The Revealing (11 page)

That afternoon, during her “planned spontaneity time,” she drove to town to walk around Main Street. She passed the Stoney Ridge Wild Bird Rescue Center and saw a young man inside with a big bird on his gloved arm. Brooke stopped and watched him for a while through the large picture-glass window. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was talking to the bird. She had never liked birds, so she moved along. In the air was the scent of bread baking and her tummy rumbled. She
couldn’t stop thinking about a certain pastry she’d had for breakfast at Eagle Hill yesterday morning. She noticed the Sweet Tooth Bakery and crossed the street.

Inside the bakery, everything looked so delicious in the glass case that Brooke couldn’t decide what to pick out. “I’m staying at the Inn at Eagle Hill,” she told the clerk, “and the innkeeper made blueberry lemon squares. They were—” Brooke’s eyes went to the ceiling—“just amazing! Any chance you have any?”

“No.” The clerk seemed greatly annoyed that Brooke would mention anyone else’s baking while in her store. She glanced impatiently at the line that was forming behind Brooke.

What to get, what to get . . .

“Try the cinnamon roll,” a man behind her in line whispered. “They’re out of this world.”

Brooke took his advice, bought a coffee to go along with the cinnamon roll, and sat down. She took a bite of the cinnamon roll and froze. It was . . . heavenly. Sweet, flaky, just the right amount of cinnamon.

“Was I right?” The customer who made the suggestion stood by her table.

Brooke swallowed down the bite, nodding, trying not to choke. “So right.” He was possibly the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His dark blue eyes had the kind of lashes women envy, fair curly hair around his ears, his features had flawless symmetry and beauty. He was dazzling, startlingly attractive. Hard to tell how old he was—but she guessed he was in his late twenties.

He smiled at her, she smiled back, and she pointed to the empty chair. “Please, sit down.”

His name was Jon Hoeffner, he said, a scholar, and he was
taking a sabbatical from the university to do some research in Lancaster on family ancestry.

“Interesting,” Brooke said. “I’d love to hear more.” Mostly, she’d love to hear more of anything from this gorgeous creature.

“And what about you?” Jon asked. “Did I happen to hear you tell the bakery clerk that you’re staying at the Inn at Eagle Hill?”

Brooke nodded. “Do you know it?”

“I’ve heard good things about it.” He took a sip of his coffee. “So, when you’re not vacationing at a quaint Amish inn, what do you do?”

“I am a professional art restorer.”

Mid-sip, Jon froze. Then he set the coffee cup down and leaned forward, fascinated. “Tell me more,” he said, his smile wide and generous. “Tell me everything.”

If it weren’t for the fact that they were sitting in a bakery in a tiny Amish town, Brooke would have thought he was flirting, being suggestive. “Ask me whatever you want and I’ll answer whatever I want,” she said in exactly the same tone, and their eyes met.

7

R
ose reminded the family of Tobe’s mid-April birthday and even organized separate birthday cards from Sammy, Luke, and Mim so that they could each sign them.

This year, Luke was indignant. “Why should I? Tobe never bothers to remember my birthday.”

Rose covered Luke’s hand with hers, marveling at how big it had become this year. He was inching toward thirteen, an unsettled age. “That was last year. I think Tobe will remember this year. He wants to be part of the family again.”

“I’m too old to be sending silly cards to him.” Luke snatched back his hand. “It’s not like he’s my real brother, anyway. He’s only my half brother.”

Rose felt a flash of anger and gave him a sharp look. “Then why don’t you just explain to me what is ‘real’? Was it real that winter when Tobe fished you out of the pond you went skating on without checking first to be sure it was frozen over? Was it real when Tobe carried you home from school because you’d broken your arm after falling out of the tree? Tobe
is
your real brother and Bethany
is
your real sister and
I won’t hear another word out of you on that subject. Is that clear?” She held a pen out to him.

He signed his name on the card and slunk away.

Luke’s defiant nature wore her out. She feared there would always be a part of him that was drawn to risk, ignoring obvious dangers and warnings. He, more than the other children, was most like his father. So like Dean.

