Minding the Amish Baby

by Carrie Lighte

  She was slogging up the lane to the daadi haus when a female voice called, “Excuse me, please.”

  Standing beneath the big willow tree near the porch was an Englischer.

  “Jah?” Tessa replied warily. The last thing she needed was for Turner to see another Englischer on his property. Who knew what conclusions he might jump to about “the company she kept.”

  “I’m looking for Turner King. I checked at the house but he’s not there. Do you know if he’s in town?” As the girl approached, Tessa caught sight of her eyes. She knew those eyes: they were Turner’s eyes. Mercy’s eyes. Tessa felt her heart fluttering within her ribs.

  “He was here as of last night. He’s probably running an errand,” she replied, although she couldn’t imagine him going out with Mercy. “Why don’t you kumme inside with me to get warm while you wait for him.”

  Jacqueline nodded and followed Tessa indoors. Tessa offered the girl a chair by the wood stove in the parlor and then she put on a kettle for tea. As she waited for it to boil, she prayed that God would guide her conversation with Turner’s sister. Tessa didn’t know whether she should reveal that she knew who Jacqueline was or not. As angry as she was at Turner, Tessa had given him her word she wouldn’t tell anyone she knew about Mercy, and Tessa figured that meant not telling Jacqueline, either.

  “Sorry, the cookies aren’t from scratch,” Tessa said nervously a few minutes later as she carried the tray into the room. The men had gobbled up all of the homemade goodies the night before, so there weren’t any leftovers.

  “Denki. I like this kind,” Jacqueline replied. Her hand trembled so much her teacup rattled in its saucer. Tessa was quiet, allowing her to lead the conversation. “How long have you lived here?”

  “About two years. My sister lived here with me until she got married last November.”

  Jacqueline set her cup on the end table. “Then I believe you must know about my dochder, Mercy?”

  Tessa’s cheeks burned as she nodded.

  “It’s okay. From what my friends told me, I realize they’d taken Mercy to the wrong house. I don’t care about any of that. I just want to know if she’s all right.”

  Tessa nodded again before finding her voice. “She’s thriving.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve seen her again since that night?”

  “I... I’ve been helping care for her. Your dochder is just the sweetest baby. She laughed at us the other day for the first time. She can almost roll over and she’s cutting a tooth. I’m Tessa Fisher, by the way,” Tessa jabbered.

  “I’m Jacqueline,” the girl said, even though Tessa already knew her name. “Denki for looking after my Mercy while I was...while I was away. I’m glad Turner had your help.”

  “It was my pleasure. And rest assured no one else knows about you or the baby.”

  Jacqueline hung her head. “Turner must be so ashamed—I certainly am. I wouldn’t blame him if he’s really angry to see me traipsing back here again after leaving Mercy with him all that time.”

  “Angry to see you? Are you kidding me? Turner can’t wait to see you!” Tessa knew she was raising her voice but she couldn’t help herself. She had to impress upon Jacqueline how keenly Turner wanted to welcome her home. “I don’t think you have any idea how deeply he’s grieved your absence and worried about your well-being! I don’t think you understand how steadfastly he’s searched for you!”

  Jacqueline’s eyes were tearful and her chin quivered, so Tessa rose, crossed the room and leaned down, placing her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Turner didn’t tell anyone about the baby because of your request. He was also trying to shield you from gossip. Believe me, there were plenty of times when it would have been easier for everyone if he had disclosed your secret. But he didn’t because he’s so loyal and protective and loving. Angry? Neh. He’s going to be thrilled to see you. There’s nothing he’s wanted more than to wilkom you home.”

  Jacqueline wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m glad, because I’ve kumme back for gut.”

  “You have? That’s wunderbaar!” Tessa spontaneously embraced the girl as if Jacqueline was her own sister and Jacqueline hugged her back. After they let go, Tessa started to say, “Why don’t we—” but she was interrupted by a faint noise coming from the basement.

  She jerked the door open to discover Turner standing at the bottom of the staircase with Mercy in his arms.

  Shocked, Tessa yelped, “What in the world?”

  “Ah-ah-ah,” the baby chanted.

