A Time for Peace (20 page)

And Matthew . . . what he'd said about her not really understanding the Amish way if she didn't realize that he'd had to obey her father's stricture to stay away from her. It pained her to realize he was right. Obeying authority, respecting it even when it went against what you wanted—especially if against what you wanted—well, that was part of the ultimate obedience to God.

She stared out the window at the fields they were passing, squares of brown, gold, ochre, and fading green that so looked like patches on a quilt. She was bound to this family and this land and these people like the stitches that bound the quilt squares, woven into a tapestry of love and faith.

Peace settled over her like her beloved quilt and she sighed and slept.

M
iss? Miss?"

Jenny woke and found the woman who sat next to her staring at her in concern.

"This is your stop, isn't it?"

Blinking, trying to focus, Jenny saw that it was, indeed.Thank goodness the woman had remembered from their brief conversation at the beginning of the journey.

"Yes, thank you!" she told her fervently. She gathered up her things and prepared to disembark. "I can't believe I slept so long. I've been so tired lately."

The woman's glance went to Jenny's abdomen. "Are you?"

Even though Jenny wasn't very alert yet, she caught the implication. Maybe it was because Hannah and her grandmother had asked her such a question recently.

She shook her head and tried to smile. "No. We've just had a lot going on at home."

"Do you have children?" The woman who appeared to be in her late sixties smiled at her.

"Three," Jenny told her. "Joshua, Mary, and Annie."

"That's a small family for the Amish, isn't it? But then again, you're young. Maybe God will bless you with more."

He'd have to do that with adoption but that wasn't really a subject Jenny wanted to share with a stranger and besides, there wasn't enough time. The train was already slowing for her stop.

"Well, just think, I met a celebrity," the woman mused."Can't wait to tell my friend, Cynthia."

"I'm hardly a celebrity."

"Sure you are. Or you were. And such a nice one."

Surprised, Jenny thanked her.

"It was nice to hear how you ended up getting married and all. Going in to New York to do some television work?"

Jenny shook her head. "I'm seeing my editor. I'm working on a book."

"Well, it was so nice to have met you," the woman said.

"I enjoyed meeting you, too." She tucked her writing pad into her carry-on.

"Think about writing about your story," the woman suggested."Not just the ones about the children overseas. I mean your love story, about meeting the man you loved when you were a teenager and met again."

"I'll think about that," Jenny said although she doubted she'd share something so personal. And things still felt a bit tenuous right now in her marriage.

But hope. Yes, she had hope.

"Well, you take care of that business you have in New York City and get back to your family. And have a wonderful Christmas. It's not far off now."

Christmas. The woman was right, thought Jenny as she disembarked and saw the decorated store windows. Maybe after she finished seeing her editor she'd have a little time for a little Christmas shopping. It wouldn't be for glitzy gifts—those weren't exchanged by the Amish. But something small might be nice.

There was a display in a nearby window, little snow globes of the city. Annie had seen a snow globe in a store in town one day and been fascinated in it. She might like it. Joshua was easy. All she had to do was find something like a book about horses and he'd happily settle in his room with it for hours.And Mary, sweet, quiet Mary. She loved that journal Jenny had given her once. A new one would be welcome, Jenny was sure. Maybe some fabric to make a dress—Mary was becoming quite the seamstress—that would be good.

And Matthew . . . she was sure just holding out the hand of forgiveness was all he wanted.

Suddenly woozy, she nearly missed her step. A man caught her arm and steadied her. She turned and thanked him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, giving him a grateful smile.

But she walked over and sat down on a bench when the woozy feeling continued. It must be that her body, not fully awake, was reacting to the rocking motion of the train, she told herself. Once she felt recovered, she hailed a cab and went on to the hotel.

She'd just settled in when she got a call on the hotel phone.It was Matthew.

"Sorry I didn't call before," she said, pulling off her jacket and sinking down on the bed. "I just got to the hotel."

He talked to her for a few minutes and then she could hear Annie, impatient as always, asking to talk to her.

"
Mamm,
my teacher loved my short story!" she cried when she got on the phone. "She wants me to read it after the school Christmas play!"

Jenny congratulated her, wondering if she was going to become the second writer in the family. Joshua got his turn and wanted her to know that the doctor said his wrist was healing nicely. Mary came on and reported that her baby cousin had smiled at her that afternoon.

Warmed by the sound of their eagerness to talk to her, to share their day, Jenny sat there on the bed for a long time after Matthew had come on again and they hung up.

She unpacked her things and found a plastic bag she hadn't put in the carry-on. Glitter fell out of the bag when she opened it. The children had made her cards and Annie's had a clump of glittered letters on the front.

"Have fun," the card said on the front. Inside, she'd written, "Love, your daughter, Annie." The cards the other children had created were just as sweet—although they hadn't used the abundance of glitter Annie loved.

Just what she needed, she thought. Smiling, she pulled the coverlet from the bed over her and lay staring at the cards for a long time before she fell asleep again, still dressed in her clothes, and slept through the night.

The meeting with her editor, a blond dynamo in her thirties, lasted several hours. Sally wanted to show her the marketing campaign for the book that would be released in the spring.

Once that was over, they ate lunch in a small restaurant near the publisher's and caught up on all the news about their families. Sally shared photos of her twins who it seemed had grown a foot since Jenny had last seen them. Jenny told Sally that the Amish didn't like having photos taken so she didn't have any to share but Sally said that she'd painted such wonderful word pictures of them in the years that they'd known each other that she felt she could see them.

