An Amish Christmas: A Novel

by Cynthia Keller

  Meg was amazed by Amanda’s stoicism. Although pale, she stood uncomplaining, leaning against Lizzie and Catherine, while Nina brought the car as close as she could and they helped her maneuver into the back. Then Lizzie came over to join her mother and brother.

  Meg made a quick decision. She turned to her children. “I’m going to the hospital. One of you stay here with the horse, and one of you run and find Jonathan. Tell him about his buggy. Ask him how you should clean up the mess and who can help you. When I get back, there shouldn’t be any trace of this food left.”

  She headed back to the car. Catherine had climbed in the back beside her daughter, whose silence belied the pain in her eyes.

  “Mom—” Lizzie called after her own mother, but Meg yanked open the car door.

  “Just go,” she said.

  At the hospital, Nina and Meg took a seat in the waiting area while Catherine followed her daughter through the inner double doors to the emergency room for an X-ray.

  “Well,” Nina said, “this has turned out to be an even busier day than anyone could have guessed.”

  Meg shook her head. “I don’t know if I’m more angry or embarrassed. My kids have done a lot of things I’m not too proud of since we’ve been staying here, but this …”

  “I heard about you being here. You and David almost crashing into each other. The Lutzes are a wonderful family, aren’t they? You got very lucky when you wound up in their house.”

  Meg smiled. “Yes, but we only wound up there because we nearly killed David Lutz. Not so lucky for him.”

  Nina smiled back at her. “But you didn’t kill him. Instead, you made friends with him.”

  “That’s a very nice way to put it.” Meg felt grateful to her.

  “Happily, it all worked out.”

  Meg grew serious. “I’d like to know how this is going to work out. Let’s see: My kids have injured Amanda, destroyed Jonathan’s buggy, and disrupted Barbara’s wedding. Oh, and wait—last but not least, they ruined the entire restaurant order, which means the family lost that money altogether. All because of their completely thoughtless behavior. It’s not as if they don’t know better.”

  “Take it easy,” Nina said. “It’ll be okay.”

  “You don’t know how incredible these people have been to us,” Meg said. “They’re the last people on earth I’d want to cause trouble for. And to hurt one of their children—I can’t bear it.”

  The other woman put a comforting hand on Meg’s. “Look, if you know them, you know they’re very understanding. Nobody was seriously hurt. That’s what matters.”

  Meg sighed.

  Catherine pushed open one of the double doors and walked over to them. “Her leg is broken, but it’s not such a bad break. They have to put on a cast. We’ll be here for a while. You two go back and enjoy the rest of the wedding.”

  “No, Catherine, don’t be silly,” Nina said. “We’ll wait.”

  “Of course,” said Meg.

  “There is no reason for you to sit here. Go back.”

  Meg shook her head firmly. “Absolutely not.”

  Catherine looked at her and saw she would not be dissuaded. “If you wish.” She turned to go back to her daughter.

  Meg and Nina spent the next hour talking about what it had been like for the Hobarts to experience life on the Lutz farm. Meg was thrilled to be able to discuss some of what she had observed with another non-Amish person who knew about their way of life. They talked about the wedding and all the traditions associated with it. Meg learned from Nina that Barbara and Moses would not go on a honeymoon. As Amanda had partly explained on the night all the women were quilting, they would do what was typical of newlyweds, spending weeks visiting their wedding guests, sometimes making multiple visits in one weekend or traveling far afield. That way they would be ready to get back to work in time for the spring planting.

  Nina was so easy to talk to that Meg felt as if they were old friends. She found herself describing how she had loved baking with the women, the soothing rhythms of the work and the camaraderie. She explained what a privilege it was to be allowed to bake for the wedding meal. Laughing, she recalled her immense relief that multiplying the recipes for her brownies and cookies to feed hundreds of people had worked out.

  At the mention of Meg’s desserts, Nina’s eyes lit up. “You made those? They were fantastic.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “I was wondering where they came from. I assumed it was some distant relative because I’ve never had them at any of the local Amish functions. Well, the ones I’ve been invited to.”

