by Amy Clipston
“As usual, you win.” He kissed her forehead. “But you tell me if the pain gets worse and more frequent. If you start to feel bad, we will go home, Mrs. McDonough.”
She snuggled up next to him and placed her head on his muscular chest. “Yes, Mr. McDonough.” Closing her eyes, she sighed. “Good night, Kellan.”
He encircled her with his arms. “Good night, Annie.”
CHAPTER 10
Kathryn stepped into her mother-in-law’s kitchen the following morning. The sound of her children’s voices filled the room as they ran through the kitchen playing tag and laughing. Mary Rose stood by the stove, pulling out pots and pans.
Kathryn took a deep breath and hoped her plan would go well for lunch. Anna Mae and Kellan would arrive at noon as surprise guests.
Kathryn kissed Mary Rose’s cheek. “Can you believe it’s Christmas Eve already? Where did the year go?”
“Ya,” Mary Rose muttered, frowning. “The year has flown by.”
Kathryn’s heart filled with sadness. “Was iss letz?” she asked even though she already knew the answer. “It’s about Anna Mae, isn’t it?” she whispered.
Mary Rose glanced around the kitchen and moved closer to Kathryn. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Henry and I had words and I slept on the sofa. He’s still not speaking to me.”
Dread filled Kathryn’s gut. She’d prayed over and over last night and this morning that this dinner would go well and the family could finally begin to heal.
“Let’s sit and talk.” Kathryn took Mary Rose’s hand and led her to the table. “I was worried after you left so abruptly.”
Mary Rose sighed. “I was so excited to see Anna Mae. Having her back was an answer to my prayers, and seeing her pregnant was even more wunderbaar.” She scowled. “I never expected Henry to be so harsh. I expected him to be upset, but for him to drag me away from her was too much. I was so angry and disappointed last night. We both said some terrible things to each other. I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him, so I went downstairs and read my Bible for a while. Then I fell asleep on the sofa. This morning he barely said a word to me. I know he’s upset, but I am too. I’m not going to act like nothing happened.”
“I’m so sorry, Mamm.” Kathryn shook her head. “I never meant for Anna Mae’s visit to cause so many problems.”
Mary Rose’s expression became curious. “I keep thinking about the conversation we had in the bakery that day when I told you about how much I missed Anna Mae. It seems too coincidental that she came for Grischtdaag after we talked. Did you have something to do with Anna Mae’s visit?”
Kathryn studied Mary Rose’s hopeful eyes. She knew that the best answer would be the truth, but she hoped it wouldn’t upset Mary Rose even more. “If I told you that I did, would you be angry with me?”
“No, no!” Mary Rose shook her head with emphasis. “I would thank you. You helped answer my prayers.”
“But is her visit more of a burden than a blessing?” Kathryn touched Mary Rose’s hands.
“Oh, of course it is a blessing, Kathryn. You brought my dochder back into my life after three long years,” Mary Rose said. “No, it didn’t cause problems; it just brought to light what I already knew: that I have accepted Anna Mae’s decision to leave, and Henry has not. This is something he and I may never agree upon.” She tilted her head in question. “Tell me, how did the visit come about? Did you contact Anna Mae after you spoke with me?”
Kathryn shook her head. “No, actually, Anna Mae had contacted me before you and I spoke. She wrote me a letter about a month ago and asked if she could visit. I offered to help her coordinate the details, but I worried that it might not be a good idea because of how Henry could react. I prayed about it and asked God to lead me and use me as He saw fit. What you told me was the sign from God I needed to help Anna Mae plan out the details.”
“Did David know?” Mary Rose asked.
Nodding, Kathryn grimaced. “Ya, but he was worried that things would go badly. I planned it all behind his back. He was upset when he found out I went on with the plans without his blessing. He and I don’t see eye-to-eye about it, but we’ll get past it.”
Mary Rose’s eyes filled with tears. “Tell me, has Anna Mae left to go home?”
