His Love Endures Forever Read online

  Taking a deep breath, she started again.

  Dear Mom,

  I’m married. I’m happy. I’m pregnant. Don’t write me anymore.

  As a tear spilled down her cheek, she scrunched up this latest version and tossed it where the others rested, on the floor by the trash can. Then, for a few moments, she closed her eyes and pretended that things were different between her and her mother. She imagined her mom cuddling Joshua, loving him, and telling Danielle how proud of her she was. But the day-dream faded quickly. She didn’t want Vivian Kent anywhere near her baby. No one, no one, would ever be allowed to hurt him. Not if Danielle could help it.

  Levi had been at work for nearly four hours, and this was Danielle’s only mission for the day, to write her mother a letter. But the words just weren’t coming. As she’d expected, the restaurant had cut her hours—and Sue’s—so no work today. They had planned to have lunch and go shopping, but Sue had canceled to have lunch with a new guy she was seeing. Danielle didn’t fault her for that, but between the new man in Sue’s life and their reduced work hours, they were seeing less and less of each other.

  There was a knock at the door, and Danielle rose, happy for the interruption. “Martha!” she said with a smile as she eyed a bag of groceries. “Whatcha got there?” She pushed the door wide.

  “Food.” Martha kissed her on the cheek.

  “We have enough food, you know. We’re not starving.” She reached out to accept the bag of groceries that Martha handed her, following her through the house.

  Martha moved through the living room, her eyebrows narrowing into a frown. Then, without invitation, she shuffled across the wooden floor into the kitchen. Danielle followed, stopping at the kitchen threshold. She cringed, knowing what was coming.

  “Danielle, this place is a pigsty.” Martha slammed her hands to her hips. “I know this is how you kept your room at home, but you are a wife now, and soon to be a mother. I stayed quiet, up front, with you being a newlywed and all. But now . . . Girl, it’s seriously time to get your act together.”

  Danielle took a few steps forward. “What? It’s not that bad.”

  Martha squinted her eyes, crinkling her nose. “You’re kidding me, right? This place is a wreck.”

  “Well, it’s not your place, so don’t worry about it.” Danielle shifted her weight, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Look here, missy. There is a baby coming into this world, and babies need a clean place to live.”

  “Levi doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “Hogwash! Vera’s house is immaculate, and I guarantee that boy doesn’t like living like this. You’re just still on your honeymoon, and he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  Danielle pondered that for a few moments. Levi had asked her a week ago if she wanted him to help her clean the dishes . . .

  Martha walked around the kitchen, taking a closer inspection. “What do you do all day?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Sometimes I work in the afternoons, and I have these crazy nap-attacks, with the baby and all . . . and they’ve cut my hours, so I’m off again today. But I stay busy. Married life . . . Well, you know. You take care of your husband.” Danielle frowned, thinking over her daily routine. She’d read her magazines yesterday morning and painted her toenails. Sometimes she fell asleep on the couch listening to her iPod, if she’d remembered to charge it. Plus, she’d learned how to download movies onto her iPhone. She hadn’t mentioned that to Levi just yet. “You’ll be happy to hear that I make our bed every day.”

  Martha snorted. “Well, that takes a grand total of three minutes.”

  “Did you stop by just to criticize me, or is there some other reason for your visit?”

  Martha pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down. “I wanted to know what the letter from your mother said.” She nodded to the wadded-up pieces of paper by the garbage can. “And if you were writing her back.”

  Danielle didn’t sit down. She nodded to the letter on the table next to her pad and pen. “Go ahead and read it.”

  Martha picked up the letter, and Danielle bit her nail while she read it. Martha shook her head as she put it down. “Honey, I’m sorry. I’m sure you were hoping for some sort of apology or something.”

  “Nope. I don’t need anything from her. I don’t care what she does.”

  Martha cupped her chin in her hands, resting her elbows on the table. “Then why are you writing her back? And struggling with it?”

  “I’m not.” Danielle scooped up all the failed attempts and stuffed them in the garbage. “I thought about it. But there’s just no good way to tell your own mother that you hate her.”

