by Linda Maran
“I have to go to the shed and gather some more supplies to bring to the store tomorrow,” John announced as he stood.
Everyone got up from the table then, and the morning rush out of the house began until it was just Kristen and Aunt Elizabeth left in the kitchen.
“I wonder if I can speak to you about my mother?”
“Jah, sure. We can talk while we wash the peaches for the pies.”
“Peach pie? Oh, I love that. We used to go to a place called Delicious Orchards just for the peach pies.”
“Vell, these peaches are from Sally Troyer who works with Mary. She gives us some from her orchard each summer. Mary placed a basket full at the door this Mariye. Can you please bring them in?”
Kristen got the peaches and placed them on the countertop. Then the two of them proceeded to wash and slice them.
“So, what is it you want to know about your mamm?”
“I want to know why she left the Plain life.”
Aunt Elizabeth put her knife down. “I ’spect it was because she met your vadder. It must have been a big love that took a strong hold of her because she never looked back.”
“What do you mean?”
“She never wrote to us. Not even to Jacob Mast, whom she’d been courting when she left. When Jacob came back from helping at his onkle’s farm in Pennsylvania, she was gone. We didn’t have much information to give him except she left for the Englisch world with an Englisch man.”
“So, my dad wasn’t Amish, then?”
“Nee. I think your Aenti Miriam thought Ross was your vadder. Now we all know that’s not the case. She must have met him in New Jersey.”
“If Mom didn’t leave a note, how do you know she left with Ross?”
“She told your aenti Miriam when she saw your mamm and Ross talking friendly like at the farm stand. Your mamm gave her a note to give to our mamm and daed to break the news to them. I never saw the note, but Miriam knew what it said. Our mamma cried, and then they never spoke of your mamm again. Our sister, Emily, had been shunned.”
“Does that mean she was like a black sheep to the family?”
“Nee, more like a stray sheep. Had she come back repentant for what she’d done, she’d have been velkumed into the church and at home again. It’s a process, but she would have been forgiven and accepted. She never came back. And even though our mamma never spoke of it, we knew that her heart was broken. She missed her youngest dochter awful bad.”
“Do you think Aunt Miriam can tell me more?”
“I don’t know. She might not be wanting to tell you if your mamm asked her to keep a confidence. She never told me much more than I’m telling you now.”
“Did my mother seem happy here before she left with Ross?” Maybe she had been so miserable she left with the first man who could take her away.
“Jah, she was always smiling and a happy sort. She loved to pick wildflowers and she could sew wonderful quilts. Took after her grossmammi with that gift.”
“So, you don’t think she left with Ross because she was unhappy here?”
Aunt Elizabeth picked up her knife again and shook her head before slicing another peach.
“It seems like a big mystery to me, especially since she never told me she was Amish. If she loved it here, why wouldn’t she talk about her good experiences?”
“Maybe she was trying to forget her former life because she’d made a choice. It’s a hard thing being caught between two worlds, I ’spect.”
Didn’t she know it.
Kristen nodded. Though this wasn’t enough information to satisfy her hungry curiosity. She’d have to pay Aunt Miriam a visit with the hope that she would still be in a pleasant mode toward her.
She and Aunt Elizabeth brought the sliced peaches to the table where they were to add the sugar, molasses, flour, and butter her aunt had set out.
“I remember my mom baked great pies when I was little. Especially on holidays. But once she began work at the hotel, there wasn’t time for her to do that anymore. I was too little to learn how to make them.”
“You’ll learn to make gut pies in no time, niece. It’s in your blood.”
“Did you all live here in this house?”
“Nee. This haus belonged to the familye of my first husband, Abe. Our mamm and daed went to live with our brudder, Amos, and his wife in Ohio. So it was only Miriam left at the haus we were grown in, which is where she still resides only a short ride from here. After our daed passed, your aenti asked our mamm if she could stay on and rent the haus. That was fine with Mamma, but she refused to take any rent from her dochter. Instead, she asked all of us if Aenti Miriam could stay on at the haus as if it were her own. All she had to do was pay for running the place. We all had our own homes, so none of us objected.” Aunt Elizabeth looked up, as if calling back to past times.
“I’ve lived here since my marriage to Abe, even as a widow. We made some gut memories, even though the marriage was short-lived. Then after a spell, your Onkle Jonas brought John for me to mind after my dearest friend, Fannie, John’s mamma, died birthin’ him. Some months later, after much letter writing, your onkle came to join me here. We were both given a second chance and were happy for it.”
“The two of you always look happy with each other without even saying a word. That’s something I wished I could have seen between my mom and dad, whoever he is.”
“You mustn’t be bitter, Kristen. We don’t know who or where he is and what happened between him and your mamm.” Aunt Elizabeth gave Kristen a wad of dough to roll out. “Dust it with some flour first so it won’t stick to the rolling pin.”
She did as her aunt advised. “I never questioned my mom about him much. She’d just say the same answer each time anyway. By the time I reached my teens, I stopped asking. But now I feel as if I need to know exactly why he abandoned us.”
“Maybe we’ll find out something later at the bishop’s haus.”
