[2016] The Precious Amish Baby

by Faith Crawford

  He was carefully editing Sarah’s looks from upturned nose to a more subservient shape and thin lips to a fuller mouth, erasing the confident disposition and lightening the hair, when Allen pulled him from his reverie.

  “Can’t wait to meet her, can you?” Allen teased.

  Louis shifted in his seat and poured himself another whiskey.

  Chapter Four

  Over the course of the following week, a fat bunch of letters found their way to the desk in Louis’ coveted library. He waited until the end of the day to open them. Even as a child, he had never felt so impatient. The day dragged on, until he found himself wringing his hands under the table when his mother would not stop complaining about the new maid.

  “She’s too…” the seconds stretched on as Mrs. Weatherford searched for a word.

  “…bright,” she finally said, rather reluctantly.

  “How do you know, mother? Have you spoken to her for a good length of time?”

  “No. But I saw her cleaning the hearth in my bedroom and looked at her for a minute. It’s something about her eyes. She sees things. And when she does, I’m sure there’ll be a mind working furiously behind those eyes. Maids aren’t supposed to think. It would be too disruptive if they did.”

  “Mother, may I remind you that we weren’t always living in a house like this with staff to cater to our every whim. Who are we to turn our noses up at the lower classes? If the wheel of fortune had not turned in our favor-” Louis attempted to reason with his mother.

  “The wheel of fortune-” scoffed Mrs. Weatherford, before her son could complete his argument.

  “The wheel of fortune, indeed. Don’t be so modest, Louis. It doesn’t suit you. You worked hard for what we have. If you can do it, so can everybody else.”

  Mrs. Weatherford ended her remarks resolutely. Unable to take any more of his mother’s complaining, Louis excused himself.

  “In the middle of the meal? You expect me to eat alone? How thoughtless of you, Louis.”

  “I feel unwell, mother. I really should leave before I get sick at the table.”

  “Well, alright. No need to make me lose my appetite. Run along, then.”

  Louis left the room feeling like a six year old who had just been sent off to play. He headed straight to his library, anticipation growing stronger with each step. After he had closed the door behind him, he sat down and drew his chair in towards the table. He sat for a minute, contemplating how important this night could be for the rest of his life. Then he picked up a narrow, thin blade and ripped the first envelope open.

  The first letter read like an epic tale of survival and heroism. A desperate damsel in distress told Louis all about her life with a tyrant of a father and a feeble mother. If she was not married within the year, she would be cast out into the world to fend for herself, having failed to fulfil her life’s purpose. She was pushing 26 and had run out of suitors. They all preferred to stay away from the family and did not like the idea of an extremely dominating figure for a father-in-law. In her defense, the woman was quite honest. Her solution was that they marry quickly and live as far away from her family as possible. She then outlined all her best qualities. She was in no way undesirable. She could be a fine hostess, was educated in literature and embroidery and she loved children. The woman pointed out that she had been honest about her situation because she had no intention of deceiving a man like Louis.

  Louis sat back in his chair. He had been fascinated by the letter but he had no desire to marry into such commotion. But, despite himself, he found himself warming to the woman because of her honesty. He decided to put the letter aside until he had read all the others. To keep track of his progress, he wrote the woman’s name and gave her letter a rating of seven out of ten. As he read all the other letters, he could not help but compare each one to the first. The others were rather generic and spoke of no events at all that would have led them to search for a mate in the paper. He had no sense of who they were. He only knew what they could do and that they wanted to have a number of children ranging from four to seven. Some sounded quite young and idealistic. They would never be able to deal with his mother. Where they gave him no real incentive to continue corresponding with them, the first woman had told him of her fears and dreams. She had related how she wanted to escape her father’s stronghold and run her own household; who she liked to read and that this had something to do with the courage books gave her; why she wanted to have a husband she could learn to love instead of fear, like her mother had feared her father; where she was writing the letter – in her best friend’s house, who also happened to be a self-taught female scientist who had worked with Louis Pasteur. The woman thought all Louis’s were quite magical. A little immature, but only a tiny blemish on an otherwise awe-inspiring surface.

  Louis read the letter thrice more before he made up his mind. He would strike up a conversation with this captivating creature. This was the first time any woman had kindled a fire within Louis. He felt an urgency to explore this new territory. For the first time, he wondered what she looked like. Always one to work with images, Louis thought of her words:

  Coffee-colored eyes. Raven-black, unruly hair. A sun-kissed complexion I am proud of. All these things are lovely qualities on their own but – altogether - make for a plain face. I may not be a dangerously beautiful woman, but I am fiercely loyal to those who love me.

  Louis felt his heart soar. She had just described his ideal woman.

  Chapter Five

  Louis wasted no time in replying to the woman who had conquered his heart. He wrote back and was delighted when a reply arrived swiftly on his library desk. He always read the letters when he expected to be alone and uninterrupted. They soon became an event he looked forward to, a reason for getting up from those nightmares in the morning. He told no one of this correspondence, even when Allen tried to get the information out of him. He wanted to keep the sanctity of his newly discovered flower all to himself.

