A Simple Charity (38 page)

“Okay.” Enthusiasm flashed in Shandell’s eyes. Her obsidian hair was braided and piled atop her head, giving her an elfin appearance. “The seams are done, but I can always take them in a little if need be.”

“Oooh.” Zoey’s face was lit with approval as she smiled up at the dress.

Even on its hanger, the dress had a lovely shape. It was a basic A-line with an empire waist made of wide satin ribbon, which Shandell had stitched in on the top. “Let’s try it on,” Meg said.

“First let me unpin the back. That’s where the zipper goes.” Shandell helped Meg slide it over her head, then pinched the back together and slipped in some pins.

“Shandell! You have really outdone yourself. Meg, honey, you look beautiful!”

Meg turned to Shandell. “Does she think I’m usually ugly?” she teased.

Shandell laughed as Zoey sought to correct the impression. “No, no, it’s just that you almost never dress up, and when you do, this is the look that works for you. A-line, sophisticated yet simple. I love it.”

Facing the mirror, Meg took a breath and smiled. “I do, too.”

“I would recommend adding some sleeves,” Zoey said, dabbing at Grace’s mouth with a cloth diaper. “You are getting married in March, and it’s bound to be chilly.”

“The dress has sleeves, gathered at the shoulder then tapered,” Shandell reported. “So you really like it?” When Meg nodded,
Shandell pressed a hand to her chest and let out a breath. “I am so relieved! I’ve been reading so many stories of crazy bridezillas who change their minds, I was beginning to worry.”

“Meg is no bridezilla,” Zoey said. “If anything went wrong, she’d walk down the aisle in her midwife uniform. Jeans, cotton top, and down vest.”

“I would not.” Meg nudged her sister on the shoulder as a tap sounded on the door.

“Are you dressed?” Tate asked as the door swung open a few inches. “Meg? There’s someone here to see you.”

Zoey made a shooing motion with her free hand. “Don’t let Jack in! He can’t see the gown before the wedding.”

“It’s not Jack. It’s a … a Ms. Engles.”

“Who?” Meg hoped that a laboring woman hadn’t dropped in on her, but she had no one by that name under her care.

The door opened wide, revealing a polished young woman with flawless skin and hair the color of spun gold. “Actually, you don’t know me.” Ms. Engles scanned the room, taking in the three women. She quickly dismissed Zoey nursing on the couch, eyed Shandell a minute, and then latched on to Meg.

“You’re Meg, right?” she asked, shifting her pose the way models do on the runway. Dressed in that short leather jacket and skinny jeans, she wouldn’t last twenty minutes out here in the Lancaster winter.

“I am.” At a disadvantage in her scrapped-together gown, Meg lifted her chin. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m Lisa Engles, Jack Woods’s fiancée. And I’ve come to ask you,
politely
, to back away from my guy.”

32

A
s she chased little Tom down the path, Fanny was glad that this week’s church was at Edna Lapp’s home. The wide lawn and trails into the orchards gave folks plenty of room to stretch out, and with her good friend so busy hosting, there would be little time for personal conversation. In the few hours she had spent with Edna, Fanny had felt too ashamed to speak of her mistake, but also guilty that she couldn’t trust in her friend. It was still hard to look folks in the eye, always afraid of what they had heard and what they were thinking of her.

Tommy toddled over to a flowerpot with a small evergreen shrub in it, and Fanny hovered over him, smoothing down his shiny hair. “You’re going to want to leave that alone,” she said. “It’s prickly.”

“Look at this one, working on Edna’s planter.” Rose Miller bent down and bussed Tommy on the chin. “He’s getting big, Fanny. Walking already?”

“Ya, he keeps us on our toes. He’ll be one this month.” Fanny kept her eyes averted from Rose. This woman had shown her a world of kindness. When Tom passed, Rose and her husband, Ira, had managed everything for Fanny’s family, arranging meals and taking care of the household so that Fanny and her children could mourn Tom.

“The years fly by us like a flock of birds. But look at you, skin pale as the moon. Are you feeling all right, Fanny?”

“Nothing wrong with me,” Fanny answered, trying to sound cheerful.

“Maybe it’s the black dress you’re wearing. Still in mourning? It’s been more than a year since Tom died, hasn’t it?”

“Ya. About two weeks ago, on the anniversary of his death, our little family remembered him with prayers.” She told Rose how Elsie and Emma had both read from the Bible, and Will and Beth had sung “This Little Light of Mine, I’m Gonna Let It Shine,” which Tom used to sing with the little ones at bedtime. “Then we played a few rounds of Jenga, which Tom so enjoyed.”

“That sounds like a fitting way to remember him.” She leaned down to Tommy. “It makes me sad that you never got to meet your father.”

Grinning up at Rose, he offered her a fistful of mulch from Edna’s planter.

