Savannah
As I stood at the window of the farmhouse waiting for Tommy the next morning, I thought of Emma. She’d made it to Indiana and was quickly thrust into helping her mother deliver babies again. Eli Wagler offered security but seemed full of himself. Judah Landis didn’t have anything to offer Emma, and he didn’t want to marry a widow.
I sighed. I hoped I could hear the rest of the story before I left. Would Emma stay in Indiana? Or go back home and marry Abel? Jah, she’d have to leave her family, but life would definitely be easier than in Indiana.
A sentiment I shared.
On the phone, Ryan had said, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” Did that mean he regretted what he’d done? My heart began to race. Did he want me back?
I shook my head. How could I even entertain the idea? He’d dumped me. Heartlessly and emphatically. The sooner I forgot him and put him behind me, the better.
Tommy turned his Jeep into the driveway just as Mammi came into the room, heading toward her quilting frame.
“I’ll be gone all morning,” I said. “I’ll let Uncle Seth know I’m picking up a rental and will return his pickup this afternoon.”
“All right.” Mammi peered over her reading glasses. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
“What do you have planned for tomorrow?”
“I thought I’d go out to Jane’s.”
“Perfect.” I grinned at her. “I’ll take you.” And hopefully hear more of Emma’s story. I gave Mammi a wave as I walked out the door, pulling it shut behind me.
The morning sky was blue with just a few puffs of white clouds. It was cold, but not bitterly so. The thermometer on the other side of Mammi’s kitchen window had read thirty—the warmest it had been since I arrived.
I grabbed my phone charger from the pickup and then climbed into Tommy’s Jeep, this time in the front seat.
He wore a San Francisco Giants hat. The black and orange looked good over his brown eyes and goatee. “Guder mariye,” he said, with an impish grin.
“Good morning to you too.” I laughed. “Nice hat.”
“Thanks. I bought it at a game.”
“At Oracle Park? In San Francisco?”
He nodded.
Incredulous, I asked, “You were in the city and didn’t let me know?”
“I didn’t know you lived there,” he said. “Otherwise I would have.”
What would that have been like? Would Ryan and I have taken him out to dinner? Offered him a place to stay?
“I’ve been to San Fran a few times over the years,” he said. “But last I heard you were going to UCLA.”
“And you thought I was on the ten-year plan?”
He laughed. “No, I always knew you were smart. I was pretty sure you’d do well.”
I always knew he was smart too. I held up my charger. “Mind if I plug this in?”
“Go ahead.” He pulled out the cigarette lighter so I could.
“I’m a little obsessive about taking advantage of every opportunity I have to charge my phone,” I explained.
“Please note that I have an apartment in town.” Tommy backed out of the driveway. “With electricity.”
“Did you give notice on your apartment? Like you did your job?”
He shook his head as he pulled onto the highway. “Kenny took over the lease.”
“But now he’s not here.”
Tommy nodded. “I’m not sure what to do about that. I keep expecting Kenny to show up any day now. When he does, I’ll let Deputy Rogers know.”
“That puts you in a difficult situation.”
Tommy shrugged. “He’s put me in difficult situations before. He knows how this works.”
I couldn’t help but be a little suspicious. Was Tommy trying to put himself in a better light by criticizing Kenny?
But he seemed so matter-of-fact about all of it. He didn’t seem arrogant or self-serving. I decided to change the topic. “So what’s the story with Mason’s mom?”
“She was in rehab but has been out for a few months,” he answered. “The court determined she can have Mason back in a halfway house kind of situation.”
Dumbfounded, I asked, “And you’re okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Isn’t he better off here, with you?” I paused and then added, “With his father?”
He raised his eyebrows and then suppressed a smile. “I can see why you would think that, with him calling me Dada and all. But he calls every man he meets Dada. I’m not his father.”
“What?”
“Kenny is.”
Dumbfounded again, I leaned back against the seat. “But your mom is his grandmother, right? And I’m pretty sure Mammi thinks he’s your son.”
Tommy wrinkled his nose. “I think a lot of people do. My mom doesn’t, of course. But she tells everyone Mason is her grandson, which is somewhat true since she certainly took Kenny in. They have a mother-son relationship. Kenny has broken her heart more than any of us.” Again, I wondered if by being negative about Kenny, Tommy was trying to make himself look better.
“Is Mason more attached to you than Kenny?”
“No, Mason is pretty fond of him too. I’m just more available.” Tommy pulled onto Route 6, heading west. When I didn’t say any more, he finally continued. “Christine is the name of Mason’s mom. She grew up in Texas and met Kenny in Las Vegas, when he and I were living out there. Kenny was on the up-and-up then. Not doing—or selling—drugs. He was working construction and met Christine at an AA meeting, which is the closest he’s come to any kind of therapy or rehab. He fell head over heels.
