She was crying.
He paused, not sure what to do. Let her be, or offer her consolation?
Switching the can of paint from one hand to another, Zed considered. Despite his time out among the English, he was not a “smooth operator,” as one of the other truck drivers used to call himself. He found it hard to even talk to most women, let alone a woman in tears.
But Fanny was different, and he couldn’t walk away without trying to ease her pain.
“Fanny?” He put the paint and brush on the ground and lifted a shirt and blanket and dress, working his way in toward her.
“Oh, Zed. I didn’t hear you out there.” He got a flash of her red, swollen eyes before she turned away from him, unpinned a dress, and folded it in her arms.
“What’s the matter?”
“I was just thinking of Emma, and … it’s such a small thing. I shouldn’t be upset, I know that. But … I didn’t even get a chance to say good-bye.” A sob escaped her throat, and she pressed a fist to her mouth.
“She’s just moving down the road a ways,” he said gently. “You’ll probably see her later today.”
“I know that, but … but it won’t be the same. She’s gone off to live with her husband now, Zed. She’s taken her bed and her clothes. I was just thinking, Emma’s dresses won’t be hanging in this yard anymore. She’ll be hanging wash for two over at the Kings’ place.”
Zed looked right and left at the laundry that surrounded them in a cloth cocoon. Was this not enough washing for one woman to take care of?
“She won’t be far, but it will be different. At dinner, we won’t be hearing Emma’s stories of her scholars who memorized their times table quick as could be or struggled to hold a pencil right. And at Christmastime, when she teaches her students songs and stories to recite, Emma starts singing around the house.”
It was hard for Zed to imagine the serious schoolteacher humming a light tune, but he knew that people were different inside the privacy of their home.
“She was just a girl when I met her.” Fanny took down another dress and pressed it to her heart. “Only ten years old. Smart and well-behaved, but skittish as a colt. It’s hard to believe that time could fly so quickly, but suddenly that girl is married and leaving home. I know this is the way it should be, that young people marry and move on, but it still gives me such a tender pang in my chest when I think of the little girl she used to be and …” Her voice broke and the dress dropped from her hands as tears flooded her eyes.
At a loss as to how to comfort her, Zed touched her shoulders gently, and then folded her into his arms. “Geh lessa,” he said softly.
Let it be.
Let it go.
Let it be what it is.
“Geh lessa.” It was an expression Amish folk used in daily conversation, the simple desire to accept Gott’s plan. To submit. To yield to His way. Right now, it was all he could think of to bring her comfort.
A sudden memory flashed in his mind—the way his mother had held him close while he sobbed over Pepper, their family dog, who had been killed by a car on the road. He had loved that dog, and the loss had made him crumble inside. Remembering the reassurance of his mother’s arms, he prayed he might extend the same comfort to Fanny.
A knot of sympathy twined in his chest as he considered the source of her distress. He didn’t think this was just about Emma moving out to start her married life. Fanny was still fragile from Thomas’s death—still recovering—and she wasn’t quite ready to deal with the loss of one of her chicks.
As her whimpering breaths began to even out, he became aware of the flowery sweet smell of her, the smallness of her pink fingers on his broad chest. The way she folded into his arms so neatly, like a puzzle piece that fit just right. He held his breath, afraid that the smallest stir would unravel the moment.
“Look at me, crying over such a happy thing as a wedding. It must be a sin, not to appreciate the good things Gott has brought to us.”
“We take the bitter with the sweet,” he said. “But you haven’t always had the sweet. You’re still mourning Thomas, and when the heart is mending, it lacks the strength. The strength a mother needs to push her baby from the nest.”
“You’re right. Geh lessa. I knew that this wedding would be a strain for me. I forgot to brace myself when the wave of emotions hit.” She drew in a steadying breath, and leaned back to look up at him. Her teary eyes were bright as stars in the night sky. “I’d be so lost without you.”
Did she mean that? Did she mean to say that she needed him, that she wanted him near? He studied her eyes as if they might chart the way, but the answer wasn’t clear.
Geh lessa, he told himself. Let it go, at least for now.
Fanny sniffed and swiped at her tears with the back of one hand. “Well, I reckon that’s enough crying for one day. Especially a busy wash day.”
He reached down for the fallen dress and handed it to her. “And you’re worried about having one less to wash for? Five still left at home. Is that not enough for you?”
She let out a laugh. “I know. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.”
He nodded and then forced himself to turn away before he revealed too much. Her scent still clung to him as he peeled his way out of the maze of laundry and got back to work.
16
“The frost is on the pumpkin!” Will said for the umpteenth time that day as he came through the doorway with an armful of firewood. It was an expression his father had used, and now young Will had taken a liking to it as autumn gave way to winter.
“Ya, the frost will be back tonight. And that’s why we need to keep our stove burning,” Fanny said. “You can put the wood down in the basket in the corner, and bring me a few pieces.”
“Can I throw it into the fire?” he asked.
