Abby Finds Her Calling (18 page)

But her life would never be that way again.

As she glanced out at the falling snow, Zanna sensed it would be a long winter. Boring. Too quiet. Afternoons, she got so lonely she couldn’t wait for Abby to get home, or for Barbara to suggest she come over and help with the baking or cleaning.

At least the gossips and finger-pointers have stopped. And come April—

It seemed so far away, the month her baby was due. Yet as Zanna realized how much she needed to learn about childbirth, and how much money she had to tuck away these next months, her heart raced in panic. How could she possibly earn enough money—any money at all—if Sam made her stay here, out of sight?

Stop it! Just leave it be.

Zanna left about six inches of the floral strip hanging loose and picked up the last length of blue fabric that had once been her wedding dress. As she worked in the new color, carefully tucking in the edges, her mind wandered.

If you’d worn this pretty blue dress—gone through with the wedding—you’d be Mrs. Graber now. And if you hadn’t gone to see Jonny that one last time… ridden on his new Harley, hanging on to him for dear life while you couldn’t stop shrieking and laughing…

Zanna sucked in her breath. There it was again, that little tickly feeling.

Might be a sign you’re to stop thinking about Jonny and that wild ride… and what came after. It only makes you feel lonely, missing what you can’t have.

Zanna sighed. She crocheted around the small end of the oval until she reached the straight edge again. It wouldn’t be long until she presented this rug to Adah—and informed Jonny’s mamm that she’d made it especially for her. Zanna wasn’t so sure how Adah might react to that, but she wanted to see the outspoken woman’s face. She hoped Abby might say something to fill in the awkward pauses, to keep stupidity from coming out of her own mouth. Her sister had said that thinking positive thoughts, believing good things would come of this awkward situation, was the best way to handle discouraging moments. Some days she had a lot of those.

A knock at Abby’s kitchen door made Zanna turn around to see Mamm coming in, stomping the snow from her boots. “How are you, Zanna?” she asked cheerfully. “Gail brought sandwiches home from the pie shop. You might be under the ban, but you and the baby need to eat lunch, I figure. And how’s that rug coming?”

“It’s nearly finished.” Zanna closed her eyes. Things had been none too cozy between her and Mamm since she’d made her confession. She would rather eat alone… but the scent of Lois Yutzy’s fresh bread, melted cheese, and grilled onions reminded her how hungry she was.

“It’s time I closed up the greenhouse for the winter. Not a soul has wandered in there today, what with this snow.” Mamm padded over in her stocking feet and set the fat white bakery sack on the table. “Why, Zanna, what a wonderful mix of colors you’ve got in
this rug! When Abby told me you were making it, and who it’s for—well, I…”

Her mother sat in the chair across the little table. Her chin quivered, and then she made a fuss of getting out the sandwiches, rattling the sack. “Mostly, I want to apologize for acting so standoffish. Making it sound like this baby is to be your punishment, or a burden you have to bear all by yourself, instead of the most wonderful blessing.”

Zanna sucked in her breath and sat up straighter.

Her mother studied her. “Need a dishpan?”

“No, no, it’s…” How did she describe this sensation without sounding ridiculous? “It’s this little tingly, feathery feeling. Probably nothing, but—”

Mamm counted on her fingers, and grinned when she got to four. “Well, now! It’s a gut thing your mamm came over today, because that’s the baby moving, Zanna,” she exclaimed. “It’ll be real to you now, letting you know it’s growing like it’s supposed to.”

“Oh!” The most deliriously happy moment she’d known in months made Zanna clap her hands together.

Mamm hopped up from her chair to hug her, laughing, rocking her from side to side. “Best news I’ve heard for days! It’s always a big moment, no matter how many children come along.” Her blue eyes shone as she smiled; her happiness made her look downright girlish again.

Zanna grabbed the nearest sandwich and unwrapped it. Ravenous, she raised it to her lips—but then she smiled at her mother and they bowed their heads.
Lord, I thank You for this happy moment. And for bringing my mother here, like You knew I needed her today.

