“Himmel, then, if ya really and truly don’t want nothin’.”
Leah’s face broke into a broad smile. “That’s what I want. No cake, no pie … no nothin’.”
“Well, what if we sang to you at the frolic—how ’bout that?” She knew she was pushing things past where she oughta.
Leah kept her eyes on her mending. “You just never quit, do ya?”
“So … if you aren’t sayin’ we can’t sing to you, then I s’pose that means we can.” She’d made her pronouncement.
Leah clammed up for a good five minutes, so Susanna figured it was time to bring up another subject. Best not to allow festering thoughts to continue. Still, she didn’t see any harm in honoring her youngest sibling’s sixty years on God’s green earth. It wouldn’t be like they were behaving like the Mennonites, partying and such ’bout a birthday. No, they’d just have a nice excuse to fix a big meal and invite everybody over.
“Well, you’ll never guess what I heard Rachel a-mumblin’ to herself yesterday,” Susanna said as casually as she could.
Leah glanced up, grunted, then stuck her head right back down, paying close attention to her poised needle.
Susanna took the grunt as a go-ahead to talk about something unrelated to birthday dinners. So she did. “Ich hab mich awwer verschtaunt—Was I ever surprised! Rachel was saying, ‘I will see … I will see!’ over and over in her room. Don’t quite know what to make of it, really.”
“I don’t see how that’s so surprisin’. After all, you kept tellin’ me—for the past two years or so—that she’s made herself blind, didn’tcha?”
“Jah, I’ve said as much.”
“Well, maybe then she can make herself see again, too. What do you think of that?” Leah was truly serious and looked it in the face, the way her dark eyes were so awful intent on Susanna.
“If you ask me, I think Rachel’s gone ferhoodled.” Susanna hushed up real fast, though, realizing what she’d just said. Didn’t wanna let on too much ’bout her daughter’s state of mind, ’specially the way Rachel seemed so awful bouncy these days … like she was in love or some such thing.
“What do you mean, Sister?” Leah asked, still sending forth a powerful gaze.
Susanna was cornered—had to say something or leave it up to her sister’s imagination, which, in the end, might be even worse. “Ach,” she pressed onward, “you know how it is when a body gets eyes fixed on something they can’t have.”
Leah brightened. “Are we speakin’ of romance?”
Susanna swallowed hard, worried ’bout what she’d gone and gotten herself into. “Well, I couldn’t say that for sure. But”—and here she dropped her sewing in her lap and gave Leah a grim look—“Rachel’s a bit perplexed, I’m a-thinkin’.”
“Over a man?”
She shrugged. “Who’s to know.”
“Well, I think you know,” Leah piped up. “And truth be told, you oughta make positively sure that Mr. Bradley never comes pokin’ his nose ’round here anymore.”
Susanna was surprised that her sister seemed to know exactly what she herself was thinking. And it was true. Philip Bradley best not come looking for her daughter anytime soon. That, in fact, must never happen. The girl was much too vulnerable these days, what with her comin’ out of mourning just now, wearing the usual Plain colors of blues and greens again. Even the purple dress had up and appeared here lately—the day Lavina came and took Rachel over to her place, just the two of them.
“Don’t s’pose you’d know of a Plain widower ’round Lancaster who might be lookin’ for a right gut wife … and stepdaughter,” Susanna said.
“Well, now, if that don’t beat all.”
“What’re ya sayin’?” Susanna wondered if she’d opened her mouth too soon.
“I think I might know of someone.” Leah’s face looked quite a bit rosier than Susanna had seen it in weeks. Almost as if her sister had stood outside pickin’ sugar peas or tomatoes or shellin’ limas for hours in the sun.
“So … what widower is it that’s lookin’ to marry a second time?” She thought it best not to hold her breath, make her face go white or whatnot; it would never do for Leah to know just how she felt ’bout losing her daughter and granddaughter to marriage. And most likely to an older man at that.
“Name’s John Lapp—a right nice Amishman down in Paradise, though it might be a ways too far … for courtin’ and all. And then again he’s Old Order, so I don’t know how that’d work, what with Rachel leanin’ toward the Beachy group.”
