Winter of Wishes (6 page)

His smile warmed her like a cup of cocoa. “Thanks again. You have no idea how you’ve
brightened my life.”

And wasn’t that a worthwhile accomplishment? All the way home, Rhoda replayed his
words in her mind while Sheila drove her down the snow-packed blacktop.

It was wonderful-
gut
, a fine day in so many ways, Lord
, she prayed between their bits of conversation. Rhoda gazed out the van’s window
as the Lantz place came into view, across the road from the new house Ben was having
built for Mamma.
And I thank Ya for work that has made me so happy.

“This is such a cool apartment, Mamma!” Rebecca gazed at the pastels . . . soothing
blue and green bedrooms and a sunny yellow in the kitchen. “These walls that roll
on tracks to form different rooms are awesome! And to think Micah got his inspiration
from watching a little movie clip on my iPad last summer.”

“
Jah
, that was quite a time, honey-bug,” her mother replied as she put on the teakettle.
“We found
you
. And then we weren’t quite sure what to do about it, when Micah caught trouble from
the bishop for visitin’ with ya.”

“I’m glad that part’s behind us,” Rhoda joined in as she studied the contents of the
refrigerator. “Rachel and I are real happy about how ya turned out to be our sister.”

Closing her eyes, Rebecca reveled in the sincerity of these two accented, musical
voices. While she had felt close to the mother who had raised her, it had been wonderful
to discover her real roots. “I was quite a shock to your systems, showing up in my
black clothes, with a tattoo and spiked hair,” she recalled with a chuckle. “Just
lucky you saw beneath my surface, when I felt so betrayed by my folks . . . thought
I had nowhere to turn, after Mom died and couldn’t explain to me about that little
pink dress I’d found.”

“Oh, it was the hand of God at work, daughter,” Miriam said with a firm nod. “His
hand saved ya from drownin’ when ya washed away in the river’s current as a wee little
toddler. And His hand led ya to find that dress—”

“And then to find
us
. And to like us, too!” Rhoda continued. “From what Mamma tells me, ya stepped right
in, takin’ orders during this morning’s breakfast rush like ya were an old hand at
it.”

Rhoda flashed her a wide smile, so much like the one Rebecca saw in her mirror these
days. She’d hidden her emotions behind the black hair dye and the pale Goth makeup
that she, as Tiffany Oliveri, had believed was so dramatic, so flattering—until this
Plain family had accepted her with their unconditional love. The name
Rebecca
felt more comfortable now, too—more in tune with who she was becoming, now that she’d
gotten away from her former friends.

“Truth be told,” she said, imitating their Pennsylvania Dutch version of English,
“I waited tables while I was in college. So taking orders and clearing tables is no
big deal to me.”

“Well, I was mighty relieved to see ya step in that way,” Mamma assured her again.
“Poor Hannah was tryin’ her best, but she works better in the kitchen with her
mamm
.”

“She’s young yet,” Rebecca noted. “It’s mind-boggling to juggle all those little waitressing
tasks, until you’re used to it.”

“
Jah
, and I bet her older brothers Seth and Aaron, not to mention our cousins Nate and
Bram Kanagy, were givin’ her a hard time, too.” Rhoda emptied a quart jar of home-canned
green beans into a pan and sliced an onion into it. “They’ve got no idea how long
they take—or how much they eat! And their chatter about their dates gets irritatin’
when they go on and on as though I’m not in the room, too!”

“That sounds infuriating.” Rebecca watched her sister’s expressions as she vented.
“So who does that?”

“Are ya talkin’ about Ben’s brothers?” Mamma gazed earnestly at her other daughter.
“Ira and Luke’ve been gettin’ nervy that way when they’ve come to the house, too.
I was ready to say something to them on Thanksgivin’, so I’ll bring it up to Ben—”

“It’s no bother, Mamma,” Rhoda assured her quickly. “They can brag all they want about
takin’ Annie Mae Knepp and Millie Glick out. I’ve got bigger fish to fry!”

Rebecca laughed as she set three plates on the small table in the apartment’s tidy
kitchen. Rhoda had a freer sense of humor than their sister Rachel, and her spirit
seemed more mischievous than Rebecca had expected of an Amish girl, too. “So how’s
your new job? Was it scary to work with a lady who’d had a stroke? Did the kids help
you around the house, or were they a pain in the butt?”

Rhoda’s smile defied description: a pinch of mystery and a dash of satisfaction mixed
with a heaping helping of happiness. “Oh, Betty—Andy’s
mamm
—is such a sweet lady, even if half her face is droopy,” she said with a little shrug.
“After I washed and combed her hair today, you’d have thought I made her face muscles
snap back into place.”

