Daniel stepped off the bottom rung of the wooden frame, feeling grateful for the beautiful sunshine and cool breeze today. But thoughts of his mother and Charlotte comingled in his mind and left his brain feeling cloudy.
Every time he pictured his mother lying in the hospital bed, so still and lifeless, he said a prayer for the Lord to wake her up. Almost as upsetting was his father’s inability to leave the hospital or acknowledge his new daughter.
Then there was Charlotte. A woman who had transformed herself before his eyes, turning from a victim of abuse into someone who spent the bulk of her time caring for others. She’d tended to her own mother despite a horrid past associated with the woman. Charlotte had taken care of Lena in Houston during her chemo treatments. She’d allowed Jacob to stay with her when he’d run away to Houston. Charlotte had given Amos her little dog, Buddy, even though she loved the little fellow probably more than Amos did. And now she was taking care of a sister and niece she’d never known.
Selfishly, Daniel wondered if and when Charlotte was going to factor him into her life. They loved each other. He knew that. She was the woman for him, the person he wanted to be with forever, to have a family with. But each time they headed down a path that seemed more permanent, Charlotte backed off. What is she so afraid of? Happiness?
“Daniel, how are you holding up? How is your mother?”
He hadn’t seen Edna approaching to his left, but he recognized her scent, a sultry aroma that Daniel had once found intoxicating. “The same.” He kept walking, but Edna got in step with him.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” She took in a deep breath. “I think I probably said some things to you that I shouldn’t have, and I surely shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Daniel glanced around, glad to see no one was in listening distance. “Nee, you shouldn’t have. You know that I love Charlotte.”
“I know, I know.” She stopped, grabbed his arm. “But she isn’t right for you, Daniel. Surely you see that. Even if we can’t be together, I want you to be happy, and I don’t see how an Englisch woman, especially Charlotte, can make you happy.”
“It’s against the odds, but we will make a gut life together.” If Charlotte can ever realize that.
“I meant what I said about leaving John.” She started walking again when Daniel did.
“That’s your choice, I reckon.” No matter the situation, Daniel would hate to see Edna shunned. They walked quietly for a few moments.
“Charlotte’s sister is a bizarre woman. I know that the community has accepted Charlotte, even though she isn’t one of us.” Edna lifted her chin as she pressed her lips together. “But I don’t see that happening with her sister. I heard that she’s an untruthful person.”
Frowning, Daniel glanced at her. “This is the first time most people have met her. How can that rumor already be spreading?” It was a sad fact that gossip circulated in their community the same way as the outside world.
“I don’t know. I’m just telling you what I heard. There are reasons for us to stay detached from the Englisch. We are unequally yoked with them.”
Daniel had been hearing that term his entire life, but the truth was that without the Englisch tourism, most of the Amish folks wouldn’t be able to make a living. With less farmland and generations piling on top of generations, the need to work outside the home had become practically mandatory.
“We are all people”—he cut his eyes at Edna—“and there is good and bad in every person.” It was a statement that would have curled his grandparents’ toes, but Daniel’s people were changing along with the times. And part of the change was the realization that the Amish had just as many problems as the Englisch. Edna and John were proof of that. And so were Annie and Jacob, the star-crossed teenagers who couldn’t seem to figure out if they had a future together or not.
But who am I to judge?
Later that evening Jacob came calling, and while Annie welcomed his unannounced visit, she hadn’t been able to get little Grace to stop crying for an hour.
“Let me take her,” Aunt Faye said as Annie paced the living room. “You go spend time with your beau, and I’ll try to give her a bit more formula.” Aunt Faye smelled like mothballs and the liver and onions she’d been cooking all day, but Annie was grateful to have her staying on to help with the baby, and the cooking and cleaning.
“He’s not exactly my beau.” She eased Grace into her aunt’s arms as her baby sister cried. “There, there, Gracie.”
Aunt Faye cradled the baby in her arms, then started singing to her. Her high-pitched singing voice left much to be desired, so Annie wasn’t surprised when Grace started to cry harder.
“Maybe try the formula.” Annie forced a smile, then went outside to greet Jacob.
They sat on the porch steps beside each other.
“How’s your mamm?” Annie squinted against the sun’s glare as it met with the horizon.
“How is your mamm?” Jacob tipped his hat down a little, also blocking the sun’s rays.
“My mudder is the same.” Annie swallowed back a lump in her throat.
“I hear the baby crying inside.” Jacob stared straight ahead as he nervously tapped a foot.
“Ya. She’s been fussy. Aenti Faye is going to try to give her some formula.”
“A baby needs a momma.” He turned to Annie, his eyes glassy, drooping. “And I don’t really think that ever changes. We all need our mudder.”
Jacob hadn’t answered her when she asked how his mother was doing. “Jacob, what is going on?”
He sat quietly, as a muscle in his jaw quivered. “They didn’t get it all, the cancer.”
Annie brought a hand to her chest. “Ach, Jacob. Nee. I thought everything was going to be fine after the surgery.”
