A Beautiful Arrangement

by Beth Wiseman

  Samuel wanted to tell his friend to be careful, that the babies would go to sleep early, and they’d be alone in the house. But he spooned another bite of soup. He’d never told Joseph that he and Lydia had married only because she was pregnant.

  Joseph lowered his sandwich. “One odd thing happened, though.”

  “What’s that?” Samuel glanced at the clock on the wall. He had ten minutes left. He didn’t want to be late getting back to work, but Joseph had an unusually sober expression on his face.

  “She avoided a man eating at the restaurant who seemed to know her, a guy about our age. It was really obvious after she spotted him. She asked me to meet her at the entrance of the place right before tucking her head and almost running to the restroom.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just weird. The man even called after her, but she didn’t turn around. I know she must have heard him.”

  “Maybe he was an old boyfriend or someone she dated?”

  Joseph shook his head. “Nee, he was with a woman and a small child. And Beverly told me she’s dated only one other man since her husband died, a guy named Chriss. She didn’t seem comfortable talking about him when the subject came up. She just said it didn’t work out.”

  “Did you ask her why she hurried out of the restaurant?” Samuel pushed back his chair, then went to the sink and rinsed out his bowl.

  “I wasn’t going to, but it was bugging me, so I eventually did.” He slouched into his chair, having only eaten half his sandwich. “She avoided answering the question.”

  Samuel looked at the clock again, then leaned against the counter. “She could have had a lot of reasons, I guess. Were they Amish?”

  “Nee. Englisch.” Joseph picked up the other part of his sandwich and took a large bite.

  “I don’t know. Maybe try to bring it up again when the time seems right. I guess I better get back to work.” He took a couple of steps toward the door that led to the showroom.

  “Hey, what do you think about Beverly and Lydia looking for that old woman’s haus tomorrow? I wish they’d just let it be, but they seem determined to help the old gal somehow.”

  Samuel stopped abruptly and slowly turned around. “I didn’t know that’s what they were planning to do. Lydia just said Beverly had a day off from the bakery and was coming for a visit.” His nerves tensed as he took a deep breath. “I can’t think of a time Lydia has lied to me. If she did, I didn’t know about it. Lying is a big pet peeve of mine.”

  “Ya. Ya, I agree. I try not to lie, and I can’t stand it when others do. But . . . it ain’t exactly a lie, what Lydia did. She just didn’t mention it.” Joseph cringed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “It’s fine.” He hurriedly turned around so Joseph wouldn’t see the scowl on his face. Lydia knew he wasn’t in favor of her growing obsession with Margaret Keim. He’d ask her about it when he got home. He wasn’t sure what he was more upset about—that Lydia hadn’t told him about looking for Margaret’s house or that she’d breached a trust he thought they were at least working toward.

  * * *

  Lydia laid Mattie in her crib when she got home from Fannie and Herman’s house, then stretched her arms above her head as she yawned. She’d pulled out furniture to sweep behind it, and she’d prepared several meals, dishes her in-laws could easily heat in the oven. They’d loved visiting with their granddaughter, but they still put up a mild argument about Lydia doing housework. In the end, Mattie consumed their time, and even though the extra work had worn her out, Lydia felt better when she left the house tidy.

  But she’d also stayed longer than she meant to this afternoon. She was accustomed to visiting them in the mornings, but she’d taken Mattie to the doctor for her vaccinations early in the day.

  Her father-in-law had more color in his face, and Fannie’s bruised eye and cheek were yellowing every day as the swelling slowly went down. Lydia was hopeful they were on the mend. Not that she minded the extra work but so they could enjoy a better quality of life.

  As she yawned again, she planned to turn in early. That sounded like a small thing in the big picture, but she looked forward to snuggling with Samuel at night. And she was excited about them having an actual date on Saturday.

  As she put the casserole she’d made that morning into the oven, the front door opened. Samuel stormed into the kitchen without pausing to take off his shoes, and when she glanced up, Lydia could tell something was wrong by the sour expression on his face.

