Sisters of the Quilt

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Mary grabbed a clean apron and dress off a peg and passed them to Hannah. Taking the clean clothes, Hannah padded into the bathroom. A vision of the monster who had fathered the baby jolted Hannah, and she bristled against Mary’s suggestion.

  Talking from the other room, Mary changed the topic. “You’ll miss our shower when you move back home.”

  Tuning out Mary’s effort at general niceties, Hannah closed the bathroom door and leaned her forehead against it. She and Mary were long overdue for returning to normal life. But when the news of her pregnancy spread, she would no longer be welcomed at the Yoders’. And her father wasn’t going to let her move back home unless she set things right with the church leaders.

  What am I going to do?

  Her future with Paul was destroyed. The pain of that was so deep it hurt to breathe. She’d known all along if he knew the truth, it would end everything. Her best efforts at concealing the pregnancy had failed.

  She finally moved to the tub and flicked on the water. The only thing left to do was to make plans for the baby. Hannah’s life was over, but a new life was growing inside her, preparing to embark on its own journey on this planet.

  She sat on the side of the tub, moving her hands over her swollen stomach. The baby was still now, quieted for a nap, she supposed. Pulling the lever on the faucet, Hannah started the shower running. Amid all the heartache and embarrassment clinging to her, a new desire sprang forth. She eased to the bathroom door and listened. Mary had left the bedroom. Tiptoeing through the room to the dresser, Hannah kept her eye on the bedroom door. She opened the drawer with the stethoscope, wanting to hear the infants heartbeat. But she didn’t want Mary to see her. It was a private thing, something between a mother and her child.

  As she grabbed the stethoscope, she shuddered. A mother?

  Hurrying, she slid out of her dress, put the stethoscope in her ears, and began searching for a heartbeat. Unable to find it, she flicked the water off and listened again. After a minute of moving the stethoscope around, she heard a whooshing noise. That had to be it. It was rhythmic, like Mary’s heartbeat, but much faster.

  Chills covered her. Like Mary’s heartbeat?

  Oh, dear God, it’s a real baby.

  She had known that, hadn’t she?

  Listening to its blood flow through the tiny chambers of its heart, she had to admit the truth. She’d realized it was alive, but she’d wished over and over it wasn’t. She’d known it was growing and that it had the power to ruin her and Paul. But never, not once, had she had a suspicion that it was as precious as Mary’s heartbeat. She took the stethoscope out of her ears and dropped it on the floor.

  Placing her hand over her belly again, the baby balled up under it, as if responding to its mother. Remorse entered Hannah’s heart. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  She took a deep breath and stepped into the shower. As the warm water soothed her taut, sore muscles, she tried to ignore the awful grief of losing Paul. She put her face under the showerhead and let the pelting water rinse away her tears. As she leaned against the shower wall, visions of Paul’s angry face haunted her. He’d had no mercy for her, only judgment.

  God, help me, please.

  An image of a tan-skinned, young Jewish girl, about Hannah’s age, formed a vision in her mind’s eye. That girl had been pregnant before she was married too. The picture lasted less than a second, but suddenly Hannah didn’t feel so alone. A sense that God had not abandoned her, and didn’t intend to, strengthened her.

  This sense of God was a welcomed one, and it wasn’t completely new. She’d felt His closeness and acceptance after Luke had spewed his venom on her, before Matthew showed up at the Yoders’ barn back in October. But within a month she learned she was pregnant, and from there most thoughts of God were far from her as she desperately tried to hide her pregnancy from Paul. Oddly, God didn’t seem angry with her about it. He seemed more than willing to step in and comfort her. She propped her palms against the shower wall, muttering confessions of her weakness. Tears clouded her eyes, but they weren’t from sorrow or self-pity. She’d tapped into joy, unbelievable as that was. As the thoughts gave her courage, she knew what had to be done. This infant and she were connected. It didn’t belong to its father; it belonged to the Father. That’s who Hannah would pray the child would take after: its heavenly Father.

