by Beth Wiseman
“Take all the time you need.”
Charlotte could feel an onslaught of tears trying to come on again. She wiped beneath her eyes with her fingers, then pulled back onto the road. When they got to the entrance of Ethan’s driveway, Charlotte cut the engine. They got out to walk the rest of the way, hoping to go unnoticed if someone was inside.
“This is probably so stupid,” she said as they followed the flashlight Daniel kept pointed at the ground.
Daniel latched onto her hand and squeezed it three times. Charlotte knew what that meant in her world. But did it mean the same thing to him? She reminded herself not to lead him on, even though she cared about him a lot. But were she and Daniel as star-crossed as Annie and Jacob when it came to matters of the heart? There was a spark between them, no doubt.
“Do you want me to go in first?” Daniel asked when they reached the front yard. “There’s a light coming from inside, Charlotte. It looks like it’s coming from the bedroom. Maybe you should wait out here.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No. I’ll go too.”
They walked the rest of the way across the yard and tiptoed up the porch steps, and Charlotte reached for the doorknob. “It’s locked.”
Daniel took the key from his pocket and put it in the lock.
Charlotte’s head spun, and she felt like everything was moving in slow motion as they stepped over the threshold and fumbled their way through the living room, inching toward the bedroom, which had gone dark. Daniel stayed beside her, holding the flashlight, the only potential weapon they had if they needed it. And would Daniel even use it to protect them? The Amish avoided fighting at all costs. But when he stepped in front of her, shielding her from danger, she knew he’d do whatever it took to protect her.
He shined the flashlight around the bedroom as Charlotte peeked around him. Her eyes landed on a few Fruit Stripe gum wrappers, a Dr Pepper can, and . . . a syringe. No drawings or doodles. And no person.
She started to tremble. The gum wrappers and soda can—along with the star sketches Daniel had described before—could all be a coincidence. But someone had been here. Daniel continued to shine the light around the room.
“Maybe the person moved to another part of the house,” Daniel whispered.
Charlotte nodded toward the closet door, where she was pretty sure she’d heard a movement. Daniel opened the door, and a flashlight clicked on and someone lurched toward him, then past him. But Daniel caught the woman’s arm before she reached Charlotte, keeping a firm hold on her.
“Let me go! I have a right to be here!” The woman wiggled, her flashlight throwing shadows around the room. She kicked at Daniel, trying to free his hold.
“Janell?” Charlotte’s legs turned to jelly as her heart rate sped up. She couldn’t move.
The woman stopped struggling, even though Daniel still held tightly to her arm. “How do you know my name?”
It had been at least ten years since Charlotte last saw Janell, but no amount of speculating could have prepared her for this. Janell was a tiny bag of bones, pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She was dressed in blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Her dark hair hung almost to her shoulders, tucked behind her ears and speckled with more salt than pepper. Thinning lips gave way to sunken cheeks.
Charlotte had thought about what she’d say to Janell a hundred times, but she couldn’t formulate a sentence now.
“What do you want? I said I have a right to be here.” She peered at Charlotte. “Do I know you?”
Charlotte recalled all the times she’d seen Janell smacking on fruity gum and drinking Dr Pepper. Sometimes she’d doodle stars until she passed out. She glanced at the needle on the floor. If Janell had been shooting up anything back then, Charlotte couldn’t remember. But she remembered Janell’s other habits. Memories. Selective, perhaps.
“I knew the man who lived here,” Janell spat at Charlotte. “It’s fine for me to be in his house.” She nodded toward the needle, gum wrappers, and soda can. “And that’s not my stuff.”
Charlotte recognized on Janell’s face the pitted sores of a meth user, along with her discolored, rotting teeth and dilated eyes. She remembered the look of a methamphetamine addict from her time in foster care, long before the illegal drug became widely popular.
“Can you tell this brute of an Amish man to let go of me?” Janell tried to pull away again, but Daniel held on to her until she quit struggling.
“Janell, do you know who I am?” Charlotte prayed for strength, for the right words, and for her legs not to give out.
Janell rolled her eyes. “I haven’t a clue.”
Charlotte didn’t try to stop the tear that rolled down her cheek. Something about not being recognized by her own mother was too much to bear. “Janell. It’s me. Charlotte.” Face the demons. Memories bubbled to the surface, recollections that were best left in the dark recesses of Charlotte’s mind.
Janell smiled. She was missing a tooth about a third of the way back on the upper left. “My Charlotte?” she said in a whimper as her body went limp. Daniel let go of her arm, but he stayed by Janell’s side as Charlotte’s mother took a step toward her. “My baby girl, Charlotte?”
“I’m not a little girl anymore.” And I wasn’t the last time you saw me either. Charlotte remembered a time when she’d called Janell “Mom,” but even in her thoughts, the woman was Janell, someone unworthy of the title. An abusive drunk who’d lost both of her children for a while, then later stepped out of their lives completely. Charlotte assumed that her anger at her parents would direct her actions if she ever saw either one of them and drive her to a hysterical display of emotion. But as she stared at the woman in front of her, all she felt was pity. Charlotte wondered if she should have made attempts to find Janell sooner, like her therapist had suggested—if not for Charlotte’s own good, for Janell’s. She could come up with a hundred reasons why the answer to that question was no.