  “Didn’t you get the voice mail I left you saying I was going to your parents’ haus this afternoon?” Lydia closed the oven door and turned to face him. “I didn’t want you to think you had to stop and check on them if you didn’t feel up to it, since I was going to be there.”

  “Ya, I got the message.” He put his hat on the rack by the kitchen door, but he didn’t sit down. Nor did the brash tone of his voice soften as he folded his arms across his chest. “Beverly is coming over tomorrow.”

  “Ya, she is. She has the day off from the bakery.” She tried to sound casual before she turned around and began chopping lettuce at the counter. “Remember, I told you about it?”

  “What do you have planned?”

  Samuel sounded confrontational, but Lydia was too tired to argue about anything. She also didn’t want to lose her spot in the nook of her husband’s arm when they went to bed. Maybe a little arguing was healthy, but she wanted to avoid it tonight.

  “We’ll probably get something to eat. It’s supposed to be a nice day, not as hot as it has been.” Lydia started to chop up a tomato, hoping that would pacify Samuel. It wasn’t a lie, just an exclusion of the entire truth.

  “That sounds nice, a meal and a ride.” Samuel sat down at the table. The harshness in his tone didn’t make it sound nice.

  Lydia kept chopping and cleared her throat. “Ya, a nice day for both.”

  “Do you have anything else planned?” Samuel’s tone softened, so maybe Lydia had misread any irritation in his comment before.

  She thought for a few seconds. “Nee, that’s all.” Now she was lying, so she quickly asked God to forgive her.

  Samuel was quiet, but when Lydia turned to put the salad in the refrigerator, she looked at him sideways. By the scowl on his face and the way his arms were still across his chest, she could tell he had more on his mind.

  “Is something wrong?” She leaned against the counter, faced him, and folded her arms across her chest too.

  “Today Joseph and I had a conversation about something that really gets under our skin.” He paused to glare at her. “Lying.”

  Lydia dropped her hands to her sides and sighed. “Samuel, if you have something to say, just say it.” She was much too tired for this, but she’d rather break through the tension than deal with it all evening.

  “You’re planning to go find Margaret Keim’s haus, even though I asked you to let that whole business go.” He peered at her in a way that brought forth anger.

  “Ya, we just might do that.” She raised her chin, deciding she couldn’t avoid a confrontation “As long as we were going to enjoy a ride, we thought we might drive by the haus where Margaret used to live, and I don’t know why that bothers you so much.”

  “I hope you found a babysitter. I don’t want mei dochder anywhere near that place.” Samuel’s jaw tensed.

  Lydia’s thoughts about the matter bubbled to the surface. “You can’t tell me where I can take Mattie. We’re just going to drive by. It’s just an old haus.” She stiffened as she met his icy gaze, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to stay calm. She didn’t like his tone or bossiness, but she would give him the benefit of the doubt—that he truly had concerns about Mattie’s well-being. “But mei mamm is going to keep Mattie so I can enjoy a day out with Beverly.”

  “I told you. I worry that old woman might be dangerous.” Samuel’s expression relaxed as he unfolded his arms.

  “You have no reason to think that. A lot of rumors about Margaret circle aro
und, but maybe she just fell on hard times and needs a little help.” Lydia held her stance, arms still folded.

  “You heard what mei parents said. Folks have been trying to help her for decades. What can you possibly do that others—with more means than us—haven’t been able to do?”

  “If this is about money, I know we don’t have any to spare. But you have no compassion where Margaret is concerned. How can you stand to see someone living in squalor the way she is? Maybe she just needs someone to take an interest in her, to show a little kindness.”

  “Maybe you should show a little interest in your husband instead.”

  Lydia’s jaw dropped. Samuel was itching for a fight. She wondered how much of it was about Margaret and the house. His last comment leaned more toward the elephant in the room they’d been avoiding, the one that wandered into the bedroom each night. Maybe he was using his irritation with Margaret to mask what he was really upset about. Either way, all their issues were coming to a head in this one conversation. Lydia was only prepared to tackle one at a time.

