“Hours?” Mandy was shocked that her sister believed this. “It was a few minutes, if that.”
“Well, I remember it differently,” Arie said gently.
Mandy let it go. There was no need to have the last word over something that took place so long ago.
As they traveled home later in Arie’s buggy, Mandy could sense her sister was weary, the driving lines slack in her slender hands. Still, Arie seemed fairly talkative as she reminisced about her last visit to market with Mamma.
“How was Mamma’s health before she died?” Mandy asked now. “Jerome said she kept going, not wanting to slow down much, even though she wasn’t well. Wouldn’t see a medical doctor.”
“Oh, Mamma kept busy enough, but we all noticed she tired easily. Even so, caring for the guests was her lifeblood.”
Mandy contemplated that. “So do you ever think about Dat’s brother’s visit after Dat passed away?”
Arie hesitated. “Sometimes. I still remember how surprised I was, and him bringin’ his little sons, too. Seemed ever so odd, so soon after the funeral.”
Mandy nodded, tempted to ask, Do you still think we made a mistake?
“Onkel Albert,” Arie said softly.
Only a few months after Dat’s death, Onkel Albert Dienner had arrived with his youngest sons to help Mamma get the inn up and going, taking it upon himself to visit for an extended time. And without any warning that he was coming, no less.
Even though she was only thirteen years old, Mandy had felt uneasy about it from the moment he and his boys arrived, given that his wife had died in childbirth not more than eight months prior. And while her brothers didn’t seem to have a problem with him and their boy cousins staying in the upstairs bedrooms, it was Mandy who had panicked one afternoon when she happened upon Uncle Albert helping Mamma hitch up Ol’ Tulip. From everything Mandy observed, the man was out of line, getting too close to Mamma, who was still very much grieving Dat.
So Mandy had dug in her heels and insisted that Uncle Albert must have ulterior motives for wanting to help establish the inn, and she’d told Arie Mae so in the privacy of their room. “Just ain’t right,” she’d said. “Somebody’s gotta stick up for Mamma.”
“Who are we to say we know what’s best for her?” Arie had protested.
“We’re her daughters,” Mandy had replied indignantly. “If anyone knows what’s best for Mamma, it’s us.”
That had calmed Arie down some, and after Arie, too, had witnessed something similar in the kitchen one morning, when no one was around but their uncle and Mamma, she and Mandy had told Jerome of their concerns. Thankfully, their big brother believed them and had intervened, for which both Mandy and Arie were grateful—and relieved.
The very next day, Uncle Albert and his boys had packed up their things and were on their way. Much later, Mamma had shared with Mandy and Arie that Albert had gone so far as to declare his affection for her in those few weeks, which made things awfully awkward for Mamma, who hadn’t suspected anything of the kind.
Yet with the passage of time and the girls’ maturity, Mandy and Arie Mae had sometimes second-guessed their actions, especially when Mamma seemed lonely.
She might have found some added happiness with our uncle, Mandy thought presently as she and Arie rode home together.
“I think we were prob’ly a bit selfish,” Arie Mae commented now as she made the turn up the long lane to their childhood home. “We wanted Mamma to ourselves, and we were bein’ loyal to Dat.”
Mandy nodded, surprised that Arie would admit it. We didn’t see how anyone could replace him.
Those memories flooded her mind as they came to a halt behind the familiar farmhouse. Yet as sisters, we always stuck together . . . at least back then.
Before getting out of the carriage, Mandy invited Arie in for some meadow tea, but Arie was ready to return home. As Arie drove away, Mandy wondered if she’d ever feel comfortable asking Arie the question that nagged at her the most, at least regarding Mamma. One that had nothing to do with Onkel Albert.
Why did Mamma leave the inn to me? Mandy thought for the hundredth time. After all, her twin sister had stood by Mamma’s side, working every day with her . . . the loyal daughter. How come Arie doesn’t seem hurt . . . or miffed?
Trina was surprised at how well settled she already felt with Gavin’s sister, Melanie, after moving from Rochester, where she had packed up her things and put her condo on the market. Melanie’s brick row house in the Otterbein neighborhood of Baltimore was small compared with the Butterfly Meadows Amish Bed-and-Breakfast, and located on a rather busy street, which made Trina appreciate the tranquility of Amish farmland all the more. How swiftly one’s perspective can change! she mused.
She had immediately applied for recertification as a home health aide in Maryland, and in the meantime, she enjoyed evenings out with Gavin, who’d cut back some on his travels to spend time with her. The nights she stayed in, she relaxed in the beautifully restored living room while Melanie played the piano—everything from ragtime to Mozart to classically arranged hymns.
