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Authors: Beverly Lewis

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BOOK: The Telling
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“Heather Nelson... and she, too, could use your prayers.”

“Oh?”

Grace thought of saying she planned to visit Heather later today, but there was no need to fuel this flame. It wasn’t Prissy’s business that Heather was staying at the Wellness Lodge – or why – and Grace didn’t want to risk Prissy’s passing on word to everyone within hearing distance. No, she knew Adam’s fiancée too well to mistake her interest now as anything other than fishing for gossip.

“Have a nice afternoon,” Grace said, ready to bring an end to their conversation.

This time, Prissy took the hint and replaced the bottle of sun block. And when she pushed her grocery cart away, she walked with quicker steps than before, her head tilted high.

Relieved that Prissy wouldn’t be bothering her anymore – at least for today – Grace resumed her work.

twenty-0ne

L ater that afternoon, when Joe dropped Grace off at the Wellness Lodge, she offered to walk home.

“Ya sure? I could come back for you,” her brother offered kindly.

“Well, I can’t be certain how long I’ll visit with Heather. But thanks.”

He held the reins and gave a nod. “Say, before I forget, Martin Puckett stopped by while you were working and asked Dat if you’d want to help his wife plan an herb garden. In exchange for some free transportation.”

The thought of designing an herb garden scarcely seemed like work to Grace. “What’d Dat think of it?” she asked eagerly.

Joe grinned. “Well, any time he can get a free ride... ya know?”

“So he’s in agreement?”

“He asked me to mention it to you. Just give Janet Puckett a call tonight if you want to help.”

“All right, then.” Grace would go to the phone shanty right after supper. She watched Joe leave, then made her way down the lane toward the Wellness Lodge.

She found Heather sitting in the backyard again, facing the creek, her laptop nowhere in sight. Heather smiled to see her. “I’m famished, Grace! Never been so hungry in my life.”

Grace couldn’t begin to imagine what she was going through, having only experienced the twice-yearly fast before communion Sunday.

“Naturally they’re giving us plenty of liquids.” Heather went on to mention that her father was expected to arrive this evening. “He had some business to wrap up at home,” Heather told her. “Sure hope I’m good company for him.”

“Well, he’s comin’ to see
you,
however you are,”
Grace re-
assured her friend.

Heather slumped in the lawn chair beneath the tree. “I can’t explain how I’m feeling today. It’s a drastic change from yesterday,” she said quietly.

“I’m thinking ’bout you, Heather... and prayin’.”

“Thanks. Jim is, too.” Heather told her more about the fellow she’d met online. “He’s terribly ill – even worse off than I am, I think.” Heather struggled to talk. “It really weighs on me.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“He sent a text today, something from the Bible about the importance of focusing on things that are true and good – whatever is right, pure, lovely... whatever is admirable. Things like that.”

“For healing in soul and body?”

“Right. I think he’s a little God crazy.”

“Evidently he knows his Bible, too.” Grace found it sweet how interested Heather was in talking about Jim.

“It might sound kind of strange to you, but I’m fascinated by his comments.” She paused. “He’s been sending me text messages every few hours lately.”

“Ah, well, he must like you, then.”

Heather smiled. “Just trying to encourage me... that’s all.”

“Right, and you sound just like I did when you said you’d overheard Yonnie talkin’ to me last Wednesday. Remember?”

Heather grinned. “So... how
is
Yonnie?”

That brought a good laugh from Grace. “We’ve decided to be friends.”


Just
friends? Everyone agrees to that when they wish they could be more.” Heather shifted in the lawn chair. “I don’t know if Jim likes me that way or not, but, like I said, he’s crazy for God.”

“What a wonderful-
gut
thing, ain’t so?”

Heather shrugged and stared at the row of willow trees, their branches sweeping forward and down to touch the lush green lawn.

Grace breathed deeply. “I visited my mother yesterday before comin’ here to see you.” She pointed in a northerly direction. “Up yonder.”

Frowning, Heather asked, “She’s not at home?”

Grace explained gently that things were up in the air right now. “I pray she’ll be back soon, though.”

