THREE
And just like that, all of my plans, all of my dreams, began evaporating into thin air.
I didn’t ask Ella if her boyfriend knew exactly what had happened or why. I simply apologized to Mrs. Glick and asked her to excuse me yet again.
“Of course, dear. Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine,” I lied. Then I got to my feet and began walking away.
Didn’t get the job? Levi Stoltz had promised it to me several times, including right before we had left Lancaster County. I’d sat on his front porch, held his five-month-old baby, and heard him say he’d have the confirmation packet ready for me when I returned from Oregon.
“Ada?” Ella said, moving to catch up with me. “Ada, wait!”
Looking around, I realized I had walked halfway to the orchard. I stopped, my feet feeling strangely unsteady beneath me.
“Did you hear what I said?” Ella pressed. “You didn’t get the job.”
“Yes, I heard you, but I’m afraid you’re wrong. There has been some sort of mistake.”
“That’s what I thought, but Ezra says it’s true.” Ella reached for my hand. I pulled away, shaking my head. I wanted to take off running through the orchard. If not for all of the people who would see me and think me mad, I would have.
“Who did they give it to instead?” I rasped, closing my eyes. “Is the teacher someone we know?”
She reached for my hand again and this time held it. “He didn’t say, but I can find out if you want.”
Opening my eyes, I looked back at the table, where Mrs. Glick and Zed were both watching us with concern.
“Look at it this way, Ada,” Ella continued. “At least now you’ll be free to go to Europe with Alice. Whatever that’s all about, it has to be more exciting than being in charge of some dumb classroom full of kids back in Pennsylvania.”
I sucked in a breath, aware that others were starting to look our way now as well. Whatever was going on with Alice and Europe was beside the point. I wanted to teach.
But I hadn’t been given the job.
Staring vacantly at the crowd, a flash of white off to one side caught my eye. Focusing in, I realized that it was Lexie, who was at her husband’s side, still circulating among the guests. She and James had been making the rounds since the meal began, moving from group to group and chatting with everyone in turn. Soon they would probably be cutting the cake, and then it was only a matter of time before they would leave on their honeymoon and this whole big party would be over.
“I’m not going to talk about this right now,” I said to Ella, my heart filling with sudden resolve. “We’re here for Lexie. Everything else can wait.”
With that, I returned to the party. Putting on my best smile, I approached my sister and asked if she and James had been able to eat yet. She said no, so I offered to put a plate together of finger foods for them so they could easily eat as they continued chatting.
“Good idea,” James said, grinning at me, though Lexie said she wasn’t hungry just yet.
Grabbing a plate, I went down the buffet line and loaded it with everything that looked as though it could be eaten without utensils. As I did I tried to act as if my entire future wasn’t crumbling before my eyes.
How could this possibly be true?
Maybe it wasn’t, I decided as I squeezed small dill pickles onto the plate between some little sausages and a buttered roll. Continuing down the buffet, I thought about the possibility that Ezra’s text had merely been based on a rumor. I knew how these things went back home. Someone would express an opinion or an idea, and the person they had said it to would pass that along to someone else, and as it continued to move on down the line, that opinion or idea would slowly transform into fact. That’s probably all that had happened here, a rumor that started going around, solidified, and then ended up making it all the way out to Oregon. Just a rumor.
Not even looking in Ella’s direction, I carried the plate to James and stood chatting with him and Lexie for a while as he ate. They both seemed so incredibly happy, and their joy was infectious. By the time they were ready to move on to the dessert table, I had nearly forgotten about Ezra’s message and the teaching job entirely.
As James and Lexie cut the cake, Zed filmed them on Ella’s phone, adding commentary all the while. After just one bite, James began to praise the cake effusively, causing Ella to beam from ear to ear. Together, she and I served the guests, with a little help from Zed.
All too soon it was time for my sister and her new husband to leave on their honeymoon. As Lexie hugged me goodbye, she made me promise to stay in touch faithfully once I got back home. “And give my regards to Will Gundy,” she added, lifting her eyebrows and poking me on the shoulder.
“If I happen to see him, I certainly will,” I replied, blushing in spite of myself.
“Mm-hmm,” she teased, eyes sparkling.
“I told you that he’s courting someone else.”
“Perhaps, but just remember, Ada,” she replied sagely, holding up her index finger, “it’s not over till the fat lady sings.” I had no idea what she meant, but the way she said it reminded me so much of our grandmother spouting one of her proverbs that I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You sound just like Mammi. I suppose it’s true what they say, that the apple will not roll far away from its tree.”
That made Lexie laugh as well, though I wasn’t quite sure why.
“The saying is about family,” I started to explain, but she just nodded and smiled, saying she knew what it meant. Flushing with heat, I realized that my inner teacher really did come out a little too easily, even when she wasn’t needed at all.
“Speaking of family,” Lexie added, lowering her voice, “have you thought any more about going to visit Giselle?”
I studied my sister’s face, startled by the question. Giselle was our birth mother, and though we had communicated with her via email this past spring, neither Lexie nor I had met her in person. The problem wasn’t just that Giselle seemed reluctant about connecting with the two daughters she’d given up for adoption all those years ago. The situation was made infinitely more complicated by the fact that she lived very far away—across an ocean, in fact—in Switzerland.
