by Marta Perry
“I’ll see you on Friday evening, then.” Brad headed for the door, leaving her frowning.
“Friday?”
“The charity dinner-dance, remember? I’m escorting you and your grandmother.”
At Gran’s instigation, no doubt. “I’m not sure I’ll be going.”
The glare she sent his way was intended to express her displeasure at having her social life arranged for her. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to faze Brad. He simply smiled.
“Of course. Whatever you decide. You know I always enjoy your company.” He was calm, as if she were a rebellious teen instead of a grown woman who could make her own decisions and her own mistakes.
She sat staring at the door he closed behind him, wondering why Brad was willing to let himself be manipulated by her grandmother into interceding. That was a pattern they’d fallen into long ago, she supposed.
With a perfunctory knock, Kendra burst in. “I almost broke in on you and Dr. Dull a couple of minutes ago. I was afraid you were going to fall for that I’m-only-interested-in-your-welfare act he does so well.”
“Listening at the door?” Chloe shook her head in mock despair. “What next?”
“You should be glad I’m nosy. Keeps you on your toes.” Kendra handed her a cold bottle of iced tea and uncapped her own, plopping into the folding chair next to the desk. “I missed some of what was said. Dr. Dull was using his soothing voice, darn him. What did he want?”
“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.” Chloe’s protest was halfhearted. Face it, Brad was dull, if by that you meant predictable, steady, never changing. “He’s a fine person and a family friend.”
“You mean he’s a good therapist. Just bear in mind he puts your grandmother’s interests first.”
“I suppose my grandmother did put Brad up to coming. She thought he’d convince me . . .”
“To convince you what?” Kendra prompted when she let that trail off.
Chloe held the cold bottle against her forehead for a moment, as if she could freeze out the tumble of thoughts and doubts. “My grandmother thinks I should accept the fact that my sisters are lost to me and move on. She claimed she wasn’t able to gain custody of the other two.”
Kendra tilted her head, considering. “I can’t see your grandmother failing if that was what she really wanted to do. I mean, really—pitting the Wentworth money and influence against a couple of uneducated Amish farmers? It wouldn’t even be a contest.”
“No.” That was what she’d been thinking, but Kendra had voiced it clearly. “If she’d wanted the other two, she’d have had them. She finally admitted as much. She claimed they were old enough to have already been too influenced by the Amish, but really, they were only five and three. They’d have forgotten that life in months if she’d gained custody.”
“She didn’t want a whole family,” Kendra said. “She just wanted to replace the daughter she’d lost. You were hardly more than a baby, so she could mold you into the person she wanted you to be. Or at least, she thought she could, discounting other external influences.” Kendra grinned, clearly numbering herself among those influences.
Guilt stirred in Chloe. She shouldn’t be talking this way about her grandmother. “Gran loves me. And it’s true that she was terribly hurt when her daughter ran away.”
Kendra shrugged. “There’s a difference between running away and choosing your own life. Which was it?”
“I don’t know.” That numbered chief among the many things she didn’t know, and Chloe could only be stunned at herself. “Why didn’t I ask questions? Am I really that complacent?”
“Maybe.” Kendra grimaced. “And maybe you shouldn’t take my word for it. I was born a rebel, but then, I had to be. You still have a chance to find out, don’t you?”
“I guess.” Chloe reached into her bag and pulled out the letter she’d been carrying around for the past two days. “My sister Lydia wrote to me.”
Kendra leaned forward. “What does she say?”
“Read it for yourself.” She gave the envelope to Kendra. “I’d like to know what you think.”
Kendra held it for a moment. “What did your grandmother say about it?”
“She doesn’t know.” Chloe threw up her hands. “All right, I’m a chicken. I just didn’t want to get into another fight. We’re both tiptoeing around each other, being excruciatingly polite.”
“Cluck, cluck.” Kendra laughed and unfolded the letter.