Fanny used the poker to open the door of the wood-burning stove. “I’ll let you add it gently. We don’t want to throw it in and make the embers fly.” Arming Will with thick padded oven mitts, she let him add wood, one split log at a time, and showed him how to move it with the poker. “And always keep the mitts on until you close the stove door and put the poker away.”
Beth watched from the table where she was playing with an embroidery set. “Careful, Will,” she warned.
“He’s being very careful,” Fanny said.
The fire cast a glow on his eager face as he soaked up her instructions. He was a good learner, this one. Emma had said he was doing well with his lessons when he managed to control the “ants in his pants.” Hard to believe that her boy was in school now, and Beth wouldn’t be too far behind him.
Time did fly, and Fanny hated to see it slip away like sugar through her fingers. She wished she could be more accepting of the changes Gott brought His children. Granted, she had weathered some difficult storms, losing two dear husbands, but she had begun to realize how the small changes pinched at her. There was Emma, a married woman now, no longer under this roof. Elsie would probably follow her next wedding season. And Caleb! He didn’t speak of his girl at all, but Fanny knew there was someone special in his life. Next year at this time, she would most likely be living here alone with her three younger ones.
The thought of so many turns in the road sent her over to pick Tommy up from his playtime on the floor and hold him close. He chortled as she rained kisses over his chubby cheek. “Meine liebe,” she cooed, and he answered with sweet gurgled words.
“You’re all getting so big,” Fanny said as she sat in a rocker with Tommy in her lap.
“Not me, Mamm,” Beth said. “I’m still little.”
Fanny chuckled. “That’s right.”
“Someone’s coming!” Will announced, and he and Beth hurried to the window of the front room. “It’s Elsie and Caleb.”
“It’s about time they got home. Our dinner is almost done.” She peeked in the oven to check the Yummasetti. The hot gust that emerged from the oven smelled of beef and mushrooms and melted cheese. This casserole was a favorite, and a go
od one to ward off the cold from inside.
The kitchen door opened to Elsie and Caleb, who had greetings for all.
“Our hard workers have returned,” Fanny said cheerfully.
“I just spoke to Zed,” Caleb told Fanny. “He’s still working, but doesn’t want to stop to eat. I told him we’d come out to check his progress after supper.”
“He’s working late today,” Fanny said as she added chopped apples to a bowl of slivered carrots.
“Finishing up the floor, I think.”
Meanwhile, Elsie was entertaining the children with tales of her day. Some travelers from Australia had come into the Country Store, and Elsie explained that they had opposite seasons because they lived below the equator. “For them it’s springtime, while we’re going into winter,” she said.
“Did you tell them the frost is on the pumpkin?” asked Will.
“I didn’t, but I don’t know if they have pumpkins in Australia. But they do have kangaroos and koalas. Do you know what they look like?”
“I’ll find a picture.” Will and Beth went to the bookshelf to find an animal book, while Caleb and Elsie washed up for dinner.
Everyone enjoyed a plate of steaming casserole and an autumn salad made with carrots, raisins, mayonnaise, and the last of the apples. Little Tommy worked intently to pick up some noodles and chunks of ground beef between his fingers, though some of the food fell on his bib. When Fanny turned to him at the end of the meal, he had dozed off in his high chair.
“Fast asleep!” Fanny said, getting up to get a wet cloth.
Elsie giggled. “He’s got a Yummasetti beard. But he looks so peaceful. Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep right in my chair.”
“Me, too,” Caleb agreed, straightening his tall frame. “Of course, I’d need someone to carry me to bed, then.”
“No one can carry you! You’re too big,” Will exclaimed.
“I’ll carry you,” Beth offered.
“You sure about that?”
“Ya. I’m strong.”
Fanny smiled at their banter as she wiped Tommy clean and lifted him from the high chair. This one would get a good night’s sleep. Her shoes treaded lightly on the floor as she took him into her bedroom and paused at the bassinet. Tommy was heavy in her arms, and he had gotten so big she couldn’t really contain him in her arms anymore.
Her baby boy wasn’t a baby anymore. His little round face had thinned. Gone were the folds of skin under his chin, where she used to bury her lips to plant kisses.
“Oh, Tommy. I think you’ve outgrown your cradle.”
Frozen in place, she bit her lower lip. She’d always considered herself to be a practical woman, but lately, when she had to acknowledge that it was time for a change, Fanny stalled.
“I don’t want to give you up,” she said softly. “But a mother really has no choice.” Wasn’t that how the saying went? If a mother did her job well, she lost it. Shifting the boy in her arms, she turned away and headed up the stairs. Well, at least she had a good eighteen years or so until this youngest son of hers rode off with his bride.
“You’re going to like your new bed in here with your brother and sister,” she said as she brought him into the room shared by Beth and Will. The crib in the corner was larger than the bassinet downstairs, a better fit—at least until Tommy started climbing out of it.
Settled in the crib, her boy looked peaceful and content with his belly up and his arms stretched out on the mattress. Fanny might have stood there watching him sleep if she hadn’t heard male voices outside. She went to the window and saw Caleb and Zed talking outside the carriage house. Zed probably wanted to get home, and here she was, mooning over her little one. She kissed Tommy’s forehead, grabbed a coat and lantern, and headed out.
