Plain Peace Page 14

  “Anna seems to care a great deal for you too. And ya, unfortunately you two got off on a bad foot with Isaac. But he will come around.”

  When? Jacob ran the back of his hand across his forehead. “I hope so.”

  “He will.” Marianne clasped her hands in her lap. “Now, tell me about your family. How is everyone doing? When the storm hit, everyone left so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to chat much with the ladies.”

  “I think things are getting better.” Jacob avoided Marianne’s eyes, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. His father wasn’t any better. If anything, he was worse.

  “Goodness me, child. You are dripping with sweat. You wait here. I’m going to go get you some iced tee and a cold rag.” Marianne stood up, then walked around the corner.

  Jacob couldn’t help looking behind him toward the stairs. He wished he could see Anna. He didn’t care what her face looked like.

  Anna held her breath, listening from the top of the staircase. She’d missed seeing Jacob this week, but hadn’t been able to get word to him about why. She fumbled with the compact mirror in her apron pocket, then pulled it out and held it close to her face. Ugh. No matter how many times she looked at the red, blistering bumps, they didn’t get any less hideous. Her right cheek was covered, her eye was swollen, and even her upper lip was affected. Mammi had taken her to the herbal doctor earlier in the week, and the ointment helped the itching, but her face still looked awful. No way she was going to show herself. She was sure she’d gotten the rash while working in the garden, and probably wiped sweat from her face, spreading it there. She had a tiny spot on her hand, but nothing like what was on her cheek.

  “Here you are.” Her grandmother was back in the living room. Jacob thanked her for the iced tea. Anna sat down at the top of the stairs, pulled her knees to her chest, and kept listening.

  Mammi asked Jacob how he liked his job, how they were all adjusting to the area, and if he would be seeking baptism in the fall.

  “I’m ready to be baptized,” he said. “But I . . . well . . . we just moved here, and . . .”

  “You want to be sure that this is where you want to settle.” Mammi’s soft voice was harder to hear. “That’s understandable.”

  “I feel strong in my faith and am ready to commit.”

  “That’s gut. So many times, when there is a tragedy, folks turn away from God. He is our strength, though, the One to count on during troubled times.”

  Anna wondered if Jacob’s mother, Cora, had shared with Mammi about her husband. According to Jacob, his father had little to do with the family these days because he wasn’t able to cope with Leah’s death. She leaned forward when she heard Jacob’s voice again.

  “It’s near the supper hour, so I should probably go.”

  “No rush, dear. I’m just planning to warm up some leftover soup.”

  From where she was sitting, Anna could see downstairs, out the living room window, and she slammed a hand to her chest when she saw Deacon Lantz’s buggy coming up the drive. Daadi was home. She silently prayed that he would be nice to Jacob. A few minutes later she heard the door open and her grandfather’s heavy boots crossing into the living room.

  “Jacob stopped by to check on Anna. Wasn’t that nice?” Mammi’s voice was overly cheerful, like she was trying to sell something. Anna hoped her daadi was in the mood for buying.

  Anna listened for a response, but her grandfather must have nodded. Or maybe not. Jacob spoke up next.

  “Bishop Byler, I was hoping I could talk to you about dating Anna. I know we made some bad choices, but—”

  “You did not take Anna where you said you would. In turn, Anna lied to us, saying she was going to Emma’s and not out with you. This was the first time Anna has lied to us, and that doesn’t bode well for you, Jacob Hostetler.”

  Anna held her breath again, knowing she had lied to her grandparents before that. Little white lies—but lies nonetheless. Like when her grandmother had knitted her some gloves. They were silly looking, but Anna had assured her that she loved them.

  But the lie about going to Emma’s, then going out with Jacob—she had to admit that was the worst lie she had ever told. She could almost feel the Lord frowning down on her, but she lost the thought when she heard Jacob’s voice.

  “Sir, my mother was having a problem at our haus, a problem with my little bruder. It was an emergency, and I had to go help. That’s why Anna and I didn’t make it to the singing.”

