An Amish Wedding

by Kathleen Fuller; Beth Wiseman Kelly Long

  “Naomi has everything ready to make your cake on Monday.” Mamm read from a list and checked as she went along.

  “Where is Naomi? She seems to go missing a lot.”

  Mamm tapped her finger to her chin. “Zeke Lapp was here the other day. I didn’t think too much about it, but now it wonders me if maybe they haven’t taken a fancy to each other. But now, of course, he’s back in Middlefield looking after his daed. You know his father cut his leg while chopping wood.”

  “Ya, Chester was disappointed that Zeke had to leave, so he’s planning to ask his friend John to fill in as an attendant.”

  Mamm was back to her list. “And everyone knows their duties as far as the food preparation. It will be a busy day on Monday with everyone coming here to get things ready. The extra propane ovens will be delivered on Monday also.” Check. “Your father and several other men are finishing up the temporary structure next to the house for the reception.” Check.

  Priscilla nodded. Her family had a large farmhouse with an especially big living room to host the service, but like most Amish homes, theirs wasn’t nearly large enough to accommodate almost four hundred guests. So her father, cousins, and friends of the family had built a framed structure right next to the house, and today they would cover the top and the sides with heavy blue plastic to keep it warm for guests. Additional tables and benches would be set up underneath. It was a common practice in their district, and Priscilla was glad to see that the temporary shelter hadn’t blown away. She shook her head to clear the negative thought as her mother went on.

  “You said you finished your wedding dress, ya?”

  Priscilla nodded.

  “And Naomi and Rose have both tried on their dresses?”

  “Naomi has. Rose is coming over this afternoon to pick hers up.”

  “Make sure she tries it on.”

  “I will.” Priscilla fidgeted with the ties on her prayer covering. She was thankful that she hadn’t had a case of the hiccups since their trip to the library, but things still weren’t coming together as she’d hoped. Chester said there was no way the house would be finished in time for them to move in two weeks after the wedding. She’d cringed when he told her it could be a couple of months, or longer. She knew that many newly married couples spent the first few months with the bride’s parents, but Chester had built them a lovely new home, and she was anxious to begin their life together in their own house.

  Chester, his father, and even Abe with his broken wrist had been working late into the night on the new home. But Chester said to be prepared for an extended stay with her parents. Another thing that wasn’t in her plan.

  She took a deep breath. God, I know that everything is in Your hands, and I will not question You. It was a prayer she had repeated daily, but she sometimes still felt disappointed. But she figured disappointment was better than worry. Worry had gotten her nowhere, it was a sin, and she knew her mother was right—it blocked the voice of God. She was resolved in knowing that her wedding and her life were in God’s hands.

  “Your father, Chester, and Abe will oversee the group arranging the benches, tables, and chairs.” Mamm walked into their large living room, then returned to the kitchen. “Naomi, Rose, and I will make sure the eck is positioned correctly for you, Chester, and your attendants.”

  Members of the church district would spend most of the day on Monday cooking, getting things ready, and also show up at six o’clock the morning of the wedding to help.

  “Oh. I also wanted to ask you if you want Aenti Mary Katherine to bake her special red velvet whoopee pies? I know Naomi will be making a special cake, and there will be lots of other cakes and desserts, but . . .”

  “Everyone loves Aenti Mary Katherine’s whoopee pies. I think that would be gut.”

  “Great. Let’s see . . .” Mamm tapped her pen to the pad, but they both looked up when they heard a buggy coming up the driveway. Priscilla walked to the kitchen window and peered outside.

  “It’s Rose.” Priscilla pulled the wooden door open and watched through the screen as Rose walked across the grass—clawing at her arms with both hands. She pushed the screen open and stepped aside so that Rose could come in.

  “Why are you scratching yourself like that?” Priscilla cringed as she watched her friend rubbing both arms atop her green dress.

