“What?” His brows furrowed, wrinkling his forehead. “That’s not what’s going on here.”
“I think it is. Tuesday morning you said all the right things while trying to console and calm me down when Gertie showed up gifting you with clothing she’d made. But then you learned you could have a different life. One without difficult Rose.”
“That’s not what was going on.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I misspoke to Erma on Monday night, and she took the news to Daed. That’s why he and the preacher came here to talk to me.”
Rose paused for a moment, thinking about Erma and how she treated Joel and Rose’s personal information. Her skin burned as unbridled anger rose from some abandoned place inside her. “But couldn’t you have told that preacher not to even consider discussing our marriage? That we’d never want an annulment and were on our way to an intimate marriage?”
He closed his eyes. “Ya, I tried but—”
“No buts, Joel. You wanted to know if our marriage could be easily voided. You didn’t stop them. And you kept all of it from me while…” She looked at the closed bedroom doors, embarrassed at how hard she’d been pushing for them to begin a new chapter of their lives. “Forget how awful this makes me feel, how unloved and stupid. You know I want us to have a real married life. But why would you be willing to break up the family and wound your children?”
“I don’t want the family to break up. It’s hard to imagine the pain it would cause the children. Listen to me, Rose.”
She shook the envelope at him. “If the marriage was dissolved, what were you thinking was going to happen to me? That I could just visit the children? I have a better plan. You move out. I’ll help you pack, and I’ll live here with the children.”
He blinked, looking bewildered by her suggestion.
“What, Joel? You don’t like it when it’s your life being jerked out from under you?”
“But I’m not trying to take anything from you. This is what I was afraid of! I…thought—”
“Ya, I know what you’re thinking. They’re your children. You remind me and them of that whenever you’re annoyed with me.” Still holding the envelope in one hand, she fisted the other. “I hate when you call me stepmom. Why do you do that? We are very open with the children about who their real Mamm is. We have them call me Mama to make sure I’m not infringing on her place. We talk of her to them. So tell me, why remind them that I’m a stepmom?”
He appeared surprised by the territory the argument had entered, and it took him a moment to answer. “Sometimes I feel they need a reminder that you don’t owe them every breath you take. You’ve been a great gift to all of us—but at the cost of your own interests and identity.”
“I set good boundaries.”
“Sometimes. At other times you give them too much of your day and energy.”
“They’re children. I’m the only mother they have now, and it’s what a mom does. This annulment isn’t about the church’s concerns with our marriage. You’re just looking for a dash toward freedom.”
“Rose, you’re letting your imagination be fueled by old pain. I get how I’ve set a brush fire.” He shook his head, clearly distraught. “It’s what I feared most—that this thing from out of nowhere would fan flames of doubt. How you feel right now isn’t based on what’s happening today or this week. Listen to me. I was so caught off guard and offended that I didn’t gather my wits and argue with the preacher, and that was wrong. But remember that I started the addition of the bedroom. Can’t you hear me when I say I love you?”
“No, I can’t. Not at this point. I heard you when you said it on Tuesday. Since then I’ve been the one asking for every kiss, and I asked the men to help finish our bedroom. And you? You started keeping a pretty important secret.” She shoved the envelope into the hidden pocket of her apron. “Now when you tell me how you feel, I can’t be as quick to believe you. I need some fresh air.” She grabbed her coat and went outside.
Night had fallen, and the darkness pressed in hard. She went to the barn, lit a lantern, and hitched the horse to the carriage. Holding tight to the leather reins, she pulled out of the driveway. In her four years of living here, had she once left the house by herself? Whenever she left without any of the children, she was with Joel.
Her thoughts were as scattered as her heart was broken. She could deal with being a second-class wife. As things go, she had been dealt a very good hand—a fun and kind husband, three sweet and smart-as-a-whip children, a lovely home, a comfortable income, a supportive community, and a few really good friends—like Elise, Shirley Wagner, and Joel’s Mamm, Sarah. But to be uncertain that he ever would or could love her?