  “I make them every year. My family likes them.”

  Nina leaned in closer to Meg. “You know, I run a small inn about twenty-five miles from here. Every afternoon we serve tea with some kind of biscuit or sweet. Would you consider baking me some brownies and some of those cookies? Or other cookies, if you’ve got any recipes you really love. Give me a price, and if it’s reasonable, I’ll get a few dozen of each, and we’ll try it out. I love to serve things that people can’t get anywhere else.”

  “Really?” Meg was so flattered, she didn’t know what to say. “Are you serious?”

  Nina regarded her with mild surprise. “Well, of course. Why not?”

  Meg smiled. “Yes. Why not?”

  Chapter 14

  Meg approached Annie’s house with dread. After yesterday’s fiasco, she was as embarrassed as she could remember ever having been in her life. Her children, for whom she was responsible, had wreaked havoc on one of the Lutz family’s most important occasions. She was also exhausted, which made her feel even less able to cope with her mortification. Too upset to sleep, when she finally did fall asleep, she was awakened in the middle of the night by what she assumed was a dream in which she heard people moving around downstairs. She kept dozing off only to wake again, thinking she’d heard voices.

  In the morning she learned that she hadn’t been dreaming at all. She had been hearing Barbara and Moses downstairs in the still-dark early morning, following another Amish tradition in which the bride and groom spend their wedding night at the bride’s parents’ house and get up especially early to clean the house. The idea intrigued Meg. So unlike the usual concept of a wedding night. Again, the tradition was about helping the community and each other, not just the individual.

  All the early-dawn cleaning by Barbara and her new husband meant that the downstairs was spotless, but Meg had circles under her eyes and wanted only to crawl back into bed and hide. Amanda was stuck in the house with her leg in a cast, dependent on crutches to get anywhere. The buggy sat in pieces in the barn. And now the Lutz women had to congregate at Annie’s to replace yesterday’s entire order of pies. Miserable, Meg had dragged her feet for as long as she dared before coming over this morning.

  “Mom, wait up.”

  Meg turned to see Lizzie running after her, sliding a bit on the icy ground. Meg had said little to her daughter or to Will since returning from the hospital yesterday.

  Late last night, after they had all gotten back to the house, she had heard James yelling at them for a very long time. She decided that adding her own screaming recriminations wouldn’t help matters. Whatever James had said, it must have gotten through to them, because when the children emerged from the room, they were pale and practically shaking with guilt.

  Now Lizzie caught up to her mother, breathing hard. “I want to come with you. To help. I know you have to make the food all over again.”

  “Okay.” Meg looked at her for a moment. “It’s strange, but I didn’t even think to ask you to help.” She shrugged.

  Lizzie didn’t reply, pursing her lips and looking down.

  When they got to Annie’s house, Meg hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. She was trying to prepare for the silent stares they would receive.

  Inside the kitchen, it was a day like every other, the room fragrant and warm. Leah, Catherine, Annie, and Sue were combining the ingredients for apple and sho
ofly pies. They all glanced up at the appearance of Meg and her daughter, but their greetings were indistinguishable from those of any other time.

  “Good, you are here,” said Catherine, in the process of stirring batter in a large wooden bowl, “so you can measure the flour for the next batch.”

  Perhaps noticing Lizzie’s fearful expression, Sue took the unusual step of handing her an apron instead of letting her retrieve one herself. “After you wash your hands, you can help me slice more apples,” she told Lizzie. Her voice held only friendly politeness.

  Leah offered Lizzie a knife. “Here, you use this one.”

  Meg almost sagged with relief. I could kiss these women, she thought. Even Leah is acting as if nothing has happened.

  She stood next to Annie, who was taking a measuring cup to a large tub of butter.

  “Can you replace everything from yesterday?” Meg asked.

  Annie nodded. “We will make extra pies, but we talked to the store owner.” She smiled. “He will take some of the cookies and pastries we have left from the wedding instead of twice as many pies today. He can’t sell so many pies, but maybe he can sell pies and cookies. So everybody is happy.”

