The normal suppertime chatter left Grace feeling as limp as wilted celery. Finally she asked whether Adam and Joe might be able to chop down the kudzu vine. “Or is that something that’s s’posed to be reported to the authorities?”
“Keep ’em out of our neck of the woods,” Dawdi Jakob piped up. “Outsiders are nothin’ but trouble.”
All eyes turned to look down the table at him. Even Mammi Adah’s eyes were wide.
“I thought as much,” Grace said, reaching for the salt and pepper. “Least I warned you. That little woodshed is goin’ to up and disappear mighty quick.”
“By next week?” Joe asked, his smile stretching across his face. “Can it wait that long?”
“You better just go and see for yourself,” she teased him. She glanced at Dat—her father was quieter than usual, and no wonder. She’d spoken out of turn in her impatience to find Mamma.
Before the Bann falls and crushes us all.
Now she couldn’t help but wonder if what her grandparents had said about Dat and Mamma might just be true.
As the whoopie pies were cooling, Becky asked Heather, “Would ya like to have supper with us?” Her soft brown eyes were hopeful.
“Thanks, but I’d better not.”
Becky tilted her head
.
“Are ya sure? I made tapioca pudding. Thought it might go down easy.”
Go down easy?
Did Becky suspect she was having trouble digesting her food? The Amish girl was so thoughtful, she hated to refuse her.
“I think you’d like Becky’s pudding,” Marian put in.
How healthy is tapioca pudding?
Heather wondered. She felt she ought to accept, if for no reason other than to appease Becky. And anyway, she’d been pretty good food-wise this afternoon. “All right . . . I can’t pass up the pudding.” She looked at Marian. “Feel free to add the meal to my weekly bill.”
“No need for that.” Marian shook her head. “Anytime you want to eat dinner or supper with us, just feel free.”
“Mamma likes lots of folk at her table.” Becky grinned. “Have you decided which is your favorite flavor of whoopie pie?” She referred to the nibbling they’d done while making the rich dessert.
Heather smiled back. “It’s a tie between chocolate and pumpkin, I think.” With tapioca pudding in the offing and the taste of whoopie pie still in her mouth, she felt guilty.
How can
I possibly pull off LaVyrle’s plan for my diet?
Marian and Becky encouraged her to get some fresh air, nearly shooing her out for a quick walk while they put the finishing touches on a ham and scalloped potatoes dinner. She was halfway down the lane when she saw Grace Byler, walking barefoot along the roadside.
“Heather, hullo!” Grace’s cheeks were rosy red as she smiled at her.
“Hello again.”
“Awful nice day, ain’t?”
Heather agreed. “You have the most perfect springtime weather.”
“Well, we could use some more rain, for sure.” Grace looked toward the Riehls’ house. “Is Becky home yet?”
“Yeah. We just finished making several dozen whoopie pies.”
“Sounds like I’ve timed my visit perfectly, then.”
“No kidding. But watch out—they’re addictive.” For a fleeting moment she thought of asking Grace whom Becky’s sisters might’ve been referring to earlier this afternoon—a Lettie Byler. But Grace seemed anxious to see Becky, and Heather didn’t want to hold her up. “Well, I’d better walk off those whoopie calories!”
“I know what you mean.” Grace headed on toward the house with a bright smile and cheerful wave. “Good-bye.”
Heather nodded and continued toward the road, wondering why Grace seemed so consistently happy.
Is the Plain life really
so carefree?
Much as she enjoyed Heather’s company, Grace was set on visiting Becky. Her friend’s reaction to seeing Yonnie next to her in Martin’s van had plagued her all afternoon, and Grace hoped the tension between herself and Becky could be talked away.
Oh, I hope so!
Taking a deep breath, she rapped on the screen door instead of walking in as she often did. Marian called to her—“Come on in, Gracie”—before Becky even turned to acknowledge her from across the kitchen. “Come have a whoopie pie before supper,” Marian said, a smudge of chocolate on her dress sleeve.
“Denki, but we’ve already eaten,” Grace said as she opened the screen door. Truth was, snacks of any kind were the last thing she wanted as she looked at Becky’s sour face. She bit her lip, wondering how she’d ever get the chance to talk to her friend alone, what with Marian’s ongoing cleanup and supper preparations. Grace looked for a way to assist, going to the counter and reaching for a dirty cookie sheet. “Can I help redd up, maybe?”
