Guardian, the

by Beverly Lewis

  Before putting the car in reverse, she looked up and saw the children running out of the house, all of them waving. Sarah held her angel doll high over her head and blinked back tears.

  Jodi opened her window. “I’ll be back in a few days,” she called to them as she inched back toward the road. When she looked again, she saw that Maryanna had joined her little ones outside, her arms around all four children, hugging them near.

  Jodi was halfway between Albany, New York, and Arlington, Vermont, when her mother’s ringtone sounded.

  “Hi, Mom,” she answered the phone. “How are you this beautiful day?”

  “Well, don’t you sound perky?”

  “I’m driving home to pack for my return trip to Hickory Hollow.”

  “So you must be planning to go through with the short-term teaching position?”

  Jodi said she was. “In a way, it’s on par with what Trent’s doing in Japan,” she said. “Minus the terrific pay, of course. But money’s not everything, right?”

  “Will you also be teaching English?”

  “Well, to three first graders, yes. The rest of the children speak it fairly well.”

  “You sound so good, honey.”

  Hearing that, Jodi realized she hadn’t felt quite like this since before Karen’s diagnosis. “I’m actually feeling pretty confident—and content—strange as it sounds.”

  “I’m happy for you.” Mom paused. “Keep in mind, though, that you’re potentially tying up the first two months of the new school year. Your father is concerned about what that might do to any job prospects.”

  “Right. But I’m viewing all of this as the chance of a lifetime, Mom. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “What will you do for the rest of the school year?” her mother pressed.

  “If nothing else comes up, I’m leaning toward subbing in my old school district.”

  Mom sighed into the phone. “So far from us, Jodi?”

  “It’s not any farther than it has been the past year.”

  “I guess I was just hoping.” Mom paused a second. “We were . . .”

  Jodi tried to put herself in her mother’s shoes. “I know you understand, Mom.”

  Her mother sighed and said she certainly did. “Well, your father sends his love along with mine.”

  “I love you both,” Jodi replied. “And I’m glad Dad’s not upset.”

  “Well . . .” Mom laughed softly. “I’ll just say that he’s getting over it.”

  “Is he offended?”

  “He really wanted to take care of his little girl.”

  Jodi smiled. I’m not little anymore.

  “Someday, if you have children, I think you’ll understand.”

  “Mom . . .”

  “I know, I know. You’re not interested, but I hate to think what our lives would have been like without you and Karen.”

  “Mom, we lost Karen.”

  Her mother fell silent for a moment. “Just think, though. What if we’d never known her . . . or you? Our lives are so much richer for having loved both of you, dear.”

  Deep down, Jodi knew she was right. “I miss her so much, Mom.”

  “Oh, honey, your father and I do, too. We think of her every day and count our blessings. But we can’t stop living just because we’re afraid of losing.”

  “That sounds like something my friend Maryanna would say.”

  An awkward silence ensued.

  “I don’t mean to sound pushy, Jodi.”

  “I know.”

  “Please drive carefully, and we’ll talk again soon.”

  “Okay.”

  “And text me when you’re home.”

  Jodi sputtered. “Text you, really?”

  Now they were both laughing.

  “Guess I’m a little desperate, eh?” her mother said.

  No kidding!

  “Bye, Mom.”

  “Good-bye, dear.”

  When they hung up, Jodi sighed and plugged her phone into the charging port. “Still lobbying for grandkids,” she whispered.

  Chapter 44

  Needing a few basics for tomorrow’s breakfast and lunch, Jodi stopped at a convenience store before driving to her apartment. Once there, she unloaded the car and carried her laptop, food items, and luggage inside, placing them on her bed. She glanced at her watch and quickly changed into comfortable sweats to prepare for her chat with Trent.

  Glad to be home, she went to the small living area, settled onto the sofa, and signed on, waiting for Trent. Her heart did a little skip when she saw him appear on her laptop screen. His light brown hair was mussed from having just rolled out of bed. It was, after all, morning in Japan. “Well, hello there . . . how are you?” she asked, grinning at him.

