“No. See how it’s taken from down low?” Delia pointed Emma’s focus back to the picture. “Technology has gotten much better since this was taken, but Brad basically put it on video mode and then I pulled several still frames from it for this album.”
She didn’t really understand, but, still, she nodded as Delia turned to the next page and the series of pictures showing Ruby blowing on the dandelion. In the first shot, Ruby’s eyes were open; in the second shot, one was closed and the other was peeking out at Brad with such a silly expression Emma couldn’t help but laugh. And in the third picture, Ruby’s eyes were closed and dandelion fluff scattered in the air.
“I wish I could know what she wished for that day,” Emma whispered as much to herself as Delia.
“While I can’t know for certain, I might have a guess.” Delia pointed to the folder on the table. “Shall we take a look at that now?”
Emma looked down at the album and the handful of pages that still remained. “There are more pictures, yah?”
“There are. And we can get back to those. But this will speak to what I said earlier, in the kitchen. About Brad keeping Ruby part of things with the company even now. Even after . . . everything.”
Sliding the album across her lap and onto the cushion to her left, Emma turned her attention to Delia and the folder with the same Harper Construction logo used on Brad’s truck. “I have seen these at the office. Near Miss Sue Ellen’s desk.”
“You’re right. Only those folders are different from this one in that they’re missing one very special floor plan.” Flipping the folder open, Delia pulled out a letter with the same Harper Construction logo across the top and set it aside in favor of the drawing on the next page. “Floor plans are what customers look at to decide which house suits their needs best—meaning, does it have the right number of rooms, does it have the bay window they want, or the office they need, et cetera.
“Each floor plan has a name to make it easier for people to reference. Like these ones.” Delia took out a handful of floor plans and splayed them across the top of the folder. “The Emerald is a two-story with a bonus room over the garage. The Sapphire is a one-and-a-half story home with a formal dining room and a second-floor laundry. The Amethyst is a ranch with a split bedroom setup, meaning, the master suite is on one side of the home and the other two bedrooms are located on the other end. The Turquoise is a ranch-style home with a mother-in-law suite in the basement that can be accessed through a separate entrance, depending on the lot’s grade. And then there’s The Diamond. It’s the one with all the bells and whistles.”
Emma drew back. “Why would people want bells and whistles in their house? That would make it hard to sleep.”
Delia’s laugh brought a smile to Emma’s lips, too. “That’s just an expression, dear. It means that it has all of the extras that people want—the best of the best, so to speak.” Feature by feature, Delia moved her finger around the floor plan, tapping out each item she listed. “Planning desk, center island, farmhouse sink in the kitchen, wet bar in the living room for entertaining, double bay windows in the dining room, French doors with alcove in office, switchback staircase to access the second floor, Jack and Jill bathroom between bedrooms number three and four, with each of those bedrooms having its own separate alcove for a sink, the second bedroom having its own bath, and, of course, the master suite with built-in fireplace, his and her large walk-in closets, separate tub and shower in the master bath, et cetera.”
“There are many things in this house,” Emma murmured.
“There’s also a finished lower level.” Delia’s finger moved down the page to another set of drawings. “With a media room, a game room, another wet bar, a fifth bedroom, full bath, and storage space. It really is quite a house. I think they’ve built six or seven of these so far since Brad added the plan to the packet.”
Emma smiled and nodded politely and then slid her attention back to the album. “Could we look at the rest of the pictures now?”
“Wait. I haven’t gotten to the whole reason I’m showing this to you in the first place. The one thing you won’t see in the packets at the office.” Delia restacked the floor plans, set them off to the side, and reached into the folder once again.
Seconds later, Emma was staring down at a floor-plan-like drawing and trying to remember how to breathe. “This . . . this says The Ruby,” she whispered, post-swallow.
“It does.”
“But . . .” At a loss for words, Emma simply stared at Delia and waited.
“That’s the drawing—or, rather, a copy of the drawing Ruby wanted to be the first house Imagine Homes built.”
Emma recognized some rudimentary features thanks to the previous floor plans, but still she was grateful when Delia’s finger took over the tour. “Ruby didn’t want a long front hallway. She wanted people to feel welcome the moment they stepped inside. So that’s why the door opens into the family room. She wanted lots of windows because she told Brad she felt most at peace when she was looking out at the wide-open fields and the sunny sky.”
“I . . . I like that, too,” Emma murmured.
Nodding, Delia moved on, her finger moving to the right. “She wanted a large kitchen.”
“To bake in?”
“To sit with family and visit,” Delia corrected. “And she wanted lots of windows in the kitchen, too. That way you could nap in your cradle where it was warm and sunny, and she could be nearby, preparing lunch.”
Emma drew back. “Me? But I was not born!”
“You were on the way when she made this drawing, dear.”
“But—”
“Your pending arrival factored into almost everything here.” Moving her finger toward the sketch of the second floor, Delia pointed to each of the four rooms. “She wanted all of the rooms to be together, and she wanted them simple. She said bedrooms were for sleeping. The rest of the house was for being together.”
Emma’s gaze skipped back to the first floor and the family room that seemed almost notched in two. “What is that line, there?”
