An Empty Cup

by Sarah Price

  Still, she could breathe easier knowing that she was finally sharing her burden with others, allowing them to help lift her when in the past she had tried too hard to carry the weight by herself.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The shop was eerily quiet when Rosanna opened the door. The bell, a joyful noise in the past, didn’t sound nearly so cheerful when the front office was empty. Carefully she shut the door and, as Reuben had instructed, made sure it was locked to any customers who might miss the Closed sign in the front window. It was Saturday afternoon, and Reuben had let everyone leave early. Everyone, that is, except Nan. He had told Nan that he needed to meet with her.

  “Back here, Rosanna,” Reuben called out.

  Even standing on her toes, she couldn’t see him; he stood near his narrow desk behind the large machinery. Usually the desk was covered with papers. He referred to it as his organized chaos. While Rosanna preferred orderliness, Reuben worked better with papers to shift around. He also had a habit of keeping too many catalogs, many of them outdated, in a wire bin on the back corner of his desk. Today, however, there was nothing on his desk . . . no papers, no catalogs, no bin. There was nothing there except a single manila folder.

  “Why hello there, Rosanna!” Nan jumped up from her seat and held out her hand. The smile on her face was not reflected in her eyes. “I heard you weren’t well. I trust things are better now?”

  Deep breath, Rosanna told herself. She knew full well that Nan had more than just heard she was not well. After all, Reuben had stayed home for almost a week to tend to Rosanna’s needs. The women from the church had organized sending over meals. Like most other things worth discussing in the g’may, Rosanna’s illness had certainly hit the Amish grapevine. Nan’s nonchalant comment, so clear in its transparency, would have unnerved her if she hadn’t been prepared for it.

  “I’m feeling better, danke,” she said, trying to force a smile as Nan returned to her seat. “The g’may women were quite helpful in bringing food for the family. Their generosity was a true blessing.”

  At the mention of help from the church, Nan looked uncomfortable. She shifted her weight on the chair and uncrossed her feet. “I hope Daniel brought home the casserole I made,” she said, too quickly for Rosanna to believe there was ever a casserole.

  “Nee, Nan,” she said slowly. “He did not.”

  “He’s so forgetful sometimes!” Nan laughed, but there was an edge to her voice. The pointed attempt to criticize Daniel was far too obvious.

  Clearing his throat, Reuben leaned forward, an indication that it was time to talk business. Rosanna sat down in the free chair, and Reuben put his hands on the folder, his eyes boring into Nan’s. “Now that Rosanna is here, I suggest we get started with this meeting.”

  Nan glanced at Rosanna, a confused expression on her face. Clearly she wanted to ask why Rosanna needed to be there for the meeting, but she did not.

  “It’s been over two months since you began working here, Nan.” Reuben spoke slowly and cautiously. “Things in the shop have changed since that time.”

  Relief replaced confusion, and Nan lifted her shoulders, smiling. “They have, ja. More orders, happier customers, even the mobile pickup program is a great success!”

  Feeling tension in the pit of her stomach, Rosanna couldn’t look at the younger woman. She knew where the conversation was headed.

  Oblivious to Rosanna’s reaction and Reuben’s ambivalence, Nan continued talking. “I knew that new program would be a success, Reuben. It was just the logical next step. Now, if we could only get a fax line in here . . . There are more ideas that I want to implement.”

  “Let’s focus on the orders for the moment,” Reuben said, redirecting Nan to the conversation. He opened the manila folder and lifted a piece of paper. “Ken Petersheim. He stopped in the shop mid-July and ordered a new driving harness. Custom made for eight hundred dollars.” Setting the paper down, Reuben looked at Nan. “There’s no record of it.”

  Nan’s only indication of concern was the slightest flicker of a frown on her face. Otherwise she remained completely unruffled, a fact that did not escape Rosanna’s notice. Her reaction caused Rosanna a moment of irritation. Reuben had not slept at all the previous two nights, tossing and turning almost as much as he had during those first sleepless nights following the lot. The pain he felt was deep and more than just emotional misery; he felt a spiritual suffering that broke Rosanna’s heart.