  “Ready to hit the ground running—don’t I look it?” He ran a hand through his bed hair. “And you must be home from Pennsylvania.”

  “I am. And it looks like you slept really well.”

  “Must’ve needed it.” He shrugged. “So we’ve had the big kickoff teachers’ meeting, and I met my students. A whirlwind here, but I’m having loads of fun.”

  “Sounds terrific.”

  “There are so many kids here who want to learn English. And their parents do, too.”

  “Have you picked up any Japanese yet?”

  “Maybe by osmosis.” He laughed, adoring eyes squinting nearly shut. “I’ve got the bare bones. You know: Hi, bye, and what’s for dinner?”

  “Knowing you, um, the latter’s very helpful.”

  He was smiling . . . always smiling. “I’ve been here, what, four days?”

  “Is the culture everything you imagined?”

  He said it was. “And much more. But let’s talk about you. How’s it feel to be home again, hon?”

  “Actually, I won’t be here very long.” She reminded him about her temporary move to Amish country—Trent had been astonished to hear the news from her Monday, after her meeting with the school board. “And get this: I’ll be teaching English to first graders, among other things.”

  He nodded. “Interesting, our parallel lives.”

  “I’m starting to think that, too.” She told him her plan to return home to be on the sub list until the end of the school year, if something more permanent didn’t open up. “I’ll only teach in Hickory Hollow for two months at most. They’re working on securing an Amish teacher.”

  “Well, don’t get hung up on the end game, okay?”

  “I’m not.” She shook her head. “I mean, I’m starting to believe I’m meant to do this.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “You sound like my dad.” She mentioned that her father was licking his wounds over her not going to Jersey to teach. “You know how protective he is.”

  “Hey, my parents are the same way. According to my sister, it’s the classic symptom of caring.”

  “As long as it’s not coupled with inflicting guilt.”

  They talked longer, primarily about his getting acclimated to eastern Asian culture—the food, the tight living quarters, and his students’ keen interest in education.

  She noticed how tired he looked. “Are you still jet-lagged?”

  “Well, if I am, I’m bouncing back.” He paused and looked right into the screen. “I really miss you, Jodi . . . not sure how we’re going to manage living this far apart.”

  “I miss you, too. Keep in mind how busy we’ll both be. Work’s a huge help.”

  He nodded, smiling. “The cross-cultural aspects of this program are eye-opening, hon. I’m gaining new perspectives and finding an incredibly warm welcome from everyone. And my students are so excited for English. They pull the passion for teaching right out of me.”

  She could relate and told him about the times spent with Maryanna Esh’s children and how eager they seemed to learn.

  “Excellent.” Trent continued, “My students are so outgoing and friendly, it’s amazing. They treat me like a rock star.”

  “Sounds like you’
re falling in love with them.”

  “It’s fascinating to discover how many other countries are represented in the exchange teaching program, too. The rewards, thus far, outweigh any negatives.”

  “I’m thrilled for you.” She meant it.

  “I wonder, sometimes, if I’ll ever love teaching this much in any other setting.”

  She smiled, delighted they were connecting on this level once again. “Just so you come home to me,” she whispered.

  Eventually, they said a reluctant good-bye and signed off so he could get ready for his day.

  Jodi was glad to see Trent so elated about this present calling. As for herself, she decided to put off packing until tomorrow and call it a day.

  By nine-thirty she was in bed, yearning for tomorrow.

  She thought of fluffy Gigi, remembering how Scott and Paige’s cat liked to sleep near her feet, on the bed. What if she could adopt a forsaken feline from the Humane Society? The right cat would be ideal company for the long year ahead.

  She slipped her hand beneath her pillow, glad she’d put fresh bed sheets on before leaving for Lancaster County. Drowsy now, Jodi caught herself breathing a prayer for her darling fiancé. Was it just an old habit reasserting itself, or was she beginning to open her heart . . . to trust God again?

