The Proving

by Beverly Lewis

  The room felt stuffy and closed up, and she wished Josiah or Lois might open a window, but it was not her request to make.

  Arie Mae’s head turned slightly toward the midwife. “Where’s Mandy Sue?” she murmured. “Is she comin’?”

  “I’m here,” Mandy said, quickly reaching for her sister’s hand. “Right beside you.”

  Arie gazed at Mandy without making a sound, almost as though in a daze—until the next hard contraction came.

  Hearing the intense moans, Mandy’s heart went out to her sister.

  “It’s too soon to push,” Lois said, standing over Arie now, leaning near. “Work with me the way we discussed, dear.”

  When the contraction ceased and a calm came over the room once again, Mandy wrapped both her hands around Arie’s and felt how cold and clammy they were. “You’ve been in my prayers tonight,” Mandy said softly.

  “Just routine, the midwife says. . . . Puh, could’ve fooled me!” Arie said.

  “You’ll be fine,” Mandy said. “I just know it.”

  Arie nodded weakly.

  Lois removed the washcloth from Arie’s brow and went to the dresser, where she poured more water from the blue-and-white-speckled pitcher into a large matching bowl. Returning, she once more placed the cool cloth on Arie’s forehead.

  Sighing loudly, Arie whispered, “Mandy Sue, if somethin’ should happen and I don’t make it . . .”

  “Please, ya mustn’t talk like that.” Mandy kissed the back of her hand. “Remember what Mamma always taught us when we were little? God is with us always. Never will He leave us; never will He forsake us. The Lord is our help and strength in times of trouble.”

  “But it happens.” Arie gasped. “Remember Uncle Albert’s wife? She died in childbirth.”

  “But she was much older, sister.”

  Arie gripped Mandy’s hand as she groaned again, a long, low sound that caused Josiah to turn abruptly from the window and step to the foot of the bed. “I’m gonna call for an ambulance,” he announced.

  Lois frowned, clearly not in agreement. Even so, this was Josiah’s first child, and Arie Mae seemed in a terrible way. And because Mandy had never been in the room during the delivery of a child, she didn’t know who was right—Josiah or the midwife.

  Josiah did not wait for his declaration to be validated; he left the room, and Mandy glanced again at the midwife, wanting to know what she thought. But Arie grabbed Mandy’s hand again, lips moving without a sound, and Mandy leaned close.

  “Do ya remember when you had bronchitis?” Arie asked now. “When I sat by your bed?”

  Mandy had never forgotten. The roles had been reversed then, with Mandy confined to her bed and Arie Mae sitting with her by the hour, reading aloud from her favorite books, changing the cloth to cool her fevered brow. “But she’s my twin,” Arie had protested when Mamma had voiced concern that they’d both come down with it.

  “I really need to talk ’bout some things, Mandy.” Now Arie was crying.

  Mandy reached over and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Shh . . . just try an’ rest, all right?”

  Shaking her head, Arie became even more restless. “I’m sorry, Mandy . . . for all the pain I caused ya. For what I did.”

  “Please don’t think of that now,” she told Arie Mae, trying to soothe her.

  Arie strained to raise her head off the pillow. “But do ya forgive me?”

  Of course I do, Mandy almost protested, but something stopped her. Do I? she wondered, looking into her own heart and remembering the day Arie had returned to work at Butterfly Meadows. Mandy had insisted on not discussing the past, but in so doing, she had denied Arie the chance to unburden herself.

  Tears sprang to her eyes suddenly. “I forgive you, my precious sister. I do,” she insisted, meaning it.

  Arie tugged on the sheet, practically knotting it in her duress. “There’s something more,” she whimpered. “Mamma was wrong. . . .”

  “Arie, you mustn’t—”

  “Nee, listen to me. It was in the heat of the moment—she didn’t mean to tell you to leave. She always regretted it.” Arie gasped now, her face beet red as she tried not to scream in pain while the next contraction overtook her.

  “We can talk ’bout this later,” Mandy said, eyeing Lois, not sure how to calm Arie Mae.

