Hannah's Joy

by Marta Perry

  “It smells ser gut in here.” Aunt Paula came in, catching Jamie as he ran to meet her. “Hannah, you didn’t tell me your friend was such a fine cook.”

  “Better wait until you taste it,” Hannah said lightly. “I remember some of Megan’s experiments.”

  “Like the frosting that curdled,” Megan said. “Or the meat loaf that was so hard even the dog wouldn’t eat it?”

  “Those are the ones,” Hannah said. She pried him away from Aunt Paula. “Come on, little man. Let’s wash those hands for supper.”

  By the time she had Jamie settled in his high chair with food in front of him, the meal was on the table. Megan and her aunt seemed to be talking more easily now. Aunt Paula’s stiffness wasn’t so evident. Either Megan’s cheerful friendliness had won her over, or Aunt Paula was being more successful at hiding her discomfort.

  Intent on getting more food into Jamie’s mouth than on his shirt, Hannah lost the thread of the conversation for a few minutes, only to be startled by a question from Megan.

  “Hannah, do you remember? The name of the man who talked to you at the park?”

  “Russo, I think,” Hannah said. She hadn’t intended to mention that meeting to her aunt, but Megan had taken the choice from her.

  Since she hadn’t asked Megan to keep quiet, she shouldn’t be feeling annoyed with her. Still, Megan had surely seen that she didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Phil Russo.” Aunt Paula supplied the name. “It must have been. He comes in for coffee sometimes, and he likes my shoofly pie. What did he want to talk to you about?” Her forehead furrowed.

  “I think he just noticed Jamie playing in the sandbox and stopped to say hello,” Hannah said. She had no intention of lying to her aunt, but there wasn’t any reason—

  “He belongs to the local veterans’ group.” Megan spoke quickly. “He told Hannah that if there was any way they could help her, just to ask.”

  “That was kind of him.” The reserve was back in Paula’s voice. “They’re nice folks, he and his wife, Nancy. They settled here when he retired from the service, because she has kin here.”

  “He seemed very pleasant.” Hannah shot a look at Megan. Stop talking about it.

  But Megan chose to ignore the message. “He invited Hannah to participate in the Veterans Day events, whatever they are.”

  “A parade,” Aunt Paula said. Her gaze, fixed on Hannah, was troubled and questioning. “I know they have a parade. I’m not sure what else.”

  “Hannah could find out,” Megan said.

  Hannah felt as if she were being squeezed. “No.” Her firmness surprised her.

  “But they’re only interested in honoring Travis,” Megan protested. “I’d think you’d want to be a part of that.”

  Hannah closed her eyes for a second, trying to find the right words—the words that would stop Megan’s pushing and remove the anxiety from her aunt’s face. She couldn’t. This must be how William felt, trying to express himself and unable to.

  “It’s too much of a reminder,” Aunt Paula said, coming to her rescue. “I think that Hannah is not ready for such a thing yet.”

  Hannah nodded, the constriction in her throat lessening.

  “Oh, Hannah, I’m sorry.” Megan put down her fork. “What an idiot I am, pressuring you like that. I didn’t mean to.”

  Hannah managed a smile. “You didn’t?”

  “Okay, I admit it.” Megan’s expression turned rueful. “I’m always trying to manage people. I guess I thought it would be good for you to get involved. Forgive me?”

  “Of course.” Most of Hannah’s tension eased away. It would be all right. Their friendship could withstand a disagreement.

  But the incident did emphasize the distance between them. They could never go back to the way it had been before Travis died. She and Megan didn’t have that common bond any longer.

  She had a new life now, and Megan had moved on, too. Maybe, no matter how much they tried, they wouldn’t be able to hold on to their closeness, and she’d have that loss to mourn, as well.

  * * *

  Wednesday afternoon was always quiet in Pleasant Valley, with many of the shops closing early. So far as William knew, nobody was sure how the custom started, but like a lot of things, it was simply what the local people did.

  Caleb and Katie would be closing their shops in less than an hour, but that didn’t affect him. Caleb wouldn’t mind if he stayed here in the workshop, if he wanted.

