Going Home (4 page)

“Jah,”
Brian said with a nod. “We’ve missed you all these years.”

“I–I’ve missed you, too.”

Menno cleared his throat loudly. “Where have you been all this time, Faith, and what have you been doing?”

“She’s been yodeling and telling jokes for English folks in places like Branson,” John said before Faith could respond. “Not long ago, I saw her picture in one of them flyers advertising shows at Branson.” He glanced over at his father. “Remember when I told you and Mama about it?”

Menno mumbled something Wilma couldn’t quite understand as he ambled across the room toward the sink. She waited
until he had washed and dried his hands, then she motioned to the table and said, “Supper’s ready now, so why don’t we all find our places? While we’re eating, Faith can answer everyone’s questions.”

F
aith cringed as her family joined her and Melinda at the table. She didn’t want to answer anyone’s questions. Truth be told, she didn’t really want to be here, but bringing Melinda to live with her folks was the only way she knew to give her daughter a stable home.

You had a stable home once, and you left it
, a little voice niggled at the back of Faith’s mind. She shook her head, trying to clear away the disturbing thoughts. She had to stay focused on her goal for Melinda.

Faith glanced over at her father, a tall, muscular man with a good crop of cinnamon brown hair and a beard that was peppered with gray. He cleared his throat loudly, the way he’d always done whenever it was time to bow their heads for silent prayer. Faith leaned close to Melinda, who sat in the seat beside her. “Close your eyes now; we’re going to pray.”

Melinda’s forehead wrinkled, and Faith realized that the child didn’t understand. How could she? Faith had quit praying a long time ago, and she hadn’t taught her daughter how to pray, either. “Shut your eyes,” she whispered in Melinda’s ear.

Melinda did as she was told, and everyone else did the same. Several seconds later, Papa cleared his throat again, and all eyes opened. Everyone’s but Melinda’s. Faith squeezed her hand, and when Melinda still didn’t open her eyes, she quietly said, “You can open your eyes now.”

Melinda blinked and looked around the table. “But nobody said nothing. When I watched
Little House on the Prairie
on TV, Laura’s pa always said the prayer out loud.”

Mama opened her mouth as if to say something, but Brian spoke first. “We offer silent prayers here.”

“But if it’s silent, how does God know what you want?”

“We pray in our minds,” Grace Ann said. “God hears what we think same as when we speak.”

Melinda seemed to accept that explanation, for she gave one quick nod, grabbed the glass of milk sitting before her, and took a drink. She smacked her lips as she set the glass down. “Umm. . . that’s sure tasty.”

“It’s fresh milk taken from one of our best milking cows early this morning,” John said, smiling over at Melinda.

“Can I milk a cow?” she asked with a look of expectation. “Laura helps her pa milk their cow on
Little House
, and it looks like a lot of fun.”

“Milking cows is hard work, but I’d be happy to show you how,” Faith’s father said. It was the first time since he’d come
into the room that Faith had seen him smile. Maybe he was glad to have her home. At least he seemed pleasant enough with Melinda. To Faith, he hadn’t said more than a few words, and those were spoken with disdain. Well, it didn’t matter. Faith would be leaving in a few weeks or months—however long it took for Melinda to become used to her new surroundings. The only thing that really mattered was Melinda developing a good relationship with her grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Everyone in the family could give Faith the cold shoulder for the rest of her life, and it wouldn’t matter.

She looked around the table at the somber faces of her family. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of caring about these people or worrying about whether they accepted her. Her life was on the stage, yodeling and cracking funny jokes for English folks who paid money to enjoy the entertainment she offered. It wasn’t here in Webster County, where everything she did was under scrutiny.

“I wanna learn about all the animals on this farm.” Melinda nearly knocked over her glass of milk as she wiggled around in her seat.

“Be careful now, or you’ll spill something,” Faith admonished.

“She’s just excited about seeing the animals,” Mama said, smiling at Melinda.

Susie, who sat on the other side of Melinda, reached over and touched Melinda’s hand. “If you’d like, we can go to the barn after we’re done eating, and I can show you the kittens that were born last week.”

Melinda’s head bobbed up and down. “I’d like that.”

Faith remained silent throughout most of the meal, only responding when she was asked a question or Melinda requested more to eat. Susie made up for Faith’s lack of conversation, as she chattered nonstop, offering to show Melinda all sorts of interesting things in her father’s barn, and telling her how much fun it was going to be to have someone close to her age living with her.

Melinda, too, seemed eager, and it was almost as if the girls had known each other all their lives. It made Faith feel guilty for not having brought Melinda to meet her family sooner.
Well, better late than never
, she thought as she poured another glass of milk for Melinda.
Besides, we might not have been welcomed before
.

They had just finished supper and the women were clearing away the dishes, when a knock sounded on the back door. “John, would you get that?” Papa asked before he drank some coffee from the cup Mama had placed in front of him moments ago.

John slid his chair away from the table and left the room. A few seconds later, he was back with Bishop Martin at his side. Except for his hair and beard turning mostly gray, the portly man looked almost the same as he had when Faith had left home ten years ago.

“Come in. Have a cup of coffee,” Papa said, motioning for the bishop to take a seat at the table.

