A Family for Gracie

by Amy Lillard

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Did you get a driver for tomorrow?” Gracie looked at Matthew across the supper table.

  They had to go to the doctor and have Henry’s arm looked at, and most probably a new cast put on. Hopefully. The one he had now was such a light color that it had picked up dirt from everywhere he went. Gracie shuddered every time she looked at it.

  “Jah.” Matthew nodded and swallowed. “He’ll be here at ten to pick up the two of you.”

  The two of—“You’re coming too, jah?”

  He shook his head. “I have too much work to do. I got so far behind . . . before the wedding.”

  She was thankful that he didn’t bring up Beth. The children were doing their best to adjust, and they didn’t need any reminders. “But I thought—” She stopped.

  “You thought what?”

  Gracie could feel the children’s eyes on them. They were paying close attention to every word, soaking it in, gauging the atmosphere according to body language and tone, whether they realized it or not. She measured her words carefully. “I thought you were coming too.” After all, Henry was his son. She might be his mother now, but the time had been short. They still thought of her as Gracie. Not mamm. Her taking him to the doctor was akin to sending him with a distant aunt. Or the babysitter.

  “I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression.” But he didn’t sound very sorry. He sounded . . . bored, as if matters of the doctor and appointments fell onto her side of the chores list. She supposed the Englisch sent their children all over with a nanny; this was about the same thing. And most of them turned out all right. Didn’t they?

  * * *

  Matthew watched Gracie from across the table under lowered lids. He didn’t want her to know that he was watching her. She had been acting strange ever since . . . Sunday at church. That was when it all started. She seemed distant, almost preoccupied, but he couldn’t say why. She seemed extra attentive with the children, especially the baby, and for that he was grateful. They needed a woman around, a mother’s touch. And Gracie was as fine a mother as he could have wished for them.

  So why did he resent her?

  Jah. He admitted it. He resented her. She had won his family over in a matter of weeks. They all depended on her for food, clean clothes, a bandage when they got hurt.

  And during all this she managed to clean out the shop, get it stocked and ready with the products that were currently available, and even open for business. She never missed a cousins’ day at Abner and Eunice’s, and through it all she had a smile on her face.

  So what had he done? He had shoved a little more onto her plate. Sure, tomorrow there was an auction in New Albany. Danny Yoder had already hired a driver and a couple of them were going over and splitting the costs. He could cancel that. It wasn’t like it would affect much. But why? His children preferred to be with Gracie.

  That was the way with mothers, was it? He couldn’t remember. It had been such a long time since Beth had been what he would have called a regular mother that he had forgotten about all the things she had done for Stephen and Henry when they were babies. But after the twins were born, everything shifted, and they started to follow him, spend more time with him.

  “Is that all right with you?” he asked.

  She nodded, a little more enthusiastically than necessary. “Jah, of course. Are you okay taking care of the baby?”

  He prayed the horror didn’t show on his face. He couldn’t take care of the baby. She hated him. If Gracie left her with him . . . she would cry all day and make herself sick. He didn’t think either one of them deserved that. “I thought you would take her with you.”

  She thought about it a moment. “And the twins will stay here with you?”

  He told her about the auction, leaving out the part that he could cancel. Fact was, he didn’t want to cancel. There were a few things listed that he needed if he could get them at a fair price, and since he had gotten such a late start farming this year, he needed all the fair prices he could get.

  “I don’t think I can handle all four of them and take care of Henry.”

  “Maybe Eunice can keep them for the afternoon.”

  “Maybe.” But the tone of her voice was doubtful. “Or Anna.”

  A stab of conscience seared him. He could forgo the auction. Any other time that was exactly what he would do. He had done so many times for Beth, when they had forgotten about one thing or another and double scheduled on the same day. So why wouldn’t he do the same for Gracie?

  He had no idea.

  * * *

  Thankfully, Eunice was more than happy to watch the twins and Baby Grace while Gracie took Henry in for a checkup. As expected he came out of the casting room boasting an eye-watering orange cast despite her best efforts to talk him into a staid blue one that in two days wouldn’t look like it had been thrown into the pigpen. But she had learned one true thing where Henry was concerned: pick the battles. And frankly, she admired his spunk. She wished she had a little more of that ability to say what was on her mind and accept what people said back to her. Right now she had neither.

  Henry, on the other hand, was always into one thing or another. If she corrected him on every little infraction, she would never stop speaking his name. That wouldn’t be healthy for either one of them. And if it meant that he had an orange cast that might literally glow in the dark, so be it.

  The doctor said his arm was healing right on schedule, and he should only have to wear the cast another three weeks. That was good news. The bad news was that meant three more weeks of having to stay on him to keep it dry, three weeks of no swimming, and going to the end-of-the-school-year picnic in a cast. She knew he was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to play in the sprinkler and some of the other fun activities that involved water, so she had promised herself to take him swimming the day the cast came off. Even if for fifteen minutes.

  The driver took them by Eunice and Abner’s so they could pick up Baby Grace and the twins. The group of them made it home just in time to pick Stephen up on the road as he walked home from school. The driver was good-natured about all the extra passengers and laughed along with them as they piled into the back seat and started down the road once more.

