by Beth Wiseman
“Ya, I understand.”
He eased the door to his mother’s room open. All was quiet, just the sounds of the air machine keeping his mother alive, the beeps on the monitors . . . and Aunt Faye’s raspy snoring from the lounging chair. The lingering smell of pickled oysters hung in the air.
Daniel walked to the side of his mother’s bed, then leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. This was the first time he’d been alone with her. Almost alone, just Aunt Faye in dreamland nearby.
“I love you, Mamm,” he whispered. “And we miss you.” He found her hand and put it in his. He stayed standing, holding his mother’s hand, until Aunt Faye awakened.
“What are you doing here so early?” Aunt Faye’s gray hair was a balled-up mess on top of her head, and her eyes were dark and puffy. It looked like she’d been crying.
“I came to relieve you. Annie needs you at home, to help with the boppli and Daed.” Daniel and Annie had agreed this was the best way to handle their aunt.
“Is your father giving you children trouble already?” Aunt Faye sat on the edge of the chair, pushing hair from her face. “I thought I made it clear to him how things were going to be.”
Daniel held his tongue, opting not to tell his aunt that she was being thrown out. “It’s just a lot for Annie, that’s all. And I think you’d be a bigger help to her than me. I don’t have any jobs scheduled for a few days, so I can sit with Mamm.”
“Well, of course I’ll be a bigger help to Annie than you will.” Aunt Faye grunted. “Women invariably take up the slack when a man becomes too emotionally disabled to go on. It’s what’s expected of us, and we deliver.” She cut her eyes at Daniel. “And men don’t.” She pointed a long, crooked finger at him. “And you don’t just sit here with your mamm. You need to talk to her. Sing to her, if you can carry a tune. I realize most folks can’t sing the way I can, but you can at least try.”
Daniel nodded. Despite leaving the Old Order, being shunned, and her husband dying, Aunt Faye still loved her niece very much. But as Daniel looked at the person who used to be his mother, shriveling into a lifeless form he didn’t recognize, he again wondered if they were doing the right thing by allowing this to go on.
“I’m taking my pickled oysters with me, the ones left in my little ice chest.” Aunt Faye pointed to a small red cooler nearby. “Every time I take some out and put them on a plate, they vanish.” She shook her head as more hair toppled from the loose bun on her head. “If those nurses would just ask politely, I would make them their own batch, but they are a catty bunch out there.” She nodded toward the door. “They’re constantly complaining about something.”
Daniel knew the nurses disposed of the oysters when the smell became too rank. He suspected the vanishing oysters went missing while Aunt Faye was snoring. She stood and brushed wrinkles from her light green dress. Her clothing was Mennonite, so her dresses were adorned with little flowers or other patterns. And she wasn’t bothered if she didn’t have her head covered.
“I’ll go tend to your father, sister, and baby Grace.” Aunt Faye scowled. “And you try to make good use of the time you’re here.” His aunt rolled her eyes before she left the room.
Daniel hoped she’d walk quietly by the nurse’s station without causing a ruckus. He cringed when he heard Aunt Faye out in the hallway. Yodeling.
Andrea sat perfectly still on the couch, unsure how to react to Blake’s text. Her ex-boyfriend often fooled people into thinking he was someone he wasn’t. He had a steadiness about him that would imply he rarely got ruffled. And he was handsome in a cowboy sort of way, with a gentle smile that lent him an air of trustworthiness. Blake was confident and friendly, but he had some anger issues that rose to the surface from time to time. But would he really hurt Bella or me?
She reread the text for the tenth time.
I’m warning you, Andrea. If you get me in trouble with the police, you’ll be sorry.
After staring at his text for a while, she reread the one she’d sent him.
You stole Charlotte’s money, you scumbag. We are reporting you to the police, and I hope you rot in jail. I knew you were nothing but trash. You might fool some people, but you don’t fool me. Don’t come around me or my family again.
Andrea tapped a finger to her chin as she contemplated a reply. Finally she sent him a return text.
