The Amish Midwife's Courtship and Plain Truth

by Cheryl Williford

  “I’m not a kinner, Isaac. I should be fine.” She fingered the key to her newfound freedom and slipped it into her apron pocket.

  “Ya, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She tugged at her prayer kapp ribbons. “Tomorrow.”

  The door shut behind him, and Molly locked the dead bolt. She saw the door handle wiggle. Isaac had checked to make sure she’d remembered that lock, too.

  Alone at last she dropped to the edge of the bed and then jumped to her feet as the sound of a blaring television invaded the silence of the tiny room. Lalalu must be watching television.

  She unpacked, putting her starched and ironed kapps and what few things she owned on a shelf in the makeshift closet by the bed. She hung her church dress, two aprons and several everyday work dresses side by side and swished the tablecloth, hung from a string and two nails, closed.

  Tired beyond words, she crawled into the surprisingly comfortable bed and lay on her back, listening to the muffled voices and Lalalu’s laughter. She drifted off to sleep, her last conscious thought a prayer for Isaac. Gott, keep him safe and don’t let Mamm kick him out of the house before he finds a new place to stay.

  Chapter Eleven

  Not wanting a confrontation with Ulla before he found a permanent place to live, Isaac showered, dressed and slipped out of his rental room before seeing the older woman.

  He opened the bike shop and greeted two waiting customers. Molly’s situation hovered at the back of his mind as he rented his last two big-seated bikes to two round-faced Amish women with heart-shaped kapps signifying connections to an Old Order community up north. Their crisp money would look nice in the drawer.

  His cell phone rang, and he answered the call with a good-humored smile in his voice, even though he still wasn’t used to the Pinecraft custom of using a phone for his business needs. “The Bike Pit, Isaac speaking.” He dropped into his computer chair, pride of ownership giving him a sense of peace as he waited for his caller to speak.

  “Otto Fischer here. You got a minute to meet at the café?”

  Isaac’s smile vanished. This meeting had to be about the church loan. He rubbed his aching leg and propped it on a box of bike tubes. “Ya, I do have time. I can see you in five minutes, if that works for you.”

  “Ya, I got all day and nothing to do. I’ll see you soon.”

  What if he didn’t get the loan? Would a bank consider him a good risk? He doubted it. He had no credit history, no experience as a salesman or repairman. He shoved the cell phone in his pants pocket. I need Gott’s will for my life more than ever.

  His empty stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since supper, and that had been a pack of peanut butter crackers. Maybe he’d eat a plate of pumpkin pancakes while he waited for the bishop. He took several fives out of the drawer, wrote the money draw in the book and locked up the shop.

  Inside the busy café, an empty booth offered him a chance to sit down. Hurrying over, Isaac crossed paths with several customers. He slid across the booth’s red leather seat before anyone else could snatch up the spot, and stretched out his aching leg. He didn’t bother checking the menu. He already knew what he wanted. A stack of steaming pancakes with lots of syrup and a couple of sausages, but he had to wait for Otto. The fragrant aroma of the hot café was killing him.

  “Hello.” Molly came up behind Isaac and greeted him with a shy smile.

  “You slept well last night?” he asked, eyeing the dark circles under Molly’s eyes.

  “Nee, I didn’t get much sleep. You?”

  “Like you, I tossed and turned. I’m meeting with Bishop Fischer today, and it’s important.”

  Molly wiped down the table and placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. “Has Mamm said anything to you?” She leaned in close, pretending to wipe down the saltshaker. “She could make your life difficult.”

  “I left early and avoided her, but that can’t go on forever, Molly. We need to talk, get our stories straight.”

  “Ya, I don’t like what all this deception is doing to you. Perhaps my plan was a mistake. Maybe I just need to stand up to her and Samuel, speak more firmly.”

  Isaac took a sip of the black coffee she poured. “Standing up to him hasn’t worked so far.”

  Molly’s shoulders drooped. “Nee, he is a stubborn man, used to getting his way, but I can be stubborn, too, when pushed into a corner.”

  “We need to talk tomorrow and work out what’s to be done.”

