The Telling

by Beverly Lewis

  “Is this Heather?” a man asked.

  “Who’s this?”

  “Wannalive... Jim, remember?”

  She smiled. How cool was this? “Of course I do. Hi, Jim!”

  His voice was pleasantly mellow and deep as he asked how she was doing, sounding glad and relieved when she told him the positives that indicated progress. They talked about the day – what the weather was like in Virginia, where he lived – a tidbit she hadn’t known before. And what she was experiencing there in “Amish country.” He chuckled easily.

  She embraced the sound and felt comfortable telling him about this wonderful lodge... and its location.

  “Hey, I’m only a few hours away.”

  Her heart flipped. What was he saying? She waited, not daring to jump to conclusions.

  “When will you be dismissed?” he asked.

  “Wednesday after lunch.”

  “Mind if I drive up?”

  “Well, I’ll be heading home on Sunday,” she told him. “A change of plans.” She mentioned she would be staying with a local family until then.

  “I have the day off on Wednesday, and I’d really like to see you, Heather.”

  He was persistent, that was certain.

  “All right, sounds good,” she said. “Thanks, Jim.”

  He said he’d MapQuest the location, so not to bother with directions. He seemed reluctant to say good-bye. The warmth in his voice was contagious.

  When they’d hung up, she looked at his last name and phone number again. “Jim Lang,” she murmured as she headed back to the lodge for the late-morning class. Knowing his full name – and the sound of his voice – made him seem that much more real. Never would Heather have thought she’d connect with a guy she’d met online, or that she’d allow their friendship to progress this far.

  thirty-three

  While Heather was saying good-bye to Arielle and LaVyrle and other lodge staff members the following Wednesday, there was a knock at the front door. She had just jotted down an email address from one of the other patients when she looked across the foyer and saw a tall, auburn-haired man standing on the other side of the screen door.

  Curious, she excused herself and went to the door. She caught the pleasing scent of his cologne. “Are you Jim?”

  “I am.” There was a flicker of recognition in his warm green eyes. “You must be Heather.”

  She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. “Nice to meet you, Jim.”

  “It’s great to put a face to an online presence.” He reached to shake her hand. “Do you have time for a walk?”

  “Sure,” she said, then wanted to kick herself for the almost too-casual reply. After all, Jim had driven five hours one way to meet her. She followed him down the wide steps and over the rolling lawn, toward the formal gardens.

  He remarked about the tranquil landscape surrounding the lodge, comparing it to the midwest location where he’d had his cleanse. She felt a little nervous at actually being with him, yet she quickly became engrossed in their conversation. He seems so normal – not at all saintly, she thought as they turned toward Mill Creek. And very good-looking.

  “I wanted to tell you my news in person,” he said as they walked beneath the willows.

  Her heart stilled.

  “My latest blood tests came back normal – I’ve been given a clean bill of health.” He was grinning now. “I’ve waited a long time for this news.”

  “How wonderful, Jim. I’m so happy for you!”

  “I hoped it might encourage you to follow through with a mostly raw food diet... now that you’re leaving here.”

  She assured him that she would need some help with that. “I’ve been invited to stay for a few days with an Amish preacher’s wife who nearly lost her life to cancer, before coming to the lodge. She changed her diet radically, and she’s stuck with it.” Heather looked back at the grand old house. “Sally’s offered to help me stay on track with an 80/20 raw-to-cooked-food ratio. That should get me into a routine before I head home.”

  “Sounds terrific.”

  “Dr. Marshall recommends doing a juice cleanse two weeks per month for aggressive cancers. I’ll know better where things stand for me when I have another blood draw at my oncologist’s in Virginia.”

  He seemed to perk up at the mention of Virginia. “Where’s home for you?” he asked.

  “Outskirts of Williamsburg. How about you?”

  “Within walking distance of the College of William and Mary,” he said.

  “Are you serious? I did my graduate work there – American Studies.”

  “Really?” He chuckled. “I considered going there but wound up at MIT for my undergraduate degree in architecture. It proved to be an incredible choice. They have the oldest department of architecture in the country.”

