Winter of Wishes (2 page)

Rhoda went back outside to grab one of the lighter boxes. Then, once Nate had followed
her in with bags of onions and carrots, and he was chatting with Hannah and Mamma,
she slipped out to the phone shanty before she lost her nerve. Common sense told her
she should think out some answers to whatever questions Andy Leitner might ask, yet
excitement overruled her usual practicality. Chances were good that she’d have to
leave him a voice mail, anyway, so as her fingers danced over the phone number, her
thoughts raced. Never in her life had she considered working in another family’s home,
yet this seemed like the opportunity she’d been hoping for—praying for—of late. Surely
Mamma would understand if—

“Hello?” a male voice said over the phone. He sounded a little groggy.

Rhoda gripped the receiver. It hadn’t occurred to her that while she’d already worked
a couple of hours at the café, most of the world wasn’t out of bed yet. “I—sorry I
called so early, but—”

“Not a problem. Glad for the wake-up call, because it seems I fell back asleep,” he
replied with a soft groan. “How can I help you?”

Rhoda’s imagination ran wild. If this was Andy Leitner, he had a deep, mellow voice.
Even though she’d awakened him and he was running late, he spoke pleasantly. “I, um,
found the notice from an Andy Leitner on the board in Zook’s Market just now, and—”
She closed her eyes, wondering where the words had disappeared to. She had to sound
businesslike, or at least competent, or this man wouldn’t want to talk to her.

“You’re interested in the position?” he asked with a hopeful upturn in his voice.
“I was wondering if the store owners had taken my note down.”

Rhoda’s heart raced. “
Jah
, I’d like to talk to you about it,” she gushed. “But ya should understand right out
that I don’t have a car, on account of how we Amish don’t believe in ownin’—I mean,
I’m not preachin’ at ya, or—”

She winced. “This is comin’ out all wrong. Sorry,” she rasped. “My name’s Rhoda Lantz,
and I’m in Willow Ridge. I sure hope you don’t think I’m too
ferhoodled
to even be considered for the job.”

“Ferhoodled?”
The word rolled melodiously from the receiver and teased at her.

“Crazy mixed-up,” she explained. “Confused, and—well, I’m keepin’ ya from whatever
ya need to be doin’, so—”

“Ah, but you’re a solution to my problem. The answer to a prayer,” he added quietly.
“For that, I have time to listen, Rhoda. I need to make my shift at the hospital,
but could I come by and chat with you when I get off? Say, around two this afternoon?”

Rhoda grinned. “That would be wonderful-
gut
, Mr. Leitner! We’ll be closin’ up at two—my
mamm
runs the Sweet Seasons Bakery Café on the county blacktop. We can talk at a back
table.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then—and thanks so much for calling, Rhoda.”

“
Jah
, for sure and for certain!”

As she placed the receiver back in its cradle, Rhoda held her breath. What would she
tell Mamma? She felt scared and excited and yes,
ferhoodled
, because she now had an interview for a job! She had no idea how to care for that
elderly mother . . . or what if the kids ran her so ragged she got nothing done except
to keep them out of trouble? What if Andy Leitner’s family didn’t like her because
she wore Plain clothing and kapps?

She inhaled to settle herself, and headed back to the café’s kitchen. There was no
going back, no unsaying what she’d said over the phone. No matter what anyone else
thought, she could only move forward.

And wasn’t that exactly what she’d been hoping to do for weeks now?

Andy pulled into the parking lot beside the Sweet Seasons and switched off his ignition.
He’d stopped here a couple of times for a sack of muffins or cinnamon rolls but never
for a sit-down meal. He was always on the run, in a hurry, it seemed. He admired the
work ethic of the mother and daughters he’d seen cooking and waiting on tables, and
he’d noticed how a lot of local folks ate here—which, in small towns like Willow Ridge,
meant the food was excellent and the prices were right.