  And William did want that. Working with his hands eased his mind, and he could use that soothing right now. He brushed stain on the rocking chair back he was working on, noticing how it brought up the grain of the wood. He liked to let the rhythm of the work seep into him.

  Still, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t manage to forget what had happened yesterday. Would Hannah expect to work with him tomorrow? She hadn’t said anything. If her guest was still here, she probably didn’t, but he wished she’d let him know.

  Footsteps on the stairs interrupted a train of thought that wasn’t getting him anywhere. He was surprised to see his nine-year-old nephew Joseph, Rachel’s son.

  “J-Joseph. What are you d-doing here?” He smiled, reaching to the boy.

  Joseph hurried to give him a hug. “I went to the dentist. Mammi took me out of school for the whole afternoon.”

  “How w-was it?”

  “No cavities,” Joseph said importantly. “Dr. Franklin gave me a new toothbrush. Blue, with a white stripe.”

  “Gut for you.” William leaned against the workbench, relaxing. “S-so what brings you here?”

  “Mammi is looking at material for a dress in Katie’s shop. She said I could komm up, but not to bother you. I’m not bothering, am I?” Joseph leaned against the bench, too, maybe unconsciously imitating his onkel’s pose.

  “Never,” William said.

  “Gut, ’cause I have to tell you something. It’s a secret.” Joseph whispered the words, even though no one could have heard him.

  “If it’s a s-secret, m-maybe you shouldn’t tell.”

  “No, it’s a secret for you and me and my sisters.” He grinned. “Mary will be mad I got to tell you, that’s for sure. She’s not very gut at keeping secrets.”

  Mary wasn’t even in school yet. She probably didn’t understand what her older brother and sister meant about keeping something secret.

  “S-so what is it?” Ezra’s kinder had been confiding their secrets in Onkel William for a long time. He was glad to see that hadn’t stopped.

  “Mammi’s birthday is next month. We’ve been saving up for a present for her, and we thought maybe you could make something. We have almost five dollars. Do you think it’s enough?” Joseph’s small face grew tight with concern.

  “Ja, for s-sure.” The cost didn’t matter. He’d make what the boy wanted, even if he had to cover the difference himself. “What d-do you w-want?”

  “We’re not sure.” Joseph’s expression grew very serious. “First we thought a rocking chair, but we don’t have enough money for that. So then we thought maybe a bookshelf, except that Gideon made Mammi a whole bookcase for her books last Christmas.” Joseph leaned against his arm. “What do you think Mammi would like? You know her really well.”

  That flicked at his heart, just a bit. Once, he’d known Rachel as well as anyone, he’d have said, but now that she was married to Gideon, he’d cut down on the amount of time he spent there. No matter how generous Gideon was, William didn’t want to be a nuisance. He didn’t want to see anything but pleasure in Rachel’s face when he came to her door.

  “I’ll tell you what your m-mamm would like. A cup rack.” He lifted one down from the shelf above the workbench. “See, l-like this. She c-can keep the cups she uses out so they’re h-handy.”

  Joseph studied it solemnl
y. “Could you make it more curvy?” He made a shape with his hand. “Sort of like Mammi’s flowers?”

  “That’s a g-gut thought.” He ruffled Joseph’s hair. “You’re p-pretty s-smart.”

  Joseph grinned, obviously pleased. “Mammi will like it, and she’ll know you made it special for her. Like when you made the train for me.”

  “Y-you r-remember that? You w-were only two then.” He’d nearly forgotten it himself. It had taken him ages, creating it by trial and error, mostly error. He could do a better job of it now.

  “Ja, for sure. It’s on the shelf in my room.”

  He could make a train like that for Jamie, he realized. Hannah’s boy was just about the right age for such a toy. It would be a small way of letting Hannah know he appreciated what she’d been doing for him.

  “It’s s-settled th-then. I’ll m-make a cup rack for your mamm.”

  “Denke, Onkel William.” Joseph leaned against him. “I knew you would help us.”