Are you threatening me?
She waited.
Not a threat, babe. A promise.
A shiver ran the length of Andrea’s spine. Whether or not Blake was capable of violence, she couldn’t risk it because of Bella. She chose not to reply, but after about ten minutes, she got another text.
Meet me tomorrow afternoon outside the Amish Market at three o’clock. And bring Bella. I miss her.
Andrea stared at the text, then she looked at Bella playing with two toy cars on the floor. No more texting with Blake. Andrea was just going to put her past behind her.
She picked up her box of beads and matched up three pink ones to make into a necklace, but her phone buzzed beside her.
And you better be there.
Andrea shivered as she thought about whether or not to tell Charlotte about this. Charlotte didn’t want her to try to get the money back. She said to leave it alone. But I didn’t.
Charlotte stopped in town after church service. She needed milk and cream cheese for a holiday recipe she wanted to try out later. Maybe she could snap out of the funk she had settled into. Even a good night’s sleep hadn’t diminished the disappointment she felt about Daniel not proposing.
When she got home and opened the front door, Bella was crying, Andrea had her face in her hands on the couch, and the fire had died out.
“What’s wrong?” Charlotte put her purse and grocery bag on the coffee table when Bella ran to her, arms stretched above her head. She scooped her niece into her arms.
“Nothing’s wrong. Bella is just fussy, and I’ve got a headache.”
“Sweet girl, you’re okay.” Charlotte bounced Bella on her hip until she calmed down. “Mommy just has a headache.”
Andrea’s bottom lip trembled, though, and Charlotte suspected more was going on. “Are you sure that’s all, just a headache?”
“It’s not just a headache. It hurts.”
“There’s aspirin in the bathroom. Did you take some?” Charlotte sat in the rocking chair, Bella in her lap, and kicked the chair into motion.
“No. I’ll go get some.” Andrea huffed as she stood, then shuffled toward the bathroom.
Charlotte stopped rocking when Andrea’s text beeped with a new message. Instinctively, Charlotte looked that way, and she could see the message from where she was sitting.
I’m not kidding, Andrea. You better be at the Amish Market at three o’clock tomorrow . . . or else.
Charlotte hadn’t realized her sister and Blake were still communicating.
“I took two ibuprofen,” Andrea said as she walked back into the living room. “Do you think that’s enough?”
“Um . . . yeah. Probably so.” Charlotte nodded toward the phone. “You have a text.” She narrowed her eyebrows, frowning. “And I saw it. What does ‘or else’ mean?”
Andrea grunted as she rolled her eyes. “Really? You read my text message?”
“Your phone is sitting in plain view. What does that mean, Andrea?” Charlotte’s heart raced as she clung to Bella. Something in her gut told her trouble was brewing.
“Nothing. It’s just Blake being a jerk. No worries, okay?”
Too late. Charlotte was already concerned. But, for now, she’d let it go.
Daniel sat in a chair beside his mother, praying silently for God to interject wisdom and guidance into a situation Daniel and his family didn’t know how to handle. More and more, he thought they were doing his mother an injustice by not letting her go home to be with the Lord. Lena’s words stayed on Daniel’s mind, how she wouldn’t want to be kept alive in this way.
“Mamm, what should we do?” Daniel leaned c
loser to her. “We want to do the right thing.”
Did it even matter? Ultimately, it was their father’s decision, and he was having no part of unhooking her from these machines.
Each day felt like a new day of mourning, grieving a life still on earth, but one that was gone just the same.
As the familiar churning started up in his stomach, Daniel switched gears, turning his thoughts to Charlotte, how beautiful she’d looked the night before. He’d wanted nothing more than to drop to one knee, to beg her to stay with him for a lifetime, and to be the mother of his children. But Charlotte continued to have a lot on her plate, and so did Daniel. They could both find comfort in each other, handling things together, but he wanted to tread softly. Charlotte had come a long way. But the woman Daniel loved still hadn’t committed to converting to the Amish way of life.