  The waning side of a full moon shone impatiently through the undrawn blinds. But Jodi was too tired to care as her subconscious skipped toward dreamland . . . and Hickory Hollow.

  After a breakfast of fruity yogurt and healthy granola, Jodi began sorting through some of her books, including several Karen had given her. One was a leather-bound edition of Jesus Calling, a devotional she’d read faithfully up until Karen’s heavenly Homegoing.

  She turned the pages to the selection for the day. Just as in the past, she was astonished at the pertinence of the Scripture references, the way they seemed meant for her alone. She went about her packing, setting that book aside as a definite yes.

  Maryanna checked to make sure the washbowl and water pitcher on the bureau were clean as she prepared the guest room for Jodi Winfield. She solicited the girls’ help, and the three of them stripped the bed, even though no one had slept in it. Maryanna wanted the sheets to be absolutely fresh, along with the pillow slips, which she’d embroidered herself with yellow and orange pansies.

  She fussed over the summer-weight quilt, asking Leda if she thought it, too, should be washed. But, no, Leda didn’t think so and reminded her that they’d washed it after the last time they’d had visitors—second cousins of Benuel’s from Sugarcreek, Ohio.

  There were no curtains in this room, although with an Englischer here, perhaps she needed something to dress the three windows. Then, thinking twice about it, she knew it wasn’t the best idea to push things such as that. The typical green shades were the norm, although she’d seen cotton and lace curtains over the same green shades when she and Benuel had visited his Amish relatives in other states, especially Kentucky and Indiana.

  “We need clean hand towels and two washcloths,” she told little Sarah, asking her to fetch them. “And let’s air out the room, too.” She suggested Leda have Benny bring in the fan again. “And see if there’s some room freshener somewhere in the pantry.”

  “All right, Mamma.” Leda turned and paused in the doorway. “Do we need more furniture in here?”

  Maryanna looked about the room, noting the bed, single cane chair, and small bureau. “I don’t know—what do you think?”

  “Depends on how much Jodi’s bringing.”

  “True . . . true. Thank goodness your father added those shelves.” She pointed to the alcove on the far wall.

  “But there’s no closet,” Leda remarked. She looked flushed up here in the heat of the day.

  “She’ll just have to hang her things on the wooden pegs like we do,” Maryanna said, thinking there were plenty of things Jodi would be quite unaccustomed to. More than that, she hoped having Jodi under their roof would be a blessing to all and not a mistake. She hadn’t actually second-guessed her decision to invite Jodi Winfield until just now. Especially not after little Sarah confided in her that Jodi’s coming was an answer to her secret prayers.

  Joshua never expected his rushing after Ida Fisher last Sunday would prompt her to show up at his back door again that Thursday morning. But she was there all the same.

  This time, she’d brought him warm rhubarb pie and had it all wrapped in a cardboard box, saying she hoped he might enjoy it over a period of days. Hesitantly, he invited her inside to share some of the pie. Right quick, he discovered Ida was happy to accept. She even offered to cut two pieces for them, prior to the noon meal. He was not in any position to present her with anything more substantial, given his penchant these days for quick sandwiches.

  The parrot seemed to be well behaved enough, which put Joshua more at ease. Anymore, he was never sure what Malachi was going to say. Sometimes it just wasn’t pretty.

  “I’ll take ya riding this coming Saturday evening, Ida,” he said. “All right with you?”

  “That’d be nice as can be, Joshua.”

  She seems so willing to please. He’d noticed her resolve at her supper table last weekend, as well.

  There was no way to explain away his feeling of obligation to the woman. He had tasted her delicious food and suspected there was much more behind the bait she’d flung out to him—a fish in the sea of singleness. Yet was he merely comparing Ida to the high standard of good-hearted Suzanne?

  Or is it Maryanna?

  Still, he could do a lot worse than making Ida his wife, he decided. And Joshua did like her cooking. Besides that, she didn’t despise his pets.

