by Beth Wiseman
“Mammi is here,” she said softly to Rachel, then sighed.
Rachel twisted around to see out the window. She waited until Elizabeth was coming up the steps, then waved.
“What brings you out in this cold?” Mary opened the door for her mother-in-law and stepped aside, quickly closing the door behind her as a burst of cold air entered the room.
Elizabeth’s eyes quickly found Leah and Katie, who were sleeping in the playpen. She stared at them for a long while before she looked at Rachel. “Wie bischt, dear. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m fine, Mammi.” Rachel smiled a little.
Mary fought the awkwardness swirling around them. She’d prayed for years that things would be different between her and her mother-in-law, but she’d decided long ago that Elizabeth wasn’t interested in having more than a polite relationship with her son’s wife and children.
“I can’t stay,” Elizabeth quickly said in a whisper as her eyes drifted to Leah and Katie again, as if she were watching them grow in their sleep.
Of course you can’t. Mary folded her hands in front of her and waited to hear the purpose of Elizabeth’s visit.
“I wanted to let you know that Isaac and I will be traveling by bus to see the girls and their families for Christmas. We’ll be gone two weeks.”
Mary nodded. Gabriel’s sisters lived in Philadelphia, and Elizabeth and Isaac visited them often. Even more so lately. It seemed they went every few weeks to spend time with them. “Danki for letting us know.” Mary swallowed hard. Gabriel didn’t usually say much about his parents’ trips to Philly, but Mary knew it hurt him.
Elizabeth opened her mouth as if she were going to say something but snapped it closed. Instead, she hurried to Rachel, squatted down, and wrapped her arms around Rachel in a tight hug, kissing her tenderly on the cheek.
Mary thought she heard Elizabeth whisper that she loved Rachel, but it was so out of character for Elizabeth that Mary shook the thought away.
“Do you want some coffee?” Mary wasn’t sure she had any coffee since she hadn’t been to the market recently. But she knew her mother-in-law would decline.
“Nee. I must go.” Her eyes drifted to Leah and Katie again, and she kept her gaze on the girls for a few seconds before she turned back to Mary. “Be well, dear.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Mary and squeezed tightly. Mary was too stunned to move at first, but she eventually embraced her mother-in-law.
“Safe travels,” Mary said when Elizabeth finally eased out of the hug and turned to go. There was a part of Mary that wanted to lash out at her mother-in-law, to scream and holler that they all needed her as much as Gabriel’s sisters did, probably more. But another part of Mary longed to rush after Elizabeth and beg her to stay—to show Mary how to be a better mother, maybe even provide some mothering to Mary.
Gabriel’s sisters’ children were all teenagers now. Maybe that was the problem, those children were older and well behaved. Mary had a troop of wild monkeys.
But I love my monkeys.
Mary stared as the van pulled away, then she picked up the dirty dishes from the coffee table and carried them to the kitchen. Gabriel had said repeatedly that the children shouldn’t eat in the living room. But some days it was just easier to give in to them. Choose your battles, Joan had told her.
As she got a whiff of Samuel’s leftover boiled egg on the plate, she hurriedly placed the dishes in the sink, then threw an arm across her stomach, hoping she made it to the bathroom.
I can’t believe I’m having another child. She recalled her conversation the night before with Gabriel, when she’d cried and been pitiful. Why can’t I handle my family the way other mothers do?
CHAPTER 8
Gabriel stood up when Joan walked into the room, closing the door rather loudly behind her. “I’m Mary’s husband.”
After they’d exchanged greetings, Joan folded her hands in front of her, lifted her chin, then asked how she could help him.
“I think you are friends with my wife.”
She smiled slightly. “Well, I thought we were becoming friends, but then I was told you weren’t comfortable with that.”
“I, uh . . .” Gabriel scratched his forehead, wishing he had better prepared what he would say. “Do you want to come back to our house to see my wife?”
Joan stared at him for a few seconds, and Gabriel wondered if she was going to throw him out. “Let’s sit down.” She nodded toward the couch.
