Going Home (28 page)

Faith could only groan in response.

“She isn’t feeling well this morning, Mama,” Grace Ann said as she stepped in front of Faith and laid a hand on her forehead. “She’s got herself a fever, and from the looks of her arms and face, I’d say she’s contracted a nasty case of chicken pox.”

“Chicken pox?” Esther and Mama said in unison.

Mama hurried over to the table. “Let me have a look-see.”

Faith lifted her face for her mother’s inspection, and Mama’s grimace told her all she needed to know. She had come down with the pox, and that meant she wouldn’t be going anywhere for the next couple of weeks. Faith had to wonder if someone was trying to tell her something. If so, would she be willing to listen?

“Didn’t I have the pox when I was a girl?”

“You were the only one of my kinner who didn’t get it,” Mama said. “I figured you must be immune to the disease.”

Faith dropped her head to the table. “I can’t believe this is happening to me now.”

“What do you mean ‘now’?” Grace Ann asked.

“Well, I had planned to. . .” Faith’s voice trailed off. She was sick and wouldn’t be going anywhere until her health returned, so there was no point revealing her plans just yet.

“Whatever plans you’ve made, they’ll have to wait. You’d best get on back to bed,” Mama instructed.

“Okay. Could someone please bring me a cup of tea?”

“One of your sisters will be right up,” Mama called as Faith exited the room.

A short time later, Faith was snuggled beneath her covers with a cup of mint tea in her hands. If she weren’t feeling so sick, it might have been nice to be pampered like this. Under the circumstances, though, Faith would sooner be outside chopping wood than stuck here in bed.

Faith spent the next several days in her room with one of her sisters or Mama waiting on her hand and foot. To Faith’s
amazement, Melinda didn’t get sick. Maybe she was immune to the chicken pox, or maybe she would get them later. Either way, Faith was glad her precious child didn’t have to suffer with the intense itching she’d been going through. It was enough to make her downright irritable.

One morning after the girls had left for school, Faith made her way down to the kitchen. She felt better today and decided it might do her some good to be up awhile. She found her mother sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and an open Bible. Mama looked up when Faith took the seat across from her. “You’re up. Does that mean you’re feeling better?”

“Some, although I have to keep reminding myself not to scratch the pockmarks.” Faith helped herself to the pot of tea sitting in the center of the table. Several clean cups were stacked beside it, so she poured some tea into one and took a sip.

“Sure was a good Christmas we had this year, don’t you think?” Mama asked.

Faith nodded. “It was a lot of fun.”

“First time in years the whole family has been together.”

Faith’s breath caught in her throat. Was Mama going to give her a lecture about how she’d run away from home ten years ago and left a hole in the family? Was the pleasant camaraderie they’d shared here of late about to be shattered?

“You’re awful quiet,” Mama commented.

“Just thinking is all.”

“About family?”

Instinctively Faith grasped the fingers on her right hand and popped two knuckles at the same time.

“Wish you wouldn’t do that.” Mama slowly shook her head. “It’s a bad habit, and—”

Faith held up her hands. “I’m not a little girl anymore, and as you can see, my knuckles aren’t big because I’ve popped them for so many years.” As soon as Faith saw her mother’s downcast eyes and wrinkled forehead, she wished she could take back her biting words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so testy.”

Mama reached across the table and touched Faith’s hand. “I did get after you a lot when you were a kinner, didn’t I?”

Faith could only nod, for tears clogged her throat. She opened her mouth to tell Mama of her plans to leave again, but she stopped herself in time. Now was not the time to be telling her plans. She would wait until she was feeling better.

Faith took another sip of tea. “This sure hits the spot.”

“Always did enjoy a good cup of tea on a cold winter morning.” Mama touched her Bible. “Tea warms the stomach, but God’s Word warms the soul.”

Not knowing how to respond, Faith only nodded.

“Take this verse, for example,” Mama continued. “Psalm 46:10 says, ‘Be still, and know that I am God.’ If that doesn’t warm one’s soul, I don’t know what will.”

Faith let the words sink in.
“Be still.”
She’d been very still these past few days during her bout with the chicken pox.
“And know that I am God.”

