by Amy Clipston
“Fern’s not a big fan of change, I’m afraid.”
Looking up at the school ahead, Wendy decided she was feeling vulnerable enough to let her guard down. “She’s not the only one. I don’t know if I’ll ever win over my scholars. They really miss Mary Wagoner.”
“Mary is a nice lady, but you are too. Just give it time, Wendy. And don’t forget that you’re in charge. Not the children. I believe in you.”
Her insides melted. “Danke, Lewis. I not only appreciate you carrying my book bag, I enjoyed our talk. I’ve been a little blue of late. I guess I needed a pep talk.”
Handing her the satchel, he tipped his hat. “In that case, I’m pleased I was able to give you one. Have a gut day, and I’ll see you tonight.”
Smiling at him, she waved goodbye. “Yes, see you then.”
She turned—and ran into Beth Petersheim.
Mrs. Petersheim was in her early forties and was fourteen-year-old Marti’s mamm. The first time Wendy had met the lady, she’d been grateful. Beth looked energetic and seemed to be very helpful. It was only later Wendy learned the woman was also judgmental, something of a gossip, and a fierce defender of her daughter. Wendy would’ve applauded that . . . if Marti didn’t spend the majority of her days looking bored and acting disrespectful.
Wendy had started to give both mother and daughter a wide berth. She’d known a lot of girls like Marti when she’d been in eighth grade. All they’d wanted was to get through school so they could do what they wished. Marti was no different. And given that it was March, Wendy knew better than to try to convince Marti to suddenly start caring about school or her new teacher.
She just wished Marti’s mother cared a little less about school as well.
Bracing herself for Mrs. Petersheim’s latest complaint, Wendy forced herself to greet her politely. “Hello, Beth. How are you this morning?”
“Not as good as you, I gather, if you have Lewis Weaver walking you to school now.”
She should have known his company would draw attention. “It was kind of him to offer to carry my book bag. I took home a lot of work last night.”
There. Perhaps that comment would remind Beth how hard she was working.
“It’s a shame you’re still having a difficult time managing your schedule, dear. I don’t remember Mary ever walking out the door with much. I guess your inexperience is hard to overcome.”
Since her shoulder was already protesting the tote’s weight, Wendy set it on the ground. “It is no secret that this is my first time to teach. But every teacher I’ve met has said they worked a lot of hours outside of the classroom their first few years. I guess it’s to be expected.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
Precious minutes were ticking away. This impromptu meeting was creeping into her prep time and making her frustrated. “My students will start arriving soon. Is there something I may help you with?”
“Marti has shared with me how overwhelmed you’ve seemed at times. I came to offer my services.”
“Your services?”
Mrs. Petersheim inclined her head as though she was bestowing a great honor on Wendy. “Although I am very busy, I decided that it was possible to rearrange my schedule to help you for a few hours every day.”
A few hours with nosy Mrs. Petersheim? Wendy couldn’t think of anything worse. Struggling to keep her expression serene, she said, “Danke, but I don’t think that is necessary. I’ll be fine.”
“You are refusing my offer, Miss Schwartz? You’re not even going to consider it?”
Wendy felt like she was being tested, and she wasn’t even sure what the test was for. Though there was a small part of her that wanted to give in, her experience with her older siblings was coming in handy. Giving in without a fight was never a good idea.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Mrs. Petersheim, what I’m attempting to tell you is that both your appearance and your offer have caught me off guard. I’ll look at my schedule and get back to you.” Thinking quickly, she added, “Would you like to meet me here tomorrow morning? Say, at eight? By then I’ll have a better idea about what times of the day might be best for your help.”
“Do you not realize that tomorrow is Saturday?”
Boy, Beth’s opinion of her was mighty low. “I realize that. But I often come in on Saturday mornings to clean up the room and prepare for the following week.” She smiled. “You could help me clean, if you’d like.”
