by Anna Schmidt
“Emma, you should call Jeannine,” she said. “Today.”
She did not wait for Emma’s response. With a sigh, Emma picked up the envelope to put it away in a safe place. It was quite heavy and fat, and in spite of telling herself that whatever amount Olive had given was no business of hers, she gave in to the temptation to count the bills.
Inside the unsealed envelope was five thousand dollars in cash. Emma was so stunned that she counted the money four times before she hurried out to the workshop to tell Lars.
“Olive is a generous woman,” was all that Lars said. He seemed distracted and barely glanced at the envelope.
“But where shall we keep it?” Emma asked.
“Keep it?” He blinked in the sun that was flecked with fine particles of sawdust. “The money was given to Jeannie and Geoff. They will have to decide where best to keep it, Emma.”
“They won’t take it—at least Geoff won’t.”
“Then give it to Jeannie.” He turned back to his work, measuring a board twice before starting the cut.
“Olive says that Geoff has moved out of the house.”
Lars paused in midstroke, but he did not look up. “Do you think that she and Geoff will ever forgive us, Emma?”
She knew what he meant. There was so very much to forgive—certainly they could have taken possession of Sadie’s learner’s permit until such time as they approved. And in spite of her youth, they had taught Sadie better than to give in to the temptation of impressing a young man when she knew her actions were wrong. And perhaps Emma’s greatest failing was the one thing that she had finally confessed to Lars a few days earlier—that she had accused Jeannie of being the cause of all the trouble because she been the one to help Sadie get her permit in the first place.
“I don’t know, but I need to do something about that. I’ll be back in a bit,” Emma said.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to take this to Jeannie—and I’m going to try to apologize.”
“What about our lunch with Rachel?”
“Ask her to wait—better yet, have Sadie make lunch and get started. I’ll join you if I can, but for now…”
She had mounted her bicycle and pedaled off before Lars could stop her or she could reconsider. If Jeannie had been guilty of overstepping when she’d taken Sadie for her permit, then how was that any worse than what Emma had been guilty of since their argument at the bay—keeping her distance, refusing to make the first move toward reconciliation?
She pedaled as fast as she could, and by the time she arrived at Jeannie’s house, she was breathing hard and intent on her mission. She knocked on the kitchen door even as she peered in through the lace curtain that covered the side glass window. “Jeannie?”
Through the window she could see cardboard cartons, some of them taped shut, others spilling over with contents. The kitchen counters, normally cluttered with the small appliances that Jeannie favored—a coffeemaker, bread machine, blender, and such—were bare.
Unnerved, she tried the handle and found the door unlocked. “Jeannie?” she called out as she entered the kitchen and eased around the boxes on her way to the den where she could hear noise.
Jeannie was on a stepstool taking books down from the built-in shelves that lined two walls of the den. Already half the shelves were empty.
“Jeannie, what are you doing?”
Her sister did not look at her as she flipped through the top book on the stack she was holding. “Do you know how many of these we never got around to reading?” she asked. She was dressed in a plain brown cotton skirt that came to her ankles and a shapeless tan top. Her usual crown of flaming red curls had been tamed into a tight little bun under a white starched prayer covering. “Take these, will you?” she asked, handing Emma the stack before turning to gather more books.
“Are you moving?” Emma asked.
“I am cleansing,” Jeannie corrected. “Simplifying. Getting back to basics—and my roots. I am starting over, Emma. It’s really the only way I can see. That and surely all of this stuff will bring enough money so that we can at least make a dent in the bills we owe.”
“You’re going to sell these things?”
“Not just these. I already took a load of my clothes to that consignment shop on Bahia Vista. They only take clothing and maybe a few knickknacks, but there are shops around town that will take all sorts of things—books, cookware, dishes, even furniture.” She came down from the step stool and deposited her armload of books into a box. “Of course it will take time, but it will be a start.”
“What does Geoff say?”
“He doesn’t know.” She said this almost as if it had just occurred to her. “I think he might be pleased. He was always fussing about how much stuff we had.”
“When did you decide…?”
Her smile was like a beam of sunlight—brilliant and warm. “After Geoff left last night, I was determined to find the journal that we gave Tessa the night of the picnic, but then once I started, it felt as if she was here helping me, encouraging me. It was the most incredible feeling, Emma.”
“Did you find the journal?”
“Not yet.” Jeannie frowned. “I can’t imagine where it might be. I’ve been through everything in her room several times.”
“It’s got to be here,” Emma said.
Jeannie shrugged. “How about some iced tea?”
“That would be nice.” She followed her sister into the kitchen and saw that when Jeannie opened the cabinet where before there had been at least three sets of glasses, there was now only one set of six glasses. While Jeannie took out the pitcher of tea from the refrigerator, Emma moved two boxes from kitchen chairs and sat down. She was still holding the envelope from Olive.
She waited until Jeannie sat down then slid the envelope across the table to her. “Olive stopped by. She asked me to bring you this.”
Jeannie fingered the envelope with a half smile. “I’ll put it with the rest,” she said.
“The rest?”
