The Baby Next Door

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Adrian, I’m surprised you’re still here.”

  “Oh, I wanted to help Grace with the cleanup phase.”

  “Well, I would certainly say today was a success, despite the problem with the casseroles. And Grace, that can happen to anyone. I once added Worcestershire to a dish that called for soy sauce.” She pulled out the knitting she kept in a basket and sat at the table. “Yes, I would say that tonight was a real success. I sold quite a few of my knitted pieces, and the money will come in handy. Hopefully, word will spread. This was a gut idea, Adrian. Thank you for involving us.”

  A fresh stream of guilt washed over Grace.

  As if reading her mind, her mamm added, “And I’m sure Grace will do a better job with the food next time. Probably just nerves.”

  Adrian rested his back against the counter, crossing his arms. “If you could have seen the old gent’s face when he took a bite...”

  Why was he always so comfortable in any situation? You’d think he’d been in their kitchen a dozen times, which Grace knew was not the case.

  “The bread was gut, though. Everyone ate a lot of that, and most people had two helpings of dessert.” Adrian looked at Grace and winked.

  Good grief.

  She was hoping he’d at least stay angry with her. She was counting on it. How else was she going to convince him to find a different cook?

  “I better check on Nicole.”

  “She’s sitting with your dat while he reads the paper. Why don’t you walk Adrian outside?”

  As if he couldn’t find his way out. Grace didn’t say that, though. Instead, she hung up the dish towel and motioned toward the front room.

  She might have been okay with how the day had gone if it had ended there. Yes, she’d done a terrible thing, but no one was hurt and she’d done it for her child. Yes, she was exhausted, but hopefully she was putting this silly tour idea on the buggy lane to shutting down.

  Overall, she felt optimistic.

  Then they walked through the sitting room.

  Nicole was sitting there, curled up next to her daddi, forefingers stuck in her mouth. When she saw Adrian, her entire face lit up. “Aden.” She held up both hands and began to bounce.

  “Look who’s still up.”

  “Up.”

  Adrian scooped her into his arms. He held her high in the air, and when he brought her down, she snuggled in against his chest and put both arms around his neck, looking over his shoulder at Grace.

  She felt as if a knife had ripped through the tissue of her heart. Her baby girl was safe and healthy. She should be grateful for that. Instead, she was reminded that Nicole needed a father—not to provide for her, Grace would do that. Her parents would do that. Nein, Nicole needed a father because every little girl should have the love of both parents.

  And in that area, Grace had failed miserably.

  * * *

  Adrian didn’t see Grace or Nicole at all the next day. He thought about them, though. He puzzled over Grace’s desperate attempt to sabotage their Englischer tour. In some ways, he felt bad that he’d involved her. But in other ways, he thought it was a healthy thing. Her parents certainly considered the tour a wunderbaar idea, and the truth was that he thought Grace needed a little more contact with the outside world. She’d been home two months, and she rarely left the farm unless it was to attend church services.

  Nein, he was doing the right thing.

  The only issue was convincing Grace of that.

  He spent Wednesday and Thursday sprucing up his place. The aviary needed a wider path through the middle so that guests could walk the entire length, and then there was the problem of his new camel. Cinnamon still wasn’t feeling at home. He finally earned her trust with treats, then spent an hour brushing her. He’d never brushed a camel before, and he marveled at what an amazing creature she was.

  Simon had given him a book on camels. It said the word camel, literally translated from the Arabic, meant beauty. When Adrian looked into Cinnamon’s eyes, he could see why. He also quickly realized that he needed to keep an eye on the water level in her trough. The book claimed that a camel could drink forty gallons at once. He currently filled the animal’s trough with a hand pump, so he’d have to monitor the water levels closely.

  As he went about those tasks, his mind insisted on turning over the mystery of Grace. He’d never been one to tolerate an unsolved puzzle. As a teenager, he’d once spent an entire week putting together a jigsaw puzzle. His dat had bought it at a garage sale. The catch was that there was no box—no picture at all. Adrian had lived and breathed that puzzle for six-and-a-half days until he’d finally put the entire thing together. It had been a cat hanging on to a rope by its little paws, with the words Hang In There written underneath.

  He needed to hang in there with Grace. Give her time to change her way of thinking.

  Later that afternoon, Seth showed up at his farm with the tour group right on time, leading the line of buggies.

  Adrian felt more comfortable with this second group. He didn’t stumble over his words as he explained how he’d started the farm and why he provided a home for exotic animals. Kendrick didn’t swipe anyone’s hat, though he did spit on a gentleman. Fortunately, the man laughed and threatened to spit back. Cinnamon still wouldn’t come near enough to be petted, but she did walk closer to the fence of her enclosure.

  Overall, he felt that things were going very well.

  When they walked over to Grace’s place, he was surprised to see there were no picnic tables set up under the trees in front of the house. Grace was waiting for them on the front porch, once again looking as pretty as a picture from a story book. This time, Nicole was in her arms. As the guests gathered around the front porch, she said, “We thought that we’d have dinner tonight near the back of the property by the pond. My dat has hooked up the buggy horses to a trailer. You can either ride or walk.”

