by Beth Shriver
On their drive home Rudy stopped on campus to get a syllabus for a test he had later that week. He hopped out, but when Annie didn’t follow, he opened her car door. “Aren’t you coming?”
Annie scanned the area, met one girl’s eyes, and turned away. “Nee, I’ll wait here.”
Rudy crouched down and held on to a corner of the window for support. “If you’re not comfortable walking through campus, I can come back later.” But he acted put-out with the offer.
Annie let out a breath. What was worse—walking through a Mennonite campus or spending time alone with Essie? “I’ll wait.” And she did, for what seemed to be a long time. She fought to keep her mind steady and prayed for a vacant space. She needed a fruitful void, some place to let the Spirit come in to keep discouraging thoughts out.
On the drive home Rudy stopped at a strip mall and parked the car. “You want to go in?”
Annie scanned the huge cement building, countless cars, and people everywhere. “Nee, you go.”
“Wait here. I won’t be long.” He gave her what appeared to be a small smile and stepped out of the car.
But it was long, and Annie was almost angry by the time he got back. She’d never felt like such a burden. Tomorrow she’d figure out how to take the bus, like Essie did. She unlocked the door for him, and he handed her a bag as he slipped into the seat. “Here.”
Annie opened the bag to find an ankle-length denim skirt and bright-yellow shirt. She shut the bag. “I can’t.”
He put the car in gear and started for the agency. “You’re not on the farm, where you wear farm clothes. In Harrisonburg you wear street clothes,” he said, as if it were a written law.
She peeked into the bag and admired the blue etching around the collar of the shirt, imagining what it would look like on her. She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t mean you’ve changed into an Englisher, Annie.” He chuckled.
She hadn’t heard him laugh. It was nice to see his eyes sparkle and his smile, even if the reason wasn’t in her favor. “Why did you laugh?”
“Because you’re the most Amish person I’ve ever known.”
Annie took that as a compliment and looked at the clothes without intimidation.
As they walked to the same window they were at previously, Annie noticed the first lady they’d talked to was gone. Annie’s stomach rolled, hoping she hadn’t left for the day.
Rudy went up to the window and asked for the woman by name. The lady at the window directed Rudy to the door at the side and buzzed them in. The dull white walls and dirty tile floors were no better in the back area. Annie felt an instinctual urge to clean the place up a bit, or maybe a lot.
“Come this way.”
They followed the pink-fingernailed lady into a small office. She sat behind the desk and gestured to two chairs on the opposite side. Her nails clicked on the computer keys as she spoke. “The first objective of an adoption search is to discover the names of the birth parents who gave you up for adoption. I see you’ve written the name of a hospital and the agency who handled your adoption. That’s a start, but the more we have, the quicker we’ll find information. Do your parents or anyone else in your family have any insight that may be helpful?”
Annie’s skin crawled at the thought of asking her daed for anything about the adoption. He wouldn’t want to know she was inquiring for information
“No, they don’t know anything.” She looked down as she answered, not wanting to answer anymore similar questions.
“Can you ask them to contact government officials for documents, such as an amended birth certificate, petition for adoption, and the final decree of adoption?” She stopped typing and looked from Annie to Rudy.
Rudy spoke before Annie had to. “No, we can’t ask them to do anything.” He held Annie’s stare until she nodded her understanding then continued.
“With the information you’ve given me, we’ll search for nonidentifying information. It will be released to you and may include clues to help you in your adoption search. The amount of information varies depending upon the details that were recorded at the time of the birth and adoption.” She stopped talking and typing, corrected something on the screen, and went on.
“Each agency, governed by the state law and agency policy, releases what is considered appropriate and non-identifying, and may include details on the adoptee, adoptive parents, and birth parents such as”—she cleared her throat and pushed the keyboard aside—“medical history, health status, cause of and age of death, height, weight, eye and hair color, ethnic origins, profession, and religion. Do you have any questions?”
“What else can we be doing while we wait to hear the results of your search?” Annie moved to the front of her seat with paper and pencil, ready to write down anything that this woman said she could do.
The lady pulled out some papers from a file on the desk. “There are some registries you can plug in to. I’ll make a copy of this sheet for you. There’s one that matches people who might be looking for each other. Another is more of a support group, but they also help each other with information concerning new laws, search techniques, and other up-to-date information they’ve learned from their own personal experiences. There’s also a service that will help you search, for a fee, but I’ve heard they’re very successful.”
Rudy put up a hand to stop her. “What do they do that makes them successful?”
“Many states, including Virginia, have instituted intermediary or search consent systems to allow adoptees and birth parents the ability to contact each other through mutual consent. The Confidential Intermediary Program is given access to the court or agency file and, using the information, attempts to locate the individuals.”
“What happens if they find them?” Annie asked.
“The person found is given the option of allowing or refusing contact with the searching party. If the person located agrees to contact, the court will authorize the CIP to give the name and current address to us, and we will contact both parties.”
Annie caught her breath at the thought. “And then what?”
The lady smiled to one side. “Then one of you makes contact, or not.”
