Authors: Marta Perry
As she neared the house she saw people on the back porch, so she stopped there, rather
than at the front. Lydia was already coming to meet her, smiling widely, her face
lit with pleasure. For better or worse, she was here.
Chloe slid out and rounded the car. Before she could speak, Lydia had enveloped her
in a hug. Chloe hadn’t intended to greet her this way, but Lydia’s pleasure was so
obvious, her grip so warm, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to return
her hug.
“I am wonderful glad you are here at last.” On her own turf, Lydia was relaxed and
smiling, the constraint she’d showed at the restaurant gone. “I’ve been longing for
this day. We all have.” She gestured toward the people grouped behind her.
Chloe hadn’t expected a welcome party. Adam stood a couple of steps away, still rather
severe-looking, but he managed a nod.
“You are wilkom to our home, Chloe.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. She could be pleasant, for Lydia’s sake, even though he seemed
to find it a struggle.
Lydia drew an older couple forward. “Chloe, you must meet my mamm and daad. Your aunt
Anna and onkel Joseph, ja?”
The woman wore a dark dress and apron that would have seemed drab if not for the smile
that lifted her lips and made her blue eyes sparkle. The man had a beard, like Adam,
only longer and grayer. His lean face was crinkled with smile lines, conveying an
image of strength softened by kindness.
She held out her hand and then wondered whether a handshake was acceptable. But he
took her hand in both of his.
“Your father was my older brother,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Chust in case you’re
having trouble sorting out the family.”
“Onkel Joseph,” she said. Somehow the words didn’t sound as strange as she’d have
expected. She’d never had an uncle before other than Brad, her courtesy uncle. “Did . . .
Did you and our father look alike?”
“Ach, ja,” Aunt Anna said. “They were like enough to be twins, folks always said,
though Eli was three years older.” Without waiting for an invitation, Aunt Anna gave
her a swift hug.
So her father would have looked like this, if he’d lived. Black pants, suspenders
crossing still-broad shoulders, straw hat perched squarely on graying hair. And an
overall sense that here was someone who knew his place in the world and was content.
Maybe that was what had drawn Diane to Eli.
“Our three boys wanted to bring their families to meet you, but we thought this was
enough for today,” Anna said. “They’d be your cousins, though Lydia has always considered
them brothers.”
Chloe nodded, relieved that she didn’t need to meet any more previously unknown relatives
today. This was confusing enough. She glanced at Lydia and asked the question on her
mind. “Did you know you were adopted? When you were young, I mean?”
Lydia nodded, but it was Anna who answered. She was obviously the chatty one in the
family.
“Ja, we explained to her from the time she could understand. She didn’t remember anything,
you see, so she had to start all over again at five.” Anna’s lips trembled with remembered
sorrow.
“That must have been difficult for you.” Chloe tried to imagine what it would be like
to have an injured five-year-old suddenly become your responsibility.
“Hard, ja. But God gave us such wonderful happiness, too.” She gave Lydia a loving
look, making Chloe’s heart twist.
A small figure emerged from behind Lydia. “Is it our turn yet, Mammi?” he asked in
a stage whisper.
Lydia smiled. “Ja, David, it’s your turn.” She drew a slightly taller version of the
child from behind her husband and pushed them both forward. “Daniel, David, tell your
aunt Chloe you are happy to meet her.”
The older boy stepped forward at once. “I am happy to meet you, Aunt Chloe. I’m Daniel.
I’m eight.”
Chloe held out her hand, and he shook it gravely. “It’s very nice to meet you, Daniel.”
Her throat grew tight at the feel of that small hand in hers. The two boys were very
much alike with their fine blond hair cut bowl-shape, their even features, their huge
blue eyes.
“I’m David.” The young boy seemed to take his cue from his brother, pushing forward.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he echoed. He looked up at her with a sudden, mischievous
grin that set him apart from his brother’s more serious expression.
“I’m glad to see both of you at last. I never had nephews before.”
“We had aunts,” David said.
“But not Englisch aunts,” Daniel added.
Did he consider that a good thing or a bad thing? She wasn’t sure.
“I brought something for each of the boys.” She sent a glance toward Lydia. “I hope
that’s all right.” Maybe she should have checked first, but there hadn’t been time.
“Ja, that’s fine,” Lydia said.
