Portrait of a Sister Page 3

  “There’s nowhere else I’d want to be. Although, I wish it were for a very different occasion.”

  “It is God’s will,” Katie murmured.

  She hated the way the words felt in her mouth, hated, even more, that she had to say them as if she believed them.

  Lottie’s rocker stilled just before her soft, wrinkly hand reached across the short divide to cover Katie’s. “That may be so, Katie, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or that you’re not allowed to cry.”

  “I-I . . .” She stopped, swallowed, and started again, her voice heavy with the grief that was becoming harder and harder to keep under wraps. “I promised Mamm I would take care of the children . . . and Dat.”

  “And you are. You will.” Lottie’s hand patted Katie’s softly and then retreated back to the armrest of her own rocker. “I bet you’re glad to see Hannah even if it’s only for a little while.”

  Katie turned in time to see Hannah and Travis disappear inside the farmhouse with Mary and Sadie in tow. She looked down at her food and then back up at Miss Lottie, her voice barely more than a raspy whisper. “She does not look like Hannah.”

  “Oh?”

  “The Hannah I remember did not have such black eyelashes and such red cheeks. She wore the same clothes that I wear and did not hold hands with boys.” She bit into a slice of bread in the hope it would somehow steady the tremor in her voice, but it didn’t help. Instead, it simply confirmed her total lack of appetite. “I miss that Hannah.”

  “Inside, she is still the same Hannah you remember, Katie. Makeup and English clothes can’t change that any more than a freshly scrubbed face and aproned dress can change who you are inside.”

  Blinking against the sudden stinging in her eyes, Katie stared down at the chicken leg and green beans she knew she shouldn’t waste. “I miss her so much, Miss Lottie. I-I miss them both so much.”

  “Your mamm is still with you, Katie.” Lottie placed her hand to her chest and closed her eyes for a brief moment. “In your heart and in your mind. Find comfort and strength in that.”

  Comfort.

  And strength.

  Comfort and—

  “And as for Hannah, she is only a bus or a train ride away.”

  Slowly, Katie lifted her eyes to Miss Lottie’s, her lips quivering. “In a big city. With a job. And an apartment. And new friends. And”—her voice faltered—“Travis.”

  “You have Abram, don’t you?”

  She sucked in a breath. “H-how do you know about Abram?”

  “Your mamm and I did not just sit and stare at one another when I came for a visit, dear.” Then, with a slight wave of her hand, Lottie got them back on track. “You are still Hannah’s sister, Katie. Nothing—not a city, or a job, or even a boyfriend—can change that.”

  Oh how she wanted to believe Miss Lottie was right. But the nagging sensation in her chest refused to acquiesce.

  “We used to do everything together. She knew what I was thinking before I did sometimes. But now”—Katie stopped, inhaled sharply, and then sank against the back of her rocking chair—“it is like she is a-a . . . stranger.”

  “Give it time, dear. I suspect that will change.”

  “But how?” she protested. “I do not live in her world and she does not live in mine. Soon, she will be just like all the English girls who stare at my kapp and dress.”

  “That will never happen, dear. At least not in the way you’re implying.”

  “You sound so certain.”

  “Because I am.” Lottie shifted forward in her rocker, stopping its gentle motion as she did. “One only has to see what I see to know how much Hannah loves you.”

  “See what you see?”

  “Every time I spotted your sister in the crowd today, she was looking at you. With nothing but love in her eyes.” Lottie bent forward, retrieved her cane from the ground beside her chair, and readied it for the support she needed in order to stand. “Which is why you should go inside now and soak up every minute you can with her before she heads back to the city.”

  “But I don’t know what to say . . . or how to be around her anymore.”

  “Be yourself, Katie.”

  She looked down at her own simple dress and tried not to compare it to Hannah’s formfitting one. “What happens if that is not enough?”

  “It is.”

  Swiping at the pair of tears that made their way down her cheeks, Katie pushed off the chair, held out her hand, and carefully helped Miss Lottie to her feet. Once the woman was fully upright and steady, she pulled Katie in for a hug.