Annie frowned. “What do you mean by ‘or not’?”
“Sometimes people just want to know that the person is out there, but once they get the information, they never connect.” She shrugged.
Annie let that sink in but still didn’t understand why a person wouldn’t want to communicate with part of her family. “Danke. I appreciate you taking the time to explain all of this. It’s very complicated.”
The lady smiled. “You’re the first Amish I’ve had ask for this sort of assistance—any assistance, for that matter. I’m sure it’s a very unique situation, so I wanted to help.”
“Praise Gott.” Annie whispered so softly neither Rudy nor the lady noticed. “What’s your name?”
She stuck out her hand. “Sarah, Sarah Webb.”
The same as her mother’s. Annie’s eyes filled, and she blinked rapidly to keep her tears from spilling. She shook her hand. “Danke, Sarah Webb.”
Chapter Fourteen
SAWDUST SWIRLED AROUND John as battery-powered saws cut through long boards that would be the tall sides of the barn. He was one of three men carrying them to a group that placed the planks side by side, ready to be hammered into the frame they’d built that morning.
Another dozen boys wearing carpenter bags filled with hammers and nails would help pound nails into the board connecting with a beam. The men would follow behind them to make sure they finished the job correctly.
A third group spread out on the roof, placing tar paper on top. The scent of freshly cut wood filled the air as each man and boy worked at his task while the women prepared the food. Not one person stood idle; it was a swarm of busy activity, and John relished it. He secured the walls into place and then climbed down to fasten the boards of the roof.
He couldn’t count how many barn-r
aisings he’d done and dreamed of the day it would be his time. He had chosen the land and the direction the barn doors would face, leading out to the largest field of welschkorn his daed owned. Being the oldest, he’d pick his section of the property, leaving his younger brothers equal amounts.
Annie wanted a view of the hills, but he’d disagreed and chosen the valley. Now it seemed unimportant, and John wished he would have at least listened to her opinion before deciding. He wished a lot of things were different. One was telling her how much he appreciated her coming out to the fields during harvest or a barn-raising to bring him her lemonade. Some of the other girls did the same for their beaus, but no one made lemonade like Annie, or had her way. She put in extra lemon—not too much, to make it sour, but enough to give a good tang to quench the thirst. And Annie was not only appealing to look at; she was also mature and steadfast in her faith.
Another regret was waiting to ask her to court for the upcoming wedding season. When he thought back on it, they’d actually courted most of their lives. Because of this it was difficult to make them officially a couple, because they already were in his mind. Then, when Annie had found out about her birth mother, he’d felt sure he should wait, but he’d never regretted anything more in his life. Maybe affirming their intentions would have kept her at home or ensured her return.
Irene, the woman whose barn was being built, called to everyone. “Komm esse!”
They all stopped what they were doing. Tool belts unsnapped, the buzz of saws ceased, and hammers were silenced. All the men walked over to the dozen tables set up, lined with long benches. Soap, towels, and three tubs of water were set up to wash with before sitting down. The hot, sweaty men sat side by side, passing the food as quickly as they talked of their progress on the barn. The women bustled around, adding more dishes of potato salad, chicken, and Jell-O salad for the young ones.
Hanna came up beside John. “Save room for my pumpkin pie,” she said as she set the huge orange pastry in front of him. The chatter dulled as the men stared at the monster pie.
“This looks really good, Hanna,” David commented, and rightly so, as he had taken Hanna to singing in his buggy for a second time now. David took the knife to cut a slice.
Hanna grabbed the knife from him. “I’ll serve.” She cut two pieces and handed one to David after handing John a piece.
David eyed John, who ignored him, but John knew he could no longer put off having a conversation with Hanna. He needed to find out what she had going on in her head. This wasn’t the way things were done. The fact that Annie was out of sight didn’t mean she was out of his mind. Sometimes he thought he reflected on her even more than before. Maybe he’d taken her for granted, always having been there, and he secretly assumed she would be all his life. He’d never actually said the words to her.
The conversation picked up again, but John ignored the pie. Silly as it seemed, he didn’t want to appear as though he was partaking in the intense attention Hanna was giving him. Still, as he sat and watched the others eat, laugh, and talk about the chore ahead of them, he wondered if he was being overly sensitive.
“What do you hear from Annie?” David glanced at John as he asked. The others remained silent, waiting for John’s answer. “She has had a safe journey.” That was all he could say, because that’s all he knew. And no one had asked up to this point, so he hadn’t had to think through an answer.
David nodded, as did some of the others. The awkward moment passed quickly when David reached for his slice of pie. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He smirked at John and then stuffed a large bite in his mouth. “Have you ever had one of Hanna’s pies?”
John took his meaning to be that he knew Hanna, and she knew him, and not to interfere. But again, he could be reading into things that weren’t there. His guilt played games with him, making him insecure, something he was unfamiliar with.
“Nee, I don’t believe I have.” He took a long swig of tea, now diluted from melting ice. Although no one else was finished, John stood, ready to get back to work. Anything to get his mind off the Beiler girls.
