A Time To Love (11 page)

Read A Time To Love Online

Authors: Barbara Cameron

Tags: #Love

But now as they drove along back roads, the slow pace, the repetitive clip-clop of the horse's hooves was soothing. Jenny felt her tension melt away like the snow melting beside the road. Matthew talked about the homes and farms and sights they passed, waved to people he knew, some Jenny had met. Talk became easier between them, and by the time they turned toward her grandmother's home, she began to feel that things were back to normal.

When they pulled up in front of the house, though, Jenny saw several men getting into buggies.

"I wonder why those church elders were here?" Matthew mused.

Jenny closed her eyes, then opened them. "I think I know. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

He hesitated.

"Please, can we talk later?"

He nodded and let her go.

Phoebe looked up from washing coffee cups at the sink."Did you have a nice drive?"

"Josiah talked to the elders, didn't he? I saw them leaving."

Phoebe wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face Jenny. "Yes. I didn't think he would take it this far, but I was wrong."

 

 

8

 

 

 

J
enny sat down. "Why am I afraid to hear why they were here?"

Phoebe brought them mugs of tea and pushed a plate of freshly baked cookies toward her. Jenny took the tea but had no appetite for cookies.

"They're concerned that you're here to do a story for your network."

Jenny laughed and then she just couldn't seem to stop. She covered her face with her hands, then dropped them and stared at her grandmother. "How can they think that? Look at me."

"Jenny, Jenny, Jenny," Phoebe said, shaking her head. "You are a beautiful young woman who has so much heart and so much intelligence. But you are so much more aware of your scars than anyone else. And your speech is improving by the day."

Her eyes filling with tears, Jenny shook her head. "And I have you to thank for helping me with the speech therapy."She sighed. "Oh, you are such a wonderful grandmother. But you see me differently than others do."

Phoebe shook her head. "You worry too much. But as to the elders, you need to remember that they don't know you as I do. They see people of the media as a threat to the Plain People, to our community."

"I understand that. I really do. A tourist was obnoxious with Matthew and me after a therapy appointment once," Jenny said. She told her grandmother what had happened.

"Josiah saw David here, and as you said, he represents something that Josiah fears—the
Englisch
bringing their curiosity, their technology, their money, which seems to enthrall our young," Phoebe said.

"And yet there are so many
Englisch
who are enthralled by the simplicity and spirituality of your life," Jenny pointed out. She stirred her tea but didn't drink it. "I told David that he can do a story about how I'm recovering. Thank goodness I made it really clear that he can't bring a crew here."

"Where will it be then?"

"I'm going to New York City next week. I'll be gone a few days."

She finally took a sip of her tea and found it cold. Getting up, she dumped the contents of her mug in the sink, then went to the stove for hot water.

"David knew what to do to make me—say yes—agree," she corrected herself. "He brought mail the network had received that showed me viewers were concerned about me." She laughed and shook her head. "David is so smart. He knew showing me was better than telling me."

"That's it, Jenny!" Phoebe cried. "You have your answer of how you can reassure the elders!"

Jenny blinked. "I do?"

Her grandmother went into her bedroom and returned with a big notebook. Sitting at the table again, she opened the book."I told you when you first came here that I enjoyed the letters you sent me from overseas."

"How can my letters reassure the elders?"

Phoebe drew out a big manila envelope. "Our talk of the letters reminded me of something else."

She pulled several printed sheets from the envelope." Although I had no television, I found a way to know what you did. I liked the letters you wrote from overseas about the children the best, but I found the ones where you talked about your friends at work to be so entertaining. You wrote such funny things about David."

She handed Jenny the printed sheets with the air of bearing a great gift.

"These are transcripts of my segments on the network."

"Yes, when I wrote David that I didn't have a television but wished to know what you did, he sent them."

"How will these convince them?"

"It's said that a man is known by his deeds," Phoebe told her. "They can see from these the type of work you do—these show you do stories about children. They speak loudly, don't you think?"

"You think that this will help?"

Phoebe nodded.

"Then I'll do it."

 

 

Hannah came to get Phoebe the next day. Since she was early and Phoebe was still dressing, Jenny invited her inside.

Acting as hostess for her grandmother, Jenny offered Hannah a seat and tea or coffee. But after taking a seat, Hannah shook her head, refusing the refreshment, and regarded Jenny with a frown.
Brother and sister look so much alike,
she thought. Especially when they frowned.

"Matthew says that you are going to New York City in a few days."

"Yes."

"But I thought you liked it here."

"I do. I just have to take care of some business."

"So you're going back to work then?"

Jenny shook her head as she sat at the table. "No, I'm not ready for that yet."

"But you will one day?"

Shifting in her chair, Jenny glanced in the direction of her grandmother's room, willing her to appear quickly. Matthew had said he often teased his sister for her direct way with conversation. She always had a point, he told Jenny, and he had to just wait to find out what it was.

"I'm not sure what the future holds," Jenny said quietly.

"There's been talk about your work. Some say you've been an important
Englisch
woman, that you've been on television."