  That’s one problem solved, Meg thought, thanks to the resourcefulness of these women.

  When she found herself next to Catherine later, she tried to think what words might possibly help to make things right. She was unable to come up with any. Nonetheless, she couldn’t pretend nothing had happened. “I’m so very sorry about—”

  Catherine interrupted her. “Thank you. But you think I don’t know how you are feeling about this? I see it on your face. Please don’t be unhappy. You should not be. It was an accident, and nothing so terrible happened. Amanda’s leg will be fine. Everything else can be fixed. It is not important.”

  “Oh, but it is important,” Meg cried. “There’s Amanda, and the wedding and the damage to the buggy—how can you ever forgive us?”

  Catherine stopped what she was doing and turned to look directly at Meg. “It is already forgiven. We believe in this very, very strongly. If we ourselves are to be forgiven, how could we not forgive someone else?”

  Meg felt tears fill her eyes. “You’re an amazing person,” she said.

  “No,” Catherine said, “no more amazing than anyone else. I just follow what I believe, and it always leads me down the right path.”

  Meg felt an enormous weight being lifted from her shoulders. She resisted the impulse to hug Catherine.

  Back at the Lutz house, Meg told James about the conversation. He shook his head. “These people are something else, aren’t they?” he agreed. “Will came out to the barn to help repair the rig, and they were as nice to him as if he’d just stopped by to give them a hand instead of being the one who’d broken the darn thing. Frankly, I think their kindness has made him feel worse.”

  “I guess, in a weird way, it would probably be easier for the kids to deal with everyone being angry at them,” Meg said thoughtfully. “They could shrug it off. They could whine about how they hadn’t meant for anything to happen. You know”—in an exaggerated tone, she mimicked their indignant protests—“ ‘It was an accident. I’m sorry, okay?’ ”

  James smiled at her impression.

  “But no one’s even asking for an apology,” she went on, “so their usual ways of dealing with being in trouble won’t work.”

  “Fiendishly clever,” James said with a laugh. “The worst punishment of all.”

  “But it’s not like the Lutzes even want to punish them,” Meg protested.

  “Among their own people, it’s a whole different thing. But for our kids, it’s like they’re being killed with kindness.”

  “Well,” said Meg, crossing her arms, “we certainly let them get out of control. I feel pretty responsible.”

  “Hey, I agree they’ve been pretty bratty here. But it’s not so shocking that they would act up, given what they’re going through.”

  “Does that justify what they pulled yesterday?”

  He shook his head. “No, not at all. But let’s watch what happens now that they’re dealing with some real consequences for their behavior.”

  They watched what happened almost in disbelief. For the rest of the day, Lizzie was either doing Amanda’s regular chores or sitting beside the younger girl, talking to her, fetching whatever she needed. Will was also busy all day, attempting to help on the rig repairs, then assisting the men who had come to dismantle the extension to the barn. The materials were going straight to the home where the next wedding was to be held.

  Meg suspected the children’s goodwill might wear off by the next day, but on Thursday there was more of the same. Both children served, cleared, and cleaned up after breakfast without a word. Lizzie helped Amanda get to the table and waited on her, making conversation as if they were old friends. Will divided his attention equally among Eli, Aaron, and Sam, a shock in itself to his younger brother. Sam had heard the whole story, but he instinctively understood that it was not a subject he should bring up, much less tease his older siblings about. He acted as if it were nothing new for his brother and sister to be solicitous of him, an extremely wise move on his part, Meg thought.

  Neither Lizzie nor Will showed the slightest sign that they were anything but sincere. Even better for them, no one in the Lutz households appeared to notice—or, in their usual kind way, chose not to notice—that anything was different. Meg and James were careful to follow their lead. They refrained from making any comment that might make Lizzie and Will retreat into a defensive posture.

