“My wife will be wonderin’ why you aren’t with me when I return,” the bishop said.
“I’m so grateful to you. To both of you. But I really think I need to stay here in case Mamm comes back.”
He opened the door of his cart and looked about to step down. “I can stay with you.”
“If you like. But it really isn’t necessary.” Marian gazed at Izzie. “I think I’ve worn the baby out, so I’ll put her down for a nap. I may go to Aenti Barb’s later.”
He clicked his tongue. “Jah. I didn’t think about your kin down the way. I’d feel easier if you’d go to them after the babe wakes up.”
Marian agreed. “If you like, Bishop. That’s what I’ll do.”
He pulled on his long gray beard and shut the buggy door. “Tell Zeb I stopped by, would you?”
“I will. And thank you, Bishop.”
He bobbed his head at her and left.
Marian thought her arms would break with the weight of Izzie. The baby had fallen asleep and was hanging halfway out of her grip. She got the front door open and climbed upstairs to snuggle her into the crib. Her worry had lessened until it was now only a dull throb in her heart. She tucked the quilt about the baby and stood for a minute, watching her.
“Your mamm is coming home,” she whispered. “Don’t fret. All is going to work out. You’ll see.”
Marian knew full well she was really talking to herself, reassuring herself not the baby, but no matter. After seeing Thomas, she believed it now. She closed her eyes and said a heartfelt prayer, thanking God and asking Him to watch over Mamm wherever she was on her way back home.
Assured the baby was sleeping soundly, Marian returned downstairs to prepare the evening meal. It would just be herself and Izzie, but she would still fix the meal as she did every evening. Afterward, she would head over to her aenti’s, but this time she’d hitch up Frisky and take the pony cart. She’d packed Izzie around enough for one day.
The house was deadly quiet. It almost felt eerie, so Marian freely banged around in the kitchen. Hearing the pots and pans made the house sound full and alive, and she breathed easier. She mused over the future day when she could be cooking the evening meal for Thomas. And perhaps, she’d be balancing a boppli on her hip while she did so. Her boppli. Hers and Thomas’s. The thought filled her with deep satisfaction, and she smiled as she began peeling potatoes.
Glancing out the kitchen window, she could see the sun sinking in the sky, casting low rays of dappled light across the fields. It would be dark soon. She’d have to take the lantern with her in the cart.
Once the potatoes were set on the cook stove to boil, she got out the left-over meatloaf. There was much more than she needed. She and Izzie would eat some, and she’d save the rest to make a nice big sandwich for Dat when he returned the next day.
If he did return the next day. Which surely he would.
She set the table for herself and then stood observing the lonely place setting. On a whim, she hurried back into the kitchen and grabbed another plate and utensils and placed them on the table. There. Better.
When the potatoes were ready, she mashed them and put a big blob of fresh butter in the middle. She sat at the table with the meal in front of her.
Izzie hadn’t yet awakened. Marian glanced at the clock. Perhaps she should wake her. If she slept too long, she was in for a fitful night. The air was getting cool, and she wondered whether she should start a fire. No. They hadn’t yet starting building fires in the evenings that season, and she didn’t want to admit the cold was coming.
Again, the house was too quiet. The floor upstairs creaked, and she knew the well-worn boards were settling. The house was old, very old, and creaks and groans were common. She wished Thomas was there with her. It would be fun to see him sitting at the head of the table, presiding over the silent blessing and passing the dishes.
Wheels crunched on the gravel outside, and she jumped up, running to the door. Was Dat back already? Did he have Mamm with him? She tore out the front door and saw a small green car pulling close. That wouldn’t be Dat. He’d be in the van. She bent slightly to see inside the car, and her heart jolted with surprise.
Five
Mamm!
Marian nearly tripped down the stairs as she ran to open the car door.
“Mamm!” she cried.
Mamm unfolded herself from the car, blinking her eyes, tears on her cheeks. “I’m home now, daughter.”
The driver got out and looked at Marian over the top of the car.
“Is this her home?” he asked. He was middle-aged, with graying hair and the kindest brown eyes Marian had ever seen.
“Jah, that it is” Marian answered.
He came around the car. “I picked her up on the highway,” he said quietly, his eyes darting to Mamm. “I was worried, her being Amish and all. She looked a bit lost, and I thought it strange. She said she was just trying to get home, so I brought her the full way.”
His forehead creased, and Marian could see the worry on his face.
“Thank you,” she said. “What is the cost?” Her mind whirled, hoping that Dat had left spending money in the jar on the kitchen shelf. She couldn’t remember if there still was cash in there or not.
But the man was shaking his head. “No cost. I only hope she’s all right.”
Mamm stood on the porch. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you very much for bringing me home.”
And with that, she disappeared inside the house.
The man smiled. “I was glad to help.” He touched his forehead in farewell and circled back around his car.
“Thank you again,” Marian said.
She waved him off and then hurled up the steps and into the house. Mamm was nowhere to be seen. She took the stairs two at a time to the baby’s room and there Mamm was, standing over the crib.
“Mamm,” Marian whispered, “you gave us a scare!”
