An Amish Gift

by Cynthia Keller

  “Everyone expects me to do it, and I should want to do it. They believe I can manage it all. But I can’t!” His tone grew more agitated. “I can’t live up to these expectations, to be a farmer and take care of everybody else in the family. I’m not ready, and I may never be ready!”

  No one spoke.

  “I feel bad about my mother. But it’s too soon. I don’t know if I want to be baptized. I’ve always done what I was supposed to do, so they expect me to keep doing it. But it’s getting harder without my father, and I’m afraid I’m failing at it. I can’t tell anybody. That’s not our way, and it would be wrong to worry my mother even more. But what if I wreck the farm? They’ll know I failed and have to live with that.”

  “Wow,” Shep said.

  Peter looked at him. “You think I’m failing my family?”

  “Oh, no, that’s not it at all.” Shep ran a hand through his hair. He lowered his voice to a whisper, though it was clear that his wife and son were listening. “It’s because I hear so much of my own story in yours.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Shep gathered his thoughts. “I played football in high school. I was good at it. But it turned out that was the only thing I was good at. When I got married, I wanted to be a good husband and provider. But I wasn’t. I failed at everything I ever tried.”

  Jennie listened, afraid to breathe. She had never heard her husband talk about his past with anyone. Certainly, she had never heard him explain the way he felt about how things had gone for him when he was no longer the star quarterback.

  “The point is,” he went on, “that I wanted to run away, like you do. Things weren’t working out, and everybody was counting on me. I felt like I had let everyone down, and I continued to do that for years. I couldn’t succeed, no matter what I tried. I just wanted things to go back the way they were, like when I played ball. Like you want to go back to when your dad was running the farm. But that doesn’t happen. No matter how much we want it.”

  He was quiet, and everyone waited for what felt like an eternity. At last he spoke again.

  “I took it out on my family. I didn’t let my wife bail us out because I was too ashamed to let anyone know she might have to be the one to support us. I sort of encouraged my son at football, but not nearly as much as I could have, because it caused me so much pain to be around the game. I guess I felt like, if I was a failure in every way, we were all going to be failures. It’s only now that I see if I hadn’t been such a jerk, if I had only asked for some help along the way, things could have gone very differently.”

  “Dad …” Tim started to speak, then hesitated.

  Shep continued to address Peter. “You need to get this out on the table with your mother and your uncle. They should be involved in figuring out how to handle the farm. There isn’t a rule that you have to farm, is there? Don’t you think something else could be worked out short of you running away? If you choose not to get baptized, that’s a different issue, but I hate to see you leave because you’re too embarrassed to admit you don’t want to run the farm.”

  “Personal stuff is not something I ever talk about to my parents … or did, I mean,” Peter said.

  “The farm isn’t personal stuff,” Shep said. “It’s the family’s business, their livelihood.”

  Peter nodded slowly, as if to himself. “I’ve been thinking about it as my private problem. Because I feel as if I’ve failed.”

  “Like I did,” Shep said. “It’s taken me years to see it’s not my personal problem. It became everyone’s problem, but I didn’t let anyone do anything to solve it. Your running away without working it out first is going to create far more problems than it solves.”

  All four of them turned at the far-off sound of an approaching siren. The ambulance or the police, Jennie thought.

  “When the authorities get here, let me talk to them, boys,” Shep said, standing up. “We’re going to tell the truth, but we’ll get through this together.”

  Tim walked over to stand beside his father. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Shep looked at him, his son so tall they were eye to eye. “No problem,” he said, putting an arm around Tim.

  Chapter 16

  Jennie and Willa drove on ahead in her car, leaving Shep and Tim to secure the tree in the back of Shep’s truck. This year’s tree was full and healthy, and Jennie couldn’t wait to decorate it. Unpleasant memories of last year’s Christmas still chafed enough to justify a small splurge for a nicer one this time around. Besides, she reassured herself, they could afford it. Her business was growing, slowly but steadily, and the holiday should bring them new customers. She and Willa had already started shipping decorated Christmas lollipops. Along with the traditional decorations they had some delicate and unusual ones as well: a patterned mitten, two tiny presents, sparkling tree ornaments. Jennie was proud of their creations and the way they kept edging their designs further into the unusual and humorous. Customers loved the offbeat humor and artwork that came with the sweets. In January, Got To Candy would be offering caramel popcorn, assuming, Jennie thought, that the marketing department—Willa—was ready with a clever idea for the packaging. Eventually, they hoped to offer candies geared to holidays throughout the year, but for now they were happy to have gotten their Christmas pops ready to go in November.