“For some reason, Ruby wanted the front room to be quite large, but Brad did not agree. He said it was wasted space for the everyday and suggested a divider of sorts that could divide the space but allow it to be open and large for”—Delia shrugged—“special parties or whatever it was that made Ruby want such a large room.”
“It is what she was used to,” Emma murmured. “Amish homes have a large room that is used for hosting church. Each family only hosts a few times a year, but the room must be large enough to accommodate benches with many people when they do.”
If Emma’s words registered at all, they didn’t last long as Delia’s finger jumped to the front of the house. “Ruby also wanted a wide front porch, one that wrapped around the front and sides of the house. She wanted to be able to knit or quilt in a chair, or simply sit on a comfortable porch swing, and be able to see you wherever you were. And these boxes here? On the first-floor windows? Those are flower boxes.”
It was hard to picture an actual home when all she could see was lines, but somehow she could. The simple house with a wide front porch and rocking chairs . . . The view of a pretty summer sky from inside the front room . . . The faces from the mantel-topped picture looking down at a newborn Emma sleeping soundly in a cradle by a kitchen window . . . Ruby’s loving smile directed on no one but—
Fisting the tears from her eyes with her left hand, Emma pushed the drawing and folder back onto Delia’s lap with her right. “I need you to take me back to Blue Ball. Now.”
“Take you back? But-but why?” Delia closed the folder and tossed it onto the coffee table. “I thought we were having a nice time! I thought I could make you dinner, we could try your bread and my pastries, and we could look at the rest of the photo album! I thought, too, that if you were still here around seven, you’d get to see Brad for a little while before it was time to take you back to the farm. I mean, I know you’ll be together tomorrow, but it’s go
ing to be such a stressful day in a lot of ways and it might be nice to have a little quiet, carefree time first.”
“I need to go back.”
Delia’s whole being sagged. “Emma, dear, if I did something to upset you, it wasn’t intentional. Maybe I should’ve waited and let Brad show you your mother’s drawing, but you were asking so many questions about Ruby and the company that—”
“Please. I need to go back,” Emma insisted. “I need to pack my things.”
For a moment, the silence born on her words was so deafening, Emma actually pressed her hand to her chest in an effort to quiet her pounding heart. But it didn’t matter. Delia’s answering gasp drowned out all. “Pack your things? Emma, does this mean you’re ready to start your new life here? With your father and me?”
“Yah. . . . I mean, yes.”
Chapter 21
She watched Delia’s car disappear from view and then turned toward home, the anger she’d managed to keep in check during the ride to Miller’s Pond propelling her forward. Step by step, she made her way past the first of four farms, the insistent bleating of the Schrocks’ goats little more than background noise for the images cycling their way through her thoughts.
* Stopping at the grave before school on her birthdays . . .
* Looking over her shoulder as she added the latest trinket to the bag . . .
* Watching her classmates play at recess and never being asked to join . . .
* Always doing more than asked at home and still never getting a heartfelt smile from Mamm in return . . .
* Standing in Brad’s office, staring into eyes that looked just like hers . . .
* Flipping through photographs, trying to memorize everything about two people who, for all intents and purposes, were strangers, yet also her parents . . .
“Good evening, Emma.”
Startled off the edge of the road, Emma looked up to find Levi Fisher smiling back. “Levi! I did not hear you coming!”
“I see that.” He tugged Hoofer to a stop beside Emma and readjusted his hat. “Soon the sun will be down and it will be quite cold to be out walking.”
“I am not out walking.”
Dragging his hand down his face, Levi sat back in his seat. “You are out, and you are walking.”
“Yah, I am walking. But it is only to get to Dat’s farm.”
“I could give you a ride if you would like.”
“But you live the other way,” Emma said, pointing in the very direction they’d both come.
“I do.”
She waited for him to say more, but when he didn’t, she took the hand he held out to her and climbed into place beside him on the buggy seat. “It is very kind of you to drive me home. Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure.”
With a quick, yet firm jiggle of the reins, Hoofer began to walk, the mare’s gentle pace and sure steps a stark contrast to the anger Emma was just four farms away from unleashing. Still, she took advantage of the quiet that fell around them to steady her breath and try to unfurl her fingers from the fist she couldn’t seem to relax no matter how hard she tried.
“Do you see that cow? There?” Levi guided her attention toward a Holstein grazing in the Troyers’ field. At her nod, he broke out in a grin. “Found it sitting outside our front porch week before last. Came out after lunch and there it was. Staring back at me like I was the one who didn’t belong.”
“But you live more than a half mile that way,” she said, hooking her thumb over her shoulder. “Why would a cow go so far from home?”
“Dat said it must have smelt Mamm’s cooking.”
Her laugh mingled with Levi’s only to fade away as he continued, his words taking her on a journey past his front porch and a neighbor’s cow to his dat’s fields. “The rocks have been cleared from the fields and soon we will begin the planting. The days will be long when we do, so I am trying to help Miss Lottie with some repairs now, while I can.”
“Repairs? What kind of repairs?”
