The Bishop's Daughter (12 page)

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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

BOOK: The Bishop's Daughter
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Naomi glanced into the adjoining quilt shop where Abby and Stella were stacking bolts of fabric onto shelves.
I wonder if Abby wishes she could have taken the time to attend the wood-stacking bee. She’s been so busy lately that she hardly has time for a lunch break, so it’s a good thing my little sister will begin helping her and Stella next week
. She folded her arms and smiled.
I’m glad to have someone as sweet and kind as Abby for a sister-in-law. Poor thing went through a lot when she first came to Pennsylvania to help her mamm, and it’s good to see her so happy now
.

Abby was a good wife to Naomi’s older brother, and the Lord had blessed them with five special kinner. Naomi knew that if Abby hadn’t allowed God to heal her heart after she lost Lester she and Matthew might never have gotten together.

“You gonna stand there all day starin’ into the other room with a silly grin on your face, or do ya plan to help me unload those boxes of books that came in yesterday afternoon?” Caleb touched Naomi’s arm as he spoke.

She turned to face him and smiled. “I was thinking about the past and how God has taken so many bad things that have happened to our family and turned them into something good.”

“That’s because God is good and full of blessings.”

Naomi nodded. “Jah, no truer words were ever spoken.”

Leona pushed a wayward strand of hair away from her face where it had worked its way loose from under her kapp. She and the other six women who’d come to cook for the men had been busy all day. Besides the two stockpots of homemade noodles and a kettle of wieners they had served for lunch, they’d taken turns running back and forth with jugs of water, coffee, and iced tea for the men to drink whenever they needed a break from the woodcutting, hauling, and stacking. For dessert there had been store-bought ice cream and some of Bertha Lapp’s delicious peanut butter cookies. By three o’clock, most of the wood had been hauled over to the pile, and the remaining pieces were now being stacked by the men while the boys and young women began a game of volleyball.

“Looks like they’re havin’ fun out there,” Mary Ann said, staring wistfully out the kitchen window as she and Leona finished up the last of the dishes needing to be washed and dried.

Bertha stepped between them. “There’s no reason the two of you can’t join the game. Fannie’s still here, so she and I can finish up.”

“That’s right,” Fannie agreed. “You two go have yourselves a little fun in the sun.”

“You can play ball if you want to,” Leona said to her friend. “I think I’ll just watch from a chair on the porch.”

Mary Ann tipped her head. “I thought you liked to play volleyball. Always did when we were kinner.”

“I do enjoy playing, but I won’t chance getting hit in the face with the ball and reinjuring my naas.”

“That makes sense.” Mary Ann dried her hands on a towel, and she and Leona scooted out the door.

For the next hour, Leona sat in a wicker chair, alternating between watching the game in progress and staring at the sky, which had suddenly grown dark.

“Looks like we might be in for a storm.”

Leona jumped at the sound of Abner’s deep voice. “Jah, the wind’s picked up considerably in the last few minutes,” she said, wrapping her arms around her middle and suppressing a shiver.

Abner tromped up the steps, his knees bowed slightly, and his black work boots clomp-clomping. When he reached the porch, he dropped into the chair next to Leona’s and looked over at her with a crooked grin. “Wonder if we’ll get some
wedderleech
and
dunner
.”

“I hope not. It will be hard enough to drive home in the rain, and if there’s lightning and thunder, my horse will become skittish, the way she always does in a storm.”

“Guess everyone will have to hang out here ’til the storm passes.”

“How come you’re not out there playing ball with the others?” she asked.

He shrugged and ran his fingers through the sides of his dark hair. “Aw, I’d probably just make a fool of myself.”

Leona opened her mouth to comment, but a clap of thunder sounded, cutting off her words. Suddenly, a burst of wind came up, lifting the trampoline that was used by the Lapps’ grandchildren high into the air. She watched in horror as it sailed over the woodshed, making two holes in the roof and landing upside down on the ground several feet away. Everyone who’d been playing ball rushed toward the house, and the men who’d been stacking wood made a mad dash for the barn.

“That was unbelievable!” Abner shouted, rising to his feet. “I’ve never seen anything like it before, have you?”

Leona shook her head.

“Guess we’d better wait awhile before we head for home,” Mary
Ann said as she stepped onto the porch.

Leona stood. “Think I’ll go in the house and see if my help is needed. Bertha might have some refreshments she wants to serve.” She hurried away, leaving Abner to stand beside Mary Ann.

As Jimmy pulled his pickup into the driveway, he frowned. Dad’s van was here, parked at an odd angle. He’d either been in a hurry when he got home or he was drunk. Jimmy suspected the latter, because his dad hadn’t returned to the job site today, nor had he answered any of Jimmy’s phone calls. It was his usual pattern whenever he decided to go on a bender; only sometimes Dad didn’t come home until the next morning, and then he would be out of sorts and worthless for days.

