Pennsylvania Patchwork (14 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Since Esther had Holly's cell phone at her disposal and the endocrinologist's telephone number in the kitchen, she saw no reason to wait until Holly got home to call to reconfirm her mother's appointment for tomorrow. Mamm was in the Daadi Haus; Esther would lower her volume so her mamm wouldn't hear her speaking.

Moving into the kitchen, Esther tapped in the numbers. “Dr. Brewster is so pleased your mother's coming in,” the woman said, with a tinge of urgency. “We keep time slots open for emergencies. Not that this is an emergency—but we could even fit her in this afternoon.”

“No, I want to give my mother another day to recuperate from a fall.” And then Esther would need to find a strategy to talk Mamm into going, even if it meant offering to stop for dinner and pie at Bird-in-Hand Family Restaurant on the way home.

“Tomorrow morning is fine, thank you,” Esther told the receptionist, and took the address in the outskirts of the city of Lancaster. The distance to the office was too far for a horse and buggy, not that she'd ask Armin for assistance. He was maintaining two farms until Nathaniel's return—or at least Armin was supposed to be. He seemed lackadaisical, the kind of fellow who might get distracted and forget. After all, where was he now?

The words
Judge not lest ye be judged
came to mind. She reprehended herself for being critical, when in fact Armin was a likeable fellow and hadn't perpetrated half her sins. And he was her Nathaniel's brother. She allowed her imagination to spiral into the future and considered an unlikely occurrence: Holly's falling in love with Armin and becoming baptized. Holly had adored dressing Amish, and now that Esther thought about it, her daughter hadn't rushed out to buy or rent a car, charged her laptop computer, or lamented that she'd lost her job at a Seattle stock brokerage firm. Esther imagined Holly and Armin having children, providing Esther with grandchildren right next door! What could be better?

Esther shook her head. She was being ridiculous and wasting precious time when she should be looking after Mamm. Like it or not, her mamm was going to the doctor's office tomorrow. Esther would need to call a driving service to make arrangements and must find the number. She recalled seeing a business card in a kitchen drawer among a stew of papers, pencils, rubber bands, and a couple pairs of Mamm's glasses. Mamm used to be so organized when Esther was a child, but not anymore. When Esther last opened the drawer she'd unearthed a paring knife and a shriveled-up radish.

She noticed movement out of her peripheral sight and glanced out the window to see Zach's pickup coming to a stop at the side of the house. A minute later she heard feet plodding through the utility room, then knuckles rapping on the kitchen door. She was tempted to pretend she didn't hear him. He'd come to see Holly, after all, not her.

He knocked again, and Esther finally opened the door. “Hello, Zach. Holly isn't here.”

His features sagged; his crestfallen demeanor reminded her of Nathaniel when he'd left earlier—like a deflated basketball.

“She should be home any minute,” Esther said. “I thought she'd be back by now.”

“I'll come in and wait, if you don't mind.” Zach had no doubt visited Esther's mamm his whole life, sitting in this very kitchen with his mother, Beth; it made sense he'd feel at home. Still, Esther wished he'd skedaddle until Holly returned. No matter what Esther said to him, her words could be taken wrong. Holly would not appreciate her meddling in their relationship crisis. And with Mamm's incoherent thinking and memory, there was no way of knowing how she'd greet him.

But he looked so forlorn, she said, “Where are my manners? Please have coffee and a cookie.” She poured him a cup, brought cream from the refrigerator, and set the cream and a plate of snickerdoodles on the table, next to the sugar bowl. “There ya go.”

“Thanks.” His voice sounded flat.

The kitchen smelled of her warming casserole, a sign she was preparing the noon meal. But she dare not invite him to stay without consulting Holly.

His weight on one foot, Zach leaned against the counter. “I assume Holly told you about Victoria and her son.”

Esther licked her lower lip to keep from wading into the subject; Holly would see it as her butting in where she didn't belong.

“I was blindsided yesterday,” he said, and sipped his coffee black. “My former girlfriend Victoria had the audacity to show up with her little boy at my mother's house. Victoria claims the child is ours, not her husband's, who has apparently run out on her.”

Esther wanted to say, “How appalling,” but pressed her lips together.

“He's a cute little tyke, but he's not mine.” He set the cup on the counter. “Your mother, Anna, never liked Victoria when we dated, but my mother was crazy about her and encouraged me to marry her at every turn.”

“Zach, you don't owe me an explanation. I've made plenty of mistakes.” Holly and Beth must have filled him in. And he'd heard the bishop on the nonpreaching Sunday last month.

“As Holly's mother, you have a right to know.” He raised his chin, but it lowered itself, as if his neck had lost all strength. “Years ago, I asked Victoria to marry me twice and she kept hedging. Then without a word, she eloped with a guy I considered a close friend. Turns out, she'd been seeing him on the sly for months. She made me feel and look like a chump.”