  As she stood gaping, she pondered a response. It was easier to argue about Margaret than it was to talk about their sex life—or lack of one. She had hoped she and Samuel would work toward bettering their relationship as a couple, but this sounded like bullying. Even so, she didn’t want to get into their lack of intimacy, although she sensed her spot in his arms slipping away, at least for tonight. “You can’t tell me what to do.” She felt like a five-year-old as she lowered her arms to her sides and looked down.

  “Nee, apparently not. Go and have fun with Beverly tomorrow.” He stood, and his chair scraped across the floor so roughly that it almost tipped backward. “I’m not hungry. I’m going to go shower.”

  Lydia was tempted to run after him, to unleash all the emotions she’d been holding in, but Mattie began to fuss. She shuffled out of the kitchen, crossing through the living room to tend to her daughter. As she scooped Mattie into her arms, she had to ask herself if Samuel was right. Was she occupying herself with other things to avoid the issues between them? Maybe. But now the topic was all but out in the open, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Should she try to pretend the conversation hadn’t happened? Would Samuel bring it up again?

  As she held Mattie close, she blinked back tears and thought about all the angry comments, knee-jerk responses, and emotions that had just boiled to the surface like hot lava. A volcano was beginning to spew. And it all led to the one emotion that kept rising to the top for Lydia—loneliness.

  * * *

  Samuel skipped both supper and devotions and went to bed. When Lydia came into their bedroom, he pretended to be asleep. As he lay there, thinking about the day, he tried to analyze what had him bothered the most and why he’d reacted the way he had.

  If Lydia had any idea how much the possibility of her interacting with Margaret worried him, she would have understood his reaction. But there was more to Samuel’s bad mood than he liked to admit even to himself. Yes, he wanted to be closer to Lydia in an intimate way, but he’d also been envious when Joseph told him about his date with Beverly. Would he and Lydia have fallen in love and chosen to be together if their relationship had progressed the way a relationship is supposed to? Would they have had that twinkle in their eyes Joseph had today? His friend was a man falling in love. Samuel was a married man who loved his wife. But it felt different, and he wanted what Joseph had. Maybe that time had passed.

  He rolled onto his back just as Lydia extinguished her lantern. But he got a glimpse of her face and saw she’d been crying. He was such a jerk. He’d missed supper, he hadn’t seen his daughter, and he’d made his wife cry. Not his best day.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly as she laid down, far on her side of the bed and facing away from him. He rolled onto his side and stared at her back.

  Samuel expected her to say it was okay or offer some other mundane response so they could go to sleep without further discussion. That’s what they did. But the tension between them had never escalated to the point it had this evening.

  When Lydia rolled over and faced him, he could barely make out her face in the small amount of light streaming from the propane lamp outside. But as she shifted her position, rays from a nearly full moon lit her expression, and he saw her bottom lip tremble.

  “Samuel, I want to be the fraa you want. I want our relationship to be different as much as you do. I just don’t know how to get there.” She covered her face with her hands and cried.

  “Come here,” he said softly as he reached for her.

  Sniffing, she found her place in the nook of his arm, and he kissed her on the forehead. “We’ll get there. I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you. If finding out about Margaret is that important to you, then I won’t give you a hard time about it—if you promise to be careful.”

  She lifted her head and stared into his eyes, and for a moment, Samuel thought he saw an invitation in her gaze. “I’ll be careful,” she said in a whisper before she settled against him again. Maybe if they communicated more about what was important, maybe if they were more honest, their issues wouldn’t intensify. Maybe they’d find a way to each other the way they wanted to.

  He stared at the ceiling as Lydia fell asleep in his arms. On Saturday, they would have an actual date, just the two of them. Samuel wanted to make it the most romantic night he could—a night Lydia would never forget.

  Chapter 11

  Lydia wondered if Beverly noticed her eyes were still swollen from crying. If she had, her friend didn’t say anything. Lydia wanted to spill her guts to Beverly, to tell her everything going on in her mind. But Beverly was aglow and seemingly in love, and Lydia didn’t want to tamper with her happy mood. They were on a mission to learn more about Margaret Keim. Today, Lydia would let that be her distraction.

