by Beth Wiseman
She shuffled to the porch and walked up the steps. While she waited for Marianne to answer, she counted in her head. It had been weeks since she’d spent any significant time with her friend apart from brief hellos at church. This past Sunday they hadn’t even had that.
“Cora, wie bischt? I’ve missed you. I was going to check on you folks when none of you were at worship on Sunday.” Marianne stepped aside and motioned for Cora to come in. “Have you been ill? Is one of the kinner sick?”
Cora shook her head. “Nee. I just wasn’t feeling well, and after some arguing, I gave in and told the children they could stay home as well. John had already said he wasn’t going.” She hung her head for a moment. “Mei family played hooky, I guess.”
“I won’t tell.” Marianne grinned as she gently put a hand on Cora’s arm. “Come with me to the kitchen. I have a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies in the oven that I’m bound to forget about if I’m not nearby.”
“Those are John’s favorite,” Cora mumbled as she followed Marianne into the hot kitchen and pulled out a chair from the kitchen table.
“We will send him some home, then.” Marianne turned to face her, still smiling. Cora knew that’s why she liked coming here. Marianne always seemed happy. She was married to the gruffest man around, yet her demeanor was always one of good cheer.
“I don’t think John deserves any cookies,” Cora said, then chuckled. “I know. That’s awful of me to say.”
Marianne pulled a pan of cookies from the oven and put them on a cooling rack before joining Cora at the table. “Then maybe we will send him just one. You know . . . to torture him.”
Cora chuckled. It felt good to laugh a little. “Ya, we should do that.”
“I’m glad you came by. I’ve missed our visits.” Marianne eased herself down into a chair, then locked her hands together atop the table and leaned toward Cora. “And I wanted to talk to you about Lucy Turner.”
Cora should have suspected this, but she’d been preoccupied with other matters. She waited for her friend to go on.
“It took a lot for Lucy to tell you the truth about . . . about her situation. The girl really seems to be trying to make a gut life for her and Benjamin.”
Cora humphed. “She’s hardly a girl. I’m guessing she’s in her midthirties. And she knew what she was doing when she seduced another woman’s husband.” Cora swallowed hard. Though John’s infidelity had occurred years ago, recollections of it were still fresh in her mind.
Marianne chewed her bottom lip. “You don’t know that’s how it happened, Cora. Maybe Ivan pursued her.”
Cora shrugged. “Does it really matter?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But Cora . . .” Marianne reached over and touched her hand. “You know it’s not our place to judge. And before you knew about this, you and Lucy were becoming gut friends. I think Lucy needs friends. It sounds like she has her hands full trying to take care of her mudder.”
“That’s all fine and gut. But it’s not my job to minister to an Englisch woman, someone who’s clearly used bad judgment in the past. That doesn’t mean I’m judging her. Only God can do that.”
“Exactly.”
They were quiet for a few moments before Cora spoke up again. This wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have with Marianne. But her friend had managed to make her feel guilty—and for what? “I think you’re judging me because you think I’m judging Lucy.”
Marianne didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow.
“I’m free to choose who I want to be friends with.” Cora lifted her chin.
“Ya. You are.”
Cora slouched back in the chair. Despite her resolve, she was blinking back tears.
“Maybe you should give Lucy another chance. Seems a shame to just disregard the friendship so easily.”
Cora squeezed her eyes shut, then sniffled as she opened them. “Look, I didn’t come here to talk about Lucy. I—I have something else on my mind, and . . .” She put her elbows on the table and rested her forehead in her hands.
“What is it, dear?” Marianne’s voice was soft and sympathetic, as Cora knew it would be.
Might as well spit it out. “I’m pregnant.” Cora shook her head. “I’m forty-three years old. I have six—five—kinner, and now I’m pregnant again.”
