The Secret Keeper

by Beverly Lewis

  “So if they marry, he’ll be an instant daddy.”

  “Who knew?”

  Jenny smiled. Cameron had been too busy to see her since she’d landed back here. But she could easily overlook that. Things were pretty much the way they had always been between her and her brother—nebulous. Don’t bother me, and I won’t bother you. Still, she hoped to change that, too.

  “Do you want to drive up to Mystic with me sometime?” Kiersten said she’d read online about an amazing boutique there. “Or are you still clinging to the pure and simple life?”

  Jenny glanced down at her navy blue skirt and cream-colored sweater. “Guess some things never change.”

  “Why did you come home, sis?”

  Jenny sighed, not comfortable with the idea of rehearsing the whole excruciating mess. Besides, she was sure her sister was just filling the spaces, uneasy with natural silence. Kiersten wasn’t the type to be interested in old souls. She was all about the next cool dress shop or casino restaurant—anything “hoppin’ or hot.”

  “Maybe it’s more about why I ever left,” Jenny said bravely.

  “Okay.”

  “And sure, I’ll go shopping with you in Mystic.”

  Kiersten squinted her eyes. “You will?”

  “Name the day,” she said, committing to stepping out of her comfort zone. It was about time.

  That evening, an unexpected call came in from Rebecca Lapp. Jenny was delighted to hear from her—Rebecca’s voice was sweet music to her ears. They exchanged a bit of small talk before Jenny asked about Marnie and Naomi . . . and Ella Mae.

  Then Rebecca’s voice turned tense. “Things happened so abruptly when ya left, I never had a chance to say a proper good-bye.” She wanted to let Jenny know that things had worked themselves out. “Ach, my dear girl, I couldn’t bear thinkin’ you’d left here because of me.” She sounded pitiful. “It wasn’t your fault . . . not at all.” She paused for a beat. “Honestly, I put you in an awful tough situation, askin’ you to keep what you knew from the brethren.”

  “Rebecca, I—”

  “No, listen . . . I failed you in doing so—didn’t measure up as your mentor.” She continued, explaining that she never should’ve gone against the Bann. “I’ve made things right with the bishop; I wanted you to know.”

  Jenny realized once more how painful this had been for both of them. “I’m so glad you called.” She didn’t go on to tell her how much she missed talking to her, or any of that. Best not, as Rebecca might say. Besides, what’s the point?

  She changed the subject and mentioned how busy she was now with her family, and that she’d started working again while living at her parents’ place. “Please tell Marnie hi for me, and Samuel, too.”

  “I’ll be glad to do that. But just so ya know, things ain’t the same here without ya. All of us miss you!”

  “You’re so kind. Thanks for calling, Rebecca. Denki, I mean.”

  They said good-bye and hung up.

  More than a week later, Jenny received a letter from Andrew Lapp. He wrote that he was still praying for her, and that he understood why she had to leave so quickly. If you truly believed you wouldn’t pass your Proving, you figured you might as well not wait around, jah?

  Reading his considerate words brought her a strange comfort. And she was relieved that, despite his disappointment at her going, he did not seem upset. She knew it was so when she read the last line of his letter: I pray earnestly that you will be happy in the English world, if that is where God wants you to be, my dear Jenny. The idea that he still considered her “his” on any level took her by surprise, and she found her thoughts returning to him many times throughout that day and the days that followed. She felt astonished that Andrew was so selfless, releasing her back to the modern world without him. His unexpected letter was a soothing salve for her heart . . . yet she could not help wishing she had not left so much behind in Hickory Hollow.

  The Monday after St. Patrick’s Day, a new shipment of antiques arrived at the shop where Jenny had begun working full-time again. Her boss was over in the corner talking to the dealer when Jenny happened to overhear a mention of Lancaster County, and she made a mental note to look through the items, just for fun, before heading home that evening. If she saw anything she liked, she might use her employee discount.

  She finished helping several more customers, finding it curious how fashionable the sleek look of the ’50s and ’60s was to young couples—pole lamps and Danish furniture in particular. It was fun for her to snatch up the occasional find, as well, thinking how nice it might look in a new apartment, since she’d sold everything. She’d had her eye on one residence in particular for the past week or so, but wanted to be frugal rather than impulsive.

