She closed her eyes and pondered a line from the Lord’s Prayer. Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. Indeed, Lettie had much to be forgiven for.
Creeping down the long staircase, she was careful to grip the handrail. She’d slipped before – slipped and fallen – on steps this steep back in Kidron while she and Mamm were helping her father’s ailing aunt, when she was expecting her first baby. When my pregnancy was supposedly a secret. But her great-aunt, ill and elderly as she was, had put it together when Mamm insisted Lettie rest on the sofa, urging her to get off her feet “right quick.” Mamm had been worried – even seemingly convinced – that Lettie would miscarry after her fall.
The secret... ended by a mere accident. Even Mamm had not wished for that. Sighing, Lettie dismissed the melancholy musings. She was plagued enough by nighttime worries without allowing such thoughts during the day.
Downstairs, she made her way through the kitchen and found Hallie in the front room, sitting near the widest window, embroidering a pillowcase, her reading glasses perched halfway down the bridge of her nose. A rose-shaped design was centered perfectly in the embroidery hoop.
“May I borrow your phone book?” Lettie asked.
Hallie looked up, her cheeks bright with peachy red spots. She wore a wine-colored dress and matching half apron, and a cup-shaped white Kapp with pleats that covered her tightly bound hair bun. “Not sure I’ve got one.”
Lettie had seen one under the table near the front room sofa, though why on earth her cousin owned it, Lettie hadn’t any idea. “Actually, you do. See? Right there,” she said, nodding at the small table.
Hallie looked surprised. “Well, it’s prob’ly so out of date.”
“That’s all right.” Lettie went to lift it out of its hiding spot. Needing to see with her own eyes that Dr. Joshua Hackman did indeed practice medicine in Nappanee, she opened to the H’ s and ran her pointer finger down the page. Hackenberg... Hackett... Hackford...
“What do ya want with it?” Hallie asked, her head tilted inquisitively like a puppy’s.
“Oh, just looking up someone I once knew,” Lettie said absently.
Hallie whispered to herself as she sat there. Was she counting stitches?
There it is! Lettie was greatly relieved to see Dr. Hackman’s office was in fact located nearby. This should be easy. She yearned for this to work out... just as she’d dreamed all these years. I’ve come this far.
“Hallie, where might I find a telephone in the neighborhood?” She felt strange asking.
“Eddie and Lana, our neighbors up the hill, have one.” Hallie peered over her glasses. “They don’t seem to mind folks traipsing in and out.”
“You sure?”
Hallie laughed a little. “Would I lead you astray, Lettie? We’ve known each other since childhood.” Hallie’s father and two first cousins and their families had all pulled up roots from Lancaster County to relocate here in Nappanee when Hallie was only eleven, pleased at the prospect of more available land. Yet even after she’d gone, Hallie had remained faithful in her letters through the years, sharing even her disappointing experiences with Lettie.
Lettie glanced out the window. “Where’s your neighbor’s house?”
“Not so far, just over yonder.” Hallie waved toward the east. “Some of our young girls sneak up there and practice their typing skills on Lana’s computer. Strange that they’d want to dabble in the world like that.”
“Not so strange, really. Don’t ya remember your own Rumschpringe ?” Lettie cringed. Oh, but she wished she hadn’t brought that up. Far as she knew, Hallie had been much more chaste than Lettie during her running-around years.
“Things can get out of hand fast when you’ve got Amish girls pokin’ round the Web, as they call it,” Hallie said.
“Hopefully it’s just a passing fancy for most. What’s worse is when young Plain women get educated up through high school and beyond. Why, I heard of one even wanting a job as an assistant to a lawyer.”
“A paralegal?”
“Not sure I know what that is,” Lettie admitted.
“Just what you said – an assistant to a lawyer” came Hallie’s swift reply.
Lettie looked at her cousin. Innocent as she was, it was clear Hallie was no longer a spring chicken.
Hallie continued. “That sort of thing does annoy me.” She sighed sadly and wrung her hands. “That, and hearin’ one of my own granddaughters complain about the Old Ways.”