Kathryn shook her head. She looked around the kitchen, and finding it empty, she leaned closer to Mary Rose and lowered her voice. “She’s still here, and she and Kellan plan to join us for our Christmas Eve meal. However, it’s a secret, and I don’t think we should share it with Daed.”
“I won’t tell Henry.” Mary Rose’s eyes filled with excitement as tears trickled down her cheeks. “I’m so thankful that she didn’t go home. Last night I prayed that I would see her again. I need more time to visit with her. A few hours weren’t nearly enough. I’ve missed her so much.”
“I know you have.” Kathryn squeezed her hands. “And she wants more time with you. She was so disappointed when you left.”
“I don’t understand Henry.” Grabbing a napkin, Mary Rose swiped her eyes and nose. “He told me that Anna Mae hurt us all when she left. I would bet she broke his heart, but he hasn’t admitted it aloud yet. He needs to heal, not hold onto this anger he’s been harboring for the past few years.”
Kathryn nodded. “You’re right.”
“Last night I read my Bible and came across a verse that really spoke to me,” Mary Rose continued. “It said: ‘Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.’ I’m trying to be patient with him, but it’s hard.”
Kathryn gave a sad smile. “I truly believe God won’t give up on Henry. He’ll see us through this, and our family will be reunited.”
“I hope so.” Mary Rose sighed.
Kathryn stood. “We’d better start dinner before we run out of time.”
“Danki.” Mary Rose pulled her into a hug. “You’re a wunderbaar dochder and a wunderbaar fraa to my David.”
“You know I’d do anything for our family,” Kathryn said. She stepped over to the counter and grabbed the cookbook. Flipping through the pages, she sent up a silent prayer that dinner would go better today than it had last night.
Anna Mae rubbed her abdomen while Kellan steered the SUV through the winding streets in the blowing snow. The street was a solid sheet of white, lined with trees donned with white powder, reminding her of garland. Her stomach somersaulted as the vehicle approached her parents’ house. The whitewashed clapboard house stood like an apparition in the blowing snow. The roof was pure white, as were the lawn and walkway.
“I guess this is it,” she whispered. “Whatever happens after we walk through that front door will affect my relationship with my parents forever.”
Kellan squeezed her hand as the SUV bounced along the long gravel driveway toward the house. “Yes, it will, but that doesn’t mean it will have a negative effect.”
After parking the SUV next to the barn, he turned and faced her. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers. “Let’s go in there and wish them a Merry Christmas. I’ll get the gifts from the trunk.” He took the keys from the ignition and climbed from the vehicle.
Anna Mae unfastened her seatbelt and turned toward the door. As she leaned forward to exit the vehicle, a sharp pain radiated through her abdomen and stole her breath. She sucked in short, shallow breaths while gripping the door handle in vain as more fire shot from her lower back through her abdomen.
“Annie!” Kellan rushed around the SUV and pulled the door open, and she let her hands drop into her lap. He cupped her face in his hands, alarm glowing in his eyes. “Should I call nine-one-one?” He fished his cell phone from his pocket.
The pain deadened, and she took a ragged breath. “I think I’m okay.”
He narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “I don’t get that impression from the expression on your face.”
She attempted to stand, and the pain flared. “Oh.” She sat back in the seat, and the pain
moved through her back. She ran her fingers up and down her lower back, which felt like it had been kicked by steel-toed boots. “Maybe I should wait a minute.”
“Anna Mae!” a familiar voice called. “Are you going to come in or sit in the car all afternoon while the snow gets worse?”
Anna Mae glanced over at Kathryn hurrying through the snow with a cloak over her purple frock.
“She’s having some pain,” Kellan said. “I’m concerned she may be going into labor.”
“What?” Kathryn’s eyes rounded with excitement. “You’re in labor?” She took Anna Mae’s arm. “Let’s get you inside.”
Anna Mae swatted her hand away. “No, no. I’m not in labor. I just have some pangs now and then, but nothing regular.” She lifted herself from the seat. “Just give me a minute and I can get into the house without any help.”
