by Marta Perry
“This is amazing needlework. I can’t begin to guess the time it must take to do a quilt like this one.”
Her aunt Anna flushed with pleasure but ducked her head as if to avoid the praise. “It is something I love to do, is all. Keeps my hands busy in the winter, especially. I mind your mother wanted to learn to quilt, and I tried to teach her.”
Chloe had to smile at the way that was phrased. “Was she impossible with a needle, like me?”
“She was better at other things,” Anna said tactfully. “But she did make a nine-patch crib quilt for each of you girls when she was expecting you.”
Lydia nodded. “You gave me mine when Daniel was on the way.”
Chloe felt a bit lost. Lydia had at least been brought up knowing about their mother in a natural way.
“I still have yours,” Anna said, reaching out hesitantly to touch Chloe’s arm. “I will bring it to you tomorrow, if you want.”
“I’d like that.” Chloe’s throat tightened, and she made an effort to swallow. Was she destined to be blindsided with emotion the entire time she was here?
“The bathroom is right next door to you,” Lydia said. “And don’t worry about how much hot water you use. We have plenty.”
The news about the bathroom was a relief on several counts. “Okay, thanks.” She set her small suitcase on the straight wooden chair in the corner.
“Now, would you like to rest after your trip, or would you like to see the rest of the place before supper?” Lydia asked.
“I’m not tired. Why don’t you show me around?” This was her opportunity to ask questions about the life her mother had led in this place, and she wasn’t going to waste it. Maybe here she would find the answers she needed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Lydia led the way through the house, from the smallest bedroom, where Aunt Anna said Chloe had slept as a baby, to the basement, clean, bare, and empty.
Chloe glanced around. “Do the boys play in here on rainy days?”
“Sometimes, ja. Mostly we use this when it is our turn to host worship service.”
“It’s a gut space for worship,” Anna said. “In Eli and Diane’s time, the washer was down here, also the storage for canned goods. Eli didn’t want Diane going up and down the stairs so much, especially when she was expecting, so he built the laundry room and pantry upstairs.”
It was a little fact about the father whose face and personality had long eluded her. He had been protective of his wife, it seemed. And having seen Joseph, she could begin to imagine his appearance.
“Komm, we’ll walk around outside while the sun is still warm.” They went upstairs, but Aunt Anna stopped in the kitchen.
“You two go on and look around. I’ll chust start mixing the dumplings. It will be suppertime before you know it.”
Lydia nodded, and the two of them went back out onto the porch. “She is giving us a chance to be alone together, I think. We haven’t really had that before, ain’t so?”
Chloe nodded, not having figured out the correct response to the phrase the Amish often seemed to add, turning a sentence into a question.
“You have cows and horses?” That was probably a stupid question, since she could see both animals from where they were standing.
“Ja, just two cows for milk and now a couple of calves we’re raising for market. The two horses are used mostly with the buggy and wagon. Daad has a team of draft horses he uses with the plow, and we can borrow them when we need them.”
“And that’s the orchard you told me about in your letter.”
“Ja.” They walked toward the trees. Daniel and David, spotting them, came running to join them. The boys fell into step with them, and David’s hand slid into Chloe’s.
Chloe’s heart warmed. Here was one person who accepted her, it seemed.
“Some of the fruit trees were here when our mother and father moved here. Others they added.” Lydia waved to a section of what were obviously smaller trees. “Adam and I planted the cherry trees.”
It was quiet and shady under the trees, and the very air seemed filled with the scent of growing things. Peaceful. Maybe that peace was part of what Diane had cherished here. Chloe could certainly understand that lure.
“There’s something I want to show you.” Lydia took her hand as naturally as David had and led her to the center of the orchard. “This was the tree I told you about. Both Mamm and our neighbor, Seth’s mother, remembered seeing Diane telling us stories here. They each said how much Diane loved this tree.” She tilted her face back to look up into its branches.
Chloe did the same. What had their mother seen in this old, gnarled apple tree that had made her love it? True, the stillness was intense here, the sense of distance from the busy world so real you could almost imagine you were in another time. Another world. Maybe that was it.
“I fell from way up there,” David said, pointing to the scar of a broken branch, pale against the weathered bark.
“I hope you didn’t get hurt.” Chloe looked from the child’s face to Lydia’s, questioning. “That seems awfully high for him to climb.”
“Ja, they both know it was wrong.” Lydia gave the boys a severe look that didn’t quite mask the devotion in her eyes. “He had some bumps and scrapes, that was certain-sure. And he won’t do something so ferhoodled again.”
“I won’t, Mammi.” David studied his toes.
“The tree is old and badly cracked in places,” Lydia said. “Adam trimmed it to try and save it. I would not want to see it come down.”
“No.” Chloe put her hand on the rough bark. It was warm under her palm, almost like a living creature. Perhaps her mother had done the same. It was as if she were touching her mother’s hand through the years. “I wouldn’t, either.”
* * *
Lydia found she was breathing a little easier when supper was over. It seemed to her that Chloe stiffened up a little when Adam and Daad were there. But once everyone had eaten probably more than their fill of chicken potpie, mashed potatoes, rhubarb sauce, bread and butter pickles, dried corn pudding, and Mamm’s pies, the men had departed for the chairs on the front porch, the boys headed out to do their evening chores, and the women were left alone in the kitchen.
