by Leslie Gould
I wondered at Aenti Pauline having another Bobli, thinking about all the years ahead of her, worrying about her girls going to parties and growing up, hoping they’d join the church, marry, and settle down. That was every Amish parent’s dream.
Except for my parents. Their one desire was that I’d marry Phillip. Maybe, after today, he’d set them straight for me.
When the driver dropped me off at home, Aenti Pauline said, “Tell your Mamm and Nell I was too tired to come in.”
“Should I say what happened?”
Aenti Pauline glanced at Onkel Owen. He shrugged his shoulders. “Better they hear it now from Addie than later from someone else.”
Aenti Pauline’s eyes welled. “Tell them not to spread it around, jah? That will only make it harder for Hannah.”
“Of course,” I said. “Let me know how Hannah is, and if there’s anything I can do.”
Aenti Pauline nodded.
I watched the van turn around and go back up our driveway, then trudged up the stairs and into the kitchen. Mutter sat at her usual spot, but all around her were boxes and stacks of papers.
“What are you doing?” I asked, without even telling her hello.
She looked up. “Oh, just trying to sort through some things. I found my old school papers in the closet in Billy and Joe-Joe’s room.”
I couldn’t keep silent any longer. “Mutter, are you looking for the letters?”
“What letters?”
“The ones supposedly from Dirk Mosier.”
She dropped her eyes as she fanned her face with a piece of paper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shifted in her chair, away from me, and said, “Betsy had her Bobli.”
“I heard,” I answered.
“Oh.” Clearly she was disappointed she wasn’t the one to tell me. “Well, did you have a good time last night?”
I shrugged.
“Tell me all about it.” She seemed unaware that I was down.
“It’s a long story,” I said, placing my overnight bag on a chair at the end of the table. “Did you get the message from Pauline?”
“Just to say you’d be late.” She sat up a little straighter. “Who brought you home?”
“Aenti Pauline and Onkel Owen’s driver.”
Mutter’s face grew concerned. “What’s going on?”
I told her what had happened with Hannah, leaving out what transpired at the party, but including the trip to the clinic.
“Oh goodness, I’d better tell Nell,” Mutter said, pushing back from the table.
“Don’t tell anyone else,” I said. “Aenti Pauline doesn’t want to make this any harder on Hannah.”
“Oh,” Mutter said, her face shifting a little. “I’ll tell Nell to keep it quiet.” She pushed herself up from the table. “When she gets up from her nap. She hasn’t been feeling well.”
“Oh?” I said. “Since when?”
“The last couple of days,” Mutter answered, stepping away from her chair. “I told her I’d do some piecing for her this afternoon.”
I hadn’t seen much of Aenti the day before. And when I had, she’d been quiet. I hoped she was all right.
There was a stack of pancakes on the counter. “Who made breakfast?” I asked.
“Danny.”
Realizing I was famished, I grabbed a pancake, rolled it into a tube, and took a bite. It was dry but edible. I swallowed, gulping it down. “Is Timothy around?”
Mutter shook her head, starting toward the sewing room. “He spent the night at George and Sam’s.”
“Do you know that for sure?” I asked.
She stopped. “Well, he’s not here.” Her face reddened. “That’s where I’m assuming he is.”
I sighed. He must have driven over after George stopped by.
“Why?” Mutter asked.
“No reason.” I took another bite.
“Don’t go anywhere.” Mutter started toward the sewing room again. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“Who? Where?” I looked out the kitchen window, but all I saw was the courtyard.
“Guess. He’s out back with your Daed.”
Phillip. I hadn’t expected him so soon. He must have parked his buggy on the far side of the barn.
I finished the pancake and headed toward the counter. The breakfast pans were soaking in the sink. I undid the plug, letting the cold, greasy water drain.
Fortunately for me, the family had eaten lunch with our district after church. Otherwise I’d have even more to clean up.
“You should go on out to Phillip,” Mutter called from the sewing room. “You can clean up later.”
“I’m sure he’ll be in soon enough,” I answered.
After I’d scrubbed the griddle and dried it, the back door opened. Daed stuck his head inside. “Come on out here a minute, Addie.”
I dried my hands and headed outside. Daed and Phillip were now sitting at the picnic table under the elm tree. Billy was sitting on one of the limbs, and Joe-Joe was trying to catch a lower one to pull himself up.
“You boys run along,” Daed barked.
Billy dropped to the ground and searched my eyes.
“Go,” I said. “You too, Joe-Joe. But stay in the shade. It’s getting too hot to be out in the sun.” I sat down on the same side of the table as Daed, across the table from Phillip.
My father turned and straddled the bench so he faced me. His eyes narrowed as he spoke. “So Phillip says you were at a party last night. And one of the Mosier twins ended up in the hospital, and then Hannah did something—or something was done to her—that led to some sort of breakdown.”
That was exactly what I feared people would say. I glared at Phillip.
“That’s how my father summed it up,” he said.
“Nothing happened to Hannah last night.”
Daed’s voice curled with scorn. “She wasn’t drinking? Or compromised?”