Rhoda Lantz had sounded like a delightful young woman over the phone, bubbly and cheerful.
That was exactly the sort of caretaker his mom and kids needed.
Oh, don’t lie to yourself
, he thought as he climbed out of the car.
You’re tired of having to be the cook and the maid and the dad and the mom and
—

Andy paused at the door, reminding himself that if he carried his frustrations inside,
he’d frighten Rhoda away. As he stepped into the Sweet Seasons, heavenly aromas of
roasted turkey and stuffing still lingered after the lunch shift. Inhaling deeply,
he gazed around at the sturdy tables and chairs . . . the homey calico curtains at
the glistening windows. Two mature women and a young girl back in the kitchen chattered
happily, wearing aprons over their dresses of deep green and blue, with their hair
tucked up under their head coverings. Another young woman turned from the glass bakery
case near the cash register, where she was taking out pies.

“
Jah
, and how can we help ya today?” she asked as she approached him. “Did ya come for
a bite of lunch? Or would ya just happen to be the Mr. Leitner I jabbered at this
morning?”

Andy couldn’t help himself: for the first time in weeks he was smiling from the top
of his head to the tips of his toes, listening to this young woman’s lilting German
accent. He held out his hand, gazing at her face . . . so fresh and open. Even without
makeup she was remarkably attractive. “And would you be Rhoda? It’s wonderful to meet
you.”

“
Jah
,
jah
, that’s me.” She glanced at the women in the kitchen and lowered her voice as she
steered him toward a back table. “But I’ll tell ya straight out that I haven’t had
the chance to mention this interview to Mamma,” she confessed with a nervous laugh.
“So if she comes back to check on us, she’ll be in for a big surprise.”

Andy pulled out a chair for her and sat down across the table. He wanted to hire her
on first sight—could already see she was exactly the sort of caretaker he’d had in
mind—but he didn’t want to get crossways between mother and daughter, either. “Is
it permissible for a Plain girl to work for me? To watch my kids and—”

“
Jah
, that’s not a problem! It’s just that, well—” Rhoda again glanced toward the kitchen,
her cheeks turning pink. “When I saw your note in Zook’s Market, it was like the sign
I’d been waitin’ for, that I was to move along into something new for myself. What
with my twin sister gettin’ hitched, and my
mamm
marryin’ the new farrier come New Year’s, and Naomi’s girl comin’ to work here, and
all the fellas either treatin’ me like I’m invisible, or—well, never mind about that
part! I’m jabberin’ at ya again.”

Andy studied her face, sensing her hesitation. He didn’t know any Amish folks as friends,
but he respected their faith and didn’t want to get her in trouble with her church
leaders. “Rhoda, if you have reservations about working in a non-Amish home—”

“No, no—that part’s fine and dandy,” she blurted with an apologetic smile. “It’s just
that I’ve not done any caretakin’ before, and—well, here comes my
mamm
, so the cat’s gonna get let out of the bag.”

Andy watched the woman who was approaching from the kitchen, drying her hands on a
towel. She had energy about her, a liveliness he enjoyed before she even opened her
mouth. He stood up, smiling because he couldn’t help it: this was the coziest, friendliest
place he’d been in a long while.

“And what can we feed ya?” she said, her gaze flowing from his face to her daughter’s.
“We’re closed for the day, but we’ve got—”

“Oh no, Mrs. Lantz, it’s not lunch I’ve come for,” he replied. “But, wow, this place
smells just like Thanksgiving dinner! I missed out on all that wonderful food this
year because my mom’s not up to the cooking anymore.”

Rhoda stood up, her expression tight. “Mamma, we’ve been so busy here today—and I
didn’t want to say anything in front of Naomi and Hannah, but—well, I saw a note on
the Zook’s bulletin board, for a job takin’ care of this fella’s
mamm
and his two kids. So I called him about it. This—this is Andy Leitner, from over
around New Haven.”

“And I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lantz,” Andy said.

“Oh, call me Miriam or I sound old enough to be your
mamm
,” she replied with a chuckle. “Except, thanks be to God, I’m healthy and happy and
able to cook those turkeys you’re smellin’. Real sorry to hear your mother’s not doin’
so well. Puts a damper on everything.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, immediately sensing this woman’s compassion. “Mom had a
stroke a while back, and while the therapy is helping, she still doesn’t have full
use of her right hand and arm. She’s home when the kids get out of school, but . .
.” How did he explain his situation without sounding like he was pleading for pity?

