The Photograph (7 page)

Fannie looked away. “Lily told me very little . . . only that she was leaving.”

“Goin' where?”

“She never said.”

“How can that be?” Eva asked.

“I'm tellin' the truth.” Fannie blinked back tears. “I warned her 'bout leaving. But she was so determined. She's kept everything so secret.”

I'm
getting nowhere with this girl.
Then she mentioned that Naomi had reported having seen Fannie and Lily together yesterday.

“I was just sayin' good-bye, is all,” Fannie explained.

“And it didn't occur to you to warn Frona and me 'bout this?”

“Lily will be fine.” Fannie sighed. “She knows what she wants. Just let her be.”

“What if you're wrong?”

Fannie glared at her. “Would you want
me
to stand in your way if you were bent on doin' something?”

“If it was something like this, I would. Why not? We're here
to help each other.” Eva kept her gaze on the accomplice, for surely Fannie was that. “Fannie, if you know anything more . . . anything at all, please tell me.”

The young woman's lip trembled, but her expression hardened. “Leave me alone! It's not my fault.” With that, Fannie dropped the hose, ran to turn off the spigot, and stormed inside.

Eva blew out her breath at Fannie's stubborn but misguided loyalty.

What now, O Lord?

U
NABLE
TO
SHAKE
E
VA
'
S
EARLIER
LOOK
of consternation, Naomi headed out on foot to Ida Mae's, having forgotten her sturdy walking stick. It wasn't that she felt old at seventy-three, but some days brought unexpected and painful twinges that were difficult to ignore. Abner encouraged her at times, saying,
“You're still my spring
chicken.”

She had to smile, despite her present concerns, knowing the kind, jovial man she'd married—never a lack of laughter around the house, especially first thing in the morning. Marrying Abner Mast had been the best thing she could have ever done for herself.

Once she arrived at Ida Mae's, Naomi felt content to simply sit at the quilting frame and make tiny stitches, not bringing up what had transpired with Lily Esch.

“You're not so chatty today, Mamm.” Her daughter's big hazel eyes were intent. “Somethin's bothering ya.”

The grapevine would have its way soon enough, but for their time together, Naomi preferred to skirt the tension.

“Are ya worried 'bout Lily?”

Naomi's breath caught in her throat. “You've heard?”

“Eva dropped by just a bit ago, askin' if I knew anything of her sister's whereabouts.”

“'Tis a pity. The Esch girls have had more than their share of challenges.”

Ida Mae reached inside her gray dress sleeve for a handkerchief and patted her eyes. “I wondered recently if Lily wasn't itchin' to get out and see the world. 'Specially after Dottie passed away—Lily seemed restless to me.” She shook her head, sighing. “Guess she finally did it.”

“Are ya sayin' she wanted to travel to other places—just to see new sights?” Naomi wondered if Lily wasn't actually interested in
living
in the outside world; maybe she just wanted to experience it during her
Rumschpringe
—the running-around time before joining church.
But
where'd she get the money?

Her daughter rose to make some hot tea. “I s'pose it must be enticing for a curious young woman, wanting to understand fancy ways,” Ida Mae said, reaching for two teacups. “All the perty pictures of other states in those geography books, ya know. I remember how it stirred up ideas in me, too, back when.”

Sightseeing?
thought Naomi.
Is that
what Lily is up to?

“I wouldn't be surprised if her brother Menno didn't play a part in this,” Ida Mae was saying as she carried some honey to the table. “Bena told me the other day that her Menno's ready to take over the Esch farm, which might leave the girls scrambling for another place to live.”

“Well, now.” No wonder Eva mentioned Menno's visit. But she hadn't revealed any of this.
Why not?
Naomi's heart sank. Still, she might've known this would eventually happen, given his parents were both gone now. Naomi supposed Menno was the designated heir to the old homestead.

When the water came to a boil, Ida Mae poured it into the floral cups and offered her mother a variety of teas to choose
from. They sat awhile, stirring and sipping, and Naomi's heart went out to all three Esch girls.

Later, when Naomi had drunk her tea and completed a row of stitches, she put down her needle and thimble. “I wanted to mention somethin' else, Ida Mae. Your father and I were talkin' earlier about your brother Omar. Has he said anything about wanting to vote in the presidential election come November?”

Ida Mae's head bobbed up. “
Ach
, why would he want to?”

“Honestly, he's so intrigued by Ronald Reagan and politics in general, makes your father and me a bit concerned.”

“Omar's prob'ly itchin' for lower taxes for farmers.”

Naomi shook her head. “Who's to say?”

“Well, voting ain't something Joel and I would ever consider doin'. Might be only a handful of Amish who would. Maybe Joel knows more 'bout what Omar's thinkin'.”

“
Jah
, talk to your husband and see.” Naomi poured a second cup of tea. “Still, I hope Omar's changed his mind. The bishop's not so keen on getting involved with national politics. We're sojourners here, just a-passin' through.”

Ida Mae agreed. “There's plenty to do just to keep our churches runnin' smoothly. I say, let the world run the government!”

Some time later, Alan Yoder, Ida Mae's nephew-in-law, arrived with a baker's dozen of fresh biscuits from his mother. Right away he started talking about Lily. “I heard this morning from Fannie Ebersol's brother Thomas that Lily's left for good.”

