by Beth Wiseman
“Well . . .” She sighed as she plopped down on the bed and folded her legs underneath her. “I went to Ethan’s house today.”
“Hmm . . . I bet that was tough.”
She thought for a few moments. “Did Ethan ever mention hiding things in an empty mothball box?” Charlotte pulled the picture from her apron pocket. “It’s something we did when we were kids.”
“No, why?”
Charlotte brought the picture closer to her face, then whispered, “I think Ethan might have been cheating on Hannah.” She told him about her visit to the house and finding the picture. “Oh, and the price I paid for snooping . . . I got sprayed by a skunk and had to take a bath in tomato sauce in the barn.” She brought her forearm to her nose and sniffed. “Then I took a couple more baths to try not to smell like a skunk pizza.”
Ryan laughed.
“I thought you might find some humor in that.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I just got a visual of you soaking in tomato sauce out in a barn.” He paused. “But as for Ethan cheating, I don’t know about that.”
“Our dad was unfaithful to our mom, and Ethan swore he’d never be a cheater.” She recalled her troubled childhood, then cringed. “But our mother was no picnic either. Oh, and speaking of picnics, I was supposed to go on another date with Isaac today, but I rescheduled, since I don’t smell so great at the moment.”
There was a long silence. “Oh. I thought that was a onetime deal.”
Charlotte didn’t want to play games with the one person in her life that she’d stayed truthful with. “I told you that I sensed he might know something. That’s the only reason for a second picnic. Only thing is, I hope he won’t think I’m leading him on.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever been on a picnic. If I have, it was a long time ago and must not have been very memorable.”
“It was nice. It was hot, but not like in Texas. It’s not nearly as humid here.”
“I hope he proves to be your answer.”
She sensed some jealousy. “He won’t be my answer. I’m hoping he has answers. I want to find out what happened so I can go home. It’s going to be hard enough to say bye to these people. I guess I never saw that part coming—that I would grow to care about them.”
“Are you going to tell them who you are before you leave?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I was thinking maybe a letter when I got back home.”
Charlotte fluffed her pillow behind her and kicked her legs up on the bed. “I wish I knew who the woman in the picture was. I’m trying to think of a way to ask Isaac, but he would wonder where I got the picture. I can’t tell him Ethan’s house. I’d just be adding one more lie to my long list, and it’s already exhausting to keep up with them all.”
“I know. I’ll be glad when you get home and come clean with all of them.”
Charlotte crossed her ankles. “I think under different circumstances, Hannah and I would have become good friends. She has something I’d like to have more of. Kindness.” Charlotte paused, long enough for Ryan to interject, but when he didn’t, she went on. “And of course, they all have this relationship with God that you speak about, and that continues to elude me. Although . . .” She was quiet.
“Although what?” Ryan said.
“Remember how we talked about a spiritual cleansing? I’m still getting that weird feeling. I feel it when they are saying devotions in the evenings, and I feel it sometimes when they are being so nice to me.”
“That’s the Holy Spirit, Charlotte.”
She wasn’t sure about that, but it provided an opening for what she really wanted to know. “I have a random question to ask you, Ryan.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you think Ethan is in heaven?”
Ryan was quiet for a while. “Are you asking me this because he killed himself?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She recalled what she saw in the clouds. “It worries Hannah that Ethan might not be in heaven.” It worries me too.
“Well, I tend to think that he is, but there are plenty of people who would disagree with me. What do you think?”
Charlotte grunted and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I’m the last person to weigh in on this, but I want to believe that Ethan is in a good place.”
“Then pray about it. Pray for his soul.”
Charlotte thought for a few moments. “Does that work?”
Ryan chuckled. “What? Does prayer work? Or will it get Ethan into heaven?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Prayer works, Charlotte. God answers our prayers. He doesn’t always answer them the way we might want Him to, but He hears us, and ultimately everything He does for us has purpose. Will praying for Ethan save his soul? I honestly don’t know, but Ethan was a good man, and I choose to believe that he is with the Lord. And Charlotte . . .”
“I’m still here.” She stared out at the setting sun as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.
“Sometimes people have mental illnesses that we aren’t aware of. You know that Ethan suffered on and off from depression.”
“I know. So did I. But I never once thought about killing myself.” She sniffled. “See, it’s happening again! The waterworks, that weird feeling.”
“Let Him in, Charlotte. He’s knocking, and all you have to do is open the door.”
“Maybe I’ll just crack a window for starters,” she said, only half kidding.
“Hang in there, sweet girl. I’m here for you. But I do think you need to get straight with these people, tell them who you really are. The Amish are known to be incredibly forgiving.”
“I know. I remember how they forgave the guy who shot all those schoolchildren. And to this day, I don’t understand how they could forgive him. I still think it would be easier to come clean in a letter, but for now, I’m hoping to find out who the woman in the picture is. I’ll pay more attention at the next worship service and see if I can find her. Although, I tend to tear up there too.” She sighed.
“All will be well, Charlotte. Pray.”
“Despite what you might think, I have been praying. I’m 99 percent sure I’m not doing it correctly, but I’m trying.”
