by Naomi King
“But she’s got Becky and Maggie—”
“Sure she does. But losing your own flesh and blood after they’re nearly grown isn’t much different from acting like you never birthed them.” Abby let this idea soak in a bit. “What I’m saying is that Adah might warm up to being a grandmother if you’ll let her. It would be a gut thing for the both of you, and for the child, too.”
Zanna’s expression said it was time to move on; her sister was a good one for pulling down an invisible window shade between them when she didn’t want to hear difficult truths.
“So what else went on? Surely it didn’t take all night to hear about Adah Ropp.” Zanna glanced at Abby from the corner of her eye. “What did Beulah Mae and Eunice have to say? And James? I saw him bringing his folks over.”
Abby bit her lip to keep from praising strong, mature, compelling James Graber. She would sound like a lovestruck fool, no doubt. “He was concerned about you being so upset when you came out of the store, same as Sam was. James isn’t real happy, all things considered, but he’ll forgive you. If you ask.”
Again Zanna’s blue eyes widened. “We’ll see about that. What about his mamm and Beulah Mae?”
Abby knew a dodge when she heard one. “All three of them apologized and admitted their wrongdoing at the end of the discussion, rather than waiting for a preaching Sunday to confess.”
“I can see where they’d do that,” Zanna remarked, probably recalling her own more public confession. “So now everybody’s righty-tighty? Gut to go?”
Abby held back a remark about Zanna’s irreverent attitude. “Sam asked what he and I could do to improve the situation, as well.”
“And?”
Zanna’s one-word response rang with a challenge. Abby knew better than to stall, so she replied as gently as she knew how. “We’re to keep you out of the store’s main room. Working here at the house might be best—”
“But haven’t I stayed out of the phone shanty? And stayed away from my friends?” she shot back. “And wasn’t I helping Sam, like folks said I should, instead of cleaning houses? Never mind that Phoebe and Gail and Ruthie work at Lois Yutzy’s shop instead of at Mamm’s greenhouse.”
“The very things I pointed out to them, jah.” Abby sighed, knowing how frustrated her sister must feel. “But when we ask, and the bishop answers—without declaring that we should make you disappear and give up your baby—it’s gut to go along with what he says.”
Zanna stood up. She went to the table in the front room to run her hand over the rag rug, which had finished out at nearly four feet long. The two shades of blue made a colorful contrast to the duller strips and brought out the brighter hues of the printed fabrics she’d worked in.
Abby cleared their dishes without saying anything more, letting her sister chew on Vernon Gingerich’s decision.
“So… have any more clothes landed in your donation box?” Zanna asked with a loud sigh. “Sounds like I might be making rugs all winter.”
“Lots of gals would enjoy having that option.” Abby knew all about that edge in Zanna’s voice: her sister hadn’t finished expressing herself.
Zanna threw the rug to the floor and stomped on it. She put her hands on her hips, looking like she’d bit into a lemon.
Then she relaxed… appeared to be contemplating her options in a more mature way. With a bare toe she stroked the rug she had made for Adah… focused on the royal blue fabric that had been her wedding gown. “What if I called Jonny to say his mamm wants to see him real bad? He had no hard feelings against her when he took off. It was his dat he couldn’t be in the same barn with.”
Abby sensed something fishy was going on, but she took the bait. “You know where he is?”
“Well, jah!” Zanna laughed as though the answer—her condition—should make that obvious. “I know his cell number, anyway.”
Abby kept her smile to herself. She prayed the Lord didn’t let her play the fool too long. Zanna knew exactly where Jonny Ropp hung his hat—if he wore one anymore.
“And why would you be calling him?” she quizzed her little sister. “Rudy’s told Adah she’s not to speak with those boys, so some folks might see your call as meddlesome, at best. Leading Adah into temptation, against her husband’s wishes.”
“It’s a sin for her son to come back and see her?” Zanna asked. “What if I set it up to surprise her? Or what if Jonny comes back without telling her first, so Rudy can’t say— Oh, forget it! This is insane!”