He wished he could talk to his mother.
Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to rest his head against the back of the chair, his breathing in rhythm with the beeping machines and bursts of air from the ventilator.
He looked up when he heard his name. “Wie bischt, Jacob.” Daniel stifled a yawn. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. “What brings you here this afternoon?” His heart skipped a beat. “Is Lena okay?”
“Ya, ya. Mamm is doing gut today. Annie told me you were here, and I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” Daniel stayed seated and motioned to the other chair.
Jacob sat and heaved a sigh. “Do you think people can change?”
Daniel was sure this was going to be about Jacob wanting to reunite with Annie, citing himself as a changed man. “Ya, I think so.”
The lines on young Jacob’s forehead wrinkled as he scratched his chin. “I think I’ve changed. I don’t feel the need to leave here, to leave our people. I want to make a home in Lancaster County, like all the generations before me.” He searched Daniel’s eyes. “A home with Annie.”
Frowning, Daniel sighed also. “Jacob, you’ve gone back and forth so many times about this, it makes a person wonder if you have a clue what you want. Have you told Annie this?”
“I haven’t formally asked her to marry me, but I want to prove myself to her by getting baptized soon. I had the baptismal classes a long time ago, and I spoke with the bishop about it. He said even though it’s the holidays and not the normal time for baptisms, he would make an exception.”
Daniel felt one of the many loads he was carrying lighten a little. Although he figured the bishop’s expedience was probably out of fear that young Jacob would change his mind again. “I think that’s a fine idea, if you’re sure about it.”
“I’m sure,” Jacob responded without the hesitation Daniel had expected.
Jacob had left to seek out the world and apparently decided it wasn’t for him. But throughout it all, Daniel still thought of Jacob as a good person, no matter his wishy-washy ways when it came to leaving or staying in their district.
Jacob hung his head. “And there’s something else. I wasn’t completely honest about my job.” He kept his eyes down. “Ya, I worked for a pharmaceutical company, but the medications weren’t the kind that save lives, like I’d thought at first. I was more of what the Englisch call a ‘drug runner,’ someone who delivers illegal medications to people that will pay a lot of money for them. And I wasn’t very good at it. The Big Rabbit”—Jacob looked up—“that’s the man in charge—he fired me. He said I looked nervous all the time. I wasn’t nervous in the beginning, but that’s before I knew what I was delivering.”
He paused as his bottom lip trembled. “I ain’t proud of what I’ve done. I’m just trying to be honest. I did some bad stuff. It’s behind me, and I want to be baptized and marry Annie. I’m going to tell her everything so there are no secrets between us. I’m a changed man. I’ve seen the outside world, and I know for sure that I don’t want any part of it.”
“I hope you mean that, because I don’t think Annie’s heart can go another round with you, Jacob. Even now, I’m not sure she’ll believe you.”
“And that’s something I may have to work on. But I just wanted you to know my intentions.”
“I appreciate that.” Daniel wondered if maybe Jacob should have had this conversation with Daed, but this was probably better under the circumstances.
Jacob stood and walked closer to the hospital bed. “I’m real sorry about Eve. We pray for her every day, the same way we pray for the Lord to heal Mamm.”
“Danki. We pray for Lena too.”
Daniel waited until Jacob was gone before he picked up his cell phone to call Charlotte. He got her voice mail. Again. She had left him a message earlier and told him about a meeting that Andrea had tomorrow morning with her ex-boyfriend, the man Daniel had met at Janell’s funeral, Blake. Charlotte said she was worried about Andrea going, based on a text message she’d seen.
Daniel called a couple hours later and there was still no answer. He couldn’t in good conscience leave his mother. He’d just have to keep trying to reach Charlotte.
Eighteen
Andrea walked with Charlotte to the front door, holding Bella.
“I’m relieved you’re not going to meet Blake today,” Charlotte said. “The tone of his text message makes me nervous.” She’d allowed herself an extra thirty minutes to stop at Walmart to get more minutes on her phone before going to work.
