Andrea set Bella in the high chair at the café and then placed the bowl of chocolate cake and ice cream down for them to share. It felt good to have a little money to spend on her daughter. Bella had eaten almost an entire grilled cheese sandwich, so Andrea was happy to share a dessert with her.
The café had a Christmas tree in the corner, and Bing Crosby’s rendition of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” played in the background. Even at lunchtime, the smell of the morning’s breakfast offerings still lingered in the air.
Bella had a ring of chocolate around her mouth, and Andrea cautiously chose to submerse herself in joy. Today is a good day.
“What a beautiful little girl.” An older woman slowed her steps near them.
And for the second time recently, Andrea was proud—about her life, the changes she was making, and of the beautiful little munchkin beside her. “Thank you so much.”
The lady waved at Bella before she walked on to her table.
What had started out as a way to live off of her sister had turned into something Andrea couldn’t have predicted. Two boutiques had taken some of her jewelry on consignment, but another shop paid her outright for eight pairs of earrings, over a hundred dollars. Maybe she’d buy Bella a pair of new shoes at Walmart on her way back home.
Home. It felt good.
But as she fed Bella another bite of dessert, Blake’s thievery was under her skin in a big way. He had a lot of nerve coming into her sister’s house, going through the drawers, and leaving with the cash Charlotte had.
Andrea straightened and stopped chewing. Was she any different? Yes, she decided. She’d dug up money that belonged to a woman who had probably played a part in her brother’s death. And the money wasn’t even on Edna’s property. Hmm . . . does that make it Charlotte’s money?
Her sister clearly had no idea why anyone would be digging on the property, and Andrea had opted not to tell Charlotte that the digger was Edna. Would Edna be back, digging again when they weren’t around? Andrea doubted it, now that Edna knew Andrea was on to her. Guess it depends on how badly she wants the money.
Andrea let Bella finish up the ice cream with her hands in the bowl while Andrea pulled out her cell phone and typed.
You stole Charlotte’s money. We’re pressing charges, and you are going straight to jail, you piece of scum.
Her finger hovered over the Send button for a few seconds before she deleted the text. Maybe she would give Charlotte the five hundred dollars from the metal box, and when Andrea had sold enough jewelry, she’d pay back the rest that Blake stole. She liked this new person she was becoming. It was confusing since she’d been told she was bad her entire life. But something was changing, and it was because of Charlotte.
Andrea picked up a napkin, dipped it in water, then wiped the chocolate ring from Bella’s face. Sighing, she shook her head. “Bella, I have to fess up about the money, don’t I? I have to tell Charlotte I took it, right? That I dug it up?”
“More.” Smiling, Bella dipped a finger into the bowl and pulled back a small piece of cake.
Andrea leaned back in the chair, not sure she completely liked this new person. Five hundred dollars would buy a lot of stuff.
She started texting again, if for no other reason than she felt conflicted and confused.
You’re going to jail for stealing Charlotte’s money. We are pressing charges, you scumbag.
She deleted the text, again, and spent the next few minutes wondering how to handle the five hundred dollars, wondering if she was any better than Blake. But her finger got itchy, and she pounded out another text message to Blake, worse than all the others put together. And she hit Send.
Charlotte woke up that afternoon feeling better. And hungry. She shuffled across the living room in her socks toward the kitchen, opened a can of chicken noodle soup, and heated it on the stove top.
She’d almost finished the entire bowlful when she heard the grinding of gears and crunching of gravel that could only mean Big Red and its occupants were returning. Charlotte breathed a huge sigh of relief that they were home.
“Look, look, look!” Andrea walked into the kitchen toting four plastic bags from Walmart. “I got food, and I got Bella some new shoes. One of the shop owners paid me a little over a hundred dollars upfront! Two others took my jewelry on consignment.”
Bella ran to Charlotte, lifting her arms, so Charlotte heaved her into her lap, throwing any sickness bug to the wind. She smothered Bella in kisses. “I missed you.” Then she looked up at Andrea. “That is fantastic.”
