by Sarah Price
After proper introductions were made to the other guests, Grace walked arm in arm between Charlotte and Lizzie, chattering away about her summer with Elinor, her dearest friend and cousin on her maem’s side. With Frederick dispatched to Pennsylvania to help Charles, she had been sent away to be cared for by Elinor’s family, she stated. However, Lizzie wondered if the situation with George had anything to do with the young woman’s trip.
“I think I’m planning on joining the church in the spring,” she confided to Lizzie.
“That’s a big decision,” Lizzie replied, but with an approving smile. “And in the spring, ja? We usually have our baptisms in October.”
Grace nodded. “We have baptisms twice a year. I know most places only have them in autumn, but we have a large number of youths in our district.” There was a moment of silence before Grace leaned forward. “You must have a large district too,” she whispered. “With such large families.”
“We have twenty-two families in our g’may, but most of the youths are older, it seems,” she admitted.
“You have four siblings, ja? What’s that like?”
Lizzie laughed. “I suppose I cannot answer that, just like you probably couldn’t tell me what it’s like to not have four siblings. Although you do have Frederick . . . ”
Grace glanced at him, a look of adoration in her eyes. “Ja, he’s a right gut bruder to me. Yet he’s so much older. Sometimes I feel that he’s more like a daed.” She returned her attention to Lizzie. “Nothing like having a sister, I’m sure.”
Lizzie noted the wishful longing in the girl’s voice and realized that, had she accepted Frederick’s proposal and become his fraa, Grace would have gotten her wish: a sister. And Lizzie knew that being an older sister to Grace would be a much more rewarding job than being an older sister to Mary, Catherine, and Lydia.
For the next half an hour everyone sat and talked in the small sunroom where the resting sofa and rocking chairs were located. Frederick had gone into a closet to fetch some folding chairs, setting them in a circular fashion so that everyone could visit in comfort. Most of the discussion centered on the summer crops and how bountiful they had been. There was also discussion about some of the recent visitors who had stopped by to pay their respects to Christiana, at least four families in the last week alone!
At the mention of visitors Christiana interrupted herself and abruptly turned to her niece. “Anna, fetch that letter that arrived here yesterday,” Christiana demanded, pointing to the desk on the far side of the room. As Anna obediently obliged, slowly standing to begin crossing the room without one word, Christiana turned to look at Lizzie. “It’s a letter meant for you, Elizabeth, delivered here by mistake. I meant to have someone run it up to the Kaufman’s, but I knew that you would be here today and whatever news was in the letter could probably wait.”
A letter? Whoever would have written to her while she was in Ohio? Curiosity got the best of her and Lizzie turned to watch as Anna began shuffling papers and opening drawers, her shoulders hunched over and the glasses on her nose slipping so that she had to push them back in order to search the desk. When she found the letter, she carried it to Lizzie and politely handed it to her.
“Danke,” Lizzie managed to say, her heart breaking for the frail woman before her that had expectations of marriage to a man who Lizzie knew had feelings for another. Yet, despite that knowledge, Lizzie knew that a second offer of marriage would not be forthcoming. Her heart sank as she glanced around the room, too aware that everyone was watching her. “It’s from my sister Jane.”
“Well, read it, child!” Christiana insisted with an impatient wave of her hand. “We won’t mind if you do.”
Reluctantly and with a minor feeling of irritation at being told what to do by a woman she barely knew, Lizzie opened the envelope and began to read the words. She felt the color drain from her cheeks as her eyes stared at each sentence, so carefully placed on the page. She knew from the silence in the room that everyone was watching her, and she tried to maintain her composure. Yet she could not help the tears that came to her eyes as she read the terrible news from the hand of her sister Jane: Lydia had run off with George Wickey.
“I . . . I must return to the house,” she whispered, standing quickly and hurrying to the door. She heard chairs scraping against the floor and knew that Charlotte was starting to follow her. But she simply could not share the news with Christiana Bechler or the Detweilers.
