Her Brother's Keeper

by Beth Wiseman

  “Let’s get you doctored up,” Hannah said as she glanced at Isaac.

  “I got it, I got it. I panicked and thought there was a fire. Is everything okay inside?”

  “Everything but the bread.” Isaac set the two loaves on the porch and looped his thumbs beneath his suspenders.

  Mary stomped her foot and grumbled under her breath as she marched across the yard, waving a hand in front of her face as smoke floated out of the kitchen window.

  “It wonders me what would make her slide down a rope like that.” Isaac shook his head.

  Hannah told him about how Mary had been trapped by a fire before. “I better go get the kitchen aired out and tend to her.”

  She turned around twice on her way to the house, and both times, Isaac was smiling and watching her. For the first time in a long time, she saw happiness in her future.

  An hour later, Charlotte and Hannah were still trying to get the smoky smell out of the house. They had every battery-operated fan they owned blowing toward a window.

  “It wonders me if we’re ever going to get this smell out of here.” Hannah lit several candles and placed them around the kitchen.

  “Scentsies,” Charlotte said without thinking.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing. Never mind.” The plug-in air fresheners that melted wax cubes needed electricity. “Potpourri.” She glanced at Hannah, who frowned. “It’s a mixture of dried flower petals and spices.”

  “Ya, I’ve heard of that. I will make some.”

  “Or just buy a bag at the Dollar Store,” Charlotte said, shrugging.

  “Well, that would be a very Englisch thing to do.” She grinned and they both looked toward the door when they heard footsteps.

  Charlotte leapt to her feet. “It was my fault,” she said to Lena when she walked into the kitchen. “I was supposed to be keeping an eye on the bread, and I went upstairs, and . . .”

  “It is a small thing, Mary. I’m going to rest. Hannah, maybe make chicken salad for lunch. And don’t forget to leave the chopped eggs on the side since Mary doesn’t like them.” She waved over her shoulder as she headed toward her bedroom.

  “Mamm, wait.” Hannah walked to where her mother was standing. “What did the doctor say? Are you with child?”

  Lena shook her head, barely smiling. “Nee, no baby. I’m just a little sick, and I need to rest.” She closed her bedroom door behind her.

  “Well, that’s gut news. I know a boppli would have been a blessing, but I would have worried about Mamm having one at her age.”

  Charlotte waited until the bedroom door shut before she spoke. “There are two loaves of burnt bread on the porch, and the whole downstairs is still smoky . . .” She paused, tipping her head to one side. “But your mother sure didn’t have much reaction about it. She must really feel bad.”

  “I know,” Hannah said softly as both she and Charlotte stared toward the bedroom door. Then Charlotte had a horrible, selfish thought. No bread today.

  “I guess I need to get cleaned up and call a driver. I’m meeting my friend for supper tonight.”

  “Ach, I remember.” Hannah sighed as she folded her hands in front of her. “Your friend is going to think we’ve treated you badly.” She nodded at Charlotte’s hands. “Where are you meeting him?”

  “In Lancaster. I think that’s about twenty minutes by car from here, right? And he will take a cab from Harrisburg.”

  “Harrisburg is a bit farther, maybe forty minutes. What restaurant?”

  “Um . . . I have it written down upstairs. Blue something. Blue . . .”

  Hannah gasped. “You’re not meeting him at Blue Pacific, are you?”

  “Yes.” Charlotte smiled. “That’s it. What’s wrong with Blue Pacific?”

  Hannah stepped closer and touched Charlotte on the arm. “You mustn’t eat there.”

  “Oh no. Is it bad?” Charlotte tried to straighten her hands a little bit more beneath the bandages, but cringed and hoped Lena had more miracle goop in the fridge.

  Hannah brought her hand to her side, raised her chin a bit, and stood taller. “Well, it is said to be one of the finest restaurants in Lancaster County, but you still don’t want to eat there.”

  Charlotte narrowed her eyebrows. “Why not? Because it’s expensive?”