Today she had received a letter from Teacher Danny about Luke’s bold behavior at school—just like the ones she used to receive from Teacher M.K. last year, on a regular basis. She thought he had turned a corner when Will Stoltz moved to town and took him under his wing at the Wild Bird Rescue Center. Luke’s fiery temper was less likely to flare up at small things, his passion for birds motivated him to read and study. But Will had less time for Luke after he found his girlfriend, Jackie. Then Jesse Stoltzfus moved in across the street. Two years behind him in school, Luke admired Jesse’s brash ways and tried to act and sound like him. He had no patience for Sammy anymore. Too much of a baby, he would tell him, when Sammy tried to follow the boys around.

Luke had slipped backward on his bumpy road to maturity.

Sammy picked up the pen after Luke had dropped it and studied the card before solemnly signing it, using his newly acquired third-grade cursive handwriting. He bit the tip of his tongue as he wrote.

Rose looked at Sammy affectionately. He was still a little boy, full of wonder. Everything fascinated him. A speckled bird’s egg. A rainbow sparkling in the sun. He had made a pet out of a raccoon once, and Dean let him keep it for a spell before setting it free.

Sammy was such a funny little thing, quirky and serious
but never a moment’s trouble to her. Unlike Luke, who was a source of constant mischief and friction. Luke would argue that a blackbird was white.

“I did it!” he exclaimed jubilantly, smiling up at her. He handed the pen to Mim, who had to stop and think carefully what she wanted to say before she signed the card.

Mim was so timid, so unsure of herself. She had inherited her grandmother’s pessimism, Rose thought regretfully. She seemed to expect the worst from every situation. Well, perhaps it was better than having expected great things and having got so little, the way Dean had viewed the world.

Mim was losing the baby roundness to her face and turning into a young woman. It was funny how you could look at a person every day and not notice how she was changing until something startled you into seeing her with fresh eyes.

Such a gift God had given Rose when these children were born. The ups and downs, the joys and sorrows—motherhood made her life full and rich, to the point of overflowing.

Rose sealed the envelope and put a stamp on the corner. She hurried to put it in the mailbox before the postman came by. As she closed the lid to the mailbox, she watched a car slow and turn into the driveway. As the car sputtered to a stop, she walked toward it, assuming the driver was lost. Out of the car bounced a young woman, tiny and delicate, with hair the color of spice cake, and a belly bulging with pregnancy. She wore a tight T-shirt with an arrow pointing down toward her abdomen, the words
Under Construction
printed across her chest.

Rose slowed her steps. The young woman looked up at the farmhouse, blue eyes glittering, as cold as a February fog off Blue Lake Pond, before she settled on Rose.

“Do you need directions?” Rose asked.

“Not if this is the Inn at Eagle Hill.”

“It is.”

Luke’s dog, Micky, came charging up to the young woman and she batted him away. “I don’t like dogs!”

Rose called Micky back to her side.

“You must be Rose. Tobe’s stepmother?”

Rose bristled. She disliked being referred to as a stepmother. She might not have been Tobe’s biological mother, but she was a mother to him in every way that mattered. “I’m Rose Schrock.”

The young woman smiled sweetly. “I’m Paisley. Tobe’s girlfriend. And this,” she patted her enormous belly, “is your stepson’s soon-to-be-born child.”

Rose’s eyes swept down to the girl’s round stomach. Her mouth opened but nothing came out for a full minute. Maybe longer. She was speechless. Paisley didn’t even notice. She just beamed as if she was the happiest person on earth. Rose had no idea what to do or to say. She had never known Tobe to have a girlfriend, not ever, and with a name like Paisley, she was fairly certain she would have remembered.

Paisley waved in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s go inside so I can meet Mammi Vera. She’s standing at the window looking at us.” Her face lit up even more so, if that was even possible. “Oh! There’s the little boys! They’re pressing their noses to the window. How charming! I can’t wait to meet everyone!” She flounced toward the house, then stopped and spun around. “Rose, be a peach and bring my things.” She pointed to the car. “Backseat. The trunk doesn’t open.”

