Long ago, she’d considered encouraging Gideon’s interest. Last year, her last summer and fall in Ohio, maybe she’d been unfair to him by giving him her attention. Then around the same time, Jacob had caught her interest and she’d abandoned any real thoughts of Gideon as a possible husband.
Now, here she was a year later, with no Gideon, no Jacob, and with a jumble of feelings and thoughts about Thaddeus Zook she dared not share with anyone.
“Supper’s ready when you are,” Aenti Chelle called down the hallway to Betsy’s room.
“I’ll be right there,” she replied. “I’m going to shower first, though. It’s been a long day.”
Betsy opened her bedroom door, with her robe over her arm. She paused at the linen closet long enough to pick up a fresh towel.
“Supper will keep. You freshen up,” Aenti Chelle called from the kitchen area.
Betsy glanced around the corner as she headed toward the bathroom. Aenti Chelle sat at the table, her face lit by the glow of her computer screen.
Betsy’s muscles welcomed the hot water washing away the tiredness of the day. Truthfully, after the shower, she wanted to slide beneath the covers and do nothing but sleep. Four a.m. would come early, the time she knew she had to get up and prepare to face the next day’s customers.
She rinsed her hair while leaning her head against the tile and crying as the water poured over her. Seeing Jacob and Natalie had ripped off a painful scab on her heart. Yes, she was healing, but it had taken longer than she’d thought. Then there was Gideon, showing up in Pinecraft.
Enough. She needed to count her blessings, of which she had many. A family who loved her, a roof over her head, plenty to eat, good health (except for the tiredness), and her new bakery. And those were the first to come to mind.
She turned off the faucet and the rest of the water swirled down the drain. Soon she’d bundled herself in her soft robe and left her hair down to air dry. The weight of her hair felt strange as it hung to her waist.
“You look comfortable,” Aenti Chelle said as Betsy entered the kitchen.
“The shower helped.” She yawned as she put a small slab of lasagna on her plate along with a tong’s worth of salad. “I’m going to sleep well tonight.”
She sat down at the chair across from her aunt, then bowed her head over her meal silently to ask the blessing. When she looked up, Aenti Chelle was studying her face.
“Betsy, what’s wrong? Your eyes look red.”
She wanted to give the excuses of hot water or her tiredness. Instead, everything came tumbling out along with the tears, Gideon showing up, along with Jacob and Natalie, and the way she felt drawn to Thaddeus Zook, something she’d told no one.
The forbidden tears continued as she spoke. “Oh, Aenti … I’m so … overwhelmed, and I’m so tired.”
“I know it was hard for you, with Jacob. But I didn’t know about Gideon.”
Betsy picked up her paper napkin and blew her nose. “What’s the phrase the Englisch girls use? ‘Led him on?’ Part of me feels like I did. I was just being nice, I thought, and, well, some of the other girls were getting married. But we never courted. We only walked home, in groups, after church.”
“It doesn’t seem to me like you would do so, not deliberately. But he’s here in Pinecraft?”
“Yes. He said he’s taken a leave from his job, and he’ll go back after Christmas. He’s very clear about why he’s here. To court me. Or, convince me to agree.”
“What a fine kettle of fish. Did you tell him specifically you’re not interested?”
“Yes, I tried. He said he believes Gotte wants us to be together.”
“What do you think?”
“I told him Gotte hadn’t told me we should be together. He almost laughed at me, that I would presume to know what Gotte wants, and it be different than what Gideon knew.” She crumpled up the napkin and set it beside her untouched supper plate. “But Aenti, how do we know Gotte’s will? I don’t know if Gotte would tell me what to do, like Gideon claims he knows.”
Truthfully, she wasn’t sure about knowing Gotte. She knew the rules, but as far as the all-powerful Gotte, the king of heaven and earth, taking time to let her know what to do, she didn’t think He would have the time, with all the billions of people in the planet and the entire universe to keep in order.
“Oh, people have asked the same question for centuries, I’m sure.” Aenti Chelle closed her laptop computer. “What I have learned is God can speak to us a number of ways, through the Bible, through others who believe in Him, through circumstances in our lives, and through prayer.”