  Of course when they pulled into the lane that led to their house, Matthew was nowhere to be seen. Gracie tried not to be disappointed. She paid the driver in cash, then gave him a couple of bottles of lotion for his wife and a jar of persimmon pie filling. He was a good driver and she vowed to call him when they went back to take Henry’s cast off. She hoped he would be available.

  “Okay, everybody in the house. Let’s see what needs to be done.”

  They all grumbled but trudged up the steps and across the porch. “You know there’s lemon cake in the kitchen.”

  Their steps hurried until they practically raced to the table to get their afternoon snack.

  Stephen got down plates and cups while Gracie unbuckled the baby from her carrier seat and placed her in the infant swing. She hoped that would keep Baby Grace occupied for a bit while she got the cake served and the milk poured. Then she would mix up some formula and feed her as well. Gracie’s snack would have to wait a little longer. But wasn’t that the way of motherhood? She had watched Eunice eat last at every meal, making sure that her husband and children were settled and fed before she got her own food. Some would say that it was a sacrifice, and she supposed it was a little. But it was more of a calling. That’s what motherhood was. It was a calling to care for another, to keep the family going, to put these tiny people above yourself, no matter what.

  She had thought fatherhood was the same, but after Matthew’s attitude yesterday over her and Henry going to the doctor without him, she wasn’t so sure.

  Gracie pushed that thought away and heated a bit of water to mix the formula. Baby Grace seemed to be able to keep it down better if it was warm and not straight from the fridge. Behind her the other children chattered. Suddenly she felt sorry for Beth. Not b
ecause she died, but because she was missing out on her children’s lives.

  If you’re up there watching, she prayed, I hope I do right by you. Your kids are precious. And I promise to always treat them as my very own.

  “Gracie,” Stephen called.

  She turned to him, her thoughts centering on the here and the now.

  “Grace needs you, Gracie.” Stephen made a face. “That’s kind of hard to say.”

  “It is,” Gracie agreed. “I’ve been calling your sister Baby Grace.”

  He nodded. “Baby Grace. I like that.”

  “Me too,” the other boys chorused.

  “And,” she said, plunging ahead with something she had been wanting to say to all the children, but she hadn’t had the opportunity. It seemed every time all four boys were in the same room together there was a scuffle of some sort, or a disagreement, and there hadn’t been any time for talking about other things. “You can call me Mamm if you like.”

  They seemed to think about it, but no one said anything one way or the other.

  Gracie let the matter drop. No sense running it into the ground. They either would or they wouldn’t, and only time would tell.

  * * *

  It was almost dark by the time the driver dropped him off at the house. All in all it had been a good day. He needed it, just a day to not worry about anything other than whether or not to bid on a saw blade or have sweet tea with lunch. How long had it been since he had been able to drop his worries? So long ago that he almost felt guilty staying out so late. But it wasn’t entirely his fault. The plow that Danny Yoder wanted to bid on was one of the last items to go up on the auction block. Since it was his main reason for the trip, no one wanted to tell him they needed to leave. But the kicker was Danny didn’t win the plow. In fact none of them bought anything other than a hot dog at the concession stand. But he wasn’t going to call the day a failure. It was a roaring success, if only to take a little more of the weight off his shoulders.

  But now he was ready to be at home. Ready to see his boys, see if there were any supper leftovers that he could eat and . . . ignore Gracie.

  He stopped on the porch, not going inside. Not moving at all. Ignoring Gracie. That was exactly what he had been doing lately. Ignoring her, all the while coexisting with her, talking with her about matters in their household, but otherwise pretending that she wasn’t there. Why?

  Because if he didn’t she would consume his every thought. And he had no idea why. Maybe because she was a bit larger than life. She was perfect. Everyone loved her. She helped out every time she was needed and whoever needed it. She rescued lost dogs and gave them a home and carted the baby around in that glorified bedsheet she had found somewhere. And he found himself wanting to know more about her. Favorite color, how it had been when she went to the coast to help the hurricane victims. Had she done that more than once? Was she enjoying the family? Was she happy?

  He wanted her to be happy, and the thought terrified him. If he wanted her happy then it meant he cared, and he didn’t want to care about her. He was afraid to care for her. Afraid that if he did, one thing would lead to another and he would lose her just like he had Beth. So it was better that he ignored her. He kept his distance and he avoided her at every turn.

  He sucked in a fortifying breath, then opened the door to his own house, feeling a little like a stranger.

  There was a lamp lit on the living room table and a faint glow coming from the kitchen. He figured the lamp there was lit too, showing the way and waiting for him to come home.

  It was late. Later than he had thought. The boys were in bed. Gracie had surely already put the baby down. And she herself could have already called it a day. The house was quiet, but welcoming. And he basked in the warmth he felt. It truly was a home now, and all because of Gracie Glick Byler. Just thinking the words sent shafts of fear spearing through him. It was what he wanted and what petrified him all at the same time.

