The Judgment (27 page)

“Can I see if she’s up yet?” Mattie Sue persisted.

“She’ll be down soon, I’m sure.”

Mattie Sue turned and went into the kitchen, and Rose followed her. She wanted to make some paper chains, so Rose found some construction paper Mamm always kept on hand in a cupboard for the grandchildren’s visits.

“I think Mommy’s sick,” Mattie Sue said quietly, not looking at Rose. “She cries a lot.”

“Aw, honey . . .” Rose went and sat on the long bench beside her at the table.

“She misses Daddy. I know she does.” Mattie leaned her head against Rose’s arm. “And I do, too.”

“Of course ya do.” Rose patted Mattie’s head and hugged her. Then she went to the drawer where Mamm kept some blunt-edged scissors. “Do you want to cut the paper strips for your chain?”

Mattie nodded and began to cut as Rose set out the makings for a simple cold supper. From time to time, her niece looked up to watch the snow coming down, faster now, in much heavier flakes, nearly weighty enough to make a sound when they landed on the roof. “Can bein’ sad make you feel sick, Aendi Rosie?” asked Mattie Sue, dispelling the silence.

Rose pondered that as she put down a plate of cheese slices and a bowl of a sandwich spread consisting of minced green tomatoes, peppers, celery, and onions, mixed with mayonnaise and a little mustard. Dat especially liked this quick way to make a sandwich or two, especially on Sunday evenings. “I s’pose if a person cried a lot, they could get a tummy ache. Is that what ya mean, Mattie?”

“No. Mommy’s so awful sad she can’t sleep at night.”

Rose worried that Hen’s sobbing had perhaps awakened Mattie.

“I pray for her . . . don’t you?”

Rose said she did. “Every morning and night, and plenty of times in between.”

“Do you pray for Daddy, too?”

Rose couldn’t say that she had lately. “Your mommy prays for him, though, doesn’t she?”

“Sometimes.” Mattie’s eyes were serious. “I hear her after she tucks me in bed. She doesn’t know it, but I pray for Daddy then, too . . . in my bed, while I hold Foofie.”

Rose smiled. “God hears you when you pray, sweetie. I know that for sure.”

Later, when Beth came downstairs, her eyes looked bright, compared to how droopy she’d looked in church. Rose had noticed Beth dozing off during the sermons, her head bobbing repeatedly. She didn’t dare ask if she’d written about her dream yet, because she didn’t want to bring it up in front of Mattie Sue. Her poor niece didn’t need anything more on her mind.

Rose hadn’t stopped thinking about it, though. She hoped to look at Beth’s notebook later tonight, after returning from the Singing—and her buggy ride with Silas. The thought of
that
did not bring the usual joy.

What if I just stayed home tonight? Would Silas even notice?

It was Dat who insisted on taking Rose to Singing and dropping her off. On the short ride over to the barn gathering, Dat mentioned that Nick Franco no longer lived at the homeless shelter, where she’d seen him.

She couldn’t help but frown.

Dat sat tall at the reins. But he didn’t offer an explanation, which surprised her.

She also wondered what it meant that Nick had left the shelter. “Do ya think he’ll come home, maybe?”

“That’s unlikely now.”

She had to agree, what with Nick’s past behavior. He was like a crow feather fluttering in the wind. Here . . . then gone. “I’m sorry ya went all that way for nothin’.”

“Ain’t your fault, Rosie. How could you know?”

“He must’ve gotten jumpy about seein’ all of us there, maybe.”

“No, I don’t think that had anything to do with it.” Dat ran his fingers over his lips. “He’s headin’ for higher education, Rose Ann. I hate to tell ya.”

“What?” Hearing this made her feel off-kilter . . . and unsettled in the stomach. Mattie Sue’s remark rang in her head:
“Can bein’ sad make you feel sick?”
And yet Rose wondered at this news. Hadn’t Leah said he was pursuing his GED even before leaving for Philly? Maybe this had been a part of his plan.
All along.

Rose stared at the golden spots of distant light coming from the large bank barn where the Singing was to take place. Once, years before, she had felt flickers of excitement as she arrived, wondering just who might invite her to ride home after the gathering. And more recently—since September—an even stronger quiver after Silas Good’s letter had come inviting her to go with
him
.

Tonight, however, she almost dreaded going. She thanked Dat for bringing her and even had a momentary urge to lean over and kiss his cheek—something she rarely did—because he seemed so downtrodden. And she somehow felt his sullenness was
her
doing, since she’d told of seeing Nick.

If only I hadn’t breathed a word.

“Have yourself a nice time, Rose.”

“Denki,” she replied as she got down from the carriage. Beth’s recent dream came unexpectedly to mind then, but she hadn’t had the heart to bring it up to Dat during the ride here, or before now. Even so, the dear Lord surely had her mother, and all of them—including poor, sad Hen and missing Nick—in the palm of His loving hand. Nothing was going to happen to any of them that was a surprise to their heavenly Father.

Rose was hardly in the mood to sing the “fast” songs typical of their barn gatherings, but she sang anyway. Her heart wasn’t in mingling with the other courting-age young folk between songs, either, but she put on a pleasant face and mingled anyway.

Usually, Silas didn’t sit across from her at the long table, nor did he tonight. Instead, she ended up across from Cousin Melvin Kauffman’s younger brother Noah, who’d just turned sixteen and seemed exceptionally pleased to be present for his first ever Singing. Rose waved casually at Leah Miller, who’d just started coming again, no matter that she must still struggle with mourning Christian.