Marianne’s eyes lit up. “Oh my. I didn’t realize that you and your husband, uh . . . I mean, I thought you were having so many problems . . . But, Cora, this is good news. A—”
“I don’t want this boppli.” Cora almost jumped as she heard the words clip across her tongue. Until now, she’d never said aloud what she was feeling. “A boppli cannot replace Leah. And as for John . . .” She took a deep breath. “Nothing has changed. It was one time. Just that one time, and . . .” She leaned her head back on her shoulders as she felt a headache brewing. Had she really expected any other reaction from Marianne?
“Of course you want the boppli.” Marianne smiled. “But you weren’t expecting this, so it has caught you off guard. Have you told John?”
Cora shook her head. Marianne was wrong, but why bother arguing? “Nee, I haven’t told him.”
“Honey, I know this little one won’t replace Leah—of course not. But a child is such a gift, and the Lord has seen fit to bless you with another one. You must share this news with your husband. Maybe it will ease his suffering in some way.”
Cora didn’t care about John’s suffering at the moment. She flattened her palms across her belly, knowing what was ahead for her. The morning sickness, the weariness and mood swings, the difficulty of being pregnant at her age. And then, to bring an infant child into their sad, lonely house—she didn’t think she could bear it. But Marianne wasn’t going to understand that, so Cora changed the subject.
“I have something else to talk to you about. I don’t want to get Anna in trouble, but Jacob told me he and Anna eat lunch together most days.”
Marianne shifted her weight in the chair, then folded her hands in front of her again. “Anna hasn’t said anything, but I figured she was seeing Jacob while she was on her route.”
“Well, I think it’s a shame those two can’t spend more time together. Jacob seems to care about Anna a great deal. Have you had any luck talking to your husband?”
“Not yet. But I’m sure he will come around.”
“You keep saying that, Marianne. But when? Jacob is a fine boy. He would make a gut husband. Your husband isn’t giving him a chance.”
“I will talk to Isaac again.” Marianne pulled her eyes from Cora’s, and Cora didn’t think she would talk to her husband at all. Cora felt anger building—about Lucy Turner, John, the pregnancy, the bishop’s strict ways. About everything. It was time to leave before she said something that would cost her the only real friend she’d made since she moved here.
“I better go.” She stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her apron. “I just came to tell you about the boppli. And about Jacob and Anna. I really hope you can do something to convince Bishop Byler to allow them to date.”
Marianne stood too and touched her on the arm. “I will talk to him, I promise. And, Cora . . . I will be praying for you and your little one. This pregnancy really is a gift. You will see that when you adjust to the idea.”
I hope so. Cora summoned a weak smile. “I will see you soon.”
Marianne followed Cora through the living room to the front door. “I’m having Lucy and Benjamin over on Thursday for lunch. It’s Lucy’s day off. I’d like for you to come too.” Marianne smiled. “That little Benjamin just brightens any room he’s in.”
Cora tensed. “Thursday isn’t gut for me, Marianne. But danki for asking.” She walked out the front door without looking back. Marianne was wonderful, but if her new friend was going to keep meeting with Lucy, Cora needed to pull back from her friendship with Marianne.
Cora had no intention of being friends with an adulterous woman. And she couldn’t believe Marianne was pushing for it.
Marianne�
�s heart filled with sadness as she watched Cora head down the driveway. She’d been polite enough, but Marianne could see the tension in her face and hear the discord in her voice. The woman needs her husband.
As for Lucy, she couldn’t force Cora to accept the younger woman. And Marianne certainly didn’t condone what Lucy had done, but something deep within tugged at Marianne to help her. Marianne had always believed that when the Lord calls on us, we have to respond. And she’d meant what she said about Benjamin. There was nothing like a child to brighten a room, and Marianne missed having little ones around the house. She couldn’t wait for great-grandchildren.
That thought brought Anna and Jacob to mind. She was going to have to do something extreme to get Isaac to loosen up before he ran everyone in their district off—but mostly before he pushed Anna away.
It was all too much to think about this early in the morning, so Marianne decided to seek comfort the only way she knew how these days. She headed to the basement, savoring the underground coolness, and unlocked her special room.
