Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (5 page)

She bumped into him with her shoulder. “Don’t compare me to your old Lou.”

“It’s actually a compliment. I like old Lou. You’re both just stubborn.”

“So you like me too?”

“Except when you’re so mad you’re kicking the wagon wheel.”

He knew her too well. She clamped her lips together and fixed her gaze on some little children chasing each other around the wagons.

“Well?” He nudged her with his elbow.

“Jonathon Yoder, don’t you know when you’re being a pest?”

“Nee, I guess not.” Shading his eyes, he watched two young men his age play catch with an overripe pumpkin. It was only a matter of time before one would have pumpkin innards covering his white shirt.

He had the good grace not to look her way. She didn’t need any more aggravation, and he was providing exactly that. “I’m frustrated, not mad.”

“Okay, but I still want an answer.” He took one last huge bite of his sandwich and then dropped a hand to his side.

Annie let out a breath. “Do you know about me? About where I was born?”

“Same as the rest of us, I assume.” He rested his hands on the edge of the wagon. “With Alma at your mamm’s side.”

She sighed, amazed and glad she lived among people who didn’t gossip about another’s hardship. “I found out that I was abandoned as a newborn and found by my daed.” She studied him to make sure he was still looking at her the way he always did—without judgment or accusation—even when she carped about her chores, loved to play baseball, or asked him questions she shouldn’t.

His eyes never wavered, just kept their steady probing into hers. “So you were meant to be here even more than the rest of us.” One side of his mouth lifted.

She was surprised for only a second by his answer. But was he right or reaffirming her, knowing she had doubts? “You can’t be sure of th—”

“Jah, I can.”

Now she was even more frustrated, as if she were talking with her daed. “I have another family somewhe—”

“Your family is here.” He gestured to everyone playing, eating, and talking in the field.

“But I want to know things.”

“What do you
need
to know?”

“I was adopted and—”

“Adopted by Christ and raised by people who love you. That’s more than you may have gotten otherwise.”

His words lashed at her, as if he’d thought out every one before she even asked. He showed no patience with her questions and clearly wanted the conversation over.

“Because it’s expected? Or because I am truly loved?”

John crossed his arms over his broad chest and shook his head. “Why do you doubt our ways? You never have before, until now when it’s the most important.”

“What’s wrong with questioning if there is nothing to hide?”

“Peace, to live in harmony.” He gazed ahead as if to say the subject was now over.

She had gotten little farther with him than she had with her parents. Expecting more, she surrendered to his wishes. “What do I do now?”

“What is there?”

“Find out about my birth family. Wouldn’t you want to know?”

“Nee, I wouldn’t. And neither should you.” He jumped down from the wagon, wiping his hands on his britches, and joined the men to help one another through the storm as the tumult began inside Annie.

 
Chapter Four
 

A
NNIE SAT AT
the kitchen table trying to read, but her mind kept drifting from her book to a beach with blue water. She wondered what it felt like to have the sun touch her thighs and stomach. While she dreamed about the outside world, she was away from the daily chores, evening mass, and cooking. She had to admit her mamm’s food was good, but eating it was much more enjoyable than making it. Was she becoming self-serving in that she only cared about her stomach?

Annie was no larger in size than the other girls her age but more so than the women in the magazine she had seen in town one day—beautiful women with perfect bodies and hair, wearing colorful clothes. She knew this was why she was forbidden to see such things but then wondered why the Amish couldn’t learn self-restraint by choosing instead of being told.

“What could an eighteen-year-old girl be so angry about?” her mamm asked. “Come and help with dinner.”

“The English would be happy to see their children with a book in their hands,” Annie threw back at her mamm.

Her daed stretched out his long legs and set his Bible on the fireplace hearth. “Annie, do not disrespect your mamm.” Then he picked up his Bible again and resumed reading.

Annie had so much to say to him that she knew she never could, and questions to ask—so many
whys
: Why didn’t you tell me? Why can’t I find my birth mother? Why did you decide to keep me?

“Come help me with dinner.” Mamm held out a hand to Annie.

Glad to get away from her daed, she followed her mamm without hesitation.

Chicken and dumplings simmered in a large black pan on the stove. Annie followed her nose to the bread in the oven and grabbed an oven mitt to pull out the two steaming loaves. She placed them on a cooling rack and leaned against the counter.

“Daed seems angry with me.”

“Ach, he’s just a man of few words.” Her mamm smiled and handed her a jar of tomato relish. “Will you go to the cellar and fetch two jars of bean salad?” Mamm wiped her cheek with a single finger then poured off the boiling water from the potatoes
grumbeere
. “Make that three. Thomas will eat a jar all by himself.”

The damp coolness of the earthen walls gave Annie a chill as she descended the planks leading to the underground storage area. Most of the summer harvest was set aside for winter eating, and because they didn’t use refrigerators, they pickled nearly everything.

Annie glanced up at one of the many cabinets filled with applesauce, jam, coleslaw, and pickles. They’d gathered an unusually large number of tomatoes, enough to fill four bushels. They’d been salted and stored in white buckets, and after a week’s time the excess water was dumped off, and they were placed in kettles, cooked to the right thickening, and then jarred with spices and sugar.

