Convenient Amish Proposal

by Jan Drexler

  “I brought her with me to get the milk.”

  He hadn’t noticed Bethany walk in behind Mari. She stood just inside the barn, hanging back as if she didn’t want to speak to him unless it was necessary.

  “The pail is in the dairy. I haven’t skimmed the cream yet.”

  “I can do that. I’m sure Mari would like to spend some time with you.”

  She started toward the stairway leading to the dairy in the basement of the barn, but stopped when Andrew stood, picking up Mari. “We’ll join you. How else will Mari learn to do that chore?”

  “I’ll do it. You can show Mari the horse. Have you decided on a name for him yet?” She took another step toward the stairway.

  “Are you trying to avoid talking to me?”

  “Our earlier conversation didn’t turn out well.”

  Mari patted his cheek. “I want to see the horse.”

  “Ja, Mari, I’ll show you the horse.” He glanced toward the stairway, but Bethany had disappeared.

  Mari’s eyes grew wide as he brought her near the stall. The gelding was tall and strong, but one horse wasn’t enough to run the farm. He needed a team of Belgians like this one, and a driving horse, too. But that would happen in due time. Perhaps he’d find a teammate for this one at next week’s auction.

  The big horse stepped close and reached toward Mari with his nostrils wide, taking in the little girl’s scent.

  “He’s smelling you.” Andrew smiled at Mari to relieve her fears. “He only smells people he likes.”

  “Does he like you?”

  “For sure, he does. I’m the one who feeds him.”

  Andrew took a carrot stub from his pocket and put it in Mari’s open hand. She giggled as the horse lifted it from her palm. “His whiskers tickle.”

  “What should we name him?”

  “Whiskers.” Mari laid her hand on the gentle horse’s soft nose. “His name is Whiskers.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a better name for a cat?”

  Mari shook her head. “I like Whiskers.”

  “Whiskers it is, then.”

  “Does he have a daed?”

  “For sure. But he’s a big horse and doesn’t live with his daed.”

  “His mamm?”

  “He doesn’t live with his mother, either.”

  Mari laid a hand on his beard and turned his face toward her. “I have my own mamm. Her name is Mamma Bethany.”

  Andrew froze. What should he say? Lily was Mari’s real mother, but Bethany was...what?

  “Bethany is your stepmother.”

  “That’s what Mammi Rose said. But sometimes grown-ups are wrong.”

  That was true enough. “Who told you that?”

  “Mamma Bethany.”

  “Do you know what that means?”

  Mari shook her head. “Mamma Bethany is my new mamm and she loves me.” She patted the horse’s nose again. “Is she my real mamm?”

  Andrew sighed. “Just because someone loves you doesn’t mean they’re your real mother.”

  “You’re my real daed.”

  “For sure I am.”

  “You love me.”

  “For sure I do.”

  Mari nodded. “My real mamm loves me, too.”

  She was right about that. Lily had loved her daughter very much. But what did this have to do with Bethany?

  “Your real mamm is in the Blessed Land, and you must always remember that she loved you.”

  Mari nodded. “Mamm loves me, and my new mamm loves me. And my daed loves me. And Mammi Rose loves me.”

  Andrew gave up. Perhaps when Mari was older she would understand.

  “Let’s go help Bethany with the milk.”

  “Mamma Bethany,” Mari said as he set her on the floor. “Her name is Mamma Bethany.”

  “All right.” Andrew followed her toward the stairway. “Mamma Bethany.” Mari could be just as persistent as her grandmother.

  Bethany had finished skimming the milk and was covering the small cream pail with a cloth. Mari paused in the doorway of the room, taking in the sight of the bright metal buckets and the white walls.

  “You’re done already?” Andrew said.

  “For sure. It doesn’t take long to skim cream from one cow.” She gave him a smile, then frowned, as if she just remembered that she was upset with him.

  Andrew gestured at the walls. “We need a new coat of whitewash. I thought I’d do this room tomorrow, the same time we paint the chicken coop.”