  The day came when Louis decided they had been talking for too long. It was time to take the next action. Bravely, he wrote a heartfelt letter asking for her hand in marriage. The answer he received was what he had been hoping for. Better yet, she made the process easier for him. There were to be no introductions between families. She simply wanted to leave home and never look back. Louis could see no problem in this and agreed eagerly.

  Louis sent for his fiancée four weeks after he read her first letter. Having told his mother nothing concerning this dalliance, he arranged that Mrs. Weatherford take a trip to her cousin, Ellen, right before Esther was due to arrive.

  “Why now?”

  “What do you mean, mother?” Louis pretended.

  “Why should I visit Ellen now? I usually see her at Christmas.”

  “You’re in this house alone all day. Don’t you want to spend time with other people? It will keep you strong.”

  Mrs. Weatherford was eyeing her son suspiciously.

  “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I was just trying to do something nice for you,” Louis said, feigning disappointment.

  “Alright, I’ll go.” She thought she’d humor him just this once.

  Having dealt with his mother, Louis called Allen and the priest. They would have to marry quickly, before his mother returned and ruined everything.

  “Esther. That’s a beautiful name,” Allen remarked.

  “Yes. It is, isn’t it?”

  “Are you sure you want to keep your mother out of it? You’re creating some irreconcilable differences by shutting her out like that.”

  “You know, Allen, sometimes you talk to me like I have nothing between my ears.” Louis cast an icy look at Allen, who said no more.

  When the big day arrived, a clueless Mrs. Weatherford had her bags packed and loaded onto the carriage. She waved goodbye to her son and disappeared down the road.

  “Everything’s ready. I have the rings,” Allen said, as they walked back into the house after seeing her off.
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  “Good. Esther should be here any moment.”

  An hour later, they heard a noise outside. It sounded like a woman exclaiming in utter shock. When Louis, Allen and the priest rushed outside, they found Mrs. Weatherford standing with her hand over her heart. She was facing a brown-eyed woman who seemed to have said something amazing.

  “I forgot my, my- So I- Only to find this one here and saying-” Mrs. Weatherford couldn’t even finish her sentences.

  Louis and Allen exchanged puzzled looks, and invited everyone inside.

  ***

  Esther woke up to a half-empty bed the morning after her wedding. She stretched her arms and pointed her feet across the bed, wondering what had happened to Louis. Laying back against the pillow, she thought about the bizarre events of the previous day. Everything had not worked out according to Louis’ plans, so he had been in a foul mood as he said his wedding vows, no doubt silently cursing his mother. She sat behind him, her eyes burning holes into his back. Esther could feel the tension in the room that should have held promise and happiness. She remembered wondering what she had gotten herself into but carrying on with the ceremony. There was no turning back now. Her home was here, in this cold house, with these people. At least she had the company of Louis’ friends, who sounded quite interesting. He had told her all about George, Allen and the rest. She could hardly wait to meet Sarah.

  After the ceremony, they all had a tense, light meal. Then Allen left with the priest. Esther dreaded the moment she would be left alone with her angry mother-in-law. But she had hoped that Louis would make the transition easier. He seemed to be having a hard time coping with his failed attempt to exclude his mother from the wedding. So she offered to have the maid show her around the house. She knew they needed some time alone.

  As soon as Esther left, Mrs. Weatherford hissed.

  “How could you?”

  “Mother…” Louis started.

  “Well? Let’s hear it. What do you have to say for yourself? All this time, you’ve been plotting your wedding and how to leave me out of it?”

  Mrs. Weatherford’s voice rose with each word. She was a tall, thin woman, and her eyes almost popping out of her skull at the moment. A thin finger pointed towards her bosom, emphasizing how cheated she felt. Her gaunt face betrayed a fury Louis had never before witnessed, even from this woman who was always unhappy with one thing or another. Now, she shook her head, looking as if she was breathing fire through her nostrils.

  “I never thought I’d see the day,” she said.

  “You would never have approved,” Louis tried to explain.

  “And that means you should exclude me altogether?”

  “But-”

  “And for how long were you hoping I’d stay with Ellen? Admit that you wanted to send me away for good.”

  “Mother-”

  “Admit it! Be a man for once in your life and state your true intentions.”

  “Mother, we can’t go on the way we have been. You’d be happier with Ellen.”

  “First Teddy. Now you.”

  Mrs. Weatherford leaned back on the chair and placed her bony hand across her forehead.

  “I gave birth to a snake for a son.”

  “Mother!” Louis exclaimed.

  “Get out of my sight.”

  “It’s my house,” Louis replied incredulously.

