by Amy Lillard
But could he really believe God was behind this?
Who else would it be?
Mims would say that. She would tell him that he had shut himself off and done his best to forget about the world around him, and this was God’s way of bringing him back.
And she might be right. There was no way to know for certain. But it seemed like an awfully big coincidence. But perhaps that just showed that the Lord did indeed work in mysterious ways.
There was one thing he knew for certain. They were stuck there for a couple of days. Thankfully, he had plenty of firewood already cut, stacked, and waiting, and Mims had provided him with enough food to feed half the district. They would be fine. The baby . . . Tiny babies had needs. Diapers and tiny little clothes.
He pushed back from the table and slowly made his way down the hall to the room just next to his. The door was closed, as it had been since the last time he’d been in there. He had tried several times to go in and clean through everything, but he hadn’t been able to get past the door. It was just so hard. But the baby upstairs needed the things that he had in that room. And so some good use would be found for them.
With a heavy sigh, he opened the door and stepped inside. Sunlight filtered through the window and landed on the crib. A crib much too big to cart up the stairs. But there were other things. A bag of disposable diapers, a stack of the cloth kind, and rubber pants. Large safety pins, tiny little cotton gowns, minuscule socks, sweet little hats, and a cradle that would be no problem at all to carry.
He packed all these things and a stuffed bunny of sunshine yellow into the cradle. But he stopped before actually picking it up. It made his heart hurt to see those things there, those tiny little baby things that would have belonged to his son. And it hurt even more to think about the son who would never use them. The mother who would never see her child grow and learn.
But there’s a baby upstairs who can use them, even needs them.
He sucked in a fortifying breath. Then he hoisted the cradle and carried it from the room. He set it in the hallway and closed the door behind him. For the first time since Mary and the baby had died, he left the room with a lighter heart than the one he went to it with. It seemed almost a miracle. A surprising, astonishing miracle. He missed them; he probably always would. They were gone—he knew that. He had understood it from the beginning, but he had not been able to get rid of the things that belonged to them, Mary’s clothes and the various baby items that had been brought over from well-meaning family members and friends. But now these things had a new purpose.
He stopped outside the door of the bedroom where Tillie had slept, where she had given birth, and he knocked on the door. He waited for her response before he set the cradle down and opened the door for himself. Then he picked up the mess of things he had gathered from downstairs and carried them into the room.
Her eyes grew wide.
She had taken his suggestion and was wearing his button-down shirt. He supposed she also had on Mary’s odd skirt. He still didn’t know what she had intended to do with it, but that was Mary, always with the ideas.
“What is all this?” Tillie asked.
Suddenly Levi felt extremely self-conscious. He had helped this woman bring a life into the world, and suddenly he was embarrassed over the items he had brought to her. He wasn’t sure why. So he swallowed back his emotions, cleared his throat. “Some stuff for the baby. I didn’t know what all to bring up. There’s diapers, a couple of gowns, a pair of socks or two.” He shrugged. “And the cradle.”
She looked at the cradle filled with various things for the baby and back up to his face. “Did these things belong to your baby?”
He didn’t bother to ask how she knew that his child was gone, seeing as how she had been gone when Mary had died. Someone must have told her, even in the short time that she had been back in Pontotoc. It was the way small Amish communities worked.
“Jah,” he said. “I haven’t been able to get rid of them yet. I guess that was a good thing after all.”
“Levi,” she breathed his name, and he knew from the sound it was more than a summons. It was closer to a prayer. Suddenly he felt even more embarrassed. “This is very generous of you.” She didn’t finish. She didn’t say the rest, though he knew what she was thinking: how painful it must be for him. But she understood, and that was enough.
Tears pricked at his eyes, and he blinked them back. He cleared his throat once more. “The baby,” he said. “Your baby has got to have things. It’s just lucky I have those things, I guess.”
He could say I guess all he wanted, but he knew: This had to be the Lord at work. All of it. From the ice storm to Tillie having her baby on such an inconvenient night, he felt as if God was giving him a big message. It was time to get himself together. And that’s just what he planned to do.
“There’s more downstairs if there’s anything else you need.”
She smiled, and to his dismay, tears formed in her eyes as well. “I’m sure this is plenty. I don’t want to take your things.”
He shook his head. “They’re just things.” And suddenly he knew it to be true. The things that Mary had saved, things that she had gathered, their baby didn’t need them, and the child before him did.
He looked at the baby once again, how beautiful and perfect she was. Was it okay to think that? But he was sure he couldn’t change his thoughts if he tried. She was a miracle wrapped in her mother’s arms. In fact, as far as he was concerned, they were both miracles.
“I really appreciate it,” she said.
Levi could only nod in response. Then he started to the door. He stopped there, turned back around to face his previously unwelcome houseguest. “I’ll go down and get some breakfast,” he said. “I figure after the night we had, we could sure use some bacon and eggs.”