  Rose shook her head as she continued to scratch. “I’ve got this horrible rash all over my arms.” She lifted one sleeve of her dress to show Priscilla the red bumps covering her arm from the elbow down. “It’s on both arms.”

  Mamm walked over. “How did you get this, Rose?” She eased Rose’s sleeve up farther and inspected.

  “It’s a long story, but let’s just say that a bouquet of flowers unexpectedly had some poison ivy in it.”

  “Are you putting anything on it?” Mamm asked as she lowered Rose’s sleeve.

  “Ya. Mamm got me something at the drugstore.” She pinched her eyes together as she began to claw at her arms again.

  “Wait right here, Rose.” Mamm turned to leave the room, but glanced over her shoulder. “I have something that will help.”

  “I have been itching all morning.” Rose’s face twisted into a deep frown.

  Priscilla watched as Rose scratched, and a minute later both turned as Priscilla’s mother came back into the room.

  “This is from the natural doctor, a blend of herbs and ointment.” She handed Rose a small plastic container. “Take this with you. Sarah Mae wandered into some poison ivy last year. This helped her a lot.”

  Priscilla remembered how miserable her sister had been. “How long will the itching last?”

  “I don’t know.” Rose lifted her sleeve again. “See how bad it looks.” She shook her head.

  Mamm patted Rose on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Rose. I hope it’s better by the wedding so you can enjoy yourself.” She smiled. “Use the salve. It should help.”

  After her mother excused herself, Priscilla went to get Rose’s dress. She returned a minute later and handed it to her friend. “Mamm said you should try it on.”

  Rose scratched at her arms. “I’m sure it’s fine, Priscilla. Do you mind if I don’t try it on right now? I am itching so much, and I want to go home and try this ointment.”

  Priscilla shrugged. “Sure. I understand.” It probably won’t fit because that just seems to be how things are going. She struggled to push the negative thought out of her mind.

  After Rose left, Priscilla pulled a loaf of bread from the oven, then tinkered about the kitchen. She put two glasses in the sink, wiped down the counter, and thought about what the next few weeks would be like.

  As was traditional, she and Chester would help with cleanup the next morning, and it was always the new bride and groom’s duty to wash all the clothes and linens. Her mother had laughed and said it was usually the only time an Amish man would do the laundry during his lifetime.

  She turned around when the screen door in the kitchen slammed and Naomi entered. Her sister walked straight to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of tea. She poured herself a glass and sat down at the table with a sigh.

  “Too bad Zeke had to go back to Middlefield,” Priscilla said. “Have you heard from him?”

  Naomi took a drink. “Why would I have heard from him?”

  “Oh, I just thought you might have.” She grinned at her sister.

  “I’m not going to talk to you about this, Priscilla.” Naomi hurried toward the living room, but there was a new bounce in her sister’s step. Priscilla smiled. Naomi had been playing matchmaker for everyone else for as long as Priscilla could remember. She hoped that Naomi had found someone special.

  FRIDAY EVENING CHESTER WAS TIRED AFTER WORKING on the house all day. He’d spent the early morning hours looking for a new job in town, but he wasn’t having much luck. He didn’t know how to explain to potential employers that he was fired for stealing money, so he just didn’t mention working for Mr. Turner, which left him with little work
experience to take under consideration, other than farming.

  He’d just pulled his suspenders off his shoulders when Abe walked into his bedroom. He quickly asked his brother if he was done in the bathroom. A hot shower was going to feel mighty good.

  “Ya, I’m done.” Abe ran a comb through his wet hair. “Mamm wanted me to remind you to put your marriage license in a place where you won’t forget it on Tuesday.” He shrugged. “I guess you could give it to me.”

  Chester stood perfectly still as he scanned his bedroom. Where did I put it? He and Priscilla had gotten their marriage license almost two months ago. He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand and rummaged through some papers, then quickly moved to the top drawer of his chest.

  “You lose your license, bruder?” Abe chuckled, but stopped right away when Chester glared at him.