Charlotte gave Bella a final kiss before she put her down, then stood to help her sister unload the bags. “Wow. This is a ton of stuff for a hundred dollars.” She eyed the five-pound package of hamburger meat, three packages of chicken, and salad fixings. There was also baby food, crackers, chips, sodas, a tub of butter, a gallon of milk, two boxes of cookies, and other things that had never seen the inside of Charlotte’s fridge—like a gallon of chocolate milk and a huge box of kiddie drinks, the type with the little straws in them.
“Oh, I know how to budget shop.” Andrea stashed the lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and cucumbers in the vegetable crisper.
“Andrea, you didn’t have to do this. I have some money in savings. I would have made sure we ate.” Charlotte put the chocolate milk in the fridge.
“I know. But we live here and I should contribute.” Andrea smiled as she pulled a bag of Hershey’s bars from one of the bags.
Charlotte had known this was a permanent arrangement long before Andrea just admitted to it, but she’d seen some significant changes in her sister, and that made her heart smile.
Daniel looked out the front window while Annie paced the living room holding the baby. His sister had ended up coming home alone while Aunt Faye stayed at the hospital to continue her chat with their father.
Daniel recognized the blue van, driven by the same Englisch man who had brought Annie home earlier. Inside was either Daed or Aunt Faye.
“This is not going to be a gut night.” Annie shook her head as she gently rocked Grace. “If it’s Daed, he’s going to be fit to be tied.” She stopped in the middle of the room. “And if it’s Aenti Faye . . . ach, well . . . she’s going to be fit to be tied too.”
Daniel had his money on Aunt Faye, so his heart raced when he saw their father step out of the car.
Annie gasped when she joined Daniel at the window. “I think this would be a gut time to go bathe Gracie.”
“Nee, nee. Don’t go yet. See if Daed even looks at the baby. Maybe he will feel different about things once he’s in his own surroundings.”
“That can come in time, Daniel. It’s a big enough step for Daed to be home, even if it’s just for one night.”
Their father slowed his step when he got to the porch, and for a second Daniel thought he might race back to the van. But Daed latched on to the handrail and swung his right leg up on the step, then his left, catering to his bad knee. He pushed the door open, and Daniel didn’t think he’d seen a more pitiful sight: an untamed beard, salt-and-pepper hair that was much too long, pale sunken cheeks, dark circles underneath tired eyes, and the same wrinkled clothes he’d had on earlier in the day. He looks broken.
“Can I prepare you a meal, Daed?” Annie held her position with the baby across the living room, and Daniel was glad. Pushing Grace on their father might not fare well right now after all. “Or maybe some kaffi?”
“Nee, but danki.” Daed shuffled across the floor, his shoulders slumped as if he carried the weight of the world on him. He didn’t even look at Annie. Or the baby.
Daniel held his position near Annie, but he glanced at Grace, now sleeping soundly. How could a man not want to see his own child? But he decided to heed Annie’s advice and not say anything about the baby. “Daed, how long will Aenti Faye be at the hospital?”
Their father stopped in the middle of the room, ran his hand through his beard, and locked eyes with Daniel. “Three days.” He spoke with a calm, almost eerie voice that Daniel might not have recognized if he didn’t see the man standing right in front of him.
Daniel looked at the baby again, then back at his father. “Okay. Gut to have you home for a few days.” He forced a smile.
“You know . . .” Daed ran his hand the length of his beard again. “I think your mamm moved her foot today.”
“Really?” Annie’s face lit up, but Daniel had read that such an action could just be a reflex.
Their father nodded. “Soon, she will be back to us.” He started to limp toward his bedroom.
“Daed!” Annie scurried toward him.
Don’t do it, Annie. Daniel braced himself.
“Don’t you want to see Grace? Maybe hold her?” Annie offered the baby, swaddled in a white blanket, to their father, as if she were holding a bag of flour out to him.
Daniel rubbed his chin as he held his breath. His eyes widened when their father stepped closer to Annie, and a fury flamed in his eyes that caused Daniel to take an instinctive step in their direction.
Daed’s bottom lip trembled as he stared at the child, and just when Daniel feared the older man was going to knock the baby from Annie’s arms, or something even worse, their father’s eyes filled with tears before he vanished into his bedroom.