After Mamm opened her eyes, she took such a big bite of her sandwich, the melted cheese gushed out. It plopped onto her apron, yet she giggled hysterically. Zanna caught the giggle bug, too, and for the next few minutes they chewed and covered their mouths and laughed until tears streamed from their eyes.

“Ach, child, you were always the one,” Mamm said when she could string the words together. “With your older sisters, Irene and Louise, I was so set on getting everything right, doing things just so for your dat—proving myself as a young wife, you know. And then along came Sam and Abby, and I had more children than I had hands to hold onto them. And then,” she continued with a teasing smile, “there was you.”

Zanna paused with her sandwich near her mouth. “Always trouble, was I?”

Mamm squeezed Zanna’s knee. “It must have felt that way, all the times we kept after you to sit quiet in church and sent you to your room for smarting off. But you know what?”

Mamm swiped at a tear left over from their giggling spree. “You turned out to be the child who made me let go of trying to be perfect, Zanna. You made my heart skip rope to hot peppers and then jump out of the playground swing when I was flying higher than I was supposed to. Even on days when nothing was going right, I could laugh and go on—because of you, Suzanna.”

Zanna sat absolutely still, amazed by what Mamm had just said. Was this her own mother talking?

“And don’t you forget I said that, either, when I seem all cross and bothered.” Mamm smiled, dabbing at the gooey yellow cheese on her apron. “But don’t you tell Sam and Abby I’ve said that about you! They think Dat and I let you get away with too much when you were little—and they’d be jealous as all get out, hearing me carry on this way.”

Zanna smiled, just as the baby tickled her insides again. “Jah,” she murmured, still grinning. “We shouldn’t make them covet the way you’ve spoiled me, Mamm—as though you love me best. Can’t have them breaking the Tenth Commandment on
my
account, can we?”

A
week later, when Abby returned from delivering Eunice and Merle’s new clothes, she glanced into the back room of the mercantile, where huge bags of flour, rolled oats, and other staples were stacked on the shelves. Her younger sister sat at the table with a scale, surrounded by dozens of small baggies full of nonpareils, sanding sugars, and candy sprinkles in a wild array of colors. Abby loved to fill and label those little bags, as it lifted her spirits to work with the bright yellows, greens, pinks, and reds—made it feel like Christmas was right around the corner, to work with toppings that looked like holly berries and snowflakes and tiny stars. Zanna had volunteered for this job, and that was a step in a positive direction.

“Are you doing all right with those sprinkles, Zanna?”

“I’ve got a few more labels to stick on, and then I’ll put them on the shelves.” Zanna popped a pretzel-shaped cookie into her mouth. “I’ve got to head home to make supper soon, though. These cute little graham crackers won’t hold me for long.”

“Leave whenever you want, sis. You’ve been hard at it all afternoon.” Abby looked around the main room of the mercantile for their brother. She waved at Merle Graber as he followed Eunice past the
refrigerated cases with a shopping cart… saw Beulah Mae stocking up on supplies for Mrs. Nissley’s Kitchen. “I might stay longer, while Sam checks in more boxes off the truck,” Abby remarked to her sister. “This cold snap’s bringing lots of folks into the store.”

The bell on the front door jangled as Adah Ropp came in, looking flustered as she grabbed a shopping cart. “We’re in for a blizzard tonight,” she announced. “The television at the Clearwater Cafe was saying five or six inches, with a winter weather advisory through the weekend.” Adah hurried down the first aisle and tossed packages of macaroni and rice into her cart as though sleet were already nipping at her sturdy black heels. “Gut thing I worked at the cheese store today or I wouldn’t have known to stock up. I might not make it in to work tomorrow—”

“And there again,” Sam chimed in with a chuckle, “we might see nary a flake! Seems to me television gets folks all riled up by constantly repeating weather predictions that are about half right. I’ll stick to the almanac, thanks,” he added as he set out the last of the new snow shovels.

“I’m with you, Sam!” Merle said from the candy aisle. “Got plenty of achy joints to tell me the weather’s a-changin’. No need for a TV.”

