The Amish Nanny (34 page)

“Giselle was pretty clear it was what she wanted,” Oskar said.

I couldn't imagine why. But if so it would be a goodwill gesture on my part to comply. After our strained phone conversations, I wanted to do whatever I could to encourage a connection. Oskar handed me the key, and Daniel took off toward the staircase with me following. Christy trailed behind us up the stairs and then took her time getting packed. I finally went in and finished up for her, accidently knocking Alice's silver hairbrush to the floor. As I picked it up, Christy stopped what she was doing and turned toward me. I noted tears in her eyes, and then I realized mine were brimming too. I placed the brush back on the dresser and said a silent prayer for both of us—and for Alice too.

When we went back down, Oskar met us at the bottom of the stairs with a flashlight. “Follow the walkway around the side and then veer off on the path to the right,” he said. “Follow it down the hill about one hundred meters. You'll come to a shed and then Giselle's cottage.”

Daniel carried both of our suitcases down the steps and then led the way around the building. Christy held the flashlight, shining the beam over the brick path. Moss lined the sides of the walkway. Tall trees grew here and there, but the grounds, covered with ferns and low shrubs, were more like a park than a forest. The path turned downward gently and then evened out. We were too tired to speak as we walked, and the only noise was the roar of the waterfall in the distance.

Ahead was the outbuilding with a light. By the time we reached the back of it, I was squinting to see the cottage. I heard a rustling in the trees and then the call of some animal. Christy yelped, but Daniel just chuckled and said it was an owl.

“The owls in Lancaster County do not sound like that,” she protested.

Daniel didn't miss a beat, replying, “Guess that's because the owls here speak Swiss German.”

We were so tired that it took a few seconds before either Christy or I laughed.

“There it is,” I said, pointing ahead at another building. It was a quaint structure with a sloped roof. A moment later I was trying to find the keyhole in the weathered door. At first the key wouldn't turn, but I jiggled it around a bit and that did the trick. I pushed, and the door swung open.

The cottage was warm and a light was on. Christy and Daniel followed me inside. He left our suitcases in the hall, and we stepped into a small kitchen with tiny, stainless steel appliances and a window seat tucked into a corner past the small refrigerator. The seat there was more than inviting with its plush cushion and pillows. We came back out of the kitchen and moved on into the living room. The contrast between the charming antiquity of the cottage and the stark modernity of the decor was startling. Every piece of furniture was new. A white couch and chair were arranged around a low glass table. The lamps were silver with white plastic shades. Off to the side was a small table with two black, sleek chairs.

“The room we're to sleep in must be down the hall,” I said. We backtracked. Sure enough, the door to the first room was open and a futon bed was made up inside.

“Here's the bathroom,” Christy said. I stepped out into the hall. She was at the end of it now. “And another room.” She opened the door. “It's a bedroom,” she said.

Most likely Giselle's. “Close the door,” I said. “We don't want to snoop.”

She obeyed and came back toward me. We both thanked Daniel, and then I tried to give him the flashlight to take with him, but he refused. “You might need it,” he said.

I didn't plan to go anywhere until morning, but I kept it just the same.

“Lock the door,” he said as he left, which I did.

I asked Christy if she wanted a snack before bed, and we went to the kitchen to see what Oskar had left for us. We found alpine cheese and yogurt in the refrigerator, apples in a basket on the counter, and hearty rolls in the bread box. There was also muesli for breakfast and a carton of milk. We each had a single slice of the cheese, and then, while she put on her pajamas, I brushed my teeth and washed my face.

Once she was ready for bed, we both knelt and prayed silently. My mind somersaulted from Alice to Giselle, and then from Will to Christy in such a tumble that I was sure my prayers were hardly coherent. I was thankful God knew what was in my heart.

I tucked Christy in and then climbed in beside her. She fell asleep right away, and I tried but only tossed and turned, wondering how Alice was, wondering what time Giselle would arrive, wondering when Will would be leaving for the airport. Finally I got out of bed and pulled from my suitcase the tour book of Switzerland I'd checked out from the library, wanting to check the distance between Frankfurt and Langnau.

I grabbed the extra blanket off the end of the bed and tiptoed out of the room, deciding to settle on the window seat in the kitchen. I opened the guidebook to the map of Europe in the back and found Germany. From the map, it looked as if it would take four or five hours for her to drive from Frankfurt to Langnau, but I couldn't be sure. For all I knew she was taking the train, though whether that would make it a shorter or longer trip, I wasn't sure.

I looked through more of the book, absently flipping the pages and studying the photos. When I could feel my eyes growing heavy, I closed them without even turning off the light. It felt as if the temperature was dropping, and I wondered if perhaps frost was falling. I hoped Giselle would arrive soon.

Those were my last thoughts until I awoke to a woman with short red hair, streaked with gold, staring at me. “Ada?”

I recognized her face. She looked like Lexie—though older, of course.

I blinked, keeping the blanket around my shoulders, my gaze locked on Giselle. Her brown eyes seemed tired, and after a moment she flinched and glanced away. I started to stand, but she held out her hand and said, “Don't get up. We can talk in the morning.” She was speaking in English, as she had when we spoke on the phone.