  William put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. Joseph couldn’t know how much good his visit had done for William.

  He liked knowing someone counted on him and looked to him for help. To Joseph and his sisters he was someone special, someone who could be trusted to do what they couldn’t. That attitude was a fine antidote for the way Hannah’s friend had looked at him.

  That had been foolishness, letting himself get so upset by what that woman had said. Childish, and he wasn’t a child, no matter that people seemed to want to treat him that way.

  Joseph’s innocent faith in him was a reminder he’d needed right now.

  * * *

  Hannah kept an eye out for William at the fire company’s barbecue that Wednesday evening, even as she broke up some chicken pieces for Jamie. Aunt Paula held Jamie on her lap at the rough trestle table, managing to keep his hands out of her coleslaw while chatting in Pennsylvania Dutch with the woman next to her.

  Megan nudged her elbow. “Do you actually understand them?” she murmured, nodding toward the two women.

  Hannah shrugged, trying to grab a bite of her barbecued chicken before Jamie demanded more. “Some of it,” she said. “When I was small I heard it all the time, and I’m not sure I even realized whether I was speaking English or dialect. After my family moved away, I lost the language.”

  “And now it’s coming back.” Megan glanced at Jamie. “And Jamie will grow up knowing it, I guess.”

  Hannah shrugged, not sure what Megan was driving at. “It’s good to be bilingual, isn’t it?”

  Megan didn’t answer. Instead she glanced around, as if the mixture of Amish, Mennonites, and English gathered around the tables outside the fire hall was strange enough to stare at.

  Surely Megan had realized before she came that Hannah’s life would be different here, hadn’t she? Hannah had thought Megan was getting acclimated, but now she seemed awkward, even uncomfortable, as if she hadn’t expected this mix of people.

  Hannah scanned a table of Amish men, looking for a familiar face. She wanted to ask William if he would be able to come Friday afternoon, instead of tomorrow, since Megan would be leaving that morning and things would go back to normal.

  Not that she wanted Megan’s visit to end—of course she didn’t think that. But she hadn’t expected it to be quite as disruptive as it was turning out to be. She felt as if she had to be constantly alert, explaining Megan to other people as well as helping Megan understand her life here.

  “Maybe tomorrow we can take my car and do a little sightseeing,” Megan said. “I’ll have to make an early start on Friday, so there won’t be time then.”

  “We’ll have to work around Jamie’s nap. And how busy we are at the bakery.”

  Aunt Paula, overhearing, waved her hand. “Don’t worry about the shop. Naomi will be helping me. You go enjoy yourselves. And maybe Jamie will even sleep in the car for you.”

  “Great.” Megan pounced on that. “Maybe we can make a whole day of it and have lunch out someplace.”

  “That would be nice.” Although Hannah could foresee Jamie having a meltdown if they were out too long.

  “I wish I could stay longer,” Megan said. “But it’s your turn to visit me, don’t forget. You can bring Jamie and stay as long as you want.”

  Hannah caught a look of apprehension in Aunt Paula’s face before she had a chance to shake her head.

  “That’s so nice of you, Megan. But I don’t feel quite brave enough to set off on that long trip with Jamie. It was a nightmare just getting here with him. Maybe when he’s a little older it will work out.”

  “Ja, that would be better.” Her aunt looked relieved.

  Megan seemed about to argue the point, so Hannah got up quickly. “Let’s go get some dessert. Aunt Paula, what would you like?”

  “Maybe a piece of that chocolate cake with the caramel icing, if there’s any left. Anna Miller makes that, and it’s delicious, for sure. I wish I could get her to make some for the bakery.”

  “I’ll see if there’s any left.” Hannah scrambled over the bench. “And maybe a cookie for Jamie.”

  Megan stepped over the bench, too, smoothing down her knit top. “I’m not sure I want anything, but I’ll come with you and look anyway.”

  The crowd hadn’t yet gathered around the dessert tables—most were going back to the sizzling grill for seconds. The moment they were out of earshot of her aunt, Megan grabbed Hannah’s hand.

