Hidden Mercies

by Serena B. Miller

  “Heavens, no. Don’t do that. You aren’t the problem. They’re the problem. Levi can’t help sticking his foot in his mouth, and Grace is too emotionally unstable right now to deal with things well. I’d leave right now myself if I didn’t want to be here when my other granddaughter, Becky, comes home for the summer from college. She would feel so rootless if she didn’t have this old place to come home to.”

  “Tell me about Becky.” Tom hoped talking about her other granddaughter might distract her from the drama that was happening in the house.

  Elizabeth brightened. “She’s such a sweetheart. For a long time it was just me and Becky here while Grace was in the service. Becky was my buddy. Until I had my heart attack, we did everything together. She’s only a sophomore in college, but she’s going to be studying law.”

  Elizabeth’s back had been hunched from all the conflict, as though she were trying to protect her middle from a blow. Now, talking about Becky, he watched her straighten up. “She’s one bright little penny, our Becky. Got her sights set on law school at Ohio State once she graduates. With her straight-A’s, I’m sure she’ll get in.”

  They heard doors slamming inside the house and Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped again.

  “Both my granddaughters are smart as tacks,” she said. “But that’s not saying that the oldest one has a lick of sense right now!”

  A buggy trotted from the direction of the Shetlers’. It pulled in and stopped not far from the bench where they sat. Tom felt his heart lighten when Claire stepped down from the buggy.

  “Beautiful day for a ride,” Elizabeth called. “Are you on your way to deliver a baby?”

  “Not today. Although I have a mother who should be going into labor in the next week or so,” Claire said. “I’m on my way to visit Rose. Maddy has been baking and wanted me to bring you some—”

  She broke off as another door slammed shut inside the house. Then came what sounded like a muffled oath.

  “—fresh bread.”

  The sound of glass shattering came next. Tom hoped it wasn’t the plasma TV. It would take an awfully good corn crop to pay for that thing.

  “What’s going on?” Claire asked. “Where did Levi go?”

  “I don’t know. He just drove off. Levi and Grace have been having a fight,” Elizabeth said. “And it has definitely not been pretty. Grace is letting off steam. They’ll get over it. I hope.”

  “I am very sorry to hear that.” Claire frowned as she laid a fresh loaf of bread, wrapped in a clean dish towel, in Elizabeth’s lap.

  “Thanks,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe this bread will calm Grace down a little. I’ve noticed she does better when she gets a load of carbohydrates in her.”

  Claire crossed her arms and stared at the house. “And what was this fight about?”

  “Looking back,” Elizabeth spoke up, “I think Levi was on solid ground when he bought that TV for Grace, but he blew it when he said he would ‘allow’ her to get either cable or satellite.”

  “But why is she upset about that?” Claire asked. “My son was trying to give her a gift that an Englisch girl would like. I don’t understand the anger I hear coming from that house.”

  “Listen to me closely when I explain again. Levi said he would ‘allow’ Grace to get either cable or satellite. Emphasis on the world ‘allow.’ ” Elizabeth made quotation marks in the air.

  “Your granddaughter is too strong-willed,” Claire said. “She should have been taught that the Bible says that the husband is the head of his house.”

  Tom could feel Elizabeth bristle at this comment. It was obviously one thing for Elizabeth to criticize Grace, but a whole other ball game for Claire to do so.

  “I understand the biblical teaching about a husband being the spiritual leader in his home,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve read the fifth chapter of Ephesians many times, very closely, and I see nothing giving a man permission to spiritually bludgeon his wife with the twenty-second verse. Any man who does that is skating on thin ice with me, and I would wager he is with the Lord, as well.”