When Janell walked toward her with outstretched arms, Daniel moved along with her, but Charlotte took a step backward.
Janell stopped, lowered her arms to her sides, and started to cry. “You are my beautiful baby girl, Charlotte. You are my child, my flesh and blood. My daughter.” She smiled through her tears.
Janell slowly moved toward Charlotte, and this time Charlotte didn’t move when Janell wrapped her arms around her. But Charlotte kept her arms at her sides, trying not to gag from the smell of an unwashed body.
Janell eased away, and her smile faded until there was no expression left on her face. “Ethan is dead. He killed himself.”
Charlotte glanced at Daniel, then back at Janell. “Yes, I know.”
Janell picked at a spot on her cheek. “Your father is dead too. Shot in the head in a barroom brawl. At least that’s what I heard.”
Charlotte hugged herself tightly, hung her head, and cried. Probably not the way anyone wanted to learn of their father’s death, no matter how bad a guy he was.
“I’m surprised you have any tears to spare for him,” Janell said, sniffling. “After the way he treated us and all.” She moved to another spot on her face and poked at it with her finger, her nails bitten to the quick.
Charlotte rubbed her thumbs against her own chewed nails. What about the way you treated us?
“So, how are you, Charlotte? Do you and Ethan spend a lot of time together?”
Charlotte looked at Janell. “What?”
“I think it’s so good when siblings stay close.”
Charlotte looked at Daniel, who was standing within an arm’s reach behind Charlotte’s mother, but he shrugged, a pained expression on his face. Charlotte looked back at the woman who had given birth to her and her brother. “Ethan is dead. Remember?”
Janell’s eyes grew wide, and she began picking at her face until it bled. “My boy is dead?”
Charlotte nodded.
Janell covered her face with her hands and sobbed. “My Ethan is dead.” She uncovered her face and gasped. “Did you kill
him?”
Charlotte had known people who’d abused meth. This was starting to look like more than a drug addiction. She’d been praying constantly, but right now, Charlotte needed God to be here, in this room, with her. She needed Him to hold her up and to show her the way. “Lord, give me strength. No, Janell, I did not kill Ethan.”
Janell smiled. “I am so glad to hear that. And it makes me happy to hear you talk to God. I talk with God all the time.” She shook her head, frowning. “I don’t think He hears me.”
Charlotte swiped at her eyes, sniffled, and looked at the floor where Daniel had the flashlight pointed, wondering if the darkness in her heart would be replaced by light now that she was facing her demons.
“He hears you, Janell.” Charlotte held out her hand. Slowly Janell took it, her hands rough like a ninety-year-old woman’s might be. “This isn’t a good place for you to stay. Let’s go get you cleaned up, and we’ll find somewhere better.”
Janell shuffled barefoot alongside Charlotte, holding her hand. Daniel got in step behind them.
“Is Ethan coming?” Janell asked as they crossed through the living room.
“No, Mom.”
Seventeen
It was three in the morning when Charlotte dropped Daniel off at home. They’d said very little to each other after they’d left Janell at the rehabilitation facility. Charlotte was exhausted, and she knew Daniel must be, too, even though he never complained. He had stayed by Charlotte’s side through every step of the process: the paperwork, evaluations, and questions. He had also endured the intolerable smell in the truck as they drove her from one hospital to the next until they found a place that would take her with no insurance.
Eventually she was accepted at a state-run agency for people who were mentally ill, but it would also be a place to wean her body off the drugs she’d taken for so long. But it was only a month-long program. Charlotte would try to find a more permanent solution after she had some time to think. But Janell’s temporary home wasn’t a lock-in facility. Janell could walk out anytime she wanted, even though she’d promised Charlotte she would stay.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you,” Charlotte said to Daniel as she pulled into his driveway.
“No thanks required.” He smiled, but tired gray eyes looked back at her, and Charlotte knew his mind was filled with questions. They’d held hands, and Charlotte had clung to him, even completely broken down in his arms once they’d left Janell.
Charlotte hugged him bye and kissed him on the cheek, lingering in his arms for longer than she probably should have. After trying to assure him that she would be okay, they parted ways. She managed to get back in the house without waking up Buddy and made her way upstairs, falling on the bed in her clothes. She buried her face in her pillow and wept as quietly as she could, hoping not to wake up Hannah.
After a few hours of sleep and a bath, she went downstairs and tearfully told Lena, Amos, and Hannah about her mother.
“So my mother is at a psychiatric hospital for a month until I can figure out what to do with her. And apparently, my father is dead.” She glanced at each of them. Hannah was dabbing at her eyes. Amos was staring at the floor. Lena walked from where she’d been standing, sat down on the other side of Charlotte, and pulled her into her arms.
“Sweet maedel, everything is going to be all right. We are here for you.” She eased away from Charlotte, brushed back the hair from across her face, and kissed her on the cheek.
Charlotte nodded, crying harder. “I don’t know what I’d do without any of you.” She glanced at Amos, but he was still looking down. Charlotte wondered if Amos would ever open his heart to her again.