  Nan, however, seemed completely unaware of the undercurrent of distress emanating from her employer. With hooded eyes, she stared at Reuben as she pursed her lips. “Who took the order?” she asked calmly.

  The bluntness of her question coupled with her tone caught both Reuben and Rosanna off guard. Rosanna glanced at Reuben, noticing that he was studying Nan with a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his expression. “I did,” he admitted.

  For a long moment Nan remained silent, her eyes downcast and her finger tracing the edge of the chair’s armrest. She exhaled slowly, with just enough exaggeration for Rosanna to realize that she was striving for dramatics, that she was overplaying her response on purpose. It dawned on Rosanna that many of Nan’s reactions were contrived in such a manner, the subtleness most likely undetectable by anyone who was not anticipating the manipulation.

  “What is it, Nan?” Rosanna asked, maintaining a gentle tone. She suspected that Nan was waiting for her question. The wheels of the younger woman’s mind were clearly spinning, and Rosanna found herself curious as to where this conversation would lead.

  “Ach vell, I didn’t want to say anything,” Nan started, speaking deliberately slowly and enunciating each syllable. She ran a finger along the edge of the desk. There was a softness in her tone that Rosanna had not heard before. Usually she was loud and direct, commanding the center of attention. This humble side was out of character for Nan and only further convinced Rosanna of how cunning and conniving she truly was, a fact further confirmed when Nan continued. “It’s not really my place to say anything . . .” she said.

  Neither Reuben nor Rosanna spoke, a captive audience to Nan’s confession. Surely she would admit her guilt and plead for forgiveness. Like a dutiful preacher and wife, they waited expectantly for her next words.

  To their mutual surprise, rather than an admission of guilt, an accusation of blame slipped from Nan’s lips as she turned to face Rosanna. “Reuben has become more forgetful recently. I’m sure it’s the pressure of all that has happened in the past few weeks,” Nan said. “What with you being so sick and all.”

  Rosanna blinked her eyes, incredulous. She repeated Nan’s words in her head. Reuben forgetful?

  As if reading her mind, Nan nodded. “Ja, Reuben’s been forgetting to log orders and even gave Martin the wrong directions to pick up items from farmers. No one wanted to say anything,” she said softly. “But everyone is concerned and talking about it. Daniel, Martin, even Rebecca.”

  “I . . . I’m stunned,” Rosanna managed to whisper, unable to look away from the young woman who sat before her so nonchalantly deflecting the guilt away from herself.

  “I’ve been doing so much cleaning up after him,” Nan continued, waving her hand dismissively in Reuben’s direction. “Even the brusque way in which he speaks to customers, telling them that he’s too busy to talk to them or stomping out of the front area.”

  Rosanna frowned. She glanced at Reuben, who appeared completely astonished by Nan’s accusations. His cheeks were flushed red—whether from humiliation or from anger, Rosanna did not know, and she wasn’t certain she wanted to find out.

  “Why, your own dochder won’t come down here to work anymore,” Nan said, once again directing her words to Rosanna as if Reuben were not seated less than two feet in front of them. “It’s an abusive work environment with too long hours and very little appreciation for our efforts. We all feel that it’s time for him to retire before things get even worse.”

  When Nan finally stopped talking, the room was silent. Ros
anna couldn’t think of one thing to say, and she was certain that Reuben was also at a loss for words. They sat without moving, waiting for Nan to continue with her unexpected assault on Reuben’s character. Thankfully she didn’t. Instead, she sat there as calm as could be, as though it were an everyday event to rip out someone’s heart and stomp on it—for surely that was what she had just done to Reuben.

  The satisfied look upon her face, however, indicated that she was either unaware of, or simply didn’t care about, the pain her words had caused. Then it dawned on Rosanna: The woman truly believed that she had spoken the truth and was doing them a favor by sharing her lies with them. Even worse, she appeared proud to have done so.