“ This is a surprise. Which granddaughter?”
“Rachel’s Linda. If you stay round long enough tomorrow, you’ll see her. She’s comin’ over for a cooking lesson in the morning.”
Lettie hadn’t seen little Linda in years. “That should be fun.”
“You think so? Well, let me tell ya, it’s like ropin’ a young calf for the first time. Seems Linda likes to put up a fuss whenever her Mamma tries to work with her.” Hallie looked tuckered out at the very idea. “This one doesn’t know yet how to make a piecrust from scratch.”
“Well, is there any other way?”
Hallie grimaced. “Linda keeps insisting she needs a recipe. ‘How can I make it if it’s not written down somewhere?’ Linda’s always sayin’.”
Lettie listened, amused.
“Rachel said Linda once wanted to know how much water to add to the dough, as if there’s a certain amount that always works.”
“What’d Rachel tell her?”
“She said to add water till it felt right.” Hallie shook her head. “Goodness, but the poor thing complained up and down, ‘Well, how am I s’posed to know what it should feel like when I’ve never made it before?’ And ya know what? Linda’s got a point.”
Lettie could no longer squelch her smile.
“Finally, Rachel said right out, ‘Linda Ann, if ya throw it up to the ceiling and it sticks, you’ve added too much water!’ And that was that.”
Now both Hallie and Lettie were nearly bent over, laughing. “Sounds like something my own mother said to all us girls when we were growin’ up.”
“Why, sure. It makes plenty gut sense, doesn’t it?”
They were nodding and joking about this so much that Lettie forgot to write down the phone number for Dr. Hackman. “Well, for goodness’ sake,” she muttered, realizing it only after she’d closed the phone book.
“What’s wrong?” Hallie asked.
“Just forgot the phone number, is all.”
Hallie fell silent. And Lettie decided yet again that it was truly best not to involve her cousin in her highly unusual mission.
six
D ad, you joker , thought Heather after he sent a text reminding her of the lodge program next week. I won’t forget! She smiled as she walked past yet another farmhouse that afternoon. The road was winding – and earlier, poor, anxious Grace had been forced to keep a sharp eye out for every mailbox on their drive to Susan Kempf’s. And now to discover her mom’s missing... again. Heather felt terribly sorry for her.
“Something’s really messed up about this,” she whispered, leaning her head back so the sun could shine full on her face. She really wanted to meet Grace’s mom, this woman who flitted so easily in and out of lives. Lettie Byler’s behavior perturbed her, especially now, when it appeared she’d slipped away as if she’d been tipped off about Grace’s coming.
Heather’s mom would never have done something that odd. But now, her father was a different story. He had certainly seemed impulsive lately in his decision to buy land in the heart of horse-and-buggy country, then construct a modern farmhouse on it. Yet other than this surprising turn of events, the only other impulsive act he – and Mom – had ever committed was adopting her. At least it seemed spontaneous to her, based on Dad’s recent account of how she had come to be theirs.
She couldn’t forget how he looked when he’d told her, just days ago. It was still hard to accept that she had an Amish mother somewhere. Here in Ohio, perhaps? Well, not a mother per se, but someone who’d
given her life. Her father had looked almost vulnerable as he revealed the story – she’d missed his tender side since Mom passed away. Her lifelong impression of who she was before his startling news – and the way she viewed herself now – were all mixed up in her mind, crisscrossed like a pattern on one of Marian Riehl’s quilts.
Her thoughts flew back to Grace, and she wondered how her friend was getting along with Susan. Had Grace ever been this far from home before? Heather seriously doubted it. As for herself, this trip would be her last for a while.
She sighed. When she attempted to view her life through the prism of the future, she hoped for an opportunity to live many more years. Besides, as Mom had said just weeks before she died, it wasn’t only about living: It was about loving. “And loving well.”