She took a deep breath. “The lady at the hospital said they’d assign us a social worker. Since Janell isn’t a resident of Pennsylvania, I don’t know what type of state-funded options might be available to us.” Charlotte recognized that she was using the word us, which seemed strange in light of the situation. “I guess I’ll just take things one day at a time.” She shrugged. “Who knows if Janell will even stay in rehab.”
“Where’s she been living when she wasn’t staying in Ethan’s house?” Hannah asked.
“I can’t get many straight answers, but it sounds like she bounced from one person’s place to another, wherever she could find to lay her head. She’d found out only recently that Ethan died. I don’t know how or from whom, but she said she felt called by God to come here. I don’t believe that. I think she probably came to see if she had any rights to anything he owned. She said she hitchhiked. I don’t know if I believe that either. She had two hundred dollars in her purse, which is odd. But it takes money to buy drugs.” Charlotte had her theories about how Janell had been surviving, but she’d said enough. “There were two original keys to the house. One was under the mat, and Janell found it and kept it, admitting she sometimes forgot to lock the door.”
“Isaac used to leave a key under the mat so his workers could come in on days he wasn’t there. Maybe he forgot and left a copy there,” Hannah said. “I remember that because it was hard having the key made. It’s an old-timey key or something.”
“Yeah. That’s the reason the real estate company couldn’t put a lockbox on the door.”
“I’m so glad you decided to move here.” Hannah crossed her hands over her chest, smiling. “We can help you take care of your mother, Charlotte.”
Charlotte’s eyes darted to Amos again. He was staring past Charlotte, as if deep in thought. She turned to Lena. “I don’t know when or why, but somewhere in this mess, I’ve decided I want to take Ethan’s house off the market. I don’t know what the future holds. If my mom is willing, she needs long-term rehab. But I need to stand on my own, too, absorb Jesus’ strength, and . . . something about selling Ethan’s house doesn’t feel right anymore.” She’d gotten a couple of checks, and she was more productive here. After the dust settled, and if she ever felt a sense of normalcy again, she’d hit social media hard to try to round up more editing jobs. “When I can afford it, I’ll have electricity installed.”
Lena smiled. “I think you’ve been doing very well here without electricity, and we surely have lanterns and other necessities to get you started. But this is not a time for making big decisions,” Lena said. “The situation with your mother requires your immediate attention. Everything else will work out, all in God’s perfect time.”
Charlotte thought about how the events of her life were unfolding. What would have happened if things had gone any other way? When Ryan broke up with her, she’d begged God for another chance with him, even though it was surely best that they didn’t reconcile. Charlotte had considered herself unworthy of love, assumed God wasn’t hearing her prayers. She was learning to trust Him more as her life took twists and turns that she didn’t always understand. She recalled all the prayers she’d said for Daniel, grateful he’d been praying for her too.
“You can stay here as long as you’d like,” Lena said with all the love and comfort of a mother. Charlotte glanced at Amos, waiting for a reaction from him, but his head was down.
“You’ve all been through so much with Jacob. I don’t want to be a burden or cause more drama in your lives. And besides, I think it will be good for me to be on my own.”
Lena’s expression fell. “We are sad about Jacob, and we say extra prayers that he will find his way onto God’s intended path for him, no matter what that might be. But you bring joy into our lives.”
Charlotte smiled. “I’ll still be close by.” She still couldn’t believe that her mother was back in her life.
“As you wish,” Lena said. “Hannah and I must go make some deliveries to a few of the shut-ins in our area. We started baking early this morning and have everything packed in the kitchen. Do you want to come with us, or would you prefer to rest?”
“Actually, I think I’ll lag behind if that’s okay.”
Charlotte helped Hannah and Lena load their buggy and told them again that she’d be fine. And it
was the truth. She felt like load-bearing walls had been crumbling around her for years, crushing her a little bit at a time. But when the ceiling finally came down, threatening to flatten and destroy her for good, she was suddenly infused with a superpower that had given her the strength of Job. And there was only one superpower, God the Father. Thank You, Lord.
When she went back into the house, Amos and Buddy had disappeared into the bedroom. Charlotte found her purse and left to go see Daniel, knowing he didn’t have to work on Saturdays. But running an Amish farm often required lots of chores even on weekends. She’d tried to call, but no one answered. Again, she assumed the cell phone usage was returning to normal for her Plain friends.
Daniel was coming out of the barn, wiping his hands on a rag, when she pulled up. He hurried toward her, and as Charlotte flung the truck door open, her legs carried her straight into his arms. Their embrace lasted awhile before Charlotte eased away. “Sorry. I—I just wanted to see you. I just . . .” She blinked a few times.
Daniel touched her cheek tenderly, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m glad you came. And we don’t have to figure everything out right this minute.” He eased his hand away and smiled.
She didn’t have any regrets about getting to know him. Her growing feelings for him scared her, but over the course of her young life, she’d been scared plenty of times, and she was beginning to believe she was braver than she ever imagined. “That’s what Lena said, that I don’t have to figure everything out right now. But I have decided to take Ethan’s house off the market, then clean it top to bottom before I start moving my things in.”