  “Your mamm loved you, Katie. Loved you with her whole heart. More than anything, she wanted you to be honest and true.”

  Katie stumbled backward, her mouth gaped. “I did not lie to Mamm. Not ever.”

  Miss Lottie quieted Katie’s protest with her finger and a gentle hush. “Being honest and true to yourself is every bit as important as being honest and true with everyone else, Katie.”

  * * *

  Reluctantly, she accepted Travis’s hand as she stepped from the buggy, a whispered “thank-you” the only response she could manage under the circumstances. Yes, he was nice, funny, even. But at that moment, all that mattered was the fact that Hannah was leaving. Again.

  “Are you sure you cannot stay another day?” Katie pulled her hand from Travis’s and used it, instead, to shield the last of the day’s sun from her eyes as she stopped in front of her sister. “You could take a bus to the city tomorrow. Or even the day after.”

  Hannah tugged the strap of her pale blue zippered bag higher onto her shoulder, shaking her head as she did. “I’m sorry, Katie, but I have to go. Jack has a doctor’s appointment in the morning that I have to take him to and Travis has a meeting with his boss.”

  “You are Jack’s nanny, not his mamm. Can’t she take him to his appointment as she should? And”—she cast a nervous eye at Travis before bringing her attention and her pleas back to her twin—“maybe Travis could go back now and you could follow in a few days. After we’ve had a bit more—”

  “Attention, passengers. Attention, passengers. The Lancaster to New York City bus is now boarding on platform 6-B. The Lancaster to New York City bus is now boarding on platform 6-B.”

  Panicked, Katie reached out, grabbed hold of Hannah’s hands, and squeezed. “Please, Hannah, stay for a few more days. I-I think it would help the little ones to have you around. They have been through so much.”

  Slipping her bag off her shoulder, Hannah handed it to Travis and smiled. “Can you take this?”

  “Sure thing, gorgeous.” Travis took the bag, balanced it with his own, and handed Hannah her ticket. Then, turning to Katie, he nodded, his green eyes sparkling. “It was great to finally meet you, Katie. I’ve heard so much about you these past few months.”

  She knew she should say something. Or, at the very least, nod and smile in response, but she was at a loss. If Travis noticed though, he didn’t let on. Instead, he gestured toward the waiting bus with his chin. “Maybe you could come visit us sometime.” Then, without waiting for an answer, he shifted his attention back to Hannah. “I’ll get us some seats while you say goodbye.”

  “Thanks, Travis.”

  And then he was gone, his back fading from sight as he stowed the pair of bags in the cargo hold and then headed onto the bus.

  “He’s right you know,” Hannah said. “Once everything is settled here, you should visit us.”

  “Us?”

  “Yes. Travis and me.”

  “Are you one person now?” Katie hissed.

  Hannah reared back. “Katie!”

  “From the moment he arrived yesterday morning, you have been with Travis.” She heard the tremble of her voice but could do nothing to stop it. “But you are with Travis in the city. Did he really need to come here? To Mamm’s funeral?”

  “Yes!” Hannah snapped back. “He is my boyfriend. He came because I asked him to. I needed him.”

  “You need o
nly God!”

  “Oh stop it, Katie. You’re being childish.”

  “Childish? You think I’m being—”

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Katie,” Hannah said as she reached out and tucked a piece of Katie’s hair back beneath her kapp. “I really don’t. I just want you to come visit me in the city. We’d have such fun.”

  “F-fun? Fun? How can you talk of fun, Hannah? Mamm is dead! Jakob, Samuel, Mary, Sadie, and Annie lost Mamm. I lost Mamm. And you-you left me behind to do this all alone!” Katie’s hands shook with anger as she stared at Hannah and her black tears. “But you can do that, can’t you? You’ve done it before. So go on, leave us again! Go have your fun!”

  Hannah recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “Katie! Take that back!”

  She opened her mouth to defend her words but, when Hannah pulled her in for a hug, only a strangled sob emerged.