  “It’s here somewhere.” He yanked open the second drawer, pretty sure he didn’t store it where he kept his underwear. Closing it, he turned to face Abe. He could feel the color draining from his face. “Priscilla will have my hide if I’ve lost our marriage license.” He shook his head. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

  “It wonders me if Mamm won’t have your hide too.” Abe grinned as he backed out of the room and shut the door.

  Chester sat down on the bed and scratched his forehead. Think, think. Where did I put it? He looked around his small room again and spotted Rachel’s envelope atop his nightstand. He’d managed to keep track of a picture from Rachel, yet he’d lost the one document necessary for him to marry Priscilla in four days.

  God, why is everything going wrong? He knew how important it was for Priscilla to have everything in order. It was just part of who she was, and this wedding was definitely an event that she wanted to run smoothly. He might not have questioned whether or not they were on the right path if she hadn’t, but with so much opposition . . .

  He let out a heavy sigh, knowing that he loved Priscilla with all his heart. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a wife and mother, and they balanced each other, with her necessity to have things organized while Chester so often focused on the moment to moment. And sometimes Chester was able to push back a little and let Priscilla know that the world would not come crashing down if everything didn’t run smoothly all the time. He knew that Priscilla trusted God’s plan for their lives, as he did.

  There’d been the problems with the house, her wedding dress disaster, change of plans for the cake, Chester losing his job, and now this. What else could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Ten

  PRISCILLA TRIED TO STAY FOCUSED ON CHURCH SERVICE this brisk Sunday morning, but her mind kept drifting. They were gathered in the Petersheims’ barn because Elizabeth and Elam’s house was small and couldn’t accommodate over a hundred people. Priscilla wasn’t sure how it housed Elizabeth, Elam, and their five children.

  This would be her last time to attend church as a single woman, and tonight would be her last time to attend a Sunday singing with Chester. Soon they’d start their own family, and someday their teenagers would gather on Sunday evenings.

  She glanced around the barn. As usual, the women were sitting on long wooden benches facing the men on the other side, and the bishop and deacons were in the middle. Priscilla smiled at Chester, and he returned the smile—sort of. Priscilla sensed by his expression that something was wrong. She hadn’t had time to talk to him before the service, but after lunch she’d see if something was bothering him.

  Naomi sat next to Mamm. Priscilla was disappointed that Zeke had been called back to Middlefield to tend to his daed, but she certainly understood. She had hoped Naomi the matchmaker might have found a match of her own. Rose sat two rows in front of Priscilla. She felt sorry for her friend, who scratched her arms through most of the service, but despite her poison ivy, Priscilla caught her and Luke exchanging smiles.

  She stifled a yawn and refocused on the service . . . though visions of her wedding in four days challenged her attention span, and within a few minutes her mind trailed. Chances were good that things were not going to go as she’d planned. She tried to recall when she’d become such a perfectionist, needing things to run smoothly all the time. Yes, she’d always dreamed that her wedding day would be special, but it was more than that, and Priscilla knew it. She thought back to what Naomi had said to her.

  When there was order in her life, she felt like she was on the right path, God’s path. When things fell apart, she questioned her actions, inactions, and everything that did or didn’t happen to cause the upheaval. As she pondered her past up to now, Bishop Ebersol’s voice suddenly boomed, and her eyes rounded as she held on to his words.

  “To question the Lord’s will is to not believe in His perfect plan.”

  Priscilla locked eyes with the bishop, then hung her head, knowing that his words were the essence of everything she’d been taught her entire life. Why haven’t I been living by that? Her perfection was not God’s perfection. She closed her eyes.

  I’m sorry.

  CHESTER HELPED THE MEN REARRANGE THE BENCHES and set up tables after the church service ended. It was chilly in the barn despite the propane heaters placed throughout, but Chester’s forehead dripped with sweat. How was he going to tell Priscilla that he couldn’t find their marriage license? There was a three-day waiting period in Pennsylvania, so even if they went tomorrow to get a new one, there was no way they could get married the following day.

