A Simple Charity (30 page)

Will nodded. “I don’t think she expected anything like this.”

“I didn’t.” Fanny folded her arms against the cold, though it felt a bit refreshing after the close warmth of the house. “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. So nicely built. And Will knows how I enjoy birding.”

“This is a good thing for the center,” Emma said. “When children come to visit, they can add seed for the birds.”

“Very sturdy,” said Zed’s mother, Rose.

His dat agreed. “And the shingles will keep the roof from rotting. It’s good to build something that will last.” Ira nodded at the carriage house. “Let’s hope you’ve made the new center as sturdy as
this little house,” he teased. “Tiles on the roof. Do the birds really need that? Don’t they fly in the rain?”

Fanny chuckled along with Ira and Rose.

Zed had his hands on his hips, but from his smile it was clear that he also enjoyed his father’s joke. “You see, Dat, the birds don’t mind the rain, but if there’s no roof, the squirrels will be jumping in to steal all the seed.”

“A good point.” Ira knocked on the side of the birdhouse. “Ya, good quality.”

“I think the birds will like it,” Will said.

Behind the group, Fanny noticed a gray buggy approaching, though she didn’t recognize the driver. When Caleb came out of the house to greet the carriage, she realized that it was his friend Kate and the Fisher women, a group that would include her former mother-in-law. She turned back to the chatter about the birdhouse, determined not to stare, but soon she heard shoes crunching on gravel behind her. She braced herself to welcome the women who had caused some difficult times for her.

“Fanny,” Caleb called, “the Fishers have brought some treats from the bakery.”

“That was kind of you.” Fanny smiled at the three women, but only two returned the warm greeting. What was it about Joan Fisher’s mouth that kept it too stiff to curve into a happy expression?

Although she knew these women and saw them at church every other week, she did her best to avoid most of the Fisher clan. She was glad that Kate’s mother, Lydia, had come along, as the woman had a gift for gab and kept the conversation rolling like a smooth marble.

As Fanny chatted with the visitors, she caught a thorough glimpse of Kate Fisher, a tall young woman with a broad face that seemed to be lit with a permanent smile. It was as if the joy inside
her shone out to the world through her face. Fanny could see why Caleb liked her. Strong, serious Caleb kept his eyes on the ground while plodding ahead. He needed someone to help him look up at the sky and find joy in each day, and Kate’s smile was contagious.

“That’s quite a fancy birdhouse you’ve got there,” Joan said, speaking up for the first time. “Must have cost you quite a bit.”

Will glanced up from the birdhouse, where he was showing Ira how the floor slid out for cleaning.

Fanny suspected that Joan was joking, as Amish folks did not spend much money on decorative things like birdhouses. But Joan’s expression was unreadable, flat as a stone.

“It was a Christmas gift from my son,” Fanny said.

“I made it,” Will piped up.

“With some help from Zed, of course.” Fanny glanced up at Zed, who watched with a cool expression.

“Makes a person wonder why you didn’t make something Plain.” Joan’s lips puckered in disapproval. “You could get a small, simple birdhouse at the hardware store, probably for half of what this cost to make.”

But you can’t put a price on the tender care that went into its preparation. The attention showered on a young boy. The quiet time together. The learning of a skill
. Fanny was on the verge of pointing these things out to Joan, but she didn’t want to cross the woman. She had promised herself that she would try to smooth things over, for Caleb’s sake.

“Look at those curved doors.” Joan’s face puckered with disdain. “Birds don’t need doors.”

“But they’re just like the doors on the birthing center,” Kate pointed out, a gentle glimmer in her eyes. “It will serve the birds well, and I think folks will smile when they see it.”

Kate’s words swept over the group like a spring breeze, bringing ease to the conversation. It was simple to see why Caleb enjoyed spending time with this bright-eyed young woman.

“There’s nothing like birdsong in the morning to brighten your day,” Lydia said. “We have a seed cake in view from our kitchen window, and I enjoy watching the small birds swoop down on it, their little heads bobbing as they peck away.”

“Isn’t it wonderful, Gott’s creatures all around us,” Rose added, folding her arms against the cold.

“You’re shivering, Rose.” Fanny patted the older woman’s arm. “Let’s all get inside where it’s cozy. I’m ready for some hot apple cider.”

As the group made its way in, Will came to Fanny’s side and took her hand. He waited until the Fishers ducked inside, then turned up to her and whispered, “Is the birdhouse too fancy, Mamm?”

“No, Will. It’s as Plain as our carriage house. You worked hard on it, and there’s no shame in that.” She squeezed his shoulder, reassuring him. “It’s a wonderful good gift.”

With a grin, he stepped over the threshold and bounded over to play with his cousins, leaving Fanny relieved that she could undo the damage Joan had done. At least this time.

Although Fanny enjoyed having family and friends visit, she knew all good times had to come to an end. Already Gabe and Emma had gone home, as Emma and the children would return to school in the morning. Tom’s brother Jimmy had gone out to get their buggy, and Fanny was wrapping half a chocolate chip pie and some cookies for them to take home.

“Don’t forget the crybaby cookies,” Edna said. “They’re my favorites.”

“And to think I almost didn’t make them,” Fanny teased. The simple cookies, flavored with leftover coffee, were not traditional holiday fare, but they were easy enough to bake. She added a few
extras for her dear friend and covered the plate with tin foil. “There you go.”

“I’m sorry to see the day end.” Edna smoothed her fingers over the little pink scar on her chin—a habit from childhood, when a fall from a scooter had required stitches to heal the cut. One day, when Edna had confided that she was self-conscious about the scar, Fanny had taken a red pen and put a little squiggle of ink on her own chin, just to show Edna that the mark was barely noticeable. “It’s been good to spend time with family and friends that we don’t get to see often,” Edna added.