  “I don’t know about that, but what I do know is . . . they don’t cook much of their food.” She shriveled her face up as her eyes grew wide.

  “Raw food? Oh, you mean they serve sushi?”

  “Nee, they serve raw fish!”

  Despite the fact that her hands burned, she laughed. “I’m really going to miss you, sweet Hannah. Sushi is a type of raw fish that’s considered a delicacy in the English world. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

  Hannah was still scowling. “Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Charlotte went upstairs to get ready. She had so much more to tell Ryan, and she’d sensed that there might be more to this date than just a friendly dinner. She was eager to find out.

  Fifteen

  On the way to meet Ryan, Charlotte pulled her makeup bag from her purse and found her compact, glad it lit up since it was starting to get dark outside. She opened her bottle of foundation, dabbed a little on her finger, then stared at herself in the mirror. It had been so long since she’d applied any makeup, she had gotten used to how she looked without it. Continuing to look at herself, she realized she wasn’t the same person as when she’d left, and she closed the compact, wiped the liquid that was on her finger on a tissue, then stuffed everything back in her purse.

  “I’m pretty sure you are the first Amish woman I’ve taken to the Blue Pacific. Is this a special occasion?” The driver was someone that Hannah’s family used often, and Hannah had already told Charlotte that she was a chatty woman about Lena’s age.

  “I guess it’s sort of a special occasion. A friend is visiting the area, and we’re meeting for din—supper.”

  The woman nodded, and Charlotte was thinking that it was probably a good thing she didn’t walk into the restaurant in Amish clothes, full makeup, and her hair hung loose and curled. She’d decided to keep her curls under her prayer covering, which somewhere along the line had taken on a new meaning—her kapp. She wondered how Ryan would react to her new Amish look. She’d already warned him about how she’d be dressed.

  “They have great food there,” the woman said. “They’re known for their sushi, but they also have eclectic choices on the menu, and—” She glanced over her shoulder. “Do you know what that means, hon? Eclectic?”

  Charlotte was taken aback, but remembered that the Amish didn’t get as much education as most people, so she stayed in character when she responded. “Ya, I do. I’m looking forward to eating there. I’m from Texas.”

  “I thought I heard a bit of a Southern accent in your voice. What brings you to Lancaster County? Family? They don’t have a lot of Amish in Texas, do they?”

  Charlotte wished she could just clamp her lips closed and not answer, and she was searching for a way to answer this woman truthfully. She was never going to tell another lie when she left this place.

  “I’m just visiting for a while, and no, there aren’t many Amish communities in Texas.” Ah, the truth.

  From that moment on, the woman—Mindy—did most of the talking. Charlotte answered politely when the conversation called for it, but her stomach was churning, and not from hunger. She glanced at her bandaged hands. She’d let go of the rope about halfway down, when the pain had become too much to bear. She had a bruise on her hip from where she landed, but it could have been a lot worse, for her hands and her hip.

  When the woman pulled up in front of the Blue Pacific, Charlotte paid her, looked at her cell phone, and realized she was a few minutes late, so she hurried to the door.

  “I’m meeting someone,” she said to the hostess as she propped her black purse up on her shoulder, then put a hand across her stomach, hoping it would settle down. “His
name is Ryan Hanemann,” she added.

  “Yes. He’s here. Please follow me.”

  Charlotte followed the woman through what felt like a maze, and once they got to the very back of the restaurant, she saw Ryan stand up. It took every ounce of restraint she had not to run into his arms, and she certainly hadn’t expected to tear up when she saw him, but her emotions lived permanently on her sleeve these days.

  “You make a beautiful Amish woman.” He eased his arms around her and kissed her on the forehead, and she held on to him tightly for a few seconds before easing away. Ryan pulled out her chair, then moved to the other side of the small table.

  “Danki, sir,” she said as she slid into the chair, unable to keep her heart from dancing even though she was still fighting tears. “I’m so happy to see you. I hate that it has to be like this.”

