by Beth Wiseman
Amos locked eyes with Charlotte. “I’m not eating a bug.”
Charlotte laughed. “No, no. It’s not really caterpillar. It’s eel, cucumber, rice, and—”
Amos shook his head, waved his hand, and took a step backward as he rambled off something in Dutch. Then he left the kitchen.
“Jacob, I know you’ll try anything.” She handed him the same slice, and he smelled it before he popped it in his mouth. “Ugh.” He scrunched his face, then spit it back into the napkin. “Nee. You can keep your caterpillar eel food.”
“Don’t give up.” Charlotte chose a double salmon thinking Jacob might like that better. He didn’t eat anything with tomato sauce, but otherwise, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him turn down food. “You just have to find one you like.”
Hannah laughed when Jacob spit out the second bite into the napkin. “Nee. Danki, Mary, but nee.”
Lena crinkled her nose, reminded Charlotte that she’d been sick, then she, too, left the kitchen.
Charlotte slammed her hands to her hips. “Hannah. Don’t disappoint me. I know you will try a few of these.” She reached for another slice. “This one is grasshopper, but I promise it doesn’t have grasshoppers in it. It has shrimp, asparagus, and . . . other stuff.” She decided not to mention the eel this time.
Hannah brought the food to her nose like Jacob had, then stared at it. “Maybe they should give different names to these foods.” She slowly chewed it, and Charlotte waited for it to hit the napkin as Hannah twisted her mouth into an awful expression. But Hannah swallowed. She wadded up the napkin. “Danki to your friend John for buying these for us to try, but . . .” She crinkled her nose.
“Y’all don’t have good taste. These are great.” Charlotte was too full to eat one more thing, but she piled the sushi back in the to-go containers and stashed them in the refrigerator.
“Better be nice or I won’t write down that bread recipe for you to take home.” Hannah winked. “And I’m pretty sure you think we have pretty gut taste when it comes to that.”
Charlotte nodded. “I promise, I’ll be good.”
They said their good-nights, and Charlotte went to bed at nine thirty, the earliest since she’d gotten there. So, she wasn’t too surprised when she woke up at four o’clock the next morning. She got dressed and tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen. Everyone would be shocked if she started breakfast this morning, but not as shocked as Charlotte when she eyed all the sushi boxes piled on the counter.
All empty.
Sixteen
Charlotte threw away the empty containers and was frying bacon when Lena and Hannah came downstairs. Hannah said something to Lena in Pennsylvania Dutch, and Lena chuckled, which was nice to hear since Lena had been feeling so poorly lately.
“Not fair. You know I can’t understand you.” Charlotte grinned as she glanced over her shoulder, then finished flipping the bacon.
“Hannah said that your people in Texas are going to be surprised if we send you back knowing how to cook. And she said something else, but it’s a surprise we will share with you later. That’s why she spoke the Deitsch.”
“I love surprises.”
Jacob clomped down the stairs in his heavy boots. And Amos went straight to the table and sat down while Lena started coffee in the percolator, another thing that tasted better in Amish Country.
“Speaking of surprises,” Charlotte said as she laid out the bacon on a plate lined with paper towels. She turned around when she was done, grinning. “Did someone get hungry in the middle of the night?” Her eyes landed on Jacob as she crossed her arms. He must have decided the sushi wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe he’d gotten a snack while he was sneaking out of the house.
“Don’t look at me.” Jacob shrugged, shaking his head. “That stuff is right up there with tomato sauce.”
Amos cleared his throat. “I ate your bug rolls.”
Charlotte’s jaw dropped, but Lena was the one who burst out laughing again.
“Amos, you ate them all?”
He opened up the newspaper and started scanning the pages. “Ya. I ate them all.” He lifted his eyes to Charlotte. “I woke up hungry, and there was nothing else in the refrigerator but goat milk cheese and your bug rolls.”
“That was a lot of food,” Lena said, still smiling.
Amos held a palm up to silence them. “I do not want to know what I ate, what they were called, or anything else about them. They were gut, though.”
