by Amy Lillard
And it did give her an idea for the shop. She should find some used Bibles to have in the store, for sale and just to look at. It would add a better ambiance to the place. And she could look up any wayward verses grouchy customers threw her way.
Honestly, what was that man’s problem? He acted downright insulted, and all she had done was offer him a few clothes to get them through. Jamie’s clothes weren’t bad. Just a little worn in all the regular places, elbows and knees. But Peter was a mess. The shirt he’d had on at her mamm’s had been a bit small. Today’s was too big. Same thing with his pants, which, on top of their varying sizes, also had holes in the knees and frayed hems. The clothes were perfectly fine for being around the house and working, but she had the means to give Peter something better. After all that he had been through, shouldn’t he have at least that much?
She found the verse as Brandon came out of his bedroom all changed and ready to go. Matthew 6:1. Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven.
“Doing a little reading?” he asked.
She shut her Bible quickly, and it snapped with the force. “Just a little. Are you all ready to go on your big date?”
“It’s not a date. Shelly and I are going to study for a chemistry exam we have next week.”
“And that’s why you shaved and put on cologne.” She rubbed a hand down his baby-smooth cheek.
He pulled away. “Aunt Leah,” he protested. “It’s aftershave.”
She waved a hand. “Same thing.”
He rolled his eyes, but these days the gesture was more playful than it had ever been before.
“Be home by ten.”
“Ten thirty?”
“Ten fifteen,” she acquiesced. “And that means leave her house at ten till. I want you here at ten fifteen. Not leaving her house.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He palmed his keys and headed for the door.
In seconds, silence had descended. How long had it been since she’d had quiet? She used to love it, back when she first moved to town, but tonight it came down like a thick fog, blanketing everything in gray.
She leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. It had been one long week. Now she needed the silence. She did. She needed time to recharge, to rest. Tomorrow was Sunday. She would rest tonight, then go to church tomorrow. That should cheer her up.
But all she could think about was Jamie Stoltzfus and the unwarranted betrayal in his eyes as he thrust the box full of clothes back into her arms.
* * *
“Wow!” Brandon leaned forward in his seat to get a better look at the throng in front of them. “There are a ton of people here.”
“Church,” she whispered. Her parents were hosting their worship service today. She had forgotten all about it when she and Brandon had left their Mennonite church in town. She should just turn around and go back to her apartment, maybe sort through some more of the estate sale boxes she had picked up in New Albany last weekend. She was hoping to find a Bible or two in those treasures.
But she had already been spotted. It wasn’t like she could hide the sound of her engine or the cloud of red dust billowing out behind her.
“Are we going to stay?” Brandon asked as she pulled her car alongside the row of buggies.
“Might as well,” she muttered.
She had left Pontotoc before she had joined the church, so technically she wasn’t shunned. Still there were a few, more conservative, members who took a step back as she walked past.
It shouldn’t have stung, but it did. She was comfortable with her decision, but to have people she had known her entire life treat her like a toxic stranger . . .
Maybe she was overly sensitive since her confrontations with Jamie Stoltzfus, but honestly, why did she care what the man thought of her?
“Leah,” her mother greeted her, clasping Leah’s hands in her own. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”
“We thought we would surprise you.” Leah gave a small shrug. She felt a little guilty that she had Brandon living with her so that Hannah could take back up with the Amish life, so she tried to bring him out every chance she got. Her shop was closed on Sundays, making it the perfect day for a nice long visit. Well, when there wasn’t church, and it wasn’t at her mamm’s house.
“It is a surprise. Get a plate and help yourself. Everyone has already eaten, but there’s plenty left.”
“Danki.” Leah motioned for Brandon to follow her, and together they made their way to the food tables.
“When I heard that the Amish have a meal after church, I thought it was a big spread.”
“Like fried chicken and green beans?”
“Baked beans would be better, but yeah, something like that.”
Leah grabbed a couple of paper plates and passed him one. “It’s about convenience and togetherness.”
“And not about eating?” Brandon asked.
“Not really. Plus, it’s Sunday, and it’s required that we do as little work as possible.”
“‘We’?” he echoed.
“I mean them.” Why was she blushing? Must be the heat. After all, it was August in the South. “Be sure to get some pretzels.” She pointed to the large plastic container of seasoned pretzels. “Those are Katie Esh’s, and she makes the best seasoned pretzels from here to Ohio.”
Brandon scooped a spoonful onto his plate next to the cheese slices and pretzels he had already dished out. “How do you know they’re hers?”
Leah smiled and pointed to the container. “She’s been bringing pretzels in that same container since before I was born.”
A strange look passed over Brandon’s face. She wasn’t sure if it was astonishment or disbelief. “If you say so.”
“I do.” She chuckled. “Change is slow around here.”
“I’ll say.” He grabbed a Dixie cup full of red gelatin and another of lemonade. “Do we sit at one of the tables?”
That she wasn’t sure about. “Probably, yeah, but . . . I’m not sure I’m comfortable doing that. Let’s go under the tree.”
“Good plan.”