“Never try to talk a bunch of Mennonites out of wanting to do their part. Charity or not, all morning the money has shown up in a variety of ways—slipped under the door, left in the mailbox, given to Mama.” She shrugged.
“And how’s Geoff taking that?”
Jeannie stared off into space. “I doubt he knows. Geoff is… a little lost right now, but in time…”
They each took a drink of their tea then drew patterns in the condensation on the sides of their glasses as they had done as kids.
“I came to ask you to forgive me,” Emma said softly.
Jeannie looked up, startled, and then she started to laugh. “Forgive you? Oh Emma, that’s too much. I’m the one. Why do you think I’ve been so all-consumed with this?” She waved her hand around the kitchen. “After Geoff walked out last night, the one person I wanted most to talk to was you, but I was so afraid that…”
“We’re grown women, so why do we continue to dance around each other as we did when we were young girls?” Emma mused, taking Jeannie’s hand between both of hers. “Wasting time when we of all people should realize how very precious every day, every hour, must be.”
“I’m so very sorry, Em.”
“Oh Jeannie, if you only knew how I have prayed for some way for us to find our way back to each other. I need you so much right now.”
Jeannie seemed surprised. “You need me? But, Emmie, you’re the strong one. I never was the one—”
Emma couldn’t hold back her tears a minute longer. “I don’t know how to talk about this with you.” She lifted her shoulders and let them drop in utter defeat. “The truth is, I don’t know what to say to anyone these days—Lars, Sadie, Matt—but especially to you, Jeannie.”
Jeannie pulled her chair closer and placed the flat of her hand on Emma’s back. “Talk to me.”
“How can I? You have lost a child, your only child. While I still have both of mine—at least for the moment. Yes, it’s true that
Sadie may yet be sent away, and Matt…”
“What about Matt?”
Emma shook her head. “I don’t know. Outwardly everything seems all right. I mean, it’s understandable that he’s a little lost right now with all the attention we’re having to focus on Sadie. His grades are fine, but his teacher is worried about subtle changes in his attitude at school. And I have to say that my mother’s instinct tells me there’s something terribly wrong. I don’t know how to talk to him about it, and every time I try, I just have this feeling that I’m only making things worse.”
“What if I ask Geoff to talk to him? You know how he’s always looked up to Geoff.”
“Matt tried going to Geoff to tell him about Rachel Kaufmann’s program, but Geoff sent him away. Matt was heartbroken, and yet I understand why Geoff acted as he did.”
“Now you just stop that, Emma. We are family, and just because this horror has happened within our circle, that does not mean that we abandon each other.” Jeannie got up and began to pace—a pattern Emma recognized as a sure sign that she was concocting some plan to solve everything. Under normal circumstances Emma might have been alarmed, but oddly the idea that Jeannie might come up with some solution—no matter how far-fetched—was comforting.
Suddenly Jeannie turned to her with a smile. “Got it,” she said.
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Emma said, but she risked a smile as well.
“We need to prioritize—first we need to do whatever we can to help Sadie’s cause with the judge. Surely if the judge heard about this victim offender reconciliation contract, he might go easier on her.”
Emma glanced up to where there had once hung an elaborate kitchen clock, but it was gone. “Rachel’s probably at the house now. We were going to have lunch and then talk about the program. We thought at least we could work out something with Sadie, even if you and Geoff—”
“Excellent way to start,” Jeannie said as she carried their glasses to the sink and then picked up her house key. “Let’s go.”
“You would…? I mean, I thought that because Geoff…”
Jeannie glanced around. “I really don’t see Geoff here, Emma, so I would say that it’s time for me to make the decisions that seem right to me.”
Emma frowned as she followed Jeannie outside. “You can’t just give up on your marriage, Jeannie.”
“Who said anything about giving up? I spent most of last night praying on this, and God seems to be leading me in certain ways.” She held out her plain skirt and curtsied. “Got the clothing down,” she said, “and I was up most of the night slowly but surely ridding our lives of superfluous stuff.” She made the sign of checking something off a list. “Next, we need to get Sadie in the best position possible for her next court appearance, so come on, and let’s pray that Rachel Kaufmann has the right plan for accomplishing that.”
Chapter 42
Matthew
Unlike his parents and Sadie, Rachel Kaufmann actually seemed to be aware that Matt was in the room. A couple of times she had turned to him and asked him for his ideas or opinion as if it mattered. Not that her noticing him was in anyway going to change his plan to run away. After all, he didn’t live with Rachel and her son. He lived with his folks and Sadie. But maybe down the road if he needed a place to stay…
“Matt? When I spoke with your folks last night, I suggested that everyone write something that Sadie could read today about how that person felt her actions brought them harm and pain. I wonder if you might want to start?”
He had actually been so wrapped up in figuring out how he was going to come up with enough money to repay his gambling debt and still get out of here that he’d forgotten all about the assignment his dad had mentioned after they finished evening prayers. “No ma’am. I mean, I didn’t write anything.”
“All right, would you be comfortable just telling her now?”
Matt glanced at Sadie. She had that wide-eyed look that she got when she wanted to impress their folks that she was paying close attention. He was not fooled. “How do I know she’ll really listen?”