Annie eased Grace back to her chest, holding her tightly, as her eyes began to water. “What are we going to do, Daniel?” She shifted her gaze to the baby, kissing her repeatedly on the face.
“I don’t know.” He gently took Grace from Annie, comforted by the baby’s powdery smell, easy breaths, and simplicity of a life so young.
Following a rough week at work, Charlotte was looking forward to spending some time with Lena on this beautiful Saturday morning. It was a nippy forty-three degrees when she pulled Big Red out of the driveway.
Andrea had been busy making earrings. Dianda from work had gifted Andrea with more beads and accessories left over from her own attempts at making jewelry awhile back. Charlotte offered to take Bella with her to see Amos and Lena, and Andrea had happily agreed. Seeing the changes in Andrea had been like watching a caterpillar blossom into a butterfly. Charlotte wished Ethan were around to witness the transformation of the sister he’d never known.
Amos answered the door, holding Buddy, and a few minutes later, Charlotte was sitting at the kitchen table with Bella in her lap. Lena came into the room in a wheelchair. It was unsettling to see her this way, but Charlotte had already heard that Lena was becoming less and less mobile. Her normally rosy cheeks were void of color, strands of gray hair had escaped the confines of the brown scarf on her head, and her hands were trembling.
“I don’t feel as bad as I look,” Lena said in a soft voice, lacking the jolly tone that was part of her nature.
“You don’t look that bad.” It was a small lie, something Charlotte had sworn off long ago, but she didn’t have the heart to agree with Lena. Forgive me, Lord.
“Hello, Bella.” Lena pointed to a tray in the middle of the table. “Can she have a cookie?”
Charlotte nodded as she took a cookie and handed it to Bella, kissing her on the cheek before she looked back at Lena. “This sweet girl is a cookie monster. She loves cookies, all kinds.”
“You’re a natural with kinner.” Lena smiled. “But I’m not surprised.”
Charlotte bit her bottom lip as she stroked Bella’s hair. “I—I don’t really think I’d be a gut mother. I mean, look at my history.”
Lena stared at Charlotte for a few seconds. “Your history doesn’t have to dictate whether or not you’re capable of being a gut mother. If anything, your upbringing has shown you the things that can go wrong in a family. You’ll work hard to bring your kinner up the right way, with love, compassion, and nurturing care. All qualities that come easily to you.” Lena’s eyes brightened. “I’m not supposed to tell, but I can’t stand it. I need to tell someone . . .” She took a deep breath. “Hannah is pregnant.”
Charlotte stifled a squeal. “That is wonderful!” Bella jumped when Charlotte’s voice rose in volume. “Now, there is someone who will be a gut mother.”
“Ya, she will be.” Lena squinted, studying Charlotte. “You don’t even realize that you have adopted some of our dialect. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard you pronounce gut in Deitsch. When are you going to marry Daniel and let God bless your relationship with lots of kinner? I know you were taking the baptismal classes after church awhile back. Are you still doing that?”
“I took the required amount right after I moved here, even though I was undecided about what I was going to do.”
Lena winked at Charlotte, a bit of the joyous Lena visible for a few brief seconds. “Daniel is a wonderful man.”
“He is.” Charlotte reached for one of the cookies and avoided Lena’s gaze, not wanting to say anything to upset her. But Charlotte still remained unsure about a lifelong commitment to Daniel, and to the Amish life. “I would have to be baptized before we could take our relationship to the next step.”
Lena tucked a few strands of hair underneath her scarf, slowly, as if buying time to think. “Do you want to convert, Charlotte? We think of you as one of us, but the bishop is not going to let this go on forever.”
“I know. He said something to Daniel a month or so ago, but it was right when Andrea had found me, right after my mother’s funeral, so I think the bishop agreed to give us some time.”
“Bishop Miller is a gut man too. Young, but fair. Talk to him if you have qualms about baptism that you aren’t comfortable sharing with Daniel or me.”
“I share everything with you, Lena. I’m just . . . scared.”
“Scared of what?”
Charlotte looked past Lena out the window and into a yard that was losing its luster in preparation for winter. “Failure,” she said in a whisper.
