by Kelly Irvin
“I can color pretty.”
“Jah, you can. Can you draw a D for Delia under the picture?”
“D for Daed.”
“Jah, D for Daed too.”
Her mind running in six directions, Laura went back to Hannah. A public confession before the Gmay was in order. She and the baby’s father would be shunned for at least six weeks. A small, quiet wedding would follow. Their disgrace would mean fewer guests, a smaller reception. It would need to be soon. “Have you and your special friend spoken to Freeman?”
More sobs. “Daed talked to Cyrus. Freeman is sick. He’s not seeing anyone right now. We’re waiting.”
“And the daed?” Laura had no idea who her great-grandchildren courted. Only that they did. “Why hasn’t he spoken up? You’ll take your punishment together.”
Hannah covered her face with both hands. Laura peeled her fingers away. “You’ll make your confession. You’ll survive the bann. Then you’ll wed. The Gmay will forgive you. Gott will forgive you. Your family will forgive you.”
Hannah collapsed against Laura’s chest and hid her face like a child. “He doesn’t want to marry me.”
Worse. She’d sinned with an English man. “He’s not Plain?”
“He’s Plain. But he’s leaving. He’s decided to go up north with the others to work in the RV factory.”
A Plain man should recognize his responsibility and step up to it. This boy, whoever he was, intended to take the way of a coward.
It said much about his character. He would not make a good husband for Hannah. Marriage was for life and not to be entered into with someone unable to accept its responsibilities.
Hannah’s friend was not special. He’d taken a gift from Laura’s great-granddaughter and not given one in return. He hadn’t given his heart with his body. The two were godly gifts entwined as to never be separated.
Laura inhaled and exhaled. She gritted her teeth. Breathe, breathe. Her stomach roiled.
To stumble like this was human, but she held high hopes for all her children. She’d been happy when each of her nine joined the church, when they married, and when they produced grandchildren for her. In that order. As was expected in every Plain community. While this sin brought disgrace on Hannah, it would be forgiven. This child would be welcomed and loved. How Hannah handled her mistake would have enormous bearing on how she lived out the rest of her life in the Gmay.
Laura led Hannah to the table and went to get her a glass of water. She set it in front of her and took a seat. Her stomach calmed. “Your daed can talk to the boy’s parents.”
“Nee. I don’t want him to marry me out of obligation.”
Although Laura agreed with that sentiment, the decision wasn’t necessarily Hannah’s. The Gmay would decide. Freeman, Cyrus, and Solomon would meet with the couple. And with the parents. They would weigh the circumstances against the likelihood that the two could make a successful marriage. Unlike the rest of the world, Plain folks didn’t divorce. The question became whether Hannah and her special friend could finish what they’d inadvertently started. “It’s a responsibility. That he feels none doesn’t say much for him.”
“We made a mistake. I made a mistake.” Hannah gulped water. Laura offered her a napkin and she blew her nose. “I’m so sorry, Groossmammi.”
“I’m not the one who needs your apology. Your disgrace touches everyone in the Gmay. Your parents taught you better.”
“I know. I was weak. Thaddeus knew too. I could tell from the disgust on his face and the way he avoided looking at me. He turned away from me. I felt so alone and so ashamed.”
Laura’s heart broke. What should’ve been a special, sacred moment, a memory Hannah would carry in her heart forever, had become a dark burden she would carry on her shoulders until that day when she met and married her true soulmate—if she did.
Great obstacles littered the road to such a happy ending.
“You need only ask to be forgiven and you will be.” Laura cleared her throat, tight with unshed tears. “Gott understands our weakness. His grace is unending. He loves you no matter what you do. Never forget that. There will be hard days ahead, but never forget that you are God’s child. He has a plan. Trust Him.”
“I’ve prayed and prayed.”
“Then you are forgiven. Hang on to that each day from now on. Take your punishment and keep moving your feet forward. One step at a time. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.” Which was no excuse, but done was done. It was best to focus on the next steps. “Your parents know about his decision?”
