Abby Finds Her Calling (26 page)

“Sister Suzanna, I commend you for remaining on your knees, in the faith—not only during this distressing turn of events today, but throughout these weeks you were under the ban,” Vernon finally said in a low voice. “We’ll continue now, by hearing your confession and then asking you the time-honored questions that follow it.”

Folks relaxed visibly. Shoulders loosened… scowls eased. Although James had a hard time hearing it again, Zanna’s clear, compelling account of her wrongdoing seemed to purge everyone of the tension Rudy Ropp’s outburst had caused.

Dat leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “Did I do the wrong thing, tellin’ Rudy to zip a lip?” His father’s eyes widened and he quivered a little. He suddenly seemed so old… so fragile. “Didn’t mean to make things harder for you—”

“Oh, Dat…” James hugged his father until their foreheads met. It wasn’t proper behavior for church, but what else could he possibly do? “I’m grateful you took my side. Grateful you’ve shown me so much more love and kindness than Rudy Ropp gave his boys. Sad story, that one.”

His father clapped him on the back. “Proud of you, son. You’re a gut man.”

The world went still. Time crystallized. James suddenly saw this moment through the bright shine of sunlight on an icicle. True enough, the bishop was asking Zanna if she believed in the salvation of Jesus Christ, but something told James to cherish this fine moment when his father was mentally clear—and to believe every word Dat had said.

A sweetness flowed through him. For the first time in weeks, James felt peaceful and right with the way things were. Sometime soon he’d know God’s purpose for putting him through these tough months with Zanna Lambright.

Stewing over that erased phone message suddenly seemed petty. And as James saw how Abby gazed at her kneeling sister with steadfast, unconditional love, it became clear to him how he should handle that erased phone call. The answer rang with the solid clarity of the Old Ways, yet gave him the hope of a new understanding about Zanna and his feelings for her.

James grinned despite the solemnity of the occasion. It felt so good to
know
how to proceed: God the Father had spoken to him
through his own earthly dat, and despite Dat’s infirmities, the message resonated loud and clear. It was another case of how the Lord worked out His purpose even through people who were imperfect—and usually unaware of the parts they played in the bigger picture.

As Zanna left the room so the members could vote, her face shone with the relief of having completed her part of this ancient ritual: confession and penitence. Forgiveness and acceptance would follow if everyone believed she had truly turned herself toward the right way again.

“Jah!” James affirmed when his turn came to vote. Dat nodded and said the same.

The vote went quickly. As Zanna returned to hear their positive verdict, sunshine beamed through the windows as though the whole world shone with the happiness James felt. Renewed. Reaffirmed. After Bishop Gingerich adjourned the meeting by suggesting a silent prayer for the Ropp family, and thanks for the meal about to be served, what a wonderful moment it was. The younger women flocked forward to hug Zanna, exclaiming over how they had missed her and saying that she looked like a rose in bloom.

James agreed. His heart thrummed when Mary and Martha Coblentz linked arms around Zanna. When Zanna gazed at Emma and then beckoned her to join them, a circle of lifelong friendship was renewed. His sister’s joy brought tears to his eyes. She had missed her friend more than she’d been able to admit. The older women then encouraged Zanna, too, complimenting her behavior in light of the way the Ropps had tormented her.

And wasn’t that something? This was the same girl who had defied the rules and acted on impulse for most of her life.

James considered this revelation, yet another gift on this day that had started on such a sour note. He rehearsed what he might say about the phone message—yet this was not the time to address his own need for forgiveness. He could wait for a quiet, more ordinary moment when Zanna would truly hear what he needed to say.

When he stepped up to her, James reached for both of her hands rather than settling for the customary handshake. This was the woman he’d planned to marry, after all: he loved Zanna even if that emotion had changed shape and meaning over these past couple of months. Her hands still felt so tiny in his; those bottomless blue eyes still swallowed him whole when Zanna focused on him.

“It’s a wonderful day,” he murmured, aware he was talking yet not sure what words were coming out.

“Jah. Denki for your kindness, James. You could have acted a lot different.”

Again he considered the change in her tone, her response. This ordeal was making a woman of her, even if she was no longer
his
woman. “I hope we can talk soon, Zanna. I—I have things to tell you.”

Her eyes widened. “That would be fine,” she replied, glancing at the others who were waiting to greet her. “You know where to find me.”

“Jah.” He gently squeezed her hands, aware of how others were following their conversation. “Take care, now.”

“You, too, James.”

W
hat had James meant by his mysterious remarks? All afternoon Zanna replayed the feel of his hands holding hers, the expression on his face… the light that shimmered in his deep brown eyes.
I hope we can talk soon, Zanna. I have things to tell you.

As the common meal progressed, she reminded herself that he had nothing romantic in mind: James Graber wouldn’t be proposing again, nor did she want to marry him. Raising her baby would be so much easier with a husband, though—not that she’d called Jonny back to tell him he was going to be a father. The table talk reminded her of something else Jonny should probably know, however: his mamm needed Gideon and him more than ever now that Rudy’s temper had boiled over for all of Cedar Creek to see.

“Never heard the likes of such talk in church,” Nell Coblentz remarked as she passed along a relish tray. Like her twin daughters, she had auburn hair, and her fair complexion colored with her emotions.

“And while Rudy was never one to visit much, who would have dreamed he had such a temper? And who could believe Adah’s been living with it—and her being so outspoken,” Lois Yutzy joined in.
“Here—I brought these candied fruit buns for you to try before I bake them for the shop. Got the starter from a gal over in Jamesport.”

“Jah, I’ve been eyeing those,” Mamm said as she snatched one from the basket. “The way Abby told it, she and Zanna couldn’t leave fast enough when they took that rug to Adah on Thanksgiving Day. Do you suppose he’s really leaving the church? Or moving to another settlement and taking his milk cows with him?”

