Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (97 page)

“It sounds like you’re doing your college years a lot like I did mine—all work, no play. I don’t recommend it.”

“Martin does the event planning for us—band gatherings and stuff—but if he didn’t, I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Don’t you have something you do that’s just fun, something you’d really miss if you didn’t do it?”

“Sure, Kevin and Lissa.”

He chuckled. “I meant something indulgent. For me it’s ball games, major or minor league. Baseball is my favorite, but football ranks up there too.”

“But that’s …” She dropped the sentence, not wanting to make him defend himself.

“Not allowed in the Plain life? Uh, if it was, I probably never would have struggled with whether to remain Plain or not.”

“But how do you keep up with it—radio, television, newspaper?”

“Yes.”

She laughed. “Paul Waddell, you’re not allowed television and radios.”

“If during a game I just happen to go to a restaurant that has those televisions hanging from the ceiling, or if there’s a game on the radio while I’m riding in my car …”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

He shrugged. “Sure, but overall I believe in the Plain ways. I can’t see giving up the Plain Mennonite faith just because I enjoy an occasional spectator sport.”

“I guess having an area like that might help build a rapport with clients who aren’t Plain.”

“You know, that’s a really good excuse.” His smile spoke of jest, and she knew his quiet, respectful, noncooperation ways were showing again. He interlaced his fingers, staring at his hands. “I would have told you about this secret love, but I didn’t want to scare you away by telling you too soon.”

“Uh-huh. And does Dorcas know about this vice?”

“She thinks I’ve given it up.”

“I see. Afraid you’ll scare her off too?”

“Nah, she—”

“Women’s work.” Luke rounded the side of the house, carrying a tray of mugs with steam rising from them. “How do I always get roped into doing women’s work?”

Matthew followed, carrying a huge bowl of popcorn, while Kathryn toted the napkins and paper plates. Mary was last, carrying spoons.

The most genuine smile Hannah had seen yet revealed itself in Paul’s eyes and slowly edged his lips. Freedom to embrace life anew had taken place for him too. Closure between them mattered to him, and she knew it always would. She lifted a mug of hot chocolate from the tray.

She’d stay as long tonight as her brother wanted her to. They’d all play cards, and she’d probably end up laughing until her sides hurt, but she longed to return to her life in Ohio: the birthing clinic, nursing school and clinical rotations, and the two children who needed the home life she craved to give them.

And Martin. Her heart skipped a beat, and she could see him in her mind’s eye and feel inside her the warmth of who they were. Always. Always. Martin.

M
ist rose from the valley where the creek ran, and the new day’s sunlight skimmed the tops of the trees. Pulling her sweater around her a little tighter, Hannah leaned against her car, sipping a cup of coffee and waiting for Sarah to grab something from inside the house.

The trees swayed in the morning air, bearing leaves from light yellows to deep golds, from bright reds to sharp maroons. The movement seemed to beg Hannah to linger and watch. She loved Owl’s Perch, always had. And now, with healing running through most of the relationships she’d once left behind, the beauty of the place strengthened her. Zabeth would be so pleased for her, and that brought even more comfort.

In jeans and a sweater, Lissa played in the soft dirt near the edge of the garden. She seemed to love the feel and aroma of tilled soil as much as Hannah.

Sarah tapped on an upstairs window, signaling that she’d be down in a minute. She barely looked like the young adult who less than a month ago had poured gasoline around her and threatened to strike a match. She’d needed medication to help, but it seemed to Hannah that, more than meds, she’d needed to find forgiveness and have a sense of power over her life.

Without any doubt, Paul had done a great job of helping her find much of what she needed. His ability to help Sarah seemed more connected to who he was than to his degree. Hannah knew little of psychologists as a whole, but this one used his education as a tool for offering insights and wisdom for living.

Sarah still easily lapsed into talking like a baby and continued with some very odd behaviors, but she was making good progress.

She bounded out the back door, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper with an arrangement of fall leaves on the top for a bow. “Here.” She held the gift toward Hannah.

Tears welling in her eyes, Hannah accepted it. They’d come such a long way, and like a garden in spring, Sarah’s heart was being cultivated, making all they’d been through worthwhile. She removed the wrapping to find the “Past and Future” quilt. “Sarah, this was on loan to you. It can’t be given to me.”

Sarah pouted. “He gave it to me.” It was a few seconds before she seemed to regain her thoughts. “Besides, I asked Mary. So listen up and hush up.” She cleared her throat. “You saw to it that the quilt was made from patches of cloth from family and friends as well as every Amish household in our community. We are a part of your past, and we’ll always be a part of your future. I want you to have it so you’ll always remember who you are.”

