Holly opened the gate that separated the prescription-filling area from the over-the-counter store. She went through the gate and walked across the shop to the front door.
“Hi. So someone came by today…”
“Ya, Bishop Stephan. I saw him as he was walking down the sidewalk, and he stopped to talk to me.”
Holly stepped between Josh and Julie and then locked Greene’s front door. The only silver lining to the car accident was that the antique lock had been replaced with one that was easy to bolt.
“Bishop problems?” Julie gave Holly a side hug.
“Probably nothing unexpected, right?” Josh hugged Holly’s other side.
Holly took a centering breath. They could get through this. She had Josh, good friends like Jules, Brandon, and Lyle, and a supportive family and bishop. She squeezed both of their shoulders, and then they released the hugs.
Holly noticed a few over-the-counter medicines that were askew and bent down to fix them. “We’re having some issues with the Amish rules regarding me continuing to work after marriage, but that’s how family works. We have to balance expectations from our order with our own dreams. These things often have to be navigated and negotiated.” Well, they were navigated and negotiated for men. She knew of no married women who’d been allowed to bend the rules when it came to work.
She stood and saw Brandon locking the gate to the prescription filling area and arming the alarm. He crossed the store and gave Julie a kiss on the forehead. Holly smiled. Brandon and Julie were taking things slowly, but the two of them made a cute couple and were great partners in health care.
“We good to go on closing?”
“Yep, all set. Jules and I are going to the diner. You and Josh want to come along?”
Holly met Josh’s eyes, and he gave a little nod. “Ya, we can start with that. Josh and I were going to get some food and take a walk.”
They all stepped outside, and Holly relocked the door. The sun was low enough that the worst of the heat had broken for the day. A lovely evening for a walk. “I guess I haven’t shared a lot of the issues we’re dealing with regarding my working after marriage, not even with Mamm and Ivy.”
Julie adjusted the strap on her bag as they started walking toward the diner. “If it would help, Holly, once you’re living on the farm with Josh, I can pick you up on my way to the clinic and take you home. Then you won’t have to hire a driver after you move. It’s less than ten minutes from my house, and my little car gets excellent gas mileage.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind. It’d certainly save us a lot of money and hassle. But the real issue is our order typically doesn’t approve of a married woman having a career outside the home. My bishop has been unusually understanding.”
Josh took her hand and squeezed it. “And mine holds firm to the traditional values.”
Brandon scratched his head. “Holly’s family has a farm with plenty of room. Couldn’t you move in with her once married?”
“Josh can’t leave his farm or parents. His Mamm has diabetes, which she’s still adjusting to, and he and his Daed run their free-range egg business. There’s a reason you’ve never heard of a farmer living twenty miles away from his farm. He has to be there, just like you can’t go to the hardware store down the street and fill prescriptions for people. He has to keep the flock safe from predators like foxes and safe from sudden storms rolling in, and—”
“Got it. But couldn’t you”—Brandon looked upward as he paused—“rent a house just over the district line from where his farm is and move the chickens?”
Holly shook her head. Maybe working as a pharmacist all day, solving medication and insurance issues, had put Brandon in a fixing mood, but there wasn’t an obvious solution to this problem. “Josh’s family has had a chicken farm on that land for generations. Egg-laying houses are expensive to build, and should his family leave everything they’ve already built to start fresh because one bishop disagrees with me working? No.”
They arrived at the door to the diner, and Brandon held it open. “That one bishop is sure being a thorn in your side.”
It was a seat-yourself place that they’d been to multiple times over the past few months. The familiar aromas of toasted bread, bacon, and coffee hit her nose as she entered the restaurant. Still holding Josh’s hand, Holly crossed the black-and-white-checkered tile floor. She released his hand as she and Josh slid onto the bench of their usual booth.
Holly adjusted her apron. “Josh’s bishop isn’t being a pain on purpose. He was polite and pleasant. It’s his job as bishop to make sure everyone holds on to the Old Ways. If they don’t, in a generation those ways will be gone, and we’ll fade into the rest of society.”
Julie and Brandon sat down on the bench across the table.
“Makes sense.” Julie tapped her fingertips on the table. “From what I’ve seen, the Amish believe that family and community should reflect God’s ways, and a wife taking care of just the children and the home is the easiest way to make that work.”
Josh folded his hands on the table. “Women are the backbone of our society in many ways. They sacrifice a lot of themselves, especially after marriage.”
Holly smiled at him. He was such a good man. She loved him more than she could say. “There’s no easy solution to this, but I’d like to pray about it. Would you two mind joining us?”
Brandon and Julie clasped their hands together on the table. “We’d be honored.”
Everyone bowed heads.
Holly closed her eyes. Would the bishop’s heart soften concerning a woman working outside the home?
If Josh’s bishop didn’t change his opinion, how would she possibly choose between giving up her dream of bringing health care to her Old Order community, after all she’d gone through to get to this point, and marrying the perfect man for her, the one she longed to spend her life with and build a family with?
God, I can’t see the right path to take, but I know You can.
