Home All Along

by Beth Wiseman

  Lightning bursting, thunder clattering, and rain falling in sheets around them had them both on edge, but when they pulled into Charlotte’s driveway, the woman and her baby were curled up in the corner of the porch.

  “Oh, thank You, God!” Charlotte jumped from the truck without turning off the engine and sprinted across the yard. She slipped on the porch step and fell before she finally made it to Andrea and Bella.

  Daniel turned off the engine and pressed his foot down on the emergency brake, like he’d seen Charlotte do plenty of times. He grabbed the keys and gathered up her purse, stuffing her phone inside, then darted into the weather. By the time he reached the porch, the two women and the baby were inside, all three in a giant hug, crying in the dark.

  He reached into his pocket and turned on the small flashlight he’d thought to bring when he left home, then he lit the lanterns on Charlotte’s mantel.

  “I was so scared. I’m sorry.” Andrea clung to Charlotte as she stroked her sister’s wet hair.

  “I’m sorry too! Thank God you and Bella are okay.” Charlotte had both arms wrapped around mother and daughter. She probably didn’t even realize her elbow was bleeding. The baby was wailing, so Daniel eased her from her mother’s arms. She tried to resist until Daniel said there were probably cookies in the kitchen.

  He headed that way and shone the flashlight around the kitchen, Bella on his hip, eyeing what must have been supper splattered all over the wooden floor. He stepped around the mess until he located a pink container on the counter. Charlotte kept cookies in there, often store-bought, but it didn’t matter. And thankfully, two cookies were inside. He offered one to the child, bouncing her gently until she caught her breath and took the treat.

  Daniel sat in the chair, Bella on his lap. He looked around the dimly lit room. Maybe he should have seen Charlotte in his mind’s eye, since it was her house, but it was his mother he saw. Smiling, cooking, making coffee, preparing a sandwich for his father.

  When his eyes became moist, he blinked a few times and refocused on the situation at hand. “Do you want another cookie?”

  Bella didn’t smile, but she didn’t try to bolt from his lap or his arms when he stood to get her another cookie. He set her in a chair, then filled a glass with water. After she’d eaten the cookie, he held the cup for her to take a sip of water, but she gulped the liquid down as if she hadn’t had anything to drink in hours. Daniel picked up the pot of food and cleaned the mess as best he could in the nearly dark room.

  “She had some water and a couple of cookies,” he said as he carried Bella back into the living room. Both women were sitting on the couch, sniffling. Crying, Andrea looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Daniel.”

  He held up a hand. “Nee, no need for an apology to me.”

  Andrea turned back to Charlotte. “I don’t know why it took me so long to figure out that it must have been Blake who took the money.”

  Charlotte had her arm around Andrea. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you and Bella are all right.”

  Daniel was aware of Charlotte’s financial issues. She’d worked hard to build up a small savings, but losing an entire paycheck would be rough for her. After Bella climbed onto her mother’s lap, Daniel told the women he was going to leave.

  “But the weather is awful.” Charlotte stood and walked to him, then touched his arm. “Can’t you wait awhile?”

  Daniel glanced out the window. “I’ve been driving a buggy in all types of weather for most of my life. I’ll be fine.” He smiled. “And it sounds like the rain is letting up.”

  Charlotte walked with him onto the front porch. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you a thousand times for coming over and going with me.”

  He hugged her back, cupping her head in one hand. “I’m glad everyone is okay.” She eased away and looked into his eyes. With Charlotte, it always seemed she was searching. Searching for peace. Searching for happiness. Lost relatives. And now, searching his thoughts.

  “I love you.” She said the words with a finality that made his stomach flip.

  “I love you too.” He waited for her to drop a bomb on him, but she just smiled.

  “I can loan you the money that was stolen.” He kissed her on the forehead.

  “Thank you, but I’ll be okay.”

  Now Daniel tried to decipher Charlotte’s thoughts, but the woman was a mystery sometimes. “Ach, well, I’m here if you need anything.”

