by Amy Lillard
“Cephas Ebersol is nothing if not a fair man,” Abbie said.
Jenna wished she had her confidence. “I don’t know.” She barely knew the man. She barely knew the bishop back home. Only that he was the one to ask when you wanted something different from the rest of the community. Like a bike or a cell phone. Jenna had neither.
“I do.” Abbie smiled and kissed the top of the baby’s head. “Wait and see.”
A few stomach-churning seconds later, Titus came through the side door that led into the barnyard. “I hope you haven’t changed your mind.”
Jenna cradled the baby close and jumped to her feet. “Really?” She couldn’t give her heart permission to soar. Not yet. She needed one more reassurance that everything was going to work out.
“Really.” He smiled. He really was a handsome man. And a good man too. Abbie was blessed to have him. But Jenna had the feeling if you said that to her, Abbie would say it was the other way around.
He came into the living area and placed one hand on his wife’s shoulder. She leaned her head in to touch his arm. The action was chaste, but intimate all in the same motion. And suddenly Jenna wanted a little of that for herself. With Buddy, of course.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” he said, “but first . . . which one is that?” He pointed to the baby Jenna held.
“That’s Nancy,” Abbie said.
Jenna shook her head. “You have Nancy. This is Carrie.”
Abbie gave her a strange look. “I’m pretty sure I have Carrie. See?” She freed the baby’s left hand from the swaddling, then turned almost as pink as the blanket wrapped around baby Nancy. There was no leather cord around the baby’s wrist.
“I thought Carrie had the cord. You know, C for Carrie; C for cord.”
Abbie shook her head at herself. “Jah. That’s right. Carrie has the cord, and Mamm can’t tell them apart.”
“Don’t worry about that. You’ll be able to soon enough. As they grow, they’ll change, and they will look like themselves rather than each other.” Jenna knew. There were identical twins in their district in Kansas. Jenna was about the only one who could tell them apart, including their mother. But one was a sweet, docile child while the other had a mischievous sparkle in her eyes that was as plain as the nose on her face. And that was how Jenna could tell one from the other. But until Abbie’s twins gained their own personalities, a leather cord would have to do.
Titus leaned and kissed the top of Carrie’s head, then did the same for her sister. “Now,” he said, straightening and heading for the door, “time to get back to work.”
Titus left through the side door and Jenna breathed a sigh of relief. The bishop had said yes. She had never felt happier or more grown-up. She had a job. A place to live, and she was on her way to independence. The thought was almost too big for her head. And it was impossible to smile enough.
Carrie started fussing in her arms. Jenna wrapped her a bit and took her over to the playpen. “I think she needs some toy time.”
Jenna placed her in the mesh-sided playpen and cranked the brightly colored mobile. Carrie kicked and cooed as the music played and the hearts, stars, and moons gently spun around.
“I wonder what she thinks of that,” Jenna mused, watching the baby and her fascination with the mobile.
“I don’t know.” Abbie shifted Nancy to her shoulder and gently rubbed her back. “I almost got one that was black and white.”
Jenna made a face. “A black and white mobile?”
“Jah, they say babies can’t see colors, so the black and white ones are more stimulating.”
“I don’t know how much of that I believe,” Jenna said. “There was a baby I watched in Kansas and he loved everything green. Green toys, green dresses, green cookies.” She laughed. “He was just a little older than the girls and I know he could see color.”
Abbie finished burping Nancy and brought her over to the playpen for toy time with her sister.
“Here.” Jenna took the baby and unwrapped the blanket from around her. She kissed the top of her downy head and laid her next to her sister.
“You don’t think they should have separate playpens?” Abbie asked.
“You had a brother, didn’t you?” Jenna asked, but then she immediately regretted it.
Abbie’s eyes fogged over with grief. “Jah, my twin, Alvin. He was killed in a car crash a few years ago.”
“Did you want to be separated from him?”
She shook her head.
