The Bishop's Daughter

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The Bishop's Daughter Page 22

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  “Let us know what you find out. We’ll do everything we can to help.” Caleb looked over at Naomi and smiled. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Uh—of course. Danki for coming by, Leona.” Naomi turned away. “I guess I’ll check on the girls.” As much as Naomi wanted Millie to do well in school, she couldn’t accept the fact that the child might have a serious problem. And she couldn’t help but wonder if she might have caused the problem by not giving Millie enough attention.

  Since Leona had finished her business with the Hoffmeirs and knew she had a few minutes before Jimmy would be back, she decided to step into the quilt shop to say hello to Mary Ann. She found her and Abby sitting at the quilting table.

  “How’s business?” Leona asked, stepping between the two women.

  “We’re very busy, even with the cooler weather and not so many tourists as we had this summer.” Abby smiled, then excused herself to wait on a customer who’d entered the store.

  Leona glanced at Mary Ann, noticing how her fingers flew in and out of the quilting material like there was no tomorrow. “Sure wish I could sew like that,” she said. “Even though Mom taught me all the basic skills when I was a girl, I’ve never been able to sew as well as some women my age.”

  “I’m not really an expert at sewing, but I do enjoy making quilts. And I think the more I make, the better I get.” Mary Ann grinned up at her. “How are things with you?”

  “Not so good.” Leona glanced over her shoulder at the door to the adjoining store. “Millie’s still having a hard time in school, and when I tried to talk to her mamm about it, she seemed kind of defensive.”

  “My big sister always has been sensitive about things. When it comes to one of her kinner not doing well in school, I’m guessing she feels as if she’s failed as a mudder somehow.”

  Leona shook her head. “If anyone’s failed Millie, it’s me.”

  Mary Ann touched Leona’s arm. “How can you say that? You’re a good teacher, and from what I hear, all your scholars think you’re the bescht.”

  “I don’t feel as if I’m the best of anything these days.”

  “Of course you are. You’ll figure out some way to deal with Millie’s problem.”

  Leona was about to comment when Jimmy poked his head into the quilt shop and waved. “Oh, my ride’s here, so I guess I’d better go.”

  Mary Ann nodded. “I’ll be praying that God gives you the wisdom you need to help Millie.”

  “Danki,” Leona said and then hurried from the room.

  As Leona took a seat across from Jimmy in a booth at the Bird-in-Hand Family Restaurant, her muscles felt so tight she thought her bones might snap. She kept thinking about the response she’d gotten from Millie’s parents concerning Millie having dyslexia, and she wondered why Naomi had seemed so defensive.

  She scrunched her napkin into a tight little ball. If I just had more knowledge about things like this, it might not be such a problem.

  “Would you like to choose something from the menu, or would you rather have the lunch buffet?” Jimmy asked.

  “Uh—it doesn’t really matter. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  He chuckled. “Now that’s what I like—a woman who’s easy to please.”

  “Not really. I get frustrated when things don’t go as I’d hoped.”

  Leona studied the geometric design on her placemat, then looked up when she sensed he was staring at her. “You seem to take life as it comes, Jimmy. I mean, look how well you’ve adjusted to living here. It’s almost as if you’ve been in Lancaster County all your life.”

  Jimmy’s eyes brightened, and he leaned slightly forward. “You really think so?”

  “I do. In fact, Arthur mentioned once that whenever you’ve worn a straw hat while you were working you looked like you could even be Amish.”

  “Well, maybe that’s because—”

  Jimmy’s words were halted when the waitress came and asked if they were ready to order.

  “I think I’ll have the buffet. That way I can pick and choose all the things I like best.” He smiled at the pretty English waitress, and she gave him a quick wink.

  A pang of jealousy seared through Leona. “I–I’ll have the same.” She knew it was silly to feel this way. She had no claim on Jimmy. And never would.

  Leona followed Jimmy to the salad bar, determined to shake off the sullen mood she’d been in since they’d left the Hoffmeirs’ store.

  They returned to the table a few minutes later, and Jimmy suggested they offer a silent prayer.

  Leona looked up when she’d finished her prayer. Seeing that Jimmy was done praying, she picked up her salad fork.

  “I sure like these pickled-beet eggs,” he said, cutting one in half and forking it into his mouth. “I’d never heard of them ’til I came here.”

  “Do you miss Washington?” she asked.

  “There are some things I miss about it.”

  “When do you think you’ll go back?”

  “I don’t know. It all depends on how things go.”

  She tipped her head in question.

  “You see, I came here on a mission, but I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet.”

  “What mission?”

  Jimmy leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “I thought I was ready to share some things with you, but until I’m able to make a decision as to whether I should stay, it would probably be best if I don’t talk about it.”

  Leona watched Jimmy fiddle with the end of his spoon, wondering if he had some sort of secret. If so, then why’d he bring up the subject if he wasn’t planning to tell her what it was?

  Jimmy crossed his arms and stared at her from across the table. She wished he wouldn’t do that. It filled her with a strange mixture of longing and fear.

  “I shared a few things with your daed not long ago, but I think I only confused the poor man,” he said after a few seconds went by.