Zanna glared at her, exasperated. “Honestly, Abby, do all the Old Ways—the old rules—seem right to you? The Ordnung says we can welcome family members who haven’t yet joined the church—because they still might take their vows. Is it a crime to bring a family together again?”
It was a good question, and there was no satisfying answer. “Some folks think that when somebody jumps the fence rather than taking his vows, he’s forsaking his family as well as our faith. And along with that, the Bible says wives are to submit to their husbands.” Abby joined her sister in the front room, careful not to step on the new rug. “So if Adah goes against Rudy’s saying she can’t see the boys—”
“Oh, all right! So my calling Jonny has nothing to do with Rudy and Adah, or rules and regulations, or—” Zanna turned away. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides.
“Maybe I just want to hear his voice again. Maybe I can’t stay mad at him because—because I miss him, Abby,” Zanna wailed. “You don’t know how awful it feels, to love somebody when it’ll never work out. Not just because of all these stupid rules, but because… well, he doesn’t have a clue. Jonny has no idea how much I love him.” Her voice had trailed off to nearly nothing. Zanna hung her head and let her tears plop onto the rag rug.
Abby clenched her eyes shut. Oh, but she knew exactly how awful it felt to love someone who didn’t know about or return that love! Once again, however, she set aside her feelings for James. Zanna had just made several revealing statements that needed to be clarified while it was just the two of them talking.
“Are you sure it’s not your loneliness speaking, rather than love?” she asked gently. “It’s not your way to isolate yourself, and you’ve been so gut about not running with your buddies.”
“Not by choice, exactly.” Zanna shrugged forlornly. “Last I heard, the Coblentz twins were forbidden to come to the store, and their folks took their cell phone.” Her eyes misted over. “Lots of the other girls are helping their mamms… probably being told to stay away from me. Like I’d be a bad influence.”
Abby sighed along with her sister. This was all part and parcel of shunning. Although folks were encouraged to visit a member under the ban to show their support, it was difficult for teenage girls to show that support, and difficult for the girl being shunned to lose contact with her friends. “So,” Abby began, hoping the right ideas would come to her, “now that you’ve told James why you can’t marry him—”
“This isn’t about James.” Zanna sniffled loudly, shaking her head. “Oh, I tried to love him, Abby. He’s a gut man, like all of you say, but he’s too old for me. And I finally figured out I was making everybody happy about that marriage except for me.”
Her blue eyes, full of tears, tugged at Abby’s heartstrings. Anything she said, as a maidel, would hit Zanna the wrong way, so she kept quiet. Instead, Abby opened her arms and hugged her sister close, like they did far too seldom these days. Zanna swayed with her, sniffling against her shoulder, soaking in the warmth they both needed right then.
“Oh, Abby, what should I do?” Zanna sobbed. “When I ran into James coming out of the store—when I saw the pain in those brown eyes, and knew I put it there—it hurt so bad I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t call off the wedding to spite him, you know. Truth is, I’d been seeing Jonny Ropp for a long while.”
“Jah, we figured you’d been slipping out with him before your rumspringa, even though Dat said you were too young,” Abby replied. Most young folks kept their courting a secret, an
d most parents went along with this Plain tradition, but Zanna hadn’t always been quiet enough when she came home from her dates with Jonny.
“Oh, jah. We were sweet on each other all through school, too. He’s like nobody else I’ve ever met. Jonny makes me laugh—at myself, even. He has a gentleness about him even if everybody’s always figured him for a troublemaker, but when he asked if I’d jump the fence to live with him, I couldn’t do it. I just wanted to see him one last time, and… I didn’t tell him I was engaged to James.”
“Sounds like you had a notion you didn’t want to be Mrs. Graber, even then.”
“Jah. But I was too scared to tell anybody. Then later, I couldn’t tell Jonny about the baby, either, though that was my intention when I ran off the morning of the wedding.”
Zanna eased away to look at Abby, sighing sadly. “I’ve joined the church, so marrying Jonny’s not an option. And he’ll think I’m forcing his hand if I lay on the blame for the baby to lure him back to Cedar Creek.” She shook her head. “That’s no way to catch a man if you want him to love you of his own free will—not that Jonny would figure out that love part, the way I did a long time ago.”