Chloe didn’t need to have the letter in front of her to know what it said. She’d read it so many times she’d practically memorized it.
She’d had the sense that Lydia had written carefully, maybe judging the effect of every word. She was probably as apprehensive about this situation as Chloe was.
What had come through to Chloe on the pages was an image of a woman devoted to the two little boys she described, a woman shocked at the discovery of two sisters she’d never known she had, a woman longing to build a bridge between their lives. Nothing in the short letter seemed off-key or opportunistic.
Lydia had ended with an invitation to come to Pleasant Valley for a visit. Your sister, Lydia. Those final words were punctuated by a tiny bubble on the inexpensive tablet paper, as if Lydia had dropped a tear just there.
Kendra folded the letter, slid it into the envelope, and handed it back. “She sounds nice. Not well-educated or sophisticated, just nice. So why are you carrying the letter around instead of answering it?”
Chloe knew what Kendra would have done in her place, but she wasn’t Kendra. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to start a relationship with her. We’re so completely different. I can’t begin to understand why she wants to live the way she does, and I doubt she’d ever understand my life.”
Kendra shrugged. “You might be underestimating her. Even the Amish can’t be totally disconnected from the modern world, I’ll bet. What’s the harm in writing? Or even in going to visit?”
“None, I guess. But I can’t forget that my mother probably wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t joined those people.”
“Is that according to your grandmother?” Kendra inquired. “Listen, bad things happen to people every day. You could walk outside and get hit by a drunk driver. I admit, I don’t get why your mother walked away from a life of privilege to ride in buggies and hang her clothes on a line to dry, but it was her decision. If you really want to understand it, you’ll have to go there. You know that as well as I do. So what’s holding you back?”
Chloe smiled ruefully. “Does the word chicken come to mind?”
“Even chickens can fly, so I’ve heard,” Kendra said.
“Right.” Chloe took a deep breath. “So I guess I’ll be making a trip sometime soon.”
* * *
Chloe’s first impulse was to call Seth immediately, but she denied it. It would be far better to be prepared for the conversation, ready to suggest a day and a place to meet.
Resorting to the computer again, she looked up maps of the area. There were several larger towns in the vicinity of Pleasant Valley. Bearing in mind Seth’s comments about the difficulties the Amish faced in traveling long distances, she narrowed the choices to Lewisburg, Oyersburg, and possibly Mifflinburg. She’d have to ask Seth which would work best.
She could drive to the area on Friday and book a motel room. That would get her out of the dinner-dance on Friday evening very neatly.
Tempting, but she knew Gran would be disappointed if she didn’t go with her. Since she was going to be upsetting her grandmother in one rather large way, she may as well try to please her in this small one.
Chloe picked up the cell phone and punched in Seth’s number. Would he be available? Surely the man must work sometimes.
Apparently not at the moment, because he answered almost immediately.
“Chloe.” He sounded wary. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
A woman’s voice soared in the background. She sounded upset, although Chloe couldn’t make ou
t the words.
“If this isn’t a good time to talk . . .” she began.
“It’s fine.” The words were clipped. “Just give me a moment.”
Chloe heard his footsteps and the sound of a door closing. It cut off the woman’s voice in midsentence.
Well. If she were his girlfriend, she wouldn’t appreciate being walked out on. It could be his mother, she supposed, but the voice had sounded young.
“All right. I can hear you better now. Do you have more questions for me?”
Seth still didn’t sound particularly delighted at her call. Well, why should he? He’d gone to considerable trouble to help out a friend, it seemed, and gained nothing but grief.
“I do have questions, but I’m not sure you’re the best person to answer them.” She took a breath, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach. “I’d like to come and see Lydia.”
There was a pause. “That’s quite a turnaround. Her letter must have been very persuasive.”
He seemed determined to nettle her.
“I appreciated her letter, but she didn’t try to persuade me to do anything. I’ve decided it’s the right thing to do. That’s all.”
