Chapter 11
11
Saturday morning, Moses sat at a picnic table at the Byler’s Corner Market and read the last circle letter from Teresa. He hadn’t received a response from Jane to his letter, but it was probably too early to expect one.
He read Teresa’s introduction from her last letter. She’d written,
Another thing we can learn from birds is to let our colors shine. As Plain people, you may be asking, What colors? Stay with me on this one. We might dress alike in clothes made from the same bolts of fabric, and we’ve been taught our entire lives not to be prideful, but each of us has a colorful inner life, unique to us and the way Gott made us. Don’t be afraid to let your inner light shine. You can be honest about who you are and your gifts without being prideful.
Moses had finally grown into his body, but for years he’d felt like a freak. As if there were something inherently wrong with him, perhaps even dangerous, being so tall. Being called Goliath hadn’t helped, although he’d certainly forgiven Lois for that. He wished he’d heard Teresa’s advice when he was small—er, young.
He’d write a birding report to the group about another recent trip to the Delaware shore after he went through the rest of his mail. As he thumbed through the stack, he realized he did have a letter from Jane in a small envelope, wedged into the seam of a large manila envelope. He’d missed it the first time he’d gone through the mail. He quickly opened the envelope, read the letter—which was short—and read it again. No, she wasn’t married or courting.
He paused. How would Sara feel about him writing to Jane?
Moses put the thought aside and kept reading. Jane wrote about seeing a Cooper’s hawk, one of his favorite birds. Her account of the hawk confirmed it had been a good idea to propose corresponding with her. He kept reading. She wanted to correspond with him too. He envisioned Jane being in her twenties—not her fifties. He scooted thoughts of Sara out of his mind again and smiled at the good news from Jane. Then he read her letter again.
He hadn’t thought about his letters needing a Delaware postmark in addition to the Delaware return address. If he didn’t drive to Delaware to mail the letters early in the week instead of waiting until Friday or Saturday, the envelopes wouldn’t have a Delaware postmark. If he did wait, he’d always be a week behind. If he mailed the letters from Lancaster County, someone might notice. If it was only occasionally, perhaps no one would think anything of it. The only solution was to mail the letters on Saturdays—or drive to Delaware on Monday or Tuesday. Thankfully, he enjoyed driving, and the ninety-minute trip always passed quickly.
He drafted the letters, printing so people could actually read his penmanship. In the circle letter, he wrote about birding at Bombay Hook, on the western shore of Delaware Bay, detailing the wading birds, waterfowl, and shorebirds he’d seen. He wrote to Jane, saying he was happy to hear from her and that she wanted to correspond. Then he wrote about observing a downy woodpecker’s futile efforts to drill a hole into a treated telephone pole.
Once he’d finished, Moses walked across the street to The Country Store and deposited the letters in the old-fashioned mailbox that sat just inside the door. Then he returned to the market and bought a card and a box of chocolates for his mother.
When he was little, Moses and his family celebrated Mother’s Day with a picnic at Paradise Park, along with other families, both Amish and Englisch. They’d eat sandwiches Dat and he made, along with carrot and celery sticks and chocolate cupcakes. Then they’d spend time along the run, birding. When they started home in the buggy, Mamm would always say, “Each day with my family is the best day of my life.”
He thought about that as he parked his SUV in front of the Green Hills Care Center after church. He wished he could give Mamm more best days of her life.
“Ready?” He glanced at Sara and then opened his door.
“Jah.” She hesitated but then opened her door too.
It was the first time Sara had come with him to visit Mamm. He couldn’t imagine Sara really wanted to spend time visiting an Alzheimer’s patient, but it did seem she wanted to spend more time with him.
Moses grabbed his satchel and then hurried around to hold Sara’s door. When they reached the entrance, Moses opened the door. Sara smiled at him and walked in. He quickly stepped to her side and then pointed to the hall to the left. “Mamm’s down this corridor.”
