The River (9 page)

M
elvin went back to oiling harnesses once he returned home. It was a rather good thing that Susannah was busying herself, too, inside the house, across the backyard from his shop. The temptation for them to sit and further rehash what had happened over at Daed and Mamm’s was all too strong. Overall, things could have gone better between Daed and Tilly, what with the obvious apprehension from everyone. But Daed’s weakened state had prevented much interaction. Melvin was thankful Sam and Josie had offered to stay around and keep an eye on Daed. Their children, Sammy and Johanna, had been outside playing on the tree swing when Melvin left for home.

Susannah had mentioned during the ride that she thought there had been a slight improvement in Daed’s color and responsiveness after the cup of hawthorn berry tea. Knowing his wife as he did, Melvin trusted her opinion.

Even so, what tomorrow held was a mere guess. Only the heavenly Father knew the end from the beginning. Melvin had learned that he could readily trust that, regardless of the
circumstances. Once again, he committed Daed’s health to the Lord God, then continued to process the week’s orders, wanting to finish prior to the Lord’s Day . . . and the Preaching service over at his brother Allen’s place tomorrow. Ruth had said she would be attending.
Seeing Ruthie in
the house again surely must’ve bolstered Daed’s spirits,
Melvin thought.

Alas, having Tilly there might have had the opposite effect. Melvin was glad Susannah hadn’t commented on that, one way or the other. It was hard enough contemplating the past—Ruth’s departing the area had definitely increased Daed’s anger toward Tilly.

Will he ever forgive
her?

Melvin set aside the harnesses to look in on his sick mule. Thankfully, the vet had made time to check on the animal before Melvin and Susannah had to leave for the anniversary cake and coffee. “Thank the Good Lord for doctors,” he muttered, wishing Daed might come to the same conclusion.

On Melvin’s walk toward the house, he thought he smelled cigar smoke but dismissed it as his imagination.

The day has enough worries of its
own.

“Honestly, do you really want to spend time with the likes of
him
?” Tilly said as she and Ruth rounded the bend toward Uncle Abner’s property. The three-story house loomed over the expanse of fields bursting with field corn ready for harvest, tassels dried to a golden brown.

Ruth hadn’t wanted to, not at first, but curiosity was getting the best of her. What did Will want to say? Apparently, there was something. “I should at least hear him out,” Ruth protested.

“Oh, sister . . .” Tilly exhaled, clearly disappointed. “You pleaded with me in your letters, remember? You needed a way out of here, an escape from Will.”

“But back
then
I had a say about my life. You didn’t
make
me leave Eden Valley.” She shook her head. “Today . . . well, you really should have let me speak to Will.”

Their eyes met. Tilly took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her eyes registered regret. “You know what—you’re right, Ruthie. It really wasn’t my place to speak up back there. I’m sorry.”

Ruth touched Tilly’s arm. “Actually, I think I would’ve done the same if the tables were turned.”

“I’d just like to spare you more heartache.”

She nodded, understanding. “And I love ya for it.”

They had reached Uncle Abner’s. Ruth opened the rasping side gate for Tilly and waited for her to go up the sidewalk first.

“We could find a church to attend together in Strasburg, if you’d like,” Tilly offered. “If that would make things easier.”

She’s still trying
to keep me away from Will.

“You decide,” Tilly surprised her by saying. “Meanwhile, let’s drive over to visit Mammi Lantz. Would you like that?”

Ruth said, “Sure,” and began to ponder the idea of hearing Will out tomorrow, possibly after the Preaching service.

Together, they headed straight for Tilly’s car and left for the short ride.

“I wonder how our grandmother will react to seeing us,” Ruth said as they rode.

“We’ll soon find out.”

Ruth gazed out the window, half hoping they might run into Will again, when they came back this way. Of course, he
wouldn’t realize it was his former sweetheart-girl inside the vibrant red vehicle. Would he?

Mammi’s own parents had once lived in the little
Dawdi Haus
where Mammi Lantz now resided. As was true of all additions built for aging relatives, the new home was much smaller and laid out differently than the main farmhouse next door.

Despite feeling a little disoriented in the space, Tilly was delighted to find her grandmother as warm and affectionate as she’d always been. Soft blue eyes alight, Mammi greeted them with kisses on the cheek and insisted they go and sit in her “cozy room,” as she called her sitting area.

“Would you like some hot apple cider?” Mammi asked in
Deitsch
.

Tilly glanced at Ruth, and they followed their grandmother’s lead and responded in their mother tongue, knowing it would be easier for Mammi.

As Tilly and Ruth sat, Mammi flitted about, opening several drawers near her large treadle sewing machine. It was heartening for Tilly to see the old spool drawers, as well as a tall bureau Dawdi had built. In the corner, there was a small heater stove, too. It was a welcoming room, indeed.

When Mammi seemed to find what she was searching for, she turned and placed two colorfully embroidered hankies each in first Tilly’s hands, and then Ruth’s. On top were wrapped peppermint candies. “Here’s chust a little something to remember me by,” she said, this time in English.

“Aw . . . Mammi, this is so nice of you,” Ruth replied first.
“Denki.”

Tilly thanked her, too, recalling how generous Mammi
Lantz had always been. She wished she’d thought of bringing something for her, too, and just that quick, she remembered the extra wallet-sized pictures of Jenya and Tavani that Kris had stuck in her purse. “Would you like a peek at your twin great-granddaughters?” She reached for her purse.