Abby ached for her little sister… ached for the young woman so caught up in a fellow that Mamm and Sam would never approve of. But the situation made more sense now; she understood that Zanna hadn’t acted on a moment’s compulsion on the July day when she’d conceived Jonny’s child.
And just as Jonny Ropp had no inkling of the depth of Zanna’s love for him, Zanna had no idea how deeply committed James had been to her. What a sad triangle, where none of the emotions and intentions matched up, so all three parties were left unfulfilled, hurting, and lonely.
Oh, Abby knew how that felt, too!
“So what I’m saying is… calling Jonny might turn into a gut thing for Adah and me, and for Jonny, too.” Zanna was reasoning aloud, although she didn’t sound convinced. “Maybe hearing his voice will give me the courage to tell him about the baby—or at least tell him how bad his mamm’s missing him. If he can’t hook up with me and his child, maybe at least he can come see Adah—or meet her somewhere.”
Abby raised an eyebrow. “I can’t think you want to tell Jonny about the baby over the phone, Zanna. That’s kind of personal—and who knows how he might react?”
Zanna shrugged as though she had no further ideas. She looked young and vulnerable, a far cry from the raging, protesting teenager who hated rules and regulations.
“Do you want me to drive you to where Jonny is, then? Maybe if—”
“No! I don’t want to get you in trouble, too, Abby. It’d look like you were going against the limits of my shunning, and—” She let out a short sob. “I—I don’t know what I want anymore. Or what to do. I’m so confused about everything.”
“Comes with being pregnant, they say.”
“But I know if there was a way to marry Jonny, a way for him to really love me, and for me to stay in gut standing with our family and the church,” Zanna added tearfully, “I’d jump through a hundred hoops to be his wife. To raise this baby with him.”
Abby’s heart swelled. Zanna hadn’t sounded this certain about anything in a long, long time, even if some of the logic didn’t add up. But then, when had love ever been logical? In a perfect world, Abby could see things coming together for the best, for Zanna and Jonny… for her and James…
But the world wasn’t perfect, was it? Abby recalled being Zanna’s age and believing things could work out the way her heart wanted them to, if only she believed strongly enough. “Well, then, sister,” she murmured, thumbing the tears from Zanna’s sweet face, “hold on to that thought and that hope, that things will work out. Because if you give up hoping, it’s for sure and for certain you won’t find what you’re looking for.”
Zanna nodded. She looked drained. Resigned.
“Tell you what.” Abby glanced out the window, and was surprised to see snow falling in thick, fat flakes. “I’ve got some nice-size scraps left from Lois’s curtains, and some of Sam’s fabric bolts are low enough to be discounted as fat quarters, like we sell for quilting and other projects. There’s no rule saying a rug has to be all rags, you know!” She ran the toe of her shoe along the edge of the oval on the floor. “This rug you made for Adah is one of the best I’ve ever seen, Zanna. Your stitches are relaxed and even, and you balanced the colors so well. And it lies flat, too.”
“Denki for saying so—”
“Maybe rug making’s not the most exciting way to pass the time, but it’s something we could sell in the store so you could put the money toward baby things.” Abby smiled at her. “Think about it, all right? I’ll fetch those other pieces of fabric from the store, in case you decide to start a new rug.”
Chapter 16
Just after midnight that evening, Abby heard her sister slip down the hall and then out the front door, closing it very quietly behind her. Abby sighed. It was so tempting to throw the quilts over her head, but being her sister’s keeper was a full-time job—like parenting, or caretaking for an elderly relative.
In her urgency, Zanna didn’t realize how visible she was on this clear, moonlit night: a figure cloaked in black, slogging through the eight inches of snow that had fallen since midmorning. And at seventeen, she didn’t realize how transparent her ideas and actions were. Down the lane to the road she went. Moments later, the pale glow of her flashlight lit the phone shanty.
