Susan filled a small cup, keeping her eye on the front door. Someone always had a way of showing up when they tried to take a break. They would then place an order and nestle down for a long stay at the tables. She didn’t feel comfortable sitting again until the customer had gone, and her coffee was usually cold by then. Laura could sit when customers were inside, chatting away—but then she owned the bakery.
Susan added cream and a dash of sugar. Not too much, just enough to take the bite off the taste of the coffee. Too much sugar, her daett often said, and you couldn’t taste the coffee. “Why drink it then?” he would ask and smile at the power of his own logic. It’s funny that this morning thoughts of Daett are coming, she thought. But they were here, and she allowed them to come. Would Daett approve of the new dress? Not likely.
But she would never wear it around him. Her Amish dresses would stay stashed upstairs in the apartment closet. The dresses would be there for when she visited home. There would be no sense in causing her mamm and daett undue sorrow if she did return.
The door opened behind her. Likely a couple of older ladies who would dawdle for an hour while ice crystals gathered on her coffee. Forcing a smile she turned to greet whoever it was, catching the eye of the same young woman who had been in twice before. Today she was wrapped in a thick coat that failed to hide her advancing pregnancy.
“Good morning,” Susan said, setting her coffee out of sight behind some canisters. “What can I get for you?”
For some reason, the girl seemed frightened…confused. She said nothing.
Susan remembered that before the girl had taken only a small cup of coffee, staying to chat only briefly before leaving.
“Do you want the usual?” Susan smiled. “A small cup of coffee, right?”
The girl was trembling, but managed to say, “I can’t buy coffee this morning, but I need to speak with you. Right bad, ma’am.”
“You want to speak with me?” Susan asked. What could this pregnant girl possibly want with me? she wondered.
“How can I help you?” Laura asked, getting up. “Susan only works here, but if there is a problem with our service, you can speak with me.”
The girl glanced between the two women. She looked ready to run. One hand was draped over her swollen stomach, the other grasped the edge of the counter.
Susan gasped as one of coffee canisters teetered. She jumped forward, grabbing it before it crashed to the ground.
“Are you hungry?” Laura asked. “If you don’t have any money, I’ll give you rolls and coffee. Would you like that?”
The girl ignored Laura, her eyes focused on Susan’s face.
“Please ma’am,” she said, speaking to Susan. “I beg of you. Will you help me? I have no one else I can turn to. You have been so nice to me the other times I was in here.”
“Come, darling.” Laura took the girl’s hand, trying to lead her toward a table. “What’s your name, dear?”
“I don’t want to give my name. I want that lady’s help.” The girl was clinging to the counter.
“No one can help you if we don’t have your name,” Laura said, trying again.
The girl stayed by the counter.
“I have to have help!” she moaned. “I love the child too much.”
Susan moved closer. Perhaps I can help the girl—but how? “I’ll talk to her,” Susan said to Laura. She took the young woman’s hand just as the door opened behind them.
“I’ll take care of the customer then,” Laura whispered. “Take her to a table.”
The girl went willingly, walking ahead of Susan but keeping a grip on her hand. Waiting while the girl took her coat off, Susan draped it over a chair. She placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder while she slid into a chair.
Taking a seat across the table, Susan offered the girl a smile.
The young woman’s troubled gaze went around the room, but she was breathing easier now.
“So, what is your name?” Susan asked. “I’m sure it’s pretty.”
The girl laughed for the first time, but the sound was harsh.
“There’s not much left of it, ma’am, pretty or not,” the girl said.
Susan waited and then touched the woman’s arm. “Is it the baby? Are you still having trouble with the baby?”
The girl leaned in closer, ignoring the question, a slight smile on her face. “It’s Teresa Long, ma’am.”
“Teresa,” Susan repeated. “That’s such a nice name.”
“As you can see, I’m with child,” Teresa said.
“Your husband, does he know you are here?” Susan asked.
Teresa looked up and grabbed Susan’s arm with both hands.
“I have no husband. But I know you can help me because you’re Amish, aren’t you? You said so when I was here before.”
Susan nodded. “Yah, I am. But what can I do for you?”
“I know how holy the Amish people are,” Teresa said slowly. “So please don’t throw me out until you hear what I have to say.”
“We won’t throw you out, Teresa. Do you need help with the birth?” Susan asked, stroking the woman’s hands that clutched her arm. “I’m not a midwife, but perhaps Laura knows someone who can help… with the cost and all. I could give some—a little money, but not much.”
Her bank account was almost empty, depleted by last night’s purchases. Susan started to get up. Her purse was in the back office.
“Please don’t leave!” Fright flashed across Teresa’s face. “I know I am a bad girl in the eyes of the Amish, but it’s of my child I’m thinking.”
Nothing Teresa was saying made sense, but Susan sat down again. Laura was almost done with her customer. Perhaps she would understand what Teresa wanted. “Where do you live, Teresa? Do you have enough food?”
“It’s not that, ma’am.” Teresa’s eyes fixed on the street outside. “Charlie says I have to get an abortion. That there’s still time, even now. He says he can find someone.”
