A Hand to Hold (6 page)

Then the bad memories came. The distance that had grown between them when Deborah turned sixteen and started to rebel. She’d longed for the attention she’d gotten when she was younger, but her behavior had the opposite effect of pushing her parents away. She relived the disappointment in her mother’s eyes when she told her she was pregnant with a Yankee’s baby. The pain of telling her good-bye when she left to have her baby in Paradise, too ashamed to face the community.

She reached the top step, sobbing as the last memory came into view. Her mother’s joy at seeing Will after he was born. The total acceptance of her grandson.
Mami’s
last words before getting on the bus to go back to Middlefield.

When you’re ready to come home, we’ll be waiting.

Deborah wiped her eyes with the soaked tissue and took a deep breath before she went into the bedroom she shared with Will. The last thing she wanted him to see when he woke from his nap were her tears. Once she composed herself, she walked into the room.

His crib was in the far corner of the room, away from the window. She had pulled down the shade earlier when she’d set him down for his nap, but the bright summer sunlight peeked through the sides and bottom of the shade, casting thin beams of light throughout the room. Tiptoeing to his crib, she looked at her son. Dark brown hair, the same color as her own, covered his head. His black eyelashes rested against his rosy cheeks. The room was warm, and he wore a small, white, short-sleeved one-piece, his chubby legs spread apart as he slept.

She closed her eyes against a new onslaught of sadness at all the milestones her mother would miss. Regrets kept slamming into her, reminding her that she should have done things differently. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts had assaulted her. She looked at Will and knew there was one thing she didn’t have a single doubt about. Having her son. He was her life, her hope, her dreams, all rolled into one. No matter the circumstances of his birth, he was meant to be here. And she would never, ever regret that.

True to her word, Sadie had them on the road less than two hours later. As they passed through Lancaster County, Deborah remembered Thomas’s proposal. In the wake of the news and rushing around to pack, she’d forgotten all about it.

Sadie glanced at her, wearing a huge pair of tortoise shell rimmed sunglasses that covered nearly half her face. “Did you forget something?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Will, who was playing with a rubber duck in his car seat. Love swelled inside her as she watched her contented son. “It’s nothing that can’t wait.”

“Yoo hoo! Moses, we’re home!” Sadie yodeled as she entered the house.

Deborah followed closely behind, clinging to Will, who wanted to get down. She put her mouth close to his little ear. “Not yet.” She didn’t want Will running wild all over the house or making a bad impression on her father. Especially now. It was late, after ten, and her father and sister were probably asleep.

“Moses!” Sadie yelled one more time. “Where is that man? I honked the horn twice; surely he heard it. At least he could come down here and help us with the bags.” She turned to Deborah and removed the diaper bag from her shoulder. “Here sweetie, let me take yours. I thought Naomi would be here too. Not that she would welcome me with anything but the cold shoulder, but still. Manners are manners.”

Will kept clawing at Deborah. She couldn’t blame her son for wanting to be free. He’d been stuck in a car seat for hours, something he wasn’t used to. “Will, settle down!”

He stopped squirming, but only for the moment. Deborah carried him further into the living room before setting him down on the couch in front of the picture window. She tucked the tail of his light blue shirt into his small, gray, broadfall pants. Someone had turned the light on in the living room, so she knew her father and sister had gotten the message from their Yankee neighbor about their arrival. Otherwise the house would be completely dark.

She took her bag from Aunt Sadie and pulled out a little rubber and plastic car for Will to play with. As soon as she handed him the toy, he grinned, displaying his tiny, two top teeth, the only ones he had so far. He took the car and started rolling it across the couch cushions, happy for the moment.

Deborah plopped on the couch and leaned her head back. She didn’t know how her aunt could be so perky after the long car ride. Deborah was exhausted. She hadn’t realized traveling could be so tiring, especially with a toddler who had a voracious appetite and off-schedule sleeping patterns.

Sadie planted her hands on her ample hips. “Wait until your grandfather sees you, Mr. Adorable! He’ll eat you right up!” Sadie bent over and tweaked the child’s nose. Will giggled, as he always did when she fussed over him.

Deborah smiled. A few minutes passed, but her father and Naomi still didn’t appear. Where were they? Her aunt was right; one of them should have at least greeted them by now.

Her gaze landed on an old hickory chair her great-grandfather had built eighty years ago. A colorful, worn quilt was folded over the back. Her mother always laid that quilt on her lap in the wintertime when she was sitting in the living room, often reading a book or working on a cross-stitch project. A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed it down, still not completely accepting that she was back home to say good-bye, instead of hello, to her mother.

Aunt Sadie sat down next to Deborah, putting an arm around her shoulders. Her black-and-purple-striped tank top and lemon yellow shorts stood out in the austere room like a zebra at a horse auction. “It’ll be all right, sweetie. It hurts more than anything right now, but your
mami
is at peace.”

“I know.” Deborah wiped her nose with the top of her index finger. “I keep reminding myself of that. But sometimes it’s cold comfort.”

Sadie nodded. “When my Rodney died, I thought I wouldn’t make it. It’s hard on the ones left behind. So very, very hard.” Sadie kissed her on the cheek and stood up. “You keep an eye on that pipsqueak while I go look for my brother.” She walked out of the room, calling out, “Moses! Show yourself! Your buggy’s in the driveway, so I know you’re here. Now give us a proper greeting!”

Deborah looked around the small living room. Two years wasn’t that long of a time, but it seemed like forever since she had last sat in this room, telling her parents that she was pregnant. She had expected them not to care, to ignore her as they had when she turned sixteen. But her mother had burst into tears and her father had stared at the floor for a long, long time, not saying a word. She had hurt them; she knew that now. Her sister wouldn’t even speak to her, other than to say she was embarrassed that they were related. In her quest for the attention she craved, she had made a mistake that had affected not only her, but her entire family.