Chloe returned to the car and reached in the backseat to pull out the baseball and
bat. The sporting goods store clerk had assured her that they were the right size
for the boys’ ages.
Their eyes seemed to grow even rounder as she presented the gifts. “For us?” Daniel
said. He looked toward his parents.
Lydia nodded, smiling. Adam . . . She sensed something negative coming from Adam for
an instant, and then it was gone, and he was nodding as well.
Permission granted, the boys seized the presents. David began ripping the packaging
from the ball, but Daniel paused. “Denke, Aunt Chloe. It was wonderful kind of you.”
He elbowed his brother.
“Denke, Aunt Chloe,” David responded. “Look, it’s just the kind I wanted.”
“Why don’t you go try them out,” Lydia suggested. “We must not keep Aunt Chloe standing
outside. Where is your bag? I’ll show you your bedroom.”
Chloe pulled the small overnight case from the trunk. The men melted away after the
boys, and she followed the two women into the house.
The back door led through a small mudroom into the kitchen. Chloe glanced around,
relieved to find that for the most part it looked like any other kitchen. Plain wooden
cabinets covered one wall, and what looked similar to a camping light hung over a
long wooden table. There were pots of growing plants on the sunny windowsills, and
a comfortable-looking rocker stood next to the stove. It was an ordinary gas stove,
she was relieved to see.
“Something smells wonderful,” she said, inhaling a rich aroma.
“Lydia is making chicken potpie for our supper,” Aunt Anna said. “She makes a wonderful-gut
chicken potpie.”
“Mamm made the fruit pies for dessert,” Lydia said, seeming eager to share the credit.
She nodded toward three lightly browned pies waiting on the countertop.
“They’re beautiful. I know it takes an expert hand to make pastry that light.”
Anna flushed a little, ducking her head as if avoiding the praise. “It’s nothing.”
“Here is the dining room,” Lydia said, leading the way through to the front of the
house. “But we usually eat in the kitchen. I do my sewing in here, because the room
is so light, and the boys do their schoolwork at the table.”
A yellow-lined tablet lay open on the table. Someone, presumably David, had been practicing
his letters.
“The living room.” Lydia gestured as she led the way up the stairs. “In the back of
the house is the laundry and the pantry, and up here we have four bedrooms and the
bathroom.”
No outhouse, then, thank goodness.
“This will be your room. Ours is across, and the boys’ there. The other room . . .”
Lydia hesitated. “Ach, we had hoped to fill them all up with kinder, but it hasn’t
happened.”
The sorrow in her face was clear, and Chloe wasn’t sure if she should speak or not.
Surely their strict rules didn’t prohibit the use of modern medicine. “Do you . . .
That is, have you spoken to a doctor about it?”
“Ja, I went to Sarah first, our midwife, and she sent me to a specialist for some
tests. At the big clinic over in Fisherdale. The doctors could find nothing wrong,
so I must accept that it will happen when God wills.”
Anna was nodding in agreement. Apparently that acceptance was part of being Amish.
Chloe wasn’t sure she could manage it. And how would her mother have done, in similar
circumstances?
“Ach, what am I thinking, keeping you standing here with your suitcase?” Lydia seemed
to make an effort to shake off her obvious sadness. She led the way into the closest
bedroom. “Here is your room when you are with us.”
The bedroom was plain and simple, as she’d expect of an Amish home, but the double
bed was covered with a postage stamp quilt worked in a lovely double wedding ring
design. Chloe went to it immediately, touching the nearly invisible stitches.
“This is amazing needlework. I can’t begin to guess the time it must take to do a
quilt like this one.”
Her aunt Anna flushed with pleasure but ducked her head as if to avoid the praise.
“It is something I love to do, is all. Keeps my hands busy in the winter, especially.
I mind your mother wanted to learn to quilt, and I tried to teach her.”
Chloe had to smile at the way that was phrased. “Was she impossible with a needle,
like me?”
“She was better at other things,” Anna said tactfully. “But she did make a nine-patch
crib quilt for each of you girls when she was expecting you.”
Lydia nodded. “You gave me mine when Daniel was on the way.”
Chloe felt a bit lost. Lydia had at least been brought up knowing about their mother
in a natural way.
“I still have yours,” Anna said, reaching out hesitantly to touch Chloe’s arm. “I
will bring it to you tomorrow, if you want.”