Without glancing back, Lizzie ran down the lane and cut through the pasture to retreat to the safety of the Kaufman home. Once inside she ran to her room and threw herself on the bed, the letter still clutched in her hand. The tears flowed freely now for the awful truth that Jane’s words had contained. She could only imagine how distraught Maem must feel at Lydia’s betrayal of the entire family. And with someone like George Wickey!
“Lizzie!”
She knew that she had to tell Charlotte but dreaded leaving the room. It was as though the secret was not real as long as no one else knew it. Yet she also knew that she had no choice but to share it with her friend. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she opened the door and, to her surprise, saw Frederick standing beside Charlotte.
“What has happened?” Charlotte asked.
“It’s Lydia,” Lizzie managed to say. She glanced at Frederick but could not maintain eye contact. “She’s run off.” A sob escaped from her lips, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “With George Wickey!”
“What?”
Frederick inhaled sharply and narrowed his eyes.
Upon seeing his reaction, she felt the tears start to flow from her eyes. What must he think, she wondered, horrified that he was there to hear such awful news. “She’s ruined, Charlotte! They were discovered missing after the singing last week, and someone saw them at the Beachey farm . . . alone!”
“Oh, help!” Charlotte whispered.
“But that’s not the worst of it! She disappeared with him a few days later . . . to Philadelphia!”
Charlotte collapsed onto a chair, her eyes staring at the floor. There were no words to describe how they felt, for they knew that Lydia’s choice had most likely ruined her chances of finding a proper suitor now that speculation would run through the Amish grapevine about her time alone with George.
“Where are they now?” Frederick asked, his voice calm and even.
Lizzie managed to look at him. “I don’t know. This letter was dated three days ago.”
“You leave tomorrow?”
She nodded.
“Would you like for me to find a driver to leave immediately? To take you back at once?”
She hesitated. Who would drive on a Sunday? If only that could be arranged, she knew that she would feel better. But to make such an imposition was not worth it, she told herself. “Nee,” she said, fighting the tears that welled in the corner of her eyes. “What is another day at this point?”
He studied her for a moment then nodded his head.
Lizzie wondered why no one had called her, why she had heard this news from a letter. Wilmer had a phone in the barn with an answering machine. She decided that they had not wanted to tell her while she was away, and they were waiting for her return so as not to upset her. Yet Jane had been wise enough to mail a short letter so that Lizzie would know what to expect when she returned.
“Ruined at sixteen,” she mumbled and noticed Frederick grimace. She knew that he was thinking of his own sister and how close Grace had come to falling into the same trap. At one time Grace had thought herself in love with George. Clearly Lydia must have felt the same way, for certainly her youngest sister, while foolish and immature, would not do such a thing on a mere whim!
Chapter Twenty
THE HOUSE WAS morbidly quiet when she entered early Monday afternoon. The kitchen was a mess, dishes piled high in the sink. Unfolded clothing and sheets were piled onto the table. The floor looked as though no one had swept it in a week. Lizzie set her lone suitcase down on th
e floor and looked around, disgusted with the chaos that greeted her.
She heard a noise come from her parents’ bedroom, and she ventured toward the closed door. Weeping. She knocked once, twice, then opened the door, surprised to see Jane, Mary, and Catherine seated on the bed, offering comfort to their maem.
“What on earth?”
Catherine jumped up and ran toward her older sister. “Oh, Lizzie, it’s just so awful!”
Jane caught Lizzie’s eye and shook her head, indicating that no one dare know about her letter.
“Lydia has run off with George Wickey!”
With a quick look around the room Lizzie tried to assess everyone’s reaction to Catherine’s proclamation. Maem wept even harder, the pile of tissues that surrounded her on the bed deep enough to tell Lizzie that she had not moved much from that spot since the news was uncovered. Mary seemed pale and forlorn, with nothing in particular to say.
“What is this about?” Lizzie demanded impatiently. “Could someone please explain?”