“Then why separate these two?”
Abbie smiled. “You’re smarter than people credit you for.”
Jenna shook her head. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” Abbie slipped one arm around her and hugged Jenna to her side. “And you’re good with them.”
That was one compliment she knew how to take. “Thank you.”
Abbie nodded instead of saying you’re welcome, but didn’t let Jenna go. “I hope one day you have lots of babies of your own.”
“I would like that,” Jenna said. Being an only child was hard. She had always wanted a sibling and had always planned to have a big family of her own. But all that was before the accident. “But—”
“No buts,” Abbie said. “Now let’s get the men something to eat before they come in and accuse us of lollygagging.”
Jenna laughed and allowed Abbie to lead her to the kitchen.
Chapter Sixteen
What other choice did she have?
Charlotte pulled the tractor to a stop in front of the clapboard house and cut the engine. A biscuit-colored dog, a puppy really, came bounding from the barn to greet her. He seemed friendly enough and didn’t bark when she got down from her seat. She scratched him behind the ears and waited as she saw Buddy and another man coming from the barn.
“Hi.” Buddy waved at her with all the enthusiasm he had. Or at least it looked that way. If there was one thing she could say about Buddy Miller, it was he was a friendly person. Could she imagine Jenna spending the rest of her life with him? No. But in all fairness, she really hadn’t expected Jenna to spend her life with anyone.
“Hi, Buddy.” She nodded to the man behind him. “Titus.”
He dipped his chin in return.
“I brought some of Jenna’s things.” She managed to get the words out even with the huge lump of misery in her throat. She pointed to the trailer behind her tractor.
“I’ll get it unloaded,” Buddy said and went around to the trailer and started pulling out boxes and bags. Almost everything Jenna owned crammed into boxes and bags. It all looked so small, and she wondered if it truly was that small or it only seemed that way. Either direction made her sad. How could someone’s entire life take up so little space?
“Where’s Jenna?” Charlotte asked.
Titus waved one hand toward the house. “Helping Abbie, I’m sure. Go on in,” he said. “They’re in there somewhere.”
“Thank you.” She started toward the house. Yes, she wanted to see Jenna, but honestly she needed to get away from the unpacking. It was miserable work watching Buddy pull Jenna’s life from the back of a trailer, one that used to be the bed of a pickup truck. Didn’t Jenna deserve better than that?
Should you have rented one of those fancy trailers from that place in town?
No. Her answer to herself was sure and swift. She had done all that she could. She could do no more.
She walked up the steps to the porch and knocked on the front door. A voice hollered something, and after those indistinguishable words came the sound of a baby crying.
Crying loudly.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong, from the sound of it.
She cautiously opened the door just a crack and peeked inside. “Jenna?”
No answer.
She looked back over her shoulder. Titus and Buddy were gone, no doubt into the dawdihaus with a load of Jenna’s things.
“Jenna?” she called again.
No answer from an adult, just the
persistent baby scream.
She walked from the front area to the living room.
Jenna and a baby were sitting quietly on the couch, the baby on her back shaking a set of overlarge plastic keys. Every so often she would put them or her fist into her mouth. It seemed she cared not which one.
“Jenna?”
She was on her feet in an instant, one hand over her heart as if to keep it in place. “Mamm! You scared me.”
“I’m sorry. I knocked but . . .”
“Nancy’s having a tough morning,” Jenna said by way of explanation.
“I take it that’s not Nancy,” Charlotte said.
“This is Carrie. She’s not quite as fussy. Are you, baby?” Jenna picked up the infant and blew little kisses into the curve of her chubby neck.
The baby squealed and laughed with delight. She was a tiny thing and Charlotte remembered that someone, maybe at church, maybe at the quilting circle, had said something about them coming early. But she had also heard that twins were oftentimes smaller babies just because they didn’t have the room one baby would. But something about that tiny baby, laughing and enjoying being held and kissed, was amazing to Charlotte. And she remembered all the times when Jenna was that age, so small, tiny, and perfect. Just the way God had made her.
