A Seat by the Hearth

by Amy Clipston

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Mark chuckled as they moved to lift another bench. But his thoughts were still with Priscilla.

  SIX

  “WHY CAN’T WE STAY FOR LUNCH?” ETHAN ASKED as he and Priscilla walked to her father’s horse and buggy.

  “I already told you. I can’t share meals with the other members of the church until after my shunning is over.” Priscilla opened the buggy’s door for him. “I have to complete three classes with the bishop and ministers, before we can stay for lunch.”

  “What kind of classes?”

  “It’s sort of like Sunday school at the church we visited in Baltimore. The bishop and ministers are reminding me what our beliefs are.”

  “So you can’t have lunch with everybody after church until your classes are done?”

  “That’s right.”

  Ethan rubbed his chin as he frowned. “But I want to eat lunch with Mammi and Daadi.”

  “Those are the rules.” She pointed to the buggy. “Climb in.”

  Ethan climbed in and then turned toward her. “How are Mammi and Daadi going to get home if we take their buggy?”

  “They’re going to get a ride with one of our neighbors.”

  “Priscilla!” Cindy called as she rushed after them. “Wait a minute!”

  Priscilla turned toward Cindy. “Why aren’t you in the member-only meeting?”

  “Because I’m not a member.”

  “What?” Priscilla felt her eyes widen. “But aren’t you twenty-two?”

  Cindy nodded, the ties of her prayer covering bouncing off the shoulders of her teal dress. “I am, but I haven’t joined yet.” Her expression clouded as a frown turned down her lips. “I’m sure Mark and Laura told you we lost our mamm five years ago.”

  “Ya, Mark did.” She touched Cindy’s arm. “I’m so sorry. Your mamm was a sweet, loving, and kind woman.”

  “Danki. Ya, she was.” Cindy took a deep breath. “It’s been tough since we lost her, and I just haven’t felt like I’m ready to make a commitment to the community. I can’t really explain it, but I guess I’m still a little lost without her.”

  “I understand.” Priscilla’s heart cracked open with grief at Cindy’s loss.

  “We didn’t get to talk much earlier, and I want to tell you I’m really froh you’re back. Laura told me she feels like a prayer has been answered. She really missed you.”

  Priscilla’s heart warmed as tears stung her eyes. “Danki. That’s really sweet of you to tell me that.”

  Cindy pointed to the buggy. “And I wanted to meet your sohn.”

  “That would be nice.” Priscilla smiled as she walked over to the passenger side of the buggy. “Ethan, please come and meet mei freind. She’s Mark’s younger sister.”

  Ethan hopped out of the buggy and shook Cindy’s hand. “Hi. I’m Ethan.”

  Cindy smiled, her pretty face lighting up. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Cindy Riehl.”

  “You’re tall like Mark.” Ethan pointed to Priscilla. “You and Mark are taller than my mom. She’s short.”

  Priscilla and Cindy laughed.

  “Ya, that is true,” Priscilla said. “Most people are taller than I am.”

  Cindy turned back to Priscilla. “I’ll let you get home. I hope I’ll see you again soon. Florence sews with your mamm often, so maybe I’ll see you at a quilting bee.”

  “That would be nice.” Priscilla gave her a quick hug. “Danki for coming to talk to me.”

  “Gern gschehne,” Cindy said. “Have a gut day.”

  Priscilla and Ethan climbed into the buggy and waved to Cindy as Priscilla guided the horse toward the road. The skill had come back to her immediately. At least her father hadn’t questioned her abilities with a horse and buggy.

  “The service was so different from our church back in Baltimore,” Ethan began. “I didn’t know what they were saying, and it was long, but I stayed quiet, just like you said.”

  “Gut.” Priscilla patted his leg. “You were very well behaved.”

  “You need to teach me a lot more Dutch,” Ethan continued. “If you teach me how to speak it, I can understand better. Will the teacher speak Dutch in school?”

  “No, they speak English in school.”

