The Telling (4 page)

six

D
ad, you joker
, thought Heather after he sent a text reminding her of the lodge program next week.
I won’t forget!
She smiled as she walked past yet another farmhouse that afternoon. The road was winding – and earlier, poor, anxious Grace had been forced to keep a sharp eye out for every mailbox on their drive to Susan Kempf’s.
And now to discover her mom’s missing... again.
Heather felt terribly sorry for her.

“Something’s really messed up about this,” she whispered, leaning her head back so the sun could shine full on her face. She really wanted to meet Grace’s mom, this woman who flitted so easily in and out of lives. Lettie Byler’s behavior perturbed her, especially now, when it appeared she’d slipped away as if she’d been tipped off about Grace’s coming.

Heather’s mom would never have done something that odd.
But now, her father was a different story. He had certainly seemed impulsive lately in his decision to buy land in the heart of horse-and-buggy country, then construct a modern farmhouse on it. Yet other than this surprising turn of events, the only other impulsive act he – and Mom – had ever committed was adopting her. At least it seemed spontaneous to her, based on Dad’s recent account of how she had come to be theirs.

She couldn’t forget how he looked when he’d told her, just days ago. It was still hard to accept that she had an Amish mother somewhere.
Here in Ohio, perhaps?
Well, not a mother
per se,
but someone who’d given her life. Her father had looked almost vulnerable as he revealed the story – she’d missed his tender side since Mom passed away. Her lifelong impression of who she was before his startling news – and the way she viewed herself now – were all mixed up in her mind, crisscrossed like a pattern on one of Marian Riehl’s quilts.

Her thoughts flew back to Grace, and she wondered how her friend was getting along with Susan. Had Grace ever been this far from home before? Heather seriously doubted it. As for herself, this trip would be her last for a while.

She sighed. When she attempted to view her life through the prism of the future, she hoped for an opportunity to live many more years. Besides, as Mom had said just weeks before she died, it wasn’t only about living: It was about loving.
“And loving well.”

How could a girl forget something like that? And to think it had been Mom’s desire to see the Lancaster naturopath Dr. LaVyrle Marshall and enroll in her Wellness Lodge – a desire her mom never got to fulfill. In a very real way, Mom was responsible for Heather’s own present path.
And so is God,
her mother might add if she were still alive.

Heather breathed in the rich scents of late spring. There were other memorable things Mom had said in her final weeks.
“You’ve got the solitude thing down, honey. Learn to gain strength from others.”

“So... does what I’m doing here now qualify?” Heather was so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realize someone was calling to her.

“Hullo” came a Dutchy-sounding voice again.

Looking up, she saw an Amishwoman dressed in a calf-length maroon dress with a black half apron, swinging a wicker basket by its handle. For a fleeting moment, it almost seemed as if the woman recognized Heather. Either that or she was just ultra-friendly, like most of the Amish folks Heather had met.

“Hey there,” Heather replied. “Nice day.”

“It certainly is,” the cheerful woman said, glancing at Heather’s jeans and shirt. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

Well, she was... and she wasn’t. “I’m here with a friend who’s visiting Susan Kempf.” Heather pointed in the direction of her house.

“Ah, such a good neighbor, Susan. We’ve put up plenty of canned goods over the years – quilted some together, too.” The woman looked down at her basket. “I’ve got quilting squares in here right now, just itchin’ for stitchin’.”

Heather laughed softly. “Did you make that up?”

“Well, now, I guess I did!”

Heather introduced herself. “I’m Heather.”

“Awful nice to meet you. I’m Minnie Keim.”

“Minnie,” repeated Heather. “What a cute name.”

“My friends say it suits me.”

“Is it
short
for something?”

Minnie chuckled. “No, just plain Minnie.” Minnie waved then, seemingly restless. “Well, have yourself a wonderful-
gut
visit with Susan. Oh, and don’t say I didn’t warn ya – she likes to cook and bake. Wants her guests to eat up right hearty, ya know.”