And she tried her best not to be bitter that Jenna changed. Not at Jenna but at the circumstances and, jah, maybe at God. But only a little bit. She had been taught her entire life that God’s will prevailed on earth.
Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails.
And she had had so many plans. And now none of them would come true.
That’s not right, and you know it.
But the truth wasn’t something she could accept yet.
She had spent all these years trying to protect Jenna from the world, people, even herself, and all she had been doing was cutting her off from everyone.
Charlotte watched Jenna with the baby, how loving and caring she was, how natural. And for the first time, she could see what everyone had always said. Jenna was a natural mother. She was kind and caring. She might have a weak brain, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do enough to take care of a family.
Tears filled her eyes and there was a ringing in her ears.
“Jenna?”
The baby had stopped crying and the mother was holding her at the foot of the stairs. When had she come down? Why hadn’t she heard her?
“Abbie, this is my mother. You may have seen her at church.”
Abbie nodded. “I think so, jah.”
“But you are always busy, so we haven’t had time to talk.”
She nodded toward the kitchen. “We were just about to get the twins something to eat. Maybe I can find a cookie or something in there for the adults.”
Charlotte shook her head. She had managed to swallow back those first tears, but if she stayed much longer she was sure they would threaten again and this time she wouldn’t be able to stay them off.
“No, thank you,” she said. “Maybe some other time.”
Abbie looked slightly disappointed, but Charlotte couldn’t change her mind. She felt like a box of little black bombs had fallen on top of her head, like the cat in the cartoons that Jenna liked to watch in Walmart. Or maybe it was a box of anvils. She wasn’t sure why anyone would want a box of anvils, but she had learned long ago not to question the methods in Englisch entertainment.
“The men are putting your things in the dawdihaus,” Charlotte said. She gave Jenna a small hug, not too close since there was a baby between them. She kissed at the air close to Jenna’s cheek. Not on purpose, but because she missed. She had to get out of there. She needed fresh air and some time to process everything. And with the weight she felt on her heart, that might take some time indeed.
* * *
“I wish your mother could have stayed this afternoon,” Abbie said over supper.
It had been Jenna’s turn to cook while Abbie played with the babies and kept them happy. Well, mostly. Nancy still had a bee in her bonnet and fussed as if programmed to be unhappy every ten minutes.
No, there wasn’t really a bee and she wasn’t really programmed, she was just sensitive, Jenna believed. She had seen babies like that before who didn’t seem to be able to handle their world. Doors slamming, feet stomping, tractor engines, dinner triangles, almost anything could set them off. And they might cry for hours, the sound full of betrayal. Why did you let this happen to me?
Jenna understood. She had asked those very same questions of everyone around her when she had her accident. She had even wondered if perhaps it had been a mistake, that young man saving her life the way he did. Technically they told her that she was already gone. She wasn’t sure how that could be, dying one second and living the next, but the doctors told her that’s what happened, so she had to believe them.
But more than anything, she’d questioned God for a long time. Then she made peace with the situation. She was who she was now. And she wasn’t going to change. Not again. Not for anyone.
“I agree,” Jenna said. “I thought she was mad, then she acted okay, then she seemed kinda upset again.”
“Mad?” Buddy asked.
Jenna shook her head. “Just upset, like maybe her head started hurting or her stomach was rumbling.”
“Maybe her stomach was rumbling,” Buddy offered.
“I don’t know.” Jenna stirred her macaroni and cheese and wondered if her mother’s stomach was really rumbling.
“She seemed okay when she pulled up,” Titus said. “She was petting PJ.”
“She likes dogs,” Jenna said.
“Who doesn’t?” Buddy asked.
Jenna smiled. These were the times she enjoyed most. Suppertime, everyone sitting down together just being with each other. And it was enough. Even her mother and her mother’s strange moods couldn’t dampen their spirits. It just felt right.
