by Amy Clipston
“Well, maybe they’ll inspire you to pursue higher education.”
“Jessica, we’ve been through this,” Lindsay snapped through clenched teeth.
“I know, but it’s my job to look out for you. I still think you should get your GED while you’re there,” Jessica said. “You should check out the city schools’ website and see if you can—”
“Can you please drop this?”
“I think you should do it, Linds,” Jessica continued. “You’re so smart, and you could be anything. You should get that GED so you can get a job outside of the bakery if you decide you want to. Education leads to choices. Remember, Dad used to say that all the time?”
“Yeah,” Lindsay said, defeated. “I do remember that.”
“You should seriously think about it,” Jessica said. “I don’t think it costs much, and I can send you money if you need it. I’d be happy to help you pay for it. I know that there’s money put away for us, but I always have at least some money. I mean, I’ve been working overtime for weeks now.”
“Fine,” Lindsay said, cupping her hand to her temple. “I’ll look into it.”
“Awesome!” Jessica said. “Oh, hang on a minute.” Muffled noises sounded in the background, and Lindsay imagined her sister sitting in a plush office while talking to an important man wearing an expensive suit. “Listen, I gotta go. Would you please give Aunt Trisha and Uncle Frank my love and tell them that I’ll call soon? I want to talk to Aunt Trisha, but I have to run for a meeting.”
Lindsay glanced at the clock. “Jess, it’s after six. What on earth are you still doing at work?”
“I told you,” Jessica began, “I’m working on an important project. Look, I gotta run. Talk to you soon. Love you!”
“Love you,” Lindsay said. “Bye.”
She pushed the button to end the call and then stared at the receiver, wondering when her sister would stop trying to run her life. She grabbed a rubber band from her dresser and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail while she contemplated her sister. Would Jessica ever stop focusing on Lindsay and just worry about herself? Or was it Jessica’s intent to fill in for their mother and give Lindsay unsolicited advice for the rest of her life?
The question was still floating through Lindsay’s mind when she stepped into the kitchen, where Frank and Trisha sat finishing their meatloaf. Trying in vain to stop the scowl on her lips, Lindsay sank into her chair.
“We had a visit from one of our neighbors while you were on the phone,” Trisha said with a smile.
“Oh?” Lindsay asked as she grabbed the bowl of mixed vegetables and scooped a small pile onto her plate. “Which neighbor?”
“Mrs. Morton,” Frank said, rolling his eyes. “She’s the busybody on our street.”
Trisha shook a finger at him. “That’s not nice.” She then looked at Lindsay. “Did you make a clothesline and hang out our laundry today?”
“Yes,” Lindsay said. “I love the smell of the clothes after they dry outside, so I did it as a surprise for you. I wasn’t going to tell you. I was hoping you would notice when you wore your clean clothes.” She looked between Trisha and Frank, wondering why they were smiling. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no.” Trisha touched Lindsay’s hand. “We think it’s wonderful that you did that for us, but our neighbors, well, they don’t exactly agree with some of our ideas.”
Lindsay studied their expressions. “I don’t understand.”
“Lindsay,” Frank began, “I don’t know how else to explain it except to say that Mrs. Morton is a snob. She didn’t like the clothesline. She said it, well, brought down the view.”
“Brought down the view?” Lindsay asked. “You mean like it somehow cheapened the pretty houses out here?”
“Exactly,” Frank said with a nod.
“We don’t agree with her,” Trisha quickly chimed in. “I told her that. I also said that it doesn’t make sense since she hangs her towels over her deck. She insisted that towels are acceptable, but other laundry isn’t.”
“It’s ridiculous,” Frank said. “But we have to agree with her in order to keep the peace. We don’t need any problems with the housing association.”
“Oh,” Lindsay said. “I won’t hang the laundry outside anymore.”
“But thank you for your efforts,” Trisha added as she cut up a piece of meatloaf on her plate. “The house looks beautiful. You’ve worked so hard for us. Thank you.”
“We want to pay you an allowance,” Frank said after wiping his mouth. “You’ve been working so hard already, and we appreciate it so much. You need some spending money so you can have some fun while you’re here.”