Heather turned to face her. “Oh, Grace... I feel terrible about this.” She blinked her eyes and tears welled up. She struggled to regain her composure. “I’m really sorry... what’s wrong with me?” she mumbled, shaking her head. “This must be what Sally Smucker described – I’m on emotional overload.”

Grace remembered Sally telling them about it. “Jah, she said there were days she just sat and cried.”

“And I’ve heard it can get even worse.” Heather wiped her tears, sighing.

“Is that what Jim told you?”

Heather pulled her hair back. “He’s worried about me, I think. Maybe I should be, too.”

Grace didn’t want to be pushy when talking about her faith, but she felt compelled to say something. “Ever think that God sees you here?”

Heather was silent for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes. “Sometimes,” she whispered.

“He cares about what’s happening to you.”

“Funny you should mention that. I’ve been thinking all day about something my dad told me.”

“What’s that?”

“Evidently my mom prayed for me... back when they were getting tired of waiting to adopt a baby. She was really discouraged.”

“Maybe like you are today?” Grace touched her hand.

“Knowing that gives me a wonderful comfort, especially at times like this. It’s as if God’s had His eye on me.”

“That He has.” Then Grace had an idea. “Would you like to see Sally Smucker again?”

Immediately Heather brightened. “Only if she’s not too busy....”

“I doubt she’s ever
that
busy. Where Sally’s concerned, the best thing ’bout life is people and makin’ time for them. People and time, that’s her motto.”

“Whenever Sally can squeeze in a few minutes to visit, that would be great. Thanks.”

Grace hated to leave Heather there looking so frail in the canvas lawn chair, but Mandy would be setting the supper table soon. “I’ll see you again tomorrow, all right?”

Heather clasped her hand. “Grace, it’s really kind of you to visit.”

“I like to. And know that tonight, before I sleep, I’ll be whispering your name to Jesus,” Grace said.

Heather’s face showed a flicker of hope. “I’ll count on that.”

Grace waved, then walked down the lawn toward the road. When she turned to look back at Heather, she saw that her chair was already empty.

After a delicious supper of roast beef and onions, cooked carrots, and buttered potatoes, Grace hurried to the phone shanty and left a message for Martin Puckett’s wife, agreeing to help with the herb garden. Then she dialed the number for Sally Smucker’s soap boutique. “My friend Heather’s discouraged, and I thought you’d like to know,” Grace told Sally once she’d reminded her that Heather’s lodge stay had started. “Would ya want to visit her sometime soon, maybe?”

“Poor girl... I’ll stop in to see her tomorrow morning.”

“Denki, Sally. I know it’ll mean so much.”

“Glad to help.”

They said good-bye and hung up. But walking back home, Grace wished she’d asked about Mamma – how
she
was doing. In fact, considering all the many directions Grace felt pulled in, she nearly understood why Englischers – like their neighbors the Spanglers – enjoyed the convenience of a car.

She glanced over at their big brick house. Seeing not a single vehicle parked in the driveway, she assumed Jessica was at work, trying to make enough money to fund her December wedding. Carole Spangler wasn’t at home, either. In fact, the windows were all closed up and dark, which was rare this time of year, and the Spanglers’ golden Labrador was nowhere to be seen. Recalling the worrisome things Jessica had recently shared about her parents’ pending separation, Grace breathed a prayer for them as she walked briskly home.
There’s so much sadness in this old world, Lord. Please surround the Spangler family with your presence... and love.

Then, thinking again of Mamma, she asked God for something beautiful to come of the jagged edges in folk’s lives all around her – a mending of shattered hearts and dreams.

Heather spent the first few moments of her dad’s visit that evening crying in his arms. Overwhelmed, she felt helpless to stop the flow of tears. As many times as LaVyrle and others had warned her that such reactions were common during a cleanse, Heather never dreamed she’d feel this depressed by the end of only the second day.
All the toxins in my body...

Later, Dad tried to distract her when she dried her eyes. He led her outdoors to sit with him on the wide porch. He was beaming with his news that the excavation had begun today, and soon the foundation would be poured. “After the foundation has cured, I’m told things will move along quickly.” He paused and looked at her tentatively. “I also contacted a real estate agent to look over our home and see what might need to be done to get it ready to sell.”

