”

  Leah laughed and pinched the side of Tillie’s face in typical sisterly fashion. “You’re cheeky. I like that.”

  “He hasn’t answered.”

  “Melvin?” Hannah asked.

  Tillie shook her head. “God.”

  “Well, it is Christmastime. He’s probably busy,” Leah quipped.

  “Give it time,” Hannah said.

  There was the word again. Everything needed time. She just wasn’t sure how much of that she had.

  “Gift time!” someone called from the back door.

  “We better go back in,” Hannah said. She and Leah turned toward the house.

  Tillie waved them away. “Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

  The sisters exchanged a look. Tillie knew they were both reluctant to leave her behind.

  “Go on,” she said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “You got five,” Hannah said. “Then we’re coming after you.”

  She just needed a breath of air. She had forgotten about all the differences between the English world and the Amish world. There were so many things that were so hard to adjust to when going from one to the other. All the things a person needed in the English world—electricity, water, money for gas. Food was more expensive. And everything seemed to be more spread out. Even a couple of English parties that Melvin had dragged her to weren’t as busy and noisy as one Amish wedding. She just needed a little more space. But she knew that if she took too long, her sisters would indeed come back for her.

  Most everyone from outside had gone into the house. She was grateful for the added privacy, and yet at the same time she felt strangely alone. She rubbed a hand over her belly, something she didn’t allow herself to do often when she was out like she was right then. But there wasn’t anybody around to see her.

  “We’ll get through this, baby,” she murmured. Some people would think she had lost her mind, talking to a baby that hadn’t even been born yet, but she couldn’t help it. She almost felt a stronger kinship with this child than she did her own sisters. Hannah and Leah had been through their own trials, but not the same as Tillie’s. This was something she and her baby were going through together. And even though the child wasn’t born and didn’t know, one day she would. Or he. Though Tillie was secretly beginning to think that the baby was a girl. And that made it all the more important for her to be among the Amish. The English world was just too rough on girls. Everything seemed to be a struggle and a fight. She knew people who thought the Amish way of life was confining. But she considered it to be delineated. She thought that was the right word. Maybe outlined. She knew what she was supposed to do, where she was supposed to be. She knew how she was supposed to act, she knew what she was supposed to wear. She knew what her job was. Always. She should be a wife and a mother, and there was no need to be anything more. What was so wrong with that?

  Nothing, as far as she could see.

  She rubbed her belly again, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She looked up to find blue eyes watching her. The blue eyes that belonged to Levi Yoder. He studied her for a moment. She didn’t breathe. Just stood there, chin lifted, one hand around her middle. She hated that she’d been caught acknowledging her pregnancy by a man, but it was done now.

  I’m sorry sprang to her lips, but she bit the words back. What did she have to apologize for? She had thought she was alone. Why wasn’t he inside with everyone else?

  He stared at her for what seemed to be an eternity. Then he turned and made his way in through the side door of the house.

  Tillie almost wilted on the spot. She wanted to go home, avoid any more of the embarrassment that she faced. But she knew that if she left now, her sisters would worry about her, and she loved them enough not to want to cause them unnecessary concern. It was just the look in Levi Yoder’s eyes—almost a resentment. As if he had been asking God why. Why was his baby gone when her baby was still growing? It wasn’t fair; she knew it as well as he. But how many times in the English world had she heard of this same unfairness? Of couples who would give a baby a wonderful home with two loving parents but couldn’t have one of their own while a drug addict on the street gave birth to one and left it for someone else to raise. That was one thing her time in the English world had shown her. There was nothing about life that was fair.

  Not caring if she was alone still or not, Tillie rubbed another hand across her belly.

  “It’s okay, little girl. We’ll find our way.” She wasn’t sure how, but she would make it right.

  * * *

  “Are you ready to go?” Mims asked.

  I thought you’d never ask.

