“No, I didn’t, but I’m glad you felt free to share with me.” Fannie smiled. “I think my visit might give you a ray of hope about your missing boy, too.”
“Oh, how’s that?”
Fannie snapped the newspaper open and laid it on the counter. “See here, in the classified ad section?”
Abraham stared at the part where she’d placed her finger, and he read each word out loud. “To the Amish Boy’s Family ... This is to notify the family of the Amish baby taken from a farm in Lancaster County in June of this year—the boy is fine. He’s healthy, happy, and well cared for.” Abraham’s knees almost buckled, and he had to grab hold of the counter to keep from toppling over. “Zach. This has to be about my missing son.”
CHAPTER 23
Abraham couldn’t believe he hadn’t been able to track down the origin of the ad in The Budget. Thanks to Fannie showing him the paper, he felt closer to finding Zach than ever before. Yet the lead took him nowhere. He and Fannie had walked down the street to use a payphone, but when he called The Budget and asked about the ad, he’d been told the person placing the notice had mailed it and paid cash. There was no return address, and the postmark had been smudged beyond recognition.
“It’s hopeless,” Abraham said to Fannie as they headed back to his store.
She shook her head. “Nothing is hopeless. All things are possible with God.”
“My friend Jacob says I should accept this tragedy and move on with my life. He thinks God will use Zach’s and Naomi’s disappearances for His good.”
“Jacob could well be right.” Fannie stopped in front of Abraham’s store. “I should go now. My driver’s quite patient, but I’ve kept her waitin’ long enough.”
“Sure wish you didn’t have to run off. How long will you be in the area?” He felt a sudden need to be with this woman in whose presence he felt remarkably relaxed.
“Edna’s birthday is tomorrow evening, and I had planned on catching the bus home the next day since it’s an off-Sunday and there won’t be any preaching.”
Disappointment flooded Abraham’s soul. “So soon? I’d kinda hoped we could see each other again. Maybe visit over a nice meal, the way we did at the picnic table out behind your shop.”
Fannie’s face lit up. “Say, I have an idea. Why don’t you bring your family and come over to Edna’s party tomorrow night? We’re gonna eat outside on picnic tables, and I’m sure there will be plenty of food, so you needn’t worry about bringing anything.”
“But I don’t even know your cousin. Wouldn’t she think it a bit odd if a bunch of strangers showed up at her party?”
Fannie shook her head. “Edna’s turning fifty this year and has planned her own party. She’s always done things differently than others and loves surprises.” Fannie chuckled. “I’m sure she’d be happy if my surprise was a few unexpected guests.”
Abraham wasn’t sure about all this, although he had to admit it did sound like fun. “That’s awful nice, but—”
Fannie held up her hand. “Now I won’t take no for an answer. I’d like to meet your family, so please say you’ll come.”
“Well, I—”
Fannie reached into her black handbag and pulled out a small notebook and pen. “I’m gonna jot down the directions to her place, and I’ll expect to see you there. It begins at six o’clock.”
Abraham took the piece of paper and said he and his family would try to make it. He didn’t know why, but for the first time in many weeks, he was actually looking forward to something. It probably wasn’t the party nearly as much as it was thinking about seeing Fannie again.
Fannie waved and headed for the English woman’s car, still parked in the graveled lot next to the Fishers’ store. “See you tomorrow night, Abraham,” she called over her shoulder.
Abraham strolled up the steps to his store, surprised at how much energy he felt. He’d been tired earlier in the day, but now he could probably clean the whole store and not feel the least bit winded. “Sure hope the rest of the family will be eager to go to Edna Yoder’s party, for I don’t want to miss another chance to spend time with Fannie.”
***
Jim had just finished lining out a job his crew would be doing tomorrow. It involved painting the trim on a three-story office building, which meant they’d have to use scaffolding. It wasn’t something he used that often, but lately he’d been getting more jobs like this one in Tacoma, so he was glad he’d recently bought the necessary equipment.
