Savannah
My, I certainly went on and on with that story, didn’t I?” Jane stood. “I hope everyone stayed interested.”
“It was captivating,” Betty said.
“Absolutely,” Phyllis added.
I agreed. Why hadn’t anyone told me about Emma Fischer when I was younger? She was a woman who had truly lost everything, far more than I had. My heart ached for her, even though she’d lived over a hundred and fifty years in the past.
I found it fascinating that her mother was a midwife—and Emma assisted her. That was very much like my mother and me. Besides all of Emma’s losses, what was also heartbreaking was that the Potawatomi people had lived in the area before my ancestors ever arrived. I’d heard of the Indian Removal Act, but I’d always thought it had applied to North Carolina and other eastern states. Not Indiana.
“I’ve kept you all too long,” Jane said. “Here it is, after four on a dark winter’s night.”
“We’ll help clean up.” Mammi stood too.
“Oh no.” Jane started toward the refrigerator. “You, Savannah, and Wanda head over to Arleta’s, just in case she could use the casserole for their supper.”
I nodded. “Let’s grab our things and get going.”
“Here’s the quilt too,” she said, handing me both a pan and a parcel. “Make sure she knows it’s from the Plain Patterns quilters. We made it last year, before Arleta joined us.”
I assured her I would.
Once we’d climbed into the pickup, Wanda asked, “Could you drop me off at home first? I don’t want Tommy to wonder where I am.”
“Sure,” I answered as I plugged in my phone. Of course she shouldn’t go out to Arleta’s with us, not with Tommy being questioned about Miriam’s disappearance. That would be awkward.
When I pulled into Ervin’s driveway, the first thing I noticed was Tommy’s Jeep. Then I saw him carrying Mason, dressed in a puffy coat and boots, down the back steps of the farmhouse.
“Ach, I’ve almost missed him.” Wanda opened the door of the pickup. “Denki. I’ll leave a message if I can go to the next quilting circle.”
As we called out good-byes, Wanda made her way toward Tommy and Mason. Tommy gave his mother a smile and then looked beyond her to the pickup. He smiled again and waved, without letting go of Mason.
Both Mammi and I waved back. As I pulled out of the driveway, Mammi sighed. “I can’t believe that Tommy could be involved in Miriam’s disappearance.”
“I sure hope he isn’t,” I responded.
Mammi spoke softly. “I would only say this to you.” She glanced at me, a furtive expression on her face, and dropped her voice even more. “But I can’t help but wonder where Kenny Miller is.”
“I’m guessing Deputy Rogers is wondering that too and looking into it.”
“I certainly hope so,” Mammi said. “I don’t want Tommy to be held responsible for something he didn’t do.”
“Have you heard people talk about Kenny?” I asked.
Mammi nodded. “I don’t know if the talk is true or not, but I think there’s probably reason to be suspicious of Kenny.”
“What about of Tommy?”
Mammi sighed. “I’m not saying Tommy is without fault—none of us are—but I don’t believe he would do anything to harm Miriam.”
“What if he thought he was helping her?”
Mammi pursed her lips. “I don’t think he would help her by causing her to disappear. I’m sure he has more common sense than that.”
I drove on in silence, my thoughts drifting back to Ryan. He’d certainly surprised me by his behavior—not only ditching me at the last minute but also not paying when he said he would. I thought about calling his mom about the credit card problem but decided not to. I didn’t want her to feel responsible.
The sky darkened as we drove, and a few more snowflakes fell. It appeared another storm was on the way. Hopefully, it would wait until we were home.
As I drove, my phone rang. I glanced at it as I drove, hoping it wasn’t another vendor. It wasn’t. It was Uncle Seth’s number. I handed it to Mammi. “Would you answer it? Just hit the green button.”
She fumbled as she grabbed the phone, then recovered and took off her glove to answer it.
“It’s me,” she said, loudly. “Dorothy.”
Uncle Seth was speaking as loudly as she was. “I’m still sick.” That probably meant I could wait until Friday to get a rental. I was grateful for the use of his pickup. “Could you and Savannah stop by the store?” he asked. “I need tissues, more cough medicine, and lozenges.”
“Jah, we’ll do that,” Mammi said. “How are you doing for food?”
