An Amish Homecoming

by Amy Clipston

  “Helping Henry and Mary Ruth is no trouble. I like living with them.” Well, she did, but she doubted she was going to be happy there anymore, thanks to Marcus. There was no way she was going to share that burden with Alice though.

  “I know you’re working now, but we need to make plans. I want to spend more time with you.”

  “I would love that. I’d love to see your parents too. How about I come over on Sunday?”

  “My parents are hosting church, you know.”

  “I know. I’ll come over in the morning and help you prepare, and help clean up after the service.”

  Alice frowned. “I want to see you, and my parents will, too, but you don’t have to come over to work. My brothers and sisters-in-law will be there to help.”

  “I’ll still want to help out as much as I can.”

  “All right then. I’ll see you Sunday morning. I can’t wait to let Mamm and Daed know you’ll be there. They’ll be so happy.” Alice smiled. Then, as she studied Irene, she said, “Are you sure you’re all right? You seem a little bothered by something.”

  “Oh, I’m just working. You know how that goes.”

  Alice nodded. “Of course.” She looked like she wanted to say something else, but her husband, Calvin, walked in. With his dark hair and bright blue eyes, he was handsome enough to take one’s breath away.

  But what caught Irene’s attention was the way he didn’t seem to notice anyone else in the entire diner except Alice. He stopped at the front, scanned the surroundings, and seemed to focus only on her.

  Irene watched him approach and took in his faded jeans, black shoes, and hunter-green sweater. She thought he looked as dangerous as he had when he was working undercover a year ago.

  But when he bent down and kissed his wife lightly on the lips, Irene saw that Calvin had changed. It was as if Alice had smoothed out his hard edges.

  “You all right?” he murmured to Alice before straightening.

  “Of course. Except that you walked right by Irene without saying a word.”

  Scrambling out of the booth, Irene laughed. “Don’t worry about me, Alice. I’m glad Calvin only has eyes for you.”

  Looking a little sheepish, Calvin turned to her. “I’m sorry, Irene. Hello,” he said before giving her a light hug.

  The hug was surprising, but his kindness was not. “Hello, back. Your wife and I have been catching up and making plans.”

  “Oh?”

  “Irene’s coming over to help my parents set up for church,” Alice said as she stood up too.

  “I had forgotten about church. Will we be able to stay for church?”

  Alice ran her fingers over her plain-looking chambray dress. It wasn’t Plain, but it was modest and looked comfortable. She nodded. “I talked to my family about it before we came. They reminded me that our services are open to anyone, and that includes you and me.”

  “Perfect. But you mustn’t do too much. Let everyone else do the heavy lifting.”

  Irene watched as a blush bathed Alice’s features. “I will, Calvin.”

  Irene was confused. She couldn’t understand why Calvin was treating Alice so tenderly, as if she was fragile. Surely he knew Alice was used to hard work.

  Then, like a lightning bolt from the heavens, it hit her.

  “Alice, are you . . . ?” She let her voice drift off. Amazing how even at this age, and after everything she’d been through, she still hesitated to mention some things in mixed company.

  But it didn’t matter. Alice smiled and nodded. “I am. Four months now.” Her eyes softened as she gazed up at her husband. “We’re mighty happy about it, aren’t we?”

  Calvin grinned. “Ecstatic.”

  “I’m ecstatic too,” Irene said as she gave her a gentle hug. “Congratulations.”

  “Danke,” Calvin said as he guided his wife back into the booth and sat by her side.

  “How have you been feeling?” Irene asked as she sat down again. “Have you been sick? Are you going to find out the baby’s gender?”

  Looking like a kid in a candy store, Alice began telling Irene all about her pregnancy, their plans, their families’ reactions, their decision to eventually learn whether they were having a boy or a girl, and the foods she’d been craving.

  It was adorable, and Irene was genuinely excited and happy for her friend. But in another way, it seemed to highlight just how far apart their lives had become. Here Alice was married and starting her family and not Amish anymore.

