FOLLOWING SUPPER CLEANUP ON THURSDAY, PRISCILLA brushed past her mother in the kitchen, anxious to meet Chester at the phone shanty. She pulled her black sweater from the rack by the door, and she’d almost made a clean getaway when her mother cleared her throat. After holding her breath for a moment, Priscilla eased around and faced her.
“Priscilla, before you go on your walk . . .”
Mamm folded her arms across her chest and held her chin high in such a way that Priscilla knew she was trying to be firm—but Priscilla saw the slight twinkle in her eyes.
“I’d like for you to stop by the Zooks’ house. I have something for you to take to Rachel.”
Priscilla glanced at the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen. She loved Rachel Zook and enjoyed visiting with her, but Chester would be waiting.
“That boy will wait, Priscilla.” Mamm grinned as she left the kitchen, leaving no doubt that she did indeed know about the meetings at the shanty. She returned a moment later with a small lap quilt.
Priscilla had seen Mamm working on a pink quilt—of course it was for Rachel. Everything in Rachel’s life was bright pink, even her clothing, shoes, and socks. The walls of Rachel’s room were also painted pink, and everyone in the community contributed to the pink décor.
Bishop Ebersol allowed Rachel to dress in the untraditional color, and he often referred to her as one of God’s special blessings, which she truly was. Rachel was the same age as Priscilla, but in her mind she was only about five years old.
Priscilla took the quilt from her mother and studied it for a moment. She couldn’t believe how many different shades of pink formed the stars and border. “It’s beautiful, Mamm. I’m sure Rachel will love it.”
Her mother smiled. “I loved making it for her.”
Priscilla headed out the door, wondering how she could keep her visit brief. She wasn’t sure she’d ever had a short visit with Rachel.
She’d barely cleared the porch steps when she took off in a run. The Zook place wasn’t far down the road, but it was in the opposite direction from the phone shanty. She’d have to hurry.
Five minutes later she arrived on the Zook porch and tried to catch her breath. She folded the quilt over one arm and patted her cheeks for a moment, trying to ease the sting from the cool wind. She knocked on the door.
Mary and John Zook had fourteen children—more than anyone else in their district. Priscilla figured John Zook was happy that nine out of fourteen of those kinner were boys. Lots of help in the fields.
Priscilla wanted a large family too, but she thought six or seven kinner would be enough. She wasn’t sure how Mary kept up with fourteen, especially since they all still lived at home. Priscilla was pretty sure that Annie had just turned two, and the oldest boy, Ben, was twenty-one.
Priscilla tucked a strand of loose hair beneath her kapp as the wooden door opened. Mary Zook smiled through the screen, with Annie on one hip and two slightly older girls standing beside her. A smile lit the woman’s tired face.
“Priscilla, come in.” Mary eyed the quilt draped over Priscilla’s arm as she shifted Annie on her hip. “What’ve you got there?”
“Mamm made it for Rachel,” Priscilla said as she stepped into the large living room. She offered the quilt to Mary, hoping to make a quick exit. But Mary shook her head.
“Let me have one of the girls go get her. She’d be so disappointed if she knew you came calling and she didn’t get to see you.” Mary set Annie down as she spoke to one of the older girls—either Frieda or Elizabeth. Priscilla couldn’t remember who was who. They weren’t twins, but they looked a lot alike.
“I don’t want to disrupt your household so soon after the supper hour.” But Priscilla knew it was too late. Rachel would be downstairs soon. Wait on me, Chester.
Mary picked up Annie again, then eased her into a playpen filled with toys. “Are you excited about your wedding?”
“Ya. Very excited.” Priscilla felt her cheeks warm a bit, the way they did every time someone asked about her upcoming nuptials. She couldn’t wait to be Chester’s frau.
“I remember our wedding day like it was yesterday.” Mary’s brown eyes took on a faraway look, then she met eyes with Priscilla and laughed. “But we’ve stayed busy since then.”
Priscilla felt even more heat in her cheeks, unsure if Mary was referring to all the children they’d had or something else. Before she had time to decide for sure, she heard a familiar voice. And even though she knew she’d be late to meet Chester, the sound of Rachel’s sweet voice warmed her heart.
