A Simple Change (3 page)

Soon the aroma of coffee filled the room, and I pushed away from the table. Wrapping a towel around the handle of the pot, I carried it to the table.

“And what happens to them after the year has passed?” I inhaled the fragrant aroma as I poured the hot coffee into my father's cup. “Do you think the new owner will retain them?”

“Of course. Once the owner observes their abilities, he'd be a fool to let even one of my men go.” He chuckled. “Well, there may be one or two who need to work a little harder, but I think a change in ownership will be just the thing to light a fire under them.”

After pouring coffee into my own cup, I returned the pot to the stove. “It does sound as though you've been giving this a great deal of thought. When do you think you will hear from the elders in Amana?”

My father shrugged his shoulders. “I can't say. It could be weeks or months, or it could be tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I inhaled a sharp breath and dropped into the chair.

“I don't think we will hear as soon as tomorrow, but you should give the matter much thought and prayer so that you can be at ease when the time arrives.” My father took a sip of his coffee. “I plan to make an announcement at work tomorrow. Simon doesn't think it's wise to wait any longer. We need to be fair to the workers. If any of them are fearful about the prospect of a new owner, they will be free to seek other employment. Though I hope that doesn't happen, there may be some who are unwilling to risk the possibility of change.” His shoulders slumped as he leaned back in his chair. “Of course, I've been curious about what course of action Nathan might want to take once he hears the news.”

Leaving the children would be more difficult for me than leaving Nathan, but I didn't say that to my father. I doubted he would understand. From his earlier comment, I concluded that he and my mother expected Nathan would propose marriage once he heard the news. Did they believe I would marry Nathan in order to remain in Kansas City? Surely they realized I would want to be with them.

While the children loved me with an unconditional zeal that couldn't be questioned, my relationship with Nathan ran warm and cold, depending upon his mood. If I said or did something that displeased him, he could remain aloof for days. But when he
was satisfied with me, he behaved quite the opposite. While he'd avowed his love for me on two occasions, the declarations had both been made after we'd disagreed and I'd suggested we put an end to seeing each other. To marry Nathan while still unsure of his love for me—or mine for him—would be foolhardy.

“There's my work with the children. To leave them . . .” My voice trailed off as I recalled the fun we'd had earlier that afternoon.

My father nodded. “You should let the director of the orphanage know that you are considering a move so they won't be surprised if you decide to come with us. Unless, of course, you arrive at another decision after you have prayed.” His lips curved in a lopsided grin. “And after you have spoken to Nathan.”

In my heart, I was certain of my decision. To be away from my mother during the remainder of her life was unthinkable. If I didn't go with my parents, I'd forever regret the decision. Yet they had asked me to pray before making a decision, and I intended to honor their request. Maybe God would change my mind. But Nathan? I didn't think so.

I wondered what my future would be like in Amana. Women couldn't be teachers in the colonies, a fact my parents had pointed out to me when they'd told me to seek God's direction. They didn't want me stepping into a new life without knowing the truth. And that particular truth caused me more concern than I cared to admit. No matter if it was a fact in history, geography, reading, or arithmetic, nothing gave me greater joy than to see the light of understanding shine in a child's eyes. I would miss teaching, and I prayed God would somehow fill that void in my life.

Chapter 3

I startled when the doorbell rang. After supper I'd gone to my room to read the Bible and pray. I'd promised my parents I would seek God's direction. If they should inquire, I wanted to truthfully tell them I'd kept my word. I didn't believe God would direct me to remain in Kansas City, but I was trying to remain receptive to the idea.

Not that I wanted to leave. I was quite content here. Unlike many young women, I'd never been in a hurry to marry, and being single afforded me the opportunity to spend more time with my mother as her health declined. I enjoyed occasional outings with Nathan, and I adored my work with the children.

Living at home also permitted me the luxury of teaching at the orphanage, where I volunteered my services. I loved the children and would miss them greatly. Each one held a special place in
my heart, but I needed to be with my mother during her final days—both for her sake and for mine.

When the new director of the orphanage arrived in Kansas City, he'd wanted to change my volunteer status, saying it was improper for a teacher to work without pay. But after a cursory review of the orphanage's budget, he had changed his stance. Unless a replacement could be located, my resignation would leave the orphanage with a limited teaching staff.

