“Her mind?” Marian started, unsure how to even continue.
“She’ll be all right. It will take some time. It always does. But then things will even out and she’ll be fine.”
“But she seems not right in the head.” Marian swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I think she needs help.”
“Impossible,” Barb said. “She’s a stubborn one, is your mamm. I told you the secret, may the Lord God forgive me. I can’t be telling anyone else.”
She got up then and Marian could see by the set of her mouth the conversation was over, but she kept on.
“I could talk to the bishop. He could pray for her.”
Barb’s face grew stern. “I told you because you need to know … she’s your mamm and you can be of help to her. But don’t you go telling the bishop. I didn’t break confidence so you could spread it around.”
“But, Aenti, what if she does need help?”
“What are you saying, girl? Are you saying she won’t get better? She only needs you and she needs prayer and the Good Lord’s gentle care.” Barb picked up a dishtowel and rubbed it hard over the counter. Then she turned to her niece. “Ach, I’m sorry. It’s hurt me, too, but that doesn’t give me cause to be harsh with you.”
She stepped close and rested her hand on Marian’s shoulder. “Go on home now. Go on home and see to your mama. She’ll be all right. She always is.”
Marian nodded. Tears flooded her eyes, but she wiped her hand across them hastily to keep them from blinding her. “Thank you for telling me,” she whispered.
She stood and walked from the kitchen, through the wash room, and out the side door into the growing darkness of the trees lining the way to the road.
“Marian! Are you there?” Alfred called from the front yard. “Can you play now?”
“Jah, Marian! Play with us!” Patty cried.
Marian waved at them and kept walking, her heart in her throat, and the tears now falling freely down her cheeks.
****
Partway home, Marian stopped and leaned against an elm tree, her thoughts still spinning with her new knowledge. Mamm had four miscarriages? Four little bopplis who didn’t make it into the world? It was inconceivable. And Marian hadn’t know about any of them? Not even the last one?
And what was Dat thinking? Why wouldn’t he tell her? Did he have so little confidence in her?
And during it all, she had been enjoying her running around time.
She rested her head against the rough bark and felt it catch at her kapp. She reached up to unsnag herself. She was finished with rumspringa then. Mamm needed her. Izzie needed her. To think that she was at the library, and on the Internet no less, when Mamm was suffering.
She closed her eyes and prayed for her mamm and for forgiveness for her own blind eyes. She prayed for her four little siblings who had never drawn a breath. She prayed for Dat and how he must have hurt.
“Marian?”
Marian’s eyes flew open, and she stared directly at Thomas Groft.
“Are you okay?”
Seeing him there, feeling his deep concern, Marian had a sudden urge to bury herself in his arms. To let him speak comfort to her. To let him make it all better.
Shocked by her reaction to him, Marian sniffed and quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m fine,” she muttered. “Fine.”
“You’re crying.”
“It’s nothing. I’m okay.”
His kind eyes searched hers. “You’re sure?”
She gave him a tremulous smile and stepped away from the tree. “I’m certain.” She looked around and saw he was alone. “What brings you out this evening?”
He bent down to pick up a rock. “I often walk in the evenings. Find it peaceful.” He tossed the rock across the road. “It’s my time for thinking.”
Marian studied his face. “Time for thinking?”
He cheeks reddened, and he cleared his throat. “Can I walk you home?”
“It’s not far.”
“I know. But still…”
She nodded. “All right, if you like.”
They fell into step, both of them quiet. Marian appreciated his presence and his lack of talk. She shivered as her mind still tried to come to grips with her mamm’s loss. Even with Aenti Barb’s assurances, she worried that there was more to Mamm’s distress than would simply be gone with few weeks of time. Perhaps she should find out on her own about it. But how? Aenti had told her not to tell the bishop.
But what about Old Mae? She knew all about sickness. She’d have some herbal remedy that might help Mamm. She wondered why Mamm hadn’t gone to Mae in the first place.
Thomas stopped walking. She looked at him, puzzled.
“We’re here,” he said.
She blinked, realizing they were standing at the beginning of her drive.
He raised his hand as if to touch her, then dropped it to his side. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Jah.” She blew out her breath. “Just a bit preoccupied.”
“Are you going to the work frolic on Saturday?”
“If Mamm goes, I’ll go,” she said.
He was silent then, watching her. She wanted to see more deeply into his eyes; she wanted to know what he was thinking, but in the growing darkness and with the brim of his hat so low on his forehead, it was impossible.
“Marian,” he said softly.
“Jah?”
“If you ever need me, all you have to do is ask.”
Her throat filled with sudden tears, and she swallowed past the growing tightness. “Thank you, Thomas.”
And then he did touch her. He put his hand to her wrist, and she felt the firm strength in his touch. Again, she stifled an urge to lean on him and let him embrace her.
“I’ll see you Saturday, then?”
She nodded, hoping her thoughts weren’t obvious. “All right. Bye, Thomas.”
“Bye.” He touched the brim of his straw hat and was off into the growing darkness.