“I could use a few extra pounds,” Heather replied, although she had no intention of eating fattening foods. For her, it was fresh and raw all the way... at least until her blood tests indicated she was cancer-free.
Like Sally Smucker... if all goes well.

Heather shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
And if I survive the lodge experience.

Lettie gripped the telephone at Hallie’s neighbors’. “May I please speak to Dr. Hackman?”

“The doctor is with a patient,” replied the woman on the other end. “May I be of help?”

“I have a few questions, but I’d like to talk to him directly. Sometime today?”

“The schedule is filled, miss. I’d suggest making an appointment for a consultation.”

She inhaled deeply.
When will I have the nerve to use this telephone again?
“Would it be possible for
you
to check on something for me, maybe?”

“I’m the receptionist, so... that’s not possible. I’m very sorry.”

Lettie pressed on. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” She took a breath. “What if I told you it was something mighty important... about a baby? A baby girl I gave up for adoption years ago.”

“You’ll have to discuss that with Dr. Hackman.”

“Well, I’m only in town a very short time....” It wasn’t like her to argue. But, oh, Lettie could almost reach out and grasp the information she yearned for, she was so close to finding out what she’d come for.

“What is your name, please?” the receptionist asked.

“Lettie Byler.”

“I’ll see if we can find a time for an appointment. Please hold.”

There was a lengthy silence, then soft music in her ear.
O Lord, please guide me,
Lettie prayed.
May all this come together peacefully... according to your will.

While she waited she recalled her firstborn son’s birth. Oh, the indescribable joy she’d felt looking into Adam’s tiny, round face. She could’ve stared forever into those milky blue eyes. And then three more children had come along – hers and Judah’s. She’d experienced the same delight when first holding each of them, welcoming sweet Grace and, later, darling Mandy, then pudgy little Joe into the world.

“Mrs. Byler?” the receptionist said as she came back on the line. “We can squeeze you in tomorrow morning at nine-thirty.”

“I’ll take it,” Lettie agreed. “Denki ever so much.” She hung up the phone and turned to also thank Lana, Hallie’s English neighbor, who sat on the sofa with her small portable computer balanced on her lap. “I appreciate the use of your telephone.”

“Oh, that’s fine. You know where we are,” Lana said, glancing up at her, then quickly back at the screen.

Lettie’s thoughts raced ahead to the consultation tomorrow. “All right, then.” She headed to the screen door, careful not to let it slap against the frame. Yet as she strolled back to Hallie’s, she was uncomfortably aware that Lana had been sitting near enough to overhear her side of the frustrating conversation.
Ach, I hope not.

Lettie followed the narrow path and saw a cardinal’s red colors flutter past her. She hoped this trip wouldn’t turn out to be a dead end. She was emotionally spent and more than sorry for what she’d done to her family – nearly too ashamed to return home, although she longed to. Truly, she had no idea how to go about returning. Judah was a meek and mild-mannered man, but she wasn’t so
grossfiehlich –
bigheaded – as to think she could simply walk back into his life, and their children’s. Not after her unexplained absence.

There was another matter, too. The ministerial brethren would undoubtedly ask for Lettie’s repentance... which would likely have to be offered before the church membership. Oh, dear Judah would have to endure her confession, as would Adam and Grace and Mandy, since they’d already joined church. No, it would not be easy returning to Bird-in-Hand.

seven

Grace sat at Susan’s table with her eyes closed, waiting for the hospitable woman to finish making her strawberry slush. “It’s sure to perk you up,”
Susan said cheerfully from across the kitchen.

While she waited for Heather to return, Grace had managed to use the remote control on the key chain Heather had left behind on the front room table. She’d carried Heather’s bags, and her own, in from the trunk and upstairs to each of two guest bedrooms. It seemed so strange, as she thought of it, that Mamma had sat at this very table... and most likely slept in the bed where Grace would sleep tonight. And the more she considered her mother’s speedy departure yesterday, the more she suspected there must have been a reason to hurry up and leave.
Like she rushed off in the wee hours from home.

She raised her head to see Susan bringing small glasses of the icy fruit slush to the table. “Mmm, looks delicious.”

