Amish Baby Lessons

by Patrice Lewis

  “Ja, why not? If nothing else, it will be an experiment to see how she does. And since I’ve been invited to a singing on Friday, if tonight works well, I’ll bring Mercy again. That way you’ll be completely free to do whatever you need to get ready for the farmer’s market.”

  “You’re turning into quite the social butterfly.” He didn’t want to admit why Jane’s popularity bothered him.

  “It isn’t easy, believe me.” She looked at her plate. “I’m shy by nature, but I want to get to know people. It gets me...” She raised her head, and he saw a twinkle of humor in her eyes. “It gets me outside my comfort zone.”

  He remembered telling her that’s what he had to do while selling his produce at the farmer’s market.

  “Ja,” he agreed. “If you can take Mercy, you could combine business with pleasure. You can attend your youngie events, and I can get some work done.”

  “Are you finished? I’ll wash up.” She rose.

  “Ja. Danke, lunch was delicious.” He snatched up his hat and stepped out the door.

  Back in the fields, he grabbed a hoe and applied it to the weeds. He realized he was discomfited by Jane’s plans. But he was in no position to question her social life.

  He tried not to think of his sister’s popularity and where it had ultimately led. But Jane wasn’t Eliza. He didn’t have responsibility for her, not as he’d had with Eliza.

  The fact that he had messed up when raising his sister was something he tried not to dwell on.

  But it wasn’t always easy.

  * * *

  Before she left for the hot dog roast, Jane packed a diaper bag with everything she could possibly need for the infant. She made dinner for Levy. She folded diapers and stacked them near the baby’s crib. With Mercy tucked in the sling, she swept the house and porch.

  When she was ready to leave for the event, she carried the baby and the diaper bag out to the barn where Levy was milking the cows. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be back no later than 8:30. Your dinner is in the oven, warming. Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll do them in the morning.”

  He barely looked up from his task. “Fine. Have fun.”

  She shrugged and set out for the function. Whatever Levy’s issue with her attending youngie events, he couldn’t fault her for neglecting her job.

  The hot dog roast was held at the farm of Sarah’s parents. Sarah was the first to spot her when she arrived. “You came! Oh, let me see the baby. Isn’t she darling!”

  Mercy was passed from person to person and cooed over. “She’s so cute.”

  “What a joy!”

  “She’s such a quiet baby!”

  Mercy didn’t cry during any of these exchanges. When she finally found her way back into Jane’s arms, Jane settled the baby in the sling and joined Sarah and Rhoda around a pit fire, where everyone held hot dogs on forked sticks over the fire.

  “Is Levy glad you took the baby with you tonight?” asked Sarah.

  “I guess. He’s not pleased I’m here at all.”

  Her new friend looked surprised. “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. He acts like a bear with a sore paw whenever I mention coming to any singings. He seems to think I’m acting like his sister did before she disappeared.”

  “Levy’s so serious,” observed Rhoda. “And you’re just the opposite. How do you two get along?”

  “By not seeing each other much during the day. He’s outside working, I’m taking care of Mercy in the house. End of story.”

  Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Any sparks between the two of you?”

  “Lots. But not the kind you mean. There are times he drives me crazy, other times he’s amazing to watch in action, like when he’s at the farmer’s market. Then it’s like he’s a different man.”

  “In a good way or a bad way?”

  “Just a different way. He becomes far more animated, jokes and banters a lot with the customers and sells like crazy.”

  “He’s interesting, all right.” Sarah bit into a cookie. “I don’t know him very well, but I’ve never heard anything bad about him. No one blames him for what happened with his sister. We all know he did the best he could with her.”

  “Maybe that’s why he gets bothered when you attend youngie events,” remarked Rhoda. “He’s used to acting like a father.”

  “Well, he’s not my father,” Jane said as she laid Mercy on a soft blanket on the ground.

