“Well, why don’t ya bring your things over here tomorrow, then?” Mamm suggested, her eyes smiling. “You can sleep in Anna’s room, if ya like.”
Tilly found this very sweet. “Denki, Mamm . . . are you sure?”
“Never more.”
“All right, then, I’ll let Aunt Naomi know when I return tonight.” Tilly said it with faith that all would be well while she was under Daed’s roof—and thumb—once again.
“So, you’ll join us here after breakfast?” Mamm asked.
Tilly could’ve wept, she was that moved by the unforeseen invitation. “If that’s what you want.”
Later, Ruth grabbed Tilly before she went out to help Daed hitch up his horse and carriage. “This is all working out nicely, isn’t it?” she whispered.
“I can hardly believe it.” She shooed Ruth out the door. “Remember Daed’s bad heart. Don’t let him do much of the hitching, ya hear?”
Ruth tittered. “You’re starting to sound Amish to me.”
“Oh, get going, will you.”
Still grinning, Ruth headed out the back door.
The sound of her sister’s laughter lifted into the twilight. And Tilly suddenly realized what she had agreed to do in order to get back safely to her uncle and aunt’s. Ride alone with Daed. More important, he’d consented.
She remembered Uncle Abner’s advice. Will I regret my choice to stay?
———
“I think this is the first time in ages that Daed and Tilly have been in the same place at the same time without bickering or worse,” Ruth mentioned to Mamm as they prepared for a light supper of soup and sandwiches.
Mamm gave Ruth a worried look. “I sure hope it goes well on the ride up to the phone shanty and then Abner and Naomi’s.”
“Me too.” Ruth thought about that, hoping there might somehow be a breakthrough in their relationship. “Why do you think they’ve never gotten along?”
“Ain’t something we oughta discuss,” Mamm said quickly.
Is Tilly too much like Daed, maybe? Ruth looked at her mother, beginning to understand what she never had before. “You must feel constrained to stand by whatever Daed says or does, isn’t that so?”
“’Tis the right thing to do,” Mamm said, which gave Ruth pause.
Oh, Daed . . . still as overprotective as ever, Tilly thought as her father got out of the carriage and took her to the phone shed in the dark, his flashlight shining on the dirt path. Though she hadn’t always appreciated his watchful presence, she was a little touched that he was going out of his way for her, as he had when she was a girl living at home. She thanked him, but he said nothing in return.
Kris picked up the phone on the second ring, and when she talked about her plans, her husband was all for it. “Mom won’t mind at all, and I think you need this time to really catch up with your family.” Eventually he put Jenya and Tavani on to talk, and while Tilly could tell they missed her, they were also caught up in chatter about Sunday school. More important, they seemed to be enjoying having Grandma Barrows around. Tavani let it slip that Grandma was letting them bake cookies and other treats. “We just ate a couple,” she said, giggling.
Tilly said nothing to discourage their pleasure. This is good for them, she thought, relieved.
After she and Kris said good-bye, Daed walked back with her to the carriage. Tilly filled him in on the lively conversation with her twins, hoping to lighten things up between them.
“Your twins don’t sound much at all like Jacob and Joseph at their age,” Daed stated.
“My girls are pretty easygoing compared to my twin brothers. They don’t mind a change in plans.” Tilly wondered if Daed might say why Joseph had stopped by earlier. She recalled that Joseph and Chester had given her the hardest time about her inching her way out of the church. Well, flying out, really.
“By the way, what sort of names are those ya gave your daughters?” Daed asked. “Never heard the likes of ’em, even amongst fancy folk.”
She bristled but tried not to let it show. “Lots of people think Kris and I made them up, but we didn’t.”
“Sure sounds like it.” Daed’s voice had the familiar edge to it. Was he actually going to scrap with her now that they were alone? “Whatever happened to gut, solid Amish names?”
Oh boy . . . here we go.
She wouldn’t say what she was thinking—that people could name their children whatever they wished. Besides, she and Kris weren’t Amish.
