He nodded his head and removed his hat and coat. “I don’t suppose you have any coffee still warm.”
“I can make you some.”
“I don’t want you to do all that,” he said.
But how could she not? He was the bishop. “It’s no trouble at all.” She led him through the dining room, where Peter was still coloring, and into the kitchen. Maybe she shouldn’t have walked him past her grandson. After all, Peter was one of the ones that got away. He and Jamie had converted to the Mennonite church so that Jamie and Leah could be married right away. Once they realized that the one thing Peter needed most in order to heal was a stable, loving home, they knew they had to provide him with one as quickly as possible.
Eunice figured some of the doctrines also struck with Jamie but it wasn’t something the two of them ever talked about. Leah hadn’t joined the Amish church before she left for the English world and landed with the Mennonites, and she wasn’t traditionally shunned. Eunice was certain that Amos wasn’t happy that she had managed to drag two more of his members with her, but again, it was something they just didn’t talk about.
“What brings you out on a night like tonight?” That was the question she asked, when she already knew the answer. A woman could hope. And pray. And she had prayed a lot that something would happen that would allow Tillie and baby Emmy to stay there with the community. Yet she knew. Rules were rules, and the Amish had a very strict and strong set of them. Still Eunice hoped that maybe there was something they had overlooked. Wishful thinking. That was all.
“We need to talk about Tillie.”
She nodded, poured him a cup of coffee, and gestured toward the container of cranberry bread on the table. “Would you like a piece?” she asked. “We try to make it every Christmas.” She was babbling and needed to stop.
“Where’s Abner?” Amos asked.
“In his workshop.” He seemed to spend most of his time there these days, working on a late Christmas order. At least she hoped that was the real reason for him to be there, and it wasn’t that he was avoiding them all and what was to come.
“I think he needs to be here for this.”
Eunice popped back up and went to the dining room, where Peter still sat. “I need you to run to the barn and get your dawdi.”
He looked up from his drawing. “You want me to run?” he asked. “Like really fast or just sort of fast?”
She hid her smile at his so-serious question. “Sort of fast is fine. Just tell him that the bishop is here.”
Peter nodded, dropped his crayon, and headed for the door.
Eunice returned to the kitchen, where Amos Raber waited. “He should be here in a minute,” she said. And she sat down on the bench side across from him.
Amos shot her a tight smile.
Eunice tried to return it. “Are you sure I can’t get you a piece of cranberry bread?” she asked. “It’s got pecans.” Perhaps that was the dumbest thing she had ever said to the bishop. Maybe to anybody. But the air seemed thick and heavy with what was to come.
Amos drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “No. Danki.”
Where was Abner? Perhaps she should have told Peter to run really fast instead.
Eunice jumped to her feet. “Can I warm up your coffee?” She already had the pot and was pouring it into his cup before he could even answer.
Where was Abner?
She almost wilted with relief when she heard the front door open and close. Peter’s running footsteps mixed with Abner’s steady ones, and a moment later he appeared in the kitchen.
“Amos,” her husband said by way of greeting.
The bishop stood, reached out a hand to shake.
“I’ll get you some coffee,” Eunice said. She grabbed another mug and poured her husband a cup. He sat down next to the bishop, and she eased back to the bench across from them.
“I suppose you know why I’m here,” Amos started.
Abner nodded. That was her husband, a man of few words.
“Tillie and the baby,” Eunice said.
“I’ve been patient,” Amos started. “And I’ve tried to be fair. But some things . . .”
He didn’t have to say the words for Eunice to know what he was talking about. The rules were the rules. Explicitly spelled out in the Ordnung or not, they had to be followed.
“I know it’s Christmastime,” Amos continued. “But after . . .”
“I understand,” Abner said with a firm nod.
Eunice understood too, but she didn’t like it. “When?” she asked.
“Tuesday at the latest. I’ll give you Christmas and second Christmas, but any longer and I’m afraid it will start to affect the district as a whole. And your own standing with the church.”
It was a nice way of saying that if Tillie stayed she would be shunned, and her family would be as well. It would affect them all, from Libby and Mammi all the way over to Jim and Anna just across the way. Hannah and Aaron, David, Gracie and Matthew, and everyone in between.
Tuesday. They had until Tuesday and Tillie would have to go back to wherever it was she had gone in the first place. Eunice hoped against hope that perhaps she could stay in Pontotoc, but even then, Eunice wouldn’t be able to have much contact with her. That was all a part of it. The thought broke her heart. She had lost her daughter for good.
At least they would have this one last Christmas.
* * *
“Did you have a good time?” Leah asked on the way home.
“Not really,” Tillie said truthfully. But it was no matter.