Abby watched from the window near her bed. Such a beautiful night it was. The snow had stopped, and the frosted branches of the trees and evergreens glowed in the moonlight. The world felt hushed, and Abby could see the rolling white pastures beyond Sam’s house and the Grabers’. Courting couples would be out in sleighs, cuddled beneath layers of blankets as Belgians pulled them across pristine white pastures—but that wasn’t Zanna’s option right now.
The poor girl had shared so many of her feelings that Abby hadn’t slept soundly, as she ran the revelations through her mind again and again. Together they’d ripped bright, colorful strips of new fabric for another rug, but her sister had much larger projects in mind… bigger dreams and bolder ideas. And rightly so.
Abby slipped into her flannel robe and went to the front room to wait. Again, it was tempting to allow Zanna her secret trip to the phone shanty—even though everyone in Sam’s house would see her tracks, come morning. By the time Abby peeked out the window beside her favorite sewing chair, Zanna was already heading back to the house.
Not much of a phone call. Had Jonny not answered? Or had he yanked the proverbial rug out from under Zanna again, giving her a reaction she hadn’t counted on? The girl was head over heels, no doubt about it. Abby hoped, what with all the other disappointments Zanna had faced lately, that the most daring and dashing of the Ropp boys hadn’t taken her heart for a wild ride.
Help me say the right things, Lord, she prayed as she waited in the dimness. Help me to be the blessing Zanna needs right now.
As the door opened, Abby held her breath. Zanna slipped out of her black coat and bonnet and hung them back in the closet. It would be easy to stay still, and maybe her sister would return to bed to ponder whatever she’d heard on the phone. But why should she lie awake herself and let her sister get all the sleep?
“And what did Jonny have to say?” Abby asked quietly.
Zanna jumped, her hand flying to her chest. “Scared me half to—what are you doing, Abby? Spying on me?”
“I had a lot on my mind. I was awake when you passed my room.” Abby chuckled, making her hair shimmy down her back. “It’s not like Sam and the others won’t know where you went. Your footprints will be visible in the snow.”
Zanna slumped in the chair on the other side of the lamp table. “Jah, I figured that out halfway to the road. But I couldn’t get him off my mind. Does that make me wicked? In need of another confession this Sunday?”
Abby detected just enough sarcasm that she left that remark alone. No good would come of pressing Zanna f
or details she didn’t want to share. Silence was the best way to make folks squirm, and then spill out what they were thinking.
“He didn’t answer, so I got his voice mail. Like you said, it didn’t seem right to say how bad his mamm missed him, or to tell him about his baby, over the phone—much less by leaving a message.” Zanna let out a short, mirthless laugh. “So I dialed again, just to hear Jonny’s voice saying to leave my name and number and he’d call back. I couldn’t do that, either, though. Does that make me a coward, Abby?”
“It just means you’re nervous and scared, as any girl in your shoes would be.”
Zanna let out a long, sad sigh. “And I keep wondering, too, how I’m supposed to—how I’ll ever manage to be both a mamm and a dat to a newborn and still earn enough to keep us going like I told Sam I would.”
“Zanna. You can stop that kind of thinking right this minute.” Abby rose to wrap her arms around her sister, who seemed to be on the verge of another crying fit. “Did you really think we’d shut you out? Make you raise this baby all by yourself?”
Zanna hugged her harder. “But I told everybody… I didn’t know what I was letting myself in for when I…”
“Can you name me one Amish woman who’s ever had to raise a baby all alone?” Abby lifted her sister’s face, which still felt chilled from her walk outside. “Your family wouldn’t do that to you, Zanna. Even Sam agreed to stand by you, knowing full well what that would mean. Knowing how folks will talk and tell him he should have done things different.”
Zanna’s breathing became deeper as she considered these things.
“And then there’s this: you know how many little sets of clothes are tucked away in the attic at Sam’s. How many diapers and bibs and booties.” Abby smiled as she recalled the births of Sam and Barbara’s four children… and the way they’d all welcomed this girl in her arms, seventeen years ago. “And you can’t think Phoebe or Gail or Ruthie will let you keep this baby all to yourself, once it’s born. Not to mention Mamm and Barbara.”