Missing Your Smile (26 page)

He untied Freddy and climbed into the buggy. He didn't turn on his buggy lights until he reached the main road.

S
usan held the gray polka dot dress up to the light.
Yah
, she would wear the dress today. Her first time to actually wear an
Englisha
dress, and there would be
no
guilt feelings allowed. Was not
Da Hah
smiling on her, letting her know the guilt had been foolishness all along…those thoughts of
Englisha
this, and
Englisha
that?
Mamm
and
Daett
were wise people, but perhaps they weren't right about everything. And Thomas, well, he was obviously wrong about a lot of things.

Tonight she would go on her date with Mr. Moran at the Italian Restaurant on Asbury Avenue.
What does an Italian restaurant look like?
she wondered.
Fancy, no doubt, and I, Susan Hostetler, am going to eat there! Who would have thought such a thing possible only a short time ago? Certainly not Thomas. But what does he know? He was swept off his feet by Eunice
.

Susan glanced at the study booklets on the kitchen table. She had begun her studies last night after the bakery had closed. So far so good. She could do this. She turned off the apartment light and made her way down the creaky stairs. Outside, she locked the apartment door behind her, ducking under the awning over the bakery door. The lights were already on, so Laura had to have risen even earlier than the Amish did, considering her thirty-minute commute into town.

“Good morning,” Susan said as she entered and closed the door behind her.

“Good morning!” Laura turned around to look at her, raising her eyebrows at the sight of Susan in her new dress. “My, aren't we looking sharp this morning! Turn this way—under the light. Yes, you did make a good choice. It's a nice fit for your figure.”

“Don't say that.” Susan laughed. “Dresses aren't supposed to show your figure.”

“Within limits, I'd agree,” Laura said. “But you're not Amish anymore.”

“I hope it's not sinful,” Susan said.
There are those awful guilt feelings trying to make me miserable again
.

“I wouldn't worry about it, dear,” Laura said. “If it's out of line, I'll be the first to tell you. I'd say you have a long way to go before that time. Your dress is very beautiful. Now cover it with a big, long apron so it stays clean.”

“Thanks.” Susan took a deep breath. Laura liked her dress!

The two women worked side by side, baking rolls and cookies and serving the first customers long before the streetlights blinked off outside. In the break after the first rush, Laura grabbed a cup of coffee and motioned for Susan to do the same. “Take a quick breather,” Laura said, “before someone else comes in.”

Susan filled a small cup, keeping her eye on the front door. Someone always had a way of showing up when they tried to take a break. They would then place an order and nestle down for a long stay at the tables. She didn't feel comfortable sitting again until the customer had gone, and her coffee was usually cold by then. Laura could sit when customers were inside, chatting away—but then she owned the bakery.

Susan added cream and a dash of sugar. Not too much, just enough to take the bite off the taste of the coffee. Too much sugar, her
daett
often said, and you couldn't taste the coffee. “Why drink it then?” he would ask and smile at the power of his own logic.
It's funny that this morning thoughts of
Daett
are coming
, she thought. But they were here, and she allowed them to come.
Would
Daett
approve of the new dress? Not likely
.

But she would never wear it around him. Her Amish dresses would stay stashed upstairs in the apartment closet. The dresses would be there for when she visited home. There would be no sense in causing her
mamm
and
daett
undue sorrow if she did return.

The door opened behind her. Likely a couple of older ladies who would dawdle for an hour while ice crystals gathered on her coffee. Forcing a smile she turned to greet whoever it was, catching the eye of the same young woman who had been in twice before. Today she was wrapped in a thick coat that failed to hide her advancing pregnancy.

“Good morning,” Susan said, setting her coffee out of sight behind some canisters. “What can I get for you?”

For some reason, the girl seemed frightened…confused. She said nothing.

Susan remembered that before the girl had taken only a small cup of coffee, staying to chat only briefly before leaving.

“Do you want the usual?” Susan smiled. “A small cup of coffee, right?”

The girl was trembling, but managed to say, “I can't buy coffee this morning, but I need to speak with you. Right bad, ma'am.”

“You want to speak with
me
?” Susan asked.
What could this pregnant girl possibly want with me?
she wondered.

“How can I help you?” Laura asked, getting up. “Susan only works here, but if there is a problem with our service, you can speak with me.”

The girl glanced between the two women. She looked ready to run. One hand was draped over her swollen stomach, the other grasped the edge of the counter.

Susan gasped as one of coffee canisters teetered. She jumped forward, grabbing it before it crashed to the ground.

“Are you hungry?” Laura asked. “If you don't have any money, I'll give you rolls and coffee. Would you like that?”

The girl ignored Laura, her eyes focused on Susan's face.

