Saving Susannah

by Beverly Bird

  “I always do.”

  So they were back to that again. But it seemed to her that maybe there was a little less resentment in the girl’s tone this time. Kim turned away and started rummaging through some stuff on the counter, looking for her keys.

  “Where’re you going?” Susannah asked, snapping her head up from her plate when she heard the telltale jingle.

  “I have some errands to do. Hannah needs formula. And I want to call Uncle Jake.” She would swing by Adam’s house on the way, to check on Matt. “Do you feel okay?”

  Susannah rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

  Please, God, Kim prayed, let her just keep thinking I’m a nuisance and always answer just like that. Then she realized what she was doing, and her throat squeezed shut.

  “Well,” she answered tightly, “I won’t be long.”

  She went outside. She felt as though she was escaping, and that made her feel guilty. Then she looked up at Joe on the barn roof. She’d crossed the road when she hadn’t meant to, moving past the Mazda. She stopped beneath him and stared up. When it began to seem that he was going to pretend she wasn’t there, she called to him. He finally looked down.

  “I’m going to run into the village and get some more formula,” she said.

  “Do you need money?”

  “I still have my own,” she said. “The money you wouldn’t let me use for the ibuprofen.”

  “That’s yours.”

  “Yeah, well, I owe you for the medicine.”

  To his credit, he sidestepped that argument.

  “You can’t get formula in Divinity,” he said. “You’ll have to go into Strasberg for that, too.”

  “That’s okay. I can pick up something for dinner while I’m there. We can heat it up later.”

  He appeared vaguely alarmed. “Dinner? You mean supper? Tonight?”

  She frowned. “Well, yes.”

  “What kind of supper?”

  “I don’t know. What do you feel like?”

  Beef, he thought. A mountain of it. With gravy. And mashed potatoes. Corn. Maybe some of Deb Stoltzfus’s beans. That Mexican stuff Jacob had bought earlier in the week was still burning a hole in his gut.

  “Chinese?” she suggested when he didn’t answer.

  “What’s in it?”

  She eyed him strangely. “Well, vegetables. A lot of vegetables.”

  “Can you get some with meat?”

  “Sure.”

  “Uh, okay. That would be fine.”

  She nodded and started to turn away. Then she looked back. “Joe,” she said again.

  He hadn’t started working yet. He was just holding the hammer, watching her. She couldn’t read his expression.

  “None of this is Dinah’s fault,” she ventured.

  Color burned into his face. He began hammering again. Hard.

  “Joe!” she shouted over the clamor.

  “What?” he growled.

  “Lunch is on the table.”

  “It’s called ‘dinner,”’ he snapped.

  “Not when I do it.” She turned back to the Mazda.

  “What did you do?” he shouted after her.

  “Do?” She paused and looked back.

  “What did you make to eat?” he asked. “For this lunchdinner-whatever.”

  “Egg salad sandwiches.”

  “Sandwiches? I need fuel, woman. I’ve got three more roofs to do.”

  Kim looked around at the buildings. Their shingles were clearly visible in the sun. They were even, in neat, perfect lines. In good condition. She shook her head.

  “No, you don’t. Go have lunch, Joe.”

  She found Matt eating leftover fried chicken with Adam and Mariah and Bo. Admittedly, it appeared a lot more appetizing than her sandwiches. Kim made sure Matt wasn’t being a pest and left that branch of the Wallace clan munching happily.

  She went back to the drugstore in Strasberg, and was relieved to find that the cashier who’d witnessed her scrap with Joe the other day wasn’t on duty. She bought three packages of disposable diapers and a carton of formula, and pretty much wiped out her money. Afterward, she stopped at a pay phone on the street—one that looked like a pay phone—and called the 800 number Jake had given her. Katya answered. He hadn’t seen Grete yet. He was going to drive out to Peace Valley this afternoon. He’d put Susannah’s bulletin on the web site that morning. Kim thanked her and hung up.

  She didn’t want to go back to the farm, she realized. Here was civilization. Here was normalcy. Automobiles. Horns. Voices. If people had problems, they kept them to themselves the way she had done for too many years to count. At least, she thought, until fate had finally landed her a good one, a problem she couldn’t fix on her own, and she had landed in Joe’s lap.

  She put that out of her mind.

  She found the Chinese restaurant Jake had mentioned and spent the last of her cash. Finally, reluctantly, she drove back to the settlement.

  Joe was no longer on the roof when she got home. He was whitewashing a fence that already gleamed in the sun. She got out of the car and crossed to him, jiggling the keys nervously in her hand.

  “Get everything you needed?” he asked without looking up.

  “This isn’t going to work, Joe.”

  He put the paintbrush down carefully. “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t keep avoiding me like this. It’s me, isn’t it? It’s not the house. And it’s not Dinah.”

  “It’s you,” he said bluntly. “And God help me, I have to. I can’t let myself...want...like...grow fond of you.” He fumbled with the words.

  They both felt it at the same time. For Kim, it was a leap of something warm in the area of her heart. Part of it was purely a feminine response to the meaning in his words. There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t be flattered at being desired, she thought, especially by a man like him. She was just... normal. It didn’t mean she had any intention of following up on it.