“I think we all did.” He paused, scratching his chin. “Everyone but Mamm. I felt like she’s known all along that the surgery wouldn’t be enough.”
“Why do you say that?”
Jacob shrugged. “Because she just didn’t seem all that surprised when the doctor told us. Hannah took it pretty hard, but mei daed actually cried. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry before.”
“But they’ll do more chemotherapy, right? They can get the rest of it, ya?”
Jacob shrugged again. “Maybe.”
Annie found Jacob’s hand and held it tightly. “Why is this happening to both of our mudders, at the same time like this?”
“I don’t know.”
They held hands, watching the sunset, as Annie fought not to question the Lord’s will.
“I love you, Annie.” Jacob squeezed her hand.
“I love you too, Jacob.” She had no idea what the future held, but for now, it seemed like loving each other was the glue keeping them both sane.
“Mamm is going to tell Charlotte tomorrow. She takes things real hard. Charlotte’s a gut Christian and we all love her, but she isn’t the best at accepting everything as God’s will.”
Nor am I, Annie thought, when it came to her mother. Annie had already tried to envision a life without her mom, and the vision never fully developed. Baby Grace needed a mother. God was going to fix this. Mamm will wake up.
“Ya, Charlotte will take it hard,” Annie finally said.
“Do you think she will ever convert and marry Daniel?” Jacob turned to face her, the lines in his forehead deepening. When did he get those?
“I hope so. Daniel loves her, and I believe she loves him just as much.”
“Now isn’t the time for them to be making those kinds of decisions.” He shook his head.
“Or”—Annie took a deep breath—“maybe it is the right time for them to get married, so they can be there for each other, comforting one another the way husbands and wives do.”
Annie recalled the one time she and Jacob had broken the rules, God’s rules, and shared in a way that only married people should. They’d sworn not to let it happen again, but right now, Annie could recall the intimacy she’d felt with Jacob, the way they’d seemed as one. What an escape it would be, to fall into his arms and forget about everything for a while.
“But maybe they’d be getting married so they could”—Jacob raised one shoulder, then lowered it—“you know . . . comfort each other.”
Annie stayed quiet. She was pretty sure they weren’t talking about Daniel and Charlotte anymore. Jacob leaned over and kissed her in a way that would only lead to a place they’d vowed not to visit, but Annie allowed herself to feel all the passion that his lips offered.
“Let’s take a walk.” Jacob rose, still holding her hand, and guided her to her feet.
“It’s almost dark.” Annie started down the porch steps with him.
“We won’t be gone long.”
Annie opened her mouth to protest but didn’t.
Charlotte knocked on Lena and Amos’s door ten days after she’d had her surgery. They would just be finishing up with morning devotions since this was an off Sunday for worship service. She’d spoken with Lena several times and visited her twice, but Charlotte hadn’t seen her since she’d gotten home from the hospital two days ago.
When Buddy started barking, Charlotte smiled. Giving her precious Chihuahua to Amos might have been the most unselfish thing she’d ever done. Amos had taken to the dog while Charlotte was staying with them, and at the time Jacob had left home. Lena and Amos were both feeling the void. But it warmed her heart when the screen door opened and Buddy ran to her. She scooped him up and scratched behind his ears.
“Hey, Buddy.” Charlotte let him give her a big, wet kiss on the cheek before she looked up at Amos. “Am I too early? Hannah left a message for me last night that you and Lena wanted to talk to me. Is everything okay?”
Amos took a step backward, motioning for Charlotte to come in. Lena was still in her nightclothes, covered by her robe, and sitting on the couch. She had a scarf pulled around her head instead of a prayer covering.
“Forgive my disheveled look this morning.” Lena touched the top of her head, then folded her hands in her lap. “Are you hungry? Hannah brought over two loaves of fresh bread. I’m still moving slowly.”
“You know I’m not going to turn down bread.” Charlotte sat on the couch beside Lena. “But first, I want to know what’s going on.”
Amos shuffled in his socks across the room, opened his bedroom door, and disappeared with Buddy on his heels.
“They didn’t get all of the cancer, Charlotte.” Lena smiled a little, then reached for Charlotte’s hand. “And I need for you to be strong right now.”
Charlotte’s stomach twisted, like she’d been punched in the gut. “What?”
“Mei maedel. The cancer had already spread when they did the mastectomy. The doctors had hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but alas . . .” Lena looked down for a few moments before she reconnected with Charlotte’s gaze. “All hope is not lost, but it isn’t gut either.”
Charlotte’s bottom lip trembled, and she wanted to be strong for Lena, but she couldn’t imagine her life without her in it. “Then you fight. You do everything the doctor says. If the chemo makes you sick again, Hannah and I can switch out taking care of you. I’ll—I’ll cook or have meals brought in or . . .” She took a long, deep breath. “I’ll do whatever you need me to. What should I do?” A tear trickled down Charlotte’s cheek.
Lena smiled. “Pray.”