  The day was overcast and frigid. Back in the house, Jennie put a kettle of water on the stove to make tea, planning to warm up before she got down to the day’s tasks. Today was Sunday, so she had time before Thanksgiving to do advance preparation. It was going to be just the four of them, but it wouldn’t have felt right to leave out any of the traditional dishes. By doing some each day, she would prevent getting overwhelmed later in the week. She wasn’t sure when she would do her usual Sunday-night planning for the week ahead; she had told the family that the four of them would decorate the tree that night, and she was amazed when no one tried to get out of it.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have been. Everyone had been a little more considerate, a little kinder, since Tim and Peter’s car accident the month before. They also had less time to bicker, she reflected, as Willa was juggling school with an ever increasing set of demands from their candymaking, and Tim was busy working for her on the weekdays and assisting Shep in the store on Saturdays. Jennie had always planned to buy her son a used car or a van. After the accident, the plan changed. She and Shep had forbidden him to use either of their cars except to help at work; if he wanted to drive anywhere for his own purposes, he would have to buy a car and pay all the related expenses. He had come up with the idea of working for the two of them to offset part of the cost.

  The best part, in Jennie’s view, was that Tim and Shep left together on Saturday mornings and came home together at the end of the day. There was no more fighting or storming out. Evidently, Tim had grasped the deep pain behind Shep’s confession to Peter that night by the side of the road, and it had made an impression. He had developed empathy for his father, something Jennie had never imagined she would see from him. Beyond that, it appeared that Shep’s handling of the situation had won him respect from his son.

  It had taken some time, but the fallout from the accident had subsided. The boys had gotten a good scare from the police and knew they were lucky to have gotten off with warnings and fines. Peter’s family had hospital bills to contend with, but Jennie suspected the church community had arrangements for medical emergencies. Mattie didn’t seem inclined to discuss the accident in any way, so Jennie didn’t ask. She had seen the pain in Mattie’s eyes that night when she met them at the hospital. They sat together, waiting to find out how badly Peter was injured, and they hugged when his shoulder injury turned out to be one that would heal without surgery. He would be in a sling for a while but was expected to recover fully. Even then Mattie had kept her thoughts to herself. When Jennie tried to explain how mortified she was that Tim had been involved, Mattie stopped her at once, saying none of it was Tim’s fault. She told Jennie not to think for a secon
d that Tim was responsible or to blame for anything at all, and it was clear she meant it.

  Since then Tim had made time to go to the farm and help Peter with his work. It was indeed difficult for Peter to do much with his shoulder restrained by a sling. Efraim Fisher and his family had extended their stay through December, and the decision had been made to hire an Amish man to work with Peter in the early spring. All of Peter’s siblings would be getting additional jobs in the barn come next spring, as they were another year older and more capable of helping.

  The tree trimming that evening went remarkably well. Jennie and Willa used colorful raffia and ribbon scraps to create braided strands that draped around the branches. Everyone was in a good mood, sipping hot apple cider, the kids even horsing around. As far as Jennie was concerned, that was enough of a Christmas gift.

  The next night, she and Tim were dropping off a batch of candy at the Fisher house when Peter decided to tell his mother how he felt about having to take over the family farm. He was pouring hot chocolate into a mug just as they arrived and apparently decided now was the right moment to speak. Sipping at his drink, he came to stand by his mother, who was repairing a torn bedsheet.

  “Yes?” Mattie looked up at him.

  “We must talk. About the farm and me.”

  Jennie froze. She could tell from the tone of his voice that this was going to be the big talk that Shep had advised him to have with his mother. Why was he doing it with her and Tim present? Safety in numbers, perhaps, she thought, or moral support.

  Mattie put down her sewing as if sensing the conversation would be serious.

  “I know how important farming is. I know it is what we believe is good and right.” Peter took a breath. “But I don’t want to be a farmer.”

  Mattie only nodded to indicate that she had heard.

  “The farm is everything to us,” Peter went on in an anguished tone. “I wish I wanted to run it.”

  “I know you do not want to farm. And that you wish you did want to.”

  Peter stared at his mother. “You know?”

  “You’ve never wanted to be a farmer. But you understand that it is what is important and it is our lives.”

  He could only look at her in amazement. Thinking back, Jennie realized that Mattie had always known Peter didn’t want to farm. She recalled the day Mattie visited when Jennie was recovering from the flu. How they’d talked about Peter’s responsibilities and Mattie had hinted at his unhappiness.

  “So what do I do?” Peter was almost whispering.

  “You go on doing what you must do for now. You have your sisters and brothers to care for. We have people to help you, and we will hire someone in the spring. If that does not work, we will look at the situation. We must keep the family farm, but we will figure out if you can consider something else to do at some other time.”

  He exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. “Thank you.”

  Nothing more was said on the subject.

  Even though he wasn’t released from his obligations, the understanding that his heart lay elsewhere seemed to be all he needed. In the days that followed, Jennie saw how removing the burden of his secret made him happier. He laughed more, and the tension she had noticed in his expression fell away.

  For her part, Mattie told Jennie that many things might happen between now and the spring, and she had faith that all would go well. Jennie admired, as always, her friend’s wisdom and calm.

  On Thursday, the Davises sat down to a quiet Thanksgiving meal, Scout in his usual position beneath the table, hoping for one of them to drop some tasty morsel or take pity on him and slip him some scraps. After everyone had filled their plates and started eating, Jennie leaned over to him.

  “I trust you’re down there reviewing what you have to be thankful for,” she said as he lifted his head, alert to the potential of getting something special to eat.