They all started laughing, and Charlotte was sure she was going to burst with a joy that she hadn’t even known was possible. She silently thanked God for His many blessings, for Hannah and this wonderful family, and then she thanked Him again before breakfast.
It was later that morning when Charlotte told Hannah again that she was going to need to go back to Texas soon.
“You can’t leave yet!” Hannah bounced up on her toes. “The Gordonville mud sale is in two weeks. It’s held at the fire station, and it’s great fun. Do you have mud sales in Texas?”
“Sure we do.” Maybe the Amish ladies in Beeville went to mud sales. With each passing day, the lies seeped deeper into her bloodstream like a virus that might kill her if she didn’t come clean. “I-I don’t know if I can stay that long, Hannah.”
Hannah frowned. “I’m going to miss you so much.” She pointed a finger at Charlotte. “Now, don’t cry when I give you your surprise. I was going to wait for Mamm, but she’s taking a nap, and I can’t wait.”
Charlotte took a deep breath. This new relationship with God was great, but the spiritual cleansing that came with it had been both joyous—and painful. “Okay, I won’t cry.”
“This is for you.” Hannah handed her a small box. “Mamm and I filled it with all of our favorite recipes. With the exception of baking bread, you haven’t shown much interest in learning to cook.” She giggled. “But you’ve shown a large interest in eating. And whether or not you stayed in our community or went back to Texas, we both wanted you to have our favorite recipes with hopes that you’ll think of us fondly from wherever you are.”
Charlotte put the small box on the kitchen table and threw her arms around Hannah. “I’m going to miss you the most. I love you, and I can see why Ethan—” She stopped herself just before she blew her cover. “I just love you.”
Hannah eased away, cupped Charlotte’s cheeks, and smiled. “Ach, my dearest Mary, I am going to miss you very much too.”
Charlotte hung her head, choked back her tears, and picked up the recipe box. “I will cherish this forever.” She smiled, wondering if Ryan would be her food guinea pig when she got home.
Hannah walked into the mudroom that afternoon and waited for her mother to run a blue dress through the washer. “Are you sure you feel up to doing this?” They’d skipped doing the laundry yesterday since Hannah’s mother hadn’t been feeling well.
“Ya. I feel much better. Whatever bug had latched on to me must have flown away.”
“Ach, gut. Is this the last of the clothes?”
Her mother tossed the wet dress into the laundry basket. “Ya. But Mary usually brings her sheets down when she knows we’ll be doing the wash. I don’t see them.”
“I told her we would catch the wash today, but she’s used to us doing laundry on Monday, so she probably forgot. I’ll go get them.” She took two steps but stopped and turned around. “Ach, by the way, I gave Mary the recipe box. She started talking about going home, and I wanted her to have it. I asked her to please stay until the mud sale in Gordonville in a couple of weeks, but I don’t know if she will.”
“I know you’re going to miss her.” Mamm worked a white shirt through the washer. “I will miss her too. God sent her here at the perfect time. She’s been so gut for you.”
“Ya. It’s been like having a sister.” She grabbed the extra laundry basket. “I’ll go get the sheets.”
As Hannah pulled the pillowcases off, she smiled. Mary was never around on laundry day. She thought about the things t
hat had irritated her about her cousin in the beginning, but her cousin’s quirkiness and ability to care deeply had made up for her lack of knowledge about cooking, gardening, and cleaning. She wondered if Mary wasn’t good at these things because of the type of childhood she’d had before moving in with her aunt and uncle.
She tossed the top sheet on the floor with the pillowcases, then lifted a corner of the fitted sheet. When she did, she saw something yellow between the mattresses. She lifted the mattress up and pulled out a yellow pad of paper. She read a few sentences, then sat down on the bed . . . before she fell down.
Despite the cooler temperatures, Charlotte dripped with sweat inside Ethan’s house, and the skunk smell still lingered in the air. She tried to hurry and make a list of repairs, and she took lots of pictures with her phone to reference when she got home. She would need to hire a contractor and get the house on the market.