She’d confessed to Isaac about the cell phone, saying she kept it only for emergencies, and so far he hadn’t pressured her to give it up. But he still didn’t know anything about the other items in the basement room, and Anna hadn’t told him. She and Marianne seemed to have fallen into a kind of unspoken agreement—I won’t tell on you if you won’t tell on me. Marianne had been pretty sure that Anna was seeing Jacob. Otherwise, she would have been pushing harder to get Isaac to relent. Instead, apparently, the girl had taken matters into her own hands. Marianne couldn’t really blame her.
She glanced around at all her things, knowing she wasn’t in a position to judge anyone about deception. As she sank down in her comfy chair, she eyed all the boxes, one in particular. There was no reason in the world for her to have a box full of jewelry that she was never going to wear. I’m such a silly old woman.
She shook her head as she retrieved the box and placed it in her lap. She fingered through the necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. Some of the items had cost a considerable amount of money. She probably had thousands of dollars’ worth of jewelry in here—all because she’d needed to feel somehow in control of her own life.
But harboring such luxuries was weighing more and more heavily on Marianne these days. While many of the things she’d collected would look lovely around her home—dishes, curtains, knickknacks—so many others had been a total waste of money, not to mention setting up a habit of deception.
She put the box of jewelry back on the shelf and reached for her new pink sweater. Even on this hot August day, its softness felt good to her. As she wrapped it around her shoulders, she wondered how she’d allowed herself to get to this point. Anna had been shocked to see this room. This was not setting a good example for her granddaughter.
She put the sweater back in its place when she heard a noise upstairs. It was much too early for Anna to be home yet, so she trudged back up the narrow steps. When she opened the basement door, she heard someone beating on the front door.
“I’m coming!” Compared to the basement, the main floor of the house felt like a sauna. She wiped at her forehead as she moved through the hot living room, surprised to see Lucy Turner standing on the other side of the screen with Benjamin in her arms. Marianne’s new kitty, whom she’d named Patches, was rubbing up against Lucy’s legs.
“Marianne, I’m so sorry to bother you.” Lucy shifted Benjamin to her other hip.
“No bother, dear. Come in.” She pushed the screen door wide so Lucy and Benjamin could come in. She couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved that Lucy hadn’t bumped into Cora. Cora didn’t try to hide her feelings, and Lucy would have left feeling bad.
“I’m sorry to ask you this, but is there any way you could keep Benjamin for me today? I’m already late for work, but my day care won’t take Benjamin because he has a low-grade fever. I told them he’s just teething, but they’re sticking to their policy. I can’t leave him with my mother, and my backup sitter moved last week.”
Marianne swallowed hard. As much as she would love to keep Benjamin, she knew Isaac would be home before Lucy returned. She didn’t think anyone was ready for that confrontation. Plus, she was feeling a little tired this afternoon—the heat, no doubt. She’d be happy when fall arrived.
“I completely understand if you can’t,” Lucy was saying. “I just don’t trust many people to keep him, and he seems to like you so much.”
Marianne felt the compliment from head to toe. “Of course I’ll keep this lad.” She held out her arms. “I’ve got a full day of baking planned, and I bet I know someone who would like to help.” She recalled how Anna used to love to sit in the middle of the floor licking the spoons and bowls when Marianne was baking.
Lucy pulled the diaper bag from her shoulder. “Marianne, I owe you lunch, dinner, or something . . .” She paused. “Or I’m happy to pay you.”
Marianne shook her head. “No need, dear. Little Benjamin and I will have a gut time.”
“I would have asked Cora, but . . .” Lucy shrugged, and no further explanation was necessary.
“I’m happy to have some company today.”
Lucy leaned over and kissed Benjamin on the cheek. “I love you, Benny. Be a good boy, and I’ll see you this afternoon.” She looked at Marianne. “I should be here by five thirty.”
“That will be just fine.” Marianne stood Benjamin on the floor beside her. She wasn’t used to carrying a young one around, and her back was already feeling it. She latched onto his small hand and looked back at Lucy. “We will see you this afternoon.”
