by Amy Clipston
“What are you two doing here?” Rudy asked, no doubt surprised to see them together.
Mark pointed to the shopping cart. “I’m just picking up supplies for the farm, and Priscilla needs some material at the fabric shop.”
“You’re still working for Yonnie?” Rudy asked. He was putting two and two together now.
“Ya, I am. I see you’re staying busy.” Mark gestured around the store. “The store looks great.”
“Danki. It’s going well. We have some new suppliers, and we’re able to keep our prices competitive despite the chain stores in town.” Rudy gestured toward the front of the store. “If you have everything, why don’t I check you out so you can be on your way?”
Mark and Priscilla followed Rudy to the cash register, and Mark paid for the supplies, adding two bottles of water to his purchases. Then they headed out and he loaded up the buggy.
As he climbed in beside Priscilla, he turned toward her. Once again, she stared out the window as if she’d rather be anywhere else in the world. He couldn’t take the silence between them any longer.
“Are you upset with me?” He heard the hint of desperation in his voice. What was wrong with him?
She faced him, her eyebrows careening toward her hairline. “Why would I be upset with you?”
“I don’t know.” He fingered the reins. “You’re just so quiet. Did I do something to offend you?”
“No, you haven’t done anything. I guess I just don’t have much to say.” She shook her head. “Let’s get to the fabric store so I can get back home and finish making those trousers for Ethan.”
“All right.” He handed her a bottle of water. “Here. I got this for you.”
“Danki.” She opened it and took a long drink.
“Gern gschehne.”
How was he ever going to figure out the puzzle that was Priscilla Allgyer?
The bell on the door chimed as Priscilla and Mark stepped into Herschberger’s Fabrics. She gripped her list in her hand and took in the knot of women milling around the large store. Most of them were dressed Amish, but a few Mennonite and Englishers were shopping as well.
Priscilla’s breath seemed to scorch a hole in her chest as she steeled herself against her growing anxiety at being seen in the community now that the bishop had announced her name during the church’s members-only meeting.
“Mark!”
Priscilla turned toward the cashier counter, where Franey stood helping a customer. Her pretty face lit up with a wide smile as she waved at Mark.
“Hi, Franey.” Mark returned the smile.
“It’s gut to see you.” Franey looked as if she wanted to leap over the counter.
“Hi, Mark.” Sadie Liz, Franey’s younger sister, approached them. “What are you doing here?”
Priscilla tamped down the urge to ask Sadie Liz if she were invisible. In all honesty she longed to be invisible these days.
“I’m looking for some material to make a few dresses,” Mark said, teasing. “What color do you think would be best for me?”
Sadie Liz giggled. “How about blue to go with your eyes?”
“Ya, they are my best feature, aren’t they?” he retorted, and then he pointed to a display of patterns. “Would I find the best pattern over there?”
“Ya, let me show you.” Sadie Liz giggled again as they walked together toward the display.
Priscilla swallowed a groan and headed toward the bolts of material. She picked out what she needed and asked Franey’s mother to cut the material for her.
As she took her place in line to pay, she spotted Mark in the corner still chatting with Sadie Liz, who was still giggling. Priscilla rolled her eyes. Did he ever stop flirting? Why were all the women in this community attracted to him as if he wore an invisible magnet?
Several women lined up behind Priscilla as she waited her turn. When she reached the counter, she placed her basket on it and pulled her wallet from her purse.
When Priscilla looked up, Franey’s eyes were wide as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Priscilla, but I can’t accept your money.”
Humiliation wafted over her as she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, I’m not.” Franey’s expression was serious, holding no hint of a joke. She also lowered her voice. “You’re under the Meiding, so I can’t take your money.”
Whispers erupted behind Priscilla, and her legs began to shake with the weight of humiliation.
“Come on, Franey,” Priscilla said, seething as her cheeks burned. “We went to school together, and you know me. I need this material so I can make clothes for mei sohn. Please just tell me what I owe you.” She opened her wallet and held up a handful of bills.
“I can’t. I’m not allowed.” Franey pushed the material toward her. “Just take it.”
“Please, Franey.” Frustrated tears filled Priscilla’s eyes as she felt the stares of the women in line behind her burning through her dress and into her clammy skin. “Take my money.” Her voice sounded weak and unsure to her own ears.
Hold it together, Priscilla!
“I can’t.” Franey nodded toward the corner of the store, where her father was stocking shelves. “He won’t let me.”
A woman behind her clicked her tongue, and Priscilla could imagine her critical thoughts. How could these judgmental women even begin to understand what Priscilla had endured the past few years?
Priscilla’s hand trembled as she pushed her wallet back into her purse. She prayed she wouldn’t cry in front of Franey and the rest of the people watching her. She couldn’t allow them to see her crumble. She was stronger than that!
“Hey, Franey.” Mark appeared beside Priscilla and leaned on the counter. “How’s your day going?”
“Hi, Mark.” Franey’s face brightened as she turned toward him. “My day has been fine. How’s yours?”
“It’s been great.” He moved his finger over the counter. “I’ve been thinking about your offer on Sunday. Do you still have that strawberry pie?”
