“I’m in no hurry to get back . . . now.”
A peaceful expression spread across Mammi’s face, and Marlena felt good about pledging more time. She still needs me.
———
Later, Marlena headed through one of the fields. The alfalfa was ready for its third cutting, and in the next big field over, thousands of cabbages were ready for harvest.
Out there alone with the soil, the air, and the sky, she pushed her way to the willow grove and let herself cry. She purposely rejected imagining Gordon’s drive home, fretting that Angela had cried all the way, nor did she wish to relive the scene in Mammi’s front room, where Angela had clearly been frightened of her own father. Dear little girl.
Looking over toward the Bitners’, Marlena knew she had to cling to Dawdi Tim’s wise words even as tears rolled down her cheeks. I mustn’t worry. I will be stronger once the storm is over.
Overhead, the willows swayed slightly. Like a heavenly green fountain, she thought as she watched Small Jay and his father harness one of their big road horses, working together at last.
She’d heard from Ellie that Boston’s wife had come to take him home to Virginia, and that Ellie would start up her sewing classes again next week. Maybe Mammi and I could go and make a wall hanging from the material in Angela’s little dresses. The classes, and the good fellowship, were something to look forward to, something to distract her from her grief.
Turning south, where the pond seemed to mingle with the nearest trees, Marlena walked toward the road. Someone was pushing a stroller, headed this way. Drawing closer, she saw Sarah Mast and quickly wiped her wet face with the back of her hand.
“Hullo there, friend,” Sarah called. “We meet again.” Then she must have realized that Marlena had been crying. “Are you all right?”
She put on a smile. “It’s been a hard day, is all.”
“Come, let’s walk together. By the way, this is my oldest brother’s baby, Lena Mae.”
Marlena moved toward the stroller and smiled for the wee girl, who grinned back at her. Just a little older than Angela. Tears came again, and she fell into step with Sarah, telling her about Angela Rose going home with her father and grandparents a little while ago.
“Oh, that was hard for ya. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, I knew it was comin’, but knowing didn’t make it any easier. What a wonderful thing, really, that Gordon was found alive.” It was good to talk to someone like Sarah and not have to hold back as she did when sharing with Mammi Janice, protecting her. “Honestly, I hardly know what to do with myself. Oh, there’s plenty of work ahead—I don’t mean that. It’s just that right about now, I’d be thinkin’ ahead to Angela’s supper in a few hours, ya know. Then we had a sweet ritual after family worship . . . her bath, and then I’d sing a hymn while she took her bottle, rocking and lovin’ her as best I could.” Marlena stopped her recitation for fear she’d start crying again.
“It’ll take time to make new daily patterns,” Sarah said gently. “Not that I know anything ’bout the kind of sadness you’re sufferin’.”
“Well, there’s actually more you don’t know. No one does, although I think my grandmother might suspect by now. And my parents surely know, too.” Actually, she thought, they must be relieved.
Sarah didn’t probe, instead just kept pushing the stroller up the hill, near fenced pastureland where mules and cows grazed. A farm stand stood nearby in all its late-summertime glory.
Testing the waters, Marlena said, “Have ya ever harbored a secret about a relationship?”
Sarah looked at her. “It’s been two years now, but jah, I suffered a heartache.”
Marlena pressed ahead and began to share her loss of Nat Zimmerman, keeping his name to herself. “I lost my beau because of my growing faith in the Lord . . . and because of Angela Rose. But I’d do it all over again . . . make the same choices, if I had the chance.”
Sarah shook her head, looking shocked. “You had to choose ’tween him and Angela Rose?”
“I know it sounds just awful. But that’s all over now. Besides, I love my little niece.”
“Well, ya must’ve loved your beau, too.”
“Sometimes I question what I felt for him, tellin’ the truth.” She confided in Sarah that she believed if he’d sincerely loved her, he’d never have put her in such a bind.
Sarah said she’d pray for her. “The Lord alone understands your former beau’s situation. And sees his heart.”