Lucy thanked Marianne again, gave a quick wave, then hurried to her car.
Marianne walked Benjamin into the living room, glad he hadn’t cried when his mother left. She squatted down in front of him. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Benjamin. How about we go make some whoopee pies?” She brushed back a strand of light brown hair that had fallen across his face, and he rewarded her with a happy smile. Such a precious child! But her heart flipped in her chest, knowing Isaac would not be happy that she was associating with Lucy Turner.
Anna breathed lightly between parted lips as Jacob pulled her closer and kissed her again. For weeks, they’d met daily for lunch at the deli, followed by a stroll around the corner to the alley in back of the restaurant. A delivery man had caught them kissing there once, but only once, and they had never seen any other Amish people around the deli. Anna thought it was because the prices were higher there than at other cafés and restaurants in the area. Whatever the reason, they were lucky to have a place where they could meet and even spend a little time alone.
Anna was in love with Jacob. He was everything she wanted in a spouse—kind, tender, generous, and devoted to family. It didn’t hurt that he was so handsome. Everything about him called to her, and she was sure he was the man she would marry, but Jacob hadn’t shared his feelings with her. Although their passion had surely soared, sometimes to a point where Anna had to back away, Jacob had never told her that he loved her. That was bothersome, but he seemed to “talk” to her in other ways, and she wondered if that counted. The way he gazed into her eyes, ran his thumb down her cheek, told her how pretty she was. And most of all, the way he encouraged her dreams, often telling her that she would have her bakery one day.
“Am I going to see you tomorrow? Same time?” Jacob’s breath smelled of the peppermint she’d seen him pop into his mouth on the way out of the café. His mouth covered hers again before she could answer, and her stomach swirled the way it did every time she was close to him.
She eased away. “Ya, I will be here tomorrow.”
Frowning, he asked, “Is it time for me to try again with your grandfather?”
Anna didn’t want to spoil the moment, but their sneaking around hovered over them like a dark cloud. “I don’t know.”
Jacob shook his head. “We’ve got to make things right.” Then he grinned. “But I can’t stay away from you.”
&n
bsp; She playfully slapped him on the arm. “Daadi knows I’ll leave home someday.” As soon as she said it, she wondered if it sounded like she intended to leave with Jacob. They’d never discussed such a thing. Was he thinking it too?
He kissed her gently. “Well, he’s going to have to come around, before I just show up and whisk you away.”
Anna’s knees went weak, and she could feel herself blushing. I’ll go anywhere with you.
He teasingly tipped his hat, bowing slightly. “See you tomorrow, Miss Anna.”
She grabbed each side of her blue dress and curtsied. “See you then, Mr. Jacob.” She turned to head back to the street where her buggy was parked. When they arrived at the sidewalk, Jacob headed in the other direction toward the lumberyard.
Anna unhitched the horse for the trip home, glad she’d gotten all her deliveries done for the day. Though she passed the lumberyard as usual, she didn’t bother to look in the window. Anna didn’t worry much about Glenda these days, since Jacob had mentioned on several occasions that Glenda’s new boyfriend was a really nice guy. And it helped that Jacob hadn’t gone to Glenda’s party either. He hadn’t even mentioned it to Anna because he knew there would be alcohol and activities they wouldn’t be comfortable with.
It was a good thing the horse knew the way home, because Anna kept drifting off into daydreams about Jacob. But as she pulled her buggy up to her house, she was startled awake by a strange sound coming from the house. It sounded like a wailing child.
She jumped from the buggy and ran for the door without taking the horse to the barn. The closer she got to the house, the louder the cries, and when she burst through the front door, she found little Benjamin Turner sitting in the middle of the floor with a glass of spilt milk. He was red in the face, screaming.
Anna glanced around but didn’t see Lucy or her grandmother. She picked up Benjamin and bounced him on her hip. “There, there, little guy. Where is everyone?”
