Ephraim sat next to Miriam as she hand-stitched the binding on Susie’s baby quilt by the light of a lantern. “What do you think about getting married next November?” he said.
Miriam looked up from her sewing as a dull ache settled into her stomach. Ephraim wanted to move so fast. Next November was too soon.
She stuck a pin in the cushion bracelet around her wrist. Six months ago she would have jumped at the chance to move her wedding up a year. Now, something didn’t feel right.
She gave him a half smile. “Two years from now. I haven’t worked for most of the winter. Surely you can see the wisdom in waiting until we both have more saved up. Bishop Schwartz would approve of that plan.”
“There are other ways to get money. You could make quilts to sell.”
“Jah, of course.”
“What about the foal at Matthew Eicher’s? Your dat bought her as a wedding present. I am sure he wouldn’t care if we sold it.”
“That is not funny, Ephraim.”
He took the quilt from her hands and laid it next to him on the sofa. Then he raised his eyebrows and willed her to make eye contact. “I am not joking. You know how I feel about this. Girls riding horses should not be allowed.”
Miriam furrowed her brow. “Both Bishop Schwartz and my dat say it is okay.”
“But many districts in other areas do not. Besides, when we marry, you will be too busy with kinner and such to ride. And we will get more money for it if we sell it now.”
“I could not think of selling it.”
Ephraim stuck out his bottom lip. “ ‘For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women.’”
“You are irresistible when you pout,” Miriam said. “But this time you will not get your way. And I have both bishops on my side.”
“It is discouraging to think that anytime my wife wants to win an argument, she can invoke the name of the bishop who will always take her side.”
“Discouraging for you.” Miriam giggled. She reached over Ephraim and picked up her sewing.
Susie’s quilt was a Cornerstone design made from navy and deep purple squares. Once she completed the binding, Miriam would finish Ephraim’s quilt. Overjoyed that she hadn’t thrown the squares away, she planned on putting it together this week and next in time to give it to him for his birthday, December sixteenth.
She thought of Seth’s quilt and wondered what had become of it. The familiar twinge of sadness pricked her heart. She had thought that with time her sorrow over Seth would lessen, but the pain seemed to intensify every time she thought of him. Was he eating well? Freezing to death in his stable? How many days before he moved into his unfinished house? At least then he would be warmer than when sleeping in his stable.
Ephraim studied her expression and his lips formed a rigid line. “You’re thinking of him again, aren’t you?”
“Who?”
“The horse boy. You had that look the day I got you from his farm.”
“He was a gute friend to me when I had no other friends. I have not been as gute a friend.”
“When we broke up, like as not you latched on to the first person who was nice to you. If you and I had been together, you wouldn’t have been friends with him. You need not search elsewhere to find love.” He put a hand to his heart. “All you need is right here.”
* * * * *
Ach, the breeze blew bitter-cold today. Miriam had bundled up in her heavy black coat with a long wool scarf covering her head and tucked in at the chin, but gloves were no gute when hanging laundry. They got wet and froze solid and made it impossible to maneuver the clothespins. With stiff fingers, she worked as quickly as possible to get the rest of the wash hung. In the winter, it didn’t really dry. It froze. Then they would bring it into the house and thaw it out before folding it.
With the last shirt secured on the line, Miriam picked up her basket and made a beeline for the back door, hoping she didn’t have to venture out for the rest of the day.
Susie stood at the cookstove tending a pot of soup. She spent most of her day at the main house, especially if Hollow was at work. Her time was close at hand. Yesterday Mamm had declared that the baby had dropped and would be coming any day now. Susie thought she still had at least two weeks.
“Oh,” Susie said as Miriam blew through the door. “She just left. I didn’t know where you were.”
“Who just left?”
“Laura Lambright. She is back from school for a few days. She left a package for you, and I gave her the doll. You could probably still catch her. She walked out less than a minute before you came in.”
Miriam deposited her basket on the table and ran out the front door. It took her a moment to realize that the young woman walking down the lane was Laura. She wore a lime-green coat, blue jeans, and midcalf lace-up boots. Her jeans were tucked into her boots, and she looked quite sophisticated.
“Laura! Wait.”