  And Irene? Well, she was still attempting to figure out life. She was renting a room in an older couple’s house, and even that wasn’t secure. She didn’t have anything else to look forward to either, other than waiting tables at a diner.

  By the time Alice and Calvin said good-bye—Alice giving Irene a hug and promising to see her again at church on Sunday—Irene was fighting a sudden bout of melancholy.

  All these events emphasized that she needed to do something different with her life, or at least move forward. Worrying and fretting about the past wasn’t doing her any favors.

  And it was becoming more and more apparent that she only had herself to depend on. That made her kind of sad, but she tried to think of it in a positive light. At least she wouldn’t feel abandoned again.

  CHAPTER 5

  Irene, this is perfect timing,” Agnes Weatherbee said as she opened and closed drawers and shifted things around on her desk. “I was just thinking I might have to put an ad in The Budget to find a suitable renter.”

  “I’m glad I stopped by,” Irene replied with a smile. She’d gone to bed thinking about Alice and Calvin and their new life together. Their happiness reminded her that she needed to get back on her own feet again. When she overheard two customers talking about Agnes’s apartment, Irene decided to visit as soon as she got off work. “Thank you for letting me see the apartment right away.”

  “Oh, the store is always slow at this time of day. It’s no problem to put a note on the door and tell everybody I’ll be right back.” At last the bookstore owner pulled a worn-out sign from the side drawer and set it on the counter.

  “I can never find half the things I need right away,” Agnes said. “My Jeff used to say I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my body!” She laughed to herself as she led Irene to the small apartment above the bookshop. She huffed and clambered up the stairs.

  As Irene followed, Agnes continued to talk. “Every time I climb these steep stairs, I get to thinking that they get about five times longer than they were the day before. Oh well, climbing stairs is supposed to be real good for the heart. If that’s the case, I’m gonna keep mine strong and fit.”

  The spry widow laughed again, and Irene grinned, privately thinking it might be a good thing her new landlord didn’t like climbing the stairs too much. Otherwise she would never get a moment’s peace.

  Agnes reached in a pocket on her dress for a ring of keys, then opened the door. “Well, here it is. And here are the keys. You take your time looking.”

  “You’re not coming in?”

  “Nope. I learned some time ago that it’s better to give people space from time to time. My Jeff used to say that I could talk a mule’s ear off, whatever that means.”

  Irene wasn’t sure what it meant either, but she couldn’t fault Jeff’s meaning. Agnes really was a chatty one. “I’ll take a look around and be down soon.”

  “Take your time. Just be sure to lock up when you’re done,” she said before going back down the stairs.

  After her footsteps faded, Irene walked into the apartment and closed the door behind her. Then, unable to help herself, she gave a little gasp.

  It was far nicer and bigger than she imagined. The floors were polished wood, and one of the walls was made up almost entirely of windows. The molding around the ceiling was ornate and white. The walls were painted a light grayish-blue. It was also spotlessly clean.

  Earlier Agnes told her the apartment was sparsely furnished and that Irene could either keep t
he furniture or move in her own. Since she didn’t have any furniture, she’d asked to keep it, but she had worried a bit about the condition it would be in.

  Like the floor and the walls, the furniture was in good repair and clean. The living room had a tan love seat, chair, and two side tables. They were next to a little galley kitchen, which had two barstools under the counter. Already she could imagine baking cookies in the cozy kitchen, then curling up on the love seat with a book and a cup of hot tea.

  She might even find the quiet relaxing after a long day on her feet at the diner.

  The bedroom had the same floor and walls, with a double bed, a small white dresser, and a white wicker bedside table. The bathroom had white tile.

  It was all very comforting and perfect for her. She wouldn’t have to do too much—if anything—to get situated. Truly, it was a blessing.

  So why did she feel like crying?

