Thankful (8 page)

Life had moved on, and one by one, they'd all gone off to college. At least once a month she would wonder why she hadn't moved. But then she would think of the children. Naturally, they'd clung to that house and the memories that had been made there. Whenever they all returned home on college breaks or the occasional weekend, they'd been excited for everything to be how it used to be. For a few days, the big house would be filled with happy noises, piles of laundry, and sporting equipment and a hundred other things that her kids had procured.

Sometimes, it had been like old times. Well, almost.

Of course, what the kids had neglected to realize was that when they left, the old house went back to being too big and too much to take care of. Instead of feeling like her escape from the world, the house became a place to clean and fix and rattle around in.

And a place to hold on to memories. Which were lovely, but also painful. It was hard to look at Harrison's empty side of the closet without remembering all his suits hanging there. Or his favorite spot in their living room—the old chair that had been always surrounded with newspapers and magazines.

So, after much deliberation, she'd put it up for sale. As she'd expected, the change hadn't gone over real well with the kids. It didn't seem to matter that they no longer lived there. . . . They wanted things from their past to stay the same. It took quite a lot of convincing and no small amount of tears to remind the children that nothing stayed the same for very long.

Within two months, her home sold. In exchange, she'd bought a small little bungalow in the old section of Sugarcreek. The kids took some of the extra furniture, she sold the rest, and finally, on a rainy day in May, she moved into her new home.

There, living in the two-bedroom home with its tiny garden patio and antique bathroom with the claw-footed bathtub, she'd felt like she'd finally made a change in her life.

Now, sitting alone in her office, she knew it was time for another change.

Her recent evening at Pippa's had much to do with her decision . . . as well as the visit before with the accountant. The Sugarcreek Inn had become a money pit. If she wasn't careful, she was going to put her retirement in jeopardy—all in an effort to keep a restaurant she was tired of devoting so much of her time to to keep afloat.

“You need a partner,” Pippa had said.

To her surprise, Jana didn't reject the idea immediately. Having someone to share both the financial burdens and the grueling schedule with would be a blessing indeed. “How do you think that would work?”

“All you have to do is find someone who wants to get into the restaurant business but wants to get in slowly. Then, little by little, this new partner can work more and more while you work less and less.”

It sounded very intriguing. But she'd lived long enough to know such things didn't happen so easily. “And how do you think that would happen?” she'd asked, her voice a bit sarcastic. “We'd have to actually find someone who wanted to be a part owner in an Amish restaurant in Sugarcreek. I don't want to sound completely negative, but Sugarcreek isn't exactly a bustling metropolis.”

“It only takes one person to want to go into business with you, Jana.”

“That is true. But even finding one person might be—”

Pippa interrupted. “Jana, I'm talking about me.”

“You?”

To Jana's chagrin, Pippa looked hurt. “Why not me?”

Jana knew she should tread carefully. Pippa was young—well younger. And therefore she, no doubt, had a lot of dreams that shouldn't be squashed.

But the girl probably had no idea of the amount of money and time that was involved. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, she decided to go slowly. “Well, for starters, I didn't think you especially liked Amish food.”

“I like it. I was in the restaurant this week, remember? I got a vegetable plate.”

“And . . . I don't want to sound rude, but I have a feeling that the amount to buy into a partnership would be a lot of money.” Jana felt terrible. She didn't want to state the obvious, but well, Pippa was working at the Walmart and she lived in a small one-bedroom apartment. . . .

Pippa raised her chin. “I have money in savings, Jana. A lot of money. Just because I haven't spent it doesn't mean it's not there.” As Jana processed that, Pippa continued, her voice turning excited. “And I like working at Walmart. I was working there until I figured out what I wanted to do.”

Pippa took a deep breath and glared at Jana. “It wasn't because I couldn't get a job anyplace else.”

Now she felt even worse. “Of course. I'm sorry—”

“I happen to think I would be a good fit. We enjoy being together, and I don't mind working. I'm also a quick learner. And I get along with people, too.”

“Yes,” she murmured helplessly. It was becoming obvious that Pippa had done a lot of thinking about this.

“Just think about it, will you? I have a feeling some of your patrons might enjoy a plate of enchiladas with their chicken every once in a while.”

Jana had been horrified. She did not intend to ever serve Mexican food alongside Amish pies and traditional fare. But she was unwilling to hurt her friend's feelings any more so she held her tongue.

But now, here she was, thinking about freedom and the future. And, to her surprise, she was even wondering if her customers might like the chance to eat Mexican food every once in a while at the Sugarcreek Inn.

Maybe they would!

And furthermore, maybe it wasn't even her decision. What would be so wrong about offering the choice? If customers didn't care for the Mexican choices they would let Pippa know.

So . . . now what?

The possibilities of what to do next felt endless. She could seriously consider Pippa's suggestion or let other folks in the business community know she was looking for a partner.

Or she could keep things exactly the same.

Feeling a bit confused and even more despondent, she picked up the phone and called Melissa, her youngest daughter.

She picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Mom. What's up?” she asked in that easy, breezy way of hers.

“Nothing much. I was just thinking about you. How are things in the city?”

“Cleveland's about like it always is,” she said with a laugh. “The hotel has been really busy. We had a corporate dinner and a wedding yesterday. Every room has been booked for the last week.”

Melissa worked for one of the big, fancy hotel chains in downtown Cleveland. She had some kind of job title that was just as fancy, too. Something to do with special events. Jana was so proud of her. Melissa had once been her little list maker. Now she was putting all her organizational gifts to good use.

“My goodness. I can't wait to hear all about it.”

“I have some good stories, too. I'll tell them to you when we see each other next.”

Jana grinned. Here was the opening she'd been looking for! “That's the exact reason I called, Mel. I was thinking that maybe you could come home soon. It's been too long since I've seen you.”