“I’d like that.” Chloe’s throat tightened, and she made an effort to swallow. Was
she destined to be blindsided with emotion the entire time she was here?
“The bathroom is right next door to you,” Lydia said. “And don’t worry about how much
hot water you use. We have plenty.”
The news about the bathroom was a relief on several counts. “Okay, thanks.” She set
her small suitcase on the straight wooden chair in the corner.
“Now, would you like to rest after your trip, or would you like to see the rest of
the place before supper?” Lydia asked.
“I’m not tired. Why don’t you show me around?” This was her opportunity to ask questions
about the life her mother had led in this place, and she wasn’t going to waste it.
Maybe here she would find the answers she needed.
C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN
L
ydia
led the way through the house, from the smallest bedroom, where Aunt Anna said Chloe
had slept as a baby, to the basement, clean, bare, and empty.
Chloe glanced around. “Do the boys play in here on rainy days?”
“Sometimes, ja. Mostly we use this when it is our turn to host worship service.”
“It’s a gut space for worship,” Anna said. “In Eli and Diane’s time, the washer was
down here, also the storage for canned goods. Eli didn’t want Diane going up and down
the stairs so much, especially when she was expecting, so he built the laundry room
and pantry upstairs.”
It was a little fact about the father whose face and personality had long eluded her.
He had been protective of his wife, it seemed. And having seen Joseph, she could begin
to imagine his appearance.
“Komm, we’ll walk around outside while the sun is still warm.” They went upstairs,
but Aunt Anna stopped in the kitchen.
“You two go on and look around. I’ll chust start mixing the dumplings. It will be
suppertime before you know it.”
Lydia nodded, and the two of them went back out onto the porch. “She is giving us
a chance to be alone together, I think. We haven’t really had that before, ain’t so?”
Chloe nodded, not having figured out the correct response to the phrase the Amish
often seemed to add, turning a sentence into a question.
“You have cows and horses?” That was probably a stupid question, since she could see
both animals from where they were standing.
“Ja, just two cows for milk and now a couple of calves we’re raising for market. The
two horses are used mostly with the buggy and wagon. Daad has a team of draft horses
he uses with the plow, and we can borrow them when we need them.”
“And that’s the orchard you told me about in your letter.”
“Ja.” They walked toward the trees. Daniel and David, spotting them, came running
to join them. The boys fell into step with them, and David’s hand slid into Chloe’s.
Chloe’s heart warmed. Here was one person who accepted her, it seemed.
“Some of the fruit trees were here when our mother and father moved here. Others they
added.” Lydia waved to a section of what were obviously smaller trees. “Adam and I
planted the cherry trees.”
It was quiet and shady under the trees, and the very air seemed filled with the scent
of growing things. Peaceful. Maybe that peace was part of what Diane had cherished
here. Chloe could certainly understand that lure.
“There’s something I want to show you.” Lydia took her hand as naturally as David
had and led her to the center of the orchard. “This was the tree I told you about.
Both Mamm and our neighbor, Seth’s mother, remembered seeing Diane telling us stories
here. They each said how much Diane loved this tree.” She tilted her face back to
look up into its branches.
Chloe did the same. What had their mother seen in this old, gnarled apple tree that
had made her love it? True, the stillness was intense here, the sense of distance
from the busy world so real you could almost imagine you were in another time. Another
world. Maybe that was it.
“I fell from way up there,” David said, pointing to the scar of a broken branch, pale
against the weathered bark.
“I hope you didn’t get hurt.” Chloe looked from the child’s face to Lydia’s, questioning.
“That seems awfully high for him to climb.”
“Ja, they both know it was wrong.” Lydia gave the boys a severe look that didn’t quite
mask the devotion in her eyes. “He had some bumps and scrapes, that was certain-sure.
And he won’t do something so ferhoodled again.”
“I won’t, Mammi.” David studied his toes.
“The tree is old and badly cracked in places,” Lydia said. “Adam trimmed it to try
and save it. I would not want to see it come down.”
“No.” Chloe put her hand on the rough bark. It was warm under her palm, almost like
a living creature. Perhaps her mother had done the same. It was as if she were touching
her mother’s hand through the years. “I wouldn’t, either.”