  The answer was obvious, of course. Though this place gave her privacy and comfort, it didn’t give her any of the things she’d come to love about the Wengerds’ home. It felt barren, while the Wengerds’ home felt lived-in and comfortable. Cool, while the couple’s house was warm.

  Most of all, it served to emphasize the very things she’d been feeling while talking to Calvin and Alice. She was alone while everyone else in her life seemed to have more relatives and close relationships than they knew what to do with.

  Because of all that, it was so very tempting to go back downstairs and tell Agnes she would have to pass on the apartment.

  But of course, she couldn’t do that. The apartment had the one thing that trumped everything else—the lack of a judgmental son.

  Marcus had apologized, but he hadn’t exactly said he was comfortable with her living with his parents. It would be better for everyone if she moved before she was asked to leave.

  When she returned to the bookshop, Agnes was opening a carton of books. “What did you think, dear?”

  “I think it will do just fine.” She opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. “How much do I owe you for the first month’s rent?”

  After Agnes named her price, a customer came in. “Just put it in the cash drawer. I’ll get to it later.” She walked away to help the man.

  Irene froze. Something suddenly didn’t seem right, especially now that Agnes had disappeared down one of the shop’s crowded aisles.

  Was it Agnes’s breezy way of handling her business that bothered her so much? Or was it that Irene now knew that anyone could wander over and help themselves to the money in that drawer?

  Either way, she felt uncomfortable simply putting her money in the drawer and walking away. And even more so about having Agnes as her landlady, especially since she just remembered that some customers she’d overheard in the diner said that doing business with Agnes was difficult and frustrating.

  But she really didn’t have a choice. She needed to move.

  She and Marcus were at least talking now, but Irene wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking he would ever accept her living with his parents. She needed to move out so she wouldn’t create any more tension between him and his parents.

  She owed Mary Ruth and Henry too much for that.

  CHAPTER 6

  Every fall, Marcus shared a cow with his parents and two other families. It wasn’t a live cow, of course. He butchered one of his steers and split the meat. Usually when he brought his parents’ share to them, he felt a source of pride. They’d given him so much, and he enjoyed giving back to them.

  Usually they eyed the white paper packages, each one neatly labeled, like Christmas had come early. But today? Well, it seemed they weren’t too enthusiastic about the meat’s arrival. After greeting him with a smile and a hug, his mother claimed she had laundry to see to.

  He watched her scurry away as if she were rushing to a chat with her best girlfriends. Never could he recall her being so enthused about clothes to wash.

  Thinking that maybe he should’ve given her some warning that he was going to stop by, Marcus shrugged and carried the heavy Styrofoam cooler down the narrow basement stairs, his father on his heels.

  “I put in a little bit of everything, Daed. But if you want something more, just let me know. I still have plenty of meat in the big freezer on the farm.”

  “I’m sure this will be more than enough,” Henry replied as he opened the lid to the giant freezer and started neatly stacking the one-pound packages. “All this meat is most generous of you. Danke, son. This cow will come in handy during the winter.”

  The gratitude seemed a little excessive, and not exactly needed either, given that he was farming the land he inherited from them. “You’re welcome,” he said, feeling awkward. “But you know I’ve got my reasons for bringing it over. I know Mamm will make some wonderful-gut meals out of it that I hope to enjoy.”

  “No doubt.” Daed leaned farther down and pulled up a brisket.

  It might have been his imagination, but Marcus thought his father was straining a bit from the weight of the cooler. “I can put the rest away. Why don’t you sit down?”

  Rubbing his shoulder, Henry straightened. “That’s a gut idea. I guess I ain’t as young as I used to be.”

  “None of us are,” Marcus teased. He privately thought his father wasn’t as old as he was acting either. What was going on with him? Marcus recalled his earlier worries and rested a hand on his father’s arm. “Hey, Daed, are you all right? Are you getting enough sleep?”

  “I’m sleeping well enough.”

  “No offense, but you seem a little more tired than usual.”

  “That’s probably because I am.”