  From the parlor, Jacqueline squealed, “Is that Mercy? My Mercy?”

  Turner rushed up the stairs and squeezed past Tessa to get to his sister, who sobbed upon seeing her child.

  “Mercy, my bobbel,” she kept repeating, taking the baby from Turner and kissing her all over her cheeks and head. “Look how you’ve grown!”

  Meanwhile, Turner cried, “Oh, Jacqueline, how I’ve prayed for your return.” He embraced both mother and child, closing his eyes as he hugged them. Tessa noticed a tear dribble down his face and she glanced away, feeling as if she was intruding on their reunion.

  When he finally let go of Jacqueline and Mercy, Turner said, “Mercy needed clean windle, so I let myself in. Then I heard voices coming from upstairs and I didn’t know who it was. Since I didn’t want anyone to find out about Mercy, I just stayed where I was, hoping they’d leave. I didn’t mean to startle anyone.”

  His tone was more informational than apologetic and Turner neither looked at Tessa nor addressed her by name, so she responded by simply murmuring, “Hmm,” without looking at him, either.

  He quickly said, “Kumme, Jacqueline, let’s go to the house.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. Her face was tear streaked. “Tessa probably doesn’t want us blubbering in her parlor all evening. I’ll change Mercy’s clothes and windle at your house.”

  Turner glanced around the room. “Do you have a suitcase?”

  “Jah, I left it on your porch.”

  At the door Jacqueline swiveled to face Tessa. “I can’t express my gratitude enough, Tessa. Mercy is going to miss you. But you can kumme up the hill to visit us every day, can’t she, Turner?”

  “Neh, she can’t,” he said sharply. Opening the door, he explained, “She’s moving next week.”

  But Tessa knew the real reason he didn’t want her to visit. He shouldn’t have worried; she had no intention of darkening his doorstep again until she returned the key to the daadi haus.

  * * *

  Bit by bit over the next several hours, Jacqueline told Turner about the Englisch boy she’d met during rumspringa. Once they learned she was with child, the boy dumped her. Jacqueline was so humiliated and ashamed she left Louisa’s and secured a job as a live-in nanny for an Englisch Christian family in Ohio, who knew of her plight and provided her with medical care as well as room and board and nominal wages. Although they encouraged her to return home, Jacqueline was convinced once the baby was born, the boy would want to marry her. Instead, he denied knowing her and his parents threatened to call the police if she continued “stalking” him.

  Disgraced and deserted, Jacqueline boarded a bus to Willow Creek, but on the way she lost her nerve and made it only as far as Highland Springs. She spent most of her savings to sublet a dingy room in a rundown house. After the landlady somehow found out Jacqueline was from an Amish family, she took to disparaging her faith.

  Around that time—because she needed to save every cent she could for formula—Jacqueline began attending the free suppers Skylar and Charlotte hosted at their home. They encouraged her to stay in the area and think things over, even if she wasn’t ready to return to her family. That’s when she left the baby with Turner—or rather, Skylar and Charlotte did. Meanwhile, Jacqueline took a job at the store where Skylar worked. By then she was so ashamed and downtrodden, she figured Mercy would be better off witho
ut her, and she decided she’d board a bus and move to Philadelphia on her own. Right around the time she made up her mind to leave, she got fired.

  “I’m so glad you didn’t have enough money to pay for a ticket,” Turner said, sighing heavily.

  “Oh, I had enough money—just enough. And I mean down to the penny,” Jacqueline replied. “In fact, I even bought the ticket. I was going to leave on the seven-thirty-eight bus last night.”

  Turner suppressed a gasp. “Then what stopped you?”

  “I love Mercy too much,” she said, gazing at the baby as she rocked her. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I know it was wrong. But that doesn’t mean I regret giving birth to Mercy. It doesn’t mean I don’t love her with my whole heart.”

  “I know.”

  “Turner, I am so sorry for what I put you through, too. Will you forgive me?”

  “Jah, I forgive you. Will you forgive me for...for failing you?”

  Jacqueline’s eyes flashed as if he’d said something insulting. “Failing me? How have you ever failed me?”

