by Beth Wiseman
Mary hurried down the porch steps and turned to see the twins on the roof.
“Ya! I promise. You will fly. Just jump!” Samuel stood behind his brother, grinning.
“No one is jumping. Sit down right now where you are, and don’t move.” Mary waited until both boys were sitting on the slanted roof before she ran back inside. Leah cried harder and threw her head back so far that Mary almost dropped the baby.
“Rachel Marie, can you please help me find Katie?” Mary didn’t even look at her five-year-old as she began walking from room to room again. Strands of dark hair were coming loose from under Mary’s kapp, so many that she finally yanked it off and put it on the coffee table. “Katie!” she yelled.
Mary spotted movement out of the corner of her eye, so she charged toward the kitchen as the foul trash can odor assaulted her nostrils. She set Leah, still sobbing, on the wood floor, her diaper hanging almost to her knees, and she reached for Katie underneath the kitchen table, grabbing her hand and easing her around two kitchen chairs. The soup warming on the back burner of the stove was boiling now, splashing onto the cooktop surface.
She turned off the burner, scooped up Leah, and took hold of Katie’s hand again. As she hurried across the living room, the front door swung wide.
She gasped, her feet rooted to the floor. “Gabriel,” she said above Leah’s cries as her eyes rounded with surprise. Her husband gave Samuel and John each a gentle push forward. “They were on the roof.” His eyes blazed with fear and worry as his forehead crinkled beneath his cropped brown bangs.
His accusatory voice made Mary want to lash out at him, but instead she stayed quiet. She wasn’t a good mother, and Gabriel had reasons to be angry. Only a week earlier, Mary had lost Rachel Marie at the store. The boys were in school then. She’d had Leah and Katie in a double stroller, but after she’d paid for prescriptions for Rachel at the pharmacy, she’d turned to see her daughter gone. Store security had to make an announcement, and eventually a lady dressed like an elf had returned Rachel Marie to Mary. She recalled how their hired driver shook his head most of the trip home that day also. Mary couldn’t blame him. They’d been late meeting him in the parking lot as planned, and Leah’s diaper had been dirty, leaving an unpleasant smell in the ten-passenger van.
“Mary, it’s starting to rain outside. Why were the boys on the roof? They could have slid off and broken a leg.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Or worse.”
“They got out of my sight.” She raised her chin slightly, determined not to cry. Leah, still in her arms, was sobbing enough for both of them. “You’re home for lunch.” Mary fought the lump building in her throat.
Gabriel took Leah from his wife and carried her into the living room. He’d never seen his father change a single diaper, but Gabriel had changed hundreds. Gabriel’s mother had handled four children just fine, kept a clean house, and prepared three tasty meals each day. How much harder could it be with five children, as opposed to four?
He stilled his hand on Leah’s leg and sniffed the air, cringing. He wasn’t sure which odor was strongest—his daughter’s diaper, the smell of old garbage in the kitchen, or something burnt on the stove.
He pulled back Leah’s diaper and felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him as he eyed the baby’s diaper rash. After he cleaned her and rubbed ointment on the red welts, he put on a new diaper and went back to the kitchen. Mary was making ham sandwiches. Again.
Gabriel slipped Leah into her high chair before he pulled the trash from the can and took it outside, hard pellets of rain stinging his face. He tossed the trash into a pile, hoping stray animals wouldn’t get into it before he had a chance to burn it. Pulling the rim of his straw hat down to protect his face, he ran back to the house, then slowed his pace across the living room, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to have mei mamm come by to maybe help you a little?” Gabriel already knew the answer. Mary resented his mother—her clean house, the aroma of bread and cookies baking when you went inside, and the line of clothes hung promptly each Monday morning before being folded and put away that evening. She doesn’t have five children to tend to, Mary always said, that’s why her house is always perfect. But Gabriel remembered things always running smoothly, even when he was a child.
