“It’s not natural for you to only have brothers and a father to take care of. You should have a husband and children of your own,” he insisted. He didn’t understand that she had used up any desire to have children on the family she had raised for him. “Klaus Mueller is a good man. He would be a good husband for you. He’s ready to marry again.” Her heart sank when her father said it.
“Papa, he’s fifty years old.”
“I was almost thirty years older than your mother. We were very happy. You need an older man. You’re too wise for a young man.”
“And too wise to marry a man I don’t love,” she said simply. But she had never been in love and didn’t expect to be now.
“You can learn to love him. Your mother hardly knew me when we married. Her father thought I was a good choice for her, and he was right. She was barely more than a child. And you’re a grown woman. You will learn to love a good man. If you’re going off on buggy rides with your brothers because you have nothing to do, you need something more.”
“Yes, I do,” she said softly. Listening to him, she realized that she couldn’t lie to him anymore. She had been wrong to try. “I want to do something else. It’s something Mama would have understood. I think she would want me to do this. And I can stay here with you.” She could see that he didn’t understand. But how could he? What she wanted was so far beyond his wildest imagination. “I wrote a book, Papa. It took me three years. It’s a good book, like the ones Mama used to give me. It’s not about us. I didn’t say anything about the Amish in it. It’s just a story about a young girl who grows up on a farm and travels to see the world.”
“Is that what you want to do? Travel to see the world?” He looked shocked.
“No, I’m happy here. I just want to write. There is nothing in the Ordnung that says I can’t write.” She wanted to travel too but didn’t dare say so.
“I know the Ordnung better than you do. You need a home and children, and then you won’t have time to write stories and read books. If you want to read, read the Bible. There’s no need to read other books. And I want you to put your book away.”
“I can’t, Papa,” Lilli said in barely more than a whisper. “I sent it to a publisher in New York, and they liked it. They’re going to publish it next year.”
“I forbid it!” he said, slamming his fist on the table. “How dare you do that behind my back!”
“I’m sorry, Papa. I know it was wrong. I prayed about it. And I think Mama would have wanted me to do it.” It was a brave thing for her to say, and foolish at the same time.
“Your mother would never have allowed it, without my permission. She was an obedient woman. I will not allow you to publish a book, Lillibet. You must tell them immediately that you won’t.”
“I won’t do that,” she said softly. “I want to publish it. I did nothing wrong.”
“It is wrong to disobey me. I forbid you to publish a book. And to write anymore. You will study the Bible, and marry when I find you a husband. It’s time.”
“You can’t force me to marry, or to stop writing. You can’t make a prisoner of me, Papa.”
“Do you want to live with the English? Is that what you want?” He was threatening her, and she knew it, but she wouldn’t give in.
“No, I don’t. I want to stay here, in your house, with you and my brothers. I will stay until I’m an old woman if you want me. But I won’t stop writing. I need that for my soul.”
“You need God for your soul, and nothing else. I will not allow you to publish a book and live under my roof. Now go to your room. Your brothers and I will cook dinner tonight. I don’t want to hear about your book again. Have you made an agreement with them to have it published?”
“I signed a contract,” she said quietly, her voice growing stronger.
“Then write to them and tell them you changed your mind. They can’t force you to publish a book.”
“And you can’t force me not to,” she said, with fire in her eyes. “I’m being honest with you. I told you about it. I don’t want to lie to you.”
“You will not leave this house until you cancel that contract. Is that clear? I will shun you if you disobey.”
“You can’t force me to leave. I won’t go.” None of his children had ever dared to defy him, and he was shaking with rage as Lilli left the room and went upstairs. The others had all heard him pounding the table, and they were waiting outside for the storm to subside. They knew that something terrible must have happened, but none of them could have guessed that she had written a book. Lillibet went to her room without a word. She did not come down to dinner. And she lay awake for hours that night thinking about her book and her contract, and nothing was going to make her cancel it. Not even her father. She was more determined than ever to have it published. And she came downstairs in the morning and went about her chores.
Her father didn’t mention it again for several days, and then he asked her if she had written to the publishers to withdraw the book.
“No, I haven’t,” she said quietly. “And I won’t.” It had become a war of wills. For the next two weeks her father wouldn’t speak to her, and she finally went to see Margarethe in despair. She knew all about it, Henryk had been ranting to her about it since Lilli told him. And he was determined now to get her married and was sorry he hadn’t done it before.
“He’ll get over it. Your mother would have been proud of you,” Margarethe said softly. Lillibet was stunned by what she said. Margarethe was a far more docile woman than Rebekah had been, but in this instance she thought Lillibet was doing the right thing. It was a big step for her, and she needed something in her life if she didn’t want a husband and children.