“Oh, you’ll enjoy this.” Susan set the glass before Grace, then pulled out a chair to the right of the head of the table. She glanced at the empty spot and mentioned how her deceased husband had always sat there. “I decided to keep it empty in his honor after he died.”

Grace thought this was one of the sweetest things she’d ever heard. “Did ya tell Mamma this?”

Susan smiled and reached for her own glass. “Oh jah. I’ll say your Mamma’s quite tenderhearted.”

“That she is.” Grace sipped the strawberry slush. “Your berries must be early this year.”

“They’re nearly done, in fact.”

“Ours back home aren’t quite ready yet,” she said, wondering where on earth Heather had disappeared to.

The simple kitchen was light and cheerful, reminding Grace of home in so many ways. The yellowed pine cabinets stood in a neat row above the scarred and worn counter below. Several pies were set out, cooling on the rack, their crusts crimped down evenly around the edges.

“Was Mamma sad while she was here?” Grace asked quietly.

“Mostly apprehensive, I’d say.”

Grace bowed her head. “I thought she might’ve been sad, too... missing her family and all.”

Susan reached across the table and touched her hand. “Oh, she
did
miss all of you... each and ev’ry one.”

How Grace wanted to repeat her earlier question, to know why Mamma had left the family who loved her to come here. But Susan seemed lost in thought. Grace fell silent yet again, beginning to worry about Heather’s absence.

As a girl, Lettie hadn’t wanted to play or talk to anyone after Cousin Hallie and her family left for Indiana. She’d talked if she had to, of course, to her sisters and to Mamm. But it was Hallie who’d always been her closest friend, at least till Naomi had married and the two of them became equally close. The winters had been excruciatingly long those first few years without Hallie. Lettie had missed embroidering and sewing and baking with her dearest cousin. There were times when she would think how nice it would be to go and visit her clear out in Nappanee.
Even then I must’ve been a wanderer at heart,
she thought as she made her way down the long hill from Lana’s house.

So, at nine and ten, Lettie had stayed put at home, except to attend school, helping Mamm with cooking and cleaning afternoons and Saturdays. She wasn’t much for gazing at the sky on a moonlit night and wondering if Cousin Hallie was looking up at the same black sky. She was more practical than that. Still, she’d never stopped thinking about how much more fun Hallie was having – more than she was.
“The grass ain’t any greener out yonder,”
Mamm had sometimes told her when she’d catch Lettie daydreaming or moping about losing her best cousin. Lettie had used up plenty of ballpoint pens, writing long letters and sending them to faraway Hallie.

It’s nice to be able to spend some time with her, even given the circumstances,
Lettie thought presently. She entered Hallie’s kitchen to find her cousin stirring a kettle of homemade vegetable beef soup. Hallie’s husband hadn’t minded one bit when the ministerial brethren there had agreed to let their women have gas ranges and ovens. Lettie smiled, remembering her own church’s lively debate on that issue some years ago.

Hallie looked up from the stove. “You must’ve found the house?”

She nodded. “You were right... Lana let me use the phone.”

“Mighty nice folk.”

“I hope you won’t mind if I need to stay around till tomorrow afternoon,” Lettie ventured, embarrassed despite their close relationship. “If I can get ahold of a driver to take me home then, that is.”

Hallie laughed. “Stay as long as ya like. I’ll just put you to work cookin’ and whatnot.”

“Denki, Hallie... if you’re sure ya don’t mind.”

“Well, now, I just said I didn’t.” Hallie stepped back from the stove to fan herself with the hem of her apron. “Ain’t like I see ya very often, jah?”

Lettie smiled and nodded, glad Hallie hadn’t pressed to know why she needed a telephone.
Maybe she thinks I was trying to call a driver.

“Ben’ll be in from the field shortly.” Hallie glanced her way. “But there’s a bit more time in case ya need to rest again.”

“No need,” she replied, wondering if Hallie thought she was all in due to illness. “I’ll give you a hand with supper.” Since Susan had been a stickler for cooking her meals alone, Lettie had a hankering to cook.