“I didn’t know. I was hoping for a voice, or something.” Betsy felt rather foolish. She’d heard Bible stories of Gotte speaking to people and didn’t think He did it nowadays, not with a voice or any other way. Somehow, though, through some mystery she couldn’t understand, Gotte’s wille would reveal itself. Or so she’d always believed. And after her hoping and praying for an answer about Jacob didn’t come, well, she’d been hoping against hope for her bakery.
The uncertainty of it all—the bakery, Gideon, her healing wounds over Jacob, her new feelings and interest in Thaddeus, piled on top of her exhaustion, almost took her breath away. She remembered the one time she’d ridden on a Ferris wheel at a Sarasota fair last winter, when she crested the top of the wheel and came down on the other side—terrifying, stomach-dropping, holding on for her life to the bar. Yes, that was the feeling.
“You’re not alone in feeling that way. Did you know, though, the Bible says we can boldly approach what’s called God’s throne of grace, to obtain mercy, and find grace in our time of need?”
Nobody had ever talked to her this way before. All her life, she’d grown up and accepted what she was told. “No.”
Mercy, grace, help in her time of need. Outwardly, she needed nothing. Inwardly, she needed rest, peace, and calm assurance. She touched her still-damp hair, and a generous clump of strands came loose, stuck to her hand.
“Oh, Betsy.” Aenti Chelle stood, then rounded the edge of the table to join her on the other side. “I know your soul and spirit hurt right now, and I’ll pray for you. But your hair, and this fatigue? How long has it been going on?”
“I don’t know. For a while now …” She studied her crumpled, used napkin. She felt rather crumpled herself. “Aenti Sarah gave me some Applebaum’s Energy Elixir gel tablets to take. They help a little bit. I think.”
“Huh.” Aenti Chelle reached out and touched Betsy’s hair. Betsy had a vague memory, of her mamm brushing her hair when she was young. “We need to make an appointment for you to see the doctor. And soon.”
Betsy nodded. “All right.” She’d never been to an Englisch doctor before.
“Meanwhile, let’s pray.” Aenti Chelle touched Betsy’s arm. “Heavenly Father, we come to You today on behalf of Your beloved child, Elizabeth. I ask You to grant her strength, wisdom, peace, and clarity, in matters concerning her business, her life, and her heart. Also, for this ailment, whatever it is, I ask You to help make it clear as well. Amen.”
The simple prayer touched the tender ache in Betsy’s heart, like a soothing balm poured over the places hurting the most.
“Amen.” Betsy looked up. “Thank you, Aenti Chelle.” She’d never heard anyone pray quite like this before.
*
Thaddeus pulled the wet laundry from the washing machine. Mammi allowed herself the luxury of an electric washer, but still kept a clothesline in the backyard to let the sun do the work of drying clothes.
A sunny day ahead, again. With winter trying to reach farther south, Ohio had already had its first snowfall. Not in sunny Sarasota, though, where winter would only nip and not bite.
So far, he’d been here almost a month. He’d found a tenuous peace after leaving Columbus and the state of Ohio, but the niggling feeling of someone catching up with him hadn’t left. It came when he was idle, so he tried to keep busy in the village, helping Henry when he could and his mammi as well. Thad
lugged his basket of damp clothes outside. Mammi had offered to help him with laundry, but he politely refused. There were some things your mammi could see when you were a kid, and it didn’t matter, but Thad would rather take care of things himself now.
He stopped at the clothesline. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d hung clothes outside. Maybe as a little tyke, chasing his mamm and insisting he could help and do it too.
Always running after her, he knew it had broken her heart when he ran the other direction. At the time, he didn’t have a choice. The constricting feeling of the sameness, same clothes, same hair, and the same expectations of his daed and family. It was leave or let a big part of himself die.