Andrea shrugged. “I’d like to think I’ve outgrown Blake. I shouldn’t have texted him, but . . .”
“No, you shouldn’t have. But just let it go.” Charlotte heaved her purse up on her shoulder. “Sometimes, it’s better that way.”
“See, you’re like them.” Andrea smiled, bouncing Bella on her hip.
“Like who?” She pushed the screen door open but paused and waited for Andrea to answer.
“Like the Amish. I bet there was a time in your life when you would have wanted revenge or justice if someone stole something from you. But now, you’re passive, like the Amish.”
Charlotte smiled a little. “I guess so, but I’m surprised you knew that. I didn’t think you knew much about the Amish.”
“I didn’t. But I’ve been Googling stuff about them since you’re going to be one of them.”
“I’m not joining a cult or a dystopian universe. I’m accepting a religion with ideals I believe in.”
Andrea twisted her mouth back and forth. “Hmm, I just wonder, though . . . would you be thinking about joining their group if you didn’t want to marry Daniel?”
Charlotte looked over her shoulder past Andrea, at the clock on the mantel. She needed to get going, but this was an important question that deserved an honest answer. “I don’t know.”
Andrea grinned. “I figured you would say yes, but I would have known you were lying.”
Charlotte’s stomach roiled like she’d been sucker punched. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t convert. I said I didn’t know.”
“Same thing.”
Charlotte kissed Bella on the cheek, wished them both a good day, then headed to Big Red, her heart heavy. How would she really know that baptism into the faith wasn’t strictly motivated by her relationship with Daniel? And if it were, was that such a bad thing?
Driving to work, she started to wonder if she could get off early today. There was only one person she could think to talk to, someone who could help her with this dilemma.
Three o’clock came and went, and Andrea breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t gotten a text message from Blake. As she lay Bella on the bed for her nap, she thought about the life she was leaving behind: dishonest people like Blake, abusive folks like her adoptive parents, and a bunch of druggies with no life purpose.
I’m going to be different.
She went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out the gallon of chocolate milk. As she took a glass from the cabinet, she heard horse hooves crunching dry gravel as someone came up the driveway. Andrea quickly poured a glass of milk and put the container back. She
was headed to the front door, but when she saw her visitor, she ducked into the mudroom out of sight.
Edna Glick marched across the yard toting a basket draped over one arm.
Andrea cringed. She’d confronted Edna, and she wasn’t in the mood to face the woman head-on today.
Edna knocked several times. She had to know Charlotte was at work. Big Red wasn’t in the driveway, and Charlotte worked at her office most days. Then why the visit? Edna’s way of making peace with me?
When Andrea heard footsteps descending down the porch steps, she tiptoed into the living room, staying clear of the window, until she was close enough to pull back the closed blind and peek out with one eye. She eased out of view when Edna started to look around the yard, but then took another peek.
Edna walked to her buggy, stashed the basket, and returned to the yard with a shovel.
This time, Andrea was going to let her carry out the task.
A few minutes later, Edna pulled out the metal box and brought it to her chest. The woman’s shoulders gently rose and fell. Edna was crying.
Andrea hadn’t known Ethan. But he was her brother. What did he see in Edna besides a pretty face?
Andrea opened the wooden door, then the screen. Edna jumped and ran to her buggy.
“Don’t run away this time! I know it’s you, Edna, so you might as well stop.”
Edna untethered her horse, the box under one arm. “I’m not stealing anything,” she said as Andrea got within hearing range.
“I didn’t say you were.” Andrea stopped a few feet from her. Would the woman open the box now or wait until she got home?
“I—I buried something here a long time ago, and now I need it.” Edna swiped at her eyes, glanced at Andrea once, then gave the horse a pat on the nose before she walked to the driver’s side of the buggy.
“You had a relationship with Ethan.” Andrea folded her arms across her chest as Edna lifted herself into the seat. “Charlotte told me.”