“Guess we’ve got everything pretty well ready,” he told Hank, his foreman. “Make sure the guys know to be on the job by seven tomorrow morning. I want to get an early start because Saturday’s supposed to be another warm day.”
“I’ll see to it.” Hank sauntered off as Jim’s cell phone rang.
“Scott’s Painting and Decorating,” he said into the mouthpiece.
“Jim, where are you? I thought you’d be here by now. You said you were coming home for lunch today, remember?” Linda’s tone was high-pitched and whiny.
“We worked a little later than usual this morning, and I’m just now ready to take a break,” he said patiently. “I had to get a job lined out for tomorrow.”
“You’re working on Saturday again?” He could hear the disappointment in her voice.
“It’s the only way I could fit the paint job in Tacoma into my busy schedule, and we have to take advantage of this good weather when we’re doing an outside job. Never know when it will turn rainy again.”
“I guess Jimmy and I will have to go to the park by ourselves.”
“I’ll be home soon, honey,” Jim said, making no further comment on either of their Saturday plans.
“I was wondering if you could stop by the store and pick up a couple of things on your way here,” Linda said.
“Sure, what do you need?”
“Jimmy’s cutting another tooth and could use some of that numbing gel to rub on his gums.”
“No problem.”
“Also, we’re almost out of disposable diapers.”
“Got it.”
“And could you buy a new thermometer? I believe Jimmy’s got a fever, but our old one reads normal, so I think it must be broken.”
Jim groaned. “If it says the baby’s temperature is normal, then it probably is, Linda.” She was too protective and had been since they got Jimmy. Jim thought things would settle down after a few weeks, but they’d had the boy for three months now, and still she acted paranoid about anything concerning the child. Jim had even installed one of those baby intercoms so Linda could keep tabs on Jimmy when he was sleeping. If he hadn’t, she probably would have insisted on sleeping in the baby’s room, the way she had the first night after they returned from Pennsylvania.
“Get a new thermometer anyway, just in case,” she pleaded.
“Okay. Tell my boy his daddy will be home soon, and we’ll eat our lunch together.” Jim turned off the phone.
“She’ll probably be holding our son’s hand until he’s old enough to leave home,” he mumbled as he headed for his van. Jimmy was a special kid, and Jim loved him as if he were his own, but he didn’t think it was good for Linda to smother the boy. He’ll either grow up to be a mama’s boy, or he might end up rebelling. Neither would be good. I guess I’m going to have to do something to prevent that from happening.
Jim opened the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. He had been feeling much better about taking Jimmy since he’d gotten some phony papers drawn up and tucked safely in his deposit box. Also, placing an ad in the Amish newspaper when they’d gone to Boise to see Linda’s folks had given him a sense of peace.
“Sure hope the little guy’s Amish family sees that notice. If they know he’s okay, maybe they won’t miss him so much.”
Jim rubbed his temples, feeling as though a headache might be forthcoming. “Who am I kidding? A notice in the paper wouldn’t make me feel much better if someone took my baby.”
He slipped the key into the ignition
and started the van. “I can’t admit to Linda what I’ve done or take Jimmy back to his rightful home. Linda’s become too attached to him, and so have I. Just need to put it out of my mind, that’s all. The longer he lives with us, the more it will seem like he’s always been ours.” Jim pulled out into traffic. “Besides, I took him to make my wife happy, and she is. That’s all that counts, and I’m sure Jimmy’s better off with us than he would be living among the Amish.”
***
Naomi sat on the couch in Carla Griffin’s apartment, looking through the want ads and feeling completely out of place. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure she would ever feel comfortable again. Since they’d arrived in Portland, she’d felt like a fifth wheel. Until they came here, Ginny had acted like she was her friend. Now Ginny seemed more interested in Carla than she did Naomi. The two young women had gone off to the fitness center this morning, leaving Naomi alone.
“Naomi, you need to find a job,” Ginny had said before they walked out the door. “There’s a newspaper in the living room. Why don’t you browse the want ads and see what you can find?”
