Chapter 19
Two weeks later, Leah felt torn about telling her mother good-bye. On the one hand, Alice and Adeline seemed to have returned to being the cheerful, conscientious Amish girls she and Jude wanted them to be—but on the other hand, Leah had truly enjoyed her mother’s company.
“I’ve had a wonderful-gut time here with your family, Leah,” Mama said as she packed the last of her cape dresses into her old suitcase. “But it’s almost the middle of April, and things need doing around home.”
Leah heard a touch of homesickness in her mother’s words. “I really wish you’d stay, Mama,” she said softly. “Not just because you’ll always be a better cook than I am, but because we all really love having you here—and because I worry about you getting lonely all by yourself on the farm.”
Mama gently placed her hand alongside Leah’s cheek, gazing into her eyes. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart, and far too busy to be lonely. Now that you’re an old hand at handling Betsy—and especially now that the twins have come around to being responsible young women—I want the five of you to become a family without me hanging around.”
Leah blinked rapidly. She hadn’t anticipated feeling so emotional at this moment because she’d always known Mama would return home, yet her eyes grew hot with unshed tears. “You’ve given us all such a gift, Mama,” she whispered. “Your time and assistance with Betsy and Stevie and the girls—your wisdom—has meant more to us than you’ll ever know.”
Mama must have been feeling sentimental, too, because she looked away—pretending to search the guest room for something she might’ve forgotten to pack. “It’s what mothers do, Leah. My coming here was nothing compared to the way you’ve opened your heart to Betsy—and to Alice, Adeline, and Stevie, as well,” she insisted softly. “Jude’s a lucky man to have you running his household. I recall giving you a talking-to the night before your wedding, trying to convince you that marrying into this family would never work out. But it has.”
Leah hugged her mother hard, knowing it had been difficult for her to admit she’d been wrong about the marriage. “I still don’t understand what you and Margaret and Jeremiah did to turn the twins’ behavior around,” she said. “It was such a help to have you sewing their new dresses—and those patchwork jackets are amazing—”
“They were a great way to use up some solid-color quilting scraps,” Mama pointed out with a chuckle. She eased away to study Leah’s face. “I honestly don’t know what changed the girls’ ways. Maybe it was Jeremiah telling them they’d be on their knees, confessing in front of the congregation if they didn’t straighten up and fly right.”
Mama stepped away to look out the window. “Or maybe when Adeline and Alice told that outrageous tale about Betsy being your secret baby—and then realized how the Slabaugh sisters and our other guests would spread the word about their lies—they scared themselves . . . realized that everyone in town would think a lot more harshly of them than they would you.”
“Or maybe,” Leah put in hopefully, “those English boys have written them off.” Even as she said this, Leah suspected Dexter and Phil were still eager to get the cell phone back—unless they’d reported it stolen, so they wouldn’t have to pay the monthly charges for it. She hadn’t wanted to ask Adeline and Alice about what had inspired their change of heart, fearing she might jinx their three-week run of model behavior.
“Maybe we won’t find out until years down the road, when one of the twins mentions it in passing after she’s been married to a nice Amish man for a while,” Mama suggested. “And maybe we’ll never know. Life is filled with maybes, and those possibilities either work out or they evaporate like the steam from a teakettle.”
Leah nodded, sighing as her mother fastened the metal clasps of her suitcases. The sound had such finality to it—but when Stevie burst into the room, he drove out any possibility of Leah dwelling upon the way she already missed Mama’s company.
“Mammi Lenore, do ya really hafta go?” he asked, opening his arms to her.
Mama leaned down to hug him, kissing his cheek loudly. “You’re getting so big I can’t pick you up anymore, Stevie,” she said cheerfully, “but I sure am happy to see you so happy these days. And I’m leaving it up to you to look after your mamm, all right? Will you do that for me until I come back?”
“Jah, I’m on it!” the boy replied with a smile for Leah. “Me and Leah, we’re a team!”
As the three of them headed down the stairs, Alice and Adeline came through the front room to meet them—and to take the two suitcases. They had bread in the oven, and they’d been in the process of layering meat sauce and lasagna noodles into a pan while in the corner of the kitchen, Betsy went back and forth in the wind-up swing set.
Adeline smiled. “We really love our new dresses, Mammi Lenore—”
“And those pretty jackets you made us!” Alice added as they carried the luggage out the door Stevie held open for them.
“We hope you’ll come back and stay with us again!” one of them called over her shoulder.
“Jah, you’re an awesome cook, Mammi Lenore!” the other twin chimed in.
Mama leaned down to smile one last time at little Betsy. “I’ll see you again, wee girlie,” she whispered. “It’ll be a joy to watch you grow up.”
