“Then we fished him out,” Giselle added.
I tilted my head, trying to absorb the story and the thought of Giselle staying with the Gundys, helping Nancy with the kids, canning with Alice. As hard as I tried, looking at the woman in front of me, I couldn’t quite get there.
I introduced Morgan to Giselle before she could start in on another story, and Morgan told her how much she liked her artwork. Giselle was obviously pleased with the praise. Morgan asked how long she’d been weaving, and Giselle answered for more than twenty years. Their conversation moved into a discussion of local galleries, and as they chatted a little longer I stood back, taking the two of them in, wondering why I seemed to be the only person not able to have a normal conversation with my birth mother.
Eventually, Giselle said she had an order she needed to work on. After she left, Alice said that Giselle’s memories had worn her out, even though she’d had a morning nap. Soon she was asleep, and Morgan, Christy, and I went out to the waiting room. Morgan asked if Giselle had told me anything about when I was a baby. I pursed my lips and shook my head.
Because I didn’t want Christy watching more TV, I pulled Jane Eyre out of my purse and began to read it aloud.
Two hours later, after Alice had awakened and we were back in the room with her, the phone rang. It was Daniel, who was calling to say that George was planning to pick Will up at the Bern airport unless we wanted to.
“I can drive,” Morgan said when I relayed the conversation to her. “I have my dad’s GPS.”
“I want to go too,” Christy said.
“Of course,” I said. I relayed their answers to Daniel, who said he’d like to tag along if that was okay. He said George had offered to come down and sit with Alice while we were gone. He’d much rather do that than drive in the dark on roads he wasn’t familiar with.
We ate dinner at the hospital, stopped by Amielbach for Daniel, and then left for Bern. An hour later we were on the outskirts of the city. George had told Will he’d pick him up at the arrivals around nine thirty.
Daniel sat up front and helped Morgan navigate her way by the instructions of the GPS. He pointed out that the airport was west of the city, and we were bypassing the old part of town. When we approached the arrivals, Morgan said to Christy, whose face was pressed up to the window, “Keep an eye out for your dad.”
Pedestrians rushed across the street and taxis lined the roadway in front of us. Morgan slowed. The car ahead of us pulled to the curb.
“He’ll definitely be easy to recognize,” Daniel said.
“There he is!” Christy reached for the door handle, but I told her to wait. I didn’t see him. But then there he was, coming toward us with a wide smile on his face, his black hat firmly on his head, the only Plain man anywhere in sight. He must have spotted Christy through the window.
Morgan came to a complete stop and Christy bolted from the car. As Will rushed forward, swooping his daughter up into a hug, my pulse surged at the sight of him.
“Look at that,” Morgan said, her head tilted so she could see out the window. “What a perfect picture they make.”
Daniel and I climbed out of the car, and the two men shook hands. Will then gave me a warm pat on the shoulder. All he carried was a single bag and the box from Mammi under his arm. The trunk popped up—obviously Morgan had anticipated our need—and Will stashed the bag in the trunk and then ceremoniously handed the box to me. I took it from him, running a hand over the design that had been carved into the lid. It was of a farmhouse and a barn, nestled among wheat fields, with sloping hills in the background.
Daniel offered Will the front seat, but he said he’d sit in the back with Christy. Cradling the box to my chest, I hurried around to the other side and climbed in behind Morgan. Christy settled into the middle and then Will began trying to squeeze himself into the space next to her.
“Not exactly the same as American cars, eh?” Daniel teased, watching the struggle Will was going through. Christy chuckled but her father just grunted.
Once he managed to get his long legs all the way in and close the door, I took a moment to introduce him to Morgan.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, reaching up between the seats to shake her hand. “Here I was expecting a middle-aged Mennonite man to be sitting at the wheel, and instead it’s a young American woman.”
We all laughed.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Morgan replied as she put on her blinker to pull out from the curb. “Next time I’ll wear a plaid shirt and strap on a beard.” We all laughed at the thought.