Tension made her shoulders ache, and her knuckles were white from gripping the reins. The clippety-clop of the horse’s hoofs against the cold pavement worked some of the angst out of her shoulders. Why would Erma start this kind of trouble between Joel and her? The woman didn’t like her, but did she know the irreversible damage she’d done? Rose and Joel had come so far, respecting and trusting each other all along the way.
When Erma’s house came into sight, Rose was tempted to stop there.
“Just stay on the road,” she mumbled, but despite herself she pulled onto the driveway. What was she doing here? Some people could be reasoned with. From all Rose had seen, Erma was not one of them. Still, she tethered the horse to the hitching post, went to the front door, and knocked.
Leo, Erma’s better half, opened the door. The old man’s eyes grew as big as his smile. “Hey, Rose, kumm.” He peered out the door. “Are you by yourself?”
“I am.”
Either she or Joel brought the children here two or three times a month and stayed to help while the little ones visited their grandparents. Maybe part of Rose’s anger was that she’d gone out of her way to treat Erma fairly. Was Leo in agreement with Erma, disliking Rose and willing to meddle? It didn’t seem as if he was against her. He responded as warm as sunshine to her, had since her first month here.
“Leo?” Erma called. “Who’s here?”
He motioned for Rose to follow him. “Rose is. She’s by herself.”
They went into the living room, where Erma was rocked back in the recliner with a pillow under her knees and one under each elbow. Her ankles and the joints in her hands were quite swollen. Erma stared at her.
Rose took a seat on the couch. Her heart raced, but now that she was facing Erma, she knew what she wanted to say. She had a story to share, one she’d never told anyone for fear of being accused of witchcraft. She no longer cared. “It might sound like deviltry, but in early December four years ago, the same week that Joel returned to work after taking two months off, Mose and Levi contracted the flu. I’d taken them to the doctor’s and had meds and instructions, but I couldn’t get Levi’s fever down, and I couldn’t get him to drink anything. I was starting to panic. I didn’t know Joel well, and I was afraid he’d be angry if I called him home on his second day back. I was terrified for little Levi. What if I handled the situation wrong and he died? All three children were whiny or crying, and I couldn’t think clearly to save my life. I remember standing in the kitchen, paralyzed with fear, asking, what do I need to do? Sometimes I pray these words: ‘Dear God, if it’s not a bother, show me what to do, and let Your truth set me free.’ Is that silly? But peace came from nowhere and encircled me. And just like the night I arrived and knew what I needed to do about getting breast milk for Grace, I knew what I needed to do for Levi. It was as if Florence was right there with me, guiding me. I went to the closet in Joel’s bedroom office, a place I’d never gone to before, and I pulled out an adult-sized tea set. I steeped tea and added ice cubes, and I took it to the bathroom, where I fixed a lukewarm bubble bath and got Levi and Mose in the tub. We played high tea, and he drank every bit of the liquid. He then drank cool tap water directly from the teapot. There was no way I knew where that tea set was or that Levi would take in liquid while he was in a tub.”
“That’
s not deviltry. That’s God,” Leo said. “And maybe somehow it was Florence.”
Rose put her arms on her thighs and leaned forward. “Sometimes when I least expect it, it’s as if I can hear her whisper, ‘Denki, Rose. Denki.’ ”
One thing was for sure, despite the overwrought emotions of the last few weeks, Rose wasn’t the same young woman who’d arrived four years ago. That person couldn’t have stood up for herself. As much as she’d given Joel, he’d given back to her—drop by kind drop.
Erma stared straight ahead as if the bookcase held a television showing something mesmerizing.