After one last crushing hug, Leah released her mother. She watched from the porch, waving when Mama, her mare Flo, and the buggy were headed down the lane toward the road. Her mother’s five-week visit had been such a blessing—a timely lifesaver—that Leah feared she would soon flounder again while trying to cook and clean and care for Betsy without Mama’s help.
God’s on it, she reminded herself as Stevie joined her on the porch. When he sighed contentedly and reached for her hand, Leah’s heart filled to overflowing. Why was she so concerned about running the household, when she had such a devoted son and husband, and three girls who made her life shine like the sun now that they all seemed so happy and settled?
* * *
Friday morning was a picture postcard of a spring day. From the kitchen window Leah noticed the redbud trees in the yard bursting with pinkish-purple blooms, as well as the dogwoods that were so full of blossoms they resembled huge popcorn balls. Cheerful red and yellow tulips filled the narrow flowerbed alongside the barn, and when the sun hit the grass at just the right angle, Leah held her breath. Every green blade was topped with a sparkling drop of dew, so the yard seemed to be covered with thousands of tiny glass beads. She took a moment to admire a sight that only God could’ve created.
“What kind of cookies do you want, Stevie?” one of the twins asked.
“We’ve got the makings for peanut butter, or oatmeal raisin, or soft sugar cookies with frosting,” her sister put in.
Leah turned in time to catch Stevie’s mischievous grin. He was seated at the kitchen table with a deck of playing cards, very carefully arranging them on their edges to make a simple house, as Jude had showed him. “All of ’em!” he replied. “Ya know how many cookies me and Dat’ll go through when he gets home from the sale barn this afternoon—and with the weekend comin’ up, we gotta be ready for that, too.”
Alice and Adeline rolled their eyes good-naturedly. “If we make peanut butter cookies, you’ll have to roll the dough into balls and then in the sugar,” Alice suggested.
“Because while you’re doing that,” Adeline said as she took the flour canister from the cupboard, “we can be making the dough for the sugar cookies.”
“And if you do a really gut job on the peanut butter balls, maybe we could be talked into making oatmeal raisin cookies, as well—if you’ll chop the walnuts for them,” Alice teased.
When Stevie jumped down from his chair, his house of cards collapsed, but he was too excited to care. “I’m goin’ to wash my hands! Fill up the nut chopper for me!”
Leah chuckled. It was such a pleasure to see the twins coaxing their little brother to help with the baking—and such a huge difference from the days when Alice and Adeline couldn’t have cared less about what sort of cookies Stevie wanted. Leah didn’t know why—and she didn’t want to jinx the situation by asking too many questions—but the twins had been staying home and behaving as though they’d forgotten all about the cell phone Jude had hidden in the barn, and about the boys who’d tempted them with it.
Leah went to the swing in the corner and cranked it again, making Betsy squeal and wiggle with delight. “Mah-mah-mah,” she babbled, waving her little arms. Even if it was probably too soon for the baby to form words, Leah wanted to think Betsy might be close to saying Mama . . . might be calling her that because she actually associated such a name with her, rather than just repeating the sound. Leah smiled at the happy baby, her heart filled with hope.
By the time Stevie returned to the kitchen and proudly held his clean hands up for Leah to inspect, she had poured walnuts into the jar with spring-loaded chopper blades built into its lid. “Here you go,” she said. “I’m sure glad you wanted all three kinds of cookies, Stevie, because they’re all my favorites, too.”
When he beamed at her, Leah shimmered with love for him. He was such a helpful son, so eager to please. Stevie climbed back into his chair at the table and braced the jar against the tabletop so he could push and twist the jar’s handle to operate the chopping blades. Adeline was pulling the metal cookie sheets from the cabinet, making quite a racket—but a louder noise outside made Leah look out the window. A faded red car with rust on its lower edges was coming up the lane. Before it stopped, the engine backfired again.
Leah watched a heavyset, dark-haired young woman in jeans and a sweatshirt climb out of the driver’s side. She vaguely wondered where she might’ve seen the girl before. Perhaps she needed directions, or was looking for one of the Amish shops that were scattered along the back roads . . . except her face was set in a purposeful expression edged with youthful uncertainty. When the visitor walked toward the front porch, Leah went to answer the door.
As she stepped into the open doorway, the back of Leah’s neck prickled. Did she feel apprehensive because English folks didn’t usually come to the door? Or because Jude wasn’t home? Or was it the stranger’s direct gaze that made Leah feel like a target about to be shot at?
“I’m Betsy’s mother. I came to take her home.”
Leah clutched the doorframe, momentarily forgetting how to form words. “I—I beg your pardon?” she finally managed.
The young woman cleared her throat, pointing to the porch floor. “I left my baby here last month,” she said in a tight voice, “and now I want her back. It was a—a big mistake to leave her here.”