“That’s not necessary,” Lindsay said, scooping up the vegetables with her spoon.
“Yes, it is,” Trisha said between bites of meatloaf. “I insist.”
“So, how was your phone call?” Frank asked. “How’s your sister?”
“The same as usual,” Lindsay muttered.
“Your tone makes it sound as if it didn’t go well,” Trisha said. “What happened?”
“My sister is determined to run my life,” Lindsay said while shaking her head with frustration. “Every time I talk to her, she lectures me on what I should be doing and makes little sarcastic comments about my domestic skills and plain clothes. She thinks I’m wasting my life.”
Trisha glanced at Frank. “Do you have something important that you need to do in another room? Like maybe go for a run on the beach or something?”
“Yes, I do need to go for a run since I haven’t had a chance to run since your accident.” Frank pushed his chair back and took his dish and utensils to the counter. He then stepped over to the table and touched Lindsay’s shoulder. “I’m going to leave you two ladies to talk. Lindsay, you shouldn’t let your sister upset you. What’s right for her isn’t necessarily right for you. You’re both wonderful young ladies with bright futures.” He gave her shoulder a light squeeze and then kissed Trisha’s head before disappearing into the den.
“He’s right,” Trisha said with a gentle smile. “Don’t let Jessica make you feel bad about your decisions.”
Lindsay dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Earlier you said that my mom would be proud of me. Did you mean that?”
Reaching across the table, Trisha took Lindsay’s hands in hers. “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Because I didn’t finish high school or move to a big city. I’ve chosen to stay in the Amish community.”
Trisha shook her head. “Honey, your mom and dad wanted you and Jessica to live with your aunt Rebecca. Doesn’t that give you the answer you need? If your mom didn’t want you to be in that community, why would she have chosen your aunt to be your guardian?”
Lindsay paused as the words soaked through her mind. “That makes sense. Jessica keeps bugging me about getting my GED. Do you think I should look into that while I’m staying here with you?”
Trisha shrugged. “That’s not a bad idea, but it should be your choice.”
“I know, but I’m not sure what I want,” Lindsay said.
Trisha patted Lindsay’s hands. “You should give yourself time. You don’t have to make a choice right now, and you don’t have to do what Jessica says. She means well, but you are the only one who can decide what’s best for you.” She gestured toward Lindsay’s plate. “You need to eat your delicious meal.”
Lifting her fork, Lindsay glanced down at her plate and her half-eaten piece of meatloaf. She suddenly wasn’t hungry, and she instead moved the food around on the plate.
“I think Jessica feels like she has to take care of me since Mom and Dad are gone,” Lindsay said. “I miss our parents too, but they are the only ones who have the right to tell me what to do. Of course, I guess Aunt Rebecca and Uncle Daniel do too, since I live in their house.”
“Yes, I agree that Rebecca and Daniel can have input into your life, but you’re a young lady now. I can’t imagine Rebecca giving you orders or telli
ng you how to live your life. She doesn’t seem like that type of person.” Trisha tapped the table for emphasis. “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Give it some time and think about how you see yourself in five years. Follow that plan and see where it takes you.”
Lindsay speared a piece of carrot with her fork. “That makes sense. But I can’t stop thinking that maybe getting my GED is a good idea. I could study while I’m not helping you.”
“You could, but would it create problems for you if you return to the Amish community with a GED?” Trisha asked.
Lindsay shook her head. “No. I haven’t joined the church yet, so I can get my GED without upsetting the bishop.”
Trisha shrugged. “Then maybe you should think about it.”
Swallowing the carrot, Lindsay nodded. “Okay.”
“You should call your aunt too,” Trisha said. “I bet she’s thinking of you.”
“I will,” Lindsay said, lifting the phone from the table. “I left her a message yesterday telling her that I arrived safely, but I bet she is thinking of me. I’ll call her again.”