It had been hard to leave Middlefield, and especially difficult to leave Elisabeth Byler, her best friend who had stood by her during that terrifying time when she had no idea what to do. Elisabeth had visited her only once before Will was born, but she had written several letters. They had been her only tangible connection to Middlefield.

Will started to climb down off the couch. He steadied himself on anything he could grab hold of, no matter how off balance it was. Deborah snatched him up and pulled him toward her, then lifted up his blue short-sleeved shirt and tickled his belly. He giggled, his gunmetal gray eyes growing wide. She could see more and more of his father in him with each passing day, especially in his smile. But since Chase rejected his son before he was even born, Deborah had considered Will 100 percent hers.

He struggled once again to get down, using his chubby arms as leverage. Instead of letting him go, she gathered him up in her arms and stood, resting him on her left hip as she left the room in search of her father and Sadie. Her aunt should have found him by now. The house wasn’t that big, only three bedrooms upstairs, a dining room that her family had only used for company downstairs, along with a serviceable kitchen and the tiny parlor, and of course, the unfinished basement where they had held church over the years.

As she and Will neared the kitchen at the back of the house, she could hear a faint rattling sound, as if someone was clanging two dishes together. Low light came from the room. Naomi had to be in there. Her stomach twisted into a pretzel. Would her sister say anything to her? Or would she just ignore her, like she had most of their lives? Her elder by ten years, Naomi had never had anything but a volatile relationship with Deborah. And what would she say about Will? Would she continue to pretend that he didn’t exist? The thought pained her more than the memories of her sister’s constant dismissal.

Deborah willed her nerves to steady as she entered the kitchen. “Naomi?”

Naomi didn’t turn around right away. She finished drying a plain white dish, then put it in the cabinet to the right of the sink.

Some things never change
.

Finally Naomi turned toward them. Her sister looked a little older than the last time she had seen her. Deborah noticed a couple of silver strands threading through her dark brown hair, which was parted neatly in the middle and covered with a white handkerchief instead of a
kapp
. Naomi had always been thin and willowy with sharp features. Deborah had never been as slender as Naomi, but she’d packed on the pounds since Will’s birth and still had several stubborn ones to lose.

Naomi folded the damp dishrag into a small square and laid it on the edge of the sink. Her steely eyes narrowed a bit, but her gaze never went to Will, even when he started protesting about being held again.

Deborah shifted him in her arms, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get out of her embrace. “Enough!” Deborah’s command settled Will, and he leaned his head against her shoulder. He probably sensed the tension in the room. It was thick enough to slice with a hacksaw.

Naomi still didn’t react. “It’s late.”

“I know. We didn’t have much of a choice. I wanted to be here for the funeral.” Her chest constricted. “Why didn’t anyone call me when she died? I would have been here sooner.”

Will whimpered. Deborah hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding on to him. She released her grip and set him down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Stay there,
lieb
.” She held up her hand, palm facing out, the signal for him to stay put. She smiled when he complied. “Why didn’t you let me know about
Mami
?”

“I wrote you right after she died. It’s not my fault the mail is slow.”

“You should have called.”

Naomi crossed her arms, her foot tapping against the floor. “You shouldn’t have left. If you wanted to be a part of this
familye
, you would have stayed.”

“You know why I left.”

“Then you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Aunt Sadie suddenly burst into the room. “I can’t imagine where your father is, Deborah. I’ve looked everywhere—” Her gaze landed on Naomi. In an instant an uncharacteristic frown tugged on her mouth. “Naomi.”

Naomi didn’t say anything. She adjusted her kerchief and walked out of the room, her chin lifted. Her gaze remained straight ahead.

Sadie pressed her red lips together. “That woman is enough to try the patience of St. Peter himself. Can you believe she is the only member of this family who shuns me? Even your father didn’t do that when I decided not to join the church, before that self-righteous whippet was even born!”

“
Aenti
, please.” Deborah went to her and put her arm on Sadie’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t let her upset you.”

Sadie’s expression relaxed. She cupped Deborah’s chin. “And you should take your own advice. I can see she’s lit a fire under you already.”

Deborah grimaced. “She’s always known how to rile me up.”

Letting go of Deborah’s chin, Sadie clucked her tongue. “You two are like sugar and vinegar, you know that? I used to think it was because there’s such an age gap between you, but now I see it has more to do with personality than anything else. She needs to loosen up.”

Will climbed down from his chair and held up his arms to Deborah. She started to pick him up, but Sadie slid over and grabbed him around the middle. “Let me get this doodlebug something to eat. Deborah, go see if you can find your father. I checked the upstairs and the basement.”

“He might be out in the barn.”

“Why would he be out there this late at night?”

“Sometimes he’d
geh
out there just to think.”

“I can name a dozen less smelly places to think, but to each his own.” Sadie carried Will to the pantry. She brought her red mouth close to his ear. “I doubt we’ll find any Twinkies here, but I’m sure we can conjure up something decent.”

Deborah walked out of the kitchen and into the small mudroom by the back door. A lantern hung on a long peg attached to the wall. She took it and lit it with a match from the cast-iron match holder affixed next to the peg. A glow filled the darkened room and she walked outside.

The scent of cow dung instantly hit her. Her father raised Angus cows, selling off part of the herd each year. She held up the lantern. To the right of the backyard was a split-rail fence, boxing in the several-acre pasture where they grazed. As she moved forward, the light illuminated the pasture, and she was surprised to see the grass had grown several inches high. Usually the cows kept it shorn close to the ground.