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Authors: Mindy Starns Clark

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BOOK: The Amish Seamstress
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“If crash means sleep, then by all means, feel free. Better yet, why don't you use one of the empty bedrooms upstairs?”

Lexie thanked her and then Klara said to come on over when she was ready. “I'm going to go ice my back.”

After she left, Lexie offered to spell me. “You could go for a walk,” she said. “Or have some time in your room.”

That's when I realized I hadn't had much space to myself, but I hadn't missed it either. Sitting with Frannie was so peaceful that I hadn't needed my usual quota of quiet.

Nevertheless, I took Lexie up on her offer, grabbing a pen and paper and then stopping in the entryway to slip on my boots and cape. I'd been thinking about Abigail's chapbook and the minute possibility that a copy might have ended up in a local library or museum or historical society somehow. When I'd mentioned that to Verna, back when we first discovered the chapbook, she'd told me it wasn't likely. But now, with nowhere else to look, I decided to give it a shot anyway, just in case.

I stepped onto the pathway, taking in the vast pewter sky that looked as if it might send down a snowstorm at any time. I headed straight to the
barn, to the bench where Alexander and Klara kept their phone. Thankfully, a phone book was next to it and I opened it, looking for places to contact and then making a list of local historical societies and museums. I didn't want to take time to call now, and I was never all that comfortable using a phone anyway, so I decided I would give the list to Zed once he got home and let him follow up on it.

As I left, some movement caught my eye, and I turned and spotted Alexander at the far outside corner of the barn, praying. I hurried on, not wanting him to see me. I veered off to the left, breathing in the cold air as I reached the trail along the creek. It was too muddy and the water was too high to walk beside it, so finally I came to a stop, exhaling slowly, the vapor from my breath swirling in front of my face.

I enjoyed the quiet for a long moment, thinking about the sight of Alexander on his knees before God. I knew he had forgiven Giselle for all she had done to him and Klara back then, which just went to show what a good man he was. No doubt, today's prayer was for his wife, for her anxiety over the return of the sister who had wrought such havoc in their home so long ago.

On the other hand, I thought, if not for Giselle and all that she'd done back then, Klara and Alexander would never have had the opportunity to raise Ada. Perhaps as he prayed for his wife to have peace in this coming situation, he might also be adding in just a little thanks too for the blessing of the wonderful daughter she had become to them both.

The sound of a buggy coming down the lane urged me back to the
daadi haus
. Ada and her children had arrived, and I didn't want to miss them greeting Lexie for anything.

Alexander caught up with me by the time I reached the buggy in front of the main house, and he took the reins from Ada. I helped little Abe down. His hat fell off as he landed on the ground, revealing his dark curly hair. I patted him on the head and then swung Mel and Mat down too.

Christy climbed out of the buggy last. At seventeen, she was truly beautiful with her strawberry blond hair and brown eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes. She moved toward me gracefully with a cheery hello, and then she took Abe's little hand as we headed to the
daadi haus
, with Mel and Mat right behind.

“Remember,” Ada said to the smaller children. “Inside voices.
Mammi
is very ill. We need to be extra considerate. After we've visited a while, you can help your grandfather with the chores.”

Abe nodded his head and the girls spoke in agreement behind us. Before we reached the porch, Lexie bounded out of the little house.

“I thought I heard voices out here!”

Ada rushed into her sister's arms. Christy and Abe were next in line, and Lexie
oohed
and
aahed
over them both. Mel and Mat hung back a little until Lexie said, “Come on, you two.” The twins obeyed and she enveloped them in her arms.

When she finally pulled away, she said, “Let's go.
Mammi
is anxious to see all of you.”

I followed, pulling the door shut behind me. As they chatted, I headed to the kitchen to put on the kettle, thinking hot chocolate might be a good idea for the children. And I could make tea for Christy, Ada, and Lexie.

Soon, overhearing the conversation, I was drawn back into the living room.

Frannie was asking Ada, “How do you think Giselle will do here?”

Lexie put her arm around Ada, pulling her close.

Ada's back was to me, but I could hear her words. “I think she'll feel unsettled and with good reason, but I hope that after a few days she'll adjust.
Mamm
too.”


Ya
,” Frannie said. “I hope so.”

The kettle began to whistle, and I asked Ada if it would be all right if the children had hot chocolate. She said it would and I busied myself making it for them, putting the three mugs on Frannie's little kitchen table. I helped Abe onto a chair. Mel and Mat stood stirring their hot chocolate and then taking little sips. I added more milk to Abe's.

Then I started the kettle for tea.

“Do you think we can go over to
Mammi
Klara's now?” Mel whispered.

“Not until your mother says so,” I replied.

When the girls finished their hot chocolate, they carried their mugs to the sink. Then they came back to help their baby brother. Ada looked over and told them, “You can go find
Mammi
Klara. Tell her I'll be in soon.”

T
WENTY
-T
HREE

T
he afternoon grew quiet once Ada and the kids left and Lexie went to the main house for a nap. I couldn't help but wonder if it was the calm before the storm as I sat by Frannie's side. Around four Lexie returned to the
daadi haus
. It felt as if we were both holding our breath, waiting for Giselle to arrive. As the time drew closer, Lexie seemed to grow more and more nervous, something I hadn't expected of her. She was always so confident and assured. The truth was, I couldn't imagine what it must be like for her, the anticipation of meeting her birth mother, face-to-face, for the first time.