“The good fairies aren’t showin’ up to cook and clean, so things are lookin’ untidy,”
Miram finished quietly. “And what sort of work do ya do, Mr. Leitner?”

Instinct prodded him to follow her earlier lead. Miriam’s face looked so pleasant
and fresh it was hard to judge her age. She could easily be Rhoda’s older sister,
considering how Amish women were often still having children when their firstborns
got married. “Please, call me Andy,” he insisted, “or you’ll have me feeling old enough
to be your father.”

Their laughter rang around the dining room, a sound that lightened his heart. After
an ICU shift that had drained him, it felt wonderful to be here where their happiness
rejuvenated him. “I’m almost finished with my internship, due to graduate with my
nursing degree at the end of this semester.”

Their eyes widened, but he was used to Midwestern people who still considered nursing
a female occupation. Yet he saw no derision on their smooth, sweet faces.

“What a wonderful gift, to be a healer,” Miriam said with a reverent nod.

“
Jah
, there’s never enough doctors or nurses to go around, especially in farmin’ areas
like Willow Ridge,” Rhoda remarked. “It’s lucky for your
mamm
that ya probably knew what was goin’ wrong when she was havin’ her stroke.”

Andy vividly recalled how he’d found his mother unable to get out of bed, with her
face already gone slack on one side so she couldn’t speak clearly. “Mom’s better now,
but she has a long way to go and . . . well, with the kids in school and me working
shifts, she gets depressed—”

“And ya don’t feel right leavin’ her by herself, wonderin’ what might go wrong.” Miriam’s
face took on a thoughtful glow. “I’ll let you two talk out the details of this job.
Be sure and stop by the kitchen before ya leave, though.”

And what did she mean by that? Andy noted the quickness of Miriam’s step and realized
how long it had been since he’d spent time with a woman who knew her purpose and carried
it out with humor and dignity. Why, even when he and Megan had first been married—

“Well, now.” Rhoda smiled shyly as she took her seat again. “That went better than
I figured. Didn’t mean to catch ya betwixt the two of us kitty-cats—even though Mamma
and I rarely show our claws.”

Andy delighted at her turn of phrase. “That’s one of the reasons I believe you’re
the right person to restore order in my home and to—to care for everyone.” He cleared
his throat, deciding to lay his cards on the table. “I’m divorced, Rhoda. I know your
church frowns on that, so if it’ll cause a problem—or if you or your mother feel uncomfortable
about it, I’ll understand.”

Rhoda studied him, her hands clasped on the table. He saw the eagerness in her blue
eyes, the desire to be helpful and to try a new job despite her inexperience. “When
we lost my
dat
a couple years back,” she said in a low voice, “Mamma and Rachel and I kept goin’
here at the café by doin’ some things the bishop didn’t think was quite right— mostly
because he wanted to marry Mamma himself,” she added wryly.

“I can certainly understand that.”

A sparkle came out to play in Rhoda’s eyes, as though she, her sister, and her mother
had become adept at working around permission issues. “So as long as ya explain how
ya want things done with your kids and your
mamm
, and ya allow for my mistakes—and so long as I’m not alone with ya in situations
that might raise the preachers’ eyebrows,” she added in a purposeful voice, “it won’t
be any different from what a lot of other Plain gals do to earn some income.”

Why did her reply pique his interest in ways it shouldn’t? Andy sat back, reminding
himself that this interview with Rhoda was strictly business. “We need to talk about
your pay. I’ve not hired anyone in this capacity before, so—”

“I don’t have the foggiest notion what other caretakers make,” she admitted. “Truth
be told, I’m not considerin’ this job because I need the money. I just wanna try somethin’
different
, ya know?”