“I believe that. And I hold out no hope of getting back together, even now that Angela’s gone. We don’t see eye to eye spiritually anymore.”
“Sounds like you’ve made a clean break. You know your own mind, Marlena. Des gut.”
“My Dawdi Tim used to say, ‘Storms make a strong tree, just like trials make a strong Christian.’ ”
Sarah had tears in her eyes, too, as she reached for Marlena’s hand while gripping the stroller with the other. And they walked that way for a little while, a sweet comfort.
“My brother Luke’s taking our Ohio cousin to the train just now,” Sarah said, making small talk. “You may have seen her with me at Preachin’ the day you visited.”
“A tall brunette?”
“Jah, that’s Cora Sue. Sweetest girl, really. I wish she could stay longer than just summer’s end.”
Their cousin?
Luke’s hush-hush revelation resurfaced in Marlena’s mind. I must’ve been wrong about who he’s sweet on. But she breathed not a word to Sarah, wondering who the very fortunate young woman must be.
“Dat’s gonna teach me to drive the team,” Small Jay told his mother that afternoon before supper.
“To hitch up, too?”
“Says so.”
Mamma looked like she might burst. “Such gut news, jah?”
“I had to pinch myself on the way inside.” He showed his arm. “See here?”
“You’re becoming a young man, son.”
Like Boston had called him. He took off his straw hat and ran his fingers through his thick bangs, glad they’d grown out so Mamma could even them out just today. “Boston hardly ever used my nickname, ya know.”
“Maybe it’s time we all call ya by your given name.” Mamma’s thoughtful expression touched him. “If you’re ready.”
He considered that. “Well, I don’t feel so small no more.” He patted his chest. “If Dat thinks it’s all right, then Jake’s fine.” He thought then of Gracie Yoder and wondered if she’d ever referred to him as Small Jay to others. Does she even think of me? he wondered, recalling Boston’s comical aside about wearing the lost bow tie to market. To impress Gracie, maybe.
Truth was, that bow tie was long gone. Besides, you didn’t really need a bow tie or sugary-sweet words to catch a girl’s attention. How many times had he thought back to that wonderful-good moment at market? Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he hadn’t just dreamed it. Well, he hoped not. Oh, did he ever.
“Dat’s never ever called you Small Jay,” Mamma was saying, “so I guess it’s up to your sisters and me to catch up, ain’t so?”
He was suddenly full of love for dear Mamma and mighty glad no one was around to see him go and give her a hug. Something he told himself he’d never do again. Grown men don’t hug their mothers, he knew.
Then Jake Bitner straightened to his full height, turned, and headed toward the stable, where his work was waiting. And Dat, too.
Marlena considered heading back to Ellie’s to set a time for returning the baby furniture, once she’d washed everything down good. But Sarah wanted to stop at one of the farm stands, and they stood and visited for longer than they’d intended. Now it was time to hurry home to help Mammi finish making supper.
As it turned out, Sarah caught a ride with her father, who’d seen her with the stroller and stopped to pick up both her and the baby in the family buggy. Abram Mast waved cordially at Marlena.
“I’ll come over and see ya again soon,” Sarah said as they rode away.
/> Marlena waved until Sarah was out of sight; she so appreciated her friendship. Walking back toward Mammi’s, she hoped she wouldn’t have disturbed dreams tonight. Sighing, she realized anew that Angela Rose wouldn’t be waiting for her with sweet drooly smiles when Marlena walked into the kitchen.
O Father, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. . . .
Chapter 40
In an attempt to soothe their sadness, Marlena awakened early the next morning to make waffles and bacon. She didn’t need to ask if her grandmother had slept well; she could see by the deep lines beneath her eyes that she hadn’t. As for herself, Marlena was anxious to wash down the crib and haul it over to Ellie’s. It had stood all night in her room as a shadowy reminder of the baby she’d grown to love . . . and lost. Each time she’d rolled over, she had to turn away, heartbroken by the sight of it.