* * *
Tillie started to shake her head, to tell Levi that it wasn’t necessary, but he was gone before she could say the words. She didn’t want him cooking for her, waiting on her hand and foot like she was an invalid. She had just had a baby, that was all. But she had only had a short nap since the time the baby came. And she was very hungry. Truth was, she wasn’t sure exactly how she was going to maneuver the stairs. But that wasn’t the first problem on her list. She unwrapped her baby from the dress she had swaddled her in and checked the makeshift diaper she had put on her.
Tillie had found a bandanna in the nightstand drawer. Perfect to use for a diaper, along with two small safety pins. Thankfully the baby hadn’t wet yet, but Tillie knew it was only a matter of time.
She loosely covered her baby girl again, then eased off the bed. She winced as the sore parts of her protested, but it had to be done. She stood, and with one hand braced against the small of her back, she started unloading the cradle he had brought up.
It had been no secret that he didn’t want her there, and she could only imagine how he felt about having her and the baby stranded due to the weather.
It would be days before the ice would melt, the roads would be cleared, and somebody could get through to them. And despite his gruff and sour demeanor, she knew that somewhere in that big chest of his, he had an equally big heart. There was no other explanation for his extreme generosity.
She unloaded a pack of diapers and pulled the plastic bag open. Her first thought was that she would replace them immediately, but diapers were not something he needed any longer, were they? There had to be something else she could do for him. At least she had a couple of days to think about it.
She quickly uncovered her baby girl and wrapped her in a diaper. And as easily as she could, she pulled one of the tiny gowns over the baby’s head. It was a surprisingly good fit, but the baby didn’t appreciate being disturbed from her midmorning nap. No matter though. It was cold.
As gently as she could, since she still harbored a fear of somehow breaking this tiny little thing the Lord had entrusted to her, Tillie slipped a hat on the baby’s head and impossibly small socks on her f
eet. She pulled a blanket from the cradle and wrapped her baby inside.
Tillie winced again as she bent over to empty the rest of the things from the cradle. She could only assume that he had brought everything up in the cradle because he intended for her to use it. So she emptied it and laid the baby inside.
She was about to crawl back into bed when she stopped. She’d had the baby with her since the minute she had been born, right next to her, side by side, and she felt a little lost with her even a foot away in the cradle. Tillie supposed that feeling would ease with time, but she didn’t want that time to be now. She turned back, scooped the baby into her arms, and climbed into bed once more.
She was just settling in when a knock sounded at the door. She’d been smelling all kinds of great aromas from the kitchen, and she still hadn’t figured out how she was going to navigate the stairs, especially with the baby in her arms. And she certainly didn’t want to leave her behind. So it was a conundrum.
Levi opened the door and let himself in. He carried a tray of food—two cups of coffee, a large stack of toast, and two plates piled high with bacon and eggs.
“You’re bringing breakfast to me?”
“I didn’t know if the stairs . . .” He turned a warm shade of pink.
She wasn’t sure if it was from the awe she heard in her own voice or the words he was speaking. Trying to speak. He didn’t seem to be able to get them out. But no matter; she understood.
“It might be a day or so before I’m ready to tackle the stairs.” She gave him a small smile. It was strange how two people could share such an intimate time and still be strangers, unaccustomed to the other.
He placed the tray next to her on the bed and pulled up the same chair he had used the night before. Then he took his plate, balancing it on his lap. Tillie bowed her head and wondered for a moment if he had any intention of praying before he ate. But she would never know. Once she prayed, he followed suit.
What did you expect?
He had lost so much. Was it a wonder that his faith was shaken? Perhaps even gone for a time? She hadn’t been through near that much, and her faith warbled like a broken buggy wheel.
“It’s good,” she said. And it was perhaps the best meal she had ever eaten.
“You’re just being kind,” he said. “But danki.”
“Thank you for the things for the baby.”
“You already thanked me for that.” He took a sip of his coffee.
“Then I’m thanking you again.” She gave him a smile.
He smiled in return but the action looked as if he hadn’t smiled in a long, long while. Or maybe she was just making stuff up.
“You have a name for her?” He nodded to the baby who lay close to her side.
“I don’t know.”
“You seemed pretty confident before she was born that she was a girl.” He shook his head. “Did you have one of those fancy English pictures done?”
“Early on. But too early to know the gender.” She wasn’t sure she would’ve wanted to find out anyway. She had the rest of her life to know what the baby was, a boy or girl. But only nine months to wonder and dream.
“So you didn’t pick out names?”
It wasn’t uncommon or even unheard-of in communities such as theirs that a woman didn’t pick out names for the baby until the baby came. Picking out names, buying too many items, making too many plans for a child that wasn’t born yet was somehow arrogant, and no one wanted to feel arrogant when it came to such a special matter.
“I was thinking about Michelle,” she said. “But she doesn’t look like a Michelle to me.” And it didn’t seem right to name a baby who was born so close to Christmas something like Michelle.
It was a great name. But just not Christmassy sounding.
The baby needed a Christmassy sounding name. Tillie wasn’t sure why. She just did.
And they shall call him Emmanuel.
“Emmanuela.” She said the name without thinking.
“Emmanuela?” From the sound of his tone she couldn’t tell if he thought the name was a good one or not.
Like it matters.