But Henryk wouldn’t relent. It went on for two more weeks, with her father alternately berating and threatening her, and not speaking to her, and his threats to shun her were getting stronger and more vehement, which meant she would be expelled from their community if he followed up on his threats. Being sent away forever was the one thing she feared, so in September Lillibet wrote a letter to Bob Bellagio, explaining what was happening and that she couldn’t allow him to publish the book. She offered to return the money to him and enclosed one of the temporary checks the bank had given her, for the full amount. She walked to the dairy to give Joe Lattimer the letter and asked him to mail it. And when she got home, she told her father what she had done and looked at him with hatred in her eyes. He didn’t care. And she told him that she would leave the community on her own if he forced her to marry. She went to her room then and didn’t come out for three days. And then she went back to her chores, and her life of slavery, with a dead look in her eyes. Margarethe told Henryk that she was seriously worried about her, and that she thought he was wrong. And he told Margarethe she was no longer welcome in their house.
When Bob got her letter, he could see by her erratic handwriting how upset she was, and he hated to think of the pressure she had been under, and the threats from her father. She had told him all of it, and that she couldn’t go forward with the book. Feeling ill after he read her letter and sensing how distraught she was, he tore the check she sent him in half and was at Lattimer’s Dairy the next day and asked Joe for her address.
“Did something happen?” Joe asked him. There was a desperate look in Bob’s eyes.
“Her father won’t let her publish the book. I want to talk to him myself.” Joe nodded, although he didn’t think it would help. Henryk Petersen was a stubborn man, rooted in the old ways. But he told Bob where they lived and hoped he was doing the right thing.
It was late afternoon, and Lillibet was cooking dinner when Bob knocked on the kitchen door. She opened it and stared at him as though she had seen a ghost.
“What are you doing here?” He thought she looked thinner than when he’d last seen her, and very sad.
“I came to talk to your father and try to reason with him about the book. Maybe he should read it himself.”
“He won’t,” she said mis
erably. “He threatened to shun me and send me away.” Bob took the torn check out of his pocket then and put it in her hand. And then he looked at her with a serious expression.
“Lilli, do you want to publish the book?” He wouldn’t force her, in spite of the contract. She had too much at stake.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I do. But I don’t want to get sent away. I have nowhere to go. This is the only life I’ve ever known.” As he looked around the kitchen, Bob felt as though he had traveled back in time, to the seventeenth century, where they lived.
“Let me talk to him.” She didn’t think it would do any good, but she let him wait in the parlor and gave him a cup of tea. And she went back to cooking dinner, so her father wouldn’t see them together when he walked in.
Henryk came home half an hour later, and Lilli told him he had a guest waiting for him in the parlor. He was surprised and walked in, as Lilli followed him. Bob stood up immediately, looking solemn and respectful, and extended a hand. Henryk shook it, not knowing who he was.
“Mr. Petersen, I’m Robert Bellagio. I’m the publisher who would like to publish your daughter’s book. It’s an extraordinarily good book. It in no way embarrasses your community, it says nothing about the Amish. And people who read it will admire her enormously, and the education of your young women. I think you’d be very proud of her if you read it. I came here to tell you that myself. I am deeply respectful of the way you live, but I would like to see Lillibet able to publish her book too. I think it’s important to her.”
“It should be important to her to obey her father,” he said, “and I will be proud of her when she does. We live by rules here, and laws. It’s important that she respect those laws.” He looked at Bob with a fierce expression, and then relaxed a little and invited him to sit down. He didn’t want to be rude. “It was very kind of you to come here and speak to me.” Lilli could see that he appreciated the gesture of respect. “But I will not allow Lilli to publish her book.”
“Is there anything that I can do to make you more comfortable about it, sir?” Bob asked him quietly, and Lilli could see both men taking each other’s measure. Each had met his match, but she could already sense that Bob would not win. Her father was stronger, and they were playing by his rules.
“Only if you agree not to publish it. She’s my daughter and she must respect me.” He said it man to man.
“It’s an enormous sacrifice to ask her to make,” Bob said seriously. “I believe she worked on it for three years, writing it in longhand at night.”
“She shouldn’t have. She has more important things to do here, taking care of her brothers and me.” He sounded like a selfish old man to Bob, but he nodded respectfully. He didn’t want to make things worse for Lillibet. “Will you join us for dinner?” Henryk asked unexpectedly. “You’ve come a long way to see me. This book must be important to you.”
“It is.” Bob purposely didn’t look at Lilli as he said it. He didn’t want to anger her father, only to talk to him and see if he could sway him at all. So far he hadn’t, not an inch.
“I’m sorry then, to disappoint you. You couldn’t know how we’d feel about it when she agreed to let you publish it. It was dishonest of her. Will you stay?” he asked again, and Bob didn’t want to refuse. And he liked being near Lillibet, and gaining a better understanding of how she lived. He was shocked at what he saw. Not at the archaic simplicity of it, but at her father’s total jurisdiction over her. Henryk thought a life of servitude was enough to satisfy his daughter and all she deserved. Lattimer had hinted he would be like this, stubborn and difficult and steeped in the old ways.
“I’d be honored to have dinner here,” Bob said quietly. Her father nodded then and invited him to come into the other room, and then asked if he’d like to see something of the farm, and Bob said he would. The two men went outside and disappeared, as Lilli sat down at the kitchen table with shaking knees and Willy came downstairs.
“What’s happening now?” The battle between her and their father had been raging for a month, and they were all tired of it, Lilli most of all.
