The Telling (3 page)

four

The sun beat hard on the back of her neck as Grace waited for someone to come to the door. She felt too warm as she turned to ask Heather, “Should I knock again?”

“Why not?”

Grace stared at the door. “Maybe they’re away.” She knocked once more, aware of the pounding of her heart.

Finally, a woman who looked to be close to her mother’s age answered the door. Her hair bun was a bit looser and higher than Grace’s and the sides were not as tightly twisted as the womenfolk’s in Bird-in-Hand.

“Hullo,” Grace said. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.” She paused and offered a smile. “Are you Susan Kempf?”

“Jah.” The woman’s brown eyes sparkled as she searched Grace’s face. “And who are you, dear?”

“Grace Byler... I understand my mother’s here visitin’.”

“Grace, you say?” Susan’s face lit up. “Ach, I’ve heard so much about you!” She looked quizzically at Heather now and motioned for both of them to come inside. “
Willkumm.
Make yourselves at home.”

“This is Heather Nelson, a friend of mine... she drove us here from Lancaster County.”

“Goodness’ sakes, all that way?” Susan ushered them into her front room and offered them a seat on a small settee.

Grace couldn’t help looking around the room, wondering if her mother was within earshot. “The time went fast, really.” Then, because she felt like she might burst if she didn’t ask, she said, “Is my mother here with you?”

Susan turned in her chair to face Grace. “Oh, honey-girl, your mother left yesterday afternoon... while I was away visitin’ my sister.” She paused, sitting straight up in the chair. “It surprised me no end that she should up and leave like that.”

Grace frowned hard. How could this be? Her head throbbed at the temples. So they’d just missed her? Or had Mamma suspected someone might come to fetch her, what with the grapevine wending back to Bird-in-Hand?

“I’m so sorry,” Susan said.

Wringing her hands, Grace stared at the polished hardwood floor. Heather leaned near and touched her back briefly. Grace managed to ask, “Where’d she go, do ya know?”

Susan’s eyes reflected Grace’s pain. “She talked about possibly goin’ to see a cousin named Hallie. She was waiting to hear from her, in fact... but she never said she’d received a letter back.” The older woman gazed at the ceiling. “She also mentioned wanting to see a particular doctor in Indiana.” Susan stopped for a second. “I don’t recall his name.”

“A doctor?”
First a midwife, now a doctor?

Susan nodded warily.

A cloud of rejection fell on Grace.
Of course, Mamma doesn’t know I set out to find her.
Still, she felt simply crushed in spirit. That, and terribly frustrated.

She sat there as the afternoon sun poured through the front windows, wondering what to say next. And, bless her heart, Susan looked terribly uncomfortable, too.

“Maybe we should excuse ourselves and get going,” Heather whispered.

But Grace could not abide the idea of leaving, not when they’d just arrived. The whole, long ordeal streamed over her once again, and she leaned her face into her hands. Oh, she’d wanted this to turn out so differently! How could Mamma
not
be here, waiting to be found?
Wanting to be found...

She raised her head. In a whisper, she asked, “Is Mamma unwell? Is that why she needs a doctor?”

“You can rest assured your mother is not sick. Not by any means.” Susan rose quickly.

Wherever she’s gone now... is Mamma happy?
Grace hoped so, yet she questioned if that was possible.
So far away from her family.

Susan offered them something to drink. “I’ve got some sweetened meadow tea and homemade root beer – which would ya like?”

Grace turned toward Heather to see if she cared for anything. “What do you want to do?” she asked softly.

“It’s up to you,” Heather replied.

“I
am
thirsty.”

Heather nodded. “I’ll have the tea, thanks.”

“Same for me,” Grace replied. And while Susan was in the kitchen and presumably unable to hear, Grace bemoaned their situation to her new friend. “Now what? You’ve pushed yourself hard to get here; you need to rest.”

Heather’s eyes were serious. “We certainly didn’t plan on this, did we?”

“Oh,” she sighed, “why didn’t Mamma tell Susan where she was headed?”

She and Heather sat quietly, taking in the simple furnishings, so similar to those in Dat’s farmhouse. A wood-framed needlepoint picture graced the wall over the sideboard in the smaller sitting room, only a few steps from where Grace sat. She certainly didn’t care to snoop, but from her vantage point, the upholstered gray rocker looked a lot like Mammi Adah’s back home, as did the pretty pink-and-cream-colored hurricane gas lamp nearby.