  She leaned up and kissed him on the mouth, lingering for longer than usual before she said, “Thank you.”

  “I want you to know . . .” Daniel coughed a little, hoping he could complete the rest of his sentence without tears accumulating again. “I’m thinking about what you said, about mei mamm and the machines keeping her alive.”

  “I probably overstepped, Daniel.” She shook her head. “It’s a personal decision, and my beliefs don’t have to be your beliefs.”

  He nodded. “I know. But it’s heavy on my heart, and I’m thinking about it.”

  She cupped his face with her hand. “I know.”

  “Although . . . it is mei daed’s decision to make.”

  “Of course.”

  Daniel kissed her again before he ran across the yard to his buggy.

  Charlotte closed the front door and went back to the couch where Andrea and Bella were sitting.

  “Are you going to marry him?” Andrea bounced Bella on her knee.

  “Well, that’s the big question, I guess.” Every time she talked herself out of a future with Daniel, the other Charlotte who lived in her head talked her back into seeing it as an option. “I love him,” she added in a whisper.

  “So, what are you waiting for?”

  Charlotte leaned back against the couch and sighed. “It’s a lot to think about.”

  They were quiet for a while.

  “I’ll get your money back from Blake.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No. Let it go. We can’t prove it, and I don’t want to draw attention to us. The Amish don’t really like police snooping around or outsiders in their business. And even though I’m not Amish, my house is right in the thick of their district. And they are my friends.”

  Andrea hung her head. “I can’t believe Blake did this. I really didn’t think he was like that.”

  “Maybe he needs it more than we do.” Charlotte shrugged.

  “Does it matter if he needs it more? It wasn’t his to take.”

  Charlotte looked at Bella, sitting quietly on Andrea’s lap, her eyelids heavy. Then she locked eyes with her sister. “Tonight, when you and Bella left, I . . .” She took a deep breath, blinking back tears. “I realized how much you both mean to me. But I would never try to take Bella from you. I really do want us to be a family.”

  “I know I’m not the best mother. I didn’t have good role models.”

  “But you can be different than our mother.” She recalled Andrea’s outburst about not having a good childhood with her adoptive parents. “And different from whoever raised you. I see how much you love Bella.”

  Charlotte heard the words slip from her mouth, almost as if she were talking to herself. Why can’t I be a good mother if I believe that?

  Andrea kissed Bella on the cheek. The tired baby had fallen asleep before they’d even had a chance to clean her up or feed her something besides cookies.

  “I’m so sorry about everything. About Blake. About running out and the things I said.” Another tear slipped down Andrea’s cheek.

  Charlotte stared at her only remaining sibling. “We are going to be okay. I suspect you have issues to work through, the same way I did.” She offered up a weak smile. “I’m still working through some of them, but overall I’ve become a much stronger person, a better person. I give that credit to God.” She shook her head. “I wish I had an oven.”

  “Um, that was rather random. But yeah, kinda limits you as to what you can cook without an oven.”

  “If I had an oven, I would make Lena’s bread recipe
. I used to make it in Houston, but my bread never turned out as good as hers.” Her thoughts drifted to her surrogate mother as sadness wrapped around her. “But today, if I had an oven, I’d make something else.”

  “What?” Andrea leaned back against the couch, Bella still sleeping against her.

  Charlotte smiled. “I’d make a cake. With icing.”

  Andrea ran her tongue along her top lip. “Yum. I love cake. And no cake should be without icing.”

  Charlotte stared at her sister. “How right you are.”

  But Charlotte didn’t have a clue how to offer up Lena’s cake analogy about God and the afterlife in a way that it would make sense to her sister.

  Andrea thought about the five hundred dollars that was directly underneath the cushion where Charlotte was sitting. Most likely, Charlotte wouldn’t keep the money if Andrea told her where it came from. She’d return it to the Amish woman, Edna. And Edna Glick didn’t sound very deserving. But it’s evidently her money.

  Maybe Blake did need the money more than Andrea or Charlotte, but Andrea was pretty sure she needed the five hundred dollars more than the Amish woman. So why do I feel so crummy?

