A Mother's Love

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Anne went to the bin for a few more potatoes, seeing Rose’s face in her mind again, wondering if God could possibly have brought the two of them together. But why would He do that?

  “Well, now,” her mother-in-law said as she peered into Anne’s big pan of potatoes. “I’ve heard that some folks mash the skins right along with the potatoes, but I don’t know that we like them that way.”

  Anne blinked. When she saw that several of the potato quarters in the water still had skins on them, her cheeks turned hot. She’d been peeling mindlessly, thinking of a more interesting topic than potatoes. Anne thought about pointing out that the skins were the most nutritious part—and she wanted to tell Martha Maude to peel the potatoes herself if she didn’t like the way Anne had done it. But years of living in the Hartzler household had taught her to keep her mouth shut. She certainly couldn’t tell Martha Maude that she might be very closely related to the Rose they’d met today.

  “What was I thinking?” Anne murmured as she began plucking the unpeeled potato chunks out of the water.

  Martha Maude raised one eyebrow. “I sometimes wonder.”

  Chapter 19

  As Rose hung their dresses on the clothesline early Saturday morning, she thought back to her meeting with Anne Hartzler. In the stillness of the dawn, while Gracie was still asleep, Rose tried to decide how best to deal with the birth mother who’d shown up so unexpectedly in her life.

  Was it really so unexpected? What if God had a hand in this?

  Rose shook a little blue jumper until it snapped, then pinned it to the line. How could she act as though Anne was just a local Plain woman who donated handmade items to the senior center? How could she not reveal her identity to Anne and fulfill her longing to reconnect with her mother?

  When she’d hung her last two black dresses, Rose carried her laundry basket into the kitchen to think about breakfast—and to decide what food to freeze so it wouldn’t spoil while she and Gracie stayed in town. Meanwhile, she realized—as Bishop Vernon had warned her—that engaging Anne Hartzler in a relationship might have consequences she couldn’t control.

  There was Martha Maude to consider, first of all. Rose suspected Saul’s mother, so tall and stalwart but without an ounce of fat on her, was a woman to be reckoned with. What if Martha Maude chastised Anne for bearing a baby out of wedlock? It might tarnish their relationship—and she would surely tell her son about Anne’s secret. Rose had wondered what sort of mother would name her son Saul, reminiscent of the biblical man who’d persecuted Christians, rather than Paul or Sol—after King Solomon. Again she had the feeling Martha Maude was a woman of strong will and purpose.

  What if Anne becomes so upset, she wants nothing more to do with me? What if she stops bringing her crocheted and quilted items to the senior center to avoid me? If Sherrie finds out Anne has stopped coming because I revealed my identity to her, Sherrie might not want me to work there anymore—

  “Mamma, let’s have French toast! I’m starvin’!”

  Gracie’s exuberant request brought Rose out of her troublesome thoughts, and for that, she was grateful. Gracie had put on a green dress, and her kapp strings mingled with the strawberry-blond hair that hung loosely over her shoulders.

  “We can do that,” Rose replied as she took eggs and milk from the refrigerator. “We have to plan ahead today, thinking about what clothes we’ll take for next week,” she told her daughter. “But first we’ll wind your hair into a bun, in case the bishop or other folks stop by.”

  “Or ’Rusalem,” Gracie said in a hopeful voice. She climbed into her chair and removed her kapp. “I gotta tell her ’bout movin’ to Morning Star! She’ll be really surprised.”

  She’s not the only one, Rose thought as she smoothed her daughter’s silky hair and began braiding it. Should she insist that Gracie not tell anybody about her job and their new arrangement to live at the senior center?

  That would be like telling a robin not to sing.

  Rose deftly wound Gracie’s braid into a bun at the nape of her neck, deciding to see how the day went. If she insisted that Gracie keep quiet, her daughter would demand to know why Rose’s new job was such a secret—and maybe nobody would stop by the house, anyway. If Bishop Vernon and Jerusalem did come, and Gracie blurted out their new living arrangements, the adults could have the discussion and be done with it.

  It wasn’t as though Vernon could make Rose quit her job. She was working of her own free will—that two-sided gift of God’s the bishop had reminded her about. On the one hand, Rose felt she’d found a perfect solution to her financial problems, even if the bishop believed she was putting Gracie’s welfare—and her own salvation—at risk by working.

