Chapter 25
Joanna had already noted that Jacob wasn’t at the service when all of the single men filed in.
At first she assumed Adam had stayed home too, with Ike and Becky.
But then he came in late. She had a clear view of the row of single men.
There was enough room on the end of the bench for Jacob, more than enough if Adam scooted closer to Tim.
Joanna glanced down the single women’s row. Veronica was missing.
Daniel cleared his throat. “Jacob Byer and Miriam Troyer are publishing their October wedding.”
Joanna froze. Miriam? Not Veronica? What was going on? She grew clammy, even in the sweltering shed. Jacob and Miriam hadn’t even been dating, let alone courting, and they were marrying in three months?
None of it made sense. Why hadn’t Mandy warned her?
Joanna felt eyes on her. Lots of eyes.
“Let’s pray for the couple that God would bless them and that we would play our part in guiding them.”
Why did Daniel seem so happy? He knew Jacob had just dumped her. Joanna’s vision began to blur. She would not cry. She could not cry.
Why hadn’t she stayed home today? She should have volunteered to sit with Ike and Becky. She would have if she’d known Adam was coming to church.
“Let’s close in prayer,” Daniel said.
Should Joanna slip out before anyone approached her?
She needed to keep busy. To keep moving.
She needed to avoid everyone’s questions.
And opinions. But if she bolted out of the shed before Daniel ended the prayer, people would take notice.
If she bolted after the prayer, people would notice that too.
Mandy, sitting in the row of young married women in front of Joanna, turned and flashed a wild look. Joanna didn’t respond. She stared straight ahead. Maybe Mandy hadn’t known in advance her sister was going to marry Jacob. Could that be?
Daniel ended the prayer, and the congregation began to stir. Joanna forced herself to move slowly. She stood. She smiled at Mandy. She stepped into the aisle. She glanced back at Daniel, who was now being interrogated by Dat. Joanna suppressed a groan.
The back row of congregants began filing out of the shed. Joanna shifted toward the aisle, hoping no one would speak to her. Someone took her arm. Mammi Lu. “Come with me.”
Mammi Lu directed her around those who had spilled out into the aisle, and Joanna followed her grandmother’s lead. How could she have been such a fool to trust Jacob a second time?
She fought back tears again.
“Lu!” Elaine came toward them with an envelope in her hand. “Would you give this to Becky? That will save me having to put it in the mail.” She, the grandmother of the bride-to-be, grinned foolishly at the grandmother of the jilted. Jilted Joanna.
“Jah.” Mammi Lu took the letter from Elaine and quickly propelled Joanna forward.
They reached the door. Tim caught her eye and gave her a worried nod. No doubt Adam was close-by. Instead of heading toward the house and the kitchen door, Mammi swung toward the stables. And then Adam was beside Joanna. “I’ll take you home.”
Joanna whispered, “Denki.”
“I’ll go too.” Mammi Lu turned. “Tim, would you let Nehemiah know Joanna and I went with Adam? Nehemiah should eat and come whenever he’s ready in my buggy.”
“Jah, I’ll do that,” Tim answered.
Joanna waited by Mammi Lu on the other side of the barn.
In no time, Adam came along in his buggy.
He stopped, jumped down, helped Mammi Lu in first and then Joanna.
No one spoke on the way home. Joanna felt as if her already-broken heart had been jackhammered into a thousand pieces.
It felt like the most violent demolition ever.
Jacob had betrayed her. And Miriam had sat with her at Becky’s table a week ago and hadn’t said a word.
The entire Troyer family seemed complicit.
How could she possibly get through the next three months?
The thing with this breakup was one minute she felt fine about it—positive, in fact, as if she’d escaped a burning building.
Jacob was not the right man for her. And then the next moment she felt devastated all over again, as if a burning building had collapsed on top of her. This was one of those moments.
Maybe she should go to Maine with her father. Maybe she’d been too prideful about her job. Too prideful about her relationship with Jacob. Too dependent on Mammi Lu instead of on her family. Too eager to avoid the chaos of her brothers.
They turned down the drive. The first book the librarian at Joanna’s first library had recommended was Anne of Green Gables. At the sight of Mammi Lu’s house, Joanna thought of a line from the book: The best of it all was the coming home. She felt that way all the time, but especially today.
