“It is hard for me to imagine this situation. Our families and our ways are so different. We are people just like you, and we have our problems. But we have rules and our church to advise us. To name one thing, no child would be running a house, like you did, without help.
“But it sounds like your sister suffered very much. When she was at home and later. She must have been so lonely. Even though she went away, she brought you along in her thoughts and prayers. She worked to make sure you would have enough to take care of yourself and your mother.” She stopped and looked at Jennie. “The one thing I do understand is forgiveness. We believe in forgiveness. Your sister is asking you for this, yes?”
“Yes.” Jennie’s tone was grim. “But I’m not sure I can give it to her.”
“Do you want to?”
Jennie turned away and gazed out over the beautiful landscape. At that moment, it felt to her like the most peaceful place on earth. The image of Shep and Michael came into her mind. Shep had never actually been angry with his brother, but she recalled the sorrow he had hidden over the years as the two drifted apart. It was obvious that his spirit was much lighter now that Michael was here and the gap between them was closing. She could tell it would be a new situation going forward, and they would have the good fortune to share their lives once again.
She considered what would happen if she sent Hope away without forgiving her, without letting her sister back into her life. It was more than likely that Hope would never return to ask again. She would slip through Jennie’s fingers forever. The anger Jennie felt toward Hope was old, she reflected, so old it was fossilized, a rigid construct that served neither her nor anyone else. There was no joy in holding on to it. If she didn’t do anything to change the situation, that anger would be with her forever. Along with the sadness of never knowing what might have developed between them.
Her voice was unsteady. “I believe I do want to forgive.” Nodding with resolve, she repeated more firmly, “Yes, I believe I do.”
“Well, then. You have your answer.” Mattie smiled. “We should get back so we can give you a present. That is why we came over.”
They turned around, and as they approached the house, Sarah came toward them holding a large bundle wrapped in tissue paper.
“Shep,” Jennie called to him. “Mattie wants to give us something.”
He was talking to Michael and Zeke, and the three men came to join them. The children clustered around to see what was going on.
“Oh, my,” Jennie breathed as she pulled the tissue paper away to reveal a quilt, white with a repeating red geometric pattern.
“It’s called Grandmother’s Choice,” Sarah explained.
Jennie unfolded it partially so it wouldn’t touch the ground and held it up. “It’s beyond beautiful,” she breathed. “Look at the stitching …”
Willa stepped closer to peer at the pattern as she ran a hand along the surface. “I love this.”
“You made it for us?” Shep looked amazed.
Mattie nodded. “Sarah and Barbara worked on it. Ellen, too.”
Jennie had little doubt that Mattie had done most of the work herself yet would never mention it; she would consider that boastful. Barbara and Ellen weren’t there, but Jennie’s eyes found Sarah.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “But oh, the hours of hard work, your time …”
“You have become special friends to our family,” Mattie said. “It makes us happy to give you something that is special to us.”
Jennie smiled. “We’ll treasure it forever.”
“Now we must go.”
Mattie walked toward the horses, tied up at the mailbox, and her family followed, a few of the youngest running from their games in the snow to catch up. Zeke shook hands with Shep and Michael and said good-bye to Jennie.
At the last minute, Mattie seemed to think of something and walked back to Jennie. “Would you come to us for dinner tomorrow?” she asked. “You have your family visiting”—she nodded to Michael—“and it would be very nice if we could all sit down together. Also, you can see Efraim and Barbara and their family before they go.”
“We’re so many—it would be another seven people.”
“That makes it even better.”
Jennie laughed. “You have an answer for everything.”
“Then it is settled. Come at twelve o’clock.” She turned to go back to the buggy.
“They don’t take no for an answer,” Shep said with a grin.
Jennie smiled. “Never.”
As the horses trotted away, the children called good-bye to Willa and Tim and their cousins from inside the buggies.
“That’s quite a sight,” Michael said to Jennie, who was clutching the quilt to her. “Looks like fun to ride in those.”
“Everything they do is quite a sight,” she said, staring after them. “Their simple lives are far richer than the lives of so many people. It’s full of a special beauty, with its own rhythms. They know what they’re about, and it gives them peace in their hearts.”
She looked up at Shep and her brother-in-law. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go call my sister.”
Chapter 21
Kimberly and Evan were outside building a snowman when they saw the horse pulling an open sleigh, with Peter sitting in front holding the reins. He gave the slightest tug, and the horse stopped in front of the house.
“Thought you might like a ride,” he called out. “Jump in.”
“Seriously?” Evan asked. “We’re waiting for everybody to drive over, but this would be awesome.”
“We have to ask Dad,” Kimberly reminded him.
“Ask me what?” Michael emerged from the house, pulling on his gloves.
“Can we please please please go? It’s a real live sleigh!” Kimberly ran over and jumped up and down in front of their father as she begged.
“Look how cool it is, Dad,” Evan said.
Peter called to Michael, “I’ll just run them to the house, if it’s okay.”
“Sounds good to me. Thanks.”