Rose peered through the car windows. Crumpled bags and empty containers from fast-food restaurants littered the
floor. She opened the back door and brought out a battered overnight suitcase and a bulky purse. A feeling of dread filled her, as if a tornado was heading her way but she wasn’t sure which direction it came from.

In the kitchen, Rose cleared her throat and introduced Paisley to Vera as Tobe’s friend and tried to smile but knew it came out forced and wrong.

Paisley smiled largely at Vera. “Oh, dear Mammi Vera! My sweet Tobe has told me so very much about you! He just adores you.” Then she turned to the boys and spoke in a sugary voice to them. “Aren’t you two munchkins just the cutest things!”

Mim walked in the kitchen and froze. For a long moment, everyone seemed completely dazed by Paisley’s looks and by the way she talked. For a girl with such a small frame, she had the biggest, roundest stomach they had ever seen.

On and on Paisley went, oohing and aahing over what a quaint village Stoney Ridge was and how charming Eagle Hill was. Buttered up by the compliments, Vera’s tight face softened. Rose thought Vera would recoil from such overfamiliarity but, to her amazement, she saw her almost preening.

The boys stared at Paisley, their mouths hung open, their eyes opened even wider. Rose put a firm hand on their shoulders and squeezed. “Close your mouths, boys, before a fly lands in them. Time to go feed the livestock.”

“Aw, Mom,” Luke said, eyes glued on Paisley.

“Go,” Rose said, shooing the boys outside. Mim wasn’t much better—she was still standing against the doorjamb with a baffled look on her face. “Mim, you help them.” Sammy practically stumbled over Mim because he couldn’t take his eyes off Paisley. Rose closed the kitchen door and
turned to face Paisley. She tried to smile. “Tobe should have told us about you.”

“I suppose he’s shy like that,” Paisley said. “But he’ll have to get used to having a wife.”

Rose froze. “A wife?”

Paisley laughed at the shocked look on her face. “We haven’t tied the knot yet. Soon, though. As soon as he gets out of jail. He needs to make an honest woman out of me.”

Vera’s eyes went wide and she clutched her chest. Rose wasn’t too worried. Vera clutched her chest a lot.

“When did you last see Tobe?” Rose asked.

“Before he went into the slammer.” Paisley laughed and patted the bump of her stomach. “Obviously.” Her blue eyes darted around the room, taking everything in. “Do you happen to know when he’ll be released?”

“Any day now,” Vera said firmly, though Rose knew she had no idea.

“Soon, you’ll be admiring all this,” she said to the unborn baby.

“And how did you say you met Tobe?” Rose said.

“Actually, I didn’t say.” Paisley peered out the kitchen window. “He was a customer at the restaurant where I worked. It was love at first sight.”

“Paisley,” Rose said carefully, “do you have any proof?”

“Proof?”

“About Tobe. Try to understand—you seem to know a great deal about us and yet we’ve never heard a word about you.”

Paisley looked at Rose for a long moment, then went to her luggage that Rose had set in the corner of the kitchen. She rummaged around, and then held up a blue shirt.

Rose took the shirt from her. She had made Tobe that shirt three Christmases ago. She remembered every stitch, every seam. Big and square, narrow at the waist. Paisley pulled something else out of her battered suitcase and thrust it at Rose. It was a picture of Tobe with his arm around the shoulders of a then-thin Paisley. “That was taken a year or so ago.”

Vera took the photo from Rose and sat down to examine it.

“I can hardly wait to meet the girls and see more of your wonderful house and farm.” Paisley peeked into the living room. “It must be wonderful to be so rich!” Her face was flushed and eyes bright, much too bright.

Rich?
Rich!
Rose nearly laughed out loud but didn’t dare, with Vera only a few feet away.

Just this morning a neighbor brought over a bushel of cabbage claiming they’d had a bumper crop last fall and needed to start cleaning out the root cellar to get ready for spring. Lately, it seemed, everyone thought of the Schrocks when they needed to share their over-wintered fall vegetables. Eagle Hill had more onions, carrots, turnips, and cabbages than Rose knew what to do with, yet she was grateful for the kindness of their neighbors.