With a little help from Kendra, she added silently.
“When were you thinking of coming? The apple orchard is in bloom right now, so it’s quite a sight. Lydia will be—”
“Not to the house.” She interrupted him, feeling a touch of panic at the thought of the house where her mother had lived. “I don’t want . . . I thought we could meet for lunch someplace.”
“A neutral meeting ground?” His tone was dry.
“Why not? I think you’re the one who suggested that initially, aren’t you?”
“I guess I did. Well, it’s better than nothing. Why don’t you want to come here?”
“Here? Are you at Lydia’s now?” Had that been her sister’s voice in the background?
“I’m at my mother’s. Standing on her back porch, to be exact, looking past the orchard at Lydia and Adam’s house. I should think you’d want to see it. Your parents lived there, after all. You were born there.”
That hadn’t occurred to her, but that only increased the sense of panic. She was learning too much, too quickly. “I’d rather meet somewhere else, maybe for lunch in one of the nearby towns. What about Lewisburg or Oyersburg? Or is there an easier town for Lydia to reach?”
“You still didn’t answer my question. Why don’t you want to come here?”
It hadn’t taken Seth Miller long to annoy her. She suspected it was intentional.
“Visiting someone’s home involves a level of commitment I’m not ready to make.” That was true as far as it went, and she hoped it would satisfy his curiosity. “And you didn’t answer my question, either. Which town would be the best choice?”
Seth hesitated for a moment, making her wonder what he found difficult about deciding on a place. Then he spoke.
“There’s a restaurant called the Plain and Fancy Diner in Oyersburg that’s popular with both Amish and Englisch. When will you come?”
Chloe jotted down the name. “What about this Saturday? I’m in the middle of a project, so I’d hate to take time off on a weekday right now.”
“I’m sure Saturday will be fine.” He was brisk, probably not wanting to risk her changing her mind. “I’ll confirm it with Lydia and get back to you.”
“I’ll plan to be there around noon, unless I hear otherwise from you.” She studied the map she had open on the computer screen. “Oyersburg looks fairly easy to reach from the interstate. Can you give me directions to the restaurant?”
“When you come into town, you’ll see a park right in front of you, bordering the river. Just pull into the parking lot. I’ll meet you there and take you to the restaurant.”
“That’s not necessary. I don’t need an escort.” And she didn’t think she wanted Seth’s critical eyes on her when she met her sister for the first time.
“I’m not worried about you,” he said. “I’m thinking of Lydia. It will make it easier for her if I’m there to introduce you.”
That still didn’t seem necessary to her, but if it smoothed the way, she could put up with Seth’s disturbing presence for a short time.
“Fine. I’ll look for you at the park.”
“Think of me as your liaison with Amish life.” The annoyance had washed from his voice, probably because she’d given in. Instead he sounded faintly amused, giving her a swift, vivid image of his strong face, lips quirking slightly, gray eyes filled with laughter.
“I’ll see you Saturday,” she said quickly.
“You won’t back out, will you? I don’t want Lydia to get her hopes up if you’re going to bail on her.”
“I’ve said I’m coming.” Just as quickly she was annoyed with him again. “I do what I say I will.” She clicked off. For better or worse, the decision was made.
CHAPTER NINE
Seth lingered on the back porch for a moment after disconnecting. So Chloe was willing to meet her sister. Unfortunately she was also wary and somewhat defensive, which wouldn’t help this reunion.
What was behind this reluctance of hers to see the place where she was born? He could only think that she had some deep feelings about her birth family—feelings she wasn’t yet ready to address.
He was a fine one to judge her on that score. He had his own set of complicated family feelings, and right now he’d better go inside and deal with the latest crisis.
But when Seth reached the kitchen, he found that harmony had been restored. He shot a questioning glance toward his mother, who stood at the stove, and she responded with a slight shake of her head.