  “I—I didn’t know how to raise, how to guide you once you became a teenager. I probably made a lot of mistakes when you were younger, too. I’m to blame for—”

  “For nothing!” Jacqueline stopped rocking the chair and leaned forward. “Turner, my running away had absolutely nothing to do with you. It had nothing to do with Ant Louisa. I was being headstrong. I was following my own will instead of Gott’s will for me!”

  Turner was surprised by Jacqueline’s perspective; she demonstrated so much more accountability than he’d expected.

  “Why do you think I left Mercy with you?” Without waiting for an answer, Jacqueline spouted, “Because I knew you’d be as gut of a parent to her as you have been to me.”

  Overwhelmed, Turner’s eyes filled. After all this time of blaming himself for somehow failing Jacqueline, and after all this time of thinking he never ought to marry, he could hardly believe his ears when Jacqueline called him a good parent.

  She continued, “And because of my upbringing, I realize it’s time for me to grow up and admit my wrongdoings. So I’ve confessed them to the Lord and I’m prepared to speak to the deacons. I want to be baptized into the church, Turner. I want to raise Mercy the way you and Louisa raised me.”

  Denki, Lord, Turner prayed, wiping his sleeve across his eyes.

  Jacqueline fawned over Mercy, “I can’t get over how much you’ve grown. And look at that smile! Your onkel took gut care of you, didn’t he?”

  “I couldn’t have done it without Tessa’s help,” he replied. Despite their argument the previous night, Turner had to give credit where credit was due.

  “Hey, I know! Monday is Valentine’s Day. Let’s invite Tessa over for a special supper. We’ll ask Skylar and Charlotte to kumme, too.”

  Turner hedged. “Uh, I don’t know if that’s a gut idea...”

  “Why not? I’ll take care of all the arrangements, I promise. Besides, don’t you think we should do something nice for them, as a way of expressing our gratitude?”

  Put like that, Turner couldn’t say no, but he cautioned, “I don’t know if Tessa will kumme. She probably has packing to do.”

  “She’ll kumme. She’s crazy about Mercy, and from the way she talks about you I would have thought you were courting her.”

  Turner coughed. “What? Why do you say that?”

  “Well, for one thing, when I was nervous about how you’d feel about seeing me again, Tessa reminded me of how loving, protective and loyal you are. But it wasn’t just what she said. It was also the way her face looked when she said it. You could tell she really meant it.”

  As Turner recalled their argument on Friday night, a searing pang of compunction rendered him speechless. At the same moment, the baby curled her fingers around Jacqueline’s hair, which hung loose in an Englisch style.

  “You’d better get used to that,” Turner said. “She was always pulling Tessa’s kapp strings and she’s bound to pull yours, too.”

  “I don’t mind at all. But I do mind that schtinke—I’d better change her windle. After I put her down, I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

  Turner retired to his room, too, where he sat on his bed and mulled over his sister’s remarks. Did Tessa really mean it when she’d said he was loving, loyal and protective? That wasn’t how he had acted toward her on Friday night. That wasn’t how she’d described him on Friday night, either. Of course, she may have been speaking in anger, reacting to the vicious, unfounded comments I’d made about her, Turner reluctantly admitted to himself.

  It’s time for me to grow up and admit my wrongdoings, Jacqueline had said. How was it possible his seventeen-year-old sister was behaving more responsibly than he was? Turner dropped to his knees and spent the better part of the next hour confessing his transgressions and thanking God for bringing Jacqueline safely home. Before climbing into bed, Turner asked the Lord to ease the hurt he’d caused Tessa to suffer and to soften her heart toward him so they could be reconciled.

  The next morning he traveled alone since his sister and the baby wouldn’t be attending church until Jacqueline spoke to the deacon and bishop. He was glad to see Patrick sitting a few benches in front of him; Turner assumed he was no longer contagious, which meant he could carry out the plan to visit his brothers later that afternoon. After eating dinner and helping the other men stack and carry the benches to the bench wagon, Turner tried to track down Tessa, but by then she must have either left with Katie and Mason or walked home through the fields. He’d have to wait until evening to speak with her.

