“You mustn’t be goin’ just yet, Mister Philip.” She was running out the door and down the driveway.
He went around the side of the car to greet her, though he was cautious, touching only her head. “I should’ve called first, I suppose.”
Annie’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Why wouldja wanna do that on Christmas? Nobody calls first before they come. It’s just fine to drop by. All the People do that ’round here.”
“All the People,” he echoed, standing up and noticing that both Ben and Susanna were standing in the doorway. “But, you see, I’m not one of the People, Annie.”
The child seemed surprised at his remark and shook her head, her little white prayer bonnet slipping back slightly. “I think Mamma’d be ever so glad to see you,” she whispered, leaning closer.
“Your mother has company today.”
She wrinkled up her nose. “John Lapp, that’s all ’tis.”
“Oh, Mister Lapp, eh?”
“He’s lookin’ to marry Mamma, but I won’t let him.”
Chuckling, Philip backed away, thinking he ought to exit the premises before Benjamin came out and bodily shooed him off. “You’re a lively one, Annie,” he said, wishing there was a way to give her the present he’d purchased for her.
“Wait, you mayn’t leave just yet,” Annie said.
“Annie!” Susanna was calling from the front door. “Come inside, child. It’s much too cold!”
Philip motioned for her to heed her grandmother’s warning. The next sound he heard was Rachel’s gentle voice. “Annie, dear, you best be comin’ inside.”
Reaching for the car door, he caught himself just before thoughtlessly waving to the lovely blind woman in the long blue dress and full-length white apron. “Merry Christmas, Rachel!” he called instead, relieved that her parents had moved back into the house.
“Same to you, Philip.” She smiled at him from across the front yard. “Can you come in for a bit?”
Could he? That was the reason he’d come—but how was this precarious situation going to work itself out? He thought of the Amish suitor John Lapp and Rachel’s crestfallen parents.
Annie reached for his hand and began to pull on him, attempting to bring him back up the driveway. “You hafta come in and sit a spell,” the girl said. “You hafta … it’s Christmas!”
“I do?” he teased, thankful for Annie’s tenacity. He would get the opportunity to visit with Rachel, after all.
“We got cookies and candy and—”
“Candy? What kind?”
“Come see.” And she continued to tug on his hand.
In Philip’s entire life, only one other female had ever tried such a tactic with him—his niece, who was equally as spunky as Rachel’s young daughter.
Philip’s coming was the perfect remedy for gettin’ John Lapp out of the house and on his way. ’Course, it was downright awkward, what with both men there in the same room. And no man, ’cept for her dear Jacob, had ever been interested in her back when she was courting age and able to see just fine. The present situation was ever so peculiar, and Rachel was more than relieved when the smithy bade his farewell, not only to her, but to everyone else in the room. Then, before actually leaving, he asked if he might call on her again. “Would that be all right?” he asked, so close that she honestly felt his breath on her face.
Stepping back, she gave him her answer softly, so as not to call attention. “I … I’ll be thinkin’ on it.”
“Gut then, I’ll give you a few days.”
She didn’t say “Thank you” or “Have a nice Christmas” or any such polite thing as he prepared to leave. Truth was, she could hardly wait for him to exit the house. And once he was gone, she wondered what on earth she would do now with Philip Bradley here again, the very man she’d found herself thinking of so often since the day he’d left. If she could’ve seen the expression on Mam’s face, she may have been sheepish, but she was spared that. And Dat did his best to cover his tracks, and he made small talk with Philip, having been a bit aloof at the door. But it was truly Esther and Levi who were most kind.
About the same time as John Lapp left, Aunt Leah and Uncle Amos said they’d best slip out and get on home. And so did the remaining guests, which left only Esther, Levi, and their four children and Annie in the house with Philip and the elder Zooks.
The job of introducing Philip to Esther and Levi fell to Rachel. But Philip had a remarkable way of setting her at ease, once again, and did an excellent job of fillin’ Esther and Levi in on his whereabouts, where he’d grown up, why he’d first come to Bird-in-Hand—to do research for a magazine article—and how it was that he’d come to write for a New York magazine called Family Life. Things like that.
