by Amy Lillard
Well, maybe not that last part. And she was really stretching it, wearing a clean dress in the middle of the week when she hadn’t fallen into a cow patty. But she needed her pride today more than she had ever needed it before. She needed to be able to hold her head up and say, Look at me. I’m worthy even if you don’t think I am.
But she knew those words weren’t fair. He hadn’t said she wasn’t worthy, only that he didn’t want any more children. And it was the one thing she wanted most in this world.
She pressed at the dark bags under her eyes. She wished she knew how to get rid of them. She bet the Englisch girls had a trick for it, but she had no idea what that might be. Those puffy, discolored half-moons told the tale of her sleepless night.
But the good news was she had come to terms with a lot of this mistake that had become her life.
First, she was going to stop pretending that she and Matthew had something more than a business-type relationship. It was no one’s business why they had gotten married and what it gave to each of them. Their personal relationship was no one’s business but their own. But she had to stop kidding herself. There were no more children in her future.
It wasn’t her dream, but she knew she would eventually come to accept it. She couldn’t be greedy with God’s blessings. She had five beautiful children. They might not have been born to her, but this misunderstanding had made them hers all the same. And she was going to keep her vow to Beth Byler and love those five as if they were her own, always and forever.
Second, she was moving out of the tiny little room off the kitchen. Sure, it shared a hallway with Matthew’s room, but it was still a little too much like servants’ quarters and she was no servant. She may not have a true wife’s standing in the house, but she would never have it if she allowed him to dictate every facet of her life. He might have set up the furniture in that room, but she was moving into the third bedroom upstairs. With Baby Grace. Matthew could have the lower level all to himself. Something he seemed to enjoy.
And third, she was going to make today and every day from this one forward the best day she could possibly have. She knew the deal now. She knew the truth. She had nothing else holding her back. She had these great children, a husband who loved them and cared for them all, including her. She wouldn’t complain about not having more. Some people had even less. Today was the day to have an attitude of gratitude just like that poster she had seen at Walmart in town. Come to think if it, next time she was there, she might buy one to hang on the wall of her new space. A reminder that she didn’t hurt anymore.
She checked over her appearance one last time, then turned on her heel and confidently made her way to the kitchen. It was time to start breakfast and get this day started. After all, this was the day. The first day of the rest of her life.
She plucked the baby from the crib, changed her diaper, blew little raspberries in the crook of her neck and rubbed their noses together in sweet Eskimo kisses. Gracie tucked Baby Grace onto her hip and breezed into the kitchen to get breakfast ready for them all.
She had placed the baby in her playpen and had the bacon frying when Matthew came into the kitchen still pulling his suspenders over his shoulders.
“Good morning.” She tossed the greeting to him and flashed him a big smile as if this was the way they greeted each other every morning.
He scowled, but she was used to the look. She turned back to her frying pan, resolve still firmly in place. Today was going to be a fantastic day. She wouldn’t allow it to be anything else.
Matthew mumbled something that sounded a little like a greeting, then reached around her to the coffeepot still sitting on the stove eye.
She nodded toward the counter to their left. “There’s a mug out there for you.”
His look went from grumpy to confused then back to grumpy again. He really was cute when he scowled like that. Or maybe she thought that because she knew what was behind it.
“Gracie, I—” he started as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Say no more. There’s nothing else to talk about.” She gave him another of her biggest smiles. “Can you wake up the boys for me, please?” she asked sweetly, then shook her head. “Never mind.” She turned off the fire under the bacon, then made her way to the stairs without once looking him full in the face. She might have a plan for how to get through this rough patch, but that didn’t mean it was easy.
She got the boys up and fed without breaking her stride. Or her smile.
But she was determined. She had made a mistake, but she was going to make sure this was the best mistake she had ever made.
All the while, she could feel Matthew watching her. She knew he couldn’t figure out what she was up to, but it was simpler than he could ever imagine and because of that, he would never realize the truth. She was just making the best of it all.
She could tell that he wanted to hang around until he figured out what had changed for her during the night, but he had to leave and take care of his work. There were barn chores to be done and fields to be worked. She thought he had said something about re-shoeing their buggy horse. So as reluctant as he was, he left the house looking back twice before he got to the barn.
Let him wonder, she thought to herself. She still had changes to make.
* * *
Matthew looked back toward the house and wondered once again what had happened to Gracie during the night. He felt terrible about their misunderstanding. Terrible didn’t even cover it. He was almost as devastated as she had been, but this morning . . .
She acted as if nothing had happened.
Well, that wasn’t exactly the truth. She was acting so contented, bright and cheerful. She hadn’t been this happy the entire time since he had married her. And on the heels of what had to be the worst news that she had received in a long while. She wanted a baby and he didn’t want any more children.
Actually, that wasn’t the truth. He could handle more children. He himself had come from a large family. The Amish were known for their large families. He would love to have more children. But the risks involved . . . He couldn’t get past the dangers. They just weren’t worth it. And if he gave his heart to another, how could he ask her to risk all for one more addition to their household?