Gabriel sat down, his foot tapping again. He stilled it when Joan cut her eyes in his direction and lifted an eyebrow.
“Mary is a lovely girl,” she said. “I felt called to reach out to her. But I’ve lived in Lancaster County my entire life, and I do realize that some Amish folks prefer to keep to themselves.” She sent him a thin-lipped smile. “Having said that, I was told that you would prefer I not visit. What has changed?”
“I made a mistake.” Gabriel lowered his gaze for a few seconds before he met the woman’s eyes again. “Can I beg you to come back and visit with my wife sometime? I’m worried about her.”
Joan’s blue eyes softened as her smile took on a more genuine look. “Hon, you don’t have to beg me. I’d be happy to pay her a visit soon.”
“I don’t know why she can’t seem to tend to our household, but she said you helped her organize her time.”
Joan scowled. “What exactly do you do? I mean, you work, right?”
“Ya, ya. After we pull the harvest in, I work at the lumberyard through the holidays and until it’s time to plant our crop.”
Joan nodded. “I see. And then at home, you help with the children at night, right?”
Gabriel straightened. “Sometimes I have to. Mary just can’t keep up with our home and family.” He shook his head. “I’m hoping maybe you can help her more with that organizing of her time.”
Joan grinned, but it was that funny-looking smile that didn’t show any teeth. “Oh, I think I can help her line out a schedule.”
Gabriel felt a wave of relief. “Gut. That would be kind of you. She hasn’t really had anyone to learn from. Her folks have passed, and she didn’t have any siblings, so having a big family isn’t familiar to her. And my parents are, um . . .” He looked past her, not sure how to explain his parents. “They’re busy.” Gabriel’s heart got heavy when he faced the truth, that his parents didn’t want to be around his unruly children. “I feel like if Mary is less stressed, then things will be better all around, especially since she’s in a family way again.”
Joan’s jaw dropped. “You people do know how that happens, right?”
Gabriel’s eyes rounded as heat radiated up his neck and surely filled his cheeks with color. “Sure. Ya. But a baby is a gift.”
“Of course it is. But a woman must be able to maintain her sanity too.” Joan stood up, and Gabriel figured that was his clue to do the same. “I’ll be by next Friday to visit with Mary.”
“I’ll let her know. Danki.” Gabriel was on a tight budget, but he wondered what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. “Should I pay you for this?”
She tapped him once on the arm. “No, hon. Kindness is free.” She smiled and walked toward the door, opening it for him. “Take care now.”
He left the room and nodded to the older man who had been waiting in the hallway.
Bruce walked into his office, but he wished he hadn’t. Joan was all bristled up, her chin high, her eyes blazing as she peered at him. He reminded himself that he was the boss, but like always, it didn’t feel like it.
“Everything okay?” He held his breath, mostly referring to the Amish man who had visited, but also wondering if he had a verbal lashing coming.
“That was Mary King’s husband. He has decided that maybe it’s not such a bad idea for me to stay friendly with his wife.”
“It’s very nice of you to take an interest in her well-being.”
“I told you—and Mary’s husband—that I feel called to help th
at young woman.” She shook her head, frowning. “She’s pregnant again, with her sixth child.”
“The Amish always have a lot of kids.”
“Yeah, I know. But some mothers, even Amish ones, need help.” She pointed a finger at Bruce, and his heart rate picked up. “I am very disappointed in you for the way you spoke to me earlier. If I was in a relationship with Matt or anyone else, I certainly wouldn’t carry on in the office.” She leaned forward a little. “And I’m not in a relationship with anyone. It was dinner with a colleague, that’s all.”
Bruce took a cleansing breath. “Okay, that’s good.”
Joan took a step closer to him and tipped her head to one side, squinting slightly. “But Bruce, I would like to spend the rest of my life with someone. I’ve been alone for a long time.”