“We all fail, dear. But with baptism, you get a clean slate, and Jesus already paid for our sins, so His arms are wide open to lift us when we fall, to set us on the right path again. Not trying to live the way the Lord intended us to, now that’s failure.”
Charlotte let Lena’s words soak in. She nodded, then kissed Bella on the cheek. Her niece smiled, part of the cookie still in her mouth. “This little angel has certainly been a welcome surprise.”
“God wants to give you joy. Let Him.” Lena smiled.
Charlotte wondered if Lena would live long enough to meet Hannah’s child—her grandchild—or would Hannah’s baby never know this amazing woman? As she turned the thought over in her mind, she also mulled over her own situation, wondering if Lena was right, if Charlotte could be a good mother. Charlotte had certainly preached to Andrea about them both not being products of their childhoods. If it rang true for Andrea, then maybe it should for Charlotte too.
“I have a date tonight with Daniel. He made a really big deal about it. I’m picking him up in my truck, and he’s taking me to a fancy Italian place in Lancaster City, and I’m just wondering if—”
Lena brought her palms together and clapped lightly. “You think he’s going to propose!”
Charlotte felt her cheeks flush as she lifted one shoulder and dropped it. “Maybe.”
“And . . . ?”
Giggling, Bella clapped her hands together, mimicking Lena, even though she didn’t know what they were talking about, but it made Charlotte smile. Then she stared at Lena. How long would her mother here on earth be with them? “And . . . maybe.”
That’s the best Charlotte could do right now.
Daniel had just finished bathing when his cell phone rang in his bedroom. After rushing down the hall in a towel, he slid into his bedroom and answered it.
“Daniel Byler?”
“Ya.” His heart sunk. The last time the hospital had called, it was to tell them that his mother was in a coma. “What is it?”
“It’s about”—the woman paused—“it’s about your aunt.”
“Aenti Faye? What about her?”
“She is singing. Actually, it’s more like yodeling. We’ve asked her repeatedly to quiet down, but she tells us her tactics are necessary to wake up Mrs. Byler.” The woman huffed in exasperation. “Mr. Byler, we have rules in the hospital, especially in a wing where patients are critically ill.” She sighed. “And something doesn’t smell right in that room. I’m not going to say that your father didn’t need to go home to do a little grooming, but there is a rank smell in there, like mothballs and something pickled.”
Daniel put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.
“And that’s not all. In addition to your aunt’s yodeling and unusual smells, she has the television loud enough for people down the hall to hear it. That is, when she’s not singing or yodeling, of course.”
Daniel chuckled. “Sorry. I know Aenti Faye is, um . . . what’s the word?”
“I think eccentric might be the word you’re looking for, but we need her to leave or to adhere to hospital policy. We tried to call your father, but there isn’t an answer.”
“He’s resting, I think, but I’ll talk to Aenti Faye tomorrow.”
The nurse thanked him before they hung up, then Daniel hurried to get into his clothes, which Annie had ironed for him. Bless his sister. She had a full plate, especially without Aunt Faye at home. Daniel smiled as he pictured his aunt yodeling in the hospital. No one he knew yodeled, but he’d heard it told that in some Amish districts, yodeling was a fun pastime still practiced by the elders. Maybe in Aunt Faye’s Amish days, they’d yodeled. Who knew with her, though.
“Who was on the phone?” Annie peeked her head into his room. “Was it the hospital?”
“Ya, but everything is okay.” Daniel chuckled. “I guess. There seems to be a problem with the way Aunt Faye smells and she’s yodeling in Mamm’s hospital room.”
“Aw.” Annie grinned, but her eyes got moist. “She’s trying to wake up Mamm. I wonder if Mamm can hear her.”
Daniel had read as much as he could about comas. “Sometimes, I think people like Mamm hear a little, but I don’t really think the thought stays with them.”
“Ach, if anyone can stir up Mamm’s thoughts or wake her up, it’s Aenti Faye.” Annie left, smiling.
Daniel prayed for his mother to wake up, the way he did a dozen times a day. Then he grabbed his hat and headed downstairs to watch for Charlotte to arrive. He wanted to make this a great evening for her.