  Ignoring her nod at her attire, Ryan reached over and gently grabbed her wrists, turning her palms faceup. “Still hurting?”

  She nodded. “They were getting better until I slid on a rope out of my window, like an idiot.”

  His touch was gentle as he rubbed his thumb along the top of her bandaged hands. “This is a good look for Charlotte Dolinsky.” He winked at her. “Minus the bandages.”

  “Wow, I haven’t heard my first and last name in a really long time.”

  He leaned back against the chair. “You look different. And I don’t mean because you’re wearing Amish clothes or that you don’t have on any makeup. But you look different, in a good way. And I like the new hair color I see peeking out from beneath your prayer covering.”

  “Well, I was thinking of dressing this way from now on,” she said, grinning. “And I told you what happened with my hair.” She paused. “But maybe I’ll keep this color.”

  Ryan continued to study her for a few moments until the waitress walked up to take their order. After the woman left, Ryan refocused his gaze on Charlotte. “No, I’m serious. You’re very pretty.”

  Charlotte could feel her cheeks turning pink. “I’m fatter.” She smiled broadly.

  Ryan’s gray-blue eyes twinkled in the dimly lit space, a single candle burning between them. “No, that’s not it. You’ve always been a gorgeous woman, but you have a glow now.”

  Charlotte was still basking in the compliment when Ryan went on.

  “You look . . . happy.”

  Charlotte took a sip from her glass of water that was already on the table when she arrived. “You know, I expected not to like Hannah or any of them. But they are the closest thing to family I’ve ever had. Except for Ethan, of course.”

  “I hope you’ll be able to stay in touch with them after you leave.” Ryan loosened the knot in a grayish-blue tie that matched his eyes. “Do you think Ethan killed himself because he felt guilty about having an affair with Edna?”

  “I think there’s only one person who might be able to answer that question. And that’s really the last piece of the puzzle. Then I’ll know.” She shrugged, sighing. “And then I’ll go home. I still think that I will wait and write a long letter explaining everything once I’m back in Texas.”

  They were quiet while the waitress placed their appetizer on the table. “This trip has never been about Ethan.” Ryan reached for a pot sticker from the plate between them. Charlotte took one of the fried chicken dumplings as she waited for Ryan to explain. “You always said that you felt unsettled because you didn’t know why Ethan killed himself. You said you couldn’t move forward. Am I right?”

  “Right.” Charlotte glanced around the table for a dipping sauce but she didn’t see one.

  “Charlotte, you’re never going to know for sure what demons Ethan was carrying around to make him take his own life. Maybe it was guilt. Or something else. And I admit that I wanted answers too. But I don’t think that I realized until this moment that these past few weeks have really been about you.” He smiled. “You found your family.”

  Charlotte finished chewing her bite. “Wait, wait. I love those people. I really do. But they might not even speak to me after they learn the truth. I found out what having a family feels like, but I don’t get to keep them as my own.”

  Ryan tipped his head to the side. “Charlotte . . . you did find your family. You found your Father, and in Him, you’ve found your family and the missing piece of yourself that always left you feeling unsettled.” He reached over and touched her hand again. “So many times, we step onto a path with our own intentions guiding the way, but even if we are being led by God, many times the destination is by His design, not ours.”

  Charlotte picked up her napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “I really am happy!” She gently pressed her bandaged palms against the table, half laughing, half crying.

  “I’m happy for you. And I’m happy to be here with you.”

  Finally. Is this my shot at happiness, God?

  Isaac dropped his dirty boots by the front door when he got home from work since he’d managed to step in a puddle where the garden hose was leaking, leaving a muddy mess. One more thing to fix around here.

  “Wie bischt?” His mother met him near the door. “Where’s your daed?”

  Isaac hung his hat on the rack by the door. “Daed insisted that we supervise the inventory this year, so he’s still at the store with Phyllis and Tom. I came home so I can tend to the animals before it gets too late. Tom said he’ll bring Daed home later.” He shook his head as he made his way to the kitchen for something to drink. His mother was on his heels. “Phyllis and Tom have always done a fine job, so it wonders me why Daed thinks they need our help this year.”

