Christmas Gift for Rose (9780310336822) (11 page)

Elizabeth bit her lip. “I can’t do that. I can’t give it to you.”

“Yes, you can. This is not a game. It’s been a long day and I’m tired … so very tired.”

“Rose, I’m telling the truth. I can’t give you the letter.”

“And why not?”

“Because … I took it by the Fishers’ place a few days ago. I told them it was from you. They seem pleased and they told me to tell you they expected Jonathan back any day now, in time for Christmas.”

“You didn’t … He’s coming back?” Rose didn’t know which part of Elizabeth’s words she should focus on.

“Yes.” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe he’s here already and has read it by now.”

“And do you think that’s helping things? Can’t I be in
charge of anything? Maybe it would be best if I leave this family. Maybe it’s God’s way of kicking me out the door to find my real parents.”

Elizabeth’s arms dropped to her side. A puzzled expression came over her face. “Rose, what are you talking about?”

Rose jutted out her chin. “If you read the letter, then you know that I’m not Amish. You know the secret, the one Mem was trying so hard to hide.”

Tears tumbled from Elizabeth’s eyes, and she covered her face with her hands. “Ne. It didn’t say anything like that. You just wrote that he was special—different but special—and you loved him, and you’d find your way together. I was trying to help … I …” Elizabeth lowered her hands. “You’re lying, Rose, that you’re not my sister. Yer just trying to get back at me, even though I’m just trying to help.”

Rose released a shuddering breath and wrapped her arms around her sister. But instead of settling into her arms, Elizabeth pulled back. She studied Rose’s face. “Wait … you
are Englisch
?”

A lump filled Rose’s throat, and she didn’t know what to say. Elizabeth didn’t ask for the whole story. She just continued to stare.

“I’m sorry.” Elizabeth finally muttered sheepishly, as if she were talking to a schoolmate, not her sister.

“I don’t blame you. You were just trying to help.” Rose reached for her sister’s hand and squeezed. “And yer right, I haven’t been very brave lately. I’m still getting used to the truth myself.”

Elizabeth cocked her head. “Do the little kids know?”

“
Ne.
And I’m dreading the day we’ll have to tell them.”

“Does Jonathan know?” Elizabeth asked.

“Ja.”

Elizabeth climbed into bed and pulled the covers up, tucking into herself like a small child who was about to get disciplined. “Are you gonna leave?”

Rose shrugged. She didn’t know what to say. “We can talk about it more tomorrow. I think we just both need to get some rest.”

As though tending to her younger siblings, Rose tucked the blanket under Elizabeth’s chin, even though she was nearly a woman, and walked to the door.

“It’s sort of like
Heidi
,” Elizabeth said in a sad murmur.

Rose didn’t ask what she meant by that, but she knew it was true. Living one place and being drawn to another. The only thing was Heidi knew she needed to get back to her mountains, but Rose had no idea where her path would lead.

J
ONATHAN SAT AT THE SMALL CAFE IN
C
HARM
, O
HIO.
He’d sat here each day for the last few weeks, talking with the locals. There were a few older families who’d known Stan and Betty Williams fifteen years prior. He’d chatted with most of them, but no one had heard much from the
Englisch
family after they left.

One woman—a schoolteacher in Berlin—knew of the couple. She’d been the first one who’d opened up. She’d even driven him to Charm that first day in her car. She’d also said that her friend had been the midwife for both Rose’s and Daisy’s births. The midwife had been out of town, but now she’d returned. Jonathan prayed he’d find answers. This was his last hope.

He wanted to give this gift to Rose. More than anything he wanted to be the one who helped heal her heart. He’d been staying with a cousin in Charm, but recently he’d returned to Berlin to check on his parents and to look over their finances at the end of the year, since they always counted on him for that. That’s when he found Rose’s letter waiting. His heartbeat quickened even now.
She wanted to try to forge ahead and create a future with him. The least he could do was attempt to bring some solace into her past.

He tapped his fingers on the yellow Formica tabletop and then stood when he saw an older Amish woman entering. She leaned heavily on her cane. Her gray hair was pulled tight at the center part.

“I
DELIVERED THOSE GIRLS AND EVEN THOUGH
I’
M
Amish and Betty was
Englisch
, she became my best friend. She was such a beautiful, creative soul,” the woman confessed to him over a cup of coffee and pie.

“Did you hear from her after they moved?”

“Around once a year, usually around Christmas. And then there was one year … there were so many letters. At least one a week. Betty was worried about Rose. She feared something had happened to her. I wrote to reassure her. The Yoders lived in Berlin then. They’d moved not many months after frail, blonde Rose became a part of their family. Even though Berlin seems like a world away from Charm, I made sure to keep track of the family. A few people in Charm talked about the way she was abandoned—those things do create a buzz at first—but soon it just became part of life. I don’t believe the secret followed them when they left, and in our minds we felt it was better to just keep the matter to ourselves.”

Jonathan nodded. “And after that?”