Before Naomi could reply, Ginny added, “We should be back by noon, and it would be nice if you had some lunch waiting for us.”
Naomi sniffed and reached for a tissue from the little square box on the table by the couch. Despite having access to fancy clothes, TV, and modern appliances, she felt alone and misunderstood. Not only was she lonely and discontent, but as she scanned the paper, she soon discovered there didn’t seem to be any jobs she was qualified to do. Nothing except waitress work, and she wasn’t sure she would even be good at that. Waiting on customers in a crowded restaurant was not the same as serving her family back home.
She circled a couple of restaurant jobs and tore them out of the paper. Would Ginny or Carla have time to drive her there later today? Would anyone want to hire a Plain girl from Pennsylvania who knew so little about the modern way of doing things? She wondered if she could find her way around the large town of Portland. No doubt she’d have to take a bus to and from work, as she didn’t have a car or know how to drive.
Doubts mingled with her misery as she shed one tear after another. What if she couldn’t make it in the English world? What if she felt forced to return home, knowing she was the object of her father’s anger?
Naomi stood, forcing her tears to stop. “I won’t know if I can make it here until I try to get a job, so in the meantime, I’ll head for the kitchen and see what there is to eat. Might as well find something to do while they’re gone, even if I don’t appreciate Ginny’s attitude and her bein’ so bold as to ask me to have lunch ready when they get back.”
When she entered the small kitchen, Naomi went straight to the refrigerator. One side was full of canned soft drinks and a few bottles of beer. She wrinkled her nose. “Hope Ginny’s not gonna drink that awful stuff, and I won’t be tryin’ any, that’s for certain sure.”
By the time Ginny and Carla returned, Naomi had lunch ready to serve. She’d made ham and cheese sandwiches and fixed a tossed green salad. She would have liked some pickled beets, but of course, there were none. Once more, she found herself wishing for the things she’d had at home.
“How’d the job interview go?” she asked Ginny as the girls took a seat at the table.
“Great. They said I could start on Monday.”
“That’s gut. I mean, good,” Naomi replied. If she was going to live among the English and try to become one of them, she knew she’d have to quit saying Pennsylvania Dutch words. Nobody would want to hire someone who used to be Amish; she felt sure of it. She would try hard to keep that part of her life a secret and do all the things expected of her in the fancy, English world.
“Did you find anything in the paper you can apply for?” Carla asked. She combed her fingers through the ends of her shoulder-length auburn hair.
“Yeah, did you?” Ginny chimed in.
Naomi felt their scrutiny piercing her bones. She grabbed the newspaper off the table and pointed to one ad. “I believe this one’s not far from here. Maybe I’ll see about it first.”
Carla nodded. “Good idea. Everyone pulls her weight here, so you are going to need a job.”
***
When Abraham arrived home from the store that evening, he was aggravated by the sight that greeted him. Not only was supper not ready, but the girls hadn’t even started cooking. He found them both sitting at the kitchen table, drawing pictures of colored leaves.
Mary Ann looked up when he cleared his throat. “Oh, hi, Papa. Did ya have a good day?”
“It was all right ’til now,” he grumbled.
“How come? What’s wrong?” Nancy asked, never looking up from her work.
“I come home after a long day at the store and find you two sittin’ at the table drawing, and there’s no supper ready. That’s what’s wrong.”
Nancy pushed her chair away and stood. “Sorry, but we got busy and lost track of time. Is it okay if we just have cold sandwiches?”
“I guess if I don’t want to wait all night for something to eat, then sandwiches will have to do.” Abraham trudged across the room and set his lunch pail on the cupboard. “Naomi would have had supper goin’ by now, ya know. She always fixed something hot to eat for the evening meal.”
“But Naomi ain’t here,” Mary Ann said.
“Don’t get smart with me, girl! I know perfectly well where Naomi is.”
Nancy rushed to his side. “Really, Papa? Have you had word from her?”