  “You don’t hate her, Danielle.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Martha stared at Danielle in that all-knowing way that made Danielle want to yell at her, whether or not she was right. Danielle braced herself for a lecture about love, forgiveness, and, of course . . . God. But instead, Martha just slowly stood up and walked to Danielle. She gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek again.

  “You want me to stay? Help you clean up a little?”

  “Nah. I’ll get to it. Eventually,” she added with a smirk.

  “I sure hope so. You know that Arnold and I are here for you, right?” She smiled. “And we’re going to be the best grandparents on the planet. Everyone knows that.” She started toward the front door, Danielle on her heels. Martha turned around. “Vera ever come by here?”

  Danielle shook her head. “No.”

  “She will. Give her time.”

  Danielle grunted. “I’m tired of everyone saying that. I wish that she’d come around for Levi’s sake, but I don’t need her judging me. I’m just the bad Englisch girl that stole her baby boy away from the Amish world.”

  “You know, Danielle . . . if you’d see yourself differently, then others would too.” She pointed a red fingernail at Danielle. “Just food for thought, missy.” Then with a tender smile, she turned to leave.

  “Martha!” Danielle said, covering her own smile with her hand.

  Martha reached the bottom porch step and turned around. “What?”

  “Did you know that you have two large streaks of mud running down the back of your blouse?”

  Martha stiffened. “Good grief! Do I really?”

  Danielle laughed, which felt good.

  “That dog of Arnold’s! He almost tackled me to the ground this morning. Guess his paws were muddy.” She shook her head. “But Arnold loves that beast, so I tolerate the occasional tackling. He’s gonna cause me to break a hip or something.” She turned back around and headed to her car.

  Danielle had seen Martha with Dude enough to question who loved “the beast” more . . . Martha or Arnold.

  Danielle knew she was lucky to have them both in her life. People willing to accept her child as their “grandchild.”

  Thank You, Lord, for Martha and Arnold.

  Well, wasn’t that odd. The prayer seemed to come out of nowhere, and Danielle wasn’t sure what to make of it. At Levi’s insistence, they’d been praying together at night. Maybe some of it had rubbed off on Danielle.

  But whatever. She was thankful for Martha and Arnold.

  She glanced around the house and decided maybe Martha was right.

  At least cleaning the house will keep my mind off my mother . . .

  THROUGH MID-AUGUST, THE fields filled with wildflowers, and it was as if the sun never took a rest, shining brightly from early morning and staying with them until almost nine o’clock at night.

  Levi’s father and brother—and sometimes Arnold—had done a lot of repairs on the house. They’d replaced cracked windows, repaired the fence, and even put a new coat of paint on the outside of the house. Martha and Emily had come by a few times and helped Danielle with the cleaning. And thanks to Emily, Danielle had mastered the art of making homemade bread, much to her husband’s delight, and learned to make meatloaf, his ultimate favorite.

  Ironically, s
he and Levi lived almost exactly like the Amish did, and she’d learned to live without the luxuries she had before. But her life seemed pretty full. Things were wonderful between her and her new husband. The only thing that seemed to bother them both was their relationships with their mothers. Or lack of relationship. Danielle rarely talked about the void she felt in her life, but Levi mentioned his mother in passing quite often, and Danielle knew he missed her. So today she was going to make an effort to bring Levi and his mother closer.

  She knocked on the Detweilers’ door on a sunny Monday afternoon, carrying a pecan pie that Emily had showed her how to make. Danielle and Levi saw Vera every other Sunday since they still attended Amish worship, but the conversations were strained, and Danielle knew it was as much her fault as Vera’s. Danielle had thought about what Martha said—that if Danielle thought more highly of herself, others would too. So today she stood tall as she waited for Vera to answer the door.

  “Danielle.” Vera swiped her forearm across a sweaty forehead. “What are you doing here?”

  “I brought you a pie.” She pushed the glass dish a few inches in front of her, hoping Vera would open the door.

  “Today is Monday. Wash day.” Vera made the comment in a chipper voice, seemingly glad that she wasn’t going to have to invite Danielle in.

