The Amish Nanny (3 page)

“Thank you,
Mamm
,” I whispered, my eyes brimming with fresh tears. I blinked them away.

Eyes twinkling, she nodded as I released her hand and then she stepped away, crossing to the fence and letting herself into the pasture. Watching her clutch her skirt as she moved through the grass, a huge grin began to spread across my face.

Oregon
. Could it really be true? I couldn't wait to talk to Ella, to share this incredible excitement swelling inside my chest.

After my mother disappeared around the far side of the barn in the distance, I strode to the fence, climbed up onto the bottom rail, and called out to a nearby cow.

“I've never even been out of Lancaster County!” I told her loudly.

In response she merely bit off a fresh clump of grass and began to chew.

“Well?” I asked, crossing my arms. “What do you think of that? Little ol' me, going to Oregon!” Then I laughed, fully aware I was talking to a cow. “Never mind.”

Jumping down from the fence, I decided to go check on
Mammi
and deliver her invitation as well. Before I even reached the garden, however, my cell phone rang. It was Ella.

“Ada!” she shrieked. “Can you believe it? We're going to Lexie's wedding!”

Four weeks later

L
exie was a beautiful bride. Her white gown had little cap sleeves, which was modest, I knew, for an
Englischer
's wedding dress, but it looked a little like a summer nightgown to me. While Ella and I sat side by side on the bed and watched, one of Lexie's friends fixed her hair, artfully piling blond curls atop her head and pinning them in place along with her veil. Once they were finished, Lexie stood and spun around. We all cheered, Ella's elbows bumping mine as we clapped.

The first time I met Lexie last spring, I thought she was beautiful. Later, she and I stood in front of a mirror, side by side, and I'd been surprised to realize that we looked a lot alike. Same blond hair. Same brown eyes. Same tilt to our noses. That didn't make much sense, for I knew I was merely average while she was stunning. Perhaps it was her glow, her vibrancy, that set her apart. Either way, today she was positively radiant, and even more beautiful than I had ever seen her before.

“Breathtaking,” Sophie pronounced from her perch on a stool in a corner. As one of Lexie's closest friends, Sophie had declined the request to be a bridesmaid as well, insisting she was far too old. Instead, she had been serving as a sort of fill-in mother of the bride, something needed here, given that neither of Lexie's parents were still alive to share this day. Her mom had been dead for many years, but her father had passed only six months ago, and I knew his absence was being sorely felt by Lexie—and by everyone else who had known him.

“You look like a princess,” Ella gushed at Lexie as she completed her spin.

“Thanks, cuz,” Lexie replied, giving Ella a wink and a loving pat on the knee before returning to the mirror for a final touch-up on her makeup.

I glanced at Ella in time to see her looking down at her own outfit and then over at mine. I could tell she was feeling quite dowdy by comparison, as though Lexie were Cinderella at the ball and we were the scullery maids. Ella and I were dressed Plain, of course, in white
kapps
and aprons over dark brown dresses. Being Mennonite, Ella could have worn a print but opted to match me instead, although with her auburn hair, ivory skin, and lively eyes she was far prettier. At least we both fit in with the wedding's color scheme and with the other two bridesmaids, who wore the same brown color, though in dresses far more stylish and made of a silky, shiny material. At weddings back home, the bride and her side sitters would all have dresses out of the same fabric, usually blue or purple. But this was an
Englisch
wedding, which meant attendants in coordinated colors and a white gown for the bride.

A soft rap interrupted us, followed by a voice asking, “Lexie? Are you ready? The guests are seated.” The door opened and Mrs. Glick, who had to be older than
Mammi
, stuck her head inside. Looking at her, I realized that even she, with her simple calico dress, looked more stylish than Ella and I. At the sight of Lexie in her gown and veil, Mrs. Glick's face broke into a broad smile. “Oh, you look lovely, my dear. Just lovely.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Glick,” Lexie replied, standing up straight and smoothing out the skirt of her gown. “Everybody ready?”

We all stood, adjusting our skirts as well. Lexie thanked the two bridesmaids for their help with her hair and makeup and then flashed Sophie a grateful smile, no doubt for all the many ways she'd been helping out as well, not to mention her quiet, calming presence. Finally, Lexie turned to Ella and me and opened up her arms. We stepped into them for a hug, careful not to pull the back of her veil or crush the lines of her dress.

“Have I told you how much it means to me that you guys came all this way?” she asked.

We laughed. She'd told us multiple times since we'd arrived five days before. When we pulled apart, her eyes were full.

“Don't cry!” Ella said. “You'll ruin your makeup.”

Lexie shook her head, blinking away her tears as Sophie turned toward the tray on the dresser and began handing out the flowers we would all carry—tiny bouquets of pink roses trimmed with white, pink, and brown ribbons. Lexie's bouquet was a bigger, fancier version of ours, with added greenery, baby's breath, and extra ribbons woven among the flowers. We didn't use flowers like this in our weddings back home, but I thought it made a nice touch here.

“They have started the music,” Mrs. Glick told us from the doorway.

“You lead the way,” Sophie instructed the older woman, who started down the hall to the stairs. Sophie followed, and after her went the two bridesmaids and then Ella.

I started toward the door next, but Lexie grabbed my hand and squeezed it, hard. I turned toward her and gave her a final hug, and then with tears stinging my eyes headed through the hall and down the stairs. As I went, I couldn't help wondering what my life would have been like if my family had kept Lexie and given me up for adoption to the Jaegers instead. I probably would have gone to college, and though I wouldn't have become a nurse-midwife, I could have become a teacher. By now I would probably have a classroom in an
Englisch
school. Perhaps, even, I'd be the one wearing the Cinderella dress, ready to unite with my own Prince Charming.