She walked to her and stood beside her.
Tears ran down Mamm’s cheeks. “I’m sorry for that. But I’m not sorry I’m home.”
Marian leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I’m glad, too,” she said softly.
Mamm bent forward and gently picked up Izzie. Izzie stirred, yawned, and blinked her wide eyes in the growing darkness.
“Izzie, Mama’s home now,” Mamm crooned, bringing the baby to her shoulder. “I’ve missed you so.”
Marian saw Izzie stiffen in Mamm’s arms and knew she was about to wail. She reached over quickly and took Izzie from her. “She’s hungry, Mamm. Let’s go down and eat.”
Izzie clung to Marian’s shoulder and stared at Mamm, a pucker on her face.
“I think she’s going to cry if we don’t go eat,” Marian said. “Come, Mamm. I’ve got it all ready for you.”
She headed out of the room before her mother could protest. The last thing Marian wanted was for Izzie to scream in Mamm’s arms. But the truth was, the baby was used to Marian now. Mamm had been out of the picture a long time for a little one.
Mamm followed her downstairs and sat at the table. “Where’s Zeb?” she asked.
Marian settled the baby in her high chair.
“He went looking for you.”
“What?”
“We found out you were gone, so he hired the van to take him to The Peaceful Haven. He’s searching for you.”
Mamm’s hand went to her mouth. “Ach. I didn’t think. I’m so sorry.”
Marian sat. “Don’t be. We wanted you home. It’s all right.”
“The doctors told me two weeks. I couldn’t wait that long. I’d been gone long enough.”
“Mamm, can you help yourself to supper? I want to run to the phone shanty and try to get word to Dat.”
Mamm nodded. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think.”
“It’s all right. Can you watch the baby?”
Mamm glared at Marian. “My own child? Of course.” Her voice was harsh.
Marian smiled. There was the mother she knew
. Harsh and curt. Marian went around the table and kissed her mother on the cheek, something she rarely if ever did. Mamm sucked in her breath at the gesture.
“Go on with you,” she ordered.
Marian’s smile widened. It was wonderful to have her mother back home bossing her around. She smiled all the way to the phone shanty where she made a quick call to the sanitarium. Her father wasn’t available. They said he was out combing the streets with the Mennonite driver, but they could call the driver’s cell.
Marian thanked the woman and hung up. Dat could be home before bedtime if he left right away.
She closed her eyes and breathed a prayer. Thomas was right. Mamm had come home, and she knew Dat wouldn’t force her to return. Together they would watch over her, monitor her, and see what good the sanitarium had done for her.
She straightened her shoulders. She could face whatever the future held. God was with her. And Thomas loved her.
Mamm was home.
Her fingers fairly itched to write out her thoughts and emotions. She knew she’d have time that evening. Mamm’s first night back. Marian could light her lantern and sit beneath her quilt and write to her heart’s content.
She could write another blog post if she wanted to. One about reuniting with loved ones. But it would be a poem this time. The phrases were already forming themselves in her mind as she padded quickly along the road back home.
As she neared the house, she spotted a pony cart sitting next to the porch and increased her pace. Thomas had returned. He sat on the pony cart’s bench and watched her approach.
“Thomas!”
He grinned. “Sorry. I couldn’t stay away. I took a chance you hadn’t gone to your aenti’s yet.”
“Mamm’s back!”
In the dark, she saw his wide smile.
“That’s wonderful gut!”
“She found a ride on the highway. A man saw her walking and brought her home.” She shuddered. Until that minute, she hadn’t considered what might have happened to her mother on the highway alone. She blew out her breath. God must have sent one of His angels in the form of that kind gentleman.
“Your dat?” he asked.
“Hopefully, he’s on his way back.”
“Marian, I’m so glad.”
She nodded. “Me, too. Do you want to come in and eat with us?”
He picked up a lantern from the floor of the cart. “Nee. It’s already almost dark. I need to get back.” He gazed at her. “I’ve brought you something.”
Her brows raised. “You have? What?”
He reached under his seat and drew out a thick newspaper. “Here.”
She took it from him, puzzled. “But what’s this?”
“A newspaper.”
“I can see that.” She looked at him in the shadowy light. “But why are you giving it to me?”
“It’s printed in Ohio. Read through it, and you’ll understand.”
She tried to read some of the headlines, but it was too dark. “My folks aren’t big on newspapers.”
“They will be with this one.” His voice held a mysterious note, and she couldn’t stifle her curiosity.
“Thomas Graft!” she said. “Tell me why you’ve brought it to me!”
He chuckled. “This is the night for gut news.”
“You mean there’s happy news in the paper? About what?”
“Jah, but that’s not what I’m givin’ it to you for.”
“Thomas!” she exclaimed.
“Ach, all right,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. “I know you love to write.”
She stepped back. Did he know about her blog?
“And I know you used to do it on the computer at the library.”
Now, she was flat-out shocked. She had no remembrance of sharing that news with him.
“I figured you missed it. The writing, I mean.”
“But how did you know?”
“I saw that girl, Amy.”