Word's traveling fast,
Naomi thought.

Once people heard the news, likely it would be weeks before some sense of calm returned to Eden Valley. She couldn't help wondering if young Alan had used this delivery as a way to spread gossip.

“Lily asked me to take her to town just last week,” Alan said, eyes wide. “She never said what she was doin', but it seemed mighty important.”

Ida Mae glanced at Naomi. “What do you mean?”

Alan pushed his fists into his trouser pockets. “Well, she made me wait for her, and when she came out of the mall, she was clutching a small, flat paper sack.” He looked up now, singling out Ida Mae. “Didn't think nothin' of it at the time.”

Ida Mae stared at him. “What're ya sayin', Alan?”

“
Puh!
My big mouth.” He had the good sense to look sheepish.

Naomi's interest was piqued. And because she didn't wish to
renkle
, she bit her lip. Disgusted, she said nicely yet firmly, “It's kind of you to drop by, Alan. Now, don't ya have some other deliveries to make?”

With that, the lad turned and headed outdoors.

Feeling all in, Naomi returned to the front room and sat down at the quilting frame.
Without a
doubt, there's more to all of this than poor
Eva may ever know,
she realized.
Once young folks leave
to become
Englischers
, they're rarely heard from again. . . .

Fannie's attitude this morning continued to disturb Eva, and she did not understand why Lily, who'd written of wanting a life away from the People, would arrange for an Amishman to pick her up last night.

Surely, Lily will become disillusioned with the modern
world and come back,
Eva thought. This hope squeezed her heart, and she tried to take comfort from Sylvia Lantz's wisdom that God's hand was on her dear sister.

Eva slowed the horse and headed back toward home, discouraged. The sun was inching ever higher; Frona was likely cooking the noon meal.

A mere quarter mile from home, she noticed Alfred Dienner pulling out of his father's dirt lane in his buggy. Alfred spotted her, too, and waved politely, his smile enveloping his tan face. She felt a twinge of guilt for having accepted his invitation to play Ping-Pong.

“Alfred's heart turns to sauce when
you're around,”
Lily had once teased, insisting there was nothing wrong with marrying a farmer.
“If you love
him enough,”
she'd added.

If anyone took hard work seriously, it was Alfred. He was well respected in the community, too.
“Your love would grow,”
Eva could imagine Mamma saying.

It might, if the Lord wills,
Eva thought, putting on a smile for Alfred as she slowed Prince to less than a trot.

She felt a twinge of sadness. A farmer's wife had no time to keep up with a thriving candy store.
Maybe someday in the future
, once the children are grown.

Alfred pulled up beside her, but his smile had faded. In fact, he looked downright somber. “I was just headin' over your way, Eva. Funny runnin' into you.”

“Have ya already eaten your stash of candy?”

He gripped the reins and turned slightly in his seat, his manner unusually tentative. “I received an unexpected letter this mornin',” he said. “I'm afraid it changes everything for us, Eva.”

She waited for him to continue as his strange phrasing echoed in her head:
“
Changes everything for us.” He's stretching things,
she thought.

“I'm leaving for Kingston, Wisconsin, at first light tomorrow,” he said in a quick flow of words. “I wanted you to know.”

“You're goin' away?” This was the last thing she'd expected.

“Till sometime this fall.”

A
long time!

“I need to lend a hand to my father's cousin. He's laid up with a bad back.”

“Your family will surely miss ya.”

“I didn't want you to think I quit goin' to youth gatherings and whatnot.” Alfred seemed to struggle with what to say. “My father thinks it'll be a
gut
change for me.” He nodded as though affirming this to himself. “Doing something besides farming, ya know.”

She was baffled. “What will you be doin'?” She embarrassed herself with her sudden curiosity.

“Woodworking,” he said, but she noticed his expression, like his heart wasn't much in it.

“You might enjoy yourself,
jah
?”

“Hard to imagine,” Alfred admitted. “But that's not all I wanted to discuss with you.” He leaned across his buggy seat, smiling again. “I know we haven't spent much time together, but I'd like to write to you while I'm away
 . . .
if you're agreeable. Maybe court ya by mail.”

She gasped inwardly. It struck Eva as ironic that, after her hesitations about becoming a farmer's wife, Alfred was seemingly being transferred to Wisconsin to learn a trade. And while he hadn't hidden his interest in her, he'd never seemed quite so serious as now.

“Alfred, this is all so sudden.”

His countenance dropped. “I'll write more 'bout what I'm thinking, if that suits ya.” He paused. “A
gut
way to keep in touch,
jah
?”

She opened her mouth to answer but stopped. Alfred was staring at the floor of his buggy, and she felt just terrible.
What should I say?

“Eva?” he asked, clearly anxious for her answer.

“Sure, if you'd like to, Alfred,” she heard herself reply.

“
Wunnerbaar!
” He clicked his tongue to the horse and waved as it pulled him forward.

During the ride home, Eva felt as if she were at the bottom of a lake, struggling to reach the surface for a gasp of air. By the time she directed Prince into their driveway, she was so flustered she didn't know which she was more worried about: her sister's worldly future or her own.