Piecing It All Together

by Leslie Gould

  “I’ll help.” Arleta started to stand.

  “No,” I said. “Please sit.”

  Five minutes later, I delivered tea to Arleta and put Mammi’s on the table. Then I took the baby. I also scooped up the newspaper and retreated to my chair.

  With Ruthie in one arm and the paper in the other, I read Jane’s article. It was all about the history of Nappanee. She wrote well, with clarity and zest. It wasn’t as interesting as the story she started today, but then again, it was only a column. I admired the woman even more.

  The baby began to fuss, and I put the paper down and transferred her to my shoulder. “Arleta,” I said, “does Miriam have a cell phone?”

  “Nee,” she said.

  “What about Joshua?”

  “He doesn’t either. They don’t have money to pay for those things. The deputy already asked about that.”

  I didn’t say anything more. I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I confront Joshua? Or let Deputy Rogers know that the boy had lied to him? I wasn’t sure if it would do more harm than good to tell Arleta and Vernon.

  We stayed for about a half hour, and then Mammi said we needed to stop by the store on the way home for Uncle Seth. “I’ll start your oven and put the casserole in,” she said. “It’s lemon chicken and rice, with broccoli.”

  It sounded fairly healthy, knowing Jane.

  I started toward Arleta with Ruthie, who was fast asleep.

  “Put her in the bassinet,” Arleta said. “She’ll sleep for a while.”

  I did as she instructed and then followed Arleta into the kitchen. As she told Mammi good-bye, I couldn’t help but notice again how much she liked my grandmother. She gave me a quick farewell.

  Once we had our coats on, I went down the steps first and encouraged Mammi to take her time. The last thing we needed was a broken hip. Then I held her arm as we made our way to the pickup.

  We reached the pickup, and I held the passenger door for Mammi. As I closed it, Joshua came out of the barn.

  “Hey, could I talk with you?” I asked.

  His eyes widened, and he looked quickly in both directions.

  “I just need to start the pickup so it warms up for my grandmother.”

  He still looked like he wanted to flee, and I expected him to as I turned the key. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Mammi.

  When I climbed from the cab, Joshua was still there. I motioned my head toward the side of the barn. He followed me.

  “I saw you using your phone,” I said. “I was in the kitchen.”

  Even in the darkness, I could see his face reddening.

  “Your mom said you don’t have a phone and neither does Miriam. But I know you do, and others have guessed you do. How else could you have arranged for a ride to pick you up on New Year’s Eve?”

  He gave me a blank stare.

  “Everyone but your parents has figured out that Miriam has a phone too. How else would she be arranging for rides?”

  He shook his head. “She doesn’t have a phone. We borrowed one. We don’t own it.” He patted his pocket. “I have it now.”

  “Who did you borrow it from?”

  He looked down at the snow-covered ground. “I can’t say.”

  “Joshua, your sister is missing. You need to tell me—or someone—what’s going on. You need to at least be honest with the deputy, especially if you’re not going to be with your parents.”

  He lifted his head but didn’t meet my gaze. “Miriam’s fine.”

  “How do you know?”

  He patted his pocket again. “She called me from a landline. She’s with relatives. An aunt on my Dat’s side.”

  “In Newbury Township?”

  He hesitated, then shook his head. “Listen, Miriam hates it here. I don’t blame her for leaving. She’s eighteen. An adult. She’s fine.”

  I exhaled, sending a plume of frost into the air.

  “Would you give me your phone number?”

  He shook his head.

  Not sure what to do, I dug in my purse for a piece of paper and then wrote my number on it. “Call me if Miriam needs help. I’ll go get her, no questions asked.”

  He took the paper and shoved it into his pocket.

  I continued. “And call me if you need help. Or if your mom or Ruthie does.”

  He inhaled sharply as Vernon barked, “Joshua!”

  “Gotta go,” he said.

  I stepped toward the pickup. “Thank you for talking.”

  He darted around the corner without answering me.

  An hour later, after going by the store and then Uncle Seth’s again, we finally reached the house just as more snow started to fall. I hoped it wouldn’t be another doozy of a storm. We hurried inside and warmed up soup for our supper.