Tim must have heard Peter’s voice, because he hurried out of the house as well, his jacket only halfway on. “I’m going with you guys.”
Willa was right behind him. “Me, too.”
“Is there enough room?” Michael asked.
“We have laps,” Willa assured him as she ran by.
The four of them piled in, and Michael could hear his children’s excited voices as Peter turned the sleigh around to go back to his house.
“What’s up?” Shep was coming outside with Jennie.
“The kids went on ahead.”
“Oh, a sleigh ride!” Jennie said, spotting them down the road. “I’ll bet they’re loving that.”
Michael turned to them. “I can’t thank you guys enough for this visit. The kids are having the greatest time.”
Shep made a face of exaggerated apology. “It’s no Aspen ski chalet …”
His brother laughed. Jennie was delighted to see that they were close enough to tease each other, the way they’d done in the old days.
“But listen,” Michael said, his voice serious. “This has been the best thing we ever could have done this vacation. And it’s been like a balm for me, too.”
“We can assure you, the pleasure has been all ours,” Shep said.
“Getting to know the kids again has been the biggest treat,” Jennie added.
Michael kicked at the snow on the ground. “They’ve been banking good memories here. And I’m afraid they’re really going to need them when we get home.”
Jennie put a hand on his arm. “We’ll be right here for them. And for you. Always.”
They were interrupted by Hope’s arrival. She lowered her car window as she pulled into the driveway. “Sorry I’m so late,” she called out. “Shopping delayed me.” She got out of the car and yanked open the back door. “Okay, ready to go,” she said, reaching in for several bags.
“No rush. We just got ready oursel
ves,” Jennie said.
Hope, too, must have felt their evening together had gone badly, because she was pleased but clearly surprised when Jennie called to ask if she would join them at the Fishers’ today.
“I think we have to try again,” Jennie said on the phone. “This could take us some time to get it right. But I want to try.”
“That’s the reason I’m here,” Hope answered.
Now Jennie came forward to give her a hug. Her sister set several shopping bags of gifts on the ground and put her arms around Jennie in return. They stood that way for a long moment, years of things unsaid passing between them.
“Okay,” Jennie finally said, taking a deep breath as she pulled away. “Let’s go in my car.” She turned toward the house and called, “Come on, Scout, you don’t want to miss this afternoon, do you?”
The dog came bounding out. Jennie opened the car door, and he leaped in without breaking stride.
They arrived at the Fishers’ house to find some of Mattie’s and Ellen’s children coming toward the house, pulling sleds. Red-faced from the cold and the exertion of playing outside, they shouted excited hellos to the new guests. Hope whispered to Jennie that she saw candles in the windows but no other outside decorations to indicate the holiday.
Jennie nodded. “They don’t have that. Some cards they made, maybe, some simple gifts. A big meal together. But it’s about their faith. No Santa Claus, no tree.”
“None of the commercial parts.” Hope’s tone was admiring.
“Never. They focus on what Christmas is really about.”
As soon as they stepped into the house, they could smell the enticing cooking aromas. Mattie, Barbara, and Ellen were all moving around the kitchen, arranging platters, stirring steaming pots. A second table had been brought in to accommodate the guests. Jennie pointed out to Hope the handmade angels and stars displayed around the room, the only decorations aside from some greenery draped along the fireplace’s mantel.
Mattie and Ellen left the stove to greet them, offering a special welcome to Hope. Jennie had asked permission to bring her, and the reply had been simple but instant agreement. “That will be very nice,” was all Mattie said. As always, Jennie admired her friend’s combination of directness and discretion.
The Davises had spent part of the morning wrapping gifts for the Fishers: a large book of photographs of horses, a reference book on bird-watching, board games, art supplies, and some accessories for the girls’ dollhouse. For Sarah, the eldest, they brought a china serving bowl to go in her collection of fine dishes for her future home, a custom of Amish girls. Jennie understood she could bring only the practical for Mattie, nothing that suggested vanity or unnecessary adornment. The truth was, no gift she could imagine would be enough to thank the woman who had done so much for her. Still, she wanted to be respectful of the Amish traditions, so she chose a journal and two cranberry-scented candles. For the children, Hope had brought dried fruit and chocolate-covered pretzels as well as a large assortment of stickers with elaborate drawings of flowers and animals for the younger children. Mattie graciously accepted Hope’s gift of two pies; Jennie didn’t have the heart to tell her sister that they would undoubtedly be lost amid the sea of desserts certain to be in store.
“Where’s Zeke?” Shep asked.
“He went back home early this morning.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. We were in the middle of a conversation about planting a vegetable garden.”
“Are you interested?” Jennie asked.
“Tim and I thought we might give it a shot in the spring.”
“You should ask Mattie about that. She grows the fantastic vegetables here.”
“Would you give me some advice?” Shep turned to her.
“Of course.”
“That’s great. But I’m still sorry I didn’t get to see Zeke.”
Mattie smiled. “He is with his family now. He will be back soon. To stay.”
