A Home for Hannah

by Amy Lillard

  “We can tell him tonight. Maybe we could come over for supper . . .”

  But Aaron shook his head. “No. I’ve been thinking about it. It’s unfair for him to spend fifteen years of his life believing one man was his father only to find out that another is. And then to have that other in a situation such as this . . . Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t know.”

  The quiet words nearly broke her heart. “Aaron.”

  “I have a beautiful family. And I have loved two beautiful women. Sometimes things just don’t work out the way we think they might. God’s plan is different for us all.”

  Anger rose inside her, and she did her best to tamp it down. “You really think God had a hand in this?”

  “God has a hand in everything.”

  Hannah jumped up from her seat and paced around the kitchen. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  She whirled on him. “Don’t I?”

  “Sit down, Hannah.” He nudged her chair with one foot.

  She didn’t want to, but she slid back in her seat and propped her chin in one hand. “I think you should tell Brandon. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “It was.” He nodded. “But it’ll just confuse him. I think it’s better we just leave it for now.”

  She didn’t want to give up, but she didn’t want to continue to argue with him about it. A time would come, and they would tell Brandon. Until then, they would live. Just live.

  “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

  She peeled up the edge of the plastic place mat and smoothed it back into place. “Leah is talking about opening a store in town. I think maybe I’ll stay and help her.” There was nothing for her to return to in Tennessee. She might not be able to rejoin her community, but she could stay close this time. Spend time with her family, not be so removed.

  “Have you talked to the bishop?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure how he’s going to take it.” The bishop seemed sure that she would come back into the fold, but there were too many other factors involved. She had to do what was best for Brandon. She could only hope that the bishop and the other elders would understand. They could easily put her under a Bann whether she had joined the church or not. Or they could decide to allow her to remain close and keep a relationship with her Amish family. But she knew what would happen. There would be a shunning, and she would continue on, forever in the fringes.

  Oh, the choices she had made.

  She looked up and met Aaron’s steady blue gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  She shot him a trembling smile. “For everything. For keeping Brandon from you. For not coming home all those years ago. For not telling you sooner.” She shook her head. “I’ve made so many mistakes. So many. I would give anything to go back and correct them.”

  “We can only go forward.”

  She nodded. “I know. And I am sorry.” Once again she had hurt all the people she loved. Maybe one day she would learn her lesson.

  * * *

  It was more than strange to pull her car into the bishop’s drive. She didn’t mean any disrespect, but it was better to go in honest. She wasn’t staying. She couldn’t stay. She wasn’t joining the church. She had a son to raise.

  The bishop stepped out of the barn and made his way across the yard toward her. “Hannah Gingerich, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  “Sorry. Is this a bad time?”

  He shook his head, his beard brushing against his chest with the motion. “Come sit on the porch in the shade.” He gestured toward the house, and Hannah eased up the steps and took a seat in one of the rocking chairs there.

  “I see you’re dressed a bit differently today. I assume this is the answer to my question about you staying.”

  “Yes.” Simple and direct.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I suppose you know what this means.”

  She nodded. “I wish it could be different,” she said. “But there’s no other way.”

  He smiled gently at her. “There’s always a way.”

  Everyone kept saying that to her, and she was about tired of it. She had given herself headaches racking her brain for an answer. She had surrendered the problem to God, but He hadn’t answered. She had no choice but do right by her son. It was all anyone should expect from her. “So I’ve been told,” she managed.

  “You have to have faith, Hannah.”

  Faith. Now she needed faith.

  “I’m sorry.” She stood and went to move past him and down the steps.

  “You know we will always welcome you back to the church. All you have to do is say the word.”

  “Thank you.” She made her way to her car. She would be shunned, but welcomed back if she ever changed her mind. Maybe when Brandon graduated; maybe after his college. If she could wait that long. By then Aaron would most likely be remarried. Who knew if her parents would still be around. The thought was sobering. So much wasted time, and only herself to blame.

  * * *

  “Are you really not joining the church?” Tillie bounded into the sewing room, pinning Hannah with a quick look.

  “No, I’m really not. And I don’t want to talk about this now.” Not where Brandon might overhear.

  But her sister seemed to know what she was talking about. “Brandon’s over at Jimmy’s.” Tillie hopped onto the bed and sat with her legs crisscrossed. “And you, my dear sister, are a hypocrite.”

  She should have known this was coming. And there would be more to endure before it was all said and done. “It’s complicated,” Hannah said, placing a stack of underwear in the basket that served as a dresser.

  “It always is. Isn’t that what you told me?”

  “Tillie.”

  “Seriously, Hannah. How can you encourage me to join the church when you aren’t doing that yourself?”

  “I’m trying to save you from making the same mistakes that I made.”

  Tillie shook her head. “Try again.”

  “I have Brandon to think about.”

  “Do you really think the bishop would make you abandon your son for the church?”

  When she put it like that . . . “It’s better this way.”

  “It’s easier.”

  Hannah propped her hands on her hips and eyed her sister. “There’s nothing about this that’s been easy.” Once again she was walking away from those she loved. She was hurting her family and Aaron and all because of one stupid, prideful decision she’d made over fifteen years ago.