  Despite the situation, Anna could feel herself glowing. Jacob was standing up to her grandfather because he wanted to date her. She reached up and touched her cheek, knowing she shouldn’t. She was pretty sure Jacob would change his mind if he saw her right now.

  “Bishop Byler, I am trustworthy, and I won’t disappoint you again if you’ll let me court Anna properly.”

  Court. It was an old-fashioned word, and it melted Anna’s heart to hear Jacob use it. But the warmth didn’t last long.

  “Nee.” Daadi’s voice was gruff. “I don’t think so.”

  Anna gritted her teeth. Mammi, speak up.

  “Bishop Byler, respectfully, Anna is a grown woman.” Jacob’s voice had risen, and Anna squeezed her eyes closed, knowing this wasn’t the way to win her grandfather’s approval. Even though Jacob was right.

  “I am going to bathe now. The answer is no. Please give my best to your family.”

  Anna listened as her grandfather’s steps led to his bedroom and the door closed. She felt almost thankful—that could have gone a lot worse. But what was it going to take for her grandfather to see what a good person Jacob was?

  “Give him time,” Mammi was saying softly. “He fears for Anna—that’s what it is. I’ve told him he can’t keep her under his roof forever. The girl has to live her own life. I think he’ll see that eventually.”

  “Please tell Anna I came by to check on her.” Jacob paused and whispered something Anna couldn’t hear. A few moments later she heard the front door close behind him.

  “You can come downstairs now, Anna.”

  Anna cringed, then slowly made her way down the stairs. “How’d you know I was there?” she asked when she hit the landing.

  “I can smell that ointment you have on your face.”

  “Really?” She reached up and dabbed at one of the welts.

  “Quit touching it. Or it’s going to spread.” Mammi walked to the kitchen, and Anna followed. She sat down at the kitchen table as her grandmother pulled out a tub of leftover chicken soup from the refrigerator.

  “Daadi is going to have to change his mind about Jacob, because I am going to see him. Jacob is right. I’m a grown woman.”

  Mammi put the container on the counter, turned around and leaned back. “I don’t like that kind of talk.”

  “Mammi, you know I love Daadi, but he isn’t being fair. I don’t think it would matter who I dated. He just doesn’t want me to have my own life.”

  “That is why I don’t want you dating that boy.” Anna turned around to see her grandfather scooting into the kitchen in his socks. “He brings out this behavior. You didn’t use to talk like this.”

  “Behavior?” Anna shook her head. “Daadi, I’m not a child. And I know you’re scared for me to go out on my own, that something will happen to me. But you’ve raised me well, and you can trust me to make my own decisions.”

  “He isn’t gut enough for you, mei maedel.”

  Anna sighed. “Daadi, I love you. But you’re never going to think anyone is gut enough for me. You don’t even know Jacob.”

  “Neither do you.” Her grandfather took his seat at the head of the table.

  “I’m trying to get to know him. Please, Daadi, just give him a chance.” She grinned. “He’s been the only one brave enough to come face you.”

  Daadi frowned as he reached for his glass of tea. “He was disrespectful.”

  “That’s enough. No arguing at the supper table.” Mammi put the pot of soup on the table, and Anna got up to get t
he bread, jams, and chowchow. Then she pushed her grandmother’s bottle of cinnamon pills near her spot so she wouldn’t forget to take them. Mammi had said the pills were keeping her glucose under control and that she didn’t need the insulin anymore. Anna hoped that was true. She’d seen her testing her blood sugar just the other day.

  They were quiet during the meal. After Daadi pushed back his chair and left the room, her grandmother handed her an envelope. “Jacob left this for you.”

  “Danki, Mammi.” Anna started clearing the table as fast as she could.

  “I’ll clean up.” Her grandmother waved a hand in the air. “Go on with you. I know you’re anxious to read that letter.”

  Anna kissed her grandmother on the cheek, then darted upstairs. She’d barely closed her bedroom door when she tore open the envelope.