“I can understand you'd be disillusioned. ” Esther paused, knowing Holly wouldn't appreciate her interference. “Sometimes those horrid situations turn out to be a blessing in disguise.” She summarized Genesis 50:20 in her own words. “What was intended to harm you, God intended for good.”

“Yes, that's what I came to realize. I'd been all set to marry a two-timing cheater. After she moved to Philly and I got over the shock and bruised feelings, I realized it was a blessing in disguise.” His face was chalky, his motions listless. “But now she's back, claiming I fathered her son. He's not mine. Although my mother wants a grandson so much she won't listen to reason.”

“Shouldn't you be telling this to Holly and not me?” Esther wished her daughter would get home and put an end to this awkward situation. What was taking her so long?

“I tried to explain,” he said, “but I don't think she believed me. And now she's out with Armin? Am I getting the shaft again?”

“It's best I don't say a thing.” Even though he was Beth's son, Esther's heart went out to Zach. If he longed for Holly half as much as she ached for Nathaniel, he was miserable.

She brought out the cell phone and Zach's eyes widened. “Zach, Holly left me this. I wouldn't ordinarily use it, but I need to set up a ride to take Mamm to the doctor's tomorrow morning.”

“I'd be happy to drive you. I own a Ford sedan, so we'll all fit in. Tell me when to be here.”

“But you're so busy.” He had as much chaos in his life as Esther did. She wondered if he'd heard about Nathaniel's missing wife. No doubt one of the local farmers had mentioned it, if not Nathaniel himself.

“I'll make the time,” he said.

Her casserole smelled delectable, meaning it was most likely done. There was no way around it; she'd have to crack the oven door and take a peek so she didn't overcook it. Sure enough, the macaroni noodles on top were browned to perfection. She breathed in the aroma of melted cheese, sautéed onion, green bell peppers, and ground beef. How impolite to bring it out and not invite Zach to join her and Mamm. But what if Holly had invited Armin to dine with them?

Esther slipped her hands into mitts, lifted the casserole, and placed it on a cooling rack on the counter. Zach's gaze locked onto it, his nose raising to inhale its succulence.

“I'd better go so you can eat,” he said, not moving.

Esther put her schnitz pie in the oven and turned the oven's temperature from 350 to 450. She set the timer for fifteen minutes. “I might bring Mamm her meal on a tray. I don't want any more accidents before tomorrow.” She mulled over his offer to drive them. “Zach, I thank you for your kindness. I'll take you up on your offer if you can be here at nine thirty.” She knew she was being doubly rude, but added, “I'm assuming you won't bring Beth with you.”

“Absolutely not. I'm steering clear of my mother. I don't know what's gotten into her since I announced my intentions to marry Holly. Right away, she battered me with reasons why Holly and I shouldn't act hastily.”

“I don't want to cause a riff between you and your mother,” Esther said.

“Too late to prevent that.” He glanced at the casserole, then stood and took a step toward the door. “I'll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.” Esther understood why Holly found Zach so attractive, beyond his handsome appearance. Be he Beth's son or not, the man was hard to fault, even if he'd fathered a son. Why, Esther would have a grandson to coddle!

She glanced out the window and saw a chestnut mare and a gray covered carriage enter the barnyard. A white bearded Amishman emerged. “Jeremiah Fisher? What in the world is he doing here?”

Zach moved to Esther's side. A moment later, Holly glided out of the buggy as if she'd ridden in them her whole life. Esther chuckled to herself; her daughter had been practicing out front of the Amish Shoppe.

“Would you please wait in case Mamm wakes up and trundles out here looking for me?” she asked Zach. And in case Holly didn't wish to speak to him in front of Jeremiah. Esther didn't want Jeremiah witnessing a lovers' quarrel, fodder for Beatrice's gossip.

“Sure,” he said, staring out the window.

Esther shoved her feet into shoes, and strode through the utility room. Her mind struggled to put together a logical reason Holly would be with Jeremiah, but could make no sense of the situation.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I saw Zach's pickup parked outside the barnyard! My heart blipped into high gear the moment my grandfather's buggy passed by it. But Zach was probably in the barn checking on Cookie, I reminded myself. My mother was the only individual tentatively exiting the house and descending the back steps.

“Hello, Jeremiah,” Mom said as she came over to us.

Jeremiah tied the mare to a post, then turned to her. “
Gude Mariye
, Esther.”

“Where's Nathaniel's buggy?” Mom laced her fingers. “And Armin?”

“Armin's horse ran off,” Jeremiah said. “Nathaniel's buggy is at our place.”

“Ach, ya don't mean it.”

“Yup, Galahad flew the coop,” I said, and let out a huff. “Rascal, too.”