Soon we were off. While Morgan navigated the busy streets of Bern and Will asked Christy about the trip, I turned my attention back to the box in my lap. Again running my fingers over the wood, I asked Will if he knew where this scene was from.
“According to Frannie, that’s Elsbeth’s family farm in Indiana.”
“Indiana? But wasn’t it carved by Abraham here in Switzerland?”
I knew Daniel was listening, and no doubt his imagination was spinning. “Did Abraham come to America after all?” he asked.
Morgan chimed in. “How else would he have known what to carve unless he saw the place himself? It’s not as though they would have sent him a photo.”
“I don’t know if he traveled to Indiana or not,” Will said. “Frannie didn’t elaborate. She did say he sent the box from Switzerland, though. That I remember.”
None of us could fault Will for not asking more questions. Clearly, his mind had been on other things.
“May I see it?” Daniel asked, eyeing the box eagerly.
As I passed it up to him, Will told him, “Frannie asked me to apologize on her behalf. She’s embarrassed that she didn’t remember the box of letters earlier when you came to Lancaster County. But she said she hadn’t looked through them or even really thought about them for many years.”
“It’s not surprising she wouldn’t have thought of it, then,” I commented, feeling bad that Mammi was embarrassed.
“I just hope they’ll prove to be of some use,” Daniel said as he carefully lifted the lid and looked inside.
Will shrugged, glancing at me. “To be honest, I looked through the letters on the flight over, but the ink has faded and I could only make out a few words.”
“Thanks for trying, at least,” I responded, hoping Daniel would be able to do better.
Bored with our talk of letters and boxes, Christy asked her father who was caring for Mat and Mel while he was gone.
“Aunt Hannah mostly, during the days,” Will replied, referring to his sister, “though others will be taking turns each night.”
“Like who?” Christy pressed.
“Well, Leah Fisher came over and stayed with them last night. Tonight I think it’s your grandmother, and then Sally after that. If this ends up taking longer than we thought, there’s also Ezra, Ella, maybe Leah again…”
As he went on, I couldn’t help but think that it sounded as though Leah Fisher had an active role in his life. Closing my eyes, I could almost imagine how the whole thing had played out. I thought of Will leaving a message for her, asking for her help. I imagined how pleased she would have been to spend the night at his house. Of course, he wasn’t there when she did, but still I bristled.
Last night, once the twins were asleep, had she gone into his bedroom, perhaps even slept in his bed? This morning, had she stood at his stove cooking for his children and told herself it was only a matter of time until it was her stove, her children?
Stop it, I scolded myself silently, opening my eyes. How Leah and Will conducted themselves both before and after their engagement was their business, not mine.
I realized Christy was telling Will all about Amielbach and Giselle’s cottage. Then she told him about the ship and the train. As she talked, I reprimanded myself again for even caring about someone else’s relationship. It really wasn’t my business. I needed to be happy for them, not always sulking about what obviously wasn’t meant to be for me. After a whi
le Christy stopped talking and soon fell fast asleep, curled tightly against her daed.
“She hasn’t been this talkative in months,” Will said to me in a soft voice.
“She’s done better than I thought she would with Alice ill,” I said. I didn’t add that Christy finally seemed to accept me once she really needed me. It would be interesting to see how she responded to me now that Will was here. Later, I would have to tell him about our conversation regarding Lydia—or at least give him the gist of it so he could understand the feelings of guilt his daughter had been carrying.
Other than the soft music playing on the radio, we rode in silence. Daniel had put on a pair of white gloves and was reading the letters with the help of a flashlight, but he wasn’t saying anything. His yellow hair was bright even in the darkness.
“How is Giselle?” Will asked, his voice low.
“Good,” I said. “She was with Alice for the first part of the day.”
“I’ll stay at the hospital tonight.”