“She got pregnant and stayed clean, but then started using again after Mason was born. When she went into rehab, Kenny and I headed home so my mom could help with Mason, which turned out to be the best option.” He had a sad, faraway look in his eyes. “But then Kenny started acting weird here, staying out late, sleeping all day, being evasive. Mom was taking care of Mason during the day, and I was taking care of him at night.” He sighed. “I have no idea what’s best for Mason, if taking him back to Nevada is even the right thing to do.”
“Why doesn’t Kenny drive Mason back to Nevada?” I asked.
Tommy stared straight ahead, not taking his eyes off the road to even glance at me. “He and Christine were fighting when she went into rehab. No one thinks it’s a good idea for him to go down there.”
“But what about custody?” The pitch of my voice was rising. “Is Kenny just going to give Mason up?”
“I’m not sure.” Tommy shrugged. “Hopefully Kenny will move back to Nevada soon or at least visit regularly—once Christine is in a better place and once he’s in a better place too.”
“It doesn’t sound as if he’s doing anything to get in a better place.”
“That’s true,” Tommy answered.
My voice stayed high and was tense now too. “Will you stay in Nevada? And be able to see Mason?”
“I’m planning on staying, and I hope I can see Mason,” he said. “If Christine will allow it.”
“Does Christine have support?”
He glanced over at me, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “This reminds me of when we were little. Of all the questions you asked.”
I grimaced. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” he said. “It’s good to talk about it.” He took a deep breath. “The only support Christine has will come from the staff at the halfway house, but they say that women do better in recovery if their children are with them.” He checked his side mirror and rearview mirror and then passed a semi. “Christine had a pretty rotten childhood. Lots of trauma, thus the addiction. Her parents were out of the picture, but she had a grandmother who raised her. She died right after Mason was born, which probably accounted for her relapse.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “That and the fact that Kenny wasn’t the best partner.”
I exhaled as Tommy passed another semi. “Poor Christine.”
Tommy nodded. “Kenny’s had his own trauma. His mom died from cancer when he was fourteen, and his dad was never warm and fuzzy, certainly not supportive. Kenny was out on his own at sixteen.” He sighed. “At least Kenny and Christine both have reasons for their downfalls. There are lots of things I’ve done for no reason that I regret.”
I was impressed with how empathetic Tommy sounded when talking about Christine and Kenny. He didn’t sound judgmental or unforgiving. Then again, if he had regrets, maybe his empathy was based on his own experience. I had no idea what he’d done.
Before I could ask more questions, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered it anyway. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Joshua Wenger. Listen, I haven’t heard from Miriam since Wednesday. I’m afraid something’s happened to her.”
“What do you mean, you haven’t heard from her?”
He didn’t answer.
“Joshua, be honest with me. Does she have a cell phone?”
After a long moment of silence, he said, “Jah. But like I said, I haven’t heard from her. Maybe she hasn’t been able to charge it. Or maybe something’s happened.”
“Would you please give me her number?”
“No,” he said. “She wouldn’t answer her phone if you called, even if I did.”
Exasperated, I replied, “I’m on my way to Gary to try to find her.” I didn’t add that Tommy Miller was with me. That would be hard to explain.
“I’ll text you the address of our relatives that she was staying with,” he said. “If she’s not there, I have no idea where she might be.”
“I’ll talk with them,” I said. “And call you back.”
“Hurry,” he said. “I’m worried about her.”
TOMMY MERGED ONTO the interstate, which meant we had about twenty more minutes to Gary. I was about ready to punch in the address, when I decided to check my email first. Nothing from the hospital in Lancaster. Quickly, I zipped over to my banking app. I groaned. None of the charges had been reversed.
“What’s up?” Tommy asked.
“Credit card problems.”
“Stolen?”
I nearly laughed. If only. “It’s a long story.”
He wore a concerned expression on his face. “Does it have to do with your ex?”
I exhaled. “You know?”
“I heard you had a canceled wedding is all.”
“Who from?”
“A guy at work whose wife knows someone who is pregnant—”
“—and who knows my cousin Delores.” I groaned again.
“That’s probably the connection.” He glanced at me. “Sorry.”
“No worries.” I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to talk with anyone about it. “Yeah, there was a canceled wedding. Ryan, the canceler, said he’d pay for everything, but his credit card was stolen and all the vendors charged mine.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Hopefully it will soon be remedied. He was supposed to have called everyone with his new card number.” Desperate to get his attention off of me, I tried to change the subject. “How about you?” I asked. “Any heartbreaks in your past?”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I’ve had my share, starting with Sadie Yoder.”
I smiled. “The girl you ditched me for? For a walk down the lane?”
He laughed. “Sorry about that.” Then seriously, he said, “I can definitely feel your pain. I know this has to be an especially rough time for you.”
I swallowed hard, willing myself not to cry.