“Let me dry,” Chloe said, snatching the tea towel before Mamm could reach it.
“You should relax. You’re our guest.” Lydia set an armful of plates in the hot soapy water.
Chloe’s smile held an edge of determination. “If I’m family, then I get to help. I might not be much of a cook, but I can certainly dry dishes.”
“I will put away then,” Mamm said, settling it. “Chloe won’t know yet where things go, ain’t so?”
Giving in, Lydia put the first hot rinsed plates in the drainer. “You are family, that’s certain-sure. I just thought you might be tired from the trip.”
“Not at all.” Chloe glanced out the window over the sink, apparently watching the boys shooing the chickens in for the night. “I guess boys don’t do the dishes.”
Lydia felt sure her surprise was showing in her face. “Why should they? They have other chores. If I had a daughter . . .” The pause was, she hoped, not noticeable. “. . . she would help in the house.”
Chloe shrugged. “One of my friends has three children, and she insists the boys learn to do dishes and laundry as well as their sister. I suppose she feels that when they’re on their own, they’ll need to know how.”
Lydia had told herself she should be ready for questions about the difference between Amish life and the world’s ways, but she hadn’t expected this one. “Adam and the boys would do what they must if they had to, but why would they need to?”
Chloe set a plate on the counter. “What if you were sick? Or had some other problem?”
That was easy enough to answer. “In times of trouble, I could count on Mamm, or my sisters-in-law, or any of the church sisters. They would be here without being asked to help out.”
It seemed so obvious to her, but
it clearly wasn’t to Chloe. Something about her mutinous look reminded Lydia of David. Surely they weren’t going to argue over something as foolish as washing dishes, were they?
“I have such happy memories of washing dishes with my sisters,” Mamm said, her voice soothing. “And with your mamm, too. We enjoyed getting the men and boys out of the way so we could talk of women things.” Her smile was gentle. “I mind we were washing dishes when she told me you were on the way, Chloe. Susanna was toddling around the kitchen, walking from chair to chair, and Lydia was helping me dry. Funny, how bright a memory can be after so many years. Diane looked so happy and peaceful.”
Chloe’s hands had stilled on the dish she was drying, and Lydia had to blink away tears.
“Thank you,” Chloe said softly. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Ja.” Lydia could understand why Mamm hadn’t told her that story before, but those years of secrecy had been harmful to both of them. What difference might it have made if she’d grown up knowing about Susanna and Chloe? She wasn’t sure.
Unfortunately, there was another story about their mother she’d have to share, and it must be soon. She had to show Chloe the contents of the toy dower chest.
The opportunity didn’t come until later in the evening. Or at least, that’s what Lydia told herself. Maybe she’d just been putting it off as long as possible.
She stood outside Chloe’s bedroom door, the box cradled against her like a boppli. Chloe had just come up, so surely she wouldn’t be in bed yet. She tapped on the door.
“Chloe? May I come in?”
Chloe swung the door open. She’d slid her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers, but otherwise she was still dressed. “Sure, come in.” She glanced at the dower chest.
“I wanted to show you this sometime when we didn’t have the boys trying to get your attention.”
Daniel and David had warmed up to their new aunt, introducing her to the farm board game that was their current favorite. Chloe had played with every sign of enjoyment, though it probably wasn’t her idea of the best way to spend an evening.
“I loved playing with them.” Chloe sat on the bed, curling one leg under her. “What do you have there?”
Lydia sat down and put the box between them. It was only right that Chloe should know. There’d been enough secrets. But still, she found herself longing for a reason not to show her sister the journal.
“This box is what we would call a dower chest. A toy one,” she added. “For a little girl to keep her treasures in. Our daad made it for me when I was small.”
Chloe traced the lines of the box with her fingertips. “I know what dower chests are. We have some very old ones in the museum’s collection. This is beautiful work. I didn’t know he was a craftsman.”
Lydia smiled. “I don’t know that he would have called himself by that word. It was just something he did on the side.” Like Adam’s clocks.
“You’re lucky to have it after all these years,” Chloe said.
“I’ve actually only had it for a short time.” Lydia drew in a breath, wishing this were easier. “Mamm had used it to put some private things of our mother’s in. To save for us.”
“I see.” There was a question in Chloe’s eyes, but at least she didn’t voice it. She was no doubt wondering how someone like Mamm had come to be drawn into such a difficult secret.
“There is something that should belong to you.” Lydia lifted the lid. “This Bible must have been hers when she was a girl. It’s in Englisch, so I want you to have it.”
Chloe took it gently, handling the Bible as if it were made of glass. “Are you sure? Your mamm probably saved these things for you.”
“Ach, no, she agreed with me about the Bible. It is yours.” Lydia put her hand over her sister’s on the Bible, and it seemed to her that a wordless wave of love flowed between them.
That seemed to make the rest of what she must say even harder.