  “Oh yeah. I forgot.” She forced a smile. “Well, please, take the pie anyway. I made one for me and Levi too.” She waited until Vera slowly opened the screen door. Taking the pie, Vera nodded.

  “Danki, Danielle.”

  “You’re welcome.” She swallowed hard, then turned to go. Knowing it was important to Levi, she’d made her best effort. She was already in the yard when Vera called out to her. She turned around.

  “I need a break. Why don’t you come in and we’ll have a piece of this pie and some kaffi.”

  Danielle waddled back up the steps. That’s how she felt these days. At five months pregnant, she’d really ballooned up. Levi said she was glowing and beautiful, but she was pretty sure that in addition to the baby, she was just fat. And suddenly she was nervous about being alone with Vera. The woman was civil when they saw each other at church or some other gathering, but nothing changed the facts. Vera blamed Danielle for dragging Levi away from his people.

  Vera held the door open, and Danielle walked into the living room. All the windows were open and a cool breeze blew through the room. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been inside the Detweilers’ house, but it sure smelled good today. Like freshly baked bread. Danielle wondered if her pie would be acceptable.

  “Have a seat, and I’ll go cut us a piece of pie. Tea or coffee?” Vera wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t frowning either.

  “Tea, please.” Danielle glanced around the room, and the feel of family wrapped around her. She was taking in her surroundings when Betsy came bouncing down the stairs. The nine-year-old let out a small gasp when she entered the living room.

  “Danielle!” She ran to her side and plopped down on the couch. “You never come to our haus.” Betsy put a finger to her lips for a moment. “And we never go to your haus.”

  Danielle swallowed hard. “I brought a pie.”

  “What kind of pie?”

  “Pecan.”

  Betsy was quiet.

  “Do you like pecan pie?” Danielle shifted her weight and hoped that things might be less tense with Betsy in the room. Although, one could never be sure what might come out of her mouth.

  “Ya, I like pecan pie.” Betsy eyed Danielle’s stomach. Danielle had broken down and bought some maternity clothes a few weeks ago, and today she had on blue jeans with a stretch waist and a breezy yellow blouse. “You’re going to have a baby.”

  “Yes. His name is Joshua, and he’ll be here in four months.” Danielle smiled at the thought. “He’s kicking. Want to feel?” She picked up Betsy’s hand and placed it on her stomach. Betsy’s face lit up.

  “Oooh. I feel him.” Her hand was still on Danielle’s stomach when Vera returned with two pieces of pie.

  “Betsy, Danielle might not want you doing that.” Vera’s eyebrows drew together as she set Danielle’s piece on the table beside her. Betsy pulled back her hand.

  “It’s okay. I asked her if she wanted to feel the baby kicking.”

  Vera smiled. Barely. “Betsy, do you want pie?”

  “Nee,” the girl said. “I’m still full from lunch.”

  Vera walked back to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of tea.

  “Thank you.” Danielle took a bite of the pie, savoring the sweet crunch of the pecans in the juice, knowing she’d knocked it out of the park.

  Vera sat down in a rocking chair across from where Danielle and Betsy were sitting on the couch.

  Betsy stared at Danielle, and Danielle wondered what was coming. But Betsy was quiet.

  They were all quiet. Danielle was wishing she hadn’t come. “I forgot today was wash day.” Danielle smiled.

  “How do you wash clothes? Emily tells me you have no power there.” Vera kept her eyes on Danielle even as she took a bite of pie.

  “I usually go to Martha’s and use her washer and dryer.”

  “Of course.”

  Betsy still had her eyes on Danielle’s stomach, and Danielle shifted her weight uneasily, wishing Betsy would focus on something else. Vera had never mentioned Danielle’s pregnancy, but these days, there was no missing it. Levi had told his father that they were having a boy and naming him Joshua, so Danielle assumed that Vera knew it too.

  Betsy scooted a little closer to Danielle. “Will I be able to hold the baby when he gets here?”

  Danielle avoided Vera’s eyes. “Sure.” She smiled at Betsy.

  “Do you think he’ll weigh over nine pounds? Because then you might have to have a cesarean section.”

  “Betsy. Don’t say such things.” Vera shook her head.