  Dear Anna,

  It’s been a long week not seeing you, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I overheard your grandmother talking to someone at worship service, and she said you aren’t feeling well. As I write this, I’m planning to go to your house to check on you and also to see your daadi. I’m hoping I can get him to change his mind about us seeing each other.

  Everything at my haus is better, except for mei daed. Eli made friends with a boy about his age—Johnnie King—and they have been running around together between chores. Mamm really likes your grandmother, and she also has another new friend named Lucy.

  Lucy? Anna blinked. That wasn’t a common name, especially in their community. Could he be referring to Lucy Turner? That seemed unlikely.

  Everyone is trying to get on with their lives. I don’t know what to do about Daed though. Can you maybe include some extra prayers for him? I’m mad at him a lot because he’s not doing right by his family, but I still pray for him every day.

  Anyway, I’m writing this in case I don’t get to see you, and I wanted you to know that I’m thinking about you. And our kisses.

  Hope to see you soon.

  Jacob

  Anna smiled, reread the letter, then put it in the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out the small compact mirror again and held it to her face. She was still a long way from being presentable. Just the same, she would make her deliveries next week. Her grandmother had been gracious to do it, but Anna could tell the long hours in the hot buggy were taking their toll. Mammi had come home exhausted, even though Anna had tried to take up the slack with the cooking and cleaning.

  She placed the mirror on the nightstand and lay back on the bed, smiling.

  Jacob misses me.

  Lucy slipped Benjamin’s shoes on him, then double-checked the diaper bag to make sure she had everything she’d need for an afternoon.

  “I don’t understand why I can’t babysit my own grandson. Think how much money you’d save if you let me keep him while you’re at work instead of taking him to that day care.” Mom flung herself on the couch and grunted. “And I can keep him this afternoon while you go play with your new friend.”

  Lucy picked up her son and the diaper bag. “We’ve had this conversation before, Mom.” She found her purse and keys. “Please don’t go anywhere while I’m gone. I’ll take you wherever you need to go when I get home.”

  “I’m a prisoner here.”

  “You are not a prisoner.” Lucy took a deep breath. “But you can’t be doing things like stealing strawberries from people’s gardens.”

  “You need to put some makeup on. You look awful.”

  Lucy closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then looked back at her mother. “I’m going to Cora’s house, and she doesn’t wear any makeup, so I think it’s okay for me not to. Besides, you know I don’t wear much makeup anymore.”

  “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. How’re you gonna find another man looking all pale and homely?”

  The last thing Lucy needed or wanted was another man. She had her hands full with her mother and Benjamin, and she didn’t feel very lovable these days anyway.

  “I’m going,” she said firmly and headed toward the front door. “And remember not to cook anything while I’m gone. There’s plenty of cold stuff in the fridge.”

  The only answer was a string of curses.

  Tears filled Lucy’s eyes as she closed the door behind her. This was not good for Benjamin, living in this environment. It wasn’t good for Lucy either, and it couldn’t be good for Mom. It wasn’t just Mom’s attitude. She had forgotten to turn the stove off twice this week, and who knew what would happen if she took it in her head to go wandering again. Lucy made a mental note to check back with those assisted-living facilities to see where her mother was on the waiting lists.

  Lucy worried about Mom as she buckled Benny into his car seat. But by the time she pulled into Cora’s driveway, she had made up her mind not to let her mother upset her. It had been a long time since someone invited her over for a visit, and Lucy wanted to enjoy it. She liked Cora. Cora saw Lucy the way Lucy wanted to see herself. Since Cora didn’t know her past, there was no judgment. Not yet, anyway.

  Cora met Lucy at the car and quickly opened the back door to unbuckle Benjamin from his car seat. “This little one brings a bright light wherever he goes.” She pulled him from the seat and set him down on the grass. “I made some chocolate chip cookies especially for you, Benjamin.” Cora latched onto his hand, then finally looked up at Lucy. “I’m so glad you both came. Eli and Abe have been looking forward to seeing Benjamin.”

