Charlotte took a seat with the other women at worship service, which was being held at Sadie and Kade Saunders’ house—actually, in their barn. After she said hello to the women nearby, she scanned the chairs facing their direction, where the men were seated. She had to look around the deacons and the bishop, seated in the middle, but she didn’t see Daniel. He’d called her last night to say that his mother had been admitted to the hospital because her blood pressure was high and that he’d try to call later, but Charlotte hadn’t heard from him again. Daniel’s father and sister also weren’t at church this morning.
She kept looking around, happy to see Lena farther down the same aisle as Charlotte, and Amos was with the men on the other side of the room. When she felt eyes on her, she made a slight turn to her left. Bishop Miller was staring at her. As their gazes met, he smiled, but Charlotte made a mental note to beeline home after the worship service. She loved the meal that was served afterward, but she’d skip it this time if it meant the bishop might try to pin her down about her future plans.
Charlotte reached into her purse and turned the volume on her cell phone to Mute, and she checked for a voice mail or message from Daniel. Still nothing. She’d left two messages yesterday, and she’d tried calling early this morning. Her stomach churned as she thought of scenarios. Is Eve’s condition critical? Is the baby at risk? Did the baby arrive early?
Charlotte had been down this road before, and she was almost sure that Daniel’s and Annie’s cell phones were dead. Daniel often forgot to charge his phone, and since their father didn’t approve of using them, she doubted a charger had traveled with them to the hospital. Usually, someone went to the coffee shop every couple of days to charge cell phones. Even Faye might be toting a dead phone.
Charlotte jumped when someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she twisted around to see Hannah sitting behind her.
“Have you talked to Daniel?” Hannah asked in a whisper.
Charlotte leaned closer to Hannah’s ear. “Not since yesterday. Eve was admitted into the hospital for high blood pressure, but I haven’t heard from him again.”
“Ya, I know. I was at the coffee shop late yesterday afternoon, and the owner—Sherry Winston—said a friend of hers was working at the hospital when Eve was admitted. I hope everything is okay.”
“Me too.” Charlotte was worried about Eve, but Andrea and Bella were on her mind too. Andrea had been sprawled out on the couch when Charlotte was ready to leave for church. Bella was sleeping in Charlotte’s bed. When it became late the night before, Andrea had asked if she could just lay Bella on Charlotte’s bed since the baby had slept there so well during her nap earlier in the day. So Charlotte had agreed.
But this morning, Charlotte had woken up Andrea before she left for church. Her sister huffed a little, then had shuffled to Charlotte’s bed and climbed in with Bella. Would they still be there when she got home? She wanted to tell Hannah about her time with Andrea and Bella, but the deacons and bishop were starting the service so Charlotte turned around.
Large portions of the worship service Charlotte didn’t understand since it was in Pennsylvania Deutsch, but the fellowship and closeness she felt with God made up for it. And Hannah and Lena were good about explaining things to her after the service.
She glanced at the bishop, remembering that she was going to skip the meal today. Then she looked back at Lena. She seemed thinner in the face and a little bit pale.
She tuned out the bishop’s opening remarks, closed her eyes, and prayed for Lena. Charlotte couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to her. Then she prayed for Eve. And Andrea and Bella.
Andrea carried Bella into the kitchen, grateful that her daughter was in a good mood this morning. As Andrea opened the refrigerator, she tried to recall when Charlotte said she’d be home from church. Did the service last three hours? That couldn’t be right. Who could sit in church for that long?
Andrea pulled out a half-empty carton of milk and found some Cheerios. She filled Bella’s bottle with the milk, knowing that she should have weaned Bella off a bottle a long time ago, but sometimes it was the only thing that calmed her. She poured some of the dry cereal on a plate, gave Bella the bottle, and carted her back to the living room.
While her daughter munched on Cheerios, Andrea walked from room to room, scoping out her sister’s small home, which took about half a minute. There was a living room, kitchen, one bedroom, a bathroom, and a small room in the back that looked like it could be a laundry room—assuming the house had electricity. She sighed and went back to the main room. Normally, she’d turn on the television for Bella while she ate breakfast. But no heat, no television, no lights. How can anyone live like this?
Andrea plopped down on the couch and sighed again. Her sister went to an Amish church, lived like those religious people, but yet . . . she wasn’t Amish, and she certainly didn’t dress like the Amish.
“Bella, your aunt Charlotte must live like this because of her Amish boyfriend.”
Her daughter looked up but quickly refocused on her breakfast.
Andrea glanced around the house. Ugh. She couldn’t live in a place like this. She found her cell phone and called Blake.
“Hey, baby.” She squeezed her eyes closed, preparing for him to lash out at her. He would threaten to throw her and Bella out. Again. Then they’d make up, and life would return to normal.