I shook my head as I paused at the back door and watched Ella start down the aisle between the folding chairs in the yard. It was wrong to covet. God had given Lexie the life He'd chosen for her and given me the life He wanted for me. I would be grateful for what I had been given and trust that He knew what was best for each of us.

When Ella was halfway toward the front, I started down the back steps just as we had practiced, careful to hold on to the rail. I didn't recognize the music coming out of the portable sound system in the back, but it was slow and soothing and pretty. Zed, with a goofy grin on his face and his blond bangs hanging low over his eyes, already stood at the front with the three other attendants and James. They all looked handsome in matching black tuxedos and dark-brown “cummerbunds,” a term Ella had been using with authority, having picked it up from her bridal magazine. I was so pleased James had included Zed in the wedding party. He was a great kid and Lexie's cousin, but James hardly knew him except from the short time he'd spent in Pennsylvania earlier this year, when he'd come out to join Lexie. Including Zed here now was a nice gesture, one that made me appreciate James's sweet heart all the more.

The guests, mostly older, smiled in encouragement as I made my way toward the front. Before I got there, I knew the groom had spotted his bride waiting in the back for her turn, because his eyes grew wide, his lips curving into a tender smile.

I took my place beside Ella. Then the guests all stood and turned to watch as Lexie started down the aisle, her veil flowing out behind her on the gentle breeze. Her gown hung flawlessly as she walked, her carriage regal and tall. She came alone, her gaze fixed on James, her eyes filled with love. Still, something about her expression seemed almost melancholy, and I knew she was missing her late father now more than ever.

Suddenly, a breeze caught the spokes of the windmill high above our heads and sent it twirling. Lexie looked up, and it seemed a gasp caught in her throat as she froze in place. Watching the windmill spin, a beautiful smile illuminated her features. When finally she began moving forward again, gaze once more on her groom, I realized her sadness seemed gone. In its place was the joyous expression of one fully at peace, almost as if the windmill had signaled a greeting from heaven itself, a blessing on this special day.

When Lexie reached us, I took her bouquet and she joined hands with James. Facing each other as the pastor began to speak, it was as if they disappeared into another world, lost to the rest of us. I sighed inside. Would I ever experience that kind of love? Not from Will Gundy, that was certain. Not now that he was courting Leah. At least I would have my teaching. That was where I'd find my calling.

After all, what other choice did I have?

The service was short and sweet, not like the weddings back home that went on for hours and hours. There were no stories from the Bible here about Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Rachel. No songs from the
Ausbund
lasting twenty minutes each. Instead, the pastor simply read from 1 Corinthians 13 and spoke about love and submission, including submitting to each other and making sacrifices in marriage. After that, he led the couple in exchanging vows, and then he declared James and Lexie husband and wife.

“Now you may kiss the bride,” he added, grinning.

I blushed at the sight of their enthusiastic kiss. At our weddings, there was nothing like that in the service itself—though it would not be unusual to see the couple stealing a kiss or two later as the day went on.

Another song began, this one louder and faster than the one we had walked in to. Clasping hands, James and Lexie moved back down the aisle, grinning widely at each other and at their assembled guests. After a beat I took the arm of the best man and we followed, with the other members of the bridal party also pairing up and coming along behind us. Except for Zed, James's attendants were all married, so once we reached the back of the crowd, we reshuffled a bit so husbands and wives were together. Then we headed for the orchard to take some pictures.

I had discussed with Lexie the fact that I was uncomfortable having my photograph taken, but she had convinced me to participate in just one shot as a favor to her: a picture of the two of us. Now, posing in the shade of the graceful hazelnut trees, Lexie and I stood together arm in arm, laughing even as we were trying not to cry.

As I stood there with my sister, waiting for the photographer to take our picture, my heart began to soar with such a joy I could barely contain it. Lexie and I may have spent the first part of our lives far apart and unaware that the other even existed, but once we had found each other, the bond we had formed was instant and deep. God had blessed us in abundance, and I knew that neither my sister nor I would ever take each other or our relationship for granted.

After the photo had been taken, I hugged Lexie before excusing myself to go help in the kitchen. There I found Sophie and the other women from the church carrying out stacks of plates to the long table in the yard, so I jumped in as well. On one trip I glanced over toward the orchard to see that Zed had something in his hand—more than likely Ella's cell phone—and he was using it to film the various attendants as they continued to pose in different groupings for the pictures. Zed was obsessed with moviemaking and had been driving Ella and me crazy with his nonstop filming since the trip had begun. I could only hope he wasn't in the way out there among Lexie and James and their friends.

The other women and I continued to put out food and see to all the details of the reception. As we worked I couldn't help but compare how much simpler this was than the way we did things back home. For weddings, the norm there was three hundred guests or more, with two full meals being served, both lunch and dinner. By comparison, this one meal for Lexie's eighty wedding guests seemed an easy task indeed.

The next time I emerged from the kitchen, I noticed the members of the wedding party wandering back from the orchard, and it looked as if everyone except for the bride and groom had finished with their part of the photo-taking. Ella was walking with purpose toward the house, no doubt so that she could go inside and tend to the wedding cake. A gifted baker even at sixteen, Ella had been obsessed with this cake for days, decorating it in secret and not allowing any of us see it in its finished form.