But this is what she wants.
He pushed that voice away. This was what she thought she wanted. She had no idea. She hadn’t been down that road. She didn’t know what all it entailed. And telling her would do no good. She had her heart set on a baby. The one thing he wasn’t willing to give her.
But this morning . . . she acted as if the night before had never happened. As if he hadn’t dashed all her dreams.
And he felt like dirt. Lower than dirt. How could she even look at him? How could he even stand himself?
He couldn’t give her what she wanted and keep the promises he had made to himself. And to Beth. He owed Gracie that much.
With one last glance at the house, he turned back to oiling the bridle. He could wonder until the good Lord came back and he would never figure out the heart or the mind of a woman.
* * *
“What do you think, little girl?” Gracie looked at the baby, but tiny Grace had no opinion. At least none she was willing to voice.
Gracie had to admit, it seemed like a bigger task in person than it had in her mind last night.
She had sent the boys out to the garden to pull weeds. She wasn’t sure why anyone said it that way. There were no weeds in the plot the four of them had turned, hoed, and planted. It was grass, pure and simple. But grassing didn’t have the same ring to it as weeding.
With the boys occupied, she and Baby Grace had come upstairs to claim their new space. She wondered if they really needed some of the things in the room or if they could be tossed out. Then she reminded herself that all the items currently in her way belonged to her husband, not her. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t just pitch out things that weren’t hers. Which meant everything would have to be moved. All t
he furniture from her bedroom downstairs would have to be moved into this room, and all the furniture and forgotten items in this room would need to be hauled downstairs. But she could do this.
Plan in place, Gracie kissed the top of the baby’s head, dusted her hands, and got down to work.
* * *
“How was your day?” Matthew casually glanced toward Gracie across the supper table.
Gracie passed him the bowl of green beans and gave him another one of those beautiful and annoying smiles. “Great. And yours?”
I could think of nothing but you and how you’ve changed. Did I do this to you? Why don’t I like it?
“Fine. Jah, uh, fine.” He scooped out some green beans for Henry, who groaned.
“Da-at.”
Matthew ignored him.
“Go ahead and eat,” Gracie said. “I’ll fix the kids’ plates.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, but he no sooner got the words out of his mouth than she jumped up from the table and started filling plates.
“I wouldn’t hear of it,” she chirped in that over-bright voice, that over-bright smile still gracing her lips. He hated them both. What had happened to his Gracie?
He felt like a heel, eating while she bustled around filling plates and cups and otherwise doing everything for everyone.
He wanted to yell at her to sit down and eat, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t do any good. This was all part of whatever game she was playing. Or maybe it was his punishment for misleading her, however unintentional.
You could change your mind.
He pushed the voice away. Now was not the time.
“There.” She finished getting everyone something to eat and returned to her chair.
At least now he could eat in peace. Which meant he could eat without having her rushing here and there trying to see to everyone’s needs.
She jumped up and snatched his water glass from in front of him. “Let me get you some water. Hold on a second.”
Before he could protest, she rushed into the kitchen. She returned only a few seconds later with his refilled glass in one hand and the pitcher in the other, just in case.
“There you are.” She set his glass in front of him and settled back into her seat.
He just stared at her, watched her, and she pretended not to notice. He wasn’t sure when everything would go back to normal, but that day couldn’t come soon enough.
* * *
It was amazing what a person could accomplish when they kept a positive attitude. Now that Stephen was out of school, she enlisted his help as well. He and Henry watched the shop and the twins while she and the baby carved out their new space in the upstairs bedroom.
She had found some furniture movers she was certain Beth had used to clean for church and placed them under the furniture to drag it to the staircase. Whether the piece was going up or down, she cushioned the stairs with the same quilt they had used at the end-of-year picnic at school and pushed the furniture to its new place. It wasn’t easy, but it felt good to accomplish it by herself. She didn’t need anyone’s help. She could do everything she needed all by herself.
Except for the crib.
She propped her hands on her hips and studied the spindly thing. It didn’t have a flat enough side that she could turn it on to push it up the stairs. And she certainly couldn’t pull it up by the legs. It had casters, so it was no problem getting it to the staircase, but up was another matter altogether.
“What do you think, Baby Grace?” she asked the infant.
On hearing her name, the baby flapped her hands, waving them in the air in front of her while kicking her feet to show her joy. Otherwise she had no opinion on the matter. Or so it seemed.
“You should have an opinion,” Gracie said. “After all, it’s your bed.”
“Who are you talking to?”
Gracie whirled around to find Matthew standing behind her, that usual scowl wrinkling his brow. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Obviously.”
She stopped, giving her heart time to return to its normal rhythm.
“Well?” he asked.
“Hmmm?”
“Who were you talking to?”
She laughed nervously. She hadn’t been prepared to see him so soon, and her happy, Proverbs 31 wife demeanor had slipped a notch or two. “The baby.”