  How unusual, Rosanna thought as she stared at Nan. It was the only word she could think of that did not border on breaking one of the commandments. Nan actually believed her fabrication. The realization shocked Rosanna as much as Nan’s assertions had.

  There was something about Nan that made Rosanna uneasy. It was more than just her bluntness at the farm or that she didn’t help clear plates after dinner. It even went beyond her reluctance to help Rosanna clean the house or her behavior at the youth gatherings. “A fool’s mouth is his destruction, and his lips are the snare of his soul,” Rosanna thought, realizing how true this verse was. Not only was Nan a fool, she was also in need of powerful prayer to help her soul.

  Rosanna managed to swallow. Her throat had suddenly become unbearably dry. “Nan,” she began. “You know that is not true.”

  “You don’t work down here.” Short and to the point, Nan showed no compassion.

  “I know that Reuben has been most kind to both you and your bruder,” Rosanna said. “All of his workers are rewarded generously and with great appreciation.”

  “Oh really, then?” Nan’s voice started to slip, a tightness behind her words. “Why, I didn’t hear one single word of gratitude for my idea for the mobile harness program!”

  Rosanna fought the urge to point out that it was actually her own idea. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. Reuben slammed his hand down on the top of the desk, his blue eyes hinting at the rage he had hidden. Both Nan and Rosanna jumped at the noise.

  His voice boomed as he shouted, “That’s enough! I’ve heard enough!” He shut his eyes quickly, as if taking a moment to compose himself. When he opened them again, he stared at Nan with an intensity that made Rosanna feel uncomfortable. “I will not let you take credit for an idea that was not yours.”

  Nan started to respond, but Reuben held up his hand, the gesture strong and swift. “What I want to know is why the Petersheim order was erased from the log book?” He spun the book around and shoved it across the desk. Nan glanced at it, paling for just one moment. “It was deliberately erased, Nan.”

  “Someone else must have done that, then,” she said.

  “No one else has reason to access the order log,” Reuben said.

  Nan shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. “Daniel looks at it, ja? Mayhaps he did it.”

  Reuben pointed to the line in the logbook. “If that was true, why would you write over it with another entry days later? Why wouldn’t you question the missing order?” His voice rose as he continued speaking. “This shop does not value selfish ambition but hard work that contributes to the collective welfare of our community. This missing order leads me to believe that the person who did it was trying to make someone else look inept in order to inflate her own importance!”

  At his words, Nan gasped.

  Refusing to let her speak, Reuben pulled the order book from her hands and slammed it shut. “I will not have someone working here who values personal achievement over humility and obedience—not just to our way but to God!” He spoke sternly to her. Lifting his hand, he began to count off with his fingers. “God, church, community, family.” He paused, his four fingers still in the air. “There is no self in the order of things. Not in our family, church, and community. And if you study God’s word, He, too, requires self-denial for the greater good.”

  It took a solid minute for Reuben’s words to sink in, in which time Nan’s composure transformed. Slowly her demeanor shifted from overly confident to bewilderment. Rosanna averted her gaze when she noticed tears welling up in Nan’s eyes. She finally understood where the conversation was going.

  Reuben did not waste any more time delivering his final determination. “It’s best that we part company at this point, Nan, before more words are said that will be regretted later.”

  Nan stood up and leaned against the desk, staring down at Reuben. To his credit, he remained calm.

  “This is an outrage!” Nan’s eyes narrowed, and she pressed her lips together, fighting the flow of tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. “The bishop will hear about this, how you treat your employees. And from a preacher, no less!”

  When neither Reuben nor Rosanna responded, Nan huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Clearly she had not expected their lack of reaction. That incited her temper even more. With silence as her cue, Nan turned on her heel and spun around, storming across the worn wooden floor to the office door. Moments later, the front bell jingled, sounding a bit happier to Rosanna than it had when she first entered.

