The Healing

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The Healing Page 11

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  “That’s not true.” Titus gestured to the cabinets they’d been sanding. “We see each other here at work almost every day.”

  Her nose wrinkled, like some foul odor had permeated the room. “That’s not the same as spending time together doing something fun. Thanks to Samuel, you haven’t taken me anywhere or come over for supper even once.”

  “I’m sorry about that, but it won’t always be this way. Once Samuel works through his grief, I won’t feel like I have to be there for him all the time.”

  “What if he never gets over Elsie’s death?”

  “I’m sure he will. He just needs a little more time.” Titus started sanding again. “I talked with Allen the other day, and he’s going to ask Samuel to paint a couple of rental houses he recently bought in Hopkinsville. So if Samuel keeps busy, I’m sure that’ll help with his depression.”

  “I thought he was painting the outside of Bonnie’s Bed-and-Breakfast.”

  “He has started on that, but he can’t work on it when it’s raining. The painting he’ll do for Allen will be inside work.” Titus stopped sanding and reached over to touch Suzanne’s arm. “Are you missvergunnisch of the time I spend with Samuel?”

  She looked at him intently. “I’m not envious, but I am afraid that because of him, we might never get married.”

  “That’s lecherich. Samuel won’t stop us from getting married this fall.”

  “It’s not ridiculous. Samuel’s been here over two months already, and he’s made no effort to find a place of his own.”

  “His house in Pennsylvania hasn’t sold yet, and even if it had, I doubt he could handle raising the kinner on his own.”

  Suzanne’s cheeks flushed a bright pink. “There’s no way I can think of moving into your house and starting a family of our own if Samuel and his kinner are still living there. Your place isn’t big enough for that, and I’m sure it would eventually cause tension in our marriage.”

  Titus knew Suzanne was right. After the last couple of conversations he’d had with his twin, he knew Timothy and Hannah’s marriage was full of tension. He didn’t want to start his marriage out with differences between him and Suzanne, but he couldn’t push Samuel and his kids out of the house either.

  “I’ll have a talk with Samuel about looking for a place of his own as soon as I feel he’s ready,” he said.

  “What if he’s not ready before fall?”

  Titus took Suzanne’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s pray that he is.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Esther’s stomach growled as she stepped into the kitchen, devoid of any pleasant smells. Even though Mom and Dad had been gone for two months, it still seemed strange not to have Mom here fixing breakfast in the mornings. She and Mom had always been close. Not an unhealthy kind of close, where she couldn’t do anything without asking her mother first. No, she and Mom had a special bond—an understanding of one another’s needs. Whenever Esther had been afraid as a child, Mom had always been there to calm her fears. When she’d had trouble making a decision, she’d gone to Mom for advice.

  It wasn’t easy to do that now, since Mom and Dad lived two states away. Of course, she could always write Mom a letter or leave her a message on Dan’s voice mail. But it wasn’t the same as sitting down with a cup of tea and having a good heart-to-heart conversation.

  Knowing she needed to set her thoughts aside and fix something for breakfast so she could get over to Titus’s to watch the children, Esther heated some water for tea, fixed herself a plate of scrambled eggs, and paired it with a slice of the delicious raisin bread Suzanne’s mother had given her last night.

  When she took a seat at the table and bowed her head, the first thing she prayed about was her brother.

  Dear Lord, please help the doctors find something that will make Dan feel better. Help him find new ways to do things. If he has to begin using a wheelchair, help the transition to be easy. Help Sarah and their kinner to accept the changes and be an encouragement to Dan.

  Be with my brother James and his family at their home in Lykens, and of course bless and be with Mom and Dad.

  Help Samuel through his struggle with grief, and I pray that I may be a blessing to his kinner today. Help me know what to do to help them through their grief. Amen.

  “That looks really good, Samuel,” Bonnie said when she’d finished spading her garden plot and joined Samuel on the side of the house where he’d been painting.

  Samuel gave a nod and stopped painting long enough to move the ladder to a different spot.

  “I’m glad I chose a pale yellow for the color.”

  “Jah, it looks pretty good,” he said.

  “Jah, means yes, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Esther’s been explaining some things to me about the Amish way of life, and I’m hoping to learn some Pennsylvania-Dutch words. She’s already taught me a few, but if you’re willing, I’d be happy if you’d teach me some, too.”

  “Why would you want to learn Pennsylvania-Dutch?”

  “Since so many of my neighbors are Amish, I thought it would be a good idea if I was able to understand some of their words.”

  Samuel picked up his paint brush. “We do speak English, you know.”

  “Of course, but when my Amish neighbors are talking among themselves, they usually speak their own language.”

  “So you want to know what they’re saying?”

  She chuckled. “Jah. That way I can be sure they’re not talking about me.”

  He smiled. At least it felt like a smile. He hadn’t found anything to smile about in such a long time he wasn’t sure he knew how to smile anymore. “You seem like a nice person, Bonnie. I can’t imagine anyone saying anything negative about you.”

  Bonnie’s cheeks flamed. “That’s kind of you, but I’m no saint. I’m sure there a few things about me that some folks might not like.”