  Isaac glanced up and saw Otto Fischer walk into the café. The old man glanced around, then hurried over. “Guder mariye, Molly. And you are well today?” He sat and tossed his hat on the table.

  “Ya, I’m gut. And you?” Molly asked.

  Isaac watched their exchange of words and tried to get a feel of the man’s mood, but Otto Fischer gave no secrets away, his expression calm, as always. He was a quiet man, one who spoke only when he had something to say.

  “Gott is good, and I have no complaints worthy of hearing.” The old man grinned.

  “I’ll send your waitress over quick as I can.” Molly poured Otto a steaming cup of coffee. “You two enjoy your breakfast,” she said, and hurried back to the kitchen.

  Otto faced Isaac “Have you ordered yet?”

  “Nee, I waited for you.”

  “Let’s get our food ordered and then we talk.” He motioned for the blonde-haired waitress at the back of the café and tossed aside the menu as she walked their way. “Hallich geburtsdaag, Heidi. Your special day is gut, ya?”

  “Danke, Grossdaddi! But I had to work on my birthday. One of the girls called in sick. I couldn’t tell Willa Mae no, but later there is a party in my honor. You and Grossmammi will come?”

  “I wouldn’t miss the chance to call you an old maid now that you’ve turned eighteen.”

  “Grossdaddi, you are terrible.” Laughing, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed teen gave her grandfather a fleeting kiss on the cheek.

  “So your grossmammi keeps telling me.” His expression glowed with love for the blonde-haired girl. “She’s made a special treat for you, like when you were a kinner and she spoiled you with too much attention. You’ll be surprised.”

  “Is it strudel, with lots of apples?” The girl’s smile brightened.

  “Time will tell all things, liebling. Patience is a gift from Gott.”

  Heidi gave her grandfather a hug, and turned his coffee cup over. “Coffee?”

  “Ya, kaffi sounds gut and a stack of Willa Mae’s special peanut butter pancakes for your favorite grossdaddi.”

  Still grinning as she poured from a steaming carafe of coffee, Heidi filled his cup, her gaze turning to Isaac. She poured coffee into his waiting cup when he nodded. “And you, sir. Pancakes, too?”

  Isaac grinned. “Pumpkin pancakes for me, with sausage, bitte, and ask for my syrup to be warmed.”

  “Ya, I will.” She hurried off, her skirt swirling.

  “I didn’t know you had grown grandchildren, Bishop.”

  “Heidi is mei oldest son Ruben’s child. She is a good girl, and we are proud of her, but we did not gather here to speak of my family. It is the loan you are interested in talking about.”

  Isaac took a sip of coffee and nodded. “It is. I wouldn’t ask for help if I had another choice. It’s time to swallow my pride.”

  “Pride is a sin, Isaac. At your age you should already know this. We strive to be like Gott and accept His guidance and instruction. You play an important part of our community now. We often help new businesses flourish.” He smiled at Isaac. “I have talked with the elders, and I think we’ve found a plan that will work well for all of us.”

  Heidi carried over two white plates topped with stacks of perfectly browned pancakes, breakfast sausages and two jugs of warm syrup. “This should keep you two going for
a while.” She topped up their coffees and smiled. “Just wave if you need anything.”

  There was silence at the table as both men prayed silently and then dug in to their food. Isaac laid down his fork when his belly was full and watched Otto Fischer take his last bite of pancake. “This plan you speak of. How will it work to both our advantages?”

  “The church will become partners with you for a time. We will buy a share of your business, and you can use the cash to add stock, increase your business, whatever you need. If you work hard, you’ll make a go of the bike shop. We will continue to back you financially until you are steady on your feet, and in the black for a time. Then you can buy us out, and we will help another new business.”

  “Ya, this plan is a good one,” Isaac said and watched as his bishop nodded his agreement.

  “The elders would be happier if you were a married mann with a family, or at least courting. Is there a girl?”

  Molly walked out of the kitchen, her blue dress covered in a work apron splattered with food. Sunlight danced off her dark hair as she walked past the café window. She glanced toward their booth and her gaze locked with Isaac’s for seconds. She hurried back into the kitchen, but her sudden shy smile told him she was glad to have seen him.