  Near the closing hour, Jenny took her time to study each of the antiques from Lancaster County—sideboards, corner hutches, and an assortment of unmatched cane chairs. She turned over one of the chairs and saw the name E. M. Zook, and for a split second wondered if Ella Mae had perhaps passed away. But there were so many Zooks in Amish country. “Oodles,” Rebecca had mentioned early on, also listing some of the other popular surnames—Stoltzfus, King, Fisher, Beiler, and Lapp.

  Thinking again of Ella Mae, Jenny was sure Marnie would have said something when they last talked by phone, weeks ago. Surprisingly, her friend had not moved to Katie Fisher’s, telling instead of Roy’s friendly conversation with Bishop John. “This changed everything for us,” Marnie said, sounding so happy. She and Roy were looking forward to taking baptism classes together next summer, prior to their November wedding. “We’re joining church here in Hickory Hollow, of all things!”

  Jenny decided to purchase one of the old chairs, and her dad agreed to pick it up. And all the rest of the evening she wondered what E. M. stood for. Eli Mathias? Ephraim Marcus?

  In the end, she preferred to think the chair had somehow been linked to the Old Wise Woman. The beautiful chair, along with the wall hanging Marnie had sent her and Andrew Lapp’s cards, notes, and gifts were her only keepsakes. Along with my unforgettable memories.

  Chapter 50

  Another two weeks passed, and Jenny was happy to keep her hands and mind busy while her heart journeyed here and there. Well, not really, she thought. Only to one place.

  She tried to keep her focus on her present surroundings the Friday after Easter, when her father had planned their first ever father-daughter outing. They settled in at an inviting restaurant, Skipper’s Dock on Water Street, in beautiful Stonington Borough. It was an hour before sunset, and Dad must have pulled strings to get a perfect harbor-side view for their leisurely meal.

  She felt relaxed enough at this rare event, having taken her mother’s suggestion to wear one of her own long, white sleeveless dresses from the wardrobe. It was a comfortable yet dressy outfit, complete with a black bolero with white piping. Mom had remarked that she looked like a million bucks. Oh yes, exactly what I was going for, Jenny thought, laughing at the paradox.

  Her father was impeccable in navy slacks and a white oxford shirt and tie with a tan sports jacket.

  “I’ve been thinking about this evening for quite a while,” he said over appetizers of stuffed Stonington clams swimming in butter.

  She leaned back in her chair, taking in the waterfront, the piers dotting the fading red sky, and the wail of seabirds. It was hard to imagine being in such a lovely spot, let alone with her dad.

  What’s gotten into him?

  “It’s been wonderful having you home,” Dad said, his eyes searching her face. “And I think you’ll be surprised when I say this, but I’d like to apologize for letting my work crowd out my time with you, Jenny.”

  “Dad—”

  “I’m serious.”

  He smiled, but there was a hint of something else, something other than joy. Momentarily, he looked toward the wharf, as if second-guessing, then back at her. “I don’t think you’re all that happy here.”

  She was surprised he’d picked up on h
er private reveries. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t—”

  “Jenny, no . . . don’t be. More than anything, I want your happiness, just as your mother does.” He paused again. “And you know what, honey? I think you might be right about the Amish . . . the appreciation you’ve always had for the culture. I really don’t think you belong here, in this crazy, modern, stress-filled world.”

  Jenny considered this as the waiter came to remove their small plates, then left. “You must think I’m still Plain inside.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  She didn’t want to spoil this special evening. “You must love me a lot, Daddy,” she whispered, not fully realizing it until now.

  He reached across the table and took her hand. “Enough to let you go, if we must.”

  Dad’s words reminded her of Andrew’s first letter after she returned home.

  “There’s something else,” her father said, glancing toward the water. “In many ways, losing you from the family for those two months opened my eyes.”

  “Dad, I . . .”

  He shook his head and reached for his water glass, and she knew he wasn’t interested in belaboring the point. He’d said what was on his heart and she appreciated it.