"Maybe one day you'll be able to bring your husband and children to the farm to meet mine," Jenny said as they parted.

"Or you can bring yours to the city," Sally suggested. "Jenny, are you feeling all right? You look pale."

"Just a little rundown, I expect. I told you about all that has been happening."

Sally bit her lip as she continued to regard at Jenny. "When's the last time you went to a doctor?"

"A while," Jenny admitted. "But I'm fine. I think I might even do a little shopping before I go home."

But she found herself staring at her reflection in a shop window after Sally hurried back to her office and wondered if she should call her doctor while she was here. She'd been dragging for too long now.

When the receptionist heard her name, she told Jenny to come over right away. "The doctor was just saying the other day she wondered how you were doing. I know she'd want me to get you right in while you're in town."

So Jenny climbed into a cab for another wild New York City ride that had her wondering if she'd keep her lunch down on the way.

Jenny's doctor was happy to see her, just as the receptionist had said she'd be and ushered her right into her office. She sat in a chair next to Jenny instead of sitting behind her desk.

"So, any luck getting pregnant?" she asked, looking hopefully at Jenny's waist.

Jenny shook her head. "I thought about asking you for a referral to a fertility specialist like we discussed last time. But it's so expensive. We have so many things the money might be better spent on. Besides, I'm not sure it's the right thing. I mean, if it's God's will for us to have a baby, we will."

She sighed. "Well, I have to tell you, I'm still working on that last part."

Dr. Ross patted her shoulder. "It's not an easy thing for any couple of any religion to face problems getting pregnant. And I'm sure it's not easy having those problems and living in a community with such large families."

"I already have a large family in the eyes of some people," Jenny said. "Three is a lot if you think about it. And Matthew and I are talking about adoption."

She bit her lip, then plunged forward. "I don't want to be unhappy every month, wanting another child. Matthew's agreed to adopt."

"Good for you!" Dr. Ross exclaimed, looking genuinely happy. "I've seen too many couples grow apart because they can't conceive."

The doctor rose. "Now, why don't we see why you're feeling so tired lately. Not that being a mom and a homemaker and a writer won't do it, right?"

Jenny changed into a paper gown, produced a urine sample, and winced as a few vials of blood were drawn. Then she climbed onto the exam table and Dr. Ross came in.

A few minutes later, the doctor pushed back her wheeled stool, stood, and stripped off her exam gloves.

"Well," she said. "There's nothing that an infertility specialist can help you with."

Jenny immediately went back to the hotel, checked out, and got on the next train home.

She couldn't stand being alone in the city for one more minute after the doctor visit. This time she had no trouble staying awake on the trip home, her thoughts and emotions just one big jumble.

All she wanted now was to be home with her family. The longer she was on the train, the more desperate she felt to be with them.

Then she realized that she was going to arrive home at an awkward time. Rather than wake Matthew, she found a cab and told herself the expense was worth it. So she'd have to find a way to stretch the budget. Matthew wouldn't be upset with her. He'd understand when he heard the news, she told herself.

Letting herself into the house, she glanced at the kitchen clock and saw that her family would be getting up in about an hour. The burst of adrenalin that had driven her home, the stress of it all, fizzled. Her feet felt like lead and the stairs ahead looked like they stretched for a mile. Dumping her carry-on and purse, she curled up on the sofa, drew the quilt on the back of it over her, and fell asleep immediately.

Dreams chased after each other, images of children playing hide and seek, running in and out of dark places and into sunlight, back into darkness and then back into the light.

A butterfly landed on her cheek and fluttered its delicate wings. She brushed at it and it giggled. Jenny smiled at the familiar sound and with her eyes closed, reached out and grasped Annie.

"You're back!" Annie cried. "Hey,
Daedi,
Joshua, Mary!
Mamm's
back!" she yelled.

Jenny released her and pressed her hands to her ears. "And has lost her hearing!" She grabbed Annie again and hugged her tightly.

"You're squeezing me."

"Too bad," Jenny told her. "Oh, it's so good to be back."
"You're home early!" Matthew exclaimed as he walked into the room, dressed but his hair still tousled from bed. "Why didn't you call me? I'd have come to pick you up."

"Couldn't wait," she said, releasing Annie.

He eyed her uncertainly. "You alright? Everything go okay with your editor?"

She nodded. "The meeting went fine." She accepted a hug from Mary and Joshua.

"I have something to tell all of you," she said, taking a deep breath.

"Wait," said Matthew, walking over to retrieve a fat envelope from a nearby table. He handed it to Jenny. "Me first. Just this once."

She stared at the address on it. "You called them?"

He nodded. "They said they'd put an application in the mail the same day and they must have. It came yesterday."

How to tell him? she wondered. "I don't think I can do it."

His face fell. "You changed your mind?"

"Yes." She patted the place next to her on the sofa. "Here, sit down."

"Okay," he said slowly. He looked at the children and they looked at him.

"But we like 'doption," Annie said and her bottom lip quivered."
Daedi
got the papers."

Joshua and Mary nodded.

"I just don't think I can take care of two little babies by myself, even with the help of all of you," she told them.

"Two," Matthew repeated, clearly confused.

Jenny pressed her hand to her abdomen. "Yes. It would be too much for me. I'm sorry."