“That’s nice,” Leo said. “None of us knows God’s ways of leading us. If Florence can see you, I imagine she is saying, ‘Thank you.’ ”
Rose was aware how very dry her mouth felt. “But I know if she can see me and if she’s whispered thanks, it’s not about what I got right. The whispers are because my heart is set on doing as much right by her children and Joel as I possibly can.” Rose stood, focused on Erma. “If Florence whispered to you, what would she say?” She moved to the side of Erma’s chair and whispered in her ear, “I think she’d ask, ‘What are you doing, Mamm? Is your heart set on doing right?’ ”
Erma’s eyes never left the wall. “You need to leave.”
“Did you stir a stink, Erma?” Leo angled his head. “I’ve told you a hundred times to leave Rose and Joel alone.”
Rose’s eyes misted, and she kissed Leo’s cheek. “Denki.”
“Don’t let anything come between you and Joel.”
She wanted to tell him it was too late for that. Erma had wanted to hurt and embarrass her. She’d wanted to come between Joel and her and ruin their camaraderie and trust. The woman had accomplished her goal.
But Rose just nodded and slipped out the door.
Joel had turned the kerosene lamps as high as they could go, and one of the two portable gas pole lights sputtered as the propane tank threatened to run out of fuel. It was two in the morning, and Rose was still out for some fresh air. His blood was simmering as he turned the flathead screwdriver, attaching the brackets for the curtain rod. The new bedroom echoed with each move he made, a sure sign that the furniture, bedding, and rugs were missing. That might have something to do with the fact that he and Rose hadn’t shopped for any of it yet. Would they ever?
Cold air seeped through the window he’d opened a few inches so he could hear her carriage when she returned. His best guess was that she was at Elise’s, safe and sound. He’d like to confirm that, but he refused to call—maybe because he wanted to respect her right for space or maybe because he was too angry to chase after her. He knew that much of his anger was at himself because she had responded to the annulment conversation as badly as he’d worried she might, and he hadn’t handled it well.
The distant clippety-clops of a horse’s hoofs on pavement caught his attention, and he got off the stepladder and went out on the front porch. Warm peace and agitation flooded him when the rig turned onto the driveway. It was Rose, and she was safe. She went right past him and pulled into the barn. He stepped back into the house and grabbed his coat.
It was now December 23, just two days before Christmas, and not only had the past several hours been completely frustrating, but he doubted things would improve anytime soon. Both he and Rose were in limbo. They didn’t have to be. She could choose to believe he loved her and say she wasn’t interested in whether an annulment was possible. But no.
“Women,” he mumbled as he strode toward the barn.
In this moment some of the traditions of his faith struck him as unfair. Women were smart and emotionally wise, but Amish men were supposed to be the leaders at all times. As if his gender automatically made him better at knowing what to do in every situation. Clearly it didn’t.
The silvery glow of the moon against the snow illuminated the night, and Rose was a mere silhouette inside the barn as she got out of the rig. She lit a kerosene lantern. Her hair was down, and the prayer Kapp was in her hand. She looked weary and disheveled and completely unaware of him.
He paused just inside the building. “Hey.” His voice was a low rumble through the barn.
She glanced up. “Hi.” She began removing the rigging from the horse, and he disconnected the carriage and rolled it out of the way.
Maybe he should’ve gone to her with the information about the annulment on Tuesday. Clearly he’d spared neither of them anything by doing it his way. It was part of his natural design to pick the right moment for a big conversation. He and Rose had successfully navigated four years by that method, these past weeks excluded, as the right moment to talk about his vision for the new room hadn’t presented itself either. He sighed and thought maybe it was time to change how he communicated with his wife.
“I’m going to bed.” She dug the envelope out of her coat pocket, laid it on a hay bale, and walked toward the double-wide doorway of the barn.
“Rose, wait.”
She paused and turned. “I’m exhausted, Joel.”
If she could really hear him for two minutes, they could clear the air. But since she was hurt, all she heard when he spoke was her Mamm’s belittling. She couldn’t believe he valued her because she couldn’t see her value. He imagined it would be like looking into a mirror but seeing a raccoon staring back at him. If her Mamm hadn’t been a raging backbiter, maybe Rose could see herself for who she was. And not turn the whole thing upside down.