  When the main course arrived, Jenny and her father ate heartily, enjoying the scrumptious seafood. And Jenny had much to ponder, realizing again that she had been too impulsive, leaving Lancaster County so quickly. Yet it wasn’t as if she could simply return there whenever she wished.

  Or could she? Her heart beat faster at the exhilarating thought.

  Marnie flew down the stairs to the kitchen, filled with the rich aroma of baking chocolate pies. Her sisters were still playing on the lawn this springtime Saturday, making themselves scarce while Marnie and her mother finished setting a pretty table. Afterward, they chopped onions for the baked ham supper. It wouldn’t be long now and all their guests would be arriving.

  Feeling like a flibbertigibbet, Marnie dashed back to the sitting room near the large kitchen and ran her fingers over the sideboard’s surface for the second time. She smoothed the checkerboard-patterned afghan on the back of the upholstered chair in the corner and glanced out the window.

  Her heart leaped and she leaned closer, her nose nearly bumping the windowpane. “Quick, Mamm . . . tell Daed she’s just arrived! Ask him to bring Posey along, too, on a leash! Oh, Mamm, she’s here!”

  Jenny stepped out of the taxi, paid the cabbie, and left her suitcases there on the driveway. She had no idea how well she would be received by the Amish community as a whole, if at all, although Marnie had clearly rejoiced when Jenny had written with her decision.

  Presently, she spotted Marnie dashing around the side of the house to come this way, a bright smile on her sweet face. And then Peggy, her mother, appeared, accompanied by brawny Chester and Posey, who barked and wagged her spunky tail.

  “Hullo, liewi Freind!” Marnie called as she flung her arms around Jenny.

  Dear friend . . . Jenny felt the same about Marnie.

  Stepping back, Marnie looked her over with delight. “Well, aren’t you the cutest Amish girl in Hickory Hollow! All you’re missin’ is the prayer Kapp, ya know.”

  Jenny smiled, catching her meaning. “I brought my entire Amish wardrobe back with me.”

  “Oh, Jenny! Everyone’s been fussing ’bout you since we heard you were returning—I mean just everyone.” Marnie grinned, tilting her head and shielding her eyes from the sun. “But it was my idea to have a gathering here tonight. Hope that’s all right.”

  Chester greeted Jenny warmly, shaking her hand and holding the golden Lab up to show how much Posey had grown. “Seems you’ve been gone a long while, Jenny. Willkumm back.”

  Jenny accepted a hug from Marnie’s mother, all dressed up in her for-good dress and matching apron.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Peggy said. “We’re havin’ Easter dinner all over again, or so says Chester.” She laughed and looked up at her husband. “And some of your friends will be here . . . comin’ very soon.”

  Jenny could not believe the warm reception and assumed Marnie’s parents had humored their daughter with the plans for a special meal. Like Ella Mae did for me last Thanksgiving.

  “And someone else is here to see ya,” Marnie whispered and grinned, pointing toward the barn, where Andrew Lapp emerged. “Well, I guess I’d better leave ya be . . . for now.”

  Marnie followed her father, who had picked up Jenny’s suitcases and was carrying them up the driveway. Posey scampered along, close behind, and Marnie and her parents hurried toward the house as Andrew came to greet Jenny.

  “Quite a nice doin’s, jah?” He removed his straw hat and she saw the old mischief in his eyes. “Nearly everything but the fatted calf.”

  He’s right, she thought. I am a prodigal.

  The earthy fragrance of freshly plowed soil and the feeling of serenity she’d sorely missed swept over her. Once again, she appreciated how very special a place Hickory Hollow was. And always will be, she thought, enjoying the bright yellow forsythia bushes in full bloom.

  “Not much has changed since you left,” Andrew said. “But on the other hand, there are some surprising things happening.”

  She wondered what he meant. When he didn’t volunteer more, she let it go. Was he courting someone—was that the reason for the awkwardness between them? Or was he offended by her silence after she’d left? She hadn’t replied to his letters because she felt it was unfair and didn’t want to lead him to hope she was ever returning. Besides, she hadn’t the right to expect he’d wait for her, anyway. The fact that Andrew was even here this evening, welcoming her back as a friend, was a real surprise.