“Why don’t you make the salad.” Hallie reached up to open the cupboard and brought down a big wooden bowl. “And don’t be shy – make plenty. We’ll have extra mouths to feed tonight. Most of the field hands will be in for the meal.”

“Neighbors?” Lettie knew that Hallie and Ben’s sons were married.

“’Least three that I know of.”

She set to work chopping lettuce and cucumbers, peeled the skin off several tomatoes, then diced those. All the while she thought of Grace and Mandy, wondering if they helped each other in the kitchen or if Grace and Mamm were managing the meals. Lettie felt pained to think of her girls doing all the cooking without her.

When she finished chopping carrots, she sprinkled them into the salad and asked Hallie, “How old were you when you mar-
ried Ben?”

Hallie’s smile was priceless. “Seems like we’ve been together my whole life, really.”

“Were you twenty yet?” Lettie honestly didn’t remember, not having attended the wedding.

“Closer to eighteen.” Again, Hallie laughed softly. “We knew we were meant to be together... so we tied the knot right quick. Better to marry than to burn with passion.”

Lettie kept her attention on the salad dressing she was making – vinegar and oil, garlic cloves and onions, salt and pepper to taste – avoiding Hallie’s eyes.

“Lettie, I’ve been meaning to ask what you were doin’ over in Ohio,” Hallie said as she went to the refrigerator and pulled out her lime Jell-O salad.

“Oh, visiting.”

“Without Judah?”

“Jah,” she said softly, worried at the turn their conversation was taking. “Lambing season, ya know.”

Hallie nodded. “And, too, our menfolk aren’t usually much for traveling, ain’t so?”

“’Tis true.” She felt somewhat relieved. “I’ll set the table. How many places?”

“Twelve or so. Not sure. We’ll have plenty of plates and glasses ready, just in case.”

She moved about, hoping Hallie wouldn’t bring up Ohio again. Lettie certainly didn’t want to lie.
And I won’t, either.

At last, Ben and the others came tramping in and all lined up out in the mud room to wash. When Ben finished, Lettie was surprised to see him make a beeline to Hallie and plant a kiss on her cheek, then whisper something that made her cousin both blush and grin. He turned to say “hullo” to Lettie before sitting at the head of the table. Quiet as Ben was, he wasn’t shy about glancing toward Hallie as she dished up generous helpings of the thick, stewlike soup. Once she finally sat down, he reached over and put his big, callused hand on top of hers for the meal blessing, then kept it there for a moment even as he reached for his water glass with the other.

All through the meal, Lettie was taken by her cousins’ fondness for each other, their way of referring to each other as “love” and “dear,” so rare in the Amish community she knew. Was their ongoing closeness due to having grown up together? Or were they just very good friends, like she’d read of some fictional husbands and wives?

Whatever the reason, she could hardly keep from watching them.

Lettie felt drowsy and ready to head upstairs to bed as she sat in the kitchen with Hallie. They were having a second piece of peanut butter pie, although a much smaller slice than the first helping. Hallie had a talk on, and suddenly she was saying she had “something ever so important” to ask Lettie. “It’s something I heard from our neighbor Lana, up the way.” Hallie’s brown eyes were solemn. “Ach, I’m not even sure where to start.”

Lettie’s heart skidded to a halt. “Why not say it right out?”

“Well, ’cause I can’t see how it could be true.” Hallie lowered her head and shook it back and forth. “
Puh
... feel so odd mentioning it.”

“Hallie, what are ya talking ’bout?”

Her cousin raised her head and looked at her with worry-filled eyes. “Lana’s concerned for you, Lettie.”

“For me?”

Hallie drew a long breath. “Lana tried to be discreet, but when she stopped here to buy some eggs after supper, she mentioned something about your long-ago baby.”

Lettie’s toes curled against the linoleum beneath the table.
So Lana did overhear my conversation with Dr. Hackman’s receptionist.

“I’m ever so sorry to put that out there.” Hallie patted her chest lightly, as if she was having trouble getting enough air.

“No... no, you’re not to blame.” Lettie was ever so weary of the secret. She felt it was long past time to get it out in the open – every last bit.