  By nine o’clock, I was huddled in my bed, in my coat again, trying to get warm. Why had I come to Indiana?

  During the day, when I was with Mammi, life seemed bearable. But at night, I felt overcome with sadness.

  Feelings of abandonment swamped me. As stupid as it sounded, I had felt abandoned when Mom died. I needed her as much at seventeen as I ever had. Probably more. Intellectually, I knew she hadn’t chosen to die. But emotionally, I blamed her for leaving me.

  I felt abandoned again, this time by Ryan, and at night I couldn’t hold back the tears. It was as if Mom’s death had just happened. As if I was mourning her again, along with being rejected by Ryan. Waves of anger accompanied my grief. How could Ryan do this to me? Especially when he knew how vulnerable I was.

  During the quiet stillness of the night, I thought about him far too much, until it felt as if he were filling my entire head. I went over our relationship, detail by detail. What had I missed? Yes, he could be moody at times. And we certainly had different financial values. He, at times, seemed influenced by other people’s opinions—not when it came to work, but when it came to having the latest and the best. If he read a good review of a restaurant, he had to try it. The same with the latest piece of technology. Or the newest running shoes. Or whatever. At the time, I thought it smart how aware he was of trends, but now I wondered if it was a sign of insecurity. Did that insecurity drive him back to Amber? Into the arms of a strong, take-charge woman? Maybe that was what he needed, instead of me.

  Maybe I was far from being a strong, independent woman. As I dissected our relationship, I also realized how engrossed I’d become in Ryan. I had only a few other friends, which was painfully obvious by the lack of texts I’d had from anyone checking up on me after the wedding had been canceled. A few co-workers texted to say they were sorry I wasn’t coming back to work, but that was it.

  Shivering, I vowed—again—to stop speculating about what had happened. I had to get on with my life before my out-of-control feelings got the best of me. The next day I would go to a coffee shop, check my banking app, and look at my credit card charges. Then I would start searching for a new job. I knew it would take some time, but hopefully not more than a couple of weeks.

  As much as I loved Mammi and as much as I valued her community, I had to leave Indiana before my emotions consumed me.

  CHAPTER 12

  The next morning, after breakfast, I packed my computer, my phone charger, and my portable battery pack and charger into my bag and was ready to leave the house when a vehicle pulled into the driveway. I stepped to the window. It was Tommy’s Jeep. Why wasn’t he at work?

  I opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. Tommy had the back passenger’s side door open and was pulling Mason from his car seat. The little boy saw me and waved, a big grin on his face. A lime green stocking hat was pulled over his curly hair, although a few strands hung down over his forehead. I couldn’t help but think of Emma’s little boy, Hansi, who’d died from diphtheria. If nothing else, stories from the past made one thankful for how relatively easy life was today. Even staying in an Amish household with no electricity or heat in the bedrooms was a dream compared to camping out of a covered wagon.

  For a
moment, I felt ashamed of my desire to flee Indiana as soon as possible.

  “Hallo,” Tommy called out.

  “Taking the day off?” I called out.

  He shook his head. “I was going to leave today for Nevada, so I’d already given my notice. They replaced me.”

  “Oh.”

  “We were on our way to Mom’s.”

  “Even though you’re not working?”

  He smiled. “You don’t hesitate to ask questions, do you?”

  I grimaced.

  “No, it’s fine,” he said. “I always liked that about you.” He smiled again. “I thought I’d stop by, but it looks like you’re ready to leave.”

  If he only knew how often I wore my coat around the house—and not just to bed. “I’m headed out to a coffee shop to use my laptop. But come on in. I have all day.”

  He shifted Mason to his other arm as he started up the steps. “We won’t stay long. I just had some things to ask you.”

  As they reached the porch, Mason yanked off his stocking cap and dropped it.

  I stifled a laugh and bent down to pick it up. When I stood back up, the boy was reaching for me. Instinctively, I took him. The weight of his body felt good in my arms.