“Nee, I don’t need any help. I just got a little behind today, and with the twins home from school, I just lost sight of them for a few minutes.” She placed a sandwich in front of Gabriel as she blinked back tears.
He hung his head in prayer, thanking the Lord for his many blessings and the food that nourished their bodies. Even if it was his fourth ham sandwich this week, he was thankful to have food for his family. Then he asked the Lord to help him see a way to help his wife. Please, Lord, she needs help.
Mary had just gotten all the children settled and was about to sit down across the table from Gabriel when someone banged on the door. Gabriel glanced toward the living room, then back at Mary. “Are we expecting someone?” He started to stand up, but Mary walked toward the living room.
When she returned, she stood behind her chair and stared at the envelope in her hand, pressing her lips together, studying it. He hadn’t even noticed her kapp wasn’t on her head until now. Dark strands of hair flowed almost to her waist. Even now, she was still the most beautiful woman on earth. Gabriel loved her with all of his heart, as much today as when they got married eight years ago. But he worried about her and the children when he was at work.
Gabriel finished chewing a bite of his sandwich. “What is it?”
Mary lifted her eyes to his. “It’s a letter that I had to sign for.”
“From who?” Gabriel couldn’t recall ever having to sign anything to get mail.
Mary grinned a little. “The return address says it’s from . . .” She paused, glancing at the envelope again. “It’s from . . . Santa Claus.”
Rachel squealed, then slammed her hands over her mouth, bouncing in her chair as her eyes grew round as saucers. “He is Santa Claus.”
Mary and Gabriel exchanged glances before both of their gazes landed on their oldest daughter. “Rachel Marie, what are you talking about?”
The child slouched into her chair as her bottom lip rolled into a pout. She shrugged. “Maybe just open it.”
Gabriel walked to his wife and looked over her shoulder as she peeled open the envelope with her finger, then pulled out a letter, along with something else.
Mary brought a hand to her chest as she gasped.
Gabriel stopped breathing.
CHAPTER 2
Mary and Gabriel awoke more exhausted than usual. They had spent much of the night discussing what to do about the contents of the letter. Mary, blinking her eyes, bounced Leah and Katie in her lap, praying both girls could hold off on a diaper change until they’d left the fancy waiting area they were in. There were white chairs with chrome legs against one wall with a glass table in between them. On the other side of the room, a tall white shelving unit was filled with sculptures and models of big buildings. She glanced at the twins who were sitting quietly for the moment. Mary felt the boys were over the pinkeye, but Gabriel had thought it best to keep them home one more day, to be safe. Easy for him to say.
Mary dreamed of the day all her children were in school. There would be a short window of time. Leah would start her studies in four years. The twins would be eleven then, with three more years to go. Since Amish children only went to school through the eighth grade, Mary would have three glorious years when all her children were away at the same time. I’m a horrible mother for even thinking that.
But this morning, Gabriel had placed enough fear into the boys that Mary’s sons seemed to have taken heed. Rachel Marie was breathing more shallowly than usual, which was heavy on Mary’s heart, but the doctor had said her new medication might cause such a reaction. Rachel Marie was focused on breathing, and not much else.
Mary had asked her mother-in-law if she might be able t
o watch the children while she ran this errand. All of Mary’s errands had to be done by hiring a driver, even when the boys were in school. Two babies and a five-year-old were too much to handle while she was driving a buggy. Although she’d already heard—repeatedly from Gabriel—how plenty of mothers manage to drive a buggy with several small children in tow.
Elizabeth had declined to babysit, saying she couldn’t keep her grandchildren because she’d come down with a cold. Gabriel didn’t understand how hard it was for Mary to ask for help. Most of the women in their district did just fine without assistance. But what Gabriel also didn’t realize was that Mary asked Elizabeth for help much more than he was aware of. Mary didn’t have the heart to tell her husband that his mother wasn’t interested in babysitting or spending time with her grandchildren. But the woman had successfully raised four kinner. Maybe she’d earned her quiet time.