“Oh, would ya mind?” Marian removed her soiled apron. “Someone needs to get to the hen house and gather eggs.” And just that quick, she was heading for the back door, her bare feet padding across the floor.
Becky ran the hot water at the sink, her back stiffly turned.
“I can’t stay long,” Grace said. “Mandy’s doin’ dishes, and I need to get back soon. Here lately I’ve missed one too many cleanups.”
Still facing the wall behind the sink, Becky nodded.
“I know you’re upset,” Grace said immediately, afraid she’d lose heart. “But I hope you can understand what happened today.”
“Wasn’t it obvious?” came Becky’s terse reply.
“I had nothin’ to do with it, Becky. Honestly.”
“But still . . .”
“Can’t we talk about this?”
“Well, what’re we doin’?” her friend snapped.
Feeling more dismal by the moment, Grace was at a loss for words.
Now what?
“I’d prefer not to discuss Yonnie Bontrager ever again,” Becky retorted. She began to scrub the mixing bowls. “If he wants to court you, then so be it.”
“Ach, Becky . . . no.”
“Well, why do you think he sat next to you in the van? You’d have to be blind or dense or both—”
“No need to raise your voice. We’re best friends.”
“Jah . . . sorry.” Becky’s voice softened.
“We can talk sensibly ’bout this, ain’t? After all, Yonnie was just catching a ride home . . . it’s not like he went off with me to Eli’s to buy groceries.”
“He should’ve sat up front with Martin Puckett in any case.”
Grace reached for the tea towel. “I don’t want a boy comin’ between us.”
It was quiet in the kitchen for the longest time, and Grace wasn’t sure what Becky would say. At last her friend turned, her face sad. “It’s my fault for actin’ the way I did. I shouldn’t have snubbed you in the van or at the store. Neither one.”
Grace touched her shoulder. “Well, all’s forgiven on my end.”
“You sure?” Becky’s eyes were brimming with tears.
“That’s why I came over. I couldn’t stand to have this awful wedge between us. You’re my dearest friend.”
Becky nodded and rinsed the mixing bowls. She wiped her eyes on the back of her arm and started to say something more but looked away. Once more she glanced at Grace . . . but still she said nothing.
What else is on her mind?
Grace wondered.
Judah patted his stomach as he made his way upstairs, having eaten more than his fill. He’d sensed the strain between Grace and himself during supper. By the stricken look on her face, it seemed the small steps they’d made in their relationship were now nearly for naught. He was, after all, standing in his daughter’s way of finding Lettie. Sighing, he knew he, too, should be considering such a trip, if only because of the brethren’s pointed meeting with him.
I ought to be the one asking Lettie home.
Going straightaway to his room, he closed the door and went to sit in his favorite chair, where he reached for the Bible and turned to the Psalms. Now, in the privacy of this place, Judah was alive to the stillness around him. It was the time of day when he felt closest to God. It had also been his and Lettie’s time alone together, whether they spoke a word or simply lay silently in each other’s arms. Were those days gone forever?
How he’d loved her when first they’d briefly courted. Lettie had made his heart sing in those early days, even though he assumed she still cared deeply for her former beau. Yet Judah had been hopeful she might come to love him with a full measure of tenderness, given time. And he believed that day had come. He’d arrived at the joyful realization soon after Lettie knew she was with child, as together they awaited the birth of Adam. Her face literally shone with affection for Judah all those months and following.
Their first days and weeks as newlyweds had been another matter, though he hadn’t let on what he suspected—that Lettie had given more than her heart away to Samuel. Judah had carried that suspicion and the accompanying sadness—even disappointment—through all the years of their marriage. But never had he broached the subject with Lettie.
Closing the Bible now, he felt an unexpected desire to talk to his wife. He didn’t know if doing so might bring an end to her sadness or whatever had compelled her to leave. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to lift the veil of tears from his house! Judah had heard Grace and Mandy numerous times at night, sniffling and crying and talking quietly down the hall—
probably praying
for Lettie.
He was not blind to the hurts and concern of his children, yet the attitude of Lettie’s parents continued to irk him. Jakob had avoided him like he was contagious ever since Lettie’s leaving . . . rarely coming out to the barn to help, unlike before. It no longer pained Judah; it was downright aggravating. If he wasn’t one to shy away from conflict, he might’ve gone over and sat down with his father-in-law about it. As it was, he had little interest now in putting another ounce of strain on their lives. Or on his own.