When they entered the room, Mamm was sitting at the window in a chair watching a yellow warbler in the new bird feeder Moses had installed. Softly, Moses said, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mamm.”
She turned toward him with a smile on her face, but then it fell. “Where’s Lois?”
It had been a mistake to bring Sara, but he returned his mother’s smile and said, “Do you remember Sara Fisher? She wanted to visit with you today too.”
“Sara.” Mamm pursed her lips together. “Have I met you before?”
“Jah,” Sara answered. “Several times, but it’s been a few years since I’ve seen you. I went to school with Moses.” She stepped close and took Mamm’s hand.
“And Lois?”
Sara nodded. “We were all in school together.”
Moses opened his satchel and pulled out the card and box of chocolates he’d brought.
Her eyes lit up as he handed them to her. “For me?”
“Jah, for you.”
She fumbled with the envelope. Moses opened it for her and pulled out the card. She handed it to him to read.
“To my mother...” He choked up a little as he read the card. By the time he finished, Mamm had her nose up against the window.
Without looking at him, Mamm said, “Paul, remember the robin that used to build a nest on our porch year after year, and how protective Mamm was of it?”
Sara gave Moses a questioning look and whispered, “Who is Paul?”
He whispered back, “Her little brother.” In a normal voice, he said, “Tell me about it.”
“Mamm always had a heart for the little ones—and little birds.” Mamm opened the box of chocolates.
“Don’t let her eat too many,” Sara whispered.
Moses ignored her.
Mamm ate one. And then another.
“Your wife certainly was tall for a woman.” Mamm’s eyes clouded.
“My wife?”
“Jah. Faith.”
Moses had never heard anything about Paul’s wife. In fact, he didn’t even know Paul had been married.
“I felt badly about the way our parents treated you after you and Faith married. You hadn’t joined the church yet. They didn’t need to shun you.” Mamm sighed and then stood. “I need to go feed the chickens.”
Moses quickly said, “I already did that. You should rest.”
Mamm stared at him a moment and then her eyes brightened. “You’re tall like Faith’s brother. He was over six-five.”
Moses tilted his head. She wasn’t making sense. And he shouldn’t try to make it make sense. Mamm talked nonsense sometimes and often went from thinking he was Paul to knowing he was her son. There was no way his height came from Faith’s family. Somewhere in Mamm or Dat’s families—or maybe both—there was a gene for height. It had skipped a couple of generations was all. He’d gotten the golden hair gene too.
The next morning Moses arrived at the shop at seven and holed up in his office, turning his attention to his work. Since he had the property line sorted out and the dimensions for the market building, he needed to sift through his plans and then apply for his Paradise Township zoning permit, which he could do online. On Friday he’d spoken with a councilman, who wasn’t as enthusiastic as Moses had hoped. Then later at the grocery store, Bishop Stephen’s father had approached him with concerns about a market.
Moses had listened to Amos intently, not surprised by his concerns. More tourists. More traffic. More distractions. When Amos finished, Moses said he’d take all of those issues into consideration. And he would. But he didn’t plan on changing his mind. Instead, he hoped to come up with a plan to alleviate Amos’s concerns and the concerns of others too. Somehow, he hoped to make the market worthwhile to all of them, Amish and Englisch alike. And Mennonite. He knew people had been talking behind his back, dishing dirt about him since he’d sold Dat’s farms and hadn’t joined the church. He couldn’t stop the talk, but he hoped he could still help his community.
After he jotted down more ideas and then organized all his plans, he opened the Paradise Township site, downloaded the form, and then began filling in the needed information. He heard someone come through the back door at eight. Much too early for Evelyn. He stood and opened the office door. Someone was in the storeroom. He waited. Lois stepped out carrying a box with several paper flowers and tubes of paper and a large bumblebee.
“I’m going to change the window display.”
“But it’s your day off.”
She shrugged. “I did it on my day off for Barb and Scotty.”
He hesitated. He remembered Sara had said she’d do it, but not when.
