An Amish Family Reunion (21 page)

Eli took his time, studying each double-page drawing to absorb every minute detail. “Considering how good these are, I’d have to say you’re not getting ahead of yourself. I love the progression of expressions on the Holstein’s face. That little cow seems to have learned a valuable lesson about friendship.”

“That will be our story’s theme: Everyone needs friends, and in order to have them you must be one.”

Eli tipped up her chin. “My life improved immeasurably that day in Berlin, waiting for a bus to come.”

Phoebe blushed but didn’t look away. “I’m rather glad we struck up a conversation.” She reached out to pinch his cheek.

Eli ducked his head, embarrassed at long last. “I have news for you too. You weren’t the only one not letting moss grow beneath your feet.” He extracted a folded sheet from his trouser pocket and opened it for her inspection.

She read the unfamiliar name and address aloud. “Who is this woman who lives in Kidron?”

She’s a Mennonite friend of Rose. She’s studying landscape architecture or something like that in college, but the important part is that she has a computer with that fancy software program I told you about. She can scan your artwork and then add whatever color or special effects you would like.”

“I don’t know what I would like, so why don’t you do the choosing?”

“I’d be happy to if that’s what you prefer. She said I could experiment with just the tap of a mouse…I mean, a button. Sort of like seeing what a person would look like with a dozen different hairdos. I can’t wait to take your drawings to her house.”

She nodded with more assurance than she felt, but as with most things in life, she knew each journey started with a single step. “Did you tell your family about what we’re doing?” she whispered.

“Only Rose, not my parents. I guess I’m closer to her than my other sisters. She was downright encouraging. I wonder why she’s buttering me up?” He scratched his clean-shaven jaw.

“Could it be she just wants you to be happy?”

He pondered this and laughed. “Maybe, or she wants me to beat the carpets for her, or perhaps introduce her to everyone I know at the auction barn. At twenty-three, Rose would love to get hitched. I’m only nineteen. I have an hour or two before I need to meet the woman of my dreams.”

Phoebe pulled the giant book back. “Enough of your silly talk. I’ll check the fiction listings for which publishers produce children’s gift books. You write down what I tell you. Time’s a-wasting.”

Eli straightened up and positioned his pen over a fresh page of his notebook. For the rest of the afternoon, he carefully copied the information for twenty-two publishing houses that might turn their dream into reality. When they were leaving, Phoebe returned the materials to the librarian and thanked her profusely.

“I’m happy to help,” Mrs. Carter answered. “And this book on crafting children’s fiction can be checked out.”

“All right, I’ll take it home.” Phoebe handed the woman her library card to swipe.

“One day closer,” she said, placing the book into a plastic sack. “See you next week.”

In the parking lot Eli pumped her hand and then hurried toward his own buggy. “I just remembered I was supposed to go to the grocery store for my mom and still haven’t done so. I’ll see you in two weeks, Phoebe. Next week I’ll drive up to Kidron on my day off.” His buggy left in a flurry of dust and a scattering of back lot gravel.

Phoebe traveled home at a far more leisurely pace, content to replay everything Eli had said over in her mind.
“I have an hour or two before I need to meet the woman of my dreams.”
Was he talking about her? Once again she had been stymied by his teasing and cryptic comments. But what did it matter? She wouldn’t turn eighteen for several more weeks, so she had plenty of time to think about courting. Perhaps it would be a blessing if she never married, considering how much she hated cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry. Yet Eli was the only man she knew who seemed not overly concerned about a perfectly run household. She could just picture the two of them creating stories on the back porch while supper burned in the oven, laundry overflowed the hamper, and weeds overran their vegetable garden and farm fields.

Phoebe grinned at the mental image. Marriage was something she considered as seriously as traveling across the country in a hot air balloon. That is, until she met Eli. But a business partnership was very different than wedded bliss. In the Amish community, marriage was for a lifetime, while their partnership could be dissolved upon receipt of their twenty-second rejection letter. Mrs. Carter had explained about queries, rejections, and how long it usually took for publishers to make up their mind on books. The librarian also explained what agents could do for writers, but she assured Phoebe that they should be able to get their work seen without one. Only discouragement could ever steal away her dream, according to her new mentor, right before she dumped a load of research materials onto the table. Phoebe vowed never to become discouraged, no matter what the future held for her and Eli. With faith in God and in herself, how could a book that teaches children kindness and tolerance possibly fail?

That night at supper, both her parents chatted about the Miller family reunion next month. Ben named the friends he would invite, while Mom planned what she would cook ahead and store in the propane freezer, and Dad considered what advice to seek from Matthew regarding horses. As the conversation around the table continued, Phoebe retreated into her private world of ornery cows mired in river mud.

“I said, how goes the
kinner
book?” asked Seth, scraping another mound of yellow beans onto his plate.

She blinked several times. “
Gut
. I have a picture to go with each scene of the story.” Her forkful of roast beef hovered in midair.

“Your mom told me you were courting Eli Riehl. I must say I was surprised, but in a good way. I know Bob Riehl from the grain elevator. He’s a fine man with a practical head on his shoulders. I’m sure his son has the same good common sense.”

She ate the forkful, taking time to consider her reply. “
Jah
, Eli is quite a thinker, but I wouldn’t exactly describe us as courting. We’re more or less partners on our little venture.”

