Ariana held sleeping five-month-old Katie Ann in the crook of one arm while she read to snuggling four-year-old Esther. The love seat that faced the glowing fire in the hearth was perfect on a bleary mid-January afternoon.
She glanced at Katie Ann’s sweet face while turning pages. When Ariana was away, her arms had ached to hold her little nieces and nephews, and she’d looked forward to snowball fights with the older ones. Despite the roar of confusion in her head, she had no doubts about her feelings for her family.
She turned another page, read the few words, and waited while Esther ran her little fingers over the details of each illustration. Getting away had helped some, probably because no one here was preaching at her or feeling offended if she saw God’s Word differently. Ariana turned the last page. “And the bunny had found his home.”
Esther ran her little fingers across the silky page. “Again?”
Salome walked into the living room, carrying two cups of hot chocolate, one in a light blue mug and the other in a foam cup with a lid. “Look what I have.” She nodded at her daughter as she raised the foam cup toward her. “But you’ll need to sit at the table with the coloring books.”
Esther smiled, and the scar that trailed down one side of her face contorted differently than the rest of the skin. “Iss es heiss?”
“Nee. It is fehlerfrei. Perfect.” Salome grinned. “Kumm.”
Esther put her arms around Ariana’s neck, once again telling her in Pennsylvania Dutch that she’d had the best time ever. She kissed her aunt and hopped down.
It had been a good visit. Ariana and Salome had talked endlessly, and Salome had been a patient listener as Ariana shared what her life had been like the last three months and all she’d done. They’d laughed about a thousand things from their childhood and seemed to talk every waking hour.
After Salome helped Esther get settled, she returned and sat. “This place is sheer luxury.”
Their time was drawing to a close. Salome’s bags were packed and waiting in the foyer, and the driver was on his way. Two of her three boys were running a fever and needed their Mamm.
“Luxury would be an overstatement, but it’s quaint with lots of comfortable space, and it’s well-run.”
“You’re different, Ari. These days you ponder every word, weighing its merit.”
“Do I?”
“Ya. It’s not a bad thing, just different. You didn’t used to think so deeply.”
“I had only two categories—good or bad, right or wrong.” Ariana leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. “My mind was so closed. And now it’s too open.”
Salome patted Ariana’s hand. “You’ll figure it out. I know you will.”
“I hope so.” Her lack of peace scattered her.
“You must think Quill can help, right?”
“Maybe. When I left home, he knew how hard a time I was having before I knew it. That night at the bar I told you about? He knew I’d had alcohol, and he knew I was unaware of it. When I realized that the next day, it was the beginning of me saying ‘enough!’ I demand to know myself.”
Salome giggled. “Ya, ’cause what’s the use of drinking if you’re not feeling it?”
Ariana laughed. “Exactly.” She reached for Salome’s hand. “There are no words to tell you how grateful and relieved I am that you and Emanuel are staying Amish.”
“Me too. It was all too much for me to cope with—the severity of Esther’s burns because of that stupid firepit, the pressure from the ministers and the community to treat the burns according to the Old Ways, the utter failure of the poultices to do what was promised, and the horrendous pain she endured—all to avoid using skin grafts and modern medicine.” Salome looked up, as if looking heavenward, shaking her head as she sighed. “I still deal with anger over the whole agonizing situation,” she confessed. “Anger with the ministers, the community, and Mamm and Daed, but most of all anger with our failure as parents by caving to the pressure.”
Ariana had tried to be a supportive, helpful sister, but she’d fallen short by a lot and ended up not being much more than a baby-sitter who watched as Salome slipped deeper and deeper into depression. She and Emanuel eventually reached out to Quill to help them leave. Before they could follow through, the family learned that Ariana wasn’t a Brenneman, and Ariana learned of Salome’s plan. Salome promised her she would remain Amish until Ariana returned.
“But, dear sister,”—Salome squeezed Ariana’s hand—“when you were jerked away from us, I realized how awful it would’ve been for Mamm and Daed if Emanuel and I and their grandchildren were to disappear during the night. The other side of that is I realized how much I need all of you.” Salome sipped her hot chocolate, looking lost in thought. “Regardless how much pressure the ministers and the community put on us, no one stood in the doorway stopping us from getting skin grafts. Emanuel and I caved under the weight of expectations, but we’ve vowed never to do that again.”
The remorse in Salome’s eyes was almost more than Ariana could bear.
Salome glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I was hoping to see Quill before we left, but he’s late. It’s almost six twenty, and the driver will be here in a few minutes.”
Ariana was sure Salome wanted to thank Quill for all he did to help them, from praying with them and gently trying to talk them out of leaving to paying out of his own pocket to rent them a home and get them a used vehicle.
“He’s a busy man, and I only texted him a—” Ariana’s breath caught in her throat. “Dad’s here.” She pointed at the check-in desk in the foyer. When had he decided to come? And why?
Salome turned. “Daed?”
“No, Nicholas.”
“Oh.” Salome sat up straight, checking on Esther. “Daed and dad sound very similar, and it’s just so weird hearing you call Nicholas ‘Dad.’ ”
“I don’t always. It just slips out at times.”
Nicholas had a pamphlet in hand, glancing at it and listening to a man pointing to things in the brochure. She didn’t know what they were discussing, but that was very Nicholas-like. If he came across anything unfamiliar, he took the time to learn about it.
Ariana shifted the baby to Salome. “My two dads are similar in some ways, especially when it comes to believing what they believe and wanting me to believe exactly as they do.”
“Then how on earth did you survive three months when he thinks so differently from the Amish? He doesn’t believe in God, does he?”
Ariana stood, straightening the wrinkles from her cape dress and apron. “In a nutshell I fell apart, and he did a one-eighty. Now he encourages me to be painfully honest about how I feel.”