“No.”
“But you were at the party last night?” Daed demanded.
“Jah.”
“Are you intending to break your Mamm’s heart?”
“Of course not.” But I knew I was going to.
“You’ve been such a good girl.” Real pain filled Daed’s eyes.
“I still am,” I said. “Although I am a woman, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Jah. That’s what I’m worried about.” His face hardened.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I found his questioning my virtue, at the urging of Phillip Eicher, insulting.
“I’m disappointed in you,” Daed said.
I cocked my head.
“That you were at a party at all. Clearly something happened that affected Hannah—something that made her feel guilty, perhaps?”
I shook my head. “She’s been feeling despondent for weeks. Depressed. Aenti Pauline had already taken her to the doctor.”
“But then last night, she was with that boy, Mervin Mosier, the one I steered you clear of,” Daed said.
I took a deep breath.
“And it sounds as if you were with someone too.” He tugged on his beard.
I stared at him, not breaking my gaze.
“Jah, she was,” Phillip said. “And like I said, my Dat and I saw her with him again this morning, at Owen’s place.”
I didn’t respond.
“I want you to know . . . ” Phillip said, speaking to me now. “Like I told your Daed, I can forgive you—no matter what happened—this one time.”
I wondered if he fancied himself to be some kind of long-suffering biblical hero—and me, a fallen woman. My face grew warm as anger welled inside of me. I wanted to jump up from the table. How could Phillip’s denial run so deep?
How could my own Daed have no idea who I really was or what I wanted out of life?
But if I told them what I really thought, Daed would only come down on me all the more, and any chance of settling the grudge between the Cramers and Mosiers would be gone.
Daed cleared his throat. I knew he expected a response from me. I silently prayed that God would give me the right words, or better yet help me to keep from speaking at all. I turned my head toward the trunk of the tree beside the table, concentrating on the rough bark, tears stinging my eyes.
Finally Daed cleared his throat. “Addie?”
I kept my eyes on the tree.
“I’m a patient man.” Phillip leaned forward on the table. “We can talk more about this later.”
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Daed bellowed. Clearly he’d had enough.
I turned away from the tree, toward my Daed, blinking away the tears and shrugged.
“Go to your room,” Daed barked. “I’ll talk with you later.”
I didn’t bother to say good-bye to Phillip. Instead, I stood and marched away, holding my head as high as I could.
I hoped to get a nap, but Mutter sent Billy up to tell me to come down and finish cleaning the kitchen. I told him to tell Mutter that Daed had sent me to my room. Billy sighed and shuffled out of my room. Ten minutes later he returned.
“Mutter said to come down anyway,” he said.
I complied, of course, trudging down the steps, my bare feet against the cool wood. Just the feel of the oak beneath my soles made me long for Jonathan.
Mutter was still sitting at the table, yawning as I entered the kitchen. “Oh, there you are,” she said. “Carry these boxes back up to my room.”
“Don’t you want to get rid of some of it?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Mutter,” I said. “You just went through all of it. Surely most of it can be burned. Your room can’t hold all this junk.”
“Just take it to my room like I asked,” she said.
I picked up a box, reading the top piece of paper. It was a receipt for hay. I scooted it over. Next was a tax form from a decade before. I groaned. Underneath were her old school papers—from thirty years before.
By the time I cleared everything off the table and cleaned the kitchen, it was time to start supper.
Once the meal was over it was time to clean up again. I busied myself with the task, all the while thinking about Jonathan and then Hannah and then Mervin and then Jonathan again. As I finished, I heard a knock on the screen door.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door pushed open, and Onkel Bob appeared, his hat in his hand.
I congratulated him on his new grandson.
He beamed. “Betsy and little Robert are doing great.”
“Ach, named for you?”
He blushed.
“Of course.” I smiled. “A double congratulations then.”
He said that Betsy would spend the night at the hospital, and then she and the Bobli would head home in the morning. “She’ll be ready for visitors soon,” he said.
“I can’t wait,” I said.
“Are your parents around?”
Relieved, I said, “Jah.” How kind of him, in the midst of becoming a grandfather, to remember my ordeal, although he spoke as if I didn’t have any idea of the purpose for his call. “They’re out on the front porch.”
He nodded. “I’ll go around the side of the house,” he said, stepping back out the door.
“You should know, more has developed,” I said.
“Jah,” he answered. “I saw the Mosiers last night, at the hospital.”
I gave him a quick nod.
“Do your parents know?” he asked.
“Daed does—not about Timothy’s involvement, though. At least I don’t think so. Mutter knows about Hannah, but I think that’s it.”
He nodded. Obviously he’d heard about Hannah too. “All right, then.” He turned back toward the door. “Say a prayer.”
“Jah,” I answered. “Good idea.”
As soon as he left, I scurried up the stairs to Billy and Joe-Joe’s room. Through their window, which I’d opened to cool off their room after dinner, I might be able to hear the conversation below.
I arrived as Onkel Bob made his way to the front porch.