I glanced in the mirror, patted my hair into place, and hurried downstairs as the doorbell chimed for the second time. Over and over, I'd asked Nathan to be patient when he arrived. Since Mother's condition had worsened, the doorbell could disturb her rest. Yet he continued to ignore my requests.

Nathan removed his brown felt hat. “You appear troubled.”

His slicked-down brown hair was a perfect match for his brown eyes, brown hat, brown coat, brown trousers, and brown shoes. I pictured him standing beside a leafless tree and suppressed a smile. In that attire, he'd be a perfect match for the dormant elm in our front yard.

“Mother is sleeping. The ringing bell might waken her.”

“Sorry.” He ducked his head. “I thought maybe you hadn't heard it.” He stepped inside and I closed the door.

“The bell is loud enough I can hear it anywhere in the house.” I gestured for him to hang his coat on the hall tree.

“Did you have a bad day?” Using his thumb and forefinger, he reached forward and pretended to push my lips back into a smile. “Any coffee in the kitchen?” He winked. “And a piece of cake or pie?”

So much had happened since my return home that afternoon that I didn't wish to act the hostess, but I waved him forward.
“There may be a cup left. I don't think there is any dessert. Mrs. Oelwine left early today.”

He chuckled. “You'll have to put a stop to that. I enjoy her desserts.”

“Of late, desserts haven't been a matter of high priority to Father and me, and Mother can seldom tolerate rich food.”

My answer had been curt, and I was surprised when he stopped short and stared at me.

“What is wrong with you? You're not yourself this evening.”

I walked to the cupboard and removed a coffee cup. “I apologize, but there are times when I have more to worry about than coffee and dessert.”

“If you'd like me to leave, just say so. You did invite me, didn't you?”

I sighed. Nathan was right. None of this was his fault. “I'm sorry, Nathan.” I poured coffee into his cup and carried it to the table. “This has been a day filled with unexpected news that will change our lives.”

His thick eyebrows lifted on his forehead like two brown wiggly caterpillars. “Our lives? Yours and mine?” He pointed first at himself and then at me. “What news? I haven't heard anything.”

“The doctor told Mother there is nothing he can do to restore her health and her condition will only worsen.” I couldn't bring myself to say she was dying. “Father and Mother have decided to move back to the Amana Colonies in Iowa. It's what Mother wants, and my father has agreed.”

At first he grinned, but when he realized I was serious, he turned somber. “How can they even think of such a thing? When is this supposed to happen?”

I explained what my father had told me only a short time ago.
With each remark, he interrupted me with a host of questions. Many of which I couldn't answer. Finally I said, “You'll need to ask my father to further explain his arrangements concerning the business. I've told you everything I know.”

“Did he mention any particular plans for my future at the company? He must have some idea in mind, since we'll need a reliable income if I'm going to support you.”

“Support me?” My mind reeled. Did he think that I would remain behind and marry him? We hadn't discussed marriage. What was he thinking? “Why would you think you would need to support me?”

He studied me for a moment. “You know I have feelings for you. I've hesitated to mention marriage because you told me that you believed couples should know each other for a long period of time before taking their vows.” He wrapped his hands around the coffee cup. “Have you considered the possibility that this is a sign we should move forward with wedding plans?”

I shook my head. “No, I don't think it's a sign we should marry. I promised my parents I would pray about my future, though I believe I know what I should do.”

His brow creased, and I didn't miss the concern shadowing his eyes. “You're not thinking of going with them, are you?” He pushed aside the empty cup.

I nodded. “Of course I am. To be honest, I believe there's little choice to be made. I can't imagine being separated from my mother when she's ill and needs me.”

He leaned forward and extended his hand. “You don't need to move there. You could go and visit from time to time. I'd go with you. If you don't want to marry right away, you could make some sort of arrangement with one of the other teachers at the
orphanage. Maybe remain here in the house and rent rooms to some of them.”

“Rent rooms? I don't want to operate a boardinghouse when my mother needs me. Besides, my parents plan to sell the house. They'll contribute the proceeds to the society when they go to Amana. It's the way things are done.”

