by Marta Perry
“She’s your twin, Johnny. If you want to see her again, then—”
“I’m scared.”
The words sent her gaze flying to his face. He gave her a rueful smile.
“Stupid, isn’t it? But I’m afraid to walk up to my own sister.”
She tried to harden her heart against that smile. Johnny wasn’t her responsibility any longer. “I think you’d better. Or else just go away again.”
“I can’t go away. I’m going to be working here for the next six months, at least. I’m doing research at the medical clinic over in Fostertown.”
She could only stare at him. “You are?”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it? I just finished a degree in genetics, and I’m going to assist Dr. Brandenmyer in his work. You know about him?” He slanted a questioning look at her.
“Ja, I know.”
Everyone in the community knew about the clinic and the doctor. Geneticists wanted to study the Amish because of the hereditary diseases that occurred too often in a community where most folks were descended from the same small group of ancestors.
Dr. Brandenmyer did gut work, so people said, ministering to those who were ill, in addition to conducting his research. That was not always an easy thing in a society as closed as the Amish were.
“Working with him is the opportunity of a lifetime.” Johnny stared past her, as if looking at some future she couldn’t see.
“Is your background why the doctor hired you? Because you were Amish once?”
Johnny frowned. “I have very good qualifications. But I suppose my heritage didn’t hurt.”
“And you want to get back in touch with your family for what?”
She was feeling her way. Once, she’d have said that she knew every thought that went through Johnny’s mind. Now she feared that what she said to him might determine whether he saw his family or not.
Please, Father. Guide me. I don’t know what is best to do or say.
“I want to see them because they’re my family.” His tone was sharp, but then he smiled, shaking his head. “But it’s true. I need to find a way to make contact with the community again if I’m going to be much help to Dr. Brandenmyer. And it’s worthwhile work—you must know that. It can save lives.”
Children’s lives. She thought of the children she’d known throughout the community—the ones afflicted with Crigler-Najjar syndrome, spending half their lives under the special blue lights that helped them survive to grow up. Or those with the other genetic diseases that were too common among the Amish.
She didn’t want to be involved, didn’t want to risk the hurt that would come with his return.
But if what Johnny talked about could help those children, wasn’t it worth at least trying to smooth his path? She couldn’t easily turn away from something that might help them.
Her throat tightened, and she had to push out the words. “All right. I’ll talk to Rachel. I make no promises. But I’ll tell her that you’re back and that you want to see her.”
Johnny grasped her hand in a quick, warm grip before she sensed what he was about to do. “Thank you, Leah. You’re a good friend.”
She pulled her hand free, denying the pleasure she felt at his touch, his words.
“I’m making no promises,” she said again. She’d made promises to Johnny once, and that had come to nothing.
“Good enough.” He stood, as if afraid she’d change her mind if he delayed. “I’ll stop by tomorrow after school to see what she said.”
“Not tomorrow.” He’d turned into a typical Englischer, always in a hurry. “Maybe on Wednesday. I’ll have been able to talk to Rachel by then.”
He looked as if he wanted to argue, but then he nodded, his lips curving into the smile that was still familiar.
“All right. Take your time. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
He’d gotten what he’d come for, so he moved away quickly, sliding into the car without a backward glance toward her.
She rose, standing on the top step. Watching until the red car disappeared around the bend in the lane.
Johnny Kile was back. She didn’t think she’d quite accepted it yet.
He wasn’t the boy she’d loved, that was certain sure. But who he was now—she didn’t quite know. Or how it would affect her, affect all of them, having him here.
Any hope Leah had of going to see Rachel that evening disappeared when she got home and discovered that her brother Levi and his family were coming for supper. Her mother was already bustling about the farmhouse kitchen, and whatever tiredness Leah had observed earlier had vanished in her excitement over having a full table for supper.
“I know the boys have big appetites, but you are making twice as much as they will eat. Why don’t you just give us the leftovers from the picnic?” She’d noticed that, predictably, nearly as much food had gone home again as Mamm had brought.
Her mother shook her head, looking aghast. “I can’t do that. They would think I wasn’t happy to see them.”
“You see Levi every day.” With her oldest brother doing most of the farm chores now, that was inevitable. “And Barbara and the children at least two or three times a week.”
“Not for supper,” her mother said with unanswerable logic. She thrust a wooden spoon into Leah’s hand. “You make the dumplings. You have a lighter hand with them than Anna does.”
“Anna just doesn’t want to admit how good a cook she is, for fear she’ll have to do more.” But she couldn’t help but be pleased that her mother thought well of her cooking, even if the feeling was a bit prideful.
The Schnitz un Knepp was already steaming on the stove. Leah took the yellow mixing bowl from the shelf. She’d concentrate on getting the soft dough to just the right consistency. Maybe then she could push away thoughts of Johnny, of Rachel’s reaction when she heard the news of his return, even of Daniel Glick and his children. Those worries would have to be dealt with later.
An hour later, the substantial array of food Mamm considered appropriate for a family supper was spread on the long table and the house was crowded with people—all, it seemed, talking at once. Mamm sank into her chair.