“Armin's dog's name is Rascal?” Grandpa Jeremiah gave his head a slight shake. “You can tell a lot about a dog by its name.”

“Like Wolfie?” Mom said.

“I can't argue with you there.” Jeremiah tipped back his hat. “Wolfie isn't the friendliest
Hund
, but you won't find our goats getting attacked at night. Now Armin's dog—”

“Do ya think Rascal is at fault?” my mother said.

I moved closer to her. “Mom, did you see Galahad trot by?”

“No. But I wasn't keeping an eye open for him.” She clasped her hands under her chin. “I'm glad I didn't know about it when I spoke to Nathaniel earlier.”

“He called?” I said.

“Larry did—” Mom covered her mouth with her fingertips for a moment, then spoke to Jeremiah. “It's a long story, but Larry is Holly's Englisch friend from Seattle who is kindly driving Nathaniel somewhere.”

“I heard all about Nathaniel's predicament,” Jeremiah said. “Such a jumbled mess. Good to know God's in control.”

“Yah, God is in control.” Mom's brows furrowed. “But we can pray, can't we?”

“Yah, sure, that his will be done.”

I felt sorry for Mom—she reminded me of myself—but I thought we should wait until we were alone to discuss Nathaniel and her iffy future with him.

“Is that Zach's pickup?” I knew it was, but I tried to act blasé by directing my gaze to Jeremiah's mare.

“Yes, he's in the house. I didn't know if I should invite him to stay for dinner.”

A kaleidoscope of emotions and questions bombarded me, including bewilderment, foreboding, and dejection. But my desire to see him overpowered my negative thoughts. “Please do,” I said, “and invite Jeremiah, too.”

“We've got plenty of food,” Mom said, “but I didn't know if Armin and Zach could sit peacefully at the same table together.”

“If Armin shows up, I'll make sure the young men are at their best behavior,” Jeremiah said, the corners of his mouth lifting.

Mom slipped her hand under my arm. “I need to tell you, I accepted Zach's offer to drive Mamm to her doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. We need a ride, and I was about to hire a driver. But they can be costly.”

I recalled our measly financial state. “Okay, I suppose.”

“You could sit in the backseat with your grandma,” she said, as if that would solve our problems. “He seemed mighty downhearted in the kitchen just now.”

“Sometimes a person can seem to be one thing—” I didn't want to rehash the past in front of my grandfather.

“I could drive you in the buggy.” Jeremiah tilted his head toward his carriage. “Glad ta do it. The ride would take longer, but I'm an early riser, and my grandsons handle the milking.”

“That's kind of you.” Mom sounded hesitant, her eyes wary. “But it's so far for your horse, not to mention dangerous with all the traffic.”

“Matthew could do the driving if it would ease your anxieties,” Jeremiah said. “I know I've gotten on in years.”

“Thank you, but we'd better stick to our plan,” Mom said. “Zach has a sedan and told me he has the time.”

“Humph, what if his office calls?” I glanced up at the window and saw Zach watching us. “What's he doing in there?”

“I asked him to stay in the kitchen in case Mamm wakes up.” My mother turned to Jeremiah. “She's been having—uh, problems with her balance.”

I guessed she didn't want the details of Mommy Anna's forgetfulness brought home to Beatrice, who might have a field day yacking about my grandma at the next work frolic. Which I might just attend with or without Mom.

“Well?” I said, not wanting to be the first to enter the house. “Are we inviting Jeremiah to dine with us?”

“You're most welcome to stay, but won't Beatrice worry about you?” Mom asked him.

“
Mei Fraa
can be persnickety, but Matthew and Rachel will feed and reassure her.” He patted his tummy. “Yah, I accept your invitation.”

“Great.” My guess was Beatrice would not approve.

Mom led the way up the steps as Zach opened the door.

“Holly—”

My first impulse was to fling myself into his arms, but I needed to be cautious. “Hi, Zach.”

Ushering us through the utility room and into the kitchen, Mom asked him, “Would you like to join us?”

“Yes, if Holly doesn't mind.”

“Sure, stay.” I glanced at the table; it needed to be set. “Mom says we have more than enough.”

Jeremiah removed his hat and shook hands with Zach. “Gut seeing you.”

Zach hung the hat on a peg, then helped my grandpa remove his jacket. Zach hung up the garment, then turned to me. In spite of my bruised ego, I wanted to sink into his embrace, to abandon all rationality. But I steadied myself.

Mom breezed over to the oven and turned down the temperature, then reset the timer. The room smelled scrumptious, of baking apples—what I figured she had in the oven—and of the casserole she'd made for me many times. But my stomach felt like it had shrunk to the size of a dime.