In spite of the childlike voice her sister spoke with, it seemed to Hannah that she saw deeply. There were many days Hannah wasn’t at all sure who she was. Memories of her Amish childhood swirled like falling leaves. She slid her hand across the quilt. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it always.” She drew a sharp breath, trying not to cry.

“Mary gave this to Paul to keep him warm while he waited for you to return.” She picked imaginary lint off the quilt.

Wishing Sarah hadn’t reminded her about Paul waiting, Hannah simply nodded. It was frustrating and embarrassing that part of her wanted to know how long he’d waited. “I’m grateful you’re better, and it means a lot to know you’re doing well enough to want to give this to me.”

Sarah gazed at the sky, growing distracted. “Before we started having trouble getting along, we used to lie in bed each night and talk. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“You used to say the hardest thing in life was that no one understood you or helped you find yourself.”

Hannah cupped her sister’s cold cheek against her palm, causing Sarah to look at her. “Those were childish thoughts. Life is about doing what’s right and moving on.” But even as she said the words, she knew lives were shaped by kindred spirits and support … or the lack of them. How different would her life be if her father had understood her rather than tried to dictate who she was to become?

Sarah leaned her cheek into Hannah’s hand, looking more like a child than an eighteen-year-old. “Paul sees you, Hannah.”

The words hit so hard, Hannah fought against tears. It was true. She knew it was, but it didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. Surely even Sarah could understand that. Hannah tried to keep that truth from sinking in, but it burned through her, and her heart marched against her chest as if it wanted to get free and run to Paul on its own.

Martin tried to see her. The fact that he didn’t sometimes was not his fault. He tried, and that should be enough. No, it had to be enough. What was wrong with her? Was she so weak that her heart wanted the freedom to long for one man when she was committed to another?

She stood straighter. “I have a new family now, dear sister.” She pulled Sarah into a hug and held her. “Thank you for the quilt.” Hannah kept her in her arms, savoring their newfound victories. Finally she took a step back. “I need to go.”

After a few last hugs with Luke and Mary, Hannah and Lissa climbed into the car and headed for Ohio. Fastened into her car seat, Lissa used her CD player and earphones, snacked a little, and slept soundly throughout the trip, leaving Hannah to ponder fairly uninterrupted. Her mind took more twists and turns than the back roads. Soon enough they were on the turnpike, putting mile after mile between them and Owl’s Perch.

She rapped her palms against the steering wheel. It’d happened. She’d faced the worst of herself—the horrid, ugly truth—and found peace. Even faced things that couldn’t be covered in explanations of events or expressed in a multitude of words, yet Paul seemed to understand every nuance. But that bothered her for reasons she refused to think about.

Martin’s two-story stone home came into view, making the drive here feel about two minutes long even though she’d been in the car for hours and it was now past lunchtime.

“Lissa, honey, it’s time to wake up.”

She began stirring. Hannah reached across to the passenger’s seat and stroked the fabric of the “Past and Future” quilt, ready to begin life again, only this time with a serene connectedness to the missing parts of herself. Regrets, yes. They were inevitable, but there wasn’t one part of her that was running or hiding or afraid to look in the mirror concerning her past.

She studied the stately house. The immense windows, arched entryway, stacked-stone siding, and meticulous lawns were astoundingly different from the life she’d left behind hours ago.

If it hadn’t been for Martin’s willingness to barter with her, she wouldn’t own a car. But he had done more than help her carry the load of her new life. He became her friend. After parking and cutting off the engine, she got out and opened the door beside Lissa.

She raised her arms, waiting to be unbuckled. “What’re you smiling about?”

Hannah lifted the slight kindergartener from the seat, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and settled Lissa on her hip. She then headed for the back door. “I was thinking about your uncle Martin. I have so many things I want to tell him, things he’ll want to hear.” She closed the car door. “But first I’m sure we need to do damage control to the house. Then we’ll unpack, go by your school and pick up any work you’ve missed, spend at least an hour at the Tuesday quilting, and get groceries. Next we’ll cook a meal, and after dinner we’ll get your makeup work all squared away for school tomorrow.”

She opened the storm door and twisted the knob to the back door, but the door remained shut. Martin always left the door unlocked and then set the alarm. That way Hannah could get in easily and then turn the alarm off.

“I’ve got to go potty,” Lissa whispered.

“Okay, sweetie, just a minute.”

Keeping the storm door open with her backside, she set Lissa’s feet on the patio and began digging for her keys. After shoving the house key into the lock, she turned the key. The bolt clicked open. She turned the handle and pushed. The door didn’t open.

“Hannah.” Lissa sounded desperate. “I need to go.”