He picked up the envelope. “I’ve insulted and offended you, but can you give me a break here? This whole mess hit like a tornado, with no time for me to think. I made a bad call. But—”
“Ya.” She held up one hand. “I got it. Elise says you’re right and I’m wrong.”
The muscles throughout his body tightened. If she hadn’t believed Elise on matters of husbands and wives and love, he had little chance that she’d hear him. “My actions weren’t perfect, but they didn’t convey what you think.”
“Maybe.” She nodded and said nothing else for several long moments. “That’s the problem. However I look at this, the best I can come up with is maybe you weren’t looking for a way out. And that’s not good enough. Not for a real marriage, it isn’t.” She shook her head. “I’ve decided that I need to go home, to my parents’ house, for a bit. I haven’t been back since arriving here four years ago, and now seems like the perfect time. I need more than a few hours away, Joel.” She sighed. “Elise is picking up Grace and me this morning after the boys go to school.”
“For how long?”
“I’m not sure. A couple of days, I think.” She walked toward the house.
Did she intend to stay through Christmas? Through New Year’s Day? He decided to leave those decisions up to her without asking questions.
“If that’s what you need, then I’m for it, but I need you to know that I believe all marriages have their own story. One where you love so much it makes your head spin. When your heart isn’t soaring with delight, it aches with shared grief. It’s a union so strong you’d do anything for your spouse, the very one who can anger you more than anyone. But that person owns half of you, and the love between the two of you is stronger than any anger.” He watched the snowflakes whirl around her, wishing she’d face him. “Rose, I’m head over heels in love with you.”
She turned toward him again, blank faced as she stood in the falling snow watching him. The moon caressed her body and long flowing hair. She looked like the angel he thought her to be. In the Old Testament, Jacob wrestled with an angel, so clearly angels were fierce too.
She drew a deep breath. “Ya, maybe so.”
She went toward the house, leaving him in the cold.
As Elise pulled her Yukon to the side of the old farmhouse, Rose glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Almost one thirty in the afternoon. They had made good time. Elise turned off the SUV, but Rose remained in place, studying the house she’d grown up in. It seemed odd how little she’d missed this place.
Elise unbuc
kled her seat belt. “You need a minute?”
“No. I’m fine.” Rose’s heart pounded as she got out of the vehicle and opened the door to the backseat. “You ready to stretch those legs, sweetheart?”
“Ya, Mama. But let me do it.”
“Okay.” Rose prepared to wait a minute. The it was unbuckling the harness and buckle connector to her car seat.
Elise came around the vehicle. “Should I get your overnight bag now?”
“Not yet. Let’s see how the afternoon goes. Okay?”
Elise nodded. “Good thinking.”
During the long trip here, Rose could’ve clarified a few things about her plans, but she hadn’t felt like talking.
Once Grace was free of her car-seat restraints, she held her arms toward her mama. Rose lifted her out and held her.
The side door of the old farmhouse opened, and Rose’s Mamm stepped out, using one hand to shield her eyes from the sun to see who was in her driveway.
Maybe Rose should’ve called before arriving. “Hi, Mamm. It’s me.” Rose walked toward her but stopped a few feet away.
Mamm lowered her hand, clearly able to see Rose now, but she just stood there.
“Mamm, this is Grace. Grace, this is your Mammi Kate.”
Grace held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
The sternness on Mamm’s face eased a bit. “She knows a lot of Englisch for a girl her age.”
Grace’s skill in both languages at this age was intentional on Rose’s part, but she knew her Mamm wouldn’t see it as a good thing.
Rose drew a deep breath and stepped closer. “You should shake her hand, Mamm.”
Mamm shook her hand. “I suppose I’m pleased to meet you too.”
Rose knew what her Mamm meant. She wouldn’t truly know if she was pleased until she got to know the little girl a bit.
The Angel of Forest Hill Page 11