  We both chose older schools, she thought, amazed that he lived practically in the same neighborhood as her alma mater.

  She asked if he’d ever gone to Busch Gardens, and he said he’d worked there several summers in a row during high school and college. “I also did short stints during spring break.”

  “So maybe we’ve met before....”

  “You know, when you first came to the door, I thought I’d seen you somewhere. Did you go to Busch Gardens a lot?”

  “Actually, my dad still has a season pass – we go all the time.” She didn’t say that she and her one-time fiancé had also gone there together.

  “Small world, eh?”

  “It is.” She smiled back at him. “I just can’t get over the great news about your blood work, Jim.”

  “I’ve been waiting to post it on my blog until I could see you in person,” he admitted.

  “I haven’t read the last couple of entries. I’ll have to catch up as soon as I get settled in at Sally’s.” Then she realized what she’d said and couldn’t help laughing.

  “What’s funny?” He touched her arm lightly.

  “Oh, just thinking.” She was, after all, catching up with him in person , wasn’t she? And they related so well to each other in the here and now. Not only online.

  They walked in silence for a time, enjoying the breeze. He pointed out a few birds perched on the rocks in the creek below, preening their feathers. Then he glanced at her, smiling thoughtfully. “I knew you’d be this pretty, Heather. From the way you expressed yourself... I knew.”

  “Thanks.” Her face felt warm, but she wouldn’t let herself be fooled. And while Jim was probably the most attractive – and most affirming – guy she’d ever encountered, she was already shielding her heart.

  “Would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asked as they turned toward the road.

  “Um... can I get back to you on that?” Immediately she felt horrible. What did I just do? He drove all this way for just a short walk?

  They parted soon after, with Jim asking if they could keep in touch. She agreed before watching him drive out of the lane and onto the road. He waved and gave her a big smile – anyone observing would have thought she’d said yes to seeing him again.

  Will I lie awake tonight regretting my response? The answer entwined itself with her heart. Sighing, Heather turned and walked slowly back toward the lodge, having a listen here, Heather, heart-to-heart talk with herself. She wondered when and where the pattern of rejection she was so comfortable dishing out had begun. Something was, and always had been, eating away at her. All of my life!

  Heather had to address it – deal with the elephant in the room. She needed closure, one way or another. Had her adoption somehow played a role in her pattern of making friends and rejecting them? If so, maybe finding her birth parents would make some sense of this... even put an end to it.

  Heather’s dad was sitting on the porch talking with LaVyrle when Heather returned. “New guy?” Dad wore a quizzical look.

  She shrugged. “A friend.”

  LaVyrle squeezed her lips together, repressing a smile. She glanced at Heather. “You and your dad are always
welcome to visit here. I’m also available for follow-ups and counsel, too. Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks so much... for everything.” Heather let her eyes sweep the beauty of the landscape before looking again at LaVyrle. “We’ll definitely be in touch.”

  Later, with her dad’s help, she loaded the car and bid another round of farewells to the naturopath and her terrific staff. Each patient had been given a large container of chopped raw veggies for the afternoon, as some were traveling long distances by air or car. Heather was thankful she had only a short drive to Sally’s, though she wanted to stop to see Grace en route.

  “I’ll be over at the house site most of the rest of this week, but I’ll drop by the Smuckers’ a couple of times,” Dad said, giving her a bear hug.

  “I love you, Dad,” she whispered.

  His eyes were bright as they parted. “What you’ve gone through here, kiddo... I hope and pray it works.”

  “Me too.”

  He walked with her down to the car, then followed alongside the vehicle until she waved one last time. “The new house is going to be great,” she called over her shoulder through the open window.

  He popped a thumb up, smiling now. “See you, kiddo!”

  Heather waved and smiled in return, delighted her father looked so happy.

  At the Bylers’, Heather enjoyed seeing Willow and also meeting Adam and Joe, who took time from their work to show off the youngest lambs of the season, now a few days old.

  “They’re adorable.” Heather touched the fluffy fleece.