  “Oh, Katie. I miss her, too,” Hannah said against Katie’s ear. “So very, very much. But she will be forever in our hearts just as Miss Lottie said.”

  Katie stepped back, stunned. “You spoke with Miss Lottie?”

  “Of course. She is one of the wisest people I’ve ever met.” With a shaky hand, Hannah wiped her cheeks dry. “Miss Lottie helped me find peace with my decision to set out on my own.”

  “She did?”

  “Yah—I mean, yes.”

  “Did Mamm know?” Katie asked. “That you two spoke?”

  “I cannot say for sure. But even if she didn’t, I’m sure she would have understood.”

  She stared at her sister. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s because you don’t talk to Miss Lottie the way we did.”

  “We?”

  “Mamm had heart-to-heart talks with Miss Lottie, too.”

  Heart-to-heart talks?

  Pressing her fingertips against her temples, Katie willed the pain she felt building in her head to stay away. She needed to focus. To make sense of what Hannah was saying. “Why would Mamm have needed such talks?”

  “Mamm was human, Katie, just like everyone else. She had her own worries and fears, I’m sure. And more than that, she wanted the best for me,” Hannah said as she gathered Katie’s hands inside her own. “And she wanted the best for you, too.”

  “I—”

  “Attention, passengers. Attention, passengers. Final boarding has begun for the Lancaster to New York City bus. All ticketed passengers should make their way to platform 6-B now. All ticketed passengers on the 6:45 Lancaster to New York City bus should make their way to platform 6-B now.”

  Hannah lurched forward, planted a kiss on Katie’s forehead, and then stepped back, her hands still holding Katie’s tightly. “I have to go, Katie. I am sorry you have to deal with all of this on your own, but Samuel and Jakob and Mary are older now, let them help. Do not try to do everything on your own. You are allowed to have a life, too, Katie, whether that life is to be spent with Abram here in Lancaster . . . or pursuing a very different life somewhere else. Remember that.”

  She tried to blink away the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, but even with her best effort, one still escaped down her cheek. “It is not that simple and you know that, Hannah.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “There is no maybe about it,” Katie protested. “Unlike you, I have been baptized. If I were to run off the way that you did, I would lose my whole family!”

  Hannah’s eyes narrowed in anger. “You say that as if Dat and the children are your only family. But I am still your family, too, Katie! My leaving didn’t change that.”

  “How very lucky for you.”

  “That is not fair, Katie!”

  “What is not fair? You did not see Mamm’s sadness when you left. But I did. I saw it every time she looked at your spot at the table! I saw it every time Sadie would ask her about you! I saw it every time she would catch me crying! I saw it every time she would come into my room and try not to react to seeing your empty dress hook next to mine! You think I could have done that to her, too?”

  Hannah drew in a noticeable breath. “I can’t do this right now, Katie, I just can’t. But I’m only a letter and a bus ride away. Remember that. Always.”

  “I—”

  Releasing Katie’s hands, Hannah motioned toward the bus. “I really have to go. Kiss the little ones for me every night, will you? And tell them I love them!”

  “Of course.”

  Hannah took two steps and stopped. “Oh, and Katie? I’m sorry about . . . well, you’ll see.”

  “Sorry about what?”

  “That was probably the wrong choice of words. Because I’m not sorry, exactly. But if it helps, I left you one in return.”

  “Wait! I don’t understand. You left me what in return?” she called as Hannah made her way toward the bus and the rather impatient looking driver standing beside the door. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

  Hannah stepped onto the bus, turned, and then popped her head outside the open doorway one last time. “You will, Katie. Soon. Very, very soon.”

  Chapter 4

  The candlelight visible beneath her bedroom door disappeared as Dat extinguished the day with what had surely been a breath of resignation. He’d been stoic, of course, as he’d stood beside his wife’s freshly dug grave and again back at the house as they greeted the hundred plus mourners who’d gathered for a meal afterward. But somewhere behind the expression he’d worn, Katie knew there had to be tremendous grief.