  To Meg, it was as if some invisible wall around her children had been knocked down, allowing them to drop their air of superiority and get on with the business of being themselves. Or rather, she corrected herself, their best selves. In fact, she realized, they weren’t even arguing with each other anymore.

  At one point, she passed the open door to Benjamin’s bedroom and stopped to stare in amazement. Even though Benjamin was a little better than Will at cleaning up, there hadn’t been much change in the condition of the room. Today Meg saw that, for the first time, Will had made his bed as if he were an army recruit, neat and tight. Everything on his side of the room had been put away, every surface was clean. When she went to look into Amanda’s bedroom, she found more of the same, but the entire room had been gone over thoroughly. This could only have been done by Lizzie that morning, given Amanda’s condition.

  Every time Meg saw her daughter that day and the next, she was either working or attending to Amanda. At one point, Meg found the two girls relaxing on their beds, each with a book in her hand. She stuck her head in the room to ask if they wanted anything. Lizzie looked up over the top of her book to say thanks, they were fine. It was then that Meg saw that her daughter was three quarters of the way through Tom Sawyer. Meg had to turn away in a hurry so Lizzie wouldn’t catch the smile on her face.

  It was more of the same with Will: If he wasn’t hard at work with his father or David, he was outside with Eli and his friends, walking through the snow-covered fields or running off to skate or play ice hockey.

  Both her children initially steered clear of Jonathan, whose buggy they had wrecked, but quickly they saw that even he bore them no ill will.

  When Meg decided it was time to take Nina up on her offer to buy some brownies, Lizzie was right there to help get them ready. Meg decided to bake a few different kinds of cookies along with the oatmeal-cranberry ones. She and Lizzie debated the merits of chocolate versus fruit fillings, and peanut butter flavoring versus coconut. Meg struggled to remember recipes she had made years and years before. They measured and mixed for hours, then watched over their creations, teasing each other about how often the other one wanted to open the oven doors to check. When the cookies came out golden brown, they celebrated with war whoops. As far as Meg was concerned, if that had been the end of the entire endeavor, it would have been well worth it just to have spent that afternoon laughing with her daughter again.

&n
bsp; As it turned out, Nina picked up the food in person. She had wanted to stop by and see how Amanda’s leg was faring. While she was there, she sampled one of everything and pronounced it all wonderful. Before she left, she requested a second, larger batch for the following week.

  Catherine was delighted for Meg. “Now you will have your own business,” she teased Meg as they cleared the table. “I will tell everyone that the master cookie baker got started here.”

  Meg laughed, but she was uncomfortable. Catherine had spoken the thought Meg herself had been too afraid even to voice. Day after day, watching these women turn out the endless pies, cakes, and breads, Meg saw that baking for a business was backbreaking work. Yet it could be done. The business required loving care and constant tending, but it was possible to maintain a small-scale operation. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it had occurred to her that perhaps she could do something like it on her own. But it was a thought she had refused to let herself develop.

  Now, as Catherine voiced the idea, Meg’s spirit lifted hearing her words. But almost as quickly she came up against the same obstacle that was in the way of everything else: She wouldn’t be going back to her own home. She was going to be a guest in her parents’ home, and they would never support such an endeavor.

  Without support, both financial and personal, it would be unmanageable. Her parents didn’t have the equipment, and they would never invest in any—that Meg knew without having to ask. What they would have was an endless list of reasons why the idea was doomed to fail. Now that she thought about it, she wondered what kind of customers she could come up with in a town like theirs, where specialized baked goods were not exactly in high demand.

  No, she quickly realized, it was a pointless idea. She had no kitchen equipment, no money to pay for the initial supplies, no customers beyond Nina, and no prospects for any others.

  She would have to figure out something else.

  Chapter 15

  The buggy approached the house, David Lutz and James barely visible inside. It was late afternoon, and they were returning from a trip to buy some farming supplies. In addition, they had checked on the progress of the Hobarts’ car. Meg and Catherine sat on rocking chairs on the front porch, bundled up against the cold, enjoying a few minutes of quiet conversation before heading inside to start preparing supper.