Dinner was fun and noisy, as it had become since the children had grown more relaxed and comfortable around her. Every night had become special but tonight . . . Jenny knew she would remember this night forever.
"Jenny and I have an announcement to make," Matthew said after supper and dessert were eaten.
Immediately Jenny noticed that Phoebe and Hannah exchanged a look. Jenny glanced at Matthew and saw that he'd noticed, too. Then she jerked her head in the direction of Joshua and Mary for him to see that the two of them were grinning at each other.
Only Annie was looking expectantly at her father, her big blue eyes wide. "What's your 'nouncement,
Daedi?"
"I've asked Jenny to marry me and she said yes."
Hannah closed her eyes. When she opened them, Jenny was touched to see that they were wet with tears. She jumped to her feet, rushed to Matthew, and threw her arms around him.
"I'm so happy!" Then she turned to Jenny and embraced her, too, more carefully but with just as much heartfelt emotion.
Joshua got up to give Jenny a hug, and when he returned to his seat, Jenny saw that Mary was standing there, looking uncertainly at her. "You will really be our mamm?"
Jenny took her hand. "You'll always have your true mother looking down from heaven on you. I don't ever want you to forget her. But I would love to call you Daughter and be your mother here, if you'll let me."
Mary nodded, and they hugged. And then Jenny felt a tug on her arm. Annie stood beside her.
"Me too," she said, raising her arms. "I want hug, too."
Jenny lifted the child onto her lap and squeezed her. It was so moving that the older children loved and accepted her, and yet it was almost unbearably poignant that the youngest she held now would always know her as her mother since she had no memories of her mother.
Looking up, Jenny found Matthew watching her and saw tears in his eyes. She nodded and something passed between them that didn't need words.
Phoebe dabbed at her eyes with one of her ever-present handkerchiefs.
"Come, let's clear the table," Matthew said when he saw Jenny looking at her grandmother.
Jenny got up and walked over to sit next to her. "I hope that you're not hurt that I didn't come to you first. But I didn't know until today how Matthew felt about me."
Phoebe shook her head and smiled wryly. "I don't know how you could have missed it. Hannah and I knew. Even Joshua and Mary noticed." She took Jenny's hands in hers. "I am happy for you, so very happy, child. You will be good for each other."
Glancing over at the man she loved, Jenny nodded. "I think so, too." She held out her hand to him and he came to take it.
"So you approve, Phoebe?"
"You don't need to ask for my approval or my permission," she told him. "You're old enough to make your decisions. But if you ask if I think it is a good thing, I think it is a very good thing. From the time Jenny came back, I wondered if God was giving you both a second chance."
Hannah glanced over from helping the children with the dishes and Jenny was warmed by the smile she sent.
The Plain People were seldom seen in New York City so Jenny supposed that the stares she and her grandmother received were only natural.
"The buildings look like huge mountains," Phoebe marveled as they rode in the cab. "But there's no grass anywhere."
"I'll take you to Central Park one day," Jenny promised.
"So where'll it be, ladies?" asked the cab driver. "You going to Broadway?"
Jenny shook her head and gave him the address of her apartment.
"Huh. I thought maybe there was a revival of The
Crucible,
you know?" he said, pulling out into traffic.
Phoebe grabbed the handle of the door as the vehicle took off and looked at Jenny with raised eyebrows.
"So what's the getup for?" the cabbie asked.
Jenny met the cabbie's eyes in his rearview mirror. "Getup? Oh, you mean her dress?"
"Yeah, getup, costume, whatever it's called."
"I'm from Lancaster County, young man," Phoebe told him politely, showing no sign of displeasure at being spoken about as if she weren't there.
"Ah, I see. Amish. So, you planning to move here?"
Jenny and Phoebe exchanged looks. "No," said Phoebe, her eyes twinkling. She gazed out the window. "I've never seen so many people. And they're rushing everywhere."
So many people,
thought Jenny.
And yet sometimes it's an easy city to feel lonely in.
The doorman welcomed them with a touch to his hat and held open the door. If José was curious, he was too polite to say anything.
"Good to see you back, Ms. Miller, ma'am," he added for Phoebe. "Leave that luggage there by the door, and I'll see that it's taken up to your place."
"Thanks, José, that would be great." Jenny turned to her grandmother as they approached the elevator. She eyed the closed doors. . How to explain? "It's like a box that we get inside—"
"I thought the box cooked food."
"This is different than the microwave," Jenny told her. "It takes us up to my apartment."
The doors slid open, and they walked inside. Then Jenny noticed that her grandmother was trying to hide her smile.
"You've been in one!"
Nodding, Phoebe chuckled. "They have them in the hospital in Lancaster."
"I feel so foolish." She punched the button for her floor.