Leah led the way to the large oak that sat at the edge of the yard just between the driveway and the horse corral. No one was sitting there, which surprised her. Usually the kids were all gathered around, drawing shapes in the dirt, playing games, and enjoying the shade. Not that shade was a valuable weapon against the Mississippi heat and humidity, but it helped some.
Then Leah remembered: Jim’s bird dog had had puppies, and the kids were probably in the barn with the pups.
She eased down between the tree roots, shifting a bit to get comfortable—like that was possible sitting on a hundred acorns. Funny, she had sat under this tree more times than she could count, and she didn’t remember the pain of acorns then. Ah, the oblivion of youth.
“Whoa,” Brandon said, rearing back a little as someone came around the tree. It was Peter Stoltzfus.
“Hi, Peter,” Leah said. “Do you mind if we sit with you? We thought it would be good to eat in the shade.”
He nodded, his long hair swinging from side to side, even under the band of his hat.
“Thanks.” Leah smiled. “Do you remember coming into my shop with your uncle?”
He nodded. Jamie was right. There was nothing wrong with the boy. He just didn’t speak. But he was answering her just fine. Perhaps the teacher in Ethridge had made him nervous or anxious. Or perhaps it had been too soon for him to go back to his routine. The Amish thrived off routines. It came with being a farmer. If there was no rhythm to the day, then things got overlooked, chores were skipped, and animals and crops suffered. But for people who had endured a tragedy like Peter had, sometimes a break from routine was needed before a new routine could begin.
“Do you remember Brandon?” Leah asked.
Again Peter nodded.
“Hi,” Brandon said.
Peter gave a small wave, then started picking up aco
rns and tossing them toward the closest fence post.
“Brandon is my nephew, like you are Jamie’s.”
This time Peter didn’t acknowledge her words, but that was all right. Not every statement required a response.
Leah settled back against the tree and began to eat. She hated regretting coming over today, but she did. There was too much territory between the people in the community who understood and the people who wished she had never returned.
Okay, maybe she was being harsh, but she had seen the looks on their faces. It would take a lot more than bowing before the church and a vote by the membership to get her back in the good graces of the community. Even if she wasn’t shunned, a great many people wished that she and Hannah had simply stayed away. Coming back only served as a reminder that people left to begin with.
She sighed and set her plate to one side. A few of the churchgoers had already hitched up their buggies and started for home. Soon it would be clear enough that she could sit on the front porch and visit with her mamm or Hannah. Until then, she was staying right where she was.
A tiny hand landed on her shoulder, and before she could fully register the fact, a small body came around the tree and settled in her lap. Peter snuggled into position as if he had been sitting on her his entire life.
“Uh . . .” Leah looked to Brandon, who shrugged. She lifted an awkward hand and removed his hat, setting it to one side. Then she ran a hand down his silky hair.
Peter rested his head against her and released a sigh so heavy and long, Leah wondered if he’d been holding it in half his young life. Or maybe just since he lost his parents.
She relaxed and continued to stroke his hair, murmuring inconsequential words as he let out another shuddering sigh.
Why it felt so right, she wasn’t sure. But she knew that she was supposed to be there, in that moment, with him. And whatever else happened, happened.
She rested her head against the tree and closed her eyes. The rest of the world fell away. She would probably never have children of her own. It was a privilege that she had given up a long time ago. But for now, in this moment, this would do.
“What are you doing?”
Chapter Three
Leah jerked out of her near-trancelike state. The sound of the booming voice had her nearly jumping out of her skin. She jerked, and Peter did the same.
Then, as if he had only now become aware of what he had been doing, he pushed himself to his feet and hurried toward Jamie, his limp even more pronounced as he tried to run.
“He was behind the tree when we sat down,” Leah said by way of explanation. Though her words explained nothing. How could she adequately explain when she had no reasoning herself?
Jamie’s jaw hardened, and he lifted his chin a fraction of an inch. The look was almost appreciative, and yet she glimpsed a flash of envy before he grabbed Peter’s hand and whirled away.
“What was that all about?” Brandon pushed himself up a bit straighter and stared after Jamie and Peter.
“I’m not sure. He doesn’t want me around him, I guess.” Surely she had only imagined the gratitude and jealousy in his glare. She had a feeling Jamie wasn’t grateful to anyone but God. And even that she wondered about.
“The whole thing,” Brandon said, waving a hand in front of him. “He sat in your lap.”
Leah shrugged. “He needed a connection.”
“He wanted a mommy.”
Leah blew out a derisive sound. “No way.” But for a moment there, it had felt like a mother-son relationship. She could only imagine that was how her sister felt when she sat on the couch next to Brandon or across from him at a restaurant.
“Yes way.” Brandon pushed to his feet and retrieved her plate as well as his own. “That kid is in the market for a mommy, and you’re the number one candidate.”
* * *
Leah ignored Brandon’s words as she helped with the cleanup. One after another, the plates and bowls were gathered up and deposited in the trash. In fact, she pushed the thoughts completely from her mind until she was sitting on the porch swing, waiting for her twin to join her. But it wasn’t just Hannah who came out onto the porch; she was followed close behind by Tillie and Gracie.