  “There’s one I’m considering, but I’m not sure the time will ever be right.”

  * * *

  The next morning loud conversation woke Molly with a start. She shoved her covers off her shoulders and then froze, listening. The forceful voice had the unmistakable high-pitched superiority her mother used when trying to make her point.

  “Mamm,” she whispered, falling back among her pillows and pulling the covers over her head. She knew she’d find her. People talked in Pinecraft, but she had hoped for more than a day to prepare for the onslaught.

  Just as stubborn as her mother, Molly kicked back the covers and rose. She flung open the door, pulled her mother off the doorstep and into her room, ending her mother’s public display of bad behavior. She smiled at her angry landlord. “I’m sorry.”

  “I tried to send her away, but this woman is determined,” Lalalu said, hands on her bony hips.

  “I know. Danke for your efforts.” Molly waved a gentle goodbye, closed the door and then faced her mother. “What are you doing here?”

  Ulla paced around the tiny room, agitation in her steps, her mouth slashed in an angry line. She spun toward her daughter. “Ya, just as I suspected. You’ve lost your sense of reason. You chose this room and that horrible Englischer woman over your wonderful bedroom at home...and me?”

  Molly held her mamm’s gaze. “Ya, I did, Mamm. I chose this place, and Lalalu happens to be a very giving person. She’s made me feel welcome here. This room is my home now. While I lived in your home, I showed you respect. Now I require as much from you.”

  Molly stood her ground, shoulders back, her mind screaming, Help me, Gott. Determined to ignore her mamm’s barbs, she pulled her robe over her nightgown and began to boil water for a mug of tea. She needed something to do while waiting for her mother’s fury to end.

  “It makes me wonder. Why have you shown this disrespect to me now? Since your daed passed, I have tried my best to be a gut mamm to you, but no. You would not let me be kind and loving.”

  “Don’t bring Daed into this conversation. This is about you and me and the demands you make in my life. Leave Daed at peace in his grave.” Her voice broke, tears swimming in her eyes. Her daed had been too gentle a person to hold her mamm in check. They’d all suffered the consequences of her mother’s harsh tongue.

  “Your daed would be ashamed and disappointed in you.” Ulla threw the hurtful words at Molly, her eyes dark with anger. “You choose to be...like this. You are Amish. It is time you behave like a young Amish girl and not abandon your moral and spiritual values.” Ulla kicked at the ugly tile floor underfoot. “I blame that boss of yours at the café. She has been an evil influence in your life, that Englischer woman with her fancy ways.”

  Molly turned away from her mother, toward the screeching teakettle. She wiped tears from her face with the back of her hand before she poured boiling water over the tea bag. “Now you blame Willa Mae? Perhaps you’re right, Mamm. Maybe she did help me grow up, become an independent woman. If what you say is true, then I must remember to tell her danke.”

  Ulla waved at the door. “You come home with me now, or I will report your irresponsible behavior.” Ulla’s eyes grew large, threatening. “Bishop Fischer will bring the bann down on you at my request. You need your job as community midwife to support yourself and this—” she threw her arms up in the air “—room you call a home. You’ll have no place to stay on your miserable café tips and wages. This room will disappear, and so will your rebellion.” Her mamm smiled, but there was no joy in the smile. Only anger.

  “Do what you must. I have no intention of going back with you today.”

  “You want independence, a home of your own so badly? Gut, all this can be resolved by a quick marriage to Samuel. I’ve worked hard trying to find a suitable husband for you, someone who will put up with these willful ways of yours.”

  “Ya, you had me on the selling block, along with your jars of peaches and jams. You’d sell me to the highest bidder. Why can’t you understand? I’m not ready for marriage. Why would I want to wed? I’d be replacing you with a bossy husband telling me when to eat, how to dress. What do I need with a husband? I have you to bully me.”

  Ulla walked toward her daughter, her fists clenched. “Thank Gott your sister was different. Greta never gave me a moment’s trouble. She followed rules, showed respect to me and your daed. You were always jealous of Greta’s successful marriage, weren’t you? It was Mose you wanted all along, but you waited too long. Now he has Sarah. You must look elsewhere.”