Kellan shook his head. “Don’t believe her. She’s downplaying the pain I just witnessed. She looked like she was going to pass out from it.”
Anna Mae shot Kellan the best serious expression she could conjure despite the dull pain in her abdomen. “I’m fine. Please get the gifts from the trunk and we’ll head inside.” She took Kathryn’s extended arm and they started toward the back door. “I just need to rest when we get inside. I’m sure it’s just the excitement of seeing everyone again.” She bit her bottom lip. “Do my parents know we’re here for lunch?”
“I told your mother.” Kathryn smiled. She pulled a kerchief from her pocket. “Here. You’d better put this on so that you don’t upset your dat.”
“Good idea.” Anna Mae arranged the kerchief on her head and tied it under her chin.
Kathryn smiled and hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Danki.” Anna Mae held her and sniffed back threatening tears. “I am too.”
“Ready?” Kathryn asked with a smile.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Anna Mae glanced back at Kellan. “Shall we go in?”
Holding the shopping bags, he gave a smile. “Absolutely.”
Taking a deep breath, Anna Mae followed Kathryn into her parents’ home. A rush of memories overcame her as she crossed the threshold. Family gatherings, birthdays, childhood memories flooded her mind and filled her heart with a mixture of happiness and longing for her childhood. She scanned the family room and it looked just as she remembered — an old sofa sat at one wall along with a few arm chairs, end tables, and a coffee table. Keeping with Amish tradition, the Christmas decorations included poinsettias on the mantel over a crackling fire along with a few decorative candles.
Kathryn took Anna Mae’s hand and led her to an easy chair, where Anna Mae sat. Kellan sank down in a chair beside her and helped her hand out the candies and little toys she’d brought for her nieces and nephews, who rushed over to greet them.
Anna Mae was talking with Ruthie and Lizzie when she felt eyes studying her. Glancing up, she found her mother, tears spilling from her eyes, standing in the doorway to the kitchen watching her. Her father stood behind her, his eyes cold and his mouth creased in a deep frown. He gave her a hard stare and then disappeared back into the kitchen.
Anna Mae started to stand, but the ache in her back caused her to sink back into the chair.
“Don’t get up,” Mary Rose said. “I’ll come to you.” She held her hands out, and Anna Mae took them. “I’m so glad you’re here, Dochder.”
“Me too.” Anna Mae smiled.
“Join us for Christmas Eve dinner, Anna Mae,” Mary Rose said. She helped Anna Mae to her feet and steered her toward the kitchen with Kathryn in tow.
Stepping into the kitchen Anna Mae found her father sitting at the table next to David. When he met her gaze, he still frowned and looked away, causing her stomach to plummet. She turned to Kathryn, who gave a dismissive gesture as if reading her mind.
“Sit here,” Kathryn said, pointing to a small table next to the larger table in the center of the room. “I’ll sit with you.”
“I will too,” Mary Rose said.
Anna Mae’s eyes widened with shock. “You’ll sit with me?”
“Of course I will.” Mary Rose’s voice was confident. “You’re my dochder.” She patted the chair. “Have a seat, mei liewe, and Kathryn, the girls, and I will serve the meal.”
“Danki.” Anna Mae sank into a chair with Kellan beside her. She glanced over at her father and found him still glowering. He shot her mother a glare, but her mother continued helping Kathryn, Amanda, Ruthie, and Lizzie serve the traditional Amish Christmas meal, including chicken with stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, succotash, applesauce, buttered noodles, macaroni and cheese, salad, and pickles.
The delicious smells brought back happy Christmas memories and also caused Anna Mae’s mouth to water.
Kellan took her hand and leaned close. “Have you had any more pain?” he whispered.
“No, not really,” Anna Mae replied. She’d had some, but she didn’t want to mention it to Kellan now. He’d just worry. And she longed to soak up the presence of her family, especially her mother.
During lunch, Kathryn, Amanda, and Mary Rose joined Anna Mae and Kellan, while the rest of David’s family and Anna Mae’s father sat at the kitchen table.