“Sweet dreams, Charlotte.”
After they’d hung up, she started to cry. Maybe it was the spiritual cleansing Ryan spoke of. She was sad about Ethan. The burden of all her lies was weighing her down. But at the core of her feelings was a desire to really belong somewhere, to have a family like Hannah’s.
But when they learned the truth, would they forgive her? Ryan said they would, but it was a chance she wasn’t ready to take.
Ten
Charlotte nodded and smiled as Hannah introduced her to the ladies at Sisters’ Day. Lena followed up by telling everyone that Charlotte was baptized into the faith as a teenager, and that she didn’t know much Pennsylvania Dutch. Charlotte had already met some of the women at church service, but it was hard to remember names.
“And this is Edna Glick,” Lena said as she introduced the petite brunette that Charlotte instantly recognized from the picture. She was even wearing the same color dress, dark green. Even beneath the baggy dress, it was apparent that this Amish woman had a great figure, and when she smiled, she was truly beautiful, even in the plain clothes and with no makeup. Charlotte reminded herself not to judge before she knew the facts.
“Edna is engaged to John Dienner,” Lena said, still toting a coconut pie she’d brought. “They will be getting married in November. I’m glad you finally published the news. We’re so happy for you.”
“Congratulation
s. How long have you and John been dating?” Charlotte asked, thankful for the opportunity to get to know a little more about Edna.
Edna waved a hand in the air. “A long time. Ach, I’ve lost track.” She glanced to an older woman standing to her left. “A year and a half, Mamm?”
“Ya. About that long.”
So, what were you doing at my brother’s house while you were dating this other guy?
Charlotte searched her mind for a way to bring up Ethan. She wanted to see Edna’s reaction, but Lena and Hannah might think it odd. And Hannah was still fragile talking about Ethan. Charlotte didn’t want to say anything to upset her. She thought about how much things had changed over the past three weeks—how much she had changed.
After the ladies had put their dishes on the kitchen table, Lena motioned for everyone to gather in a circle within the spacious living room. Charlotte quickly gave the room a once-over, noticing right away that it was more decorative than where she was temporarily living. Two colorful floral couches sat on either side of the room—pink, yellow, lime green, and pastel blue. An antique china cabinet took up most of the third wall and was filled with white china and serving dishes. And there were several decorative vases on the mantel above the fireplace. It didn’t look very Amishy to Charlotte. She wondered who enforced the rules. The bishop, she supposed. He must not get out much.
They bowed their heads and prayed. Just thinking about God made Charlotte feel like she would explode with emotion, so she heeded Ryan’s advice. God, please don’t let me cry. Whatever is happening, I’m trying to get on board, but I wish I understood why I’m reacting like this.
Hannah had already told her that the agenda for today was to plan a schedule for tending to the elderly for the next few months, and each of the ladies had also brought copies of a favorite recipe to share. Hannah had brought her recipe for cream of carrot soup, something Charlotte hadn’t expected to enjoy so much when Hannah had made it last week. And Lena was sharing her recipe for rhubarb custard bars, another favorite for Charlotte. It was hard to find rhubarb in Texas, but it was plentiful in Pennsylvania, and she loved the flavor. At first, Lena had insisted that they would copy each recipe by hand fifteen times. But Hannah convinced her it would be so much easier to go to town and make copies. Charlotte had offered to bring a recipe of her own, but Lena and Hannah declined her offer so quickly that it solidified to Charlotte that she was indeed an awful cook. She only hoped that once she got home, she’d be able to perfect making their bread.
“I’m so glad you brought the recipe for the cinnamon sticks, Edna.” Lena flipped through the various recipes in her hand. “The family enjoyed the ones you brought us.”
Charlotte cut her eyes in Edna’s direction, wishing there was some way to pick her brain about Ethan.
Once they’d all exchanged recipes, the four children stayed in the living room and formed a circle on the floor as the adults moved toward the kitchen. When the children began to sing softly, Charlotte wished she could stay with them. It was the sweetest, most innocent sound. Don’t cry. Good grief, this was getting ridiculous.
The women uncovered casseroles, put spoons in salads, and lathered butter on warm loaves of bread. Charlotte eyed the offerings, knowing that this was what she’d miss most when she went back to Texas. She flipped through the recipes hoping there would be one for the bread, but there wasn’t, so she slipped them in the pocket of her apron and looked around. In contrast to the living room, the kitchen was similar to Lena’s, bare except for plates stacked on one corner of the counter, along with silverware, napkins, and glasses. At the other end, four canisters, a hand can opener, and a lantern. Charlotte filled her plate to capacity and ate like she didn’t have a weight worry in the world, knowing there would be a hefty price to pay when she got home.
After two hours of eating, making a visitation schedule for shut-ins, and even gossiping a little, Lena, Charlotte, and Hannah packed up.
