A Simple Charity (40 page)

Across the table sat Caleb with his friend Kate. The girl was not afraid to get her hands dirty; Fanny had seen her moving buckets in the women’s line, working tirelessly for the hour or two that it had taken to douse the fire.

Meg had brought over a dozen doughnuts, and Elsie had baked a lazy woman’s cake—a very basic sheet cake with cocoa flavoring. Elsie had also brewed a pot of coffee, and there was a pan of warm apple cider on the stove. Folks sure seemed grateful for a bit of something sweet and the chance to sit for a moment.

The fire chief and one of the firemen came in from the mud porch. They stowed their long flashlights in their belts and accepted cups of coffee from Elsie.

The chief took the empty seat at the table. “We’re trying to track down the cause of the fire, and it’s clear that it originated in the rear of the building—the kitchen area.”

The other firefighter stared into his mug. “A couple of people heard the explosion.”

Fanny nodded. “Our neighbors heard it and came running. What was it that exploded?”

“An older model gas-powered refrigerator,” George said. “Looks like that was what caused the explosion. Sometimes all it takes is a spark to set something like this off. Where did you buy the refrigerator?”

Zed caught Fanny’s eye, and she understood the need to keep this to themselves.

“All of our appliances were donations,” she said. She knew full well that John Zook, Ruben’s father, had donated that refrigerator,
but she wasn’t going to mention him by name. John Zook and his family weren’t to blame. No one was to blame.

“These things happen,” said Caleb. “Dave Zook was just telling me about a similar explosion a few years ago near Lititz. Things can go very wrong with gas.”

“Thanks be to Gott that no one was in the building,” Zed said. “No one was hurt.”

George sat back in the chair with a heavy breath. “That’s the silver lining in the cloud.” He used his mug to point to the people in the room. “You can’t replace people. But property damage? With enough time and money, it can be restored.”

The fire chief’s comment opened the door to talk of renovation.

Fanny closed her eyes and tried not to see the gaping black giant next door as they talked of clearing the lot and raising a new building. Costly building estimates were tossed back and forth as if they were as light as a Ping-Pong ball.

“There’s no question about it,” Caleb said, “we must rebuild.”

Fanny opened her eyes to stare at her son. And where did he think their family would get that kind of money?

Kate talked about the high expense of a renovation done in the bakery kitchen a few years back. Zed and Caleb and the fireman debated whether one story or two stories would be cheaper.

When the conversation began to unravel and folks started leaving, Fanny was relieved. The incident had shaken her to the core, and she needed some sleep and time to consider Gott’s plan for her family.

The firemen left. The front room began to empty out, and Caleb went outside to help Kate with her buggy. The bishop came into the kitchen to say good-bye, and then he slipped out the back door and it was just Elsie, Zed, and Fanny in the kitchen.

Fanny craned her neck, trying to twist out the kinks of stress. “So much talk about rebuilding. No one’s paying attention to what’s right in front of us. This fire was Gott’s doing. Shouldn’t we learn
from that? I think Gott’s telling us there shouldn’t be a birth center in Halfway.”

Elsie and Zed exchanged a look of surprise.

Zed’s voice was laced with calm. “Sometimes bad things happen, and it’s Gott’s way of testing us.”

“I think this is a challenge,” Elsie agreed. “The center is a wonderful good thing for our community. Doc Trueherz says it makes for healthy babies and happy mamms.”

“Change isn’t always a good thing.” Fanny’s mind was a jumble of thoughts, a tangle of colorful yarns that just could not be sorted or straightened. First, Anna was quitting, and now the fire … the center was gone. Maybe Gott didn’t mean her to have a successful center. After all, it was a business. Maybe she’d been a little too proud of the popularity and early success of the birthing center.

“It’s a setback,” Zed agreed.

Fanny pressed her palms to the table, trying to gain comfort from the nicks and scars of its surface as she faced Zed. “You remodeled nearly every inch of that building, and it’s gone now,” she said, struggling to keep the catch of emotion from her voice. “Can you really start all over? This time without even a shell? Without a roof over your head?”

“It’s a setback, all right. A big disappointment. But the building was just wood and nails; it can be replaced.”

“How can you bear it when you worked so hard?” Fanny asked sadly.

“One step at a time,” Zed said. “Remember? It’s like following a recipe. You trim some boards and hammer some nails. Work hard and at the end of the day, you see progress.”