Eunice’s head had bobbed as she followed this conversation from aisle to aisle. She pushed up her thick glasses. “Nothing gut comes of watching TV, Adah,” she declared from halfway across the store. “Maybe your boys would have stayed on the farm if you hadn’t taken up English ways.”

Over in the bulk cereal section, Beulah Mae Nissley hefted a big bag of egg noodles into her cart with a decisive nod of her head. “Could be James would be settled in with his bride by now if you’d applied a firmer hand to Jonny’s backside—and stayed home to raise him, Adah. Nothing gut’s to be gained by going against the Old Ways.”

Abby stood aghast, stock-still beside the storeroom door. Was the
change in the weather making these women bicker from different parts of the store? Or had last month’s gossip at church, squelched by the bishop, finally popped a seam to spew out? Abby glanced at Zanna, who still sat at the storeroom table but was nearly ready to stock shelves… unaware of how the talk was heating up among Cedar Creek’s more outspoken neighbors. What a shame if her sister walked into the middle of this conversation, now that she’d acquired a more responsible, happier frame of mind.

“And who are
you
to tell me this, Mrs. Nissley?” Adah’s sharp reply rang out. “You’ve been running your business on the highway, depending on English tourists for years!”

“Using gas ovens and deep freezes, too, so I’m not on the electrical grid like those Mennonite cheesemakers,” the bakery owner shot back. “Walking to work, not three minutes away from what my kids were doing while they still lived at home, instead of driving to another town. And let’s not forget—”

“Adah! Beulah Mae—please, let’s not bicker,” Abby spoke above their squabbling.

“—that my pies and breads and carryout lunches also bring folks to other businesses here in Cedar Creek,” Beulah Mae continued in a rising voice. “Which means
my
day’s work doesn’t contribute to another town’s prosperity!”

“Let’s cool your tongues, ladies,” Sam warned. While he sounded calm and in control, his voice carried to every corner of the store. “I didn’t make my remark about weather forecasting to spark such a hot conversation.”

“You’re a fine one to talk, Sam Lambright!” Adah stopped her cart not five feet from Abby, pointing her finger toward the storeroom. “Letting your sister work here when she’s under the ban. And her carrying a baby while she’s unmarried, too.
She’s
the root of this whole conversation, ain’t so? Had she left my Jonny alone and been faithful to James, we’d none of us be talking this way!”

Abby’s face went hot and then she turned. Zanna had just come
out, holding a shallow box stacked with bags of sanding sugar. Her flushed cheeks and shaking arms announced her agitated state, and she looked ready to blurt out a retort.

“Has anyone else here never made a mistake?” Abby asked pointedly. “Or never confessed to a preacher or at a Members’ Meeting? We’re supposed to be setting an example of compassion and forgiveness for Zanna.”

A whimper rose above their heated conversation. With a
whump!
the box of baking sprinkles hit the plank floor, and Zanna raced down the nearest aisle, awkwardly dodging a cluster of English ladies before she ran out the front door.

So much for her attempt at peacemaking. Abby grabbed the front end of Adah Ropp’s grocery cart, wishing she could take everyone back a mere two minutes, to when they were all shopping before they went home to dinner with their families. Sam strode purposefully toward Mrs. Nissley’s cart, and then motioned for Adah to join them at the checkout.

The mercantile got very quiet. Abby released Mrs. Ropp’s cart, happy to let Sam deal with this situation, as the male in charge—not that their neighbors’ opinions of Zanna would improve any time soon. She went to where the box of toppings had landed, and then fetched a broom from the storeroom. Not many bags had spilled, but it was a mess no one should walk in.

“It’s not just a matter of how our English customers will perceive this sort of behavior,” Sam said in a low voice as he totaled Beulah Mae Nissley’s order. “It’s the rift I see getting wider, right here amongst us Plain folk. There needs to be a whole lot of thinking about our own shortcomings, and more forgiveness toward those who are struggling to make gut on their past mistakes.”