Free Plain Paradise by Beth Wiseman Page B

kitchen table that didn’t look like any table Linda had seen before. It was all glass and had six high-back chairs with thick blue cushions. In the center, a pretty glass vase held a mixture of flowers and greenery, although the flowers weren’t like anything Linda had seen in Amish gardens either.
    “It’s coffee, Italian coffee. It has milk foam on top.” Josephine raised her brows. “Want me to make us each a cup?”
    Linda stepped back from the elaborate coffeemaker. “Oh, no. That’s all right. You’ve already prepared us tea.” She nodded toward the two tall glasses of iced tea on the table, but glanced back at the coffee machine on the counter.
    Josephine ran her hand through hair that was the color of wheat, not brown like Linda’s, and then she smiled. “You know, I think a cappuccino is just what we need. It sure sounds good to me. Why don’t I make us some?”
    “Okay.” She liked coffee, although Mamm didn’t encourage drinking too much of it. But she was anxious to see the machine work and to see coffee with foam on top.
    Josephine began a process that captured Linda’s attention, especially when Josephine poured milk into a small pitcher, then placed it under the pipe that made all sorts of odd sounds.
    “We’re steaming the milk now.” She smiled at Linda. “I like to sprinkle nutmeg and cinnamon on mine. Do you want me to do that to yours too?”
    “Sure.” Linda watched her add white foam on top of two cups of steaming coffee, then sprinkle the spices on top. “Josephine . . .” She stopped and realized she had yet to call this woman by name. “What do I call you? I mean, I have a mother and all.”
    Josephine carted the two cups of coffee to the table, pushed the two glasses of tea to the side, and pulled out a chair for Linda. “Here, sit down,” she said.
    Linda sat down and waited for her answer.
    “My name is Josephine, but my friends and family call me Josie.” Her face shone with kindness, and Linda took a deep breath and tried to settle her nerves. “Linda . . .” She paused, placed an elbow on the table, then rested her chin atop it. “I would never expect you to call me mother. Of course, you have a mother. I am just hoping to be your friend, in whatever capacity you will allow me. I just want to get to know you.” She smiled. “Taste the cappuccino.”
    Linda brought the porcelain cup to her mouth and blew. “Hot,” she whispered, then took a sip. “It’s gut .” She took another swig. “It’s very gut .” It was the best coffee she’d ever had.
    “I’m glad you like it. Robert and I became fans of cappuccino about six years ago. Now it’s our thing to curl up on the couch and have a cup in the evenings. Some people can’t do that because the caffeine will keep them up at night, but it doesn’t bother us.”
    Linda took another sip and thought about how she’d like to drink this kind of coffee every day.
    “Josie? It’s okay if I call you that?” Linda set the cup down and Josie nodded.
    “Of course. Josie is just fine.”
    Linda’s stomach churned with anxiety, but she had to know. “Why did you give me away? What would make a mother not want her baby?”
    Josie’s eyes instantly clouded with tears, but Linda knew she needed this question answered first, before she and Josie could even move forward as friends. Josie stirred uneasily in her chair and tried to blink back tears.
    “I wanted you very much,” she said as a tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. “But my parents didn’t want me to raise a baby. I was only seventeen at the time. Your age.” She smiled at Linda, even though another tear trickled down her cheek. “But I wanted you very much. Handing you over to your parents two weeks after you were born was the hardest thing I have ever done. I prayed each day that you would be cared for and grow up to live a good life. My parents said that I was doing what God would want me to do, since Mary Ellen and Abe