Chapter Three
Grace
It was still dark when the shrill sound of the phone cut through the silence and into my sleep. I groped around the nightstand searching for the source of the noise, knowing that it was likely to be Mike looking for a spreadsheet, client file, or a tax form that he'd misplaced. I'd often jokingly threatened to turn off my phone's ringer when I went to bed, but I never did. And Mike knew I wouldn't.
"Mmm hmm, Mike, what's up?" I said trying to sound more awake than I felt. When my greeting was met with silence, I swore quietly. "Dammit, prank calls at four in the morning are not cool!"
"Grace?" a timid voice said on the other end. "Grace, are you there?"
"Verity?" I said quickly sitting up and snapping on the bedside lamp. "What's going on? It's four in the morning; why are you calling?"
"Oh Grace, come...come...come home!" she cried and then dissolved into sobs before she could say anything else.
"Verity, what is going on?" I asked as I felt the panic rising in my chest. There were very few reasons my younger sister would have ventured out of the house to call me at this hour and not many of them would be related to good news.
"Grace, it's Mamm and Dat," she sobbed. "There's been an accident! Come home!"
"Verity, what happened?" I said as dread took the place of panic. I climbed out of bed and walked down the hallway to the kitchen where I held the phone between my shoulder and ear as I began measuring the water to make a pot of strong coffee. The familiar routine calmed my nerves and I knew it was likely that I was going to need the coffee.
I could picture my sister, in her plain, brown dress, shawl, and starched white kapp, standing in the phone booth at the end of the road as she made the call. The sun would be edging its way up into the sky, but the fields would still be dark and peaceful for another half hour or so.
"Grace, their buggy was hit by a truck," Verity choked out before dissolving into sobs.
"It's okay, sweetie," I said trying to calm her enough to get the story. "It's okay, Verity. I'm here. Just tell me what's happening."
"Grace, Mamm and Dat are dead!" she sobbed. "You have to come home!"
I gasped, and then as she cried, I stood next to the sink holding the empty coffee pot in my hand trying to absorb the news. The moment that the dreadful news registered, the glass pot slipped out of my hand and shattered in the sink.
"Dammit!" I shouted as I reached down to gather the jagged pieces of glass and a sharp edge sliced through my skin.
"Grace!" Verity scolded through her tears. I ignored the admonition as I ran cold water over my finger and waited for the bleeding to stop.
"Are you sure it's Mamm and Dat?" I asked trying to stave off the reality for a few minutes more. As long as I didn't acknowledge what my sister was saying, then my parents were still alive. "I mean, there are lots of buggies traveling the roads down there. Are you sure?"
"Yes, Grace," Verity cried. "It's them. It's their buggy and Jacob had to put Toby down because the impact broke his two front legs. It's them, Grace. Please come home."
"Where are Hope and Faith?" I asked.
My next two younger sisters were both married and had families of their own. They lived with their husband's families as they waited for their turn to build a house of their own.
"Hope went to the morgue with Jacob, and Faith is at home with Honor and Danny," she said calmer now, but still crying. "What are we going to do, Grace?"
"Don't worry, I'll come
home," I said as I set the coffee pot aside and began quickly mapping out a plan in my head. "I'll take care of everything and be home by tonight."
"Hurry, Grace," Verity said quietly. "We need you here."
"Don't worry, I'll be there by supper time," I said as I gripped the phone tightly. I wanted to keep my sister on the phone, but I knew she would be needed at the house. "Verity, go back and take care of Honor and Danny while the others take care of Mamm and Dat. I'll pack up and leave as soon as I can. If you need me, call, okay?"
"Okay, I will," she said sounding a little calmer than when the call had started. She was silent for a moment, and then whispered, "How are we going to get through this, Grace?"
"Like we always do," I answered confidently. "Like a family. I love you, and I'll see you at supper."
"I love you, too, Grace," she said before the line went dead.
I stood staring at the phone for a long time trying to process the conversation. My parents were dead. I would never see Mamm standing at the counter rolling out a piecrust or hoeing a row in the garden so she could plant beans. I'd never see Dat walking through the door after a long day in the fields, smiling as he looked at Mamm and telling her how it was her evening meal that was all that had kept him working. I sank to the floor and pulled my knees to my chest as I let out an anguished cry and then sobbed like a child.