by Amy Lillard
“It always is.”
“How did you make your decision?”
She hadn’t. The decision had been made for her. Or had she allowed the actions of others to force her decision? “I don’t know. And I can’t say I made the right one.” There. She had said it.
“Are you saying you wish you hadn’t left?”
She shook her head, unable to lie to her sister. “I don’t regret leaving.” There was an entire world out there that she had wanted to see—television, movies, driving cars. But once that time was up, she had wanted to come back to her life in Pontotoc. The problem was, that life hadn’t waited for her. That life had continued on as if she had never been. “I can’t regret leaving. It’s made me who I am today.” She was a much stronger person than the girl who had left Pontotoc all those years ago.
Tillie nodded. “I get it. But . . .” She stopped nodding and shook her head, her confusion evident.
“But what?”
“I think Melvin wants to leave.”
Just as Hannah had thought. “And?”
“That’s what’s making it so hard. I mean, you made that decision all on your own.”
She had.
“But I’m trying to make it knowing that Melvin feels there’s more opportunities for us in the Englisch world.”
“What about family?” That had been the hardest for her to accept, being away from her family. She wasn’t shunned, not technically, but it wasn’t like she could come back to Pontotoc whenever she wanted. For a while she’d had Leah, but their differences and the stress of leaving had taken its toll. Before long they were disagreeing regularly. Then they were hardly speaking, and Hannah was all alone.
Maybe that was why she had fallen so hard for Mitch. Or she thought she had. He was good-looking, smart, funny, and so sophisticated. There had been a time when he had found her innocence of the ways of the world charming, but after a while she could tell it bothered him. She could tell that she embarrassed him, and then he started going places without her. Pretty soon, they were living different lives. But by then she had Brandon to think about.
“Just be careful,” Hannah warned. “There’s more out there than you know.” She looked around at the camaraderie that existed so well in their community. People helping each other wasn’t a phenomenon in the Amish world; it was a way of life. And one thing she had learned in all her time with the Englisch, there was no substitute for family.
“I will,” Tillie promised. “I will.”
* * *
Aaron chuckled as his girls ran through the field chasing after the kickball. They laughed and carried on and made him realize that all too often they had to be more grown-up than should be necessary. If Lizzie were still alive, he knew they would have more times like this.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Everyone stopped as Eunice rang the triangle.
“Attention, please. It’s time for Brandon to open his presents.”
“What about the cake?” someone yelled.
“That too,” Eunice returned. “But nothing’s happening until everyone gets up here to sing him ‘Happy Birthday.’”
Games were abandoned and seats vacated as the guests crowded around to sing Brandon his birthday song.
Aaron had never paid a great deal of attention to Hannah’s son, but he took the time now to study the boy’s features. Aaron had never met the boy’s father, but as far as he could tell, there wasn’t a thing of the man in the son. Brandon was the spittin’ image of his mother. Same chestnut-colored hair, same hazel eyes. He had the same dimple in his chin and the same nose that turned up just a little on the end. He smiled up at his mother as she pushed the cake in front of him, candles glowing. He even had the same grin.
Everyone began to sing, and Aaron joined in. As the sound of the last word trailed off, Brandon blew out his candles while everyone cheered.
“Is that all the cake?” Caleb Gingerich, Brandon’s cousin, asked.
Everyone laughed. True, the small round cake wouldn’t be enough to feed even a quarter of the people there.
“Never fear,” Eunice said. She moved another cake, a sheet cake, in front of Brandon. This one had no candles. On the top, someone had written Happy 15th Birthday, Brandon.
Hannah’s son was turning fifteen. Aaron had never thought about it much. Didn’t know she had a boy until she had returned home. But if Brandon was turning fifteen . . .
He did some quick calculations in his head, but didn’t like the answers he came up with.
Hannah’s son was turning fifteen. Which meant he had been conceived roughly nine months before. That would have been somewhere around November, almost sixteen years ago. And that would mean—
His thoughts came to a screeching halt. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. He didn’t want it to be. Because if it was . . .
He figured the months in his head, calculated and recalculated. It would have been harder if he didn’t remember the exact date when Hannah had left, but that day was forever etched into his brain. He knew it as well as he knew his own birthday.
He turned his attention back to the party, but the ringing in his ears prevented him from hearing what was being said. Brandon smiled up at his mother. She squeezed his shoulder, her pride evident. In the last week or so, the lip earring had disappeared. The boy’s hair was too long by Englisch standards, but it was about right for Amish.
But he’s not Amish.
Yet he should be.
The ringing in his ears intensified.
He didn’t know for certain. He could be adding incorrectly. Or maybe he was seeing things that weren’t really there.
He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself, but his hands trembled. He wiped shaky fingers across his face.
Brandon laughed and cocked his head to one side as he listened to someone beside him. For Aaron it was like looking in a mirror. He had never seen himself make that move, but he knew what it felt like. It was his own gesture mirror-imaged back at him. There was no denying it.
Without thinking, he pushed his way toward the crowd until he was standing just behind Hannah. He wrapped his fingers around her arm. She jumped, not expecting his touch.
