by Beth Wiseman
Daniel stiffened as he accidently pulled back on the reins, causing the horse to buck up on his hind legs for a couple of seconds. “Whoa, fellow.”
“I didn’t know Charlotte was getting baptized, especially not so soon.” Annie sniffled, then cleared her throat. “I’m guessing Daniel didn’t know either.”
“Nee, I didn’t.” Why hadn’t Charlotte told him? Then again, he hadn’t given her much opportunity.
“What is going on with you and Charlotte, Daniel?” Annie’s voice had a demanding tone, and he wasn’t in the mood to answer to his little sister. But he reined in his anger. Annie was hurting just as much as he was.
“I don’t know.” He made the statement strong and firm, hoping to end the discussion, which wasn’t always possible with Annie, but his sister stayed quiet.
Annie held Gracie close to her chest with her coat wrapped around the baby. She’d considered hiring a friend, an Englisch girl she knew, to keep Grace today since it had turned cooler, but someday when her baby sister was older, Annie would be able to tell her that she attended the funeral of the most wonderful woman who ever lived. The ceremony at the cemetery wouldn’t last long. Although this day would be etched into Annie’s mind forever. How was her family ever going to feel normal again?
Her father remained quiet and detached, but somewhere along the line Daniel joined him in a grief that seemed specific to the two of them. Annie’s heart was breaking, but she didn’t feel the need to abandon those she loved. And she was grateful to Jacob more than ever for being emotionally supportive and attentive to her and Gracie.
It angered her that her father and brother felt that it was acceptable to just check out. Life would go on, and it would be painful for all of them, but Annie wanted her mother to look down from heaven and see that her family was intact and handling their grief in a way that God would approve of.
As the buggies parked in a long line side by side, drivers hurried to tether their horses on the hitching posts, and tearful attendants shivered as they made their way to a grave already dug and waiting. Annie kept Grace close to her as Jacob kept an arm around her, guiding her to the area. Charlotte stood with Hannah and Isaac. Hannah’s chin trembled as she fought not to cry, but Charlotte was sobbing.
Annie wanted to go to Charlotte, but her place was with her family right now, so she followed Daniel, her father, and Aunt Faye to the gravesite. Daed sobbed openly, which only made Annie cry even more. She’d never seen him in such pain, and it was a hurt that seemed to latch on to him in a way that Annie feared he would never be the same. Her people were taught that this was a somber time, but it was also to be cherished as a loved one finally went home. She glanced toward Charlotte again, happy to see that Hannah had her arm around her.
Charlotte feared death. And the fact that it scared her bothered her even more. If she was as strong in her faith as she thought, then why the apprehension? It was a question that had bounced around in her mind recently, adding to her confusion about baptism.
She glanced around at the people present to say a final good-bye to Eve. They were her friends, and—she squeezed Hannah’s hand—if she left the community, she would be heartbroken. But it was more than that. This was where she’d found her faith and accepted God into her life. She couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, but in her vision of life here, Daniel had been in that picture. Now she wasn’t sure.
Bishop Miller read a hymn. Charlotte already knew there wouldn’t be any singing. And after a few words were said, everyone bowed their heads to say the Lord’s Prayer silently.
She looked up and caught Daniel staring at her, but he quickly looked away. What is going on with him? She wasn’t going to judge or speculate at a time when his grief was so intense, but it didn’t stop her heart from hurting, and she missed his nurturing ways. Maybe she’d relied on him too heavily in the past. Did he want her to be more independent? Why now?
As the service came to a close, no one lingered around the gravesite. The pallbearers would stay until the casket was lowered, and then they would fill the grave.
Charlotte felt a hand on her arm, and she turned to see Annie with the baby. “I’m so sorry, Annie.” She hugged her friend, then snuck a peek at Grace, who was mostly wrapped inside Annie’s coat. “She’s just beautiful.”