  “Probably the same reason he wants to cut me into firewood.”

  Isaac closed the refrigerator after he found the iced tea and spun around to face his mother, glowering. “Mamm, that’s not funny.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, but her shoulders bounced a little as she stifled her giggle. “I know,” she finally said. “But I talked to your daed’s doctor today and told him what was going on, that your father had been so mean . . . and saying crazy things. He does think there could be a problem with his medications, and he is calling in some adjusted prescriptions for two of them. So, hopefully he will stop wanting to turn me into firewood.” She giggled this time.

  Isaac shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile, feeling hopeful about this new information. “I hope that’s the problem.”

  “Me too. Please thank your friend, Mary, for forwarding that suggestion.”

  Isaac took several swigs of tea before he lifted the lid from a simmering pot on the oven. Pork roast. He took a deep breath, savoring the aroma. “Ya, I will.” He put the lid back, leaving it cracked like his mother had. “I’m going to feed the animals.”

  “So . . . will you be having any more picnics with Mary?” His mother leaned against the kitchen counter and smiled.

  “Nee.” He turned to go, but she called his name. He knew where this conversation was going.

  “She seems very nice. Why not?”

  “Mary doesn’t even live here. You know that. Eventually, she will go back to Texas. We’re just friends.”

  His mother sighed. “Well, I believe her to be an angel sent from God. She was at least able to get you out on a real date. Do you think you’ll stay in touch with her?”

  Isaac glanced out the window into the darkness, then back at his mother. “I don’t know, Mamm, but I need to tend to the critters.”

  “Isaac.” She walked up to him and put a hand on his arm. “When your father was first sick, I admit that I needed your help that first year. But despite his leg, your father is able to take care of himself now. You can’t base your future on us. Do you hear me? If you don’t get that daadi haus livable, I’m going to hire someone. Someone Englisch.” She grinned as she slapped him playfully on the arm. “So. Unless you want an Englisch carpenter underfoot for weeks, you best make that a priority.”

  “Mamm, you don’t know if it’s Daed’s meds making him all loopy in the head. What if it’s
not?” Isaac thought about Ethan and his depression. He didn’t want his daed struggling with the same thing.

  “Sweet boy.” She shook her head. “Even if it isn’t, we will get it figured out.” A smiled filled her face. “Unless he turns me into firewood.” She bent over laughing, then looked up at Isaac, who was too stunned to move. “Chop, chop!” she said. Then she laughed so hard that Isaac couldn’t help but laugh with her.

  Finally, he gathered himself. “It really isn’t funny, Mamm.”

  “Of course it is,” she said as she pulled a tissue from her apron pocket. “Your father and I have been married for thirty-four years. We squabble. And he’s gotten lazy the past year. But he’d never hurt me. And I plan to keep pushing him to do more for himself.” She poked him in the arm. “So, you best get out there and find yourself a fraa before you are an old man.”

  Isaac knew who he wanted to marry, but he just nodded and went outside. He was going to stay close to his mother until he knew for certain his father wasn’t losing his mind. And he wasn’t going to ask out Hannah until Mary went back to Texas, out of respect.

  Charlotte lined out all the sushi she’d brought home for everyone to try, glad she’d gotten home before everyone went to bed. She was still basking in the aftermath of the most wonderful date she’d ever had. There was no good-night kiss, only a hug, but she could feel something happening between them. And he’d graciously offered to buy extra sushi when Charlotte had shared with him what Hannah said.

  “There.” She pointed to four plates she’d put the sushi on. “Try some of each.” She smiled at Amos, Lena, Jacob, and Hannah who were all lined up in the kitchen. But no one was moving.

  Amos folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “That is fish that is not cooked?”

  Charlotte picked up a slice with her fingers. “Yes. And it’s very good. Try this one.” She offered it to Amos on a napkin. “It’s caterpillar maki.”