Jimmy gritted his teeth. “He’d better not be drunk, because if he is, I’m going to—” What was he going to do? Go to work tomorrow morning and cover for his dad, the way he’d done countless other times? Tiptoe around the house, sidestepping Dad and cleaning up the mess he always made when he drank himself sick?

“I’m getting tired of this,” Jimmy mumbled as he exited his truck. From what he could remember, when Mom was alive, his dad’s drinking hadn’t been so bad. Dad had always been one to have a few too many beers now and then, but he never used to come home drunk or allow his work to become affected by his drinking. Dad’s drinking binges had become more frequent in recent years, and it had fallen on Jimmy’s shoulders to hold everything together—at home as well as on the job.

Maybe this time will be different
, he thought.
Dad may have forgotten to turn his cell phone on, and he may have had more errands to run than he first thought. He could be in the house right now, starting supper
. He let himself in through the back door and soon discovered that the kitchen was empty. There was no sign of his dad’s lunch box on the cupboard, which was where he usually left it. “Dad, I’m home!” Jimmy called, stepping into the hallway.

No answer, just the steady
tick-tock
,
tick-tock
of the grandfather clock.

“Where are you, Dad?” Jimmy stepped into the living room and halted. There lay his dad on the living room floor with five empty beer
bottles on the coffee table and another one in the curled fingers of his hand.

Jimmy groaned and dropped to his knees beside his dad.
Well, at least he’s still breathing
. He shook the man’s shoulders. “Wake up, Dad. You need to get off the floor. Come on, I’ll help you get upstairs to bed.”

His dad’s head lulled to one side, and he moaned. “I—I did it for you, Linda. You wanted a baby—so I gave you one—the only way I knew how.”

Even though the words were slurred, Jimmy knew what his dad had said. He’d obviously been using the fact that Jimmy knew about his adoption as an excuse to get drunk.
Dad must feel guilty because he couldn’t give Mom any children of his own
.

“Come on, Dad. You’ve got to get up.”

No response, except for a loud hiccup.

“You can’t stay on the floor all night.” Jimmy shook his dad’s shoulder again, but the only reply he got was a plea for more beer. “I’m not getting you anything more to drink. You need to sleep this off, but not here on the living room floor.”

Dad closed his eyes, and his heavy breathing turned to loud snores.

Sometimes family members can be enablers. You need to practice tough love
. His friend’s recent admonition echoed in Jimmy’s ears. “I know Allen’s right, but it’s a lot easier said than done,” Jimmy mumbled. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. Then, rising to his feet, he grabbed the lightweight throw from the couch, threw it across his dad’s chest, and left the room. It was time for Dad to sink or swim. It was time for Jimmy to make a decision.

J
im’s eyelids felt heavy as he struggled to sit up. He blinked against the invading light streaming in through the window and glanced around the living room.
What am I doing here, and what’s that horrible smell?
As his eyes began to focus and reality set in, he realized that he was wearing the same white shirt and painter’s pants he’d had on yesterday, and the putrid smell was his own body odor, combined with the pile of vomit not far from where he lay.

Where’s Jimmy? Why didn’t he put me to bed like he always does whenever I can’t make it there on my own?

Jim moaned as he stood on shaky legs. There seemed to be no way to hold his head that didn’t hurt.
I need some coffee and a couple of aspirin. I need—
He glanced at the mess he’d made on the carpet and grimaced.
I need Jimmy—where’s Jimmy?

He stumbled out to the kitchen, figuring Jimmy might be there making coffee, even though his nose told him otherwise. Maybe Jimmy was still in bed or had left for work already, figuring Jim would be too hung over to make it today.

When Jim realized Jimmy wasn’t in the kitchen, he staggered over to the coffeemaker and was about to reach for the pot when he saw an envelope lying on the counter with his name on it.
Jimmy must have left me a note so I’d know he’s gone to work without me
.

He got the coffee going, took a seat at the table, and ripped open the envelope.

Dad
,

I think I know what triggered this recent bender, but it’s still no excuse. I’ve got a feeling the reason you still haven’t called that lawyer in Maryland is because you’re afraid if I find my real
parents that I won’t love you anymore or might not come home
.

Jim moistened his lips and squinted at the page.
Come home? Has Jimmy gone somewhere?

He read on.

Last night after I found you passed out on the living room floor, I made a decision. Since I’m the one who was adopted, it’s really my job to search for information about my biological parents, not yours. So I left for Maryland early this morning. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out anything
.

Take care, Dad. I’ll be in touch
.

Love
,
Jimmy

Jim let the note slip to the floor as he dropped his head to the table. “Oh, Jimmy, what have you done?”

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