“But progress was not part of Gott’s plan for the clinic,” Fanny insisted. The harsh truth throbbed like a wound in her heart. “Gott burned it down, and Gott doesn’t make mistakes. The dream is over … ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

35

F
ive o’clock came far too early when you were up until ten or eleven trying to support and comfort a friend in need. Rolling over, Meg realized her hair smelled like the black smoke of the fire. She needed a shower before she left for the clinic in Lancaster. A shower but no food or drink—doctor’s orders.

Tired, hungry, and thirsty, Meg pushed herself out of bed and checked her cell phone. Still no word from Jack.

Her worry had morphed into distress. What if something had happened to him? A slippery stretch of road, a moment of distraction while driving. Bad things happened to good people all the time, as evidenced by the fire at the birthing center.

As she stepped into the shower, her worry was compounded by the memory of the fire. What would come of Fanny’s idea to have a place for the women of Halfway to go? It certainly would have been convenient for Meg and Dr. Trueherz, as well as the women.
Meg hoped Fanny could find a way to continue the good she had done for the community.

And Fanny herself … how was she holding up? Last night she had seemed dazed, understandably so. There would have been no insurance on the building, as it was not the Amish way. The fire would pose a huge hardship for Fanny’s family. Right now Meg could only pray for her friend’s well-being and peace.

Last night, when Halfway was in crisis, Deputy Jack was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared for an emergency, something involving Lisa; that much, she was sure of. But why was he out of touch? Last night, just before bed, she had broken down and called Kat. “I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I’m sure he’s not dodging you. He’s crazy about you, and Jack is extremely loyal.” Meg’s speculation that Lisa had been in crisis made sense. It all added up. They figured Lisa had come to town on a mission to win Jack back and then … what?

Insecurity needled away at Meg’s faith in Jack. Whatever the circumstances, he could have at least shot her a few details in a text message. Was it too much to hope for a contrite phone call?

This wasn’t the Jack she knew. Then again, maybe she didn’t know Jack all that well, after all.

She quickly dressed and met Shandell in the kitchen. The Jordans’ wing off the kitchen was quiet, and Meg was relieved that Grace was letting Zoey and Tate get their sleep, at least for now. Tate would be up soon enough, putting together breakfast for his family and guests.

With Shandell in the driver’s seat of Meg’s Subaru, Meg turned on the seat warmer and tried to sink down into herself.

“Are you okay?” Shandell asked as she braked for a light on Halfway’s Main Street.

“Just tired.” Meg watched the door of the sheriff’s office, willing Jack to emerge and wave. No such luck. Except for the lights in the
bakery and a few Amish buggies on the road, Halfway was still waking up at 5:30
A.M.

Shandell took a sip from her travel cup, then tentatively jabbed it toward the console, trying to find the cup holder without taking her eyes off the road. “Couldn’t sleep last night?”

“I was up late last night with the fire.”

“Fire? Was there a fire at the inn?”

Of course, Shandell hadn’t heard yet. She’d been with her mother, and word among the English didn’t travel quite so fast. “There was this explosion, and Tate and I grabbed our coats and went outside to check it out …” Meg let the story spill out, pacing herself. With any luck, news of the fire would take up the half-hour trip to the hospital in Lancaster, and Shandell wouldn’t have a chance to ask her about the upshot of Lisa’s surprise visit yesterday. Right now she didn’t want to discuss the fact that she couldn’t reach her fiancé. It was embarrassing and painful.

Chatting about the uncertain future of the birthing center, Meg eyed Shandell’s travel mug with envy. How she would love a sip … if only to wash down her anxiety.

If the procedure went well, Meg would be checked out in the early afternoon and sent home for a week of taking it easy. Anxiety curled deep inside her at the prospect of being alone once Shandell brought her back to the bed-and-breakfast. Meg tried to imagine Jack waiting there for her, greeting her with a perfectly logical explanation, but that felt like a sugar-coated fantasy. In the real world, when people let you down, they were sending a very clear message of withdrawal and rejection.

But that wasn’t Jack. Looking back on her time with him, she didn’t see any signs of erratic behavior, nothing to indicate that he would let her down like this. With a deep breath, she sent up a little prayer that Jack was all right, and that they would find each other on the other side of this mountain that separated them.

36

A
lthough both Caleb and Elsie had offered to take Will to school the morning after the fire, Fanny had wanted the time to herself. Few things calmed the mind like a buggy ride with its rhythmic rocking and the steady patter of the horse’s hooves on the road.

“Why do I have to go to school?” Will lamented as they rolled down the lane. “Can’t I stay home and help with the cleanup? Zed always says I’m a right good helper.”