Abby Finds Her Calling (24 page)

“It’s the stuffing,” Phoebe declared. She and Gail stirred dried bread cubes into the Dutch oven, where they’d simmered chopped celery and onions. “Why don’t we make this for every day, instead of just for turkey and filling pork chops now and again?”

“That’s what keeps stuffing special. It’s not like we ever go hungry, you know.” Barbara emptied two quart jars of green beans into a glass casserole dish. “Me, I’m just thankful Abby made the pumpkin pies. What with checking on Marian Byler, I ran short of time yesterday—and nobody else makes pumpkin pie as spicy and tasty as Abby’s.”

“And how’s Marian’s baby, then? Home from the hospital, I hope?” Abby asked.

Barbara added a quart of drained tomatoes and spoonfuls of Italian seasonings with the green beans and then stirred them all together. “Elizabeth’s as perky as you please,” she said, shaking her head. “Marian’s another story, grieving the one she lost. The doctors agreed there was nothing we could have done—that Elizabeth’s cord cut off Esther’s oxygen for too long before we knew about it. It would’ve been a hardship had she lived, on account of the brain damage. But it’s a sad story no matter how you look at it.”

“Can’t wait to see them later today. They’re calling her Bessie!” Ruthie piped up.

Even with that cheerful remark, a cloud hung in the kitchen for a moment. Zanna stirred the homemade noodles, maybe a little faster than she had to. “It’s got to be hard, carrying babies to term, hoping and dreaming for them—”

“Suzanna, there’s no call to worry yourself,” Mamm insisted gently. “Your baby will be just fine. You come from hardy stock—just look around you.”

“And like we talked about,” Abby reminded her, “it’s not like you’re doing this all by yourself. We’ll get you through it, little sister.”

Happier chatter resumed then, as slices of acorn squash went into the oven beneath a huge turkey. In the other oven, a duck roasted in a blue enamel pan, and Mamm flipped it expertly with a spatula and a meat fork so the skin would get crispy. “Awful nice of Carl Byler to dress this bird for you, Barbara. He’s certainly had other things on his mind.”

“He said it was the least he could do for me.” Barbara sprinkled shredded mozzarella over the bean casserole, covered it, and then stuck it on the rack under the duck. “We’ll put half of that duck and some turkey aside, to take over later. They won’t have much dinner on their table after Carl’s family goes home to Ohio tomorrow.”

By the time Matt and Sam came in from the sheep chores, the meal was nearly ready. In from the porch came a bowl of cranberry sauce that glimmered like a ruby, along with the apple-walnut salad Dat had always loved. The fridge had been too full to hold those two dishes.

“It’s a wonder the table doesn’t collapse,” Matt proclaimed after they’d prayed. And because he’d said it in just the way his dawdi had, for as many years as they could recall, everyone fell silent in remembrance.

“Jah, Leroy’s right here with us,” Mamm said in a voice that quivered a bit. “He wouldn’t be missing a Thanksgiving dinner. And he wouldn’t want us getting all teary-eyed, either. Start that turkey around, son.”

As their plates filled and then their stomachs, Abby savored the talk as much as the sage stuffing; she laughed until she shook at Ruthie’s account of ice skating with the wobbly-legged Detweiler girls. All around the long table, the faces she loved most glowed with goodwill, not to mention the glory of having three kinds of dessert. Mamm’s gooseberry pie suited those with a taste for tartness, while Matt raved over the apple-raisin crisp Phoebe had baked. When they could hold no more, however, it was Abby’s pumpkin pie pan that had nothing but a few crust crumbs left in it.

“Sure thankful you brought another one of those, Abby,” Sam said as he pushed himself away from the table. “I can’t do it justice yet, what with sampling the other two sweets. I’m saving my favorite for later.”

Abby beamed. What a wonderful meal! Even though it was a few days before Zanna’s shunning ended, Sam had put away the separate table before they’d arrived, and Zanna sat with the rest of them. No one had mentioned any gossip the neighbors were spreading about her, either, so their conversation had been pleasant. With all of the women and girls helping, washing dishes and redding up the kitchen went quickly.