Phoebe hugged her. "I couldn't resist teasing you. It's allrecht. You don't know what I know about your world."
"Hold the elevator, please!" someone called.
The Donaldsons and their little boy stepped in after them. All three stared, but Billy was the most obvious. He tugged at his mother's dress. "Is it Thanks-giving?"
Jenny bit back a smile.
"It's good to see you doing well," Mrs. Donaldson rushed to say. "Are you back for good?"
Jenny shook her head. "Just for a little while."
"You're always rushing off to some exotic place," said Mrs. Donaldson, trying not to look at Phoebe. If the woman had known she was going to Lancaster, she'd probably still think so. After all, so many people were intrigued by where her grandmother lived, thought it was an anomaly, a place out of time and culture in the United States. She introduced her grandmother to them and saw the couple exchange a look of surprise.
She settled her grandmother in the guest bedroom and went into her own room to rest from the trip. When she got up an hour later, she found her grandmother sitting in her room reading her Bible.
"Are you feeling better?" Phoebe asked her. "You looked tired."
"I was tired," she admitted. "I feel better now. I thought I'd see what we have to eat. Joy stocked up some things last time I was here."
"Show me how to use the microwave and I'll prepare supper."
Jenny put her arm around her grandmother's shoulders. "I hope we can do better than that tonight. Matter of fact, we could even go out if you want. To a restaurant, I mean."
Phoebe glanced down at her clothes. "If we go out, I wonder how many other people here will think I am a Pilgrim?" she asked, smiling.
A packing company brought boxes to the apartment the next day.
Jenny labeled several of them with her grandmother's address, and the rest of them she marked DONATE. She filled a box with books she couldn't do without, and packed some of her writing supplies. Into another box she put clothes. A small portion of her wardrobe would be enough to get by with until she was told she could join the church. She didn't want to offend anyone by automatically adopting Plain clothing until then.
A few things that she'd worn to parties—fancy dresses and pantsuits and shoes to match—went into a box for a consignment shop.
Phoebe held up an emerald silk blouse Jenny had worn to a Christmas party. "Jenny, are you sure that you won't miss clothing such as this?"
"I wore that just once, to a party," she said, taking the blouse and folding it neatly into the box to donate. "I'm not much of a party person. I had more fun sharing a family dinner with Joy and David and Sam than going out."
"They'll miss you."
"I know. But they'll visit. They promised, and they keep their promises."
Jenny looked around the room. What did she need to take that she felt she just couldn't live without?
She found another box and placed in it her treasures: the album her mother had made for her of childhood photos, several framed photos of her parents and one of her with Joy and David at their wedding and another with them holding Sam.
Journals took up another box. She'd been writing in them since she turned twelve and the pile had grown. But sometimes she found solace rereading them, seeing how she'd worked through problems she had with her faith. The children affected by war weren't the only things she wrote about. There were notes about what she saw in her travels, funny stories of learning about the customs of other countries, all kinds of things. She smiled at the bright-pink journal that held the entries she'd made about Matthew when they were teenagers. She
had
to keep that one, she decided. Maybe she'd read it one night as she recovered from the surgery, just for the memories.
Her grandmother came in as she placed it on top of the others.
"My, you have a lot of journals."
"Been keeping them for a long time."
"I see."
Jenny saw that Phoebe had a faraway expression in her eyes. But when her grandmother realized she was looking at her, she smiled. "
Anything I can help with?"
Opening the last drawer of her dresser, Jenny found a ribbon-tied packet of letters and cards from her grandmothers. Her maternal grandmother had died when Jenny was twelve, so she cherished the ones her mother had saved for her. The letters from Phoebe were equally cherished for her support of Jenny through the sometimes lonely college years.
"You saved our letters, too?"
"Of course."
"You're a sweet, sentimental child," Phoebe said, hugging her.
"Letters mean a lot when you're away from home."
Phoebe looked at the boxes. "Those are all you are sending to my house?"
When Jenny nodded, she held out her hand and led her to sit on the bed. "Are you sure that you can give up so much?"
"They're just things."
"Things that are important to you."
Jenny looked around her and then shook her head. "I was never interested in accumulating much. I went from a small dorm room at college to an apartment that wasn't much bigger. Even if I liked having a lot of things I wouldn't have had room."
She fell silent. "If you're worried that I'm giving up something, all I can tell you is I found something so much more important at your home. I was wavering in my faith and I found it again. I found a joy in simple things. And best of all, I got to renew my relationships with you and Matthew, and make new ones with the children and Hannah."
She held out her hands. "What would I have here that could match that?"
"How you doing, Jenny?" asked the anesthesiologist.
"Nice and floaty," she said, feeling the effects of the pre-op shot.