She stared after him, watching his strong, definite steps down the road. She knew down to her very core Thomas could be depended on. He was someone who would be there through whatever life offered.
She took a deep breath.
Dat would be pleased if she revealed interest in Thomas Groft, for Thomas would make a fine beau and a fine husband—the whole community knew that.
She walked slowly toward the front steps. Her mind was full to bursting and anxiety over her mother twisted through her thoughts. She turned and looked back the way Thomas had disappeared into the night. She closed her eyes and inhaled, letting the night air settle deeply into her lungs. Unbidden, the image of Roger’s smiling face flashed into her mind and she gave a start. Why would she be thinking of him?
Disgusted with herself, she climbed the steps and went inside the house.
Four
The next day, Marian rose early and had breakfast going before Mamm was even up. Dat had long since gone out to the barn and the fields. And since Izzie often slept till later, Marian had the lower floor all to herself.
Marian was setting the table when Mamm appeared.
“Marian? Up already? You got an early start.”
“Good morning, Mamm. Jah, everything is almost ready.”
Mamm nodded. “Gut. That’s gut.”
“Just finishing up the eggs. Dat should be in soon.”
Mamm sat in the rocker by the cook stove. “I see I’m not necessary around here.”
Marian glanced at her mother. Was she being sarcastic? She was relieved when she saw an amused smirk on Mamm’s face.
“Ach, you’re completely necessary,” Marian said. “We couldn’t possibly get on without you.”
She wondered if in her zeal to help her mother, she was laying it on a bit thick, but Mamm seemed pleased at her words for she tipped her head with a smile on her lips.
“Perhaps you can grab the milk for me,” Marian suggested. She scooped the scrambled eggs into a glass bowl and s
et a plate on top to keep them warm. She carried the covered bowl out to the table and set it before Dat’s spot.
“Morning.”
Marian turned to see her dat enter the dining area.
“Smells gut. Lydia, your eggs are always the best.” He grinned at Mamm who was carrying the milk to the table.
“They’re not my eggs,” Mamm said. “Marian cooked them.”
Dat gazed at Marian. “Fine. So you’re helping out, then?”
“I always help out,” Marian said, a bit too quickly. Why must she always react to Dat’s comments? It was unseemly.
“Marian is going to the library again today.” Mamm sat in her chair and reached for a slice of toast dripping with butter.
Marian’s eyes widened. “Nee. I’m not going today.”
“Jah, you are,” Mamm said. “I know how much you like it there.”
Marian stared at her mother as she took a small bite of toast and chewed it slowly. Mamm didn’t seem to notice Marian’s scrutiny but simply went on eating her breakfast.
Marian swallowed. “I’m planning to stay here to help with the chores and with Izzie.”
Mamm’s eyes flashed anger and then she lowered her lashes. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my own child. You go on. I’m sure your Englischer friend will be there waiting for you.”
Roger? How did she know about Roger? With a start, Marian realized she wasn’t referring to Roger at all. She was talking about Amy.
Marian took a sip of milk to gather herself. Now she was acting irrational, too. Assuming Mamm had meant Roger? This wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.
“I think Marian should stay home like she planned,” Dat said.
Mamm squeezed her fist tightly around her fork, her knuckles going white. “Nee,” she said, carefully enunciating the word. “I don’t want help today.”
She looked at Marian. “You go on. I don’t need the pony cart.”
Marian gave her father a helpless glance. “All right, Mamm,” she murmured.
“Right after breakfast, you can leave.”
“The library doesn’t open till later.”
“Right after breakfast, you can leave,” Mamm repeated.
“If you’d like me to go, I will,” Marian said, wondering what she could do in downtown Hollybrook at such an early hour.
****
Mamm wouldn’t let Marian help get Izzie up and dressed that morning. So shortly after eating breakfast and clearing the table, Marian went down to the barn and hitched up Frosty. The summer sun was already blazing and Marian was lightly sweating before she drove the pony cart into the library lot. She was the only one there, of course, given that the library didn’t open for another forty-five minutes.
She wished Amy was there. Or Roger. Anyone to pass the time with. She wasn’t too fond of her own thoughts lately and given free rein, she didn’t like where they led her.
But since Mamm had basically kicked her out of the house, she was determined to spend some time in the library researching her mother’s odd behavior.
She knew there were books on such things, plus she was certain she could find information on the Internet. After all, Amy had shown her how to use a search engine to find things online, and she was fairly sure she remembered how.
She secured Frosty beneath the shade of the lone tree in the lot and then stood under the same tree waiting for the library to open. She gazed at the cars passing by, wondering where everyone was going in such a hurry. Perhaps to their jobs. Or maybe to visit family members. Or to pick up necessary supplies. Three children pedaled by on bicycles, laughing and yelling at each other along the way. She grinned. She’d learned how to ride a bike years before; although, some in the community weren’t any too pleased with the contraption. But her parents weren’t opposed.
She didn’t use the bicycle much, though, preferring to take the pony cart when she had chores to do. She stepped toward Frisky and patted her warm, thick neck. “You’re my transport, aren’t you, Frisky girl?”