  “Sure don’t know what it’d be. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

  “Well, that’s because you’re such a nice man.”

  Samuel felt kind of embarrassed by that comment and wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so he just shrugged and said, “Guess I’d better get back to work or this house will never get painted.”

  Paradise, Pennsylvania

  “How come you’re home so early today?” Hannah asked when Timothy entered the kitchen and found her fixing a sandwich for Mindy. “I figured you and your daed would be working in the fields until late now that the weather’s improved.”

  “We’ve been pushing the horses hard all morning, so we’re giving them a rest,” Timothy said. “Thought I’d grab an early lunch while I’m here.”

  “Oh, I see. Would you like me to fix you a sandwich?”

  “That’d be nice.” Timothy leaned over and kissed the top of Mindy’s head; then he looked back at Hannah. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Where else would I be?”

  “Figured you’d probably be over at your mamm’s. That’s where you seem to spend all your time these days.”

  “That’s narrisch, Timothy. I’m not over at Mom’s all the time.”

  He moved over to the sink to wash his hands. “Jah, you are, and my comment may seem foolish to you, but it’s not to me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hannah placed Mindy’s sandwich on the tray of her high chair and poured her a glass of milk.

  “When we got married, I figured I’d come first and then any kinner we had.” He glanced back at Mindy, now eagerly eating her sandwich.

  Hannah plopped her hands against her slender hips and stared up at him innocently. “I’ve always put you and Mindy first.”

  “Oh really? Is that why I’ve come home so many times and discovered that you were over at your mamm’s?” He shook his head. “I hardly ever get to visit with my wife anymore, and I’m gettin’ mighty sick of it.” Timothy’s voice grew louder, and Mindy’s eyes widened as she looked up at h
im fearfully.

  “It’s okay,” he said, gently patting her plump little arm. “Daadi’s not mad at you.”

  “No, he’s mad at me,” Hannah mumbled, turning her back to him.

  Timothy took hold of his wife’s arm and turned her to face him. “I think we need to talk.”

  “Not if you’re going to yell.” Hannah motioned to Mindy. “I don’t want to upset her.”

  “Let’s go in the living room,” he suggested.

  She hesitated but finally nodded.

  After they’d both taken a seat on the sofa, Timothy turned to Hannah and said, “I think we should move.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “I think we should move.”

  “Where?”

  “To Kentucky.”

  She shook her head vigorously with a determined set of her jaw.

  “We need a new start.”

  Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s because of my mamm, isn’t it? You want to move to Kentucky to keep me away from her.”

  Timothy wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want Hannah to think he disliked her mother, but he needed her to understand that her place was with him.

  “Will you give up the notion of moving to Kentucky if I agree to stay home more?” she asked tearfully.

  Timothy flinched. He hated it when Hannah cried. It always made him feel guilty—like he’d done something wrong. “Even if you stayed home more, your mamm would end up over here,” he said, keeping his voice down.

  “No, she wouldn’t. I’ll ask her not to.”

  “Oh, great. Then she’ll think it’s my fault and that I’m trying to come between the two of you. As it is, I’m not sure she likes me all that well anyhow.”

  “That’s not true. Both of my parents like you just fine. And Mom won’t think you’re trying to come between us.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ll tell her it was my idea—that I’ve come to realize that I need to spend more time with you, and that she needs to be with Dad more.” Hannah clutched Timothy’s shirtsleeve. “Please don’t make us move. We wouldn’t be happy in Kentucky; I know we wouldn’t.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Timothy said. “It would be hard to start over in a new place.”

  A look of relief spread across her face as she bobbed her head. “That’s right. Look what a hard time Samuel’s having. He’s no better off now than he was when he lived here.”

  “I guess you have a point.” Timothy pulled Hannah into his arms. “If you’re willing to give me more of your time and put my needs ahead of your mamm’s, then I’ll forget about moving.”

  She smiled up at him sweetly, and his heart nearly melted. “Danki, Timothy. You won’t be sorry; you’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Pembroke, Kentucky

  Esther was pleased when she stepped into the phone shanty and discovered a message from her mother, asking her to call.

  She reached for the phone, dialed Dan’s number, and was surprised when Mom answered the phone.

  “Mom! It’s so good to hear your voice. I got your message but never expected you’d be near the phone when I returned your call. I figured I’d have to leave a message for you.”

  “I just came out to the phone shanty to make a call, and the phone rang as soon as I stepped inside. It’s so good to hear from you, Esther.”

  “It’s good hearing from you, too.”

  “How are things going?” Mom asked. “I’ve been concerned because I haven’t heard from you in several days, so that’s why I left a message.”

  “Everything’s fine. I’m keeping busy with my two jobs. Oh, and Samuel finished painting the outside of the B&B yesterday, so Bonnie will be opening for business soon—hopefully within the next week or two.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be working there more?” Mom asked.

  “I believe so. Bonnie mentioned the idea of me moving into the guest house on her property so I could be closer and help her fix breakfast for her guests every morning.”

  “But if you did that, our house would be sitting empty, and that might make it easy for someone to break in and steal things.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. So I’ll just keep getting up early and going over there to help with breakfast whenever she needs me to.”