Leah, taking her place next to her, frowned slightly, her gaze on her mother’s face. Even when she closed her eyes as her father began to pray, the image of her mother’s face lingered.
Mamm had aged since her bout with cancer, there was no doubt about that. Her brown hair, pulled tightly back into a bun from its center part, seemed to show more gray all the time.
But it was the strained tiredness on her mother’s face at the end of a long day that worried Leah. Nothing would convince Mamm that she couldn’t do all the things she used to do.
When the prayer ended, Leah leaned across to murmur to her mother under the clatter of cutlery. “Don’t you get up again, Mamm. If anything needs fetched for the meal, Anna and I will take care of it.” She glanced at her younger sister. “Ain’t so?”
Anna’s bright blue eyes registered understanding, and she nodded quickly. “Ja, that’s right, Mamm. You cooked, so we’ll serve and clear.”
Leah smiled. The baby of the family, at eighteen Anna could be unpredictable—sweet and happy one moment, distracted and short-tempered the next. That was natural, wasn’t it? When she’d been that age, she’d probably been the same.
When she’d been that age, she’d been in love with Johnny.
She shoved that thought away again, trying to focus on her sister. She couldn’t help but worry sometimes that Anna’s job, working at a Mennonite bakery in town, brought too many temptations into her life.
Still, Anna was gut at heart. She’d soon settle down and turn her flightiness into falling in love with a suitable young man.
“You have some new scholars at the school, Leah, ain’t so?” Barbara, her brother Levi’s wife, turned from spooning a dumpling into baby Sarah’s mouth to look at Leah inquiringly.
“The Glick children started today,” she said. “There are three of them—s
ix, eight, and ten. The other children are making them welcome.”
“It’s gut for all of us to do that,” her mother said. “Poor man, a widower alone with three young ones. We must do all we can for them. I’ve invited them to supper tomorrow night.”
Leah’s heart sank. Not that her mother wouldn’t be welcoming even if she didn’t have two unmarried daughters in the house, but still—
“A widower with young children needs a wife. Maybe a fine opportunity for our Leah, ja?” As usual, Barbara burst out with something the others might be thinking but not be ready to say.
“I’m not looking for a husband,” she said, with no hope that would end the topic.
“Every woman is looking for a husband,” Barbara insisted. Her face beamed with such happiness that Leah couldn’t find it in her heart to be annoyed, though she did sometimes wish that Levi had found himself a wife who wasn’t quite so eager to run everyone else’s life. Mamm’s matchmaking intentions were enough to deal with.
I shouldn’t think that of Barbara. A quick prayer formed in her mind. She is a gut soul, I know, and she makes Levi happy.
Across the table, Anna put her fork down and leaned forward to glare at Barbara around Levi’s bulk. “Every woman is not like you, Barbara.”
Leah landed a gentle kick on Anna’s ankle, and Anna transferred the glare to her. Anna should know by now that the best way to take their sister-in-law’s pronouncements was to ignore them.
“Every woman wants a home of her own,” Barbara said, her good humor unimpaired. “You’ll find that out when you’re a little older, Anna.” She beamed around the table. “And now is a gut time to tell you that Levi and I will have an addition to the family, come December.”
Under cover of the flood of congratulations from Mamm and Daad and brother Mahlon, Leah exchanged glances with Anna. Another young one coming, with Sarah not out of diapers yet and the little boys only two and four.
Children were a blessing to any Amish family, but where were Levi and Barbara going to put them all in the small house they rented on the Evansville road? She rose, pressing her cheek against Barbara’s and murmuring her good wishes.
Daad cleared his throat, and everyone turned toward the head of the table. Daad exchanged glances with Mamm, and Leah saw a faint nod.
“Your mother and I have something to tell you also.” Her father’s lean, weathered face was as solemn as if he were at prayer. “We feel it is time for us to move into the daadi haus and let Levi and Barbara take over the farm.”
Leah felt it like a blow to the stomach. Levi taking over the farm? Was Daad really ready for that now?
But the past two years had been hard on him, too. Though he seemed as strong as ever, his beard was completely white now, and he didn’t move as fast as he used to.
She’d known it would come sometime. That was the way things were done. She just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.
Still, the daadi haus, connected to the farmhouse by a covered walk, had been ready for new occupants since Grossmutter died five years ago. Levi was already doing much of the farmwork, and everyone in the community knew this was his place.
But what would the change mean for her and Anna? Mahlon took the news happily enough, as would her brother Joseph. They were already settled in jobs, Joseph with his farm machinery repair and Mahlon as a carpentry apprentice.
Joseph and his wife, Myra, were probably thinking of starting a family soon, too, and everyone knew that Mahlon was courting the youngest Miller girl, with an eye toward a wedding in November, the traditional time for Amish weddings. Their lives would not be changed by this, but Leah’s and Anna’s—
“What about Leah and me?” Anna’s voice rose above the chatter before Leah could administer another kick. “What are we supposed to do? Do you expect us both to crowd into that small spare room in the daadi haus?”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine—” Leah began, but Levi was already shaking his head at his youngest sister.
“We would not put you out of your rooms, no. You and Leah must never think that. The boys can share, and the new babe will come in with us for a while.”
