The Mockingbird's Song Read online

  Monroe set the basket of fruit on the floor and extended his hand. “I should have introduced myself when you answered the door, instead of just asking to speak to your mudder.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Ezekiel rose from his seat and clasped Monroe’s hand. Michelle did the same.

  “Your mamm and I were friends during our youth. In fact, I courted her before your daed came into the picture and stole her away.” He took a few steps closer to Mom. “Isn’t that right, Belinda?”

  Her cheeks turned crimson as she nodded. “That was a long time ago, Monroe.”

  “Seems like yesterday to me.” He cleared his throat a couple of times. “’Course, that might be because I never got married or raised a familye of my own, the way you did.” His gaze traveled around the table. “And what a fine family I see here right now.”

  I wonder if Monroe’s trying to impress us or Mom by his compliment. Sylvia clutched both halves of her napkin. Well, I, for one, am not impressed. Monroe owns his own furniture store, but maybe he’s trying to acquire Mom’s business too. He could be what some folks call “an Amish entrepreneur.” Who knows? Since Monroe has no wife or family, he might be quite wealthy and could be looking to make even more money. Surely his interest in Mom goes deeper than just reminiscing about how they’d once courted. Monroe knows how much Mom loved Dad, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t looking to marry our mother so he could get his hands on the greenhouse.

  Mom pulled out an empty chair and said, “Monroe, would you like to join us for pei and kaffi?”

  His sappy grin stretched wide. “Why, jah, I surely would. Danki, Belinda.”

  Sylvia rubbed her forehead. Oh great. This man’s presence at our table is not what we need today—or any other time, for that matter. She looked over at Amy, who had set her cup down and crossed her arms. No doubt my sister isn’t happy about Monroe being here either.

  Sylvia’s gaze went to Ezekiel and then Henry. Neither of them looked the least bit pleased when Monroe took a seat.

  “Looks like you have a variety of pies on the table,” the man said. “But I don’t see any minsfleesch. Weren’t those included in your Christmas desserts?”

  Mom shook her head as she poured coffee into a clean mug and handed it to Monroe. “To be honest, none of my family cares much for mincemeat.”

  His mouth opened slightly. “Not even you, Belinda?”

  “I don’t mind it, myself, but it’s not one of my favorites.” She pointed to the pies on the table. “As you can see, we have apple, pumpkin, and chocolate-cream. Would you care for one of those?”

  Monroe hesitated a moment, before pointing at the pumpkin pie sitting closest to him. “Guess I’ll have a slice of that.”

  Mom cut a piece, placed it on a clean plate, and handed it to him. “Enjoy.”

  Sylvia watched in disgust as he dug into it with an eager expression. She hoped he would leave as soon as he was done eating. The family had plans to play a few games after dessert, and it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun if Monroe hung around.

  She got up and went over to check on Rachel, who had begun to fuss. After changing the baby’s diaper, she went to the bathroom to wash her hands, before returning to the table.

  “What do you do for a living, young man?” Monroe’s question was directed at Ezekiel.

  “I have my own business in New York, making and selling various products for people who raise bees for their honey,” Ezekiel replied. “I also have hives and sell my local honey to many people who live in our area. I used to raise bees and sell honey here before my wife and I left Strasburg.” He gestured to Henry. “My young brother has taken over that business now.”

  Henry offered Ezekiel a smile that was obviously forced. “Oh, jah, and it’s my favorite thing to do.”

  Sylvia felt the tension between her brothers as they stared across the table at each other. No doubt Ezekiel heard the sarcasm in Henry’s voice. The last thing they needed were harsh words being spoken, especially with Monroe here taking it all in.

  In an effort to put a lid on things, Sylvia stood. “How about if those of us who have finished eating take our dishes into the kitchen to be washed?”

  “Well, I’m definitely not done eating,” Monroe announced. “If no one has any objection, I’d like to try some of that apple pie now.”

  “We’ve all had seconds, so I’m sure there would be no objections.” Mom reached for the pie pan right away and cut him another piece.

