by Anna Schmidt
“Oh Sadie, please don’t take all of this on yourself,” Emma pleaded. “There’s blame enough to go around. We may not have been in the car, but your father and I could have stopped you from getting in Dan’s car that morning. And what about Dan and his responsibility in all of this?”
“No. Rachel told me that how I decide to carry my guilt and remorse is what will matter when my turn comes to face God. Please let’s just call and ask her what she thinks.”
Lars had never been more impressed with his daughter. He, like others, had always thought of her as a girl more like Jeannie—full of laughter and lightheartedness—even giddiness. But the events of her life these last weeks had changed her, matured her. He felt hopeful again. Perhaps one day they might get past all of this—not forget Tessa, but heal the gaping wounds her death had brought.
“Sadie?” Lars touched her forearm to gain her attention. “Do you understand this program that Rachel has told you about? I mean, do you grasp the extent of it?”
Sadie nodded, but Lars was still not convinced.
“It’s a two-way street—offenders and victims—both sides must be willing to participate, to honor the process. Even if you decide to make the effort required, it can’t happen unless Jeannie and Geoff agree.”
“And you and Mom and Mattie and Gram and Gramps and probably others I haven’t even imagined,” Sadie said. “Yes. And I also understand that in spite of everything I may still have to… go away for a while.”
Emma pressed her fist to her mouth then turned away, no doubt to hide her emotions from Sadie. Lars moved next to his wife and pulled her close. “All right, call Rachel, and then let’s all sit down together and think this through.” He held up the bill. “But, Sadie, you do understand that even if you worked all day every day for years to come, there is little chance you could ever…”
“But I could make a pledge—a promise that whatever I have, apart of it will go to some cause that best honors Tessa’s memory.”
“She would like that,” Emma said, stroking Sadie’s hair. “We could ask Jeannie what she thinks of that idea.”
Sadie’s hopeful smile lit her features. “You think then that Aunt Jeannie and Uncle Geoff will…?”
“One step at a time,” Lars told her. “Make your call and then go get your brother. It’s time for our evening prayers.”
Chapter 39
Matthew
Okay, so once again it was all about Sadie. Matt’s parents hadn’t even realized that he was right there, in his room with the door open, listening.
He got it that somehow there was this ginormous hospital bill—as Tessa might say. The doctors had charged all that money and still had not been able to save Tessa. What was that about? How could they charge for failing? When Matt failed to do his chores or complete his homework, there were consequences. What were the consequences for the doctors?
There weren’t any, which was, Matt had decided, pretty much the way of things out there in the real world. The world outside Pinecraft where he would be living before too long. He carefully gathered up the coins he’d won playing poker with his new friends and put the money back in its safe place—the box that held his favorite T-shirt on the top shelf of his closet. Oh, his mom as well as Sadie knew that he kept that shirt in that box because it was so special to him. It was the T-shirt that Uncle Geoff had given him the night the team won the conference championship. But no one had ever touched the box. He was sure of that, because he had ways of marking it every time he took it down and put it back, and never had it been disturbed. So he felt it was the safest place to put his winnings.
Of course, in the last couple of games he hadn’t won anything. In fact he’d lost. In the last game he’d lost everything he’d brought with him. He tried to limit himself, but the temptation to play one more hand had been too great, so he’d borrowed from the kid who had first loaned him money to get into the game and played on. But he’d lost, and when he’d said he would bring the money to the next game, the boy had said that he owed something he called “interest”—a percentage on top of the money owed as a kind of penalty. So now he owed that boy a whole dollar, and so far his winnings only totaled four dollars and fifty-three cents.
He’d set a goal for himself of twenty dollars, but in the past couple of days, he’d begun to rethink that sum. Ten should be enough, he’d decided.
“Matt?”
Sadie was standing in the doorway. Matt quickly shoved the box back from the edge of the shelf and turned around. “Yeah?”
“Evening prayers,” she said.
“Coming.” He glanced back at the box. He’d have to mark it later, because Sadie was still standing there.
“Mattie?”
He sighed. “Don’t call me that, okay? I’m fourteen and that’s a kid’s name.”
Sadie smiled and ducked her head to hide it, but Matt saw and it irritated him. “All right, Matt, I just wanted to say that I really appreciate everything you’ve done to help Mom and Dad while I’ve been… away.”
“In jail,” Matt corrected, tired of everybody trying to pretend that Sadie had just stepped out for a while. But the way her face twisted, he felt bad for having said it. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Anyway, I just wanted you to know that.”
Matt picked at an imaginary piece of dirt on his shirt.
“Are you coming, then?” Sadie asked. “For evening prayers?”
Do I have a choice? It was something he’d heard one of the boys he played cards with say, and the others had seemed to like it. But it was not something he could say in this house. It would give him away. No Amish or Mennonite kid would ever be so sarcastic. But these days sometimes the ways of his new friends made a lot more sense than the ways of his family. Like this praying thing. God was not going to listen to the prayers of a nobody like him or, for that matter, to his Dad, who was a good man but not like important or anything.