Would they look anything alike? Act anything alike? Be anything alike?

Lexie sat for a few minutes by Frannie's side, watching her sleep, but then she popped back up and checked her phone. A few minutes later she was up and getting a glass of water.

I tried to help distract her by chatting a little, about how Ella was doing and what the Home Place was like. Then about Frannie's stroke. And finally about the mild weather in Oregon.

Around five, Lexie called Marta “just to touch base.”

She listened for a moment and then said, “So you've left the airport?”

She listened again and then said, “All right. See you in an hour or two.” She turned to me as she hung up and explained. “Giselle is with her but traffic on the Blue Route is bumper to bumper. They'll be here as soon as they can, and they'll pick up pizza.”

She slipped her phone back into her pocket. “I'll go tell Aunt Klara. And let Ada know to come back over around seven.”

I felt sympathetic toward Lexie, but I knew there was nothing I could do except prepare for the imminent crowd of people. I cleared off the counters to make room for a buffet and then rummaged through Frannie's cupboards and found a stack of paper plates and enough paper cups for everyone. Then I pulled a handful of napkins from the drawer and put them on the counter too. Marta had brought fresh veggies the day before—carrots, celery, cucumbers, and broccoli—just for me, but I cut those up to share with everyone and then heated some soup for Frannie, even though she was sleeping. Then I sat back down and waited.

When Lexie returned I gave her my chair and went into the kitchen, deciding to scrub the cupboard doors to keep busy. But soon after she retreated to Frannie's room, probably to count off the minutes in private.

At seven fifteen footsteps were heard on the porch. I froze, anticipating the moment I'd waited for, even though I had no right to witness it and no actual connection to it. I was just relieved Lexie would get to meet her birth mother without the whole family gathered around. Even Frannie, though here, was asleep.

The door swung open and Marta walked in, carrying three large, flat boxes. I stepped forward and took the pizzas from her.

“This is Giselle,” Marta said. “Giselle, Izzy.”

A woman appeared in the doorway. Thin and short, she looked nothing like either Marta or Klara, and not just because her uncovered hair was red with gold highlights and spiked. She wore skinny jeans and boots, a long leather coat, and the most beautiful scarf I'd ever seen. It was orange and fuchsia and scarlet and looked as if it had been hand knit by a child, but perfectly so.

There was something intelligent about her that reminded me of both Ada and Lexie, but she didn't necessarily look like them, either.

“I'm pleased to meet you,” I managed to say, nodding my head over the pizza boxes.

“Likewise,” Giselle answered, but I could see her eyes moving from me to her mother across the room. If she hadn't seen the woman in twenty-eight years, she was probably quite shocked at how old Frannie looked now. Giselle managed to hide her reaction well, but I could tell the sight had thrown her.

Before we could wake the sleeping woman, the door to the bedroom swung open and Lexie came walking out, talking on the phone as she did. When she reached the living room, she looked up and then froze, her eyes locked on Giselle.

“I have to go,” she managed to murmur into the phone, and then she turned it off and slid it in her pocket.

Looking far more confident than she was probably feeling on the inside, she stepped toward the startled redhead. They stood there for a long moment, Lexie towering over her more diminutive mother.

Then the two of them did an uncomfortable sort of dance, each starting to shake hands, then not, and then finally meeting in an awkward embrace.

When they pulled apart, Lexie said, “I'm so pleased to finally meet you.”

I swallowed hard to keep the lump from rising in my throat. Marta dabbed at her eyes.

Before they could say or do anything else, the door opened again and in came Klara, followed by Alexander. Again I practically held my breath as Klara simply said, “Hello, Giselle.”

She hugged her sister quickly and then stepped aside. Alexander extended his hand, saying he was pleased to see her.

“Likewise,” was her reply.

It was all so stiff and awkward that I was glad at the moment Frannie began to stir. The entire group shifted toward her. I put the pizzas on the kitchen counter and then hurried to the raise Frannie's bed so she could see Giselle. As I did, her eyes opened and then quickly filled with tears.

“She's here,” Frannie whispered.


Ya
,” I said, releasing the button once the bed was high enough.

Then I stepped away from the bed, making room for the daughter who had finally come home.

Frannie reached for Giselle's hand and held on to it. Neither said anything, but Giselle leaned forward, burying her head against Frannie's neck. Marta and Lexie stood at the end of the bed, hands on the railing, watching the two. Klara and Alexander stood behind them. I retreated to the kitchen, overcome with emotion. My
mamm
and I had our share of problems, and she didn't understand me, but I couldn't imagine going twenty-eight years without seeing her.

As Ada, Will, and the children entered the
daadi haus
, I grabbed one of the napkins off the counter and wiped my eyes.

Giselle pulled herself away from her mother, turned to look toward the door, and darted across the room to her youngest daughter, taking her in her arms and hugging Abe at the same time.

Ada introduced the twins, Mel and Mat, and then Giselle hugged Christy warmly—they had obviously bonded when the girl had traveled to Switzerland with Ada. Then she wrapped her arms around Will. He'd been there too, and it was evident Giselle felt safe with him.

BOOK: The Amish Seamstress
10.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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