“Remember what the doctor said.” Mary spoke to Rachel as she continued to bounce Leah and Katie on her lap. “Slow and easy breaths.”
Rachel nodded.
Mary was thankful no one else was in the waiting room besides her and the children. She planned to handle her business here quickly, to be gone less than a minute.
“Why are we here?” Rachel spoke softly as she continued to take slow breaths.
“Remember, I told you. I have a business meeting.” Mary had never been to a business meeting in her life. The closest comparison might be the annual meeting of women to discuss the mud sale held in Penryn.
Rachel Marie had eventually confessed to having waited in line to see Santa Claus. But Gabriel and Mary had decided not to tell Rachel that they were returning Santa’s gift. Rachel’s actions had been wrong, but her heart had been in the right place, Gabriel said. After a gentle scolding, Rachel promised not to do such a thing again, even though their daughter had insisted that she never asked Santa Claus for money, only help for her mother.
Mary could still see the way Gabriel had looked at her when Rachel told them what she said to the Santa man. Mary’s humiliation had suffocated her. Even her five-year-old daughter thought Mary needed help raising her family. But it was Gabriel’s sad eyes that stayed in Mary’s mind.
She would have to endure one more dose of embarrassment today by returning the check in her purse, but she’d never have to see this man again.
Bruce scratched his forehead as he leaned back in his chair. “Why do you think they’re here?”
Joan stood on the other side of his desk with her hands clasped together in front of her. “I don’t know, but I recognize the little Amish girl.” She chuckled. “She called me the elf lady, and I had to confess that I had another job, in addition to being Santa’s helper. And now the mother and all five children are waiting to see you. Maybe she just wants to say thank you.”
“How did she know the money came from me?”
Joan sighed. “Remember, I told you that Michelle, the young woman who helps me a few hours a week, used company letterhead by mistake. I have special Santa Claus letterhead for that type of check, and I even have a post office box and separate account for these things.” She clicked her tongue. “I should have handled it myself.”
“Oh well. I think I give you too much to do anyway.” He smiled, then motioned with his hand. “Go ahead and send them in.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her children.” Joan smiled. “So you two can talk.”
Bruce closed the file that was in front of him and retrieved a yellow notepad from inside his desk. It was only a few weeks until Christmas, so he already had a short list going. His employees received monetary gifts, but he always got something for the young couple who had lived next door to him for the past few years, along with toys for their two children. And he always sent something to Lucy’s parents, although communication between Bruce and his aging in-laws had slowed down over the past year. Bruce wasn’t sure whether that was due to their declining health or the pain associated with the memories they all shared.
Joan pushed the door open and stepped aside so the Amish woman could enter. She wore a traditional dark-blue dress, black apron, and black shoes and socks. Her black purse had a short handle and was draped over her arm. She looked mighty young to already have five children.
Bruce stood up and walked around his desk. “Mrs. King, I presume.” He extended his hand, and after a long hesitation, the woman latched on but withdrew quickly. She pushed an envelope at him.
“Mr. Hanson, while I appreciate your generosity, it would be unthinkable for us to accept money from you.”
Bruce took the envelope, knowing he could convince her to take it back. “Mrs. King, when your daughter visited me, I sensed that—”
“She should have never been in that line.” The woman raised her chin. Not a wrinkle on her face. Dark hair peeked from beneath her prayer covering. “I apologize for any inconvenience Rachel might have caused you.”
Bruce smiled. “I assure you, it’s no inconvenience. But I must ask you, Mrs. King, is Rachel sick? She seemed to have a little trouble breathing that day.”
The woman hung her head for a few moments, and when she looked back at Bruce, her face was bright red. “It’s very embarrassing for mei husband and me that Rachel would ask a stranger for any type of help. We aren’t quite sure why she did this.”