  Sylvia groaned inwardly. Was her mother trying to be a polite hostess, or did she fancy Monroe’s company? Sylvia hoped that wasn’t the case. She couldn’t even imagine having Monroe as her stepfather.

  “Now don’t look so worried.” Amy patted Sylvia’s arm as they stood in the kitchen getting ready to wash their dessert dishes. She kept her voice lowered and turned to check the doorway. “Mom was only being polite when she invited Monroe to join us for pie and coffee. She has no interest in him whatsoever.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Sylvia filled the sink with warm soapy water.

  “Because she’s told me so.”

  “She has said that to me too, yet whenever the man comes around, she always welcomes him.”

  “Our mamm welcomes everyone who comes to our door. She’s kind and polite, even to people like the homeless woman, Maude, who last summer took things without asking from our garden and helped herself to cookies that had been set out in the greenhouse.” Amy nodded. “I’ve let poor Maude get away with a few things too.”

  “I wonder how that elderly woman is faring inside that old rundown shack during this cold, snowy weather.” Sylvia reached for a sponge and began washing the dessert plates.

  “I don’t think she’s there anymore. Jared and I stopped by the shack last week with some groceries Mom wanted to give Maude, but there was no sign of her—just an empty cot and old table in the middle of the otherwise barren room.”

  “Maybe she moved out of the area. Or perhaps, if she has any family, she went to spend the winter with them.”

  Amy picked up the first plate to dry. “I asked her once if she had any family, and she said no.”

  “I can’t imagine how it would be not to have any family at all.”

  “Me neither,” agreed Amy.

  “Do you two need some help with the dishes?” Michelle asked, joining them in the kitchen.

  “If you don’t mind, you can put the dishes away once they’ve been dried,” Amy responded.

  “I don’t mind at all.” Michelle moved closer to the counter near the sink. “Your mamm is keeping an eye on the kinner in the other room, while Monroe plies Ezekiel with more questions about his bee-supply business.”

  “What are Jared and Henry doing?” Sylvia asked.

  “Jared made a few comments here and there, but Henry left the room. Said he was going upstairs to read a magazine.”

  Amy chuckled. “Leave it up to our teenage brother to make a quick escape. He probably would have done that anyway, even if Monroe hadn’t showed up.”

  “I have a hunch Mr. Esh has taken an interest in your mamm.” Michelle put a stack of dry plates into the cupboard.

  “Jah,” Amy said with regret in her tone. “But I am certain that Mom doesn’t want anything but a casual friendship with him. Besides, Dad hasn’t even been gone a year, so in my opinion, Monroe shouldn’t be trying to worm his way into our mother’s life.”

  Sylvia gave a decisive nod. “Agreed.”

  When the last dish was done, Sylvia felt the need for some fresh air. “Think I’ll slip into my boots and outer apparel and take a little walk outside in the snow. Do either of you care to join me?”

  “I’ll pass on that idea. I’d like to spend some time with Jared, and by now Mom may have set some games out for us all to play,” Amy replied.

  “It’s too cold outside for me.” Michelle rubbed her arms briskly. “Just thinking about going out in the snow makes me feel chilly.”

  “Okay then, I’ll
join you in the dining room after I come back inside.”

  Sylvia went out to the utility room, where everyone in the family kept their boots, along with jackets, sweaters, and shawls. After taking a seat on a folding chair to slip into her boots, she wrapped a heavy shawl around her shoulders, put on a pair of woolen gloves, and went out the back door.

  Although it wasn’t snowing at the moment, the air was colder than Sylvia expected. Unfazed by it, however, she tromped through the snow, reliving the days when she and her siblings had been children. They’d spent many happy days in this yard, frolicking in the winter snow; jumping through piles of leaves in the fall; flying kites in the field behind their house on windy spring days; and chasing after fireflies on hot, humid summer evenings. Oh, how Sylvia missed those carefree days, when her biggest worry was who would be the first one up to bat whenever they got a game of baseball going.