Mrs. Petersheim looked like she’d just swallowed a frog. “I don’t believe I’m free on Saturday mornings. I spend that precious time with my daughter, you see.”
“Oh?” Though she knew her mother would be shaking her head, Wendy continued. “How about Monday at four then?”
The other woman looked like she was tempted to refuse but stopped herself just in time. “Jah. I can do that.”
Wendy smiled sweetly. “I’m so glad. I’ll look forward to visiting with you then. Now, I really must get ready for the day. The eighth graders are presenting science projects, you know. I’m looking forward to seeing what Marti has been working on with you.”
As Wendy turned to unlock the door, she could practically feel Beth Petersheim’s gaze linger on her back. And because she wasn’t near as good a person as her mother had cautioned her to be, Wendy smiled to herself.
She knew for a fact that Marti hadn’t done much work on that project at all. It was going to be entertaining to see what her excuse was for not having it ready.
Walking into her classroom, confronted with that first whiff of chalk, glue, and children, Wendy felt a good dose of satisfaction. It was Friday, she was standing in her very own schoolhouse, and she’d just held her own with one of her most challenging parents.
It was going to be a great day.
Chapter 4
Lewis had long been used to his mother’s penchant for community table conversations, but the habit was still new to Wendy. He hoped the good mood he’d left her in this morning had continued throughout the day. Otherwise, he was pretty sure Wendy would find Mamm’s “community conversation” extremely irritating.
They’d certainly strained his patience more than a time or two.
Lewis had meant to check on Wendy before suppertime, but Fern told him Wendy had gone to her rooms the moment she’d gotten home. Fern said she’d attempted to chat with Wendy about some of the baby lambs she’d watched during her walk, but Wendy hadn’t smiled once at the lambs’ antics. In fact, all she’d done was say she needed to take a shower and rest before joining everyone at supper.
However, just like always, she’d run into the house at five on the dot, greeted everyone like usual, and taken her place.
Now she ate spaghetti and seemed rather upbeat. She was chatting with Judith Rose. He’d even heard something about visiting the Berlin Bookmobile when it came to their area on Saturday afternoon.
All of that was why he felt a bit anxious to hear how Wendy would respond to his mother’s chosen topic for the weekly Friday-night community conversation.
“Wendy,” his mother began with a bright smile, “I thought you would go first this evening.”
Setting her fork on the side of her plate, Wendy looked at his mother blankly. “You’d like me to be first for what?”
“Don’t you remember, girly?” Mervin asked. “Every Friday we all have to go around the table and answer a question that Bonnie asks.”
Wendy looked flustered, “Oh, of course. But I don’t have to go first, do I?”
“We all have to go first at one time or another,” said Mervin, sounding a bit like he was referring to some kind of awful chore.
“Come along, Wendy,” Fern prodded. “The sooner you get going, the sooner we’ll get this over with.”
Lewis winced as he glanced at his mother. As he’d feared, she looked rather offended.
“No one has to answer or speak if they don’t want to,” Mamm said. “I thought it was an enjoyable tradition.” Looking at them all intently, she raise
d an eyebrow. “Is it not enjoyable?”
“Oh, it’s fine,” said Fern quickly. “I’ve never minded it.”
As compliments went, it was pretty weak. Though his stomach was growling, Lewis didn’t have the heart to make things worse. “What’s tonight’s question, Mamm?”
“It’s a gut one. Well, at least I thought it was.” She cleared her throat. “Share a high and a low for the day.”
“A high and a low,” Wendy said.
“You know, like a good thing and a bad thing,” Judith Rose added helpfully. “Surely you can come up with something for those things?”
To his dismay, Wendy looked a little pale. “Well, um, my bad thing is that one of my eighth graders brought in a volcano for his science experiment, and it exploded all over the classroom. And me.” She took a deep breath. “I suppose my good thing is that I don’t have to go back there until Monday.”
Mervin sat up, his eyes bright with amusement. “What a time that must have been.”