  “My Levi would never—”

  “He doesn’t mean to,” Elizabeth said. “It’s bred into him, Claire. That’s exactly the way Abraham treated you. Forbidding you to be a midwife while you were married to him—even though that was your great love and passion. Forbidding you to allow Levi the books he loved to read. Now Levi is ‘forbidding’ Grace to work a job she loves. And ‘forbidding’ her to wear the clothes she’s comfortable in. And ‘forbidding’ her to wear her hair any way except in a bun. I love your Levi as though he were my own. I think he’s one of the finest men I’ve ever met in my life, but right now I’m not so thrilled with him. He seems determined to change everything about Grace. It’s as though he married one woman and is trying to mold her into an entirely different one. I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can stand—or that Grace can. She’s tried so hard to please him, but she’s been so upset lately, I’m about half afraid she’ll bolt.”

  “But she is carrying my grandchild!”

  “And my great-grandchild.”

  They heard another crash inside the house.

  “Is that Grace breaking china?” Claire sounded appalled.

  “Probably,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t worry, though, I sold all my good china in the auction we had two years ago. She’s smashing garage-sale stuff now. I suppose she feels like it’s a better outlet than smashing Levi’s jaw when he gets back.”

  Claire’s eyes were beyond shocked. “Your granddaughter would resort to violence against my son?”

  “I don’t think so. That’s why she’s smashing china. But if I were Levi, I’d step softly for a while when he gets back. She’s had martial arts training and even though she’s pregnant, I think she might be able to take him.”

  “Do you understand a woman who would act like this, Tom?” Claire surprised him by turning to him for support.

  “You’re asking me?” Tom couldn’t help but laugh. “Claire, if I understood women, I would have married one by now.”

  This caught her interest. “So you have never been married. Ever?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  He had often pondered that question himself. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t dated lots of attractive women. He had received plenty of hints that a marriage proposal would be welcomed. Finding women was not a problem. A Marine uniform always turned heads. The problem was, one of the things he had never been able to shake about being raised Amish was a bone-deep conviction that marriage was for life. That conviction had always brought him up short—especially when his ideal woman happened to be an Amish woman with blond hair, no makeup, and more integrity than all the women he had every dated combined.

  He told Claire none of this, of course.

  “I just never found the right one, I guess.”

  “I thought the Englisch married and divorced easily, without much thought.”

  “Actually, for most there is a lot of thought—and tears.”

  He felt a little defensive about his Englisch buddies. Two of his friends in particular had gotten word from their wives that they were divorcing them while the men were still in a war zone. He’d always wondered what was so important that the wives couldn’t wait until the men were safely home. A distracted soldier was a dead soldier.

  “I will talk to my son,” Claire said. “He should not expect his Englisch wife to change so much. He knew who she was when he chose to marry outside his faith.”

  “Amen, sister,” Elizabeth said.

  That was Claire. Rigid in her own beliefs, but willing to allow someone else leeway in theirs. Willing to do what she could to save her son’s marriage—even if it meant counseling him from an entirely different point of view than the one in which she had been raised.

  Elizabeth’s comment about Abraham bothered him. He had forbidden her to work as a midwife? That told him more about her husband than anything else he’d heard—and he didn’t like it.
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  “I should go,” Claire said.

  “Are you in a hurry?” Elizabeth said. “You’re welcome to stay and visit. You can keep us company while we wait to see how this latest bit of drama between Levi and Grace turns out.”

  Claire glanced worriedly at the house. “It is best that I do not. After I visit my sister I am meeting my Englisch driver at Mrs. Yoder’s. Today is Annette’s birthday, and I am treating her to dinner.”

  “Well now, that sounds nice,” Elizabeth said. “You go enjoy yourself and don’t worry about those two young’uns of ours. They’ll work things out.” A note of doubt colored her voice as she said again, “I hope.”

  • • •

  “If I’m ever stuck on a desert island”—Annette slipped a quarter rack of ribs, dripping homemade barbecue sauce, onto her plate—“Friday-night buffets at Mrs. Yoder’s restaurant is what I’ll fantasize about. Would you just look at this? These ribs are so tender, they’re falling off the bone.”