“Whew.” Tillie fanned herself. “I’m glad that’s over. I mean, I enjoy hosting church and all, but it is a lot of work.”
“It’s a blessing,” Gracie reminded her.
Tillie nodded. “I know. I know.”
“It is a lot of work though,” Gracie agreed.
Hannah nodded. “I had forgotten how much.”
It took months to ready for a church service. Everything was cleaned. Baseboards, cabinets, under everything, and over everything.
“The good news is when you’re done, your house is really clean.”
“Until the next time,” Tillie said.
Everyone laughed.
“You should have come out for the service, Leah,” Gracie said. “You would have enjoyed it.”
“Actually, I forgot Mamm and Dat were hosting today.”
“That’s because you weren’t on your hands and knees scrubbing baseboards,” Tillie said.
“You’re right about that.” But she had been doing other things—getting her store ready, taking care of Brandon. So he was practically grown and a good kid despite everything he had been through. It wasn’t like he needed a great deal of watching after.
As if reading her thoughts, Hannah spoke. “Thank you for bringing him out today. I know you’ve been really busy with the store.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Tillie said. “How is the store?”
“Doing good,” Leah said. “Where is Brandon?”
Hannah pointed to the barn. The first melodies of a song floated to them on the breeze. “At the singing.”
“I hope that goes okay,” Gracie said. “Not like last time.”
Earlier in the year, just after Brandon and Hannah had arrived in Pontotoc, he had gone to a volleyball game with Joshua. A boy had gotten upset because he thought the Englischer was flirting with his sister. The boy was something of a hothead, and a fight nearly broke out.
“I think the kids have decided where Brandon fits into everything.”
“That’s a miracle,” Tillie said. “I didn’t even know Brandon had it figured out.”
Hannah shook her head. “Just that he’s Englisch, but his parents are Amish, and he’ll be hanging around. That’s about it.”
“That’s complicated enough for me,” Tillie said.
“What about you, Leah? Where do you fit in?” Gracie asked.
Leah pulled her gaze away from the barn and settled it on her cousin. “I don’t. I’m Mennonite now.”
“I guess it would be hard to give up electricity and your store . . .” Gracie mused.
“I don’t know. You think the bishop wouldn’t let her have her store?” Tillie asked.
Hannah shrugged. “It is in town.”
Leah jumped to her feet. “Why do you think I would want to be Amish again?” She hadn’t meant for her voice to sound quite so angry or loud. But even the singing in the barn stopped. “I mean . . . I don’t know what I mean.” She collapsed back into the swing.
“Touchy subject?” Gracie asked.
“Yeah, it’s just . . .” It was just what? That she felt a little guilty that her sister had come back, while she was still out of the Amish church? Or maybe she was angry with the fact that if it hadn’t been for Hannah, Leah herself would have never left. By now she would be married to Benuel King and have a passel of kids. Or maybe she was simply overtired from a stressful and busy opening. “It’s been a long week.”
“I’m sure.” Gracie grabbed one of her hands in true Gracie style and squeezed her fingers reassuringly.
Leah smiled in response, but the image still remained: her happily married; a bunch of children. It was something she had dreamed of her entire life. Then things had changed.
She mentally shook away the thoughts. She loved her l
ife. She had a great shop that was showing even greater promise. She had a roof over her head and food in her fridge. Well, maybe not in her fridge, but she wasn’t hungry, and that was a lot more than she could say for some people. She should be grateful. She was grateful, but she was adding her thanks to her prayers that night. She needed God’s help keeping everything in perspective.
Gracie released her hand and headed for the porch steps. “Eunice wanted me to check on the kids.”
Hannah gave Leah’s knee a quick pat. “I’ve got to go read to Mammi for a while.”
Leah smiled at her sister. Hannah rose and made her way back into the house, and just like that, Leah was left alone with Tillie.
Her sister came closer and waited for Leah to stop rocking with her heels before she sat. Across the yard, Gracie let herself into the barn.
“How did you know?” Tillie asked in the setting sun.
Leah frowned. “How did I know what?”
“That you wanted to leave.”
“Wanted to le—you’re not still thinking about—” She shook her head. “Tillie, no.”
“I’m just asking.” But she turned her attention to her lap and proceeded to twist her fingers in the fabric of her apron.
“But you wouldn’t be asking if you weren’t considering it.”
“You and Hannah.” She pushed to her feet and went to stand by the porch railing. She folded her arms across her middle and looked out over the dusty yard that separated her mamm and dat’s house from Jim and Anna’s. “It’s all well and good for you two to leave, but I can’t even think about it.”
“Come sit down.” Leah stopped the swing once more.
Tillie dropped her arms and shuffled back over.
“It’s so hard to leave,” Leah said. “Harder than I can ever tell you. Harder than you will ever know.”
“But it can be done.”
“Of course it can. The question is, why would you want to?”
“I have my reasons.” She lifted her chin and stared out over the yard once more.
“Which means they aren’t your reasons at all.”
“Please.” Tillie’s tone was more than melancholy. “Leave Melvin out of this.”