As Adam set the brake on the buggy, he pulled something from under the seat. A book—Persuasion. She took it with a whispered “Denki.”
He said, “I’m going to get dinner going for Dawdi and Mammi. I’ll stop back by later in the day.”
Joanna tried to say “Denki” again but a little gasp came out of her mouth instead.
Joanna waited on the porch, expecting Adam to stop by, but he hadn’t by late afternoon.
At five, Dat finally turned down the lane in Mammi Lu’s buggy.
Even though he’d grown up across the county, Dat knew practically everyone in Mammi Lu’s district from when he was courting Mamm, visiting his in-laws, and attending auctions and mud sales.
Besides being naturally gregarious, he believed in connections, partly for how those people might be a resource for him in the future.
Joanna imagined he’d talked with as many old friends as possible during the meal and then followed someone home to look at a cow or a crop or a new barn, perhaps to get an idea of something he could do on his own farm.
She doubted he’d spent any time with his parents.
In fact, she’d always felt he found Dawdi Hiram and Mammi Rhoda boring, even when they lived across the road. Maybe especially then.
After he took care of the horse, he sauntered toward the porch. “Excellent teaching today, don’t you think? And the meal was good too. I went over to Daniel and Elaine’s afterward to see their new shed. Have you seen it?”
Joanna nodded. “What did you say to Daniel after the service?”
“He mentioned his shed earlier. I asked if I could stop by and take a look. I’m hoping to build a new one in Maine.” Had Dat even noticed Daniel’s announcement that Jacob and Miriam were getting married?
“Was anyone else at Daniel and Elaine’s when you stopped by?”
“Nee.” He paused a moment. “Daniel agrees with me that you should go back to Maine.”
“What exactly did Daniel and you talk about?”
Dat shrugged. “Not much. Just that this is a difficult time for you. It would be easier if you were in Maine.”
Easier? Easier for Daniel and Elaine? Joanna stood. “I’m going to go take a nap,” she said. “I’ll put out a snack when I get up.”
She didn’t sleep—instead she sat in her chair and stared out the window looking into the woods. It would be easier to go to Maine. She’d never have to see Jacob or Miriam again.
But she wouldn’t have a job that she loved. She’d most likely end up going from one brother’s house to another’s through the years to tend nieces and nephews and help her sisters-in-law with their sewing, gardening, canning, cooking, and cleaning. She’d be die aldi Maydel Aenti. She shuddered.
To distract herself she picked up Persuasion and began reading it. She wouldn’t read a novel in the rest of the house on Sunday, and she certainly wouldn’t read one in front of Dat, but she didn’t think God minded.
The book was, as Adam had said, a second chances story.
But it was also about a community and its expectations and the demands of families and fathers—all things Joanna dealt with too, along with gossip.
There were also people in authority desperately trying to persuade younger people to follow their selfish advice. That resonated with her too.
The character Anne impressed Joanna—she was composed, on the outside, and also of good character, both goals Joanna had for herself.
In the first six chapters that she’d read, there wasn’t much about Captain Wentworth, so she didn’t have an opinion about him yet.
After an hour, she put down the book, feeling more settled.
She went downstairs and put out a snack for supper. Dat was on the porch reading his Bible. She let him know the food was ready and sat in the other chair. “May I ask you a question?”
He closed his Bible. “Of course.”
“Does Mamm know you asked Mammi Lu for money?”
“Jah. She sent me.”
That surprised Joanna. “I have another question. Why are you staying here instead of at Mammi Rhoda and Dawdi Hiram’s?”
“Because you’re here.” When Joanna didn’t respond, he added, “And there’s something extra hospitable about Luanna. She’s always been good to me. I’ve always felt as if I belong when I’m around her.”
That was something Joanna did understand, something—maybe the only thing—she and her father had in common. “What if Mammi Lu needs her money soon?”
He put his Bible on the table. “We’ll take care of her.”
“In Maine?”
He nodded. “What if she doesn’t want to go to Maine?”
“She’ll have to, at some point.”
Especially if Joanna moved. No one would be left to help Mammi Lu in Lancaster County.
The next morning Joanna arrived early at the warehouse and looked for another letter first thing—and found it on the counter where the previous three had been.
What if it was from someone who’d known all along that Jacob and Miriam had gotten back together and felt obligated to “comfort” her before she found out?
She pulled the letter from the envelope.
Dear Joanna,