She took some tomatoes, along with the bean salad, then turned to make her way up the narrow stairs. She stopped and stared down the short tunnel at the end of the cellar. Nothing was stored there, as it was too narrow, but the darkness captivated her, not only this time but every single trip she made down to this underground hole, and she felt the obscurity there. A vacant part of her connected with the uncertainty of what might be in the darkness.

Once Annie turned away, she took each step quickly to the top, almost dropping one of the jars. “Here, Mamm,” she said in a breath.

“Are you running from ghosts again?” Mamm reached for the jars as Annie tried to set them on the counter. One rolled to the edge and fell to the floor with the splintering sound of glass.

Her daed was at the door within a moment’s time. He held one hand on the door frame, staring at the runny, red tomatoes mixed with shards of glass. Annie’s gaze met his as his eyebrows gathered, drawing lines into his forehead.

“What’s gotten into you, girl?”

A name he hadn’t called her since she was young, a reprimand she couldn’t ignore. “I’m sorry, Daed.” She reached for a towel and began to spread the mess into a larger circle of red. Her mind regressed as if she were a young girl instead of a young woman.

A swell of emotion lurched up in her chest and pushed upward, causing a small cry to expel from her lips. Amos grunted and walked to the table to wait for his meal.

Mamm brought over the trash bin and began scooping up the larger pieces of the now-mangled tomatoes. “Go wash up.” She patted Annie on the top of one hand and continued to clean the stained floor. Annie stood, looking down at the mess she’d made. She felt disjointed inside as well as out. She couldn’t grasp what she now knew. She had to do something. What, she didn’t know, but something for sure.

As she washed, her siblings came in one by one and sat down at the table. Feeling the tension, they spoke in low tones, waiting patiently for Annie.

Her daed eyed her as she sat down right after her mamm. They said a silent prayer, and as the food was passed, his stare returned to her throughout the meal. Annie knew there was a “talk” coming but tried to enjoy her meal in spite of it. Were her actions so obvious that her parents knew her thoughts?

Mamm asked Amos if he wanted some of the bean salad, but he ignored her. Annie decided right then that
her
husband would look her in the eyes when she spoke. He’d act interested in what she said, even if he wasn’t.

When the meal was finished, Annie and Hanna worked beside their mamm, washing dishes as Frieda cleared the table. Amos took the boys out with him to gather wood and check the weather. The wind whipped the sides of the house. The wooden chimes Eli had made that hung on the porch clanged and twisted in the snapping gales.

Hanna, Annie, and their mother peered out the window as they finished cleaning up. Annie searched for a glimpse of the men or a drastic change in the weather. From the corner of her eye she could see her sister and mother did the same. By the time they finished, Mamm was almost pacing, attending to tiny, trivial details around the kitchen.

Finally Amos guided Samuel and Thomas through the kitchen door with Eli and Augustus following at his usual snail’s pace even now. The door fought against Amos’s grip on the doorknob, and the wind caused it to bounce against his boot.

Mamm gathered the younger boys around her. “What took you so long?”

“That wind’s fierce.” Amos kicked off his boots and placed them in the mudroom, side by side.

“We moved what we could into the barn, tied down the rest.” Eli removed his coat and hung it on a rack that held ten rungs and twice that many coats.

“Do you think it’ll turn into a tornado?” Mamm helped the younger boys off with their jackets and sent them out of the room with the girls.

“Hope not. All that crop-moving would be for nothing.” Amos sat in a chair by the black wood-burning stove. He opened the small door where the logs were fed and rubbed his hands together. Mamm set the kettle on the stove to make tea just as Annie headed toward the door.

“Come here, Annie.” Amos’s strident voice filled the room.

Annie stopped and turned to her daed. He continued the same motion, warming his hands and leaning toward the hot stove. It was almost as if he hadn’t spoken at all. Mamm turned at the waist, froze, and then looked at her husband.

Annie sat in a chair by her daed, placed her hands in her lap, and waited. Amos closed the stove door and studied her. “You need to go back to the way things were.”

Not sure of what he was asking, Annie frowned. “What do you mean?”

His stern eyes bore into hers. “Like it was before you found out.”

“I can’t, Daed.”

“Puh, you will.”

“It’s changed me.”

“It doesn’t change anything.” He forced his words between clenched teeth.

Annie turned her head as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t win this war of words. He wouldn’t let her feel, wouldn’t let her search for what she needed. “I need to find her.”

“You ungrateful child.” Her father slowly shook his head.

“Nee, Daed.” Annie lifted her hand to his arm. He pulled back and put two fingers to his temple. “Daed, please.” Her ears rang as her heart pounded.

Annie stared at her mamm. She had backed up against the counter with one hand covering her mouth. Annie stood and walked quickly to her. Mamm enveloped Annie into her arms, letting her hide just for a moment, until Annie heard the creak of a chair and the footsteps of her daed slowly fade away.

She turned too late; he was gone. Maybe it was better this way, so she could talk with her mamm alone. “I have to try to find out who I really am. You understand, don’t you?”

Mamm shook her head once, slowly. “Nee, but I can’t stand to see the struggle tear inside you either.” She held Annie’s face in her palms, and Annie saw the anguish in her eyes. “You’re such a sensitive girl. I’d hoped you’d never know.” Mamm’s head tilted as her hands slipped away.