Laura turned around. Her black hair fell around her face and brushed her shoulders. In her arms, she carried the doll that Priscilla had given Miriam.
Miriam cut through the snow. “Laura, it is so gute to see you. Do you have time to come in and sit?”
Laura didn’t reply. She looked like a schoolteacher who had lost patience with a scholar. Miriam’s uneasiness grew. She had been unsure of Laura when they first met, but they had grown to care for each other a great deal. Now an invisible ten-foot wall stood between them.
Miriam glanced at the doll cradled in the crook of Laura’s elbow. “Does Priscilla want her doll back?”
“It is very special to Scilla. Someone who doesn’t care about it shouldn’t think she has a right to have it.”
Miriam tried to ignore the hurt that grew inside her, as well as the nagging feeling that she deserved every word. “I do care about it. Priscilla gave it to me when I was very low. Her sacrifice was the sign of a true friend.”
“She gave it to you after Ephraim embarrassed you that night at the gathering. So you don’t really need it anymore.”
“I—I guess not.”
“I brought your quilt back. Seth doesn’t need it anymore.”
Miriam felt dizzy. “He gave it back?”
Bitterness tinged Laura’s words. “He doesn’t even know I took it. It was stuffed in the top of his closet at home. He doesn’t need to be reminded of you every time he sees it. You’ve hurt him enough, don’t you think?”
Mutinous tears stung Miriam’s eyes. “How is he?”
“Seth does not want your pity.”
Miriam remembered one of the first conversations she and Seth had.
“I hope I am past my own pity, but I cannot abide yours.”
Laura pursed her lips, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Tell me something. Why did you push yourself into our lives like that? Were we the only ones who were nice to you after Yost’s arrest? Or were we a charity project? Did you want Seth to feel blessed that you paid attention to him?”
“Nae, you are my friends. My true friends.”
Laura laughed, but there was no happiness in it. “This is why, before you, Seth hadn’t so much as looked at a girl since Mamm’s death. He thinks people will always disappoint him. And you have proved him right. I haven’t ever seen him this bad, even when Mamm died. He won’t eat, he won’t sleep, and he doesn’t put two words together to save his life. He spends hours at the stable trying to work himself to death.”
Miriam wanted to apologize, to express concern, to be Laura’s friend, but she didn’t know how to do it without being accused of pity. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say.
“The last thing Seth needs is for you to feel sorry for him. Go have a perfect life with your perfect boyfriend. It’s exactly what you deserve.” With the doll still firmly in her arm, she turned her back on Miriam and trudged away in the deep snow.
Miriam’s legs felt like rubber as she silently mourned the death of another friendship.
Laura was wrong. Miriam didn’t feel sorry for Seth. She felt sorry for herself.
* * * * *
“I will be back to get you after group therapy,” Yost said. He stopped the buggy in front of Ephraim’s house. “Will that give you enough time yet?”
“Plenty. We are eating supper and having cake.” Miriam anxiously fingered the corners of the box in her lap.
“He will like it, Miriam,” Yost said. “Your quilts are famous.”
“Ach, not famous.” She fluffed the bow on top for the tenth time. “I am afraid he will think it is too fancy.”
“Seth…Seth loved his quilt.”
“He gave it back.”
Yost turned pale. “Miriam, I think I have made a terrible mistake.”
Miriam narrowed her eyes and prepared herself for whatever Yost had to confess. “What happened?”
“I visited Ephraim and asked him to give you another chance. Three times. I thought it was the right thing.”
“It is all right. Ephraim told me.”
“I hoped being back together with Ephraim would make you happy, but it hasn’t. You act as if the sun will never shine again.”
The hollow space in Miriam’s chest grew bigger. “Things with Ephraim will get better. They are new yet. So much has changed since the summer. I think I seem sad because—”
“Because Seth loves you.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Anyone can see it plain enough.”
Miriam rubbed her forehead. “I miss him. He is the only person who ever seemed interested in what I had to say.”
Yost waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve been to group therapy. You can pay someone to listen to you.”
“You are right. It is selfish to think of him like that. I like being with him, and he liked being with me. He was my friend.”
“Maybe you love him.”