  His mother sat there deep in thought before she said, “You’re right. I’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

  With that, she rose shakily and made her way to her bedroom. Louis watched her go, knowing that she had made up her mind. What else had he expected? He knew that she would react this way. He waited to feel guilty for destroying this fundamental bond between a mother and her son. But the guilt eluded him. Instead, he felt relieved and happy to be free of her tiresome presence and her derogatory remarks. He remembered all the times he had sought her approval and affection. But she was the kind of person who saw the cloud and never the silver lining. Affection was never something that came to her naturally. She had given up on that when Louis’ father had died, over thirty years earlier. Mrs. Weatherford had since become a bitter woman who expected things to work out her way or no way at all.

  Louis slept fitfully that night, unable to pay attention to his new wife. Even though he felt relieved, the day had drained him of all his zeal. And anyway, by the time he went to sleep, Esther had fallen asleep on his side of the bed. Louis let her be and occupied the other side. That night, he dreamt of his mother in what seemed like a witch’s lair. She had been stirring something curious in a huge pot. Then two more witch-like women with webbed fingers joined her and began reciting the first scene of Macbeth.

  “Fair is foul and foul is fair,” they said, rather convincingly.

  Louis woke up in the middle of the night, badly shaken by his nightmare. Esther, too tired from the dramatic day, slept on, unaware of her husband’s discomfort. Louis looked over at his new wife. Macbeth was her favorite play.

  Chapter Six

  “There you are,” Esther said, as she entered the library. “Is this where you go when you don’t want to be found?”

  Louis smiled happily, “This is where I first met you.”

  Esther frowned, not understanding.

  “I read your first letter here. It was the best of them all,” Louis explained.

  “Of course it was.”

  Esther walked over to Louis and sat herself in a chair opposite his.

  “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t realize how tired I was. I would have waited for you but I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.”

  “It’s alright. It was a long day. You must have been tired from the long journey, as well.”

  Esther seemed pensive as she asked, “Louis?”

  “Yes, my dear?”

  “What will happen? I mean… with your mother.”

  “She’s leaving.”

  “But you can’t let her!” Esther was horrified. “Not under these circumstances. Why not make peace with her first?”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  “It has to be.”

  “You don’t know her like I do. She’s past the point of making peace. All we can do is bid her farewell and start our lives together.”

  Esther persisted until she realized that Louis was as sure of his mother not accepting an apology as he was of not wanting to extend one. She wondered at this but dismissed it. Who could understand the machinations of another person’s family members?

  For the first few months, the couple took well to married life. They visited friends and took long walks where they talked about nothing and everything. Esther seemed to get along well with Sarah, although she realized how preoccupied the other woman was, especially with her new pregnancy and George’s adventures. To Sarah’s horror, George had his eye on India. She had done everything she could think of to deter him from this move, but George would not relent. In January of the following year, 1899, George, Sarah and their young daughter moved to India. Louis found himself wondering how they’d entertain themselves without a steady supply of George’s stories.

  When Sarah left, Esther found herself isolated. The other wives in Louis’ group of friends were quite prim and proper and never paid much attention to her. When they did bother to have a decent conversation with her, they seemed to be prying into her life. They were always skeptical of her involvement with Louis. By now, everyone knew that she was only 20. She had lied in her first letter to George so that he – a mature man of forty - would not be deterred by her youth. As much as men loved pretty young things, she was not altogether sure that a pragmatic man would want a child for a wife. Everything else in the letter had been true. She only wished it wasn’t.

  Left alone to focus on her marriage, Esther found herself drifting into the agonizing boredom of everyday life. When she asked Louis to teach her about the business, he laughed.

  “Your place is here, making a home for me and our children,” he wo
uld say.

  “I know, but there are other things I can do,” Esther said.

  “I’m sure there are, sweetheart,” he said. Then he patted her hand sympathetically and left for work.

  The children never came. Months passed and Esther still had no happy news to share.

  “Whatever is wrong with you, Allen will find it out,” Louis said, with conviction, when she voiced her concerns.

  “What if there’s nothing wrong with me?”

  “There must be. If there wasn’t, you’d be bouncing a child on your knee, wouldn’t you?”

  Esther glared at him, the words written all over her face.

  “I realize this must be difficult for you, my dear. But shifting the blame and placing it on my shoulders will not fix the problem.”

  “Have you been with a woman before me?”

  Louis almost spat out his tea. “I beg your pardon!”

  “Did you get her… them, any of them pregnant?”

  “Esther!”

  “Then you might be the problem.”

  Esther could not say anything else, as Louis quickly got to his feet. The defiance in her eyes told him things he never wanted to hear from his wife. He was burning with rage when he moved to strike her. But Esther pushed him away. As he took a step towards her, she grabbed something from the table and raised her hand. A fork sparkled in the light as she brandished it over her head.

  “You come near me again and I’ll stick this in your throat, Louis Weatherford!” she cried out.

  Louis stood there, transfixed by this image and the statement that came with it. Where had he seen this before? Or something like it?