  As she got out of the shower and dressed, her thoughts spun with snippets of hope. But all traces of good feelings aside, her reality hadn’t changed a bit. So now what? Pinning her wet hair into a bun, she searched for answers.

  Although Mary wasn’t in the room with her, the memory of her soft voice filtered through Hannah’s soul. We could surround the little thing with love, no?

  She ran her hand over her stomach. Suddenly another understanding poured into Hannah’s mind. Love—real, God kind of love—gave the infant worthiness, because in life each being was both worthy and unworthy at the same time. A tiny bolt of laughter ran through Hannah. “Yes, Mary. Yes, we can surround this baby with love.”

  Mary listened without interrupting as Hannah paced the room, explaining her decision to keep the baby. Mary nodded. “We will cherish the babe because it is, simply because it is.”

  Going from one end of the room to the other, Hannah voiced her thoughts. “I have no money and a baby on the way. How will we do this?”

  “Ach, Hannah, you’ll have to get the support of your family and our community. I can see no other way. Our parents inherited their homes. Luke and I have a place because people donated money and their labor. You can’t provide for a baby on your own.”

  A slow pain worked its way through Hannah’s back and around her abdomen. It intensified, and she grabbed the back of the couch, waiting for it to ease. When the discomfort stopped, she took a breath.

  Mary held up her index finger, telling Hannah to wait. She dashed into the bedroom and came back holding Hannah’s Kapp in her hands. Mary had scrubbed it clean and, by the looks of it, had probably spent over an hour ironing it. “It’s time for this, no?” Mary held it out to her.

  Hannah closed her eyes, feeling the weight of joining the church bear down on her. She placed her hands under her round belly and stared at the ever-growing ball before she moved to the window. As she watched the barren trees sway in the winds, she wondered if she’d always feel this trapped.

  “Hannah, I see no other choice. Your father will not help you if you don’t come under the church’s leadership, and he won’t allow anyone else in the community to help you either … even if they would. Even my Daed is not going to allow us to remain close if your father is set against you.”

  Hannah leaned her forehead against the cold window. “Oh God, help me.”

  Mary placed her hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “He is helping you, but to take the help He’s provided, you must put this on.”

  Hannah turned and studied the sheer Kapp.

  “I’ll be behind you every step of the way.”

  Mary was right; it was the only way. “Yes, it’s time to come under the leaders’ say. But there isn’t time to join the church before the baby is born.”

  Mary cupped her hand under Hannah’s chin, tilting her face up. “The baby won’t know it was born before instruction classes began or that it was several months old before you finished and then joined the church. The people won’t tell, not once you’re baptized. They will forget those things that are behind.” Mary gave a sad but sweet smile. “And they won’t speak of them again.”

  An undeniable need to settle the issue as soon as possible grew within Hannah. “I’ve dreamed for too long of a life that became impossible the moment I was attacked.” Hannah took the Kapp. “Maybe before.”

  Mary wrapped Hannah in her arms. “Then we’ll do this together.”

  Hannah hugged her, thankful for Mary and determined to be the kind of mother this child would be grateful for. “Make arrangements for the bishop, preachers, deacon, and Daed to all come here this afternoon,
but I need to see Matthew first.”

  Paul pulled into the tire store, not quite sure how he’d gotten there. Although he’d shown up in class that morning, he didn’t remember anything that was said and couldn’t recall leaving campus. It was scary to be at work with no memory of having driven there.

  Hannah wasn’t going to win at this twisted game of hers. That’s all there was to it. He’d keep to his routine and put every memory of her to rest. He sighed. It was going to be a long journey to healing. He hurt as if Hannah had gazed lovingly into his eyes while jamming his heart into a meat grinder. He was still so angry he couldn’t quit shaking. Difficult as it was to understand, Hannah was just like Melanie. And he, just like Jack. He’d been a fool not to see it sooner. Finally he comprehended the unnamable thing that had stood between him and Hannah all these months. It was her unfaithfulness.