“Of course. Of course I’ll be praying.”
“But, my sweet girl, you must also understand that whatever happens is God’s will.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but Lena raised a finger to silence her.
“Nee, Charlotte. I want you to listen to me. You tend to get angry with God if prayers aren’t answered the way you see fit. But that isn’t our way, and it shouldn’t be your way either.”
“This is so messed up,” Charlotte said through her tears, knowing she sounded like Andrea. “Just messed up. And there isn’t anything you can say that will make me not beg God to heal you completely.”
Lena chuckled. “I would never ask you not to pray to God for my well-being, but I will ask you to accept my destiny, either way.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. I thought for sure you were out of the woods.” She searched Lena’s eyes. “Did you already know when you went into surgery?” Charlotte recalled Lena’s instructions about not keeping her alive on machines.
“No one had told me the cancer was still there. They didn’t know. But in my heart, I had a feeling.”
Charlotte wiped her eyes. “So, what next? More chemo? Another surgery?”
“Nee. My body has put up a gut fight, but it’s had enough. I am going to try some alternative, holistic healing methods, along with homeopathy. I’ve joined a group, mostly Englisch, who have chosen this route as their treatment.”
“No.” Charlotte shook her head. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t try those things, too, but you need to utilize modern technology, Lena. I feel strongly that—”
“It’s not your decision.” Lena cut Charlotte off as she raised her chin. “I need you to accept my choice of treatment.”
“That’s not a treatment. Or it shouldn’t be considered as your exclusive treatment. It’s not enough.” Charlotte’s voice hitched as she sniffled. “Please, Lena.”
Lena adjusted the scarf on her head, letting go of Charlotte’s hand, which felt symbolically awful. “If God chooses to heal me, it won’t matter what regimen I choose. I’m putting my faith in Him, and only He knows what is best for me.”
Charlotte hung her head as she thought about Daniel’s mother being kept alive by machines in the hospital. “I’ll respect your wishes, Lena.” She straightened and forced a small smile. “But I really need you to be okay.”
“I am okay. Hannah and Jacob support my decision, even though I know that, like you, they’d prefer I utilize everything the doctors have to offer.” She shook her head. “I’m so tired.”
Charlotte glanced around the room and leaned her ear toward the kitchen. All quiet. “Where is Jacob?”
Lena rolled her eyes. “In bed. Apparently, life in the city has left him with some bad habits, like staying up late and sleeping in.” She twisted to face Charlotte and flinched. “Amos isn’t happy with me. That’s why he vanished to the bedroom. He doesn’t like to hear that I’ve chosen not to endure more treatments.”
Charlotte fought the urge to try to reason with Lena again, but as she winced again, just from a slight movement, Charlotte suspected maybe Lena had been downplaying her pain. Charlotte recalled the time Lena had spent with her in Houston and the toll the chemotherapy had taken on the woman.
“He loves you. That’s why he wants you to fight.”
Lena held on to Charlotte’s hand again, and she felt infused with strength, if only momentarily.
“I know. But the fight in me is over,” Lena said. “God has always been at the helm, and He will guide my way. Now, how about a buttered slice of bread?”
Charlotte had lost her appetite, but she wasn’t about to let Lena down. As they made their way to the kitchen, Charlotte asked, “Are you afraid of dying?”
Lena smiled, a genuine, real smile. “Ach, nee. Of course not. I will be sad to be separated from Amos, mei kinner, and you.” She shrugged. “But it’s just temporary.”
Charlotte nodded. And she thought about Andrea. “My sister doesn’t believe in heaven or hell. She believes in God but not an afterlife.”
Lena moved slowly as she took a loaf of bread from the stove top to the kitchen table, then she pulled a tub of butter from the refrigerator. She waited until they were both seated and said the blessing. “It’s like cake and icing.” Lena smiled, even though Charlotte wasn’t following. “One isn’t complete without the other. The cake is the foundation for the icing, such as believing in God is the foundation for heaven. Maybe Andrea can only imagine the icing, but she hasn’t had a taste of it, to understand and appreciate how it complements the cake.”
Lena had a way of turning most conversations into something about food. It was a quirky, loveable trait, but Charlotte was sure Andrea wouldn’t accept that explanation about heaven.
“I don’t think Andrea would understand that analogy.” Charlotte took a big bite of the bread, allowing the melted butter to rest on her tongue before she swallowed. “I’m not even sure I do.”
Lena swiped butter onto her own slice of bread. “You must show her heaven, give her a taste of it.”
“How can I do that?”
Lena smiled again. “Show her the icing.”
“How can I do that? I haven’t seen heaven.” Charlotte took another bite of warm bread.
“Then how do you know it exists?”
Charlotte stared at Lena, who was still slowly spreading butter on her piece of bread. “Because I just know. I feel it.”
Lena laid her knife down and picked up her slice of bread. “Then you must show her how to feel it too.”
How could anyone do that? She stared at the woman who had been more of a mother to her than anyone in her life. What am I going to do without you?