So that’s the problem! The young woman is faced with the choice of killing her child, pressured into a choice she didn’t want. She needs help to find a way out. “You don’t have to kill your baby,” Susan told her. “I’m sure we can help. Laura will be done soon, and we can talk to her.”
Teresa shook her head. The bakery door opened, and a man walked in holding a small girl’s hand. Teresa’s eyes turned to look, but quickly returned to Susan. “If I do what Charlie wants, they will kill the child. God knows I couldn’t take that.”
“You don’t have to!” Susan said. “Really, you don’t.”
“Charlie has left me—until I get an abortion.”
“God doesn’t want you killing your child, Teresa. You don’t have to listen to Charlie.”
Across the room the man was selecting the pastries he wanted, allowing the little girl to pick her own. It would be a few moments at least before Laura could come over.
Susan caught a glimpse of her coffee behind the canisters. It would be cold by now.
“That’s what I want,” Teresa said as she tapped Susan on the arm and pointed with her chin toward the man and girl.
“What?” Susan turned to look.
“The life they have,” Teresa said. “Look how he loves her! But that’s not usually found in my world. And it never will be. I need someone to take my child. To raise him in a godly home.”
Susan let out a deep breath. “God is able to do miracles for anyone!”
“He can?” Teresa’s eyes lit up.
Susan nodded. This young woman was living far from any life she knew, but Susan knew the girl’s heart must yearn for God. They were different people, and yet the same in ways that were hard to understand.
“Then you will do it?” Teresa asked.
Susan felt the woman’s fingers digging into her arm. “Do what, Teresa?” she asked.
“Take my baby as your own! Take him to be raised in Amish country. Where he doesn’t have to grow up to be the kind of person I am.”
&nbs
p; CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Susan looked out at the street through Laura’s big glass window, the roar of the automobiles loud in her ears. What had Teresa just said? That she wants to give me the baby? Wants me to take it back to the community? That’s not possible! And I can’t take care of a baby! Besides, I barely know this woman.
“Please!” Teresa said, her voice seeming to come from far off.
“But you don’t even know me!” Susan exclaimed, looking into Teresa’s eyes. “And, Teresa, I came here to get away from my Amish community. I’m not really Amish anymore.”
The tears now running down Teresa’s cheeks were shimmering rivers that caused Susan to grasp Teresa’s hand even tighter. Where is Laura? she thought desperately.
“I want my child to have a chance in life,” Teresa was saying. “There are no chances around here. There is no hope in my life—nor will there be in his if he stays here.”
“But there is always hope,” Susan said. “We have to believe in God and do what’s right. Even I have to move ahead with hope. Right now I’m working on my GED.”
Teresa shook her head. “You don’t understand. You and me, we’re not in the same world. The things you hope for are not the things I can hope for…here.”
“There must be some other way I can help you,” Susan said. “I’m a good listener. Would that help? I live in the apartment above the bakery. You could come by and we could talk. I can do that.” Even as she said it, Susan knew how lame such an offer must sound to Teresa.
“You’re more than kind, ma’am, as I expected you would be. But it’s my child I have to think about. I have to make plans for him before he comes. And it can’t be that long now.”
“Have you seen a doctor?” Susan asked.
Teresa laughed. “I’ve been to the few doctor’s visits the state helps out with. I don’t have any money for a doctor myself. And my mom barely brings in enough food for us to eat. I lost my job at the gas station since I’m showing big now.”
Susan stroked Teresa’s arm. What else could she say? The mountain this girl had to climb was certainly larger than any she had ever experienced.
“You will help me with the child then?” Teresa asked.
Hasn’t the girl been listening? “Are you talking about adoption?” Susan asked.
“Yes, adoption,” Teresa said. “I will sign any papers you want. I never need to see the child again. Whatever it takes I’ll do, but he has to be in good hands.”
“Maybe Laura will know how to handle this,” Susan said.
Teresa shook her head.
Susan caught Laura’s attention when the customer left and motioned with her eyes to come.
Laura moved toward them.
“Surely there are good-hearted people around here who want to adopt children,” Susan said.
“No.” Teresa leaned forward. “It has to be an Amish home. If you can’t take him, perhaps you know someone who can from your community. I don’t know any other Amish, so you are my only chance. They said on TV that the Amish are closed communities. Nobody can get in from the outside, but you’re already in, ma’am. And the chance that I should meet you, right when I needed it the most—now that’s a miracle from God. Didn’t you say God works miracles?”
“Yes, He does!” Susan whispered. But how am I supposed to take an Englisha child and expect an Amish couple to adopt him? And what about the government red tape and expense? And who among my family would want the child? None of my sisters had problems conceiving. All their children were considered blessings, but more would be too much.
“Are the two of you having a nice chat?” Laura asked, laying her hand on the young woman’s shoulder.
Teresa smiled and nodded.
“I need to talk to you, Laura.” Susan got up. “Will you wait here, Teresa?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Teresa said.
“So the girl’s name is Teresa,” Laura said as they walked back to the office.