Eleven
The July night air was thick with humidity as Arlan descended the carriage house steps. The sounds of summertime filled the air: cicadas, tree frogs, crickets, and an incessant mockingbird. But Arlan was used to the season’s hot weather and the critters’ chorus drifting through the open windows. No, the bugs, birds, and frogs weren’t what had kept him awake in the middle of the night.
He walked to the closest barbed-wire fence and peered into the pasture. All the clutter in his mind moved to a single conversation he’d had with Betty eighteen hours ago. She’d asked him to stay on until mid-December, saying she needed his help for two reasons: to free up her time so she could focus on preparing for Holly’s wedding and to get the homestead ready to host hundreds of guests for the daylong event in December.
He’d taken that opportunity to do as Ivy had asked and talk to Betty about the workload of increasing the herd. She’d nodded and thanked him, but he wasn’t at all sure she took any of it to heart. She’d offered him thirty percent of the milking profits if he continued doing repairs and other chores throughout each day as he’d been doing.
And he’d accepted. Why? Why was he still here? It’d been almost four weeks since the wreck, and he didn’t know if Magda would be ready to go home even by mid-December, but leaving by then was his goal because now he’d given his word he’d stay. Had the money lured him? Or the freedom this place afforded Magda and him? Or the fact that a widow’s firstborn was marrying and she needed his help?
How would he explain to his parents that he’d stayed here until mid-December? The Old Order had a lot going for them, which totally messed with his mind. They weren’t as skilled at obeying God as the Swartzentrubers, but they worked hard, dressed modestly, and, despite all he’d been taught, he’d seen no sign of them drinking or partying.
Thoughts of his parents were like heavy weights inside his head. It seem
ed they weren’t as godly as he’d believed all these years. Even so, he still wanted to return home with Magda as soon as possible, repent before the church, and move to New York.
His stomach rumbled. Confusion must stir the appetite the same as working hard. Betty had made a cake, and he’d had a small slice after dinner. He’d wanted a second piece, but Ivy had been there, so he’d left as quickly as he could. She was opinionated, and since his goal was to be a good guest and keep his thoughts to himself, it seemed wise to avoid her. He walked toward the house. It was pitch black, and she had to be asleep by now.
Betty never locked the doors, so he eased into the kitchen and with the moonlight could see well enough to cut a piece of cake and put it on a plate. He got a fork and dug into the sugary delight. Betty was quite the cook.
Just then a piercing scream came from upstairs. Was that Magda? Arlan bounded up the steps. Another yell filled the air, longer and louder, and then glass broke.
Ivy was hurrying down the hallway with a lantern. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t you move!” Magda yelled.
Arlan rushed into her room, followed closely by Ivy. The light from Ivy’s lantern cast odd shadows, but he saw Magda standing on the bed, clutching a baseball bat. A wide-eyed man was standing beside the bed with his hands up. A shattered drinking glass was on the floor behind him. Had his sister thrown it at the man and hit the wall instead?
“Red?” Ivy moved in closer.
“Ya,” the man murmured. “I was planning to surprise everyone.” He shook his raised hands. “Surprise,” he said softly. He was wise not to do anything that would upset Magda any further.
“Magda,” Arlan chided, “what are you doing wielding a bat?”
“Ya,” Ivy said. “You should be more like your brother.” She moved in closer. “He brought cake.”
Arlan looked down. Sure enough, he was still carrying the plate with cake on it. How had it not fallen off?
Still clenching the bat, Magda moved closer to Red. “I woke to find him trying to get in my bed!”
Red kept his hands in the air. “My bed actually.”
Magda lunged toward him a bit. Was she in shock or something?
Red raised his hands higher. “Fine. It’s yours.” He shrugged. “But can I just mention that for more than a month I’ve been looking forward to and dreaming about sleeping in my—your—lumpy old bed?”
Ivy moved between Magda and Red, and she hugged her brother. “Welcome home.”
“Ya. I feel welcomed too.”
“And you should.” Ivy gestured toward the plate in Arlan’s hand. “We have cake.” Ivy then climbed on the bed with Magda. Ivy also stood on the mattress, and she looked her in the eyes, and whispered to her while stroking her hair.
Ten or fifteen seconds passed before Magda broke eye contact with Ivy, looked at Red, and visibly relaxed. Maybe Magda was on high alert because she feared that her parents or other Swartzentrubers might show up to drag her back home.
Ivy eased the bat from her. “Magda, this is my brother, Ezra. He’s named after our Daed, but we call him Red because of his ginger hair and also because he was born around Christmas, like Holly and me. He’s been living in Rocks Mill, which is a few hours from here, for the past year. He’s hardly had time to visit due to work.”
Magda drew a breath. “He’s your brother?”
“Ya. And this is his bed.” Ivy grinned. “It’s fine. You’re fine.” Ivy waved the bat toward Red. “If you’d told someone you were coming, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Red peered behind Arlan, and when Arlan glanced in that same direction, he saw Betty and Holly in the doorway.
Red lowered his hands slowly. “It never dawned on me that it was better not to surprise my family. That they could’ve given my room to a complete stranger.”
Ivy got off the bed and helped Magda get down. “Magda isn’t a stranger. I’ve introduced the two of you, and her brother, Arlan, brought you cake.”
