The Amish Nanny (19 page)

“I'm not worried about being away. I'll have my
grossmammi
,” she said.

And me
, I wanted to add but didn't. Christy stood and I followed her toward the house.

“What are you looking forward to the most?”

She shrugged.

“Have you ever been on a train?”

She hadn't. We stopped and sat on the steps to the porch, the heavy book balanced on her knees. Sitting there, I told her about my first train ride—my trip to Oregon—and what it was like. “And then, just think, we'll go on a ship. I'm really excited about that.” I was aware I sounded as if I were speaking to a little kid. Suddenly I couldn't remember what it was like to be eleven.

“Are you worried about anything?” I ventured.

“
Grossmammi
said we'll be walking a lot. I'm a little worried about that.”

“Because of your health?”

“No,” Christy responded. “I take a pill every day for that. I just don't like to walk.”

I took a deep breath to keep from laughing.

A buggy approached, and I lost Christy's attention. I followed her from the steps to the driveway, expecting to see Hannah or her husband, Jonas.

It was Will, his sorrel prancing along, and beside him on the bench of the spring wagon sat Leah Fisher. Her horse was tied to the surrey hook in the back.

“A wheel fell off my buggy,” she explained as Will stopped his horse, and she climbed down. “Will came to my rescue.”

Will nodded his head toward me. “Leah's going to call and see if she can reach one of her brothers or her father.”

I stood and offered her my cell phone. She took it and said, “I just gave mine up. I'm joining the church, you know.”

I didn't tell her I'd heard that. She must have dialed one of her brothers because someone picked up right away. From the one side of the conversation it seemed he would be on his way to collect her soon. She hung up, handed me the phone, and thanked me.

“Come on in to the house,” Will said to all of us. “We'll have a snack.”

I hesitated, sure Christy didn't want to spend any more time with me and knowing I didn't want to watch Leah spending time with Will. Leah was already leading Christy inside, so I decided I should check in with Alice and then go.

She was in the kitchen slicing apples, and Leah was settling onto a bench at the table, the twins clamoring to sit on either side of her. I wondered how much time she was spending at the house that made the little girls so taken with her.

“Hi, Ada,” Mel said, and Matty nodded her head in agreement.

Christy handed her grandmother the book, and Alice set it on the desk near the counter. I told her my passport had arrived but that Zed still hadn't heard from Giselle. The carved box from Lexie hadn't arrived either, but I didn't mention that. We discussed a few last-minute things about the trip, and then I decided to head for home. It was becoming clear that Leah was right. It was going to be difficult to get to know Christy. I'd never known a child who was so distant.

As I drove the buggy, I thought about how comfortable Leah looked with Mel and Matty on either side of her, but Christy puzzled me. I knew how special it was to have one's teacher stop by. I'd had that happen many times during my growing-up years. But Christy didn't seem impressed. She was definitely hard to figure out. Then again, maybe she could see through Leah the way I did. Maybe Christy was a lot smarter than the average eleven-year-old.

When I turned down the lane to our house, I saw Aunt Marta's car parked near the pine trees.
Daed
met me as the lane curved toward the barn, and he said he would unhitch Rikki for me because Marta and her children were waiting in the house to tell me goodbye. When I walked in, Ella hurried toward me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

“I wish I were going with you,” she chirped.

I wished she were too. For all her faults, she had been a fun and lively traveling companion, and during our trip west we had established certain rhythms and routines that had made our journey run much more smoothly. I hoped Alice and Christy and I could do the same.

Aunt Marta stepped toward me and gave me a hug too. Zed just smiled and waved as he flicked his bangs from his forehead. “I have an email for you,” he said. “Giselle finally wrote back.”

I snatched the message out of his hand.

Sorry I took so long to respond. I've been busy. Not sure of my schedule during the time you're in Switzerland, but call when you arrive and I'll let you know if I'll be around.

She left a number, her cell I assumed, and that was all. I felt sick to my stomach as I folded the paper. Zed and Ella both looked at me with sympathy.

“May I read it?”
Mamm
asked.

I handed the piece of paper to her and watched her as she read it, her expression growing smug. No doubt she was feeling vindicated that her sister obviously would have preferred not to hear from me at all. Once she was finished, though, the smugness faded, and when she looked at me, she did so with compassion in her eyes.

“It's better than nothing,” she offered, handing the note back to me. Considering the circumstances, all I could do was agree.

“Your package came today,”
Daed
said, nodding toward the table.

I rose and quickly opened it. Lexie's box was inside. I ran my fingers over the carving of Amielbach—the turrets and balconies and surrounding trees, and then over to the waterfall. I'd begun to think Lexie had forgotten to send it. I knew she'd been busy with work and being newly married, and I was grateful she took the time to get it in the mail. It comforted me to bring my sister's box with me, and I decided I'd fill it with Christy's schoolwork to justify the room it would take up in my suitcase.

After I'd said goodbye to Marta, Ella, and Zed and they had left,
Mamm
put an arm around me. “I'm sorry about Giselle.”

I leaned against her shoulder. “See? You were worried about nothing.”

