Going Home (21 page)

“I’ll get the milk while you set out the cookies,” Faith said.

Noah grunted as he bit back a chuckle. “You like bossin’ me around?”

She halted her steps and turned to face him. “Is that how I come across—like I’m bossy?”

He shook his head. “Not really, but just now you sounded a lot like my mamm.”

Faith grimaced. “I didn’t mean for it to seem as if I was trying to tell you what to do.”

Noah shrugged. “It’s not a big thing. I’m more than willing to set out the cookies.”

“Okay.” Faith got out a bottle of goat’s milk, and Noah piled a stack of chocolate chip cookies on a plate, then placed it on the table.

“We could take a few of these to your mamm if you think she might change her mind and have some,” he said.

Faith shook her head. “When Mom says no to something, she means it.”

Noah noticed the bitter tone in Faith’s voice. Obviously, Faith and her mother still had problems. Should he say something about it. . .maybe offer a listening ear if Faith wanted to talk? “I. . .uh. . . sense some bitterness in the way you spoke of your mamm,” he
said hesitantly. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“No!” She set the bottle of milk down on the table with such force Noah feared it might break.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he apologized.

Faith’s hands shook as she took two glasses from the cupboard. “The problem between me and my folks goes back to when I was a kinner, and I don’t think talking about it will change a thing.”

Noah was tempted to argue the point but thought better of it. No point in upsetting her further. “If you ever change your mind and need a listening ear,” he said, moving to stand beside her, “I’d be more than willing.”

She gave a brief nod, then hurried across the room with the glasses.

A short time later after Noah had gone home, Faith decided to take a walk out to the barn to see what Melinda was up to, as she still hadn’t come back to the house. She found her daughter hanging over one of the stall doors, staring at a baby goat while talking to Faith’s father, who stood beside her.

“Look at Tiny, Mama,” Melinda said when Faith stepped up to them. “Isn’t he cute?”

Faith nodded. “So you’ve named him already, huh?”

“Sure did. Grandpa said I could pick the name, and I chose Tiny because the goat’s so small.”

Papa chuckled. “He won’t be so tiny once he’s grown.”

“Did you forget about coming to the house for cookies and milk?” Faith asked, tapping Melinda on the shoulder.

The child looked up at her and grinned. “Guess I got so busy watching the baby goat and talking with Grandpa that my stomach forgot it wanted cookies.”

Faith smiled. It was good to see her daughter so happy and satisfied. It made her wish she could have been that content when she was a child. If only she’d been more accepted. If only. . .

“How’s your mamm doing?” Papa asked, breaking into Faith’s thoughts. “Has she been resting that leg like she’s supposed to?”

“As far as I know, she’s still in the living room doing some mending,” Faith replied.

Papa lifted one eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call that resting.”

“She had her foot propped on a footstool and was sitting comfortably in the rocker with the mending in her lap, so I’m sure it didn’t cause any discomfort to her leg.”

“Are you trying to be
gchpassich
?” her father asked in a clipped tone.

Faith gritted her teeth as she struggled with the desire to defend herself.
Here we go again. . .being accused of trying to be funny when I was merely trying to explain something. Why is it that everything I say to him seems to be taken wrong?

“Are you going to answer my question or not?” her father persisted. “Were you trying to be gchpassich?”

“Mama’s good at being funny,” Melinda interjected before Faith could respond. “Telling funny stories used to be her job before we moved here, you know.” When she looked up at Faith, a look of pride shone in her eyes.

Faith figured if her father saw that look, he would accuse Melinda of being filled with
hochmut
, and then she would be in for a lecture the way Faith used to be whenever she’d said or done anything that could have been considered proud.

Much to Faith’s surprise, however, Papa made no comment about what Melinda had said. Instead, he took hold of the child’s hand and steered her toward the barn door. “How’s about you and me going up to the house for some of those cookies you missed out on?”

Melinda nodded eagerly. “Are you coming, Mama?” she called over her shoulder.

“In a minute.”

When the barn door clicked shut, Faith dropped to a bale of straw near the goat’s stall. She sat there a few minutes, staring at the mother goat and her baby. Then she let her head fall forward in her hands, and she wept. She needed to get away from this place as soon as possible.

T
he day finally came when Mama’s cast was removed. Faith wasn’t sure who was more relieved—she or Mama. The cumbersome cast must have been heavy, not to mention hot and sweaty during the warm days in late summer. The only trouble was, Mama’s leg, though healed, was now stiff and shriveled from being stuck inside the cast and not used for six weeks. The doctor had told Mama that she would need physical therapy to regain strength in her leg. That meant more expense for Faith’s folks, and it also doomed Faith to stick around a few more weeks. It wouldn’t be right to leave when Mama wasn’t able to function at 100 percent.

Faith had agreed to go to Springfield with her mother once a week for her therapy treatments, as her father and brothers were busy with the beginning of harvest, and Grace Ann and Esther were working at their jobs all day. Faith hired one of their English neighbors to drive them.

On the day of the first appointment, Faith hurried to make the girls their lunches, sent them off to school with a reminder not to dawdle, and rushed around to clean up the kitchen. She’d begun to wipe off the table when she noticed one of Melinda’s reading books. She hurried outside, calling, “Melinda, come back! You forgot something!”

The children were already halfway down the driveway, but Melinda must have heard, for she spun around and cupped her hands around her mouth. “What’d I forget?”

Faith held up the book. “Come back and get it!”

Seconds later, Melinda had the book and was running down the driveway to catch up to Susie. Faith clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she headed back to the house. At least one good thing had happened over the last few weeks. Noah had been able to teach Melinda enough to make Sarah Wagler happy. The teacher said she was pleased with Melinda’s progress and that the child seemed a bit more sure of herself.