“Danki. She’s such a gut baby. She only cries if she’s hungry, wet, or tired.” Annie smiled. “I love her so much. Mamm would have loved her too.” Her eyes began to water, but she sniffled and regained composure. “Charlotte, I don’t know what’s wrong with my bruder. He seems to have slipped into a dark place and is acting like my daed. But please don’t give up on him. He might just need some time.”
Charlotte dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t know if I made him mad, but he won’t really talk to me.”
“I know. And I don’t understand him. But none of us are in our right minds now.” She looked toward her left at the line of people making their way back to the buggies. “I should go.”
Charlotte took a deep breath. “Can you tell Daniel that I love him?”
Annie smiled, nodding. “Ya, I will.” She leaned in for a hug, then Charlotte found Hannah and Isaac.
As they walked back to Isaac’s buggy, Charlotte searched for Daniel. When she finally found him, he had his head down and was walking fast.
He didn’t even speak to me.
Andrea played patty-cake with Bella for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. But once her daughter had learned how to play the game, she couldn’t seem to get enough of it, and Andrea loved to hear her giggle when they slapped hands and Andrea sang.
“Your aunt Charlotte is home.” Andrea set Bella on the floor and went to the door. Charlotte staggered up the stairs like she was drunk. Andrea doubted that was the case, but she opened the door and waited.
Charlotte’s eyes were red and swollen. Of course. She’d been at a funeral. But something else was wrong. Her sister was crying in a weird way, like an injured animal, sobbing like she was defeated and slumped over as she held the handrail and pulled herself onto the porch. When she looked at Andrea, she stood perfectly still except her shoulders moved up and down as she cried, tears streaming down her red face as she blew out bursts of cold air.
“Charlotte?”
She didn’t move, so Andrea walked closer. She put an arm around her. “Let’s get in the house where it’s warm. I kept the fire going and I’ll get you some hot tea or make some coffee.”
Andrea got her inside the house and helped her out of her coat. Charlotte usually beelined for Bella, but she just shuffled to her bedroom and closed the door. Bella looked at Andrea, then at the closed bedroom door. Even Bella seemed confused as she twirled a sliver of blonde hair in her fingers. Andrea laid with Bella on the couch for a nap. Then she tapped on Charlotte’s door. When she didn’t answer, Andrea opened the door.
Her sister was curled in a ball and lying perfectly still on her side. Her eyebrows were drawn in, her lips in a frown, as if she couldn’t rid herself of the pain even while sleeping. Charlotte had said she wasn’t particularly close to Eve, so Andrea assumed there was more to her sister’s emotional state than just the funeral. Most likely it was the distance Charlotte mentioned between her and Daniel.
Bella would sleep for at least an hour. Andrea eased onto the bed, curled up beside her sister, and draped her arm across her. “I love you.”
Charlotte’s hand moved, and she reached up and touched Andrea’s arm. “I love you too,” she said in a whisper.
Andrea lay there with her until Charlotte was lightly snoring.
Thursday morning Annie was cleaning the breakfast dishes when she heard racket coming from the living room. Drying her hands on her apron, she walked that way. Aunt Faye had packed her suitcases and had them at the bottom of the stairs.
“You’re leaving?” Annie’s voice probably sounded as panicked as she felt. Her father and Daniel did nothing but lounge around like lizards on a rock, neither of them making much ef
fort to do much of anything since the funeral. Aunt Faye was the only one who kept the tiniest sense of normality alive. Annie shook her head, blinking. Who would have ever thought that Aunt Faye would represent normal in any sense of the word?
“Yep. I’ve been called away.” Aunt Faye straightened her stance as she raised her chin. “Your cousin Mae needs my help.” She tapped a finger to her chin as she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Actually, she’s not your cousin. Well, maybe twice removed. Either way, Mae broke her leg, and she has four young children she needs help with. So I’m leaving.” She rolled her eyes. “Just call me Mary Poppins!”
Was there really another relative? It didn’t matter. “It’s almost Christmas. And . . . and what about Gracie?” And what about the lounging lizards who have gone back to bed after breakfast? Christmas was going to be hard enough without Mamm. Would Annie prepare a Christmas meal? What would she do about her father and Daniel?