“That’s too much, Will,” I said. “You’ll be tired after your trip.”
“I slept on the plane. I’ll be all right.”
I told him Christy and I had spent last night at Giselle’s. “They’re expecting you at Amielbach.”
He said he’d figure it out in the morning and thanked me, again, for taking care of Christy. He pulled her closer. “I’m hoping we’ll all be back together soon, and the twins won’t be much out of sorts with me being gone.”
After that neither one of us spoke. Will leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Morgan maneuvered the car around a curve, and Will and Christy scooted toward me a little. His hand, which was on Christy’s arm, brushed against my shoulder. I shivered. As Morgan came out of the curve, Will and Christy scooted the other way.
“How are you doing back there?” Morgan’s voice was low and soothing.
“Gut. I mean good,” I answered.
Then I must have fallen asleep too, because I startled when we came to a stop. We were in the hospital parking lot, directly beside Giselle’s car.
“I’ll stay out here with Christy,” Morgan offered as Will opened his door. Still buried in the letters, Daniel mumbled something and I realized he’d be staying in the car as well—in fact, he was so fully focused on the task that I wasn’t even sure if he realized we’d arrived.
Will thanked Morgan and kissed Christy goodnight. She stirred, and he told her he’d see her in the morning. Her eyes flickered and she muttered something to him, but in a split second she was fully asleep again.
I led the way through the front doors of the hospital and down the hall to Alice’s room.
When we stepped inside and Will saw Giselle, he stopped.
She stepped toward him. “Little Will Gundy,” she said and then broke into a grin.
“Giselle Lantz,” he answered. And then he hugged her. My heart ached at the sight of them, the two people who yanked at my heartstrings the most, embracing each other.
Giselle motioned for him to step closer to the bed. “I spelled George about an hour ago, but he said Alice wanted to be woken up when you arrived.”
As he leaned toward his grandmother, she opened her eyes. “Will,” she whispered.
He bent down and kissed her cheek, and she wrapped her good arm around his neck. When he pulled away, she swiped at her eyes. “I’m so thankful you’re here.” Her voice was barely audible.
Will told Giselle he would stay the night and she could go on home. As she bent to kiss Alice goodnight, I again felt a twinge of jealousy, wishing Giselle would be as warm with me as she was with Will and Alice.
“Did you bring the letters from Frannie?” Alice asked as she sat up a little in bed.
“Daniel has them in the car,” Will said. “He’ll give them to Herr Lauten.”
Alice looked at me. “Anything so far?”
“The ink is pretty faint. Daniel’s out there skimming them with a flashlight. As far as I know, he hasn’t found anything yet.”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Will said to Alice, his eyes tender. “All that matters is getting you home. Enough of this wild goose chase, ya? God will take care of us, one way or the other.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Giselle was fine with Morgan spending the night, as long as she didn’t mind sleeping on the sofa. I was just flattered to know that though Morgan could have stayed at Amielbach, she chose to stay with us instead. While I got Christy settled, I could hear the other two women talking in the living room. After a minute or two their voices grew louder and then drifted down the hallway.
Christy and I kneeled beside the futon and said our prayers. I don’t know what Christy prayed about, but I prayed that Alice would recover, that God would direct the course of the hearing tomorrow, and that Daniel and Herr Lauten would figure out where the agreement was. Mostly, I prayed I would get over Will, both completely and immediately. I didn’t want to suffer through the pain of my longings. I also thanked God that Morgan had joined us and asked that she would see evidence of Him working in her life.
Images of Mel and Mat filled my mind, and I prayed they would do all right while their daed was gone. They were the ages now Lexie was when she’d been given up for adoption. My heart stopped cold. I couldn’t imagine what Giselle felt back then when she agreed to relinquish Lexie. How could she bear it? How could she bear to see me now, for that matter, the one she had given up to her sister at birth? As I said “Amen,” I was overcome with sudden sympathy for my birth mother.
