“Did you say Mr. Griffiths?” Gary had just dropped by with six brownie batter donuts, which he proceeded to stuff in his mouth rather quickly after Martha refused one.
“His name is Mr. Griffits, actually. Have you heard of him?”
“Oh, I thought his name was Griffiths, but yes, I’ve heard of him, if he’s elderly and kind of stooped over, and has a very loud voice and huge, bushy eyebrows?” Gary attempted to mime bushy eyebrows.
Martha smiled. “That’s him.”
“He’s famous!” Gary exclaimed. “He gets those really bad criminals off their charges. How on earth can you afford him?”
Marta’s smile at once turned into a frown. “He’s expensive?”
Gary nodded, and pointed to his mouth to indicate that he couldn’t speak as it was full of donuts. He finally spoke when his mouth was half empty. “Well, he’s pretty famous. He’s on TV all the time,” he managed to say.
Martha’s stomach clenched. How much was Moses paying this man? She felt horribly guilty for placing such a burden on Moses.
“So that’s why you’re moving out then, is it?” Gary asked.
Martha moved across to the sofas and sat down on one. Gary followed and sat opposite her. “Yes, Mr. Griffits advised me to avoid Sheryl, not that I think she’ll ever come back, and he said I should move back home soon.”
“Hey, if you have to avoid Sheryl, you can rent my spare room.”
Martha gasped. “Oh thank you for the kind thought, Gary, but that wouldn’t be right.”
Gary looked offended. “It would all be above board and all that, no funny business.” His offended expression changed to one of hurt. “We Englischers, or whatever you call us, do that all the time, boys and girls renting together. They don’t even have to be friends.”
Martha forced a smile. “You’re a good friend, Gary, but I couldn’t.”
Gary pouted. “You’re not Amish anymore.”
“But I am Amish. I’ve just been on rumspringa.” Martha inhaled sharply. The fact she had said that surprised her.
Gary pulled a long face. “But we’ll still be friends, won’t we? You’ll come back and see me—and Laura too?”
“Of course I will. Actually, I gave notice at work this morning, but Laura wasn’t there. I’ll have to tell her what’s happening too.”
“I’ll tell her if you like,” Gary said. “We’re having dinner tonight.” As soon as his words were out, his face went beet red, and he stood up and shuffled over to the window.
Martha followed him. “Gary, are you and Laura dating?”
Gary nodded, and smiled shyly.
“Gary, that’s wunderbar, err, wonderful! I’m so pleased for both of you.” Martha felt a little guilty that part of her pleasure was for the fact that Laura had clearly given up her previous little crush on Moses.
Gary was still blushing furiously, so Martha figured he must really like Laura. After his disclosure, Gary for once seemed at a loss for words, so hurried to the door after putting the last brownie batter donut in his mouth.
After she had shown him out, Martha made her way to the kitchen, but was only half way there when there was a knock at the door. Figuring Gary had forgotten to tell her something, Martha hurried back to the door and opened it.
To her dismay, a man and a woman were standing outside the door, looking quite serious. Martha’s stomach twisted. Were these plain-clothes police officers coming to take her in for more questioning?
“Martha Miller?” the man said.
“Yes,” Martha said in small, frightened voice, trying not to burst into tears.
“We’re Sheryl Graber’s parents,” the man said. “May we come in and talk to you please?”
Martha hesitated a moment, being somewhat in shock. Her sense of relief that they were not police officers was fleeting, for Mr. Griffits had said she must have no contact with Sheryl—but surely that would not extend to Sheryl’s parents?
“Is Sheryl with you?” she asked, standing in the doorway.
“No, she isn’t,” the woman said.
Martha stood aside. “Please come in.” She showed them to the sofa. “Please sit down. Would you like a cup of coffee, or hot tea?”
Mrs. Garner, who was wringing her hands nervously, spoke up. “I’d like hot tea please, with sugar. My husband would like coffee. Thank you.” Mr. Garner nodded his agreement.
Martha’s thoughts were tumbling one after the other as she made the coffee and tea. Why were Sheryl’s parents here?
Martha carried out the hot drinks and set them on the coffee table, and then sat down. She had not made herself a drink as she was too nervous. “Is Sheryl okay?” she asked, suddenly anxious.
“Yes,” Mr. Garner said, before taking a sip of coffee. “She’s in rehab.”
“Rehab?” Martha thought rehab was for drug addicts and alcoholics. “Did Sheryl have a drug problem?”
Mrs. Garner shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, but Mr. Garner was the one to speak. “I’ll explain everything. We’re so sorry you got mixed up in this. Sheryl is a kleptomaniac. Do you know what that is?”
Martha thought for a moment. “Someone who steals things, but can’t help it, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he said. “We’ve had trouble with Sheryl stealing for years, and finally had her booked in to see a specialist in this type of thing, but she didn’t turn up for her first appointment and we didn’t see her again for some time.”
“Until she called to tell us she’d been arrested for theft—again,” Mrs. Garner said, through her tears.
“Martha, if I may call you Martha?” Mr. Garner asked. Martha nodded, so he continued. “Martha, Sheryl was very upset that the police had arrested you, so she’s made a full statement to them that you had nothing to do with it. We’ve also spoken to the police and they’re now aware of the full extent of Sheryl’s problem, including the fact that she’s always worked alone.”
Martha was shocked. The room seemed to spin and she wondered if she were about to faint. The sense of relief was overpowering, so much so, that she didn’t know how she’d cope with it.
“So then, it’s all straightened out,” he added. “The charges against you have been dropped. We’ll pay your legal expenses to date.” Martha made to speak, but he held up his hand. “We insist. We’re quite wealthy people, which makes Sheryl’s behavior even harder to understand, although we’ve always been told that it’s a psychiatric disorder. We couldn’t have it on our conscience if you paid for a lawyer.”
Martha thanked them, but Mr. Garner wouldn’t hear of it. “Now, we also don’t want you out of pocket with this apartment. Sheryl had paid in advance before her arrest, but we’ll pay her share for another month if you want to continue with the apartment, but then you’ll have to get the lease transferred out of her name and into yours.”
“That’s very kind,” Martha said, waving their protestations aside, “but I’ve actually decided to go home. I’m Amish, as Sheryl’s likely told you, and I’ve been on rumspringa. I’m going to go home.” And Martha meant every word.