It crossed her mind to borrow Heather’s cell phone to make a call to the Riehls’ – or to Sally Smucker’s boutique phone – to get word to Dat that she’d arrived here safely. But now, with Mamma already gone again, wouldn’t that only upset them?

“We can’t just turn around and drive back today,” Grace said.

“I guess we could, but... I am pretty wiped out.” Heather sighed. “We can talk about where to stay later, in the car.”

Meanwhile, Susan was coming their way, carrying a tray of goodies – not only the iced tea, but two kinds of cookies, too: butterscotch icebox and hermits. “Here we are, girls. This should perk you up a bit... just till suppertime, that is.”

She must think we’re staying!
Grace looked at Heather.

Susan nodded with a smile. “I’m sure you could use a rest, jah?”

“Denki... ever so kind of you.” Grace reached for a glass
of tea.

“Oh, take a cookie or two,” Susan urged. “I doubt you stopped for a nice hot meal on the road. Did you?”

Heather smiled but didn’t take a cookie. “Unfortunately, one of us is on a very strict diet.”

“Ach, you girls look fit as all get-out.” Susan tilted her head comically. “Please say you ain’t tryin’ to lose weight – neither of ya?”

Grace glanced at Heather, but it was her friend’s place to bring up her illness.

“Oh, it’s definitely not that; I’m trying to eat more healthfully,” Heather explained.

“Well, would you prefer fresh fruit? I have some in the kitchen.” Susan set the tray down on a small table near the settee.

“Yes, please,” said Heather.

Quickly, Susan returned with a bowl of fresh strawberries, bananas, and sliced apples. “Here we are, dear.”

“Great, thanks,” Heather said, reaching for a napkin and a few berries.

“Getting back to wherever my mother went,” Grace said once Susan sat again, “did she mention when – or if – she might be returning to Lancaster County?”

“Not really, no.” Susan paused, a strange look on her face. It was as if she didn’t trust herself to say more – as if she’d made some sort of promise to Mamma.

But Grace couldn’t feel poorly toward Susan. Not as nice as she was – inviting them to stay for supper, no less.

“How do you know my mother?” Grace said more softly. “If I can be so bold to ask.”

“Why, sure... I’m happy to say.” Susan described how she’d met Grace’s mother at a local restaurant. “I waitress there part-time. Your mother looked so lonely when she came in one evening, like she needed a friend.”

So Susan had been a
stranger
? Such a revelation made Grace cringe. She did not understand one speck of this!

“I invited her to come and stay here with me, beings I’m a widow and alone myself. She was hesitant at first, but when she was able to get the little motel in town to refund her money, your mother came. She seemed truly anxious for company.”

This didn’t sound like something her mother would do. Grace shook her head. “Are we talking ’bout Judah’s Lettie from Bird-in-Hand?”

“The selfsame.” Susan went on to say she’d heard from Lettie about Grace’s father, Judah, and her siblings, Adam, Mandy, and Joe. “And all the new little lambs comin’ on this spring.”

Lambing season.
Grace felt badly for having left her father at such a busy time. But she’d also promised to return quickly, and now that Mamma was clearly not here, they would be home by tomorrow evening at the latest. “Did she ever say what she was doin’ here... in Ohio?”

Susan glanced down at her lap. “Not at first.”

Heather made a little sound and rose, making a beeline to the door. “I’ll let the two of you talk alone.” With that, she was gone.

Susan eyed the door. “Is Heather a friend of yours?”

Grace nodded. “She’s not accustomed to our ways, so she prob’ly thought you wanted privacy.”

“Well, that’s not the case,” Susan was quick to say. “Not at all.”

“I don’t mean to pry.” Grace was eager to know what Mamma’s new friend knew but wasn’t sharing.

“Heather – your English friend – looks awfully pale. Is she feelin’ all right?”

“She did all the drivin’, so naturally she’s tired.” Grace realized that she, too, was holding back.

“Well, I hope the two of you will stay the night. Your Mamma would insist, as well – if she were still here.”