“No matter how hard Andy might try, it’s not the same as havin’ your hair fixed by
somebody who halfway knows how.” Mamma looked up from the platter of fried chicken
she was about to warm in the oven. “The two kids are probably glad to have somebody
lookin’ after them, too, seein’s how their
mamm
’s not around.”

“
Jah
, I can’t imagine how any woman could leave them.” Rhoda shook her head. “They were
so excited when I made pancakes in the shapes of their initials, like nobody had ever
done that for them.”

Rebecca considered that . . . because it was a clever idea that Rhoda had carried
out as second nature. Nobody had ever made alphabet pancakes for
her
, either. It was her sister’s kitty-cat grin that made her speculate, however: Rhoda
seemed very happy about working in that English household, not to mention surprisingly
tolerant of the way Ben’s brothers had bragged about their conquests. “So what’s the
dad like? Did you say he was a nurse?”

“Almost finished with his schoolin’,
jah
,” Rhoda replied. “I’ll have to ask him not to go on and on about the
gut
work I do for him, though. It’s just not our way to get caught up in so many compliments,
you see.”

Oh, but Rhoda’s grin was shining like a clean windowpane, at the mention of the man
who had hired her. Rebecca filled their glasses with water. Whether she knew it or
not, Rhoda was showing all the signs of a crush like the ones she’d had on a couple
of her better-looking teachers in high school. Rebecca could well imagine what Hiram
Knepp, the taut-jawed bishop, would say if he caught a hint of this . . . just as
he would raise some pointed questions about her own private plan to return to Willow
Ridge.

“I liked Andy, though,” Mamma continued matter-of-factly. “Busy as he is, tryin’ to
finish his nursin’ degree, he sincerely wants to take care of his kids and his
mamm
. Nothin’s more important than faith and family, and Andy Leitner’s got a boatload
of faith even if he doesn’t go around talkin’ about it.”

Faith and family
. . . if ever there was a lead-in to what was on Rebecca’s mind today, her mother
had just handed her a key to what she hoped would be a new door for all of them. Rebecca
closed her eyes, gathering her strength.
It would be a wonderful thing if You’d give me some convincing words here, Lord, even
if I’m not so good about praying except when I want something
.

“This family idea has been on my mind a lot since I’ve gotten to know the three of
you Lantzes,” she began tentatively, “so . . . well, what would you think if I wanted
to move to Willow Ridge? Say, around the first of the year?”

Her mother’s brown eyes lit up. “And what’s bringin’ this on?” she asked, barely containing
her excitement. “I hope your
dat
’s doin’ all right—”

“Oh, he’s fine! But he’s selling the house, to move into a condo where he won’t have
yard work in the summer or snow to shovel in the winter—”

“Well, there’s a fine idea!” Rhoda remarked as they sat down to their dinner.

“—and, well . . . I think Dad might have a girlfriend he’s not saying much about yet.
He’s getting out more, and he seems pretty happy about it.”

The whole room vibrated with Mamma’s suppressed laughter. “
Jah
, we parents who’re lookin’ to have a social life can be a real mystery—or an embarrassment��to
our kids,” she remarked with a grin for Rhoda. “So we know how you’re feelin’ about
now. Like things aren’t such a
gut
fit anymore, while your home situation seems to be changin’ faster than you’re ready
for.”

How was it that this Plain woman had such a handle on the way she was feeling, even
though she hadn’t grown up as Miriam’s daughter? Rebecca relaxed.

“I hope that means you’ll want to bunk with
me
!” Rhoda chimed in. “Now that the Hooley brothers have moved into their apartment
above the new mill, and Rachel’s in the big house with Micah, and Mamma’s gettin’
a new home across the road, well—” Her arms opened wide to encompass the apartment
they now sat in. “We’ve got us a cozy nest here, Rebecca, and a nice blue room for
ya. If ya think ya can stand livin’ in such close quarters with the likes of
me
, that is.”

Rebecca’s hand fluttered to her mouth. Her eyes welled up with tears. Why had she
thought it would be difficult to make such a request of Miriam and Rhoda? Time and
again she’d seen these women welcome newcomers to their table and into their lives.
“I—I wasn’t sure how I might fit in, or who might already plan to live in the main
house, or—”

“You’re family, honey-bug,” her mother said with a sweet smile. “Not a one of us would
turn ya away, even if all of us—includin’ Ben and his brothers and the two Hooley
aunts—were gonna live in that house. I’m just so tickled ya want to come here, Rebecca!”