  Will my children have fond childhood memories when they grow up? Sylvia wondered. When Rachel and Allen are both old enough to be given the freedom to roam around the yard by themselves, will they find things to do that’ll leave them with good memories?

  Sylvia worried that not having a father around to help in their upbringing and take them on fun outings might hamper what she’d hoped would be a normal childhood for them. Even if she didn’t feel like doing anything just for fun, Sylvia promised herself that she would make every effort to spend quality time with Allen and Rachel in hopes of giving them some joyful memories.

  Sylvia continued her trek through the backyard and made her way around to the front of the house. She looked in the window and saw Monroe sitting in Dad’s old chair as he chatted with Ezekiel. It was difficult seeing this fellow trying to move in on her family.

  I wish Monroe would leave soon. Doesn’t he realize he’s cutting into our family time? Sylvia tightened her scarf with her gloved hands. Ezekiel seems to be conducting himself in a pleasant manner with Monroe. But he’s a minister now, so I guess he has to be nice and do the right thing with everyone he meets. I hope my sister is right about Mom only wanting to befriends with Monroe and nothing more. I couldn’t stand the idea of him moving in and trying to take Dad’s place.

  Not quite ready to go back inside yet, she walked down the driveway to check for any messages they may have waiting in the phone shed.

  After stepping into the small, cold wooden building, she saw the green light flashing on their answering machine. She took a seat on the icy metal chair and clicked the button.

  “Hello, Sylvia, it’s Selma. I’m calling to see how you and the children are doing and to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

  Tears sprang to Sylvia’s eyes at the sound of Toby’s mother’s voice. She hadn’t heard from her in-laws in nearly a month and had wondered how they were doing. She’d been meaning to call them, but the busyness of getting ready for Ezekiel and his family’s arrival and helping Mom and Amy with holiday baking had taken up much of Sylvia’s time. Of course, that was no excuse. Wayne and Selma were Allen and Rachel’s paternal grandparents, and they had a right to know how their grandchildren were doing.

  After Sylvia listened to the rest of her mother-in-law’s message, she dialed the number and left a response, suggesting that they come down from their home in Mifflin County sometime this spring to see the children. Sylvia also mentioned how much Rachel and Allen had grown.

  When Sylvia left the phone shed, she glanced across the road and stood staring at the twinkling colored lights draped around their neighbors’ front window. They also had a colorful wreath on the front door.

  I wonder why so many English folks feel the need to decorate their homes at Christmas. Is it their way of celebrating the birth of Christ, or do they do it because they enjoy looking at the colored lights?

  Sylvia hadn’t seen much of Virginia and Earl Martin since the weather had turned cold. During the summer, and into the fall, she’d seen Virginia out on her front porch many times. Earl’s truck sat parked in the driveway out front, but no other vehicles were in sight. Apparently, the Martins had no company today, or perhaps they had gone somewhere to celebrate Christmas. Since their detached garage was around back, Sylvia had no way of knowing if Virginia’s car was there or not.

  Sylvia turned back toward the house. I would have been happier if Mom had asked the Martins to join us for dessert, or even Christmas dinner, then inviting Monroe to sit at our table. If he doesn’t leave soon, I may do like Henry and retreat to my room with Allen and Rachel.

  Virginia’s gaze went from her husband, sleeping in his recliner, to the small Christmas tree Earl had bought from a local tree farm three days ago. They’d decided to go smaller than the past years when they had picked out a much larger tree together. For some reason, Earl didn’t want a big tree this year. Except for the lights he’d put in the front window at her suggestion, he didn’t seem to be in a festive mood.

  She flipped her fingers through the ends of her bangs. But that’s okay, since I’m not excited about the holiday this year either. In fact, I feel kinda empty inside.

  A loud snore from Earl brought Virginia out of her thoughts. From where she sat on the couch, her eyes began to water and burn from allergies. She’d dealt with this sometimes when they’d brought a live tree into the house.