The story quickly unfolded in more detail than Jane’s letter had described. It was clear that a mild flirtation had been occurring between George Wickey and Lydia for far longer than anyone realized. After Charles returned to Ohio, George had disguised his favor toward Lydia by appearing to call on Lizzie. With Lizzie gone visiting to Ohio, George had convinced Lydia to go riding with him in his buggy late at night, after the family was asleep.
Daed suspected something was going on when he heard pebbles being thrown at a window. He hadn’t thought much of it until the morning. But he noticed buggy marks in the dirt at the end of the driveway along with grass that was pressed down, indicating that a horse had been standing there. However, he never suspected Lydia. It was normal for young men to come calling under the cover of night, and he suspected it was for one of the older girls.
Lydia’s birthday had given her more of a free rein. At sixteen she could now attend singings and be courted. George had not waited more than one single day after her birthday to escort her home from the singing. Only he did not bring her home. Instead he took her to his farmhouse, and another Amish man had spotted them leaving the house late that evening.
It hadn’t taken long for the Amish grapevine to begin circulating the story of their unsupervised time alone. With the house in an uproar over Lydia’s newly compromised reputation, something that Maem lamented morning, noon, and night, it had been easy for George to convince Lydia to run off with him several nights later. A driver reported that he had taken them to the train station, and that was the last anyone had heard of them. Thursday morning, as soon as Daed discovered Lydia missing, he immediately went to the Beachey farm to find Lydia and confront George. What he found, instead, was a herd of cows in agony from not having been milked or fed.
That had been when Jane had written to Lizzie.
Since then, Daed had taken care of both farms, demanding that Mary and Catherine assist him while Jane tended to their maem and to the house. He hadn’t asked for help from the community, for he was too embarrassed that his daughter had shamed the family. Maem had barely left the bedroom, spending her days weeping and crying over the humiliation of Lydia’s actions.
“This is ridiculous!” Lizzie announced. “Lydia isn’t even a baptized member of the church!”
Maem wailed louder.
“She has shamed no one but herself! And with someone as unworthy as that George Wickey!”
Jane gasped at Lizzie’s uncharitable words.
Lizzie shook her head. “I fail to see why that is so disturbing to anyone! Look what he has done! If that is whom Lydia wishes to be aligned with, so be it! To lie around and cry, why . . . I can’t think of anything worse to do!”
Without another word Lizzie left the room and immediately began to tackle the chore of cleaning the kitchen. She let her anger guide her response to her youngest sister’s horrible decision to do something so rash and disreputable. And it bothered her even more that such an action by a young, wild girl could reflect on the rest of the family.
She stopped washing the dishes and caught her breath.
Wasn’t that exactly what Frederick had said back in Ohio when they had been discussing the issue about young Amish girls hanging out of the buggy? Hadn’t she been the one to say that it reflected on the family while Frederick had stated that it was the fault of the youth alone? Yet now that her own family was disgraced, Lizzie found herself agreeing with him that a family should not be judged because of the actions of one member. But if that were so, then why had he discouraged Charles from pursuing Jane? Jane, who was the soul of discretion, even if her maem wasn’t?
“Oh,” she whispered, suddenly realizing how Grace’s actions must have affected Frederick. He had already experienced the pain—and the shame—of family disgrace. Perhaps he had been hoping to save Charles from a similar fate. Knowing the conflicting emotions that coursed through her at this moment, she couldn’t really blame Frederick for his abundance of caution.
The following morning Daed discovered a phone call on the answering machine: a message from the bishop. Apparently—the bishop had reported—Lydia and George had returned to Leola and were back in residence at the Beachey farm. Daed explained this to the rest of the family, a dazed look on his face.
“And, what’s more,” he continued with a complete lack of expression in his voice, “they are married.”
“Married?” Maem repeated in disbelief.
Daed nodded his head. “It appears that they eloped, then they came back and went begging to the bishop to be baptized in October in order to become members of the Amish church.”
Immediately, Maem’s demeanor changed. Any tears that had been in her eyes dried practically instantly as she, once again, repeated the word: “Married!” She took a deep breath and almost smiled. “Why, that’s wunderbaar gut news indeed!”