* * *
Lydia
found she was breathing a little easier when supper was over. It seemed to her that
Chloe stiffened up a little when Adam and Daad were there. But once everyone had eaten
probably more than their fill of chicken potpie, mashed potatoes, rhubarb sauce, bread
and butter pickles, dried corn pudding, and Mamm’s pies, the men had departed for
the chairs on the front porch, the boys headed out to do their evening chores, and
the women were left alone in the kitchen.
“Let me dry,” Chloe said, snatching the tea towel before Mamm could reach it.
“You should relax. You’re our guest.” Lydia set an armful of plates in the hot soapy
water.
Chloe’s smile held an edge of determination. “If I’m family, then I get to help. I
might not be much of a cook, but I can certainly dry dishes.”
“I will put away then,” Mamm said, settling it. “Chloe won’t know yet where things
go, ain’t so?”
Giving in, Lydia put the first hot rinsed plates in the drainer. “You are family,
that’s certain-sure. I just thought you might be tired from the trip.”
“Not at all.” Chloe glanced out the window over the sink, apparently watching the
boys shooing the chickens in for the night. “I guess boys don’t do the dishes.”
Lydia felt sure her surprise was showing in her face. “Why should they? They have
other chores. If I had a daughter . . .” The pause was, she hoped, not noticeable.
“. . . she would help in the house.”
Chloe shrugged. “One of my friends has three children, and she insists the boys learn
to do dishes and laundry as well as their sister. I suppose she feels that when they’re
on their own, they’ll need to know how.”
Lydia had told herself she should be ready for questions about the difference between
Amish life and the world’s ways, but she hadn’t expected this one. “Adam and the boys
would do what they must if they had to, but why would they need to?”
Chloe set a plate on the counter. “What if you were sick? Or had some other problem?”
That was easy enough to answer. “In times of trouble, I could count on Mamm, or my
sisters-in-law, or any of the church sisters. They would be here without being asked
to help out.”
It seemed so obvious to her, but it clearly wasn’t to Chloe. Something about her mutinous
look reminded Lydia of David. Surely they weren’t going to argue over something as
foolish as washing dishes, were they?
“I have such happy memories of washing dishes with my sisters,” Mamm said, her voice
soothing. “And with your mamm, too. We enjoyed getting the men and boys out of the
way so we could talk of women things.” Her smile was gentle. “I mind we were washing
dishes when she told me you were on the way, Chloe. Susanna was toddling around the
kitchen, walking from chair to chair, and Lydia was helping me dry. Funny, how bright
a memory can be after so many years. Diane looked so happy and peaceful.”
Chloe’s hands had stilled on the dish she was drying, and Lydia had to blink away
tears.
“Thank you,” Chloe said softly. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Ja.” Lydia could understand why Mamm hadn’t told her that story before, but those
years of secrecy had been harmful to both of them. What difference might it have made
if she’d grown up knowing about Susanna and Chloe? She wasn’t sure.
Unfortunately, there was another story about their mother she’d have to share, and
it must be soon. She had to show Chloe the contents of the toy dower chest.
The opportunity didn’t come until later in the evening. Or at least, that’s what Lydia
told herself. Maybe she’d just been putting it off as long as possible.
She stood outside Chloe’s bedroom door, the box cradled against her like a boppli.
Chloe had just come up, so surely she wouldn’t be in bed yet. She tapped on the door.
“Chloe? May I come in?”
Chloe swung the door open. She’d slid her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers, but
otherwise she was still dressed. “Sure, come in.” She glanced at the dower chest.
“I wanted to show you this sometime when we didn’t have the boys trying to get your
attention.”
Daniel and David had warmed up to their new aunt, introducing her to the farm board
game that was their current favorite. Chloe had played with every sign of enjoyment,
though it probably wasn’t her idea of the best way to spend an evening.
“I loved playing with them.” Chloe sat on the bed, curling one leg under her. “What
do you have there?”
Lydia sat down and put the box between them. It was only right that Chloe should know.
There’d been enough secrets. But still, she found herself longing for a reason not
to show her sister the journal.
“This box is what we would call a dower chest. A toy one,” she added. “For a little
girl to keep her treasures in. Our daad made it for me when I was small.”
Chloe traced the lines of the box with her fingertips. “I know what dower chests are.
We have some very old ones in the museum’s collection. This is beautiful work. I didn’t
know he was a craftsman.”