Her refreshing attitude appealed to him. “That’s exactly why I got into nurse’s training
after being a teacher. My wife had just left me, so the timing wasn’t the best,” he
admitted. “But our school in New Haven’s so small, I would’ve been my daughter’s fourth-grade
teacher next year. So—”

Rhoda chuckled. “I wouldn’t have wanted my
dat
for a schoolteacher,” she agreed. “And for you, the lines might’ve blurred between
bein’ a parent and then puttin’ on a whole different hat once ya got to school, dealin’
with everybody else’s kids.”

Oh, but this young woman was a breath of fresh air. Insightful and articulate, too—the
right example for his kids. And Rhoda Lantz wouldn’t be bringing her boyfriend over
to fool around or to help himself to the fridge, as some of their babysitters had
done.

“Tell you what, Rhoda. Maybe the next step should be introducing you to my family.
Letting you look around the house, before we seal the deal,” Andy suggested. “That
way you’ll see what you’re getting into. And if Taylor or Brett or Mom seem uncomfortable
with you—which I can’t imagine—we’ll know it’s not the right thing to do.”

“
Jah
, I can do that!”

Andy suspected there weren’t too many things Rhoda Lantz
couldn’t
do. Her enthusiasm was contagious. “I can take you there now, or—”

“Ah, but then I’m ridin’ in an English fella’s car, with neither of us bein’ married,”
she pointed out. “Best for me to take down your address. I’ll call a driver—”

“But I hate that you’ll have to pay someone to come over.”

Rhoda shrugged. “It’s how we Amish get around . . . unless ya want my horse poopin’
in your yard. Now
that
would be a chore like your kids’ve never had, cleanin’ it up.”

Andy got carried away on a belly laugh like he hadn’t enjoyed for months. “All right,
but I’ll pay for your ride and we’ll work such an allowance into your wage. It’s only
fair.” He took a pen from his jacket pocket and wrote his address on a napkin.

When Rhoda’s gaze wandered toward the café’s kitchen, a secretive grin twitched at
her lips. “How about if I show up around four thirty or five? That’ll give me time
to line up my ride, and you can warn your family about somebody Plain comin’ to look
them over.”

“Hah! It’ll give us time to scramble around and clean things up, so you won’t think
we’re total slobs.” He stood up, extending his hand. “Rhoda, it’s been a pleasure.
See you in a couple hours.”

“
Denki
for givin’ me a chance at this.”

Again her rhythmic way of speaking tickled his ear, and when Andy turned to go he
had another pleasant surprise. Miriam was coming from the kitchen with a large pumpkin
pie in her hands.

“Not the same as a Thanksgiving dinner,” she said, “but I’d like your family to have
it, Andy. God bless ya. Especially your mother as she’s recoverin’ from her stroke.”

His eyes misted over. “What a wonderful gesture,” he murmured, barely able to get
the words out. “And please let me know if my hiring Rhoda, or her hours or traveling
back and forth—or
anything
—doesn’t set right with you, Miriam.”

“
Jah
, I can do that, Andy.” She put the pie in a cardboard box.

Rhoda’s earlier words took on a different tone when her mother spoke them, but all
was still well. As he drove away from the Sweet Seasons with a fragrant pie on the
passenger seat, lilting Amish voices and open smiles replayed in his mind. He had
no doubt that the Lantz women could do anything they decided to, and for the first
time since Megan had walked out on him, Andy felt that he could accomplish wonderful
things, as well.

 

 

“Bye, now—and thanks for makin’ it a real
gut
day, Hannah,” Miriam said as Naomi and her daughter put on their coats. “If you want
to keep workin’ with us, I’m thinkin’ it would be just fine.”

“
Jah
, I’m likin’ it,” the young blonde replied with a smile that resembled Naomi’s. “See
ya tomorrow.”

Miriam waved at Ben Hooley, who was loading equipment into his big horse-drawn farrier’s
wagon. Then she closed the café’s back door against the cold wind. Powdery snow had
blown up against the phone shanty, giving it a bit of sparkle around the edges in
the afternoon’s last rays of sunlight . . . similar to the sparkle on Rhoda’s face
while she’d been talking to Andy Leitner. Miriam decided to tread carefully, for—just
like the surfaces of the ponds hereabouts—the ice was thinner, more fragile, than
it looked.