  Josiah’s mother came to Arie and talked softly through the contraction, assuring her that the pain was normal and wouldn’t last much longer.

  But Arie shook her head, eyes wide with fear as she looked only at Mandy.

  Seeing her sister in such awful straits, Mandy clenched her jaw. “You’ll be holdin’ your baby in your arms ever so soon,” she said as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed once the contraction had let up. “Your wee babe is comin’, sister.”

  “Do ya believe . . . what I told ya?” Arie Mae pleaded.

  “I certainly do.” Mandy gently told her that their mother had written an earnest apology years ago. “Maybe ya didn’t know.”

  Arie shook her head. “Des gut . . . Mamma didn’t tell me. Ah gut . . .”

  The sweet smile that was Arie’s alone spread across her lips, and when she closed her eyes, her slender hand felt warm and relaxed in Mandy’s.

  Lois Ackerman asked that the room be vacated, except for Mandy, and within the hour, the sound of the baby’s first cries echoed from the rafters all the way downstairs without an ambulance ever being summoned. Mandy wondered if Josiah’s Dat had eased the young new father’s fears, and she was glad that any interference from the outside world had been unnecessary.

  Mandy had the unique pleasure of calling for Josiah to come and meet his healthy baby daughter. Arie Mae snuggled with the wee one, pressing her face next to the infant’s, tears falling onto her head like an anointing as she thanked her dear Lord and heavenly Father for this most precious gift.

  Mandy believed with all her heart that she was supposed to have witnessed this miracle of life—her tiny niece, so pink and plump and strong.

  Had the Lord awakened Mandy to be there for her sister? Mandy believed so, and she watched fondly as Josiah took his daughter in his arms for the first time. When Arie Mae asked him to give the baby to Mandy, the cherished moment was forever embedded in her memory.

  Later, as the sun’s first rays began to rise from the eastern horizon, Mandy reluctantly left her sister’s little one to walk back toward the inn, embracing the new day.

  Though tired from the absence of a full night’s sleep, Mandy felt sustained by the truly remarkable experience. And for the first time in years, she felt free.

  I was foolish to wait so long to forgive, she realized. Forgive me, dear Lord.

  Moving to the window, Mandy looked out across the field toward Arie Mae’s and smiled. Thank You for keeping my sister safe.

  With renewed joy, she went about the morning sharing the baby news with her guests. One of the women asked if a name had been chosen yet, and Mandy said it was probably too soon for that.

  “Don’t the Amish pick out names beforehand?” another woman asked, apparently eager to know more.

  “Some do, jah.” Mandy explained that, historically, the People had used only a few traditional first names—mostly biblical ones—but in more recent decades, Amish parents had begun to select names that were more common to Englischers.

  This seemed to come as a surprise to some, and as Mandy talked with them further, she realized she was enjoying herself immensely.

  “Will your sister permit any pictures of the baby?” asked one first-time guest.

  “Well, some young parents do privately take photos of their little children.” Goodness, Mandy felt almost like a teacher today.

  And all the day long, Mandy felt as light as the rose petals on Mamma’s white trellis, knowing she and Arie Mae had reconciled in that frightening yet wonderful hour . . . one of new birth all around.

  The morning of the following Lord’s Day—a no-Preaching Sunday—Mandy went over to spend time with Ari
e Mae and the baby while Josiah and his brother Hank did the barn chores. Josiah’s mother took charge of the kitchen and meals as Mandy and Arie took turns holding the lightly bundled infant, soothing her cries. “Having a sister sure has its perks,” Mandy said as she smiled down at her tiny niece.

  “I’m so glad you were with me during the birth,” Arie said softly as she stroked her daughter’s soft, dimpled hand. “I was a real mess, jah?”

  Mandy shook her head. “What matters now is that you’re a mother. Such a wondrous blessing.” She truly meant it; her sister fairly glowed with contentment, tired though she must be.

  Arie gave her a small, shy smile. “I’ve decided to name the baby Amanda Mae,” she said. “Josiah thinks it’s real perty, too.”

  Mandy’s breath caught in her throat. Such a surprise! “Ach, sister . . . I’m so honored.”