  He clocked in and moved to his messy desk in a tiny, poorly lit back room. Sorting through papers that had been piled there while he was at school, he tried to think through the cloud of betrayal covering his mind. He pulled a new order from the stack and began jotting down information for a paper receipt.

  “Hi.” Carol’s voice pulled him from the dozen different worlds colliding inside him.

  He didn’t look up. Undoubtedly, Dorcas had told her what was going on. Now she was here to check on him; he was sure of that. “I’m fine, Carol. Go home.”

  “I’m really sorry, Paul.”

  Paul crumpled the receipt he’d just messed up and grabbed another blank one from his desk drawer. “Yeah, I bet you are.”

  “Paul.” She sounded wounded. “I never wanted you to get hurt.”

  He tossed his pen on the desk and looked at her, hoping she had some sort of answer for him. “How could I be so wrong?” His voice cracked, and he wished he hadn’t started this conversation. Tears had choked him some during the night as he wrestled with memories and the realization of who Hannah really was, or rather who she’d become. But he wouldn’t shed another tear over this. Not one.

  Carol closed the door behind her and took a seat. “So I take it you confirmed the rumors about her … seeing other guys while you weren’t around.”

  “Yeah.” That was an understatement. But Paul wasn’t going to tell anyone that Hannah was pregnant. If he’d only opened his eyes, it would have been obvious long before she conceived. When did she get pregnant anyway? Was it before or after she’d agreed to marry him? He huffed at himself. It didn’t matter.

  “Paul, I think it would help if you talked about things.”

  He picked up the pen, holding it in the middle and tapping each end back and forth on the desk. Talk? His sister probably couldn’t handle hearing what he had to say right now. After studying the effects of drugs, alcohol, and unfaithfulness on families while dealing with Jack and Melanie, he’d grown quite cynical of people. He’d seen pessimism grow in him for a while, but he never thought he’d have cause to disrespect Hannah of all people.

  Still, in the depth of his soul, he couldn’t believe what was happening. He simply couldn’t fathom Hannah giving herself like that to another man. He picked up a stack of folders and set them in front of him. There had always been things about Hannah that stunned him. Her ability to sneak off from home time after time without getting caught, the way she could hold secrets from everyone, her ability to attend church while planning to leave her faith, her warm openness with Matthew. Her friendliness must have included that doctor who gave her the really nice book with all his phone numbers in it. Hannah had become uncomfortable when Paul had mentioned the phone numbers.

  If he’d been following the clues, this wouldn’t have been such a shock. Flirting with Matthew at the hospital. Throwing herself into Paul’s arms that night at the Yoder place. Kissing him like … like a woman who’d been kissed many, many times before.

  He rose. “I’ve got work to do.”

  Carol gave him a hug that he didn’t return. “At least no one knows about this but Dorcas and me. We won’t tell anyone.”

  Paul eased out of her embrace and shuffled papers on his desk. “The silver lining: saving face.” He opened his desk drawer, in search of what he didn’t know. When Hannah’s community learned of her pregnancy, there would be no saving of face for her, no place of refuge. What a mess she’d made, and what an awful price she would pay. In that moment he realized the heavy, unbearable grief that covered him was also for the suffering Hannah would go through. She’d been foolish, even deceitful, but the price she’d pay would cost her dearly for life.

  A sharp pain shot across Hannah’s back, stealing her breath as she trod across the pasture toward Matthew’s house. “I have much to do today, God. Grant me the strength and wisdom.” She whispered the words, knowing there was no perfect answer for her situation. Nothing she could do would set everything right. She would take her time of instruction this summer and join the faith in the fall. That way her father would be calmed and allow her to live in his home and keep her baby.

  As she drew closer to the Esh yard, she heard a rhythmic tapping coming from the repair shop. She knocked on the door and opened it.