  But it was more than that. The warmth burned fast into heat, and it left her with a breathless feeling, as if everything inside her was suspended and waiting. She thought she might actually have gasped.

  For Joe, there was a moment of embarrassment that he had spoken so honestly. He thought painfully that if he lived to be ninety, he would never learn to be suave and clever with women. Then relief washed through him, because he had spoken, because there it was, on the table. He found her attractive. And he was damned if he was going to do a thing about it.

  They both began talking at the same time.

  “What changed?” she demanded. “Why? We were fine—”

  “Were we?”

  She flushed, remembering too many moments—the car ride to the hospital, his strong arms closing around her in comfort that wasn’t quite just comfort. No, she thought, they hadn’t been “fine” at all.

  “As long as there were other people here,” she began.

  “Being alone—”

  “It’s awkward.”

  “Like throwing the barn light on a bull making his rounds at midnight.”

  They both broke off. They looked at each other, then away. It certainly wasn’t the analogy she would have used, and that was so typical, she felt absurdly like crying. It just proved why any attraction between them would be... hopeless.

  “As long as we’re aware of it—” Joe began again.

  “We’re two grown adults,” she interrupted. “We’re not a couple of hormone-wild kids.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “I mean, it’s not like we...we haven’t even...”

  “No,” he said again.

  “Of course not.”

  She let out a sigh.

  He rubbed his beard.

  Change the subject, she told herself, before she started to imagine those big, work-roughened hands on her skin. He was a farmer, for God’s sake, an Amish farmer! They hadn’t a thing in common in the world. But his hands...

  Think of something else to say, he ordered himself, be
fore he could start to imagine the soft warmth of her against his straining body. She was an anner Satt Leit woman. A cocktail waitress! And even if it wasn’t too soon, even if he hadn’t killed his own wife with his selfishness and wasn’t bitterly ashamed at that, this particular woman couldn’t possibly want him back.

  “So,” she said awkwardly.

  “I...uh, I was thinking.”

  She latched on to the opening. “What about?”

  “While I was working. I was thinking about this business of taking blood from the community. Tomorrow is Church Sunday. But next Sunday everyone will have free time. We only have services every other Sunday and we only ever spend off Sundays with our families. Friends. Visiting, you know.”

  “Oh. Well, sure. That sounds like a good time to do it.”

  “I think so.”

  “I’ll tell Dr. Coyle when I call him this afternoon.”

  He looked up at the sky. “What time is it?”

  Kim glanced at her watch. “A little after three. I’m going to do some laundry, then I’ll run down to the phone booth to call him.” She started to turn away, then she froze. “Please tell me you have a washing machine.”

  “Behind that door that’s on the east wall of the kitchen.”

  “Thank God.”

  “It’s powered by the generator just outside that wall there. I’ll go give it a kick to start it.”

  “Thanks.”

  He fell into step beside her. It was better, much better, than having him avoid her, she thought. Things were all cleared up between them now. This arrangement was going to be just fine.

  “No dryer, though,” he added.

  She missed a step. “Of course not. That would be too easy.”

  “There’s a rope strung off the side of the house to that willow tree.” The one that reminded him of her, he thought. “Sarah hung everything there.” Never knowing that she was going to die, he thought, that another woman was going to come into her home to take care of her children and hang clothing there and make her husband feel randy.

  They collected the various bags from the trunk of Kim’s Mazda and headed into the house.

  “We’re going to be fine, Joe.” This time Kim said the words aloud.

  “Sure.”

  He believed that until he reached the kitchen and opened a carton of the Chinese food to sneak a peek while she wasn’t looking. He found only slivers of meat amid the vegetables—not even a decent mouthful.

  Chapter 12

  On Sunday morning, while Kim was struggling and swearing at the woodstove again, she heard the bathroom door creak open. She looked up as Joe stepped into the kitchen. This time, at least, he had a towel slung around his neck. She was going to have to talk to him about wearing a shirt, she thought as frissons of a now almost familiar heat shot through her. Then she rubbed her temples. Mentioning it, admitting that it made enough of an impression on her that she would mention it, had its downside, too. Especially after what had happened yesterday afternoon.

  How had this gotten so complicated?

  She dropped her hands with a sigh. “’Morning,” she said, reminding herself that everything had been ironed out between them.

  Joe nodded and stated the obvious. “It’s Church Sunday.”

  “Yes. You said.” She wondered inanely if he wandered around half-naked on all days that involved services.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked, scowling.

  “Fine. Good. Right as rain.”

  “Would you like to join us—”

  “No!” It came out too quickly. She turned back to the stove, embarrassed. “God already knows the mess we’re in, Joe. Either He’s going to lend a hand here, or He’s not. Bugging Him about it isn’t going to change anything.”

  He thought about that for a moment. “It wouldn’t be possible for you to join in. You’re not Amish. But you could... I don’t know, observe.”

  “I said no.” She flipped bacon irritably.

  “How bad was your childhood?”

  He blindsided her with the question. She never saw it coming. She jabbed at the bacon. It had been on the stove for a small eternity, and it was still pink and rubbery.

