A Place of Peace (6 page)

“No, no.” Miriam touched her sister’s arm. “It’s a valid question. I’ll answer it.” She met her niece’s gaze. “I’ve been wrong not to come here, and I regret it now. The truth is I was planning to come and visit later this year and I was going to talk to your
grossmammi
about why I’d left. But now it’s too late, which only proves you shouldn’t take your family for granted like I did. Don’t ever let the years come between you and your parents, okay?”

Lena Joy’s expression softened as she nodded. “I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you too.” Miriam wiped her eyes and touched Lena Joy’s arm. Her niece gave her a sad smile.

“Kinner,
those are enough questions for now.” Hannah waved them off. “Please go finish your chores while your
aenti
and I talk in the kitchen.”

The children filed through the kitchen and out the back door.

Hannah led Miriam over to the kitchen table and pointed to a chair. “Please have a seat, and I’ll get us some water and cookies.”

“Danki.”
Miriam lowered herself into a chair and glanced around the plain kitchen. “Your home is still lovely. I always dreamed of having a house like this.”

Hannah chuckled while carrying a pitcher of water and two glasses to the table. “I’m sure what you have in Indiana is much fancier than this old place.”

“Not really. Abby and I share a tiny apartment, but it’s enough for just the two of us.”

Hannah placed a plate of butterscotch cookies on the table and sat in a seat across from Miriam. “For you.”

“Oh, my favorites!” Miriam snatched two cookies from the plate. “You remembered.” She bit into a cookie and moaned. “You still are the best cookie maker in the county.”

Hannah snickered. “You’re an easy audience.” She lifted a cookie to her mouth. “I guess you’re staying with
Aenti
Edna?”

Miriam nodded. “I went to
Daed’s,
and Gerald threw me off the porch.”

Hannah shook her head. “I don’t understand why they are still angry with you. It’s been four years. I bet
Aenti
is thrilled to have you and Abby.”

“She is. Her arthritis looks like it has progressed. Abby and I helped her make some pastries, and Beth Anne picked them up today for the bakery. I plan to help her again tomorrow.” Miriam chewed the cookie. “How’s Lena Joy? She looks so …”

“Jaundiced.” Hannah sighed. “I wish there was a cure for

Crigler Najjar Syndrome, but our only hope is a liver transplant. The bilirubin keeps building up in her body, and she doesn’t get as much time under her phototherapy lights as she did when she was younger. We could control the yellowish tinge in her skin better when she was younger and wouldn’t fight spending eight hours at a time under the lights.”

Miriam reached over and squeezed Hannah’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I pray for Lena Joy every night.”

“Danki.”
Hannah squeezed her hand in response. “Lena Joy came to me one night a few months ago and told me she was ready to have her liver transplant. We’d known since she was born that she would need one. It was just a matter of time. Lena Joy said she’s tired of sleeping uncovered under the lights, and she’s tired of people staring at her.”

Miriam wiped a tear from her eye. “She’s so brave.”

“Ya.” Hannah sniffed and cleared her throat. “She’s growing into a young woman, and she’s ready to live a normal life with her friends. She wants to go out and do social things without worrying about looking different. We took her to Pittsburgh to meet with the transplant doctors and to get her evaluated. She’s on the list, and we hope she’ll get a liver soon.” Hannah pulled out a cell phone. “We have this with us at all times. We never know when we’ll get the call that a liver is available for her.”

Miriam’s eyes widened. “The bishop allowed you a phone?”

“Of course. This is considered a medical emergency.” Hannah frowned. “I want my child well. I pray for it all the time, but I feel so guilty praying for a liver, since it will take someone losing their life to give Lena Joy another chance at hers.”

“Remember it’s not our place to question God’s will. It’s God’s choice when Lena Joy gets her liver.”

“Ya, that’s true.” Hannah wiped a tear from her cheek.

“What if I were tested to see if I could donate to her? Do people donate part of their livers?” Miriam asked.

Hannah squeezed Miriam’s hand. “You’re so generous. The doctor says the most successful transplants are from cadaveric livers, but
danki
for asking.”

Miriam shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do. I believe in organ donation.”