  “Oh good.” Ethan glanced out the window. “I can’t wait to go to school and meet other kids. Mark told me it will be a one-room schoolhouse. That’s different from my school in Baltimore.”

  Priscilla stared out the windshield as Ethan talked on. Her thoughts spun with her worries about rejoining the community. Laura and the other women in her family had made her feel welcome, which was a relief. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe the members of the community would accept her back as one of their own. Still, she couldn’t erase the feeling she got when all the eyes in the church were staring holes into her back during the service. Sitting in front of the bishop and ministers, she’d felt like a sinner on display.

  If she didn’t feel like she belonged in her own church district, how would she ever feel like she belonged in the community as a whole?

  Later that afternoon Priscilla came downstairs and found her parents sitting in the family room in their favorite chairs. Mamm was reading what looked like a devotional while Dat concentrated on a copy of The Budget.

  Mamm looked up from her book. “Where’s Ethan?”

  “He’s reading.” She pointed to the stairs. “I told him to take a nap, but he said only babies nap.”

  Mamm snickered. “That sounds like something he’d say.”

  Priscilla lingered by the bottom step and watched her father as he continued to study the newspaper. Her heart cried for them to work out their differences and somehow build a loving relationship. But how could they if he wouldn’t even look at her?

  Mamm cleared her throat as she stood. “I’m going to go spend some time with Ethan.” Mamm gave her an encouraging smile and nodded toward Dat before making her way up the stairs.

  Priscilla fiddled with the skirt of her dress as she crossed the room and then sat down on the sofa across from Dat. She folded her hands in her lap and waited for her father to acknowledge her.

  After several moments she took a deep breath. “Dat.”

  “Hmm?” he responded with his eyes still focused on the newspaper.

  “Would you please look at me?”

  He folded the paper, which rustled in loud protest, and then met her gaze over the top of his reading glasses. “What?”

  What did she want to say? As soon as he’d met her gaze, her words evaporated like a puddle on a hot summer day.

  With a frown he began to open the paper again.

  “Wait.” She held up her hand to draw his attention back to her. “I want to know if you’re froh that I’m starting the classes.” How she hated the desperation radiating in her tone. Why was she so eager for his approval?

  Because he was her father, and he’d never shown an ounce of satisfaction or pride toward her. All she’d ever wanted was his love.

  “That’s what you were supposed to do.” His voice was flat and emotionless as he opened the paper again. “After all, you’re the one who left the community and went to live with an Englisher. You got yourself shunned, so now you have to face the consequences.”

  Her pain and sadness morphed into anger and then surged through her veins, pushing her to her feet. “Why can’t you at least acknowledge that I’m trying to fit in again? Why can’t you give me a chance to prove I’m going to complete the classes and make you proud?”

  His eyes narrowed. “We’ll see after the shunning is over. You haven’t completed your classes yet or been accepted back into the community.”

  “So you think I’ll fail?” Furious tears filled her eyes.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No, you didn’t say it out loud, but you’re thinking it.” She pointed to him. “You’ve always expected me to fail.”

  “That’s not true.” He shook his head.

  “Ya, it is true.” Her voice
shook. “That’s why you wouldn’t let me work on the farm with you. You didn’t think I could handle training the horses.”

  “I never said that.” He placed the newspaper on the end table beside him. “Training horses is a difficult job, and it’s no place for a maedel.”

  “Right.” She folded her arms over her middle. “Only buwe should work on a horse farm, and you resented that Mamm could only give you a maedel.”

  “You need to stop talking like that.” His loud voice echoed throughout the room.

  “It’s the truth,” she continued, her body shaking with boiling emotion. “You were disappointed when the doctors told her she couldn’t have any more kinner because you wanted an heir. You didn’t want me. You wanted a bu, so you ignored me. All I could do was learn how to quilt, sew, and cook as well as Mamm to prove I wasn’t as stupid as you thought I was. But nothing I did mattered, did it?”

  “I never said you were stupid.”