  “You wouldn’t think that if you could see beneath all that wool,” Joe said, explaining how a good shepherd monitors the condition of the skin.

  “So they’re vulnerable to disease or wounds under there?” she asked.

  “Oh, constantly,” Adam put in. He ran his strong hand through the fleece to demonstrate how they checked the skin, wool, and body.

  She thanked Grace’s brothers, who were dressed identically in black work pants and short-sleeved green shirts with tan suspenders. Their long bangs were cut straight across, nearly touching their eyebrows. Even their straw hats matched. She found it remarkable that they were so polite to a total stranger.

  After a tour of the mule and horse stable, Grace again took Heather to her beloved garden to point out the cleansing herbs. “I planted one similar to this for an Englischer yesterday,” Grace said. She pointed out the blue blossoms of the gentian, also known as bitterroot, as well as the senna herb, then showed Heather the white-flowering chickweed. “Some folk mistake this for a weed, but it’s delicious in salads – tastes like spinach – and is gut for whatever might ail a person.” She explained it was a natural diuretic and laxative. “But no doubt Dr. Marshall’s taught you some about the value of herbs,” she said, suddenly seeming a little wistful. “Ah, Heather... I wish you could stay longer than just till Sunday. You could help me tend my herb garden.”

  “Sounds like fun, but I really need to buckle down and finish my thesis, and Dad needs some help getting the house ready to sell back home.”

  “Where will you live after the house is sold... and your dad moves into his new place?” Grace looked concerned.

  “Not sure yet – I must get busy submitting my resumé. Once I land a job, I’ll lease a condo or something small. But I’ll visit Dad here, too.”

  “What ’bout workin’ at the Wellness Lodge?” Grace smiled mischievously. “Just maybe?”

  “You know, I hadn’t given that any thought – but I certainly like the people there.” Now that Grace had mentioned it, the idea seemed quite appealing.

  “Well, anyway, we have a few more days before you must go, jah?”

  Heather assured her they’d see each other again before her trip home. Grace said good-bye and headed toward the stable while Heather made her way back to the car. As she opened the driver’s-side door, she spotted Adah Esh coming out of her side of the large farmhouse, waving.

  “Do ya have time for a cup of tea?” Adah called, but Heather declined, saying she was very tired. Yet she was surprised at Adah’s invitation.

  “I’ll see you in two days – at the jam session,” she said, laughing at her own joke. “Rain check?”

  “Des gut . You get some rest, dear. I’ll look forward to Friday.” Adah nodded, and although she smiled pleasantly, Heather could not mistake the disappointment in the elderly woman’s tone.

  Anxious to get settled in at Sally’s, she backed up to the road. Grace waved to her, standing near the stable now with beautiful Willow, sporting a big smile. Her free arm was draped around the mare’s neck. A real live country girl!

  The day was balmy, and Heather was keenly aware of the high dew point. She wished she’d put her hair up this morning. Later, once she unpacked and found her hair ties, she would.

  When she arrived at Sally’s, the kindly woman put her rolling pin down to greet her at the screen door. “There you are, Heather. Oh, it’s so gut to see you again!” She led her through the kitchen and out toward the front room, then to a small bedroom on the main floor where she would stay. “Once you’re settled, feel free to come and meet the children... if you’d like.” Sally explained that she needed to finish rolling out her piecrusts. “Before they dry out.”

  Heather sat on the bed and ran her hands over the colorful quilt, amazed at the workmanship, all of it hand sewn. She let her gaze drift over the room; in spite of its meager furnishings, it was as tranquil a place as she’d ever stayed... having never actually slept in a bona fide Amish bedroom. Marian’s upstairs guest rooms had been decidedly less spartan, designated as they were for outsiders. She was excited to try the real thing for a few days.

  She took her time unpacking and putting things away. Her laptop, where she’d kept a running journal of each day at the lodge, lay on the bed in the corner. She would continue to add entries, as well as begin work again on her thesis. She didn’t exactly trust how good she was feeling physically. Am I already on the way to health?