She groaned. “Oh, Dad...”

“Honey, what?”

“I can’t bear the thought of losing that terrific house – Mom’s and yours. My entire life is wrapped up in it.”

“Maybe you’re being overly dramatic.”

“Is it really necessary to sell it?”

He looked toward the road. The new house was only a long stone’s throw from where they sat. “This is where I want to live... and retire someday.”

She refused to back down. “Can we please just keep our present house, too?”

“Well, I won’t rush into anything... not now.” He seemed to imply that he would hang on to their home until he was sure Heather felt stronger.

“Selling our home makes me feel... disloyal somehow.”

He smiled knowingly. “I understand, honey.”

The screen door opened and LaVyrle came out to sit with them. “Hello, Mr. Nelson. So nice to have you visit.” She glanced sweetly at Heather. “I know your daughter’s very happy to see you.”

He brightened. “Oh, please just call me Roan.” He leaned toward LaVyrle as he shook her hand, holding it slightly longer than necessary. “How’s Heather doing? You’re taking good care of her, I hope.”

I’m right here, Dad!

LaVyrle explained to him once again the stages of the body’s cleansing process. “Some patients have emotional reactions, experience weepiness – ” She stopped and offered a sympathetic smile to Heather. “Everyone responds differently to juicing and fasting. Tears can be part of an emotional cleansing.”

This fact hardly made Heather feel better. She wanted something to chew on.
God made teeth for a reason, right?
She almost smiled at her private little joke.

Dad and LaVyrle talked about the lovely location of the lodge, something LaVyrle seemed to take great pride in. And they talked of the pleasant springtime weather – all positive things. LaVyrle was the ultimate upbeat PR person.

Heather’s stomach lurched, and she felt seriously nauseated. “Uh, please excuse me,” she said quickly, heading inside. Arielle helped her upstairs to her room, where she rested on the bed.

Various staff members checked on Heather over the next few minutes, but neither LaVyrle nor her father came up immediately. She assumed her dad was bending the naturopath’s ear. But she dismissed the notion that her father might be attracted to the woman. She had to. There was no way she wanted to let her brain latch on to that!

Judah’s exhausting day was long finished when he took off walking Beechdale Road, determined to see Lettie tonight. He was too aware of the empty ache within his chest, and he wanted to make up for turning away from her so abruptly yesterday. The memory of that continued to plague him as he made his way up the dark two-lane road.

The moon was well concealed behind a mass of clouds, and the musty smell of rain hung in the air as he reached down for a sturdy walking stick from the roadside.
Exactly what I need on such a murky night.
He’d already walked a mile north of his house, so he knew Josiah’s place was just around the next bend.

Until he reached the Smuckers’ Dawdi Haus, he foolishly didn’t consider that his wife might be sound asleep. And she was just that when he found her in the small bedroom, just off the kitchen. He’d let himself in the back door, and now he stood mutely in the doorway of her room, watching her sleep, her hand limp on the white sheet. Oh, but he wished to awaken her, take her in his arms, and say how much he loved her and always had. Tell her, too, that he was wrestling against the jealousy he’d long held against the man she’d loved first.

Judah leaned against the doorjamb. “I shouldn’t have rejected you yesterday,” he whispered, not wanting to startle her. “And not ever.”

He thought of their years together.
Was I aloof because of the barrier between us?
He guessed that was so, although his tendency toward being standoffish was also a culprit. But it was not an excuse.

No, they were beyond that now.

Leaning forward, he listened to her gentle breathing. He should’ve kissed Lettie instead of rushing away from her – should’ve promised to help her through the days ahead, before her coming confession.

Wanting to touch her hair, her forehead, Judah reluctantly remained in the shadows... and instead whispered, “
Gut Nacht,
love
.

twenty-two

Judah stepped back into the kitchen and went to sit on the rocking chair, aware of a distant hoot owl. With a sad sigh for the additional pain he’d brought his forlorn wife, he leaned his head against the wood and fell swiftly asleep.