  “No, you didn’t, but your constant criticism has shown me over and over that I’m your biggest disappointment.”

  “I don’t think this is an appropriate Sunday discussion.”

  “Why? Because the truth hurts?” She nearly screamed the words as tears trickled down her cheeks. She brushed them away. She couldn’t let him see how much his disapproval cut her to the bone.

  “I don’t approve of your tone.” He stood. “You need to stop this disrespect now.”

  “No.” She pointed to the floor. “It’s time for you to listen to me and respect what I have to say. You’ve never treated me like a dochder. You’ve only ever treated me like an annoyance.”

  He ran his hand down his face. “If you don’t stop talking to me this way, you’re going to have to leave. This is mei haus, and I won’t stand for you to speak to me so disrespectfully.”

  “Really, Dat?” Her voice squeaked. “You’d throw out mei sohn and me?”

  He hesitated, and then he scrubbed both his hands down his face. Was he restraining himself? Or did he feel guilty for considering putting her and her son out on the street?

  When he didn’t speak, she shook her head and started for the stairs.

  “I give up,” she muttered as she headed up to her room. When she reached the top step, she stopped and pulled in a quaking breath. She had to somehow let go of her resentment of her father and push past the pain and anguish his coldness and criticism caused. She had to be strong—not only for herself but for her precious Ethan.

  “Priscilla?” Ethan’s door opened and Mamm stepped out into the hallway. “How did it go?”

  The hope in her mother’s expression sent guilt spiraling through her. How could she tell her mother that she’d yelled at her father? Mamm would never approve of what she’d said. And her father was right—she had been disrespectful to him. But enduring years of his criticism had taken a toll.

  “Not well.” Priscilla moved past her mother and walked into her bedroom.

  “Did you try to talk to him?”

  “I did, but it was a disaster.” She sank onto the corner of her bed. “He still acts like I’m the biggest disappointment in his life.”

  “You’re not a disappointment.” Mamm touched her shoulder. “I’ve been praying for your dat to realize he’s always been too hard on you. I know God will work on him so he’ll realize what a blessing it is that God brought you home. What matters now is that our family is back together.”

  “Right.” Priscilla stiffened, hoping to keep her tears at bay.

  Mamm stepped over to the door. “Are you going to come downstairs?”

  “No, danki.” Priscilla forced a yawn. “I think I might take a nap.”

  “Okay.” Mamm lingered in the doorway but then disappeared into the hallway.

  Priscilla’s shoulders hunched as dread threatened to drown her. She wanted so badly to be strong. She had survived Trent’s abuse, and she needed to stand firm in this house for her son’s sake. She had to tolerate her father until she could save some money and find an affordable place for her and Ethan to live.

  SEVEN

  PRISCILLA SKIDDED TO A HALT WHEN SHE FOUND Mark standing at the kitchen counter Tuesday afternoon. He was drinking a glass of water.

  “Hi.” He grinned at her as he placed the glass on the counter.

  “Hi.” She looked down toward the floor and cleared her throat. She’d done her best to avoid him all day yesterday, seeing him only in passing when he came into the house. She’d hoped to avoid him again today so she wouldn’t have to discuss her meeting with the bishop and ministers or how humiliating it had felt to sit in front of the entire congregation with her head bent and face covered. But now she was face-to-face with him, and he had turned that electric smile on her.

  “Wie geht’s?” He swiveled toward her and leaned his elbow on the counter.

  “I need to call a driver.” She jammed her thumb toward the door to the family room. “I’m out of material, and I’m making a couple of pairs of work trousers for Ethan.”

  Footsteps sounded in the family room.

  “I can take you.” Mark stood up straight. “I need to go to the hardware store for supplies.”

  “Oh no. That’s okay. I’ll just call a driver.” The thought of being stuck in a buggy alone with Mark made her nervously shift her weight on her feet. What would she find to discuss with him during the ride to town and then back home to avoid his delving into her personal life?

  “Save me some money and go with Mark,” Dat chimed in from the doorway.