He bent his head to whisper in her ear. “I need to talk to you. Now.”
She started to shake her head, but he tightened his fingers around her arm. She jerked her gaze to him, alarm flaring in her eyes.
She nodded. If she spoke, he couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears.
He nodded toward the barn, but didn’t let go of her arm as he marched her toward the open doors. This was as good a time as any. Everyone would be too busy with cake to notice if they disappeared for a spell. Though no matter how long they talked, Aaron wasn’t sure he would ever feel like himself again.
What is it? she asked. He read her lips instead of hearing her words. He swallowed hard, hoping to clear his hearing.
But he didn’t reply as he escorted her into the dim interior of the barn.
“Aaron?” This time her voice penetrated his stunned senses. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and set his resolve. “Just when were you going to tell me that Brandon is my son?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Aaron watched as if in a dream. Hannah opened her mouth to speak, maybe even explain, then she closed it again with a shake of her head.
He shifted in place and waited for her to gather her thoughts. But deep inside he was afraid she was making up some wild story.
How could he believe anything else? Today she was back to being that Hannah, the one in the Englisch clothes who tossed her hair over her shoulder and had shiny lips.
He wanted to believe that Yesterday’s Hannah was still in there somewhere, but he was certain he just didn’t want to see the truth.
“Well?”
She clasped her fingers in front of her as if she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her own hands. “I . . . I don’t know.”
“Never?” Somehow he
managed to keep his tone at a normal level. God was definitely looking out for him, helping him keep his composure when he wanted to tear at his hair until it all became clear.
“It’s not like that.”
He shifted once again, realizing then that it was more to keep him in place than anything else. He was an Amish man, committed to a peaceful life, turning the other cheek and all that it entailed. But right now, he didn’t trust himself to be close to her. Too many emotions were flying through him, emotions he was struggling to control.
“Then tell me.” His insides quaked as he waited once again for her answer. His hands trembled, and he couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs.
“I was going to. Tell you.” She shook her head as if she didn’t like her own answer. Well, that made two of them.
He shifted once again. Outside the barn, the party guests had resumed their game playing. Shouts and laughter drifted in to them, teasing him with their joy. It wouldn’t be long before someone missed them and came looking. “I’m waiting.”
She sucked in a deep breath, then expelled it slowly. Or maybe he was just weary. “I was going to tell you when I found out. But for some reason I wrote to my brother first. He told me how you were going around with Lizzie Yoder, and I . . . Well, I figured you wouldn’t care.”
“I wouldn’t . . . care?” Was she serious?
“I was eighteen.”
“And pregnant with my baby.” He shook his head. Never in his life had he had a conversation about such personal matters. But one thing was certain; they could go on like this indefinitely. And it was getting them nowhere.
“Aaron, I—”
“Does he know?”
“No.”
“I want to spend some time with him. I want him to know.”
“No!” The one word echoed in the rafters over their heads. “No,” she repeated, softer this time. “No.”
“Why not?” Aaron used every ounce of self-control to keep his tone from matching hers.
“He’s been through so much this year. I can’t lay that at his feet right now.”
That made no sense. Jah. It would be hard for Brandon to understand, but certainly a living father would more than make up for it.
An Amish father.
“We can spend time together. I want to get to know him.” Brandon was his son, and Aaron didn’t know the most basic things about him. His favorite color, his favorite food. What did he do in his spare time? Did he like to read? Had Hannah taken him to church?
She seemed more than reluctant. “I—I guess. I mean, what are you going to tell him?”
He had no idea, but he would think of something. “Does that mean you’ll let—won’t try to keep me from seeing him?”
She swallowed hard and shook her head. “Just promise me you won’t tell him about . . . about your relationship. That’s something that should come from me. When the time is right.”
But she never told him when that might be.
* * *
“You seem distracted.”
Hannah jerked her gaze up to meet her sister’s. Leah hovered next to the porch swing. How long had she been standing there before she spoke? How long had Hannah stared off at nothing while Leah waited for her to acknowledge her presence? “No . . . maybe . . .” She stopped pushing the swing with her heels and allowed her sister to sit next to her.
“You want to talk about it?” Leah asked.
Hannah sighed. Did she? “There’s nothing to talk about.” She started the swing again.
“I love you. But I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Would you believe that it’s nothing that I want to talk about?”
Leah flashed her a sad, understanding smile. “Aren’t those the things we need to talk about the most?”
Hannah nodded. But the secret she had held for so long was jammed in her throat, refusing to budge. How could she tell her sister that she’d held this secret from her for nearly sixteen years? She hadn’t told a soul. Leah had looked so hurt when she found out that Hannah had returned to Mississippi without telling her. How would she handle a secret like this? She didn’t want to see the pain in Leah’s eyes. They were twins, but their bond had been broken so long ago. Yet Hannah could feel Leah’s pull, that sisterly magic that could only exist between two people who were born into this world together.
If Leah is going to be upset, how will Brandon handle the news?