Which was in Europe.
At the very thought, it was as if a light had suddenly turned on inside my head. Is this what You are up to, God? Is this why You have closed one door, so as to open another?
“I’m not sure,” I finally managed to utter to Lexie. “There may be a slight possibility…” My voice trailing off, I didn’t elaborate. This wasn’t the time or place for this conversation.
“Well, keep me posted, okay? And if you have the chance to go, promise me you’ll take it.”
Eyes welling with sudden tears, I couldn’t reply but instead simply gave her a nod and another hug. She squeezed me back, hard. We both knew that, eventually, a trip to Switzerland to see Giselle would be in order by at least one of us, her two daughters. The thing was, Lexie was much freer to go than I, but she didn’t want to. I wanted to, but I was far less free to go. Ordinarily, Mamm would never even consider allowing me to take a trip to Europe, nor was there any way I could afford it even if she did. But now that something was afoot with Alice, something about Europe, who could say for sure? At this point all I could do was keep it in prayer, trusting that God knew the deepest desires of my heart and would work out everything in accordance with His plan.
The happy couple climbed into James’s old car and drove off as we all waved goodbye. Lexie had told me that many Englisch couples honeymooned in places like Hawaii or Mexico or the Caribbean, but that with James still in school they had neither the time nor the money for anything so elaborate. Instead, they were heading to the San Juan Islands, near Seattle, where they would stay for a week before returning home to Portland.
Eventually, this farm her father had left Lexie would become their home. But that wouldn’t happen for a while, not until James w
as finished with school and they both managed to find jobs close by. I thought that was a wonderful plan. The old house needed a lot of work, but it had enormous potential. And James was a resourceful, industrious man who, with Lexie’s help, could turn this place into something very nice indeed.
“Do the Amish take honeymoons?” Mrs. Glick asked, interrupting my thoughts. The woman next to her seemed interested as well.
I explained that we had no such thing as a honeymoon, although some couples might take a wedding trip later on. Generally, a newly married couple would spend their wedding night at the home of the bride’s parents. The next morning they would rise before dawn along with everyone else to continue their share of the cleanup from the previous days’ festivities.
“But don’t they want privacy?” the other woman asked. “Wouldn’t they rather be alone?”
I shrugged, never having thought of it that way before. “I think being with the family is more important,” I said finally. “This is how we learn to be good husbands and wives, by watching our parents and spending time with them once we are married as well.”
I went on to explain that a newly married couple would likely live with one side of the family or the other for a while, sometimes for months, after the wedding. During that time they would visit relatives each weekend, receiving their wedding gifts visit by visit, until eventually they were ready to set up housekeeping on their own.
“Fascinating,” Mrs. Glick said, using her favorite refrain for the day.
Once the crowd had disbursed, Ella and I joined up with the remaining women to clean the yard, put away food, and wash the dishes. Zed helped the men fold up the tables and chairs and load them onto the beds of several waiting pickup trucks. As we worked, Ella kept asking if I was “going to be okay” or if I needed “to talk about it,” but I said no and then avoided the subject entirely, feeling far too confused and vulnerable to bare my soul to her or anyone.
At dusk I finally managed to slip off to the orchard. I walked down one of the wide paths between the trees, forcing myself to breathe. I’d seen Lexie out here just this morning, standing statue still, her head turned up to the canopy of leaves. I was sure she was missing her dad and mom, and my heart had ached for her. It was at times like that I felt ashamed of coveting her education and opportunities. Having a mamm and daed alive and well, as I did, was worth any cost, any sacrifice. Perhaps I would remind myself of that the next time my yearnings for something more began to rise up and choke the very life from my soul.
A late afternoon breeze wafted through the branches, stirring the leaves and cooling the earlier heat from the day. The orchard was such a peaceful place, very quiet and soothing. Hazelnuts didn’t grow in Pennsylvania, at least not that I knew of, and as I walked along I tried to think of how I might describe this place to everyone back home. The nuts themselves grew in pairs, bigger than acorns but still small. The trees were odd but strangely appealing, with a gray and gnarly bark and scraggly, ancient-looking branches.
After a while, as I walked, I thought I could hear the sound of a voice, a male voice. Stopping to peer through the rows of trees, I finally spotted Zed up ahead and to the left, babbling out loud even though he was alone. I realized that he was filming, focusing up close on a hazelnut tree trunk while narrating in a nonstop commentary. Not wanting him to see me, I turned around and went back the way I had come.
Retracing my steps, I thought how surprising it was that Ella had let Zed get hold of her phone again. That cell was her lifeline to Ezra, after all. More than likely, Zed had asked to borrow it for just a moment and then slipped away into the orchard where she couldn’t find him to retrieve it.
As I neared the house I found myself wondering if Ella and Ezra would end up marrying in the end. They were certainly crazy about each other, and I thought their personalities made a nice fit. Unfortunately, such a union would be tremendously problematic for religious reasons, given that Ezra was Amish and Ella was Mennonite. Because of that he would have to make a choice: marry her or join the Amish church. He would not be allowed to do both. Surely she understood that.
