Authors: Beverly Lewis
Tags: #FIC042000, #FIC053000, #FIC026000, #Amish—Fiction, #Sisters—Fiction, #Lancaster County (Pa.)—Fiction, #Christian fiction
“Was there another reason you left, Aendi?”
Tilly refused to delve into that. She couldn’t bring herself to say that her father despised her, or close to it. There was no need to risk introducing
that
to the Amish grapevine today.
F
ollowing her nephews’ car-driving adventure, Tilly finally arrived at Daed’s house. Ruth must have seen her arrive because she came running from the clothesline, wearing jeans. It was
Weschdaag
—
washday—after all, and Ruthie had evidently just finished hanging out the washing for Mamm.
Bless
her
!
“Josie’s already here,” Ruth said, greeting her. “We hung out the washing together.”
“It was a busy morning for me, too, in more ways than one.” Tilly felt bad about not showing up earlier, but she was still smiling inwardly at the unanticipated encounter with Caleb and Benny.
Cows were lowing in the meadow near the fence as Tilly and Ruth headed inside. She was greeted cheerfully by Josie, who had kitchen utensils scattered over the counters, her hair bun covered by a plain blue kerchief instead of her white
Kapp
.
“Ruthie and I had fun telling humorous stories from childhood while we hung up the clothes,” Josie said, eyes dancing.
Ruth looked like she might burst. “We sure did.”
“Sorry I missed that,” Tilly said.
Josie recounted the time she and Tilly had climbed into the haymow in her father’s barn and discovered a nest of barn swallows. “Remember that?”
“Those birds were awfully cozy up there, as I recall. It was the middle of July, right?”
Josie nodded, grinning. “We named ’em all . . . then decided on names for all ten of our future children, too. Five boys and five girls for each of us.”
Ruth glanced at Tilly but didn’t say a word.
The names Jenya and Tavani were never on
that
list
,
thought Tilly. “Where’s Mamm?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Upstairs counting quilts,” Josie said, her eyes searching Tilly’s. “She’s deciding how many she’ll need to take with her.”
Ruth added, “She says one of us can start boxing up the hundreds of canned goods in the cold cellar, too.”
“We’ll get to all of that, for sure,” Tilly said, removing her jacket and putting her purse under it on the wood peg around the corner. “It’s nice of you to help out, Josie.”
“I wanted to spend more time with you both.” There was a glimmer in Josie’s pretty eyes.
“Where’s your suitcase?” Ruthie asked.
“In the car,” Tilly said softly, glancing at Josie and groaning inwardly.
“Are you . . . ?”
“Same old issue.” It was Tilly’s code—her sister would know what she meant.
Ruth frowned and shook her head slightly, stealing a glimpse at Josie, who was back to sorting utensils. “Tiptoe lightly, is what I’d suggest. You can leave your things out in the car till you’re more certain.”
Tilly agreed, then moved to the opposite side of the kitchen, taking an empty box and sitting on the floor in front of the corner cupboard. She marveled at running into Caleb and Benny, thankful the car had been returned in one piece. Hopefully that was the end of their keen fascination with it. But she doubted it.
Josie asked Ruthie about her job as a medical records assistant, and Ruthie explained that she’d already called her boss this morning about staying longer.
Tuning them out, Tilly wished there was a way to sneak upstairs. Not necessarily to work alongside Mamm, but to get back in Anna’s room . . . especially if she decided not to stay tonight, after all. Truth be told, she could not put the letter in Anna’s drawer out of her mind. It was such an unlikely thing for her mother to do. Then it occurred to her: Was the letter the reason for the locked door?
“
Nee
, ain’t a
gut
idea to confront Tilly with any of that,” Melvin told Joseph when he stopped by on his way to the smithy’s. “Just ain’t.”
Joseph shot back, “But there’s no tellin’ if she’ll ever come back to the valley again.”
Melvin looked at his younger brother by four years; Joseph was all disheveled, like he hadn’t slept too well last night. His oily bangs clung to his high forehead. “I’d like to suggest that if you haven’t said whatever’s on your mind to her in the last eight years, there’s no need to start now.”
Joseph frowned, his blue eyes intense. “It’s almost like you think Tilly’s in the right.”
Melvin regarded him solemnly. “Now, Joseph, you know
that’s not what I’m saying. I just wonder what the point is in mentionin’ anything now.”
Joseph opened his mouth as if to speak, but Melvin hurried on. “It’s time we open our hearts more, I daresay. Judge folk less. Treat others like you wanna be treated.”
Joseph pulled on his tan suspenders. “
Puh!
You’re soundin’ too much like Tilly used to, back before she left here. There’s nothin’ wrong with clearing the air.”
“When it stirs up more trouble?” Melvin stopped to cough. “Friction rips families apart, Joseph. It causes more strife, and the whole thing just goes on in ugly circles. We sure don’t need more of that.”
“In any case, I have a few things to say to Tilly, and that’s that.” His brother turned heel and nearly ran to his wagon.
“Won’t ya pray ’bout it?” Melvin called to him.
“Fer was?”
“Whatever happened to ‘a soft answer turneth away wrath’?” Melvin replied as kindly as he could, sorry Joseph had decided to stop by, turning the whole morning to the color gray.
Ruth was starting to fret. Tilly seemed distracted as she kept to the corner of the kitchen.