Mommy Anna toddled into the room no longer wearing her ace bandage. “What's happening?” She yawned; one side of her face was creased, as if she'd just awakened. Her cap had slid back and its knot come undone. I could see Zach and Jeremiah were assessing her bandaged and discolored forehead.

“Looks like we're having a party,” Mommy Anna said. “Welcome, Jeremiah! It's fine-gut to see you.”

“
Ich bedank mich
,” Jeremiah said. The two sat at the table—Jeremiah at the head—and fell into Pennsylvania Dutch and laughter. I could make out bits and pieces having to do with Armin's horse running off. Which I didn't find funny, because Galahad or Rascal could get hit by a car or stolen.

Then, as if Jeremiah had seen a ghost, his face blanched as white as his beard. He turned to my mother. “What's Anna talking about? Did our Samuel send you a doll and a letter recently? How can that be?”

I could recognize my mother's every facial expression—I knew her so well. Her mind was grappling for the right words to explain the unexplainable. “In part Mamm's right, but she's got her facts a little mixed up,” she said.

“I do not! Don't make me sound
narrisch
—crazy!” Mommy Anna pointed at her forehead. “How else did I get these stitches? You and I were both wanting to hold the silk and doll when I fell and hit my head.”

Telling me that my mother was wrestling the doll away from my ailing grandma! Mom was taking out her frustrations about Nathaniel on a defenseless old woman. I abhorred violence. I knew the Amish were nonresistant, meaning they were taught to turn the other cheek and to never strike back. How could Mom possibly hope to join the Amish church while acting aggressively?

“Let me get this straight,” Zach said, breaking into my thoughts. “Holly's father sent you a doll?”

“No, a former soldier from Vietnam sent it.” My voice quivered.

“And a letter,” Mom said, pulling out a chair for Zach. “A man claiming to be a wartime friend of Samuel's. But we have no proof he has the right Samuel Fisher, or if he's even telling the truth.”

“I could get the man's telephone number,” Zach said, sitting. “I'll call my clinic and have my receptionist look it up.”

“I wrote him a letter today.” Mom opened the cupboard and extracted dishes.

“A letter will take days,” Zach said.

I gathered cutlery from the drawers and set the table. “I'm sure the doll was meant for me.”

“It's quite fancy,” Mommy Anna's eyebrows met in the center, pulling on her bandage. “You won't believe it when you see it.”

“Hold on, everyone, you're talking about my son.” Jeremiah's voice sounded indignant. He placed his elbows on the table, leaned forward. “I don't believe our Samuel would have bought a fancy doll. Unless Esther asked him to.”

Mom's hand grasped a chairback. “No, I didn't. I was as shocked as everyone.”

“Why didn't you inform us?” Jeremiah asked.

“It arrived yesterday, and I wanted to get the facts straight.” Mom's cheeks looked sunken. “We still don't know if it's a hoax or a case of mistaken identity.”

“I do. My dad bought the doll for me. Somehow he knew Mom was carrying a girl. Don't you believe in divine providence?” I asked everyone in the room.

“Where is this doll and letter?” Jeremiah said, his mouth severe.

“Mom has the letter, but I'll go get the doll.”

“Are ya sure you wouldn't rather have dinner before my casserole gets cold?” my mother said. “Let's thank the Lord and have our meal.”

Zach rose and pulled out a chair for me. He had the most beautiful eyes, like deep pools of water. I couldn't shake my infatuation; he'd cast a spell over me. But I kept my face from exposing my feelings.

“How can I eat now?” Jeremiah's posture became rigid, his fists on the table. “Was my Beatrice right about you, Esther? All along she said you can't be trusted.”

“It only just arrived.” Mom sat next to Mommy Anna, across from Zach and me. “I never asked my Samuel to send a doll so I think it's a mistake.”

“I'll get it if you like.” I pushed my chair away from the table.

“Gut idea,” Mommy Anna said.

My doll, I told myself as I climbed the stairs to the bedroom. I was amazed to see the blue Tiffany's box sitting next to the doll. What a beautiful color, enhanced with white satin ribbon. Larry had apparently left the box for me, or maybe he was worried about losing it on the trip to Ohio. I hoped that was the case.

Lifting the doll, I felt a wave of indecision encapsulate me. What if Jeremiah tried to take it home with him to show Beatrice? I wouldn't let him.

“Did my dad buy you?” I asked the doll; she stared back at me with vacant eyes. Jeremiah and Beatrice would dislike it as much as Mommy Anna did.

I recalled Mommy Anna's declaration about Dad's perhaps buying the doll for someone else's daughter, and the fabric for a woman he'd met overseas. I'd also heard that in adverse circumstances men were capable of making unconscionable decisions, contrary to their fundamental beliefs. But I couldn't accept that my father would do such a thing, no matter the situation.

I heard a block of silence resonating from the kitchen as I descended the stairs. I played several scenarios in my head, none of them good.