Abby Finds Her Calling (11 page)

“Sam’s a pillar. He wants to keep his family in gut standing with God and the rest of the community.” The bishop looked beyond James toward Abby’s house, and then at the larger white home where lamps lit most of the windows. “Abby’s at her place, then? With her sister?”

“Jah. I just came from talking with them, after Barbara gave Zanna a… female examination.” James sighed, knowing what would come next. It didn’t help that the right men were here to steer this matter in the direction it should go; he still felt as if he’d been trampled by a stampede of wild horses.

Vernon nodded. “I’ll ask both of them to be at Sam’s in a few minutes, and we’ll get this settled.”

A
few moments after the bishop left, Abby opened the door and gestured for Zanna to step out ahead of her. “Let’s go. We’ve got a long night ahead of us yet.”

Matt’s sheep, crowded together along the shadowy pasture fence, murmured at them as Abby and her sister walked past. On the other side of the lane, Mamm’s hills of pumpkins and fat jack-o’-lanterns glistened in the moonlight… So peaceful, this pastoral setting, yet Abby knew nothing could soothe her right now. Panda and Pearl loped out to greet them, but returned to the barn when neither she nor Zanna patted them.

“Why did James have to go telling tales to the bishop?” Zanna murmured as their footsteps crunched in the gravel. “Bringing all this on before I had a chance to deal with it and—”

“Stop right there!” Much as she hated to harden her heart, Abby recalled the Bible relating how God had done that, too, when He’d been displeased with His people. She turned to face her sister in the driveway. “If there was any
bringing on
, it was you getting on the phone that started this snowball rolling down the hill, Zanna. Had you minded your own business—talked to Mamm and your family
instead of the twins—the bishop would still be involved, but we might be working things out differently. Ain’t so?”

Zanna pivoted, crossing her arms. Despite her defensive stance, tears were streaming down her moonlit face alongside the strings of her kapp. “Why do you hate me so, Abby?” she rasped. “I thought you of all people would understand why I couldn’t marry James Graber!”

And what was that supposed to mean? Best not to go down such a trail right now while their family had so many other matters to settle. “If I hated you, would I have offered you my home as a hideaway today? Would I be so upset about the choices you’ve made?” Abby asked softly. “Problem is, you have
no idea
what you’ve gotten yourself—or the rest of us—into.”

At the main house, Abby held the screen door to let Zanna enter the kitchen first… Was her sister upset enough that she might run off again? Now or after they met with Vernon Gingerich? It wasn’t a happy thought, but it made Abby aware that she was indeed her sister’s keeper.

Zanna paused to smooth her apron, listening to the quiet voices that drifted in from Sam and Barbara’s front room. She entered ahead of Abby then, walking between the preachers, the family, and James with her head lowered and her hands clasped. She took the place beside Barbara on the sofa.

“Evening, everybody,” Abby murmured. The only seat left was the ottoman between Sam’s recliner and the platform rocker James sat in, so she took it. She placed her hands on her knees and waited for Vernon Gingerich to begin.

“Let us start by asking for the Lord’s assistance and wisdom,” the bishop said as he rose from his wooden rocking chair. Everyone got quiet and bowed their heads.

You know how we need Your help, Jesus
, Abby prayed.
Help us to listen to Your still, small voice instead of to the confusion and chaos in our hearts.

After a moment Vernon cleared his throat. “‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,’” he began in a low, clear voice. “‘He maketh me to lie down in green pastures…’”

With her head still bowed, Abby followed the ancient psalm in her mind, anticipating the familiar words and feeling the deep comfort they always brought her. In her mind, she saw the Lambright land and imagined Matt’s sheep whenever she heard these verses.

“‘He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.’”

The front room took on a whole new atmosphere as everyone around her breathed deeply, silently following along as Vernon rendered the passage in his unhurried, steady cadence. Abby felt better. The bishop had set the tone for the way they would handle Zanna’s predicament.