“Ya, it makes sense that you like him. How else could you enjoy traveling the US with him the way you did?”
“Excuse me for a minute.” Ariana left the living room and entered the wide foyer with its white wainscoting, antique chandelier, and hardwood floors. “Hey.”
Nicholas turned. “There you are.” He hugged her.
“When did you get here?”
“About twenty minutes ago. You didn’t answer your phone, and I spotted a library and decided to make it useful. I found these.” He held up a stack of books. “This fine young employee saw me wandering around in the library, and he joined me. He’s been informing me about MAP. Apparently Scarlet Oak B&B is a sponsor.”
Of MAP? Her heart jolted. The website she’d accessed on her phone when looking for places to stay hadn’t mentioned anything about that. Mission to Amish People provided help to former Amish, usually older teens and young adults. It was founded in Ohio by an ex-Amish couple about sixteen years ago. If Daed or the church found out she’d stayed at a place that supported MAP, she would have to answer for it. What were the chances? It was bad luck, but she couldn’t undo having stayed here.
“I…I didn’t know you were coming.”
He pulled a credit card out of his pocket and passed it to the young man. “You would have if you’d taken my calls. Where’s your phone?”
She patted her hidden pocket and found it empty. “I’m sure it’s in my room. I had it out earlier, using the calculator.” She’d been studying the café’s ledgers, receipts, deposits, and bank statements, but the numbers didn’t add up.
“I won’t stay long. I just needed to see you.”
“I’m fine. I told you that when we talked Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and earlier today.”
“And yet I’m here, verifying those words.”
“That’s sweet, and thank you for paying for my stay.”
“It’s nothing. Seriously.”
The man passed Nicholas a small piece of paper and a pen. He signed and passed them back. She thought he’d told her earlier in the week that he’d already paid for everything via the phone but apparently not.
“Ari,” Salome whispered.
Ariana turned.
Salome had the baby in her arm and Esther by the hand. “I hate to interrupt, but my ride is here.”
“You’re a Brenneman,” Nicholas said. “You’re the one Skylar favors so much.”
“Ya on both accounts.”
Ariana made introductions.
“I’m glad we got to meet,” Salome said. “And I apologize that I have to dash like this, but I have two boys with a fever at home, and my driver is here.”
“Sure. No apologies,” Nicholas said. “Do you need a hand?”
“The driver will get my bags. But thank you.” Salome turned to Ariana. “I know Daed is expecting you to return with me. What do I tell him?”
“That I’ll be home by Sunday evening at the latest. It will save him some angst if he doesn’t know I have a cell phone, but tell him to call the B&B if he wants to talk to me.” Ariana hugged her and Esther.
The driver stepped in and grabbed Salome’s suitcases. As she was leaving, Quill walked in, and they stepped inside, getting out of the way of the foot traffic, and visited.
Nicholas examined Ariana. “You’re not surprised Quill is here.”
“I texted him, asking if we could talk.”
“Then I’ll go, but first…” Nicholas led her into the library. “I got this for you.” He held out a plastic card. “It’s a debit card.”
“No.” She held up both hands. “But thank you.”
“I was afraid you’d feel that way. There’s a thousand dollars in the account.” He held it out again. “Please.”
Temptation tugged at her. Even after she’d gone over a plastic grocery bag full of receipts for deposits and purchases made for the café, the account was still a mess. Between money spent and money missing, she’d yet to get the ledgers straight.
But accepting the card from him would be wrong. He carried a lot of guilt about his parenting of Skylar and her—or the lack of it—and she couldn’t allow herself to profit from that. The frustrating part was she shouldn’t need an outsider’s help. Farming and small businesses usually thrived among the Amish, but not for her family.
“Just take it. If you have it in hand, you can use it or not, right?”
“Goodness, you’re enough to drive me up a wall. Pushy on the one hand and so very generous on the other.”
He held the card out to her again.
“The money would come in handy.” She took the card. “Thank you.”
“It works as a debit or credit card, and you can get cash out of any ATM. You remember how to use an ATM, right?”
“Ya.”
He smiled. “I’ve missed that ya of yours.”
“It’s only been a few days since you dropped me off at my house.”
“But you’re here and not there. You should come back to my home or your mom’s. If you’re feeling oppressed, you should, and you need to—”
“Dad.” Her whisper sounded harsh, and she hadn’t meant for it to. She cleared her throat and started again. “I’m very grateful you paid for my stay here, and I appreciate the debit card, but you’re projecting how you think I feel based on me being here, and please don’t tell me what to feel or do.”
He stared blank faced for a moment and then smiled. “Good for you, Ari.” He kissed her cheek. “You call me if you need anything. Okay?”
“I’m an adult, and what I need is to pull myself together and not ask anything else of you.”
“That’s nonsense. You’re my daughter, my only flesh and blood. Skylar is mine too, although she isn’t claiming me.”
Ariana could see the pain in his eyes as he paused.
He cleared his throat. “The PIN is 9874. I can text it to you.” His eyes moved to the doorway. “Quill,”—Nicholas walked to him and shook his hand—“it’s good to see you.”
“Thanks. I’m surprised you’re here.”
“Ditto.” Nicholas hooked his thumb toward the door. “I need to go. Good luck. As I understand it, you’re here to talk, but she doesn’t want any opinions. That should be quite a feat.” Nicholas winked at Ariana. “I’m proud of you.”
What was he proud of her for? Asking for money so she could stay here? Accepting a debit card? Pushing him to get her home, and then her being so overwhelmed she couldn’t stay? There was nothing to be proud of. But being impolite would only add to her disappointment in herself.
She drew a breath. “Thank you…for everything.”