Amish Christmas Joy. Patricia Davids
mother dabbed her tears away with the corner of her apron. “Ja, I did. Welcome to our home, Joy. My name is Maggie, but you can call me Mammi. I’m so happy to meet you.”
“Are you really my grossmammi?”
His mother’s eyes brightened. “So your father has taught you some Pennsylvania Dutch. That’s goot.”
“He didn’t teach me. Leah taught me.”
He caught the worried glance his mother flashed him. “You have spoken with Leah?”
“We met in town.” He looked down at his daughter. “She’s looking forward to having Joy come to her school.”
“Leah is a kind woman. Your brother and his wife are inside. I thought you should know that.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Then it really is a family reunion.”
“I have not told Wayne that you are returning. He doesn’t know about Joy, either.”
“Did you tell Father?”
“Ja.”
Caleb straightened and took Joy by the hand. “Then we should go in.”
His mother nodded and walked quickly back to the house. He followed more slowly. As they reached the door, Wayne blocked their way. A thunderous expression darkened his face. “There is nothing here for you. Go back where you came from.”
“Wayne, please.” Maggie’s gaze darted between her sons.
“Shame on you, Mother. How could you do this to us? Rhonda, David, we are going home.” He stood aside. His wife and son hurried out the door. The boy stared at Caleb with wide, curious eyes. Rhonda didn’t even look. She kept her face down as she rushed past him, one hand covering her scarred cheek. Wayne followed close behind them.
Caleb caught his brother’s arm and pulled him to a stop. He whispered, “Have you told her the truth?”
Wayne pushed him away. “There is nothing to tell. You are not welcome.”
Caleb stepped aside. Joy clung to his leg, hiding her face. He placed a reassuring hand on her head. “Wayne, can we at least be civil to each other? For Mother’s sake if not for our own.”
Wayne stood at the gate as his wife and son climbed in the buggy. “‘Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? And what communion hath light with darkness?’ 2 Corinthians 6:14.”
“I remember the passage.”
“Do not trouble me or mine. We do not know you.” With that, he strode to the buggy, climbed in and quickly drove away.
“What did you expect, Maggie?” Caleb’s father asked from the doorway. “You should have told them Caleb was coming. You should have given them a chance to prepare.”
“Mamm didn’t know I would arrive today.”
“I planned to tell Wayne and Rhonda tonight, that’s why I asked them to come over, but then it was too late. Caleb was already here.”
Ike stepped back from the door. “Come inside. We’re letting all the heat out.”
Maggie went in. Caleb picked up Joy and followed her. His father closed the door behind them.
The warmth of the kitchen was a welcome relief from the chill outside. The smell of the evening meal lingered in the air. His mother had been baking bread. There were five loaves lined up on the counter. The delicious aroma was enough to make Caleb’s stomach rumble. Three animal crackers didn’t make for a substantial supper.
Ike looked at Joy. “Who have we here?”
Caleb braced himself. “This is my daughter, Joy.”
“And where is your wife?”
He met his father’s steely look without flinching. “I’m not married.”
Ike’s lips thinned with displeasure. He gathered himself and managed a smile for Joy. “Welcome to our home, Joy. I’m Ike Mast, your daadi, your grandfather.”
She looked at Caleb and whispered, “Is he like Nana’s Jake?”
“No, honey, he’s your real grandfather. He’s much nicer than Jake.”
Caleb set her down. She gave Ike a tentative smile. “Your house smells good.”
He chuckled. “I reckon it’s your grandma’s cooking that smells good. Are you hungry?”
She nodded. He tipped his head toward the large wooden table. “Have a seat and Maggie will fix you something to eat.”
“You mean Mammi,” she corrected him as she climbed on a chair.
“Ja, your mammi. You know some of our speech. That is goot. Good.”
“What is ja?”
“Ja means yes,” Caleb explained.
“Ja is yes. Good is goot.” Joy nodded vigorously, making her straight blond hair swish across her face. She pressed it back with both hands.
Ike looked Caleb up and down. He nodded toward the table. “You look like you could use some of your mother’s cooking. You’re skin and bones.”
The tension holding Caleb upright drained away, leaving him weak and shaken. To be invited to sit at the table with his father was more than he’d hoped for. He had to clear his throat of a lump the size of Texas before he could speak. “Danki.”
Joy held out her hand. “Sit by me, Daddy.”
Maggie was grinning widely. “He can’t, child. This is the women’s side of the table. He must sit across from us. I will sit by you as soon as I get some food on. Husband, would you like something?”
“A slice of your fresh bread with butter.”
“Kaffi, too?”
“Ja.”
As his mother went to the counter and began cutting a loaf of bread, Caleb rounded the table and pulled out the chair on his father’s right-hand side.
He had almost forgotten how fully Amish traditions permeated every aspect of life. His father sat at the head of the table, with his wife on his left. Sons sat on his right-hand side, from youngest to oldest down the table; daughters sat beside their mother in the same fashion. Caleb knew without a doubt that his chair had been empty since he left home. An empty chair was a pointed reminder to everyone about who was missing.
“Bread and butter will be fine for me, too, Mamm, but no coffee.”
“Lemonade, then?”
“Sure.” She wouldn’t be satisfied until she had made a special effort to please him. If he let her, she would cook a feast. It was late, but he knew that tomorrow mounds of food would be set in front of him. Cooking was his mother’s way of showing her love.
She soon had thick slices of fresh baked bread slathered with peanut-butter spread for Joy, and butter for him and his father. She gave Ike his coffee and Joy a mug of milk, then she set two glasses of lemonade on the table. Still smiling, she took a seat beside Joy.
Her hand shook slightly as she tucked a strand of Joy’s hair behind her ear. “I have wanted a granddaughter for a very long time. I am so happy that Gott brought you to us.”
Joy gave her a beaming peanut-butter-smeared smile. “Daddy said you would like me. I like you, too. I had another mammi. I called her Nana. She went to heaven.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You must miss her. She is with Gott now, so we must be happy for her.”
“Who is Gott?” Joy asked around a mouthful of bread.
“God,” Caleb translated.
“Tomorrow,