“We’re going for a quick check on the Bylers,” Barbara reminded Sam, while Mamm wrapped up generous portions of their meal to take along. Sam and Matt talked of driving over to see cousins north of Bloomingdale after the women returned.

Zanna smiled shyly. “Abby’s taking me to deliver Adah Ropp’s rug. We’re hoping nobody will see that as a violation of my ban, what with only a few days left of it.”

“It’s a generous gesture,” Barbara confirmed. “I’ve got to think Adah misses her boys most of all on the holidays. And such a lovely rug will surely convince her you wish her the best.”

“That’s the idea,” Abby said. “She can’t fault us for having gut intentions, anyway.” As they said their good-byes and then walked over to fetch the rug from Abby’s house, she smiled at her younger sister. “Are you feeling all right about this visit? Seems to me you’ve come a long way in the six weeks since you let out Jonny’s name.”

“It’ll be fine.” Zanna’s black bonnet concealed her expression as she hunkered down against the cold wind.

“It’ll be easier to do this and not have it on your mind anymore,” Abby remarked gently. “And what can Adah possibly say but gut things? She’s getting a finer rug than I would have made her—and I’m not just saying that, either.”

“I’m glad you’re going along, Abby. In case I trip over my tongue.”

“It’ll go fine. Maggie and Becky will be glad we stopped by, too.” Abby headed toward the stable to hitch up a horse. “Think of it as spreading sunshine where it’s needed most. Put on your cheeriest smile, sister, and I’ll see you in a few.”

They were rolling down the road shortly, huddled together in a buggy beneath a heavy blanket so the rest of the family could use the closed carriages. Abby smiled despite the wind that nipped at her cheeks. The world looked like a picture postcard: smooth, perfect snow blanketed the pastures, and the evergreens wore special dresses of white lace. A cardinal warbled above them, and from across the road came a reply.

As they drove over the Ropps’ cattle guard, their wheels rattling on its frozen steel pipes, a grizzled German shepherd woofed at them. This raised the alarm for two beagles to run from the barn, baying as though the sky were falling. Folks joked about Rudy Ropp’s four-footed security system, but out here where there wasn’t another farmstead in sight—near a highway that carried a lot of traffic over the Missouri-Iowa line—it was wise to have such noisy greeters.

When Abby caught sight of Adah’s face at the front window, she waved, her heart beating faster. “Since we won’t be staying all that long,” she murmured to her sister, “we’ll leave Tucker hitched.”

Nodding, Zanna eased down from her side of the buggy. Abby was about to shoo the barking dogs when the Ropp girls stepped out onto the porch, grinning. “Happy Thanksgiving!” Maggie called out.

“Jah, Mamm’s hoping you brought her new rug,” Becky chimed in. “I dropped a cherry pie on the old one—”

“Upside down!” her little sister added gleefully.

“—so now it’s out in the barn for the dogs.”

Adah stuck her head out the door and waved. “Don’t keep them out here in the cold with your chatter, girls! Bring them on in.”

Zanna clutched the rug, wrapped in a long plastic bag, as though using it for a shield. She climbed the uneven wooden steps and went into the kitchen, with Abby right behind her. Leftovers from the holiday meal cooled on the countertops. It was a cozy room but in need of fresh paint, and the gingham curtains above the sink were streaked where the sun had faded them.

Adah seemed genuinely pleased to see them, but she raised a finger to her lips. “Rudy’s snoozing after his big dinner,” she murmured. “Early as he gets up of a morning, it’s best to let him nap when he can. We’ll visit here in the kitchen.”

Abby nodded as the girls took their coats and pulled out kitchen chairs for them.

“Shall I brew up some tea?” their hostess asked. She paused, gazing
at Zanna. “It’s gut to see the both of you. I’m guessing that’s the rag rug I asked for a while back?”

“Jah.” Zanna grinned timidly before handing her the long roll. “Abby asked me to make it, what with the time I’ve been spending at home—”

“And look at all the colors!” Maggie cried when her mother unrolled it. “Better keep Becky and her cherry pies away from this one.”