For the sake of harmony, she let it go, and a miserable, tedious silence filled the carriage just like it always had when her father was disgruntled with her.
When they were nearing the halfway point between the phone shed and Uncle Abner’s, Daed brought up Anna’s Kapp. “I’m disappointed in your mother’s decision for you to keep it, considerin’.” His expression was one of distrust, like the glare he’d directed at her when she was a naughty child. “Why’d ya have it anyway?” His words pierced her.
You, of all people, he meant. You, who have been wrong your whole life long.
“It was all I had of my sister, Daed. All.” She felt like she might cry, but she wouldn’t let herself. Not now. Not with her father peering down his nose at her. Hadn’t she come to expect this?
“Sorry, Daed,” she muttered. They were the words she’d repeated so often during her growing-up years. Sorry, yes, but never able to improve or measure up.
Her moment in the sitting room when Mamm returned the Kapp to her had been so dear. Why must Daed go and ruin that?
She leaned forward, suddenly determined to speak her mind. “Why isn’t Mamm’s opinion on the matter good enough for you?” she asked. Frustration continued to build until Tilly could no longer contain it. “Why has it always been this way, Daed?” she lashed out. “My entire life, you’ve made a point of making me feel like I’ve never been good enough.”
He was silent for a moment, his expression stricken, and Tilly feared she had been insensitive and unwise to upset him further, given his heart condition. “It was my job to raise ya in the ways of the church, Tilly . . . accountable under Gott for how you’ve turned out.” Daed’s jaw was tight, and his eyes remained firmly fixed on the road ahead. “And here you are, living far from the People. What does that say about me? About you?”
She cringed, her toes curled in her shoes.
“Must I name off your transgressions?” He turned his stern face toward her.
Tilly shuddered as a whirl of possibilities filled her head. Anna’s death; my leaving the Amish, then Ruth . . . It was no wonder her father was bitterly disappointed. “No need to,” she muttered, chagrined at her own nerve and feeling as small in his presence as if she were a young girl again.
One more offense on the endless list . . .
As soon as Ruth heard her father’s horse and carriage pull into the driveway, she hurried out to offer to help with the unhitching process. Daed promptly refused, a thorny tone to his voice. Something must’ve happened with Tilly, she thought, concerned.
Puzzled, Ruth returned inside, where she alerted Mamm. Sighing, Mamm confided that Daed was still terribly miffed at Tilly. “It’s eating away at him that Tilly took you away from Eden Valley. Perhaps that’s why he’s tetchy tonight.”
“She didn’t take me, Mamm. I wanted to leave.”
“Well, it still gnaws at your father . . . and Chester and Joseph, too—all of them. It’s just that no one else is as outspoken about such things.”
Ruth took it all in, finding it odd that Joseph had skirted the issues that surely burned in him when he dropped by that afternoon. She guessed he had been more easygoing with his wife and baby there in the carriage. Just maybe. She had noticed, however, when Mamm mentioned that Tilly was in the house, Joseph flinched and frowned so deeply it was nearly a scowl. “Don’t entertain those who say they are of like faith, but live a life of deceit.” The words from a long-ago sermon came to mind now.
Later, during family worship, Ruth felt perturbed
as she listened to Daed read from the Bible in English. Gone was his formerly relaxed demeanor. If anything, he was visibly on edge.
“ ‘Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right,’ ” he read. “ ‘Honour thy father and mother; which is the first commandment with promise; that it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.’ ”
Ruth wondered if Daed would continue on to read verse four, about fathers not provoking their children to anger. She glanced at Daed, wondering what things he and Tilly had said to each other on the way to Uncle Abner’s. Observing the grumpy sternness in their father, Ruth was quite sure they were back to their old standoff.
Later, after she’d said good-night to her parents, giving Mamm a warm hug, Ruth went to her room and opened her Bible to read alone for a while. Through the half-open door, she saw her mother go over and lock up Anna’s room. She was definitely a creature of habit.
