Chapter 35
“You’re going to meet up with that woman again?” Daet asked, staring at Tabitha in disbelief.
Tabitha adjusted the straps on Fritz and straightened to look at her father.
“The lawyer contacted me again and repeated Kelsie’s request for one last visit with me. Just one. She said it was important.”
Tabitha had discovered the message from the lawyer when she was checking her voice mail at the phone hut.
She’d thought about it for a few minutes and sent up a prayer for guidance before she called back and said she’d agree to one more meeting.
And she didn’t want to admit that her stomach was now churning with misgiving.
“And you think that’s wise? What could she possibly want?” he asked.
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m going—to find out.” She sighed. “Daet, I’m in a better place now. I’ve forgiven her and Michael, and I’ll only wonder what she wanted. It’s easier to just find out.”
“Tabitha, she might have some sort of grudge,” Daet said. “Maybe I should go with you. You can wait while I get cleaned up.”
“I don’t have time, Daet. And right after my chat with her, I have a veterinarian appointment at another farm. I’ll be fine.”
Daet grumbled as Tabitha hopped up into the buggy, but she knew he meant well. Daet worried about all three of his daughters, and no matter how old they got, he still felt the responsibility of protecting them. He gave her a nod as she flicked the reins and Fritz pulled the buggy around.
“It’ll be fine, Daet,” she called as Fritz took her up the drive toward the road.
What Kelsie wanted, Tabitha had no idea, but this would most certainly be the last time Tabitha met with her. She wasn’t going to play games, and she wasn’t going to draw this out into years of uncomfortable interactions. It was time to move forward, and Tabitha was finally ready to do that.
When Tabitha arrived at the Dutchman Café with her medical bag in hand, Kelsie was already sitting in a booth in the back.
She half rose when she spotted Tabitha and smiled uncertainly.
It would be so much easier if Tabitha could just hate this woman, but she couldn’t.
Not only did Gott forbid it, but there was something about Kelsie that felt so vulnerable and na?ve.
She could see what had drawn Michael to her.
Had Tabitha been the same once upon a time? If she had, she wasn’t anymore.
“Danke, I see my friend has already arrived,” Tabitha told the Amish girl who greeted her in a Dutchman Café apron.
The girl watched curiously as Tabitha made her way around the tables and to the back of the restaurant.
This would be reported back to the girl’s family, no doubt.
Her mother would tell her friends and sisters.
Tabitha’s sister Rose would be the first to drop by for an innocent visit to ply her for information about meeting with an Englischer.
Tabitha gave it about two days. This was how information passed around an Amish community.
She slid into the bench seat opposite Kelsie and settled her bag next to her.
“I ordered you a coffee,” Kelsie said.
A cold cup of coffee was indeed sitting there waiting for her, and Tabitha gave her a weak smile. “Danke.”
“How are you doing?” Kelsie asked.
“I’m . . . pretty busy these days,” Tabitha said. “I had to bring my medical bag with me since I have to be somewhere in about an hour. So I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Oh, right.” Kelsie licked her lips. “I brought something.”
She rustled around in a recycled shopping bag and pulled out a familiar copper teapot. Tabitha’s breath caught, staring at it in disbelief. The teapot! She’d thought it was long gone. She held her hands out for the precious item, her heart pounding.
“You had this?”
“It was . . . something Michael brought with him.”
“Michael? What do you mean?”
Some color touched Kelsie’s cheeks. “At first he said the teapot was his, and since it wasn’t really my style, it went into the back of a cupboard.
Then one day, he told me that it had been yours, but that he’d used it more than you had so he figured he should keep it.
He said he had as much right to it as you did since you’d been married.
And you can’t find copper teapots like this anymore. ”
“I should say not,” Tabitha breathed. “It was my mother’s.”
“I didn’t realize that.”
Tabitha looked the shiny teapot over once more and placed it beside her leather medical bag on the seat next to her. She’d been missing this teapot a lot lately, and getting it back was a miracle.
“I’m sorry,” Kelsie replied. “He didn’t tell me until recently that it was yours.”
“I’m grateful you didn’t throw it away.”
“I tried to,” Kelsie said. “I put it out with the trash, and someone thought I’d made a mistake and put it on my step. That happened twice, and I decided the best way to make sure it actually leaves is to hand it over to you. It’s like the thing is haunted.”
Or Gott had protected it. The thought of this precious family teapot in a garbage can knotted her stomach. But all the same, Tabitha didn’t believe in hauntings.
“This is a family heirloom,” Tabitha said. “My mother got it from her mother. The fact that Michael took it—” She swallowed hard. She’d forgiven him. It wasn’t the time to pick up new resentments. “It was cruel of him.”
“I’m sorry I tried to throw it away,” Kelsie said.
“I wanted to be rid of it. It came with memories for me. Every once in a while, Michael would bring it out and make some tea. He used to reminisce then, and he said that you knew how to brew a cup of tea just the way he liked it, and that Amish women knew how to make a man feel special.”
Tabitha started to laugh. She didn’t mean to, but it was just such a ridiculous statement. From this side of things, she could see exactly what Michael had been doing, and all of her nervous energy seemed to be erupting into laughter.
“What?” Kelsie demanded, eyes snapping with fire.
“He hated my tea, Kelsie!” Tabitha said, wiping her eyes with a napkin. “And I was a middling cook, if that. And if an Amish woman could make a man feel so special, what was he doing fooling around with you?”
Kelsie dropped her gaze.
“I took that teapot from my own home when I married Michael,” Tabitha explained.
“I truly thought he was the man I’d grow old with.
I thought Gott had brought me the love of my life, and I was so upset when my father was less than enthusiastic about him.