“I won’t say it will get better.” He smiled shyly. “I mean, I know it will, but it doesn’t help you to have me say that. Although I hope it will—and soon.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate your kind words.”
“I hope I’m not being too nosy, but any idea what happened?” Tommy asked. “Why Ryan called it off?”
I hesitated for a moment, not sure how transparent I should be with Tommy. I decided it didn’t matter. I’d soon be headed far away from Nappanee, while he would be going back to Las Vegas, if he was innocent in Miriam’s disappearance.
I told him about Amber. “But obviously that wasn’t the only reason. There had to be other issues too.” I was feeling sad about Ryan at the moment, and I didn’t paint things between us in as a harsh a light as I sometimes felt.
“I suppose the situation would be pretty complex,” Tommy said.
“I just wish I could understand what happened. Ryan was the one who got me to return to church, to have hope for the future. I finally felt as if I wasn’t alone anymore.”
“I’m really sorry,” Tommy said.
“Thanks. I’ve heard there are others who’ve gotten dumped right before their wedding. I’ve just never met any of them.”
“Jah, I am sorry that you got dumped. But what I meant was that I’m sorry you’d felt so alone for so long.”
Tears sprung into my eyes. Before I could think twice, I poured out my sorrow about Mom dying and Dad remarrying so soon. Finally, I caught myself. “I’m being insensitive to you, about your father’s death.”
“No, you’re not,” Tommy said. “He had cancer. I had years to prepare myself. I still have my mother. Losing your mom and then your family was a big loss. And now losing Ryan too.”
I nodded as my throat filled with grief. Tommy really did understand.
He slowed behind a van in the left-hand lane. “I thought of you a lot when I heard about your mom’s car accident and death. I know how much you loved her.”
“Denki.” This time I couldn’t stop the tears and began wiping them from under my eyes.
He quickly patted my knee.
I couldn’t speak, but I tried to smile, which didn’t help as it only made me cry harder.
“You have your own trauma,” he said as I rummaged through my purse for a tissue.
“Don’t we all?” I managed to choke out.
Tommy smiled sympathetically and concentrated on passing the van.
I didn’t recognize I was traumatized after Mom’s death at first. It wasn’t like Dad hauled me off to counseling or anything. It wasn’t until I started at UCLA that it became clear to me I had a problem. One didn’t have to be a party animal to find solace in drinking. The girls on my floor seemed to always have alcohol around, especially on weekends, and when it was offered to me, I drank.
It really did numb the pain, and it was soon obvious that I had a surplus of untreated trauma, with no one to talk to about Mom’s accident and death. But then one of my roommates, after I’d sloppy-cried on her shoulder the Sunday night before, walked me to the counseling center the next day.
Therapy helped me see that grief manifested itself in many different ways, including anger, control, and denial. Counseling didn’t cure me, but I believe it saved me from a much rockier path.
After I met Ryan and we started attending church, I still didn’t talk to God a lot, but the music, scripture, and teaching turned my heart toward God. After a while, I found myself praying occasionally again.
I realized I’d been lost in my own thoughts when Tommy said, “I’m happy to listen if you want to talk.”
“Oh,” I said, “I’ve just been thinking about how I’d been depending on Ryan more and more—more than on God—because Ryan was what I wanted. But I’m finally beginning to comprehend that what I needed was an entirely different matter.”
I’d wanted financial security. A family. A beautiful home. But I didn’t feel as if I could be entirely honest with Ryan. I often felt I was hiding a part of myself. The part that grew up rural, that had spent time on an Amish farm.
“What do you need?”
“Honesty,” I answered. “To be honest about my past and honest as I try to figure out my future.”
“Does your future still include you becoming a midwife?” Tommy asked. “Because I remember you talking about it all the time when we were kids. You idealized your mom. And Delores too.”
I smiled at the memories and then shook my head. “I don’t foresee being a midwife in my future, but wanting to be one was part of my past—a part I’ve been hiding as of late. It’s been good for me to revisit all of that. I’ve neglected it.”
Spending time with Tommy made it obvious I’d pushed a lot of my memories and feelings away. He was showing himself to be a caring person.
Unless he had something to do with Miriam’s disappearance.
Then he was the biggest fraud ever, and I was the biggest fool, an even bigger one than I’d been with Ryan.
We’d reached the outskirts of Gary already, and I quickly keyed the address into my maps app. It directed us to the east side of town, which consisted of mostly single-dwelling wood-frame houses. Many had plywood over the windows. Haphazard troughs had been made where people had walked on sidewalks that weren’t shoveled.
When we reached the address, Tommy pulled over. The sage green house on the corner was small, but it appeared well kept. Smoke curled out of the chimney. The sidewalk was shoveled and the driveway cleared.
“Ready?” As I climbed out, a compact car on the side street pulled away from the curb, fishtailing a little.