  “Nein, but he’s used to being a father to his sister. That’s probably why he does it.” Rhoda looked down at Mercy. “I wonder if Eliza will ever come back for her baby?”

  “Did you know her?”

  “Eliza? Of course. Everyone knew her. She was quite the social butterfly.”

  “That’s the term Levy used with me,” said Jane. “What was she like? Besides being a social butterfly, as you called her?”

  “She was always laughing, always smiling, but she didn’t much like working hard. Except sewing. She was very gut at sewing. Levy works all the time, so he used to get frustrated at her laziness. She kept up the garden pretty well, but I remember seeing the inside of their house once, and it was dusty and she had dirty clothes in her room. She didn’t like cooking either.” Sarah rubbed her chin. “I mean, neither do I, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it. She was very stubborn about not doing things she didn’t like. But with just the two of them, her and Levy, there’s a lot to do even on a small farm. Maybe that’s what drove her away, thinking she would have it easier if she lived among the Englisch.”

  “I wonder if she’ll ever return to Grand Creek,” Jane murmured.

  “I think part of him thinks she won’t,” said Sarah. “That’s why he’s so determined to keep the baby. Maybe he feels he shouldn’t fail the second time around.”

  “Yet I’m doing all the work with her.” Jane tickled Mercy under the chin.

  “I admire that you’re nannying her,” commented Sarah.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I think it would be hard to be a nanny, especially to a boppli this adorable. What if you fall in love with her? You’re not her mamm. It’s just a job. When the time comes, you’ll move on, and what will happen to Mercy then?”

  Shaken, Jane looked at the happy infant cooing on the blanket. “You’re right. And it would be very easy to fall in love with her. But what choice do I have? What choice does Levy have? He can’t take care of her by himself, not if he wants to be able to work.”

  “Ja, it’s a problem all right.” Sarah dangled a leaf over the baby’s face, though Mercy couldn’t quite focus on it. “It would be hard, in some ways, if Eliza ever did come back. It wouldn’t be so hard now since Mercy is too young to know any different, but what would happen if Eliza came back when Mercy was older?”

  Sarah spoke nothing but the truth—and where did that leave her, Jane? She hadn’t planned on staying with her aunt and uncle forever. She missed her own family.

  But leaving Mercy would mean depriving the baby of the only mother figure she’d known. With unease, Jane wondered if it wouldn’t be better to leave sooner rather than later, before Mercy would know the difference. If Levy was determined to raise his niece, then he’d better take to heart those baby lessons.

  “I think we’re going to have rain tomorrow.” Rhoda pointed overhead at the darkening sky. “Maybe even tonight. That’s gut, we need it.”

  “I should probably get going.” Jane rose to her feet. “I told Levy I’d bring Mercy back home by 8:30 so he could put her to bed.”

  “Are you coming to the singing on Friday? It’s at my house,” urged Rhoda.

  “I hope so. I’ll probably have to do the same thing and bring Mercy with me, but I’d like to attend.”

  “Everyone is so glad you’re here,” Rhoda stated. “We want you to come to every gathering!”

  She
smiled her thanks. “I’ll come as often as I can. Come on, little one, let’s go see your uncle.” She lifted Mercy off the blanket and slipped her into the sling. “Gude nacht.”

  She walked the half mile or so back to Levy’s home. The clouds overhead thickened and a wind gusted up. Jane picked up her pace.

  She hesitated at Levy’s front door. Lamplight shone from within. She knocked before walking in. “Levy? I’ve brought Mercy home.”

  Levy emerged from the small room he used as an office. “Ja, danke.”

  “Do you want me to change her diaper before I go?”

  “Nein, I’ll take care of it.” His face was a neutral mask. He didn’t ask her about the gathering, didn’t ask how Mercy had behaved. He simply held out his arms to take the baby.

  “I’ll be here tomorrow then.” Feeling peeved, she hung the baby sling on a hook by the door and left.