  Maybe she could tell Charlotte she found the money?

  As she looked at her newly found sister’s face, streaked with dried tears and dots of mascara under her eyes, she fought not to start crying again. Charlotte really cared for Bella and her, and Andrea realized she really cared for Charlotte too. That was something she hadn’t foreseen.

  Andrea put her hand on the couch, resting along the seam where the cushions met. With one swoop she could reach underneath where Charlotte was sitting and pull out five hundred dollars. Or not.

  Fifteen

  Saturday morning Daniel stood next to Annie in their mother’s hospital room, watching the rise and fall of Mamm’s chest. The smells of the hospital: ammonia, disinfectant, and sometimes coffee brewing had become all too familiar.

  “That person doesn’t even look like Mamm.” Annie spoke in a whisper, her bottom lip trembling.

  Their father had taken to watching television in the hospital room, and at the moment he was focused on a cowboy movie. How much money did it cost to keep her alive this way? Not that it should matter, but he had the thought anyway. Everyone in their community contributed to a fund for health care, but several unplanned medical emergencies could deplete the account quickly.

  Did Lena’s decision not to pursue traditional methods of treatment have anything to do with money? Maybe she was worried about drawing from the fund because of Daniel’s mother’s condition.

  “Daed, have they said anything else to you about Mamm?” He didn’t think his father would be allowed to stay in the hospital room forever, but as Daniel eyed the blankets and pillows on the foldout chair and the empty bags of chips nearby, maybe he could.

  His father didn’t pull his attention from the television as he shook his head.

  Daniel took a deep breath. His father’s obvious loss of weight made him appear older than he actually was, and his failure to groom himself was getting worse each day. His gray-and-white-speckled beard looked like birds could be living in it, and his blue shirt was wrinkled like he’d slept in it, which he probably had.

  “We’re going to get a soda.” Daniel cleared his throat. “Do you want anything?”

  Their father shook his head again before Daniel led Annie out into the hallway.

  “We have to do something,” Daniel said once outside the door. “He hasn’t left this room, he hasn’t held his daughter, and I’m wondering how often he is bathing.”

  Annie pushed back wisps of brown hair that had fallen from her kapp. “I know. But you know how he is. He isn’t going to listen to us.” She touched Daniel’s arm. “Do you think we’re doing the wrong thing by not unplugging those machines? I used to not think so, Daniel, but now I’m wondering.” She blinked a few times. “I don’t think Mamm is going to wake up. I wish she could tell us what to do.”

  Daniel rubbed his chin. “Stay here with Daed for a little while. See if you can get him to eat something other than chips. I’ll have the driver take me to run an errand, then we’ll come back to get you.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the one person who might be able to help us work our way through this.”

  Andrea typed a text to Blake. You are a horrible person. A thief. And . . .

  She deleted the text for the third time, Charlotte’s words ringing in her head. As much as she wanted to please her sister, she was having a hard time not calling out Blake for what he’d done. Charlotte was running errands this morning, and the temptation to blast Blake kept coming and going.

  Andrea glanced at Bella. All clean, with a full tummy, and playing with the toys Charlotte had brought home for her. Then she looked at the jewelry she’d made today. Six pairs of earrings, two necklaces, and a bracelet. Charlotte had commented on all the pieces, saying what she loved about each one. Andrea had felt like crying as she swelled with joy. Someone cared about her enough to see the person she wanted to be.

  She set to making more jewelry. If Charlotte really thought the pieces might make some money, then Andrea was going to work hard to save enough money to pay her back the cash Blake had stolen. Maybe she’d sell enough jewelry to buy Charlotte an oven, so she could bake her bread and cake.

  Her heart warmed at the thought of doing something for her sister, which surprised and elated her. But niggling in her mind was something beneath the couch cushions that Andrea would have to take care of somehow. She hadn’t touched the five hundred dollars, but it gave her a sense of peace that it was there. Or a false sense of peace?