  Matthew sat at his workbench, hammering a tiny nail into a frame holding a piece of glass. He glanced up, then returned his focus to his bench. Dread shuddered through her as she remembered Paul’s reaction. She rubbed her thumb against the palm of her hand. “Matthew, I’m going to talk to the bishop today.” She drew a breath. “But I need to see Elle first.”

  Matthew tossed his hammer onto the bench. “You slept in this shop all night, causing rumors about me as well as Jacob. Haven’t you caused enough trouble between me and Elle?”

  Hannah walked closer to him. “I’m sorry, truly I am.”

  Lifting a broken wheel to a different section of his workbench, Matthew nodded. “She’s still wavering a bit about believing that I never saw you that night. She’s been pressing the brakes on our relationship. It’d be best if you stayed away from me … and her.”

  Her throat stinging from tears she wouldn’t let flow, she leaned against an exposed beam. “Matthew, I don’t know how to say this, but surely you of all people know I’m not guilty of all that’s being said of me.”

  Matthew captured her gaze and held it. “Yeah, I know that. But I can’t let nothing about you destroy me and Elle. She needs me right now. That’s possibly the reason she’s hanging on to the hope that I’m telling her the truth about us. Her real father has written her a letter. He’s meetin’ her tonight at Kiah’s place for the first time since he ran off. I can’t tell ya how much it means to her that I be by her side for this. She says she’ll see him, but she won’t let him change her mind about joinin’ the Amish faith.”

  Hannah prayed for strength. “I never intended to join our faith, not since I fell for someone who wasn’t Amish. For years, Mrs. Waddell’s grandson and I have been seeing each other every summer, sometimes during the school year.” Hannah cleared her throat. “Last summer, the day he was leaving for his last year of college, he asked me to marry him. Even on that day I never shared a kiss with him, Matthew I promise.”

  Matthew waved his hand toward the couch. “Ya look awful, like you need to sit.”

  Glad to get off her feet and hopeful it would ease her back and leg pain, Hannah moved to the sofa. Matthew sat on the far end of it.

  She stared at the scars on the palms of her hands. “You heard that I had an incident with a vehicle. Well, that’s not the whole truth. Matthew, I … I was forced to … to be with a man.”

  “What?” He jumped up. “No.” He shook his head and walked away from her.

  Hannah closed her eyes, hoping Matthew believed her. When she opened her eyes, he was facing her with hurt and anger mingled on his face.

  “I’m so sorry.” He eased onto the couch and took her hand.

  Another pain shot down her sides. She squeezed his hand. “Thank you. At first, Mamm and Daed wanted to keep it a secret so that maybe I could still get a husband. I wanted to
keep it a secret so Paul wouldn’t find out, so he would still marry me.”

  “The beginning of September is when you started hiding out at home more than normal.”

  She nodded. “Yes. The buggy ride we took was the first ray of hope that had entered my world since I was … since that night.”

  “Our ride began a hard time of rumors for you. It’s time we tell everyone the truth. It’ll make things go easier for you.”

  “No,” she snapped. Closing her eyes, Hannah blurted out, “Matthew, I’m pregnant.”

  Matthew looked as if he might keel over from the shock of her words. Finally he drew a deep breath. “What can I do to help?”

  His kindness made it impossible for her to speak.

  Matthew leaned forward, propping his forearms on his knees. “You said you wanted to see Elle. Do you think telling her about your”—he pointed to her belly—“is going to help?”

  “When she hears I’m pregnant, you know what she’ll think—that either you or Jacob is the father.” A sob jolted from her throat, but she forced herself to regain control. “I know you’re sorry you ever spent a moment with me, and if I could change things to protect you, I would. But I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Matthew’s hand covered hers. “No.” He squeezed. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have come to see you, to make sure you were okay, to learn why you’d slept in the shop that night.” He patted her hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll try to set this right. If things go awry, it’s not your fault.”

  Her mouth hung open. This wasn’t what she’d expected. He had no repulsion that she was pregnant by some maniac Englischer? He had no accusations that somehow all this was her fault?