  Like you’re confusing me? Leona’s tongue felt as if it was fastened to the roof of her mouth. Why would Jimmy take Papa into his confidence and not me?

  “There is one thing I’d like to ask you, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was wondering what the Amish would do if a person—an Englisher—hurt someone in their family.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “I–I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Would they prosecute the guy and send him to jail?”

  She shook her head. “That’s not the Amish way.”

  A look of relief spread over Jimmy’s face as he leaned against his seat.

  “Are you in some kind of trouble? Are you worried about going to jail?”

  “Not me,” he said in a near whisper. “It’s someone I know, and I’m sure he’ll be relieved to hear that he won’t be prosecuted for what he did.”

  Leona was tempted to question Jimmy further, but she figured if he wanted her to know he would have shared the details. “I guess I’ll go back to the buffet and see what else is there,” she said, rising to her feet.

  “You go ahead,” he said. “I’m going to finish my salad first.”

  As Leona walked away, feelings of confusion and doubt swirled in her head. What kind of secret was Jimmy keeping from her, and why had she allowed herself to be swept away by a tide of emotions whenever she was with him?

  When Leona answered a knock at the back door one Saturday morning, she was surprised to see Lettie Byler, the Amish schoolteacher Eli Raber had been courting, standing on the porch.

  “Guder mariye, Lettie,” Leona said. “What brings you by so early this morning?”

  “After our last teachers’ meeting, when you mentioned the problem one of your scholars was having, I decided to speak to my Mennonite friend, Katherine, who’s a nurse. When I told her that you suspected Millie has dyslexia, she gave me this article on children with various learning disabilities.” Lettie handed the piece of paper to Leona.

  Hope welled up in Leona’s soul. “Danki for
sharing this with me.”

  “The article not only lists the symptoms of dyslexia, but it also offers some suggestions you might want to try.”

  “Jah, I’ll surely do that.” Leona opened the door wider. “It’s too cold for us to be visiting on the porch. Won’t you come inside and have a cup of tea with me and my mamm?”

  “Maybe some other time,” Lettie said sweetly. “I’m on my way to the Rabers’ to see Eli. As I’m sure you’ve probably heard, he fell off a ladder last week while he was painting a supermarket. Thank the Lord he wasn’t seriously hurt, but he did sprain his ankle real bad, so he hasn’t been down to Strasburg to see me in a while.”

  The mention of Eli falling from a ladder made Leona shudder as memories of Papa’s accident filled her mind with gloom. Even now, she could still see him falling to the ground and landing with a sickening thud.

  “You’re shivering, and I must let you get back inside where it’s warm,” Lettie said as she turned to go.

  “Danki for coming by. I’ll let you know how things go with Millie.”

  The following Monday, as Leona opened the door of the woodstove to stoke the fire before her pupils arrived, she thought about the article on dyslexia Lettie had given her. It had been full of helpful suggestions, listing various ideas, such as breaking words and information into smaller chunks and placing colored overlays over the top of the pages the child would be reading. It also mentioned the use of a tape recorder, computer CD, and videotapes, but Leona knew those wouldn’t be acceptable tools in her Amish community.

  She was, however, determined to try some of the suggestions on Millie today, and she’d even brought a sheet of blue cellophane to experiment with the color-changing idea.

  Leona had just closed the door on the woodstove when she heard the sound of heavy footsteps clomping up the front steps. Glancing at the clock on the far wall and realizing it was only seven thirty, she figured the footsteps didn’t belong to any of the students, since school wouldn’t start for another hour.

  She smoothed the sides of her dress to be sure there were no wrinkles, checked her head covering to make sure it was properly in place, and went to open the door. She was surprised to discover Abner standing on the porch with a box of firewood at his feet.

  “It’s my week to furnish wood for the schoolhouse,” he said. “So I’m dropping it off now, before I head to work.”

  She glanced past him into the school yard. “Is Emanuel with you?”

  Abner shook his head. “He didn’t want to get here early, so he said he’d walk with some of the kinner who live near our place.”

  “That makes sense.” Leona motioned to the box of firewood. “Danki for this, and if you wouldn’t mind moving the box to the other end of the porch, it would be much appreciated.”

  “Sure, I can do that.” Abner bent to pick up the box, and he carried it across the porch with little effort. Once he’d set it down, Leona figured he would be on his way. Instead, he shuffled over to where she waited and stood there as though he were waiting for something.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with, Abner?”

  “Jah, there is.” He scuffed his boots against the wooden planks and stared at the porch.

  “If it’s about Emanuel, you’ll be pleased to know that he’s done real well here of late. I haven’t had a bit of trouble with him misbehaving for many weeks.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, but it’s not my little bruder I want to talk about. I—uh—wanted to ask you something about a—a friend of yours.”

  “Which friend are you referring to?”

  “Mary Ann Fisher.”

  Leona folded her arms to ward off the cold, wishing she’d had the foresight to grab her jacket before opening the door. “Would you like to come inside where it’s warmer?”

  “Jah, sure. I guess that would be better than standin’ here in this chilly weather.” Abner tamped the snow off his boots and followed her into the schoolhouse.