Neither she nor Mammi spoke of Angela as they ate, though Marlena could think of nothing else. Did Gordon feed her the rice cereal she loves? Is she getting to know her father? Is she still crying?
Every imaginable question crowded in, and she tried not to glance at the spot where the high chair had been. Last evening, she’d taken time to clean it, then set it out on the porch, thinking she could easily make it fit in Mammi’s big trunk to deliver it to Ellie.
The telephone rang, startling them. “Who’d be callin’ this early?” Marlena said, reaching for the phone. “Hullo, Martin residence.”
“Yes, hello, is this Marlena Wenger?”
“Who’s callin’?”
“It’s Gordon Munroe.”
“Oh, of course.” Does he want to share something about Angela Rose . . . maybe an update?
“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a moment, please?”
“Is everything all right?”
He paused, and she could hear Angela whimpering in the background. “It’s obvious my daughter misses you very much.”
“And I miss her, too. Oh, you have no idea.”
“Last night, I stayed up reading a package of letters Luella had written to me. They arrived at my parents’ address . . . sent there when I was classified as MIA.” He stopped again, drawing a breath. “Marlena, I’d like to talk to you about one letter in particular.”
She glanced at Mammi, then turned to look out the window. “All right.”
“Not now, though . . . not by phone. I’d like to drive back down there today if it will suit you.”
She heard the urgency in his deep voice. “Jah, that’s fine.”
He thanked her and said good-bye.
“Ach, mighty strange,” she told Mammi after she’d hung up. “Gordon’s comin’ to talk to me ’bout one of Luella’s love letters.”
“Well, isn’t that something.”
“I should say so.” She couldn’t guess in the least what was up, or what she could possibly offer.
When the doorbell rang out front, Marlena was busy peeling a mound of potatoes. She stopped to wipe the perspiration from her brow and looked at the kitchen clock. She knew this couldn’t be Gordon Munroe, not unless he’d pushed the speed limit.
Drying her hands on her apron, she walked through the house and saw that it was Gordon after all. “Come in,” she said, opening the screen door, deciding not to comment on how quickly he’d arrived. “We can sit in here, if you’d like. My grandmother’s resting a bit on the back porch.”
“I appreciate your taking time to see me today, Marlena.” He was holding a letter-sized envelope as he sat on the settee nearest the windows. “You’ve certainly had your share of losses recently. I’d like to offer my condolences to you for your grandfather . . . and for Luella, too. I’m sorry I didn’t think to say anything yesterday.”
“Dawdi Tim was an inspiration to many people, ’specially to his family,” she said, sitting across from Gordon.
“I wish I’d known him. And I definitely didn’t know your sister for nearly as long as I’d planned to.” Gordon looked away, a glint in his eye. “Luella talked quite a lot about your grandfather Martin. In fact, in one of her letters, written not long before she died, she said his opinion mattered more to her than anyone’s.”
Marlena nodded. “I felt that way, too.” Just had no idea Luella did.
He opened the letter in his hand. “I’d like you to hear your sister’s words directly, if you don’t mind.”
Folding her hands, Marlena listened as he began to read.
Dearest Gordon,
I miss you and pray for your safe return to me.
Angela Rose is such a dear baby, and she brings me so much happiness—I wish you could see her growing little by little. Oh, and does she ever look like you! She also reminds me of Dawdi Tim Martin, with those beautiful eyelashes. Dawdi even had the longest arms ever. He would boost me onto his big horses and lead me around the barnyard.
I’ve been thinking about the summers Marlena and I spent in Brownstown lately. Did I ever tell you how Dawdi read the Bible to us in English? Afterward, he would close the Good Book so reverently and talk about Jesus, as though He was a brother or a very close friend. I still can’t get this out of my mind. Well, my heart.
Now, I don’t know if you’ll understand or even approve, but I’ve made my peace with God recently—a long time coming. And I’ve been taking our baby to church with me every Sunday morning. It’s very different than the Amish church I grew up in, but I’m learning more about the heavenly Father who loves me no matter how badly I’ve hurt my parents . . . and my siblings, most especially my sister Marlena. When I look at our little daughter, I feel compelled to teach her these tenets of Scripture, too. Being a parent has opened my eyes to what’s really important.