  When Heather was settled, she returned to the kitchen as Sally had suggested and met the Smucker children, six in total. Three were school-age boys – Josiah, nearly eleven, named for his preacher father; Isaac Eli, nine and a half, he emphasized with a playful grin; and Danny, just turned seven. The three youngest Smuckers were girls. Katie, the oldest daughter at six, was the only child Heather had met previously. The blondest of Katie’s little sisters – baby Esther – was still crawling, and the other girl, named for her mother, Sally, was toddling and jabbering as she went.

  “This is Heather Nelson.” Sally wiped her brow and smiled sweetly at her brood.

  Little Sally stuck her chubby finger into her loose golden braid and twisted it until it fell completely out. She didn’t seem to mind as she stared at her dirty bare feet, transfixed. Dreckich, she kept saying and pointing to her toes. Heather guessed from their condition that she meant “dirty.”

  She couldn’t ignore the white splotches of dough on Sally’s long black apron and on her forearms and hands. This is what Amish mothers do all day. Cook and clean, and take care of kids... and start all over again the next day. She tried hard to picture herself as a young Amishwoman, married to a nice Amish boy... and having one baby after another. The idea was hard to wrap her mind around.

  When Sally gave a slight nod to her sons, they wiggled their fingers to Heather in a farewell gesture that instantly endeared them to her, then headed outside. “Returning to help their father make hay,” Sally said. The littlest girls played at their mother’s bare feet as she finished making pies, Katie standing on a stool to help.

  Heather turned to sit at the table, watching the little ones and wondering if her somewhat letdown feeling was normal for post-lodge patients. The events of the day – leaving the atmosphere of the Wellness Lodge and its very caring staff behind and meeting handsome Jim Lang – all of it had caught up with her.

  If Jim’s blood tests came back normal, why can’t mine?

  She yearned to
slip away to her little room at the end of the house and close the door for some downtime, but Heather didn’t want to closet herself away when she’d just arrived, so she remained where she was.

  Once Sally’s trademark “healthy pies” were in the oven, Sally asked if she’d mind bathing the two youngest children.

  “Of course not.” Heather had willingly agreed to help out occasionally with the children in exchange for a few days of room and board, but as she hadn’t actually baby-sat before, this might prove to be interesting. Sally wants both girls in the tub at the same time?

  She had her work cut out for her getting the girls washed without getting their mother’s homemade soap in their sensitive eyes or the soapy bathwater splashed onto the bathroom floor. But eventually the task was done.

  The girls were still wrapped in their towels when Sally came. She said in passing that it was their turn to host Preaching service this coming Lord’s Day. “Do ya think you could keep an eye on the girls for a few hours while some of the womenfolk help me scrub down the house on Saturday?”

  “Sure,” she said, relieved to hear that tiny Sally and Esther were “good little nappers.”

  Sally leaned down and patted her namesake’s head, smiling sweetly.

  At the tender sight, Heather thought again of her birth mother. Does she ever think of me?

  The curiosity had become incessant. What had begun as an impulsive need to connect with her first mother now persisted stronger than ever. It wasn’t just a weird I-think-I’m-dying fluke, but a very real desire that had been submerged in her until her ten-day lodge stay had revealed it for what it was.

  The very first minute Heather could politely get away – perhaps tomorrow morning – she’d print out the request form from the adoption registry and send it off to the proper department in Columbus, Ohio. She needed to at least know the identity of the Amishwoman, assuming the woman had authorized its release. She didn’t want to consider that the file might be closed to her.

  Supper that evening for her and Sally consisted of a vegetable broth similar to that served at the lodge and a large salad of baby greens, spinach leaves, tomatoes, cucumbers, and alfalfa sprouts. She was surprised at how well behaved the older four children were during the meal, but the two little ones... they were a different story. She’d heard once, maybe from her own mom, that Amishwomen doted on their children until they were two years old, after which time the obedience training began in earnest. Little Sally’s antics had Heather guessing she had not yet reached that mark, although she couldn’t be sure. What did a two-year-old look and act like, anyway?