“I’ll listen, Matt, and I’m right here. You can say anything that’s bothering you.”
Matt swallowed a smile. Sadie sounded more like her old self—a little annoyed with him.
“Your parents have chosen to write down their feelings, Matt,” Rachel told him. “But there’s no one right choice here. Whatever feels most comfortable.”
“You can think it over, son,” his dad said.
“I’m ready now.” And he realized that he was. He realized that he had been ready to tell Sadie how her stupidity had changed his life for some time now. He saw Rachel exchange a look with his parents. His mom looked worried—no surprise. His dad nodded.
“Okay, Matt,” Rachel said. “Talk to Sadie.”
“And then I get to leave?”
“Well, not exactly. Talking or writing out how Sadie’s actions affected you is the first step of a process.”
“Then what?”
“Once Sadie hears from those she harmed, then we start the part where we come up with a contract of reconciliation—specific things that Sadie needs to do in order to gain forgiveness—your forgiveness.”
Matt sighed and leaned back in his chair. It seemed to him that there was no way this could end anytime soon—not just the VORP thing. The whole thing. He had never been more certain that his plan to leave and get on with his life was a really good idea.
“So, if you still want to say how you feel…”
Matt looked over at Sadie on the edge of her chair. Now her eyes were wary. She was nervous. Matt felt a sense of power like he’d never known before. It was both exciting and a little scary. He had the power to make his sister suffer the way he had had to suffer through all these weeks. He glanced toward the window and then back at Sadie.
She was his sister. The older sister who had read to him when he was just a little kid. The sister who had played games with him—and let him win. The sister who had confided in him, trusted him with her hopes and dreams for a future that they both knew their parents would not approve.
He drew in a breath and said, “It’s been hard, Sadie.”
She nodded.
“At school everybody looks at me different. My friends whisper about you when they think I’m not listening. A few kids have teased me about my sister being in jail.”
“What else, Matt?” Rachel said softly.
“Mom and Dad are sad and worried all the time. They don’t know how to make this go away and that scares me. People in the store or that we pass on the street don’t look at us the same way. Nobody smiles.”
“What’s the worst thing, Matt?” Rachel coached.
Matt glanced toward his aunt and then bowed his head. “Uncle Geoff believed in me—in what I might be one day. I could talk to him about anything, and everybody knew that. You knew that. But you cared more about your stupid boyfriend than you did any of us. You chose him.”
“I didn’t—” Sadie protested.
“Let him finish,” Rachel said.
Matt stood up, shaking his head from side to side. He wheeled around to face his parents. “You always told us that we have choices and that if it’s a hard choice, we need to pray for God’s help. Why didn’t you pray that morning, Sadie? You knew it was wrong to drive with Dan.”
Sadie swiped at a couple of tears falling onto the backs of her fisted hands. “Do you hate me now, Mattie?” she whispered.
He didn’t know how to answer that. On the one hand, he was already regretting what he’d said to her. She had hurt him, but that didn’t mean that he had to hurt her back.
Turn the other cheek.
Instead of answering, he looked at Rachel, “That’s it. That’s all I have to say.”
“What about Geoff?” Jeannie asked softly.
Matt looked directly at Sadie instead of his aunt when he answered, “He basically hates me now, and it’s all because of you.”
Chapter 43
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br /> Jeannie
Jeannie had to hand it to Sadie—she took the blows that Matt hurled at her without flinching. She never once tried to make excuses for her behavior. And she never once tried to make any of them feel sorry for her by pleading her case. Her niece had grown up a lot in these last several weeks.
In the end, the five of them came up with a plan that Sadie could reasonably fulfill and still one that would remind her almost daily of the ripple effect of her actions. Sadie herself had started things off with two suggestions.
“I could take a job at one of the restaurants or gift shops and give all of my earnings to Aunt Jeannie and Uncle Geoff.”
“We don’t need your money, Sadie.”
Sadie thought a long moment while everyone else in the room glanced around nervously. “Then it can go to a fund to pay the court costs the judge mentioned. And what if I visit Tessa’s grave every week and make sure that there are flowers and no weeds and such?”
Emma glanced at Jeannie.
“We could go there together,” Jeannie said softly. “Tessa would like that.”
“Thank you,” Sadie whispered. She bowed her head to hide the sobs she could no longer hold at bay.
Rachel gave Sadie a moment to compose herself and then kept prodding. “What else?”
“What if Sadie had to do all my chores as well as hers?” Matt suggested.
“And how would you then practice responsibility?” Lars asked his son, but Jeannie could see that there was a hint of amusement in the way he asked the question.
“Just a thought,” Matt grumbled and folded his arms tightly across his chest.
Emma was right, Jeannie thought. Matt was not himself. He’d always been such a cheerful boy, always concerned for others, always eager to help. In the past, that exchange with Lars would have ended with a sheepish smile from Matt and possibly a murmured, “Worth a shot.” But now he had the sullen stare of the teenagers she had often seen when she attended functions at the school with Geoff. Young people making it perfectly clear that they would rather be anywhere but with their parents and teachers. Tessa had never been one of them. Nor had Sadie, and certainly Matt had never been that way—until now.