“You’re a
gut
person.” Hannah’s expression turned to concern. “How are you really?”

“I’m okay.” Miriam shrugged and lifted her glass of water.

“I’m not convinced.” Hannah’s eyes studied Miriam’s. Even at thirty, Hannah still had the same perfect, clear creamy skin and dark brown hair that she’d had in her early twenties. “How was it when you saw Beth Anne today?”

Miriam paused and took a drink while she considered the question. “It was awkward, but Beth Anne was still the same sweet person she was back when I was here and a part of the community.”

“Did she mention Timothy?”

Miriam shook her head. “I didn’t ask, but I wanted to.” She bit her lip, wanting to ask if he was married.

“Last I heard he was seeing a girl in his district.”

Miriam bit into a cookie to keep from showing too much emotion even though the news cut her like a knife.

“I don’t know if they’re going to get married or not.” Hannah broke a cookie in half. “Will you go see him while you’re here?”

“No,” Miriam said, a little too fast. “I – I wouldn’t even know what to say,” she stammered. “I have nothing to say. He was seeing someone behind my back. It’s obvious he never cared for me as much as I cared for him. It was a long time ago. It’s over. Besides, I made my choice when I left. I wanted to pursue my dream of becoming a pediatric nurse. I didn’t just leave because of him. I left because I wanted to see what being
English
was like.”

Hannah sipped her water. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out for you two. I really miss you, and now that
Mamm’s
gone …” Her voice trailed off.

Miriam sniffed. “I miss you too.”

“Then you should stay.” Hannah tapped the table for emphasis. “You could stay with me or you could even stay with
Aenti
for a while. She’d love to have company. I could get you a job working for my mother-in-law’s quilting business. I’m sure you remember how to—”

“No, no.” Miriam shook her head. “I don’t think that would work out.”

“Why not?” Hannah’s eyebrows knitted together with confusion.

“I don’t fit in here anymore.”

“Why would you think that? You’re family.”

“No, I’m not.” Miriam grabbed another handful of cookies from the serving plate. “I’m not Amish, and I’m not
English.
I’m stuck somewhere in between. Besides,
Daed
made it perfectly clear I’m not welcome in his home.”

Hannah glowered. “I’ll have a talk with him after we get through the funeral. He has no right to treat you that way. You didn’t join the church, so it’s not like you’re shunned. I’ll get him to realize he’s being an old fool, and he’ll welcome you home.” Her expression brightened. “Then you can join the church and meet a nice Amish man. Soon you’ll be married and having
kinner
of your own.”

Miriam sighed. Her sister made it sound so easy. “I’m not sure I want to stay.”

“Why not? What do you have waiting for you back in Indiana?”

“A new identity. In Indiana, I’m not judged by my past and what happened to Jeremy Henderson.” Her voice trembled.

Hannah shook her head. “Sister, I love you no matter what. I see the person you really are and how beautiful you are, inside and out. You’re the only one who clings to that past.”

Miriam felt a lump swell in her throat at her sister’s loving words. “Thank you.”

T
imothy dried his dinner plate and placed it in the cupboard.

He then headed through the kitchen into his den, where he flopped into his favorite easy chair and lifted his Bible from the end table. This was his favorite part of the day—when he could let go of his burdens and enjoy some quiet time with God. He flipped open the cover and found his way to Romans.

He was just settling in to his devotions when he heard a knock on the front door. He popped up, crossed the small room, and wrenched the door open. He found his middle sister standing on the front porch holding a pie plate.

“Beth Anne?” He leaned on the door frame and eyed her mischievous smile with suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

She feigned insult with a dramatic frown. “Is that how you greet a person who brings you your favorite dessert?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You brought me crumbly peach pie?”

“Ya.”
She stepped toward the door. “Are you going to invite me in, or are we going to discuss crumbly peach pie on the porch all evening?”

“Of course.” Stepping back, he opened the door wide and gestured for her to enter. “I’ll make some coffee.” He led her through the den to his small kitchen.

“Danki.”
Beth Anne rifled through the cabinets and retrieved plates and utensils while Timothy grabbed the percolator to make coffee. He added water to it and set it on the stove, turning on the burner.