Aunt Faye had a bright red scarf draped over her arm. She put it around her neck, then walked to the rack by the front door and retrieved her coat. After slipping it on, she walked back to Annie and touched her on the arm. “You are going to be just fine. I was willing to stay on when we thought this was a temporary situation.” She blinked teary eyes a few times. “But now you must adjust to a new situation and work toward making things feel normal again.”
“It’s never going to be normal again.” Annie hung her head, but Aunt Faye cupped her chin, forcing Annie’s gaze to hers.
“It might not seem like it now, but life will go on, and there will be a new normal for all of you. Your mamm would want that.”
Annie folded her arms across her chest. “What about Daed—and Daniel? Mei bruder seems to have fallen into his own dark hole.”
Aunt Faye sighed. “For two strong and capable men, they have withered into puny little slugs. People grieve, and they have a right to do so.” Aunt Faye started buttoning up her coat. “But they cannot do so in a way that affects the livelihood of others, especially you and Gracie.” She pointed an index finger at Annie. “So it is up to you to make them behave.”
Annie’s eyes widened. “Are we talking about the same Lucas Byler? Because I doubt I can force mei daed to do much of anything. And Daniel has always bossed me around, so I’m doubtful my older bruder will listen much to me either.”
“Annie, child . . .” Aunt Faye smiled. “I’ve watched you over the past weeks, the way you have nurtured Gracie, the way you’ve stayed calm and levelheaded, and the way you have made calculated decisions about you and Jacob. You aren’t the love-struck teenager you used to be. You have matured into a beautiful young woman.” She kissed Annie on the cheek, followed by a hug. “Keep God close at hand always.”
Her aunt pointed upstairs. “I’ve already said my good-byes to Gracie before she lay down for her nap. Daniel was sleeping just now, so I let him be.” She pointed toward the kitchen. “There are pickled oysters in the refrigerator. I regret not having shared my recipe with you before I leave, but that’s the way it goes.”
She turned toward the front door, carrying two suitcases. Annie followed her to the door.
“Your father knows I’m leaving today, but since he is sleeping, I’ll let him be as well.”
“This is awful,” Annie blurted out as she shook her head.
Aunt Faye smiled. “Only if you allow it to be.” She stomped a foot. “Take control of these men, Annie Byler!”
Annie put on her coat, then picked up the third suitcase and followed her aunt to the car. After the bags were loaded, Aunt Faye gave her a final hug. “You will be fine, dear.” She spun on her heel and waved over her shoulder. “I am in high demand, and I can’t be everywhere at once.”
Annie didn’t move as her aunt started up the old station wagon and pulled out of the driveway. She recalled her aunt’s response to Annie when she said this was awful.
“Only if you allow it to be.”
Twenty-Two
Charlotte left work early on Friday. In two days her life would be changing in a big way, a decision that had been brewing for a long time. As she pulled Big Red out onto the highway, her mind filled with excitement and trepidation. Sunday she would renounce the devil and commit her life to Christ—both of which she’d already done anyway. But she would be adding acceptance of the Ordnung to the commitment she’d be making.
She wouldn’t be permitted to cut her long hair, no matter how unruly it became. Her clothes would go to Andrea, and anything left over would be donated. She would put Big Red for sale, and with the money she would purchase a buggy and a horse. As she tightened her grip around the steering wheel, she wished she could just park her beloved truck on her property to have nearby. It was silly, her attachment to Big Red, but it was more than a mode of transportation to her.
Her cell phone would be for emergencies, according to Amish standards, but it was a widely abused privilege. Hannah had already given her dresses, aprons, and kapps. Charlotte had purchased short black socks and black leather shoes. She supposed giving up electricity, and everything that went along with it, might have proved a difficult adjustment, but Charlotte had already been living without those amenities.
But in all of her imaginings of her big day, Daniel had been with her, proud that she had taken this step through prayer and devotion, the first in a series of strides for them to have a life together. And now, she hadn’t even spoken to him since the funeral. She’d texted him and tried to call once, but no response.