“I don’t think Rudy’s got the money for a move like that,” Bessie Mast remarked. “But one thing’s for certain. Adah and those girls don’t want to go with him. And that opens a whole new can of worms.”

“Jah, the bishop’s got his hands full.”

Zanna finished eating her slice of red velvet cake and excused herself. After the common meal, the younger people usually planned activities for Sunday evening. As she approached the barn, where they went when it was too cold to stay outside, it felt good to spend time with her buddy bunch again—to speak freely to them now that she’d submitted to the shunning and restored herself to full membership.

She paused inside the door. The volleyball nets were set up and they were choosing teams. Physical exercise would do her good, but did expectant mothers play such boisterous games? What if the baby got hit by a spiked ball? If she jumped up and then landed wrong, would the baby be jarred loose? Her arm curved protectively around her belly.

Zanna realized, too, that most of these friends were still enjoying their rumspringa… and were probably a few years away from taking their baptismal vows. And while some of them had paired up—like Phoebe and Owen Coblentz, who were sharing a huge gingerbread man over in the corner—she didn’t feel comfortable with the courting crowd, either. She’d known Mamm’s friends all her life, of course, but they were, well—old. They talked of their adult children
and their grandkids; the frustrations of aging and husbands set in their ways like mailbox posts in concrete.

So now that she’d been welcomed back… where did she fit in? While Mose and Hannah Hartzler and Perry and Salome Bontrager were close to her in age and expecting their first children, it wasn’t like they’d be including her in any of their activities. They had married last spring and were set up in new homes. She would be the only one without a partner.

Is this how it feels to be a maidel, like Abby?

For a scary moment, Zanna envisioned herself at twenty-one with a school-age child but no prospects for marriage. A lonely future of either supporting herself and her baby or remaining dependent upon Sam loomed ahead, and what a bleak existence that would be. And while Abby insisted she had remained unmarried by choice, and she’d done very well with her Stitch in Time business, she was the exception to the Amish tradition for women. After you were a daughter and a sweetheart, you became a wife and a mother, or you were just… odd. Undesirable.

Abby’s not odd!
the voice in Zanna’s head countered.

Abby doesn’t deserve to grow old alone, either. Is that what you want for a future?

Zanna hurried from the barn, stung by the way no one had noticed her standing at the door. With heartsick clarity she saw how much she’d forfeited when she left James Graber at the altar. She’d burned her bridges, too, telling him she’d only mimicked his affections and didn’t love him enough to marry him.

I hope we can talk soon, Zanna. I have things to tell you.

James’s words still teased at her. She’d seemed so sure she was head over heels with Jonny when she’d poured out her heart to Abby, but what did it say about her commitment to him—to his unborn child—if she couldn’t pick up the phone again and leave him a message? Even so, Zanna sensed she was more in love with Jonny than he would ever be with her. And while the Ropps’ dramatic exit from
church—and maybe from Cedar Creek—had obviously distressed Adah, calling Jonny to say his mother needed him was a lame way to get his attention again.

Zanna sighed. She had felt so overjoyed only an hour ago, yet now all she wanted was to go back to Abby’s.

The following Thursday night Abby sat at the little table with her sister long past the time they should have been sleeping. “Zanna, you need your rest,” she pleaded, reaching over to still the slender hands that crocheted as though Zanna’s life depended on it. “It’s all well and gut to be earning an income, but the baby wants you to sleep sometime.”

“The baby has
no
idea
,” Zanna replied in a desperate whisper. Doggedly she slipped another strip of fabric into the row she was working, to begin a new color. “What else is there for me to do, Abby? Sam still doesn’t want me working in the store, and Mamm’s closed her shop for the winter.” Zanna’s hands dropped into her lap, and she looked up sadly. “Do you know how it felt to be surrounded by my best buddies again after my confession, only to be invisible by the time we’d eaten? To become a nobody who belongs nowhere in Cedar Creek?”

“Oh, Zanna, that’s not so!” Abby gripped her sister’s trembling hands. She’d suspected all week that something had upset Zanna last Sunday, and here it was, at last. “Your friends were glad to have you back amongst them. And Barbara says this flu season’s the worst she’s seen in years, so it’s just as well you’re not working in the store, exposed to those germs from all the folks going in and out.”

“But when will it end?” Zanna blurted. “When do I get to have fun again? Never?”

Abby hugged her sister’s shaking shoulders. “I think that between being so dog-tired and having this extra helping of hormones, you’re riding a roller coaster, Zanna. If it makes you feel any better, I can remember how jumpy Mamm got while she was carrying
you.
We all walked on eggshells those nine months—”

“That wasn’t my fault, you know.”

“Of course it wasn’t, and nobody blamed you.” Abby smiled tiredly at Zanna, whose belly seemed to grow visibly each week. “You wanted out of Mamm, and we all wanted to meet you, too. But we had to wait for your time. Just like we’re waiting for this wee one you’re bringing us, Zanna.”

Her sister hung her head. “But once the baby’s born, all I see is this endless stretch of… nothing except baby tending. And nobody to share it with. Making rugs keeps me busy, but…”

Abby chuckled. “Oh, there will be all manner of special new moments and smiles—first times. And all your friends—and Mamm’s—wanting to hold your wee one and coo over it, when they bring a gift.” She paused, feeling her sister’s pain. Her desperation. Abby had been in this same desolate frame of mind when she’d watched her friends Marian and Eva get married and start families; there were no right, comforting answers to the questions that plagued Zanna. “How about if I make us some cocoa and then you can stretch out on the sofa for—”

The cry of a siren made them look up. They listened for a few more moments as the wail continued.