“Pre-Ceelia!” Rachel ran to Priscilla the way she always did and threw her arms around her. Rachel was several inches taller than Priscilla, and overall a large girl. As always, she was dressed in a bright pink dress with matching pink shoes and socks. Her prayer covering was white, but there were two pink flowers sewn on either side. Priscilla couldn’t breathe for a moment as Rachel engulfed her in a big hug.
She’d grown up with Rachel, but she couldn’t recall when her friend became so obsessed with the color pink. It must have been when they were both very young, because for as long as Priscilla could remember, Rachel required pink—on her person, in her room, and basically everywhere she went. Priscilla had comforted Rachel many times when they were places that weren’t pink. About five years ago, when Mary was sick, Priscilla and her mother took Rachel to the doctor for a cold. Rachel pulled a pink crayon from the pocket of her apron and colored on the Englisch doctor’s pretty white wall. She carried a pink crayon everywhere she went.
Mary tapped Rachel on the shoulder and spoke to her tenderly. “Careful, Rachel. You don’t want to hurt Priscilla.”
“I love Pre-Ceelia!” Rachel finally released Priscilla from the embrace.
“I love you too, Rachel.” She held the quilt out to her. “Mei mamm made this for you.”
Rachel brought both hands to her mouth and gasped, then she slowly took the quilt from Priscilla and brought it to her face. She inhaled as she pressed her face into it and mumbled something Priscilla didn’t understand.
“Move the quilt, Rachel, so we can understand you.” Mary tapped Rachel on the shoulder again, and Rachel brought the quilt away from her face.
“Danki to Pre-Ceelia’s mamm for my present.” Rachel buried her face in the quilt again.
Priscilla glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “You’re welcome, Rachel. I’ll tell Mamm how much you like it.” She smiled at Mary. “I guess I better go.”
Mary nodded, but Rachel pulled the blanket from her face like it was on fire. Her eyes grew round as she spoke. “I have something for you too!” She bounced on her toes. “I have a present for Pre-Ceelia!” She turned to Mary. “It’s in mei room, Mamm. I go get it!”
Rachel ran to the stairs and bolted up them two at a time. Priscilla bit her bottom lip and looked at the clock again.
“You’ve always been one of Rachel’s favorite people,” Mary said.
Priscilla smiled as guilt pinched at her heart. She shouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave, but Chester . . . he was surely at the phone shanty wondering where she was. “Rachel is one of my favorite people too.”
Rachel returned and handed Priscilla a letter-sized envelope. To Priscilla was written across it with pink crayon. “For your marriage day. Not to open until your marriage day!” She raised her shoulders, then dropped them slowly as she smiled. “It’s from God.”
“Danki, Rachel. This is very special.” Priscilla pressed the envelope to her chest. “Are you sure you don’t want me to open it now?”
Rachel shook her head so hard that Priscilla worried she would have a headache. When she finally stopped, she pressed her lips together and frowned. “No! God said only to open on your marriage day!”
Priscilla touched Rachel on the arm. “Okay. I promise to open it on my marriage—wedding day.” She looked at the clock again.
Rachel let out a heavy breath and nodded, and Priscilla put the envelope into her pocket. “I’l
l see you soon.” She turned to leave, but Mary snapped her fingers.
“Ach! I almost forgot. I have two of your mamm’s bowls from our last gathering. She sent home the leftovers with me. Let me just run and get them.” Mary eased around the playpen and scooted past Priscilla, Rachel, and the other girls toward the kitchen.
Priscilla forced a smile before her eyes landed on the clock.
Wait for me, Chester . . .
Chapter Three
PRISCILLA RAN AS FAST AS SHE COULD, LIFTING HER LEGS high as she made her way across the hayfield to the phone shanty. And for the third time this week, she had a case of the hiccups. Yards before she reached the meeting place, she could hear the phone ringing, but there was no sign of Chester. She picked up the pace as she wondered if maybe Chester stopped somewhere to try to call the shanty. Lots of folks in their community had cell phones, but neither Priscilla nor Chester did. Mostly it was out of respect for their parents, who were against any type of phone near the house. The families sharing the shanty also chose not to have an answering machine, even though Bishop Ebersol didn’t have a problem with it.