  Adrian sidled up close to her and lowered his voice. “A hayride is a gut idea. I should have thought of that.”

  “Well, you can’t think of everything.”

  She gave him a winsome smile, and Adrian had the fleeting thought that something was up.

  “Do I need to help you carry things?”

  “Nein. It’s all back there already. Fresh bread, sliced ham, locally made cheese, potato salad and apple pie. There’s no chance that I could ruin this meal.”

  Nicole reached for him, and Adrian pulled her into his arms. He hadn’t realized how comforting it was to hold a child. He hadn’t really considered himself father material, a worry that had only been reinforced by his lack of success in dating. He was more comfortable around animals than babies—except for Nicole. It felt natural to hold her, perhaps because she came to him so willingly. Adrian didn’t know if he’d ever have a family of his own, but he wasn’t giving up on the idea. He was still a young man, even though he had turned twenty-five.

  Occasionally he realized that he’d like to court someone, that he’d enjoy caring for a family, but invariably he became distracted by his animals and his obligation to them. His animals, his dream of a sanctuary, had taken all of his time and attention. But holding Nicole, it occurred to him that perhaps he should try courting again. So what if previous attempts had been a disaster? Success came to the persistent.

  He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, what Grace was saying to him hadn’t quite registered. When she reached to take Nicole from him, he snapped out of his reverie.

  “I can carry her.”

  “She’s staying here at the house. Weren’t you listening?”

  His cheeks heated. “Oh. Guess my mind drifted a bit.”

  “She missed her nap today and has been a bit cranky.”

  Nicole waved her arm in the air, laughed, then stuck her fingers in her mouth.

  “Do you need to stay with her?”

  “Nei
n. Mamm will watch her. Then when the guests come back to see her knitted things, I’ll put Nicole to bed.”

  He nodded as if that made sense.

  Grace was being awfully accommodating. Her attitude seemed completely different than two days ago. What had changed her mind? It hadn’t been anything he’d said. Adrian was sure of that. She’d looked as petulant when he left on Tuesday evening as she had the day she had showed up at his place with a rolling pin. So what was going on?

  She took Nicole inside, then returned with a shawl draped over her shoulders. It was a pretty lavender.

  “That’s a nice color on you.”

  “This? Danki. Mamm made it—of course.” They started off toward the back of the property, walking at a brisk clip to catch up with the guests.

  Adrian scratched his jawline, glanced in the direction they were going, then back at Grace. Why was she so happy? Why wasn’t she asking him if he’d found another cook for the tour? This was too easy. In his experience, it took a longer amount of time for women to come around to someone else’s way of thinking...which he immediately realized was a ridiculous thought. Men could be as stubborn as women.

  Better to ask than to wonder. “Say, what’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Suddenly you seem on board with this.”

  “On board with what?”

  “You know what I mean, with the tour group.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.”

  Grace increased her pace. How did someone with such small feet walk so fast?

  “Tell me you haven’t done anything to sabotage tonight’s dinner.”

  “Of course not, Adrian.” She smiled up at him sweetly, increasing his nervousness by several degrees. “On the other hand, I can’t control everything.”

  What did that mean? Why was she still smiling? They’d reached the back of the property. She’d put a tablecloth on two old picnic tables and set out a few well-worn quilts by the small pond.

  It was perfect. The entire thing was better than he could have imagined. So what was going on? Because for sure and certain, Grace Troyer was up to something.

  The guests filled their plates and spread out to eat. His mind registered the fact that there were an awful lot of cut flowers in mason jars—and these weren’t the wildflowers like they’d had on the tables on Tuesday. Stepping closer to the picnic table, he saw that they were actually tree blossoms.

  They looked nice.

  He filled his plate, and took a seat on one of the quilts. Small trays filled with tiny jars of peanut butter and jam were at each place, as well.

  He didn’t notice the bees at first, didn’t understand immediately what was happening. First one guest, then another jumped up and began swatting at the air. By the time the bumblebees had fully invaded their picnic, hovering over the tree blossoms and investigating the peanut butter and jam, they had guests scattered everywhere. At first he couldn’t spot Grace, but then he saw her sitting on the other side of the pond.

  He couldn’t believe it.

  He could not accept that she would try to ruin their dinner again. Both hands on his hips, he scowled at her.

  And what did Grace do? She shrugged her shoulders, hands held out, palms up. What had she said? I can’t control everything.

  Was he supposed to think this was a random, natural event?

  He might not be able to prove it, but he knew the truth. And one way or another, he was going to get to the bottom of her issues. There was no way he was finding another place for his tour groups’ dinners now. He’d set her straight about bumblebees and bad cooking and tour groups.

  He accepted in that moment that Grace Troyer was not the same sweet young girl he’d gone to school with. She’d changed, and not for the better! Which was all good and fine with him.

  He didn’t need her to be his friend. He needed her to be his business partner, and he would find a way to make that happen.