How could a girl forget something like that? And to think it had been Mom’s desire to see the Lancaster naturopath Dr. LaVyrle Marshall and enroll in her Wellness Lodge – a desire her mom never got to fulfill. In a very real way, Mom was responsible for Heather’s own present path. And so is God, her mother might add if she were still alive.
Heather breathed in the rich scents of late spring. There were other memorable things Mom had said in her final weeks. “You’ve got the solitude thing down, honey. Learn to gain strength from others.”
“So... does what I’m doing here now qualify?” Heather was so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realize someone was calling to her.
“Hullo” came a Dutchy-sounding voice again.
Looking up, she saw an Amishwoman dressed in a calf-length maroon dress with a black half apron, swinging a wicker basket by its handle. For a fleeting moment, it almost seemed as if the woman recognized Heather. Either that or she was just ultra-friendly, like most of the Amish folks Heather had met.
“Hey there,” Heather replied. “Nice day.”
“It certainly is,” the cheerful woman said, glancing at Heather’s jeans and shirt. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”
Well, she was... and she wasn’t. “I’m here with a friend who’s visiting Susan Kempf.” Heather pointed in the direction of her house.
“Ah, such a good neighbor, Susan. We’ve put up plenty of canned goods over the years – quilted some together, too.” The woman looked down at her basket. “I’ve got quilting squares in here right now, just itchin’ for stitchin’.”
Heather laughed softly. “Did you make that up?”
“Well, now, I guess I did!”
Heather introduced herself. “I’m Heather.”
“Awful nice to meet you. I’m Minnie Keim.”
“Minnie,” repeated Heather. “What a cute name.”
“My friends say it suits me.”
“Is it short for something?”
Minnie chuckled. “No, just plain Minnie.” Minnie waved then, seemingly restless. “Well, have yourself a wonderful- gut visit with Susan. Oh, and don’t say I didn’t warn ya – she likes to cook and bake. Wants her guests to eat up right hearty, ya know.”
“I could use a few extra pounds,” Heather replied, although she had no intention of eating fattening foods. For her, it was fresh and raw all the way... at least until her blood tests indicated she was cancer-free. Like Sally Smucker... if all goes well.
Heather shifted her weight from one foot to the other. And if I survive the lodge experience.
Lettie gripped the telephone at Hallie’s neighbors’. “May I please speak to Dr. Hackman?”
“The doctor is with a patient,” replied the woman on the other end. “May I be of help?”
“I have a few questions, but I’d like to talk to him directly. Sometime today?”
“The schedule is filled, miss. I’d suggest making an appointment for a consultation.”
She inhaled deeply. When will I have the nerve to use this telephone again? “Would it be possible for you to check on something for me, maybe?”
“I’m the receptionist, so... that’s not possible. I’m very sorry.”
Lettie pressed on. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” She took a breath. “What if I told you it was something mighty important... about a baby? A baby girl I gave up for adoption years ago.”
“You’ll have to discuss that with Dr. Hackman.”
“Well, I’m only in town a very short time....” It wasn’t like her to argue. But, oh, Lettie could almost reach out and grasp the information she yearned for, she was so close to finding out what she’d come for.
“What is your name, please?” the receptionist asked.
“Lettie Byler.”
“I’ll see if we can find a time for an appointment. Please hold.”
There was a lengthy silence, then soft music in her ear. O Lord, please guide me, Lettie prayed. May all this come together peacefully... according to your will.
While she waited she recalled her firstborn son’s birth. Oh, the indescribable joy she’d felt looking into Adam’s tiny, round face. She could’ve stared forever into those milky blue eyes. And then three more children had come along – hers and Judah’s. She’d experienced the same delight when first holding each of them, welcoming sweet Grace and, later, darling Mandy, then pudgy little Joe into the world.
“Mrs. Byler?” the receptionist said as she came back on the line. “We can squeeze you in tomorrow morning at nine-thirty.”
“I’ll take it,” Lettie agreed. “Denki ever so much.” She hung up the phone and turned to also thank Lana, Hallie’s English neighbor, who sat on the sofa with her small portable computer balanced on her lap. “I appreciate the use of your telephone.”