  As quietly as possible he made his way to the kitchen. As he suspected, a lamp was there, illuminating his way. And a note lying in the place where he usually sat.

  Please wake me up when you get home.

  I have something I need to talk to you about.

  Gracie

  The words sent anxiety coursing through him. Something had happened while he had been playing hooky from being a father, something terrible had happened. Heart pounding, he made his way to the room she shared with the baby.

  He knocked lightly on her door and opened it before she said anything.

  She was sitting on her bed, book in hand. The soft light from the oil lamp cast a golden glow around her, but not enough to pierce all the darkness. Her hair was down, pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck and covered with a faded pink bandana. He glanced over to the crib where the baby slept. At least she was okay. She might not like him, but he would die a thousand deaths if anything happened to her.

  “I got your note,” he said quietly. “What’s happened?” He hated asking, knowing that he wasn’t going to like the answer. Why had he stayed out so late? He should have been here with her, for her.

  Gracie, beautiful Gracie, frowned. “Nothing’s happened.”

  He returned her look, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Nothing had happened? Why the note? “What? Henry?” He had his doctor’s appointment this morning, a checkup and a new cast.

  “Fine. He got to get the orange cast this time.” He opened his mouth to ask why she hadn’t talked him into something more . . . Amish, but she cut him off before he could utter a single word. “I tried. But you know how stubborn he can be.”

  Matthew could only nod. “If Henry’s fine . . .” And the baby was fine. “Why the note?”

  She placed one finger in her book to hold her place. From where he stood he couldn’t see what she was reading. Martyrs Mirror or some book she picked up somewhere. It was all the same to him. “I wanted to remind you that the end-of-the-school-year picnic is tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” When had he lost track of the time? He didn’t think that was for another week or so. And why did she have to give him a heart attack with that note of hers when she could have told him that on paper?

  “I know it will mean a lot to Stephen to have you there. He could talk of nothing else when he got home today.”

  Matthew shook his head. His heart rate had returned to normal, as did his sense of responsibility. “I can’t make it tomorrow.” He had been gone all day. He needed to stay at home and catch up on chores, not picnic. Besides, there would be other picnics, jah?

  “Matthew.” Her voice was soft, nearly chastising, but not quite. That wasn’t Gracie’s style.

  “It’s simply not possible. I have all the work I didn’t get done today, plus tomorrow’s work waiting for me.”

  She pressed her lips together but didn’t say anything. She simply stared at him, then shook her head. “Okay.” Her expression went from disappointed to unreadable.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he thought he needed to add that. He just did.

  “Jah.” The one word was a bit clipped. She gave him one last cool look, then opened her book once again.

  She might not have chastised him, but she certainly knew how to dismiss a man.

  And suddenly he found himself wanting to stay. Just to talk, just to be near her. How crazy was that? And what good would it do? So he would know exactly what he was missing when he went back to his own room? No, danki. He would pass on that one.

  “Uh, good night,” he said and ducked out of her room. He closed the door behind him but held on to the knob as if he wanted to open it again, walk inside and be with her. Regardless of consequences.

  Even stranger, he wanted to kiss those thinned lips and see if he could get them to relax into a smile. Have her tell him all her secrets.

  But if she told hers he would be obliged to tell his own, and that was something he wasn’t prepared to do.

  With one last look
at the door, Matthew turned and made his way down the hall to his own room.

  * * *

  Disappointment didn’t quite cover how she felt the next morning as she got the kids ready to go to the picnic. Stephen was crushed that his dat had already left for the day before he even got up. But he tried not to let it show. The other boys didn’t notice, but Gracie could tell.

  It felt like nothing short of a miracle that she could get them up, dressed, and into the buggy and be on time for the picnic, but it happened. She was still a little surprised as she spread their quilt out on the grass in the schoolyard. Children were playing, running with each other, coming up to their parents, laughing and having a wonderful time just being together.

  Strangely enough it made her think about the time that she and Matthew had gotten lost on a back-country road. That time seemed a million years ago and yet the memories were still so sweet. She had thought then that everything would be different than it was now—the same as it was then, him laughing, smiling, and enjoying himself—but once they got married everything changed. Why?

  “Gracie! Gracie!” Stephen came running up, his smile as wide as the horizon. “We’re going to have a three-legged sack race. Have you ever been in a three-legged sack race?”

  She bit back her laughter. “Not recently, no.”

  “Henry’s going to race with me, okay?”

  There was a split second when she wanted to tell him no, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Henry deserved a little fun and if this brought the boys closer together . . .

  “Tell him to be careful if he falls. He doesn’t need to be banging that cast against the ground.”

  Stephen beamed at her. “I will, Gracie. But don’t worry. We’re not going to fall.”

  Surprisingly enough, they didn’t. And Henry even managed to join in the softball game. Though it was a little hard for him to hit the ball with one arm in a cast. All in all, everyone seemed to have an enjoyable time. But Gracie felt . . . isolated. She had never felt this way before. She was used to being part of the action, among the families even if she wasn’t a part of them. But that wasn’t the case today. She loved these children, but they weren’t solely her responsibility and yet that is exactly what had happened.