“That’s one way of describing it, I suppose,” Wendy responded. “It was also a big mess.”
“Oh, dear,” said Mamm.
Daed’s lips twitched. “It might be wrong of me, but I would’ve liked to see that explosion. It sounds like it was quite a sight.”
“It was, all right.” A wrinkle formed between Wendy’s brows. “It would have been more exciting if it hadn’t exploded not just on me and Paul but also on little Miriam. She burst into tears.”
“Poor Miriam,” Judith Rose said. “She’s a little thing, jah?”
“She’s just six.” Leaning back, Wendy continued. “Miriam might have gotten over it if her mother hadn’t been quite so upset that the new dress she’d just made was likely ruined. Her mamm acted like Paul had done it on purpose or something.”
“Surely he hadn’t,” said Mamm.
“I know he didn’t,” Wendy replied, sounding even more aggrieved. “But you see, the problem is that Paul had decided to color the, um, lava with beet juice. It was as red as, um . . . this spaghetti sauce.”
“Beet juice does create quite a stain,” Fern said. “It will likely never come out. I guess your dress now sports a stain, too, dear?”
“I’m afraid so.” Wendy hung her head.
She looked so dejected, Lewis ached for her. Her attitude was a hundred and eighty degrees opposite of how she’d acted when she first arrived. It was hard to see how much her confidence and enthusiasm had fallen in ten days.
“Mamm, who should go next?” he asked.
“Hmm? Oh, um, how about you, Lewis?”
“My high for the day was that I finished the carving on the special-order front door I was working on.”
“Congratulations,” said Daed. “I’m sure it was impressive.”
“It looked gut. Simon, my boss, seemed real pleased.”
“What about your low for the day?” Mervin asked.
“Oh, that is easy. Someone ate my lunch, so I had to buy a sandwich at the café.”
“That isn’t necessarily a low, though, right?” Judith Rose asked. “I like the sandwiches at the Kinsinger Lumber cafe.”
Thinking of how tasty his roast beef and white cheddar on rye had been, he smiled at his sister. “I canna deny that it was tasty. So, perhaps it wasn’t exactly a low after all.”
“My turn,” said Mervin. “My high is that when I went for a little walk today I spied a hawk. Mei low is that I received a letter from my son John. His horse fell lame, so he won’t be coming this way on Sunday.”
“That’s a shame,” Judith Rose said. “I know you were looking forward to seeing him, Mervin.”
And so it continued. As he periodically glanced at Wendy, Lewis noticed she had perked up a bit by the time they’d eaten the dessert Judith Rose had made—chocolate cheesecake.
He had to give credit to his mother. As much as he sometimes grew tired of her Friday discussions, they did bring everyone closer together. He felt sure that if it wasn’t for his mother’s prodding, Mervin never would’ve shared his disappointment about his son’s missed trip. To Lewis, it seemed like a load had been pulled off Mervin’s shoulders too. Mervin had needed to talk about his feelings instead of keeping everything all bottled up.
When they were all finished, Wendy got to her feet. “I’d like to help you ladies do the dishes tonight,” she said.
“No need, Wendy,” Mamm replied. “You pay for room and board. That includes dishes.”
“That might be true, but I still think it would do me good to do something productive. I’m not quite ready to sit with my book just yet.”
“Come along and help me, then,” said Mamm. But along the way she nudged Lewis’s father . . . who walked over to Lewis as soon as they were alone in the dining room.
“You need to do something with Wendy tonight,” he said. “The poor girl can’t spend the rest of her evening sitting by herself. She’ll stew all night.”
“It’s dark and cold out. I think it’s sleeting too.”
“Play a game with her. Get some cards. Or Monopoly or something.”
His father sounded extra enthusiastic. If Lewis didn’t know better, he’d think his daed was playing matchmaker.
Though his first instinct was to leave poor Wendy alone, he realized he really did want to spend some time with her and attempt to cheer her up. “I’ll go see what she says.”