She wasn’t sure how it happened that they got to talking ’bout a book Philip had purchased in New York. Sounded like something she wished her own father might be willin’ to read. All about the life of an Amish preacher who’d found himself caught up in age-old practices of powwowing and other occult activities. Philip was asking if any of them had heard of it or knew the author, and he gave the name.
“Does sound familiar to me,” Levi said.
“And it’s high time we had someone Plain speaking out ’bout such things in our communities,” Esther put in.
Dat was quiet; Mam, too, though she didn’t stay put long, excusin’ herself to go out and “check on the children,” which she gave as her reason for leavin’ the room.
“There was someone like that—someone who wasn’t afraid to speak out against the witchcraft in high places,” Philip said. “He lived here in the area a long time ago.”
Rachel was worried over what Dat would think. What was Philip going to say ’bout Gabe Esh?
Fear is the opposite of faith… .
Just then, Dat cut in. “And that there fella got himself excommunicated and shunned for it, too. We have our ways, and that’s that.” Then he got up and marched out of the room, making the floor shake as he rumbled past her.
Fear not, and do not tremble… .
“I guess I shouldn’t have brought that up,” Philip was saying in an apologetic tone.
“No … no, don’t be feelin’ doubtful,” Levi encouraged. “I believe that’s one of the reasons these things keep bein’ covered up and never discussed. I believe it’s the reason we find so many of the People in bondage to darkness … to the evil one.”
“Why don’t I mail the book to you when a friend of mine finishes reading it,” Philip offered.
“Jah, do that.”
They talked awhile longer, mostly ’bout what they could do to band together in prayer for the community, though Rachel just listened, finding it interesting how very well Philip seemed to fit in with her cousins. In many ways, he was a man her family would approve of. Except for one glaring problem. He wasn’t Plain. ’Course, then again, she was gettin’ way ahead of herself. It wasn’t as if they were courtin’ or any such a thing.
All too soon, Philip mentioned that he needed to get back to Reading. “I came to visit Adele Herr for Christmas,” he explained.
“Lavina and I were just up to see Adele a week ago,” she offered. “Adele told us ’bout the Christmas program comin’ up.”
“That’s where I’m heading now.”
“Will ya tell her Merry Christmas for me?”
He was silent, but only for a second or two. “You could tell her yourself, if you wanted to,” Philip said, surprising her completely.
“What … what do you mean?”
“Come with me to the program.” He didn’t wait for her answer, then added, “Adele would be delighted, I’m sure.”
Is Philip speaking for himself, too? Rachel wondered, hesitating, not sure how to answer, really. After all, Esther and Levi wouldn’t be staying ’round Lancaster for too much longer, and she really wanted to have some personal sharing time with her beloved cousin.
“Sounds like a gut idea to me,” Esther chimed in.
&nb
sp; “Jah, go ahead and have yourself a nice time,” Levi added.
They must approve of Philip, she decided, finding the situation to be rather comical. A fancy New Yorker invitin’ an Amish widow—a blind one at that—to a Christmas program at a nursing home, of all things! “Well, if Mam won’t mind lookin’ after Annie, I s’pose I could go.”
“Ach, don’t worry over Annie. I’ll see to it she gets fed supper and has a gut time with her cousins,” Esther offered. “And tomorrow, we’ll do some catchin’ up, just you and me.”
Rachel paused, thinking that it was high time she told Esther what she’d been planning to do. “Uh, tomorrow, I’m lookin’ to go to the Crossroad. Sometime after church.” She hadn’t got up the nerve to tell anyone before now, but she’d thought it through, all the same.
“How will ya get there?” Esther asked, sounding flabbergasted.
“You and Levi will take me, won’tcha?” she said, her voice growing softer and a lump filling her throat. “I’ve been waitin’ an awful long time.”