Faith knew her daughter liked Noah a lot. She often talked about him, saying she wished he could be her new daddy. Faith tried to dissuade Melinda, reminding her that Noah had his parents to care for, and she and Melinda had Grandpa and Grandma Stutzman to help out. No point getting her daughter’s hopes up over something that was never going to happen.

When Faith entered the kitchen a few minutes later, she found her mother limping around the room, putting clean dishes in the cupboard.

“Why don’t you take a seat at the table and have a cup of tea?” Faith suggested. “I’ll finish up here, and we’ll be ready and
waiting when Doris Moore comes to pick us up.”

Mama’s eyebrows were pinched as she sat down. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever get the strength back in my leg.”

“I’m sure with some therapy you’ll be good as new.”

“I hope so, because I’m getting awful tired of sitting around trying to do things with one leg propped up.” Mama heaved a sigh and took a sip of tea. “Will Noah be coming over this afternoon when he gets off work?” she asked with a hopeful expression.

Faith shook her head as she slipped a stack of clean plates into one of the cupboards. “When I saw Noah at church yesterday, I told him we were going to Springfield this morning for your therapy. Since I didn’t know what time we might get home, I suggested he wait until Tuesday to work with Melinda.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Mama smiled. “That man sure does have the patience of Job, don’t you think? I can’t get over what a good cook he is, either.”

“You’re right—Noah is a good cook, and he does seem to have more patience than most men.” Faith’s thoughts went immediately to Greg. He’d been so short-tempered. Especially when it came to Faith. He’d expected more than she could possibly give. He’d always pushed her to do multiple shows and reprimanded her whenever she wanted to take time off. And he’d let his temper loose on Faith more times than she cared to think about.

She rubbed her hand along the side of her face, thinking about how hard he had hit her one night shortly before his death. It had left a black-and-blue mark, but she’d hid it under a layer of heavy makeup.

“Susie thinks Noah might be sweet on you,” Mama said,
pulling Faith out of her disconcerting thoughts. “I’m wondering if the feelings might be mutual.”

Faith clenched her teeth.
Not this again
. “Susie should mind her own business.” She slammed the cupboard door with more force than she meant to, and it rattled the dishes. She jerked it open again and checked to be sure nothing had broken. To her relief, all the dishes were intact.

“Faith, did you hear what I asked?”

Faith whirled around. “I heard you, Mama. I just don’t have anything to say.”

“Oh, I see.”

Maybe now was the time to tell Mama her plans. Faith opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat like a glob of gooey peanut butter. Maybe this wasn’t the right time. Not with Mama’s leg still trying to heal.

She popped two knuckles and frowned.
Shouldn’t be doing that either, I guess
.

“Faith, what’s wrong? You seem kind of agitated,” Mama said softly. “Why don’t you come over here and have a cup of tea with me while we wait for Doris?”

Faith moved back to the counter, where a stack of clean plates waited on the sideboard to be put away. “I–I’m fine, Mama, and I really do need to get the rest of these dishes put away.”
Chicken. You’re afraid to tell her what’s troubling you
.

“All right, then. Guess we can visit while you work and I sip my tea.”

For the next several minutes, they talked about the weather, who in their community was expecting a baby, how the girls were
doing in school—anything but the one thing that weighed heavily on Faith’s mind. If only she felt free to tell Mama the truth: that she’d come home only so Melinda would have a place to stay while Faith was on the road entertaining, and that she felt ready to leave now, knowing Melinda had adjusted to being Amish, but she didn’t want to leave Mama in the lurch.

“Your teacup is empty,” Faith said after turning from the sink and glancing at her mother’s cup. “Would you like me to pour you some more?”

“Jah, sure, that’d be nice.”

Faith dried her hands and got the simmering teakettle. She had just finished pouring hot water into her mother’s cup when someone tapped on the back door.

“I wonder if that could be Doris,” Mama said. “I didn’t hear a car pull into the yard, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” When Faith opened the door, she was surprised to see Barbara standing on the porch.

“Wie geht’s?”
Barbara asked.

“I’m all right. How about you?”

“Fine and dandy.”

“Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea? Mama’s having some while we wait for Doris to give us a ride to Springfield for Mama’s first therapy session, and I’m finishing up the dishes.” Faith held the door open.

With an eager expression, Barbara nodded. “I always enjoy a good cup of tea.”

Faith led the way to the kitchen and pulled out a chair for Barbara. “Have a seat, and I’ll get another cup.”

“Wie geht’s, Wilma?” Barbara asked, smiling at Faith’s mother.

“I’m doing all right,” Mama replied. “The bone in my leg’s healed, although I do need some therapy.” She smiled at Barbara. “My oldest daughter’s been taking real good care of me.”

“Glad to hear it.” Barbara sat down, and Faith scurried to get tea and cups for both herself and her friend. Then she joined the women at the table.

“What brings you over our way, and where’s your horse and buggy? We never heard you pull in,” Mama said, looking at Barbara.

“I walked over today. Thought I could use the exercise.” Barbara patted her thick hips. “The reason for my visit, Wilma, is to invite you and your daughters to an all-day quilting bee at my house next Thursday.”

“That sounds like fun,” Mama said. “I’d like to come, but Esther and Grace Ann will both be working, so they won’t be able to make it.” She glanced over at Faith. “How about you? Would you like to go to the quilting bee?”

“How can you host a quilting bee when you work at the harness shop with your husband?” Faith asked Barbara.

“We’re fairly well caught up on things right now.” Barbara took a sip of tea. “So David suggested that I take a few days off and do something fun with my friends. He said I’m in the shop too much and need to fellowship more.” She rested her hand on Faith’s arm. “Please say you’ll come.”