He looked from her to Baby Grace, then back again. “Jah. Okay.” His tone seemed to suggest she might be losing it.
“Well, you know. They say it improves language skills. To talk to babies. That’s why younger children in a family usually speak clearer than their older siblings did at the same age. Because they hear the older kids talking. And the older kids didn’t have anyone but their parents. And . . .” She trailed off. She was babbling and that didn’t make her appear confident and happy. Time to shut up, Gracie.
He just studied her for a moment, looking, watching. As if whatever ailed her would manifest itself while he stared.
“Jah. So . . . what are you doing here?” she asked.
His frown deepened. “I live here.”
Another nervous laugh. “What are you doing home at this time of day?”
“It’s almost noon. I came in to eat.”
Almost noon? Where had all the time gone? “Jah. Of course.” She gave yet another forced laugh. “I was just about to go make us all something.”
He looked around. “Where are the boys?”
“Minding the shop. Which means sitting outside the shed playing marbles.”
“I didn’t see them when I came in.”
Her heart gave a stutter. “That’s where I told them to be.” She rushed over to the window and looked toward the shed that served as their little home store. The boys were nowhere to be seen.
“Watch the baby,” she said. Then she rushed out of the house, calling their names as she ran.
No answer.
She wasn’t going to panic. Panicking would not help anything. She needed to keep a clear head. She would find them. She had to. And they had to all be okay.
Clear head, she reminded herself.
Pepper. The name rose into her thoughts like a shooting star. Pepper was always with the boys. If she wasn’t around, then she was wherever they were.
Gracie gave a shrill whistle and called her name. “Pepper! Pepper!” If they had gone so far away that they couldn’t hear, then maybe Pepper would. A dog’s hearing was so much better than a person’s. And with any luck she would come running, and the boys would take off after her.
“Where are they?” Matthew came out onto the porch, looking this way and that as he spoke.
“I don’t know,” she said, exasperation tainting her voice. How had this happened? How had she gotten so involved with moving her things into the spare upstairs bedroom that she had forgotten to watch out for four little boys?
She whirled on Matthew. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching the baby?” How could he leave her all alone in the house?
“She’s fine,” he said.
And that’s exactly what she’d thought about the boys too. Now where were they? No one knew. “Pepper!” she called again. “Pepper!”
One day of trying to be the best wife a man could ask for regardless of the sham that was their marriage, and she couldn’t maintain. She couldn’t manage more than twenty-four hours. How pathetic was that?
Then she saw them. Four straw hats lying in the dust. The boys were gone, but their hats were still there.
“Stephen!” she cried. “Henry! Benjamin! Thomas! Stephen! Pepper!”
“Mamm,” Stephen said. “Why are you hollering at us?”
She whirled around, so many emotions zinging through her. Had he just called her Mamm? Where had he been? Where were the other boys? Why was he so dusty?
“Stephen.” She pulled him to her, the gratitude of having him safe winning over all else. Tears rose into her eyes. He was fine, and he had called her Mamm. “Where are Henry and the twins?”
He pointed toward the crawl space cover that had been moved aside. “Still under the house.”
“Under the—” she started. “Why are they under the house?”
“We thought we heard kittens.”
She laughed a bit, even though her tears still threatened. “Kittens.” She ran a hand down his dusty hair and cheek. “Go tell them to get out from under there. If the mama kitten picked that place to have her babies, she thought it was safe. Let her have that. If they’re under there, they’ll be out soon enough.”
“Jah, Mamm.” He smiled at her, then ran back to the crawl space entrance. He disappeared in an instant and she could hear their muffled voices as Stephen relayed her message.
Now back to Baby Grace.
She heard her screams the minute she walked in the door. Not hurt or hungry, but angry. Sheer lividness.
“Oh, baby,” she crooned, picking up Baby Grace and cradling her close. She braced one arm behind her head and the other under her bottom, but Baby Grace was beyond consolation. At least easy consolation.
She kicked her feet and arched her back, fighting Gracie with all her strength. She didn’t know something so small could be so strong. And a quote came to mind. Though she be but little she is fierce. Some Englisch writer said it a long time ago. She only remembered it because of a girl on her hurricane relief team. She was short in stature but worked twice as hard as any man. She had that saying on a T-shirt, as if to remind them all of who she was.
Baby Grace was little. But she was fierce.
Gracie struggled to keep her hold on the baby and had almost succeeded in getting a good solid grip on the child when a scream sounded from outside.
She pressed the baby to her and rushed from the house.
Henry was crying, holding his leg with one hand as he clung to his father with the other.
Matthew. She had almost forgotten he was there. He was trying to get a look at the injury, but Henry was having none of it. Gracie could see the blood seeping between his fingers.
“Mamm,” he cried. He turned loose of his father, then rushed to her.
She didn’t even have time to relish in the fact that he had called her Mamm when he hit her full force, grabbing her around the hips and slamming into her.