And Abbie’s parents, Emmanuel and Priscilla, joined them at the table and all of a sudden Jenna got the family she had wanted. So many people sitting around, eating and sharing their day. It was something to see.
“Thank you again,” Jenna said, looking from Titus to Abbie.
“It’s us who should be thanking you,” Abbie said.
“And Buddy too. You’ve both been big assets these last couple of days. I’ve been saying little prayers that you won’t change your mind.”
Buddy laughed and almost choked on a bite of corn. He coughed, swallowed, then coughed again. “I love the camels. I’m not changing my mind.”
“And I love the babies,” Jenna said. “I’m not changing my mind either.”
“Good.” Abbie smiled at both of them. “Then this will all work out just fine.”
* * *
Jenna walked out onto the small porch and sat down on the steps. The babies had been put down for the night, though she knew from the last two days that they would be up again in a few hours. It was Priscilla’s turn. That was Abbie’s mother. Jenna liked Priscilla. She didn’t chatter about nothing. She was quiet and only seemed to talk when it was necessary. And Jenna liked that.
She liked Emmanuel King too. That was Abbie’s father. He looked like he had a devil chasing him all the time, but he wasn’t running. Neither one seemed happy. Like true happy. They seemed happy enough, but it was always mixed with a sadness that Jenna could almost see. Their son had died in a car crash a few years ago and Jenna supposed that was the cause.
“Hey, Jenna.”
She looked up in time to see Buddy crossing the yard from the barn. PJ romped at his feet, stopping every so often to smell something, then bounding after Buddy to catch up. As usual when she saw Buddy, her heart turned over in her chest. At least it felt like it. She gave him a smile and scooted over where he could sit next to her on the steps. He did, their legs brushing as he found his spot. She loved that. Feeling the warmth of him next to her. Was that love? She thought so, but she wasn’t ready to tell hi
m yet. Or maybe she believed that he wasn’t ready to hear it. Whatever it was, she managed to keep it to herself.
PJ wagged his tail with such force his back end was barely staying on the ground. Jenna reached out and scratched him behind one ear. That seemed to be his favorite spot.
“It is pretty out here,” Buddy said.
“Jah.” And it was. Pretty and peaceful.
“I like sitting here next to you.”
“I like sitting by you too.”
PJ, satisfied with the love he received from Jenna, flopped down at their feet as if watching to make sure nothing was going to bother them. He was a good dog.
Buddy paused, studied his hands for a moment, then stared across the yard. It was getting dark, but not so much that a person couldn’t see shadows moving across the land. “I think our parents are planning something.”
Jenna drew back. “What?” She hadn’t been certain as to what he would say to her next. But it surely wasn’t that. “Like a party?” That would be such fun.
“No. The opposite of a party.”
What was the opposite of a party? “I don’t understand,” Jenna said.
“Think about it this way. They tried to keep us apart, jah?”
“I suppose, jah.” They had, but she hated accusing them of such out loud.
“So we did what we felt we had to do.”
Jenna nodded. “We got jobs and even found new places to live.” She finished with a big grin. She was so proud of all they had done. And she was so thankful to Titus and Abbie for helping them do it.
“Jah.” He nodded as well, but his lips were pressed together as if he was trying not to let something escape his mouth. “And then they just quit demanding we stay away from each other.”
She stopped moving, even breathing. Was this true? Buddy wouldn’t lie to her, but she couldn’t believe that her mamm would be sneaky that way. “And what would this do?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t figured that part out yet.”
“Uh-uh.” Jenna shook her head. “They just gave up.” That had to be the reason.
“I’m not so sure, Jenna.”
“I am.” She sat up straight in her confidence. Hands on her knees. PJ sat up as well, still keeping watch. “What would they prove by allowing us to have this time together? I know. That the two of us are very good friends and maybe a little more, jah?”