  “Hannah, don’t you see what’s going on? The way your aunt reacted at the idea of you coming to visit me? She expects you to stay here for good.”

  Hannah shook her head, smiling a little. That was Megan, always dramatic. “You’re overreacting. My aunt was just agreeing with me about taking Jamie on such a long trip.” She gave a mock shudder. “If you’d heard him on the trip here, you wouldn’t question it.”

  “That’s not it at all.” They’d reached the dessert table, but Megan’s mind wasn’t on food. “Look, you don’t see it because you’re too close. I’m telling you, your aunt doesn’t want you to ever leave. She probably sees you taking over the bakery, taking care of her in her old age, for that matter.”

  “That’s not so. Really, Megan, you’re imagining things. Aunt Paula knew when I came that I’d eventually leave, once Jamie’s old enough that I can hold down a full-time job.”

  “If that’s all that keeps you here, don’t wait,” Megan said promptly. “Listen, you can come to us. Not just for a visit, but to stay. We’re going to move off base anyway. I’ll watch Jamie so you can work.”

  “I can’t . . .”

  “You can. Just forget all this and come back with me. Hannah, you don’t belong here.”

  Megan’s voice had risen in her excitement. Hannah tried to hush her, glancing around to see if anyone had heard.

  She discovered that William was standing behind her, staring at her, a plate forgotten in his hand. His pleasant, open face seemed to stiffen. Then he turned and walked swiftly away.

  “Hannah . . .”

  Hannah shook off Megan’s arm. She had to fix this, right now. She couldn’t have William thinking she intended to leave Pleasant Valley when she’d barely started to help him.

  “Please take the dessert to my aunt and Jamie. Tell them I’ll be back in a moment.”

  She hurried off through the crowd, trying to keep William’s tall figure in sight. For a moment she lost him when a man lifting a toddler to his shoulder got up from a table in front of her. She stopped, looking around, and then spotted William rounding the end of the cement block fire hall.

  She wasn’t eager to start anyone gossiping about the two of them, but this misunderstanding had to be set straight now. She walked across the gravel lot, trying to look as if she were just on her way to the restrooms.

  Once she reached the building, she slip
ped around the corner, hoping he hadn’t already disappeared elsewhere.

  But William was there, leaning against the fender of one of the fire trucks. The trucks had probably been moved back here to make more room for the barbecue dinner.

  She approached, her shoes crunching on the gravel, and William looked up. He waited, expressionless, until she stopped next to him.

  “Don’t look like that.” Her words came out involuntarily, startling her as much as they probably did him.

  “W-what?” His eyebrows lifted slightly.

  “You look as if you’re furious and trying to hide it.”

  He blinked. “Not m-mad.” He stopped, shook his head. “Okay. I-I am. You g-gave me h-hope. Now you’re leaving.” The last words came out on what had to be a wave of anger, and he didn’t stammer.

  Her throat tightened. Hope. Everyone needed that. William had let down his guard with her, and now it seemed she was betraying him.

  He started to turn away, and she stopped him, grasping his arm.

  “I’m not leaving.” She said the words firmly. “Get that? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Your f-f-friend—”

  “My friend doesn’t speak for me.” She fought down annoyance at Megan. Her fingers tightened on his arm. “You should understand that. People do that to you, too.”

  William nodded, his face easing. “Ja.”

  She blew out a relieved breath. He was listening, at least. “Megan is a good friend. She helped me so much when my husband died, and I owe her a lot.”

  “I know th-that f-feeling.”

  “I guess you do.” She ought to let go of him now. He wasn’t going to walk away. But still she held on. It made her feel connected. “Do you feel you owe your family?”

  “Ja.” He grimaced. “They m-mean w-well. They d-d-don’t understand.”

  “That’s Megan, too. She means well. She thinks she knows what’s best for me. I don’t know . . .” She stopped, because a little piece of truth about herself seemed to be coming clear. “I guess I’ve let her think that. I’ve gone along, letting other people make decisions for me.”