The Amish Seamstress (32 page)

I pulled the baking pan from the oven and scooped all of the chopped shallots into it, coating them in melted butter. Ella showed me how to add in the chicken pieces as well, so as I dipped them into the butter then flipped them over in the pan for baking, she took out a bowl and began mixing up the other ingredients that would be poured over all of it.

“Klara was happy to take the infant but not the toddler,” Ella continued. “She still had suspicions about Alexander being Lexie's father, so she refused to keep her—or let
Mammi
keep her, either. Through a friend, they arranged for a private adoption instead, by an older, childless Mennonite couple who lived out in Oregon. That couple, the Jaegers, adopted and raised Lexie, starting when she was about two years old.”

I washed my hands at the sink. “And the infant that Klara and Alexander adopted, that was Ada, right? But she didn't even know she was adopted until a few years ago?”

Ella nodded as she measured out the soy sauce. “It wasn't until Lexie came to Lancaster County, trying to find her own birth parents, that Ada's story came out too. It was a big mess at first, but in the end, Lexie's husband, James, pulled us all together and somehow convinced
Mammi
and Klara and Mom to admit what happened. It wasn't easy at the time, but
it ended up being a huge blessing for the whole family. Since then there's been a lot of healing.”

She grew quiet after that, stirring together the ingredients and then pouring them in with the buttered chicken and shallots.

“Tell me again how Zed's story fits in with Giselle's. I know they're connected somehow too, more than just being aunt and nephew, I mean.”

Ella glanced at me and smiled. “Country song, verse two,” she quipped. “Okay, let's see if I can make this simple. Burke Bauer, the man who had the affair with Giselle and ended up fathering Lexie and Ada, already had a son named Freddy with his wife. Freddy was about the same age as my mother, and the two of them ended up sort of bonding amid all the Giselle drama back then. Eventually, they married and had me, which makes Burke Bauer my grandfather.”

“But your last name was Bayer, not Bauer.”

Ella nodded, sliding the pan into the oven and then tackling the messy countertop. “Freddy chose to anglicize it, mostly as a dig at his own father. He changed Bauer to Bayer before I was even born.”

My eyes widened as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. We were talking about Freddy Bayer, the patient I cared for in his dying days. “Okay, now I get it,” I said, and I knew where she was going next.

As she continued to clean, she told me how Freddy eventually ended up doing the same thing his father had done years before, not just having an affair with a young Amish woman, but also getting her pregnant.

“While he was still married to Marta?”

“
Ya
. My mom found out about what had happened, and though it was hard to forgive my father for what he'd done, she was willing to try. Mom of course held no ill will against the baby—or really even all that much against the mother. In fact, she offered to adopt the child once he was born so she and Freddy could raise him together. Lydia was young and unmarried, so she agreed to let that happen.”

I finished the story for her, relieved at last to have all of these facts sorted out in my mind more clearly. “And when that baby was born, they took him home to live with his birth father and his adoptive mother. And that baby was Zed.”

She nodded. “Except that our father took off soon after, leaving Mom to raise me and Zed all by herself.”

I took a deep breath, thinking about the women in this family and all that they had endured…

Frannie, who had suffered abuse by her husband, but after he died she went on to make a life for herself and her three daughters.

Marta, who had lovingly taken in and raised the very child who was the product of her husband's infidelity.

Giselle, who had given up both her babies for adoption and then fled to Switzerland, where she made a life for herself—a successful one by the world's standards. I couldn't judge by God's. Zed had told me she was a fabric artist, that she combined weaving and appliqué and made a living from her work.

Even Klara, who had adopted her sister's baby and raised her with love and care into a fine young woman.

In a way, I felt intimidated by these women and their strength, but I respected them too. They stayed on my mind all evening, even later, after Luke and Rosalee returned and we all consumed Ella's amazing dinner. Afterward, we sat by the fire, enjoying our final night together. Sadness overcame me at my imminent departure, but that sadness was tinged with anticipation.

I would just need to trust God that my time with Frannie would be a blessing to her—and to all the women of the Lantz family.

The next morning Ella had the coffee started and oatmeal bubbling on the stove by the time I made it out to the kitchen. I quickly set the table.

“Zed left a message for you on the machine. I heard it when I went down to the bakery to put the sticky buns in the oven.”

I didn't think I knew anyone who worked as hard as Ella Kline, except maybe my
mamm
.

She turned down the burner. “He said have a good Thanksgiving and he'll see you at Christmas.”

My face grew warm, even though the fire in the woodstove had barely heated the kitchen yet.

“He sounded conflicted,” Ella said and then turned around, facing me, the expression on her face one of disapproval. “I guess I'm a little slow to catch on, but I think I have the picture now.

I blushed, looking away.

“This thing between you two…it's more than a friendship, isn't it?”

“Ella…” We'd gotten along so well. I didn't want it all to unravel right before I left. Still, I couldn't lie to her.

“It's…one-sided. My side. He's oblivious, as always.”

“I'm not so sure about that.” She was pursing her lips, her forehead wrinkled into a scowl.

“What do you disapprove of? That he's Mennonite and I'm not?”

She stirred the oatmeal on the stove. “Mostly, it's the timing. Izzy, he's still a boy. You both have a lot of growing to do. Marriage isn't for children.”

I couldn't help being hurt. I didn't respond.