“Almost a shame to put it on the floor.” Adah held the oval rug close to study it. “Such nice even stitches, too. The crocheted kind holds together so much better than—”

Rudy Ropp cleared his throat noisily, scowling at them from the doorway. “You can’t accept that rug, Adah. And you know quite well
why.
” His hair stood up on one side, but there was nothing sleepy about those eyes; they bored right into Zanna, as though he were looking straight through to her soul and believed the worst about her.

Abby cleared her throat. “Gut afternoon, Rudy. This would be the rug Adah ordered from me several weeks ago, so—”

“But Zanna made it. And Zanna’s handing it over to her,” Rudy interrupted, “and we’re not to take anything from the hand of one who’s been shunned. Considering her circumstances, and who she claims fathered that baby, I’ll have nothing she’s touched coming into my house. Not even if she’s welcomed back into the fold on Sunday.”

Adah and her girls looked horrified, while Zanna began to tremble. Abby slipped an arm around her sister’s waist. “That’s mighty harsh condemnation, considering how my sister confessed before the membership and has nearly served out her shunning.”

“Jah, I heard that confession,” Rudy replied brusquely. “And, frankly, I don’t believe a word that comes out of her mouth. Anybody who’d betray James Graber and then try to blame her baby on Jonny, after all the wildcatting she did before she took her instruction…”

“That was during her rumspringa, Dat,” Becky mumbled.

“Don’t you talk back to me, daughter!” His words echoed in the low-ceilinged kitchen as his face turned as ruddy as a fall apple. “The brothers you once had never grew out of their running-around phase, and I’m saying Zanna’s a bird of that same feather. Even though she joined the church and went through the motions of confessing.”

Abby’s heart skittered in her chest. She felt awful for poor Adah and the girls. “You’ve got it all wrong about Zanna seeing a lot of fellas before she said her vows. And if you had doubts during that Members’ Meeting, Rudy, you should have said something then.”

“Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do,” he blurted, crossing his burly arms over his large stomach. “You and Adah have too many notions in your fool heads about having your say and doing as you please. And then there’s Zanna,” he added, his voice rising. “Anybody who’s courted as many fellas as she has, batting her big blue eyes at them, has nothing but trouble on her mind!”

“Rudy!” Adah exclaimed. “How can you say—”

“We’ll be going, then. Didn’t mean to disrupt your day.” As Abby slipped into her coat, Zanna hurried out the door without putting hers on. Abby glanced apologetically at Becky and Maggie and then took the rug Adah thrust at her.

“And don’t be telling the bishop he needs to visit again,” Rudy called after them. “Can’t get my cows milked with Vernon chewing his cud at me.”

By the time Abby stepped into the carriage, Zanna had the reins in her hands. Abby let out the breath she’d been holding. “That was the saddest, most awkward—I’m so sorry he said those awful things about you, Zanna. I had no idea that was coming.”

Zanna focused on the snowy road, sitting stiffly and staring straight ahead.

“Do you see now why Jonny and his brother left?” Zanna asked in a choked voice. “If I were Becky and Maggie—and Adah—I’d go to work at the cheese factory one day and never come back. They’re afraid he’ll come after them, though.”

“Jah, that was fear on their faces. The three of them look too scared to leave and too scared to stay.” Abby spread the rug across their laps so she could roll it up. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Zanna. Rudy had no call to—it would be a gut idea for Preacher Paul and Preacher Abe both to go along when Vernon visits again,” she mused aloud. “Surely the bishop realized something wasn’t right, last time he was there.”

Abby put her hand on Zanna’s back and rubbed it. “Would you feel better if we went to see the cousins with Sam and Matt? Might help you get that nasty voice out of your mind.”

Zanna shook her head, looking miserable. “I just want to work on my rug. When my hands are busy and I’m thinking about what color will look best for the next row, I forget about what all’s happened of late.” She looked at Abby, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’m trying to think mostly positive thoughts. They say it’s as important for the baby to feel love and happiness as it is for me to eat healthy foods.”

“Jah, there’s that,” Abby murmured as they approached Lambright Lane. “Every one of us needs to feel loved. Most especially Rudy Ropp, I’m thinking.”