  Molly forced back the wave of tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “You’re wrong, Mamm. I was never jealous of Greta’s joy. Besides, Mose is like a big bruder to me. He was my dead sister’s husband. It was your plan that I should marry him when Greta died, not mine. I would have never gone along with that. I loved my sister. You know I did. She was a kind and gentle person, like Daed. Greta never had to push for her rights. You gave them to her, allowed her to grow up and gave her so much more than me, things I never got. Like love.”

  Color high in her cheeks, Ulla slammed her fist on the counter and rattled Molly’s tea mug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I treated both of you with the same love and respect.” Her eyes grew red and watered. “Greta was easier to raise, less difficult.”

  “She was the pretty one, the one who pleased you. I always knew I was second best, the one to cook and clean, but never good enough to cherish.”

  “You are a foolish girl, full of yourself and pride. Gott will punish you for this rebellious spirit.”

  “I want you to leave now.” Molly pointed to the door, her face set in angry lines.

  Ulla walked to the door, held the knob in hand as she threw her words over her shoulder. “I’m serious, Molly. I will speak to Otto and the elders. He will follow the laws of the Ordnung. You will be unchurched.” Ulla’s eyes narrowed, her face pinched. “Is your freedom that important to you?”

  Molly glared at her, her heart breaking. She fought to hold back the flood of tears she felt coming.

  Ulla’s arm raised as if to strike Molly, and then it fell to her side. “This decision is yours.”

  “Go!” Molly said in a firm, but quiet voice and then cringed when her mother slammed the door behind her. What had she done?

  She punched Isaac’s number into her cell phone and trembled as she waited for him to pick up.

  Molly grimaced as she spoke. “There’s big trouble. Mamm just left, and she’s angrier than I’ve ever seen her. I think I might have made a mistake moving out. She’s threatening to have me shunned.” Her v
oice wobbled as she spoke the words.

  “Do you think she’d do it?”

  “Ya, sure she would.” Molly wiped a tear from her cheek. She heard Isaac take in a deep breath. She shouldn’t be bothering him with is, but she didn’t know who else to reach out to who would understand.

  “Do you think Mose and Sarah would let you move in with them for a while?”

  “Ya, I hate to burden Sarah, but she could use my help when the baby comes. Still, that won’t stop Mamm. She’s relentless when it comes to getting her way.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Molly stirred in bed, then rose up on one elbow, her eyes blinking, not fully awake. Had someone called her name? She glanced around the pink bedroom. Where was she? Why was she in a child’s room full of books and fluffy pink teddy bears and not in her tiny apartment? Then she remembered—Isaac lived in the tiny apartment now, and this was Beatrice and Mercy’s room. The children had been shifted elsewhere in the house when she’d moved into Mose and Sarah’s home the night before.

  Guilt roiled her stomach. She’d managed to pull Isaac into her drama again, fool that she was. She should have refused his offer to take over her apartment and taken responsibility for her own actions. But no. She’d allowed herself to be rescued again. The poor man. What must he think of her?

  “Are you awake, Aunt Molly?”

  She looked in the direction of the small voice. Mercy stood at the foot of the bed, dressed in a long white nightgown, egg yolk smeared across one cheek, her blond hair a riot of untamed curls. Molly smiled at her younger niece. “Ya, I’m awake, liebling. Gut mariye.”

  Hopping on one leg, Mercy grinned shyly and said, “Mamm said wake up, or no pancakes for you.” Picking up the hem of her long gown, the little girl ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  Molly threw back the covers and placed her bare feet on the cool wooden floor. She stifled an enormous yawn with her hand as she rose. She didn’t want to do anything but hide her head under the covers and go back to sleep, but years of self-control had her tidying the tossed bedsheets and quilt moments later. She’d had a restless night of disturbing dreams, but faced a busy day at the café, with no letup until seven, if she was lucky. She needed the distraction of a busy day to keep her from thinking about her life, her recent mistakes.