  “That will brighten it up.” Bethany shifted from one foot to the other. “I forgot to tell you that Daed came over this morning. He asked if we’d like to go on a picnic at Emma Lake on Sunday. It’s an off-church week, and the weather should be good.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  Mari tugged on his hand. “I like picnics.”

  “We don’t have any chickens to fry,” Bethany said, shifting the cream pail to the other hand, “but Daed has ham in the cellar at home, and we can make sandwiches.”

  “Will your brothers come, too?”

  Bethany grinned. “Would they pass up a meal? Besides, it’s Sunday. The family always does things together on Sundays.”

  A cool thread of memory ran through Andrew’s mind. His family and Bethany’s family picnicking at the lake on summer Sunday afternoons. Skipping rocks across the glassy water, watching the Englischers fish, relaxing in the soft grass. Even helping Bethany’s little brothers catch frogs, and then watching their prizes swim away at the end of the afternoon. In Iowa it had been different, because of Rose’s belief they should sit quietly in the house on a Sunday afternoon.

  “Did Rose agree?”

  Bethany handed the milk pail to him and started up the cellar steps. “She seemed to be happy about it when Daed invited her.”

  “What do you mean?” Andrew helped Mari up the steep steps.

  “She was interested, and thought it was a good idea.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Rose. She is very strict about how she spends Sunday afternoons, and they don’t include picnics.”

  “Why not?”

  Andrew shrugged as Bethany reached the top of the steps and turned toward him. “All of the church in Iowa believed that off-church Sundays should be spent reading and resting.”

  “That isn’t the way we do it here. Resting, for sure. But also visiting with family and friends. Bishop says it’s the way the church stays together, just like a family stays together.”

  “I remember that. But I’m still surprised Rose agreed to the picnic.”

  Bethany took Mari’s hand before they reached the barn doors. “She didn’t just agree. She looked delighted.”

  “Delighted?”

  “She even gave Daed a piece of pie.”

  Andrew caught Bethany’s elbow before she left the barn. “Wait. Rose gave Jonah a piece of pie?”

  Bethany nodded.

  “In the middle of the morning?”

  “Earlier. Right after breakfast.”

  “Something is going on. That doesn’t sound at all like Rose. Was she that nice to you, too?”

  Bethany pointed to some dandelions in the barnyard. “Mari, would you like to pick more flowers for Dinah?”

  As the little girl ran out to the grassy yard, Bethany watched her, chewing on her bottom lip.

  “Rose isn’t nice to me. Ever. I think she resents me and is trying to drive me away.”

  “Why? What does she say?”

  “I heard her telling Mari that I’m not her real mother. She’s trying to keep Mari from loving me.”

  “So that’s why Mari told me she had two mothers. I think she’s trying to please both you and Rose.”

  “That isn’t fair, though, is it? A child shouldn’t feel like she has to keep the
peace between two grown-ups.” Bethany faced him, one hand on her hip, the other dangling the small cream pail. “You need to talk to Rose, Andrew. Take control of her. This is your house and your family, not hers.”

  Andrew shifted the milk pail from one hand to the other, and then back, until Bethany finally took it out of his hand with an exasperated sigh.

  “This reminds me of the time you broke the window in the front room. Do you remember that?”

  He nodded, but he didn’t want to revisit that day. He had been throwing a ball onto the roof and catching it as it rolled back to him, but then on one throw, the ball had gone through the window.

  Bethany went on, her voice quiet. Accusing. “You knew you should tell your father, but you didn’t.”

  Andrew scratched his beard. “I didn’t want him to yell at me.”

  “You deserved it.”

  “I know.”

  “And you hid what you did.”

  Andrew nodded. He had pulled down the window shade, hoping Daed wouldn’t notice the broken pane.