Paradise …
Susanna felt herself sighing with relief. Jah, the town was prob’ly too far away for a romantic encounter, ’specially for horse-and-buggy Amish. Still, if she hadn’t brought up any of this to Leah, the word might never have had a chance to spread ’round the area. ’Course, now she couldn’t go and stick her foot in her mouth and ask her sister not to say anything.
“Best just to let the Lord God set things up,” she managed.
“Jah, but a little help from His children wouldn’t hurt none, don’tcha ’spect?”
Leah had her but good.
The sun clouded over around the time Susanna got in her buggy and prepared to head home to Benjamin. She glanced at the sky, wondering if the weatherman’s prediction would prove true ’bout the first snowstorm of the season. Wasn’t that she minded the snow so much. It was the wind whipping at her face that she had to put up with when she rode horse and buggy somewhere or other. Here lately, she’d gotten more accustomed to calling a van driver to take her places—mostly for trips into Lancaster and sometimes down to Gordonville to buy quantities of fabric on sale for Benjamin’s pants and shirts and little Annie’s slips and things. Rachel, it seemed, had plumb wore out her gray mourning dresses. ’Twasn’t any wonder, seein’ as how she’d put on the same ones over and over again for the past two and a half years.
Jah, it was high time Rachel threw away her old clothes or made rag rugs out of ’em, ’cause her mamma had been thinkin’ of sneaking them dresses out of her daughter’s room and making sure they disappeared.
Rachel couldn’t see anyway and wouldn’t know the difference.
Susanna couldn’t be sure, but she thought her daughter might just be getting to the place where she’d listen to some advice ’bout some of her ongoing quirks and whatnot. Folks were starting to talk here lately ’bout the amount of time Rachel was spending with Lavina, who was under the Bann—the shun—for breakin’ her baptismal vow, goin’ off to the Beachy church on account of Rachel and Annie. Susanna and Ben had never approved of Rachel and her beloved Jacob headin’ off to the Beachy church, but least her Rachel hadn’t broken any vows, never having been baptized in the first place. Still, all that time spent with Lavina couldn’t be any gut for Rachel, really, even though she and Lavina were kin in a far-removed sort of way.
Truth be told, Susanna was worried that some of Lavina’s peculiar ideas and ways might rub off on Rachel. The poor girl sure didn’t need that.
Rachel redd up the entire upstairs, cleaning bathrooms, shaking rugs, dusting and sweeping under each bed. Then she ironed every last one of her father’s shirts and pants and even cooked up a pot of chicken and dumplings before she slipped the corn bread batter into the oven and hurried upstairs to make a tape-recorded “letter” to her Ohio cousin, Esther Glick.
She saw to it that Annie was occupied downstairs at the kitchen table, making her little drawings with her favorite crayons, before Rachel closed the bedroom door and turned on the recorder.
Hello, Esther!
Greetings from chilly Bird-in-Hand.
Scarcely could I wait to share with you today—you just have no idea how excited I am! Last Thursday, I spent part of the morning with Dat’s relative, Lavina Troyer. Anyhow, she and I got to talking, and she agreed to go with me to visit my great-uncle Gabe’s former fiancée, Adele Herr. Remember, I told you how that New York writer came to stay with us, and he took me to meet Adele? Remember, too, how she told al
l ’bout what happened here to Gabe when he wouldn’t go along with Bishop Fisher, wouldn’t accept the unholy “healing gift” the bishop wanted to pass on to him? The same way I didn’t wanna have anything to do with Blue Johnny and his black box?
Well, I’ve been thinking long and hard ’bout what it’ll take for me to get my sight back, and I hafta tell you, Esther, it’s become ever so important to me here lately. Something new is happenin’ inside me. I truly want to see again. Not just because it’s so hard bein’ blind in a sighted world—it ain’t that a’tall. I want to see so I can raise Annie, and more than that, I want to see again so I can be a better witness for the Lord.
You might be thinkin’ that I want to take Gabe Esh’s place in ministry, and that could be what God’s callin’ me to do. I don’t know for sure or for certain, not just yet, but I’m trusting the Lord to show me, day by day, what He would have me do for His glory.