“Please ma'am,” she said, speaking to Susan. “I beg of you. Will you help me? I have no one else I can turn to. You have been so nice to me the other times I was in here.”

“Come, darling.” Laura took the girl's hand, trying to lead her toward a table. “What's your name, dear?”

“I don't want to give my name. I want that lady's help.” The girl was clinging to the counter.

“No one can help you if we don't have your name,” Laura said, trying again.

The girl stayed by the counter.

“I have to have help!” she moaned. “I love the child too much.”

Susan moved closer.
Perhaps I can help the girl—but how?
“I'll talk to her,” Susan said to Laura. She took the young woman's hand just as the door opened behind them.

“I'll take care of the customer then,” Laura whispered. “Take her to a table.”

The girl went willingly, walking ahead of Susan but keeping a grip on her hand. Waiting while the girl took her coat off, Susan draped it over a chair. She placed her hand on the girl's shoulder while she slid into a chair.

Taking a seat across the table, Susan offered the girl a smile.

The young woman's troubled gaze went around the room, but she was breathing easier now.

“So, what is your name?” Susan asked. “I'm sure it's pretty.”

The girl laughed for the first time, but the sound was harsh.

“There's not much left of it, ma'am, pretty or not,” the girl said.

Susan waited and then touched the woman's arm. “Is it the baby? Are you still having trouble with the baby?”

The girl leaned in closer, ignoring the question, a slight smile on her face. “It's Teresa Long, ma'am.”

“Teresa,” Susan repeated. “That's such a nice name.”

“As you can see, I'm with child,” Teresa said.

“Your husband, does he know you are here?” Susan asked.

Teresa looked up and grabbed Susan's arm with both hands.

“I have no husband. But I know you can help me because you're Amish, aren't you? You said so when I was here before.”

Susan nodded. “
Yah
, I am. But what can I do for you?”

“I know how holy the Amish people are,” Teresa said slowly. “So please don't throw me out until you hear what I have to say.”

“We won't throw you out, Teresa. Do you need help with the birth?” Susan asked, stroking the woman's hands that clutched her arm. “I'm not a midwife, but perhaps Laura knows someone who can help… with the cost and all. I could give some—a little money, but not much.”

Her bank account was almost empty, depleted by last night's purchases. Susan started to get up. Her purse was in the back office.

“Please don't leave!” Fright flashed across Teresa's face. “I know I am a bad girl in the eyes of the Amish, but it's of my child I'm thinking.”

Nothing Teresa was saying made sense, but Susan sat down again. Laura was almost done with her customer. Perhaps she would understand what Teresa wanted. “Where do you live, Teresa? Do you have enough food?”

“It's not that, ma'am.” Teresa's eyes fixed on the street outside. “Charlie says I have to get an abortion. That there's still time, even now. He says he can find someone.”

So that's the problem! The young woman is faced with the choice of killing her child, pressured into a choice she didn't want. She needs help to find a way out
. “You don't have to kill your baby,” Susan told her. “I'm sure we can help. Laura will be done soon, and we can talk to her.”

Teresa shook her head. The bakery door opened, and a man walked in holding a small girl's hand. Teresa's eyes turned to look, but quickly returned to Susan. “If I do what Charlie wants, they will kill the child. God knows I couldn't take that.”

“You don't have to!” Susan said. “Really, you don't.”

“Charlie has left me—until I get an abortion.”

“God doesn't want you killing your child, Teresa. You don't have to listen to Charlie.”

Across the room the man was selecting the pastries he wanted, allowing the little girl to pick her own. It would be a few moments at least before Laura could come over.

Susan caught a glimpse of her coffee behind the canisters. It would be cold by now.

“That's what I want,” Teresa said as she tapped Susan on the arm and pointed with her chin toward the man and girl.

“What?” Susan turned to look.

“The life they have,” Teresa said. “Look how he loves her! But that's not usually found in my world. And it never will be. I need someone to take my child. To raise him in a godly home.”

Susan let out a deep breath. “God is able to do miracles for anyone!”

“He can?” Teresa's eyes lit up.

Susan nodded. This young woman was living far from any life she knew, but Susan knew the girl's heart must yearn for God. They were different people, and yet the same in ways that were hard to understand.

“Then you will do it?” Teresa asked.

Susan felt the woman's fingers digging into her arm. “Do what, Teresa?” she asked.

“Take my baby as your own! Take him to be raised in Amish country. Where he doesn't have to grow up to be the kind of person I am.”

S
usan looked out at the street through Laura's big glass window, the roar of the automobiles loud in her ears.
What had Teresa just said? That she wants to give me the baby? Wants me to take it back to the community? That's not possible! And I can't take care of a baby! Besides, I barely know this woman
.