Had he turned his phone off or just turned off any feelings for her? If so, how could a person do that, just shut off love?
She turned onto his street, her truck not even warm inside yet as she blew out clouds of cold air. Bundling up with a scarf and hat, she jogged to the front door and knocked.
Annie opened the door holding Grace. Her prayer covering was lopsided, her black apron covered in something white—flour, perhaps—and she was barefoot. She had dark circles underneath her eyes.
“Aren’t your feet cold?” Charlotte stepped into the living room. Her Amish friends were known to have immaculate houses, and the Bylers’ house had been no exception. Until now.
“Ya, ya. I need to go put some socks on, at least.” Annie glanced around the room. There were glasses, empty potato chip bags, and a bag of Almond Joy candy bars on the coffee table. On the couch were newspapers, a paper plate, and a pair of shoes. “Forgive the way our home looks.”
“Here, here.” Charlotte held out her arms to take the baby. “Get some socks on, then we’ll talk.”
Annie handed over baby Grace. “If you’re looking for Daniel, he’s upstairs . . .” Scowling, she clenched her fists. “. . . upstairs sleeping.”
“At four in the afternoon?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow as disappointment swept through her.
“Ach, trust me, there is no schedule around here. People eat when they want, leave their mess everywhere, and rarely do anything more productive than take a bath! And even that doesn’t happen on a daily basis.”
Charlotte rocked Grace in her arms as she took another look around the living room. “Where’s Faye?”
“She left. And she took any order she’d established with her!” Annie shook her head. “I’ll be right back.”
Charlotte lay Grace in the bouncy seat on the floor, then tossed a log on the fire, since it was mostly just glowing embers. She took off her coat, then warmed her hands as small flames caught onto the wood. Once she could feel her fingers, she coddled the baby in her arms again.
“Annie, I’m happy to help you clean up, or anything else you need help with,” Charlotte said as Annie walked back into the room with shoes and socks on, and she’d straightened her kapp and brushed the flour from her apron.
“I appreciate that, Charlotte, but then what? You have a life and can’t be expected to come over here every day to help. Nor would I ever ask that of you, or anyone.” Annie stepped closer to Charlotte. “These boys are out of control.”
/> Charlotte fought a grin since it seemed such an Englisch thing for Annie to say.
“But I know that’s not why you came by, to hear me moaning.” She smiled. “Sunday is the big day, ya?”
Charlotte nodded and smiled back at her, even though a part of her wanted to cry. She’d been nervous and anxious to talk to Daniel.
“I’ll go get Daniel.” Annie turned to head back to the stairs.
“No. I mean nee. Don’t do that. I don’t want you to wake him up.” Charlotte brought the baby up to her shoulder, rubbing her back.
“Are you sure?” Annie held her position at the base of the stairs.
“Ya, I’m sure.”
Annie smiled. “The Deutsch suits you well.”
Charlotte felt her face flush. “I still have a lot to learn.”
Annie walked back to her as Charlotte brought Grace from her shoulder and back into her arms. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Annie asked.
“She is precious.” Charlotte handed the baby to Annie, sensing she was ready to have her in her arms again.
“I’d be happy to go throw a glass of cold water on Daniel, if you’d like.” She smiled and winked at Charlotte.
“Nee, nee. Let’s not do that.”
Annie sat on the couch, motioning for Charlotte to do the same. In a whisper, she said, “Mei daed is in his bedroom. I don’t think he’s sleeping, and I hear shooting and yelling coming from in there.” Her eyes widened as she leaned closer to Charlotte. “I think he is watching cowboy and Indian movies on his phone.”
“Really?” Charlotte frowned. “But he’s been the one who disliked cell phones. I actually thought maybe he’d banned everyone in the house from using them.” She shrugged as she cast her eyes downward. “I haven’t heard from Daniel, so I didn’t know if maybe that was why.”
Annie’s gaze darted to her cell phone on the coffee table, partially covered by a paper plate. “Nee, there’s been no banning of the phone.” She raised her eyes to Charlotte. “I wondered if Daniel had talked to you . . .”