Would Mamma have insisted on riding home with us, too?
Grace looked out the window and saw Heather leaning with her back against the car, working her thumbs on her little phone.

“Why’d Mamma leave so suddenly from here... do ya know?”

Susan adjusted her Kapp, then sighed. “Grace... can you trust me?” Her eyes glimmered. “She’s goin’ to be all right... and so are you. Your mother will be home in due time.”

“But when?”

“When her search is finished.” Susan brushed her tears away. “That’s all I best be sayin’.”

What search?

In spite of her frustration, Grace’s heart went out to Susan, seeing how moved she was.
So Mamma will return home eventually.

Grace glanced out the window again, but Heather was no longer near the car. “Well, I ought to be checkin’ on my friend.”

“Please feel free to rest up or do as you wish,” Susan invited. “You’ll each have your own room upstairs... if you’d like.”

“That’s very nice of you. I’ll see if Heather wants to stay.” She rose and moved toward the door. Her black shoes seemed out of place in Susan’s neat and tidy front room. Then, turning, she gave the generous woman a smile. “I can see why Mamma wanted to be here... with you.”

Susan placed a hand on her chest and nodded. “She’s a dear woman. I’m just glad I could help her out during this time.”

Grace felt thankful for Susan, too, but she was completely mystified by Mamma’s peculiar behavior. She gathered her wits and reached for the doorknob to let herself out.

five

The last thing Heather wanted to do was sit, whether in Susan Kempf’s house or back in the car. Her back ached, her thighs were numb... her brain hurt. To think they’d made this trip for nothing. Like Grace had said,
now what?

Actually, it looked as if they were being offered a night’s lodging at Susan’s. And because Lettie’s friend was so kind, Grace would undoubtedly want to settle in for the rest of the day.
We can get up early and head out tomorrow
.

For now, though, Heather could not imagine making small talk during a long, drawn-out meal in Susan’s kitchen. If she were back at Marian Riehl’s place, she’d probably opt out once again and go walking beneath the trees along Mill Creek. Compelled to get some exercise here, as well, Heather grabbed her sunglasses and hurried north on the little stretch of road, wondering where it might lead.

As she went, she occasionally admired the astonishingly straight rows of corn on either side of the road. She felt literally surrounded by acres of the low cornstalks, enjoying the idyllic setting.
Like I belong here somehow,
she mused.
Dad said I was born out here... to an Amish girl.

Dad’s sudden revelation was still nearly incomprehensible. Not only hard to believe, but, for someone who’d grown up so incredibly modern, even mind-bending on some level.

She lifted her hair and let the air cool her neck. What she wouldn’t give for a firm bed right now. That and some salty chips and chocolate ice cream.

Her phone chimed and she saw that Wannalive – or Jim, as the blogger had recently revealed his name to be – was texting her again. Of course, she’d gotten things started earlier while pumping gas at the truck stop, telling her online friend about the impulsive road trip. But she hadn’t revealed she was driving her new Amish friend to visit her mom until just a few minutes ago.

Hey, I know some Amish farmers,
he’d written back.

She was cautious in her reply, not saying where she and Grace had ended up: the smallest town she’d ever seen. But where had
he
encountered Plain folk? Amish farmers were buying up land from Kentucky to Montana, according to her dad, with some even settling into the southern Colorado hamlets of Westcliffe and Monte Vista.

To think my “English” dad’s doing the opposite, moving into an established Amish community like he is.

Thanks to her dad’s recent visit to the Bird-in-Hand area, she’d had a crash course in Amish-style home building after he lined up preacher-contractor Josiah Smucker to build his house. She laughed, even though the surprising turn of events continued to perplex her. Dad’s excuse was that it had much to do with his and Mom’s hope to retire someday in Lancaster County, a connection having formed to this particular part of the country during their visits there over the years.

Familiar as Heather was with the Lancaster Amish, she’d never really been to this part of Ohio before – that she knew of, anyway. Here in the place of her birth, the reality of her roots struck her, and for the life of her, she didn’t understand the instant surge of raw emotion. Moved by the serenity of nature encircling her, she breathed in the air’s fragrance to keep from crying. She had walked farther than she’d intended to, and she was almost relieved when her phone chimed again.

This time it was Dad.
Did you arrive in Ohio, kiddo?