She closed her eyes.
If You’re real, God, then would You please reveal Your will to me?

A knock on the door drew Faith’s thoughts aside. Mama rose to her feet. “Must be someone come a-calling. Your daed
and the boys are out in the barn, and they surely wouldn’t be knocking, now would they?”

Faith watched the back door as her mother made her way across the room. When Mama opened it, a gust of cold wind blew in, followed by Noah Hertzler carrying a small wicker basket in one hand.

“Noah, what are you doing here?” Faith questioned. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

He followed Mama over to the table. “Things are kind of slow at the Christmas tree farm right now, so Hank gave me and the other fellows a few days off. This is for you,” he said, placing the basket in front of Faith. “I hope it will make you feel better.”

“Aren’t you worried about getting the chicken pox?” she asked. “I could still be contagious, you know.”

He shook his head. “I had them already—when I was five years old.”

“Oh, okay.” Faith pulled the piece of cloth back and smiled when she saw a batch of frosted brownies nestled inside the basket. “Chocolate—my weakness. Thank you, Noah.”

“You’re welcome, and it’s good to see you up.” Noah pulled out a chair and sat down next to Faith. “The last couple of times I’ve dropped by, you’ve been in your room, too sick for visitors.”

“Someone in the family has always delivered the goodies you brought me,” she said.

Noah chuckled. “Sure glad to hear that. Knowing those brothers of yours, I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear if John and Brian had helped themselves to some of the desserts.”

“They did try,” Mama cut in. She handed Noah a cup of tea.
“Why don’t you take off your jacket and stay awhile?”

“I think I will.” Noah set the cup down on the table, slipped off his jacket, and draped it over the back of the chair.

“If you young people will excuse me, I have some laundry that needs to be done.” Mama grabbed a couple of soiled hand towels off the metal rack by the sink and quickly left the room.

Faith had to wonder if her mother had left her alone with Noah on purpose. The comments she’d made lately about how much she liked Noah and how he would make a fine husband for some lucky woman made Faith think Mama and Barbara might be in cahoots.

“How come you didn’t attach a scripture verse to any of the desserts you’ve given me lately?” Faith asked.

His face flamed. “I. . .uh. . .thought maybe I was getting too pushy. Didn’t want you to think I was trying to cram the Bible down your throat.”

Faith stared at the tablecloth. “Guess I probably have needed a bit of encouraging.”

When Noah reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, she felt a warm tingle travel all the way up her arm. Not the kind that felt like fireworks, but a comfortable, cozy feeling. “I’m still praying for you, Faith,” he said quietly. “Just thought you should know.”

“I appreciate that because I need all the prayers I can get.”

“Speaking of prayers. . .” Noah smiled. “I had one answered for me on Christmas Day.”

Faith lifted her gaze. “What prayer was that?”

“I stopped to see Hank and Sandy to say Merry Christmas,
and they told me that they’re planning to adopt a baby.”

“That’s wonderful. They seem to like children, so I’m sure they’ll make good parents.”

He nodded. “I think so, too.”

Faith was happy for Hank and Sandy, but an ache settled over her heart when she thought about her own life. If she never married, she wouldn’t have any more children, and Faith knew that once she left home and returned to the world of entertainment, the closeness she and Melinda had now would be diminished. Even so, returning to the world of entertainment was the only way she would ever find what she’d been longing for all these years.

B
y the following week, Faith felt much better. The pock marks had dried up, her sore throat and headache were gone, and her energy was nearly back to normal.

On Saturday morning after the kitchen chores were done, she decided to have that talk with Mama she’d been putting off far too long. Melinda and Susie were in the barn playing. Esther, Grace Ann, and Brian had gone to Seymour with Papa. John was over at his girlfriend’s house. This was the perfect chance to speak with Mama alone. When that conversation was out of the way, she would do the hardest part—tell Melinda she was planning to leave.

Faith glanced over at her mother, who sat in front of the treadle sewing machine in a corner of the kitchen. “Mama, before you get too involved with your sewing, I wondered if we could talk awhile.”