“What did you think?” Hannah asked from the front seat of the topless buggy. Charlotte had settled into the backseat when Lena took the reins in the front. “It still wonders me why you don’t have Sisters’ Day in your district. I thought all communities did this.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No.” She’d given up trying to use their dialect. She realized how easily lies can embed themselves into a person’s psyche. “Like Lena said, I was glad that Edna brought her recipe for those cinnamon sticks.” Maybe this would open up some conversation about the woman.
Lena clicked her tongue and set the horse into a steady trot. “Ya, ’tis a gut recipe, but I would change a few things.” Charlotte wasn’t surprised. Lena really was at the top of her game when it came to cooking. “I wouldn’t use store-bought bread, even though I know that’s easier. And I think that I’d flavor the cream cheese with pecans and honey. That would give the recipe a nice twist.” She looked over her shoulder at Charlotte. “I make all of our cream cheese from goats’ milk.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure she wanted to know the many uses for goat milk, but she nodded and smiled. She was stuffed, and these days, she was thankful for the baggy dresses, but also wondering if she was going to fit into her clothes when she got home.
“Edna seems . . . nice.” Charlotte didn’t talk to Edna long enough to know that, so she added, “I mean, since she brought you the cinnamon sticks awhile back, and she was friendly today. Are you good friends with her, Hannah?”
Hannah twisted sideways in the front seat and looked at Charlotte. Something in Hannah’s eyes hinted that there was a story here, but Charlotte wasn’t sure she was reading Hannah’s expression correctly.
Shrugging, Hannah said, “We used to be very close, but after Ethan died, I stopped doing much, and my relationships with my friends suffered.” She paused, sighing. “I just didn’t want to hear about boyfriends, engagements, weddings, or anything like that.”
Charlotte thought about the comment Ryan made early on, how Charlotte might be wrong about the Amish. No doubt, she had been. This was a loving family with genuine faith in a God that seemed to have blessed them abundantly. I wish I could stay here. If only I wouldn’t have to become Amish . . .
“Mary, we’re so blessed to have you here,” Lena said, as if reading Charlotte’s mind. “It wonders us if you might consider staying.”
Charlotte sat taller. “Staying?”
Lena glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Ya. Live here with us. I’m sure you have friends in Texas, but you said your aunt and uncle aren’t living anymore. Maybe you would like to stay with us since we’re your family too.” She winked at Charlotte. “Just until you find someone to share your life with. Or . . . maybe you already have?”
“Uh, no.” Charlotte frowned. “I haven’t found anyone to share my life with.”
“Does that mean you’ll move here and live with us?” Hannah was still twisted in the seat, and she pressed her palms together and smiled. “That would be so gut.”
If Charlotte had predicted the outcome of this trip, she could have never come up with this scenario—that she would care for this family, become close friends with Hannah, and be offered a life here. “I-I don’t know. I am enjoying my time here though.”
“Just think about it,” Lena said. “It’s been so gut for Hannah, having you here, and of course, you’re family. We all want you to stay.”
The waterworks were threatening to spill. Again. Charlotte swallowed hard. She’d never had a real family, not anything like this. But despite the love and kindness that wrapped around her, this was not her world. Her life had electricity, hair salons, cars, and trendy clothes. She glanced down at her blue dress. “I don’t know, but thank you for having me here, and for the invitation to stay.”
Hannah reached for C
harlotte’s hand. “Maybe you will marry Isaac?”
Charlotte stared at her for a while as she recalled telling Ryan that she wanted more of what Hannah had—kindness. The woman seemed to have eyes for Isaac, but she would stow it and be happy for Charlotte if something developed between them. She wanted to tell Hannah that she should pursue something with Isaac, but not quite yet. More and more, it didn’t seem disloyal to Ethan, especially after finding that picture. “No, no. It’s not like that.” We have nothing in common.
Charlotte stayed quiet, but the urge to fess up was bubbling to the surface again.
Hannah had just finishing mending some of Jacob’s trousers when she heard her mother throwing up in the bathroom. It was the second time this week. She set the pants aside and went to the downstairs bathroom that her parents used and knocked on the door.
“Mamm, are you okay?”
“Ya, ya.” Her mother opened the door holding a towel to her mouth, but quickly pulled it away. “Something I ate must not have settled well with me.”
“Maybe you just have a bug. Is there anything I can get for you?”
Mamm shook her head. “Nee. But I think I will lie down for a while. I’ll feel better after a nap.” She brushed past Hannah, then turned around. “Ach, I haven’t milked the goats yet this afternoon. Can you do that for me?”
“Ya, of course.”
Hannah filled a bucket with warm water and had just gotten to the barn when she heard horse hooves. They weren’t expecting anyone, and the buggy was too far away to see who was driving, so she got the first goat settled in the stanchion and began washing down the teats and udder. Lucy was her mother’s oldest goat that was still giving milk, so Hannah always started with her since she knew the routine.
She listened to the sound of the buggy getting closer. She didn’t want to interrupt Lucy’s flow, but she also didn’t want anyone knocking on the door and disturbing her mother. She kept her hands on the teats, alternating back and forth, occasionally breaking to blot her face with a towel. When she heard the visitor’s buggy come to a stop, she strained her neck until she could see out the barn window.