“Where’s my car?” Blake’s voice was frighteningly calm, but his words were clipped.
“I’m at my sister’s house. It got late, and she told me I should spend the night. I’m sorry. I’m feeding Bella some cereal, then I’ll leave. Maybe we can go eat some Mexican food when I get home.”
“I have your stuff packed. It’s by the front door. Is Bella okay?”
Andrea’s heart started to beat faster. “Baby, I said I’m sorry. I know I can make things right again. Where would Bella and I go?” Blake might be through with Andrea, and that was pretty much okay, but she and Bella needed a place to stay.
Andrea shook her head, having hoped her sister was better off than she was. Blake loved Bella, or at the least, he cared for her a lot. She’d need to play off of that. “Bella would miss you.”
Blake was silent.
“And I would miss you too,” Andrea said in as sweet a voice as she could muster.
“You’ve found your sister. You and Bella can stay with her.”
Andrea twisted her mouth back and forth, thinking. She’d never heard him this serious. They’d had fights before and he threatened to throw her out, but they’d always made up. “I can’t stay here. There’s no electricity or TV.”
“Charlotte seemed like a decent person. She’ll make sure you and Bella have a roof over your heads and food to eat. Kenny is on his way here to give me a ride. I found Charlotte’s address in all of your notes. I’ll bring your stuff. And you better not leave in my car. I’ll call the police and report it stolen.”
She blinked back tears. “Why are you doing this to us?” Her heart wasn’t exactly broken, but fear wrapped around her. “I don’t even know Charlotte. And how can you expect me and Bella to live in these conditions?”
Blake grunted, followed by a slight chuckle. “Guess you should have thought about all that before you stole my car, refused to answer my calls, and didn’t even come home. I’m done, Andy. Done.”
Andrea’s jaw dropped as she searched for something to say that would change his mind.
“See you in about an hour.”
Call Ended. She tossed her phone back in her purse. How many minutes did she have left? “What now, Bella?”
Her daughter stood up, walked to Andrea, and offered her a handful of cereal. “Momma . . .” Bella touched her cheek, and the gesture brought forth a wave of tears. She pulled Bella into her arms and cried.
“No cry, Momma,” Bella said, her cheek next to Andrea’s.
I’m a horrible mother. She wanted to be a better mother, a better person. But right now, she only had survival on her mind. What if Charlotte refused to let them stay with her? Surely, she won’t do that. Andrea held Bella closer.
“I love you, sweet pea. I’m gonna somehow make things better for us.”
Andrea kicked her feet up on Charlotte’s coffee table, sighed, and watched the minutes on her data plan click by as she checked Facebook and Twitter. She bought a phone card at Walmart once a month, however much time she could afford, but she usually ran out of minutes before the end of the month. And now she was almost out of battery power.
A cool breeze wafted through the screened window she’d opened earlier, followed by a rustling sound. Andrea set Bella on the floor with her plate of cereal, then walked to the window. An Amish woman was in the yard. With a shovel. From her profile the woman appeared to be in her twenties, maybe close to Andrea’s own age. The woman took several strides into the yard, then pivoted to her right like a soldier, before she began walking again. Then she crammed the shovel into the grass and bore down on it with one foot.
What the . . . ? Andrea wiped her eyes with a tissue and picked up Bella. She opened the wooden door, then pushed the screen wide and stepped onto the porch. The woman spun around and brought a hand to her chest, then hurriedly pulled up the shovel and started across the yard.
“Hey!” Andrea hustled down the porch steps. “Wait!”
The woman looked over her shoulder, waved, and then rushed away. A horse was tethered farther down the road. She called out again, but the woman only walked faster.
Andrea set Bella on the porch when she started to squirm. “Bella, what was that woman doing?”
Her daughter squatted down and reached for a ladybug.
“Don’t eat it. Just look at it.” Andrea kept her gaze on the woman until she was out of sight.
Even in Andrea’s world, people didn’t dig up other people’s yards. Unless they are looking for something important. She picked up Bella, went back into the house, and found a shovel she recalled seeing in the area that resembled a laundry room. She hauled it back through the living room and stopped to check the clock on the mantel. She didn’t know when Charlotte would be home, and Blake probably wouldn’t be here for over an hour.
Bella sat in the grass while Andrea tried to find the spot where the woman was attempting to dig. She’d barely started to look when a car barreled up the road. She let the shovel fall to the ground. She recognized Kenny’s car. A minute later, Blake opened the car door and stepped out. He must have driven a hundred miles an hour to get here that fast.
Without looking at her, he opened the trunk and pulled out Andrea’s big black suitcase and her checkered overnight bag that she’d had for as long as she could remember. She thought her second foster mother had given it to her. Andrea had loved the six months she’d spent with Lizette and her husband, Bob. She’d prayed every night that they would adopt her. But when Lizette got pregnant, things started to change, and without much warning Andrea was back at the children’s home where she’d started out.
