our sins, no one else can speak for us.”
A little sob escaped her. “Jah. I’ll be there tomorrow. Ready for confession.”
The others in the room shifted in their seats, as though relieved that Zanna was contrite. Abby felt grateful that such difficult issues arose so seldom, because gatherings like these took their toll on everyone’s emotions.
“Do you have anything more to say, Suzanna?” the bishop asked. “We should discuss the fellow who fathered this baby.”
“James.” Zanna inhaled deeply as she fixed her gaze on him. “Did you mean it when you said you’d still marry me?” she asked in a faltering voice. “When you said you’d clear the slate and raise this baby as your own?”
James stood up suddenly, as if irritated that she’d put him on the spot in front of their church leaders. “And did you mean it when you said you loved me each time I said I loved
you
?” he rasped. “Did you
mean
it, all those times you kissed me and acted so excited to be getting married—even though you gave yourself to somebody else in July?”
Zanna’s head shot up, her resentment matching his.
When Vernon rose, the only sound in the room was the rocking of his empty chair. The old fellow straightened his stooped shoulders, a reminder of the weight he bore as their district’s bishop. “Once again, Suzanna, you were not alone in this sin,” he insisted quietly. “The man in question needs to make it right—to come forward and confess along with you, so—”
“But that will never happen!” Zanna looked at the family members around her, entreating their support. “Even if I thought it could work out, you’d never agree to me marrying him.”
“Is he English, then?” Mamm’s face clouded over, as though this might be the greatest disgrace of all.
“Is he married?” Sam demanded. “If you got yourself involved with—”
“No.”
Abby recognized the set of her sister’s jaw. Zanna had assumed that look, that tone, when she was a child who’d been cornered by the adults. And James? He was a man aghast at Zanna’s unwillingness to reveal the rest of her unpleasant secret.
“He’s not marrying or settling down anytime soon; I can tell you that,” Zanna replied. She crossed her arms protectively over her midsection. “I’ve done a lot of thinking about it, and I—I’m taking full responsibility for the mistakes I made. And for raising this baby, too.”
“You have no idea what you’re saying,” Sam said, exasperated. “No idea about taking on—”
“Hush, Sam! Let her say what she will,” Mamm insisted. “We’re all here listening, as witnesses. You’ve always said Zanna needed to be held accountable, ain’t so?”
Abby shifted in her seat, trapped between two angry men. On her left, James sat down again as though he regretted seeing this side of the girl he’d loved, while on her right, Sam bristled at their mother for overriding his authority. This sort of confrontation was rare, as it went against the principles of their faith.
Abby’s stomach knotted.
Let Zanna speak her mind carefully, Lord, and guide the bishop as he directs her fate
, she prayed quickly.
Help us to wrap our arms around this difficult situation and see Your will at work.
Zanna sighed, lowering her eyes. “You’re my family. I came home because I knew I couldn’t do this alone. God saw fit to make a baby, and I intend to keep it—to raise it rather than give it up for adoption,” she added, with a purposeful look at Barbara and Mamm. “If you can’t help me with that, then I—I guess I’ll have to find somewhere else to go… some other way to support myself and my child.”
Abby closed her eyes, while her brother rose from his chair as if to signal the end of this discussion—and his patience. This sounded like another of Zanna’s uninformed decisions, a fantasy she had nopractical way to carry out. Yet Abby detected the steely determination of a young woman who would make good on
A little sob escaped her. “Jah. I’ll be there tomorrow. Ready for confession.”
The others in the room shifted in their seats, as though relieved that Zanna was contrite. Abby felt grateful that such difficult issues arose so seldom, because gatherings like these took their toll on everyone’s emotions.
“Do you have anything more to say, Suzanna?” the bishop asked. “We should discuss the fellow who fathered this baby.”
“James.” Zanna inhaled deeply as she fixed her gaze on him. “Did you mean it when you said you’d still marry me?” she asked in a faltering voice. “When you said you’d clear the slate and raise this baby as your own?”
James stood up suddenly, as if irritated that she’d put him on the spot in front of their church leaders. “And did you mean it when you said you loved me each time I said I loved
you
?” he rasped. “Did you
mean
it, all those times you kissed me and acted so excited to be getting married—even though you gave yourself to somebody else in July?”
Zanna’s head shot up, her resentment matching his.
When Vernon rose, the only sound in the room was the rocking of his empty chair. The old fellow straightened his stooped shoulders, a reminder of the weight he bore as their district’s bishop. “Once again, Suzanna, you were not alone in this sin,” he insisted quietly. “The man in question needs to make it right—to come forward and confess along with you, so—”
“But that will never happen!” Zanna looked at the family members around her, entreating their support. “Even if I thought it could work out, you’d never agree to me marrying him.”
“Is he English, then?” Mamm’s face clouded over, as though this might be the greatest disgrace of all.
“Is he married?” Sam demanded. “If you got yourself involved with—”
“No.”
Abby recognized the set of her sister’s jaw. Zanna had assumed that look, that tone, when she was a child who’d been cornered by the adults. And James? He was a man aghast at Zanna’s unwillingness to reveal the rest of her unpleasant secret.
“He’s not marrying or settling down anytime soon; I can tell you that,” Zanna replied. She crossed her arms protectively over her midsection. “I’ve done a lot of thinking about it, and I—I’m taking full responsibility for the mistakes I made. And for raising this baby, too.”
“You have no idea what you’re saying,” Sam said, exasperated. “No idea about taking on—”
“Hush, Sam! Let her say what she will,” Mamm insisted. “We’re all here listening, as witnesses. You’ve always said Zanna needed to be held accountable, ain’t so?”
Abby shifted in her seat, trapped between two angry men. On her left, James sat down again as though he regretted seeing this side of the girl he’d loved, while on her right, Sam bristled at their mother for overriding his authority. This sort of confrontation was rare, as it went against the principles of their faith.
Abby’s stomach knotted.
Let Zanna speak her mind carefully, Lord, and guide the bishop as he directs her fate
, she prayed quickly.
Help us to wrap our arms around this difficult situation and see Your will at work.
Zanna sighed, lowering her eyes. “You’re my family. I came home because I knew I couldn’t do this alone. God saw fit to make a baby, and I intend to keep it—to raise it rather than give it up for adoption,” she added, with a purposeful look at Barbara and Mamm. “If you can’t help me with that, then I—I guess I’ll have to find somewhere else to go… some other way to support myself and my child.”
Abby closed her eyes, while her brother rose from his chair as if to signal the end of this discussion—and his patience. This sounded like another of Zanna’s uninformed decisions, a fantasy she had nopractical way to carry out. Yet Abby detected the steely determination of a young woman who would make good on
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