“No, thank you, boy. You can give that back to the bush.” There was such a lighthearted lilt in Rose’s voice that Fanny felt encouraged to face her. When she did, she saw Zed’s eyes, warm and dark as molasses. Oh, how she wished she could sit with Rose over a cup of coffee and talk, really talk.

“Fanny?” A woman’s voice called to her.

Both Rose and Fanny turned to see Anna Beiler walking along the path gingerly. “If you two wander any farther out, they’ll put you to work in the orchard,” said Anna.

Having come to appreciate the midwife’s wry sense of humor, Fanny smiled. “How’s your ankle, Anna?”

“Doc Trueherz says it’s healed, but it starts acting up whenever there’s a snowstorm coming.”

“Saves you a trip to the window, I guess,” Rose said, and the two older women shared a chuckle.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Fanny,” Anna said, a serious cast to her tone now. “We need to talk.”

About the gossip. Anna had heard. She was disgraced.

Fanny dropped to her knees behind her son to hide the distress that weighed her down.

“It’s time to see if there’s any more coffee left,” Rose said, heading back toward the house.

“There’s something I think you need to know.”

Anna’s hand rested on Fanny’s shoulder, probably because Fanny was still on her knees, and Anna wanted to maintain her balance. Still, the motherly touch stirred Fanny’s emotions.

“Being laid up in a cast has given me plenty of time to think, and I can see that the life of a midwife takes more get-up-and-go than I have inside me. I’ve already cut down my schedule a lot, but I’m going to be sending all the women to the birth center from now on. I’m through.”

“Oh, dear, no.” Fanny rose to face Anna, taking her hand. “We need you at the center, Anna. Please don’t leave us.” Fanny had counted on working with Anna, partly to gain acceptance from the Amish community. “Doc Trueherz thought it was a good plan, and the center is close enough that you can even walk, now that your ankle is healed.”

“Ya, it’s nice and close. But these old bones can’t take the cold and the long hours of waiting on mamms. You’ve got that English midwife, ya? And Doc is happy to come to the center. You’ll be fine on your own.”

Thoughts raced through Fanny’s mind like a blizzard wind. So it
was
about the gossip. Anna was separating from her because of Fanny’s bad reputation. “Is it … is it something I’ve done?”

Of course it is
. Dorcas’s cruel words pounded in her head as if they were being punched into a batch of dough.
Caught kissing a man when you’ve barely said good-bye to your husband
.

Anna’s stern face softened as she blinked up at Fanny in surprise. “Nothing you’ve done, honeygirl. I can’t do it anymore. Seventy-four and my legs and back are so sore, you’d think I’d been kicked by a mule. Doc says it’s time I got off my feet, time to get some regular sleep.”

“Ya, your health is important. It’s just that … I don’t know what we’ll do without you.”

“You’ll do fine,” Anna insisted. “Women love the place already, and you’ve been getting more and more experience.”

Although Fanny was relieved that Anna had not turned against her because of the rumors, the prospect of running the center without Anna’s help was frightening. Sure, Doc Trueherz and Meg would be on call to do most of the deliveries, but with her family to care for, Fanny could not handle being the only Amish midwife in town. And the chores at the center—the cooking and cleaning, not to mention sanitizing blankets and sheets in the oven—it was too much for one woman to manage.

“Please,” she asked Anna, “won’t you reconsider?”

“The Bible says, ‘To every thing there is a season,’ and my time as a midwife has run its course.” Anna patted Fanny on the arm. “Don’t fret, honeygirl. Gott will provide. Have faith.”

33

M
eg stared at the bold, beautiful woman who had made the trip out here from Philadelphia.
The ex-fiancée, “ex” being the important part of that word
. Meg had to hold on to that fact to stay on solid ground. “Why are you here?”

“I came to ask you a favor, woman to woman.” Lisa pressed her hands together in prayer position and held them to her heart. “Would you please back off and give Jack and me a chance?”

Meg smoothed down her dress as she took in the elegant woman with earnest eyes. If nothing else, Lisa deserved an acting award. She had a knack for stealing the show.

But none of this was real, was it? Was this some psychotic episode that Lisa was having—or simply a master manipulation to end Jack’s happiness?

“See, I’ve had a change of heart. I’m ready to make a go of it with Jack, gonna give it the old one hundred percent. Jack is thrilled,
of course. Couldn’t be happier. But you know how he is—such a marshmallow. He doesn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s over.”

“Really.” Meg wasn’t buying any of it, but she wasn’t going to argue with Lisa. There would be no coin toss or arm-wrestling tournament to see who won the boyfriend. This was not a competition for Jack’s affection; Meg was secure in her relationship with him.

Lisa was moving through the room now, checking it out as if she was a potential buyer. Zoey pulled a receiving blanket over Grace’s head, as if to protect the baby from a wandering menace. Meg didn’t blame her.