“It won’t take more than a few days,” Mary reassured him after she sat down in his office, using considerable effort to lower herself into a chair. She looked like Agnes Gooch in Auntie Mame, and was expecting twins in two weeks. She felt like she was about to pop. She had been miserable in the heat all summer and could hardly wait. Mary was the Yalie he had hired when he started his business, and he thought she’d be perfect to work with Lillibet. “How soon can she be here?” Mary asked with a look of concern. “Would tomorrow be too soon?” She was kidding, but not by much. “I’m planning to run around the block until I drop tonight, so I can get these guys moving.” And she was planning to take three months off to be with her babies. They were her first and she had no idea what to expect, times two.
“I’m not sure she can,” Bob said, looking worried. “How much do you think you can get across to her in an e-mail?” He had mentioned to Mary that Lillibet was Amish but not how violently her father objected to the book. They didn’t need to know. And Mary had been impressed by how smoothly Lillibet described things that she had never seen and didn’t know, like air travel, other cities and countries, what people looked like, how they thought, the way they dressed, and the choices they made in life. She had amazing insight for such a young woman and seemed to be able to channel herself into other people’s heads, in situations she’d never been in. She was a true writer to her core, and clearly had an immense gift, just as Bob had thought.
“I don’t think we should do it by e-mail the first time,” Mary said, looking pensive. “Maybe after we’re used to working together, but I really want to get this right. The book is too good not to. Can she come to New York?” Bob sighed in answer and thought about it.
“It’ll be tough. Her family needs her on the farm. And realistically, she’s never traveled out of Lancaster. They’ll be nervous about it.” That was a major understatement of her father’s reaction—“atomic explosion” was more like it. “And it will be like taking her to another planet. I hoped for a gentler introduction to the process and the modern world. She’s never been off the farm, or used a telephone. I took her for her first ride in a car. Bringing her here will be pretty extreme for her.”
“Well, unless she’s trained as a midwife, I can’t go there,” Mary said ruefully. “And I really think we should meet.” He did too, he just didn’t know how to pull it off. He wrote her a letter, not wanting to rely on her young brothers to get an e-mail to her, now that he’d met them. He just hoped that she’d get the mail before her father did. And two days later she called him from Joe Lattimer’s office at the dairy, with panic in her voice. Fortunately, Bob was in when she phoned him first thing in the morning. He took the call the minute he heard it was she.
“How can I come to New York?” she asked him. It would have been hard enough if he came to Lancaster, and she couldn’t have explained his visit to her father, especially for several days. But disappearing for a week to go to New York was even worse. The logistics of it seemed impossible to her, and almost equally so to him. “I’m too old for rumspringa,” she said, sounding anxious about it, and using a term he’d never heard.
“Rumspringa?” And then she laughed and relaxed a little.
“Sorry, it’s an Amish term. We are baptized as adults, not children, when we’re old enough to make a choice about the way we live and embrace the Amish ways. Some families allow young people and teenagers to kick up their heels a little before they’re baptized. Some even smoke and drink a little, have English friends, ride in cars. It’s a very liberal way to look at things, so they know what they’re giving up. But no one in my family has ever done that, and my father would probably have killed us if we did. And I don’t think a week in New York would qualify as rumspringa to him—more like Sodom and Gomorrah.” They both laughed, and what she had described sounded like an interesting concept to him. So many things they did were sensible and carefully thought out—it was the extreme position and the rigidity of the old guard like Henryk that made her life so difficult, but she had accepted it till now and planned to for the rest of her life. As long as Henryk was alive, nothing would ever change for her.
“My parents weren’t so keen on rumspringa either,” Bob said, laughing. “I was picked up for drunk driving once in college, and joined a traditional freshman jogging event at Princeton with a friend there, where all the freshman boys ran around the campus naked at the first snow. We got a little carried away, jogged to a bar off campus, and got arrested. My father had to come down from New York to bail me out. He cut off my allowance for two months.”
“That’s a little racier than rumspringa here.” She was laughing at his story. “So what are we going to do? Is it really important for me to be there in person to work with this woman?”
“She thinks so, and she can’t come to you. She’s having twins in two weeks, or sooner, so that rules out her going to you. And she’s a better editor than I am and has been working on the book.”
“Then I’ll have to come there. I’ll find a way,” she said, sounding frightened but sure.
“I’m sorry, Lillibet,” he said sincerely.
“For what? Giving me the biggest opportunity of my life?” He was glad she still felt that way.
“I’ll send a car for you. And you can stay at a hotel near the office. We’ll pay for everything, of course, and I’ll drive you back myself if you want, or have a car take you back.” He realized that it might look better if a car and driver took her home, so her father didn’t think she had spent the week with him, shacked up in his apartment or at a hotel.
“Will I be safe at a hotel?” she asked, sounding as young as she was and brand new in the world.
“Of course. It will be a very nice hotel. And I’ll get to show you New York.” He sounded happy about it, and she was excited at the prospect. She just had to get through her father’s fury and threats before that, whatever it took. “How soon can you come?”