“Just one more second.” Hannah leaned her shoulder into the door. “I know it unlocked. Why isn’t it opening?”

“Now.” Lissa elongated the word while dancing around, holding her jeans.

Hannah released the storm door and held out her hand. “Let’s go to the cottage instead.”

While they hurried across the yard, she located the correct key on the ring. After unlocking the deadbolt, she tried turning the doorknob. Someone had flipped the handle lock, and she didn’t have a key to that. No one had a key to that. Exasperated, she kept her voice as cheerful as possible. “Lissa, honey, I think you’re going to have to use an outhouse like Mammi Annie has, minus the actual house.”

Lissa laughed. “I don’t think Uncle Martin will like that. He said me and Kevin weren’t allowed to do that no more.”

Their mother had trained them that when they were outside playing, they weren’t to bother her by coming inside to use a bathroom. It was one of many lazy sides to Faye’s child-rearing methods that, thankfully, Martin didn’t allow. “He’ll understand this one time.”

While Lissa hid behind the bushes, Hannah called Martin. He didn’t answer his cell phone, so she called his private line at his office. He didn’t answer there either. It made no sense for the doors to be locked. She sat on the steps of her cottage, and Lissa soon joined her.

“Hannah?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m hungry.”

Suppressing a sigh, Hannah smiled. “Well then, we’ll just change plans. How about if we go by the grocery store and get some yogurt and fruit for lunch and then go to your school and get your makeup work? Surely by then we can reach your uncle.”

“Can I have an ice cream on a stick?”

“We’ll see.”

They were halfway out of the subdivision when Hannah’s cell phone rang.

“Hi.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry I missed your call. I was in the middle of something. So are you home yet?”

“I was, but I couldn’t get in.”

“Was it locked?”

“From the inside, like someone had latched the keyless deadbolt. And someone had twisted the little lock on the door handle to the cottage too, and we both know no one has a key to that.”

The phone line was quiet. “Oh.” His voice sounded stilted, and the line went silent again. “It’s just a mix-up and no big deal.”

“Okay. Did I tax your patience by staying an extra night, and now you’ve locked me out, or what?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Martin.” She crooned his name. “You’re acting odd, which is outside of your usual aim to be charming, so what gives?”

“I renegotiated with Laura, and she now works full-time as a nanny and housekeeper. She moved in over the weekend and has a thing about keeping the place locked up.” He blurted out the info quickly.

“Oh.” She wanted to say more, but the words didn’t form. Agreeing to hire Laura part-time had been a concession on her part, not a step plan. He’d been right that they needed her. Hannah would readily admit she’d been wrong to avoid getting help, but to move into having full-time, live-in help and not even talk to her about it?

Phones were ringing in the background at Martin’s office, and she could hear him being paged. “She’s not there?” he asked.

“Her car isn’t. I didn’t knock or anything.”

“Did you try the front door? She couldn’t have used the keyless deadbolt on the front and back doors unless she’s inside the house.”

Trying to process this from his viewpoint, she still couldn’t dispel the disappointment. “No, I didn’t think about trying the front door. It didn’t occur to me that someone would be in the house.” She steered the car to the curb so she wasn’t trying to talk on the phone while shifting gears.

“You’re upset?”

“I … I’m not sure. If you feel we need her … but to not even talk to me …”

“But you agreed to her being there part-time, and we’ve both come to like and trust her, so I figured what possible harm could be done? Something came up, and I needed to go in to work on Saturday. When I called to see if she could come over, she’d been out trying to find a more affordable apartment than the one she was living in. Since we have the guest-room suite off of the kitchen … I went for it and asked her spur of the moment. I should’ve told you.”

“Yep.” Despite feeling hurt, she kept her tone light and easy. They needed to talk about this, but he meant no harm, and it was his house, his niece and nephew, and his girl who was juggling the typical life of a twenty-year-old—college, work, and family. Still, something about this nagged at her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“So you’re not going to be angry?”

“Depends. Is that a request or a demand?” she teased. “Just so you know, the answer is request. And because of this, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” He sounded more like himself again. “Every time I try to give you anything, you balk, so what could I possibly owe you?”

“Um, I’m off tonight, and there’s some peace and quiet for all four of us at a little place up a winding, dirt driveway. Has a wood stove …”

He moaned his disapproval. “I’m going to put that place up for sale if you keep this up.”

“Watch it, Palmer. I know where you live … although I can’t manage to get in, even with a key.”

He chuckled. “Let’s not all go tonight, okay? Laura can do everything for Kevin and Lissa—meals, homework, and getting them into bed. That frees us to go somewhere really nice and quiet.”