Chapter Fifteen
LEVI TOLD ANNIE that Essie would give her a ride to the library the next day. Annie knew Rudy would probably be more help on the computer and microfiche, but she didn’t feel that much more comfortable with him than she did Essie.
As she descended the stairs, she heard the tap of a coffee mug hit the kitchen table and the clip of Jake’s paws on the wood floor. Levi lowered the paper when he saw her. “You’re up early. The library doesn’t open for a while yet.”
“It’s just habit. I’m used to getting up to do chores.” She sat with him and glanced at the headlines. A murder, something about the stock exchange, and sport scores seemed to be the most important events going on in the town of Harrisonburg.
“How’s Rudy’s room working out for you?” His gentle eyes crinkled as he asked.
“It’s very kind of him to give up his room for me.” She looked toward the brown plaid couch. “I just hope he’s sleeping all right.”
“He’s fine. He has the dog to keep him company.” Levi folded the paper and laid it in front of him. “How is the search going?”
With the way he gave her his undivided attention and studied her face, she felt he really cared, and she answered without hesitation. “The city search didn’t find any matches. I went back down and filled out the paperwork for them to run a state search, so maybe they’ll find something.”
He gathered his eyebrows together. “Did Rudy take you?”
She shook her head, hoping it was enough of an answer. The frown on his face told her he wasn’t happy with the situation, so she continued. “Elizabeth dropped me off on her way to work, and I took the bus home.”
His lips turned down. “I don’t want you taking the bus, Annie. You’re my responsibility while you’re here.”
“It wasn’t bad. After taking the bus here from home, I didn’t feel too uncomfortable.” She lied. Nothing about this place was comfortable, especially the transportation. She had developed a whole new appreciation for her four-hoofed friends back home.
Levi rubbed his callused hands together. “It is a straight shot from our house to downtown.” He let out a breath. “But I’d feel better if Rudy took you. He has time in between classes, so he can make it work.”
Annie didn’t want Rudy to take her anywhere unless he offered, and she didn’t think that was going to happen. And Essie was out of the question. She didn’t know of a person who made her more uncomfortable or out of place. “I hate to make him, though. I’m sure he has other things he’d rather be doing.”
Levi looked up abruptly. “Maybe so, but his first obligation is to you.”
“Okay, then. No more bus.” She didn’t mean that either but knew Levi wasn’t going to give in. He and Elizabeth meant well, but their children didn’t share their concern or hospitality.
He smiled, the same smile Rudy had the other day. “Something will turn up. You’d be surprised these days what they can find with even the smallest amount of information.” He glanced at his watch and scooted his chair out. “I’m off to work. Elizabeth will be down soon. She overslept a little. She’s a bit under the weather.”
Annie’s back straightened. “Ach. Well, does she need anything?”
“No, a hot shower and she’ll be fine. Probably just allergies.” He stopped at the garage door, keys in hand. “Good luck today, Annie.”
Annie thought about allergies as she searched for tea to make for Elizabeth. She couldn’t think of anyone she knew who’d ever had them and wondered what the cause was. Or maybe they’d had them and didn’t know it. Whatever the case, Annie couldn’t find the tea and didn’t want to pry into any more cabinets than she already had.
Rudy’s head popped up from behind the couch. “Morning.”
Annie started the fire under the kettle. She rationalized using the gas stove to assist someone who was ill. It was her only way of heating the water.
“Good morning, Rudy. Can you tell me where the tea is?”
He pointed to the pantry, and she found it as soon as she opened the door. He scratched his head and put on a T-shirt that draped over his sweatpants. “What are you doing today?”
She took advantage of the opportunity, hoping he would see her need for transportation without having to ask. “Since we haven’t found anything on your computer, one of the sites suggested going to the library to find records.”
“Essie can take you after she drops me off at my morning class.” He reached for the coffeepot. “It’s not the best solution, but we only have one car between us.”
Annie handed him a mug of tea and made one for Elizabeth. “That’s fine. I’ve taken too much of your time these past few days.”
That much was true. He was diligent about his classes and studying, and she knew her schedule was stretching him. He was quiet too long—long enough that Annie thought she’d upset him.
“If things fall through with Essie, let me know.” He set down his cup. “I’m gonna shower.”
Annie nodded and held her mug with both hands for warmth. She watched him climb the stairs and soon heard the shower running and Essie’s loud voice complaining that she needed the bathroom.
A few minutes later Essie came into the kitchen. She looked past Annie and opened the refrigerator. “What are you looking at?” She took out the milk and poured some cereal.
“When will you be ready?”
Squinting, Essie slowly lifted her head. “You’re joking, right?” She took a huge bite of cereal. Drops of milk splashed from her lips into the bowl.
“Rudy said you could take me after you drop him off.” Annie shifted her weight, hoping she’d say yes and avoid a standoff.
Essie took a couple more bites of cereal, crunching loudly. “Okay, but not in those clothes.” Essie pointed at her with her spoon.
Annie looked down and thought of the clothes Rudy bought for her. It seemed to be the only solution. “Okay, I’ll go change.”