It wasn’t his baby. But somehow she wanted him to like the name she gave the baby. Because he helped bring the child into the world? Maybe. Or maybe just because she didn’t know what she would’ve done without him there. And she would’ve been alone had she managed to stay in the barn all night. It was a thought that didn’t bear thinking.
“Emmy?” she said. Emmanuela did seem like an awfully big name for such a tiny little baby, but Emmy seemed to fit just right.
Levi smiled. It was the same rusty one from a few moments before, but it seemed to be getting a little easier on his face. “Emmy,” he repeated. “I like it.”
The three words shouldn’t have filled her heart with such warmth and joy, but they did. And she wasn’t taking time now to examine why. “Emmanuela Dawn,” she said, trying out the middle name she had been contemplating. The baby had been born in the dead of night, but Dawn had a nice ring to it. There had been a woman she had worked with at the day care center named Dawn. She had been so nice to Tillie, always. Perhaps the nicest person she had met in her time in the English world. And Tillie liked the idea of naming the baby after her. Not that she would ever tell her mother that. Or her sisters, even.
The thought brought a smile to her lips.
“What’s so funny?” Levi had finished his food and started to restack the dishes on the tray.
Tillie shook her head, but she was still smiling. “Just thinking about my sisters.”
Levi stood and gazed down at little Emmy. “Thinking about what they’re going to think about her?” he asked.
“Jah,” she lied. But it was okay. She had been thinking about what her family was going to think about the baby girl she just had. Along with some other things that she would rather not think about just yet. Like how someone could consider such a beautiful child a mistake, or a sin, even. It was something she couldn’t fathom.
Because it goes against your own desires.
Because she wanted to raise her baby in the chaste confines of the Amish church. But if Melvin decided not to come back to the church, then what other choice did she have but to go back to him? She knew the rules. She had known when she broke them. She just never thought it would turn out quite like this.
Levi picked up the tray and started toward the door. “I’ll let you get some rest.”
She hadn’t realized until he said the words how very, very tired she was. She supposed it was to be expected. The rush she had experienced when she woke up and knew she was in labor had long since passed. She was fine, the baby was fine, they both had food in their bellies and warm clothes. They had a nice bed and a generous, gentle man who she supposed had been called by God to help them. It would be nothing now to lie back on the pillows and get some rest. Much-needed rest.
Levi closed the door behind him, and Tillie skootched down into the covers and lay her head on the pillow. She curled up on one side, Emmy still in the circle of her arms. It was amazing to just lie that way with her baby and not worry about church roles and wayward boyfriends. About her chastising congregation or how hard it was to live among the English. For the time being, all she had to worry about was herself, the baby, and maybe the man downstairs.
Chapter Sixteen
The sun was shining brightly through the window when Tillie woke next. She blinked, unsure of where she was for a second before everything came rushing back. A warmth filled her heart as she looked down at the face of her infant baby girl.
She had left in the middle of an ice storm, she had ended up at Levi Yoder’s house, and she had given birth during the night. A beautiful baby girl.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Levi.
“Come in.”
The door eased open, and there he stood, another tray in hand. “I wasn’t sure if you’d feel like coming downstairs.”
Tillie give her sleeping daughter one m
ore look, then pushed herself upright in the bed. She was sore and achy, but she couldn’t stay there forever. She would have to start getting around soon.
“How about for supper? That is, if the roads are clear,” she hopefully added. She had taken up too much of this man’s time already.
He shook his head, though she couldn’t read his expression. Was he remorseful, angry? He couldn’t be overjoyed. She was the epitome of everything he had lost. Why had things turned out so twisted?
“Maybe tomorrow?” she asked.
He gave a shrug and came into the room. He set the tray on the end of her bed, his blue eyes straying to where her daughter slept.
It was amazing to watch his features soften as he looked at her. And Tillie felt a surge of pride. She may have gone against everything she’d been taught growing up, but she couldn’t help but love this baby. The perfect little baby who came three weeks early in the midst of an ice storm.
“Maybe.” Levi shifted his gaze back to her. “I don’t figure there’ll be many buggies out, but maybe some English cars. I can still walk over to my neighbors’ house if you want.”
Her stomach rumbled as the smell of the food he had brought in reached her. “That smells delicious.”
He nodded. “Mims made it. My sister.”
Tillie smiled. “I remember Mims.”
Actually, Mims was kind of unforgettable. Like a young Eunice. Forceful and in charge, yet somehow lovable all the same.
“She means well,” Levi said with a chuckle.
“Sisters always do,” she quipped.
He nodded toward the door. “I’ll just . . .”
Tillie pulled the tray closer to her. “You don’t have to go. In fact, I’d rather not eat alone.”
He stopped, his blue eyes assessing. “I have one of those little soft baby chairs. We could put her in it, if you wanted to come downstairs. I think it’s a little warmer down there anyway. Are you up to that?”
Surprisingly, she was. “I’d feel better if you took the baby down.” She wasn’t sure how strong her legs would be, and she surely didn’t want to take any chances. She had thought it would take her a couple of days to get downstairs, but if Levi was willing to carry Emmy, Tillie figured she’d be able to make it too.