“I still have some of your soup,” Uncle Seth answered.
“We’ll stop by in about an hour,” Mammi said.
“See you then.” Uncle Seth ended the call, and Mammi dropped my phone, like a hot potato, back on the seat between us.
A few minutes later, I turned down the lane to the Wenger farm. As I parked the truck, Vernon stepped out the back door in his coat and boots, clapping his gloved hands together. When he saw me, he frowned. I opened the door. “I have a casserole from Jane Berger.”
“All right,” he said. “Go on in the house. Arleta is resting on the couch.” That was good to hear.
Mammi climbed down out of the passenger side before I could help her. I did manage to loop my arm through hers, carrying both the casserole and the parcel in my other hand. I had her go up the steps first so I could catch her if she slipped.
When she reached the door, she opened it without knocking and stepped onto the mud porch and then into the kitchen. “Arleta,” she called out. “It’s Dorothy and Savannah. We have a casserole that Jane sent. And a baby quilt.”
“Come on in!” Arleta’s voice sounded more animated than I’d ever heard it. She sounded truly happy that Mammi had come to visit.
I put the casserole on the counter and followed Mammi into the living room.
Arleta sat on the couch, nursing the baby. I stopped myself from shaking my head. Vernon believed nursing a newborn was “resting.” True, at least Arleta had a chance to sit down, but it’s not as if she wasn’t doing anything.
“Take your coats off,” Arleta said. “And how about some tea?”
“Oh, we don’t want to wear you out,” Mammi said.
“Vernon will be doing the chores for the next couple of hours. And since Jane sent a casserole, I don’t need to make supper.” Her eyes lit up a little. “Now is the perfect time.”
“All right,” Mammi said, slipping out of her coat, which I took. But before I left, I placed the parcel beside Arleta. “This is from Jane and the Plain Patterns quilters.”
“Would you open it?”
I unwrapped the package and then unfolded the quilt, a simple nine-patch pattern made out of shades of pink and red. Arleta put her free hand to her neck, just above the baby’s head. “It’s so lovely.” She blinked quickly, as if fighting back tears.
I placed the quilt beside her, and she stroked the fabric as she continued to nurse the baby.
Touched by her display of emotion, I took in the beauty of the scene. A mother with a new baby and a gift of love from a caring community of women. Mammi often said that good works praised the Lord, which the pink quilt certainly did.
My voice was raw as I said, “I’ll put the kettle on.” I headed back to the kitchen. After hanging our coats in the mudroom, filling the kettle, and starting the flame, I stepped back into the living room.
Mammi had the baby up against her shoulder and was burping her. The quilt was now spread across Arleta’s lap. “My milk came in this afternoon,” she said to me.
“Great. How is everything going?”
“Have you heard anything about Miriam?”
She didn’t answer me directly and kept her eyes on the quilt as she spoke. “Deputy Rogers said he would come out in person if he found out anything so we don’t have to check the messages every hour.” She folded her hands over the pink squares.
Mammi shifted the baby to her lap. The little one, with piercing dark eyes, met Mammi’s gaze. “What have you named her?” Mammi asked.
“Ruthie Mae,” Arleta answered. “After Vernon’s grandmother. We’ll just call her Ruthie, though.”
“Lovely.” Mammi smiled at the baby.
Relieved the baby finally had a name, I sat down on one of the hard-back chairs. Arleta seemed like a different person with Mammi than with just me. If I’d only known, I would have dragged Mammi to Ruthie’s birth.
“I know this is probably hard to talk about.” Mammi turned her head away from the baby and toward Arleta. “Or even think about. But do you have any idea where Miriam might have gone?”
Arleta wrinkled her nose.
“Would she have gone back to Newbury Township?”
“I don’t think so,” Arleta said.
“Have you contacted her relatives up there to ask?”
She nodded. “Vernon left a message for them. They called back and said she isn’t up there.”
“Where else do you have relatives?”
“She wouldn’t have gone to my sisters. She doesn’t know them.”
“Any other relatives?”
“There are some around Gary, Indiana.”
I hadn’t heard of Amish in that area. “Isn’t that close to Chicago?”
I asked, “Are they Amish?”
