The Guardian (25 page)

Joshua could not believe his ears or eyes as he rose from the table where he’d laid out his German and English Bibles—his customary Sunday afternoon activity. He’d detected the motion of a carriage in his lane, and when he looked out, there was Ida Fisher, tying her horse to the back hitching post. Lo and behold, if she wasn’t reaching into the buggy for a hot dish.

It was awkward to think of inviting her inside, given their single state, which Ida undoubtedly was hankering to change.

If Joshua hadn’t felt so drained from last night’s disappointing
end with Maryanna Esh, he might’ve taken care to put on a pleasant face for this woman who’d cooked up a meal for him, as she described the baked beef stew while standing there on his back stoop.

“Denki, Ida,” he said as he received the large casserole.

“No need to bother reheating it,” she said, eyes bright. “‘Least not if ya plan for an early supper.”

Like last evening, she thinks.

“It should be fine if ya keep it covered.” She tapped the quilted top and smiled up at him. “I hope you enjoy your supper, Joshua.” She said it so kindly, it tore at his heart.

“I will, indeed” was all he could say. Nothing else came to mind as she returned to her horse and carriage. Nothing at all to encourage her thoughtful benevolence.

Still holding the hot dish, Joshua looked over the meadow at Maryanna’s farmhouse, the sting of her rejection still vivid in his mind. Then, realizing how rude he’d been just now to poor Ida, he felt truly sorry.

I refuse to hurt her. I simply will not.

Joshua hurried into the kitchen and set down the casserole dish on the stove top, then rushed back out the door, down the steps, and all the way down the lane. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” he called after Ida, waving his hand high as her carriage slowed. “I’ll drop by to visit soon,” he promised.

Her responsive smile gave Joshua a sense of resignation, and he was uncomfortably aware of his Adam’s apple, wedged in his throat.

O
n the carriage ride back from Ned Peachey’s, Jodi thoroughly enjoyed the pent-up energy of Maryanna’s children, who were laughing and jabbering in the back of the carriage. Benny, Leda, and Toby had not been told of her decision to accept the school board’s request, since the three fathers, along with Mary Beiler, the bishop’s wife, and Preacher Yoder’s wife, Lovina, first wanted to meet with Jodi tomorrow afternoon at the bishop’s house.

Things had happened swiftly once Jodi made up her mind during the leisurely wander along the field road with Maryanna. Yet Jodi had no second thoughts.
Teaching Amish children will be an interesting experience.
She smiled, remembering how she’d viewed with some apprehension the idea of teaching a two-grade combination class at her former school. To think she’d now be teaching eight grades in a single day! At least Rosaleen was staying around for the first week, and Jodi would have good support from the People, as well.

As she let the horse and carriage carry her along, Jodi realized she did not miss her playlist. Usually when she drove anywhere, she required her music, anything from light pop or jazz
to Aaron Copland. And it struck her that perhaps some of her habits might begin to change because of her short stay in Hickory Hollow.

She recalled the fabric Sadie Peachey had handed off to her for clothing, and she wondered what else might change.

Will everything?

Maryanna pointed out Samuel Lapp’s dairy farm, where she bought fresh raw milk for the family. “Rebecca and I’ve made a
gut
many quilted wall hangings to sell at market in that house,” she told Jodi.

They rode past the large spread of land and the local harness shop. A chubby man still dressed in his Sunday clothes waved when he spotted them. “We get our harnesses oiled frequently,” Maryanna told her. “If they dry up, they’ll crack … and we sure don’t want that.”

A while later, Maryanna pointed to what Jodi recognized as the bishop’s farmhouse. “In the late fall and winter, I go to quilting bees over there once a week. Bishop John Beiler and his wife, Mary, live there with their blended family.”

“Oh?” Jodi’s ears perked up.

“John was a widower when he married young Mary Stoltzfus.”

“It’s the bishop’s second marriage?”

“Jah.” Maryanna gave her a curious look. “There are presently several younger widowers in the community—you already know ‘bout one of them.”

“You mean Joshua?”

Maryanna nodded without looking her way. “I doubt there’ll be many widowers for long, though. Men tend to remarry right quick, within a few months to a year, especially when there are children to raise.” Maryanna gave a faint smile. “Not so the widows.”

Jodi didn’t probe.

They were coming up on a large white barn, which Maryanna mentioned had been raised a few years back after a lightning strike burned the original in a massive fire at Stephen Peachey’s old homestead. “That’s Joshua’s father’s former place. Just look at all the Dawdi Hauses.”

Jodi counted three. “Looks like at least three relatives live there.”

Maryanna affirmed that. “You can usually tell how many generations are living in a place by the number of additions built onto the main house.”

Jodi paused to think how different her own life might have been if her grandparents had lived in close proximity to her parents when she and Karen were growing up. “Where do Benuel’s parents live?” she asked, hoping the question wasn’t too intrusive.

“Several years ago they moved northwest of here to Smoketown to be near their next oldest son and family.”

“Do you ever see them?”