  After they ate breakfast, the day went quickly because they had a lot to accomplish before Monday morning. In the garden, Rose snipped the lettuce that was of edible size, assuring Gracie that they would enjoy fresh peas in a couple of weekends, when they were home. As she checked the radishes, she also hoed weeds—realizing that her extended absences meant the garden would get even weedier.

  “If you like helping,” Rose said as Gracie pointed out weeds for her, “you can go out with Alison and pick the peas in the senior center garden. I bet we’ll be eating some of those this week, because they got their garden planted sooner than we did.”

  Gracie gazed at her with a serious expression. “Coz we was bein’ with Mammi, right?” she asked softly.

  Rose blinked back sudden tears. “Jah, we were, sweetie. It’s important to help folks who can’t do anything for themselves.”

  Gracie pointed to another dandelion, and Rose removed it with the pointed corner of her hoe. “And when we’re stayin’ at the center, we can be helpin’ all those people more, huh, Mamma? I like that.”

  “I like it, too, Gracie. And it’ll be easier for us because we don’t have to make that long drive every morning and afternoon,” Rose replied.

  “You better call Matthias, so’s he’ll keep Daisy for us.”

  Rose thought for a moment. She did want to talk to Matthias, but she was hoping for a conversation without Gracie’s excited interruptions—and her keen ears. “Let’s take those clothes off the line,” she said as they headed toward the house. “While I’m ironing a few things, I want you to pick out the toys and books and clothes you’ll want this week. Put them on your bed, nice and neat, so we can pack them and put them into the buggy before Monday morning.”

  “Do we getta use suitcases? Like for a big trip?” Gracie’s eyes lit up with the idea, for she’d seldom been anywhere that required luggage.

  Rose chuckled as she gathered the sun-dried clothing. “Jah, it’ll be a big adventure,” she said. “You don’t have to take all of your toys and dolls, you know. That way you can play with some things this week, and take different toys for the next week.”

  Gracie’s face lit up. “I’m packin’ right now, Mamma! See ya later!”

  As Rose stood in the kitchen, pressing Gracie’s little dresses, she decided to place her own aprons, capes, and dresses on hangers—an entire outfit together—and take them in the garment bag. If she put her underthings on the bottom of their largest suitcase, she’d have enough room for Gracie’s clothing and their toiletries in that bag.

  On impulse, Rose decided to tuck the letters from her birth mother into the suitcase, as well. She’d been weighing the consequences of talking with Anne Hartzler, and maybe if Anne had doubts, she would surely remember the letters she’d written when Rose was a tiny baby. Trying to envision how this reunion would come about was beyond her, however. Rose yearned to reveal her identity, even as she suspected the Hartzler household would never be the same after she did. Would Anne be willing to risk a relationship with her long-lost daughter?

  Rose turned off the burners where she’d been heating her two irons. She was folding the old ironing board, wondering what to have for supper, when she heard the rapid patter of feet in the hallway above her head.

  “Mamma! Mamma, it’s Matt
hias!” her little girl shouted ecstatically. “He’s comin’ up the lane in his rig!”

  Rose looked quickly out the window as Gracie raced through the front room and out the screen door, letting it bang shut behind her. When Rose recognized the fellow in the buggy, her heart stood still. She was eager to see Matthias, to discuss the events of the past few days with him. However, she also recalled the way she’d stalked off when he’d told her to leave well enough alone—not to meddle with the Hartzlers’ marriage by seeking out her mother.

  But it’s different now. My mother showed up without my having any say about it. And if Matthias is here, he must’ve gotten over our disagreement.

  When Rose stepped out onto the porch, her heart flip-flopped. Gracie was clutching Matthias around the legs, chattering as though she hadn’t seen him for months—and then Matthias swung Gracie up in the air, making her giggle in sheer delight. What a sight it was, the two of them so wrapped up in one another.

  And there would be no dealing with Gracie’s disappointment if Rose didn’t invite Matthias to stay and eat with them. As Matthias strode toward the house with Gracie riding on his shoulders, Rose realized that he might be just as brokenhearted if she didn’t ask him to stick around for a while.