She made one last run through Ethan’s things, without actually unpacking all the boxes, and decided that she wasn’t going to discover anything new about his death. She was a little worried that her black-and-white friend might still be lurking around, and being here made her sad, so she took one last look before closing the door behind her.
She looked around outside, and when she didn’t see her smelly intruder, she sat down on a porch step. As she stared out at the trees in the yard, she couldn’t help but wonder which one Ethan had chosen. She dialed Ryan’s number.
After reiterating how much she’d enjoyed dinner, Charlotte got to what was on her mind. “I’ve been thinking . . . if Ethan hadn’t died, I would have never come here.”
“Probably not.”
“Or if I had come here, it would have been for a short visit, and I probably wouldn’t have found a family of friends. Or a relationship with God. It makes me believe that Ethan’s death wasn’t in vain. Do you think that sometimes God allows a life to be taken because He knows that a person’s passing will have a positive impact on other people’s lives?”
“I don’t know, but He gave His only Son for all of us, so I guess it’s probably true. Scripture says we all live a complete life. I try to remind myself of this when I see a young child die. For some people, it takes eighty or ninety years to live a complete life. For others, they might live a complete life in four years, but still accomplish all they were supposed to. So, it stands to reason that Ethan lived a complete life as well.”
“But did he? What if by using his free will, Ethan interrupted God’s plan for his life?”
Ryan was quiet for a few moments. “Charlotte, my first thought is that you need to pray about this. We all have questions. We all have worries. And depending on who you talk to, you can get a host of responses from well-intentioned, godly people.”
“Something else is still bothering me.” She stretched her legs out across the two lower steps. “I’m pretty sure Jacob knows that I’m not Amish. I don’t think he knows I’m Ethan’s sister, but I think he might have heard just enough to know I’ve been lying.”
“Uh oh.”
“But, if he overheard, he’s staying quiet about it. I sort of hinted that I knew he snuck out of the house sometimes, so maybe that’s why he is keeping my secret. I think Amos and Lena would be furious if they knew what he was doing.” She paused. “Although, they do have this thing they call a rumschpringe. When a person turns sixteen, they get to run around and experience the outside world. Hannah told me that parents tend to look the other way. Although Hannah also said that Amos was pretty strict with her, so I don’t know.”
“Well, you’re going to tell them soon enough, and if Jacob hasn’t said anything before now, he probably won’t.”
“Hannah wants me to stay for something called a mud sale in a couple of weeks, but I don’t know. I think I’d fold before then and tell them the truth. I am never going to tell another lie again in my life.”
Ryan chuckled. “Yeah, you will. Even if it’s a tiny white lie that just slips out. But I think it’s great that you feel that way.”
“I’m just terrified about how they will react when they find out I’m Ethan’s sister.”
“I don’t know. If I had to guess, I’d say they will be really mad at first, but then they will forgive you. It’s their way. And once you tell them the reasoning behind your lies, they’ll understand. I’m sure they’ve grown to love the Charlotte the rest of us know and love.”
Charlotte’s heart did a little dance. It wasn’t exactly an admission of Ryan’s affection for her, but there did seem to be some sort of subtext in his comment. She let out a heavy breath. “I hope you’re right. I’m not looking forward to having that conversation with them.” She stood up, took a last look at the house, then stepped down off the porch. “I guess I better go. I’ll let you know when I book a flight.”
She ended the call, then started back down the road toward home. She liked the way that sounded, even though she knew it wasn’t her true home. She was considering staying for the mud sale in Gordonville. It seemed important to Hannah, although she was also anxious to spend some time with Ryan and see where that might go. And freelance projects were coming in that she’d better start soon.
She glanced up at the sky, recalling the image she’d seen form in the clouds. No way was that a coincidence. She was choosing to believe that Ethan was in heaven. That would be the one good thing that would come out of telling them all the truth—she could tell Hannah what she saw, and anyone who knew Ethan well would know the significance of this sign. She wasn’t sure whether or not to tell Hannah about the picture of Edna Glick and what she’d learned. Whether or not it was a one-night stand or an ongoing relationship, it seemed cruel to tell Hannah over a year later when she was starting to move forward with her life.