Lydia smiled. “I don’t know that he would have called himself by that word. It was
just something he did on the side.” Like Adam’s clocks.
“You’re lucky to have it after all these years,” Chloe said.
“I’ve actually only had it for a short time.” Lydia drew in a breath, wishing this
were easier. “Mamm had used it to put some private things of our mother’s in. To save
for us.”
“I see.” There was a question in Chloe’s eyes, but at least she didn’t voice it. She
was no doubt wondering how someone like Mamm had come to be drawn into such a difficult
secret.
“There is something that should belong to you.” Lydia lifted the lid. “This Bible
must have been hers when she was a girl. It’s in Englisch, so I want you to have it.”
Chloe took it gently, handling the Bible as if it were made of glass. “Are you sure?
Your mamm probably saved these things for you.”
“Ach, no, she agreed with me about the Bible. It is yours.” Lydia put her hand over
her sister’s on the Bible, and it seemed to her that a wordless wave of love flowed
between them.
That seemed to make the rest of what she must say even harder.
She cleared her throat. “There is not much more. A pressed violet, maybe something
that reminded her of our father.” She showed her, marveling at the fragile memento
of a long-ago love, still here when the lovers were gone.
Chloe brushed away a tear. “They didn’t have much time together.”
“No.” What else was there to say? “And then there’s this.” Lydia took out the journal
and handed it to Chloe.
She opened it, maybe not knowing at first what it was. Then her face cleared. “A journal.
Diane kept a journal of her life here?”
“Ja. I have read through much of it. She didn’t write every day. Maybe just when she
had something she wanted to express or remember.”
Chloe nodded, her eyes on the book as she turned the pages. “I never even hoped to
find something like this—something that would bring her alive to me.”
“Ja, that is how I felt.” Lydia took a breath. “But there is something that I found
upsetting. I think it is only right that you should see it.”
Chloe’s eyes were wide, questioning.
Lydia nodded to the book. “Toward the back. I put a slip of paper in it.”
She wanted to say more. To explain that it was only one paragraph out of a whole life;
to protest that it could have been a whim born of a bad day. But she held her tongue.
Chloe found the page and read. She looked up at last. “But this—this sounds as if
she wasn’t as happy as everyone has been saying. If she was thinking about going home
again . . .”
“It might have been just a passing thought. I could find no other reference to such
a thing in the whole book. Only that one time.”
“She may not have felt she could write about it other times, even if she felt it.”
Chloe’s voice had an edge.
“Ja, that’s true.” Be calm, Lydia cautioned herself. “She might have thought it was
disloyal to her husband to write it down, even in her private journal.”
“She sounds unhappy.” Chloe tapped the page.
“Only there,” Lydia protested. “Read the whole thing. You’ll see. There are many places
where she talks about how happy she is.”
Chloe nodded, but Lydia could see she wasn’t convinced.
Sorrow closed around Lydia’s heart. She and Chloe had begun to act like sisters. To
feel like sisters. Was this revelation about their mother going to spoil their relationship
when it had barely begun?
* * *
Seth
followed his mamm and sister toward the picnic tables in Lydia and Adam’s backyard
Sunday afternoon. Lydia’s whole family was invited to meet Chloe, and she’d included
the Miller family as well, either because they were the closest neighbors or possibly
so Chloe would have another Englischer there.
Seth had a feeling Chloe might need a little support about now. She’d spent twenty-four
hours with her new Amish family, which had to be an emotional strain. And now she
was undoubtedly the center of attention for a whole crowd of Amish.
Well, now she’d have him, though he wasn’t sure how much difference that would make
to her.
He spotted Chloe helping Lydia spread a cloth over a picnic table. Lydia’s brothers’
wives were similarly occupied, and they all seemed to be talking at once. Chloe looked
okay, if a little reserved.
He was headed toward her when Lydia’s brother Andrew clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Seth, wilkom. How about helping me set up the volleyball net?” Andy’s grin didn’t
harbor any of the suspicion with which some of the Amish still looked at him. Maybe
the Leit were getting used to having him around.
“So I can beat you, Andy?” he asked, grinning.
“You wish,” Andy answered with a slang expression left over from his rumspringa. He
had been just starting his running-around time when Seth was getting serious about
leaving for good.