Then again, maybe she was planning to join the Amish church with him. That was one option if they really did want to marry, though I couldn’t imagine Ella trying to become Amish and living our lifestyle. She was Mennonite, yes, which meant she knew how to live Plainly in some aspects. But she was also used to cars and computers and an education past the eighth grade. It didn’t seem likely she would be happy to give all of that up—at least not over the long term.
I reached the house and went inside, feeling much better for having taken a walk. I found Ella in the bedroom busily packing up her things, and I was relieved when she didn’t ask me where I’d been or bring up the teaching job. Instead, she just started talking about Lexie’s wedding and how beautiful it had been. I agreed, and soon she and I were rehashing the day’s events, from the clothes to the conversations to the look in James’s eyes whenever he gazed at his beloved.
I decided to pack up as well, and we continued talking as we both folded clothes and sorted belongings for the long train ride home that would begin tomorrow afternoon. After a while she started waxing romantically about her own future nuptials and what they would be like. From the way she talked, it didn’t sound as if an Amish wedding was what she had in mind, not at all.
“Do you plan on marrying Ezra?” I asked casually, seizing the opportunity to bring up the question as I folded a pair of stockings and tucked them into my bag. Back home such an inquiry might be considered offensive and inappropriate, but I’d asked it anyway, feeling justified by my concerns for my cousin.
“Who knows?” she replied. Her voice was light, but when I glanced her way I could clearly see the longing in her eyes.
We grew quiet after that, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I decided not to say anything about the religious issues at play, but I couldn’t help thinking about Ezra’s family and how they would feel if their youngest son declined to join the church when the time came. I thought of Will, and it struck me again that if Ella and Ezra did marry, she would then have a direct connection to Will and to the whole Gundy family, something I would never have.
Even as Ella’s first cousin—and therefore vaguely related by marriage—I’d still be, in the end, just poor, single, unconnected Ada, the girl who had never gone anywhere other than here, never done anything, and most of all never been loved by the only man who had ever captured her heart.
FOUR
Ella and I spent the next morning giving Lexie’s house an extra-good cleaning, and even Zed seemed happy to pitch in. Sophie would be driving us to the train station in Portland, and she showed up at 2:30 p.m., exactly as planned. Our train wouldn’t be leaving until almost 5:00, but we were eager to get there, check our bags, and find our departure gate with plenty of time to spare.
The route she took kept us on back roads, winding past farms and alongside woods. As we went Sophie told us this was real “Oregon country,” the place where many of the pioneers who followed the Oregon Trail had settled. I hadn’t heard much about all of that, so I asked her a lot of questions.
“No offense, Ada,” she said finally, “but didn’t they teach you any of this in school? It’s basic American history.”
“We touched on it, I suppose,” I said, startled by the bluntness of her words. “But not so much in depth.”
“The Amish might be big on their own history as a people,” Zed added, speaking to Sophie, “but they are not nearly as concerned with the overall history of the country.”
She nodded thoughtfully, without judgment, but at that moment I felt strangely embarrassed.
“Actually,” she said, slowing to make a turn, “once you start teaching, I would imagine a class discussion of the Oregon Trail might make an excellent jumping-off point for your students. You could talk about what might compel people—all sorts of people, including the Amish—to leave their homeland and make a new start somewhere else far away.
”
“True,” I replied, heat suddenly rising in my cheeks. In the backseat, Ella and Zed grew conspicuously silent.
“Have you finished putting together all of your lesson plans yet?” Sophie continued, unaware of the hornet’s nest she was stirring. “If not, maybe you could find a way to slot it in. Children love to hear stories of the Oregon Trail, and I think knowing that you’ve actually been to this area and seen the region firsthand would make it doubly fascinating for them.”
Even if I had known how to reply, I don’t think my voice could have made a sound. Fortunately, Ella cleared her throat and spoke on my behalf.
“Ada won’t know for sure whether or not she got the teaching job until we get back home,” she said.
“Oh, well. A mere formality, I’m sure,” Sophie replied, accelerating as she merged into a line of cars. “Those people would be fools not to hire you. Anyone can see you’re a natural. You’ve been teaching us about Amish life all week.”
“Thank you, Sophie,” I whispered, and then I looked away, my face turned to the side window, praying I wouldn’t start to cry.
I thought of the text message Ezra had sent to Ella yesterday. Had he been reporting rumor or fact? I still didn’t know, but in the light of this new day I was starting to fear that it was, indeed, the latter.
I kept reminding myself of my only consolation, that something else was brewing back home, something that had to do with going to Europe, and maybe that would end up being even better than the teaching would have been.
Still, vague possibilities from a situation I didn’t even understand paled in comparison to the certainty of a confirmed teaching job. I kept wondering what was wrong with me. Why didn’t they want me? Did they think I wasn’t good enough to teach their children?
Ella spoke from behind me, interrupting my thoughts. “Ada would be, like, the best teacher ever,” she said emphatically. “They would be lucky to have her.”
The Amish Nanny Page 4