The brisk cold air of the November night helped to clear her head as she hurried to the carriage house. The new windows glowed from the kerosene lantern inside, and even in the pale moonlight she could see how much this building had been transformed over the past few months. Zed and Caleb had decided to nail the old carriage doors shut and seal around them to minimize drafts. That work had been done, and Zed had put a new coat of white paint on the door trim, which made the whole building seem clean and new.
Fanny opened the side door and paused on the threshold at the sight of a smooth wood floor. It was quite a change since she’d peeked in a few days ago. “The old dirt floor … it’s gone.” She blinked up at the two men. “Zed … you did this part so quickly, and what a difference the floor makes. It looks like a house now.”
“It’s just a subfloor,” Caleb pointed out. “We’ll need to cover it with linoleum or hardwood.”
“Ah, but we’ve come so far.” Fanny smiled up at Zed with gratefulness in her heart. She would not let Caleb’s concerns taint her joy over the way Zed had breathed life into this sagging building. “You’ve done good work here, Zed, from top to bottom.”
The answering glimmer in his dark eyes told her that he, too, was pleased with the results of his handiwork. “The subfloor went faster than I expected. It does make the place look more like a home for people than for buggies. But I wanted to talk to you about the next steps. It’s time to make some choices about the finishes.” Zed picked up a notepad from his worktable and handed it to Fanny. “Here’s a list of the materials we’ll need. The floors and walls have been measured, and that list includes the half walls you want to build over here to make a separate area for each bed.”
“So we need to get some prices to see what we can afford?” Fanny said, scanning the list.
Zed nodded. “This is the expensive part. The flooring and walls, the plumbing and tile for a bathroom and kitchen area. None of that is cheap.”
“We have some money set aside,” Fanny said, though she wasn’t quite sure it would stretch far enough.
“I talked to Dutch at the lumberyard. He’ll give us the builder’s discount, which will help.” As he spoke Zed slid his hammer out of the loop on his belt and bent down to the floor to drive in a nail. He moved in one fluid motion, as if he had been born swinging a hammer. “And I haven’t asked anyone yet, but I think some folks would make donations. People are looking forward to having a birth center here. I think they’d be happy to pitch in to make it a reality.”
“But we’re not a charity,” Caleb said, hands on his hips. “We can’t go begging for money.”
“No one’s going begging.” Fanny lowered the supply list. “But if we put the word out that the center will open sooner if we get help, I think folks will lend a hand. The last few times I went to a quilting bee, all the women wanted to hear about the progress we were making on the building. This is important to women around here. They want their center.”
Caleb shook his head. “Asking for money … it doesn’t feel right.”
“You won’t have to ask,” Fanny said. “Zed and I will spread the word. Some of the women at quiltings have already told me their husbands would be willing to help. Lovina Stoltzfus said Aaron has the time, and there’s Gabe and his brothers. And Bishop Samuel favors our plan to build a center. A few words from him would go a long way in letting people in the community know what it’s going to take to open our doors.” She felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “And it’s not money we’re after. People might be able to donate a cot or a stove. Some of the women could help me sew curtains.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” Zed turned to Caleb. “It’s not just about asking people for charity. It’s about pulling the community together. Folks feel good inside when they do for others.”
Moving the lantern to cast light on the cavernous space, Fanny felt the possibilities in this building. “It reminds me of the Bible passage. ‘Ask and you shall receive. Seek and you shall find.’ I think this is one time when the Almighty would want us to ask around.”
The lines in Caleb’s brow smoothed as his worry gave way to resolve. “All right, then. We’ll see if anyone wants to pitch in.”
While Zed continued to talk with Caleb, Fanny tested the new floor, placing one foot in front of the other. Not a single creak or soft spot! Excitement fluttered in her chest when she imagined this renovation completed and occupied by mothers in labor. God willing, her own daughters would be here someday, giving birth to their own babies. Emma might even be here within the next year! What a blessing this birth center would be. It was really going to happen, and all because of Zed.
She kept her gaze on the floor to keep herself from staring at him in wonder. He was more than a handyman; he had a talent for building dreams and soothing the heart. Gott had blessed them in so many ways when He’d sent Zed here, and day by day she was growing attached to him. He was a good friend, almost like family. Too bad folks in the community didn’t understand their relationship. Fanny knew if she spent too much time talking to him after church or at a fund-raiser, people would gossip. Ya, those older single women like Dorcas watched Zed like a hawk.
This was a time to seek gelassenheit, the resignation to bend to Gott’s will. A good Amish person needed to surrender inside and be content with calm, simple ways.
Geh lessa, Zed had reminded her.
Breathing in the smell of newly cut wood, she thanked Gott for the joy in her heart and the secret friend she had found in Zed.
17
Dressed in blue scrubs and a mask, Meg sat silently in the Pittsburgh hospital’s operating room and tried to channel love and strength through Terri Fanelli’s icy hand as she gave it another squeeze. It was the last day of November, a bleak day all around.
“I didn’t want this,” Terri sobbed, a tear rolling down her cheek.
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