“I don’t know. This week? Next?” Her father would be livid whenever she went, and she wasn’t going to lie to him. She had to tell him now that she was going forward with the book, and going to New York for several days to edit it.
“I think it should be sooner rather than later, given Mary’s condition. She looks like she’s going to explode any minute.” He had never seen anyone so pregnant in his life.
“So did my mother when she had Markus and Josiah.” She had been a tiny woman like Lilli. “All right. Let’s say Friday then.” It was Tuesday as they were speaking. “How long do you want me?” He wanted to say “forever,” jokingly, but he didn’t dare, because there would be more truth to it than she knew. But he didn’t want to cloud the work issues with feelings he couldn’t explain and might make no sense to her. He couldn’t make sense of it himself.
“Why don’t you plan to stay a week, and you can go back sooner if you finish? Give yourself a little time.” She found herself thinking of the old saying “Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.” Going at all would infuriate her father, five days or a week wouldn’t make much difference. The principle and the fact would enrage him, and her disobedience to him. She didn’t want to push him so far that he shunned her, but she knew how much he loved her and even though she worried about it, she couldn’t really imagine his doing that to her. “I’ll have a car and driver at your house on Friday morning,” Bob said simply, relieved that she was coming and had agreed, although he was worried for her too.
“Send him to the dairy. I’ll have Willy drop me off. It’s better than putting it in my father’s face that I’m leaving in a car.” She thought of her drive to the bank and the ice-cream store the day they met. Her father would have been horrified by that too, but she had enjoyed it, and still cherished the memory of being with him.
“I’ll take care of it,” Bob assured her, and then in a gentle tone, he took off his publisher’s hat and donned that of a friend. He felt like both. “Good luck with your father. I promise I’ll take good care of you whi
le you’re here.” She knew he would. She hung up and thanked Joe Lattimer for the use of his phone. He had left her alone in his office, so she could talk freely. Her life seemed very complicated these days since she had sent her manuscript to New York and Bob had discovered her. Joe hoped he hadn’t done anything wrong. He had just wanted to help her and still did. He didn’t want her to get shunned as a result, and neither did Bob. It clearly wasn’t what Lilli wanted either.
She took the buggy back to the farm then. She had come alone and brought the milk in with her. She hadn’t asked for permission. She just did it, and her father had been out when she left. She stopped at Margarethe’s on the way back. Her father still wouldn’t allow Margarethe at their house, since she had tried to get him to let Lilli do the book. Lilli missed seeing her but had gone to visit several times. And she needed to talk to someone now. She told Margarethe about Bob needing her to go to New York to work on the book, and the editor expecting twins and unable to come to her.
“I have to go,” Lilli said with a sigh over a cup of mint tea that Margarethe had made herself, with peppermint leaves from her garden. And she had baked hot buns with the peach jam she was famous for. “Papa will kill me,” Lilli said, worried. She really had come to a crossroads with the trip to New York. Either she went, with all the potential consequences from her father, or she had to abandon the book now. She was almost sure that Margarethe would tell her the risk was too high and to stop while she still could. Lilli looked at her with big sad eyes, with her black bonnet in her lap, her long braid streaming down her back.
“You have a choice, of course,” Margarethe said cautiously—she didn’t want to influence her, only help. “And your father is a stubborn man. We all know that.” She smiled ruefully. He hadn’t spoken to her in weeks, and they had always been close. “He sincerely believes in his position and thinks it’s best for you. And as an elder of the council, he has to stick to the principles of his beliefs and to the Ordnung. But I think there is more at stake here than your father and the council and the Ordnung, Lilli. There’s your heart and your life and what you need to do. We don’t get to make decisions very often, in our way of life. And certainly not once we’re married. You’re young and free, and you have to respect your father, but you have to honor yourself and God. I believe He gave you this opportunity and your talent, and you shouldn’t waste it.
“I want to say what I think your mother would have, and she and I didn’t always agree. She was much braver than I am, but this time I do agree.… Go, Lilli … follow your dreams … follow your heart. If this book is important to you, go to New York. See it through … don’t waste it. You’ll always regret it if you don’t go. And you could become bitter about it. Your father will get over it. He has to. He needs you, and he loves you. I think you should go to New York.” Lilli stared at her in amazement. For the second time recently, Margarethe had said the exact opposite of what Lilli had expected and told her to choose the path of freedom, whatever the consequences. And Lilli knew in her heart that it was exactly what her mother would have wanted her to do, and then she would have helped her pick up the pieces later. This time Lilli would have to do that herself, but she was willing to.
“Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around Margarethe’s neck. “Thank you.” She didn’t want to waste the opportunity either. If she did, it might never come again. She knew she had to seize it while she could. And she believed that the chance to publish her book had been a gift from her mother, in heaven.
