An Amish Husband for Tillie

by Amy Lillard

  “Eleven,” he corrected, but what difference did it really make? He was probably going to end up with four or five of the little mutts himself. But seeing as how lonely his farm had gotten since Mary and the baby died and Tillie and Emmy had left, four or five puppies sounded like right good company.

  “I might know some people,” Tillie said. “If you don’t mind them going to English homes. They’re good homes,” she added.

  English homes. It didn’t matter to him as long as they had good owners, but bringing up the English world just served to remind him that she’d had a life elsewhere. She and Melvin had shared an apartment and they had that life to go back to and correct before they could come back and join the church. But it wouldn’t be long before he got to see her all the time. As Melvin’s wife. It was not a comforting thought. And it should have been. They were doing what God had intended, what He had planned. Maybe a little late, maybe a little backward, but that was it. They had a baby; they should be married. Husband and wife. It was just the way it was.

  * * *

  Levi wasn’t sure how he found himself alone with Tillie on the front porch some time later. Hannah was still inside saying her goodbyes, and this was the first time he’d had a chance to talk to her alone in so very long.

  “I’m very happy for you and Melvin,” he said. It wasn’t an outright lie. He was happy for them. But something about it bothered him all the same, though he couldn’t lay his finger on just what it was.

  Maybe it was just that strange connection he felt to her and Emmy, and he wanted to protect her. Like a big brother.

  Jah, that’s what it was like. A big brother thing. It couldn’t be more than that. And it probably never would be. But he just wanted to make sure that Melvin made her happy. It would be a long time before Levi himself would remarry. And why that thought followed the idea of Tillie and Melvin getting married was beyond him. When he got remarried didn’t matter a hill of beans. Only that Tillie and Melvin and baby Emmy were happy.

  “Danki,” she said. Though he could hear the strangled quality in her voice. Did she feel as he did, that the situation was somehow off?

  No. It couldn’t be. It was turning out just the way it was supposed to be. Tillie and Melvin. They had been a thing for a long long time.

  “I’m sure your mamm is very happy. And Abner.” He knew as well as any that Abner was a hard man. He was fair and he was caring, but he followed the Ordnung above all else. God was his compass. And that was just the way it was. Levi couldn’t imagine that Abner would be very flexible about a daughter coming home the way that Tillie had. He would never stop loving her, but there were some things that were harder to accept. Melvin marrying Tillie would correct all that, and over time he could be just a father again.

  “They’re happy.” But she didn’t sound happy about that.

  He wanted to ask more, but Hannah stepped out onto the porch, still chattering away about the benefits of whipped butter over not.

  There was something more he wanted to say to Tillie, but he just didn’t know what it was. It hovered in the back of his mind like a bee buzzing around one’s head. He would reach out, trying to catch it, but it would slip away, only to return a moment later to start the process all over again.

  She turned to him and gave him a pretty smile. Her hazel eyes twinkled. She would be happy. Melvin would make her happy, and that was all that mattered.

  “Merry Christmas,” she said.

  He cleared his throat, doing his best to talk past the lump there. “Merry Christmas,” he returned.

  * * *

  “Are you okay to walk down to the house by yourself?” Hannah asked as they turned down the lane leading to the Gingeriches’.

  “I’m fine,” Tillie said. The exercise would be good for her. She was still a little sore, but that was to be expected. It had only been a couple of weeks since she’d had the baby. But as they pulled closer, they noticed that someone had moved the tree from the road. Not all the way, just pushed to the side enough that a buggy could get past. And that meant one thing for certain. The bishop was coming.

  Tillie’s heart thumped in her chest. It was to be expected. It would be uncomfortable and even hard, but they would get through it. She and Melvin because they had been a team from the get-go. They were parents now of a beautiful baby girl. They had shared a lot together out there in the English world. But thankfully, thankfully, they were returning home. And it would take a while to smooth out all the rough edges of the mess they had made, but soon, so very soon, they would be living the life they had dreamed of for so long. The thought should have been comforting, but somehow it felt almost impossible.

  And for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why.

  * * *

  “The bishop’s coming to dinner tomorrow,” Mamm said over their evening meal.

  Tillie lost her grip on her fork, and it clattered to her plate. She shouldn’t be surprised; she had known it was coming. But somehow it all seemed a little shocking as well. Tomorrow.

  “Are you okay?” Melvin asked. He had been the epitome of gentlemen, a caring, loving father.

  “Jah,” she said.

  The bishop was coming and that meant that sometime before the beginning of the year, she and Melvin would make the trip back to Columbus. They would get their things from the apartment they had shared and close off what they had of an English life. Then hopefully by January they would be able to start their new life together.

  The life she had always dreamed of. So why wasn’t the thought as reassuring as it should have been?

  She couldn’t answer that question. The more she thought about it, the more it made her head ache. So she pushed the thought away and concentrated on her supper. But soon, very soon, she was going to have to figure out what it all meant.

  * * *

  “What are you doing out here?” Melvin asked. “It’s cold.”