  Chapter 45

  After the noon meal Friday, Maryanna and her children worked in the greenhouse preparing orders for mums and other potted autumn flowers, as well as broccoli and cauliflower plants. Leda busied herself in the area set aside for starting Christmas poinsettias while the boys carefully watered the ferns. Maryanna and little Sarah worked together to mix soil for potting future plants, as well as a few dozen flowering cacti.

  The sight of them as the girls sang “Jesus Loves Me” made Maryanna smile. Benuel had intended their life to be this way—a family that works together and prays together will always be close.

  She could hear Benny telling Tobias that there were one hundred and forty words in the “Loblied,” and he was close to having all of them memorized. “Won’t be much longer now,” Benny said.

  Young Tobias’s eyes shone with admiration for his brother.

  “Just think, you’ll be over there, too, one day, walking into church with the other men and boys,” Benny told him.

  Instead of with Mamma, Maryanna thought sentimentally. How quickly her young ones were growing up. Benuel has missed all this. . . .

  Jodi surveyed the Amish guest room that afternoon. The walls were a subdued forest green, a paler hue of the shades rolled high on each of the tall windows. The wood plank floor was covered in two places—this side of the bed and in front of the old bureau—with large braided rugs in variegated colors. There was a pretty yellow, green, and ivory quilt adorning the double bed, bookended by its head and footboards. The bed’s style was one she’d seen only in the flea markets and musty antique stores her mother adored.

  Maryanna pointed out the row of pegs on the wall, apologizing for the lack of a closet, though that suited Jodi fine. But it was the bureau with its small white candle in a brass holder that intrigued her. She noticed a book of matches tucked partway underneath the candle holder, and an Amish prayer book set off to the side.

  “The drawers are all empty.” Maryanna pulled the middle one out to show her. “And a washcloth and towel are on the washstand.”

  Jodi was shown where the upstairs bathroom was located, a simple room with commode, sink, and a tub shower. “It certainly can be just for you, if need be,” Maryanna offered.

  Knowing there were already five of them, Jodi refused politely, saying she could easily
share with the girls. The downstairs washroom was primarily used as a mudroom, and the boys showered down there, just as Jodi had suspected. “You really don’t have to treat me like a guest,” she said.

  “You’re almost family,” Maryanna said with a smile, motioning Jodi over to Sarah’s room to show her the little English outfit she’d worn home the day Jodi found her. “She’s determined to keep it for always.”

  Jodi told her the skirt and top had been pulled out of a clothes donation bag. “Now that I think back on it, the clothing was providential—the timing of it.”

  Maryanna smiled at that. “Well, you’ve got some skirts and blouses to make, right?” Maryanna said, offering Leda to help lay out the patterns in the sewing room down the hall. Mammi Emmie next door had agreed to sew them once the fabric was cut and ready to go. “Meanwhile, I have some eggs to gather with Sarah.”

  Leda came upstairs soon, and Jodi spent a half hour with her, pinning patterns and cutting out fabric in the cheerful sewing room. When Emmie Mast arrived and sat down at the treadle sewing machine, Jodi was grateful. It reminded her of Aunt Leora’s old pump organ, bequeathed to her from her own grandmother in Barre, Vermont.

  “Yous did a nice job,” Leda’s grandmother said, smiling as she worked.

  “Thanks to Leda.” Jodi thanked both of them yet again and admitted she’d never sewn a stitch in her life. “Maybe I should learn.” The thought of Trent’s desire for a family suddenly skipped across her thoughts.

  He might be surprised at what I’m picking up here!

  By the next afternoon, Jodi had become well versed in pressing skirt seams flat—the blouses were yet to come—with a gas iron. She also took time to visit with Rosaleen, who dropped by with curriculum for the upper grades. They discussed the first-day quiz, including such questions as: What is the capital of our country? Do your parents subscribe to a newspaper? Can you manage without any whispering in school? Jodi smiled at that one—she remembered getting caught doing the latter herself in grade school.