Miriam couldn’t focus on Yost hard enough to make sense of that comment. Right now she was working on loving Ephraim. It wouldn’t be fair to him to think on another boy. Even Seth. With no idea how to respond to her brother, she jumped out of the buggy.
“I don’t want you to pay for my mistake for the rest of your life,” Yost said.
“You have done nothing wrong. I am grateful that you cared enough about me to try with Ephraim. It must have been humiliating.”
“It was.”
Miriam blew her brother a kiss and trudged up the path to Ephraim’s house with a nagging feeling that Ephraim wasn’t going to like her quilt. She’d chosen the yellow and burgundy to brighten up the drab tan, but somewhere deep in her heart, she harbored a bit of spite that day for his rejection of the fabric she wanted to buy. If he didn’t appreciate the quilt, it would be her own fault.
Ephraim threw open the door before she even knocked. “Presents! More presents.” He took the box from Miriam and laid it on the table next to his plate.
“Welcome,” Ephraim’s mamm called while pulling a pan of hot rolls from the cookstove. “We are almost ready for supper, if these boys would wash up.”
“Gute day?” Miriam said to Ephraim.
“Mamm made me German apple pancakes for breakfast, and Dat gave me some cash.” He leaned close to Miriam’s ear. “A hundred dollars to add to our wedding savings.” He winked and smiled.
Knowing what Ephraim expected of her, Miriam smiled back.
“I want to take him camping for his birthday,” Freeman said.
Ephraim shook his head. “Winter camping? No, thank you. Too cold.”
“Nae,” Freeman said. “There is a wonderful-gute spot at Baker’s Lake. A place where the boulders almost form a cave. It is sheltered and nobody can find it unless they know exactly where it is.”
Ephraim glanced at Miriam. “It doesn’t matter where it is. You are not right in the head to think that sounds fun in the winter.”
Ephraim’s mamm placed the steaming rolls on the table. “Wash up, or you’ll get no pudding.”
She must have spent all day cooking. In addition to fresh rolls, there were candied yams, corn, pork chops, pickled cucumbers, and pudding in individual bowls with whipped cream on top.
At supper, the four boys were loud and obnoxious, but no one got the wooden spoon. Nothing would be allowed to dampen the mood of the festive evening.
Before he started in on the pudding, Freeman said, “Open your present, Ephraim. I want to see what Miriam got you.”
Miriam’s heart beat faster. Ephraim’s dat was more conservative than Ephraim was. Would any of the family like it?
Ephraim scooted his chair from the table and reached under his seat, where he had deposited Miriam’s gift. Miriam ignored the breathless feeling that came over her.
“For me?” Ephraim teased as he lifted the quilt from the box.
“Hold it up,” his mamm said.
Ephraim spread the quilt and held it high so his family could look at it. She had designed each Nine-Patch either burgundy-and-tan or yellow-and-tan. The patterned squares alternated with the plain tan that Miriam thought gave it a simple charm.
“That is quite an eyeful,” Ephraim’s dat said.
“A Nine-Patch. How pretty.” His mamm grabbed one corner and examined the stitching. “Look at how she stitched the squares. A small heart in the middle of each one.”
Ephraim shaped his lips into a funny little twist. “Men don’t notice things like that, Mamm. But I like the tan. I picked it out myself, you know.”
Miriam’s throat sank to her toes. Ephraim’s tempered enthusiasm was obvious.
“It has the perfect country look to it,” his mamm said. “That is the kind of quilt that tourists are looking for. Very typical Amish. And skillfully stitched, Miriam.”
Ephraim studied his mamm’s face, and Miriam could see the wheels in his head turning. He folded the quilt in his lap and ran his fingers over the stitches. In a matter of seconds, he seemed to like it better. “It must have taken you hours.”
“Susie helped me with the quilting even though her time is almost at hand.”
Ephraim cleared his throat. “Thank you. This is a fine birthday gift. Now I am doubly curious to see what you will bring me for Christmas.”
Since it was Ephraim’s birthday, he got to pick the after-supper game. Miriam hated his favorite game, “Life on the Farm,” but she feigned enthusiasm. Besides, Yost would be here soon and save her from having to play a whole game that could last for hours. She glanced out the window as they sat down to play in hopes that simply watching for him would inspire Yost to hurry up.