Tommy led the way up the steps to the wide porch. He knocked on the front door.
We could hear the patter of feet, and then a small woman dressed in a Mennonite dress and Kapp opened the door. Behind her were two blond preschool-aged little girls who clung to her skirt. “Hello,” she said with a Pennsylvania Dutch accent.
“I’m Tommy Miller.” He motioned toward me. “And this is Savannah Mast. We’re looking for a young woman named Miriam. Her brother thought she might be here.”
“You just missed her,” the woman said. “She left a minute ago.”
I turned toward the street. Had she been in the compact car on the side street?
“Do you know where she’s going?” Tommy asked.
“I’m not sure.” The woman motioned to the inside of the house. “Come on in.”
Tommy took off his baseball cap and stepped aside, letting me go in first. The room was sparsely furnished, with just a couch and one chair. A few toys, a dollhouse, and a play buggy with a horse sat on a low table against the wall. The hardwood floor shone as if it had just been polished, and a small wood stove in the corner had a fire burning in it.
The woman motioned toward the couch, and Tommy and I both sat down, while she sat in the chair, the girls still holding on to her.
“I’m Ethel King, Miriam’s aunt. My brother was her father.” She was the aunt Arleta had mentioned, the relative Joshua had referred to.
“Nice to meet you,” Tommy said.
The woman nodded but didn’t smile. “Why are you looking for Miriam?”
I answered, “I was at Arleta’s, helping her birth her baby, the night Miriam disappeared.”
“And I was the driver who dropped Miriam off back at home right before she disappeared,” Tommy added.
Neither explanation gave us credibility to be looking for her, but it was the best we had. “Joshua told me he’s worried about her. He gave us your address.”
She nodded. That seemed to reassure her. “When her father passed last year, I told her that if she ever wanted to leave the Amish, my husband and I would help her. A man, probably in his late twenties, dropped her off on Sunday.”
I glanced at Tommy, wondering what his reaction might be. Could it be Kenny? But Tommy continued to keep his gaze on Ethel.
“I thought she was serious about leaving the Amish—and not just because things are so miserable at home.” Miriam pulled her youngest girl onto her lap while the other one draped around her legs. “But then about ten minutes ago, this same man showed up at the house again. After a short conversation, Miriam told me she was going with him. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
“What did the man look like?” Tommy asked.
“Like I said, late twenties. Brown hair and brown eyes. A small tattoo on the side of his neck. It looked like a cactus, maybe, I couldn’t tell exactly.”
By the expression on Tommy’s face, he knew someone with a tattoo of a cactus on the side of his neck. I guessed it was Kenny. “Was the man driving a gray Camry?” Tommy asked.
“I don’t know. He didn’t park in front of the house.”
The car parked on the side street when we arrived was gray. I didn’t notice whether it was a Camry or not. I turned back toward Ethel and asked, “You don’t know where they were going?”
Ethel shook her head. “I assumed back home, but when I asked, she wouldn’t say.”
“Did she have a cell phone with her?”
Ethel nodded. “She didn’t have the right charger, so it was dead. But she has a phone, although she wouldn’t give me her number.” She looked on the verge of tears. “Miriam seems like a lost soul, as if she doesn’t have any idea what she needs for her future.”
I was most concerned about her immediate well-being. Was she safe with Kenny Miller? Was she safe going back home to Arleta and Vernon’s? “Do you think it’s a good idea for her to go back?” I asked. “Vernon might not be very happy with her.”
“Oh, I think Arleta can handle Vernon.”
I wasn’t so sure.
Ethel said, “I have a question for you. I appreciate your concern, but why are you so worried about her? She’s an adult.”
I leaned forward. “She went missing under mysterious circumstances, in the dead of night during a blizzard. And from what you’ve told us, it sounds like she might be running again. If she’s not headed back to Nappanee, do you have any guess where she might be going?”
Ethel wrinkled her nose. “Maybe to Chicago. She said she has a friend there.” Ethel pulled her daughter against her chest. “I hope she’s going home, but if she is, then she needs to be honest with Arleta and Vernon.”
“Honest about what?” Tommy asked.
“Being pregnant.”
Immediately, I feared Kenny was the father. And Tommy might have been too because he asked, “How far along?”
“Six months,” Ethel answered.
I could sense Tommy’s relief as I did the mental math in my head. He and Kenny had been in Nappanee since September—a total of four months. There was no way Kenny could be the father. But he did appear to be helping her.
Ethel dropped her voice, as if she thought maybe her girls wouldn’t hear her, even though they were glued to her. “Miriam says the father is a young man from Newbury Township, from their old district.”
“Maybe she’s going there,” I said.
Ethel shook her head. “I don’t believe her about the father. I think she made that up.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t say it with much conviction. It sounded like an answer to get me to stop asking questions.”