He still felt the ache and throb of his fingers when he’d missed his mark with a hammer swing. Yes, he’d helped Henry with Betsy’s shop, but it was different. Maybe, just maybe, he’d keep up the contracting work with Henry, if the older man needed him. He’d enjoyed the tile work, the precision of cuts and the artistry of the patterns.
But no, he couldn’t go home again. He kept pulling his clothing from the basket and clipping it to the line.
The back door banged, and Thaddeus turned. Mammi headed toward him, her face glowing. “Thaddeus.” She waved a small piece of paper. “I heard from your mamm. She told me they’ll be here soon for vacation. She and your daed both. I believe some oncles, aentis, and cousins are coming, but I haven’t heard just when.”
Great. The quiet would end. His actions when he was eighteen had turned into a double-edged sword of emotion: elation he’d found freedom to get his education and pursue a culinary dream, and yet sorrow for the damage to relationships his actions would incur. He’d stuffed the sorrow aside and embraced his new life for ten years now.
Thad clipped the last damp T-shirt to the clothesline.
His father had told him once, when Thaddeus had informed them of his graduation from culinary school and employment as a pastry assistant, all would be forgiven, should he come home and be baptized.
No, they hadn’t shunned him, not exactly. He never intended to be baptized if he didn’t intend to join the Ordnung wholeheartedly. Which was as things should be. No one should commit their lives to something as serious as an Amish Order, not if they weren’t prepared for what such a commitment meant. He didn’t know that he ever would be.
“You’re not saying anything.” Mammi stopped beside the basket. “Won’t you be happy to see your family again? Especially your mamm?”
“It’ll be nice to see some of them.” He picked up the basket. “Will they all stay here?”
They walked to the back door together. “Your parents will, and maybe one of your oncles and his family. I have plenty of room.”
Maybe he had better find another place to stay. But he didn’t say this out loud. His Mammi’s face glowed a happy shade of pink, in contrast to her white hair and head covering.
“Well, I know you’ll enjoy having a houseful again. I always looked forward to coming here when I was small.” He entered the house first, with Mammi behind him. He stopped long enough to put the empty basket on the washing machine.
“You will always have a place here, Thaddeus.”
“Thank you.”
She patted his hand. The simple gesture of affection made his eyes burn. Mammi had always accepted him, loved him, never spoke her opinion on him pursuing a life in the Englisch world.
“I must leave now,” she said. “I’m meeting the group at Edna Grabill’s for quilting and then lunch.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
Mammi left and Thad sighed. She was probably giddy inside about the family coming and ready to tell all her friends.
No matter how much he’d pulled his feet from the Amish world, it seemed as though one foot remained behind, his other foot planted in the Englisch world. What the family tried to call his Rumspringa, he called independence. This wasn’t a phase. This was him, Thaddeus Zook.
Not Amish. Not even Plain. Not blending in.
Thad left the laundry area as soon as he heard the front door close behind Mammi. Ever since he’d come to stay with her, this was the first time she’d brought up his family.
However, once they arrived, it might be fun to see some of his cousins who had children. He knew Jacob was here in the village, living with his mammi, who married Thad’s mammi’s brother-in-law. The branches of the family trees, connected and grafted by marriage, made for some curious relatives, making Jacob Thad’s second cousin by marriage.
The idea of so much family should feel suffocating, except for Pinecraft. The place gave Thaddeus a sense of refuge at the moment, reminding him of what he’d left behind, yet not pushing too hard into his own life. No one seemed to stare at his tattoo quite as much anymore.
Now the idea of his family encroaching on his little island of peace? It almost made Thad want to hop on his motorcycle again and hit the open road. But he had no idea where he would go. For now, he’d make do with the bit of foundation he still had left here. He went to the fridge for a glass of orange juice.
*
“Did you ever find it?” the voice on the phone asked Pete.
“No, I didn’t. I’ve scoured the restaurant. The employees I trust most are looking for it too. I told them I’d make it worth their while if they found what I was looking for. You should have seen them start turning over pans and digging through cabinets.”
“What did you tell them it contained?”
“Vital records for the restaurant Mitch left somewhere and I need them bad.”
