by Amy Lillard
“Right,” Leah stated. “As I see it, he would be here in a heartbeat if he knew you’d had the baby.”
Which was the exact reason why Tillie hadn’t told him yet. She had been holding out the hope that he would come for her. That maybe he missed her and would travel all that way to be beside her, come what may. If she told him about Emmy and he came now, Tillie would always believe that he only came because she’d had the baby.
“As he should,” Hannah said.
“But Tillie’s not telling him and then holding it against him when he doesn’t show up.”
She shook her head. “That’s not exactly the truth.”
“It’s close enough,” Leah said. “You aren’t giving the poor man a chance.”
* * *
The words echoed around inside Tillie’s head as she lay in bed and stared into the darkness. Had she kept Melvin’s chances from him? Was Leah right that Tillie wasn’t playing fair with him? He needed the chance to come see her, see the baby, tell them that he missed them. That was all she really wanted, wasn’t it?
Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she wanted any longer.
She rolled over and punched her pillow, trying to get it into a more comfortable shape.
It was Wednesday. Christmas was only four days away. Four days and she would have to leave the community. Four days and she would either move in with Leah and her family or she would be forced to go back to the apartment she had shared with Melvin.
Forced. Was that really how she felt about it?
It was one thing to want to stay, to need to be close to her family, but it was quite another to literally dread leaving. And she did. Even if she didn’t return to Columbus, she dreaded the leaving. She didn’t want to say goodbye, she didn’t want to leave it all behind. She had made the mistake of leaving to begin with. Leaving again would just compound it. But what else could she do?
You could try to talk Melvin into staying.
He might. Maybe for her. After all, she had left for him. Perhaps he had grown bored with all the English freedoms. She had learned the hard way that some freedoms weren’t all they were cracked up to be. Maybe Melvin was ready to recommit to her and the baby and possibly even join the church. And there was only one way to find out. She had to call him. Tomorrow. She needed to tell him as soon as possible that they had a little girl, a perfect baby girl, and that Tillie wanted him to come back.
Maybe she wouldn’t tell him that last part right away. She had to save something for later on. No sense in hitting him with everything at once.
Yes, she decided. It was time that she called Melvin, had him join her for Christmas, maybe. And then he would have the chance to do what they all, including Levi, had already done—fall in love with Emmy.
* * *
“So it’s a Tuesday normally, a Wednesday when you’re busy on Tuesday, and a Thursday if you’re busy on Wednesday and Tuesday. Am I getting this right?” Tillie asked. Once again, she was seated at the dining room table surrounded by overpowering scents and bottles of goat milk lotion.
“Got it in one,” Leah said.
“I still can’t believe how many orders the website brought in,” Gracie said with a shake of her head.
“The Internet is where it’s at,” Leah said.
“I think next year we should put a time limit on when they can order to have it for Christmas,” Hannah said.
“Good idea,” Gracie said. “I think. Only what happens if they order after that?”
Leah shook her head. “I’m not really sure. We’ll have to figure it all out. But Hannah’s right; we need a deadline so that we can start preparing for the next holiday.”
“Valentine’s Day?” Tillie asked.
“Chocolate-scented lotion,” Gracie said. The smile on her face showed how proud she was of her unusual creative streak.
“You know,” Hannah said. “That’s not quite a bad idea.”
“Or we can mix scents and name them after famous couples,” Leah added. “Like Romeo and Juliet.”
“Samson and Delilah?” Gracie laughed.
Hannah pushed back her chair and stood. “Some of this stuff might be good. I’ll go get a piece of paper and pen.” She bustled from the room while Leah and Gracie laughed and Tillie tried not to be jealous.
Just a couple more days and she would be forced to leave Pontotoc. Unless the impossible happened—unless she could manage to talk Melvin into staying, confessing, and marrying her.
Like a flash of light in the dark, Levi’s face appeared in her thoughts.
It was perplexing, to say the least. Why was she thinking about Levi Yoder at a time like this?
But she knew, in her heart. Levi Yoder was a good man. He had been hurt, practically devastated, by the loss of his wife and child. And yet he had taken her in, given her and Emmy more than they had a right to ask for. She found herself with him never far from her thoughts. But that was an impossibility. Worse than Romeo and Juliet, worse than Samson and Delilah. Even if she stayed in their community—and she wasn’t going to be allowed to—but after confessing, going through baptism classes, and finally joining the church . . . Who would say Levi would even want her after all that?
Who said he wants you now?
His loss was fresh. But by the time she went through all those steps, he probably would have already found somebody else.
She shook her head at herself. Her thoughts were going all over the place like one of those super bouncing balls kids get out of the gumball machines.
“What’s wrong?” Leah asked.
“Nothing,” Tillie said.
Leah shot her a look. “We all know that that’s not the truth.”
Hannah picked that moment to come back into the room, pen and paper in hand. “What’s not the truth?”
“Tillie is claiming that nothing’s wrong today.”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” she said.
“You say that and it’s just like saying nothing at all,” Leah chastised.
“Are you going into town to call him today?” Gracie asked.