“They want me to give the bopli to a family who wants him.” Hannah rubbed her red eyes with the sodden napkin, which only served to make them redder. “I don’t think I can give up my bopli.”
Her hands went to her flat belly again. She gazed at Laura as if she had all the answers. Laura longed to have them. A good home for the baby was the most important concern. Not Hannah’s wishes or desires. She was barely a woman herself, but she had been raised to be a wife and mother. As a midwife Laura knew better than most how much couples wanted children and how content they were when they held their new baby in their arms. “Some couples can’t have boplin and would be gut parents.”
“But it’s my bopli.”
Now Hannah sounded more like a child than a woman. “This isn’t a pair of shoes or a new dress or a kitten.”
“I know. I help with my bruders and schweschders. I’ve been in the room when boplin are born. I change the diapers and rock them to sleep.”
But it would be different when the baby belonged to her. Especially for Hannah, with no husband to share in the responsibility and the joy. “You bring this bopli up on your own, you will see other consequences.”
“You mean no Plain man will want me.” Her eyes closing, Hannah laid her head on the table. “That will be true, either way.”
Her voice was muffled, but the words touched Laura’s heart anyway. “The right man—the man Gott intends for you—will accept your past transgressions just as you accept his.”
Hannah raised her head. Her expression turned fierce. “My bopli will love me no matter what.”
“That’s true—”
“Groossmammi, can I have a cookie? Two cookies?” Samuel dashed into the room. He carried his burlap sack that held his favorite toys—a dozen or more carved wooden horses and cows. “Tulip wants one too.”
Tulip was a cow.
“It’s too close to supper.”
“I want a cookie too.” Delia’s whine reflected the late hour and her desire to have whatever her brother had. “I want two cookies.”
“Play with your schweschder while I get supper.” Laura gave Samuel a hand up to the table and brushed brown, dried leaves from his hair. “I guess you found Christopher.”
“We wrestled. Then he went to check on the piglets.”
“Very gut.”
“He’s coming in to paint his horseshoes in a minute.”
“His horseshoes.” That was a new one. “Do the horses like their shoes painted? Pink? Blue? Or maybe purple.”
Samuel giggled. Delia joined in although it was clear she had no notion as to why. “He paints pictures on them and sells them. The Englischers like them. Daed says he can have them at the produce stand in the spring. And the craft fair in the summer.”
“What a good way to make money.” Everyone in the family helped make ends meet when they got old enough. “Do you paint too?”
“Nee. I help pick the strawberries.”
“Gut for you.”
Hannah got up and hugged Samuel.
“What was that for?”
“Because you’re a gut boy.”
“I’m gut girl,” Delia chimed in. “Hug me too.”
Hannah swooped her up in a big hug that made the little girl chortle. Tears coursed down Hannah’s face.
“Don’t cry, Hannah. My mudder will be home soon. She’ll make you feel better.”
Hannah cried harder. “Sorry,
Delia. I don’t think your mudder can help.”
“You have to help yourself on this one. Let’s make supper.” Laura went to the propane refrigerator and brought out two chickens that still needed to be cut up. “Help me. Finish the pie.”
Hannah settled Delia back in her chair. She wiped her face with a fresh napkin and blew her nose again. She looked green around the gills. “My stomach feels terrible.”
“How long have you known?”
She shuffled to the shelves and picked out the sugar and corn syrup. She laid them on the counter and then added the eggs she found in the refrigerator.
Meanwhile Laura counted to ten and recited the Lord’s Prayer in her head. Give the girl time. This is hard. It will get harder. Lord, I lift her up to You. She has sinned. She’s sorry. Gott, forgive her.
No excuses were needed and none should be offered.
“It was only once.”
How many teenagers had said those words since the beginning of time? “It only takes once.”
How many parents had responded with those same words?
“I didn’t think of it until I started to feel sick. I thought maybe it was the flu or something I ate.” She mixed softened butter with the sugar, corn syrup, a little salt, and three eggs. Her forehead wrinkled in concentration as she beat the ingredients, and she stumbled over the words. “But every day it came back. Then one day it hit me.”