Jenny wasn't surprised at the interest. She often experienced it in her world. "I just do my job."

"And it's an important one."

"No more than anyone else's."

"You are being humble, Jenny. Phoebe has shown me the papers about what you do."

"The children are the important ones," Jenny said quietly.

"I have seen for myself how you love them." Hannah said."And Matthew's
children
love you. Perhaps one day God will bless you with some of your own."

Jenny bit her lip. "Perhaps." The doctors hadn't held out much hope, but that was personal. She didn't want to share such information with Hannah.

When she saw the other woman hesitating, Jenny sighed. Was there yet another person who was upset with her?

"Hannah, do you have something you want to say to me?"

The woman nodded. "I was concerned that Matthew seemed unhappy when I came home last night."

"I know." It had hurt when she felt Matthew was upset with her. "We talked today," she said finally.

Hannah brightened. "Then you have fixed what is between you."

Before Jenny could respond, her grandmother entered the room. "Hannah, you're here early."

"Yes, I wanted to talk to Jenny. Are you ready to go?"

Phoebe pulled on her coat. "Jenny, are you sure you wouldn't like to go with us?"

"No, but thank you. I have some things to do." She sighed inwardly. It was the same excuse she'd given Matthew so that she could be alone.

But as the two women walked out, she thought how that hadn't worked then and it hadn't worked now. Picking up her mug of tea, she went to her room. If anyone else came to the house, she would pretend she wasn't home.

 

 

Of course she got over her mood.

And since she was leaving in a couple of days, Jenny knew she had to talk to the elders before she left. She didn't want them to be any more concerned than they were. If they heard that she had gone to New York City, they might worry that she would return with a film crew. So she took the list of names and addresses and mailed notes asking the elders to visit to talk.

The morning of the visit, she and her grandmother frosted a freshly baked cake —something to offer the men with their coffee. Well, her grandmother baked the cake. Jenny had little experience in the kitchen and figured that it would be very bad if her baking accidentally made the elders sick.

"I wish I knew how to cook," she told her grandmother.

"You don't know?"

Jenny shook her head, watching as Phoebe creamed butter and sugar. "Mom didn't want anyone in her kitchen. And she felt I should be studying." She shrugged. "It's not as important these days with people eating out so much. There's a
lot
of eating out. Microwaving. That sort of thing."

"Eating out is not cheap."

"I agree."

Phoebe sifted flour in a bowl. "And this
microwaving.
What is it?"

"I don't understand how it works, but it's the closest thing to putting food in a magic box where it cooks quickly. Very quickly."

Phoebe shook her head in wonder. "Imagine."

"But nothing it makes has ever tasted like your cooking. I think it's because the microwave doesn't use love when it cooks as you do." She hugged her. "Thank you for helping me today."

Phoebe patted Jenny's cheek. "You'll be fine. I'm sure you've had similar situations, have you not?"

"Well, yes," Jenny admitted. "I have had to use some persuasion to be allowed to go into places to see the children, to have a crew film them."

She looked down at her outfit, the slim tunic sweater and long wool skirt she'd worn that first Sunday. "And I don't dress 'American' when I go to countries where women are more covered."

She looked at the table set with coffee cups and plates and silverware. Smoothed napkins and took a last look at the cake. Not a bad frosting job she'd done, if she did say so herself.

"I think everything's ready," she told her grandmother.

"Well, there's one more thing we can do. We can pray."

Jenny took a deep breath and nodded. "Wonderful idea."

 

 

The men came after the noon meal, filing in silently and purposefully.

They took off their coats and wide-brimmed felt hats. Everyone sat at the table in the homey kitchen, where Jenny served them coffee and cake.

Two men Jenny hadn't met accompanied Josiah. To her relief, they didn't seem stern or judgmental as Josiah did.

"I wanted to talk to all of you about Josiah's concerns," Jenny said, looking at each of them in turn. "I came here because when I woke up injured in the hospital, I was covered with a quilt that my grandmother had sent for me."

She pressed her lips together, trying not to become too emotional; it was important to stay calm, to stay focused. "I felt I was wrapped in home. All I wanted to do was come here and heal in a place where I had been so happy many years ago."

"You were involved in a war," Josiah said with a frown.

"I didn't fight in a war," she told him. "I went there so that I could show people what war was doing to the children, the—" she paused, struggling for the right word—"innocent children."

"Do the people who watch television care about such things?"

Jenny nodded. "There are many things on television that not only the Plain People think are inappropriate, but also the
Englisch.
But sometimes, one of the good things on television can be a news program. I know that the media has at times been intrusive here, just as the tourists have been. But some of the networks, like the one I work, for show problems around the world that need to be addressed."

"If the
Englisch
took care of themselves and didn't interfere elsewhere, things might be better," Josiah stated emphatically.

"Perhaps. But there are those who would do bad things and hide what they are doing to the innocent—especially to the children. They're being maimed, killed, starved. Often orphaned."

She paused. "It's difficult to show you what I do since there's no television here. All I have are written accounts from several of the shows I did. And some articles I wrote for a newspaper. I hope that you'll read them and know better what I do."

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