“‘… and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’” Bishop Gingerich sat down, leaning forward in his rocking chair, and looked at each of them in turn. Bathed in the soft glow of the oil lamps, he appeared as serene as always, yet his expression reflected the magnitude of this situation. “It’s good you’ve came back, Suzanna. This tells us you haven’t forgotten the promises you made when you took your vows earlier this year, about following our beliefs… about confession and repentance. About right living. About putting faith in God before family and all other worldly concerns.”

Zanna kept her head bowed. She knew better than to answer until she was asked a question.

Paul Bontrager spoke then, his eyes alight in a face weathered by a lifetime of farming. “We heard the story being spread by some of our girls—your friends, Suzanna—and we came here for the truth of it, as you’ve joined the church and they haven’t.” With a sigh, he added, “This seems another example of how telephones become the Devil’s own mouthpiece when they’re used for spreading gossip.”

From across the room, Abby glanced at Zanna’s face. Her sister’s cheeks were flushed, and she’d pressed her lips into a tight line. She
looked ready to cry again. And she clearly intended to let everyone else do the talking.

“From what we’ve heard today, this is what we believe has happened,” their mother stated, eyeing Sam when he seemed ready to jump in. “Suzanna’s carrying a baby. And James Graber had nothing to do with that. Ain’t so, Suzanna?”

Zanna closed her eyes. She nodded.

“We want to hear you say it.” Mamm sounded resolute now. “There’s no hiding from a truth that affects every one of us in this room, daughter.”

A forlorn sigh filled the rough circle they formed. “Jah,” Zanna murmured. “There’s a baby. I was wrong to blame it on James.”

“And we fully intend to uphold whatever discipline you call for, Vernon,” Sam chimed in. “If it’s a kneeling confession tomorrow, a shunning to follow that, we believe it’s for the best.”

Zanna’s face fell as she glared at her brother. “I’m trying to say I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “Sorry for the way I made you all worry when I ran off—”

“And will you confess this at a Members’ Meeting after the service tomorrow morning?” The bishop leaned his elbows on his knees, trying to get Zanna to look at him. “It’s all well and good to apologize here amongst family, but true repentance is to be shared with every member. It’s a reminder of how we every one fall short, and need to be guided back to God’s path.”

“She’ll do whatever is required, Bishop,” Mamm reconfirmed. “If it means she’ll be living with my aunts in Indiana until the baby’s born, so be it. Sam and I will see that she carries out whatever you and the others decide.”

Zanna’s eyes widened like a spooked mare’s, but she held her tongue. With the bishop and Preacher Paul present, she knew better than to protest Mamm’s declaration. She swiped at a tear, then looked away as though to keep from crying more in front of them all.

“I prefer to hear
your
reply, Suzanna,” Vernon insisted. “When it
comes to confession and repenting our sins, no one else can speak for us.”

A little sob escaped her. “Jah. I’ll be there tomorrow. Ready for confession.”

The others in the room shifted in their seats, as though relieved that Zanna was contrite. Abby felt grateful that such difficult issues arose so seldom, because gatherings like these took their toll on everyone’s emotions.

“Do you have anything more to say, Suzanna?” the bishop asked. “We should discuss the fellow who fathered this baby.”

“James.” Zanna inhaled deeply as she fixed her gaze on him. “Did you mean it when you said you’d still marry me?” she asked in a faltering voice. “When you said you’d clear the slate and raise this baby as your own?”

James stood up suddenly, as if irritated that she’d put him on the spot in front of their church leaders. “And did you mean it when you said you loved me each time I said I loved
you
?” he rasped. “Did you
mean
it, all those times you kissed me and acted so excited to be getting married—even though you gave yourself to somebody else in July?”

Zanna’s head shot up, her resentment matching his.