I know you and Levi are doing your part out there in Ohio to spread the Good News. Well, I want to do the same. I believe, as you do, that we don’t have much time before the Lord says, “Come on up a little higher.”
Don’t forget how much I enjoy hearing those sermon tapes of your pastor. Whenever you can, will you please send some more?
Wait just a minute, I believe I hear Annie callin’ me. I best run down and check on her.
I’ll finish this later… .
Pressing the Off button, Rachel left the tape recorder on the floor near her dresser and scurried out of the room and downstairs to Annie.
“I’ve been wonderin’ where you were,” the child fussed.
“Sorry, dearie. I was taping a letter to Cousin Esther.”
Annie sighed. “Do ya think they’ll ever come back and live here again?”
“Esther and Levi will prob’ly stay put in Holmes County. But, jah, I wish they’d move back,” Rachel was quick to add.
“They like farmin’, don’t they?”
She nodded. “Workin’ the land’s the best thing for a farmer.”
Annie was quiet for a moment. “Will we ever get to farm, Mamma?”
“Well, now, you know we live with Dawdi Ben and Mammi Susanna so we can help them make a living … with the English guests.”
“Are we gonna stay with ’em forever?”
Forever …
Rachel hadn’t thought of that. She’d felt ever so content for the longest time, just going on the way she and Annie had been living.
Annie whispered, “Maybe someday we could farm, too, like Cousin Esther and Levi.”
“Are you hopin’ that we’ll move to Ohio and live with your young cousins—James and Ada, Mary and Elijah?”
“Well, it would be lotsa fun havin’ other kids my age, unless …” Annie grew silent again.
“Unless what?”
“Well … I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but it would be awful nice to have some brothers and sisters someday, like my cousin Joshua has, you know?”
Lizzy, her older sister, and her husband had a good many children and another baby on the way. “In order to give you little brothers and sisters, I’d be needing a husband, and you know that’s impossible,” Rachel reminded her daughter.
“‘Cause Dat got killed in the car wreck?”
“That’s right.”
“But does that mean you can’t marry somebody else?”
Annie’s childish question took her off guard. “Well, I guess I could marry again, if the Lord saw fit.”
“Why don’tcha, Mamma? Then you can have some brothers and sisters for me—and some more cousins for Joshua, too.”
Rachel had to smile at her darling girl. “It’s not as easy as just sayin’ it.”
“What do you mean, Mamma?”
She sighed, wondering how on earth to explain that one person couldn’t just decide to up and marry. “It takes two people—a man and a woman—who love each other very much.”
“So … all’s we need is one more—the man—right?” Annie was giggling now. “I think I know where the other one can be found.”
“Where’s that?” Rachel asked absentmindedly.
“New York City.”
Rachel’s heart leaped at the mention of Philip Bradley’s hometown. “What in the world gave you such an idea?”
“Mister Philip did,” Annie replied.
Rachel was flustered beyond all words. “What … whatever do you mean?”
“Oh, I almost forgot you couldn’t see what I saw, Mamma.”
She wasn’t clear on what her daughter was saying. And she was beginning to feel uncomfortable with her father sitting just around the corner at the end of the sunroom. “We best keep our voices down,” she whispered.
“Nobody’s near,” Annie volunteered.
Rachel grinned at her girl’s insight—another one of those traits passed down through the family. Only this wasn’t a questionable one, like some of the “gifts” on her mother’s side, beginning as far back as Gabe’s greatgrandfather, ol’ Gabriel Esh, a powerful conjurer in the area. No, God was going to use Annie for His glory and honor. Rachel honestly believed that and had begun to pray blessings over her daughter, till such time as Annie herself could give her heart and life fully to Jesus.
“I saw something in Mister Philip’s eyes, Mamma … the way he looked at you. There was something wonderfulgut ’bout it.”
Rachel felt the heat rising into her cheeks. “Well, I don’t know how that could be.”
“I do, Mamma. He must’ve seen in you what Dat saw a long time ago.”
She leaned down and wrapped her arms around Annie. “You’re sayin’ the silliest things, I daresay.”
“No … no, I ain’t makin’ it up. I saw what I saw!”