“I understand you want to help your mother, but I'm sure she wants you to have a life of your own.” He stood and paced the kitchen. “What about the children at the orphanage?” Wheeling around on his heel, he pinned me with a hard stare. “You've always said you wouldn't give up your work with them.”

Like a spade in soft dirt, his words dug in and cut to the quick. “Sometimes people say things without realizing what the future holds. How could I have ever imagined such a possibility as this?”

“But if they mean so much to you, how can you so easily decide to leave them—and me?”

“As much as I care for the children, the love for my mother goes much deeper. Surely you can understand there is a vast difference.”

One look and I knew he didn't understand. How could he? Nathan's parents hadn't showered him with love and protection. His father had been a stern and cold man who'd left the family when Nathan was only ten. His mother had expected much from her only child and had given little in return. At the age of fourteen, he'd left home and never looked back.

A part of me could understand his desire to strike out on his own, especially when there had been no encouragement at home, but his lack of compassion and his indifference haunted me. How could he push aside any concern for the mother who bore him? He didn't know if she was alive or dead and harbored no desire to discover what had happened to the woman. At least that's what
he'd told me, and I had no reason to doubt him. Those thoughts had given me pause. Did Nathan possess the ability to love in a true and meaningful manner? He'd seemingly erased his mother from his life. Would he do the same if his wife ever displeased him?

He twisted around as though the statement caused him discomfort. “There comes a day when we must cling to our mates and leave our parents. This could help prepare you for our future marriage.”

“Right now I don't have a husband or children of my own, and I believe this to be a time when I can put my parents first. Unless something drastic should happen to change my mind, I plan to go with them.”

His sigh signaled his displeasure. “As much as I don't understand what you're thinking, I'm even more baffled by your parents, especially your father. As far as I can see, this plan is impulsive and unwise. A complete destruction of everything they've worked for all their lives.”

“Facing death can change a person's attitude about what's important. Besides, my parents have never considered wealth their ultimate goal.”

Nathan returned to his chair. “Maybe not, but they've achieved more than most. It seems strange that they're willing to hand it over without a thought of providing for your future.”

His tone surprised me. “Whatever they've earned is theirs. I have no claim to any of their property. If it gives my parents peace and happiness to contribute their assets and return to the colonies, who am I to say otherwise?”

“You are their daughter. Are you willing to live in poverty?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I had hoped one day to purchase the business from your father, but it seems that dream
will fade along with all the other aspirations I've ever had. There's no bank that would loan me enough money to purchase the construction company.”

Nathan hunched his shoulders and looked every bit as despondent as he'd sounded. This conversation had become about him rather than about me, my parents, or my mother's illness, and the thought grieved me.

I forced a smile. “Would you like more coffee?”

He shook his head. “Tell me about Amana. I want to understand what it is that appeals to your parents and why they would want to return.”

“You should ask my father. My knowledge is limited since I've never lived there and never questioned my parents much about their life before they came to Kansas City. It didn't seem particularly important.” My thoughts raced back in time. I recalled a few times when my mother had mentioned things that had happened in the colonies, but I'd been more interested in my playmates and school than in hearing about my mother's past. “Beyond telling you that it is a communal society where they still speak a German dialect and live a simple life based upon their religious beliefs, there's not much I can tell you.”

Nathan rubbed his jaw. “And you believe you will be happy living in this sort of place?”

I hesitated and considered his question. I prided myself on my ability to adjust to new circumstances, but living in a communal society would require drastic changes. Adjustments that would likely prove much more difficult than anything I'd ever encountered.

“I don't know if I'll be happy, but I'll be with my parents and I want to care for my mother during this time when she needs me.”

His lips tightened into a thin line. “I can't believe you can so easily make this choice.”

I understood his surprise and dismay, but I had hoped he would honor my decision—that he would understand and support me no matter my choice. Yet I didn't believe Nathan had the ability to push aside his own wants and needs. For most of his life, he'd had only himself to depend upon—and only himself to please.

And though we'd made no commitment to each other, he expected me to say that I'd remain in Kansas City and convince my father to retain Forsythe Construction. That way Nathan could someday become the owner.