“The bishop’s house?” Kristen stopped kneading the dough.
“Jah. Seems he wants to read your mamm’s letter to us as she’d instructed in her will.”
That might be an easier way to get answers to the questions she couldn’t release. Either that or she’d find out things she might not want to know.
~*~
Dinner was quiet. John kept thinking about his self-righteous response to Kristen, that he was not her rock. At least she hadn’t seemed offended. He was only trying to stop himself from hugging her hurt away. Honoring his daed’s wishes by keeping her at arms’ length. Literally. Although, he truly believed that God was, indeed, her rock; his rock, everyone’s rock. He wanted Kristen to know the peace of the Lord in her time of trouble. But he also wanted to be by her side and be a support to her. Yes, like a rock. He should have told her exactly that. She reached out to him, and he’d shrunk back.
“Kristen, please pass me the green beans, please?” John needed to speak to her even if it was simple table talk. Anyone could see she was a nervous wreck about the bishop’s invitation of the familye to his home tonacht.
Kristen lifted the bowl next to her and passed it over Anna to John. She said nothing.
“Don’t you want any?”
“No, thank you. I’m not that hungry.”
Great! This attempt at conversation was not working. Best he just eat his dinner and not prod any further before his desperate efforts become obvious to the others.
“Aunt Miriam, will you be coming to the bishop’s house too?”
“Jah, Kristen. We’ll all be with you. No need for getting naerfich.”
“I can’t help being nervous, if that’s what naerfich means.”
“You’re starting to learn Pennsylvania Dutch, gut, niece.” Aunt Miriam smiled at her.
John kept his eyes on his plate of food as he spooned mashed potatoes into his mouth and listened to the conversation.
Daniel told about the projects he’d completed at the store and Mary about the batch of under-sweetened ruined pies at th
e diner. Mamm and Daed nodded with a few comments now and then while Anna interjected every few minutes with a question.
Everyone seemed to be stalling to get dinner finished and go off to the Bishop’s place. John was going regardless of how Kristen felt about it. They were going as a family.
“Vell, we best be getting ready for our visit with Bishop Ebersol.” Daed stood and pushed his chair in.
John glanced at Kristen and her eyes met his. He wanted to say many things to her. Wanted to calm her nerves. But all he could think to do was fold his hands in a gesture of prayer to remind her that God was with her. He wished he could point to his heart, too, but Daed didn’t miss a thing.
Kristen remained in her chair looking at him for a moment, her expression serious and pensive. She nodded, folded her hands in the same prayerful gesture back to him, smiled, and stood to go.
~*~
The bishop introduced his wife, Madeline, to Kristen before they all took a seat at the long table laden with several pies and plates of iced cookies. Madeline let Anna and her young daughter, Susanne, take a few cookies, and then go off into another room.
A knock at the door, followed by Madeline’s voice and approaching footsteps, brought in two other guests.
Kristen jerked up straight, surprised at the two people who joined them at the table.
Jacob Mast gave her and her family a nod, but his sister, Katie, sat down and kept her eyes on the bishop. She acknowledged no one. Why was she here?
John gave Kristen a glance, his hands on the table. He touched his two index fingers together.
Pray. She knew that’s what he was silently telling her to do. And she also knew that he was doing exactly that. For her.
OK, then. I’ll pray to You, God. But I have no words to say, except please help me get through this, no matter what happens here. And if you can hear me, Mom, I wish you’d told me whatever it is you wrote in your letters. Then none of this would be happening now.
Madeline came in with a pot of coffee and invited everyone to partake in the desserts sitting before them.
Kristen nibbled on a cookie to be polite. She couldn’t stand to swallow a thing with her stomach churning so hard.
Onkle Jonas took a piece of blueberry pie as did Jacob Mast, while the others reached for the cookies.
Bishop Ebersol finished off his snack then cleared his throat after a final gulp of coffee. Everyone looked up as he unfolded three sheets of paper. Mom’s letter.
“Emily Esh wrote this letter to be given to the presiding bishop of this district in the event of her death to be read to her familye. Since I am your bishop at this time, it is my duty to see fit to carry out her final wish. Here is what she writes…
My dear family and friends,
I have lived with a hurt and a lie in my heart for many years, thinking at first, that it was my only choice to give my dear dochter, Kristen, a respectable gut life. If I knew then what I came to know now, I would have chosen a different path. I would be the Amish frau and mamm I was meant to be. But instead, I panicked and took a live-in help position with an Englischer I’d befriended at the Amish Country Commons Store. I didn’t consider that he might have had feelings for me which could have been why he’d made the offer to take me into his home. My heart was only for one man. Jacob Mast, the father of my dochter, Kristen, and my eheman...my husband.
Gasps sounded one after the other, and Kristen’s vision blurred. She could barely keep her ragged breath from choking her throat closed. Aunt Elizabeth put an arm around her. She heard murmuring now but didn’t dare look up at Jacob. Her…her…biological father and Mom’s husband? How could that be when her mother had been married to her father? This was him? And he’d abandoned her? She braced herself for more.
