a math test to her combined fifth and sixth-graders, and directed rehearsals for the program done every year for parents and friends. Naturally, none of the boys had memorized their parts, and the walk-through for the skit had ended in tears when two sisters each wanted the same role. Hannah was glad that it was a busy day, because it gave her less time to worry about what she would say to David King’s parents.
As soon as the last child had departed at the end of the school day, Hannah drove directly to the King house. Though she still had to contend with a tearful Susanna at home again, it seemed wisest to first discuss the incident with David’s mother, Sadie. That way, the two mothers could present a united front. Something had to be done. David and Susanna couldn’t go on pretending that they were walking out together.
All the way there, Hannah hoped that Ebben, David’s father, would be out of the house. This was women’s business, and having Ebben be part of the conversation would make it more awkward for her. Sadie was a good, loving mother and a fine friend. Surely, she and Sadie could put an end to this behavior without harming either of their children.
“Come in, come in.” Sadie must have been watching for her because the stocky little woman came out the side door as soon as Hannah drove up the lane. “Ebben!” Sadie called. “Take Hannah’s horse.” And then to Hannah, “Let Ebben see to him. You come in and have some of the applesauce cake I just took out of the oven.”
Sadie’s kitchen was smaller than her own, but just as clean. Simple white linen tiebacks hung at the windows, and pale yellow walls brightened the room. A round oak table with four chairs stood in the center of the room. Overhead hung a white kerosene lamp decorated with faded red roses, lit now against the gray afternoon.
“Tea?” Sadie asked. “Or coffee?”
“Coffee, if it’s no trouble,” Hannah responded.
Sadie bustled around, reminding Hannah of a banty hen in her gray dress, black stockings and white kapp and apron. Sadie’s clothing still reflected the Amish community that they’d lived in before they’d moved to Delaware. Her kapp was sewn slightly different, her skirt and apron were longer and she wore high-topped black leather shoes, rather than the black canvas sneakers most women in Seven Poplars wore in the summer.
Sadie poured the coffee and brought a tiny pottery cream pitcher and matching sugar bowl to the table. She sliced generous pieces of applesauce cake and placed them beside the coffee mugs. “Honey or sugar?” she asked. “I like raw sugar, but Ebben and David do love that honey your Johanna brought us at Christmas.”
Hannah was eager to see what David’s parents thought about the previous night’s misbehavior. Still, it would have been rude to jump right into the subject. First, news of children’s and grandchildren’s health and activities had to be exchanged, and Hannah had to tell Sadie about the plans for the school picnic. Sadie asked what Hannah was bringing for the shared meal after morning church service on Sunday, and when Hannah said potato salad with peas, Sadie wanted the recipe.
Hannah forced herself to at least appear relaxed, but she couldn’t help glancing around. Ebben remained outside, and there was no sign of David. “David’s outside with the chickens,” Sadie said as she refilled Hannah’s coffee cup. “Would you like another piece of cake?” Hannah shook her head. “David loves chickens,” Sadie continued. “Ebben says he can coax two eggs a day out of those hens. David’s a good boy.”
Hannah nodded. “I know he is.”
Sadie’s right hand trembled as she reached for the sugar. She clenched her fingers into a fist and buried it in the folds of her starched apron. “He’s a sweet boy, Hannah, a really gentle soul.”
Hannah murmured in agreement. “So is my Susanna.”
Sadie knotted her fingers together. Her faded blue eyes grew misty with tears. “When David was born, the midwife told me that he was a Mongoloid.”
Hannah winced. The term was wrong. Ugly. “Downs,” she corrected softly. “With Down syndrome. Like my Susanna.”
“She wasn’t Amish. The midwife. ‘He might not live,’ she said. ‘A lot of times babies like him have a bad heart. It might be a blessing if he did—’ My Ebben, he’s quiet, like David. But he got so mad at that woman. ‘Don’t you say that!’ he said. ‘Don’t you say such things about our beautiful son.’ And he was beautiful, Hannah. He had this mop of yellow hair, as yellow as May butter, big blue eyes and the sweetest look on his face.”
“My husband always said that Susanna was a blessing from God.”
Sadie nodded eagerly. “Ebben asked that midwife to leave and not come back. We took David to a baby doctor at a big hospital. He told us that David would grow and learn like any other child. But he never said what a good boy David would be. He’s never been willful.” She hesitated. “It’s why we never thought that David would ever...”
“Sneak out at night?”
“Our older son, now that one. When he was Rumspringa—he was a caution. Sowing his wild oats, Ebben always said. And if David wasn’t...didn’t have Downs, we would have expected him to...”
“But he does. They do.” Hannah swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “We’ve always protected Susanna, kept her close. She’s afraid of the dark. Running off to buy pizza...” Hannah exhaled softly. “I don’t know what to do. They just have this idea that—”
“That they’re courting,” Sadie finished. “I know. I know it’s crazy, but David is very fond of your Susanna. He talks about her all the time.”
“They could have been killed in that buggy accident.”
“I know. I couldn’t get a wink of sleep last night. David’s driven in the field and in the yard, but never a horse on the road. He doesn’t understand the danger of motor vehicles. It’s a blessing your pony wasn’t injured when the buggy went into the ditch.”
Both women were quiet for a moment.
“The question is,” Hannah said, “what do we do about them? I almost sent her to Brazil to visit Leah and her husband. I thought that maybe a few months away from David and—”
Sadie cut her off absently. “He was sick. When he was little. Cancer. We thought we were going to lose him. But God was good. The doctors...”
She raised her gaze to meet Hannah’s. “He can’t ever be a father, our David. The doctors said it’s impossible. Some boys with his...with Downs... But for certain with David. He’ll never be able to...you know.”
“Oh.” Hannah almost said she was sorry, but was she? Was that a blessing, considering David’s difficulty in taking care of his own needs? And why was Sadie sharing that? What did it have to do with Susanna and David sneaking off at night?
“I was just thinking,” Sadie said. “Ebben’s cousin’s daughter Janet, she’s slow. Not Downs. Not like Susanna or David. But she can’t read, can hardly count to twenty. David can, you know. He can read, too. Easy books and The Budget. He loves to read The Budget to us in the evenings.”
Hannah waited, wondering what Sadie’s point was.
“Janet, she got to an age where she wanted to be like her sisters, wanted to walk out with boys and go to the singings and the frolics. And pretty soon, she had herself a beau.”
“What