  Would it kill Levy to show any warmth or appreciation? Would it pain him to inquire how her new friends were or how many people had attended the hot dog roast? As she stomped down the road, she admitted his lack of interest bothered her.

  * * *

  Levy didn’t see Jane disappear into the night. He saw his sister Eliza walk away. For one moment, the two women merged in his mind, and he shook his head to dispel the illusion.

  He knew he was projecting his fears and concerns about Eliza’s behavior on to Jane, and that wasn’t fair.

  He looked at the sweet baby in his arms. She looked ready for sleep, her eyes just about drooping. He searched her features again for any traces of his sister, and believed he saw a similarity. Or was he imagining things?

  He sighed and went about preparing Mercy for bed. How much did the baby resemble her father?

  He shied away from speculating on the circumstances of Mercy’s birth. He loved his sister with a fierce devotion, a bond made stronger after he stepped into the role of guardian when his parents died. His failure to rein in Eliza’s wild adolescence weighed on him like a stone. He still blamed himself for her departure.

  If Mercy was born out of wedlock as he suspected, then Eliza might never return to the community.

  Yet he desperately hoped that one day Eliza would return to claim her baby, even if it meant facing down the inevitable gossip. That, more than anything else, accounted for his stubborn refusal to give Mercy to another family to raise. However irrational, Mercy was a link to his lost sister. If he gave up Mercy, he gave up all hope of seeing Eliza again.

  He kissed the boppli’s forehead and laid the sleepy infant in her crib. He would never give up Mercy, because he would never give up hope that Eliza might return.

  Chapter Seven

  In the morning Jane opened her eyes and saw it was raining, no surprise after the change in weather she saw the night before.

  “It is a gift from Gott, as we need the rain,” Uncle Peter commented at breakfast, sipping coffee and looking at the gray weather outside.

  “It’s going to keep Levy indoors, though,” muttered Jane.

  Her uncle raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

  She explained, “I’ve come up with a daily routine with the baby, and he’s likely to get in the way.”

  “Well, it’s his house. And his niece.”

  “Ja, I know.” Jane scrubbed a hand over her face. “I’m sorry, Onkel Peter. It’s just that...well, Levy and I don’t always get along.”

  “He has a lot on his mind.”

  “I know, so I try to be understanding about it.” Jane glanced at the clock. “But I’d better get going. I try to be there by seven.”

  Donning a cloak and taking an umbrella, Jane headed out toward Levy’s house. The fields around her, even under a gray sky, greened up as the rain washed away dust and soaked the thirsty soil. Jane breathed deeply in the moist fresh air and vowed to keep her temper in check today.

  Surprisingly, Levy was feeding the baby when she arrived, sitting with Mercy in the rocking chair as she drank a bottle of formula. “Guder mariye,” she said. “Do you want me to take over?”

  “Ja, please. I haven’t milked the cows yet.”

  Mercy fussed when the bottle slipped out of her mouth, but Jane traded places, settled into the chair and continued feeding her. “You milk three cows, right?”

  “Right. It takes me about half an hour.”

  “Have you had breakfast?”

  “Ja.” He crammed his hat over his curly hair. “Back in a while.” He left for the barn.

  When he returned with buckets of fresh milk, Jane was in the kitchen putting together lunch, with Mercy secure in the sling against her chest.

  Levy stood in front of the sink, staring out the kitchen window at the pouring rain. “I won’t get much done today,” he muttered.

  “Is it such a bad thing to take a day off?” Jane asked.

  “I already have a day off,” he replied. “On the Sabbath. The rest of the time, I’m on a tight schedule to get everything done in time for Saturday’s market. You know that.”

  “Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like you have a choice.” She gestured toward the window.

  “I know.”

  “Don’t you have anything that needs doing in the barn?” she hinted.

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Trying to get rid of me?”

  “Well, you may not be able to work, but I’m still on the clock. And you’re in the way.” She tempered her words with a half smile, but truthfully her schedule was easier without Levy’s constant hovering—even if it was, as her uncle pointed out, his house.