“I can take you in my car if you like,” Leah offered. “We can go to my store and use the phone there.”
“And you can take a lot of these lotions with you at the same time,” Hannah said. “Two birds.”
“Jah. I suppose I must.” Her conviction of the night before had faded to gray in the morning light. In the dark hours she’d been confident that calling Melvin and telling him about Emmy was the greatest idea ever. Now she merely felt like it was the only idea she had. The only choice she had.
She supposed it was. The man deserved to know that his child had been born. But for Tillie it was more than that. Would he forgive her for walking out? Would he want to take her back? Would he help her raise Emmy? And the biggest one of all, could they do it Amish?
Chapter Twenty-One
“I really appreciate this,” Tillie said. She and Leah had just pulled up into the parking space behind Twice Blessed. Still, the thought of contacting Melvin made her stomach plummet like it had the time she rode the roller coaster when the fair came to town. But she was excited to see her sister’s secondhand store.
Leah pocketed her keys and together they walked around to the front of the building. “We park in the back so there’s plenty of space out front for customers,” she said. “And the Amish bring their buggies back here so their horses aren’t on the main street,” she added.
Tillie had been surprised to see a buggy parked behind the shop, but it wasn’t like horse and carriages were unheard-of in Pontotoc. Any time of day there would be two or three parked at Walmart. It was simply a part of life. But she hadn’t considered the idea of her Amish friends and neighbors shopping at Leah’s store. The thought made her miss her community all the more. It was ridiculous, but there it was.
“You don’t go in the back door?” Tillie asked as they rounded the corner to the front facing Main.
“Sometimes,” Leah said. “But since there’s a buggy i
n the back, I figure there’s an Amish person in the storeroom looking at the Amish exchange clothes.”
Her sister went on to explain how she kept Amish clothing in the back in a special place so people could come and take as they needed and give back if they wanted to. She charged nothing for the service. It was just something Leah wanted to give to the community where she had grown up.
Tillie looked around as they stepped inside. But her perusal was interrupted when Brandon caught sight of them.
“Tillie! And Leah!” he greeted, walking to the front of the store as he spoke. “I wasn’t expecting you today. Isn’t it cousins’ day part three?”
Leah affectionately patted him on the cheek. “You should be glad I like your sass,” she said. She passed him her car keys. “There are two boxes of lotions and soaps in the trunk. One needs to go to the back where we can get it ready to ship and the other one needs to come up front for the shelves. They’re marked.”
Brandon took the keys from her and nodded. “You just like my work ethic. Because you know you can treat me like a slave.”
Leah smiled at him and shook her head. “Buy you lunch?”
“Boondocks Grill?”
Leah rolled her eyes. “You’re going to turn into a fried green tomato,” she said.
Brandon grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”
Tillie watched the exchange between aunt and nephew. They really were close, and it had all happened in the time that she had been gone. And if Melvin . . . She stopped that thought. She couldn’t think that far in advance. She had to keep her perspective. First thing was to tell him about the baby, second thing was to hope that he came to visit. And the third thing was praying that everything fell in line from there.
“The phone’s over there when you have a mind,” Leah said, pointing to a charging station with a cordless phone in the cradle. “Or do you want a tour of the store first?”
Tillie nodded. “Jah, please.” She did want to see her sister’s store and all the hard work she put into the enterprise, but it didn’t hurt that it delayed, even if for just a bit, her calling Melvin.
“So you can see the shelves where we keep the lotions and soaps. We have a lot of people come in from outside just out of curiosity.”
“And they come in just for the lotion?”
“Sometimes. I think the red labels help. Brandon and Shelly designed it for us. I think they did a good job.”
“Me too,” Tillie agreed. “And they’re not . . . ?” She didn’t have to finish the sentence.
Leah shrugged. “They say not, but I think they’re really good together.”
“Well, the display does look pretty.”
Leah had constructed wooden shelves on which to stack the bottles of lotion and cakes of soap. Most were stored in mismatched baskets, a display that somehow had a country charm even though it lacked consistency. The bars of soap were wrapped in cellophane and tied with a red bow. A deep red crimson, like Christmas. The label itself had a logo with a curly-cue G and S intertwined.
“Gingerich Sisters,” she said.
“Or Glick,” Leah added.
Gracie might not be their sister by birth, but she was as close as.
“I try to keep hot ticket items toward the front. This time of year, it’s small appliances, books, sweaters—things that people can give as Christmas gifts. It all shifts come the next holiday or if I see something is in good demand.”
“In demand?” Tillie had no idea secondhand items could come into demand.
“Yeah. June is good for dishes, due to all the English weddings. Picture frames and that sort of thing for May, with the graduations. And then sometimes things go in demand just because. Like microwaves.”
“Microwaves?” Tillie asked. They’d had a microwave at the day care center and used it to reheat things, mostly coffee that had gotten cold while they were working with the kids. It was a convenient something to have, but Tillie couldn’t imagine it coming in “demand.”
“‘Mine is not to reason why,’” Leah quipped. “The rest of the household goods are behind the front area, clothes behind that, and then the Amish in the back. That way Amish can come in through the back door and leave and not have to worry any with the front, and their horses are safe behind the building.”