  “Then it rained that night, and water blew in the front room, ruining your father’s Bible and staining the furniture.” Bethany stepped closer to him. “If you had only confessed to your father about the broken window, those things wouldn’t have been ruined. You made the situation worse by trying to avoid facing him. You couldn’t do the hard job.”

  Andrew watched Mari gathering dandelions, happy in the morning sunshine.

  “This isn’t the same as that.”

  “In a way it is. You don’t want to do the hard job of telling Rose to either leave or accept that we’re married.”

  “I told you, things will be fine. They’ll sort themselves out.”

  “But Andrew, how long will Mari and I need to suffer under her poisonous words until that happens?”

  Andrew had no answer but frowned at Bethany’s back as she stalked toward the house with a pail in each hand. Mari followed her inside, her fist full of dandelions. He could do the hard things when he needed to. Facing Lily’s death had been the hardest thing he had ever been through, and he had survived, for Mari’s sake.

  But facing Rose... Andrew scratched his beard. He wasn’t sure what was holding him back, other than he had no idea what she should do. He couldn’t send her back to Iowa, not as long as this drought held. And as long as she refused to move into the Zook’s Dawdi Haus, he didn’t have any other suggestions for her. And the whole idea of bringing up the subject of his marriage to Bethany with Lily’s mother turned his stomach.

  Maybe Bethany was right. Maybe he just didn’t want to do it. Even if his delay only made things worse.

  Chapter Seven

  Emma Lake was beautiful on the warm June afternoon. The weather had cooled a little from the previous sweltering weeks, and Sunday brought many families to the lake, mostly Englischers with their fishing boats, but other Amish families were also there. Bethany spread an old quilt over the soft grass while Rose took Mari down to the edge of the water, holding her hand.

  Mari was wearing her new pink dress over Bethany’s objections that it would get soiled on the picnic, but Rose had her way. Somehow, Rose always got her way, no matter how hard Bethany protested. She had to admit, though, that Mari looked sweet in the new dress. Rose had even made her first kapp. She patiently put it back on every time Mari pulled it off, and now Mari seemed to be getting used to wearing it.

  Rose wore a burgundy dress that reminded Bethany of ripe mulberries, and Mari’s pink dress made a pretty contrast as she stood beside her grandmother. While Bethany got the dishes and food out of the picnic basket, Daed walked up to Rose and bent his head close to hers. Whatever he said, Rose responded with a good-natured laugh that carried all the way back to the picnic spot. The three of them strolled along the lakeshore until Bethany had to send James after them so they would be back in time for their picnic lunch.

  “This is fun,” James said after the prayer. He reached for a ham sandwich. “Can we go fishing after lunch?”

  “Not on Sunday,” Daed said. “You know that.”

  “What can we do, then?”

  “I brought a ball,” Nathaniel said. “We can play catch.”

  “I’m going to visit some of the other Amish families that are here.” Aaron finished his first sandwich and reached for a second. “If that’s all right with you, Daed.”

  “Ja, for sure. Didn’t I see Katie’s family down the way?”

  Aaron blushed as his younger brothers laughed, but then he grinned. “Who knows? She might be family soon enough.”

  “You mean there might be another wedding in the works?” Rose said, and she smiled at Daed.

  Bethany glanced at Andrew. Ja, for sure, he noticed it, too. Rose was being downright pleasant today.

  By the time the lunch was cleared away, Mari was yawning.

  “Why don’t you and I sit on the quilt for a while?” Bethany said, moving the blanket close to a small tree to keep it in the shade. “We can watch the boats while you rest your head in my lap.”

  “No nap,” Mari said as she rubbed her eyes.

  “Only a bit of a rest.”

  Andrew sat with them as Aaron walked toward Katie’s family and the other boys took their ball to an open space away from the water. Rose and Daed had disappeared. As Bethany waved flies away from Mari’s face, the little girl’s eyes closed.

  “Where did Rose and Jonah go?” Andrew asked. He leaned back on his elbows as he watched the fishermen on the water.

  “I don’t know. They must have gone for a walk together, but I didn’t see which way they went.”