“Yes, and she’s in a lot of trouble.” Susan closed the door behind them. “She wants someone to adopt her baby. Well, really, she asked if I or an Amish couple would take the child. Apparently she has a high opinion of Amish people and doesn’t want the child to grow up to live like she does.”
“The poor girl,” Laura said. “At least she’s making some good choices. Abortion would have been an easy option for her, I’m sure. The government goes out of its way to see to that.”
“So what do we do?” Susan asked. “It’s too much for me alone, but we can’t just send her back out on the street, can we?”
“No, we can’t,” Laura agreed. “Do you think she’d be willing to visit the Crisis Pregnancy Center? I don’t have close ties to the one run by the Catholic diocese, but our church supports it.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll ask. That sounds better than Teresa’s idea. I mean, Indiana is a long way from here.”
“She’ll need care either way,” Laura said. “Did she say whether she’s had medical attention yet?”
“She’s been to a doctor a few times. What the state supplies, she said.”
“That’s at least something,” Laura said. “I guess you’re getting to see the underside of Asbury Park. First, the murders and now this.”
“I’ll ask her about the Crisis Pregnancy Center then,” Susan said. “I think I heard a customer come in.”
“This girl may be delusional,” Laura said as they walked back. “I’m not sure how seriously you should take what she says.”
“She’s been in here before,” Susan said. “And she seemed to be looking for something then too.”
“Susan, I think it would be a good idea if you walked her home. See where she lives. Look into what the conditions are. Make friends with her, and we’ll take it from there. Okay? She can’t live far if she walked.”
“Go with her? Right now?” Susan asked.
“Yes, now.”
“There is the bell again,” Susan said. “What about the bakery? You’ll be here by yourself and customers are coming in.”
“Sometimes life calls with greater duties, dear. The customers can form a line if they want to. I’m sure you can make it back before the lunch rush.”
“I’ll hurry,” Susan said, opening the office door. Two people were waiting at the counter. Laura went out and greeted them immediately, while Susan slipped back to the table, this time sliding into the chair next to Teresa.
“Teresa, what you’re asking isn’t easy. There are a lot of things that must be done. And thinking of your baby’s care is the first thing. Would you like me to come home with you right now? You can show me where you live. We can take you to a doctor later for a checkup. That’s very important you know.”
“I can show you where I live,” Teresa said. “It’s just across the tracks.”
“Don’t you know the name of the street?” Susan asked.
Teresa didn’t answer right away. Finally she said, “We’re not really supposed to be living there, so we have to be careful.”
Susan stood. “We can talk more on the way.”
“I guess so,” Teresa said, sliding out from the table and getting to her feet.
Susan held the door open for her and guided her outside.
“This way,” Teresa said, motioning to the west.
They crossed at the stoplight, passing the diner where Duane had treated Susan to lunch. That seemed like another world at the moment.
Teresa held one hand on her stomach and hung on to Susan’s arm with the other. “He just kicked real hard!” Teresa said with a big smile. “I think he likes you. That will help a lot, won’t it! Make things much easier. I hope he remembers a little bit about me though. Do you think he will? Even when I give him away? He’s still part of me, isn’t he?”
“He’s very much a part of you,” Susan agreed. “And perhaps you don’t have to give him up. Perhaps we can talk with the father and persuade him to take care of the two of you.”
Teresa laughed. “If you take my
baby boy to Amish country, that will be enough of a miracle for me.”
“How do you know the baby’s a boy?” Susan asked. “You keep referring to him as ‘he’.”
“I’m his mother…duh,” Teresa said.
“I didn’t know mothers could tell,” Susan said. “I’ve never had a child.”
“They might not all know, but I know it’s a boy,” Teresa assured her. “If I’m wrong, I’ll be really surprised.”
“I have eight married sisters with children. I wonder if they knew,” Susan said. “They never mentioned anything.”
They turned another corner, moving further away from the main streets of Asbury Park. They were approaching the railroad tracks.
“Eight sisters did you say? And all of them married?” Teresa asked.
“Yah,” Susan said. What did it matter if yah slipped out now? Teresa would like the touch of Amish.
“I knew you were a holy people,” Teresa said. “Just like I’ve seen on TV. I want my son to grow up like that. It’s much better than how I’m living.”
“I’m sure God can make things right for you,” Susan said as they crossed the railroad tracks. The quality of the buildings ahead of them was decreasing compared to the buildings downtown.
“God is taking care of me,” Teresa said. “Even though I sinned. Whoever would have thought I’d meet an Amish woman in Asbury Park? And one who will take care of my son. I know my boy will grow up to be a great man of God. Perhaps he’ll come and visit me once he’s older and has a beautiful wife. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“It would be,” Susan agreed. “But you have to think of other things right now. Like seeing a doctor and taking care of yourself during the pregnancy.”
“Here we are.” Teresa stopped and pointed toward a rundown, wooden, two-story house. The front yard was strewn with debris. “There’s supposed to be nobody living here, so we don’t lock up. Not that there’s any danger. Mom and I have nothing to steal, and we’re not good-looking enough to attract attention.”
“Twenty thirty-one—two zero three one,” Susan read aloud.
Missing Your Smile Page 17