Then, pondering again how very aloof her father had seemed after his return this evening, Ruth wondered if it wasn’t a mistake to have Tilly stay here the rest of the week. Oh, she wished there was something she could do to pave the way for a compromise between her father and sister.
Dear Lord in heaven, what can be done?
Chapter 26
Josie was over here earlier today,” Aunt Naomi was saying as Tilly set the table for a late-night dessert. “She’s arranged for her older sister to watch Sammy and Johanna tomorrow and Tuesday, so she can help you and Ruth and your Mamma with sorting and whatnot.”
Tilly liked the idea of having Josie there, too. She was a busy bee if there ever was one.
“Won’t it be nice for the three of you girls to work together again? It’s been a long time.” Naomi’s eyes twinkled. “Ya know, Josie never really found another best friend to replace you, dear.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear it.” Tilly truly was.
“A close friend ain’t something you can substitute at will, of course,” her aunt added.
Tilly knew as much. She had experienced the remarkable joy of marrying her best friend, yet there was also something special about a close girl friend. For her, that was Ruthie. In fact, Ruthie had managed to squeeze right into Tilly’s heart over the span of years the sisters had shared their thoughts in letters.
Regarding letters, Tilly almost said something to her aunt about the one she’d found in Anna’s drawer, curious as to when her mother had written it, and why.
Because of Anna? Tilly thought unexpectedly. After all, for a parent to experience the death of a child was a life-changing occurrence—totally the opposite of the way things should be. A mother should never outlive her child, Tilly thought solemnly.
“I wish you could’ve seen Josie when she dropped by,” Aunt Naomi said, nudging Tilly back to their conversation. “She looked mighty happy. More so than I’ve seen her in a while.”
“Well, if Josie’s happy, then I am, too.” Tilly went to the counter and scooped some homemade ice cream to go with their apple cobbler.
Has Josie forgiven me for my long silence?
Waking earlier than usual, Tilly rolled out of bed the next morning and tiptoed across the room to raise the blinds. She stretched her arms high over her head as she spotted the first predawn streaks of white in the sky. Stepping closer to the window, she squinted into the mist. Uncle Abner was driving the cows out to pasture after milking, while nearer to the house, a couple of men chopped wood. She marveled at this very natural and beautiful world the Lord had entrusted to her family and to other Plain folk in the area.
Tilly turned and lit the lantern, delighting in its dusky glow. Then she bowed her head and thanked God for this new day—a practice her mother had ingrained in her as a child.
Later, once she’d read her devotional book, she padded downstairs in her bathrobe and slippers to make some coffee, even before Aunt Naomi was up and stirring. Was she making the right choice by accepting her mother’s invitation?
I’ll do my best to make it work, she decided, all too conscious that no matter how hard she’d tried in the past, it was seemingly never in her power to do so.
———
Tilly stayed awhile after breakfast to help her aunt redd up the kitchen before she returned to the guest room to pack her suitcase. She stripped the bed first, then gathered up her things. She thanked Aunt Naomi for having her and invited her and Uncle Abner to visit in Rockport. “And I promise to write to you when I return home.”
“But this ain’t good-bye, remember—we’ll be seein’ you yet again this week. I’ll pro’bly bring supper over Wednesday night, once your Mamm’s kitchen is packed up.”
“I’m sure Mamm will appreciate that.” Tilly reached to hug her.
“Well, if she does things the way I would, she’ll want things set up in the new kitchen first.”
Tilly said she’d do it that way, too. “Please tell Uncle Abner thanks for his good advice, like always,” she said before giving her aunt a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve never forgotten a single story he’s ever told me.”
“He’s always had a soft heart for ya, honey-girl.” Aunt Naomi squeezed Tilly’s arm. “I hope you know he teases ya because he loves ya, ain’t?”
Tilly smiled. “This world needs more people like you two.”
Aunt Naomi slipped an arm around her and walked out to the driveway. As Tilly got in the car, her aunt stood and waved as Tilly backed out, then waved in return. She’s exactly what I needed here, she thought as she turned onto the main road, fighting a lump in her throat—the dear woman looked so forlorn to see her go.