Jacob and I didn’t want to slip up and take our love too far too soon. We did not want to sin in the eyes of God and the church. But we so wanted to be together, and it was a long wait until autumn for a young couple in lieb. So, we went to the next county to an Amish settlement and got married by the new bishop there. We told him that Jacob had to leave for work in Pennsylvania, and we’d already come too close to acting like man and wife and wanted to love one another fully the right way, in the eyes of God, before he left. We promised to tell our bishop and family and have a small wedding celebration once Jacob returned from helping his onkle repair the insides of the haus and barn since it was not sufficient to keep the bitter cold out. It would only be a few weeks, but to us it seemed forever.
Jacob promised he’d send a letter for me to give to Mamm and Daed when I decided to tell them our news. He also said he’d send for me after I told them so that we could spend a night or two together. I had no idea that I’d never hear from him again. By the end of February, I knew I was with child.
The bishop paused to take a sip of water. Not a sound was heard other than his swallow. He cleared his throat and resumed.
Katie went with Jacob to Pennsylvania to help with the cooking. I figured he’d told his sister of our marriage, so I decided to use our phone shanty to call there and ask about my unanswered letters.
Jacob gave me the number in case of an emergency. Said they kept a phone in the shed since his onkle took ill. Katie answered. She told me that Jacob was already out in one of the buildings working on the insulation. So, I asked her if my letters had been received, and she said they had. Since Jacob never responded, I’d assumed that he panicked after we married and then all the more when he’d read that I was carrying his child. Maybe he feared people would think our marriage was due to being in the family way instead of our desire to love one another as God intended. I didn’t know what to think.
Kristen closed her eyes. Maybe the next time she opened them, she’d awake to another reality.
The bishop kept reading.
She wanted to plug her ears.
Ross came regularly to buy preserves and pies at my little counter in the store. Each Saturday he was there bright and early as March came in, even with the harsh cold winds and occasional snow squalls. We’d speak a bit and by season’s end, we became casual friends. I needed to relate my situation to someone. All I’d wanted was a little advice and a sympathetic ear. Maybe some information about one of those places where unwed mothers go for help and shelter before my condition became obvious. But what he offered was much more than that. A job cleaning and cooking, along with a home for me and my child. A new life where I could forget the memories of Jacob. I knew I’d never be given such a chance again. But before I decided, I had to try to find Jacob. Make sure he no longer wanted me to be his frau. So, I booked a bus ticket to Lancaster for that Monday and told my family that I was making a day visit to Katie. Which was, in fact, part of the truth.
When I got there, bright and early the next day, Katie seemed shocked to see me. She ushered me inside the warm haus as if I were something not to be seen or heard. When we were seated at the kitchen table she told me Jacob wasn’t there. That she had no idea where he’d gone. It’d been weeks, she said. And she’d been caring for his onkle all the while. I asked about my letters—if any of them had arrived before he left. She said they had. After he’d gone, she’d saved the rest for whenever he’d be back. I could barely get down the pie and tea she set before me. I called a taxi and headed for the next bus back home. I knew what I had to do.”
Katie’s shoulders shook; her face and eyes downward.
Kristen felt like whopping her behind the head. How could she do that? The bishop went on.
My sister, Miriam, ran into us at the Amish Country Commons a couple times, so I ended up telling her that I was with child, and that I’d be going away to work for Ross in the Englisch world. I know she assumed Ross Maddok was the father, and I left it at that. It was less complicated, and I didn’t want to hurt Jacob’s reputation if he ever returned to Palatine. She promised never to tell a soul that I was with child when I left.
Jacob had his head down with closed eyes as he listened.
Aunt Mir
iam’s hand covered her mouth.
Kristen couldn’t stop her bottom lip from trembling. No more, Mom. I don’t want to hear it! But the words kept coming.
17
The bishop turned the page. No one stirred. It was as if everyone was listening to the reading of a good novel. But this was about her mother.
Aunt Elizabeth squeezed her hand.
Kristen turned to her in silent gratitude.
Since Jacob never contacted me, not even once, I had two choices. I could be on my own without a father for my child and be the speculation of the community for years to come. Or I could go away and work for Ross Maddok with a roof over my head and save face for all of us. I decided on the latter.
Katie sobbed.
Kristen didn’t know whether to take pity on her or give her a good piece of her mind. She looked away and remained silent, praying that this letter would come to its end. Now.
I told Ross straight away, that I belonged to Jacob Mast and would always love him. He understood that we would live as employer and employee. He accepted my terms when he took me to his haus by the ocean in Bradley Beach, New Jersey. When Kristen was born, he asked if I would consider an annulment of my marriage to marry him, but I explained that Amish marry for life. It was the only time he’d asked or made any show of affection toward me. But Ross continued to be kind even though he was away from home more often from that time on. He treated Kristen as if she were his own. I bear no grudge in my heart for Ross’s long ongoing relationship with Mattie Cook. He needed a woman to love him, and I would never be that for him.
Kristen glanced up at surprised faces. Somehow this didn’t really shock her. She’d rarely see Ross around on weekends. And he and her mom acted like friends, never more than that, despite her wishes otherwise.