“After a while Betty seemed content yet. She had peace over her decision. I’m not sure if it was something I’d said
in my letters that reassured her, or maybe my prayers helped even more.”

The woman reached down and pulled something out of her pocket. “Every year Betty sent me a letter. They stopped for a number of years, and I was worried. But this note explains what happened.” The woman smiled. “If you notice the return address is in Columbus—not far from here. There’s no number to call, but maybe you can call information? I have an
Englisch
neighbor with a phone. I’m sure she can help you with that.”

Jonathan wanted to leap from his seat. Instead he reached over and patted the woman’s hand. “Thank you … thank you so much. I have to say you’ve jest given me the best Christmas gift ever.”

“I hope it turns out well—your plan, that is.” The woman smiled.

Jonathan had only three more days to make his dreams—Rose’s unspoken wish—come true before Christmas.

M
EM DIDN’T THINK ANYTHING OF ROSE ASKING TO TAKE
the buggy. She drove it to the school to read from the book
Heidi.
As Rose sat on the stool in front of the children, their curious gazes pierced her. She supposed she’d stare, too, if she saw a grown woman tearing up as she read a book. But the tears couldn’t be held back as she read the familiar words:

“‘Where is the child?’” Rose read. “Heidi was fetched, and as she walked up to him to say, ‘Good morning,’ he
looked inquiringly into her face and said, ‘Well, what do you say to this, little one?’

“Heidi looked at him in perplexity.”

“‘Why, you don’t know anything about it, I see,’ laughed Herr Sesemann. ‘You are going home today, going at once.’”

“‘Home,’ murmured Heidi in a low voice, turning pale; she was so overcome that for a moment or two she could hardly breathe.”

Rose thought of those words as she finished up with the class, and she realized she couldn’t wait until after Christmas after all to talk to Curtis. Why wait? Why continue to live with the questions … the ache of the heart? She thought about the words from the book all the way to Hummel’s Grocery. If Curtis was who she thought he was, she would find
home
today—or at least part of it.

Rose stamped her feet to keep them warm as she waited for Mrs. Miller to open the front door of her grocery after taking off time for lunch. The shop was a few minutes late opening … not that it mattered. For so long, during the war, it seemed like all they did was wait. Wait for news to trickle down to their community like a slow-moving stream. Wait for the items they needed to fill the store shelves.

Being pacifists, the war didn’t change the Amish community much. Men worked at the jobs they’d always worked—at least most did. Mothers cared for children and for their home. Children went to school and did the evening chores.

Yet everything had been different too.

Banners with gold stars hung in the windows of some
Englisch
homes. The banners meant that a son had died in the war. The
Englisch
grief at times turned into anger against those in her Amish community.

“To say you’re against the war is to say you’re against my son,”
Mrs. Miller had declared to Dat one warm, summer afternoon, the same day they’d heard about the American landing at Normandy.
“How can you live in peace when we’re sacrificing everything?”

Live in peace?
Is that really how the world saw things?
Ja
, their Amish sons didn’t fight—well, at least not most of them—but what Rose carried inside didn’t feel peaceful at all. Sometimes the hardest war was the one unknown to others, fought in one’s own soul.

Finally, Mrs. Miller strode to the front and opened the door. Even though a cold wind blew down the back of her neck, Rose stood just outside the door and watched Curtis hauling two large crates, filled with canned goods, from the back. He set them down in one of the aisles and then pulled his kerchief out of his pants pocket, wiping his brow.

Seeing him, she didn’t know how everyone couldn’t see the resemblance—or how she had missed it before. He had the same light hair, fair skin, and a splattering of freckles across his nose. And their eyes … When she looked into Curtis’s eyes she saw the same milky-blue color that she’d noticed in her reflection in her hand mirror at home.

Unable to stand still anymore, Rose tucked her hands into her coat pockets and strode in his direction. He was
squatted down, carefully lining up rows of green beans on the shelf.

Hearing her footsteps, he glanced up and his eyes lit up. “Rose!”

“Can we talk?”

“Do you need me to find something? Maybe on one of the shelves? Or …” He cocked his head. “Maybe you already found something, Rose? Something you’d like to talk to me about?”

“Ja.”
She nodded. “I was thinking we’d talk about more personal things, Curtis. Like our family.”

He straightened then, standing over her by at least six inches. Yet by the look on his face it seemed he was a little boy who’d just been caught sneaking a cookie.

“You could have told me … weeks ago. You should have said you were my brother and whatnot.”

Curtis’s lips pressed into a taut line. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t apologize. Instead he simply nodded once. “I just had my lunch break, but I can see if Mrs. Miller can cover for me … since it’s an emergency.”

“Please, would you?” She covered her mouth with her hand. Her fingers were trembling. “I’d appreciate that. I can meet you at the cafe next door.”

She turned and strode out the door, trying not to run.
Why didn’t I ask more? Why didn’t I ask him what he remembers?
Did Curtis have any idea that what happened then impacted so much now? She might never get married. She’d be
maidel
forever.