Yet even though Silas sat down the table from her a ways, Rose was very much aware of him. They traded furtive glances, Silas’s expression questioning, as if he’d noticed her somber mood. Thankfully Rebekah was nowhere to be seen, and Rose started to feel more relaxed. With the twins to care for, most likely Rebekah would not be coming to the youth gatherings for many weeks, if not months.

Later, when the fast songs were finished, the fellows started to blend with the girls. Silas caught Rose’s eye and gave her a warm smile. She nodded and even smiled back, hoping the night might end up better than she’d anticipated. Who was to say that Silas didn’t love her?

Just then, the big barn door slid open and in walked Rebekah Bontrager. She appeared shy at first, glancing about as if she wasn’t sure of herself. Then, spotting Rose with several of her girl cousins, Rebekah waved. One of the cousins invited her over warmly, and Rebekah greeted them all, looking somewhat relieved.

The merry buzz of fellows talking with their prospective dates filled the bank barn, punctuated by the occasional bellow of a cow in the lower level. Some of the young men had briefly opened the outside door in the haymow, as well as the main door, bringing in some nice, cold fresh air.

Rose was aware of Silas’s gaze in her direction as she and her Kauffman cousins talked with Rebekah. Returning his smile, Rose waved discreetly back to him. Then, just as Silas seemed about to make his move toward her, the cousins disbanded, leaving Rose alone with Rebekah.

Reaching for Rose’s hands, Rebekah said, “Silas says the two of you are planning to tie the knot next year.” She kept her voice low.

“That’s right.” Rose looked around for Silas, but he must’ve stepped outside. “You’ll keep it to yourself, jah?”

“I promised I would.” Rebekah regarded her, then smiled ever so broadly. “There’s no one quite like Silas Good, I should say. You surely are fortunate.”

Rose suddenly felt uncomfortable. It was almost as if Rebekah was hinting at her own affection for him.
She must’ve dated lots of young men. But how odd to compare them to Silas to my face . . . if that’s what she’s doing.

Quickly, Rose changed the subject. “How’re Annie’s baby twins?”

Rebekah ran her hand across her forehead. “They’re precious. I can hardly wait to have children of my own someday.”

Rose fully understood the yearning for young ones. “Who’s helpin’ Annie tonight?” It may have sounded tactless, but she was very curious to know how Rebekah had managed to come to the Singing.

“Oh, it was her idea to shoo me out the door. I would’ve gladly stayed with the babies. After all, that’s why I’m here in Lancaster.”

Is it, now?
Rose thought sarcastically. Almost immediately, she chided herself, feeling bad that she’d thought less of Rebekah, if only for a second. “What did they end up naming the twins?”

“Mary and Anna. That way, when they’re called in from play, it’ll sound like one name: Maryanna.”

“Oh, I like that.”

“Me too.” All of a sudden, Rebekah’s face lit up. And just that quickly, she blushed pink.

Rose couldn’t help but notice Silas looking their way again. Was he the one having such an effect on Rebekah?

“Well, I’d best be talkin’ with some of the others,” Rebekah said, nearly out of breath.

Rose didn’t dare look back over her shoulder again; she would let Silas seek her out as he always did. Feeling out of sorts over Rebekah’s comments and behavior, she went to find her woolen shawl and stepped outside into the cold night, glad she’d worn her sturdy black leather shoes.

The air was crisp and smelled like more snow soon to come. Dat had always said there was something sweet about the atmosphere prior to a big snowstorm. Thus far this evening, they’d gotten only a skiff of the white stuff.

She noticed Cousins Melvin and Noah walking with two girls, but she couldn’t make out who they were. It was nice to see two brothers double-date in the older one’s courting buggy, especially on a wintry night. She smiled fleetingly, then felt sad, thinking of Nick and Christian.

Never close enough to double-date . . . and always so opposed to each other
.

After a few minutes, she headed back inside the barn to get warm. In just the short time Rose was gone, Rebekah had managed to find Silas, or the other way around. The two of them were talking and laughing in a circle over in the corner with three young men.

Rose stood there quietly observing, feeling quite left out . . . puzzled. Silas was caught up in conversation with Rebekah nearly to the exclusion of the others, and the more Rose watched him, the more she realized he must be oblivious to Rebekah’s apparent interest in him, or he would be more guarded.

Rose moved about the barn, hoping she might somehow attract his attention. But to no avail.

Eventually, she became frustrated—and hurt—at her inability to catch her own fiancé’s eye. A thought struck her: Was this the way Silas had felt about her friendship with Nick? Oh, she hoped not! Perplexed, she turned quietly and headed for the barn door again. This time, though, she took off walking toward home without waiting for Silas to finish talking with Rebekah, who’d said quite distinctly that she knew why she’d come back to Lancaster.

The wintry scent that hung in the air earlier answered its promise with a cloudburst of white. The snow fell fast around Rose as she hurried home, thick flakes multiplying as she pressed on, thankful for no wind. Rose came upon the Amish cemetery, its rows of white markers rectangular mounds of snow against the night.

It was then she heard the gut-wrenching sound of a man weeping—heard it before she saw the dark figure hunched over a single gravestone. Concerned, she stepped near to peer over the white picket fence lining the perimeter. Much to her surprise, she saw Bishop Aaron kneeling on the ground, his hatless head leaning against his strong arms as he clung to the small tombstone.

“My son . . . my precious son” came his cries, lingering in the air as wet flakes swiftly covered the ground.

Her heart went out to him, and she wished with everything in her that somehow time could be reversed, that Christian could still be alive.

The bishop’s keening rang into the snow-dotted sky as Rose whispered a prayer. “Our bishop is a desperate man, O Lord. Please send someone to help him this night, this week. And may his heart be open to receive that help, whatever it may be . . . and whenever it comes. Amen.”