  Turner stopped at his house only long enough for Jacqueline to climb into the buggy with Mercy. As they rolled down the lane toward the road, he sighted Tessa walking in their direction.

  “Stop,” Jacqueline demanded. “I want to tell Tessa about the party.”

  So Turner brought the buggy to a halt and held the baby while Jacqueline hopped down to speak with Tessa. He could hear their conversation clearly.

  “Guder nammidaag, Tessa,” his sister chirped. “I’m so glad I caught you, because I want to invite you to our Valentine’s Day party tomorrow night at six o’clock.”

  Turner saw the look of utter disbelief on Tessa’s face. He wondered if he should step down and say something to encourage her to attend. But what would he say?

  Jacqueline must have noticed her expression, too, because she pleaded, “Please kumme. After all you’ve done for me, the least I can do is have you as my special guest for supper.”

  “Denki, that’s very kind, but I have chores to take care of before I leave.”

  Jacqueline wasn’t giving up. “But Mercy has been asking where you are. She really wants to see you.”

  Turner chuckled: his sister was hitting Tessa’s soft spot.

  At that, Tessa conceded, “All right, but I won’t be able to stay long.”

  “See?” Jacqueline said when she was seated beside Turner again. “I told you she’d kumme.”

  When they arrived at Mark’s house, he and Patrick were astounded to see Jacqueline and they couldn’t stop hugging her. Amazingly, neither Ruby nor Rhoda asked any questions—they were too busy oohing and aahing over Mercy. Before their visit was over, Jacqueline had invited all of them to the Valentine’s Day party, too.

  By the time they returned home, it was nearly nine o’clock and there were no lamps shining at the daadi haus. Disappointed, Turner slipped out onto the porch after Jacqueline and Mercy went to bed. He rubbed his jaw—why was it hurting so badly? He shouldn’t be tense; he should be overjoyed. Jacqueline was home, safe and sound, which was the only thing he wanted. Or was it? Peering down at the darkened daadi haus, he had to acknowledge there was something else he desired: he desired to walk out with Tessa. But how could he? He didn’t even know if she’d forgive him, much less accept him as a suitor. Not to mention, she
was leaving Willow Creek in less than seven days.

  Suddenly, Turner recalled Artie asking, You’re not going to give up, are you? And he was emboldened by the memory of his own response, Neh. Not yet. Right then and there he decided he wasn’t going to give up on his dream of courting Tessa. Not yet, he thought. Not ever.

  But the next evening, as he waited for Tessa to arrive at the party, he felt his resolve giving way to nervousness. He didn’t suppose he’d get a chance to talk to her in private until after the party, but he intended to try to put her at ease in his presence until then.

  His brothers and their wives showed up first, followed by Skylar and Charlotte.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” Jacqueline squealed when she saw them.

  “We’re so glad you’re here,” Charlotte answered.

  Jacqueline ushered them into the parlor to meet the rest of the family, while Turner lingered in the kitchen until Tessa knocked on the door.

  He grinned and said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Tessa.”

  “Hello, Turner,” she replied, neither warmly nor coolly. “There’s a car parked in the lane, but it’s got nothing to do with me.”

  Remembering how harshly he’d spoken to her about Jonah, Turner felt his ears burning. “Jah, in daylight you’d recognize it belongs to Charlotte and Skylar. They’re in the parlor.”

  “You’ve invited Englischers into your home?”

  “Why not? As a very wise young woman once told me, they just have a different way of living out their faith than we do.” Turner’s remark elicited a quick smile from Tessa and his confidence surged.

  During supper everyone complimented Jacqueline on the meat loaf, brown-butter mashed potatoes and broccoli bake she’d prepared, but by that time Turner had grown nervous again and he could hardly taste the food. For dessert the group devoured yellow cupcakes with red-and-pink buttercream frosting Rhoda purchased from Faith Schwartz’s bakery, as well as strawberries dipped in chocolate Ruby brought. Afterward, the women shooed the men into the parlor. Turner tried to focus on their conversation to no avail, so he was glad when he realized the stove would need more wood soon and he went outside to fetch it.