* * *
Two hours later, Wendy’s mood was much improved, and Lewis was realizing he wasn’t exactly a gracious loser.
“I had no idea you were so good at Monopoly,” he said. And yes, he might have sounded disgruntled by it.
Wendy chuckled. “That’s because you haven’t seen what my family is like when games are involved. We’re a crew of cutthroats.”
He laughed at the image. “That sounds dangerous.”
“It is. Every one of us is competitive and doesn’t like to lose.” She grinned. “No one takes into account a person’s experience or age, either. That means even my grandfather never got any special treatment.”
“Or, perhaps, not the youngest member of the family either?” he asked, trying to imagine what all that game playing must have been like for a little girl attempting to keep up with her older siblings.
She chuckled. “I most definitely did not receive special treatment. I had to learn at an early age not to give up. And to be devious.”
“Devious, hmm?”
“Oh, I don’t cheat or anything. I just learned to give whatever games we played my all.”
“Did you ever win?”
“Oh, sure.” Her eyes lit up, making her look happier than she’d appeared in days. “The first time I won Scrabble, I was thirteen, and I started jumping up and down like a child. It was a grand moment. Everyone looked just as pleased. My older brother twirled me around in a circle.”
The image she spun was a good one. But the story helped him understand something even better. “I’m starting to understand why God put you in this school, Wendy. The average new teacher might just give up, but you are used to overcoming obstacles.”
“You know, that’s true. I . . . I never thought about it that way.” Her eyes widened as she reached for his hand. “Danke, Lewis.”
“For what?”
“For helping me out so much today. Actually, you’ve helped me all week, for that matter.”
“I haven’t done that much.”
“You’ve done more than you know. I’m embarrassed, but I guess I’ve been feeling a bit sorry for myself these last couple of days. So much so, I had completely forgotten about all the times I lost those games—but how losing made me want to get better.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I think anyone would’ve had a tough time in your situation.”
“But my response hasn’t been like me. Usually I can laugh off little things.” She shook her head. “Boy, if my brothers had seen me get so upset about that volcano? Well, they would’ve told me to stop taking everything so seriously. I’m working
with children, not trained pets. Mistakes happen, which is part of learning.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“They would’ve wondered why I didn’t start laughing, and they would’ve been right too. It was quite a sight, one I know I’ll giggle about for years and years.”
“So you feel a little better now?”
She nodded. Looking down at his hand that she was still clasping, she dropped it like a hot potato. “I’m sorry I grabbed ya. I . . . I don’t know what came over me.”
“I didn’t mind it one bit,” he said. And he surely didn’t. The more time they spent together, the more he realized he wanted to get to know her. Wendy was a bright light, and he enjoyed her addition to his life.
She smiled at him, but her cheeks had turned pink. “I think I’m going to head up to my room. I have a new book, you know.”
“See you tomorrow. I’m glad we played the game.”
“I am too. Gut naut, Lewis.”
“Good night.” He watched her leave and walk down the lighted path to her room. Then, with some regret, he started putting the game pieces away.
Something had changed between them, and he was anxious to see where it led.
Chapter 5
The inside of the small wooden phone shanty was cold, especially since it was raining so hard. Though her feet were starting to feel frozen, Wendy did her best to ignore them—and the damp chill in the air.
She had something far better to concentrate on: her family’s happy voices on the other end of the line. Everyone gathered around her parents’ kitchen phone on Saturdays to check in with her. If she neglected to show up, everyone would worry. Not only did Wendy not want them to ever fret about her, she also needed this time with her parents and siblings. After a lifetime of basically taking them for granted, she treasured every moment with them, even when those moments happened over a phone line.
As she’d expected, her tale of Paul’s red-beet volcano had brought roars of laughter.
“If only you could have gotten a picture, Win,” her sister Lena said. “I would’ve loved to see you splatted with that mess.”