“Matt, are you coming?” Sadie repeated when he made no move to follow her.
“Okay. Give me a minute, will you?”
Sadie hesitated, started to say something, but decided against it and left the room.
Matt centered the box on the shelf and then scooped up a handful of sand from the container where he kept the fossilized seashells he’d found and sprinkled a little around the perimeter. If anyone but him moved it, the sand would be disturbed and he would know. He had never considered what he would do if that happened, but soon it wouldn’t matter, because he would be gone and so would the contents of the box.
In the living room, his parents were seated in their usual places. Sadie had taken a position on the floor next to their dad. Like everything else about his sister these days, that choice irritated him. So when his mom held out her hand to him, inviting him to sit next to her on the sofa, Matt accepted, curling into the curve of her arm as he had when he was just a little kid. It felt good—normal and safe.
His father opened his Bible and lifted out the purple ribbon bookmark. “Pray with me,” he said, and the four of them bowed their heads. “May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in Thy sight, oh Lord, our strength and our Redeemer. Amen.”
The clock on the shelf near his father’s chair ticked loudly in the silence that followed. A moment in which Matt knew he was supposed to offer a silent prayer of his own or simply reflect on his actions for the day just passed. But all he could think about was that the boys would have gathered already. That he owed money, and the kid had told him that the debt had to be paid in full with interest before the game started or he was adding another day’s interest. They would be waiting for him—one of them impatient to have his money repaid.
He tried to focus on his father’s voice, tried to figure out how long it would be before he could slip away.
“And commanded them that they should take nothing for their journey, save a staff only; no scrip, no bread, no money in their purse.…”
Matt sat up straighter. No money?
Was it possible that he could do this—that he didn’t need the money from the card game? He’d begun to feel really guilty about slipping away every night and trying to cover his tracks by saying he was meeting friends for a game, not exactly lying but certainly not telling his folks everything that was going on.
He still thought leaving was the best plan, but as his father continued to read from the Bible, a new plan began to form. The scripture talked about staying with strangers along the way, and he knew for a fact that in Pinecraft people opened their homes all the time to others just passing through—people they barely knew but took in because of their connection to someone who did know them.
What if he paid off the kid by giving him all of his winnings? That would be a way of seeking forgiveness for having fallen into card playing in the first place. If he no longer had any of the ill-gotten gains, as Olive Crowder sometimes called money like that, then surely that would take care of the guilt he’d been feeling.
His father closed the leather-covered Bible and set it on the table by his chair. Matt closed his eyes for the final prayer.
“Matt?”
He opened his eyes to find his dad looking at him. “Yes sir.” He felt the flush of shame rush to his cheeks. Somehow his father had found out about his card playing and slipping out and his plan to run away. He was sure of it.
“You remember the program that Sadie’s lawyer told us about?”
“Yes sir.”
“Well, tomorrow, Mrs. Kaufmann—Rachel—is going to come here to talk to all of us about how we might put that program into action.”
Matt looked at his mom. “Will Uncle Geoff and Aunt Jeannie be here?”
“Nein. Just us for now.”
“Then what’s the point?” He was so tired of having his hopes raised and then thrown back to the ground again.
“The point is that Rachel’s program may be a way for your sister to…”
Matt stopped listening. It was about Sadie as always. They didn’t care anything about fixing things between him and Uncle Geoff. It was pretty clear to him that even if she was sent off to a real jail, everything going on in this house would always be focused on her.
It was time to move on.
Chapter 40
Jeannie
Geoff was home again. Jeannie heard him moving around downstairs. She’d been so nervous after calling Emma and not hearing anything back from her that she’d busied herself once again searching Tessa’s room for the lost journal. It comforted her to touch Tessa’s things and be in her room, which still held the faint scent of her.
She waited for Geoff to settle somewhere so that she could gauge his mood. If he started fixing himself something to eat, then that would be a good sign. If he went into the den and switched on the television, that would not.
He did neither. Instead she heard him climbing the stairs. Each step he took seemed heavy with the misery that had taken over this once cheerful home they had shared with Tessa. She waited for him to come down the hall to where he could plainly see her standing in Tessa’s room. But he didn’t even look up as he reached the top of the stairs and turned the opposite way into their room. Curious, she followed him.
He was taking down a suitcase from the top shelf in their walk-in closet. The drawers to his dresser were partially opened. “What are you doing?”
He gave a look that implied Sadie’s favorite word, Duh, and turned his attention back to his packing.
Speechless, Jeannie watched as he removed stacks of freshly folded T-shirts, underwear, and socks from the drawers and placed them in the suitcase. He couldn’t be leaving her. Their faith had no room for divorce. No, there had to be some other explanation.
“Geoff? Talk to me. What happened when you went over to Emma’s?”