“With his new family,” Jennie couldn’t help adding. Not only was Mattie going to be married, but it seemed as if Shep might make a new friend. Jennie couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
She was standing with Shep as the Fisher children scattered to put away their gifts. Peter approached them, carrying a brown paper shopping bag.
“I wasn’t quite ready yesterday, and I’m not much of a wrapper,” he said, a faint blush of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks. “But I made this for you. For your family.”
He handed it to Shep, who opened the bag and extracted an intricately carved wooden birdhouse. “This is a beautiful piece of work,” he said, turning it to admire the handicraft from every angle.
“You know we like birds, and I thought you might like to have them come to your yard, too.” He looked down. “I wanted to say thank you for … well, for everything.”
Shep put a hand on his shoulder just long enough to let it communicate their gratitude for his words. Jennie felt tears spring to her eyes. Not wanting to embarrass the boy any further, she kept silent.
“It is time,” Barbara announced to no one in particular from the stove. “Dinner is ready.”
Little by little, everyone reassembled in the kitchen and found their seats, men on one side of the table, women on the opposite. The long table was already set with freshly baked rolls and butter, pickles, and salad. After they said a silent prayer, the women and older girls got up to begin serving. Jennie and Willa assisted in setting out enormous platters of roasted chicken, ham, mashed potatoes, noodles, and a variety of vegetables. Set aside on one corner of the counter for dessert, Jennie caught sight of two pecan pies, coffee cake and another pie she couldn’t identify, butterscotch and chocolate puddings, multiple types of home-baked cookies and a chocolate cake. They’ll have to roll me out of here, she thought, but she didn’t care. Today was a day to celebrate and not worry about anything at all.
She took her seat again and looked around at everyone busily engaged in eating and conversation. Tim sat comfortably next to his father, passing him a roll and laughing at something he’d said. Willa was next to Nan and Sarah, looking so grown up, Jennie thought as she recalled their first awkward meal at the Fishers’ house—it seemed so long ago—when her daughter had been too shy and uncomfortable to speak to anyone. Willa had truly come into her own, she mused, perhaps more than any of them. Jennie allowed herself to bask in the joy it gave her to work on the candy business with her child. That had been another gift, completely unexpected. She took pride in having started that business, although Willa probably deserved equal credit for her inventiveness. Any way you looked at it, the bonds that had been created between her and Willa were worth far more than any business success.
Michael was on Shep’s other side, leaning across the table to pour milk for Kimberly. Despite the sadness she knew he was feeling over the loss of his marriage, the lines of stress on his face had eased in just the short time he had been with them. Whatever difficulties awaited him, she had to believe he was on the right track in reclaiming his true nature, going back to the genuine person he was.
Next to her was Hope, the biggest surprise among the many surprises Jennie had experienced over the past year. She didn’t believe it would be easy, but she knew that they were on the road to forming a new relationship. They would have to feel their way along, examining old wounds and questions, exposing to the open air everything that had been locked away for so long. It wasn’t just Jennie’s wounds; Hope had her own, and they would deal with all of them. Together.
Most wonderful and perhaps most miraculous was the transition in her marriage. She and Shep had come so close to the edge, she realized, it was frightening to consider what might have happened. Instead, they had rediscovered themselves and each other. The resentment that had smoldered beneath the surface had evaporated, which enabled them to see and feel clearly once again. There wasn’t a drop of beer or alcohol in their house, and he started every day eager to get to his shop and see what new approach he could take towar
d making it grow. The enjoyment he was getting out of his work had transformed it from another experience to be endured to an opportunity to create his own business, one that he actually enjoyed.
Mattie was sitting at the opposite end of the table from Jennie but just then happened to catch her eye. Ah, Jennie thought, what would have happened without Mattie and this family? It was the Fishers who had shown her how to persevere. They moved forward no matter what the hardship or sorrow, without complaint, and always with humility. They looked for the best in one another, and they forgave with open hearts. Shep and their children had learned the lesson as well, she reflected, and from that had come so many good things. This one Amish family, with their hard work and simple joys, had taught them some very complicated lessons.
She smiled at Mattie, who smiled back but was distracted by Barbara asking her a question. She answered as she served another piece of chicken to one of the children. Jennie shook her head. As always, Mattie was the rock-solid heart of the household. Jennie thought of the quilt they had received yesterday. When she’d said they would treasure it, she had meant every word. Still, the Fishers’ biggest gift was an intangible one, impossible to show but priceless in value.
Jennie felt something move against her leg under the table. She bent down to peer under the tablecloth. Scout was sitting there.
“Well, hello,” she said in a loud whisper to him. “You know you shouldn’t be in here.”
His dark eyes gleamed as he looked up at her.
“Yes, it has been the best year ever, hasn’t it? I’m grateful, too.”
He rested his face on her knee. She smiled and reached down to scratch behind his ears.
“Thank you,” she said. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
For Jenna and Carly,
wherever you may go in life,
my love goes with you
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my wonderful editor, Linda Marrow, and the other people on her staff who have provided me with so much support, including Junessa Viloria and Penelope Haynes.
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