“It’s a good setup,” Tillie said. She was proud of her sister. And impressed. Briefly she wondered if Leah might have a place for her on staff. But could she really stay so close to home and not be a part of the community she loved and missed?
As much as she wanted to say yes, she knew the answer was no. If she couldn’t stay in Pontotoc, if she couldn’t live with the Amish, if she couldn’t join the church and be a part of the community where she had grown up, she was going to have to move away. It would just be too painful to be so close and an outsider.
Voices from the back of the store reached her. Brandon was coming in the back with the lotion and soaps that he had gotten out of the car. He must have stopped to talk to the Amish woman whose buggy was parked out back. Her voice sounded familiar, but with so much tumbling around inside her head as she took in Leah’s store and tried not to think about calling Melvin, Tillie couldn’t quite place it.
“Let me check,” Brandon said. A moment later he appeared from the back of the store carrying the box labeled DISPLAY. “Aunt Leah, the lady in the back wants to know if you would be interested in adding any baby furniture to the section.”
“The Amish section?” Leah asked.
“You want to talk to her?” he asked.
Leah nodded and walked to the back of the store. Unsure of what to do with herself, Tillie followed behind.
“Hi,” Leah greeted the woman. She turned and Tillie was surprised to see that it was Mims Yoder.
“Tillie! It’s so good to see you.” Mims’s greeting sounded genuine enough, yet Tillie couldn’t help but wonder what the chances were of running into her at Leah’s store.
“You too,” Tillie murmured.
“You wanted to talk about furniture?” Leah asked. “Baby furniture?”
Mims cast a hesitant look toward Tillie, then answered. “My brother has some furniture.” Tillie knew the exact moment when Leah realized who she was talking to. A change came over her sister, not good or bad—she just held herself differently.
“I’m so sorry,” Leah replied.
Mims nodded. “I just didn’t know if maybe someone could use the things, and I wanted to make sure that it got to the person who might need them the most.”
“I don’t normally trade furniture, but if you would like you can put it in the store on consignment. I’ll keep a small portion and help you sell it and get it out of the house, if that’s something that you need, and I’ll keep it until it sells.”
“I was thinking more of a donation to a person,” Mims said. “There’s a beautiful changing table and a crib.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Leah said. “We have a small staff here, and we communicate well. We could put a tag on it and try to sell it. That way if somebody needs it and they can afford to buy it, they can. But if somebody has a need for it and can’t purchase it, then we will add it into the exchange. When they’re finished using it, they can bring it back for a second round. Or pass it on. You know, pay it forward.”
Leah, with all her brashness and sassy attitude, never ceased to amaze Tillie with her generosity.
Mims visibly relaxed. Tillie knew right away that she liked the idea. “That sounds great. I’ll talk to my brother about it.” Then she turned to Tillie and held out two tiny dresses and an impossibly small prayer kapp. “I found these back there. I thought you might could use them.” Then she turned to Leah. “I didn’t leave baby clothes, but I left a couple of dresses of mine that have gotten a bit snug.” She tugged at her trim waistline. Where she put a couple of extra pounds Tillie had no idea. At this rate she never thought she would get rid of the bulging belly she still carried. It was another thing no one told you: after you have the baby y
ou still look like you are going to have a baby. For much longer than any woman wants to.
“Danki,” Tillie said, and told herself not to cry. It seemed Levi had a sister much like her own. Mims could be just as sassy and bossy as Leah, but they both had hearts as big as everything.
Mims turned back to Leah. “I’ll let you know,” she said.
Leah smiled and gave a small nod. “I’m looking forward to it.”
With a small wave, Mims turned and made her way into the back of the store, to the back door where she had entered before.
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Leah said.
“I don’t want to take these dresses,” Tillie said. It wasn’t that baby Emmy couldn’t use them. They were poor, but not destitute. She didn’t want to take from someone who might need them more than she.
“She came out of the back room with those,” Leah said. “Before she knew you were here. She came here looking for something for your baby. I say you keep them. No, I insist.”
“Danki,” Tillie said. “Though if Melvin doesn’t come . . .” She didn’t finish that sentence. If Melvin didn’t come, then she surely wouldn’t stay, and if she didn’t stay, Emmy would not need the dresses after all.
“Consider it a beacon of hope,” Leah said.
Tillie ran her fingers over the fabric and let out a rueful chuckle. “Beacon of hope. Got it.”
“Are you ready to call now?” Leah asked.
“Jah, I suppose. As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Once again Leah nodded toward the phone.
Tillie’s palms grew damp as she walked toward it. There was a stool behind the little desk where the phone sat. She supposed she could sit there if her knees got weak. Got weak? They were already trembling like a sapling in the wind.
How could one phone call hold her entire fate? The decision of one man decided where she lived and even how she lived. It didn’t seem fair, and yet those were the rules.
“There’s always room at my church,” Leah said softly.
Tillie sat on the stool and smiled at her sister. She knew what Leah meant. There was always an answer. It might not be the answer you wanted, but there was always an answer.