  “Maybe you’re making it hard.”

  “It is hard.”

  “Do you want to join the church or not?”

  “What?” Hannah shook her head at the shift in the conversation.

  “Do you want to join the church?”

  She wanted to be with Aaron. She wanted to be close to her family. And in order to do that she had to rejoin the church. It was as simple as that.

  “You’re taking way too long to answer.”

  “There’s more to it than you know, Til.”

  Her sister shook her head. “No there’s not. Church isn’t about being with family or being able to date. Not really. Church is about God. And you have to ask yourself, If I don’t join the church, am I being obedient to God?”

  The words sent a pang through her belly, but she waved them away with one hand. That was Tillie, always dramatic, always playing for show. Well, Hannah wasn’t falling for it. This was about her, as a mother, doing what was best for her child. And there was nothing more to it than that. And the only role God had played was to not answer her prayers, not give her the direction that she needed. Surely He couldn’t find fault with her in that.

  “I’m staying in Mississippi, but I’m not joining the church. I’m going to help Leah with this store she wants to open, and I’m going to . . . I’m going to get my GED. Maybe even go to college.” What a riot that would be. Her and Brandon in college at the same time. But the idea
made her heart sink in her chest. She had so much catching up to do. Especially now that she wouldn’t have any means of support.

  “Is that what you want to do?” Tillie pinned her with another knowing stare.

  “Of course.” But she almost choked on the words. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. She had thought and prayed and thought and prayed until she couldn’t keep anything straight. Life shouldn’t be that confusing.

  “So when I decide that I want to go with Melvin to work on car engines, you can’t fuss at me for that.”

  “Tillie, that’s different. Don’t make the same mistakes I have.” And then there were their parents to think about. How would they feel with all three of their daughters out of the church?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Now, where are we going again?” Brandon looked to his cousin, who sat next to him driving the boxy, horse-pulled buggy down the dusty road.

  “A volleyball game.”

  Brandon tilted his head to one side. “And y’all do this often?”

  Joshua shrugged one shoulder, hands still loosely grasping the reins that came right through the front window. “Every other Saturday or so.”

  If someone had told him that he would be lumbering down the road in a conveyance that resembled a black cracker box he would have called them a liar straight to their face. Yet here he was. And though the mode of transportation was slow, it was kinda cool at the same time. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. Not even his best friend/cousin.

  “And how many people are going to be there?”

  “Thirty or so.”

  “Any girls?” Brandon asked with a grin.

  Joshua elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “I thought you already had a girlfriend.”

  “Dude, we’re just friends.”

  “Jah. Sure.”

  Okay, so he talked about Shelly a lot, but that didn’t mean anything. She was the only other true friend he had in Pontotoc, and he enjoyed sharing his study time with her. But that didn’t mean anything else was going on. She was pretty enough, he supposed, but he had a feeling that her parents wouldn’t let her date anyone even if he and Shelly decided they wanted to go out. They might not be Amish, or Mennonite like his aunt Leah, but they were just about as conservative.

  “No, really.”

  Joshua shot him another look, then turned his attention back to the road. “The girls who are there are going to be Amish.”

  And even more conservative than Shelly.

  “That doesn’t mean that I can’t talk to them.”

  “No, but you have to be . . . be . . .”

  “Be what?”

  “Less Englisch.”

  Brandon rolled his eyes. “Like they’re not going to know that I’m English since I’m wearing this?” He plucked at his shirt and gave a wave toward his jeans. He had wanted to wear shorts since it was so hot, but his mother had told him that was a little too risqué even for a volleyball game. Whatever that meant.

  “Jah. But I’m talking about how you talk. Dude and all that.”

  “You don’t want me to embarrass you.”

  “I don’t want you to embarrass yourself.”

  Fair enough. “Anything I can’t talk about?”

  Joshua shook his head. “Stick to safe topics.”

  “Like the weather and . . .” He couldn’t talk about baseball scores, or the NFL draft, or how the Titans might do this year, or where he was thinking about going to school after he graduated. Or any of the things that he might talk to English girls about.

  “The weather’s good,” Joshua said with a laugh. And Brandon knew right then it was going to be one long afternoon.

  * * *

  The volleyball “court” was basically a flat place in someone’s pasture with a portable net and a large rectangle spray-painted on the grass. But everyone seemed to be having a really fun time. The game itself hadn’t started yet, and like them, a few were still arriving. Someone had set up a couple of tables, and the girls were arranging snacks. A large cooler sat at one end.

  “Hand me that bag.” Joshua pointed to the brown paper grocery sack sitting on the back floor of the buggy.

  “What’s in it?”

  Joshua grinned. “My mother’s seasoned pretzels.” He shook the sack so that the pretzels rattled in their container.

  “Should I have brought something?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. This is fine. Come on. I’ll introduce you around.”