Josie kept glancing over her shoulder at Tilly, making Ruthie feel even more ill at ease. She felt sorry for Josie, with her once-strong ties to Tilly. But Ruth also felt tenderhearted toward her sister.
Ruth believed that if she could just talk to her sister in private, she might be able to find out what was gnawing at her.
Surely
it has something to do with Daed.
Hadn’t Tilly hinted as much earlier?
Maybe if Mamm occupies Josie
somehow
,
I can
talk to Tilly after the noon meal,
she thought. No doubt dinner would be uncomfortable with Daed and Tilly again at the same table. Yet with Josie present, things might be less tense.
“My husband heard from Will Kauffman this morning,” Josie said just then, her voice soft. “Before breakfast.”
Tilly made a little gasp and left the room.
“Why are you telling me?” Ruth blushed as she realized she’d snapped.
“I wasn’t sure if I should mention this,” Josie said, hesitating before saying that Will had somehow heard that Josie was coming here to help today. “He wanted me to pass along word to you.”
This was reminiscent of the Amish life Ruth had known, at least amongst the womenfolk—passing word from one person to the next in order to reach the intended ear.
“Will wants you to know that his friend Arie’s gone back to Ohio. And she won’t be returning here, neither. That’s just what he said, according to Sam.”
Clear out of the blue?
Ruth thought, but she couldn’t let this news faze her.
Besides,
why should I care what Will wants?
She shrugged the whole thing away. Her life had taken a fork in the road—and a major one, at that. And it did not include him. “Not sure how this pertains to me,” she said.
“That’s what I thought,” Josie replied.
Ruth glanced out the kitchen window, standing now to take a short break. She noticed Melvin’s sons, Caleb and Benny, peering into Tilly’s car, of all things. Then each boy placed his hands almost reverently on the top of the hood and grinned at the other as if they somehow shared a secret.
When Caleb caught Ruth watching, the boys darted away like they’d been caught stealing or worse, their faces the color
of new beets. They walked briskly up the path toward the turkey and chicken pens, and when her father came out to meet them, she figured he was expecting them.
The last time she’d seen these nephews before leaving the valley had been at a watermelon feast over at Melvin and Susannah’s place. After they’d eaten their fill, a number of the family had decided to sing some faster hymns, like youth at a Singing. As Ruth recalled, they were well into the third song when her brother Chester had decided to zero in on Ruth, coming over to sit with her, asking probing questions about Tilly. He’d heard she was getting quite a lot of mail from Massachusetts, and also made it clear that he wasn’t any too keen on her keeping in touch with their wayward sister.
“She’s a bad influence on you
,”
he’d said quite adamantly.
“And you know it.”
His words had soured an occasion otherwise marked by sweet watermelon and jovial talk. She’d been thankful at the time for cheerful Caleb and Benny, who had been two of the stronger voices during the hymn singing. It had been later that day that she’d heard through the grapevine that Melvin was starting to have his hands full with his eldest son, Caleb, at just fourteen.
So now, after seeing Caleb and Benny gawking at Tilly’s car, Ruthie wondered if perhaps they were unsettled about their future. She believed they would find their way eventually, with God’s help and their father’s loving direction. As long as they were sincere in seeking the Lord as their Redeemer and true Guide.
“
Gott
works in ways
we can’t always see,”
Dawdi Lantz had often said.
“Never forget, nor doubt it.”
Mamm came into the kitchen from upstairs, and Ruth went to pour some cold meadow tea for her, as well as for Josie and Tilly.
Mamm accepted the drink. “
Denki
, dear.” She took a sip. “Would ya mind taking some hot tea out to your father?” She directed Ruth to put it in a thermos. “He’ll be expecting it.”
Ruth wondered if this was the herbal tea Mamm was convinced was helping Daed. “I’ll take it whenever you’re ready.”
At that moment, Mamm glanced toward the front room, where Tilly evidently was, and a small frown came and went.
Ruth wouldn’t reveal that her sister seemed to have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, nor would she blow the whistle on Caleb and Benny for their curiosity over the car.
“Life is too short
to tattle,”
Uncle Abner had told her long ago. And thinking suddenly of her father, who was waiting for his specialty tea, Ruth sighed.
Much too short.
———
Tilly had left the kitchen, upset at Josie’s reference to Will Kauffman. She yearned for some sunshine and the feel of the wind on her face. She’d once ridden an English neighbor’s bicycle down a nearby hill, her arms outstretched.
Glorious,
she recalled the summer afternoon. Daed had never found out. Even now, it was one of her private triumphs.
We all have secrets we keep to ourselves
,
she thought and again wondered why Mamm had written her a letter that she’d then hidden. It was nearly impossible to fathom, and she was eager to see the envelope once more—enough so to consider staying just so she could sleep in Anna’s room. Maybe once she got herself settled, she’d look again. No matter what, she’d have to wait.
Walking across the backyard with Daed’s thermos, Ruth remembered being little and accidentally dropping the mail
near the spot where she was presently walking. She’d so wanted to surprise her father, who’d witnessed the mishap and came running out the barn door, repeatedly saying it was all right. He’d scooped her into his arms and carried her, crying, back to Mamm in the warm kitchen. Later, he’d gone back to pick up all the letters that had fallen from her little hands.