Rebecca hugged her arms to her chest as she crossed the rock driveway and headed toward the phone shanty. She’d been thinking of Lindsay all day long. She hoped Lindsay was doing well and enjoying her time with Trisha and Frank. However, she also hoped that Lindsay wasn’t enjoying it too much. Although she knew it was selfish, she wanted Lindsay to miss Lancaster County enough to want to come back, join the church, and stay for good.
However, Rebecca knew that wasn’t her decision to make; it was between Lindsay and God.
Stepping into the phone shanty, Rebecca sank into the chair in front of the small desk, picked up the receiver, and smiled when she heard the beeping dial tone, indicating that there was at least one message waiting for her. She dialed the voicemail and punched in the code, and a computer voice told her that she had two messages.
The first was from Elizabeth, asking how Rebecca was doing and offering to come by to visit over the weekend to give Rebecca a hand with the children. Rebecca smiled. She was so blessed to have Elizabeth for a mother-in-law. She would tell Elizabeth their exciting news about the new baby in person the next time she had the opportunity to talk to Elizabeth alone. She couldn’t bear to keep it a secret from her any longer. She deleted the message and then held her breath, hoping the next one would be from Lindsay.
When Lindsay’s sweet voice rang through the phone, Rebecca blew out a deep sigh. She hung on every word while her niece’s voice spoke.
“Aenti Rebecca,” Lindsay began. “Wie geht’s? I hope you, Onkel Daniel, Emma, and Junior are doing well. I think of you all constantly. I’m doing fine here. Today I did some cleaning and laundry.” She snickered a little. “I wish you could’ve seen me trying to figure out the washing machine. It’s quite different from the wringer washer at home, but I conquered it without a mess.”
Rebecca smiled when she heard Lindsay say “home.” She was thankful Lindsay still considered Lancaster County her home.
“Tonight I made your famous meatloaf for supper,” Lindsay continued, “and Uncle Frank and Aunt Trisha loved it. I had to improvise a little bit, but it turned out well. Aunt Trisha and Uncle Frank were both impressed. You taught me well.” Lindsay gave a little laugh again. “Aunt Trisha is doing okay. She has some discomfort, but it seems manageable with the pain pills.”
Lindsay paused, and Rebecca fiddled with the phone cord, absently wrapping it around her finger while she waited for her to continue.
“I miss you,” Lindsay said. “I’m praying that you’re feeling well. You can give me a call anytime. We have a phone in the house, of course. If I’m not here, please leave me a message and I’ll call you right back.” She rattled off the phone number, and Rebecca wrote it down on the notepad she kept by the phone. “I love you,” Lindsay said. “Bye.”
The line went dead and Rebecca sucked in a breath, hoping she wouldn’t cry. Her eyes welled with tears, and she felt silly. She knew her niece was doing well and was safe. Rebecca also realized that she was overly emotional these days due to the pregnancy. She ripped off the piece of paper with Trisha’s phone number and stuck it in her apron pocket.
The clip-clop of approaching hooves drew her attention to the rock driveway. Rebecca sniffed and touched her prayer covering, making sure she was presentable before stepping out into the setting sun.
A buggy stopped in front of the barn, and the door opened, revealing Katie climbing from the driver seat and Lizzie Anne exiting the passenger side.
“Wie geht’s,” Katie called with a wave. “We thought we’d stop by to see you.”
“It’s so gut to see you.” Rebecca gestured for them to follow her into the kitchen. “Kumm. We’ll sit and talk.”
The girls followed Rebecca into the kitchen, where she brought out a plate of cookies, a pitcher of meadow tea, and three glasses.
“Where are my little cousins?” Katie asked as she poured a glass of tea.
“They were cranky and went to bed early,” Rebecca said, sinking down into a chair across from her. “What are you two doing out so late?”
Lizzie Anne and Katie exchanged looks.
“The truth is,” Lizzie Anne began with a frown, “we’ve been worried about Lindsay. I was so upset that she didn’t come by and say good-bye to me, and I’ve been wondering how she is.”
“Have you heard from her?” Katie interjected.
Rebecca poured herself a glass of tea. “She’s left me a couple of messages …”
“And …?” Lizzie Anne asked.