  Tillie pulled her blanket a little closer around her as she rocked the porch swing with the heels of both feet. “I’m warm enough. I just needed some air.”

  “Why do I feel there’s something more?” Melvin asked. He shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way over to her. She stopped the swing so he could sit down beside her.

  “I don’t know. It’s just a lot of changes right now. I think that’s all.” And hormones. They seemed to be getting the best of her on a regular basis these days.

  “Tillie, we’ve known each other all our lives. Why are you picking now to start lying to me?”

  “I’m not—”

  “Don’t even,” he said with a shake of his head.

  She exhaled, relaxed her stance, only then realizing how tense she had been. She had been lying. Lying about a lot of things. The truth was she did know what she wanted, but it was something she knew she couldn’t have.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I don’t think I can marry you.”

  Melvin drew back a bit. “Maybe we should have this conversation someplace a bit warmer.”

  He was right.

  Tillie stood. “Where?” she asked.

  “Surely there’s someplace in the house where we can have a measure of privacy.”

  Tillie nodded. “Follow me.” She led the way into the house through the dining room and back to the sewing room. It was chilly in there since the door was always closed, but at least there was no wind and no people to hear what they had to say to each other.

  “You don’t think you can marry me?” Melvin asked a second after she shut the door behind them. “Why not?”

  Tillie’s heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to call the words back as much as she needed to explain them. “I can’t see you staying here for the rest of your life.”

  She could tell from the look on his face that she had hit her mark.

  “You want to stay here, don’t you? Raise Emmy among the Amish? In order for you to have the life you want, that’s what I have to do,” he said. The words held an ominous ring.

&n
bsp; “But if you marry me, you won’t have the life you want,” she pointed out.

  He didn’t say a word, just looked at her.

  The situation was hopeless and she had just now allowed herself to admit it. “So what do we do?” she asked.

  Melvin gave her a sad little smile. “What do you want to do?”

  It wasn’t that simple. She wanted to stay with her family, but she couldn’t . . . she wouldn’t do that to Melvin. He was so very happy in his new life. She might not love him any longer, but she surely couldn’t see herself making his life miserable. What good would that do either of them?

  “I promised I would marry you. Stand by you,” he said. “But it has to be what you want. I thought it was what you wanted.”

  “Me too,” she said. “But I need to know what you want.”

  “I asked you first.”

  Tillie flopped down on the bed, letting out an exasperated sigh. A box of fabric fell to the floor, but she didn’t bend to pick it up. “Don’t do this, Melvin. Have that much respect for me.”

  “You think I don’t respect you?” he asked. “I love you, Tillie.”

  But not enough to stay with her and raise their daughter in the lifestyle and community where they had been brought up.

  “But I don’t think you love me anymore,” he said.

  “I do,” she promised, but it was different now. She didn’t have to tell him that. She knew he could tell. Their time in Columbus had changed that love. His new lifestyle, his new priorities, his new everything had caused a riff between them. One she didn’t think she could ever bridge.

  “What’s it going to be, Tillie?”

  She shook her head. There was no sense in prolonging it further. “I appreciate the offer,” she said, sounding like a true English girl. “But I won’t marry you.”

  “You won’t marry me anywhere, or you won’t marry me unless I come back to the Amish?”

  “Melvin.” His name was a plea on her lips. That wasn’t fair. She would have to marry him in order to return to their community. There was no way around that one. And despite that stipulation she still wanted to return. But not with that stipulation. Sometimes the things we want remain the things we wished we had.

  He shook his head. “Don’t do this, Tillie. Have enough respect for me now to answer that question.”

  “You don’t want to stay Amish, so there’s not a point in answering.”

  “I like being English,” he said, even though it was obvious.

  “I don’t,” she said.

  “You never took to it, Til. You dress like a nun and don’t want to go to parties.”

  “I only left here for you.” And she knew how miserable that had made her. If she made Melvin come back, then he would be just as miserable. If she went English, or even Mennonite, she might be able to see her folks from time to time. Shunning wasn’t quite as strict as it had been in the past. She might not be able to live as the Amish live, but that didn’t mean she had to make both of them miserable.

  Because if she made him come back—and she knew he would for her; well, for Emmy—then she would hate herself, and he would hate her too, eventually. What good would that do anyone?

  “I don’t know what I want.”

  “I don’t think that’s the truth,” he said. His voice was sad, gentle, and a little prodding.

  “I can’t have what I want.” It was the truth, at least. She wanted to raise her daughter in their Amish community. She wanted people to stop staring at her when she went places, and she wanted to go back to before she had made all the mistakes that had changed her life so drastically.

  No. That last one wasn’t the truth. Going back would mean no Emmy, and that was something she couldn’t imagine.

  “Then what’s the plan?” he asked.

  She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Go back, I guess. I’m going to try and get my job back.”

  “But you don’t want to marry me.” The words almost formed a question.

  “Do you want to marry me?” she countered.

  He blew out an exasperated sigh. “Do you think for a moment that we can stop talking in riddles?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. But the truth was so much harder to say. “I know your English friends talked you out of marrying me.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t them so much. I was just trying to break away from everything.” Amish rules, he meant.