Not good. Not good at all.
Was Hannah cursed to forever hurt those she loved?
“Aaron figured out that he’s Brandon’s father.”
Leah stopped the swing with a jerk. “What?”
“Aaron is Brandon’s father.”
“I heard you.” Leah shook her head. “I just wasn’t sure I heard you right. I mean—” She sputtered to a stop. “You never told me that.” Pain shone in her eyes.
“There was never a chance.”
Leah shook her head and turned in the swing to stare at her, lips parted. “He’s fifteen! You’re telling me that there wasn’t one time in all those years that you could have called me up and said, ‘Hey, sis. Been meaning to tell you something’?”
“Really? You think it would be that easy?”
Leah’s breath left her in an audible whoosh. “No, I suppose not, but . . .”
“But what?”
It took her so long to answer that Hannah wondered if she would respond at all. “I wish I knew. Maybe I could have—” Leah stopped again.
She didn’t need to finish for Hannah to fill in the blanks. Maybe she could have helped Hannah. Maybe Hannah wouldn’t have married Mitch. Maybe she would have come back. Maybe a lot of things would be different.
“It happened the way God wanted it to.” The words should have felt foreign on her lips, but they came as naturally to her as they had all those years ago. There had been a time when she had believed in God’s will. When she had believed that God had a plan in her life. But the more questions that stirred in her thoughts, the more that she felt God had somehow abandoned her. Or maybe He was letting her make her own way. If that was the case, she had fouled it up nicely. Maybe God having a plan wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
“Do you really believe that?”
Hannah nodded, amazed at her own thoughts. “As a matter of fact, I do.” A surprising weight lifted from her shoulders. Was she back in God’s plan? Had she ever truly been gone? Suddenly her time in Mississippi seemed less like a last resort and more like the next step.
They fell silent for a moment, each lost in her own thoughts.
“I’m sorry about Mitch.”
Hannah shook her head. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I never had the chance.”
“Then I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Leah quietly studied her in the dark. “How so?”
“I should have never chosen him over you.”
“I never should have made you choose.”
Hannah tilted her head to one side, their differences from so long ago crowded around them. “I should have told you that I had gotten a letter from Jim.”
Leah shook her head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
And they were right back to God’s plan and the night Leah had tried to talk Hannah into going back to Pontotoc. She had been thinking about going back for weeks, then she got the letter from Jim. And on the same day she discovered that she was pregnant. Leah wanted to leave, Aaron wanted Lizzie, and Hannah had no one to want her. Except Mitch McLean. She didn’t choose Mitch over Leah. She chose her pride over them both.
“What do we do now?” Leah asked.
Hannah smiled and shook her head. “This isn’t your problem.”
“I should have made it my problem sixteen years ago. Seems like I have a lot of making up to do.”
A chuckle escaped Hannah, then a sob. Leah pulled her close, pressing Hannah’s head to her shoulder. Being held by her sister was like stepping back in time. All the trou
ble, all the hard feelings, all the mistakes just melted away. The next sob caught in her throat, but her own will mixed with Leah’s strength gave her more courage than she ever knew she could have. She gave her sister one last squeeze, then lifted her head.
“I have my own share of making up.”
Leah smiled and brushed two errant tears from Hannah’s cheeks. “I tell you what. Why don’t we call it even and let’s just start again?”
“A do-over?”
“If you want to call it that.”
“I’d like that.” And just like that she got her sister back. Really and truly back. Tears filled her eyes once again, but these were happy tears.
“Don’t cry,” Leah admonished. “If you cry, then I’ll want to cry. And I don’t want to cry.”
“I’m trying not to.” But she was just so happy.
They took a minute to get themselves together.
“Now what?” Leah asked.
Hannah knew exactly what she meant. What was she going to do about Aaron? “I can’t tell Brandon yet.”
Leah nodded. “I understand. But you’ll have to tell him eventually.”
“I just want to give him a little more time,” Hannah explained.
“Does he need more time? Or is it you?”
* * *
Leah’s words echoed through Hannah’s thoughts for the rest of the evening. Brandon had enthusiastically gone off to Joshua’s for the night, allowing Leah and Hannah to have the sewing room beds. It had been so long since Hannah had shared a room with her sister that even the thought brought back more memories than she could count. They had been inseparable growing up, right until the time Hannah became interested in Aaron. Or rather, Aaron became interested in her. Neither one was baptized and therefore they couldn’t officially date, but they had done more than their fair share of sneaking around.
Which is exactly how you found yourself where you are now.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Leah’s voice drifted through the darkness.
“I’m glad you’re here too.”
“You’re supposed to say ‘me too.’”
But was she really glad that she was there? Every facet of the situation seemed at direct odds with the others. She was glad that she had come home for a time. But she was sad that her husband had to cheat and die before she did so. She was glad to see her family, but sad that Brandon had lost the only family he had ever known. She was glad that her sister was just across the room, but sad that Aaron had discovered her secret. Glad that for a time she and Aaron had almost had a second chance. Sad that he would never trust her again.