In my youthful arrogance, I thought no one understood the depth of our love, and I wouldn’t be dissuaded. ”
A few weeks ago, talking about this would have filled Tabitha with anger and resentment, but today, all that extra emotion seemed to have been drained out. She’d been a different person when she married him—a girl, really.
“As the oldest daughter in my family, I wanted that teapot in my kitchen,” Tabitha went on.
“And when Michael and I split up, I let him pack up his things. But I hadn’t seen that teapot in a few years.
It’s hard to look at family heirlooms that remind you about your hopes for happiness when you aren’t happy.
I guess Michael took it with him. I thought I had misplaced it in our last move. I was blaming myself.”
“I’m glad I gave it back to you, then,” Kelsie said.
As they sat there, Kelsie’s own hopes and dreams still sparkling on her ring finger, Tabitha could see that she’d been hurt too.
“He made you feel insecure with this teapot,” Tabitha said gently. “He made you wonder what I’d offered him that you couldn’t. Am I right?”
Kelsie spun the rings on her finger, and her chin trembled. “I suppose so.”
“That was his game, Kelsie. That’s what he did. Can I give you a piece of advice?”
“All right.” But Kelsie’s expression turned wary.
“Cattle are creatures of habit. On a dairy farm, the cows learn the milking schedule. They will come in at the same time, taking the same path every time, and each go into their own milking stall. We humans aren’t so different.
We’re creatures of habit too. It makes us feel safe.
We’ll repeat patterns out of familiarity, even if those patterns are bad for us. ”
Kelsie dropped her hands to her lap.
“Don’t ever be tricked again into thinking a married man is the man for you,” Tabitha went on earnestly.
“If he’d make his wife miserable, he’ll do the same to you.
If he made her feel insecure and like she wasn’t enough to truly fulfill him, he’ll do the same to you eventually—because it makes him feel safe to be in control. ”
She could give herself the same advice about Jonas.
It didn’t matter that Christina hardly knew him.
It didn’t matter that Tabitha and Jonas shared a connection that she’d never experienced before either.
Jonas was not available, and Tabitha wouldn’t make Kelsie’s mistake.
A heart healed a whole lot more easily when a guilty conscience wasn’t added to the mix.
“He did love me,” Kelsie said.
“And Freya?” Tabitha asked. “Did he love her?”
Kelsie’s chin trembled again. She didn’t answer.
“That’s not love,” Tabitha said. “If you really love someone, you can’t betray them at the same time.
It’s not possible. A man can’t love two women with all his heart.
But he can love himself, and he can genuinely like what those two women do for him.
He can want to hold on to the benefits coming from both.
That’s an entirely different experience, though.
It’s not love. Love is willing to sacrifice. ”
“I’m sorry for what I did to you,” Kelsie said softly. “How are you able to keep your head up like that? I feel stupid and used and ridiculous and . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Michael is gone,” Tabitha said. “I went to his grave the other day, and seeing it did help me a lot. Gott has helped me to let go of that anger, too, and helped me to forgive.”
“I’ll never forgive Freya.” Her voice shook. “I’m not sure I can forgive him either. I just keep getting angrier.”
“You should try,” Tabitha encouraged. “It’ll just eat you up, otherwise. Michael is dead, and we’re both free of him. Maybe I should say all three of us are free of him, because Freya is too. But we each have a choice of who we want to be going forward.”
“I’m not there yet, I guess,” Kelsie said.
Tabitha picked up the teapot and put it on the table between them. “Do you know what this kettle represents in my family?”
“Marriage?”
“Womanhood,” Tabitha said. “And, yes, culturally, my community sees marriage as a rite of passage, but not every woman in my family is married. We all share one thing in common, though. We love our families, and we love Gott. Life can be complicated, and we can make massive mistakes sometimes, but we always come back to the center. I remember my mother sitting at our kitchen table with this teapot there in the middle. And she and one of my aunts or one of my mother’s friends would be pouring a cup of tea and shedding a few tears while a telling a story about heartbreak and regret. ”
Kelsie raised her gaze to meet Tabitha’s.
“Life is hard, Kelsie, and that is why we need Gott. I couldn’t forgive Michael if Gott hadn’t helped me do it. I couldn’t forgive you either, but I have now. Life is too hard to live on your own. We need community. We were born for it.”
Kelsie sucked in a shaky breath. “Well, at least that teapot is going back to where it belongs. If it shows up on my step again, I’m moving.”
Tabitha laughed at her little joke. “That’s fair. But don’t worry, it will be with me.”
Tabitha had the feeling that there would be plenty more times when this old teapot would sit in the center of her table. It would be the holder of tea, a silent witness to secrets, regrets, prayers . . .
Kelsie smiled faintly. “Thanks for meeting up with me.”
“Sure,” Tabitha said. “I really do wish you the best, Kelsie.”
Kelsie picked up her purse and tossed a bill onto the table. “Coffee’s on me.”
“Thank you. That’s kind.”
Tabitha peeked at her pocket watch pinned to her dress. She needed to get going too. There was a farmer waiting. She picked up her bag and tucked the precious teapot under her arm.
“You make it look easy,” Kelsie said. “The moving on.”
“It’s not,” Tabitha replied. “But if you let him, Gott will help you.”
They exchanged a sad smile.
“Well, good-bye,” Kelsie said.
“Good-bye.”
And then Kelsie turned and walked away in her slim-cut jeans and expensive blouse. Would this be the last Tabitha saw of this woman? Tabitha really did hope so—and not because of bitterness either.
Tabitha was ready to put this chapter behind her for good. It was time to move on.