Kris and the girls would love to meet Aunt Naomi and Uncle Abner, she thought. Maybe someday. But of course, if they made the trip to visit them, she and Kris would naturally be expected to stop in and see Tilly’s parents, too. She wasn’t ready for that.
Not far up the road, a horse and carriage were coming toward her in the opposite lane. Driving carefully, she wanted to be cautious not to spook any road horses. She’d had her share of struggles with horses when she lived here, many times thanks to reckless English drivers.
Still pondering her father, she wondered why he couldn’t be more accepting of the life she’d chosen. At first he had been nice enough last evening while escorting her to the phone shanty, shining his flashlight as he had. Yet, when it came to actually relating to her the way a father and daughter should, he seemed to have no clue.
Reliving their carriage ride, she again felt guilty for having lost her cool with him like a teenager. Hadn’t she matured at all since living here? After all, she was a married woman now . . . though she’d never thought to ask Daed’s blessing upon Kris and her union . . . never cared enough to bring their twins to meet her parents, either. No, she thought, I wanted to shield my precious little family from my father. Still, that didn’t take away the sense of loss she felt for what might have been.
As a girl, she remembered looking forward to the Lord’s Day, particularly the off-Sundays from Preaching service, when Daed took them to visit relatives, mostly her grandparents and Daed’s and Mamm’s siblings. During those times, Tilly saw a very different side of her father’s personality emerge, and she liked the cordial, talkative man that he became seemingly at will, friendly and kind to everyone in their large extended family.
So was it something in her that caused him to react so differently at home? Tilly had wondered this since she was about nine years old, when she first began to sense the strain. Whenever they’d gone together in the market wagon, Daed seemed intent on finding fault, advising her to stick right by his side, or not leave his sight, as if she were completely irresponsible and unable to make wise decisions. It never made sense—just wasn’t fair when her brothers had the freedom to roam at will when not tending the market table.
This didn’t just confound Tilly; she found it annoying. She had often wondered why he’d scowled when her girl cousins and others at the little schoolhouse said how much she looked like Mamm . . . right down to the shape
of her face and eyes. She’d even dared to ask Daed why he didn’t seem to think so.
She remembered even now his suspicious look, as if she were bent on no good. “Never thought much about it,” he’d declared.
Tilly then made an attempt to tell him what others in the family had said, but he interrupted and asked if she’d brought along the big basket of yellow onions to be sold at market. “Time now for work,” he’d said brusquely.
After that, Tilly decided not to revisit the topic. No matter what anyone else said about her looks, it clearly didn’t matter one iota to Daed.
———
As she neared her parents’ house, Tilly felt increasingly glum. Without a doubt, she had done herself a disservice by contemplating the past just now.
The clouds spread out like a flowering tree in springtime, with gleaming splashes of sunlight toward the east. She lowered her car window as she crept along, taking her time. The wind stirred the grove of trees along the roadside, and she recalled her many walks there.
Just ahead, she noticed her nephews Caleb and Benny headed this way on foot. They were dressed like twins in black work trousers and brown jackets—she was certain the jackets, like the pants, were homemade. Black felt hats were centered on their heads, allowing just a small line of bangs to show. Caleb, being older by a year, was slightly taller.
Spotting her, they waved her down, and she pulled over.
“Mind if we have a look under the hood?” Caleb asked with a mischievous grin.
She played along. “Is something wrong with my car, do you think?”
“Might just need a look-see,” Benny said.
She switched off the ignition. “What are you two doing out here on the road?” she said as she obliged them and pulled the lever inside to pop the hood.
Like wasps to sweets, they rushed underneath, talking in Deitsch all the while.
Tilly opened her door, breathing in the crisp and tantalizingly fresh air. She got out and wandered around the back, amused at everything the young men were saying to each other under the covering of the hood. Had they forgotten that she spoke their first language fluently? She had to smile at what was being said.
The River Page 14