  “You’ve arrived just in time to choose what we’ll have for supper, Matthias,” Rose teased as he stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, in front of her. “The choices aren’t fabulous, but we could have grilled cheese sandwiches, or peanut butter and jelly, or—”

  “Fried eggs with bacon, Mamma! You said we gotta use that up before—”

  “Fried eggs with bacon sounds wonderful,” Matthias agreed as he gently put Gracie on the ground. “I really didn’t come for a free meal—and I brought some fresh peas for Gracie—”

  “Yay! I love peas, Matthias!”

  “So you’ve told me, peanut,” he said, tweaking her nose. “How about washing your hands and we’ll shell them for your mamma?”

  When Gracie shot into the house, again letting the door bang, Matthias climbed the stairs to the porch. He searched Rose’s eyes for a moment. “I’ve got something to tell you when a little somebody with big ears isn’t listening,” he said softly.

  Rose’s eyes widened. What could this man she hardly knew have to share with her that was so important? “Matter of fact, I’ve got a few things to discuss with you when Gracie’s asleep, too,” she said softly. “It’s been a big, busy week. I’ll go get a couple bowls—and denki so much for bringing peas,” she added with a smile.

  Matthias kept gazing at her as though they were going to share some important secrets later—and he appeared eager to spend time with her as much as with Gracie. He jogged to his rig and drove it to the stable, where he unhitched his horse and led it inside. He returned with a plastic sack of fresh peas, and soon he and Rose were settled on the porch swing with Gracie and two bowls between them. Gracie watched attentively as Rose showed her how to hold the fat green pod, tug on the end to pull the string, and then squeeze the peas into the bowl. She dropped the empty pod onto a towel she’d spread on the porch floor in front of the swing.

  “This is fun!” Gracie said when her first podful of peas bounced into the bowl. “Can we have creamed peas and taters with our bacon and eggs, Mamma? It’ll be a feast!”

  Rose laughed, catching Matthias’s eyes above her daughter’s head. “This supper’s sounding a lot better than PB and J sandwiches,” she said. “We’re glad you’ve come to see us, Matthias.”

  “Me too,” he mouthed as he held her gaze. Then he glanced down at Gracie. “So what have you girls been doing this week? I stopped by on Thursday, but nobody was home.”

  “We was in Morning Star!” Gracie crowed. “Mamma’s cookin’ and I’m a ray of sunshine.”

  Matthias’s laughter echoed in the porch ceiling as he squeezed peas into the bowl wedged between his thigh and Gracie’s. “I have no doubt you’re spreading gut cheer, little girl,” he said as he shot Rose a questioning glance.

  “I’m cooking at the senior center,” Rose began. “I started last Monday, and after we got caught in that rainstorm yesterday, my boss offered us an apartment. We’ll be driving in on Monday mornings and coming home Friday afternoons now—and if there’s a way you could stable Daisy for us—”

  “Of course I will, Rose.”

  “—I think we’ve got all our bases covered,” Rose continued in a rush. “So you can see how it’s been quite a week for Gracie and me. The folks at the senior center adore her.”

  “I bet they’re glad to have you cooking for them, too,” Matthias remarked. “Gut for you, Rose. I know the bishop’s not keen on your working, but because Gracie can be with you all the time, well—I’m not a bit surprised,” he added with a smile. “I didn’t figure you for a gal who’d sit around moping, depending on other folks for every little thing.”

  Rose’s cheeks tingled. Matthias was taking her side, complimenting her for the action she’d taken.

  “Ooh, look at this fat pea pod!” Gracie said happily. “Did you grow these peas in your garden, Matthias?”

  Was she imagining it, or did Rose detect a secret as Matthias considered his reply?

  “I’ve made some new friends in Morning Star,” he replied. “When they heard I wouldn’t have time to plant a garden, they felt sorry for me and gave me a bunch of fresh stuff from their garden—last week and again yesterday.”

  “Eat your veggies!” Gracie teased.

  Matthias chuckled. “Jah, I am—and, by golly, we’ve shelled every one of our peas now,” he said lightly. “I’m sure glad you asked for creamed potatoes and peas, Gracie, because I just love those two together.”