Hannah ducked her head. “You know what I mean?”
“I do. How long ago was that?”
“A month.”
“You waited a month to tell your parents?”
“Wouldn’t you? I wanted to convince Thaddeus that we could get married and have a family before I told them. But he wouldn’t agree to it. He said it was the wrong reason to get married. That he’s not ready.”
Ready for some things, but not others. A convenient thing for a man. The woman couldn’t escape the error of her ways so easily.
“Why did you come here?”
“Because I thought you could tell me what to do.”
Laura slid the knife through the cold, clammy chicken skin and sliced a thigh and drumstick from the breast. Then again on the other side. Then the wings. She’d cut up chicken hundreds, maybe thousands, of times. Now it required her complete concentration. Aaron, Hannah’s grandfather, was Laura’s youngest son. The one least like Laura. Or Eli, for that matter. He was the spitting image of Eli in looks, the way he walked, and his mannerisms. But he opened his mouth and another man appeared. One who followed the rules and never deviated. With a firm grasp on his way of life. A good man. A good father. A good husband.
It wasn’t clear why he wasn’t Laura’s favorite. A mother shouldn’t have favorites. He simply rubbed her the wrong way.
His wife, Deborah, on the other hand, employed a hug that could break a rib. The thought prompted Laura to slice the breasts from the back and ribs. She made quick work of the final pieces. One chicken down, one to go. “Do your grandparents know?”
“They went to talk to Groossdaadi before I left the house.”
Laura trotted to the shelf and retrieved the flour. “They know you’re here then?”
Hannah wrinkled her nose. She poured the pecans into the mixture. Her sigh filled the room. “Nee. They told me to stay in my room until they came back.”
“Instead you took a buggy and came here.”
“A horse. Not a buggy.”
“Hannah Kauffman.”
“I know.”
“Such disobedience is salt in the wound.” Laura dumped salt and pepper in a bowl with flour. “Adding insult to injury and so on.”
“I needed to talk to you.”
“You waited this long. You could’ve waited until tomorrow or the next day.”
“I couldn’t wait anymore. They’ll make decisions, and I’ll have to live with them.”
“Talking to me won’t change that.”
“I needed you.”
How could a great-grandmother argue with that? Laura needed to be needed. She wanted to be useful. Her body might be failing her, but her mind remained as sharp as Eli’s ax all those years ago. What would Eli say?
He’d say make the best of it.
She dropped the first piece of chicken in the bowl of flour and spices and coated it. “We’ll eat and then you’ll go home.”
“Are we having supper tonight?”
At the sound of Zechariah’s soft inquiry, Laura swiveled. “I’m sorry. I’ve gotten behind, but there will be supper. Can I get you a snack in the meantime?”
“Me want a snack.” Delia dropped a fat crayon on the table. It rolled across the expanse of blue tablecloth and disappeared over the edge. “Cookie. Two cookies. And milk.”
She climbed down from the chair and went to Hannah. “Don’t cry. We have snacks.”
Zechariah’s gaze went to Hannah. His bushy eyebrows lifted. “It doesn’t need to be a big spread. Everyone is tired. We had ham a few days ago. There’s probably leftovers in there. We could have sandwiches. Or BLTs.” He leaned on his cane and cleared his throat. “Why don’t we have the pie tomorrow?”
“Hannah’s making the pie, and I’ve started the chicken. It doesn’t take long to fry it.”
The back door opened. In tromped Seth and Carrie. Laura opened her mouth to greet Hannah’s parents. Seth’s scowl and Carrie’s worried face made her shut it again.
“What are you doing here?” Seth’s fury ringed the words with fire. “You weren’t to leave your room.”
“I needed to talk to Groossmammi—”
“You should’ve sent her back home as soon as she got here.” Seth turned the fury on Laura. Carrie put her hand on his coat sleeve. He shook her off. “This girl can’t be trusted gallivanting around the countryside. Did she tell you what she did? Did she tell you?”