“When we do, we make the trip to visit them,” Maryanna explained. “They’re both up in years, and it’s too hard on them to travel even a short distance. Which makes our time together all the sweeter.” She sighed and gave Jodi a quick smile. “The children love goin’—their grandmother reminds them of Benuel—her smile, the way she rolls her eyes and tilts her head back to laugh at funny stories. Let me tell ya, Benuel’s parents truly love my children … maybe more so because Benuel’s gone.”

Jodi took it all in. “A reminder of their loss?”

Maryanna dipped her head slightly. “The first year, it was very hard. But not so much anymore. Families are, after all, the heartbeat of our existence.”

Jodi was thankful the children were back there talking and
playing clapping games now. “I hope I’m not being too nosy,” she said softly.

“Not at all.” Maryanna looked over her shoulder. Then, leaning her head so as not to be heard by them, Maryanna quietly offered Jodi a room. “A place to stay, once you’re ready to settle in.”

“Oh, I’d love that!” She glanced down at Sarah, tucked between them. “Thank you.”

Jodi had told Ned and Sadie that she would need to briefly return to Vermont once she finished house-sitting. She hoped to temporarily sublet her apartment, and she wanted a day or two to gather up some clothing and personal effects before returning to Hickory Hollow. “I have lots of curriculum to study between now and the end of August, Ned says.”

“Well, Rosaleen knows a seasoned Amish teacher over in New Holland who has a few workbooks she’s actually written,” Maryanna said as they passed the road sign for Hickory Lane. “Maybe you could glean from her, too.”

Benny must’ve overheard them, because he said from the back of the carriage, “We use the blackboard a lot at school.”

“Jah, we like it when the teacher calls our grade up to do our spelling words,” Toby said.

“And long division,” Benny added.

“I like ringing the last bell at eight-thirty,” Leda said, evidently not to be left out. “And singing the three morning songs … and the German song, too.”

“Same ones every day?” asked Jodi.

“We get to choose,” Leda replied.

“See?” Maryanna nodded her head. “The children will teach ya, and right quick.”

“Jodi’s gonna be our teacher, then?” Benny and Toby asked together, their words laced with exuberance.

Maryanna urged them to keep this information mum. “Till I tell ya it’s all right to say … you hear?”

Jodi couldn’t keep from smiling. Here were three of her twenty-two scholars.

She thought ahead to what time it was in Japan and realized Trent was most likely sleeping now—thirteen hours’ difference. How fun that he would be teaching English to Japanese students while she taught Amish curriculum in Hickory Hollow.

What might have seemed unthinkable weeks earlier, she actually welcomed, thanks to the emotional roller coaster of panic and now… was this the peace Maryanna had spoken of as they walked on the field road earlier? The peace of submission—a yielding of the soul?

They must believe I’m called to do this… .

Maryanna’s invitation to stay with her family surprised Jodi, as well. Did Maryanna view her as a friend now, or did she simply feel she could trust her? What had changed?

She spotted the Esh farm coming up, and Joshua Peachey’s farmhouse just east of it. A horse and carriage with a woman driver was ready to pull out onto the road where Jodi and the children had stood talking a week ago today, after their church gathering.

Jodi observed the lovely woman with the radiant smile. Then, turning, she saw Joshua himself run after the carriage, waving and calling something to the woman.

Jodi glanced at Maryanna, who was watching this, as well. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what she was seeing on Maryanna’s face. Was it surprise? Or dismay? Surely not jealousy!

B
efore Scott and Paige pulled into the driveway midmorning Wednesday, Jodi had cleaned their house thoroughly, with the exception of the master bedroom, which she had not used. Inspired by Maryanna’s polished kitchen, Jodi wanted everything to be picture perfect for her cousin’s arrival.

I’d love to return to a clean house!
She thought of her own apartment—she’d have some dusting to do there for sure. As for subletting her place, Jodi’s old church friend Carra Mason was tickled by the short-term opportunity.

The details of her autumn stint in Hickory Hollow were falling neatly into place, but it was the future beyond that still looked unclear, with no job openings in the school districts she’d contacted.

In a matter of three days, Jodi had covered the daily school schedule for grades one through five with Rosaleen Yoder, as well as much of the course study for those grades. She had also learned at the meeting with the school board last Monday afternoon that the twenty-two pupils came from six families,
all within walking distance of the one-room school. None of the three first graders spoke English, so Lovina Yoder had been appointed to help them communicate with Jodi. Lovina would also attend each school day to keep an eye on things, as was planned.

Rosaleen had loaned her a handbook,
Tips for Teachers,
as well as the
Blackboard Bulletin,
which included solid advice, fun riddles, and interesting stories to appeal to Amish children. Jodi was still getting used to hearing Rosaleen refer to “keeping her school.” While Rosaleen enjoyed her freedom as an engaged young woman planning her November wedding, she seemed happy to help Jodi, even pinpointing various students on the school roll who could assist some of the younger scholars.