Jessie emerged from the enclosed porch where Mamm stored some of the fruits and vegetables, an apple in her hand.
“Blackie deserves a treat for being so patient when we were at the store, ain’t so, Mammi?”
Jessie was as pert and happy as if she were eight again instead of over twenty. Looking at her rosy cheeks and sparkling blue eyes, he found it hard to reconcile her with the virago who had been screeching like a crow only minutes before because Mamm had forgotten her favorite kind of pudding.
“Take it out to him,” Mamm said. “But don’t forget supper’s nearly ready.”
Seth tensed, waiting for a snappish response to Mamm’s gentle words, but Jessie hurried out, her steps as light as if she were dancing.
He waited until she was out of earshot. “The new medicine isn’t working as well as the last one, is it?” He put his hand gently on Mamm’s shoulder.
“They said it might be some time before it would take effect, I think.” Mamm’s brow furrowed, as if she wasn’t sure.
He should have gone along on that last doctor’s visit. Mamm wasn’t able to handle the repercussions of Jessie’s bipolar disorder on her own.
“I’ll come with you to the next appointment,” he said, silently determined to confront the doctor on the subject of Jessie’s medication. His mother had all she could do to deal with her own recovery from the broken hip.
He glanced at her, his heart taking a blow at the sight of her drawn face. He’d been gone too long, out in the Englisch world pursuing his own dreams and letting his mother carry the burdens alone. If he’d never jumped the fence—
Regrets were seldom useful, and he couldn’t know if it would have made any difference if he’d stayed. He took down plates from the cabinet and began setting the table. It was Jessie’s job, of course, but he was doing it for Mamm, not Jessie.
His mother checked the chicken potpie keeping warm on the back of the gas stove, her face intent. He’d suggested a few times that they have simpler meals or that he bring food in from town, but he’d seen how unhappy it made her. To Mamm, feeding people was her way of loving them, and he didn’t want to take that away from her.
If he hadn’t left, what would his life be now? It had been so long since he’d been Amish he found it hard even to imagine. He might have married a local girl, som
eone like Lydia, and have had a houseful of children. If so, Mamm and Jessie would probably live with them, and his imaginary wife would see to it that Mamm felt useful without overtaxing herself.
He shook his head, laughing at himself. A nice picture, but it wouldn’t have been that way. He knew himself better. If he hadn’t gone, he’d have ended up bitter and dissatisfied, probably making everyone around him unhappy as well.
Life was the way it was, and right now it was a delicate balancing act between doing the work he found so fulfilling and caring for his family. And that was difficult enough, without adding Chloe Wentworth to the mix.
“Seth? Your call—was it something wrong at work?” Mamm didn’t usually ask about his job, preferring to ignore what she didn’t understand, but apparently he was letting his expression show too much.
“Nothing like that. It’s actually good news. That was Lydia’s little sister, the one I went to see in Philadelphia. She wants to meet with Lydia.”
“Ach, that is gut indeed.” Mamm’s tired face was transformed by her smile. She was as happy for Lydia as she would have been for herself. “Lydia will be so pleased. She has been grieving about it, I know. But you must go now and tell her.” Mamm gestured with the dish towel in her hand, as if shooing the chickens. “We can wait supper for you.”
“No, you can’t,” he said, escorting her firmly to her seat at the table. “You’re going to sit right down, and I’ll serve.” He glanced at Jessie as she came in, cheeks rosy. “Mamm is looking tired, don’t you think, Jessie? After supper maybe you and I can clean up while she has a little rest. I’ll enjoy your company.”
Jessie’s response hung in the balance for a moment, but then she smiled. “You wash and I’ll dry, ja?”
He nodded, lifting the steaming potpie with a towel. Lydia would be just as happy with the news whenever he delivered it, and first he was going to see Mamm off her feet and resting.
Lydia would be delighted to be meeting her sister, he knew. But he had a feeling Adam wouldn’t consider this good news.