  Joshua led Brandon into the crowd of teens. According to his cousin, all of the kids in attendance were over sixteen and in their run-around time. Once Brandon had heard that Amish kids were allowed to do whatever they wanted during this time of their life, but Joshua assured him that wasn’t the case. They might be able to attend singings and ball games like this one, but they were still very much under the supervision of their parents.

  He received a few strange looks, but not as many as he had expected. He supposed Joshua had already told most of them about his odd Englisch cousin.

  “Are you going to play?” Joshua asked.

  Brandon shook his head. “I think I’ll sit it out.” He didn’t want to come on too strong. He was a visitor here, and though most of the teens seemed to accept him readily enough, he certainly didn’t want to push his welcome. Plus, he wasn’t sure he wanted to run and jump in this oppressive heat. He would end up smelling like the wrong end of a goat. And that wasn’t a good impression at all.

  The kids divided up into teams, three in all if he was correct. The plan was simple: the first two teams would play, then the third team would play the winner. Brandon hung out on the fringes while Joshua took the field with one of the first teams.

  Brandon could honestly say that he had never seen anything like it. For sure he had never seen girls play sports in dresses. But they played as hard as the boys, laughing and running after the ball, seemingly not bothered at all by their skirts as they ran.

  Most of the guys wore some shade of blue shirt. Even Joshua’s shirt was a light blue. But the girls wore all sorts of colors and of an odd mix. He saw burgundy-colored dresses with green aprons, blue with purple, brown with green and endless combinations with gray and black. Every one of them was barefoot, a fact he found fascinating.

  “Hi.”

  He turned as a girl sauntered up beside him. She was dressed much the same as the other girls, though her dress was purple with a brown apron on top. Brandon wanted to ask why they wore aprons when they weren’t cooking, but he was afraid he would embarrass his cousin, so he tucked that question away until he could ask his grandmother or one of his aunts.

  “Hey,” he returned, noting that like the rest of the kids, she was barefoot too.

  “I’m Katy Ann.” She stuck out a hand to shake.

  Brandon took it, surprised at the gesture.

  “Joe Daniel said you used to live in Nashville. Is that true?” Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement. She was pretty, he decided. Dark blond hair, lightly tanned cheeks, and eyes the color of the sky. He was beginning to get used to the fact that Amish girls didn’t wear makeup. In fact, he thought he kinda liked it.

  “Yeah. I was born there.”

  “I’ve been there, you know.”

  She seemed so proud of herself that he nodded. “That’s cool.”

  “Jah.” She tossed her head as if trying to get her chin at just the right angle. “I was in Ethridge visiting some family, and my aunt got really sick. She had to be taken to the hospital there.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Oh, she’s okay now. But it’s so big there.”

  “It is big.”

  “A lot bigger than here for sure.” She laughed, a sweet sound, and he realized that she was trying to flirt with him. He wasn’t sure if he was creeped out or flattered. Flattered, he decided. “We must seem like country bumpkins to you.”

  Well, yeah, but he wasn’t about to say so. “It’s charming here.” Best word ever. Thankfully he’d he
ard someone in town say that very thing. It seemed to work, for Katy Ann smiled, revealing twin dimples in her cheeks.

  “Your mamm’s Amish?”

  He nodded.

  “How does that work?”

  “It’s complicated.” He wasn’t sure he understood it all himself. His mom had seemed happy to be back with her family. Happy enough that she started dressing like them, but then yesterday something had changed. He wasn’t sure what it was. She didn’t seem as happy any longer, and she had gone back to wearing her jeans.

  “Are you staying here? In Pontotoc?”

  He laughed. “You sure ask a lot of questions.”

  “Sorry.” She ducked her head. “It’s just we don’t get a lot of visitors around here.”

  “It’s all right. I don’t mind.”

  Her chin shot up, and she flashed him another sweet smile.

  “Hey. What are you doing?” A tall, older-looking Amish guy walked up, his tone anything but friendly.

  “I’m talking to Brandon,” she retorted.

  The guy propped his hands on his hips, clearly unimpressed with Katy Ann’s stern tone. “And I told you not to come over here.”

  Brandon took a step forward, preparing to defend Katy Ann. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. They were just talking. No laws against that.

  “Ray, you may be my brother, but you are not my keeper.”

  “Dat would tan your hide if he knew you were over here flirting with an Englischer.”

  Family feud. Count him out. “It’s okay, Katy Ann.”

  Ray turned her by the shoulders and nudged her in the direction of a cluster of girls who were watching the game. “Stay with your friends.” His tone brooked no argument.

  Once Katy Ann was out of hearing range, Ray whirled on Brandon. “And you need to stay away from my sister.”

  As much as he hated being told what to do and Ray’s surly tone, this wasn’t a fight he wanted to have. He held up his hands as if in surrender. “No harm.”

  “Keep it that way.” Ray spun on his heel and walked away.

  Maybe it was a mistake to come. If the guys didn’t want him to talk to the girls, then he was stuck talking to no one until Joshua’s game was over. With any luck, they wouldn’t win, and Brandon could beg a ride home. It seemed not all of the Amish were as welcoming as his family had been. Understandable, he supposed, but it still stung.