  ———

  Marnie wasn’t kidding. Nearly every Amish friend Jenny had made last fall came to supper that evening. Even Emmalyn Lapp appeared, a blend of beauty and skepticism, while they all milled about in the front room, waiting for the meal to be served. But it wasn’t long before Emmalyn came over to talk to Jenny. “I wondered if we’d scared ya off.” Emmalyn looked chagrined. “Well, if I did.”

  Jenny assured her otherwise. “I guess I had to return home to see how deeply Plain I really was.”

  Emmalyn gave her a smile. “Well, you sure weren’t here long enough to know for sure, were you . . . last time?”

  Jenny nodded agreeably. “Things will be different now; you’ll see.”

  Soon, Rebecca Lapp wandered over and gave Jenny a gentle hug. “You have no idea how I hoped and prayed you’d be back again, Jenny. And just so ya know, your room’s all redded up and waitin’ for you.”

  Jenny thanked her, grateful for the chance to reconcile their relationship during the rest of her Proving. “It meant so much to me when you called some months ago. And now . . . well, we’re on new footing, jah?” she added, and Rebecca nodded and smiled.

  Following the meal, the bishop and Mary lingered after everyone left, spending time alone with Jenny in the kitchen while Marnie and her parents and younger siblings scattered about the house. Bishop John read the Bible in English for Jenny’s benefit, and later prayed with her and Mary. It was comforting to receive this second welcome, unexpected as it was.

  Later, when it was appropriate, Jenny slipped in a comment about Katie Lapp Fisher. “She once told me that she was born fancy, considering her English genetic roots.” Jenny paused. “But Katie pointed out that while I was born to Englishers, my heart was naturally Plain, so to speak. I know this might sound strange, but—”

  “Not at all.” Mary shook her head. “I think I understand what Katie meant. And ya know, I believe she just might be right.”

  After a while, Marnie came into the kitchen and brought out more cake, but the bishop declined, saying they had to get home to relieve their niece Naomi, who was evidently more settled in the community, too. And Jenny was glad to hear it.

  After the Beilers headed home, Marnie offered to walk with Jenny down to Lapps’, helping to carry one of the suitcases. J
enny so enjoyed the sound of springtime insects. She smiled when Marnie forgot and slipped into Deitsch occasionally without thinking.

  Jenny was very surprised to hear that the bishop had recently permitted Katie Fisher to visit their own home. Not for a meal, but Katie and Mary had sat out on the porch and sipped iced meadow tea together. “I can’t tell ya what a turnabout this is,” Marnie added. “Nearly a miracle, really.”

  Jenny realized she’d missed out on quite a lot during a few months. “A very special reunion of true friends, jah?” she said, and Marnie wholeheartedly agreed.

  “Oh, Jenny, I’m ever so happy you’ve returned,” Marnie said as they observed the extravagant sunset and the way the clouds reflected the sprays of color.

  Slowly, as the brilliance began to fade, Jenny’s memory of the touching father-daughter dinner overlooking the harbor, and her father’s perceptive remarks, rose up in her mind. She embraced that particular sunset, too.

  Looking at Marnie, she blinked away tears as they turned into the Lapps’ lane. “It’s so wunnerbaar-gut to be back.”

  Chapter 51

  Awaking to darkness, Jenny yawned, and her first conscious thought was of being back at her parents’ guest cottage in Connecticut. Sleepily, she ran her hand over the embroidered edging of the pillowcase, wondering if it was the one she’d bought as a girl to surprise her mother. But her awareness kicked in when she heard the wonderful clip-clop-clip of a horse and buggy going up the road.

  Ah yes . . . jah! She stretched, raising her arms high over her head and bumping the headboard as the handmade quilt slipped away from her. Then she heard stirring in the hallway, and wanting to assist Rebecca with the hot breakfast, she rejected the urge to lie there between the crisp white sheets under the cozy bed coverings. Tossing them aside, she got up and fumbled for her slippers, remembering how chilly the wooden floor planks had been last December. But it was midspring now, and summertime hovered in the wings.