Melvin took a sip of his coffee and a bite of the cranberry bread before answering. “I know.”
“It’s getting late,” Mamm said.
As if to prove her words, the front door opened and closed. The sound of footsteps grew near. Dat. He looked into the kitchen and saw them. He let out a guttural sound that Tillie knew was a mixture of disgust and disappointment, then he made his way down the hall. He was going to bed. One other thing was clear: Melvin had stopped by the barn before he had come to the house. Tillie wondered if he had asked for permission to approach them. Her dat must’ve given it, for Melvin was seated at the table and her father didn’t say a word. He wasn’t much of a talker, but even he would break his silence for something as big as the return of Melvin Yoder.
Tillie picked up her coffee mug and stood, only then realizing that she hadn’t taken even one drink of the brew.
“Good night,” she said, dipping low to kiss her mamm on the cheek. Childish as it was, that was one of the things she missed most when she left home, saying good night to her mother. She only had a couple more days, and then she would miss it again.
She barely cast a glance at Melvin, then she made her way to her room. She didn’t know what to say. There was almost too much to say. Too many ideas and questions that went in three different directions. Most important to her was the one that had him staying, marrying her, and living Amish. It would take care of their transgressions. Almost wipe them clean. Almost. But she would get to raise her daughter Amish. Not in the hard English world.
But do you want to be married to Melvin for the rest of your life?
There was a time when she had. A time when that was all she thought about. And maybe with time she would feel that way again. But somehow when she thought about marrying Melvin, it was Levi who popped into her head. She thought that the English had a word for it when a person fell in love with their rescuer. She didn’t know what it was called, but surely that’s what she was experiencing. And it seemed as if Levi might be experiencing something similar.
She sighed and undressed, then pulled on her nightgown. The floor was cold, and she hurried to the bed, jumping into the covers. Then she sat up and looked over into the cradle where Emmy was resting. She was warm and toasty, wrapped in pink fleece and sleeping peacefully for the time being. In a couple of hours she would be ready for a feed. And Tillie would check to see if Melvin was still awake. If he was, she would let him hold her, meet his daughter truly for the first time. The thought clenched her heart and made her stomach feel like it had fallen to her toes. She would have to explain why she didn’t call him right after she had the baby. Or even right after the roads had gotten clear enough for her to go home. But any excuse was just that: an excuse.
She watched the rise and fall of Emmy’s breath for a moment and lay down on her side, still facing the cradle. Could she do it? Could she go out into the English world alone with the baby to care for? Would she be able to get her job back? What would she do if she couldn’t? And the biggest question of all: where would she live? So many pressures. Too many.
She raised up and turned off the lantern. The room went dark. But the questions still remained.
* * *
“I can’t believe how tiny she is,” Melvin said the next morning as he held his daughter for the first time. He had been asleep when she had woken for her midnight feeding, and Tillie was loathe to wake him. Truth be known, it had more to do with all the questions she knew he was going to ask once he held Emmy. Tillie really wanted a little sleep before she got to all those. So she fed Emmy and placed her back into her cradle to hopefully finish the night.
Emmy was a good baby and slept a long while at a time. Four hours was her maximum. Getting up at four o’clock wasn’t too bad for Tillie. She had grown up Amish. The thing she hated was that it was dark outside, and it seemed to be forever before the sun rose. She and Gracie used to sit on the back porch and watch the colors in the sky changing from black to orange to pink and then gold and finally the beautiful blue.
“Her eyes are blue,” Melvin said in awe.
“All babies have blue eyes,” Tillie said.
“I hope they stay that color.”
She supposed that would be beautiful. Emmy had already started to favor her father, especially if she kept his blue eyes and the dark hair she was born with.
Tillie knew that most of it would fall out and grow back. The question was, would it grow back dark blond or Melvin’s raven-wing black? They would just have to wait and see. On the eyes too.
“Melvin, we have to talk soon.”
He looked from Emmy to her, his expression one of love that changed to remorse.
“I know. But not now. Maybe later.” It was Christmas Eve, and later there would be a lot of family ruckus as usual in a household their size.
It seemed as if Melvin dreaded working through their many problems as much as she did. Ignoring them wouldn’t make them go away, but he didn’t want to talk about such matters on Christmas Eve. Or Christmas Day. She couldn’t blame him.
“We have church tomorrow,” Tillie said. Christmas Day on church Sunday. It was a rare