Bruce scratched his chin and asked the question again. “Is your little girl sick?”
Just when Bruce thought this young woman couldn’t raise her chin any higher, she did. “Rachel has a heart condition, but all of her medical expenses are taken care of by our community fund. Thank you again for your offer, Mr. Hanson.” She turned to leave.
“Just so you know . . .”
She turned around, her hand on the doorknob.
“Rachel didn’t ask me for money. She, uh . . . asked me for help for her mother. So I assumed that either you or the child might have a health issue.” Bruce took a few steps toward her and held out the envelope. “I’d like for you to take the money. You never have to pay it back. It’s a gift.”
She dropped her hands to her side, clutching her small black purse in one. “Ya, I know that Rachel didn’t specifically ask for money. Again, I thank you for your generous offer, but I cannot accept.” She tipped her head. “Many blessings to you, Mr. Hanson. I’m sure another family can benefit from your generosity.”
Bruce rubbed his chin as she closed the door.
Mary started her trek to the waiting room, her heart pounding, hoping the woman she’d left in charge of her children hadn’t pulled her hair out. Mary recognized the Englisch woman as the elf who had returned Rachel Marie in the store. Mary held her breath, reached for the doorknob to the waiting room, and braced for chaos.
The elf woman was sitting in a chair with her legs crossed, Leah in her lap, Katie in a chair beside her, the two boys on the floor in front of her, and Rachel Marie was right behind the twins. The woman was reading to her children, and you could have heard a pin drop. Mary had tried countless times to gather her children so she could read to them, and she had deemed it impossible to entertain five children at the same time in a quiet manner. But here was proof that it could be done. Apparently it was only Mary who couldn’t master the task.
The woman smiled. She was older, probably Mary’s mother’s age if her mother were still alive. And she was pretty with wavy, silver hair that framed her face and went almost to her shoulders. But it was trusting gray eyes that Mary homed in on. She desperately wanted to ask this woman how she’d gotten five little ones quiet and entertained.
“You have lovely children.” The woman closed the book she was reading and lifted Leah up to Mary. “And they are so well behaved.” She glanced around at each of Mary’s offspring. “Just lovely, each and every one of them.” She gently put a finger to Katie’s nose, which got a smile out of Mary’s two-year-old. She stood up and faced Mary. “I hope you and Mr. Hanson were able to get your business handled.”
“Ya, we did.” Mary forced a smile, but
her own failures as a parent reared up and smacked her in the face again. “Danki for keeping an eye on the children while Mr. Hanson and I talked.”
“Oh, you are very welcome. My three daughters and grandchildren live in Texas, so I don’t get to see them much. I miss them tremendously.” She smiled again. “It was nice to be around these angels for a while.” Waving a hand around the office, she said, “Mr. Hanson doesn’t have many appointments today, so it’s quiet.”
“I saw on the door that this is a real-estate company. Does Mr. Hanson build houses?” Not that it mattered much to her what the man’s occupation was. She just wasn’t ready to leave the quiet comfort of this room or this woman who seemed to be an angel herself.
“No, not exactly.” The woman reached down and touched Katie’s nose again, invoking another smile. “This is a commercial real-estate development company. He builds office buildings, like the one you’re in.”
Mary looked around. “It’s very fancy.”
“Well, it hasn’t always been. Bruce is a smart man, and he built a strong company with barely any startup.” She stuck out her hand. “By the way, I’m Joan.”
Rachel had stood up from where she’d been sitting on the floor and walked to Mary’s side. “She’s the elf lady,” Rachel said, smiling.
“Ya, I know.” Mary propped Leah up on her hip and shook the woman’s hand. “I’m Mary King.” She glanced at her children, then back at Joan. “Thank you again.”
“Do you and your family need a ride home? I’m assuming this would be quite a haul in a buggy?”
Mary shook her head. “Nee, we have a driver waiting.” If we didn’t scare him off on the way here.