She went back to the house and began quietly making preparations that night. And the next day, when her father was at her brother’s farm, with Willy, and the twins were in school, she took the buggy and went to the dairy to find a ride into town. After asking around, one of the farmhands took her. She bought a few simple things at a women’s store. She was going to wear her Amish clothes, but she wanted a few English-style things for New York, so she didn’t attract too much attention. She bought a black skirt, and some blouses, a dark blue dress, and a red one, and flat shoes that looked like ballerina slippers and felt like air on her feet. And she bought a pair of blue jeans. She was fascinated by the buttons and zippers, and she bought a small suitcase to put it all in. She would take her black Amish cape with her that she wore all winter, but she bought a dark blue coat too. It fit her perfectly and would keep her warm if the weather was chilly. And she bought two pairs of sheer stockings, which she had never even seen before. Her legs looked naked when she had them on, instead of the heavy black cotton stockings she had worn all her life. She paid for all of it by check from her bank account.
And the woman who helped her was very kind, and gave her good advice when she said she was going to New York on business. She packed it all in the suitcase in the store and hid it under her bed when she got home. No one had seen her leave and return. She felt dishonest, but she was certain she was doing the right thing now. And she broke the news to her father on Thursday night. She waited until after dinner and told him she needed to speak to him. She sat quietly until the boys went upstairs, and her father was stone-faced, before he knew what she had to say. He thought she had given up the idea of the book, but he wasn’t sure. Sometimes she was as stubborn as he was.
At last, alone with him, she stood in front of him, trembling, but he couldn’t see it, as she held tightly to the edges of her apron. It was one of the ones her mother had made her. She had worn it on purpose to speak to him. It reminded her of her mother and gave her courage.
“Papa, I want to tell you two things. I am going to let them publish my book. I don’t think it’s wrong. And I think Mama would have approved. And I am going to New York to edit it with them, and make some corrections. I will be working with a woman Bob Bellagio has assigned to do it. She’s having twins soon, so she can’t come here. So I am going there to work on it with her. I’ll be back in a week or less, as soon as I finish. Nothing will have changed. And I will go on as before. But I have to do this, Papa. And I love you very much.” She added the last for good measure. And she said it to him in the German they often spoke at home, so he would know that she wasn’t abandoning him or their traditions. And when she finished speaking, there was deafening silence in the room. His brows were knit, he said nothing, and he didn’t move. It was almost a full five minutes before he said a word. He stood up then and spoke to her in English, in a strong clear voice that rang out in the room.
“If you go to New York, do not come back here, Lillibet. I will speak to the elders, and you will be shunned. You cannot disobey me and live like the English and stay in our community. You have no home here anymore, if you leave.” They were powerful words that hit her like blows, but she did not believe him. In her mind, she loved him and their family too much for him to shun her. Her heart and mind would not allow her to accept that he could do it. The memory of her mother would not permit him to do it in the end. She was certain.
“I will be back, Papa. As soon as we finish. A week at most, maybe less,” she said calmly, refusing to be frightened by him. He said nothing to her in response. He stormed past her, walked up the stairs to his room with a heavy step, and slammed the door. Lillibet went to her own room after that, after she put out the lamps. She took out her suitcase and put the rest of her things in it. She had taken two of her Amish dresses and was going to wear another, in a plain black wool, with her winter bonnet, and cape, and tall black shoes. And she knew that whatever she wore, her old clothes or the new, she would always be an Amish girl, and chose to be, just as she had promised at her baptism, and she would come home again. But first, no matter how angry her father was, or how much he threatened her, she was going to New York. And she could hardly wait.
Chapter 19
On Friday morning, Lillibet got up even earlier than usual, and she went to wake Willy. She hated to make him do it and didn’t want to get him in trouble with their father, but she needed him to drive her to the dairy in the buggy. She had no other way to get there, and she had told Bob to
have the car meet her there. It was too far for her to walk with her suitcase. She had discussed it with Willy the night before, and he said he was willing. He didn’t want his sister on the road alone. Things happened to people, especially to girls late at night, and it would still be dark when she left.
“Are you coming back?” he asked her, looking worried. His eyes were huge when he asked.
“Yes. I promise. I’ll only be gone a week.”
“Do you think Papa will have you shunned?” He looked frightened, but she didn’t.
“No, I don’t. He loves me. He’ll just be very angry, but I wrote a book, and now I want to get it published. I didn’t do anything bad.”
“Does the book talk about us?”
“No, it’s just about a girl.” It sounded dull to him and not worth making such a big fuss over, but their father had been furious at her for weeks. Willy hoped it would be over soon, and so did she.
She was dressed and downstairs long before sunup, and didn’t even dare make herself a cup of tea. She didn’t want to make any noise and wake her father or the twins. She and Willy were both carrying their shoes when they left and walked across the grass in the front yard, covered with morning dew. They walked to the stable, Willy hitched the horse to the buggy and put her suitcase in the back, and they took off as quietly as they could. Neither of them knew that their father was already awake and had been listening to them as they left. And when he heard the buggy take off down the road, with his only daughter in it, he sat on his bed and cried.
The car and driver were waiting for her at the dairy, as promised. And she hugged Willy fiercely when she said goodbye. Her little brothers were a nuisance, but she loved them, and she had never left them, or home, let alone for a week.
Until the End of Time: A Novel Page 22