  Claire preferred the battered shrimp, but she was glad that the birthday dinner she was treating her driver to was turning out to be a success. Annette had been a good friend to their family for many years, and the woman definitely loved barbecued ribs. Actually, Annette loved pretty much everything on the buffet.

  “And these baby pickled beets!” Annette put four on her plate, speared one with her fork, and put it in her mouth. “They are to die for!”

  Claire glanced around the restaurant, hoping no one had seen that. Sometimes Annette could be a bit too enthusiastic about her food. Eating while standing in line at the buffet was something the restaurant discouraged.

  Rose was ill, and had to stay home again tonight. That meant Maddy was working here yet once again. Claire was unhappy with this for several reasons. One, she was worried that the reason Rose was ill was a combination of worry and poor nutrition. Second, with Maddy having to work, she’d had to ask Grace and Levi to watch the children while she took Annette for her birthday dinner. And third—well, she had never been entirely comfortable with Maddy’s working here—and right now she was downright upset about it. The problem was, Maddy had grown into a stunner, and in this large dining room crowded with Friday-night customers, Claire could clearly see that she wasn’t the only person who had noticed. Unlike most Amish girls, she had been blessed with raven-black hair that came down into what the old folks called a widow’s peak. Neatly parted in the middle, and swept back beneath the snowy-white head covering, it framed Maddy’s heart-shaped face perfectly. Her eyebrows were perfectly arched, matched by lovely long eyelashes. Her teeth were as white as fresh cow’s milk, and she was so healthy that her cheeks and lips had a naturally rosy hue that most Englisch girls would have to use makeup to achieve.

  Quick to laugh, blue eyes that sparkled with fun, and one deep dimple on her cheek—Maddy was as beautiful as any movie star gracing the glossy magazines that Claire tried not to look at when standing in line at the grocery store. This was decidedly not a good thing, especially now that her niece was working out in the world.

  There were some who would never consider Mrs. Yoder’s Kitchen a worldly place. It was a family restaurant that employed many Amish girls. The clientele tended to be middle-aged tourists or local people. It was not unusual for a table to be filled with Old Order Amish, especially during the buffets.

  Maddy was, of course, dressed in her modest, Amish clothing. And yet Claire knew that it would be obvious to even the most casual eye that she was beautifully formed.

  The problem was, Claire had a suspicion that some of the men’s eyes in the crowded dining room weren’t all that casual. Her young niece was still too innocent to realize that her good-natured smile and quick laughter as she brought food out from the kitchen and dished it into the buffet warming trays could be misinterpreted.

  “Have you ever tried the breaded mushrooms?” Annette asked as she neared the end of her meal. “These things are delicious.”

  Distracted, Claire chewed a piece of feather-light whole wheat bread spread with Amish peanut butter and honey.

  “Yes, they are.”

  “You didn’t even get any,” Annette pointed out. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m worried,” Claire admitted.

  “What about?”

  Claire nodded meaningfully at a scene she was watching unfold over Annette’s shoulder. A group of young men—decidedly not Amish—were bantering with her niece over what sort of toppings to put on the sausage they were putting onto their plates from the buffet.

  Claire was not as innocent as Maddy, and the snickers she heard after some of the boys’ remarks made her think that their comments held a double meaning her young niece appeared to be oblivious to.

  Annette looked over her shoulder for a few seconds and listened. “Yes, they are trying to draw her into dirty talk, and no, she doesn’t have a clue,” Annette said, reading her mind. “Do you want me to deal with it, or do you?”

  Annette was not a small person. As a younger woman, she had played college basketball. She towered over Claire a good four inches, and when riled, she used words that made Claire cover her ears.

  Claire did not know if it was wise to unleash the full fury of Annette’s wrath on the boys, and she did not want to embarrass Maddy, who had done nothing wrong.

  “I’ll take care of it.” She rose and strode over to the counter.

  “Isn’t your shift about finished?” she asked Maddy. “Our driver is ready to leave.”