“
Jah!
So . . .” Rhoda studied her over a chicken leg. “Does this mean you’ll want to waitress
at the café all the time? I thought you were doin’ computer work.”

“And I am,” Rebecca replied quickly. “But my dream is to develop my own graphic-arts
business. It will take a while to build up enough clients to live on what I make.
I don’t want to be a mooch—”

“Ya don’t have a moochin’ bone in your body, child,” Miriam whispered as she reached
across the table for Rebecca’s hand. “Your folks raised ya right. And besides that,
ya come from Amish stock and some of those workin’ ways are bred right into ya, like
it or not!”

Again Rebecca got goose bumps. Oh, what a wonderful thing it was, to be so loved and
accepted by these women. “I like it just fine, Mamma,” she breathed. “I hope my living
here won’t cause you any problems with Hiram Knepp, or—”

“Puh!” Her mother reached for a second piece of chicken. “What with the bishop bein’
put under the ban for hidin’ that fancy car, he’s learnin’ humility like the rest
of us. And have ya ever known me to knuckle under just because Hiram thought he knew
what I needed better than I did?”

Rebecca laughed. Such a feisty spirit this woman had beneath her prayer kapp and apron.
“You certainly proved that when my dad bought your building, and again when you decided
to marry Ben instead of the bishop.”

“So there ya have it!” Rhoda crowed.

“For sure and for certain!” Miriam declared, grabbing her hand again. “For
gut
, and forever, Rebecca.”

“
Jah!
For
gut
and forever!” her sister echoed as she completed their circle around the little kitchen
table.

Rebecca held her breath, overwhelmed by the love that filled this room . . . by the
pulse that connected them with an inexplicable bond. It called to mind the morning
of Rachel’s wedding day, when she had dressed like her sisters: they’d obviously been
triplets on the outside, yet the three of them were even more deeply unified on a
level she’d never experienced. While being raised as the only child of Janet and Bob
Oliveri had been a wonderful life, this coming together with her kin moved her deeply.
Blood
was
thicker than water—and the love of Miriam, Rachel, and Rhoda Lantz had certainly
proved stronger than the river current that had carried her away as a toddler.

“Thank you so much,” she whispered. Then she grinned. “I think Dad might be just as
tickled as I am about this, when I tell him where I’m moving.”

“He’ll know you’re in
gut
company, amongst family,” her mother agreed as she helped herself to another slice
of bread. “It’ll free him up to make his own move forward, just like it’ll give ya
a way to start your computer business without goin’ out on too much of a limb. Once
again, it’s the hand of God nudgin’ everybody the way He wants us to go—just like
He’s done for Rhoda.”

Rebecca considered that as she helped herself to more of this simple, delicious meal.
“I guess I always thought of Amish women as stay-at-home mothers who mostly kept up
the house and did the gardening, and who expected their daughters to do the same.
I’m glad I was mistaken about that!”

“Oh, what you’re sayin’ is true,” Miriam replied, “because the Old Ways haven’t changed
for centuries. But losin’ the head of the household puts a whole ’nother twist into
things for a widow. I could’ve lived with my brothers’ families in Jamesport or Clark,
or asked some of Jesse’s family to take me in. But Willow Ridge is my home.”

A delightful smile lit her mother’s face. “Once I decided to bake, and Naomi jumped
in with me—on account of how her Ezra can’t work at his carpentry, after his accident—why,
all sorts of doors opened up. Now I’m wonderin’ if we’re gettin’ more business than
we can handle. But we’ll work it out,” Mamma insisted quickly. “After all, here
you
are, Rebecca, takin’ on some of the table-waitin’ like a pro. God’ll provide whatever
we need, whether it be gettin’ more help . . . or decidin’ that the new website is
stretchin’ us beyond where the Sweet Seasons is meant to go.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows rose as she passed on what her teachers had impressed upon her.
“Well, Mamma, nobody goes into business to get smaller—”

“That’s English thinkin’. We Plain folks don’t believe our livelihoods should overtake
our lives.” Mamma clasped her hands on the tabletop, her expression firm yet loving.
“While Derek Shotwell at the bank would sure enough loan me money to expand—and to
convince your
dat
to add on to the building—that’s not gonna happen. My faith and my family come first.
And what with gettin’ hitched and startin’ up in a new home with a fella a few years
younger than me, well . . .” Once again a grin lit up her mother’s face. “Let’s just
say I’m lookin’ forward to bein’ a bride again.”