  “I just wish Mamma was here to meet her newest grandchild.” A tear spilled down Arie’s cheek as she cradled her new babe, and she reached out with her free hand to Mandy, who clasped it.

  “Knowin’ Mamma, she would have her arms round the three of us right this minute, ain’t so?” Mandy smiled at Arie and cooed at tiny Amanda Mae, grateful beyond words to be there with them in this moment. To think I might have missed this!

  Chapter

  39

  Mandy was out hanging sheets and towels when Josiah dropped by Monday morning to tell her that Arie would be taking more time to rest. “Another ten days or so. She wants to get used to bein’ a Mamma before returning to work,” he said, dark circles under his eyes.

  “Gut idea,” Mandy said, letting him know it was perfectly all right. “Arie was so confident that she could just resume workin’, but I don’t want her to rush back.”

  Josiah nodded. “Real kind of you. Denki.”

  “Let me know if she needs anything, all right?” Mandy said as she pinned a towel to the clothesline.

  “Well, you have your hands full here, and my Mamm is with Arie, so there’s no worry.”

  “You have a sweet little daughter,” she told him.

  He smiled. “Thank the Good Lord she’s real healthy,” he said, then turned to head toward home.

  For a moment, she watched him hurry on his way. Talking with Josiah stirred something within her, but it wasn’t longing or regret—or even anger. It was a profound sense of peace.

  More than ever before, Mandy was convinced that God had turned what had been painful and destructive into something good . . . something in accordance with His will. I just wasn’t willing to see it.

  Cousin Kate seemed pleased to temporarily take Arie Mae’s place in the kitchen, and was all a-chatter about the newborn babe just across the way, hinting that she and Betsy wanted to go over and visit.

  “I’m sure Arie will bring Amanda Mae by soon enough,” Mandy said. “The guests will want to see her, too.”

  “You can say that again,” Kate said, cracking eggshells against the mixing bowl. “Too bad your Mamma didn’t live long enough to lay eyes on Arie’s baby.”

  “I’m just tickled that Arie chose to give baby Amanda my first name,” Mandy said, serving applesauce into small bowls.

  “Not too many sisters would do that,” Kate observed as she stirred the egg-and-milk mixture for omelets.

  Well, some close sisters would, Mandy thought.

  Trina and Gavin strolled through the Palm House at the Rawlings Conservatory in Baltimore that Saturday morning, reveling in the lush green beauty all around.

  “What would you think of having our wedding in a place like this?” Trina asked as she walked hand in hand with her fiancé.

  Gavin was quiet for a second, then stopped walking and turned to look at her. “This place would actually be my second choice,” he said, smiling.

  “What’s your first?”

  They started walking again slowly, taking in the Victorian architecture of one of the oldest glass houses in the country.

  “I’m not sure how it would set with you.”

  “Try me.”

  “Well, I know of a quaint little Amish inn. . . .”

  Trina laughed. “That butterfly meadow would be a fantastic backdrop for an outdoor wedding,” she said, trying to remember when Mandy had said the last of the butterflies migrated south in the fall.

  “So you’re not opposed?” asked Gavin. He looked rather astonished.

  “Were you expecting a battle?” Trina laughed again.

  “Our clashes have been diminishing,” he joked.

  “Must be the meshing of hearts.” She smiled. “Hmm . . . that could be the title of a poem.” She gave him a teasing look, thrilled to spend the day with this amazing man. “Just to be on the safe side, we could get married in early September, before the first hard frost.”

  Gavin seemed satisfied. “One of us should check on availability at Butterfly Meadows, though, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely. I wonder if they offer a Plain wedding package?” Trina gave him a playful wink.

  “Let’s find out.”

  “You call, since it was always your place to go to write,” Trina suggested as they walked out to the colorful perennial gardens, which reminded Trina of the butterfly-shaped garden at the B and B.

  “But Mandy is your friend and former boss,” Gavin pointed out. “I don’t need to get in the middle of that.”

  “No reason to argue over this.” Trina grinned and reached for her phone. “I’ll give her a call.”

