Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (14 page)

“Come this way.”

They followed the pink-fingernailed lady into a small office. She sat behind the desk and gestured to two chairs on the opposite side. Her nails clicked on the computer keys as she spoke. “The first objective of an adoption search is to discover the names of the birth parents who gave you up for adoption. I see you’ve written the name of a hospital and the agency who handled your adoption. That’s a start, but the more we have, the quicker we’ll find information. Do your parents or anyone else in your family have any insight that may be helpful?”

Annie’s skin crawled at the thought of asking her daed for anything about the adoption. He wouldn’t want to know she was inquiring for information

“No, they don’t know anything.” She looked down as she answered, not wanting to answer anymore similar questions.

“Can you ask them to contact government officials for documents, such as an amended birth certificate, petition for adoption, and the final decree of adoption?” She stopped typing and looked from Annie to Rudy.

Rudy spoke before Annie had to. “No, we can’t ask them to do anything.” He held Annie’s stare until she nodded her understanding then continued.

“With the information you’ve given me, we’ll search for nonidentifying information. It will be released to you and may include clues to help you in your adoption search. The amount of information varies depending upon the details that were recorded at the time of the birth and adoption.” She stopped talking and typing, corrected something on the screen, and went on.

“Each agency, governed by the state law and agency policy, releases what is considered appropriate and non-identifying, and may include details on the adoptee, adoptive parents, and birth parents such as”—she cleared her throat and pushed the keyboard aside—“medical history, health status, cause of and age of death, height, weight, eye and hair color, ethnic origins, profession, and religion. Do you have any questions?”

“What else can we be doing while we wait to hear the results of your search?” Annie moved to the front of her seat with paper and pencil, ready to write down anything that this woman said she could do.

The lady pulled out some papers from a file on the desk. “There are some registries you can plug in to. I’ll make a copy of this sheet for you. There’s one that matches people who might be looking for each other. Another is more of a support group, but they also help each other with information concerning new laws, search techniques, and other up-to-date information they’ve learned from their own personal experiences. There’s also a service that will help you search, for a fee, but I’ve heard they’re very successful.”

Rudy put up a hand to stop her. “What do they do that makes them successful?”

“Many states, including Virginia, have instituted intermediary or search consent systems to allow adoptees and birth parents the ability to contact each other through mutual consent. The Confidential Intermediary Program is given access to the court or agency file and, using the information, attempts to locate the individuals.”

“What happens if they find them?” Annie asked.

“The person found is given the option of allowing or refusing contact with the searching party. If the person located agrees to contact, the court will authorize the CIP to give the name and current address to us, and we will contact both parties.”

Annie caught her breath at the thought. “And then what?”

The lady smiled to one side. “Then one of you makes contact, or not.”

Annie frowned. “What do you mean by ‘or not’?”

“Sometimes people just want to know that the person is out there, but once they get the information, they never connect.” She shrugged.

Annie let that sink in but still didn’t understand why a person wouldn’t want to communicate with part of her family. “Danke. I appreciate you taking the time to explain all of this. It’s very complicated.”

The lady smiled. “You’re the first Amish I’ve had ask for this sort of assistance—any assistance, for that matter. I’m sure it’s a very unique situation, so I wanted to help.”

“Praise Gott.” Annie whispered so softly neither Rudy nor the lady noticed. “What’s your name?”

She stuck out her hand. “Sarah, Sarah Webb.”

The same as her mother’s. Annie’s eyes filled, and she blinked rapidly to keep her tears from spilling. She shook her hand. “Danke, Sarah Webb.”

 
Chapter Fourteen
 

S
AWDUST SWIRLED AROUND
John as battery-powered saws cut through long boards that would be the tall sides of the barn. He was one of three men carrying them to a group that placed the planks side by side, ready to be hammered into the frame they’d built that morning.

Another dozen boys wearing carpenter bags filled with hammers and nails would help pound nails into the board connecting with a beam. The men would follow behind them to make sure they finished the job correctly.

A third group spread out on the roof, placing tar paper on top. The scent of freshly cut wood filled the air as each man and boy worked at his task while the women prepared the food. Not one person stood idle; it was a swarm of busy activity, and John relished it. He secured the walls into place and then climbed down to fasten the boards of the roof.