“
Ya
,” she answered. “It looks that way.” She sighed. “Giselle was so warm and caring when we were little. Then she made some bad decisions and became self-centered, thinking only about her own wants and not caring how her actions affected all of us. But I realized just now that I have no idea anymore who my sister is. Is she warm and caring again? Or did she stay selfish and self-centered? I actually do hope you'll be able to find out.”

I shivered as my mother pulled away. This wasn't like going to Oregon. It wasn't like taking the train across the country, knowing Lexie would meet me at the station and Sophie would take me back. No. This was a journey of uncertainty.

I was traveling to Switzerland as the nanny of a child who didn't even like me, looking to straighten out a property matter that was more than a hundred and thirty years old, and hoping to see a birth mother who didn't want to meet me.

For a moment, I questioned whether going was something I was meant to do at all.

W
e said our goodbyes the next day beside the van Will had rented to take us to the train station. The sun was high over the cornstalks, but the weather had turned cool during the night and the first hint of fall was in the air.
Mamm
stood with a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her face was pale, but it seemed she was doing her best.

“Just come back to us,
ya
?” she whispered when she hugged me one last time.

“
Ya
, of course,” I said in return. Of course.

She pulled away from me and reached into her apron pocket. “I put together a list of emergency phone numbers for you—Dr. Morton, Bishop Fisher, the Gundys, Marta, a few others…” she said, handing me a piece of paper. “Just in case.”

“But I told you, I'm not taking my cell phone—”

“I know, Ada, but you never know what might come up. Better safe than sorry.”

“You're right. Thank you.” I slipped her list into the inside pocket of my purse, feeling appreciative of the gesture and smothered by it all at the same time.

Daed
hugged me next, but he kept silent, probably to keep the tears in his eyes from spilling onto his cheeks. Alice had stepped from the van to hug
Mammi
, and the two friends clung to each other for a long moment. Then Alice let go and climbed back into the vehicle, returning to her place on the front bench seat next to Will.

I hugged my grandmother tightly, thanking her for making the trip possible. She squeezed me in return, saying, “Tell Giselle I love her. Tell her God loves her.”

Unsure if I would get the chance to meet Giselle at all, I merely nodded and asked
Mammi
to keep us in prayer. I hadn't had the heart to show her Giselle's email. Instead, I'd simply said that she'd sent her phone number with instructions to call once we arrived.

I sat in the backseat of the van, next to Christy, and as we pulled out, I turned around to look through the rear window. My parents and grandmother were standing in a huddle in the driveway, watching me leave—once again. Far behind them towered the windmill, its blades slowly rotating in the breeze.

The last time I'd been driven to the Lancaster train station, it had been to set off on an exciting adventure with my cousins, one that would culminate in the sharing of my sister's special day. This trip, however, was far more complex than that, and my stomach was gripped with equal amounts of excitement and fear. All I could do was pray for peace and wisdom—and I hoped they would come soon. Right now my emotions were like our windmill during a storm, spinning wildly out of control.

At the station our driver stayed with the van while Will helped carry our bags to the check-in area. He planned to wait with us until our train was called, which was a good thing, given how sullen and withdrawn Christy had begun acting on the way. We settled in a row of chairs, with the little girl between Will and Alice, and me on Will's other side. Will and Christy talked for a while, but when she grew silent, eyes closed as she rested against Alice, he turned to me and spoke softly.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For?”

“Going along. Helping Alice. Taking care of Christy. I'm afraid it's caused some division in your family. We never intended that.”

I inhaled deeply. He must have heard about my mother's fears. Perhaps Ella had told Ezra, who told Will. Or maybe
Mammi
had said something to Alice directly. I shook my head, wishing I could explain how hard
Mamm
was trying, how much I needed to do this, how desperately thrilled I was at the very thought of meeting my birth mother in person. But none of that seemed quite appropriate.

“It's not too bad,” I murmured as I gave him a reassuring smile.

He shifted his leg, accidentally pressing his thigh against mine. Quickly, he sat up straighter and pulled it away. We remained silent for a couple of minutes, and then he spoke again. “I'll be praying about you seeing Giselle. I hope it will work out and that it will be a good thing.”

I thanked him even as I felt my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I wondered how much he knew about Giselle, about the fact that I had been conceived out of wedlock, the product of an adulterous relationship she'd had with an older man, one who had left his wife and child to run away and play house for a while with her. Since learning the facts of my life, I had struggled some with the shame of it all, but never more so than now, sitting next to this upstanding man from a perfect family, where the worst thing anyone had ever done was maybe fall asleep during church or tell a little white lie. He must think of me as damaged goods, with an ugly background to go with my very average face.

“I'll also be praying for safety for all of you,” he said. Then he smiled, his brown eyes lighting up, and I felt that jolt I often got when I was with him. “I have to admit, I sure wish I were going too.”

Before I could think of how to respond, he added, “Make certain Christy gets plenty of rest, will you?”

I nodded, telling him not to worry and that enough sleep was a requirement for me to keep up my health as well. I didn't know if Will was finished with instructions or not, but that was all he had a chance to tell me because it was time for our train. As the other passengers began moving toward the boarding area outside, we stood and gathered our things.