Seth met Hannah’s gaze and both started smiling. “You two wouldn’t be the first shy people who broke the ice with a joint project as a diversion. But I must say writing a book is a new one for me. Usually it’s a shared vegetable stand or maybe partnering up to breed dogs for sale.”

Phoebe stared at her father. “This isn’t a diversion,
daed
. We’re truly writing a book.”

Seth snorted while loading his fork with potatoes. “What would you two have to write about—your weekend trip to Niagara Falls? Lots of water flying over the edge making one big splash at the bottom, day after day until the end of time? Might be a pretty site, but it would be a rather short story.” He laughed heartily.

Phoebe crossed her arms, focusing on her mother. Hannah shrugged her shoulders. “I had to tell him how you two met. Your dad was curious because you seldom leave the farm. But we’re both pleased as punch that you’re cour—I mean,
consulting
with Eli on your drawings.” Hannah smiled as she walked to the refrigerator for the pitcher of iced tea.

Phoebe swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “It’s no secret how we met, but I want you both to understand we’re serious about this. Our story isn’t a vacation memoir. It’s a children’s book that illustrates good Christian behavior. We intend to send our work out to various publishers to see if one will print and distribute the book.”

Now it was her parents’ turn to stare. “For what purpose?” Seth asked.

“To sell, of course, to parents and grandparents like the other books in the Christian bookstore in town.”

“Amish people don’t write books,” he stated, drawing his brows together into one bushy line.

“Actually, a few Amish people have written books with assistance from their Mennonite friends,” said Hannah, refilling everyone’s glasses.

Phoebe smiled with gratitude at her.

Seth quickly drank down his tea and then scrambled to his feet. “I have evening chores to do. I’ll let your mother talk some sense into you, daughter. Let’s go outside, Ben.”

Hannah waited until the screen door slammed shut behind them. “It will be very difficult for an Amish pair to get their book published. But I don’t wish to discourage you—life holds enough disappointment for all of us. So good luck, and any time you want to discuss this, I’m ready to lend an ear.” Her smile held only tender patience.

“
Danki, mamm
,” she murmured. Right now, that was all Phoebe needed.

Leah clutched her belly with one hand, while her other gripped the armrest for dear life. “I’m taking it as slowly as I safely can,” said Lily Davis. “The road to Baltic is loaded with potholes.”

“It’s not your fault. They’ll work all summer to patch these roads, finishing by fall and just in time for the winter damage to start again.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to see a
real
doctor? I know a woman gynecologist in Wooster who would be happy to squeeze you in.”

“No, thank you,” said Leah, holding her breath as Lily’s truck rounded a curve. “The nurse-midwife at the Amish birthing center will be real enough for me.”

“Did you use that home pregnancy kit I dropped off in your mailbox?” Lily squinted at her from under the brim of her ball cap. Leah couldn’t remember ever seeing the English woman without the red OSU hat.

“
Jah
, I used it.” Leah lowered her chin to stare at the floorboards. The act of urinating on a plastic stick still embarrassed her a week later, even though she’d been alone in the bathroom and had told no one the results.

Lily waited for further information as the modern brick building where Plain women went to deliver their babies appeared up ahead, but Leah remained quiet. After a moment, she asked, “Did you miss your regular monthly?”

Leah peered out the window while nodding her head. Only when the truck braked to a stop in the parking lot under a nice shady tree did she release her death grip on the armrest. “Thank you for driving me here, Lily. Are you sure you don’t mind waiting during the examination? I know you’re busy while you’re back for the summer. I could call the hired van to take me home.”

“Are you kidding? I brought my laptop to do paperwork. If you’re inside for six hours, it still wouldn’t be enough time for me to catch up.” Lily patted Leah’s hand. “Don’t be afraid. It’ll be only women in there. And all of them have probably been down this road many times before.”

Impulsively, Leah hugged Lily and then stepped out of the vehicle. Walking the fifty-foot distance to the front door, she experienced a jolt of sheer joy. Was she actually expecting a
boppli
after four years of marriage? She had feared it wasn’t in God’s plan for her to become a mother. She knew Jonah wanted children very much, yet he was too gentle a man to bring up the subject. How would he take the news, if indeed there were good news to tell? As she walked inside the air-conditioned, spotlessly clean clinic, one rather selfish thought crossed her mind:
If I am pregnant, I won’t have to endure any more trips back to Hancock
.

One and a half hours later, after being prodded, poked with needles, and examined internally in a rather bizarre position, Leah emerged from the birthing center with a far livelier pace. She carried a packet of papers, several brochures, and two booklets to read during the coming weeks.

Lily Davis jumped out of the driver’s side. “Well? What’s the news?” she yelled. Since the parking lot was empty—even the nearest cow was half a mile away—Leah hollered back, “She said, ‘Yes, I am, maybe even seven weeks along!’” Leah hurried to the truck as fast as a pregnant Amish woman dared to run.

Lily followed no such rules of decorum. She met Leah halfway, wrapped both arms around her and squeezed. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you and Jonah. Now let’s get you home so you can share your good news.”

Leah allowed Lily to tuck her into the passenger side solicitously, but she drew the line when Lily produced a lap blanket. “Don’t be silly. It’s eighty-five degrees. I won’t get cold between here and Winesburg. As a vet, you deliver babies all the time.”

“Only calves, colts, and fillies. No humans, but considering how long this drive is when you’re ready to deliver, you might be my first. You’d better call me the moment you start labor. Fortunately, my practice is nearby.”