The Judgment by Beverly Lewis Page A

was Emma who called Beth’s name just then. How strange that she must’ve sensed her there, standing all forlorn in the doorway. And, with Emma’s lips shaping Beth’s name, the young woman tiptoed to the bedside, knelt quietly, and put her head down on the brightly colored afghan.
    For pity’s sake! Solomon inched to the foot of the bed as Beth began to say a childlike prayer, pleading with the heavenly Father to “look down with compassion and mercy on Rosie’s mommy.”
    Such an unexpected yet beautiful thing to behold. Solomon found himself wiping away silent tears.

    Hen felt bad for not sharing with her sister about Brandon’s ultimatum, but she desired to keep the dreadful news between just her and Dad until she knew what to do. Or at least until she found the right moment to talk with Rose. As it was, she half feared Rose might plead with her to return straightaway to the house in town. Yet how could she, with her husband so opposed to the Plain values and traditions that were once again a part of her?
    Hen picked up the newspaper she’d purchased yesterday evening at a gas station on the way home from seeing Brandon. She found herself quickly absorbed in reading about the after-Thanksgiving sales, recalling the few years she’d crawled out of bed before dawn to go and stand in nearly endless lines at various stores. “No more,” she muttered to herself, spotting the types of secular toys her daughter had always pleaded for and usually received “from Santa,” thanks to Brandon and his parents.
    Presently, Mattie Sue wandered downstairs and into the small living room, looking rather glum. Earlier she’d asked Hen to wrap her head with braids, unlike most young Amish girls. Yet, seeing how determined Mattie Sue was, Hen had wound her daughter’s hair the way she’d asked. Mattie came over and plopped down on the sofa, sniffling. Then, leaning her head against Hen’s arm, she asked in a sad tone, “When can I see Daddy again?”
    Hen had thought of taking her tomorrow, on a quiet Saturday morning, to see how Brandon might actually respond to Hen’s staying and doing needlework while Mattie Sue visited. She recalled how adamant he’d been about wanting Mattie dropped off, and with a sigh, she realized she had no idea if he would even be home tomorrow. What if she found only Terry there again? Hen certainly wasn’t looking forward to a similar awkward encounter.
    “I miss my puppy dog, too.” Mattie Sue wiped her eyes. “Don’t you?”
    “Yes, and I know you miss Daddy even more than Wiggles.” Hen leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Maybe next week I’ll take you.”
    “But I don’t want to wait.”
    “Well, it might not suit Daddy right now if we just popped in.”
    “Why not, Mommy?” Mattie asked, beginning to carry on like she had when they’d lived with Brandon not so many weeks ago.
    At that moment, Hen heard a car creeping into the driveway, and when she got up to look, she noticed a familiar blue Dodge Caravan. Well, what do you know, she thought. “Mattie Sue . . . go look outside. Someone you know is coming to visit.”
    Mattie Sue ran to the back door window. “It’s Diane Perlis . . . and Karen!”
    “ Mrs. Perlis , remember, honey.”
    Mattie Sue was much too surprised by the visit to correct herself. And before Hen could say otherwise, she darted out the back door without a coat and ran across the yard to her little friend. Mattie Sue hugged Karen as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. A lump came into Hen’s throat as she stood in the open door witnessing the affectionate greeting, suddenly realizing she was depriving her daughter of not only her father but of her dearest friend.
    “Hen . . . hi!” called Diane, looking at her now with eyebrows raised at Hen’s full Amish attire. She was a slip of a woman with a thick fringe of bangs and stick-straight brown hair that hung past her shoulders.
    “Good to see you, Diane.” Hen wandered