“Oh, that’s fine. You know where we are,” Lana said, glancing up at her, then quickly back at the screen.
Lettie’s thoughts raced ahead to the consultation tomorrow. “All right, then.” She headed to the screen door, careful not to let it slap against the frame. Yet as she strolled back to Hallie’s, she was uncomfortably aware that Lana had been sitting near enough to overhear her side of the frustrating conversation. Ach, I hope not.
Lettie followed the narrow path and saw a cardinal’s red colors flutter past her. She hoped this trip wouldn’t turn out to be a dead end. She was emotionally spent and more than sorry for what she’d done to her family – nearly too ashamed to return home, although she longed to. Truly, she had no idea how to go about returning. Judah was a meek and mild-mannered man, but she wasn’t so grossfiehlich – bigheaded – as to think she could simply walk back into his life, and their children’s. Not after her unexplained absence.
There was another matter, too. The ministerial brethren would undoubtedly ask for Lettie’s repentance... which would likely have to be offered before the church membership. Oh, dear Judah would have to endure her confession, as would Adam and Grace and Mandy, since they’d already joined church. No, it would not be easy returning to Bird-in-Hand.
seven
Grace sat at Susan’s table with her eyes closed, waiting for the hospitable woman to finish making her strawberry slush. “It’s sure to perk you up,” Susan said cheerfully from across the kitchen.
While she waited for Heather to return, Grace had managed to use the remote control on the key chain Heather had left behind on the front room table. She’d carried Heather’s bags, and her own, in from the trunk and upstairs to each of two guest bedrooms. It seemed so strange, as she thought of it, that Mamma had sat at this very table... and most likely slept in the bed where Grace would sleep tonight. And the more she considered her mother’s speedy departure yesterday, the more she suspected there must have been a reason to hurry up and leave. Like she rushed off in the wee hours from home.
She raised her head to see Susan bringing small glasses of the icy fruit slush to the table. “Mmm, looks delicious.”
“Oh, you’ll enjoy this.” Susan set the glass before Grace, then pulled out a chair to the right of the head of the table. She glanced at the empty spot and mentioned how her deceased husband had always sat there. “I decided to keep it empty in
his honor after he died.”
Grace thought this was one of the sweetest things she’d ever heard. “Did ya tell Mamma this?”
Susan smiled and reached for her own glass. “Oh jah. I’ll say your Mamma’s quite tenderhearted.”
“That she is.” Grace sipped the strawberry slush. “Your berries must be early this year.”
“They’re nearly done, in fact.”
“Ours back home aren’t quite ready yet,” she said, wondering where on earth Heather had disappeared to.
The simple kitchen was light and cheerful, reminding Grace of home in so many ways. The yellowed pine cabinets stood in a neat row above the scarred and worn counter below. Several pies were set out, cooling on the rack, their crusts crimped down evenly around the edges.
“Was Mamma sad while she was here?” Grace asked quietly.
“Mostly apprehensive, I’d say.”
Grace bowed her head. “I thought she might’ve been sad, too... missing her family and all.”
Susan reached across the table and touched her hand. “Oh, she did miss all of you... each and ev’ry one.”
How Grace wanted to repeat her earlier question, to know why Mamma had left the family who loved her to come here. But Susan seemed lost in thought. Grace fell silent yet again, beginning to worry about Heather’s absence.
As a girl, Lettie hadn’t wanted to play or talk to anyone after Cousin Hallie and her family left for Indiana. She’d talked if she had to, of course, to her sisters and to Mamm. But it was Hallie who’d always been her closest friend, at least till Naomi had married and the two of them became equally close. The winters had been excruciatingly long those first few years without Hallie. Lettie had missed embroidering and sewing and baking with her dearest cousin. There were times when she would think how nice it would be to go and visit her clear out in Nappanee. Even then I must’ve been a wanderer at heart, she thought as she made her way down the long hill from Lana’s house.
The Telling Page 4