  Lucy couldn’t help but smile as they climbed the steps and crossed the threshold. Cora’s house was always so warm and inviting. Today it was almost too warm, but Cora had the windows open, and Lucy had dressed herself and Benjamin in light clothing. She knew that wearing shorts would be offensive to Cora, so she’d chosen a pair of white Capri pants, a loose brown blouse, and sandals for herself. Benjamin wore a pair of short, striped overalls, and Cora was going on about how adorable he looked.

  Lucy got Benjamin settled in the middle of the living room floor, where Abe and Eli had already spread out toys. Then Cora motioned for Lucy to come to the kitchen—far enough from the children that they could talk privately, but close enough for Lucy to keep an eye on Benny.

  They sat down at the kitchen table. After a few minutes of small talk, they dove into a more serious conversation about what was heaviest on Lucy’s heart. Her mom.

  “I just don’t know what to do with her.” Lucy shook her head, then took a sip of coffee. “She’s unbearable to be around sometimes.” She paused, sighing. “And just mean.”

  “Has she always been like this?” Cora’s voice was sympathetic, and Lucy could see the concern in her expression.

  “No, not at all. Just since the stroke.” She shrugged. “And she’s my mother, so I do my best to take care of her. She and my father divorced when I was about Benjamin’s age, so Mom raised me by herself. And we weren’t well off at all, but I never wanted for anything.” She blew on her coffee, then took another sip. “But I’m hoping to get her into a nice care facility soon. She’s on several waiting lists.”

  She let out a deep breath and took a sip of her coffee. It felt good to have someone to talk to—about some things, anyway. It would be a long time before Lucy shared the story of Benjamin’s father and her role in destroying Ivan’s marriage.

  “I can understand how you want to take care of her, but it’s a shame that the stroke left her in such a bad way.” Cora glanced into the living room. “How is she with Benjamin?”

  “Oh, she’s crazy about Benjamin and sweet to him, but she talks so ugly to me in front of him. It’s not a good environment for him. And of course I don’t trust her to watch Benjamin alone. And I’m getting worried about leaving her in the house by herself.”

  Cora leaned back against her chair, biting her bottom lip for a few moments. “Are there medications that can help her?”

  Lucy shrugged. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember her being on anything for her temperament when she was at the last care facility.”

  As soon as
the words were out of her mouth, Lucy wished she hadn’t said them. And Cora responded just as Lucy expected. “Oh. What happened to that arrangement?”

  Lucy swallowed hard. “She, uh . . . she assaulted another resident, so they basically threw her out.”

  Cora covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes round.

  “It was awful. I got a call while I was at work that Mom had words with another woman.” Lucy shook her head. “And then she punched her in the face.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “So she can’t go back there. But I’m going to have to do something—if not for my sake, for Benjamin’s.”

  After a bit more conversation, they both admitted that they didn’t know what the answer to Lucy’s problem was, so Cora moved on to what was heaviest on her heart. Her husband.

  Lucy lent a sympathetic ear, thinking how much worse Cora’s problems were than her own and marveling that she kept such a cheerful disposition. Cora’s daughter had died, and her husband had mentally checked out, blaming himself. Lucy wished there was something she could do to ease her new friend’s pain.

  As Cora went on talking, Lucy looked at the woman across the table from her. An Amish woman with no makeup, all the traditional clothing, and a faith in God stronger than anything Lucy would probably ever know. It was an unlikely friendship, and Lucy felt a mixture of joy and regret. Once Cora found out who Lucy really was, the friendship would surely be over.

  “I would really like for you to meet my friend Marianne. She’s the bishop’s wife. I think I told you about her.” Cora smiled. “Such a lovely, fun person. Can you go with me to her house for a visit next week?”

  Lucy sighed. Her friendship with Cora was going to end sooner than she thought. But why avoid the inevitable? Cora was a good person. Lucy wasn’t. It was a simple fact, and no matter how normal Lucy felt around Cora, their friendship couldn’t last.