  He moved away from the sink. “What is it you do all day?”

  “What I always do,” she retorted. “But normally you’re outside.”

  “Ja, ja, you’re right. I’m sorry, that was a schtupid thing to say.” He shrugged. “I’ll be in the barn.”

  What is it you do all day? In the now-silent kitchen, Jane snatched up dirty dishes and dumped them in the sink.

  Whatever he found to do in the barn only kept him occupied for an hour, then he was back in the house. Jane pushed aside a strand of hair that had escaped her kapp as she chopped bell peppers and onions for a casserole. “Are you up for a trip to town?” she asked.

  “Ja, I suppose. What do you need?”

  “Formula for Mercy. We’re running low.”

  “And it would get me out of the house, right?”

  “Why yes, it would.” She smiled and kept chopping.

  “I have a few other things I could pick up as well. Ja, I’ll go into town.”

  He grabbed his wallet and headed back for the barn. Jane sighed with relief.

  Why was he so restless today? Whatever the cause, she was glad when she heard the clip-clop of hooves pull away from the house.

  * * *

  Levy hitched up his favorite mare, Maggie, to the buggy and swung into the seat.

  He felt so restless today. He also couldn’t believe he’d insulted Jane in such a way. What is it you do all day? How dumb could he be? He knew exactly what she did all day.

  He trotted the horse toward the center of town.

  His errands were trivial, but he lingered in the hardware store. He avoided the Troyers’ dry-goods store.

  It was with some relief that he saw friends hailing him from under a café awning where they lingered over coffee.

  “Do you have time to join us?” asked Thomas.

  “Ja.” Levy dropped into a chair. “This rain is keeping you from working outside too?”

  “For sure and certain.” Thomas winked. “And alle daag rumhersitze macht em faul. Sitting all day makes one lazy. I could be doing things in the barn, but I blame Paul here for dragging me into town on the pretext of going to the bank. Next thing I know, I’m drinking coffee.”

  Levy chuckled. He’d known Thomas Lapp and Paul Yoder since they were boys.
They always managed to cheer him up, no matter what.

  “How goes fatherhood?” asked Paul.

  A waitress took his order and departed. Levy removed his hat and hooked it on the back of his chair. “Better, now that Jane’s doing most of the hard work.”

  “Babies can be tough.” Thomas tugged his beard. “My Annie, she juggles both our young ones very well, but it is definitely easier with two people at hand.”

  “Our third is due in about a month.” Paul sipped his beverage. “Louisa is wonderful with the kids. My eldest boy, he’s now old enough to follow me around the farm. He’s a joy, as is my little girl. But tiny babies...they’re best left to the frauen.”

  Thomas chimed in. “Have you considered giving Mercy to another family?”

  Levy shook his head. “Nein. She stays with me. She’s all I have of Eliza.”

  “Then it’s good you have Jane to take care of her. Everyone says she’s wonderful with babies.” Paul grinned. “Better than you!”

  The words were meant to be teasing, Levy knew, but they still stung. He drew his brows together. “So I’m a little awkward with Mercy. I haven’t had any practice before this.”

  “Will Jane stay? Does she seem content to be Mercy’s nanny?”

  “Danke,” Levy said to the waitress, who placed a coffee cup before him. “Ja, she says so. At this point I don’t know what else I can do but keep her on.”

  “Why, is there a problem?” Thomas’s brows arched upward. “Everyone talks well of her. Is she hard to get along with?”

  “Nein, not exactly,” Levy hedged. “I’m paying her a little extra to handle housekeeping chores as well, and she’s been very good about it. It’s just that...” He stopped and stared out at the downpour just outside the café awning.

  “Just that what?” prompted Paul.

  “I don’t know,” he went on. “I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong. She’s always wanting to go to singings and get-togethers. Last night she went to a hot dog roast and took Mercy with her. I can’t say she’s neglecting her job because she’s not. It’s just that...”