He couldn’t count how many barn-raisings he’d done and dreamed of the day it would be his time. He had chosen the land and the direction the barn doors would face, leading out to the largest field of
welschkorn
his daed owned. Being the oldest, he’d pick his section of the property, leaving his younger brothers equal amounts.

Annie wanted a view of the hills, but he’d disagreed and chosen the valley. Now it seemed unimportant, and John wished he would have at least listened to her opinion before deciding. He wished a lot of things were different. One was telling her how much he appreciated her coming out to the fields during harvest or a barn-raising to bring him her lemonade. Some of the other girls did the same for their beaus, but no one made lemonade like Annie, or had her way. She put in extra lemon—not too much, to make it sour, but enough to give a good tang to quench the thirst. And Annie was not only appealing to look at; she was also mature and steadfast in her faith.

Another regret was waiting to ask her to court for the upcoming wedding season. When he thought back on it, they’d actually courted most of their lives. Because of this it was difficult to make them officially a couple, because they already were in his mind. Then, when Annie had found out about her birth mother, he’d felt sure he should wait, but he’d never regretted anything more in his life. Maybe affirming their intentions would have kept her at home or ensured her return.

Irene, the woman whose barn was being built, called to everyone. “
Komm esse
!”

They all stopped what they were doing. Tool belts unsnapped, the buzz of saws ceased, and hammers were silenced. All the men walked over to the dozen tables set up, lined with long benches. Soap, towels, and three tubs of water were set up to wash with before sitting down. The hot, sweaty men sat side by side, passing the food as quickly as they talked of their progress on the barn. The women bustled around, adding more dishes of potato salad, chicken, and Jell-O salad for the young ones.

Hanna came up beside John. “Save room for my pumpkin pie,” she said as she set the huge orange pastry in front of him. The chatter dulled as the men stared at the monster pie.

“This looks really good, Hanna,” David commented, and rightly so, as he had taken Hanna to singing in his buggy for a second time now. David took the knife to cut a slice.

Hanna grabbed the knife from him. “I’ll serve.” She cut two pieces and handed one to David after handing John a piece.

David eyed John, who ignored him, but John knew he could no longer put off having a conversation with Hanna. He needed to find out what she had going on in her head. This wasn’t the way things were done. The fact that Annie was out of sight didn’t mean she was out of his mind. Sometimes he thought he reflected on her even more than before. Maybe he’d taken her for granted, always having been there, and he secretly assumed she would be all his life. He’d never actually said the words to her.

The conversation picked up again, but John ignored the pie. Silly as it seemed, he didn’t want to appear as though he was partaking in the intense attention Hanna was giving him. Still, as he sat and watched the others eat, laugh, and talk about the chore ahead of them, he wondered if he was being overly sensitive.

“What do you hear from Annie?” David glanced at John as he asked. The others remained silent, waiting for John’s answer. “She has had a safe journey.” That was all he could say, because that’s all he knew. And no one had asked up to this point, so he hadn’t had to think through an answer.

David nodded, as did some of the others. The awkward moment passed quickly when David reached for his slice of pie. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He smirked at John and then stuffed a large bite in his mouth. “Have you ever had one of Hanna’s pies?”

John took his meaning to be that he knew Hanna, and she knew him, and not to interfere. But again, he could be reading into things that weren’t there. His guilt played games with him, making him insecure, something he was unfamiliar with.

“Nee, I don’t believe I have.” He took a long swig of tea, now diluted from melting ice. Although no one else was finished, John stood, ready to get back to work. Anything to get his mind off the Beiler girls.

 
Chapter Fifteen
 

L
EVI TOLD
A
NNIE
that Essie would give her a ride to the library the next day. Annie knew Rudy would probably be more help on the computer and microfiche, but she didn’t feel that much more comfortable with him than she did Essie.

As she descended the stairs, she heard the tap of a coffee mug hit the kitchen table and the clip of Jake’s paws on the wood floor. Levi lowered the paper when he saw her. “You’re up early. The library doesn’t open for a while yet.”