Hours later, he awakened with a start and glanced about the room, not knowing at first where he was. The night hour pressed in – he heard the faltering sounds of crickets in the background – and he knew he’d fallen asleep.

Best be getting home,
he thought groggily, getting up and heading out the back door. He closed it behind him quietly, his heart racing.

On the walk home, he met not a soul the first half mile on the narrow road, moving slowly due to his limp. The vision of Lettie resting on the bed in sweet repose, her long blond hair mixed with only a few streaks of gray, sustained him somehow.

Mindful of his surroundings, Judah glanced ahead and saw a parked car sitting along the shoulder. Someone sat inside the vehicle, and he heard the sound of a woman weeping. As he approached the vehicle, he realized it belonged to the Spanglers – their English neighbors to the south. The windows were down and Carole Spangler was leaning her head against her arm on the steering wheel and crying as if someone dear to her had just passed away.

“Mrs. Spangler,” he said softly, so as not to frighten her. “It’s your neighbor Judah Byler.”

She jerked up. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.”

He assumed she wondered what he was doing out at two in the morning... just as he wondered about her. “Are you all right?”

Pushing her hair away from her face, she laughed darkly. “Nothing’s right anymore. My husband and I...” Her voice trailed off.

There had been occasional rumors about the woman’s family situation, but Judah rarely paid much attention to the doings of fancy folk. “Sorry to hear it,” he replied.

As if encouraged by his words, Carole told of her separation. “I should probably hire an attorney to protect everything I’ve brought into this marriage,” she ended bitterly.

Judah’s toes curled inside his work boots. Was this what happened when two people grew apart – the world’s way of describing a broken heart? Hearing the woman pour out her sorrows, he could only think of his poor Lettie, slumbering under another man’s roof, alone and comfortless. All that way she’d come, and look what he’d done – made her nearly an outcast!

Standing with his hands on the walking stick, and heartsick at the reminder of where things stood between him and Lettie even now, Judah worried about what to say to his distraught neighbor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Byler. You... you must be walking off your own problems,” she said suddenly, looking up at him. Her right hand grasped the steering wheel. “This has been absolutely selfish of me.”

“Not to worry,” he mumbled.

“You go ahead,” she told him. “Your family will wonder what’s become of you.” She glanced up the road. “Or would you like a ride home?”

“Not necessary,” he replied, even though if Martin Puckett or another male driver had offered, he would have taken him up on it for certain; he was that drained. “Mighty kind of you to offer, Mrs. Spangler. Mighty kind.” Adjusting his hat, he thought he must seem distracted. Did he?
Like during Lettie’s attempts to make conversation with me...

Slowly he made his way toward home, with only so much strength left to kick himself.
When Lettie needed me most, I walked away. I walked right down the stairs and out to the barn the night she left!

The years of emotional distance weighed on him like the heavy ax he’d used to sever the kudzu vines.

When he arrived at the turnoff to his driveway, Judah paused to draw a breath. He saw a dim light coming from the sewing room on Jakob’s side of the house.
Adah must be up, too.

Needing more rest than the forty winks he’d already gotten, he plodded around toward the back of the house. And he would’ve stumbled right over his own son had he not been looking down. “Ach, Adam, is that you?”

The lad had been muttering into his arms, his head bowed. Startled, he looked up, the whites of his eyes nearly all that could be seen of his face. “Dat?”

“You all right, son?”

Adam straightened from his waist up. “It’s my girl,” he said guardedly. “She heard that Mamma’s home but... well, she ain’t
really
, ya know. Guess one of Preacher Josiah’s older boys told it around.”

Judah cringed, certain Lettie’s past sin would see the light of day all too soon. “Did you keep what ya know of your Mamma’s situation private?” he asked quickly.

“Wouldn’t think of spreadin’
that
.” Adam stared at the barn and sighed loudly. “Sure would hate to see Mamma livin’ over at the preacher’s place permanently.”

“She won’t be there for long,” Judah blurted, knowing he’d do whatever he could to bring her back straightaway. As soon as it was daylight, even.