Honestly, I regret leaving my Plain life behind—not that I have second thoughts about marrying you, Gordon. It’s just that being in the Amish church gave me the best start I could have had, if only I hadn’t strayed from the simple gifts of integrity, kindness, and embracing peace—all the wisdom I learned there.
You might wonder where I’m going with this, dear. With you half a world away, battling a war I don’t understand—and me here alone with Angela Rose—I’ve been wondering if we shouldn’t have a will made in case anything might happen to you or to me. Along that line, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather choose to mother our baby than my sister Marlena. Without question, she is the very best choice to care for Angela Rose, if it ever comes to that. I just know she would show her the tenderest love.
What do you think of this idea?
While he was reading, Gordon paused several times to regain his composure. When he finished the letter, his face was wet with tears. “Do you understand now why I had to see you?” He wiped his eyes with a handkerchief.
Marlena was deeply touched by her sister’s words, but she was not clear why Gordon had felt such a need to rush here. “I guess so . . . but I’m a bit puzzled, since Angela has you, Gordon.”
He nodded and refolded the letter before slipping it back into the envelope. “The military life is not conducive to raising a young child—not for a single father,” he said. “I’m home for a bereavement leave, but I’ll be expected to return to battle. And, as you must know, my parents are well past their child-rearing days. As long as they can visit Angela Rose, they will respect my wishes for her care.”
“It would be a very big change for their lives, jah.” She sighed, trying to grasp all that Gordon was implying just now. “But I’m single, too, and there’s no romantic prospect that I know of.”
“But do you love Angela Rose?”
She nodded. “More than you know.” She thought of Nat’s ultimatum and bit her lip. “I’d do anything for your baby girl, believe me.”
He tapped the letter on his knee. “Obviously Luella recognized that, as well.”
Knowing her sister had named her in the letter made Marlena sigh. It was truly a surprising compliment to realize Luella had seen her in that way. She must’ve understood me better than I thought.
“
If you’re willing, I want to honor my wife’s memory and sign over full custody to you, with the understanding that I’ll send you money every month to help with Angela’s needs.” He stopped for a second, folding his hands. “Of course, I would also like to visit my daughter occasionally, as my schedule permits.”
Her tears were her answer, and Gordon gestured toward the door, saying he needed to return to the car quickly. Oh, Marlena wanted to call for Mammi and tell her right then what this visit was all about. But, still in awe of what her ears and heart had just heard, she rose and walked to the front door, pushed open the screen door, and stepped out onto the porch, filling her lungs with God’s fresh air. What an amazing day, indeed!
Then, hearing the most precious baby cries ever, Marlena turned and saw Gordon’s aunt Patricia handing Angela Rose up to him from the car.
Hurrying down the steps, her skirt tail flying, Marlena outstretched her arms. “Oh, my darling!” she called. “You’re here . . . my precious baby.”
And then, scarcely aware of anything but that Gordon had passed his daughter into her embrace, Marlena wept the happiest tears of her life.
Chapter 41
Late that September, before the harvest, corn leaves shimmered all over Brownstown farmland. Marlena first noticed the glints of gold when Mammi drove to purchase additional dress material for Angela Rose. As they sped past the rows of corn, Marlena caught a sprinkled reflection of dazzling sunlight, like thousands of tiny mirrors.
God’s calling is sure, she thought, thrilled to have Angela Rose in her care for always.
“You seem to enjoy sewin’ more than ever,” Mammi said as they rode.
“It’s nearly like making doll clothes, she’s so small.” Marlena smiled down at Angela Rose, dozing in her arms. “’Cept she’s a lot more fun.”
“Enjoy it now, ’cause these days won’t last at the rate she’s goin’.”
They laughed merrily, and Marlena knew it was ever so true. These were the days to cherish, while her niece-turned-daughter was still small.
The Love Letters Page 26