“You're right. It has been a long time. Weeks.”

“I haven't seen you since Christmas Day,” Jana reminded her. “Want to come out this weekend? You know how the cold never bothered us. We can go for a nice long walk like we used to.”

After a pause, Melissa's voice turned concerned. “What's wrong, Mom?”

“Not a thing.”

“Are you sure?”

Jana felt embarrassed now. Was she so transparent, so needy, that Melissa could tell something was wrong in just a few minutes? “I didn't think I needed a reason to invite you to come home.”

“Of course not. I'm sorry, Mom.”

Of course not
, followed by a quick apology. Jana realized with a bit of surprise that she had said almost the same words to Pippa when she was backpedaling. “So, do you think you could come down soon?”

“Gee, I don't know, Mom. Things are pretty busy right now. Every weekend is booked with either weddings or celebrities coming in for the Rock and Roll Museum.”

“You don't have anyone to help you?”

“I do, but these events are my responsibility. I can't put them on someone else. This is my job, Mom.”

Jana noticed that Melissa didn't ask her to come visit her instead. It was hard, but she pushed her disappointment to one side. “I understand.”

Another long pause. “Mom, do you want me to call Jane to see if she has some free time?”

Jane. The child who liked to think she could take care of everything, anytime, anyplace. “I can call Jane myself.”

“All right.” After an awkward pause, Melissa said, “Um, listen, my email is going crazy. I have to get some things done before my ten o'clock appointment.”

Swallowing her disappointment, Jana let Melissa go. “Sure, honey. I'll call you again very soon.”

“Okay. Great. Thanks, Mom. Love you!”

Melissa clicked off before Jana could tell her the same thing. Feeling a bit at loose ends, she stood up and stretched her arms. It was time to get back to work.

But it was also past time to make a change. She needed to call Pippa and accept her offer.

The sooner the better.

chapter seven

Judith's palms were damp. Hastily—and for about the tenth time in the last hour—she wiped them on the skirt of her raspberry-colored dress. “Ben, would you think me awful if I told ya I was scared to death?”

“I'd feel relieved. I kind of feel like I'm about to throw up.”

“You feel that good?” she teased.

He grinned. “I guess that sounded pretty bad. It's just my stomach is a bundle of nerves. And I kind of feel like I'm in a daze, too. Almost like I'm in a dream and I'm about to wake up.”

“That's how I feel. I'm scared and nervous and impatient and excited.”

“I can't believe we're standing here on the porch waiting for Bernie and James to arrive.” Fingering the blue wool shawl she'd thrown over her shoulders, he looked at her with concern. “Are you sure you're not too cold? It is January, you know.”

“I'm not cold at all. The sun is out. It's a beautiful day, especially for January. Besides, there was no way I could stay inside. I was practically wearing a hole on the rag rug in the front room!”

“I'm glad we're standing out here, too. I can't seem to do anything but look out onto the street, and I sure didn't want to stand inside with my nose pressed to the window.”

Once again Judith couldn't believe how lucky she was to have Ben for her husband. He'd been nothing but supportive during the past year. He'd celebrated with her when she'd discovered she was pregnant and had held her for hours and hours after she'd had the miscarriage. He'd vowed it didn't matter to him after they discovered she couldn't get pregnant again. It had been his idea to fill out the paperwork for adoption. And now he was as eager to be a foster parent as she was.

“Ben, have I told you that I love you today?”

To her pleasure, he rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Only today?”

“Oh, I love you every day. But I love you
especially
today.”

As she'd hoped, he grinned. “And what made you say that, dear wife?”

“Because I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else,” she said lightly.

“I agree. I don't think I could get through this with anyone else. You are a wonderful
frau
, Judith. And once more, you're going to be a wonderful mother.”

“I hope so.”

“I know you will be.” He took a breath, obviously about to say something else, but then his expression froze.

Feeling frozen herself, she turned her head and looked in the same direction. And saw that their big moment had indeed come. Bernie and James had arrived.

The social worker barely had time to park her sedan before Judith scampered down the three steps to meet them. Ben followed, but at a much slower—and more hesitant—pace.

The moment the social worker opened her door, Judith felt her eyes swim with tears. “Hi, Bernie.”

“Good morning, you two. Are you ready for your big day?”

“As ready as we'll ever be,” Ben said with a grin.

Bernie's blond hair was in a ponytail today and her ever-present reading glasses were perched on the top of her head. “You two look like you're ready for Christmas Day,” she teased.

“I feel like it is Christmas,” Judith remarked as she watched Bernie open the door and reach inside, unbuckle a small bundle from the car seat, and at last bring out a tiny baby. Baby James.

Holding the quiet baby, who was wrapped in a soft-looking plaid flannel blanket, close to her chest, Bernie straightened and met Judith's gaze. “Judith, this is James,” she said with a soft smile.

Heart pounding, Judith reached out to the newborn. Carefully cradling his head like her sister-in-law had reminded her to do, she felt tears prick her eyes. He was so light! So small! Closing her eyes, she cuddled him close, taking in his scent.

“Oh, James,” she murmured. “I'm so
verra
glad you are here.” Looking down at his face, she smiled softly. Then froze.

The baby had brown skin.

“The baby is African American,” she exclaimed in surprise.

Bernie's eyebrows rose. “Ah, yes. Yes, he is.” Then, as if she heard something she hadn't expected in Judith's tone, she stepped closer. Almost as if she was ready to take back James. “I thought I'd mentioned it, but to tell you the truth, I didn't think it mattered.”

All Judith could think was that now no one would ever look at her and James and think that the baby was hers. “You didn't tell me that he wouldn't be white.”

“Again, I didn't think it mattered.” Looking from Judith to Ben, Bernie's voice turned even more protective. “Is this a problem?”