“Prissy’ll be relieved at that,” Adam said, then caught himself. “Puh, I mean...”

“No, no... ’tis all right.” Judah would keep that in confidence.

“Denki” was all Adam said, but with a great sigh of relief, as though he knew his courting secret was safe with his father.

Well, well... Susannah Stahl’s daughter,
thought Judah,
reaching for the door to let himself in.

While Grace was down scrubbing the kitchen floor Wednesday morning, she heard Dat take the horse and buggy lickety-split out to the road. She dropped her sponge in the bucket of hot, sudsy water and went outside. “Where’s Dat goin’ in such a big hurry?” she asked Adam, who was coming back from the springhouse.

“To fetch Mamma.” Adam wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

“Des
gut
!” Grace could hardly stand still.

“Dat urged us to show mercy when she arrives,” Adam said, his eyes serious.

“We’ll welcome her home, all right!” She turned and ran to the house to tell Mandy. “Mamma’s comin’ home!” she told her sister when she found her upstairs redding up. “Oh, Mandy, this is ever so wonderful-
gut
!”

Mandy’s eyes popped open. “Are ya sure?”

“Adam just said so.”

Mandy sat on her bed, then fell back onto the pillows. “It’ll be so nice to have her home again.”

Just then Grace thought of their parents’ bedroom. “Ach, I best look and see how Dat left things.” She darted down the hall to check on the bed and see if he’d picked up his dirty socks, which he wasn’t known to do. She made a sweep with her eyes from the doorway. The space was spotless – bed made, clothes picked up.
Jah, Mamma is definitely returning today!

Grace headed downstairs, where she heard Sally Smucker visiting with Mammi Adah across the hall. She hurried to see if she might be on her way to see Heather, as well, and found that she was indeed. “Heather will be so glad,” she said, having interrupted Sally and Mammi Adah’s tea. “But where are your little ones?”

“Your mother’s with them, back at the house.” Sally set her teaspoon down.

Sally must’ve just missed Dat. She doesn’t know Mamma’s coming home....

Oh, but Grace could scarcely stand there and be still, not with Mamma soon on her way. Glancing again at Mammi Adah, Grace doubted her grandmother had any idea of her father’s plan, either.

Sally sipped her warm tea while the pair discussed the jam making they wanted to do. Grace looked over at Dawdi Jakob, who sat in the corner of the kitchen, observing the songbirds he loved.
Like Mamma...

Did her grandfather sense a change in the wind?
Like the shifting of a tide...
She’d once read in a library book that some folk who’d lived by the sea for many years were uncannily sensitive to the changing of the tides, able to feel the split second when the cadenced washing of the waves reversed direction. Inland dwellers said it was impossible to feel the rhythm of the tides change, but lovers of the sea knew. Perhaps, like them, Dawdi Jakob could tell something was coming... even now.

Grace went back to the kitchen and set to work on the floor again, all the while waiting for Dat to bring Mamma home for good.

Judah hardly noticed the stray chickens on the road as he turned into Preacher Josiah’s lane. Two other gray buggies were parked in the side yard, minus the horses, so he pulled in behind them and tied his own horse to the fence. He figured he wouldn’t be long enough that his horse would need water or feed.

Taking off his straw hat, he mopped his face with his old kerchief, then put his hat back on and pushed his handkerchief into his pocket.
The bishop and the other preacher sure are here early.
He recognized both buggies and guessed Deacon Amos had gotten a ride with one of them.

At the back door, he raised his hand to knock, but as he peered through the screen, he realized the main house was empty. The sound of voices came from the small back porch around the side, and he followed the walkway to the former residence of Sally’s grandparents, now gone to Glory.

Children’s voices wafted from within the cottage-like Dawdi Haus, although Lettie was sitting outside on the porch with the brethren.
Must be Sally’s children,
he assumed, noticing now that Josiah’s family buggy was missing.

Deacon Amos fluttered his hand at Judah, signaling for him to wait right there. Respectfully, he backed away, but not before he saw Lettie’s red and puffy eyes.