Marian’s mouth dropped open. “Amy?”
“Jah. She was at the Feed and Supply. I knew who she was right off. You told me about her, you know.”
So she did. She remembered that.
“But how in the world did my writing come up?”
Thomas fussed with the lantern, lighting it. The instant circle of yellow light illuminated his face and Marian saw he was well-pleased with himself.
“We spoke for quite a while.”
Marian frowned. Just what had Amy told him? Had she told him about Roger?
“What did she say?”
“Only that she thinks you’re great, and your writing is wonderful.”
Marian held her breath, hoping against hope that Roger’s name hadn’t been brought up. It would be too easy to misinterpret their friendship. Not that it was a secret. She fully intended to tell Thomas about Roger, but not right then. Not right on the heels of getting back together.
“Ach, Marian. You should see your face! Why are you upset? She only said nice things.”
Marian exhaled. He was right. She was being silly.
“So after talking to Amy, you’re bringing me the newspaper?”
“It’s an Amish and Mennonite newspaper.”
“What?”
“Pure one hundred percent Amish and Mennonite.”
“But I didn’t know…”
“My folks get it from time to time. So this evening when I saw it lying on the table, I wondered.”
“Wondered what?”
“Look inside.”
She stepped closer to the lantern and opened the newspaper. A small gasp of pleasure escaped her when she saw articles written about everyday life, local happenings. There was an entire section devoted to news bits and thoughts from each district.
They read like a blog. Her eyes grew huge.
Thomas studied her. “No one reports anything from Hollybrook. You could do that.”
Excitement grabbed her and she opened her mouth, but no words would come.
He laughed. “For a writer, you sure don’t have much to say.”
She shook her head over and over and then her words came forth in a torrent. “Thomas, thank you. Thank you! How wonderful!”
He grinned at her. “What’s a beau for if he can’t make his intended happy once and a while.”
She wanted to throw her arms around him and never let go, but she knew it wasn’t seemly. She clasped the newspaper to her chest and beamed at him.
“I think my work is done here,” he said with another chuckle. “Marian, I’m right happy your mamm is home. Tell your dat for me, would you?”
“I will.”
“Can we meet at the covered bridge tomorrow? Mid-afternoon?”
“I’ll be there. At three, okay?”
“At three.” He picked up the reins and clicked his tongue.
Marian’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him leave, the lantern swinging gently with the slow movement of the cart.
She turned to face her front door. Mamm was in there. With Izzie. And Dat would be home soon.
She knew their problems weren’t over. Mamm had run away before the doctors cleared her to go. But maybe, just maybe, Mamm had known what she was doing. Maybe she knew she needed to be home. That she’d be better now at home. That her months away were over.
Marian felt certain the sanitarium hadn’t been a waste of time or a waste of the district’s money. Things had been desperate back then. Her mother had been beside herself, unable to function normally.
She glanced at the front window where the light from inside fell against the porch rail in a dancing pattern of streaks. Things would be better now. Not perfect. But she didn’t need perfect. Just better. Enough to give them all hope and a future.
Perhaps Marian hadn’t believed enough in her mother or in God.
She took a deep slow breath. Jah, Mamm was back. Their family could normalize again, slowly, but surely. And however it played out, Thomas was with her. He didn’t accept their break-up. She w
ould never have to say good-bye to him again.
She grabbed the stair rail and walked up the steps. She stood on the porch and listened to the night sounds around her. From the fields, a cow bellowed. The wind whistled softly through the trees making the leaves flutter like the pages of a book. From inside the house came the happy squeal of a baby who was finally reunited with her mama.
Marian grinned. It was all right. Everything was all right. Dat would be home soon and the four of them would all sleep that night in their own beds.
Where they belonged.
The End
Amish Days
The Big Freeze
An Amish Romance Short Story
by Brenda Maxfield
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder. Copyright © 2015 Tica House Publishing
One
Out of the south cometh the whirlwind: and cold out of the north. By the breath of God frost is given: and the breadth of the waters is straightened.
Job 37:9-10 (King James Version)
Marian hesitated outside the side entrance of the big house. She pressed her hand against the painted door and worked to muster up her courage. Thomas’s mother was waiting for her and probably growing more impatient by the minute. Marian squared her shoulders to face the woman’s certain icy greeting.
Since Marian had married Thomas some weeks ago, Betsy Groft hadn’t softened. If anything, her attitude had hardened into steel.
“Give her time. It’s a big adjustment,” Thomas tried to reassure her.
But Marian wasn’t reassured. She was beside herself trying to figure out what she’d done to offend the woman. As far as she could discern, she’d never been anything but nice to Betsy Groft. In truth, she’d never been anything but nice to the whole family.
Thomas’s brother and three sisters had warmed up to her and even seemed to like her. Six-year-old Deb was exuberant with her affection—but only when her mamm wasn’t about. If Betsy was in the room, Deb toned it way down, murmuring to Marian instead of bursting forth with her usual enthusiasm.
Amish Romance BOOK BUNDLE: Marian's Story: Amish Romance Boxed Set (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 11