  “Ach, it’s true, Mamm. Sometimes babies are breach, or they’re too big, and they have to be cut right out of the mother’s stomach.” Betsy’s eyes rounded as she spoke.

  “Ya, I know, Betsy. But . . .” Vera glanced at Danielle. “Sorry. Betsy always has something on her mind.”

  Danielle smiled, even though Vera’s cheeks were turning redder and redder. “It’s okay.” She turned to Betsy. “I’m hoping that I’ll be able to have the baby the natural way. The doctor said everything looks good so far.”

  Betsy moved on to another subject, pointing to Danielle’s flat silver sandals. “I like those.”

  “Thanks. Levi took me shopping last week for my birthday.”

  Betsy gasped. “Did you have cake?” She glanced back and forth between Danielle and Vera. “You have to have cake on your birthday.”

  “Yes, I did. We went to Martha and Arnold’s to celebrate.” She glanced at Vera, whose head was down.

  “How old are you?” Betsy scooted even closer and put a hand on Danielle’s leg.

  “I’m nineteen now.”

  “Plenty old enough to have kinner, I’d say.” Betsy gave a taut nod of her head, and Danielle watched Vera slowly close her eyes, then open them again.

  Danielle placed her empty plate on the coffee table, wondering if she should carry it to the kitchen.

  “Did you come in a car?” Betsy’s sweet face stared up at her.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I won’t ever get to have a car because we’re Amish.” Betsy frowned.

  “I—I know.” Danielle knew what Vera must be thinking— how Levi probably said the same thing before he was shackled and hauled off by the pregnant Englisch girl. Again, she was reminded about what Martha said. “Think better about yourself and others will too.”

  “Will baby Joshua sleep in his own bed? He has to have his own bed, you know.” Betsy rolled her eyes. “Otherwise my brother could roll over and squash him to death!”

  “Betsy . . .” Vera sighed. “Don’t you have something to do?”

  “Nee. Nothing.” She grinned, and Danielle could
n’t help but smile too.

  “No, we don’t have a crib or anything like that yet. But we’re saving our money, hoping to soon.” Danielle stood up. “Vera, I’ll let you get back to your washing. I just wanted to bring the pie and stop in to say hello.”

  Vera placed her half-eaten piece on the table beside the rocking chair. “Danki for the pie.” She walked Danielle to the door.

  “Okay, bye then.” Danielle gave a quick wave.

  Betsy wound around Vera until she was standing on the porch. “Bye, Danielle! Come back soon to see us! Mamm said she didn’t understand why you don’t ever come over!”

  Danielle locked eyes with Vera and stifled a smile. “Well, you and your mom are certainly welcome to come to our house anytime.” Danielle thought about how excited Levi would be if his family came to supper. “As a matter of fact, would you like to come for supper on Saturday?”

  Vera opened her mouth to speak, probably to decline, but Betsy started jumping up and down. “Ya! Ya!”

  “I—I suppose so,” Vera finally answered. “What time?”

  “Five o’clock.”

  “Gut. See you then.”

  “See you then,” Danielle repeated with a smile. But as she turned away and climbed into her car, she thought, What did I just do?

  Seventeen

  DANIELLE WALKED INTO MARTHA’S BEDROOM AND leaned over the bed. “I can’t believe this happened.” She eyed Martha’s broken foot protruding from beneath the quilt at the end of the bed.

  “I can. I’m lucky that dog didn’t kill me.” Martha rolled her eyes at Dude, who merely yawned from the floor and happily resumed sleeping. “Pull up a chair. I’m glad to see you. Katie Ann has been coming over and fussing over me like I’m an old woman. Arnold too. Both of them . . . fuss, fuss, fuss.” Martha shook her head, but Danielle knew that there probably wasn’t anything that Martha liked better than to be fussed over.

  “How long do you have to stay off your foot?” Danielle scooted a chair close to Martha’s bed and eased into it.

  “Until it doesn’t hurt anymore. And that could take forever.”

  Danielle straightened, then repositioned herself when she felt Joshua kicking. “Arnold said you fell down the porch steps.”