“Bob,” Mutter said, “how nice to see you! Congratulations on your grandson.” My mother was always on her best behavior around my Onkel. She hadn’t been as fond of my Aenti when she was alive, or at least that’s the impression I’d gotten through the years. My guess was she’d been jealous of her.
“Thank you, Laurel. I’m humbled by God’s blessing.” He paused a moment and then said, “Cap, good to see you.” The fall of Onkel Bob’s boots reverberated up the worn stairs and then across the porch to the corner where my parents sat in their favorite chairs. “How are you tonight?”
“Fine, just fine,” Daed responded. “What brings you over this way?” There was an edge of defensiveness in his voice that made my pulse race.
“Oh, just had a few things on my mind.”
“Have anything to do with what happened with the Youngie last night?”
I couldn’t hear Onkel Bob’s answer, and then my mother said something I couldn’t hear either. I moved closer to the window, kneeling down on the floor.
“Like I said, I’ve been meaning to talk with you for a few days. I just wish I had before last night.”
“What’s going on?” Mutter asked. “Is this about Hannah?”
Daed’s voice grew in volume. “You think it would have made a difference if you’d talked to us sooner?”
“Perhaps. It might have stopped Timothy—”
“Timothy? It’s those Mosier boys who’ve stirred things up. Especially since that cousin of theirs moved here.”
“Those Mosier boys are good kids,” Onkel Bob said. “Jonathan too.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“Jah,” Onkel Bob said. “I’ve had a chance to talk with him.”
“One talk will do it, then?” Daed continued without giving Onkel Bob a chance to respond. “Because two decades wasn’t enough for me to know the character of his father.”
“Cap, that was years ago.”
“Not so many,” Mutter said.
“How old is Samuel?” Onkel Bob said. “Seems he’s Cate’s age. So looks as if it’s been more than twenty-five.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of our business,” Daed said.
“This is the community’s business,” Onkel Bob replied. “Someone is apt to be hurt even worse than Mervin was last night—not to mention the ones who have already been hurt emotionally. Plus, you could be standing in the way of God’s will.”
“How about you go talk to Dirk about all this? Then let us know what he says.”
Onkel Bob’s volume fell, and I could barely make out him saying, “I already did.”
Daed boomed, “And?”
I lifted my head a little, hoping to be able to hear my Onkel.
“He said he’d be interested in knowing what you had to say.”
“Seems to me,” Daed said, “you have enough of your own worries right now. I heard that librarian gave you a ride to the hospital last night. I thought she’d been shunned.”
Onkel Bob didn’t answer.
Mutter’s shrill voice piped in with, “How’s that?”
“She used to be Plain,” Daed answered.
“My goodness, Bob Miller!” Mutter exclaimed. “Are you getting serious about her?”
There was a long pause, and then Onkel Bob said, “I came to talk about the Youngie.”
A chair scraped against the porch and footsteps came toward me. “What I’m interested in right now is why my Youngie—my daughter, to be exact—is eavesdropping.”
I froze. How did he know I was listening?
The footsteps stopped. “Bob,” Daed boomed, “maybe you can tell me why Addie is so interested in this conversation.”
“Addie?” It was Onkel Bob’s voice, louder now but calm. “You need to move along. Let me talk with your parents in private.”
I stood, slowly.
“Do you hear me?” Onkel Bob called out.
“Jah,” I answered.
“Young lady,” Daed growled, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Jah,” I said and then under my breath murmured, “I expect you will.” In the last week, I’d gone from never once causing my parents a worry to being the biggest problem in their lives.
CHAPTER
16
I couldn’t wait in my room—if my parents barged in, they might see the hope chest—so I trudged down the stairs to the dim kitchen. I would round up Billy and Joe-Joe and send them up to bed on their own tonight because I couldn’t very well go back in their room now. Then I hoped to slip down to the creek. I was in trouble as it was. I might as well hang out down there until it was time to meet Jonathan.
“Addie.”
I jumped.
Timothy laughed. He was sitting at the table, in Mutter’s chair, eating a piece of pie.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What do you care?” His eyes hung heavy in the dim light. “You’re the one who turned me in.”
“I answered the officers’ questions.”
He snorted. “Even the Mosiers have more sense than you.”
I headed toward the door. “I’m going to call the boys in for bed,” I said.
“Sure you are,” he answered.
I ignored him.
“Jonathan’s not coming tonight,” Timothy called out.
I stopped, my hand on the handle of the screen. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
I put one hand on my hip. “I have no idea.” I wasn’t lying. I had no idea how he could have found out. Unless he tortured Jonathan. “What have you done?”
“Nothing.” He stood. “He’s just not coming.”
“You’re bluffing.”
He laughed. “So he is planning on coming, then?” He headed toward the counter. “It’s as clear as mud you and Jonathan asked Onkel Bob to help you. Even Daed has to know that.”
I opened the screen.
“It’s only going to make things worse, you know, to have Onkel Bob meddling.”
I stepped out on the stoop and yelled, “Billy! Joe-Joe! Time to come in!”
Timothy burped and then, as he put his plate in the sink, said, “Molly went and saw Hannah today.”