Rising from his chair, Judah went to pray silently beside his bed, beseeching the Lord not just for Lettie but also for himself. Then he prayed for his children, that they might not get their hopes too high for their mother’s return. Knowing how stubborn Lettie could be, there was no telling how long she’d choose to wander from hearth and home—or what frame of mind she might be in if she did venture back.
What was she fixing to tell me that final night?
He stared at her pillow, then reached for it and buried his face.
After the evening’s Bible reading, Grace and her sister prayed faithfully for their mother’s safe return in the solitude of Mandy’s bedroom. “We can hardly wait a day longer, dear Lord,” Mandy said, and her words broke Grace’s heart. She reached over and patted her sister’s hand.
“Mamma’s in God’s care, so I trust you’ll rest peacefully tonight.” She wasn’t as sure about herself, recalling Mammi Adah’s troubling words to Dawdi. Since she couldn’t begin to ask Mammi about that, she’d have to entrust it to the Lord, as well.
“Before you head off for bed,” Mandy said with lowered voice, “I have something I want to tell ya, sister.”
By the look of shyness and even joy on Mandy’s round face, surely what she had to say was something wonderful-good. “Jah?”
“Frankly, I’d never think of tellin’ a soul ’cept you,” Mandy began. “You’ve prob’ly seen me with a certain fella lately.”
Grace had observed her with more than a few young men during the past months, but she didn’t want to spoil Mandy’s special moment by speaking.
Mandy’s eyes smiled now, the apples of her cheeks shining. “I’m hopeful that we’ll need to plant plenty of celery this summer, Gracie. Maybe oodles of it.”
For the creamed celery served at a wedding feast!
Goodness, she hadn’t seen
this
coming! Had Mandy fallen in love nearly at first sight? Usually girls rarely told sisters or close cousins such things until they were certain. “You hope to be engaged soon . . . like Adam and Priscilla?”
“It’s not for sure.” Mandy blinked her big brown eyes. “But I know he cares for me, and I’m so happy, Gracie.”
“Oh, sister” was all she could say. Grace leaned across the bed and cupped Mandy’s face in her hands.
We must get Mamma
home quickly.
She wondered how her sister would feel if their mother wasn’t there for her wedding. As for herself, she couldn’t imagine such a day without Mamma on hand.
Mandy hugged her tight, and Grace whispered, “Wait, now, I have something for ya.” She hurried off to her room.
Opening her dresser drawer, she pulled out Mamma’s white hankie. She’d hand-washed it and pressed it with her iron.
Mamma would want Mandy to have this,
she thought, going back to her sister’s room.
“What’s in your hand?” Mandy asked, eyes wide.
“I found this in the cornfield recently.” She gave it to Mandy. “It’s Mamma’s.”
“Oh, Gracie . . .”
“Carry it on your wedding day . . . whenever that may come.”
Mandy held the pretty little hankie next to her cheek just as Grace had when she’d first found it. For a moment, Mandy could not speak for her tears. “Having this . . . gives me hope,” she whispered. “You just don’t know.”
Jah, hope.
Grace knew all about that.
Twitchy and unable to sleep, Grace rose from her bed, dressed, and slipped outside to breathe in the fresh, sweet air. Dark as it was, she found comfort in the faint light of a waning moon as Adam’s earlier words—hurtful as they were—rang in her head. She considered all the nights Mamma had left the house to go walking in the cornfield.
I understand better now.
She found herself strolling along the road, something she’d never think of doing during the daytime. But this late, there was seldom a speck of traffic. Swinging her arms, she took deep breaths, holding them for five counts and then exhaling. No one had ever told her to do this, but in the past she’d discovered it helped remove the cobwebs from her brain. Helped her face her fears, too.
Adam’s unexpected report had made her think twice. Not before he’d talked so outspokenly had she cared one iota about marriage. But now, knowing what the fellows were saying—or what Prissy
said
they were saying—she wondered if she should be concerned. Was it a blight on her as a woman to remain single? Adam had more than hinted that she’d come to despise being a Maidel. But wasn’t it far better to live out her life taking care of the family she already had than to make a bad match out of desperation? She certainly did not appreciate Prissy or Adam, neither one, pronouncing what was going to become of her! No, in her heart she was sure she could only marry for love.