After tucking Christy in and pulling the office door closed, I stood in the hallway, listening for voices to figure out where Morgan and Giselle had gone. Giselle’s bedroom door was open and I peeked inside, but no one was in there. The room had a single bed with a traditional Amish quilt—small blocks of green, burgundy, purple, and blue squares on a black background. She had several candles around the room—on the bureau and bedside table and in two holders on the wall, but none of them had been lit. A shelf of books was on the far wall, and on top of it were skeins of thread. In the corner was a small antique spinning wheel. The room felt as if someone actually lived in it, unlike the stark living room and kitchen. There were two doors in the room, closets I assumed, but one was cracked open a little. I could hear a soft murmur, voices I was sure.
I paused for a moment, jealous that not only had Giselle picked up her relationships from twenty-four years ago with both Alice and Will, but that she was willing to have one with Morgan too. But not with me.
I felt I would be intruding to step through the door into the other room. I hadn’t been invited. But if I was going to have any connection with Giselle at all, it had to be my doing. I didn’t see that she was going to put forth the effort. It wasn’t something she needed or wanted.
I forged ahead, stepping quickly through her bedroom. Rapping my knuckles on the door, I said, “Knock, knock,” as I slowly pushed it open.
“Come on in,” Giselle answered.
She and Morgan were standing beside a large loom.
“I asked Giselle to show me her studio,” Morgan said.
I stepped further into the room. It was about the same size as the bedroom but far more cluttered. Shelves filled with thread and yarn lined one wall. Pieces of paper covered a long table. At the far end of the room were six wall hangings, five of them incomplete. The completed one was of the back of an Amish woman with three little girls huddled around her. Only one of the child’s faces could be seen, and she wore a sad expression. The unfinished weavings were of stars and flowers, similar to the ones in the gift shop.
“She’s working on a commissioned piece,” Morgan said. “For the gallery owner where her exhibit is.”
I stepped closer to the loom. It was only a third of the way done, but clearly Amielbach and the waterfall were in the weaving. It was in black and white, except for red flowers in the window boxes.
“The woman likes the idea of the traditional tapestries with a modern twist, so I’m doing an
estate scene with a limited color scheme.”
I knew nothing about art, but I didn’t really like what I saw. It was too stark and sterile. Especially considering how vibrant the scene was in real life.
Morgan began asking her questions about the process she went through to execute her ideas. I excused myself after a couple of minutes and went back to check on Christy. She was sound asleep. I pulled Jane Eyre from my purse and an extra blanket from the end of the bed and went out to the living room to read until Morgan was ready to go to bed. After a few pages, I leaned my head back, feeling more restless than I had before I left Lancaster County. Seeing Giselle had resolved nothing except answering my question as to what she looked like. I closed my eyes, but the anxiety inside of me only grew more acute. The sound of my name startled me and my eyes flew open.
Giselle stood in the middle of the room. “Ada,” she said again.
I sat up straight. I could hear water in the bathroom and surmised Morgan was taking a shower.
Giselle stepped a little closer. “It feels so odd to say your name.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I named Alexandra—or Lexie, as she’s called now.”
“But you didn’t have anything to do with naming me?”
She shook her head. “Klara did, as she should have.” She looked past me, toward the window.
I wanted her to sit down and keep talking but she continued to stand. “What was that like for you back then?” I finally managed to say.
Her eyes jumped and she focused on me again as her eyebrows rose. “Honestly?”
I nodded.
“I can’t remember. I haven’t thought about all of that in years.” She paused and then looked at me intently. “Do you know that you’re the perfect picture of a Plain woman?” She didn’t sound as if she was paying me a compliment, and I wondered if her use of the word “Plain” had a double meaning. “And I can see by the way you dote on Christy that you’ll be a good mother.” She sighed. “In fact, what’s surprising is that you’re not married yet. How long ago did you join the church? Six or seven years?”
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