  Tommy stepped to the door and held it open for us.

  As I entered the living room, Mammi said, without saying hello to Tommy or Mason, “I’ll put the hot water on. Plus, I have cranberry muffins.” She headed to the kitchen and we followed, leaving our coats on.

  I put Mason in the high chair, left over from when Dat was a baby, and filled a sippy cup with milk for him. Once Mammi had the muffins on the table and coffee brewing, she said, “I need to go check my phone messages. Jane might have left one.”

  I stood. “I’ll go with you.”

  “You stay. I need the fresh air to clear my head.”

  I shook my head in concern. “It’s slippery out there from the storm last night. You shouldn’t be walking to the phone shack alone.”

  “Humor me,” she said and then smiled.

  Once she’d put on her coat and boots and slipped out the back door, I asked Tommy what he wanted to talk about as I stood to pour the coffee.

  “Miriam and Joshua.” He thanked me as I placed a cup in front of him. “And Kenny.”

  I sat down with my cup of coffee.

  “When I picked up Kenny’s phone, he didn’t have any text messages showing. He must have deleted all of them. But several have popped up lately.”

  “From who?”

  “I have no idea,” Tommy said. “All of the names are weird. One person is ‘Blue’ and another is ‘Dragon.’ Things like that.”

  “Yikes,” I said. “What are the texts about?”

  “Some are asking where he’s at. Why he didn’t stop by when he said he would. Others are requests . . .”

  “For?”

  “I can’t quite tell.” Tommy shrugged. “But I’m guessing it’s not for anything on the up-and-up.”

  “So the rumors about Kenny selling drugs could be true?”

  Tommy nodded.

  “Why haven’t you gone to the police with this information?”

  “I did,” Tommy said. “I’m expecting to be arrested any minute now.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was serious and gave him a questioning look.

  “Deputy Rogers was practically giddy as he documented the texts and the information. It seems he thinks I’m the prime suspect.” He frowned. “In fact, I got the sense that he felt I was just trying to distract attention from myself.”

  His words gave me pause. Should I be suspicious of Tommy too? Did Deputy Rogers have other reasons to suspect Tommy in Miriam’s disappearance? On the other hand, if he wasn’t innocent, who better to lead me to where Miriam was? Or at least to where he’d taken her.

  I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug, concerned. “I chatted with both Arleta and Joshua yesterday. I’m thinking from what they said, separately, that Miriam might be with relatives near Gary who are Mennonite. We could start with the Mennonite churches and see if we can track her down.” I met Tommy’s gaze, wondering what his reaction to what I was going to say next might be. “Want to go with me tomorrow? I think it’s about an hour and a half to Gary.”

  “Sure,” he answered. “Hopefully we can make sure Miriam’s safe—and clear my name with Deputy Rogers. I’ll leave Mason with my mom. What time do you want to leave?”

  MAMMI MADE IT safely back from the phone shack just as Tommy was brushing the crumbs off Mason and into his other hand, trying his best not to make an even bigger mess than the little boy already had.

  I grabbed the broom and told him not to worry about it.

  After the two left, Mammi said, “Jane needs me to stop by this afternoon with a pattern. Can you take me?”

  “Of course.” I swept the crumbs into the dustpan. “I’ll go to the coffee shop right now, then come back and pick you up.”

  Ten minutes later, as I plugged in my phone, battery pack, and then my laptop at the coffee shop, I thought of how Tommy had jumped at the chance to go with me to Gary. I couldn’t see any hint of guilt in his reaction. But then again, maybe he was a sociopath.

  My mind wandered to when he was fifteen, the summer he was so awful to me. But the key word was fifteen. His rudeness at the beginning of his teen years was no indication that he was a sociopath, Amish or not.

  Once the computer powered on, the first thing I did was reload my bank app and then check my credit card statement. I gasped. Every single vendor had charged me for what should have gone on Ryan’s card.

  I picked up my phone and called my bank. First, I asked the representative to reverse the charges.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but it sounds like a domestic misunderstanding. Your best bet is to hire a lawyer.”