And she and Anna would live in a house run with relentless cheerfulness by Barbara. Barbara would change things—it was only natural that she’d want to do things her way in her own house. Leah managed to keep a smile on her face, but she feared Anna wouldn’t hold on to her temper long in that situation.
“Of course if you did decide to move,” Barbara added, “we would put the baby into your room.”
Anna drew breath, and Leah managed to connect with her foot.
“I’m sure we can work all the details out later.” She picked up the platter of smoked sausage surrounded by dried apples and dumplings, and handed it to Mahlon. “Who is ready for more? Mamm made enough to feed half the county.”
Anna subsided, but the dark look she sent her sister declared that she wasn’t finished with the subject.
By the time the dishes were washed, Levi and Barbara and their children had gone home. Leah hung up the tea towel and glanced around the kitchen to be sure all was as pristine as her mother expected.
The wooden cabinets had been wiped down, and the countertop and long wooden table shone. The only decoration on the wall, a calendar from the feed store in town, was a bit crooked, so she straightened it.
She frowned slightly. Her parents were in the living room, Mamm knitting and Daadi reading the latest issue of the Budget newspaper. Mahlon had hurried off in his courting buggy as soon as the evening chores were done, plainly headed toward the Miller farm and his sweetheart. Where was Anna?
A quick walk through the house didn’t turn her up, and her bonnet and cape were missing from their usual place. Leah slung a shawl around her shoulders and stepped outside.
It was dusk, and a damp April chill permeated the air. Soon it would be May, and the lilacs and roses would perfume the night. Even now, the rhubarb in Mamm’s garden had begun to unfurl its wide green leaves.
Across the fields, yellow light glowed from Daniel Glick’s windows. The farmhouse had stood empty for months, and seeing lights there again felt right.
But that didn’t answer the question of where her sister was. If she called out, Mamm would hear and be disturbed.
Standing there, undecided, she heard a faint jingle of metal from the stable. She clutched her shawl around her against the cool air and headed across the yard.
The stable door stood slightly ajar. She slid it open. Sure enough, Anna was there, harnessing Ben to Mamm’s buggy. She swung around, startled, at the sound of the door.
“Going someplace with Mamm’s horse and buggy tonight, are you?”
Leah kept her voice light, having no wish to get into a squabble. Still, she had to talk some sense into Anna over the changes that were inevitable, and this was a chance to get her sister alone.
Anna flushed guiltily. “Mamm won’t mind. She lets me take it every day for work. Tonight I want to meet some of my friends.”
“Amish friends or English friends?” Leah crossed the wide planks of the barn floor and stroked Ben’s smooth neck. The gelding nuzzled her, as if to complain about this extra excursion in his day.
Anna shrugged impatiently. “Both, I guess. Does it matter? You and the boys did what you liked during your rumspringa, ain’t so?”
Somehow she had the feeling that Anna’s ideas of what to do during the traditional running-around time of Amish youth were a bit more adventurous than hers had been. But then, she’d had Johnny, with things already settled between them.
“It doesn’t matter if you have English friends, I suppose.” She could see that Anna was in the mood to take offense at just about anything. “I just think it’s late to be setting out.”
“It wouldn’t be this late if Barbara hadn’t insisted on going all over the house, as if she hadn’t seen it before.” Anger showed in Anna’s quick movements as she fastened the harness and gathered the lines. “She even looked in my dow
er chest, as if that was any of her business.”
Barbara had only too obviously been measuring the rooms for her own furniture. “I know she can be a little too enthusiastic at times, but—”
“Is that what you call it? She’s a busybody, and why Levi wanted to marry her and be bossed around all of his life, I don’t understand.”
“None of us ever understands what makes someone fall in love.” She touched Anna’s shoulder, but her sister shrugged it off. “She is his wife, she makes him happy, and they are moving in. There’s nothing you can do about it, so you’d best accept it with good grace.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
The patience she had with her sister was wearing thin. As the baby of the family, Anna had not been spoiled, exactly, but she’d certainly been treated with more indulgence than the older ones.
“You don’t have a choice,” she said firmly. “The decision to move into the daadi haus is Mamm and Daadi’s, and they’ve made it. You’re not going to make them unhappy over this, are you?”
Anna paused, hand on the buggy rail. “I wouldn’t do that.” She swung herself onto the buggy seat, the full skirt of her rose-colored dress flaring out. She picked up the lines and then paused, face sobering under the brim of her black bonnet. “Leah—do you think Mamm is really all right?”
“Of course she is.” Her response came quickly, and she could only hope she sounded as sure as she’d like to feel. “Go along now and have fun with your friends.” She smiled, relieved when Anna smiled back.
“All right then. I won’t be late. I promise.” She clucked to Ben, and the buggy moved off.
Leah stood watching the battery-operated lantern on the back of the buggy disappear down the lane. What was behind Anna’s attitude?
For some reason she saw again Daniel’s indulgent look at the mention of his youngest. Maybe it was human nature to be lenient with the last child.
It was too late now to go back and redo anything about Anna’s rearing. Leah could only trust her sister’s warm heart and common sense to get her through the changes that were coming in their lives.