Abraham frowned. “No, haven’t had nothin’ but that one postcard. I only meant—oh, never mind. Just get busy fixin’ us something to eat, and be quick about it!” He grabbed a glass from the closest cabinet and turned on the cold water at the sink. “Where are the brothers? Shouldn’t they be inside by now?”
“I think the older ones are still out in the fields,” Nancy said as she pulled a loaf of bread from the breadbox. “Samuel said he was gonna play in the barn awhile.”
“I see. Well, let me know when supper’s ready, and I’ll ring the dinner bell.” He gulped down the glass of water and was about to head for the living room when the back door swung open, and all four of his sons sauntered into the room.
“Is supper ready yet? I’m hungry as a bull,” Matthew announced.
“Don’t smell nothin’ cookin’,” Jake added. “That’s not a good sign.”
“Supper ain’t ready?” Norman asked with a scowl.
“I’m workin’ on it,” Nancy said sharply. “For your information, I’m making cheese sandwiches.”
“Is that all we’re havin’?” This question came from Samuel, who had a chunk of straw stuck to his hair.
Abraham reached down and plucked it out, then handed it to the boy. “Be glad for what you’re gonna get and take this back where it belongs.”
Samuel opened the door and flung the straw outside. When he stepped into the kitchen again, he wore a smug expression on his face. “We’ve got us a batch of new kittens in the barn, did ya know that, Papa?”
Mary Ann jumped up from the table. “Were they just borned?”
Samuel shook his finger. “Born, ya glotzkeppich girl. Ain’t ya learned nothin’ in school?”
Mary Ann stuck out her tongue. “I’m not blockheaded, and I’ve learned aplenty.” She pointed to the pictures still on the table. “See there, I know how to draw really good.”
Abraham’s patience was waning, and he’d had about as much as he could take. He clapped his hands together, and everyone in the room jumped, including Matthew, the oldest. “It riles me when my kinner can’t learn to get along. Samuel and Mary Ann, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”
Mary Ann hung her head, and Samuel dragged the toe of his boot across the floor. “Sorry,” they said in unison.
“That’s better. Now I have some gut news.”
All eyes focused on Abraham.
“Is it about Zach or Naomi? Has either one been found?” Matthew questioned.
“I’m afraid not, although Fannie Miller came to the store today and showed me a notice in The Budget that gave me some hope Zach might be okay.”
“Fannie Miller? Who’s she, Papa?” Jake asked.
“She’s the woman I met in Berlin, Ohio. The one who runs the quilt shop.”
“Right,” Nancy put in. “Papa told us about her after he came home.”
Abraham nodded and pulled out a chair. “Why don’t you all have a seat?”
Everyone did as he suggested, and Norman leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “What’d the notice say about Zach?”
Abraham gave his beard a couple of tugs before he answered. He wanted to be sure he worded it just the way it had been written in the paper. In his eagerness to get home, he’d left it at the store. “Let’s see now.... It said something like: ‘This is to notify the family of the Amish baby who was taken from a farm in Lancaster County in June that the boy is fine. He’s happy, healthy, and bein’ well cared for.’”
Nancy’s eyes were huge as the sugar cookies Naomi used to bake. “You think they were talkin’ about our Zach?”
He nodded soberly. “I’m nearly sure. How many other Amish babies did you hear about bein’ kidnapped from our area back in June?”
“None. Only Zach.” Matthew rubbed his chin as though deep in thought. “Is there any way we can find out who placed that notice?”
“Fannie and I called The Budget, but nobody there knows. The ad was sent in the mail and paid for with cash. There was no return address on the envelope, and the postmark was smudged.”
Jake let out a low whistle. “So near, yet so far away.”
Abraham didn’t need that reminder. He tapped his fingers along the edge of the tablecloth. “At least we know Zach’s all right and not bein’ mistreated or—” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
“Did Fannie Miller come all the way from Ohio just to tell you about that ad?” Matthew asked.
Abraham shook his head. “She’s in the area to attend her cousin’s birthday party. She just happened to get ahold of The Budget before she left home. Said after she read it, she thought of me and my missin’ boy. That’s why she dropped by the store.”
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