  How ironic that here I was in Amish country amongst people who didn’t sue, and she was suggesting I hire a lawyer.

  “I’m not sure what I’ll do,” I said. “But would you add my call to the notes on my account?”

  “Of course.”

  After I hung up, I texted Ryan. I now owe half my annual salary to pay for the wedding YOU canceled. If you don’t remedy this immediately, I will take action against you.

  After I sent the text, still holding my phone in my hand, I stared out the coffee shop window at downtown Nappanee. An Amish buggy zipped by, but not even the rhythm of the hooves comforted me. I’d been raised not to seek revenge. But I couldn’t let Ryan get away with ruining me financially.

  My phone began to buzz. I glanced down. Ryan was calling. Inhaling sharply, I answered.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. My card was stolen. I totally forgot it was the one all the vendors had on file.” Ryan paused a moment as if expecting me to respond. When I didn’t, he said, “I promise I’ll take care of it.”

  “Please call all of the vendors right now and give them another credit card number.”

  “Of course, as soon as I can,” he said. “This afternoon, I promise.”

  “Do you have their numbers?”

  “I’m not sure . . .”

  I quickly said, “I’ll share them with you.”

  “Perfect.” Again he paused, but then said, “Look, I’m really sorry for all of this.” He lowered his voice. “How are you doing? I can’t stop thinking about you. Can we meet in person to talk all of this through?”

  The craziness I’d been trying so hard to suppress came back with a vengeance. “No, we can’t meet in person. I’m at my grandmother’s.”

  “In Indiana?”

  “Just fix the card problem.”

  “Savannah . . .” He sounded so forlorn.

  “Bye.” I ended the call with a flourish. Who did he think he was, saying, “I can’t stop thinking about you” and “Can we meet in person?” And saying my name like that. Did Amber leave him again already?

  My stomach roiled as I shared the numbers with Ryan
. Then, I took a deep breath. I was going to look for jobs, not think about Ryan.

  I stared out the window again. Had he really said “I can’t stop thinking about you”? Should I have told him I couldn’t stop thinking about him either?

  No. Definitely not.

  I opened a new tab and began searching for jobs in health-care administration. There was a position at a large clinic in Seattle. Too bad I didn’t want to be on the West Coast. And an opening at a small-town hospital in Arizona. Reading between the lines, I guessed it had sustainability problems. I pulled up a different website and kept searching.

  An administration position listed at Bremen Community Hospital popped up. It was less than ten miles away from Nappanee, if I remembered right. The search engine I was using must have been tracking my location. I scanned the description. Twenty-five beds, nonprofit, critical access hospital, serving Bremen and the surrounding communities.

  Rural hospitals were struggling all over the United States. It sounded like more of a challenge than I wanted. Besides, it was just as cold in Bremen as it was in Nappanee. I kept scrolling.

  The next job that caught my eye was at a clinic in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. That would be ironic for me to leave Nappanee and retrace the route Emma had taken to Indiana, but go even farther to where our Amish ancestors who first landed in America had settled. Then again, maybe Emma returned to Pennsylvania and married Abel. Maybe her future children or grandchildren whom I’d descended from ended up settling in Indiana. I wouldn’t know until I heard the rest of the story.

  I read the rest of the Lancaster job description. I was qualified. I looked at the application. It was pretty straightforward. I opened my résumé file and updated a few things. It probably wouldn’t look good that I’d quit my last job so abruptly, but I’d be honest about why if I got an interview. I went ahead and filled out the application, attached my résumé, and hit send.

  Then I called the car rental office in South Bend and arranged to pick up a car tomorrow on our way back from Gary. I was sure Tommy wouldn’t mind dropping me off.

  AN HOUR LATER, Mammi and I were at Plain Patterns. I expected it to be a quick trip, but Mammi and Jane both seemed to have other plans. First, Mammi asked some questions about the quilt she was working on, while I browsed through the fabric. If I was going to move to Lancaster County, maybe I should take up quilting again. I bet there were all sorts of classes there, and I’d enjoyed the time I’d spent with Jane and the other women.