  Alone, Reuben looked up at Rosanna apologetically. While his shoulders seemed lighter, as if a burden had been lifted just a little, he still looked worn and unhappy. “I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he said.

  “Nee, Reuben, it’s right gut I came.” She meant it, too. Nan’s reaction proved one thing to Rosanna: mental illness was not as uncommon as she had previously thought. “She’s very troubled, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Troubled?” He leaned back in his chair and ran his hands over his face. “I’d say a little more than troubled.” He sighed and shook his head. “She needs our prayers. Her walk with God has great need of realignment.”

  Rosanna wondered if there was anything her husband could do to help Nan. After all, he was a preacher now. But Nan had not officially joined their church. While she had been baptized in her former community in New York, she had not presented a letter from her bishop requesting the transfer of her church membership to the new g’may. It dawned on Rosanna that the letter may not have been presented because Nan knew that it might be more telling than she wanted.

  “What about the bishop?” Rosanna asked.

  “I’ve already taken counsel from him,” Reuben admitted. “He’s aware of what has transpired.”

  She didn’t press the issue, knowing that whatever Reuben discussed with the bishop was not her business. Besides, she didn’t want the burden of knowing. Her focus was on healing herself and supporting her family. Slowly she was beginning to recognize the difference between self-denial and self-discipline. Her ability to help everyone was limited—not by her desire but by her inability to handle too much at once.

  “What will you do about the house, then?” It was a question that Rosanna knew would be on his mind.

  “She’ll have to pay rent, I reckon. That was part of our agreement. No rent, but reduced pay while working for the shop.”

  The solution sounded simple enough, but Rosanna wondered what Nan’s brother would think of this agreement. Samuel—the elusive younger brother Rosanna had met only once. Would he be willing to pick up Nan’s share until she found another job? Would Nan even stay in the area, or might she return to New York? Rosanna didn’t ask those questions out loud, not wanting to place additional stress on Reuben.

  She knew the burden of stress weighed heavily on a person’s soul, the pressure eventually taking its toll on the body. Only time could answer what remained unspoken. In the meantime, she would support Reuben just as he had supported her during her dark days. Quietly she excused herself and went outside to wait for him. Her husband needed a few minutes alone to pray and reflect.

  Outside, Rosanna stood by the buggy and did the same, asking the Lord to give Reuben the strength to make the right decisions in how to approach Samuel about his sister’s
termination and, quite possibly, mental issues. Rosanna also prayed that the Lord would provide her the wisdom to know how to best support her husband.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The banging on the front door startled Rosanna from a deep sleep. At first she thought she was dreaming. It was well after midnight, and no one visited that late. When the noise continued, however, she heard Reuben groan and roll over before sitting up. The windows were open, and she heard a male voice shout Reuben’s name. In the quiet of the night, it sounded as if the person was standing beside their bed. Whoever was outside had walked around the back of the house.

  “Something must have happened,” Reuben mumbled, the sound of sleep still thick in his voice. He slid his legs out from beneath the sheet and fumbled in the darkness for a flashlight.

  “Oh dear!” She rubbed at her eyes as the beam of light illuminated the room. “Can’t be good, then.”

  He responded with a grunt as he slipped on a pair of black pants. “You stay here, Rosanna.”

  Sitting up, she leaned against the headboard and watched his dark frame moving toward the door. Nothing good ever happened after ten o’clock, she thought.

  Once he left the room, she was shrouded in darkness again. A wave of fear washed over her, and she said a prayer that nothing had happened to Aaron. After supper, he and Daniel had gone out with some friends. Now that she was awake, she realized that she hadn’t heard him return. Panic set in as she entertained these thoughts. Her heart began to pound, and she started to pray fervently, knowing that she must put her trust in God.

  Seconds seemed like minutes as she waited. Despite Reuben’s instructions, she finally slipped out from underneath the sheet and hurried through the darkness to the open door of their room. The voices of two men cut through the silence of the night. Quietly she crossed to the front door and stood in the shadows so she could hear without interrupting.