She turned away from me and walked through the kitchen. She was wearing skinny jeans, and the heels of her fashionable boots clicked across the hardwood floors.

My heart raced. She seemed both familiar and foreign, all at once.

“Wake me in the morning if you're up before I am,” she called out over her shoulder.

Before I could answer the light went off and her footsteps were in the hall and then gone. I sat that way for quite a while. Then, with the blanket still wrapped around me, I headed back toward the office and climbed into bed beside Christy.

The next morning, Tuesday, my young charge was up and dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed when I awoke. Light was streaming through the window, and someone was knocking on the front door of the cottage.

“They have been knocking for a while,” she said. “I didn't know if I should answer it not.”

I groaned. Giselle must have been sleeping too soundly to have heard it. “Go ahead and get it. It's probably Daniel or George.”

Christy came back a minute later. “It was Daniel. He and George are heading to town, and they wanted to know if we'd like a ride to the hospital.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said you weren't dressed yet, but he said they had an appointment and couldn't wait.”

An appointment? For a moment, I wondered if there'd been a new development in our property case, but then I remembered George saying he had errands in town.

“It's just as well,” I told her. “Why don't you have a bowl of cereal while I get myself together. Then we should see about heading down to the hospital. Giselle can take us.”

Christy nodded and started to go, but then she turned back, adding, “Oh, yeah. He also said don't forget to ask her for the letters as soon as she gets up. If we go anywhere, we're supposed to leave them up at the main house with Herr Lauten so Daniel can start reading through them as soon as he gets back.”

I crawled out of bed and took a couple of minutes in the bathroom, brushing my hair and teeth. Then I knocked gently on Giselle's door, but she didn't answer. I turned the knob. She was in bed with a blanket pulled over her head.

I cleared my throat. She stirred. “Good morning,” I said.

Her head popped out from under her pillow. “What time is it?” Makeup was smeared under her eyes.

“Eight thirty. The people we're traveling with have gone off in the rental car. Could you give us a ride to the hospital?”

She yawned and then flopped onto her stomach. “Give me a few.”

Once I was fully dressed and ready for the day, I joined Christy in the kitchen. We heard Giselle turn on the shower in the bathroom. After we washed our dishes, I suggested we look around the outside of the cottage while we waited for her.

My heart raced at the thought of interacting with Giselle in the car. Our brief meeting last night hadn't left me any more hopeful than our phone conversations had.

Christy and I put on our capes and slipped through the front door. A chill hung in the morning air, but it was another clear and bright day in our seemingly endless string of beautiful autumn weather.

Flower beds surrounded the little cottage. It hadn't frosted last night after all. The blooms were fading but were not dead yet—cosmos and dahlias, geraniums and lobelia, impatiens and snapdragons—all the same flowers we had at home.

Christy climbed to a little rise to the right of the cottage. “I can see the waterfall from here!” she called out.

I joined her. A wide creek divided the two properties. The falls themselves were high, the water spilling over them powerful. No doubt the site would make a great place for a hydro plant.

The door to the cottage opened and Giselle came out. She wore a different pair of skinny jeans, a darker shade of denim this time, a black jacket, and boots. Her hair was still damp and wavy around her face. She slid a pair of sunglasses over her eyes as she walked toward us.

I tried to think of something to say, but she looked right past me and zeroed in on Christy. “So you're Alice's great-granddaughter?”

Christy nodded, shyly.

Giselle stepped closer to her. “I knew your
grossmammi
, years ago.” She seemed happy to see Christy, and the thought entered my head that perhaps she was the reason Giselle had asked us to stay at her cottage. “And you are Will's oldest daughter?”

Christy smiled and said yes.

“Well, doesn't that beat all. He used to be nothing more than a little squirt.”

Christy chuckled. I doubted anyone had called Will “little” in her lifetime, much less “squirt.”

Then Giselle looked at me, her smile fading into a vacant stare. “Shall we go see Alice?”

G
iselle drove a black compact car and took the turns down to the village at a speed I thought was much too fast. I glanced at Christy in the backseat several times to make sure she was all right. Her eyes were big but she didn't seem frightened. Giselle wanted to know the details of Alice falling and what the doctor had said. Because Christy was with us, I gave her the short version and then said Will was flying in tonight.

“Really?” she said. “I can't imagine little Will all grown-up.”

“He's not so little anymore,” Christy chirped.

Giselle smiled and glanced into the rearview mirror. “He was younger than you the last time I saw him.”

I quickly did the math. Will would have been around eight years old when she left.

Again, she glanced in the rearview mirror toward Christy. “I'm surprised your
mamm
let you travel all the way to Switzerland at such a young age.”

I glanced quickly at Christy. Her face was frozen. I intervened, explaining that Christy's mother had passed away last winter. Giselle clearly felt bad. “I'm so sorry,” she said to Christy. “You poor thing. And your poor
daed
.”

Again the silence was heavy. I wanted Giselle to ask about
Mammi
. And about my parents and Aunt Marta and even Ella and Zed. I wanted her to ask about Lexie. Mostly I wanted her to ask about me. But she didn't. There was an awkward silence, and I was at a loss as to how to fill it. I had no idea what questions she would be all right with my asking her. Finally, I inquired about her trip to Germany.