Wishing desperately for Jude’s assistance, Leah fought to focus her racing thoughts. “I don’t have any idea who you are,” she stalled. “Why should I just let you take Betsy—”
“Hey, there’s a car out front!” one of the twins called from the kitchen.
The sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen—the grasp of Stevie’s hand as he hurried up beside her—gave Leah a surge of courage.
“Who’re you?” Stevie piped up. About that time the twins were peering out the door from behind him and Leah.
“Natalie? What’re you doing here?” Adeline asked, exchanging a wary glance with her sister.
Alice took a step back. “Hey, if this involves something—or somebody—at the pool hall, we don’t want to talk about it.”
The pool hall. Leah suddenly wondered if this was the young woman who’d been flirting with the fellows the day she’d found the twins there—the girl who’d gotten her tank top yanked down over her shoulders.
“How many times do I have to say it?” Natalie demanded. “I came here to take Betsy home, so—”
“Come inside so we can talk about this,” Leah interrupted nervously. “I need a lot more information before I even think about giving up a—a member of our family!”
“Jah, and I’m not letting the cookies burn while we listen to this ridiculous conversation,” Adeline muttered as she and Alice strode back toward the kitchen.
Stevie followed his sisters, glancing warily over his shoulder at the young woman who came inside behind Leah. Natalie can’t be much older than the twins, Leah fretted. How can I even think of letting her take our Betsy away?
While Adeline pulled two sheets of cookies from the oven, Alice stood beside the swing with her arms crossed tightly. Betsy babbled at her, but the girl was too intent on studying Natalie to coo at the baby. “So let me guess,” Alice said sharply. “You dumped Betsy on our porch last month because you wanted Nick or Alex to date you.”
“And a baby got in your way,” Adeline added in a scornful tone.
Stevie turned his attention from the hot pans of cookies to glare at their guest. “Is that any way to treat a poor little baby?” he demanded hotly. “I’m thinkin’ we love Betsy a whole lot more than you do.”
You took the words out of my mouth, Stevie. Leah was at a loss—feeling sick to her stomach—because she saw how Natalie’s gaze was fixed on Betsy as the baby swayed back and forth in her swing. Betsy had filled out a lot, and in her sunny yellow dress and airy curls of light brown, she resembled a doll baby, pink and perfect—a far cry from the condition she’d been in when Leah had found her in a basket on the porch a month ago.
“I—I brought Betsy here because I knew you’d take care of her,” Natalie said in a halting voice. Once again, she held Leah’s gaze, beseeching her. “When you came to the pool hall that day to take Alice and Adeline home, I could see that you loved them enough to look after them, so I—I figured Betsy would be in good hands here.”
“Jah, she is in gut hands here,” Alice retorted. “She has a real family now.”
Adeline frowned as she removed cookies from the pans with a metal spatula. “Why should we even think about letting you have her back, Natalie? Betsy’s our sister now. We’ve made plans to adopt her—because her mother didn’t want her,” she added with a purposeful glare.
Natalie took a few tentative steps toward the swing, swallowing hard. “My family’s been pretty tough on me for getting into this mess—they’re Mennonites, and they’re mad because I don’t want to join the church. But—but I want to take care of Betsy now. She’ll love me even if nobody else does, so I—I’ve got to have her back. Please! It’s only right— it’s only fair,” she insisted tearfully, “because now I realize what a mistake it was to abandon her.”
“Mah-mah-mah!” Betsy chirped as the swing stopped moving.
“See there!” Natalie said ecstatically. “She remembers me! She knows I’m her mother and she’s happy to see me!”
Leah knew better . . . but she also knew what she had to do, even if letting go of Betsy sliced her like a knife. God had surely guided Natalie to bring Betsy to their home last month, but He’d also brought the young mother to her senses—even if she seemed woefully incapable of giving Betsy a stable home life. But who are you to judge? Not long ago Alice and Adeline were making our home life pretty miserable.
“So, Natalie, where are you living now?” Leah asked in the firmest voice she could muster. “I can’t possibly let Betsy go with you if you’ve not got a place for—”
“I’m at my parents’ house, on the other side of Morning Star,” Natalie replied quickly. “I’m ready to be responsible for my baby. Honest.”
Leah felt as though she might faint. She closed her eyes to lean against the kitchen counter, struggling to do the right thing. “When you brought Betsy here, you didn’t leave us any bottles or diapers or clothing. Do you have those things for her?” she asked. “Betsy’s been doing well—growing like a weed—on milk from my goats. What will you be feeding her?”
“I’ve got a can of formula powder out in the car,” Natalie quickly assured her. “But hey, if you could give me some clothes and diapers and stuff, I could sure use them.”