“She said she’s doing fine, but she misses home.” Rebecca suppressed a smile as she said the word out loud. “She left her phone number and asked that I call her.”
Lizzie Anne’s expression brightened. “Can we call her?”
“Now?” Rebecca asked.
“Ya,” Lizzie Anne said with a nod. “I’d love to tell her that I missed saying good-bye to her.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I wanted to give her a few days to get settled in. I’d hate for her to cry because she’s homesick, you know?”
Katie’s lips formed a thin line. “I agree. She seemed sad about leaving, and it would be terrible to make her feel worse.”
Lizzie Anne sighed. “You’re right, but I miss her so much.”
“I do too.” Rebecca pushed back her chair and crossed to the counter, where she pulled her address book from a drawer. “I don’t see any problem with writing letters to her.” She returned to the table with her address book, a notepad, and a pen. “I’ll give you her address and phone number, and you can contact her. I don’t think we should call her for a few days, though. No need to upset her.” She wrote out the address and phone number twice and then handed the pieces of paper to the girls.
“Danki,” Lizzie Anne said, looking at the address.
Katie seemed to study Rebecca. “Are you doing all right?”
Rebecca sipped her tea and then lifted a cookie from the plate. “I’m doing pretty well. The kinner and I miss her, but we’re getting by.”
“If you ever need any help,” Katie began, “I can always come over and lend a hand.”
“You’re sweet,” Rebecca said. “But I know your mammi needs you at the bakery. I wouldn’t want to steal you away.”
“Then I’ll just stop by every so often to check on you,” Katie said between bites of a cookie.
“I’ll come too,” Lizzie Anne chimed in.
“Danki.” Rebecca smiled, thankful for her niece and her friend. They discussed the warm weather and then the girls talked about their families. Soon it was starting to get dark out, and Rebecca encouraged them to get on the road before it became too dangerous to travel on the roads in the dark.
Standing outside in the driveway, Rebecca hugged the girls and then waved as the buggy started down the driveway. As they drove off, Rebecca thought again of Lindsay and decided that she couldn’t wait a few days to call her. She would give her a call
tomorrow afternoon while the children were napping.
11
Lindsay sat at the kitchen table clad in a new jumper and made a shopping list while a stew cooking in the crockpot on the counter filled the kitchen with a delicious aroma the following afternoon. She’d scrounged around the kitchen to pull together something for supper, and the only idea she had was making a stew. Although she’d considered using an old-fashioned pot, Trisha suggested a crockpot. The concept of the crockpot seemed a little odd, but she decided to try it and made a mental note to tell Rebecca about it. Since the cabinets and freezer were bare, despite snack foods and a few frozen dinners, she didn’t have any ideas for what she could prepare tomorrow.
Flipping through Rebecca’s cookbook, she chewed on the end of her pencil and wondered how things were back in Lancaster County. She hoped Rebecca had remembered to check the voicemail last night and had received her message.
When the phone began to ring, she jumped up and grabbed it from the wall on the second ring without checking the caller ID, in hopes of not waking Trisha, who napped in the den.
“Hello?” Lindsay asked.
“Lindsay?” Rebecca’s voice asked. “Is that you?”
“Aenti Rebecca!” Lindsay nearly shouted. She then cupped her hand over her mouth, realizing she was too loud. “How are you?”
“Gut,” Rebecca said. “How are you?”
“Fine.” Lindsay twirled the pencil in her hand as she spoke. “How are the kinner?”
“Gut, gut,” Rebecca said. “They miss you. Junior says you’re better at reading the nighttime story to him than I am.”
Lindsay smiled while thinking of her two little cousins. “I miss reading to him, but I don’t think I’m a better reader than you.”
“He thinks so,” Rebecca said. “Lizzie Anne and Katie came to visit me last night.”
“Oh?” Lindsay asked. “How are they?”
“Doing fine,” Rebecca said. “They wanted to know how you’re doing. Lizzie Anne was disappointed that you didn’t say good-bye to her in person.”
Lindsay grimaced. “I should’ve invited her to come to the bus station, but I didn’t think she could’ve come.”