  “You’re doing too much.” He thought of Irene and her deal for living with them. “Where is Irene? Is she working at the diner? I was surprised when I didn’t see her helping Mamm with the laundry.”

  “It would be fairly hard for her to do the laundry since she ain’t here anymore.”

  Suddenly the three-pound roast in his hands felt too heavy. He hastily placed it in the freezer. “Where did Irene go?”

  “She found another place to rent. She left two days ago.”

  He was stunned. And, truth be told, feeling more than a little guilt-ridden. He meant to go back to the diner and apologize better, but things had gotten busy at the farm. “Is that why you’re feeling tired? Did she have a lot of boxes to move out of here?”

  “There weren’t much for her to move.” He looked grim and continued. “Irene didn’t have much. Only a suitcase and a laundry basket of items.”

  One suitcase and a basket. The sum of everything in her life. He felt a lump form in his throat. “Where did she move to?”

  His father ran a hand down his beard. “Why are you so interested in her whereabouts? You thinking of running her out of her new apartment too?”

  “That’s hardly fair.”

  “Nee, son. What is hardly fair is you making her feel bad about living here with us. And since we’re on the subject, your mother and I told you to fix things with her. You were supposed to apologize, not make her leave our haus at the first opportunity.”

  “I did apologize to her. I went over to the diner and spoke to her the next morning. I promise I did.”

  “You must not have been very convincing,” he retorted as he stood back up. “She rented a room that very same evening. Nothing we said would convince her to stay.”

  Now he felt even worse. “I’m sorry, Daed. But, um, maybe her reasons were more personal? Perhaps she simply wanted to be someplace else.”

  “She liked living here with us. She liked being a part of a family, and we liked having her here.” Looking disappointed again, his father spoke softly. “I love you, but you really hurt a vulnerable girl’s feelings.”

  “I’ll try to make things better.”

  “I don’t see how you can, son. What’s done is done.” His father eyed the Styrofoam container that was still half-full and sighed. “You’d best get the rest of that meat put away before it st
arts to thaw. I’m going upstairs.”

  “Daed, I promise I’ll talk to her again. Where is Irene staying? I’ll go there and apologize.”

  “You’ll have to find her at Bill’s and ask her yourself where she’s living.”

  Stung, Marcus said quickly, “I’ll explain to her that she acted too rashly. I’ll tell her how much you and Mamm miss her. Maybe then she’ll want to move back here. And if she does, I’ll even help her bring her things.”

  “Son, do you hear what you are saying? You canna simply ask her to come and go as you see fit. This is her life we’re talking about.”

  While Marcus stood there gaping, his father turned and walked back upstairs.

  When he was out of sight, Marcus reviewed his brief conversation with Irene. Tried to think how she could have misconstrued what he said. But no matter how many times he reconfigured it in his head, he couldn’t see how he could have done things differently. She’d seemed to accept his apology. But maybe she’d only been trying to end their conversation.

  He finished emptying the container, closed the freezer case up tight, then trudged back upstairs. They seemed steeper than usual, but maybe it was his mood. He’d gone from feeling like he was his parents’ savior to their problem in the space of ten minutes.

  “Marcus, did you get the meat all put away?” Mamm asked from the kitchen.

  “I did.”

  “Did you close the lid up tight?”

  “Jah. Everything is secure.” He joined her. “But I did forget to ask if you wanted something left out. Would you like me to take out some steaks or a roast and bring it up to you?”

  “Nee, danke.”

  “Are you sure? It’s no trouble—”

  “If I need something, I can get it later.” Her voice was noticeably cool. Just like his father’s had been.

  He realized then that he’d taken his parents’ love and support for granted. They’d always rooted for him, championed his wishes, and taken his side no matter what.

  Until now.

  Frustrated with both himself and the situation, he said, “Mamm, I already told Daed that I tried to fix things with Irene. I’m going to talk to her again. Maybe she’ll change her mind about moving away.”