  After all, what else could she possibly do?

  Chapter Four

  Grace was out of ideas. She spent most of the weekend brooding over tour groups and Englischers and Adrian. Saturday, she scrubbed the house with such vigor that her mamm suggested she go easy on the floors or they’d have a hole in them soon. Sunday was a church day, but she couldn’t focus on the singing or the sermons, and the new-members’ class had only increased her angst. She felt like a fraud sitting among the other younger candidates. She’d already made so many mistakes in her life. How did one start over?

  Their lesson had focused on the coming of Christ, something she’d heard about since she was a young girl and believed in with all her heart. She loved to think of heaven and being reunited with loved ones. But some days, heaven seemed a long ways off.

  Grace sorely needed instruction on how to navigate the day-to-day of her life. She simply couldn’t seem to get her feet underneath her. The service ended, but for Grace, the fellowship afterward was even worse.

  All the women her age who also had young children had husbands. They sometimes attempted to draw Grace into their conversations, but she thought it was more out of pity than a real offer of friendship. The younger girls who didn’t have husbands were either dragging out their rumspringa or actively on the hunt for a man. She certainly had nothing to add to those discussions.

  So for the most part, she kept to herself, helping with both the serving and the cleanup of the meal, and she always found an excuse to leave as early as possible. A few times she caught sight of Adrian. Once he was looking directly at her and talking to his friend George Miller. He offered a small wave, but she pretended not to see. Soon after that, she and Nicole left for home.

  Grace was still determined to stop the tours, but she couldn’t think of a way to accomplish that. Finally on Monday, her mamm recommended that she visit her schweschder’s, suggesting that the afternoon away would help her mood, which had admittedly been terrible.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Georgia was nursing her three-month-old son, Jerome.

  Grace missed that closeness with Nicole. Now that her little girl had moved on to drinking from a sippy cup, she realized she should have treasured those moments. Nicole was sitting on the kitchen floor, playing with her cousin Ben. They were very close to the same age.

  Georgia prodded her with her foot. “Are you going to answer me?”

  “What was the question?”

  “Why the somber mood? Why the frowns and sighs? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’d tell you if I knew.”

  She really couldn’t blame it all on Adrian and his Englisch tours. The tour groups were just bearing the brunt of her bad mood, but underneath those feelings of frustration, she felt deeply unsettled. She had no desire to examine that, so instead, she focused on thwarting Adrian’s plans. At least she was aware of her coping strategies. That had to count for something.

  “Maybe it’s the baby blues. You can have those, even after they’re toddlers. I know, because after my oldest started walking I went through a bad patch of it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ll tell you a funny story to cheer you up.” Georgia always had a humorous story to share. There’d been six girls in the house when they were growing up, and she was the comedian of the group. She was also the closest in age to Grace. They’d always been more like friends than schweschdern, though even Georgia didn’t know who Nicole’s father was.

  When Grace had first told her she was pregnant—and Georgia was the first person she’d shared that information with—her schweschder had enfolded her in a hug and told her not to worry.

  “Love will find a way,” she’d whispered.

  A month later, Grace had been bussed off to live with a Mennonite aenti in Ohio.

  Georgia resettled her babe at the other breast, then leaned back to tell her story. “Will purcha
sed a dozen goats a month ago. Remember that?”

  “Oh, ya. You were both quite excited about it.”

  “We were, though I kept telling him that he needed to reinforce the fencing. You know what Dat always says, if water can get through a fence—”

  “Then goats can get through it.”

  “Exactly. Will kept putting off the fence repairs. I don’t know if he didn’t want to spend the money on the fencing supplies or simply had other things he’d rather do.”

  “The goats got through the fence.”

  “Are you going to let me tell this? It’s funnier if I just tell it.”

  “Fine...” In spite of herself, Grace was interested in the story. She’d heard that goats could be a lot of trouble, which was part of the reason she was so surprised that Adrian had recently acquired eight of the pygmy variety.

  They’re small, he’d explained. No trouble at all.

  Georgia raised Jerome to her shoulder and proceeded to rub his back in soft circles. “Will put the goats in the back pasture and assured me they’d be fine. They would try to get out every time one of us went back to check on them or feed them, but Will declared he was smarter than a goat.”

  “Will is pretty smart. Remember the time he fixed that old windmill?”

  “Focus. So I’m on the front porch talking to Bishop Luke when I hear this crying from inside—mamm, mamm. That’s what it sounded like. Well, from the noise, you would have thought that I had a dozen children instead of four, and of course my girls were in school, so only two were home. Still, I kept hearing their voices—mamm, mamm.”

  Grace pressed her fingertips against her lips. She could see where this was going.

  “Those cries were immediately followed by the sound of something crashing—several things crashing. The bishop, he’s beginning to look concerned, and finally he says that perhaps I should check on whatever is happening. So I hurry inside, the bishop right behind me. And what do you think I see?”

  “Goats.”

  “Goats.” Georgia laughed right along with Grace. Her schweschder had always been good-natured. “They were on the table.”