  Maddy looked puzzled by Claire’s interruption. “I suppose I can leave as soon as I finish up in the kitchen.”

  “Good.” Claire took the time to look each of the boys straight in the eye. “Our driver and I will be waiting.”

  Annette had arisen to her full six-foot height, her arms crossed across her chest, watching. Claire saw the boys glance at Annette, and their smiles dimmed. Claire was pleased. The boys now knew that Maddy was not alone. She had people who cared about her and were watching out for her.

  Maddy obediently gathered her things, and Annette and Claire flanked her as they ushered her out of the building.

  “Was I doing something wrong?” Maddy asked the moment they were outside.

  “You did nothing wrong, little one,” Claire said.

  “Nothing except being pretty as a picture,” Annette said, “and you can’t help that.”

  “Those boys were just being friendly,” Maddy said. “They come in all the time.”

  Claire wished she could agree, but she was suspicious that the boys’ words and intentions had not been nearly as innocent as her niece’s heart.

  chapter THIRTEEN

  “That’s it,” Tom encouraged. “Just ease that bolt off.”

  “Like this?”

  “Not if you want a faceful of motor oil,” Tom said. “Like this.”

  He was lying on his back, beneath Levi’s car, which they had up on blocks. With his damaged hands, it was awkward, but he could still demonstrate the proper way to do an oil change.

  After they successfully finished the task, Levi ran into the house and brought back two ice-cold Cokes and handed one to him.

  “Thanks.”

  They sat in companionable silence, two grungy men who had just completed a dirty job, enjoying the sweet reward of a cold soft drink together. He had never had a son, and had no idea how much satisfaction he would get out of teaching one something as simple as how to do an oil change. Levi was such a quick study. A few more weeks and the boy would be a regular mechanic.

  “How long do you get to stay?” Levi asked.

  “You mean here?”

  “No. I mean away from the military. Your sick leave or whatever soldiers call it.”

  “From the moment I left the hospital, I had thirty days of sick leave coming to me.”

  “How much of that is gone?”

  “A little over a week.”

  “What happens when those thirty days are up?”

  “I’ll have to make a decision.” He
took another swig of Coke. “Depending on how I feel three weeks from now, I can petition Marine headquarters and the hospital commander for a formal extension of my convalescent leave . . . or I can retire.”

  “Retire?” Levi said. “Aren’t you a little young to retire? What are you? Midforties?”

  “Forty-four, and no, I’m not too young. I have twenty-five years in, which makes it an option. I just never thought I’d have to face the decision this soon.”

  “What happens if you ask for an extension?”

  “I’d probably get it. I’m an officer and I have years of honorable service behind me. They would give me time to fully recuperate before I come back. The problem is, unless I get an awful lot better, there’s no guarantee I’d ever be allowed to fly again. More than likely, I’ll just end up with a desk job.”

  “You would hate that.”

  “Yes, I would definitely hate that.”

  “What would you do if you retire?”

  “I’m not sure. A couple buddies have offered me jobs. They own small private helicopter companies—the kind that fly executives from one place to another or get rented to take kids up for a joy ride on prom night.”

  “They would let you fly when the military wouldn’t?”

  “Piloting a Cobra while under fire takes a whole different skill level than taking people up from time to time in good weather in a commercial helicopter.”

  There was a long silence as Levi thought this over.

  “You would hate that, too.”

  “I would.”

  “You could stay here, maybe,” Levi said. “And help me.”

  There was a wistful note in his voice that grabbed Tom’s heart and held it. He already loved this young man. There was an innocence to him, a goodness that one didn’t find every day. He wondered if the trust Levi felt for him would dissipate when he learned that he was his father’s brother, only pretending to be a stranger.

  “That’s the best offer I’ve heard yet,” Tom said. “But I’ve stayed here with you and your family way longer than I ever intended.”

  “What if you had your own apartment? I know of one. Grace suggested it the other day as a possibility.”