“I hope we don’t wait until next second Christmas to get together again,” said Fanny. “Though both of us have had a busy year. You’ve been caring for James, and I’ve been trying to make do without Tom.”

“A sad year, indeed, but I’m glad to put it behind us. And I’m back to my old daily routine now that James and Rachel are married. Rachel takes James to the clinic every day, and he’s learned to move about with only crutches or a walker, thank the Almighty. You know, he came here tonight without a wheelchair, in the buggy. He’s a determined young man.”

“Gott bless him,” Fanny said. “And does he get around the orchard, too?”

“Oh, he’s been out there ever since he could move his own wheelchair, though there’s not much need for it this time of year.” Edna cradled the plate of cookies. “Let’s get together soon, Fanny. Bring Beth and Tommy over and we’ll do some sewing. Or I’ll come help you finish setting up the birth center. I’m sure there’ll be windows to wash and curtains to hang.”

“That would be wonderful, Edna. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.” As Fanny squeezed her sister-in-law’s shoulder, she realized she did have some women here in Halfway who were like sisters to her.
She simply had to find the time to enjoy some fellowship with them.

She walked out, arm in arm with Edna. Edna’s daughter Verena was shepherding the younger ones into the buggy. The teens, who were now playing games in the buggy garage, would be staying on for a while. With the noise contained in a separate building, Fanny didn’t mind if they extended the celebration.

“Tell Zed I’m serious about donating that newel post to the center,” Jimmy said when Fanny approached the buggy. “We had to take it down to fit the wheelchair and ramp, and now it’s just sitting out in our barn, no good to no one.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him.” Fanny smiled and watched as the Lapps’ buggy rolled down the lane. Her arms were crossed against the chilly night, but she didn’t feel the cold so much. Not quite ready to return to the crowd in her house, she gazed up at the sky with its gleaming stars. It had been a good Christmas, and she was grateful to have a loving family and kind friends.

So grateful to be loved.

Edna had been right about putting the sadness behind her. A new year was coming, a year of many miracles, if she could count the babies about to be born in their community.

The first year that they would have the birthing center. She gave a happy sigh at the sight of the old carriage house with its sparkling white trim and shiny windows. Inside those walls, good things were about to happen.

A dim light flickered from the window of the carriage house; someone was inside. Of course, it would be Zed. She hadn’t noticed him in the house for a while. Having been away from the community for so long, Zed sometimes felt uncomfortable at big gatherings. And with so many tasks still to be completed in the center, he would have retreated from the gathering to tinker a bit.

She had half expected that. This morning, when she had come across the gift she had wrapped for him, she had decided to leave it in the carriage house. That way they would avoid the eyes of folks who didn’t understand that Zed had become a part of their family.

The cold night, the relief of a gathering that had gone well, and the excitement of Zed finding his gift made her giddy as she hurried to the birthing center and pushed open the door. “Merry Christmas,” she called.

“So you found me.” He held up his hands, revealing the kid leather gloves. “And I found these. A perfect fit. Denki.”

Somehow she’d known they would fit. She had watched him work for so long that she carried the image of his hands in her memory. “I thought of you when I saw them. They might come in handy for some of the rough jobs.”

“These gloves will get plenty of use.” He slid one of them off. “But I’m not doing any heavy work tonight. Would you hand me the tape measure from the workbench?”

She found the yellow case and brought it to him.

“I need to measure the stairs. There’s an old newel post that Jimmy Lapp is giving away, and I think it would fit fine right here. We need something to anchor our handrail, but we can’t afford much more than a wood post.”

“Jimmy mentioned that. He was hoping we could use it.”

Zed retracted the yellow metal tape with a nod. “It would be the right height. I’ll pick it up from the orchard tomorrow.”

“A newel post.” Fanny rubbed her cold hands together as she stepped back from the stairs. “I didn’t think we’d have anything so nice.” She held her arms out, encompassing the floors, the walls, the kitchen. “It’s all so wonderful good, Zed. From floor to ceiling, the place is neat and tidy, but cozy, too. And we have you to thank for making it so.”

“I’m just the handyman,” he said, leaning back on the sawhorse.
“You came up with the notion of making the building a birthing center. A very good idea, but I hope the other mothers wait until I’m done with the renovations before they come in here to use it.”

The light laughter came easily between them. “The mothers need this place,” she said as she perched beside him on the sawhorse. “And it’s really going to happen. It does my heart good to know that something wonderful will come of this building, thanks to you.”

The kerosene lamp sizzled for a moment, and when they both turned to look at it, she caught his profile: square chin, bold cheekbones, and dark ridges of shadow around his eyes. Zed had thoughtful eyes. Her mamm used to say that eyes were the window to the soul. If that was true, Zed was a man who cared for others, a man who chose his words carefully so they didn’t hurt anyone. He was such a part of her life, such a part of each and every day. How could she let him go?

“The work is almost done here,” she said, giving voice to her fears. “You must be eager to move on. Take a real job on a crew. A job with good pay.”

He rose to check the lamp, then turned back to face her. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“I’m sure you’ll get some offers soon.” It was harder to say these things when she was facing him; he was sure to recognize the truth behind her words. He would know she didn’t want him to leave. “Now that you’re baptized and folks have begun to bring you back into the flock. It takes time for some folks to warm up, but they’ll come around. And once they get a look at the quality of work on this place …” The thickness in her throat was making her hoarse. “After this, the best builders will want to hire you.”

“There are good jobs out there,” he admitted, “but I’ll never find a job as good as this, working for you. Your house has been a good fit for me, like those gloves.”

“Oh, Zed …” Sorrow was a bitter, flat taste on the back of the tongue. It welled up inside her and she pressed her hands to his broad chest, as if she could stop him from leaving. “I don’t want you to go.”