Frisky snorted and shook her head. Marian laughed and went back to leaning against the trunk of the tree.
The library workers arrived before the library officially opened, and Marian watched them rush through the glass doors and then bustle about inside. Since the front wall was mainly glass, it was easy to see them. She wondered what it would be like to work in a library and have all those books at her disposal every day. She would like that. No, she would love that.
But it wasn’t a possibility, so she shoved the idea from her mind.
A few more cars pulled into the lot and people climbed out and milled around the door. When the library finally opened, they filed in, Marian not far behind. She went directly to the computer area and got busy logging on.
She typed “miscarriage” into Google and was shocked to see over seventeen million choices. She fell back against her chair and stared at the screen. How in the world was she to decide which one to choose? She skimmed the first choices and saw an entry with the words “Anxiety and Depression: Loss of Sanity.” She clicked on it and began reading. As she continued through the article, she felt the weight of her mother’s pain close in on her like a heavy wool blanket. And even worse to think that her mother suffered in silence, letting no one help her.
She learned that her mamm could be suffering from clinical depression and that she could silently fear losing her own sanity. Marian paused, her heart sick. Was her mother so deeply troubled?
Fact was, Marian herself worried her mother was losing her sanity.
She read on and realized Mamm needed help. She needed to see someone in the medical profession. But her mother would never agree to see an Englisch doctor. Never.
Could her aenti convince her? Or Dat?
She’d have to convince them first.
And how could she? By telling them she read information on a computer?
They’d scold her for even paying attention to worldly wisdom.
She stared at the screen until her eyes misted over. She offered up a silent prayer for her entire family, knowing that only God could intervene and help.
Suddenly someone came up from behind and cupped two hands over her eyes. “Surprise!”
She jumped and flung herself around, breaking free.
Roger laughed, but upon seeing her face, sobered immediately. “Oh no! I scared you. Like, for real, scared you.”
Marian breathed rapidly, her hand to her chest. “Jah, you did scare me for sure and for certain.”
He grabbed a chair and pulled it close, sidling up to her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Nee, nee. It’s all right.” She was still breathing heavily, not only from surprise but because Roger was sitting so close, she could feel his breath on her face.
He touched her shoulder, and she felt her skin tingle beneath her dress. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and swallowed the lump of nerves in her throat.
“I hoped you’d be here.” His voice was low. He gave her a compelling look, increasing her already unsettled state.
“But we weren’t … we decided…” Marian was mortified that she couldn’t get out a simple sentence.
He moved even closer. “I know,” he whispered. “We already said good-bye and we weren’t going to see each other. But I can’t stop thinking about you.”
He reached up and smoothed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch sent a flame of fire across her cheek, and the feeling was so overwhelming and unfamiliar, she shivered and moved back.
His hand froze and then dropped to his lap.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Really. You must think me daft. Touching an Amish girl.”
Marian’s eyelids fluttered. She shouldn’t be there. Not with him. It was wrong. He wasn’t Amish, and he had touched her. She put her hand to her mouth and stared at him.
He scooted back, looking confused and regretful. “I’m sorry.”
“Nee. It’s all right.”
She closed her eyes for a minute and Thomas’s kind, patient face filled her mind. She envisioned his eyes that looked like the sky on a warm summer day. She saw his expression of concern over her recent tears, and she heard his pledge to help if she ever needed him.
Roger coughed, and she was jolted back to the present moment. He stood then and loomed over her, tall and handsome and Englisch. He gazed at her. “Please, Marian. Can’t we see each other?”
His question hung in the air, inviting her to a world full of new possibilities. The offer was so bewildering, she wavered. She struggled with the uncertainty that he aroused in her and felt heavy with decision. The seconds ticked by as misgivings congested her mind. She shifted in her chair, and cold reason took over.
She shook her head. “I don’t see how.”
“Can I at least still comment on your blog?”
“I don’t know if I can continue my blog,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I might not be coming to the library anymore.” And her heart died a little.
“But why not?”
“My mamm isn’t well. She needs me at home.”
Roger squatted before her and looked deeply into her eyes. “Is it because you don’t want to run into me? I can leave you alone, you know. If that’s what you really want.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “That isn’t it!” The words rushed out unbidden, and she clapped her hand over her mouth.
His eyebrows creased into a frown, and then a slow smile covered his face. “So you do like me? At least a little?”
“It doesn’t matter if I like you or not,” she said with dull finality.
“But your writing? Your blog?”
“That doesn’t matter either,” she said, her heart dying a little more.
“And Amy? Are you going to see her anymore?”
Marian shook her head. “Probably not.”
Roger gave a low whistle and stood, again towering over her. “Is your mother going to be all right?”
Marian picked at the edge of her thumbnail, scraping the skin until it hurt. “I hope so.” She nodded. “Jah, she will. Gott will see to that.”
“So this is good-bye? Again?”
Amish Romance BOOK BUNDLE: Marian's Story: Amish Romance Boxed Set (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 4