  She leaned forward and yanked a tissue from the box sitting on the coffee table. I’m pretty sure that silly little fir is the problem. It sat on a small table across the room with pretty red-and-green fabric draped around its base. She had decorated the tree with colored lights and hung a few small ornaments from the boughs.

  Virginia yawned and massaged her leg where it had started to throb. She shifted on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position, while Earl continued to sleep like a baby.

  In truth, for Virginia, Christmas was nothing special—just another boring holiday, since it was just her and Earl. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying. Family. I wish we had some family to share the holiday with and buy gifts for. She pressed her palms against her cheeks. Maybe I deserve the empty feeling I have inside. Could be that a woman like me isn’t worthy of being happy and fulfilled. No man but Earl has ever really cared about me, and sometimes I’m not even sure how he really feels.

  Virginia closed her eyes, trying to remember if there had been any good Christmases when she was a girl. Maybe a few when her dad was sober. She’d had some fairly decent holidays when her first husband was alive too, but they’d been few and far between. For the most part, Virginia’s life had been full of challenges and lots of mistakes.

  Pushing her negative thoughts away, Virginia glanced out the front window at her Amish neighbors’ house. No colored lights there, that was for sure. It hadn’t taken her long to learn that the Plain people didn’t celebrate Christmas with flashy decorations on the outside of their homes.

  She poked her tongue against the inside of her cheek. Probably no trees or ornaments of any kind inside the house either.

  Two days ago, Virginia had seen a van pull into the Kings’ yard. She’d been curious to see how many people had come to visit, but with the snow blowing she couldn’t see well enough to make out much at all. The van had left a short time later, and Virginia didn’t know if the people it had brought to the Kings’ were still at the house. For all she knew, they’d come and gone already. It wasn’t snowing at the moment, though, so she left her seat on the couch and went to peer out the front window.

  Earl would call me snoopy if he caught me doing this, Virginia thought as she picked up the pair of binoculars she’d bought him for Christmas. Truth was, the gift was more for her than Earl, since she was home most of the time while he was in Lancaster selling cars at the dealership where he’d been hired earlier this year.

  Moving closer to the window, and holding the binoculars up to her face, she saw two Amish buggies parked near the house. They have company, of course. I think those people get more company than I’ve had in my entire forty-seven years.

  Virginia spotted an Amish wo
man step out of the phone shed and walk up to the house. No doubt one of those King women, either making a phone call or checking for messages.

  She set the field glasses down and went out on the front porch for a breath of fresh air and a better look at the weather. Winter was not her favorite time of the year, but the one good thing about it was that the greenhouse across the road was closed, bringing less traffic noise and smelly horse manure. The sign out by the Kings’ driveway even said: Closed for the Winter.

  Of course, she reminded herself, it’ll open up again in the spring, and everything that irritates me about living here will start all over. One thing for sure—Virginia wasn’t about to go over there in the spring and buy anymore plants. The tomato plants she’d put in last year had both died; although that wasn’t the Kings’ fault. If she did decide to grow a garden next year, however, she would get everything she needed from the new greenhouse on the other side of town. At least she could relate to those folks a little better, since they weren’t Amish. Virginia had absolutely nothing in common with their neighbors across the road.

  A frigid breeze blew under the porch roof, causing Virginia to shiver and rub her arms. I was stupid for comin’ out here without a coat. I need to get back inside where it’s warm.

  When Virginia entered the house, she found Earl still asleep, only now his snoring had increased. In fact, the whole room seemed to vibrate with the aggravating rumble.

  Irritated, Virginia marched across the room and picked up the remote. When a channel came on to a game show, she cranked up the volume.

  A split second later, Earl came awake. “Hey, what’s going on? Why’s the TV blaring like that, Virginia?”

  “Nothing’s going on. I figured it was time for you to wake up. Thought I’d slice that pumpkin pie I bought at the local bakery the other day. Would you like a piece, Earl?”