Bruce hadn’t been alone for as long as Joan, and sometimes he could barely stand to be in the same room with himself. He’d started talking to Whiskers at home recently, but his finicky feline didn’t pay much attention, mostly yawning when he heard Bruce’s voice. “I hope you find someone,” he said softly. Glad it’s not Matt.
“Me too.”
After she’d left his office, Bruce poured himself into his chair, then spun around to look at the pictures of Lucy on his credenza. “Should I be trying to find someone too, Lucy?” He counted six framed pictures as he studied each one, the events scanning decades. A trip to Oklahoma for a friend’s wedding. Another at the Mexican Riviera. His favorite was a close-up of just Lucy sitting on their deck at home, her dark hair swept up into a loose bun. He looked at the other photos, allowing himself to feel the sting from her absence, and then his eyes drifted back to the close-up. Leaning closer to the picture, he whispered, “What should I do?”
Pray.
He heard the word loud and clear in his mind. Did he imagine it?
“I haven’t prayed in a long time,” he said softly as he reached out to touch the photo. “Maybe I’m not worthy anymore.”
Pray.
He closed his eyes, leaned his head back against his chair, then opened them and looked back at the picture. “I don’t know what to pray for.”
Mary finished bathing Leah and Katie, and as she dried Leah off, she could faintly hear Samuel and John in their room. They’d missed devotion time this afternoon, but when Gabriel wasn’t home to pray with them, things tended to fall apart. And Gabriel was working late this evening, taking inventory at the lumberyard.
She kissed the babies before she lay each one in her respective crib, knowing Leah would cry for a while before she slept. Joan had assured Mary that was okay, as long as it didn’t go on for too long. Mary closed the door to the girls’ room, and Leah started to whimper right away, but Mary forced herself down the hall. She picked up a pair of black socks in the hallway, checked on Rachel Marie, who had fallen asleep early, and then peeked into John and Samuel’s room, telling them each good night.
As she trudged down the stairs, she was pretty sure she could have sat down where she was and just fallen asleep. But when she hit the landing at the bottom of the stairs, she made her way to the couch and curled up at one end. A few minutes of sleep before Gabriel got home would do wonders, and she could devote quality time to her husband.
She wrapped a hand across her stomach as she wondered if this new life would be a boy or a girl. Gabriel would want another boy, someone to help in the fields when he was older. Before she even closed her eyes, she heard Gabriel’s buggy coming, so she forced herself up and into the kitchen. She’d kept a pot of chicken and dumplings warm on the stove for him.
Despite her exhaustion, she was grateful that the children were fed, clean, and in bed. She met Gabriel with a hug and a kiss, then served him his supper.
“Aren’t you eating?” He took a big spoonful of the soup, blowing on it before he slid it into his mouth.
“I already ate.” Yawning, she kept her eyes on him, hoping for the tiniest compliment, that the soup was good. Or maybe he would notice that all of the children were tucked into bed. The house wasn’t particularly clean by Gabriel’s standards, but it was tidy, void of toys or other miscellaneous items strewn here and there. But he was quiet.
“I spoke to your friend Joan today,” he finally said, glancing up at her. “She’ll be here next Friday to visit with you.”
Mary took in a sharp breath and held it before she blew it out slowly. “To visit with me?”
“Ya. I told her I made a mistake by forbidding you to see her.” He shoveled another spoonful of soup into his mouth. “She’ll help you organize your time again.”
Mary tapped a finger to her chin as her bottom lip trembled. “It was one thing when my friendship with Joan progressed naturally, but it embarrasses me that you would go to her that way. I basically cut her out of my life before we’d even had a chance to get to know each other. Because of you.”
Gabriel paused his full spoon and set it in the bowl. “Well, I made things right today. I thought you’d be glad about that.”
Mary and Gabriel rarely had words. Mostly because Mary just went along with everything Gabriel said. But tonight she wasn’t feeling so compliant. She was tempted to tell him to go see Joan again and to cancel the visit, but somehow that seemed like she’d lose in the end. Joan really had shown kindness and compassion to Mary, and Mary had looked forward to getting to know Joan better.