  Late that Saturday afternoon, when Kate and Betsy had finished up for the day, and after Mandy had washed almost all the windows, inside and out, she went to her room to freshen up before making supper for herself. Picking up her phone, she noticed she’d missed a call.

  She was happy to hear Trina’s voice on the message, inquiring about Gavin’s usual suite for two nights starting Thursday, September seventh. “If possible, we’d like to have our wedding out on the lawn there, with the butterfly meadow behind us. Call me when you have a chance—I know you’re busy. But isn’t this exciting!”

  Mandy had to listen to the voice mail twice, she was so shocked. To think that Trina, who’d once despised the inn and its surroundings, wanted to have her wedding here!

  Going out to the entryway, Mandy checked the reservation book, but regrettably, the Blue Room was already booked for four nights at that time. And so was everything else.

  “I could give up my room,” Mandy murmured as she went back down the hall. On a whim, she looked in her mother’s former bedroom, where only the dresser, a chair, and a bookcase remained. Jerome had taken the double bed for young Gracie and Marian so the girls could share a room, making space for their younger boys . . . and a new baby, come the new year.

  In the meantime, Mamma’s empty room had become a dust catcher, though Mandy had kept it thoroughly cleaned each week.

  Walking through the spacious room, Mandy stopped suddenly with an idea. Then, going to the windows, she opened all of them. Surely the farmland view could rival that of any honeymoon suite in all of the county.

  This could be a windfall, of sorts, she thought, knowing guests were constantly inquiring about a bridal suite. And the lack of electricity on this side of the house could even be sold as adding romantic ambience. Yes, perhaps it was possible to turn this room and Arie’s into something special for Trina and Gavin. And for future brides and grooms, too, she thought, catching herself thinking of a future beyond November.

  But, she argued with herself, the B and B might sell faster if the rooms are combined and fixed up a bit. Perhaps Arie’s former room could become a nice-sized private bath with a claw-foot tub. Of course, Mandy wasn’t in any financial position to start updating all the rooms, but combining Mamma’s and Arie’s former rooms into a large suite was an excellent idea—one she would talk to Jerome about first thing Monday morning.

  Then I’ll call Trina!

  Sunday midafternoon, following Preaching, Mandy was reading five chapters in the King James Version of
the Bible and comparing them with the same five in her mother’s old German Biewel when she heard a tapping at the back door. Going to see who was there, she was greeted by Karl Lantz, who removed his straw hat and asked if she might walk with him over to the pasture.

  “Are the horses all right?” she asked, following him down the steps.

  “Just fine, jah.” He smiled over his shoulder. “Nothin’s wrong.”

  As they walked, he asked if she’d ever gone horseback riding.

  “Nee . . . not since I was a little girl.”

  “We did occasionally in Wisconsin, but I wasn’t sure ’bout here,” he said, his hat still in his hands.

  “Well, sometimes younger teens ride the road horses just for fun,” she said, a bit puzzled.

  “I was hoping you and I might go riding or walking together through the countryside,” he said, not faltering but not sounding very confident, either. “Get better acquainted.”

  Her heart sped up, and Mandy realized how much she’d secretly hoped he might ask her. Yet she also knew it was a risk for him to be seen alone with an unbaptized woman—perhaps the reason why he wasn’t suggesting a buggy ride down well-traveled roads. “Is that a gut idea, Karl?”

  His blue eyes momentarily searched hers. “No harm in a little walk, jah?” As if suddenly remembering something, he reached into his pants pocket and handed her a cube of sugar. “Would ya like to give this to your favorite horse?”

  “Denki, why not,” she said, still not sure how to answer as they made their way past the barnyard and into the paddock.

  He brought out another cube. “Here’s one for Gertie, too.”

  “All right,” she said, smiling as she walked beside him.

  By the time they came upon Ol’ Tulip, the horses had drifted out of the hot sun and under a grove of trees. Mandy greeted her, petted her forehead, then held her hand flat to offer the sugar cube. The mare tilted her long nose sideways and promptly took it. Not looking at Karl, who stood near, Mandy waited for what more he might say.