“She did.” Laura kept her voice soft. “We have kinner in the room.”
Seth’s gaze went to Delia and Samuel, who stared up at him with unabashed curiosity. Delia’s face crumbled.
“I shouldn’t yell.”
“You shouldn’t. It doesn’t accomplish a thing.” Laura waved a floury drumstick in the air. “We’ll eat. Then we’ll talk.”
“No need to feed us.”
“The more the merrier.”
His thunderous expression said there would be nothing merry about it.
ELEVEN
IF THE LACK OF TALKING WAS ANY INDICATION, THE fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, corn, and homemade bread were a big hit. Hungry after a long day of shopping and fending off gossipers, Laura focused on filling her empty stomach. Forks clinking on plates, chewing, and the occasional “pass the corn” filled the silence at the dining room table. Fine by her.
Zechariah ate better than he had been. Maybe the cold air gave him an appetite. Or he wanted to show Ivan and Elijah they needn’t be concerned about him. Whatever they’d talked about while doing chores hadn’t set well with any of them. They stared at their plates and ate fork to mouth as if it required great concentration.
Like they’d never eaten fried chicken before.
Hannah picked at her food. Carrie did the same. Seth inhaled his food like a man who hadn’t eaten in days. Then he leaned back and sipped his coffee with his gaze riveted on his oldest daughter. She squirmed and dropped mashed potatoes to cover the corn she hadn’t eaten.
This was ridiculous. Even the kinner seemed overtaken by sudden shyness. Their drooping heads suggested bedtime would come early as darkness did this time of year.
With the dearth of conversation, it didn’t take long to finish. The pie came out of the oven in time to be enjoyed hot, sweet, and steaming, with equally hot kaffi. The belches and sighs of content ment also signified satisfaction, even though no one commented.
Laura didn’t need compliments. She preferred conversation.
They were hurting and Laura couldn’t fix it. She might have words of wisdom, but they didn’t change the fact that Hannah had disgraced her f
amily. Her life would never be the same. She would be forgiven, but she would be the woman with the baby and no husband. Or she would be the woman who gave up her baby.
“Hannah, why don’t you take the kinner down the hall and get them washed up.” Laura smiled at them. “You can help Delia into her nightgown and read her a story. Make sure she says her prayers.”
Laura took Samuel’s and Christopher’s plates. “You two know what to do.”
“What about the dishes?” Her tone eager, Hannah laid her napkin by her still-full plate. “I don’t want to leave you with the mess.”
She was a good girl. Laura made shooing motions. “I’m sure Carrie will help me.”
And they had things to discuss out of her earshot.
Ivan scooted back his chair. A second later Elijah did the same. After some meaningful glances, Michael did as well. “How long do you plan to help out here?” Michael laid his napkin by his plate. “I mean, are you staying after Ben’s fraa comes home?”
“Jah, if that is what Ben wants.” Laura added the three men’s plates to her stack. Carrie began to gather up silverware. “She’ll not be able to be on her feet all day doing laundry and cooking and cleaning. I can help with that while she concentrates on feeding those babies. Two are more than a handful with a toddler running around to boot.”
Carrie nodded. “I had mine two years apart three times in a row. At times it felt like twins, but it’s not the same as trying to feed two in the middle of the night.”
The men shifted in their chairs. Their gazes went from the table to the ceiling and back. Sometimes Carrie still sounded English. Laura smiled. “Why do you ask?”
Ivan’s gaze went to Seth rather than to Laura. “Ruby and Martin are gut with that?”
Seth’s eyebrows danced. “As far as I know. Groossmammi is a big help at the house, but everyone knows she helps out where she can, even if she’s not at the store anymore or delivering babies.”
Carrie’s grim smile matched his. “We’re thankful she has a calming effect on some of the more rambunctious kinner.” Her gaze wandered to the doorway through which Hannah had disappeared. “Although some still manage to get themselves into messes.”