  “I’m glad you’re keeping busy, Esther.”

  “How’s Dan doing?” Esther asked, while watching with fascination as a spider created an intricate web in the corner of the shanty.

  “About the same. The new medication he’s taking is helping some, but I think he may have to start using a wheelchair soon, because he’s still struggling with extreme fatigue and is very wobbly on his feet. Your daed’s keeping busy at the two farmer’s markets where Dan has his stands, and I’ve been helping him some there whenever I can.”

  They talked awhile longer, catching up on things, until Esther glanced at the battery-operated clock sitting on the phone table and realized what time it was. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m going to have to hang up now. It’s time for me to go over to Titus’s to watch the kinner. Allen lined up some paint jobs for Samuel, and I need to get there before his driver picks him up.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you go,” Mom said. “Take care, and do keep in touch so we know how you’re doing.”

  “You do the same. I miss you and Dad, and it’s been good talking to you. Bye, Mom.”

  When Esther hung up the phone, she hurried to the barn to get her horse. She had taken the buggy out of the shed before coming to the phone shanty, so all she had to do was hitch Ginger to the buggy. She looked forward to spending another day with Samuel’s children because she was becoming more and more attached to them—especially Penny and Jared, who were with her most of the day. Caring for them gave her a taste of what it would be like if she had children of her own.

  “I wonder if I’ll ever fall in love and get married,” she murmured as she stepped into Ginger’s stall.

  The horse whinnied and nuzzled Esther’s hand.

  “What do you think, Ginger?” Esther asked, patting the gentle mare’s flanks. “Will any man ever ask me to marry him?”

  With a shake of her mane, and a little nicker, Ginger answered, as if telling Esther not to worry.

  Bonnie had just taken a seat on the window bench in front of the dining room window to have a second cup of coffee, when a knock sounded on the front door. She set her cup down and went to see who it was.

  When Bonnie opened the door, she was surprised to see a young Amish boy wearing a bedraggled-looking straw hat standing on the porch, holding a fat red hen. When she’d first heard the knock, she’d thought it might be Allen, as he’d stopped by to say hello to her several times in the last few weeks. But since she hadn’t heard a vehicle pull in before the knock sounded on her door, she’d quickly dismissed that idea.

  Bonnie had never seen the young boy who stood staring up at her now, but then there were a lot of Amish in the area she hadn’t met yet. “May I help you?” she asked.

  “Ya need any chickens? We’ve got more just like her in our coop at home, and ya can have as many as ya like for a fair price.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do with even one chicken,” she said.

  “Ya raise ‘em for the eggs … and for eatin’, of course.” The boy tipped his head back and grinned up at Bonnie. “Ya got a husband I can talk to ‘bout this?”

  Bonnie shook her head. “I live here alone. This was my grandparents’ house, and it’ll soon be turned into a bed-and-breakfast.” She gestured to the sign Samuel had put up on the front of the house that read: BONNIE’S BED-AND-BREAKFAST.

  The boy glanced at the sign then back at Bonnie. “How many beds have ya got for sale, and are ya chargin’ folks to eat breakfast here, too?”

  She bit back a chuckle. “I don’t sell beds. I’ll be renting rooms to people who need a place to stay when they’re visiting this area, and I will also feed them breakfast.”

&
nbsp; “What about supper? Ya gonna feed ‘em supper, too?”

  “No, just breakfast.”

  “Don’t ya think folks oughta have some supper? They’ll get awful hungry if all they get is breakfast every day.”

  Bonnie was sure the boy didn’t understand the concept of a bed-and-breakfast. He was young and probably quite innocent to the things of the modern world. “I might consider offering supper to my guests sometime in the future, but for now, I’ll only be serving breakfast.”

  “If ya had some chickens, you’d have plenty of eggs to fix for breakfast.” He looked down at the chicken he held and grinned.

  Bonnie mulled the idea over a few seconds and finally said, “How many chickens do you have for sale, and how much would you charge me for them?”

  “We’ve got fifteen hens we could sell ya for three dollars each, and we’ll throw in a rooster for free, ‘cause you’re gonna need them eggs fertilized if you’re plannin’ to raise more chickens. If ya say yes, I’ll run home and tell my dad; then he’ll haul the chickens over to ya after he takes me to school.”

  “That’s fine.” Bonnie smiled, tickled by the young boy’s salesmanship. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “Amos Bontrager. What’s yours?”

  “I’m Bonnie Taylor, and you know what I think, Amos?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think you’re a pretty good little salesman.”

  Amos shook his head. “Naw, you’re just a good customer.” He turned and bounded down the stairs.

  “What in the world have I gotten myself into?” Bonnie muttered as she returned to the house. “I don’t know the first thing about raising chickens, but I guess that’s about to change.”

  “I hope you’re in the mood for oatmeal this morning, because that’s what I fixed,” Titus said, placing a bowl on the table in front of Samuel. He gestured to the children, already gathered around the table. “As you can see, they’re waiting to eat.”

  “Oatmeal’s fine,” Samuel said with a shrug. “It really doesn’t matter to me.”

 

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