“The floor in her living room has many creaks, and one of the railings on her front porch is not tight.”
“Do you like to do such things?” she asked.
“Yah. I like to work with my hands. Perhaps, if Miss Lottie would like, I can build a shed for her gardening tools since she does not have a barn. I could make it look like a small house. I think Miss Lottie would like that, yah?”
“I think she would like that very much.”
“Did it help to speak with her the other night? You were so quiet when I picked you up, I did not want to interrupt your thoughts with questions.”
Something about his voice, his very demeanor, snapped her attention back to his face. “If I did not thank you for bringing me to Miss Lottie’s, I am sorry. I—”
“You thanked me, Emma. Many times.”
“Good.” She looked again at the fields and breathed in the cold winter air. “And yah, speaking with Miss Lottie was nice.”
“That is good, though you were missed at the hymn sing.” This time, her laugh was void of anything resembling humor. “I do not know who would miss me. Mary was with Leroy, so there would be no one to speak to, no one to miss me.”
“I missed you.” With a gentle pull, he slowed Hoofer’s pace still further. “No one makes the kind of oatmeal cookies you make.”
“You still didn’t like Liddy’s cookies?”
“It is as I have told you, Emma, Liddy Mast makes oatmeal cookies, but she does not make them like yours,” Levi corrected. “No one does. Not even Mamm.”
She felt her mouth growing slack and covered it with a quick swallow as, once again, he continued. “But it is more than just oatmeal cookies that I missed. I missed looking over to check on Mary and seeing your smile. It is something I look to see at every hymn sing now.”
“My . . . my smile?” she echoed.
“Yah.”
She saw Levi’s mouth still moving, knew he was still saying things she probably wanted to hear, but at that moment there was only one voice she heard.
“There were so many things I loved about Ruby, but her smile? It was the best. Distracting as all get-out, but wow.”
Brad had liked Ruby’s smile....
“I missed hearing you laugh when Mary said something funny. It does not matter who I am talking to or what I am doing when I hear that sound. I always stop and listen.” Levi’s own soft laugh rumbled past his lips. “And I missed watching that little jump you do when your team wins at volleyball.”
She stared at Levi. “I jump?”
“Yah. When you hit the shot that wins.”
“Ruby would do this little jump when she was excited about something—bubbles, skating, it didn’t matter. If she was happy, she did her little jump.”
Emma pressed her hands to her cheeks in an effort to cool their building heat. “I did not know I did such a thing.”
“You do.”
In lieu of words she didn’t have, Emma looked out at the dusky fields, the familiar landscape calming her nerves. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she breathed in the scent of thawing earth and imagined the way it would change as the temperatures warmed and crops began to grow.
“I spent the day with Delia,” she whispered. “She is my English grossmudder.”
If he was surprised by her admission, he kept it to himself. Instead, he guided Hoofer to the edge of the road and brought the buggy to a stop. “Was it a good visit?” he asked, resting the reins atop his legs.
“It was. We baked together. I showed her how to make my bread and apple butter—” She sucked in the rest of the word, only to wave away the worry. “No, it is okay. It still has many hours. It will be fine.”
“I like apple butter,” Levi said.
Something about the earnestness in his voice made her giggle. “I must bring you some.”
“Yah.” He fiddled with the reins for a moment before tucking them to the side in favor of shifting his full attention to her face. “You did not look like
Emma when I saw you back there.”
She started to protest but stopped as the reality she’d been denying long enough, pushed itself to the forefront of her thoughts. “I am Emma—this Emma—because of Mamm and Dat. They raised me to be Amish because they are Amish. But Brad is my birth dat. He should have raised me. He wanted me. They both wanted me—Brad and Ruby. But Ruby died having me, and Mamm and Dat told Brad I died, too. If they had not done that, he would have raised me. If she’d lived, I would be English. If he’d known I’d lived, I would be English.. . . I would have gone to an English school, maybe even college.... Maybe I would cook in a fancy restaurant the way Delia said.... Maybe I would know important people and travel to many places in the world.... I would not wear a kapp”—she pointed to her head—“and I would drive a car instead of a buggy.”
“Do you want to go to college and cook in a fancy restaurant?” Levi asked.
“I don’t know. I have never thought of such things. College is for English, not Amish. Being a chef in a fancy restaurant is for English, not Amish. Traveling the world to see many places and many countries is for English, not Amish.” She took in the streaks of mauve and pink in the western sky and tried to gather her words into something neat and tidy. “I am only Amish because of lies. If there had been no death and no lies, I would be English.”
“When you were little, yah. But you chose to be baptized,” Levi reminded. “That was no one’s choice but your own.”
“It was made because I was not shown another life.”
“That is what Rumspringa does. It shows you another life.”
“It shows another life to one who is Amish. But it is not the same—not as it would be if the English world is the only world I ever knew.” She sat with her own words for a moment, only to shrug them away as the reason she was there, in his buggy instead of eating dinner with Delia, pushed its way to the front of her thoughts. “Ruby drew a house for us to live in.”
“She drew a house?”
“Yah.”
“Tell me.”
A Daughter's Truth Page 21