She cleared her throat. “There is not much more. A pressed violet, maybe something that reminded her of our father.” She showed her, marveling at the fragile memento of a long-ago love, still here when the lovers were gone.
Chloe brushed away a tear. “They didn’t have much time together.”
“No.” What else was there to say? “And then there’s this.” Lydia took out the journal and handed it to Chloe.
She opened it, maybe not knowing at first what it was. Then her face cleared. “A journal. Diane kept a journal of her life here?”
“Ja. I have read through much of it. She didn’t write every day. Maybe just when she had something she wanted to express or remember.”
Chloe nodded, her eyes on the book as she turned the pages. “I never even hoped to find something like this—something that would bring her alive to me.”
“Ja, that is how I felt.” Lydia took a breath. “But there is something that I found upsetting. I think it is only right that you should see it.”
Chloe’s eyes were wide, questioning.
Lydia nodded to the book. “Toward the back. I put a slip of paper in it.”
She wanted to say more. To explain that it was only one paragraph out of a whole life; to protest that it could have been a whim born of a bad day. But she held her tongue.
Chloe found the page and read. She looked up at last. “But this—this sounds as if she wasn’t as happy as everyone has been saying. If she was thinking about going home again . . .”
“It might have been just a passing thought. I could find no other reference to such a thing in the whole book. Only that one time.”
“She may not have felt she could write about it other times, even if she felt it.” Chloe’s voice had an edge.
“Ja, that’s true.” Be calm, Lydia cautioned herself. “She might have thought it was disloyal to her husband to write it down, even in her private journal.”
“She sounds unhappy.” Chloe tapped the page.
“Only there,” Lydia protested. “Read the whole thing. You’ll see. There are many places where she talks about how happy she is.”
Chloe nodded, but Lydia could see she wasn’t convinced.
Sorrow closed around Lydia’s heart. She and Chloe had begun to act like sisters. To feel like sisters. Was this revelation about their mother going to spoil their relationship when it had barely begun?
* * *
Seth followed his mamm and sister toward the picnic tables in Lydia and Adam’s backyard Sunday afternoon. Lydia’s whole family was invited to meet Chloe, and she’d included the Miller family as well, either because they were the closest neighbors or possibly so Chloe would have another Englischer there.
Seth had a feeling Chloe might need a little support about now. She’d spent twenty-four hours with her new Amish family, which had to be an emotional strain. And now she was undoubtedly the center of attention for a whole crowd of Amish.
Well, now she’d have him, though he wasn’t sure how much difference that would make to her.
He spotted Chloe helping Lydia spread a cloth over a picnic table. Lydia’s brothers’ wives were similarly occupied, and they all seemed to be talking at once. Chloe looked okay, if a little reserved.
He was headed toward her when Lydia’s brother Andrew clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Seth, wilkom. How about helping me set up the volleyball net?” Andy’s grin didn’t harbor any of the suspicion with which some of the Amish still looked at him. Maybe the Leit were getting used to having him around.
“So I can beat you, Andy?” he asked, grinning.
“You wish,” Andy answered with a slang expression left over from his rumspringa. He had been just starting his running-around time when Seth was getting serious about leaving for good.
“Lead me to it,” he said, allowing himself to be led off. There’d be some point when he could get an unobtrusive word with Chloe and find out how her visit was really going.
“So, Lydia says we have you to thank for finding her sister Chloe.” Andy handed
him one pole and began unrolling the net.
“She’d have found her anyway,” he said, walking backward to extend the net. The support ropes and pegs dangled, nearly tripping him up. “I just shortened the process.”
He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to claim credit for finding Chloe. But then, if things ended badly between Lydia and her sister, he was bound to feel guilty in any event.
“She seems nice,” Andy volunteered between thuds as he hammered the pegs into the soft ground. “A little shy, maybe.”
“Wouldn’t you be shy if you found yourself with a whole new family?” Seth handed him the next peg.
“Ja, I guess. But we’re nice, ain’t so?” Andy gave the final peg a whack. “There we are. I’ll get the ball out for the young ones.”
Left to himself, Seth drifted back toward the table. Lydia’s kin seemed ready to accept Chloe, despite her being Englisch. Maybe they were a bit more open than Adam was, since Chloe was actually their blood relative, just like Lydia.
Chloe was talking to his mamm, now, leaning forward a little and smiling. Mamm would have said something kind at once about Chloe’s mother. That was her way.
Then Jessie was butting into the conversation, probably resenting the fact that Mamm was paying attention to this newcomer. Unfortunately that was her way. He hastened his steps, reaching Chloe just as Mamm steered Jessie away.
“I hope my sister didn’t say anything she shouldn’t have,” he said, not bothering to disguise his anxiety.
“Not exactly.” Chloe’s expression held a question she probably wouldn’t want to ask outright.
“Jessie’s having treatment for some emotional problems, complicated by the fact that she’s apparently bipolar.” He shrugged, annoyed by the necessity of telling his family problems to Chloe. “The doctors throw around a lot of fancy terms, but I’m sometimes not sure they really understand it any better than we do.”
“That’s . . . difficult.” Chloe reached out as if to touch him in sympathy and then drew her hand back. “Is that why you’re staying here?”