“Is there a problem?” Lois asked.
“No.” Moses motioned toward the front of the shop. “Have at it.”
Lois continued on, bumping his arm with the box as she passed by. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
He returned to his office. A half hour later, his door slowly opened. Then Sara stepped inside. “Hi,” she whispered.
Moses suppressed a groan at her timing as he swiveled toward her. “What’s up?”
“What is Lois doing?”
“About that—I wasn’t sure if you intended to do the window display and if you did, when. I hadn’t told her you planned to, and she came in this morning with everything ready to go.” He leaned toward her. “You can go help her now or do the next one.”
“Oh.” Sara stepped back toward the door. “I’ll go take a closer look.”
She returned a few minutes later. “It’s not bad. How about if I come up with a new one in a few weeks?”
He nodded.
She hesitated.
“Is there something else?” He needed to get payroll done for all his businesses. Plus he heard footsteps in the hall. Could Lois hear their conversation?
“What do you think your mom was talking about yesterday?” Sara asked. “When she said you take after the brother of her sister-in-law?”
“She was confused, is all.”
“But don’t you think it was a weird thing to say?”
Moses shrugged. “Believe me, she’s said weirder. Plus, as far as I know, Uncle Paul never had a wife.”
Sara gave him a funny look.
“What?”
“Do you think you might have been adopted?”
After Sara left, Moses stared at the computer screen for several minutes, completely lost. The permit application was only half completed.
He needed to clear his head. A walk around the property would help. He stepped out the back door into sunshine and warmth. It was going to be a perfect day—weatherwise. Someone called his name. Coming toward him was Isabelle.
Moses groaned inside but smiled on the outside, remembering Teresa’s advice about letting one’s colors shine. “Good morning!” he called out.
“It is a good morning,” she responded a little out of breath. As she grew closer, she said, “I hope you don’t mind if I walk the property in the mornings. Scotty never did. I usually do five or six laps.”
“That’s fine,” Moses said. “Until construction starts.”
“Aah, for the Paradise Amish Market. You know, this Amish market thing might really take off. So much so that you’ll want to concentrate on it and not the shop. I’d prefer to buy just the shop and not the entire property.”
Moses tried to contain his irritation. “I intend to keep the shop.”
She gave him a smile. “Time will tell.” Then she pumped her arms a few times, gave him a wave, and took off walking at a brisk pace.
He certainly didn’t want to follow her—or go the other way and bump into her in a few minutes. Instead he walked around the building to the front. He’d take a look at what Lois had done to the display window.
He stepped around the corner and then stopped in a patch of sunlight. Lois was standing with her hands on her hips, staring at the window display. She took a step closer and then several feet back. She held up her hands like a frame.
“How does it look?” Moses called out.
Lois didn’t turn toward him as she said, “I like it. What do you think?”
He stepped to her side. She’d left the white wrought iron table and two chairs and surrounded them with the paper flowers—daisies, dahlias, and cosmos. All the flowers his mother loved. The bee was suspended by a string. Two fine china cups and a teapot sat on the table. “Nice. It’s very whimsical.” He stole a glance at her as she stared straight ahead, looking rather whimsical herself in a lavender dress and white Kapp and apron with a faraway look in her bright blue eyes. Whimsical and beautiful.
He exhaled slowly.
“Denki,” she answered. “I appreciate the feedback.” Then she said, “It’s such a nice day. I think I’ll go for a long ride on my scooter.”
“Have fun.”
“I will.” She shot him a smile and then took off for the door, most likely to put away the things she’d left in the front of the shop. He took his phone out of his pocket. 9:45 . Evelyn would arrive any minute. He headed for his office—Evelyn was much chattier than Lois. He didn’t have time for that.
When he stepped through the front door, Lois was already gone. He heard the storeroom door close and then the back door. She’d seemed a little nicer. Was it because he’d given her feedback—positive at that? Or was it because she’d overheard Sara ask Moses if he’d been adopted?