Anna Mae chatted during the meal, sharing stories of her life in Baltimore and enjoying the stories that Mary Rose, Kathryn, and Amanda told. She frequently looked over at her father, who would scowl and look away. David gave uncomfortable glances toward Anna Mae’s table and looked as if he were straining to make conversation with his father, who wasn’t responding much at all. However, Anna Mae tried in vain to smile and ignore the ache seeping through her lower back.
After they finished the meal, Mary Rose, Kathryn, and the girls cleared the dishes.
“For dessert we have fruit cake, shoo-fly pie, and butterscotch pudding,” Kathryn said as she filled the sink with soapy water. “I thought we’d save them for later on since we enjoyed such a big meal.”
“That sounds gut,” Mary Rose said, gathering the dirty glasses.
While the boys and David left the table, Anna Mae sat with Kellan and watched her father exit the kitchen. The sight of his leaving without speaking to her sent anger and regret tangling within her belly.
The silence between her and her father was nearly as painful as the aching in her lower back. She had to make things right. She couldn’t let her father treat her this way. Life was too short, and her child had a right to know his or her grandparents.
Now was the time to make things right with her father.
She hoisted herself from the chair and sucked in a breath when pain sliced through her abdomen.
“Annie?” Kellan rose and took her hand in his.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, starting for the door.
He followed her. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t take it anymore. I have to go talk to him.” She passed David and the boys and started toward the back door, where she’d seen her father head. She assumed he had retreated to the barn, his favorite place to read his Bible and think. David opened his mouth to speak to her, but Anna Mae continued past him.
“What good will it do?” Kellan asked.
When she didn’t respond, he took her arm and gently turned her toward him. “Annie, please answer me. I’m worried about you. You look really upset. Won’t talking to your father just make it worse?”
Her voice trembled. “I can’t stand the way he’s ignoring me.” She absently rubbed her back where the pain sizzled. “I need to work this out with him. I have to do it before we go home. If I don’t, then I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, Kellan.” She touched his cheek. “Don’t you understand that? He’s my dad, the only dad I’ll ever have, and the only living grandfather our child will have.”
Frowning, Kellan sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
“Okay, then we’ll make a deal. I’ll give you five minutes with him.�
� He snatched her cloak from the peg on the wall by the door and draped it over her shoulders. “If you’re not back in five, then I’m coming to get you. Understand?”
She nodded, hugging her cloak to her body. “Thank you.”
She gripped the doorknob and trekked out into the blowing snow, stumbling twice on her way to barn. The large, fluffy flakes drenched her cloak and clung to her shawl.
Wrenching open the barn door, Anna Mae trudged into the barn, passing the horse stalls on her way to her father’s workshop. The aroma of animals and leather seeped into her senses.
She spotted her father in the corner, sitting on a bench and reading the Bible. She stood in the doorway and studied him for a moment, her body trembling as the pain in her lower back increased anew. She leaned against the door frame and took a deep breath.
“Daed,” she began, her voice small like a little girl. “Daed,” she repeated with more force.
He looked up at her and his eyes narrowed before cutting back to the Bible.
“Daed, I have something I need to say.” She kneaded her lower back with her fingers, hoping to curb some of the discomfort.
He continued reading without acknowledging her. She shivered, absently wondering if the cold was from the temperature of the air in the barn or from his treatment of her.
“Kellan and I came all this way to spend Grischtdaag with you, Mamm, and everyone else because we want to be a part of the family,” she said. “While I made my choice to build a life with Kellan, I never chose to lose you. I’m still a Beiler by birth, and my child is also a Beiler. You can punish me for not staying Amish, but it’s unfair to punish my innocent boppli.”
Her body continued to shake, and the pain from her lower back slithered to her abdomen. She gripped the door frame for balance and took a deep breath.
Her father kept his eyes trained on the Bible.
“Are you going to even look at me?” she asked, her voice small and quiet, squelched by the pain moving down her legs. “I’m a person. I deserve a response.”
He met her gaze and scowled. “You’ve said your piece. Now you may leave.”