When Vernon rose, the only sound in the room was the rocking of his empty chair. The old fellow straightened his stooped shoulders, a reminder of the weight he bore as their district’s bishop. “Once again, Suzanna, you were not alone in this sin,” he insisted quietly. “The man in question needs to make it right—to come forward and confess along with you, so—”

“But that will never happen!” Zanna looked at the family members around her, entreating their support. “Even if I thought it could work out, you’d never agree to me marrying him.”

“Is he English, then?” Mamm’s face clouded over, as though this might be the greatest disgrace of all.

“Is he married?” Sam demanded. “If you got yourself involved with—”

“No.”

Abby recognized the set of her sister’s jaw. Zanna had assumed that look, that tone, when she was a child who’d been cornered by the adults. And James? He was a man aghast at Zanna’s unwillingness to reveal the rest of her unpleasant secret.

“He’s not marrying or settling down anytime soon; I can tell you that,” Zanna replied. She crossed her arms protectively over her midsection. “I’ve done a lot of thinking about it, and I—I’m taking full responsibility for the mistakes I made. And for raising this baby, too.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying,” Sam said, exasperated. “No idea about taking on—”

“Hush, Sam! Let her say what she will,” Mamm insisted. “We’re all here listening, as witnesses. You’ve always said Zanna needed to be held accountable, ain’t so?”

Abby shifted in her seat, trapped between two angry men. On her left, James sat down again as though he regretted seeing this side of the girl he’d loved, while on her right, Sam bristled at their mother for overriding his authority. This sort of confrontation was rare, as it went against the principles of their faith.

Abby’s stomach knotted.
Let Zanna speak her mind carefully, Lord, and guide the bishop as he directs her fate
, she prayed quickly.
Help us to wrap our arms around this difficult situation and see Your will at work.

Zanna sighed, lowering her eyes. “You’re my family. I came home because I knew I couldn’t do this alone. God saw fit to make a baby, and I intend to keep it—to raise it rather than give it up for adoption,” she added, with a purposeful look at Barbara and Mamm. “If you can’t help me with that, then I—I guess I’ll have to find somewhere else to go… some other way to support myself and my child.”

Abby closed her eyes, while her brother rose from his chair as if to signal the end of this discussion—and his patience. This sounded like another of Zanna’s uninformed decisions, a fantasy she had no
practical way to carry out. Yet Abby detected the steely determination of a young woman who would make good on her veiled threat to leave. At seventeen, her youngest sister had no idea of what complications she faced.

Then again, what young mother did? Even longtime wives confided that, while raising a family might be their highest purpose in life, there were no easy answers when it came to handling each baby—prioritizing the usual work to be done while dealing with feedings and fatigue and sickness and all the other demands a newborn made on their time and energy. Not to mention what husbands and other family members expected of them.

Bishop Gingerich fixed his gaze on Zanna until she looked at him. “Suzanna, your attitude does not become you. It’s not for you to decide your punishment or the fate of your baby. As a member of the church, you must submit to the decision of the other members tomorrow. Do you understand this?”

Zanna pressed her lips into a tight line. She nodded.

“If you’ll excuse us for a bit, Bishop—” Sam motioned for his wife and Mamm to follow him into the back bedroom. “This whole ordeal sprang up so sudden-like—just this morning—so we’ve not had a chance to discuss alternatives amongst ourselves.”

Bishop Gingerich watched them leave, and then resumed his seat. Abby tried to relax on the backless ottoman. How long might their impromptu conference last? This endless day was wearing on her… There was no appropriate chitchat to fill in this awkward gap as it stretched into five minutes… ten. The mantel clock struck another quarter hour, then marked more silence with its loud, steady ticking. Pale and scared, Zanna looked ready to pass out as she stared, unseeing, at her lap. Beside Abby, James gripped the arms of his rocking chair and let go, gripped and let go.

Finally Mamm and Barbara returned and took their seats, with Sam following behind them. Abby couldn’t read her brother’s expression, but she sensed that some tall talking had been done on
all sides. As head of the Lambright family, Sam made all the big decisions—or had to be convinced that anyone else’s idea was something he could enforce. Something he could live with.