Arlan looked down at the cake. This was embarrassing. But where was Red’s indignation for being greeted with madness in his own home? And his Mamm’s and sisters’ anger, for that matter. It was the middle of the night. Chaos was happening. Shards of glass were in the far corner, and they were making wisecracks. Not one person had been scolded for the incident, and no one had quoted a scripture. Arlan couldn’t think of a thou-shalt-not Bible verse that was pertinent, but he bet his Daed could’ve rattled off three or four.
“Red.” Mamm elongated his name. “Hi, sweetie.” She came into the room and gave him a big hug before releasing him. “Just so you know”—she patted his chest—“this is Magda’s room now. So get out.”
Red laughed. “Denki, Mamm. Good to see you too.”
Betty chuckled. “I’ll get you a blanket and pillow for the couch.”
“Hey.” Holly embraced him. “I’m so glad to see you.” She backed up. “But why are you here?”
Red made a face. “Things didn’t go as I’d planned.”
“You and Emily?” Holly asked.
Red sighed. “Ya. Can I have cake now?”
Betty cinched the belt on her housecoat. “If you’ve been dreaming of being in your own bed, it sounds like you’ve known for a while you needed to come home.”
He nodded.
“Are you home for good?” Ivy set the baseball bat on the bed.
“I don’t intend to live with my mother indefinitely, but, ya, I’m here for a while. Is that a problem?”
“Not for me.” Ivy didn’t smile, but she looked very pleased, probably because this meant that even after Arlan left, she wouldn’t have to start milking cows again.
Mamm tugged on Red’s collar. “With Holly’s wedding taking place here in December, I’ve asked Arlan to help get the farm ready.”
“We’re expecting nearly three hundred guests to feed, all of Josh’s big family,” Holly said. “So it’d give us more wedding money to work with if you two mowed the hayfields and stored the hay yourselves. Then there would be no need to hire outside help.”
“Ya.” Red looked at Arlan. “We can do that, right?”
Arlan nodded. “With the two of us, we could take off ten years of aging on this farm pretty quickly.”
“Deal.” Red held out his hand, and Arlan shook it. “Besides,” Red said, “I need the distraction of hard work.” He put an arm around his Mamm’s shoulders. “Looking back—and I’ve done a lot of that the last several weeks—I realized I shouldn’t have left you and the girls so quickly or stayed gone so long. I’m sorry.”
Betty put her arm around his waist. “You believed Emily was the one. You have nothing to apologize for. Kumm.” Betty motioned. “Let’s not stand in Magda’s room and talk. Let’s go to the kitchen.”
“Sounds good.” Red pointed at Arlan’s plate with its slice of cake. “We’ve got milk to go with that. You and your sister are welcome to join us in continuing this family nonsense downstairs. Guaranteed to be a mixture of fish tales, overt honesty, and a good helping of idle chitchat.”
“Denki.” Arlan had never seen a man stay so calm and be so upfront about what was going on in his life and do all of it with a bit of humor. Who was this guy?
Holly put a housecoat around Magda’s shoulders. “Kumm. Some milk and cake will do you good.”
Magda glanced at Arlan and left the room with Holly. Betty and Red filed out also.
Ivy stopped beside Arlan. “You dashed up the steps to save your sister with cake in hand. You think Mamm’s cake could be used as a weapon if it came to it?”
“Nee. I’m a pacifist.” His face felt hot with embarrassment. “My plan was to coax the intruder into eating cake and then hope he choked on it.”
Her grin was his reward for coming up with something to add to the silliness of the last few minutes.
“I have to say, your plan sounds more passive-aggressive than pacifist-like—here’s a delicious piece of cake. I hope you choke on it.” She laughed. “That aside, I’m going to do you a favor and not tell Mamm you think her cake could choke someone.”
She took the plate from him and looked longingly at the cake, apparently still being lighthearted.
“Next time there’s a skirmish in the house, bring cake and milk. What were you thinking?”
“Clearly I wasn’t. I apologize.”
Obviously Red’s family was thrilled he was home. When Arlan returned home, he would get the opposite response—for months, maybe a year.
“About time you apologized.” Ivy’s eyes met his, and she smiled. “Right?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged.
She left the room with his cake. “You coming?”
He lagged behind. When Ivy got to the bottom of the steps, she hurried into the kitchen, and the volume in the house rose. He sat on the steps, watching and listening to the oddity of this family. They talked openly about personal things. In his few minutes of sitting on the steps, he learned more about the thoughts and feelings of this small family than he’d learned in a year of sharing meals with his own family. It dawned on him why he enjoyed writing letters even when he didn’t send them. It was his way of airing all he felt, of sharing all that was never shared at any other time.
Red spoke softly for a moment, and Ivy grabbed his hand, lowered her head, and prayed aloud.
Was he still in a Plain home? Or even on planet Earth, for that matter?
He had no doubt that the Zooks had to face sharp differences of opinion and weather hard times too, but he couldn’t see them hiding in corners, plotting hypocrisies beyond everyone’s back.
He’d never seen anything like this, and his sister seemed mesmerized too. Despite how interesting the interactions were, they also flew in the face of all he’d been taught.
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