“What’s this all ’bout?” Levi sounded concerned.
“I wanna see again, that’s what. I feel I hafta go to the scene of the accident. After all this time, I’m ready to face up to whatever happened there—every last bit.” She didn’t go on to say that she’d suffered severe headaches due to some of her memory returning. But she was past that and wanted to force herself to remember everything.
“Well, now, have ya prayed ’bout this?” Levi asked, sounding more like a father than her cousin’s husband.
“Oh, I’ve prayed like nobody knows. And I believe the Lord’s in it—me goin’ to that intersection, in a horse and buggy … on Second Christmas.” She wasn’t exactly sure if Philip knew what “Second Christmas” was, but if he’d done a thorough job of researching Plain Christmas customs, he’d surely know that it was merely another day set aside for visitin’ and relaxation in Lancaster County. ’Course, when it fell on a Sunday, like this year, the Old Order Amishfolk would have house church. Beachy Amish had church every Sunday in celebration of the Resurrection, like most Bible-based churches.
Just then Philip spoke up. “If you wouldn’t think it too bold of me, Rachel, I’d be more than happy to accompany you and your cousins to the Crossroad.”
Esther seemed to take the decision right away from her. “Jah, I think Philip should ride along.”
Oddly enough, Rachel didn’t resent her cousin for speakin’ up that way. Not one iota.
Susanna had promised herself she would go and look up certain Scripture verses in the old German Bible once the busy day was behind her. But with Rachel off into the night with that Mr. Bradley, she was lookin’ after Annie. Esther hadn’t stayed but rather had given in when Susanna insisted she and Levi go on back to Leah’s to bed down the children at their own mammi’s house.
“Ach, are ya sure?” Esther had asked, indicating she wanted to help with Annie as she’d promised Rachel.
“Yes … yes, you go on. There’s no need for you to stay up all hours. Besides, who knows when Rachel will be back.”
So Esther, Levi, and the children had got their coats on and scurried off, almost as if they’d been pushed out against their will.
Later, Susanna was fit to be tied when Annie started askin’ her things like “Why’s Mister Philip so awful nice to Mamma?” Those sorts of questions flyin’ out of Annie’s mouth served to rankle her all the more. And she could scarcely get the little one bathed and into bed fast enough.
“He brought a Christmas present along,” Annie said as Susanna pulled up the quilts on the small bed. “I saw it.”
“Well, now, I think you must be dreamin’.”
“No … no, I saw some perty paper and a big green and red bow and—”
“Time for prayers now.” She cut off the girl’s chatter.
Annie blinked her big eyes. “Why don’tcha like Mister Philip?”
Susanna sucked in her breath. “I think you have no idea ’bout that man.”
“Well, I think he’s just ’bout the nicest I’ve ever met, Mammi Susanna.”
“Your dawdi Ben’s a nice man.” She was desperate to turn the conversation ’round before lights out.
“But Mister Philip is, too.”
“Guess I don’t know him as well as you seem to.”
Annie giggled. “Oh, I know him, all right.” And she went on and on ’bout how the tall, smooth-faced Englischer had saved her life from the wasp sting she’d got down by Mill Creek, out behind the house. “He smiles real nice, and Mamma says he’s followin’ the Lord God heavenly Father. That makes him a gut man, don’tcha think?”
“I think you’ve talked quite enough for one night,” she said, getting up and heading for the door.
“I’m sorry, Mammi. Honest, I am. I talk too much sometimes … even on Christmas, I s’pose.”
“Ach, Annie, just say your silent prayers” was all she could think to sputter before flicking off the light.
Annie said her prayers all right, but they weren’t her ordinary prayers. No, she said “prayers from her heart,” just the way Mamma had been praying lately.
“Dear Lord Jesus,” Annie began. “Please watch over Mamma tonight. Mister Philip, too. And thank you ever so much for bringin’ him back for a visit. I’m thinkin’ it’s the best gift I could’ve ever had, come Christmas Day.”