She stepped into the shanty and reached for the phone hanging on the wall just as another hiccup echoed within the small space. Please be Chester.
“Hello.”
“I’m looking for Chester Lapp.”
She stifled a sigh. “He’s not here right now. Can I take a message for him?” Priscilla picked up the pencil that was beside a small pad of paper they kept on a shelf underneath the phone.
“Yes, if you don’t mind. This is Joel Cunningham. I’m the building inspector, and we met yesterday.”
Priscilla took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly, afraid to ask . . . but needing to know. “Is everything okay? Did the house pass the inspection?” To her embarrassment, she hiccuped into the phone, then squeezed her eyes closed as she spoke. “I’m so sorry.”
There was a slight chuckle on the other end of the line. “No problem. Eat a spoonful of sugar.”
That was the second time she’d heard that. Before she could respond, the man continued.
“There are a few things I need to go over with Chester. Can you take my number and have him give me a call?”
Priscilla wrote down the phone number, promised to have Chester call him tomorrow, and hiccuped as she hung up. She tucked the number in the pocket of her apron with Rachel’s envelope before she headed for home, sorry she had missed Chester and fighting worry about what problems the building inspector may have found. Instead, she thought about what Naomi had said.
FRIDAY MORNING CHESTER FINISHED SANDING A BENCH he’d been working on all week. It was a special order, and Mr. Turner said it needed to be finished today so that the customer could pick it up Saturday morning. He knew it might mean staying late tonight, and he had hoped to get off early to go check on Priscilla. She’d never missed one of their Tuesday or Thursday meetings at the shanty. But Mr. Turner’s snappy tone didn’t leave much room for an argument. His boss hadn’t seemed himself lately. The elderly man had even barked at a customer for slamming the door when he entered the store. Chester wasn’t surprised that the patron left without buying anything.
He heard the bell chime on the front door, but he knew Mr. Turner was there, along with two other employees, so he didn’t get up, but instead started staining the bench with a light walnut color. He heard a woman’s voice talking to Mr. Turner . . . and then recognized it as Priscilla’s. He wiped his hands on a towel and turned around to see her entering the work area in the back of the store.
“I’m so sorry I missed you at the shanty.” She glanced over her shoulder and waited until the door shut behind her, then threw her arms around his neck. He squeezed her tightly before gently easing her away.
“Is everything okay?” He kissed her softly on the lips before she answered.
“Ya. I’m sorry. Mamm wanted me to take something to Rachel Zook, and it was hard to get away.” She grinned as her cheeks flushed a light pink. “I missed you.”
Chester kissed her again, keeping one eye on the door. “I missed you too.”
She bit her bottom lip. “The phone at the shanty was ringing when I finally got there. It was the building inspector.”
Chester tipped back the rim of his hat and rubbed his forehead. “Ya. He called me here at the shop this morning.”
Priscilla stared at him. “How bad is it?”
“It could have been worse, but Daed and me are gonna have to do some rewiring upstairs.” He shook his head. “Seems like a lot of work when we won’t be using electricity.”
“I know.” She frowned. “I can’t imagine us not living there forever.”
After everything he’d put into building this house for them, he sure hoped that they would live there forever. But now he could add wiring repair to the roof repair. It was going to be a challenge to have everything done by mid-November.
It was tradition for the bride and groom to spend as long as three months living with the bride’s parents. During that time, they would visit family and friends—sometimes stopping at several homes in one day. It was also when they would collect the bulk of their wedding presents. But both Chester and Priscilla were hoping to move into their new home two weeks after the wedding.
He cupped her cheek in his hand and gazed into her beautiful blue eyes. He didn’t want to think of the problems he’d had with the house—beginning with the foundation, which didn’t set right. Then the lumber for the frame was delayed, putting him behind schedule on the entire project. And now, these latest issues.