  “Have you noticed how nice Rose has been today?”

  Bethany waved a fly away from her own face. “Could it be that she’s changing? Maybe being in Indiana is good for her.”

  “I think it’s your father.”

  “You don’t think she has set her sights on him, do you?”

  “You mean marriage? Of course not. I don’t know how many times she’s talked about Lemuel and how she will never marry again. She’s too old, anyway.”

  “No older than Daed.”

  “That’s just what I mean. People their age don’t think about marriage. They have to be at least fifty years old.”

  “Daed is fifty-five.” Rose leaned against the tree. “And he wouldn’t marry again. He loved Mamm too much to ever think of replacing her.”

  Andrew laid back on the quilt, his hat over his face. “They probably just enjoy each other’s company, since they’re the same age.”

  Bethany nodded, but Andrew didn’t see her. He didn’t talk anymore, either, and soon his breathing was as deep and even as Mari’s.

  The afternoon was warm and still, and Bethany must have nodded off, too. The next thing she knew, she heard voices behind her.

  “Is there any cake left?” James said, his voice a whisper.

  “Ja, I made plenty for you boys.” Rose’s whisper was slightly louder. “Go wash in the lake before you eat any, though. All of your hands are filthy.”

  Bethany heard pounding footsteps as the boys ran toward the lake, and she was just dozing off again when Daed lowered himself to sit on the opposite side of the tree she leaned against.

  “They love your cake, Rose. And you spoil them.”

  Wide awake now, Bethany didn’t move for fear of waking Mari. Rose spoiled her brothers?

  “It’s only cake,” Rose said. “And I’ve heard that growing boys need a lot of food.”

  “You and Lemuel only had one daughter?”

  Rose sighed. “Only Lily. Lemuel always said he loved her, but I knew he was disappointed that we never had a son.”

  “It sounds like he was a fine man.”

  “He was a good man and loved the church. There aren’t many like him in this world.”

  The boys came back t
hen, noisy as ever, and both Mari and Andrew woke up. By the time Bethany and Mari returned from the outhouse next to the boat launch, the rest of the family was sitting on the quilt, eating cake as if they had never had dinner.

  “I have cake, too?” Mari asked.

  “For sure you can.” Bethany helped her find a place to sit next to John as Rose handed her a piece of cake.

  “Bethany, look.” John showed her a tear in his trouser knee. “Nathaniel threw the ball out of my reach, and when I went to get it, I slipped. You’ll need to mend it.”

  “Bring it over tomorrow, and I’ll wash it, too.”

  Daed cleared his throat. “I hoped I could bring all of our laundry to you. There is quite a pile, and none of us can take time off our work to wash it.”

  Inwardly, Bethany groaned. A pile of her brother’s dirty work clothes on top of Andrew’s? For sure, she would do it, but it would be a job and a half.

  But before she could agree, Rose jumped in. “I’ll come over in the morning and take care of it, Jonah. Bethany has enough to do with her own laundry. And there’s no reason to cart it back and forth across the road.”

  Bethany blinked. “Are you sure, Rose? You don’t know how dirty my brothers’ clothes can be.”

  “It’s been ten years since I’ve washed a man’s laundry, but I remember how. It will be a pleasure to help out a neighbor.”

  Andrew froze, his last bite of cake halfway to his mouth. He looked at Bethany and she shrugged. It seemed that he was just as confused by this change as she was. But at least Rose was finding a way to make herself busy away from the house. Tomorrow could be a peaceful, productive day.

  * * *

  Rose left the house before Andrew went downstairs on Monday morning, leaving the kitchen feeling empty and quiet. Mari was still sleeping, but Bethany was already on the washing porch, sorting the laundry into piles of dark clothes and light.

  Andrew paused before heading to the barn. “It’s a fine morning, isn’t it?”

  Bethany straightened, looking up at the deep blue sky with pink and orange streaks on the eastern horizon. “For sure, it is. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t noticed.”