  She glanced around the room. How much would it cost to have electricity put in the house? Too tall an order, she decided. Besides, Charlotte didn’t seem interested in having power. She was more like her Amish friends than she’d admit, and Andrea didn’t mean just living without power.

  Daniel knocked on the front door of the King homestead. Amos answered the door holding Buddy.

  “Wie bischt, Amos.” Daniel shook the older man’s hand. “I was wondering if I could visit with Lena.”

  “Is it an urgent matter?” Amos set Buddy on the floor but didn’t invite Daniel in.

  “Um . . .” To Daniel it was urgent, but he wasn’t sure how to answer. “If she’s not well, I can come back another time.”

  Amos nodded. “Maybe another time—”

  “Step aside, Amos, and let the man in.” Lena came around the corner in a wheelchair, which Daniel wasn’t expecting. “I’m perfectly capable of having visitors, even in this mobile chair.” She smiled. “Come on in here.” She motioned with her hand, and Amos stepped aside so Daniel could go inside.

  “Let’s sit in the kitchen. I’ve got bread cooling on the rack and hot coffee that’s freshly percolated.” Lena rolled herself toward the kitchen, and Daniel followed behind her, unsure if he should offer to push her or not.

  “I’ll be reading in the bedroom.” Amos gave a quick wave before he headed off in the opposite direction with Buddy.

  “Sit, sit.” Lena motioned toward the table, then she stood and pulled two cups from the cupboard and filled them with coffee. Daniel took both cups of coffee, set them on the table, then sat down. Lena settled back into her wheelchair and joined him at the table. “I get tired easily. We had this mobile chair delivered yesterday, but I don’t use it all the time.” She pointed at the wheel of the chair, then she sighed, smiling again. Lena smiled a lot. Even now. “So, how is your mudder?”

  Daniel took off his hat, got up, and hung it on the hook by the kitchen door. “Sorry. I forgot about mei hat.” He cleared his throat. “Mamm is the same.”

  “I’m sorry, sohn. We pray for her daily, for God to take her home or for Him to open her eyes.”

  “I pray for that too.” He scratched the side of his face, wishing he’d thought out what he was going to say.

  Lena took a sip of her coffee and set her cup on th
e table. “Daniel, I’ve known you since you were born. But I can’t think of one time that you’ve come calling just to chat. So, child, what is on your mind?”

  He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, but the words weren’t coming.

  “Let me see if I can help you with this.” Lena tapped a finger to her chin. “I imagine that by now the hospital is putting a little pressure on your family, hoping you’ll soon make a decision about your mother’s condition. I saw other families dealing with such a situation while I was at the hospital in Houston having chemotherapy. Once a person was no longer considered curable, they were ready to make the bed available to someone who was. And now you’re here, wondering what I would do if I were in your mother’s situation. Am I right?”

  “Charlotte told me about the paper you asked her to sign. I hope that’s okay.” Daniel hoped he wasn’t betraying a confidence, but he was desperate to understand Lena’s mind-set.

  She nodded. “It’s a personal decision, Daniel.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps saying, but the one person who can and should make that choice isn’t able to.” He paused, diverting his eyes from hers. “Daed is opposed to taking Mamm off the machines. Annie and I were, too, in the beginning. But now we are watching both of our parents turning into people we don’t recognize.” Daniel fought the twitch in his jaw. “Daed hasn’t even held baby Grace.”

  “Ach, sweet boy. I see the pain in your eyes, and I feel it in your heart.” Lena reached over and put her hand on his. “But I can’t make this decision for you.”

  “I know.” He scratched the side of his face again. Lena removed her hand when he made the movement. “But I want you to tell me what you would do if you were in my mother’s situation.”

  “You are trying to trick me into making a choice for you.” Lena winked at him. “But I’ll bite.” She stared at him long and hard, the way a mother does with a child, and Daniel could almost feel his mother in the room with them. “I don’t want to be kept alive by machines. And I’ve given strict instructions related to that. I don’t feel it’s a decision that Amos could make. He’d keep me alive forever, even if”—she paused and took a deep breath—“even if . . . I was already gone.”