He pushed the thoughts from his mind, resolved to focus on the future and his new life with Priscilla. After a tender kiss, he said, “Do you know how much I love you?”
She smiled. “With all your heart.”
He reached down and squeezed her hand. “I guess I better get back to work. But I’ll see you at your haus on Sunday.” He gave her a quick wink.
As was customary, the church deacon would announce to church members on Sunday that Priscilla and Chester were getting married. Then her father would stand up and announce the date and time. Communion was held in October, and wedding publications were always announced during worship service within a few weeks after that. Most of the community already knew about the upcoming wedding, but publication was a long-standing tradition, and those who didn’t already know would clear their calendars for the first Tuesday in November. On the day of publication, Priscilla and Chester were allowed to skip church service and spend time alone at Priscilla’s house, and Priscilla would cook them a fine meal. He was looking forward to spending some time alone with her.
PRISCILLA STAYED IN THE SEWING ROOM FOR MOST OF the afternoon and tried to work on a new wedding dress, but the treadle sewing machine kept locking up. After a while, she gave the foot pedal a swift kick and moseyed to her room. She plopped down on the bed, her head filled with wedding plans. She was thankful that she’d already made her bridal attendants’ dresses. Naomi’s and Rose’s dresses were safely put away, with no chance of becoming doll clothes for Lizzie Lou. She was also thankful that Hannah had decided early on that she didn’t want to be an attendant because her baby was due the same week as the wedding. That had made it much easier on Priscilla. Otherwise, she would have been forced to exclude either one of her sisters or her lifelong best friend, since only two attendants were allowed.
After leaving Chester earlier in the day, she’d spent the morning helping her mother and Naomi clean the basement. With the wedding now three and a half weeks away, Mamm wanted every nook and cranny in the house clean. But Priscilla knew she needed to finish her wedding dress too.
She ran her hand along the intricate stitching of her red-and-white Lone Star quilt, knowing that she wouldn’t be sleeping alone beneath it for much longer. She couldn’t wait to be in Chester’s loving arms for the rest of her life.
Once they were in their own home, they would share Chester’s king-size bed, one he’d made just for them. Her
furniture would nicely fill one of the extra bedrooms in their new home. Leaning back on her hands, she studied her bedroom. Everything was in the proper place, and not much had changed over the course of her nineteen years. But as she took inventory of the life she’d lived in this room, somehow everything looked different to her today, each piece of furniture and keepsake reflective of her life up until now.
Daed had made her full-size bed when she seven years old, replacing Hannah’s hand-me-down twin bed. She could still remember the first time she slept in the “big girl bed,” tucked beneath a new set of sheets and quilt. She glanced at the matching oak dresser that came a few months after the bed; the top three drawers were stuffed with undergarments, extra kapps, socks, tights for the winter, and sweaters. The bottom drawer was filled with letters from relatives, Christmas cards she’d received, and books. The rocking chair in the corner of the room once belonged to her grandmother, and the clock hanging on her wall was a gift from her mother just last year. Her family and friends knew how much she loved clocks, especially handmade ones like the one from Mamm—enclosed in cedar with delicate gold hands, keeping the world on schedule. Priscilla loved to fall asleep at night to the gentle ticking.
It would all be going with her to her new home, and she was thankful for the familiarity her possessions would provide. She glanced to her left. Rachel’s envelope was on her nightstand. She thought about opening it, but recalled the promise she had made. Sweet Rachel.
It would be time to go help with supper soon, but for just a moment, she decided to indulge herself. She lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, visions of her wedding day swirling in her mind. Naomi and Rose would be by her side. Zeke and Abe would serve as Chester’s attendants. Mamm would cry, of course—just as she had when Hannah got married. Her friends and family would all bring lavishly decorated cakes and keepsake containers filled with candies, cookies, and all kinds of special goodies to be passed around the eck. There would be a meal of roascht and all the fixings bountiful enough to feed the family and friends in attendance. It was a perfect plan, and it was going to be a great day.
An Amish Wedding Page 20