By the time she got home, she’d worked up an appetite, and Hannah’s cookies were calling her name. Charlotte was glad they didn’t keep a scale in the house. She’d face her own scale when she got home, then get back on a schedule at the gym. She’d have her memories to take with her. And God. It amazed her how Ethan had found this place, these people. Why would you leave all this?
Charlotte saw that Jacob and Amos were home early. Their large work boots were by the front door when she walked in, and the familiar smell of manure and hay wafted up her nose. But she’d barely closed the door behind her when she gasped and stopped in her tracks.
Amos, Lena, Jacob, and Hannah were all standing together. And beside them were Charlotte’s suitcases.
Charlotte looked at each family member. Lena and Hannah were sniffling, but wouldn’t look at her. Jacob had his arms folded across his chest, and he was having no trouble looking at Charlotte—glaring at her. As usual, Amos’s expression was unreadable, but he took a step toward her and handed her the yellow pad. Charlotte wished the floor would swallow her up as she took the tablet. Maybe she should have felt relief that she wouldn’t have to lie anymore, but her heart raced as panic set in.
“I know this looks bad, and I’ve wanted to tell you all the truth for a long time.” It had been a good while since she’d written a letter to Ethan, and she was frantically trying to remember what was on the yellow pad. Tears filled her eyes so that as she flipped through the first few pages, she could barely read anything. Her bottom lip trembled as she caught bits and pieces.
I’ve sent letters to Hannah, and while your fiancée did write me back, her notes were brief and offered no explanation. None of my phone calls were answered or returned either. Since I’m not getting any answers, I’ve decided to spend some time in Lancaster County, to live among the Amish, as one of them. Yes, it’s deceitful, but I have to know the truth. From what I’ve read about the Amish, they aren’t very trusting and aren’t fond of outsiders. Maybe this is why, after you became a member of their group, you detached yourself from the people who love you. Either way, I’m not above playing dress-up and telling a few lies to find out what happened to my only brother.
“I wanted to tell you the truth,” she said again
, “. . . that I’m not Amish, but then I grew to love all of you.” She paused as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I learned about God while being here. I’ve made friends.” She pointed to Hannah, but Hannah wouldn’t look at her. Even Jacob turned away from her. But Amos’s eyes fired daggers at her.
“You will leave our home now. We have called a car for you.” Amos held up a hand when Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, shaking his head. “No more upset for my family.”
Charlotte looked at Hannah, noticing she was holding the recipe box, along with the heart-shaped potholders. “Hannah, please . . .”
“You will go!” Amos took a forceful step toward her.
She thought about all the times Ryan had said the Amish were forgiving. “What about forgiveness? Don’t you even want to know why I’m here, why I came here under disguise?”
Jacob tossed something at her feet. “We know who you are.”
Charlotte reached down and picked up her driver’s license as tears poured down her cheeks. “I wanted to know why my brother hanged himself. You can’t fault me for that! That’s all I ever wanted to know.”
Amos took another step toward her and pointed to the door, and Jacob picked up two of her suitcases. “Your secret was a lot bigger than mine,” he said in an angry whisper as he brushed past her.
“Why didn’t you just ask us?” Hannah asked in a loud voice. Lena put a hand on her daughter’s arm, shaking her head.
“Because I didn’t know what happened,” Charlotte said, desperate for them to understand. “I didn’t know if you broke up with Ethan, if you broke his heart so badly that he killed himself. I just wanted to understand and—”
“Leave here!” Amos was directly in front of her. “Go now.”
Charlotte eased around Amos to Hannah. “I’m so sorry. Please, Hannah.”
“You need to go, Mary.” Lena sighed. “I mean, Charlotte.”
Hannah wouldn’t look at Charlotte, and after a few moments, she ran upstairs. With the exception of when Ethan died, Charlotte hadn’t felt this bad since she and Ethan had been separated and sent to different foster homes.