“The publisher who wants to publish my book is here. He came to see Papa to explain it to him,” she said with a look of despair, and Willy laughed.
“Did Papa take him outside to shoot him?” Willy guffawed at his own joke.
“Probably,” she said with a smile, and went to check on dinner and slow it down. And as she did, Bob was following her father around the barn, asking intelligent questions about how they ran the farm without electricity or modern farm implements or even a tractor, while her father explained to him the simple principles of their life and how they lived, and why they felt it was a better choice. Bob found it fascinating, but not for Lilli, who had none of the freedoms she wanted and Bob thought she deserved. Women had a role in their society, but it was an ancient, traditional one, and all the important decisions were made by the men. They had final say on everything, on any subject, and total rule over the women. Henryk said the women were happy that way, and Bob was sure Henryk believed that was true. He was an honest, sincere man, with deep convictions and beliefs.
Henryk found he actually liked Bob, and the interest and respect he showed. Both men looked entirely comfortable when they came back to the house an hour later. Lilli had dinner ready by then, and called to the boys to come downstairs.
They spent a surprisingly pleasant evening, and Bob was nice to the boys and they enjoyed talking to him. It was an exchange of information between his world and theirs. He asked serious questions about the Amish life, and the boys asked Bob a thousand questions about the things he did and places he’d been. It was a lively evening, and as Bob prepared to leave, Henryk thanked him for coming and looked as though he meant it. All Bob could hope was that he had planted a seed somewhere that would cause Henryk to relent, but there was no sign of it yet.
“Thank you for coming. You were brave to come,” Lilli said softly, as she walked him to the car. Her father had allowed her to do that. He trusted Bob. “I wish I were leaving with you,” she said miserably. It was the first time she had ever said anything like it, and meant it.
“So do I,” he said, searching her eyes. “He’s a tough guy,” he commented about her father.
“Yes, he is.”
“Lilli, honestly, if you ask me to, I won’t publish your book. I don’t want to ruin your life to publish a book.”
“No, I still want you to publish it.” There was determination in her eyes.
“What if they shun you?”
“I don’t think they can. I’ll go live with Margarethe if I have to, my mother’s friend. She might take me in.” But she wasn’t sure. If her father convinced the elders to shun her, no one could help, nor would they dare, for fear of being shunned themselves. But she told herself her father wouldn’t do that. He was hard, but she knew he loved her. Enough to punish her, but not shun her.
“You can come to New York,” he said with a wry smile. “You might like it.”
“I’d like to see it one day. Just for a visit,” she said.
“You will.” He squeezed her hand then—he didn’t want to kiss her cheek in case someone was watching. “And we still have to edit it.” She nodded, not sure how they would do it. Especially now.
“Thank you for coming,” she said again, as he slid into the car and started it. He looked at her for a long moment and pulled away. She waved as he drove off, and he felt as though he were abandoning her. He hated to leave her there in her medieval life, in her father’s control, with no one to talk to her who understood her, or protect her from the rigors of her world. It was a strange feeling, and she felt as though she had watched a ship sail away. The ship she wanted to be on, with the only friend she had in the world. There were tears running down her cheeks as she went back into the house and walked upstairs. It no longer felt like a home to her—it felt like a prison.
Chapter 18
The day after Bob’s unexpected visit, Henryk seeme
d slightly mollified, and kinder when he spoke to Lillibet. Bob’s gesture of respect had not been lost on him, and he thought he was a good man, although he thought it was strange that he wasn’t married at his age, but the English were like that. And he wasn’t worried that he was going to try and court Lillibet. He seemed too sensible and too respectful of the Amish to do that, and Bob’s interest was clearly business, not romance. But however much Henryk liked him, he was not going to allow Lillibet to publish the book, now or at any later date. As the head of the family, he had decided and he knew that Lillibet would accede to his wishes. She had no choice, and no wish to be shunned. Henryk had made himself clear. And he was a very determined man. Bob had understood that too.
Lillibet didn’t argue with him again after Bob’s visit. But her decision had been made too. She wouldn’t stop the book from being published, and she was counting on her father having too much heart to shun her. She knew he loved her, and she loved him. He would be angry with her, but she felt sure he would get over it. He and the boys needed her too much. So she did her chores and said nothing to him about it. There was no need to confront him. The book was a year away. And discretion seemed to be the better course, rather than full-on confrontation, which only fanned the flames of their anger, both his and hers.
She was waiting to hear from Bob about what she needed to do to edit the book, and they hadn’t figured out where to do it, or how. She thought it best if he sent the material to Lancaster for her to work on alone, and she could mail it back to him from the dairy. Bob thought she would need guidance and conversation about it, and for this first time at least, he thought that she needed to work with an editor face to face, either the one currently editing the book or himself.
Mary Paxton had been working on the manuscript since Lilli signed the contract, and she came back to Bob with it at the end of September. There was less work to do on it than she thought there would be, but it still needed some polishing and a few changes. She was surprised by how clean the manuscript was, from a novice writer, but Lillibet had been meticulous in her work.
Until the End of Time: A Novel Page 21
