“You too,” Tillie murmured.
“You wanted to talk about furniture?” Leah asked. “Baby furniture?”
Mims cast a hesitant look toward Tillie, then answered. “My brother has some furniture.” Tillie knew the exact moment when Leah realized who she was talking to. A change came over her sister, not good or bad—she just held herself differently.
“I’m so sorry,” Leah replied.
Mims nodded. “I just didn’t know if maybe someone could use the things, and I wanted to make sure that it got to the person who might need them the most.”
“I don’t normally trade furniture, but if you would like you can put it in the store on consignment. I’ll keep a small portion and help you sell it and get it out of the house, if that’s something that you need, and I’ll keep it until it sells.”
“I was thinking more of a donation to a person,” Mims said. “There’s a beautiful changing table and a crib.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Leah said. “We have a small staff here, and we communicate well. We could put a tag on it and try to sell it. That way if somebody needs it and they can afford to buy it, they can. But if somebody has a need for it and can’t purchase it, then we will add it into the exchange. When they’re finished using it, they can bring it back for a second round. Or pass it on. You know, pay it forward.”
Leah, with all her brashness and sassy attitude, never ceased to amaze Tillie with her generosity.
Mims visibly relaxed. Tillie knew right away that she liked the idea. “That sounds great. I’ll talk to my brother about it.” Then she turned to Tillie and held out two tiny dresses and an impossibly small prayer kapp. “I found these back there. I thought you might could use them.” Then she turned to Leah. “I didn’t leave baby clothes, but I left a couple of dresses of mine that have gotten a bit snug.” She tugged at her trim waistline. Where she put a couple of extra pounds Tillie had no idea. At this rate she never thought she would get rid of the bulging belly she still carried. It was another thing no one told you: after you have the baby you still look like you are going to have a baby. For much longer than any woman wants to.
“Danki,” Tillie said, and told herself not to cry. It seemed Levi had a sister much like her own. Mims could be just as sassy and bossy as Leah, but they both had hearts as big as everything.
Mims turned back to Leah. “I’ll let you know,” she said.
Leah smiled and gave a small nod. “I’m looking forward to it.”
With a small wave, Mims turned and made her way into the back of the store, to the back door where she had entered before.
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Leah said.
“I don’t want to take these dresses,” Tillie said. It wasn’t that baby Emmy couldn’t use them. They were poor, but not destitute. She didn’t want to take from someone who might need them more than she.
“She came out of the back room with those,” Leah said. “Before she knew you were here. She came here looking for something for your baby. I say you keep them. No, I insist.”
“Danki,” Tillie said. “Though if Melvin doesn’t come . . .” She didn’t finish that sentence. If Melvin didn’t come, then she surely wouldn’t stay, and if she didn’t stay, Emmy would not need the dresses after all.
“Consider it a beacon of hope,” Leah said.
Tillie ran her fingers over the fabric and let out a rueful chuckle. “Beacon of hope. Got it.”
“Are you ready to call now?” Leah asked.
“Jah, I suppose. As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Once again Leah nodded toward the phone.
Tillie’s palms grew damp as she walked toward it. There was a stool behind the little desk where the phone sat. She supposed she could sit there if her knees got weak. Got weak? They were already trembling like a sapling in the wind.
How could one phone call hold her entire fate? The decision of one man decided where she lived and even how she lived. It didn’t seem fair, and yet those were the rules.
“There’s always room at my church,” Leah said softly.
Tillie sat on the stool and smiled at her sister. She knew what Leah meant. There was always an answer. It might not be the answer you wanted, but there was always an answer.
She took the slip of paper from her pocket, the one where she had written down the number to the garage where Melvin worked. She picked up the phone and dialed. Her mouth went dry, and her hands trembled like her legs as she waited for someone to pick up on the other end. Three long rings later, someone finally did.
“Garage,” the man barked. Behind him she could hear the clank of metal against metal and the whirring of the different machines.
“I’m looking for Melvin Yoder,” she said, her voice small and hesitant.
“What? I can’t hear you. Can you speak up?”
Tillie cleared her throat. “I said, I’m looking for Melvin Yoder.”
“He’s not here today,” the man hollered back.
Tillie wondered just how loud it was in the garage. No wonder Melvin liked peace and quiet when he got home. A person would think he would want to watch TV all night since he’d been denied it his entire life, but he would rather sit and read the paper with no sound other than the ticking of the clock and the running of appliances.
Of course he wasn’t there. “Can I leave a message?”
“Hold on, let me get a pen.” The phone clanged as if he had dropped the receiver on the desk or table. He hollered something to someone around him.
Tillie could feel Leah watching her. What she really was going to tell Melvin that he had a baby over a telephone message, not even directly? It seemed a bit heartless, but