  Rose started into the house with the bowls of peas. “You can feed those empty shells to Daisy and Matthias’s horse,” she suggested to her daughter.

  “Jah! Let’s go, Matthias,” Gracie said, hopping out of the swing. “You and Daisy can get to be friends, before she stays at your house next week.”

  In the kitchen, Rose rinsed the peas and put them on to boil. As she was peeling potatoes and cutting them into chunks, she watched her daughter showing Matthias the garden and the flowers around the yard. What a pair they were—and what a patient man Matthias was, allowing a five-year-old chatterbox to lead him around. By the time they returned to the house, Rose had bacon frying in the skillet and was making white sauce for the peas and potatoes. She’d taken a cake from the freezer, too—a neighbor’s gift after Mamma had passed.

  As the three of them ate their simple supper, Rose couldn’t remember when bacon, eggs, and creamed potatoes and peas had ever tasted so good. Matthias was telling them about all the places he’d visited in Morning Star, and about a fancy saddle he’d been making for a rodeo cowboy. When they’d eaten their cake, he offered to help with the dishes and Rose didn’t turn him down.

  It was nice to have a man helping in the kitchen, and Rose was feeling more comfortable with Matthias as she and Gracie chatted with him. As the sun sank behind the barn, Rose was thinking about the best way to get her daughter tucked into bed so she and Matthias could talk. “It’s Saturday night, Gracie,” she said. “We should get you into the bathtub—”

  “But I don’t want Matthias to go! We’re havin’ fun,” her daughter insisted. Her lower lip began to quiver.

  Matthias smiled. “Tell you what, young lady,” he said as he tweaked her nose. “If you’ll take your bath like your mamma says, and get into bed, I’ll read you a story before you go to sleep.”

  Rose bit back a laugh. Gracie’s eyes widened and she grabbed Rose’s hand. “I’m likin’ this, Mamma,” she said excitedly. “Let’s go upstairs now!”

  In short order, without any further fuss, Gracie finished her bath, hurried into her nightie, and hollered down the stairs, “I’m ready, Matthias! I’m gonna pick out a book now!”

  For Rose, the next half hour was nothing short of amazing. Matthias seemed totally comfortable stretched along the edge of Gracie’s bed, re
ading the book of Bible stories by the light of the nightstand lamp. Gracie listened intently, as though Rose hadn’t read these stories to her dozens of times. She was leaning against Matthias and his arm was around her; and when he closed the book, he kissed the top of her head.

  “Time for prayers,” he said. When he knelt at the side of the bed with his hands folded, Gracie slipped down to the floor beside him, bowing her head.

  Rose’s mouth dropped open. It was the sweetest sight . . . Nathan had always left the bedtime routine to Rose, so watching a man perform this ritual so smoothly and comfortably was a new experience. And when Matthias gazed at Rose over his shoulder, his smile inviting her to join them, Rose was in awe. She knelt on the other side of Gracie, bowing her head.

  “Whom shall we pray for, Gracie?” he asked quietly. “Let’s say a prayer in our heads, and then I’ll pray for someone out loud, and you can pray for someone, and then your mamma can, too.”

  Keeping her eyes closed tight and her head bowed, Gracie nodded.

  After a few moments of silence, while Rose wondered if her daughter and their guest could hear the hammering of her heart, Matthias spoke quietly, reverently. “Dear God, please bless Rose and Gracie and the time they spend at the senior center. Amen.”

  Rose peeked between her eyelids, to see Gracie’s face glowing with angelic purpose and deep thought. “Dear God,” she whispered, “please bless Gladys and Zelma and Flo—and Sherrie,” she added, “and the two ladies who brought the pretty stuff they made. And bless Mamma and Matthias, too. Amen.”

  Rose licked her lips, hoping her prayer sounded half as devout as the two she’d already heard. “Dear Lord, I thank You for this quiet time with Gracie and Matthias, and I thank You for the opportunities You’ve brought us this week. Bless us all as we try to do Your will. Amen.”

  Rose waited for Gracie to get into bed and arrange the sheet and the quilt the way she liked them. “Gut night, angel,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss Gracie’s cheek. “Sleep tight while God watches over you.”