  “Jah,” Levi said instead. It’d been a trying afternoon. Aside from the fact that he simply wanted to go home to peace and solitude, it had been an afternoon of celebration that he didn’t feel, talk of the weather that he was starting to get tired of, and heart-wrenching glimpses of Tillie Gingerich. />
  As he and Mims made their way to their buggy, she chatted in her typical Mims way. The color of the dresses, the desserts offered, the recipe for chicken and filling. He understood the need for tradition, but sometimes it could be a little overdone. Having the same food at every wedding only led to talk of recipes and who took whose and other rivalries that sprang up when people lived so closely together. But all he could think about was Tillie. He must’ve seen her a dozen times. Alone, together with her sisters. He could hardly stand to look at her. The sight of her hurt his eyes. Not because she was ugly or even not beautiful. She was . . . beautiful. She seemed hesitant and confident at the same time, unsure and yet determined. It was like a magnet drawing him in, but he could hardly stand it when his gaze fell upon her.

  For even as much as she drew him in, she scared him. She was the embodiment of everything he had lost. And each glimpse of her reminded him of that loss. Of the things he’d once had, then an unmerciful God took away. A God he was struggling with daily. He hated those thoughts. He didn’t want them. Day by day he was losing his faith, inch by slow inch, and he couldn’t seem to stop. Even though he was trying, and he was praying.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Mims asked.

  Levi swung up into the carriage next to his sister. He took up the reins before answering. “Jah. Blue dresses. Chicken and filling.”

  Mims harrumphed.

  He knew what she was thinking. He would have to live again eventually. Eventually, but maybe just not right now. Right now, he was struggling. He was praying. Even when he wasn’t sure he could believe, he still prayed. Then his mind started to wander and he lost his focus. The thing that bothered him the most was once that happened his mind was filled with Tillie Gingerich. And that wasn’t helping at all.

  Chapter Ten

  “And you do this every Wednesday?” Tillie looked around her mother’s dining room. The table itself was covered with mixing bowls, little brown bottles of essential oils, and plastic bottles waiting for product. The sideboard had stacks of labels that Leah had printed out on her computer.

  “Tuesday,” Gracie corrected with a smile.

  “Right,” Leah said. “It’s only Wednesday this week because we went to the wedding yesterday.”

  “So yes,” Hannah said. “We do this every week.”

  Tillie couldn’t believe the number of lotion bottles, cakes of soaps, and other skin care products her sisters and cousin created each week. It was a booming business.

  “I still think we need a few more of the Christmas scents,” Leah said. She picked up two of the small bottles of oil and examined them. “Especially cranberry vanilla and honey cinnamon. People will use those even after Christmas.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Hannah said. “But we still have to get the rest of these orders filled before we can make bottles to just put up for sale.”

  When they held cousins’ day, Gracie’s children went over to play with Anna and Jim’s for the afternoon. Baby Grace, who had become accustomed to more people since having Gracie in her life, went to stay with Mammi Glick in the dawdihaus. Brandon took care of the shop in town, allowing Leah to have a day off, and Hannah’s kids were in school. The only limitation was that she needed to be home soon after them in order to make sure Essie and Laura Kate didn’t somehow start a revolution.

  “Just tell me what I need to do,” Tillie said. “I want to help, but I’m a little lost.” And she couldn’t help thinking she wouldn’t have been lost had she been here the whole time. Had she never left. She had talked over the idea of leaving the Amish with her sisters, and they had told her that it was a lot harder than most thought and that she would do well to stay right where she was.

  What was that saying? Hindsight is twenty-twenty. She supposed it was, but to want to go back to before that time would mean she wouldn’t have the baby she carried. She wasn’t sure she would be okay with that. It might be that the pregnancy was causing her a great deal of grief at the present time, but she would not and could not call her baby a mistake. She would much rather think of it as a miracle. Maybe not a Christmas miracle. But still a miracle. Though it might be a miracle if she got through this without completely losing her mind.

  “We sort of do an assembly line. So if you’ll get down on the end and make sure the labels go on the right product and look nice, that would be a great help,” Hannah said.

  To Tillie it seemed like the least important job of all, but if they did indeed have as many orders as they talked about, she supposed they didn’t have time to teach her all about the business.

  And what would be the point if she was going to leave again anyway?

  She wanted to stay past Christmas and on into the future, but she wasn’t kidding herself. She knew that it would be hard. Leaving and coming back was one of those things that left a blemish. And unfortunately, she couldn’t pretend like it never happened.

  “I was surprised to see him there,” Gracie said, picking up their earlier conversation about Levi Yoder. “But I suppose Mims can be a little . . .”

  “Bossy?” Leah supplied.