She decided to change the subject. “Your mudder was here today. She wanted to let me know that she and your father are going to Philadelphia for Christmas.”
Gabriel cast his eyes down and stirred his soup. “Ya, okay.”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that they spend so much time with your sisters and their families, even though they must travel by bus to do so?” The issue of Gabriel’s family never coming around was usually an off-limits topic, but Mary wasn’t up for any charades this evening. “I know they love us, but they also seem to avoid us for the most part.”
“They don’t avoid us.” Gabriel’s voice was louder than before. “Maybe they just don’t feel comfortable here.”
Mary sat taller, the quiver in her lip returning. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Gabriel shrugged before he resumed eating.
He was placing blame on her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Had Mary done everything she could to have a good relationship with his parents? I thought I had. Then she recalled the way Elizabeth had behaved earlier, how she was overly affectionate.
They were quiet for a while, then Mary said, “Do you think anything is wrong? I mean, maybe someone is sick, one of your sisters, or even one of your parents.” She paused, thinking of Rachel Marie. “I hope it’s nothing with one of the kinner.”
“I’m sure everyone is fine.”
Mary put two fingers against her lips, thinking and knowing she should just leave the subject alone, but there was plenty of history to rebuke Gabriel’s comment. “We didn’t know for almost a month when your father fell and hit his head. And we didn’t know for three months that your mother miscarried a baby. We also weren’t told about the fire in the kitchen until after all the repairs were made.”
Gabriel put his spoon in his empty bowl, hard enough that Mary feared it might have cracked the china. “They are private people, but that doesn’t mean anyone is sick.” He pushed his chair back from the table and left the room.
Mary called after him, but he didn’t turn around. She should have known better than to mention the possibility of an illness to Gabriel. Her husband was a strong man of faith, but ever since Rachel Marie’s heart diagnosis, he was sensitive—and terrified— about anyone getting sick. Mary understood that, but if any of their children got so much as a cold, Gabriel panicked.
As a tear slid down her cheek, she folded her arm across her stomach again. All she’d ever wanted was a big and loving family. But no one ever told her how much work it would be. And no one ever told her how hard marriage could be.
By the time she’d readied
herself for bed, Gabriel was sleeping. She eased into bed beside him, lay on her side, and faced him.
What has happened to us, Gabriel?
CHAPTER 9
Bruce was finishing up a phone call when Joan walked into his office, her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. He hastily ended the call with a potential client.
“What’s wrong?”
“My car won’t start.” She rolled her eyes. “Again. I just got it out of the shop, and they assured me the problem was fixed. I’m supposed to go visit with Mary King today, the Amish woman.”
“Just take mine.” Bruce reached into his pocket, but Joan was already shaking her head.
“You know I can’t drive a stick shift.”
Bruce had never understood how someone their age had never learned to drive a standard. “I’ll take you over there.”
Joan let go of her hips and dropped her hands to her sides. “That would be great. I told her I’d be there around ten. I had a few things to catch up on here this morning.”
Or maybe you just wanted to see Matt? Bruce stowed the thought, deciding not to borrow trouble this early on a Friday morning.
“I’ll be ready in about an hour, if that works for you.”
Bruce nodded, then realized he was looking forward to getting out in the sunshine, even if it was just for a drive down the road to Amish country.
Joan rubbed her hands together in Bruce’s car, so he adjusted the heater to a warmer setting. Through his dark sunglasses, he navigated his way down Lincoln Highway, noticing the glittery wreaths and swags of Christmas lights strung overhead blowing gently in the breeze. He recalled his Christmas last year, another holiday without Lucy. He’d spent it sitting in his recliner looking through old pictures, having told the world that he had plans on that day. Including Joan. He’d regretted lying to her ever since. He hoped she didn’t ask what he was doing this year. Although, with Phillip gone, she’d be facing her first Christmas alone in years. Or maybe she’ll spend it with Matt.