  “Are you sure this is the right road?” Beverly pushed black sunglasses up on her nose as she peered ahead of them, straining to see into the sun’s glare. They’d eaten fish sandwiches at Stop N Sea, and now they’d just passed the Troyers’ place and the turn her father-in-law had described. Dark clouds gathered in cottony clusters overhead as the sun fought for space. As of last night, no rain had been in the forecast, but Lydia hadn’t checked this morning’s newspaper.

  “Ya, I think so. When I asked him for clarification, Herman said the haus was on this road, just past the Troyers’.” Lydia had snagged a pair of sunglasses right before she left home, but they were an old pair and hung lopsided on her face. She’d been in a hurry to get Mattie to her mother’s house before Beverly arrived.

  As Lydia kept the horse at a steady trot, she wondered if they should turn back. “I’ve never been down this road.” The farther they went, the more the trees began to form a scraggly arch across the narrow street. “It’s a little creepy.”

  “Maybe it only feels creepy because of the dark clouds hovering over us. We’re on a historical mission, not living out a ghost story.” Beverly giggled, but stopped suddenly and gasped. “Look!” She pointed across Lydia and to their left. “There’s a house back there.”

  An old farmhouse loomed in the distance, a considerable way from the road. Lydia slowed the horse. “How did you even see that?”

  “I must have been looking at just the right time.” Beverly pushed her sunglasses on top of her head as the skies became more overcast. “Do you think that’s it?”

  Lydia took off her sunglasses and set them in her lap. “It certainly fits the description.” She paused as they both eyed the house. “Look at the way the vines crawl up the sides, and the front windows are broken.” After she took a deep breath, she said, “I don’t know if we should go any closer.”

  To Lydia’s surprise, Beverly said, “Ya, I agree.”

  Loud, rumbling thunder sounded overhead. Seconds later, a bolt of lightning caused Lydia to squeeze her eyes closed, and she covered her ears when the follow-up thunder boomed overhead. “Argh. Where did this storm come from? I should have double-checked the weathe
r forecast.”

  Lydia jumped when lightning struck closer this time, causing her to pull back on the reins. Her horse’s front legs came up in the air. “Chester doesn’t like storms,” she said as she nodded toward the nervous animal.

  “There’s a barn by Margaret’s haus, but it looks like it’s missing a wall.” Beverly pointed to the other side of the property. “There’s a lean-to. Should we at least take shelter on the front porch and put your horse under the lean-to? This is surely just a random thunderstorm passing through. It shouldn’t last long.”

  Lydia eyed the trail to the house. It was barely wide enough to accommodate a buggy.

  “Someone uses this driveway.” Beverly pointed across Lydia again. “See how all that overgrowth is pressed down.”

  “I still don’t think we should go on the property.” Lydia wanted to heed Samuel’s warnings, but they might not have a choice. He would want her to wait out the storm. When another bolt of lightning struck nearby, her horse grew more agitated and reared up again. “Chester has neighed and fussed when we hit a storm, but he’s bucked like this only once. I’m a little afraid he might take off running. We better take shelter for now.”

  Beverly bit her bottom lip and then stayed quiet as Lydia backed up the horse and buggy, then coaxed Chester onto the worn path. Her heart pounded against her chest as rain poured, and still another bolt of lightning lit the trail ahead of them. Lydia had a bad feeling about this, but she kept a strong hold on the reins as her horse whinnied his way down the path. As if by instinct, Chester trotted under the lean-to and stopped, leaving the buggy exposed.

  “Are we better off staying here in the buggy or running inside the haus?” Beverly had her eyes on the dilapidated structure. “I don’t think we’ll be any safer or drier on the porch. The rain is blowing sideways, so we’d get wet there.”

  Lydia turned that way and studied the remains of a life once lived. She wanted to know what was inside, but at what cost? “There’s no telling what type of critters might have taken up residence in there.”