  “Admittedly, I haven’t known your brothers long. But in this settlement, you get close to people in a hurry. I know Jacob seems to have carried some guilt around for a long time now, and Adam was damned if he was going to trust anything that seemed too good. And you—you seem determined to shut everyone else out, no matter what it costs you.”

  “I guess they teach pop psychology in those Berks County schools of yours,” she muttered.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  She didn’t intend to. She just never talked about it. It was a habit she’d gotten into, and she considered it a good one. But she turned around. And she heard herself being honest, too honest, letting him in.

  “I could tell you stories that would make your beard curl,” she whispered. “And I learned my lessons well. The more people you let in, the more opportunity there is for disaster. You can’t control other people, Joe. You’re always, always at the mercy of their moods. Well, I won’t allow it. People can fly off the handle all they want, but they’re not going to do it in my world. Twenty years ago, I had to take it. If I tried to defend myself, I only got hurt worse. Now I’ve earned the right to fight back.” She hugged herself. She hadn’t meant to say all this. And yet it just kept coming.

  “Eleven years ago, my father used to say that as long as I lived under his roof, I lived under his thumb. By his rules. He used to say that as long as he paid the mortgage and put food in my mouth, then no, I had no right to argue with him or try to defend myself. Now I pay my own rent. I pay my own way. And nobody, nobody better try to take away my right to protect myself.”

  Ah, Joe thought. It was as though someone had just lit all the lanterns in the kitchen. Light illuminated everything. Now he understood why she’d seemed so frantic over taking Jake’s or Adam’s money. Why she didn’t want a salary from him. She’d said it was because she didn’t want to grow accustomed to accepting help, then have it removed from her. And maybe that was true, he thought, as far as it went. But he supposed he’d known, even then, that there was more to it. He wondered what she hadn’t been permitted to defend herself against. He decided he preferred not to know.

  “Well,” he said finally. “I’d better go finish dressing.”

  Good idea. Kim rubbed her eyes, still shaken by what she had just said, what she had revealed. “Are you taking Hannah?” she asked numbly.

  “Of course.” Then he paused. “Dinah will look after her.” “Joe, leave her here.”

  His eyes narrowed as though someone had just offered him a million dollars and he was trying to figure out what strings were attached. Kim wondered helplessly if she was just aiding and abetting him in his heartache. What was the word they used in rehab centers? A girl she’d worked with had been in and out so many times she spouted the phrase like a mantra. Enabling him, she thought. That was it. Then she decided that she’d had her fill of pop psychology for one day.

  “You said something about church socials,” she told him. “Give Dinah a chance to pal around with her friends today, and tonight, too, if that’s what she wants. I mean, assuming there’s food and singing and stuff, like at the wedding.”

  “There is.” Then his voice softened. “Yes, that would probably be best. Thank you.”

  “You won’t have to torture yourself about taking care of the baby so Dinah has a chance to go off on her own.”

  “I said okay!”

  The guilt was there again, hot and ashamed in his eyes, enough to bubble up in temper.

  “I said yes,” he repeated quietly.

  Then he turned on his heel and left the kitchen, naked chest and all.

  Three hours later, Kim heartily regretted her offer. Hannah wouldn’t stop crying.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Susannah asked. They had brought the cradle downstairs and put it
in the living room. They both stood over it, looking down at the squalling baby.

  “I don’t know,” Kim muttered. “I’m a little out of practice here.”

  Everything that had come back to her so readily yesterday had flown right out the window today. The baby had had a bottle less than an hour ago—it couldn’t be that. She was dry and clean. Kim had no qualms about changing diapers more often than necessary since she had bought the disposables and she could toss the dirty ones in the trash afterward. A wintertime chill had penetrated the house, but this room was the warmest, and Hannah was dressed adequately. So she wasn’t cold. Overly warm didn’t seem like a viable explanation, either.

  Kim didn’t know what else to do, and there was no one to ask. She knew without being told that everyone within miles would be at that church service. Maybe, she thought, Hannah was just pain colicky. “Okay,” she mumbled. “Let me try walking her again. Or—I know! When you were a baby and you got real antsy, I used to take you for a drive in our landlady’s car.”

  “Well, we’ve got a car now,” Susannah said.

  “But no car seat.”

  “So I’ll hold her.”

  It would have to do, Kim thought. She was only going to be crawling around the settlement roads, after all. And there would be no other cars on the road. She ran upstairs for a warmer blanket for the baby. Five minutes later, they were in the Mazda, moseying along. Still Hannah cried.

  “This is ridiculous,” Kim said through clenched teeth.

  “Maybe she misses Dinah.”

  “Babies that young don’t know the difference,” she argued. “Well, maybe they do, but all they really care about is warmth, a full tummy and a clean diaper.”

  “She’s got all that,” Susannah reminded her.

  “Yeah.” Even the Mazda’s heater was cooperating for a change. It was belching something very close to hot air. “Okay, this isn’t working. Let’s go back.”

  When they parked, Hannah was still howling.

  “Mom, do you care if I lie down for a little while?” Susannah asked almost guiltily as they went inside.