Hallie’s face knit up into an awful frown. “I... I’m ever so confused.”

“Sure you are.” Lettie rose and walked the whole length of the kitchen, then turned slowly back to the table, where Hallie still sat. “I came here for this very purpose... to find the child I gave away as a young girl.”

“Ach, Lettie!” Hallie gasped, her eyes wide. “You can’t
mean it!”

“It’s quite true.” She pulled out the bench and sat again.

This won’t be easy....

Pulling a hankie from out of her sleeve, Hallie wiped her cheeks and brow. “Oh, goodness... oh, for pity’s sake,” she muttered.

“Goodness and pity have nothin’ to do with it.”

Hallie continued to lament. Then she surprised Lettie by saying, “Ach, and the father... it wasn’t that fella Samuel, was it? We heard plenty of things ’bout him.”

Lettie made no reply; she wanted to keep Samuel out of this conversation.

Hallie leaned forward into her hankie. “You poor, dear girl.” Now she was rocking back and forth so quickly Lettie feared she might teeter right out of her chair.

“I’m not a poor girl, Hallie. Please, pull yourself together.” She sighed. This was much harder than Lettie had ever thought. “All of this happened a long time ago, but I’m on a mission now... to right the wrongs of my past. To find my oldest daughter and tell her the truth ’bout me.”

“And your family? Do they know?”

Lettie made no answer to that. “Right now, I’m tellin’
you,
because I need to, cousin. Tomorrow, I’m seein’ the doctor who helped with my baby’s adoption.” She waited for Hallie to calm down before continuing. “I need to try and get this out, and keep myself in one piece, too.”

“A doctor round here?”

Lettie nodded slowly. She began to share with her cousin, practicing the words as she might say them to Judah – for the coming day when she would reveal the same heartbreaking tale to him. “Now, then, you must keep everything I’ve told you to yourself, not even whisper a word of it to Ben. ’Least, not till I can get home and talk to my husband.”

Hallie inhaled sharply. “You mean...”

“That’s right,” Lettie finally admitted. “Judah doesn’t know ’bout my first child.”

“How can that be?”

“Trust me, he knows
nothing
’bout her.”

Hallie blinked her eyes again and again. “A girl, you say?”

“Jah.” Lettie sighed, hoping she’d done the right thing in revealing all of this. Hallie was known to be a tongue-wagger. Even so, what was the point of denying the truth?

“I wish I’d lived closer to you back then. Maybe none of this would’ve happened.”

“You can’t know that. Besides, it’s time for me to move ahead and turn it all around for good.”
For God,
she thought, going on to explain further. “I thought I was in love, Hallie. And I was hardheaded, too. Wanted my way, no matter what anyone thought of my beau. So I disobeyed my parents and broke their hearts.” Lettie was quiet a moment. “It’s no wonder Mamm made me give the baby away.” The memories reeled in from the past, and she recalled every detail, regretting her sin anew.
Ah, but God used it to bring an innocent life into the world. A beautiful girl, so precious in her heavenly Father’s sight.

Hallie made a sad sound and leaned forward, her arms on the table. “Well, I hope you don’t believe that – what you just said.” She locked eyes with Lettie. “Because, my dear Lettie, that’s not why your Mamm would’ve insisted on you givin’ your baby away,” Hallie said quietly. “Don’t ya see? She made you do it out of love. For you... for your baby.”

How could her cousin possibly know what Mamm – or Dat – was thinking all those years ago?

“Surely it was out of care for her grandbaby,” Hallie repeated. “She wanted her to have the love of both a mother and a father. A home with two parents.”

Lettie didn’t know what to think. Minnie Keim had suggested the same thing, but Lettie saw things differently. Her parents had strongly disliked Samuel, for one, and they were also adamant about protecting her reputation and chance for marriage.
Not much concern for my baby in that...

“Whatever her reasons, you must forgive your mother, Lettie, as Jesus teaches us to do. Release her, because forgiveness is required of you... as a child of God.”

Hallie was right. Forgiving Mamm would be difficult, but Lettie must do it anyway.