“No offense,” she said. “I had a lot of growing up to do—by myself—before I was ready to get serious with Luke. Now it's Zed's turn to grow. Think of a newborn pony and how clumsy and trembly and out of proportion it is. Zed's still a young pony, personality-wise. He just has to get through these early stages, and then he'll mature into a fine racehorse.” She stirred the oatmeal one more time and flashed me a smile as she turned the burner off. “Correction. He's too off in his own world to be a racehorse. More like a fine, dependable buggy horse, one that is always there for you and takes you where you want to go.”

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a little better as I did. Maybe she was right. Perhaps I should focus more on growing up myself.

After breakfast I returned to my room to pack up the last of my things. Luke and I would need to leave for the bus station soon, and though I'd wanted to tell Eddie, Annie, and Cora goodbye, I didn't have the time to go over there. I'd also needed to speak with Tom and finally set him straight. I didn't want to, but I could hear my
daed
's voice inside my head, telling me to do the right thing. It wasn't fair to lead Tom on or make him think there was any possibility for a future relationship. Glancing at my watch, I decided I would just have to write to them—and to him—instead.

Once I was packed, I attended to Rosalee one last time, but she really didn't need my help. She was well on her way to recovery, and I was very glad for that.

Ella had to go down to open up the bakery, though she told me to come say goodbye as we were leaving. Luke went to hitch the horse to the buggy.

I retrieved my bag from my room and set it down in the kitchen, and then with a heavy heart I ventured to the living room. Rosalee stood, leaning on her walker as I gave her a hug.

She thanked me for everything I'd done, and I thanked her too for more than I could say.

Tears stung my eyes. “I hate goodbyes,” I muttered as we pulled apart.

“No surprise there.” She chuckled. “Izzy, they're part of life. You'd never get to say hello if it weren't for saying goodbye.”

We shared one more hug and then I left, grabbing my bag in the kitchen and my cape from the mudroom. I flung it over my shoulders and then hurried down the ramp to head for the bakery. As I did, I was surprised to see Cora and Annie step out of the woods.

“Luke said you were leaving today,” Cora said. “We came over to tell you goodbye.”

Tears stung my eyes again. “
Danke
,” I said. “Please tell Eddie goodbye too. I'm sorry I didn't have time to come over.”

“I'm here!” I heard Eddie's voice a second before I saw him. “I'm going to cut through the fields to get to school.
Mamm
said I could.”

Cora smiled. “Just today. So he could tell you farewell.”

Eddie, followed by Annie, ran toward me and I gave them both a hug.

“Now run along, Eddie,” Cora said as I let the children go. She lifted Annie into her arms as her youngest son took off toward the orchard. The school was on the other side of Rosalee's north field.

I continued on toward the bakery and Cora walked along with me. A crow flew overhead and Annie pointed at it and then said, “Caw, caw.”

I smiled at her and then watched as the crow landed in an elm tree.

Cora glanced toward the path through the woods to their house. “Tom's coming over to say goodbye too if he can get here in time. He's hoping you might be able to return soon, once Ella's
grossmammi
is better.”

I hesitated, wishing I could tell Cora the truth and trust her to relay it to her son for me, but it wouldn't be fair to reject a suitor via his mother.
He needed to hear it straight from me. “If he doesn't make it, tell him I'll write.”

“I will.”

Annie wiggled and obviously wanted down. “Ella's going to miss you,” Cora said and then to her daughter, added, “And Rosalee too. We'll come back and pay them both a visit after we finish our chores.”

After one last hug, Cora and Annie veered off toward the woods, and I continued on to the front of the bakery.

Just as I reached for the doorknob, however, I heard a man calling my name from behind. I stiffened, recognizing Tom.

“So you're really going,” he called out.

I nodded, stepping toward him.

“But you'll be back, right? And we can pick up where we left off?” He stopped in front of me, a little too close for my comfort.

I shook my head. “I'm so sorry, Tom, but I'm afraid my interest doesn't match yours.” Trying to adopt a lighter tone, I added, “Although I have been flattered by your attention.”

Pain flashed across his features, but then he straightened his back and shrugged his shoulders in indifference.

“Whatever. You'll be missing me soon enough. See you around, Iz.” He gave a halfhearted bow, almost sarcastic in its execution. Then he turned on his heel and walked back the way he had come. I almost felt sorry for him. I hoped he would find someone soon. As for myself, I wondered, and not for first time, if I could ever love anyone but Zed.

I highly doubted it.

The front portion of the bakery was empty. I put my bag down and moved to the counter, letting Ella know I was there.

She appeared from the back, drying her hands on her apron. “Aw, Izzy. How can I thank you? I don't know what we would have done without you.”

“I think you would have managed.”

I thanked her not just for her wisdom and the good example she'd set for me, but also for our conversation the day before. “I feel a trillion times better about caring for Frannie now,” I told her. The truth really could set a person free. I marveled that just realizing one missing piece of what was
going on inside my head could bring such healing. My fears hadn't gone away, but somehow they seemed much more manageable now.

She came around from the counter and hugged me, her belly brushing against my side. “Take care. And thank you again for helping out with
Mammi
.”

I nodded, unable to speak. She walked me to the front door of the bakery, where I retrieved my bag before stepping out into the cold behind her. Luke had brought the buggy up. She went to his side, and he looked down toward her as I climbed up to the bench, turning away from their tender gaze.

I settled onto the seat and then took one last look around. As we headed off, my eyes took in the house, the garden, the barn, and even the woods dividing the land. I'd be thankful my entire life for the time I'd spent at the Home Place and for all that I'd learned here.

Even if some of the lessons were harder and more painful than others.