She shook her head. “Not anymore.”
“Does Miriam know them?”
“She’s met them. It’s Miriam’s aunt, on her father’s side. She is quite a bit younger than he was. She married a Mennonite man a few years ago. Vernon called them too but hasn’t heard back, which isn’t surprising. I’m not even sure I still have the right number, honestly. They’ve moved around some.”
I didn’t know much about Gary except that it was definitely part of the Rust Belt, with a dwindling population, few jobs, and lots of empty houses.
“Do you think she left on her own or that she was forced?” I asked.
Arleta shrugged her shoulders.
I spoke slowly, dreading the answer. “Does Deputy Rogers have evidence that there’s foul play?”
She shook her head. “Not that I know of, but he seems suspicious of Tommy.”
The teakettle began to whistle, and I stepped back into the kitchen. Deputy Rogers did seem suspicious. But were his concerns based on the past or the present?
As I opened the cupboard next to the sink, looking for the tea, Joshua ran down the side yard toward the barn. Had someone dropped him off on the road, and he’d run through the field?
I found the tea, placed the bags in the teapot, and filled it with water. Then I pulled three mugs from the cupboard.
Mammi and Arleta’s voices continued in the other room.
“Did you see Jane’s column in the paper?” Arleta asked.
“Not yet,” Mammi answered.
“It’s there, on the table.”
There was a pause and then Arleta added, “She wrote that one for me. It means a lot.”
“Jah,” Mammi said. “I remember her telling the stories during our quilting circle.” There was another pause and then Mammi said, “She started a new one. This one is about a woman named Emma Fischer from the 1840s.”
“Ach,” Arleta said. “I wish I could be there to hear it.”
I stepped to the kitchen window again. Joshua hadn’t gone to the barn. He was still in the side yard, out of sight of Vernon, with his back toward me, texting on a smartphone. I froze, not wanting any movement to alert him I was there. Tommy was right. Joshua did have a phone. Should I tell Deputy Rogers?
I raised to my tiptoes and squinted as I peered out the window, but I couldn’t read his screen. Should I tell Arleta and Vernon? Should someone be reading his texts?
“Savannah?” Mammi called out.
I stepped away from the window, hoping Joshua couldn’t hear our voices.
“How is the tea coming along?” Mammi asked from the living room.
I stepped to the doorway. “It’s almost done.”
Mammi still had the baby on her lap, but the paper was beside her.
“I’ll help.” Arleta started to stand.
“No,” I said. “Please sit.”
Five minutes later, I delivered tea to Arleta and put Mammi’s on the table. Then I took the baby. I also scooped up the newspaper and retreated to my chair.
With Ruthie in one arm and the paper in the other, I read Jane’s article. It was all about the history of Nappanee. She wrote well, with clarity and zest. It wasn’t as interesting as the story she started today, but then again, it was only a column. I admired the woman even more.
The baby began to fuss, and I put the paper down and transferred her to my shoulder. “Arleta,” I said, “does Miriam have a cell phone?”
“Nee,” she said.
“What about Joshua?”
“He doesn’t either. They don’t have money to pay for those things. The deputy already asked about that.”
I didn’t say anything more. I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I confront Joshua? Or let Deputy Rogers know that the boy had lied to him? I wasn’t sure if it would do more harm than good to tell Arleta and Vernon.
We stayed for about a half hour, and then Mammi said we needed to stop by the store on the way home for Uncle Seth. “I’ll start your oven and put the casserole in,” she said. “It’s lemon chicken and rice, with broccoli.”
It sounded fairly healthy, knowing Jane.
I started toward Arleta with Ruthie, who was fast asleep.
“Put her in the bassinet,” Arleta said. “She’ll sleep for a while.”
I did as she instructed and then followed Arleta into the kitchen. As she told Mammi good-bye, I couldn’t help but notice again how much she liked my grandmother. She gave me a quick farewell.
Once we had our coats on, I went down the steps first and encouraged Mammi to take her time. The last thing we needed was a broken hip. Then I held her arm as we made our way to the pickup.
We reached the pickup, and I held the passenger door for Mammi. As I closed it, Joshua came out of the barn.
“Hey, could I talk with you?” I asked.