  “I don’t think dogs feel things like being thankful,” Tim said.

  “Why not?” asked Willa. “They must appreciate it if you give them water when they’re thirsty. Stuff like that.”

  “Well, I know that I’m thankful,” Jennie said. “For so many things. First, of course, you guys. I’m thankful Tim wasn’t hurt in the accident.”

  He frowned, clearly hoping she wasn’t going to discuss it any further.

  “Then the way everything has been going,” she went on. “We’re all doing well in lots of ways. I am genuinely thankful.”

  “Hear, hear,” Shep said, raising his glass of cranberry juice and seltzer.

  She hadn’t said aloud that one of the things she was most grateful for was the fact that she hadn’t seen her husband take a drink since the night of the car crash. Whatever it was—seeing his son get into trouble because of drinking, or maybe having confessed his own secret shame of feeling like a failure—he seemed to redirect his course. He no longer acted so put upon. Instead, he appeared to be filled with new resolve. The beers were gone, replaced by juices and soda.

  After the meal, she found herself alone in the kitchen with Shep. He finished loading the dishwasher as she sponged down the counters. Perhaps, she thought, now was a good time to ask him the question she had wanted to ask for a while.

  “So,” she started, trying to keep her tone casual, “are you storing your awards and stuff? You want them to go in the basement, or will you be putting them back up?”

  “They can go in the basement, sure.”

  Frustrated by his brief response, she pushed for more. “I thought I’d get the boxes out of the corner of the room, if you’re absolutely sure you don’t want to hang them up again.”

  “You’re right. Sorry, I should have put them away.”

  She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him. “Shep, this is the first time you’ve taken down that stuff and boxed up your trophies. I guess I’m a little surprised.”

  He shut the dishwasher door and pressed the button to start the cycle. “It was time, that’s all.”

  “Were you feeling so bad about things?” she asked as gently as she could.

  He looked puzzled. “Bad? No.” Understanding dawned on his face. “Is that what you thought?”

  “Well …”

  “Not at all. I just realized that it was bragging, nothing more. For another thing, it was time to stop looking back. There’s what you do today, and that’s all that counts. All the todays add up to a life.”

  She looked at him in surprise.

  “I learned it from watching the Fishers, you know. First Abraham, then Efraim. They never brag about their accomplishments, much less plaster them up on their walls. They don’t talk about the good stuff they’ve done for other people, either. They have no interest in personal glory. They live their faith, they take action.”

  “Mattie is all about taking action as well.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they do.”

  “They sure take a lot of action,” Jennie said with a smile. “I can’t believe what that woman does in a day.”

  “The men, too. And they all have their jobs. Everybody knows what they’re supposed to do. They operate like the proverbial well-oiled machine.”

  “Or like a team.”

  “A team …”

  She could see he was remembering the same thing she was: that the two of them used to consider themselves a team.

  Taking a few steps forward, he put his arms around her. He slowly brought her closer and kissed her. Without releasing her, he pulled back slightly and put his mouth to her ear.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “For everything. My pride almost destroyed us all. Pride, self-pity. I don’t know why you’re still here with me.”

  “Because I love you,” she whispered back. “I can’t imagine loving anyone else.” In saying the words, she knew it was true.

  “You’ve done an amazing job.” He leaned back and looked in her eyes. “Starting with the move here. This business you’ve built is an incredible accomplishment. I don’t know ho
w you did it. And you’ve held the kids together when they were about to spiral out of control. Thank you, Jennie.”

  “I owe you an apology as well. Or about a hundred apologies.” She smiled. “Somewhere along the line, I forgot that we were supposed to have each other’s backs. You were unhappy, and I got mad at you for being unhappy. You wouldn’t let me do what I wanted to do. I guess I was mostly focused on that.” She paused. “To be honest, watching you drink so much was scaring me to death. The thought of you becoming like my mother—”

  His tone was contrite. “That was especially unfair to you, given what you went through with her.”

  “We stopped talking, Shep. Just flat-out stopped.”

  “My fault, and you know how I am, J—stubborn like a mule. Just ask my brother.”

  “Michael loves you. He does, underneath all that nonsense he has going on.”

  “I’ve always known that.”

  “He wants to help,” Jennie said.

  “He already has, hasn’t he?”

  “How do you mean?” He couldn’t possibly know about Michael’s generosity at Christmas.

  “Not sure what the exact amount was, but you didn’t buy the paint and kitchen linoleum with beads and trinkets, now, did you? The new rug for the living room? That money had to come from somewhere. I was too worried about you guys to insist you give it back, but too proud to admit that I knew about it. I’ve been the ultimate coward.”

  “It was awful, keeping that a secret. But you knew all along!”

  “No more secrets, okay?”

  “No more.”

  She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes with relief. They would be all right. The two of them would be a team once more.

  Chapter 17

  Just as Jennie was intent on figuring out how to repair the family, Shep was apparently thinking along the same lines. To her surprise, the next day he called her and the kids together and asked the three of them to brainstorm with him about how to improve the bike store.