“Mr. Bright wants all loose ends tied up in a nice little bow, meaning this potential problem goes away.”
“Wasn’t he happy with the election night party here, especially since he won?”
“Ecstatic. The new senator from Ohio especially liked the fois gras on crostini.”
“Good.”
“But he doesn’t want anything Mitchell did to come back and haunt you, if you get my meaning. If you think you’ve accounted for everyone, think again.”
Pete wanted to tell him Thad Zook left the state, and he was the only one unaccounted for. Thad was a nice kid, caught in the middle like him.
“I even went back and talked to everyone, asking them about Mitch and if he’d given them anything to hold for him, or if he’d acted strangely. Just like the police did. And nothin’.”
“I don’t want to hear it. No loose ends. If you know of any, tie them up.”
“I’ll let you know what I find. I—I might have to leave town for a while.”
“Mitch told us the same thing. Do you know something you’re not telling us?”
“Not exactly. Well, uh, one of the pastry chefs isn’t around here anymore. I mean, I talked to him on the phone, but I found out he moved a few weeks ago.”
“You’re just now telling me this?”
“You told me to handle it, and I am.”
“Handle it faster.”
“Got it.” He hung up the phone to give him what little upper hand he had. A man couldn’t do it all. He had a business to run, a restaurant to officially reopen, not to mention publicity and a worried staff to soothe. A new manager to hire. He wasn’t responsible for whatever Mitch had done.
Florida, it is. Ohio’s getting a little chilly, anyway.
13
Betsy’s life was an exhausted blur until she saw an Englisch nurse practitioner and had blood drawn for some lab work. Thanks to Aenti Chelle, she secured an appointment via another patient’s cancellation. Within one week, the blood work was back.
Hypothyroidism. Betsy had never heard of the word, nor did she know much about the thyroid gland and its function. Hers definitely had been underactive, the nurse’s attending physician told her, with her thyroid hormone level too high as her thyroid tried to keep up and couldn’t. He put her on a pill she had to take once a day for the rest of her life, and she’d have to go back to have her blood drawn from time to time. An ultrasound of her thyroid revealed no o
ther problems, for which she was thankful.
So while this was life-altering news, it wasn’t something completely tragic. One day her hair would grow back again. In the early morning light, she brushed her hair and was reminded of her vanity. Oh, she so loved her hair. Sometimes she wished she could be more like the Englisch girls, who did such fun things with their tresses, especially when at the beach.
However, she wanted a man to love her not just for her hair, but for more. Gideon had somehow managed to catch her eye during church meeting last Sunday. However, he kept his distance when she surrounded herself with several ladies after the meeting concluded.
Betsy twisted the length of her hair into a knot and fastened it with hairpins. She frowned. Had she done the same to poor Jacob? Continually made her presence known to him? Tried to catch his eye?
Oh yes, she had. She recalled last winter, especially after little Rebecca Miller was gravely injured after being struck by a car while crossing Bahia Vista. Jacob and his children remained in Pinecraft through early spring. Not long after Rebecca’s injury, Betsy had made her decision to stay in Florida and work for Aenti Chelle’s cleaning business. Good housekeepers in Sarasota earned a respectable wage, far more than Betsy could earn in Ohio.
Now here she was, on the receiving end of someone whose attention she didn’t want. No wonder Jacob had looked perplexed so many times last winter. No matter what she had done, short of stooping to something underhanded, nothing would change Jacob’s mind about her.
Aenti Chelle, still in her robe, appeared in her doorway. “Do you want me to drop you off at the shop? I don’t mind.”
“No, I’m going to take my bicycle. It’s light enough outside and I’ll take Winston with me. He’ll enjoy the ride.” She reached for her head covering and used the few remaining hairpins to fasten it onto her hair. In response to his name, Winston wiggled himself at the foot of her bed.
“All right.” Her aunt yawned. “I’ll head back to bed, then.”
“Thank you, anyway.” She smiled as her aunt went back into the hall. If she didn’t get a move on, Aenti Sarah would let her hear about it once she arrived at the shop.
A Path Made Plain Page 11