She’d been only ten at the time, but she could still remember the way she felt when she realized that God didn’t help everyone. Only some people. And she, apparently, wasn’t worthy of His help or love.
But as Blake set a brown paper bag on the ground, his face was marked with loathing. One of her shoes peered over the top of the sack.
A suffocating sensation tightened her throat. It really is over.
Blake was in his car and leaving before Andrea could cross the yard to get to him, Kenny driving behind him in his car.
“Aren’t you going to say bye to Bella?” she asked in a whisper as they drove away, spinning gravel behind them as if they couldn’t leave fast enough. Good riddance.
But as tears threatened to spill, she sniffled and walked back to where Bella was sitting in the grass, pulling green blades and throwing them in the air. Andrea picked up the shovel, and without much effort, she located a patch of grass, slightly flattened where a shovel had been shoved into the dirt.
Daniel stood next to Annie as they both gazed upon their new sister. Bundled into a cocoon and donning a pink fitted cap on her head, the baby was in a crib at the hospital nursery. Daniel had been told that under normal circumstances, a newborn stayed in the room with the mother. Monitors beeped and other machines hummed and chimed as nurses wove in and out of the maze of tiny infants being cared for.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Annie laid a gentle hand on the white blanket that engulfed this tiny new life.
“Ya, she is.”
The baby opened her eyes and looked at Annie, who smiled. “I hope her eyes stay that dark shade of blue.”
Daniel tried to smile, but he was lost in a thick fog of emotion, a place where gratitude swirled and collided with fear. Sorting things out in his mind was giving him a headache, but even worse . . . a heartache.
“I need to call Charlotte, but my phone isn’t charged.” Daniel rubbed his forehead, stifling a yawn. “Have you heard from Jacob?”
Annie nodded. “Ya. I told him about everything.” She continued to touch the baby here and there, the tip of her finger caressing the little one’s cheek. “He knows his mother’s surgery is soon, and he wants to come home. But . . .” She blinked a few times, and Daniel knew that his sister was dealing with a lot of things right now too. “He doesn’t have the money to get a ticket home, and he’s worried about how his return will be received.”
“How much does he need?” Daniel wasn’t one to throw money at a problem without giving it some thought, but with everything going on in their lives, this seemed like an easy problem to tackle.
“I’m not sure.” Annie withdrew her hand when a nurse headed their way.
“I’ll get Jacob the money to come home,” he whispered as the nurse eased up to the crib.
“Thank you.” Annie smiled, then turned to the nurse. “Is she doing okay?”
A nurse who didn’t look much older than Annie said, “She is perfect. And probably a little hungry by now. Do you want to feed her?”
Annie’s face lit up. “Ya, I would.”
Daniel waited while Annie sat in a nearby chair, then the nurse handed their tiny sister to her, along with a bottle. “She should drink two or three ounces, and maybe try to burp her halfway through it.” The nurse smiled, pulled a chart from the side of the crib, scanned it, then put it back. “Holler if you need something.”
Annie nodded as she gently rocked and fed their new sister. It brought back memories of Daniel holding Annie when he was eight years old. The difference was, Daniel could still remember feeling awkward, afraid Annie might break. But she handled this new baby like a pro. Years of babysitting jobs, he assumed.
“I haven’t seen Aenti Faye in a while.” Daniel eyed the name tag hanging from the crib. Baby Byler.
“She went home to clean house and prepare supper. I offered to go with her, but she said I should stay here.” Annie glanced up at Daniel and cringed. “Can we maybe get the driver to stop at a burger place on the way home?”
Daniel didn’t have much of an appetite, but he nodded. “We can’t keep feeding Aenti Faye’s food to the pigs and chickens when she’s not looking.”
“It’s better than the alternative, death by pickled oysters.” Annie grinned, but as Daniel’s eyes drifted back to the name tag, so did Annie’s gaze, her smile fading. “She needs a name.”
“Is Daed still in the room with Mamm?”
Annie pulled the tiny bundle up on her shoulder and rubbed her back. “Ya, as far as I know.” Following a tiny burp from their sister, Annie said, “What are we going to do, Daniel?”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Mamm would want to make sure that Daed was eating, though. I’ll check on him before we leave.” Despite his best efforts, Daniel’s voice shook as he spoke.
“I haven’t heard of that thing Mamm has . . . eclampsia.” Annie blinked a few times, and her expression begged for comforting words from him. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
A heaviness centered in Daniel’s chest as he fought the growing lump in his throat. “Ya. She will be. Then she and Daed will choose a name.”
Annie’s eyes stayed locked with Daniel’s. “What if she doesn’t wake up from the coma?”
“She will.” She has to.