Lizzie watched the conversation between her parents as if she were watching a volleyball game. Her mind whirled as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard. If it was wunderbaar gut news, that was yet to be seen. However, by eloping and returning to the bishop—something that Lizzie had never heard of occurring before in her lifetime—Lydia was not disgraced. Not fully.
Yet, deep down, she knew that George Wickey was not an honorable man. Wasn’t this the same course of action that George had adopted in Ohio? Hadn’t Frederick told her that George had preyed on Grace Detweiler when she too had turned sixteen? And for what? A parcel of land? What was it that George wanted this time? He already had charge of the Beachey farm and had abandoned it, leaving it untended for almost a week! Thankfully her daed had been able to care for the dairy herd. And, after such a disgraceful elopement, there was hardly any chance that Daed would permit them to live on his farm.
“I want to go see them,” Maem announced.
Lizzie got into the conversation when she heard that. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said slowly. “Receive her here in a few days or even weeks, Maem, but don’t go there.”
“Why ever not?”
“I think this should simmer down a bit,” Lizzie tried to explain. She could only imagine how Lydia would behave, and based on her own emotions in dealing with the stress and anguish that had befallen the family, Lizzie knew that she wanted nothing to do with either one of them. “After all she has put us through, I think you should wait a spell.” She glanced at her maem. “For the benefit of us all.”
Maem started to argue, but Daed quickly held up his hand and stopped her midsentence. Immediately Daed agreed with Lizzie, recognizing the wisdom of his daughter’s statement. However, it was decided that he would stop by the Beachey farm to confront his youngest dochder and new husband alone and find out exactly what had occurred. He also wanted to make certain that George was taking care of the animals properly.
Lizzie suspected that there was more to Daed’s intended visit. Knowing her daed as well as she did, she figured that he wanted to have a private word or two with b
oth his youngest dochder and this irresponsible man who had, unexpectedly, become his first son-in-law.
Chapter Twenty-One
IT WAS ALMOST a week after Lizzie returned from Ohio when she first saw Lydia.
Lizzie had arrived at church with her family early in order to greet people. They had decided to go together and face their fellow church members on what was the first worship service since Lydia had run off with George Wickey. Despite the news of their youngest dochder’s wedding, both Maem and Daed were still smarting from the humiliation caused by the actions of their daughter. Lizzie and Jane had whispered about how to deal with the situation and provide the best possible support to their parents. They decided that attending the service together, as a family, so that they could stand by their parents and surround their maem with love and support was, indeed, the best way.
However, upon their arrival, Maem soon found herself flocked by her friends, who demanded the latest information and updates about Lydia’s unexpected behavior and ensuing marriage. While Lizzie was certain that many people speculated about a possible underlying reason for the hasty marriage, she could hear her maem immediately putting that gossip to rest by happily telling everyone that George was a wunderbaar and most welcomed addition to the family. A family, she added, whose growth she genuinely looked forward to, as she was eager to become the happy grossmammi of many boppli to bless the union at some point in the far distant future.
Only time would quell that rumor, Lizzie thought wryly.
Despite all of Maem’s proclamations of family bliss, she was hard pressed to maintain her composure when Lydia walked into the building with George following two steps behind her. In fact, a general hush filled the room and every eye was trained on the newly married couple.
For many members of the g’may, this was the first time they had seen George Wickey, for this was certainly the first worship service he had attended. He looked stiff and uncomfortable in his Sunday suit, avoiding eye contact with the Blank family and retreating to the side of the room where the younger men were gathered. A few of them, the unmarried ones who had not taken their kneeling vow as of yet, seemed to have already made George’s acquaintance, a fact that made perfect sense to Lizzie now. Those nights after the storm, when he had disappeared and not returned until the early morning hours, he most likely had been with a group of friends on a wild rumschpringe, two of whom were standing with him now. Lizzie easily recognized them as having developed a rather questionable reputation as of late.