“He didn’t deny he was my brother,” Rose mumbled to herself as she made her way down the sidewalk. It was strange to realize that what she was looking for had been right in front of her the whole time. What answers would he give? And was it possible that this first reunion would lead to many more?

I
T ONLY TOOK A FEW MINUTES FOR
C
URTIS TO JOIN
Rose at the Country Cafe next door. They sat in a back booth. A couple of Amish womenfolk enjoying bowls of soup glared at Rose. Most likely because of her connection with Jonathan and his serving in the military. And now to be seen in public with an
Englisch
man …
“The shame of it
,
”
she imagined them thinking.

One of those popular, upbeat songs on the radio ended with the announcer’s excited voice talking about the Nazi doctors put on trial in Nuremberg, Germany. Rose knew a radio announcer wouldn’t be needed for everyone in her community to know she’d had lunch with an
Englisch
man. Rose guessed Dat, Mem, and everyone up and down their country road would know by supper, since these women knew her parents well.

She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table and giving Curtis her full attention. Who cared what those women thought? When the truth of who she really was came out, this lunch would seem like a small thing.

“I s’pose I should apologize.” Curtis fiddled with the napkin on the table. “I wanted to tell you, but you seemed so happy. I wasn’t sure if you knew.”

“I didn’t know. Not until recently. It was very much a surprise,” she said. “I have to say, though, that my parents—my Amish parents—gave me a
gut
home.”

Curtis lowered his head. His finger traced a mar on the tabletop, and she could tell that he’d wished he could have done more to help his parents from having to let her go.

“Can you tell me about it … what you remember?” Her words caught as she spoke them.

“I remember that day. It was cold, real cold, but nothing as chilling as my mother’s wailings as the train carried us away from Ohio. We’d gotten to somewhere in Nevada when she woke up with a start one night and started running down the aisle of the train. I’ll never forget her wailing as long as I live. ‘Rose, Rose.’ Dad chased her, but she didn’t want to listen when he reminded her of where she—where you—were. And why they left you. Mama was quiet the rest of the way after that. Her face was ashen gray, the same color as the coat she wore. The same color as the morning they found little Daisy gone.

“When we got to California, things got worse instead of better. It seemed as if she thought of you—cared for you—even more than she wished to care for us. Then, one day, everything changed. I heard Mama singing—just under her breath. I felt all warm inside hearing it, even though our little house was so cold. Dad asked her about it later. I think he was afraid to at the time, and Mama said that she’d had a dream. You were older and beautiful, happy and healthy, running through the fields behind the Yoder house. She
was so happy watching you, and as you ran over a ridge she turned and realized that someone was standing beside her. It was a man with gentle eyes and a happy smile. He said that you were going to have a good life. He told Mama you would be all right.”

Rose studied Curtis’s face, unsure if she understood what he was telling her. Questions throbbed in her head, and her thick wool coat captured her heartbeat.

“She missed you, Rose. Christmas was always the hardest time for years to come. But whenever she talked to you she said that you were ‘under Jesus’s eye.’ If I heard that phrase one time, I heard it one hundred.”

A tingling sensation moved down Rose’s neck, into her chest, and her breathing became labored, as if the air had grown as thick as chocolate pudding. What did that mean? She lived a Plain, normal life. Rose had neither exceptional beauty nor any specific talent. She had no intentions to do anything grand with her life. Her greatest dream was marrying Jonathan and having a family of her own. If Jesus’s eye was on her, He certainly had to be disappointed.

Rose fidgeted slightly, and Curtis ordered two cups of coffee and two of the daily specials before continuing.

“Dad found work in Alameda, working for the telephone company—setting poles, of all things. Things got better, eventually.”

“Can you tell me about something else? About Daisy.”

“
Ja
. She died just shy of her second birthday. She was never well, couldn’t gain weight. Wherever Mama went in
Charm, ladies said Daisy looked like a little china doll, mostly because she just sat in her stroller so quiet and still, unlike us boys, who never stopped running.”

“It’s so sad that our mother lost … both girls.”

He nodded. “Mama went into a dark place after Daisy died. And then you got sick, Rose. You were in a mighty bad spot. I’d watch you all the time, sure you’d be gone next. Mama couldn’t deal with it. That’s when the nightmares came. She dreamt that she went to Daisy’s grave and when she looked down at the headstone it was your name on it. It was Dad who suggested that they leave you with the Yoders. They were much better off than us. Our parents knew you’d be cared for … that you’d no doubt soon have your health back.”

“But why didn’t they just ask? Why did they leave me that way?”

Curtis shrugged. “Shame, I suppose. No one likes to feel he or she failed their family …”

Rose released a soft sigh, wondering what she’d do, thankful they cared enough to sacrifice their hearts.

“Mama wrote many letters back to Charm—to a friend she knew—and the news was all the same: you were fine. She read them over dinner, and the peace came again after that. Mama decided she didn’t want to disrupt you. She turned to God and even had two more children—twin boys, Bobby and Rodney.