CHAPTER 26

With Rhoda directing me, I laid flatware on the table. Lizzie sashayed into the kitchen and took over, her movements graceful and automatic from a lifetime in this room. I wondered if she planned to make this her last meal here. Should I mention to Rhoda my suspicions that Lizzie was planning to run away? Maybe Rhoda already suspected.

“I could hear Bishop Troyer’s and Dat’s voices.” Lizzie cut whole-wheat bread without looking down to measure her even slices.

“They were talking to my father,” I said.

“I hope Dat got everything squared away with the bishop.”

“Yah, I think so,” Rhoda said, “but I don’t know the details.”

Would I be here in two weeks when Reuben confessed his sins? Unlikely, and I wasn’t a church member, so I doubted I’d be allowed to stay to listen to him anyway. The image of a humble Reuben on his knees refused to gel in my mind. How about my father? He was nowhere near ready to lay out all his sins. And even if he did, could I forgive him? I recalled reciting the Lord’s Prayer in church: forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

I couldn’t think of anything I needed to be forgiven for, which was probably a sin in itself.

Humming, Lizzie splayed the slices of bread on a plate and placed it on the table next to the butter and an assortment of jams and jellies. “How’s about going to the Singing tonight, Sally?” she said to me.

“Only if Armin really wants to, and I don’t think he does. Would you like to hear my opinion?”

“Nee, denki. I’m sure you have good enough reasons.” Lizzie straightened the flatware I’d put out like soldiers in formation.

Reuben lumbered into the room and stood near the table. He looked dazed, oblivious to Lizzie, Rhoda, and me.

Minutes later, Bishop Troyer came into the kitchen wearing a dour expression.

“Would you like to stay for supper?” Rhoda asked him in monotone. “Nothing special, but we’d be happy to have you.”

“Thank you, but I must get home. My sons do the milking, but my Lillian will start fretting about me.”

Rhoda gazed up into his somber face and asked, “Would you let me know about donating a kidney?”

“It seems you’re getting ahead of yourself, Rhoda. But I’ll not discourage Ezekiel from seeking medical help. I doubt I have much influence over him. Although, I did sense a mellowing in him.”

“It was kind of you to pay us a visit,” Rhoda said. “Ich bedank mich.”

“Yah, thank you,” Reuben muttered. “I’ll come outside with you to make sure my sons get your horse from the barn.”

“No, thank you. I can do it myself.” He put on his coat and hat, and left. As soon as the bishop was outside, the house seemed to let out its breath, some of the tense air leaving with him.

“Does Armin eat with you every night?” I asked.

“Usually.” The corners of Reuben’s mouth tipped down—a look of disapproval souring his face. “But he has Amish friends.” It was obvious that he wanted my father and me out of this house immediately. We were nothing but a bad influence on his family; that was a truth. And yet he must’ve known his daughter had enticed me in to coming here. That tangle of oblique happenstance still rocketed through my mind.

“Sally is going to work in the store tomorrow,” Lizzie said, her voice aflutter.

“I suppose I’d rather have her working there than you, Lizzie,” Reuben said.

I glanced down at my apron. “But what will I wear?”

“Ach, Sally, I’m sorry I forgot to wash your clothing yesterday,” Rhoda told me. “How could I let myself get so verhoodled? Tomorrow is laundry day.”

“But she looks so pretty dressed this away.” Lizzie clasped her hands together at chest level. “Those tourists won’t know the difference.”

Reuben harrumphed.

“If I dress Amish, the bishop’s wife is sure to stop by again and then report me to her husband,” I told Lizzie. “He informed me it was wrong to pretend to be Amish to make money.”

“But surely she can work at the shop.” Lizzie laced her fingers together, rested her chin on them. “Sally said she needs the money.”

I had? Maybe I did mention my financial crisis when admiring the books.

Reuben rotated his head toward Rhoda. “I’m going to read Family Life, unless you gave that magazine to your Bruder too.”

“Nee, it’s right on the table.” Rhoda followed him into the living room.

Lizzie grinned. “Then it’s all set,” she said to me. “We’ll ask Armin or one of my brothers to give you a ride tomorrow morning.”

“But I have a car again,” I said. “As long as the streets aren’t too slick.”

“They’ll still be icy. And don’t you prefer the buggy?”

“I guess.” It might be my last chance. “But what should I wear? Bishop Troyer said I shouldn’t dress Amish at work.”

Lizzie sidled over to me and spoke into my ear, “Never ya mind. I have a stash upstairs.”

“Of clothing my size?”

“Yah, that I picked up here and there.”

“I know all about them.” Rhoda strode back into the room. “It’s time to get rid of those fancy Englisch outfits. Your running-around days are officially over.”

Lizzie shrank back. “Yes, Mamm.”

If Rhoda knew half the story, she’d be appalled. I weighed my options. To whom did I hold my allegiance? To crafty Lizzie or faithful Rhoda, who’d demonstrated loyalty to Pops and to me?

“Mrs. Martin is going to be so grateful you’ll be working for her,” Lizzie told me, sidestepping her mother’s queries.

“Are you sure your clothes will fit me?” I asked.

“Yah, upstairs I’ve got a green mid-calf length skirt with an elastic waist, a blouse, and a knit top that are all too big for me.”

Rhoda shook her head. “You’re putting Sally in an awkward position.”

I juggled the pros and cons. Pops would be here in the morning when I woke up. If I worked at the secondhand store, I’d have something to fill my day other than trying to cajole him into seeing a doctor and fretting. And maybe I’d get to know some of the locals who would remember Mavis Miller—if that were indeed her name. If her parents were still alive, I imagined myself going to their home and having them turn me away in disbelief. But I was determined to persevere until I exhumed the truth.

“Do I have time to take Sally up and show her the clothes?” Lizzie asked. “Nee, I should call Mrs. Martin first.”

“Use the phone shanty on a night like this?” Rhoda brought napkins to the table.

“Want to use my cell phone?” I asked.

“Not in the house.” She jabbed her arms into her coat sleeves and grabbed her hat. “I can find the way. I did all winter. I’ll take the flashlight with the new batteries.” Her voice sounded joyous, as if she had the best news in the world to impart.

“Should I bring Ginger with me?” I wondered aloud. “Or is she better off here?”

“Armin wouldn’t mind, Sally,” Lizzie said. “You want to come out with me and ask him?”

Rhoda linked her arm through the crook of my elbow. “Sally should stay here with me. But hurry, will ya, Lizzie, so you don’t keep your father waiting on his meal when Jeremy and Peter are done milking.”

Lizzie skittered out the back door. I felt as though I’d been set up like a pawn in an ill-fated chess game. But I actually looked forward to working in the store again.

“I’ll make up a plate of supper for Ezekiel and bring it in to him.” Rhoda winked. “And whilst I’m in there, I’ll take the keys to his automobile for safekeeping so he doesn’t try leaving during the night.”