Adeline stared incredulously. “Leah, you can’t be serious!”
“You know Natalie can’t take gut care of Betsy! She doesn’t even have clothes for her,” Alice chimed in, placing her fists on her hips. “Why should we let her take a poor, helpless baby—”
“Because she’s Betsy’s mother, and a baby belongs with her mamm,” Leah put in, somehow managing not to burst into tears at the mere thought of what she had to do. “If—if you girls will help me pack the clothes and bottles, this will go easier. Faster.”
Not waiting for their reply, Leah turned to go upstairs before she lost her nerve. Her heart was banging against her rib cage and the staircase blurred as her eyes filled with tears, but she knew Jude would make the same decision, even though he’d loved Betsy as his own child since her mysterious appearance.
He’ll be devastated when he comes home and finds that Betsy’s gone, she thought as she entered the bedroom. Leah heard the twins speaking loudly and none too politely to Natalie downstairs in the kitchen, so she quickly emptied the drawers of the cloth diapers, onesies, and little dresses her mother had so lovingly sewn. She didn’t want Betsy to have time to get upset by the girls’ confrontational talk—and she knew she’d cave in with despair if she stopped to think about what she was doing. She found a big plastic bin in the hall closet and stuffed the clothes into it.
Downstairs, Leah tucked as many baby bottles as would fit inside the bin and snapped its lid shut. She couldn’t look at Betsy in Natalie’s arms—didn’t dare ask to hold her one last time, for fear she’d be unable to let go of the little girl who’d so effortlessly filled her heart and her days this past month. And if Betsy sees me crying for her—or won’t release me to go with Natalie—we’ll all get more upset.
“All right, Natalie, let’s go. Let’s get this over with,” Leah whispered as she hurried toward the door with the bin. Summoning every ounce of strength she had, she headed outside toward the run-down car, sensing she would regret this decision—would mourn this day—for the rest of her life.
But she was doing the right thing. In the Bible story about the two women who’d each begged King Solomon for a disputed baby, hadn’t the baby’s real mother loved the child enough to give it up after the king had threatened to cut the child in half?
Leah reached the car and flung open a back door so she could stuff the bin into the backseat. The car smelled musty and was littered with food wrappers, but that wasn’t her immediate concern. “Don’t leave yet,” she rasped as Natalie came along behind her with the baby. “I still have your basket. She—she can ride in it instead of bouncing around loose on the seat.”
Somehow Leah made it to the house and then to the car again. As Natalie laid Betsy in the towel-lined basket, Leah felt as though this girl had just ripped her world to shreds. When the baby began to cry and reach for her, Leah turned away and held herself. “I—I wish you joy and God’s blessings as you raise your beautiful little girl,” she blurted out. “We love her more than you’ll ever know. Denki for sharing her with us.”
Leah rushed back to the kitchen and fell into a chair—but the emotional toll of giving up baby Betsy propelled her to the bathroom, sick to her stomach. When she’d stopped vomiting, she stumbled weakly to her chair at the table again. The twins were so upset with her that they’d forgotten all about baking cookies.
“This is just wrong, Leah,” Alice cried out. “Can’t you see that?”
“Natalie has no clue about raising a baby!” Adeline added vehemently.
Leah understood their criticisms, but she tried to help them understand her reasoning. “Natalie gave us such a gift, entrusting her baby to us—think about what a hard choice she made, and how tough her life’s been since she had a baby out of wedlock,” she insisted softly. “We’ve become a stronger family because Betsy was here, because we all wanted her to grow and be healthy. We need to keep Natalie and Betsy in our prayers, and be grateful for the time we had with Betsy. She pulled us together, girls.”
“And now Natalie’s tearing us apart!” Adeline put in angrily.
Alice started for the door. “We’re going after her. We’ve got to make her see reason.”
The slam of the back door made Leah wince. She admired the twins’ fierce need to retrieve Betsy—and it warmed her heart to see how far the girls had come since the baby’s arrival, when they’d wanted nothing to do with her. Yet she felt Natalie deserved a chance to raise her child. Natalie would make mistakes and some questionable decisions, no doubt. But what parent didn’t?
Stevie was in the front room crying, but Leah didn’t yet have the strength to go comfort him. She sat holding her head in her hands, focused on the tabletop so she wouldn’t have to look at the empty swing where, mere moments ago, Betsy had been laughing and babbling at them. Such a happy, healthy baby. The light of their lives.
I feel like these cards Stevie was playing with, Leah thought as tears ran down her cheeks. Scattered and strewn, as though my house—my life—is suddenly empty and has collapsed around me. What am I supposed to do now, Lord? And how can I possibly explain this to Jude?