Beth Anne sat at the table and sliced the crumbly peach pie. “How was your day?”

“Gut.
Yours?” He leaned against the counter while the coffee dripped, the rich aroma permeating the room.

She licked her fingers.
“Gut.
I went to visit the Lapps.”

“How are they coping?”

She grimaced. “They’re taking it hard. It wasn’t expected. Bertha had been improving, but the pneumonia took a sudden turn for the worse.”

He shook his head. “We’re not to question God’s will, but sometimes it isn’t easy.”

“Ya,
that’s so true.” Beth Anne pursed her lips, and her expression clouded as if she were choosing her words carefully.

He eyed her again with suspicion. It wasn’t like her to just drop by without a specific reason.

The coffee pot gurgled, announcing that it was finished brewing, and Timothy poured two cups. He then brought the cups, sugar, and creamer to the table and lowered himself into a chair across from Beth Anne.

“Why are you really here?” he asked.

She flinched at the direct question, and he stifled a laugh. He relished catching her off guard.

“Can’t I visit my favorite brother?” Her phony innocent smile was back.

Shaking his head, he added cream and sugar to his coffee and then passed them to her. “You’re incorrigible.” He forked the crumbly peach pie into his mouth and groaned with delight. It was sweet, moist, and smooth.

Almost as good as the ones Miriam used to make for me.

He pushed the thought away.

“Wow,” he muttered while taking another bite. “You almost have me convinced that you just were being nice by bringing me this crumbly peach pie. It’s heavenly.”

“Glad you like it.” She sipped her coffee, set the mug down, and folded her hands on the table. “I stopped by to see Edna Lapp after I visited Abraham and his
kinner
.”

Nodding, Timothy took another gulp of coffee before forking in more pie.

“Edna had a couple of visitors staying with her.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Abby Lapp.” She paused, her expression becoming serious. “And Miriam.”

Timothy dropped his fork, which fell to the floor with a loud clatter. His eyes locked on his sister’s, and he glowered. “I knew you had an ulterior motive by coming here. You came to tell me you saw Miriam. I’m
froh
you saw her, but I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”

Beth Anne’s eyes remained focused on his, challenging him. “I think it has everything to do with you.”

“How could that be?” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “She made her choice and left. End of story.”

“No, it’s not the end of the story.” Beth Anne leaned forward, slicing her fork through the air like a sword and showering the table with crumbs. “If it were, then you’d be married by now.”

His eyes widened with shock. “What did you say? You think my not being married is due to Miriam’s leaving?” He laughed with bitterness. “Beth Anne, you don’t know me at all.”

“Don’t I?” She dropped her fork on the table and folded her hands. “I know you haven’t made a commitment to Naomi or any other woman because you’re not over Miriam.”

“Naomi and I are just friends, but that’s none of your business. Besides, we’ve only just started to get to know each other. It takes longer than a month to decide if you want to marry someone. You and Paul dated for longer than a month.”

Not backing down, her stare was steady. “It’s time you moved on, Timothy. You’re not getting any younger.”

He jammed a finger in his chest. “It’s my business if I choose to stay single. You need to be concerned about your marriage and your
kinner.
I can handle my own life, and it’s none of your concern.”

“Ya, it is my concern. You’re my brother, and I care about you. I want to see you
froh.
You need a
fraa
and a family. It’s part of who you are.”

He glowered. “I choose to be alone. I appreciate your concern, but I’m happy.”

“Are you?” Sitting up straight, she looked unconvinced. “Then why are you stringing poor Naomi King along?”

He shook his head. How dare she criticize his relationship! “Naomi and I are good friends. I’m not stringing her along as you say. I resent that accusation.”

Beth Anne shook her head. “Naomi is in love with you. She’s just waiting for you to propose to her.”

“She is not. You don’t know her.” He knew Beth Anne was right, but he didn’t want to hear it.
How is it that Beth Anne can read people just like Mamm does?

“I can tell. It’s obvious by the way she looks at you. You have her wrapped around your finger, but you refuse to acknowledge the love she wants to give you.” Beth Anne shook her head and sighed. “I’m not here to accuse you or upset you. I want you to have closure with Miriam. That’s why I think you need to talk to her and—”