In the field to the north, two of Josiah’s uncles and several nephews were making hay – a mighty good day for it. He considered going to lend a hand to occupy himself but then decided against it, wondering if Lettie might not want to talk over the ministers’ decision later.

Several grackles flew toward the backyard feeder, where they pecked at the grains of corn, then flitted back into the sky, toward a grove of distant trees. It crossed his mind that he hoped Lettie’s bird feeders were all filled at home. Surely, Grace would see to it – she and Yonnie. He smiled whenever he thought of the well-mannered lad. The fellow was just so likeable. And it looked as if Grace might be warming to Yonnie, too. After all, it was mighty clear he’d taken a real shine to her.

Walking to the barnyard, Judah thought of all the many chores he ought to be doing. But, no, he wouldn’t permit himself to think that way today. No longer was his work more important than Lettie. He would remind himself daily, if that’s what it took. He wasn’t ever going to lose her again!

At last, he heard the ministers coming near, talking amongst themselves as they fetched their horses from the stable. Instead of offering to help hitch up the horses for the bishop, deacon, and older preacher, Judah made a beeline back to his wife.

She’d already gone inside when he walked up the few porch steps. He could hear her talking softly to the preacher’s children, and through the door, he watched her lightly touch their little blond heads, running her hand over their necks and shoulders. “Your Mamma will be here soon,” he heard her say, her voice raspy from crying.

Then, when he could stand it no longer, he lightly tapped on the screen door and announced himself. “Lettie... it’s Judah.”

Her eyebrows rose and her face broke into a sweet smile. “Oh... I’m so glad you’re here.”

She had one of the little girls in her arms, carrying her about as the child whimpered for her mother. Lettie hurried to the cupboard and gave her a graham cracker to nibble on. “There, there, honey-girl. This’ll make ya feel better.”

Food always does.
He smiled and glanced out the back window, where the bishop and the deacon were getting into the same buggy, talking a blue streak
.

“Would ya care for something to drink?” Lettie asked, getting the little one settled in the playpen again with her sister.

“Just cold water,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her.

Lettie went to the sink and ran the water, her fingers under the tap. “Can we talk ’bout the ruling the ministers made?” She carried the glass of cold water to him.

“’Tis
gut
they came,” he replied. “I was here last night, Lettie... hope I didn’t wake ya,” he told her. “Wanted to see you... apologize.”

Her lower lip quivered. “Aw, Judah.”

“I wish I’d stayed after we talked Monday. I shouldn’t have run off like that.” He took a drink, then set the glass down. “Seems I’ve made a bad habit of that in recent years, and I’m sorry.”

They sat on the worn sofa, facing each other. Lettie told him what the ministers had decided, calling her situation a special case. “They said if I choose to reveal my sins to the church, I won’t be shunned. If not, then I’ll be shunned for six weeks. After that time the bishop would welcome me back as a voting member once again.”

He studied her eyes, the way her delicate brows framed the blue of them. Such pain she’d always carried there, and now he knew why. “What will you do, Lettie?” he asked.

“When I first spoke with Preacher Josiah, I told him I was willing to be shunned, not knowin’ I could avoid it by revealin’ my sins.” Her words lodged in her throat. “But now, knowin’ this... I’ll most likely tell everything before the membership. Not to avoid the Bann, mind you, but so that I might feel free of my transgressions once and for all. And, too, I feel almost like I’ve already been shunned... by my own doin’, too. Bein’ gone so long and all.”

Judah sensed she was willing to do whatever it took. He thought of pointing out the possible drawbacks to her but decided against it. After all, Lettie was the one who yearned to be free of her guilt. Who was he to say she couldn’t reveal to the membership the sins of her youth, just so they might spare the family’s name?

“Are ya praying ’bout this?” he asked.

“Ever so much.”

“Then so be it.”

For the first time ever, he helped her get a toddler down for a morning nap, then set up the other little Smucker girl with some blocks. Then, together, he and Lettie went to sit at the kitchen table, where he reached for her hand. “I’ll help see ya through what’s ahead.”

Tears ran down her face. “Oh, Judah.”

“I mean it... from here on out.”

BOOK: The Telling
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