  Priscilla gritted her teeth. Leave it to him to overhear her conversation.

  “Let it go,” Mark muttered under his breath. “Don’t say anything.”

  Priscilla hesitated, surprised by Mark’s interference. Then she nodded. “I’ll get my purse,” she said before hurrying out of the kitchen.

  Mark gave Priscilla a sideways glance as he guided his horse toward the road. She stared out the window with her purse on her lap as if the passing traffic held all the secrets to the perfect life. The only sound was the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves, the whirr of the buggy wheels, and the roar of passing cars. He was accustomed to his women friends talking his ear off when they spent time together, so the silence between them was unnerving, making his skin itch.

  He racked his brain for something to say.

  “How was your Sunday afternoon?” he asked.

  Priscilla was silent for a moment, but then she turned toward him, her brow pinched. “What?”

  “I asked how your Sunday afternoon was.”

  “Oh.” She continued to look surprised. “It was quiet. I took a nap.”

  He nodded as he turned his attention back to the road.

  “How was yours?” she asked.

  Aha! He’d managed to start a conversation with her.

  “It was gut. I just rested and spent time with my family.” His glance missed hers as she turned back to the window.

  Mark halted the horse at a red light, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Priscilla scratching her arm. Today she wore a purple dress that complemented her dark hair and chestnut eyes. Like her other dresses, this one had three-quarter sleeves.

  “Why are you wearing longer sleeves when it’s close to ninety-five degrees outside?”

  An indecipherable expression flashed across her face, and then she shrugged.

  “It’s just comfortable.” She quickly looked toward the passing traffic as if avoiding his eyes.

  A horn tooted behind them, and Mark guided the horse through the intersection. A few awkward moments of silence stretched like a great chasm. Mark found himself wishing for a radio to at least fill the dead air with music.

  “What do you need from the hardware store?”

  Her question stunned him for a moment. “I have a list in my pocket. I need chicken feed and a new hammer since I managed to break one. Let’s see. What else? A chisel, some batteries, and a box of nails.”

  “Oh.” She folded her hands in her lap and stared out
the windshield.

  He tried to think of something else to say, but nothing came to him. Being with her felt awkward, and he’d never felt awkward around a woman before. Why was she different? None of the other young women in their community found him this dull. Was something wrong with him today?

  When they reached the parking lot at the hardware store, Mark guided the horse to a hitching post. He tied it up and then turned, surprised to see Priscilla still sitting in the buggy.

  He skirted around the buggy and leaned into the passenger window. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to sit here and wait for you.”

  “But it’s hot out here.” He gestured toward the store. “Walk inside with me. I’ll buy you a bottle of water.”

  “Okay,” she said, climbing out of the buggy.

  They walked side by side toward the store. When they reached the front door, he held it open for her, and she muttered a thank-you as she passed through.

  Priscilla walked with him through the aisles as he gathered the items on his list. She lingered a step or two behind him, her arms folded over her waist as he shopped.

  “You know, you’re giving me a headache,” he quipped with a smile.

  “What?” Her dark eyebrows pinched together.

  “Because you talk so much,” he explained, grinning. “You’re giving me a horrendous headache.”

  Her expression relaxed, and then she sighed.

  “I’m just kidding.” He hesitated, waiting for her smile to light up her face. But it didn’t. Instead, she looked away. None of his methods were working on her. Did she truly find him uninteresting? The notion gnawed at his gut.

  He made his way down the last aisle and added chicken feed to his cart. As he stepped into the main aisle, he heard someone call his name. Turning, he spotted Rudy Swarey walking toward him. Rudy was Laura’s ex-boyfriend.

  “Hi, Rudy!” Mark waved to him. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.” Rudy shook his hand and then turned to Priscilla. “Hi, Priscilla. It’s been a long time.”

  “It’s nice to see you.” She shook his hand, but her shoulders hunched and her lips flattened. She suddenly seemed skittish and unsure of herself. Was she uncomfortable seeing other members of the community?