His eyes widened, and he looked quickly in both directions.
“I just need to start the pickup so it warms up for my grandmother.”
He still looked like he wanted to flee, and I expected him to as I turned the key. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Mammi.
When I climbed from the cab, Joshua was still there. I motioned my head toward the side of the barn. He followed me.
“I saw you using your phone,” I said. “I was in the kitchen.”
Even in the darkness, I could see his face reddening.
“Your mom said you don’t have a phone and neither does Miriam. But I know you do, and others have guessed you do. How else could you have arranged for a ride to pick you up on New Year’s Eve?”
He gave me a blank stare.
“Everyone but your parents has figured out that Miriam has a phone too. How else would she be arranging for rides?”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t have a phone. We borrowed one. We don’t own it.” He patted his pocket. “I have it now.”
“Who did you borrow it from?”
He looked down at the snow-covered ground. “I can’t say.”
“Joshua, your sister is missing. You need to tell me—or someone—what’s going on. You need to at least be honest with the deputy, especially if you’re not going to be with your parents.”
He lifted his head but didn’t meet my gaze. “Miriam’s fine.”
“How do you know?”
He patted his pocket again. “She called me from a landline. She’s with relatives. An aunt on my Dat’s side.”
“In Newbury Township?”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Listen, Miriam hates it here. I don’t blame her for leaving. She’s eighteen. An adult. She’s fine.”
I exhaled, sending a plume of frost into the air.
“Would you give me your phone number?”
He shook his head.
Not sure what to do, I dug in my purse for a piece of paper and then wrote my number on it. “Call me if Miriam needs help. I’ll go get her, no questions asked.”
He took the paper and shoved it into his pocket.
I continued. “And call me if you need help. Or if your mom or Ruthie does.”
He inhaled sharply as Vernon barked, “Joshua!”
“Gotta go,” he said.
I stepped toward the pickup. “Thank you for talking.”
He darted around the corner without answering me.
An hour later, after going by the store and then Uncle Seth’s again, we finally reached the house just as more snow started to fall. I hoped it wouldn’t be another doozy of a storm. We hurried inside and warmed up soup for our supper.
By nine o’clock, I was huddled in my bed, in my coat again, trying to get warm. Why had I come to Indiana?
During the day, when I was with Mammi, life seemed bearable. But at night, I felt overcome with sadness.
Feelings of abandonment swamped me. As stupid as it sounded, I had felt abandoned when Mom died. I needed her as much at seventeen as I ever had. Probably more. Intellectually, I knew she hadn’t chosen to die. But emotionally, I blamed her for leaving me.
I felt abandoned again, this time by Ryan, and at night I couldn’t hold back the tears. It was as if Mom’s death had just happened. As if I was mourning her again, along with being rejected by Ryan. Waves of anger accompanied my grief. How could Ryan do this to me? Especially when he knew how vulnerable I was.
During the quiet stillness of the night, I thought about him far too much, until it felt as if he were filling my entire head. I went over our relationship, detail by detail. What had I missed? Yes, he could be moody at times. And we certainly had different financial values. He, at times, seemed influenced by other people’s opinions—not when it came to work, but when it came to having the latest and the best. If he read a good review of a restaurant, he had to try it. The same with the latest piece of technology. Or the newest running shoes. Or whatever. At the time, I thought it smart how aware he was of trends, but now I wondered if it was a sign of insecurity. Did that insecurity drive him back to Amber? Into the arms of a strong, take-charge woman? Maybe that was what he needed, instead of me.
Maybe I was far from being a strong, independent woman. As I dissected our relationship, I also realized how engrossed I’d become in Ryan. I had only a few other friends, which was painfully obvious by the lack of texts I’d had from anyone checking up on me after the wedding had been canceled. A few co-workers texted to say they were sorry I wasn’t coming back to work, but that was it.
Shivering, I vowed—again—to stop speculating about what had happened. I had to get on with my life before my out-of-control feelings got the best of me. The next day I would go to a coffee shop, check my banking app, and look at my credit card charges. Then I would start searching for a new job. I knew it would take some time, but hopefully not more than a couple of weeks.
As much as I loved Mammi and as much as I valued her community, I had to leave Indiana before my emotions consumed me.