  He helped Abe set out some additional folding chairs in preparation for the meal, although he didn’t have much appetite.

  “You find your license?” Abe grinned, and Chester felt his blood start to boil. He reminded himself that smacking Abe went against their ways.

  “No. I didn’t.” He shoved the last of the chairs up against the table. But when he turned back toward his brother, Abe wasn’t smiling.

  “Seriously? You didn’t find it?” Abe stroked his clean-shaven chin as his eyebrows drew inward.

  “No.”

  “What are you going to do? The wedding is in two days, and that ain’t long enough to go get another one.”

  “I don’t know, Abe!”

  “No need to holler, bruder.” Abe put a hand on Chester’s shoulder as he glanced around the barn at the other men. “I’ll help you look some more tonight.”

  Chester lowered his head, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t know where else to look.”

  “Will you tell Priscilla?” Abe lowered his hand and sighed. “Maybe you should wait.”

  “I’ve looked everywhere, Abe. It just isn’t there. I’m going to have to tell her.” He dropped his chin. “So much has already gone wrong, and now this.” He looked up at Abe. “We can’t even get married without that license, and everyone is already coming on Tuesday, tomorrow everyone will prepare the food, and . . .” He stopped when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Priscilla. She eased her way through all the men setting up tables and benches.

  “How’s my favorite husband-to-be?”

  Abe made a dash for the barn door. “See you later.”

  “They’re getting ready to bring out the food, so I was sent to make sure the tables were ready.”

  Chester looked around. “I think so.” He forced a smile and wondered how he was going to tell Priscilla that the wedding would have to be postponed.

  Fifteen minutes later he was seated next to Abe and his father, picking at his food while Priscilla and the other women scurried about, making sure everyone was taken care of.

  After the meal, he had the perfect opportunity to tell her. They were standing off to the side of the house, but when Priscilla started detailing the plans for Tuesday, he just didn’t have the heart to interrupt. She seemed to have made some sort of peace with the fact that so much had gone wrong.

  “It’s God’s will for us to be challenged,” she said. “But I love you so much, Chester. I can’t wait to be your frau.”

  Now as he rode alongside Abe in the buggy on the way home, he knew
that he would have to tell her the truth tonight at the singing. It would only make things worse if he kept putting it off.

  PRISCILLA BATHED HERSELF IN LAVENDER BUBBLE BATH that she and her mother had made recently, and the sweet smell reminded her of spring. By then, she would be Mrs. Chester Lapp.

  As she towel-dried her hair, she thought again about how this would be her last official Sunday singing. Lots of older folks still attended from time to time, but mainly it was the younger people, those who were of dating age.

  She’d prayed hard about the challenges that she and Chester had faced as the wedding drew closer, but she hadn’t had any more hiccups, and she was doing her best not to worry. She’d felt much more open and able to hear God’s guidance. Nothing was going to stop her from becoming Chester’s frau.

  After she dressed, she gathered up the Sunday vest and pants she’d made for him. If anything had gone right along the way toward the wedding, it was the clothes she made for Chester. Each seam was lovingly sewn and straight, and she couldn’t wait to give them to him.

  “I’m going, Mamm,” she said when she walked into the living room downstairs. She reached for her heavy black coat on the rack, then pulled her arms through the sleeves. “I saw Chester pulling in from my window.”

  “Enjoy yourself.” Her father looked above his gold-rimmed glasses and smiled. Her mother got up from the couch and gave Priscilla a hug.

  “Ya, have fun, dear.” She kissed Priscilla on the cheek. “Sarah Mae is with Naomi at the daadi haus, so your father and I are going to enjoy this nice fire and some quiet time.”

  Priscilla smiled. Her parents were still so much in love. “I won’t be too late.” She pulled on her black bonnet and headed outside, glad that the Petersheims’ house was close by. Close enough to walk if it hadn’t been so cold.