  “Forceful,” Hannah said with a sharp look at her sister. “Mims is forceful and is somewhat accustomed to getting her way.” Though nobody knew exactly how that came about.

  “I just felt bad for him,” Hannah said. “He looked like he would have rather been anyplace else.”

  “Well, John David is his cousin,” Leah said.

  “I know,” Hannah replied.

  He had been as obliged to go to the wedding as she had, Tillie thought. Why did they do that to themselves? It certainly wasn’t for the bride and groom. That much Tillie knew for certain. There were enough people at the wedding that neither she nor Levi would have been missed had they not attended. The people who knew they were both there would be the other people, other guests, attending the wedding. They would know if someone was missing and needed to be there. So that was the reason people like Tillie and Levi subjected themselves to the torture of the niceties dictated by their community.

  It wouldn’t do any good to say that it wasn’t fair. It was simply the way it was.

  “I heard you and Mamm went over to his house Monday and put up Christmas decorations for him.” Leah’s words took Tillie completely off guard.

  “I . . . Jah, I mean, not . . .”

  “We’ll take that as a yes,” Hannah said.

  “We were just trying to bring him a little joy,” Tillie explained. But even to her own ears it sounded weak. Lame, Brandon would say. It sounded like an excuse just to go over to his house. And all because his name popped up on her lips at the most inconvenient time.

  “Whew!” Leah waved a hand in front of her face. “And this is why we usually do this outside,” she said.

  “Even in the winter?” Tillie asked.

  “This is the first winter that we’ve had this many orders, thanks to somebody’s website,” Gracie said.

  “We needed a website,” Leah returned.

  “Who knew it was going to take off like this?” Hannah shrugged. “So we hadn’t planned on making this much lotion. Now we know to start earlier next year.”

  “And crack a window,” Gracie said.

  Leah rose to her feet and made her way across the room to the window at the front of the house.

  “It’s really gotten cold out there.” Hannah rubbed her arms as the first gust of wind swept through the room.

  “It’s either cold or overwhelming smells,” Leah said.

  Hannah laughed. “I’m sure Mamm’s got a sweater I can borrow.” She stood.

  “Get one for me too,” Tillie called.

  “Make that three,” Gracie added.

  Hannah stopped at the door and looked back to Leah.

  Her twin shrugged. “It’s unanimous.”

  “Check,” Hannah said and disappeared down the hallway. She returned a few moments later with a sweater for each of them.

  “It’s supposed to get bad tomorrow or th
e next day,” Hannah said. “I heard Aaron talking about it.”

  Leah passed a stack of labels to Tillie and nodded. “I’m not sure how bad it’s really supposed to get, but they have everybody worried. I went to the store this morning—no bread, no milk. I’ve got a growing boy at home who is not happy if he can’t have a peanut butter sandwich for lunch.”

  “Don’t they get a shipment in on Thursdays?” Gracie asked.

  “Gracie Glick, you’re the only person I know who would keep up with such a thing.” Hannah laughed and shot her cousin a sweet smile. She meant no disrespect or harm.

  “Everyone knows that. Besides, I’ve got four growing boys at home. I have to keep up with that sort of thing. Especially since Henry has taken a liking to cheese crackers. He thinks he has to have them every day, and if he runs out . . . Well, you know Henry.”

  Tillie didn’t know Henry as well as Leah and Hannah, of course, but she had seen him a couple of times. He was what their mamm would call a stinker. But so adorably cute everyone somehow forgave him his daily transgressions. A handful, that’s what Mammi Glick would say. Henry Byler was a handful.

  “I suppose we’ll have to be there at the crack of dawn in order to get any if everybody else knows they’re getting a shipment,” Hannah said. She didn’t say as much, but she had growing kids too. They all did. In just a short time everyone around the table had gained family, husbands, life mates.

  Everyone but her.

  She pushed the thought away as Leah continued, “You think there’s going to be a white Christmas?”

  Hannah handed a bottle of vanilla-scented essential oil to Leah. “And when is the last time you remember a white Christmas in Mississippi?”

  Leah tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Sometime in the nineties?”

  “I’ll tell you when,” Hannah said with a firm nod. “Never. That’s when.”

  “Surely we’ve had one or two,” Gracie said. She stood and started mixing lotion, using the mixed scents Leah had been carefully concocting.

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” Tillie asked.