  “You had almost nine months to marry me. And you didn’t. Why the rush now?”

  “Because I thought it’s what you wanted.”

  There had been a time, a long while, when she had wanted to be married to Melvin, had dreamed of nothing else. But those dreams were shattered now, lost in the light of a new life and the ashes of an old life she could never return to.

  “I guess that’s my answer,” he said.

  Maybe she was more English than she realized.

  “I’ll take care of you and Emmy,” he said. “Give you money and such.”

  She nodded.

  “You can stay with me until you find a place to live. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said before she could turn him down. She was grateful for the addition. She had been worrying about what to do, where she and Emmy were going to stay.

  “But when you move out, you’ll still let me see her, right?” he asked.

  “Of course. I wouldn’t keep her from you.”

  His shoulders slumped in relief. “I’ve got a buddy who hasn’t seen his son in two years.”

  That was terrible, but she had no plans to keep Melvin from Emmy. He was her father, after all. “You can see her whenever you like.”

  “So it’s settled, then,” he said.

  She drew in a deep breath. “It’s settled.”

  “Are you going to tell your parents?”

  “Not all of it,” she replied. “Just that you and I are going back to the English world.” The thought unsettled her stomach, but it was done. It was what had to be.

  So why did Levi Yoder once again pop into her thoughts?

  “It’s Second Christmas,” he said. “I don’t suppose we need to say much else. It might ruin the holiday spirit.”

  She nodded. “That is one thing we can agree on.”

  * * *

  She should tell them all, right now. There was no sense in going through all the talk with the bishop tonight, no sense in putting her family through all that stress. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Her mamm was so happily bustling around the kitchen, getting things ready for supper.

  Tillie couldn’t bring herself to kill that jovial mood and break her heart.

  “Dat told me to come in and tell you that we’re going to move the tree,” David said from the kitchen door.

  “So the man’s here?” Mamm asked.

  David nodded.

  Their father had rented a tractor for the day to move the tree from blocking the road to the house. The ice storm had gotten the better of it and, mixed with disease, hobbled mighty oak. Part of it was still good and could be chopped into firewood, or maybe even a tabletop for the English. She had heard her father talking about it the night before. Just one more thing for the Gingeriches to discuss with the bishop.

  “Melvin’s already on his way up there. I told everyone I would stop and tell you where we are. Just in case you need one of us.”

  “Danki,” Mamm said.

  David gave them both a smile and disappeared back to the front of the house. Moments later they heard the screen door slam. Mamm shook her head. “I never did manage to get that boy to shut that door quietly.”

  But that was just David.

  From her place on the table in her snug little baby carrier, Emmy started to fuss.

  “I think it’s that time again,” Tillie said. She unbuckled the baby and picked her up. Emmy stretched like she was prone to do.

  Mamm turned from the stove, waving a hand in front of her nose. “Phew! I think it’s time to change her too.”

  Tillie
wrinkled her nose with a small nod and a smile. “I think you’re right.”

  She took the baby to the other room to change her diaper and feed her. In a couple of days she and Emmy would move to Columbus with Melvin. The thought was perplexing; it made her happy and sad at the same time. She was happy for Melvin, and she knew that eventually she could be happy in the English world, but she knew that her leaving would once again break her mamm’s heart. Someone’s feelings would have to be sacrificed. She was just not so happy that it was her mamm’s. But Mamm was tough; tougher than Tillie. It might take a while, but they would all heal.

  She took a clean and fed Emmy back to the kitchen, where her mamm was still bustling around. Tillie was certain Mamm hadn’t cooked this big of a meal for Christmas, but Tillie knew that she wanted everything to go off without a hitch. A well-fed man was a little more yielding.

  But the problem was she didn’t need to go to all this trouble, and Tillie should tell her now. She supposed she could talk to her dat about it when they got done with the tree. But tonight’s dinner would not be about Tillie and Melvin joining the church; instead, it would be about her father and his plan to build stools and sell them to the English.

  “Mamm,” she started as she settled Emmy back into her seat on the table. “I think I should tell you something.”

  Her mamm turned around slowly, as if she knew she wasn’t going to like what Tillie had to say. “You think?”

  “I mean, I know. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  Mamm wiped her hands on her apron and waited for Tillie to continue.

  She just didn’t know where to find the words. How could she, when she knew what she had to say would break her mamm’s heart in two? She inhaled, opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  She tried again, but this time her effort was interrupted as her brother David rushed into the room. His face was red from the cold, his nose running, and his eyes filled with tears. “Come quick,” he hollered. “There’s been an accident.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A funeral was always a solemn occasion, but a funeral at Christmastime was especially sad.

  It was a gray and drizzly day when they buried him, the crowd a sea of black umbrellas as they laid him to rest. Tillie could only stare at the mound of dirt in shock. Mamm stood next to her, dabbing her eyes. Hannah, Leah, and Gracie stood on the other side of her. She just couldn’t believe it.