Part Three
For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth,
and gross darkness the people:
but the Lord shall arise upon thee,
and his glory shall be seen upon thee.
—Isaiah 60:2
Sixteen
Rachel decided it was real thoughtful of Esther to pack a meal for both her and Philip. She was also completely dumbfounded when Levi had suggested that Philip check in at the Zooks’ B&B for the night. “It’ll save him from havin’ to drive all the way back to Reading tonight.” Not only was it surprising, but Philip had actually agreed to the idea, making financial arrangements on the spot with Mam—who was tolerant of the idea—before they ever left the house.
Mam, she was sure, had had a change of heart toward Philip. Possibly toward other things, as she had not lashed out at Esther and Levi when they were talking ’bout their church in Ohio and some of the teachings. She actually wondered if Mam wasn’t mellowing somewhat. And if so, it had been a long time comin’!
So once again, Philip would stay temporarily in the southeast guest room—one of their very best. Rachel could hardly believe this was happening! ’Course, she knew better than to get her hopes up that anything would come of this visit. No, she would be foolish to assume such a thing. Philip was a busy man, and though she had no idea what a magazine writer did besides write stories to earn a living, well, she was perty sure he kept a fast pace in New York City.
They rode along in Philip’s car, Rachel enjoying the easygoing conversation with this modern fella in the driver’s seat. She still got little shivers when he said her name, though she found herself making an effort to shield her heart. She must make herself not care so much!
Together, they ate their sandwiches, then sang along with familiar Christmas carols on the radio. Later Philip said, “I bought a book for Annie … a Christmas present. I thought it would be all right.”
“Jah, ’tis. And Annie does like her books.”
“This one has full-color illustrations …; set in Amish country,” he explained. “It very well could be Lancaster County, though it doesn’t say for sure.”
“You’re very kind,” Rachel said, meaning it. Oh, how she meant it, but she guarded her response so as not to let on just how much.
They traveled awhile in complete silence, except for the soft radio music, until Philip spoke. “I don’t know how to bring this up … wouldn’t want you to misunderstand, but I’ve been doing some research. On your … type of blindness.” He said it with empathy, almost apologetically.
Rachel felt a sudden rush of warmth to her face and neck
. “Then you must be recallin’ what my mother said that day on the phone—’bout her own daughter bein’ ‘mental.’”
“I think I understand why she may have said that.”
“Jah, I’ve forgiven her. Mam means well.” She was eager to know what he’d discovered. “What did you find out … from your research, I mean?”
“Many interesting things.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “Have you ever thought of talking to a professional, Rachel? For some initial counseling, perhaps?”
She didn’t know how befitting it would be to tell him that she’d memorized many Scriptures dealing with divine healing but hadn’t thought of counseling much at all. She wasn’t sure if she should open herself up to this kind and ever so thoughtful Englischer. “I do happen to have the name of a therapist,” she said softly. “From a doctor at Community Hospital.”
“Then you’ve talked with someone?”
“Not a therapist … not yet.”
Philip didn’t speak again for a moment. Then, “What made you decide to go to the Crossroad?”
“I guess I’ve just been puttin’ it off long enough now, that’s all.”
“But the day after Christmas … is there some special reason?”
“Has nothin’ to do with it, really.”
“This is a big step for you, Rachel.”
She thought she might cry, hearing him speak so tenderly, as though he truly cared.
“All I know is I’m standin’ on the Word of God. It may sound a bit odd to you, but I believe the Lord’s been leadin’ me to the Crossroad for a gut long time. My whole life changed there in a split second of time.” She felt a bit more comfortable now, sharing with him the accident story, at least the things she’d begun to remember just in the past week. How Jacob had been driving the enclosed market wagon, their precious little children—Aaron and Annie—sitting behind them, playing and cuttin’ up a bit. “Honestly, I must’ve told Aaron to hush several times, at least,” she confessed. “But now, knowin’ what I know, that it was to be the very last day of his dear life, well, I’d give anything if I could take back those words.”
The Crossroad Page 14