  Mamm and Dat had been married for nearly twenty-two years. They’d fallen for one another in the same way many Amish couples did—while socializing at a neighboring district’s hymn sing. From bits and pieces Mamm had shared over the years, they’d married the next winter and by the following fall, Hannah and Katie were born. Seven more children had followed with two—a boy, and later a girl—not making it past a week old. Through it all, Mamm and Dat had been by each other’s side.

  Until now.

  Slowly, Katie returned her focus to the ceiling above her bed and the image of Abram Zook now infringing on the outskirts of her thoughts. If she were to marry Abram, as Mamm said, would their daughter catch him looking at Katie the way she’d once caught Dat looking at Mamm?

  Oh she remembered that moment like it was yesterday. She’d just finished cleaning the chicken coop and she’d gone inside to wash her hands. As she’d stepped into the kitchen, she’d caught sight of Dat standing at the back door, looking toward the stove with a hint of a smile on his lips. Certain she would see a cooling pie atop the stove or a plate of freshly made cookies sitting on the counter, she had been surprised to find only Mamm in his sight.

  Now, her heart ached for Dat. For the loss he surely felt but would just as surely never show.

  “Oh, Mamm,” she whispered. “Why did you have to go?”

  This time, she didn’t wipe away the tears. She didn’t have to. In her room, she was free—free to think, free to cry.

  And free to draw . . .

  Flipping onto her side, Katie reached around the edge of the mattress, slipped her fingers beneath it, and savored the quick thrill born on the answering feel of the artist’s pad she’d purchased during Rumspringa nearly five years earlier. The thrill, of course, was quickly shoved to the side by an equally familiar rush of guilt—the same rush of guilt responsible for the handful of untouched pages calling to her now.

  She tried to resist its pull, tried to focus, instead, on the next day’s chores and the sleep they required, but it was no use. Tonight, more than ever, she needed the peace that was hers the moment her pencil touched down on the paper.

  It was a feeling she didn’t really understand, but that didn’t make it less real. When she was alone with her memories and her pencil, it was like she was a different person. A person who wasn’t defined by a kapp or a dress or a way of life.

  When she was drawing, she was truly Katie.

  Gently, she pulled out the large pad and placed it in her lap, the
rapid beat of her heart as much about anticipation as the fear that one of her siblings—or, worse, Dat—would learn her secret. But for now, at that very moment, her secret was safe.

  With careful fingers, she flipped back the cover and stared down at the picture of Mamm she’d drawn during Rumspringa. There had been many mistakes—a line beside the eyes that hadn’t looked quite right, the curve of the chin that had been erased countless times, the shape of the nose that seemed off somehow, and Mamm’s size in relation to the flowers she’d been planting in the garden. But for a first try, it hadn’t been that bad.

  She leaned closer, soaking up every detail of the woman she’d never known life without until now. Somehow, someway, Mamm had made everything look easy. Including her illness and death.

  Katie swallowed against the lump she felt inching its way up her throat—a lump she knew would lead to even more of the tears Mamm hadn’t wanted her to cry. Instead, she traced the high cheekbones with her finger while trying to block out the memory of the way they’d changed in the final weeks.

  That Mamm—the sick Mamm—was temporary. The Mamm in her head and in the picture in front of her was Mamm as Katie would always remember her being. Happy. Content. And healthy.

  After a while, Katie reluctantly turned the page, her need to breathe winning out over her need to remember. Yet the moment her gaze shifted to the picture of Samuel chasing a chicken, she knew Mamm was still there, still part of every memory she’d recorded with her pencil. No, Mamm wasn’t standing beside Samuel, or even peering out from the kitchen window just over his left shoulder, but she was still there—there in Samuel’s smile and in Mary’s clap as the then almost ten-year-old looked on from the garden she was helping tend.

  Katie secured the bottom corner of the page between her fingers and flipped it upward, her mind jumping to the sketch of Luke Hochstetler her eyes instantly registered as missing.

  Bolting upright, Katie took in the sketch of Mary and Sadie walking across the pasture, hand in hand, and then lifted her gaze to the ragged edge that served as tangible proof that the sketch of Luke had, indeed, existed outside her head.