The bishop smiled and shook his head. “I can’t stay. Just dropped by to let you know that tomorrow’s church service, which was going to be held at Henry Yoder’s home, will be held at Isaac Troyer’s place.”

Papa’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Henry’s mother, who lives in Kentucky, is real sick, and Henry and his family had to hire a driver to take them there.”

“That’s too bad. Sorry to hear of it.”

Mama moved from her place in front of the sink and gave Faith a little nudge with her elbow. “Since the bishop is here now, don’t you think this would be a good time for you to tell him what’s on your mind?” Before Faith could respond, Mama looked over at the bishop and said, “Our daughter Faith’s come home, and she wants to join the church.”

Faith swallowed hard and nearly choked. She hadn’t expected to see the bishop quite so soon. She needed more time to prepare for this—to think through what she wanted to say.

“Is that so?” Bishop Martin eyed Faith curiously as he tipped his head. “Where have you been all these years?”

“She’s been on the road, yodeling and telling jokes in the English world,” Papa spoke up before Faith could formulate a response. He motioned toward Melinda. “Right out of the blue, she and her daughter showed up on our doorstep a little while ago.”

The bishop opened his mouth as if to say something, but Faith spoke first. “My husband died a few months ago, and I decided it would be best for Melinda if we came here.”

“I see.” He gave Faith a quick nod. “Since you weren’t a member of the church when you left, you won’t be expected to offer any kind of confession to the church, but I think, given the circumstances of your leaving home in the first place, it would be good for you to give yourself some time to readjust to things before you take instruction to join the church.”

A huge sense of relief settled over Faith as she nodded. “Yes,
I think that would be best.” This would give her a chance to get her daughter settled in, and no one would suspect that her real plans were to leave Melinda here and be on the road again.

“I still can’t believe our daughter’s come home,” Wilma said to Menno as the two of them got ready for bed that night.

He pulled the covers to the foot of bed. “Jah, well, it sure seems odd to me that she would return home after this much time. It makes no sense at all.”

“You heard what she said, Menno. Faith’s come home because her husband is dead and she wants a stable home to raise her daughter in.”

“You think she’s telling the truth?”

Wilma took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled the pins from the bun at the back of her head. “What reason would she have to lie about her husband dying?”

“That’s not what I meant. If she says her husband’s dead, then I’m sure it’s true.” Menno flopped onto his side of the bed and punched the pillow a couple of times. He had a hunch there was more to the story than Faith was telling. Unless their daughter had changed a lot from when she was a girl, it was quite likely that she had something more up her sleeve than just looking for a stable home for Melinda.

“I sure hope she stays for good this time,” Wilma said as she began to brush her waist-length hair. “I don’t think I could stand losing her again.”

“I’d like to believe she will stay, but she’s been living in the world these last ten years.” He reclined on the bed and raised his arms up over his head as he rested against the pillow. “Do you really think she can give up all the modern things she’s become accustomed to having?”

“Well, I don’t know, but I’m hoping—”

“I don’t trust her, Wilma. I think Faith is probably down on her luck and can’t find a job now that her husband’s gone, so she needs a place to stay for a while.” He frowned. “Mark my words. In a couple of weeks, Faith and her daughter will be on the road, and we’ll probably never hear from them again.”

Wilma’s eyes widened, and her chin quivered slightly. “Oh, I hope that’s not the case.” She reached over to touch the Bible on the nightstand beside their bed. “Proverbs 22:6 says, ‘Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.’ We did our best to teach Faith and the rest of our kinner about God’s laws and His ways, so now we must trust that she has come back to those teachings.”

“Jah, that’s all we can do. Trust and pray,” he mumbled as his eyes drifted shut.

As Faith helped Melinda get ready for bed that night, her head pounded like a blacksmith’s anvil at work. It had been all she could do to keep from telling her folks and the bishop what her true intentions were, but she knew Melinda would never adapt to the Amish way of life unless Faith stayed for a while and helped
her fit in. It would be too traumatic for both of them if Faith left the child with strangers. No, the best thing was for her to pretend she was home to stay until she felt the time was right for her to leave. She just hoped she wouldn’t be pressured to join the church, because that would be impossible if she planned to leave.

“How come everyone in your family kept starin’ at me during supper?” Melinda asked from where she sat on the bed. “And how come they dress different than us?”

“They were probably staring because you’re so cute and they were happy to meet you.” Faith tweaked her daughter’s turned-up nose. “And they dress different than we do because they’re Amish and they believe God wants them to wear simple, plain clothes, not fancy things like so many other people like to wear.”

Melinda’s forehead wrinkled. “Maybe some were happy to see me, but not Grandma Stutzman. She frowned when you told her who I was.”

“That’s because she was so surprised.” Faith sat on the edge of the bed and took hold of the child’s hand. “As I told you before we left Branson, I hadn’t seen any of my family for ten years, and they didn’t know I had a daughter.”

Melinda sat with a sober expression, as though she were mulling over what Faith had said. Then her face broke into a smile. “Susie’s real nice, and I think she likes me.”

Faith nodded. “I’m sure she does. I believe you and my little sister will become good friends in no time at all.”

“When we went out to the barn after supper, she let me pet the baby kitties and even a couple of the horses.” Melinda crawled under the covers and snuggled against her pillow. “I’d
better go to sleep now so I can get up early and help Grandpa Stutzman milk his cows.”