Jodi didn’t feel overwhelmed, though she was concerned with the school board’s assessment of her work ethic. It was impossible to erase the memory of Ned Peachey’s near scowl when she’d first arrived at his home Sunday afternoon. Ned and Sadie hadn’t even cracked smiles when she’d agreed to be the teacher substitute. But educating Amish children was exceptionally serious business, she realized, far more sobering than any school setting she’d ever encountered. Or ever would again! Jodi had felt almost reprimanded when Ned’s wife took her aside and asked, on behalf of the Hickory Hollow community, that she pull back her hair at school and not wear pants or immodest clothing while teaching.
“Nothing form-fitting,”
Sadie had said.
“You know what I mean… .”

As soon as Jodi packed her books and a few casual clothes back home—no need for makeup or many toiletries—she planned to move into Maryanna’s vacant guest room. She wondered how she’d manage without electricity anywhere in the hollow. Then, smiling, she realized she’d have to see
if Scott and Paige would mind her coming there to Skype privately with Trent.

Something I’ve taken for granted,
she thought.

Before departing for Vermont, Jodi stopped in briefly to see the Esh family. By now, the children had been told Jodi was coming to stay with them for the interim. “In fact, news of the fancy teacher has spread to all the scholars,” Maryanna said as Jodi and the children joined her at the kitchen table to drink ice-cold meadow tea.

“Your room’s right across from mine!” little Sarah declared in Deitsch, which made Maryanna and the children laugh heartily, until they realized Jodi didn’t understand what she’d said. Once Maryanna had translated, Jodi laughed, too.

“Ach, there’ll be an angel sleepin’ upstairs,” Benny teased from the other end of the table.

“No, a teacher,” Toby insisted, his bangs sticking up.

“An angel of a teacher,” Leda said, eyes soft and smiling.

Maryanna reached out and hugged Leda. And when it was time to leave, Jodi felt a lump in her throat as she headed out to her car and set her GPS for home.

Before putting the car in reverse, she looked up and saw the children running out of the house, all of them waving. Sarah held her angel doll high over her head and blinked back tears.

Jodi opened her window. “I’ll be back in a few days,” she called to them as she inched back toward the road. When she looked again, she saw that Maryanna had joined her little ones outside, her arms around all four children, hugging them near.

Jodi was halfway between Albany, New York, and Arlington, Vermont, when her mother’s ringtone sounded.

“Hi, Mom,” she answered the phone. “How are you this beautiful day?”

“Well, don’t
you
sound perky?”

“I’m driving home to pack for my return trip to Hickory Hollow.”

“So you must be planning to go through with the short-term teaching position?”

Jodi said she was. “In a way, it’s on par with what Trent’s doing in Japan,” she said. “Minus the terrific pay, of course. But money’s not everything, right?”

“Will you also be teaching English?”

“Well, to three first graders, yes. The rest of the children speak it fairly well.”

“You sound
so good
, honey.”

Hearing that, Jodi realized she hadn’t felt quite like this since before Karen’s diagnosis. “I’m actually feeling pretty confident—and content—strange as it sounds.”

“I’m happy for you.” Mom paused. “Keep in mind, though, that you’re potentially tying up the first two months of the new school year. Your father is concerned about what that might do to any job prospects.”

“Right. But I’m viewing all of this as the chance of a lifetime, Mom. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“What will you do for the rest of the school year?” her mother pressed.

“If nothing else comes up, I’m leaning toward subbing in my old school district.”

Mom sighed into the phone. “So far from us, Jodi?”

“It’s not any farther than it has been the past year.”

“I guess I was just hoping.” Mom paused a second. “
We
were …”

Jodi tried to put herself in her mother’s shoes. “I know you understand, Mom.”

Her mother sighed and said she certainly did. “Well, your father sends his love along with mine.”

“I love you both,” Jodi replied. “And I’m glad Dad’s not upset.”

“Well …” Mom laughed softly. “I’ll just say that he’s getting over it.”

“
Is
he offended?”

“He really wanted to take care of his little girl.”

Jodi smiled.
I’m not little anymore.

“Someday, if you have children, I think you’ll understand.”

“Mom …”

“I know, I know. You’re not interested, but I hate to think what our lives would have been like without you and Karen.”

“Mom, we
lost
Karen.”

Her mother fell silent for a moment. “Just think, though. What if we’d never known her … or you? Our lives are so much richer for having loved both of you, dear.”

Deep down, Jodi knew she was right. “I miss her so much, Mom.”

“Oh, honey, your father and I do, too. We think of her every day and count our blessings. But we can’t stop living just because we’re afraid of losing.”

“That sounds like something my friend Maryanna would say.”

An awkward silence ensued.

“I don’t mean to sound pushy, Jodi.”

“I know.”

“Please drive carefully, and we’ll talk again soon.”

“Okay.”

“And text me when you’re home.”

Jodi sputtered. “Text you, really?”

Now they were both laughing.

“Guess I’m a little desperate, eh?” her mother said.

No kidding!

“Bye, Mom.”

“Good-bye, dear.”

When they hung up, Jodi sighed and plugged her phone into the charging port. “
Still
lobbying for grandkids,” she whispered.