“I do.” Franey nodded with enthusiasm. “I saved some for you.”
“Wunderbaar. Maybe I could come over one night this week?”
“Of course!” Franey nearly squeaked. “How about Thursday?”
“Great.” Mark smiled that electric smile that seemed to make Franey melt.
Priscilla’s jaw locked so hard that her whole face ached. Was Mark really going to make a date with Franey now? Unbelievable! Did he think the world revolved around his dating schedule?
Mark pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Listen, I really need to get this material. How much do I owe you?”
Franey froze, and her gaze bounced between Priscilla and Mark.
“Come on, Franey.” Mark’s smile somehow seemed brighter as he nodded toward the long line of women behind them. “I’m certain these ladies are in a hurry, so why don’t you just tell me what I owe you.”
“Oh. Okay.” Franey’s smile was back. She added up the material, told Mark the amount, and he paid.
“Danki so much. I’ll see you Thursday.” Mark winked as he took his change from her.
Mortified, Priscilla snatched the bag out of Mark’s hand and marched out of the store to his buggy, hoping to leave the accusing stares of the customers behind forever.
“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” Priscilla said as Mark climbed into the buggy beside her. “I had it all under control.” She sat back in the seat and opened her purse.
“No, you didn’t.” Mark shook his head. “And I’m glad I was there to help you.”
“I think you mean you were there to sweet-talk Franey.” She pulled out a handful of bills and held them out to him. “Here.”
He looked down at the money and then met her gaze. “I don’t need your money.”
She frowned. “And I don’t need your charity. Take it.”
He took the money and studied her for a moment, taking in the sadness that seemed to spar
kle in her dark eyes.
“Consider the material a gift for Ethan.” As he pushed his hand toward her with the money, she flinched before taking it.
“Danki,” she said as she slipped the bills back into her wallet and then focused on her black purse.
They both remained silent during the ride back to her father’s farm, and, once again he longed for a radio.
When they reached one of her father’s barns, he halted the horse.
Priscilla turned toward him, her expression more amiable this time.
“Danki,” she whispered. “I appreciate what you did today.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she was already out of the buggy and marching up the path toward the house.
EIGHT
PRISCILLA DASHED INTO THE DOWNSTAIRS BATHROOM, closed the door, and leaned against it. Her arms hung at her sides as humiliation and anger gushed out like a raging river. She dissolved into tears. Franey’s rejection had torn at her heart and solidified her reasons for being reluctant to return to this community.
After a few moments she leaned on the sink and stared at her image in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and tears had streaked her face.
“You’re stronger than this,” she whispered to her reflection. “And you need to show Ethan that courage.”
Leaning over, she filled her hands with cold water and splashed it on her face. She couldn’t allow her parents to see her fall apart like this.
As she dried her face on a towel, a new determination blossomed. She’d finish making Ethan’s new clothes and then remind her mother about helping with her quilting and sewing business. She’d save all her money and then find a small place to rent and a job that would pay enough for her to live on her own. Once she left her father’s house, he couldn’t force her to marry an Amish man to support her and her son. She would make her own way. She had to. Her life depended on it.
Priscilla smiled at her reflection. Yes, she would make it on her own without the help of any man, including her father. She would show everyone just how resolute she truly was.
“Priscilla.” Mamm stood in her doorway on Thursday afternoon of the following week.
“Ya.” She stopped sewing the quilt she’d been repairing for one of her mother’s customers and turned toward her.
“Cindy Riehl left us a message and invited us over for an impromptu quilting bee. She said Laura will be there too.” She beckoned toward the hallway. “It starts in a half hour, so let’s go.”
Priscilla hesitated. There was normally food at quilting bees, and she would have to eat alone, across the room from everyone else, which would humiliate her just as much as she’d been at Franey’s store. Everyone would stare at her. She swallowed a groan at the thought.
“Was iss letz?” Mamm’s brow furrowed.
“I don’t know.” She nodded toward the quilt. “I promised I’d have this done by the end of the day, and I—”
“So bring it with you and finish it there. You need to get out of this haus. You haven’t left since you went to the fabric store last week. Let’s go. Your dat and Mark already agreed to look after Ethan.” Before Priscilla could respond, Mamm was gone, her footsteps echoing in the hallway.
For a brief moment Priscilla wondered if Mark had asked his sister to invite her to this quilting bee, but she dismissed that notion. Why would Mark worry about Priscilla, especially since she’d avoided him for more than a week? She’d said hello to him a few times, but otherwise she’d steered clear of both her father and him.
“Priscilla!” Mamm called from downstairs. “Our driver is here!”
“I’m coming.” After gathering the quilt and sewing supplies she’d need, she hurried down the stairs and out to the waiting van.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Laura smiled at Priscilla as they sat together on the glider on the Riehls’ porch later that afternoon.
After sewing for more than an hour with Laura, Cindy, Florence, Kayla, Sarah Jane, and Mamm, Priscilla and Laura had slipped outside to talk alone. Mollie was inside helping Cindy work on a quilt for one of her customers.