Sure – easy for a girl with a GPS,
she quickly replied. She laughed, unable to help herself. Better to laugh than to weep senselessly.

Then, since she was in texting mode again, she sent one back to Jim:
Looks like I might be on a wild goose chase here.

Quickly, Jim replied.
How are you doing?

I’m wiped out. But my Amish friend and I haven’t decided what to do yet. Doubt we’ll turn around and drive right back.

Well, take it easy,
he responded.
Hope things work out there.

Thanx.

She waited, feeling a little surprised that she hoped he’d write again. But more than five minutes passed and his texts had ceased. Glancing back down the road, she estimated she’d already walked a good half mile from Susan Kempf’s farmhouse. Was Grace getting caught up on her mom’s whereabouts to her satisfaction? Heather hoped so... wanting something good to come of this trip.
For Grace’s sake.

Pushing her phone into her jeans pocket, she reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out a hair binder. She gathered her thick hair into a ponytail and secured it, feeling nearly childlike as she relished the rolling landscape, utterly aware of the ticking of insects on all sides.

Lettie stared at the floral psalm calendar and silently counted the days till the summer solstice – June twenty-first. Oh, so many hot and humid days ahead. As a girl, summertime had always seemed long, back when June and July lingered like a tomato slow to ripen.

Now it was nearly Memorial Day, the official start of summer for most folk. And here she was in Nappanee, Indiana, at Cousin Hallie Troyer’s, still far from Bird-in-Hand. She’d heard Hallie’s jam or jelly customer leave by way of the wheezing screen door only a few minutes ago. Hallie’s strawberries had come on much earlier than usual.
“A good thing for business,”
Hallie had told her last evening, when Lettie first arrived.

Having relaxed in her room following the noon meal, Lettie felt it was time to venture downstairs to visit some more. She stepped into the hallway, enjoying the feel of the well-worn runner against her bare feet. There was only one more important thing to accomplish before she could locate her daughter.

One more necessary thing...

In her letter to Lettie inviting her to come, Cousin Hallie had seemed rather elated at the prospect of a visit. That and full of questions. It was time to fess up, though not fully; Lettie was wiser than that. She would not share with Hallie the things she’d so openly told Susan while in Baltic. As fond as she was of sweet Hallie, Lettie felt sure it was best to keep mum about her search for her lost child. A faraway stranger-turned-friend was one thing, but revealing all of this to such a close cousin? That sort of connection had a way of divulging such news against one’s hopes... and better judgment, too.

She closed her eyes and pondered a line from the Lord’s Prayer.
Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
Indeed, Lettie had much to be forgiven for.

Creeping down the long staircase, she was careful to grip the handrail. She’d slipped before – slipped and fallen – on steps this steep back in Kidron while she and Mamm were helping her father’s ailing aunt, when she was expecting her first baby.
When my pregnancy was supposedly a secret.
But her great-aunt, ill and elderly as she was, had put it together when Mamm insisted Lettie rest on the sofa, urging her to get off her feet
“right quick.”
Mamm had been worried – even seemingly convinced – that Lettie would miscarry after her fall.

The secret... ended by a mere accident. Even Mamm had not wished for that. Sighing, Lettie dismissed the melancholy musings. She was plagued enough by nighttime worries without allowing such thoughts during the day.

Downstairs, she made her way through the kitchen and found Hallie in the front room, sitting near the widest window, embroidering a pillowcase, her reading glasses perched halfway down the bridge of her nose. A rose-shaped design was centered perfectly in the embroidery hoop.

“May I borrow your phone book?” Lettie asked.

Hallie looked up, her cheeks bright with peachy red spots. She wore a wine-colored dress and matching half apron, and a cup-shaped white Kapp with pleats that covered her tightly bound hair bun. “Not sure I’ve got one.”

Lettie had seen one under the table near the front room sofa, though why on earth her cousin owned it, Lettie hadn’t any idea. “Actually, you do. See? Right there,” she said, nodding at the small table.

Hallie looked surprised. “Well, it’s prob’ly so out of date.”

“That’s all right.” Lettie went to lift it out of its hiding spot. Needing to see with her own eyes that Dr. Joshua Hackman did indeed practice medicine in Nappanee, she opened to the
H’
s and ran her pointer finger down the page.
Hackenberg... Hackett... Hackford...