He swung around and faced her for the first time since she’d entered the room. He laughed, but there was no amusement in the sound. “You mean Emma didn’t call to give you a full report? Or more likely you called there and the two of you commiserated about poor, dear Sadie.”
“Stop this and talk to me,” Jeannie demanded, her voice tight with fury that he was being so rigid. But now his assumption that his way was the only way was wearing on her. How could he even think of deciding that they needed to go through this separately without discussing it? She might agree in the end, but she’d like the opportunity to be heard.
“Geoff, you know that all I want is the same thing you want—for us to find a way through this horror that we did not cause and cannot change.” He looked so haggard and exhausted that her heart went out to him in spite of her anger. “Please, we have to get through this somehow. Wouldn’t it be better if we did it together?”
“I can’t, Jeannie. “He sat down on the edge of the bed so hard that the suitcase and its contents tumbled onto the floor.
Jeannie remained by the doorway until she saw his broad muscular shoulders start to heave as he buried his face in his hands. In an instant, she was beside him, holding him as she had held Tessa whenever she was distraught over something. “We’re going to get through this, Geoff,” she said and realized that the words had become like some kind of Gregorian chant, she had repeated them so many times over these last terrible weeks.
He looked up but not at her. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. “I have to go. It’s the only way I can see that either one of us is going to survive. I love you, Jeannie, but…”
She placed her finger against his lips, shushing him. “No ‘buts’—not where loving each other is concerned.”
But instead of holding out his arms to her as he had in the past whenever they had argued, he stood up and set the suitcase on the one chair in the room and began filling it with the clothing that had spilled onto the floor.
“I have to go,” he said, and now with his back to her, he sounded so certain.
Jeannie rummaged through her brain, searching for the right words she could say to make him stay, but she found nothing. She shut her eyes and silently prayed for God to intervene, to make him see that this was not a solution. But nothing changed, and she had no words.
“I’ll be downstairs,” she said softly, hoping that maybe if she left him alone he would see the folly of this solution.
But a few minutes later, he came downstairs carrying the suitcase and a garment bag.
“Where will you stay?”
He shrugged. “I’ll stay in my office tonight and then start looking for a room tomorrow.” He set down his belongings. “About the bills…”
“They’ve waited this long,” she said. “But Geoff, that’s something to consider. I mean, paying for the house plus a place for you to live makes no sense. If you really think we need some time apart, then let me be the one to go.”
“Go where, Jeannie? To Emma’s?”
“I was thinking about my parents’ house. They have a spare room,” she said quietly.
“That’s a good idea. But I’ll be the one to go home to Mom. After all, this is my idea.”
“You know, this place is big enough that…”
“This place is haunted,” he said, his voice a raspy whisper. He picked up the suitcase and garment bag, filling his hands with things—instead of with her, Jeannie thought. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. “We can work out some arrangement so that you’ll have use of the car during the day while I’m at school.”
“I have Tessa’s bike,” Jeannie reminded him.
They were talking to each other as if this were any normal day when they needed to work out transportation. Why was she being so nice to him? Why wasn’t she ranting at him to come to his senses and see that she loved him and that without him she was completely lost? Why wasn’t she begging him not to go?
Chapter 41
Emma
It was Olive Crowder who brought the news the following morning that Geoff had moved out of the house. “Now Jeannine is all alone in that big place,” Olive said, clucking her tongue in disapproval. And when Emma said nothing, she added imp
atiently, “Well, Emma, what are you going to do about this matter?”
She had made herself at home, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs and plopping herself down while Emma prepared lunch for the meeting with Rachel Kaufmann.
“Jeannie is a grown woman, Olive. She has lost her only child. We need to respect the way that she and Geoff may choose to mourn that child whether or not we approve.”
“Pshaw! Your sister needs you, Emma. She’s not only lost her child. It would seem that she’s lost her husband as well.”
“Don’t even speak of such a thing,” Emma scolded. “Jeannie and Geoff may not be of our particular branch of the faith, but they are Mennonite, and if you are for one minute suggesting that they would even consider—” She could not even bring herself to utter the D word.
Olive did not lift so much as an eyebrow. “Geoffory converted,” she reminded Emma.
“From Catholicism,” Emma reminded her, “where I believe they also believe in the vow of ‘until death do us part.’”
“Don’t lecture me, Emma.” Olive took out an envelope and left it on the table. “I understand that there was quite a substantial hospital bill.”
Emma eyed the envelope. “Geoff won’t accept that,” she said softly. “He thinks of it as charity.”
“Well, of course, it’s charity. Does he not know the meaning of the word?” Olive tapped the envelope. “I am leaving this in your care. I assume that at some point Jeannine and Geoffory will come to their senses and permit those of us who truly care about them to offer what help we can.” She pushed away from the table. “I’m working at the thrift shop today. May I assume that you will not be joining us?”
“No. We have a guest coming for lunch.” Emma hoped that would be enough information to satisfy Olive. She could not help but feel relieved when the older woman walked to the back door.