Sitting down, Rachel held Annie on her lap. “Listen to me, honey-pie. Mr. Bradley is an Englischer. So there’s just no way in the world Mamma could marry him.” She couldn’t bring herself to speak further of romance or whatever it was her darling girl had in her little head. “I believe it’s time we stopped talking ’bout this and got something to eat. What do you say?”
But Annie didn’t budge. She leaned against Rachel and began to whimper into the bodice of her apron.
“What is it, little one?” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head, holding her close.
“I miss him, Mamma. Mister Philip …”
’Course, she couldn’t openly agree. She couldn’t tell her precious girl that for some reason or other, she, too, felt the selfsame way about Philip Bradley of New York City.
Five
The weatherman hit the nail on the head ’bout the snowstorm, turned out. Susanna was mighty glad the quilting at Leah’s wasn’t till tomorrow morning, ’cause the sky was awful heavy with the grayest-looking clouds she’d ever seen. And the snow! Goodness’ sakes, it was comin’ down!
So for today, she and Rachel would keep the kitchen cozy and warm with plenty of pie-bakin’ and cookiemakin’. Rachel had asked if she could take one of the pies to a friend of hers, though she hadn’t said just who or where. Fact was, her daughter was too quiet most the morning, Susanna thought, but she decided not to press for reasons. No, she’d bide her time.
Annie entertained Dawdi Ben in the not-so-sunny sunroom, where the B&B guests always took their breakfast of a morning. Now that it was deep December, the Zooks were without a speck of overnight folk. Susanna was honestly enjoying the break from her hectic schedule of cleaning up after one guest or another, making sure every room in the house was ready at all times. And they were ready, but it was nigh unthinkable that anybody in his right mind—especially an out-of-towner—would attempt to make his way up Gibbons Road and on over to Olde Mill Road to their secluded property nestled along Mill Creek.
Annie came into the kitchen just then. “Dawdi Ben says he’s awful thirsty,” she announced.
“Well, let’s get him a nice cold drink.” Susanna moved to the sink and let the water run a bit.
“He’s mighty hungry, too,” Annie said,
her blue eyes shining mischievously.
“Well, now, I wonder what he’s hungry for,” Rachel chimed in. “Go ask him.”
The child turned and scampered out of the kitchen.
“Aw, he’s playin’ with her,” Susanna whispered to Rachel. “She’ll come back wantin’ a piece of pie, you watch.”
A right curious look came over Rachel’s face, and Susanna caught herself gazing in wonderment at her grown daughter. It was an honest-to-goodness glow! Susanna couldn’t quite remember seeing Rachel look so radiant. Well, no she did recall, now that she thought ’bout it. Back when Rachel was sixteen and had first met up with Jacob Yoder. Jah, that’s when it was… .
Annie soon returned to tell them just what Susanna had predicted. “Dawdi Ben wants to have the first taste of apple pie, if that’s all right with Mammi Susanna, he says.”
The two women burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” asked Annie, eyes wide.
“Aw, honey, we’re not makin’ fun of you, not a’tall.” Susanna waved her hand, still laughing so hard the tears were coming. “I think it’s ’bout lunchtime here perty soon.”
Annie, bless her heart, looking ever so perplexed, turned and went to report to her grandfather.
Rachel stooped to pet Copper, and while she did, Susanna heard her whisper something ’bout it snowing so hard the puppy would hafta stay in the house all day. “Just like all the rest of us.”
“‘Tis awful cold out,” Susanna ventured, hoping to draw her daughter into conversation.
“Jah, and from what Lavina says, we’ll prob’ly hafta hitch up a sleigh to the horse so we can get to Leah’s tomorrow.”
Susanna peered out the window. “Well, if it keeps a-comin’ down like it is, we’ll have us a white Christmas this year.”
“Would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
Nodding, Susanna caught herself, realizing anew that her daughter could not see even the slightest movement. “It’s wunnerbaar—wonderful—to see you wearing colors again,” she said softly. “And green suits you right fine.”
Rachel’s face broke into a smile. “Denki … it’s gut of you to say so.”
The Crossroad Page 4