“I am too.” Priscilla picked up her teacup, sipped from it, and looked out across the meadow toward Jamie’s house. “I want to say again that I’m sorry I didn’t contact you after I left.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay, and I truly regret it.” Priscilla touched Laura’s hand. “Danki for forgiving me for disappearing without a trace. I’m grateful you’ve welcomed me back into your life.”
Laura clicked her tongue and shook her head. “How could I not welcome you back? I’ve missed you so much. I’m grateful God brought you back to us.”
Priscilla looked out across the gorgeous pasture again. She’d forgotten how beautiful the patchwork pastures were in Lancaster County.
Laura paused for a moment. “Tell me about Baltimore.”
“What?” Priscilla spun toward Laura.
Laura lifted an eyebrow. “I hit a sore spot? I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” Priscilla gripped the handle of her cup. “When I left I moved in with my cousin Thelma. She’s a few years older than we are, and she left her community when she was nineteen. We’d been writing letters for some time, and when I told her I was thinking about leaving, she invited me to stay with her.”
Laura’s eyes rounded, and she touched Priscilla’s arm. “I had no idea you were so unhappy. If you’d told Savilla and me, we would’ve tried to help you.”
“Danki for that.” Guilt felt like a scratchy blanket that wrapped around Priscilla and tightened. “But it’s not your fault. I was so confused, and I didn’t know what I wanted.” She looked down at her tea, too humiliated to admit that her father was the one who had driven her away. “Thelma worked at a restaurant within walking distance of her apartment, and I got a job there too, as a waitress.”
“Was that where you met Ethan’s dat?”
“Ya.” Priscilla kept her focus on her cup as she spoke. “He was a frequent customer, and he always asked to be seated in my area. One day he asked me out, and we started dating. About six months later, I moved in with him, and then I got pregnant.” She flushed with shame. “Things were gut for a while, but then he . . . changed. I knew I had to leave, and that’s why I’m here.”
Laura rubbed her arm. “And I’m glad you came back no matter what happened.”
Priscilla smiled and nodded as relief flooded her. She wasn’t ready to share the details of her troubled relationship with Trent.
“What happened to your cousin Thelma?”
“She got married and moved to New Jersey. I haven’t heard from her in a couple of months.”
“Oh. How are things at home?” Laura asked. “I know you and your dat used to argue a lot.”
“It’s tolerable.” Priscilla shrugged. “He insisted I make myself right with the church, which I’m doing. He also insists I need to find a husband, but I’m going to try to be on my own before he can enforce that demand.”
“What do you mean?” Laura asked.
Priscilla lowered her voice to be certain her mother wouldn’t hear from inside the house. “I’m saving the money I make helping mei mamm sew, and I’m going to find a place for Ethan and me. Then I’ll find a steady job so I can be on my own. Mei mamm doesn’t know my plan, so please keep it to yourself.”
Laura seemed to search her eyes. “Tell me you’re not going to leave the community again.”
“I don’t know.”
Laura’s expression clouded with something that looked like worry. She shook her head.
Priscilla needed to change the subject fast. “Tell me about Allen.”
“Oh, he’s wunderbaar.” Laura got a faraway look in her eyes as she rubbed her belly and stared off toward the green rolling meadow. “I’m so froh with him. He’s handsome, kind, and generous. And he’s a gut dat. He loves Mollie so much, and I know he’ll love our second kind just as much.”
As Laura talk
ed about Allen’s carriage business and how hard he worked to support their family, Priscilla tried to imagine having a husband that wonderful. What would life have been like if Trent had married her, worked hard to support their family, and cherished her and Ethan? Heaviness settled over her heart, and she fought back threatening tears.
“Priscilla?” Laura leaned over and touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Ya.” She forced a smile. “I was just thinking about how blessed you are. I’m so froh you and Allen found each other.”
Laura clicked her tongue. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to brag or sound prideful.”
“You didn’t.” Priscilla shook her head. “I just don’t think a gut provider and dat for Ethan is possible for me.”
Laura’s eyes were determined. “Don’t give up on our community.”
Priscilla couldn’t stop her snort. “What makes you think any man in the community would want to marry me, even if I was ready to trust another man?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
Priscilla turned toward her. “Laura, I’m shunned for leaving for eight years and then coming back with a sohn I had out of wedlock. Why would any man want to be with me?” She pointed to her chest. “I’m damaged.”
“No, you’re not.” Laura shook her head. “You made a mistake, and you’re doing what you have to do to make yourself right with the church. You’re forgiven.”
“I may be forgiven, but my sins won’t be forgotten.”
Laura sighed. “Stop being so hard on yourself. Give yourself time to readjust in the community. You’re schee and sweet. Many men would love to have a fraa like you.”
“Danki.” Priscilla shifted on the glider. She didn’t believe Laura’s insistence that any man would give her a chance after she’d had a child out of wedlock. She needed to change the subject.
“Laura, do you remember the time you, Savilla, and I went to that pond in Ronks in Mark’s buggy, and we got stuck in a rainstorm? It was storming so hard we couldn’t see out the windshield, so we had to pull over at a 7-Eleven and wait for it to pass. We just sat there and drank Slurpees until the storm passed.”