“What do ya want with it?” Hallie asked, her head tilted inquisitively like a puppy’s.

“Oh, just looking up someone I once knew,” Lettie said absently.

Hallie whispered to herself as she sat there.
Was she counting stitches?

There it is!
Lettie was greatly relieved to see Dr. Hackman’s office was in fact located nearby.
This should be easy.
She yearned for this to work out... just as she’d dreamed all these years.
I’ve come this far.

“Hallie, where might I find a telephone in the neighborhood?” She felt strange asking.

“Eddie and Lana, our neighbors up the hill, have one.” Hallie peered over her glasses. “They don’t seem to mind folks traipsing in and out.”

“You sure?”

Hallie laughed a little. “Would I lead you astray, Lettie? We’ve known each other since childhood.” Hallie’s father and two first cousins and their families had all pulled up roots from Lancaster County to relocate here in Nappanee when Hallie was only eleven, pleased at the prospect of more available land. Yet even after she’d gone, Hallie had remained faithful in her letters through the years, sharing even her disappointing experiences with Lettie.

Lettie glanced out the window. “Where’s your neighbor’s house?”

“Not so far, just over yonder.” Hallie waved toward the east. “Some of our young girls sneak up there and practice their typing skills on Lana’s computer. Strange that they’d want to dabble in the world like that.”

“Not so strange, really. Don’t ya remember your own
Rumschpringe
?” Lettie cringed. Oh, but she wished she hadn’t brought that up. Far as she knew, Hallie had been much more chaste than Lettie during her running-around years.

“Things can get out of hand fast when you’ve got Amish girls pokin’ round the Web, as they call it,” Hallie said.

“Hopefully it’s just a passing fancy for most. What’s worse is when young Plain women get educated up through high school and beyond. Why, I heard of one even wanting a job as an assistant to a lawyer.”

“A paralegal?”

“Not sure I know what that is,” Lettie admitted.

“Just what you said – an assistant to a lawyer” came Hallie’s swift reply.

Lettie looked at her cousin. Innocent as she was, it was clear Hallie was no longer a spring chicken.

Hallie continued. “That sort of thing does annoy me.” She sighed sadly and wrung her hands. “That, and hearin’ one of my own granddaughters complain about the Old Ways.”

“
This
is a surprise. Which granddaughter?”

“Rachel’s Linda. If you stay round long enough tomorrow, you’ll see her. She’s comin’ over for a cooking lesson in the morning.”

Lettie hadn’t seen little Linda in years. “That should be fun.”

“You think so? Well, let me tell ya, it’s like ropin’ a young calf for the first time. Seems Linda likes to put up a fuss whenever her Mamma tries to work with her.” Hallie looked tuckered out at the very idea. “This one doesn’t know yet how to make a piecrust from scratch.”

“Well, is there any other way?”

Hallie grimaced. “Linda keeps insisting she needs a recipe. ‘How can I make it if it’s not written down somewhere?’
Linda’s always sayin’.”

Lettie listened, amused.

“Rachel said Linda once wanted to know how much water to add to the dough, as if there’s a certain amount that always works.”

“What’d Rachel tell her?”

“She said to add water till it felt right.” Hallie shook her head. “Goodness, but the poor thing complained up and down, ‘Well, how am I s’posed to know what it should feel like when I’ve never made it before?’ And ya know what? Linda’s got a point.”

Lettie could no longer squelch her smile.

“Finally, Rachel said right out, ‘Linda Ann, if ya throw it up to the ceiling and it sticks, you’ve added too much water!’ And that was that.”

Now both Hallie and Lettie were nearly bent over, laughing. “Sounds like something my own mother said to all us girls when we were growin’ up.”

“Why, sure. It makes plenty
gut
sense, doesn’t it?”

They were nodding and joking about this so much that Lettie forgot to write down the phone number for Dr. Hackman. “Well, for goodness’ sake,” she muttered, realizing it only after she’d closed the phone book.

“What’s wrong?” Hallie asked.

“Just forgot the phone number, is all.”

Hallie fell silent. And Lettie decided yet again that it was truly best not to involve her cousin in her highly unusual mission.