Mammi poised her tiny spectacles on the bridge of her nose and held the pictures up toward the light. “
Ach
, they look alike to me.”

“They’re identical twins,” Tilly explained. “Not fraternal like our brothers.”

Still scrutinizing the photos, Mammi’s expression grew solemn, and she frowned as she looked at Tilly. “Goodness’ sake, they remind me of your little sister, lost to the river. Ain’t so?”

Tilly’s heart dropped. She’d forgotten Mammi might think so. None of Tilly’s siblings or their spouses had come close to mentioning this at the anniversary celebration. Were they just being kind, not wanting to broach the painful topic?

Tilly felt the wrench in her heart . . . that old sinking feeling that came whenever she thought of Anna’s premature death.
The years away haven’t
healed that wound.

Belatedly, she realized Ruth was talking, pointing out the slightly different shape to Jenya’s mouth. “That’s how I’ve been able to tell them apart,” she said, evidently trying to move the conversation away from Anna.

“Yes, and Tavani’s hair is just a touch more wheat colored than Jenya’s,” Tilly said, thankful for Ruth’s new direction. “Almost like we put highlights in it.”

“Such interesting names,” Mammi said, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “Where’d ya ever hear of them?”

Tilly remembered the day she’d first seen the names—and
a few other beautiful, yet unusual names. “In a baby name book, actually.”

“What an interesting way to choose a name.”

Tilly nodded.

“Now, let’s have that hot apple cider,” Mammi said, getting up and wandering into the nearby kitchen. Her steps were slow yet determined. “And how would ya like a treat to go with it, maybe?”

Tilly didn’t have the heart to tell her they were full to the gills with sweets and treats. “Are
you
hungry?” she whispered to Ruth, who rolled her eyes in answer.

Tilly motioned for Ruth to join her in the kitchen with Mammi anyway, not knowing when or if they’d have another chance to visit with their aging grandmother.

“You still have your piggy salt and pepper shakers,” Ruth said, smiling.

“Oh, I remember these,” Tilly said as she reached for the saltshaker and looked at it more closely. “I’ve always loved them.”

“They’re mighty cute, ain’t so?” Mammi said. “One of the few things I convinced my family to let me keep when I moved over here . . . after your Dawdi died.”

Tilly could see that it was still hard for Mammi to talk about him; undoubtedly she missed him terribly.

Mammi shook her head. “But that’s all part of life’s seasons,
jah
? And from what I hear, your parents will soon be vacating their big house, too.”

“What do you mean?” Tilly asked, thinking she must have misheard.

“Well, your father’s appointed Sam to run the dairy farm.”

Tilly realized she should have considered that Daed might
want to transition the farm to Sam, who was renting and no doubt waiting for this moment. It certainly made sense that Daed would want to do this while he was still living, but no one had breathed a word about it today.

“How soon?” Ruth asked.

Mammi didn’t seem to know the answer. “But I do know it’s all been settled, and what with your Daed’s heart condition, I’d be surprised if he puts it off. Sam is itchin’ to start.”

Tilly could scarcely comprehend her parents’ moving away from their first home . . . that wonderful old house passed down through the family for generations.

Ruth blinked repeatedly, and Tilly knew if she looked at her sister any longer, she, too, might be fighting back tears.

Mammi gingerly poured the hot cider into three blue-and-yellow teacups with gold edging. “I fear I’ve upset you both.”

Ruth was quiet, and Tilly was too stumped to say anything sensible. The more she contemplated this news, the warmer her neck felt.

“I spoke out of turn, maybe,” Mammi added. “I would guess your Daed will surely say something while you’re both home visitin’.”

Tilly looked out the window, lost in thought. She saw the old windmill rotating slowly, facing the southeast presently. The view was similar to that from the large farmhouse next door, where she’d so often sat and soaked up all of her grandmother’s enduring love. Tilly had never fully appreciated until now what a blessed gift that was.

Mammi broke the stillness. “That’s sure one bright automobile you’ve got there.”

Ruth laughed softly. “Tilly figured if she was going to drive at all, she might as well go with something colorful.”

“Oh, now, aren’t you something!” Mammi was laughing, too. “Are ya sayin’ that if you’re goin’ to step away from the church ordinance, you might as well go whole hog?” Her voice trailed off, and she looked mighty sheepish. “
Ach
, I never should’ve said that.”

Ruth reminded her that they hadn’t joined church and weren’t under the rules of the
Ordnung
.

“Is that right?” Mammi looked befuddled. “I guess I’d forgotten.”

But Tilly wasn’t so certain.

“Well, if you don’t have plans to go to another church tomorrow, you’re welcome to come to ours in the mornin’.” She peered over the top of her wee glasses at Ruth.

Ruth stirred her hot cider, which was cooling now. At last she said, “I’ve actually considered going to Preaching service.”

“It’ll gladden your father’s heart, I’m sure.” Mammi poured more hot cider in their cups.

Tilly presumed her sister would definitely end up going now. And soon after, when they had bid Mammi good-bye and she drove Ruth back to Daed’s house, Tilly wasn’t up to saying more about it. She just wasn’t.

While there at the house, she wondered if now was a good time to talk to her mother about how she’d taken Anna’s head covering, eager to return it to its rightful place. But she wanted to do this privately, without Ruth around.

How will I ever
manage that?