  “What did you want to ask me about Mary Ann?” Leona asked, once she’d shut the door and taken a seat behind her desk.

  Abner removed his hat and leaned against one of the desks in the front row. “I—I was wonderin’ if she’s—uh—bein’ courted by anyone.”

  Leona bit her lip to keep from smiling. Her concern that Abner might be interested in courting her had been put to rest. Apparently, he had an interest in Mary Ann and had been too shy to show it. “Why, no, Abner,” she replied. “I don’t believe Mary Ann’s seeing anyone right now.”

  A look of relief flooded his face, and his cheeks turned pink. “That’s good to hear.” He stood there, twisting the end of his hat brim and staring at the floor. Finally, he lifted his gaze and said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to put in a good word for me.”

  “You mean with Mary Ann?”

  “Jah.”

  “I guess I could, but don’t you think it would be better if you spoke to her on your own?”

  “I’d kind of like to find out how she feels about me first. That way I won’t be embarrassed if I ask to court her and she says no.”

  Leona nodded. “I’ll speak with Mary Ann when I get a chance, and I’ll let you know what she says.”

  “Danki. I’d appreciate that.” Abner plopped his hat on his head, swung around, and headed for the door. “You’re a good friend, Leona,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Seems I’m everyone’s friend these days,” she mumbled as he shut the door. “Everyone’s friend but Papa’s.”

  Jim glanced at the clock sitting on the small table beside his bed and was shocked to see that it was only 5:00 a.m., yet he felt fully awake, energetic, and ready to meet the day. It was the first time in many weeks that he’d felt so well, and he figured the reason was because he’d attended an AA meeting with Holly on Friday night. On Saturday, they’d gone to dinner so they could get better acquainted and discuss some of the things Jim had learned at the meeting. He’d come to realize during their meal that he was physically attracted to Holly, and he planned to take her on a real date soon.

  Jim pondered a couple of things he’d learned at the AA meeting. “Live and let live. Easy does it. Think, think, think. First things first,” he quoted from four of the five slogans he’d seen posted on the meeting-room wall. Those all made good sense.

  He burrowed into the pillows propped against his headboard, remembering how he’d chosen to ignore the last slogan because it didn’t apply to him. “Slogan number five,” he muttered. “But for the grace of God.”

  “Where was God’s grace when I learned that I couldn’t father a child? Where was God’s grace when Linda died from cancer?” Jim groaned. “Where was God’s grace when my boy took off for Maryland without telling me he was going and ended up in Pennsylvania searching for his Amish family? And where is God’s grace now, when Jimmy won’t return any of my phone calls?”

  As Jim crawled out of bed and ambled across the room, his initial exuberance melted away with each step. When he reached the window, he pulled the curtain aside and peered out. The predawn darkness greeted him.

  He gritted his teeth and crushed the end of the curtain between his fingers. I’m determined to get my life straightened around, and I don’t need God or His grace to do it.

  “Good morning, boys and girls.”

  “Good morning, Teacher.”

  Leona scanned the room to see if any children were absent, then began the school day by reading James 1:5: “ ‘If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.’ ”

  I need that verse as much as the scholars do today, Lord, she silently prayed. Help me to know what to do in order to help Millie learn to read and write.

  When Leona had closed her Bible, the children rose, bowed their heads, and repeated the Lord’s Prayer in unison. After the prayer, they filed to the front of the room and stood in their assigned places according to age and size so they could sing a few songs
in German and English.

  Then the students returned to their seats, and it was time for class to begin. Grades five to eight exchanged arithmetic papers and checked them before handing them to Leona. Grades three and four gave their papers to an older child to check; and grades three to eight began their lesson by doing the assignment Leona had posted on the blackboard before school.

  The children in the first and second grades took turns reading by page, but Leona worked individually with Millie, asking her to read out of her primer by sentences. Since the article Lettie had given Leona said that breaking words into smaller chunks had helped some children with dyslexia, she decided to try that approach first. However, after a few tries, she soon realized it wasn’t going to work for Millie.

  “The letters are shakin’, Teacher,” the child complained. “And they’re movin’ around on the page.”

  Next, Leona tried substituting a rhyming word for another word on the page, to see if Millie was listening, but that didn’t work, either.

  Finally, she went to her desk and withdrew the piece of blue cellophane she’d brought from home and placed it over the top of the page Millie was trying to read. “What’s this say?” she asked, pointing to the word dog.

  “D-O-G.” Millie smiled up at Leona. “Dog.”

  With a mounting sense of excitement, Leona pointed to another word.

  “C-A-T. Cat.”

  “That’s right.” Leona patted the top of Millie’s head. “Now keep reading.”

  Knowing she needed to work with some of the other pupils, Leona put her helper in charge of Millie and moved over to the other side of the room. She’d just reached Emanuel’s desk and was about to ask him a question when the front door opened, and Naomi stepped in.

  Most parents usually notified her when they planned to stop by. Once in a while, though, a parent would make a surprise visit. Apparently, that was what Naomi had in mind, for she stepped up to Leona and said, “I came to see how my kinner are doing—especially Millie.”

 

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