Mama looked up at Faith. “Is this just a friendly little chitchat, or have you got something serious on your mind?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I figure if it’s just going to be some easy banter, I’ll keep sewing as we talk.”

Faith leaned on the cupboard. “I’m afraid it’s serious.”

Mama slid her chair back and stood. “Shall we sit at the kitchen table, or would you rather go to the living room?”

“Let’s go in there. We’ll be less apt to be disturbed should the girls come inside before we’re done talking.”

Mama nodded, and Faith followed her into the next room. They both sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace. The heat from the flames licking at the logs did nothing to warm Faith. Goose bumps had erupted all over her arms.

“What’s wrong, Faith? Are you cold?”

“No, I—”

“Why don’t you run upstairs and get a sweater?”

Faith shook her head and rubbed her hands briskly over her arms. “I’ll be okay as soon as I say what’s on my mind.”

“You look so solemn. What’s this all about?”

“It–it’s about me—and Melinda.”

Mama leaned forward, and her glasses slipped down her nose. “What about you?”

“I. . .uh. . .plan to go back to my life as an entertainer, and I hope to be on a bus for Memphis by Monday morning to meet with the agent I’ve hired.” There, it was out. Faith should have felt better, but she didn’t. The sorrowful look on Mama’s face was nearly her undoing.

“I knew it was too good to be true, you coming home and all.” Mama squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, Faith noticed there were tears.

“I never meant to hurt you, Mama. I hope you know that.”

“The only thing I know for sure is that my prodigal daughter finally returned home; only now she’s about to leave again.” Mama wrapped her arms around her middle, as though she were hugging herself. “No wonder you’ve put off baptism and joining the church. You’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you?”

Faith nodded solemnly. “I would have told you sooner, but things kept getting in the way of my leaving.”

Mama stood and moved toward the fireplace. “Why’d you come home if you were planning to leave?”

“I—I wanted to—”

“You were down on your luck and needed a place to stay for a while, isn’t that it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“You allowed us to get close to Melinda, and now you’re taking her away?”

Faith jumped up and hurried to her mother’s side. “I’d like Melinda to stay here if that’s okay with you and Papa. She needs a home where she’ll be well cared for and loved. It’s not good for a child to be raised by a single parent who lives out of a suitcase and has no place to call home.”

Mama turned to face Faith. The tears that had gathered in her eyes moments ago were now rolling down her cheeks. “Melinda can stay if that’s your wish. But I’d like you to think long and hard about something before you go.”

“What’s that?”

“If Melinda needs a good home where she’ll be loved and cared for, then what about her mamm? What’s she needing these days?”

Faith nearly choked on the tears clogging her throat. She was afraid if she said one more word she would break down and sob. She had made her decision and felt certain it was the best thing for both her and Melinda.

“Oh, and one more thing. . .”

“What’s that, Mama?”

“If you leave again, then you’re not welcome to come home.”

“But what about Melinda? I’ll need to be with her for holidays and special occasions.”

Mama shook her head vigorously. “If you go and Melinda stays, it wouldn’t be good for her to have you showing up whenever you have a whim. It would only confuse the girl. Might make her want to go back to the English world with you.”

Faith’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe Mama was putting stipulations on leaving Melinda with them. The thought of never seeing her daughter again was almost too much to bear. Faith needed to think more about this. She had to spend some time alone and figure out what to do.

Giving no thought to the cold, she dashed out the front door and into the chilly morning air.

A few minutes later, a blast of warm air greeted her as she entered the barn. Papa had obviously stoked up the stove before he and the others left for Seymour.

Figuring Melinda and Susie were probably on the other
side of the barn, Faith headed in that direction. She came to a halt when she heard her daughter’s sweet voice singing and yodeling.

Surprised by the sound, Faith tiptoed across the wooden floor until she spotted Melinda. The child knelt in the hay with three black-and-white kittens curled in her lap. Susie sat off to one side, holding two other kittens.

“Oddle—lay—oddle—lay—oddle—lay—dee—tee—my mama was an old cowhand, and she taught me how to yodel before I could stand. Yo—le—tee—yo—le—tee—hi—ho!”