One such evening, Trina was reading a few of Gavin’s most recent writings—and finding she was developing a taste for his style of free verse—when her phone rang. It was Gavin, asking her out on a special date the following weekend, since he had some travel pressing this week and would miss seeing her. “Very uptown,” he said, a lilt in his voice.
“Okay, I’ll wear a dress and heels,” she said, wondering what was up. While they hadn’t been dating long, she and Gavin had already gone for a premarital counseling session, although she didn’t expect this “special date” to be the night Gavin would propose. Not yet. But the thought struck Trina that she might eventually be proposed to—and for the second time in her life.
Chapter
37
The following Tuesday evening, the breakfast room was resplendent with candlelight—several block candles marched across the mantel, and tapers graced the middle of the nicely laid table. All of the guests had enthusiastically signed up for the Amish meal, and Mandy and Arie were pleased to serve a three-bean salad to start, then the main course of creamed chipped beef over mashed potatoes, green beans with ham, and homemade potato rolls with melted butter. For dessert, Arie offered both steamed banana pudding and a delicious lemon cheesecake.
“You obviously have your mother’s flair for cooking,” one of the male guests said. “If you offered these dinners every night, you could retire early,” he added as he indulged in Mandy’s offer of seconds on dessert.
Arie Mae smiled and accepted the compliments with her usual grace.
Another guest asked for them to say the Lord’s Prayer in German, which they both did. Mamma had never denied such a request, saying it was a precious way to honor their heritage of faith.
When the meal was over, Mandy and Arie worked in tandem to redd up. Then, tuckered out, they sat together in the kitchen to each have a small piece of cheesecake. “Was it worth all the extra work?” Mandy asked, concerned for her sister, who was rubbing the small of her back.
Arie nodded. “It’s a gut way to spread word ’bout the inn, jah?”
“True. And gut money, too,” Mandy said absently, thinking that the next owner would appreciate all that had gone into building positive word of mouth. She wondered when she should inform Arie of her plans to sell and leave the area, dreading the conversation.
“The extra money will come in handy for repairs and whatnot,” Arie replied and mentioned that Josiah had recently said the stable roof needed to be replaced, as it had weathered one too many hailstorms. “None of them were bad enough to warrant replacing the whole roof, so he just kept patchin’ it.”
“I’ll do what has to be done,” Mandy agreed. “But I still say you oughta be paid for your work here,” she added.
“I told Jerome what I’m doin’, and he didn’t seem to mind. And I’ve been thinkin’ that I’ll need to take some time off after the baby is born,” Arie sa
id, sipping some water. “When I’m ready, I’ll bring him or her with me in a Pack ’n Play, or maybe get the old cradle down from the attic here.”
Mandy was surprised, since they’d agreed that Arie would work only up to the delivery.
“Well, let’s see how ya feel—take it a day at a time, maybe?” Mandy also knew that Cousin Kate could step in to cook breakfast, and possibly two to three dinners a week, if they decided to continue that. “I’m concerned that you’re workin’ too hard.”
“Puh! I feel great,” Arie said, laughing. “I really do, but it’s awful nice of you to fret over me.”
“Mamma would’ve, that’s for sure.”
“Jah, our dear mother hen,” Arie said, smiling sweetly as she glanced at the wall hanging with the Scripture verse. “I miss her every day.”
Mandy nodded, thinking the very same.
When they’d finished eating their dessert, Mandy insisted Arie take the leftovers home to Josiah, then offered to drive Arie home, since it was dusk.
“Oh, would ya mind?” Arie said, and there was that beautiful smile again.
“I’ll bring the car round the back.”
Arie waved her hand. “You’re pampering me unnecessarily.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Mandy said. “Mamma’s not here to look after you, remember. So, here, let me take the leftovers so your hands are free.” Arie and I act like when we were youngsters, getting along wonderfully, she mused. She breathed in the fragrant twilight as she headed out to the parking area, glad to have this chance to perhaps drive the back roads, once Arie was safely home. She had some thinking to do, and it wasn’t always easy when there was so much going on at the inn, booked solid now every single night.
Arie was waiting for Mandy in the backyard, her arms folded across her ever-expanding middle. “This is so kind of you, sister,” she said, getting into the front seat.
“You’d do it for me, jah?” Mandy said, then added with a smile, “Just not with a car.”
Laughing softly at first, Arie was quiet once she was buckled in. She leaned forward and touched the dashboard. “Makes me wonder, sometimes, how long you’ll keep it.”
“This car?”
Arie nodded.
“It’s not becoming of me, I know.” Mandy had wondered when this might come up with Arie, considering Jerome had already expressed his disapproval a number of times.
“Preacher Stoltzfus was askin’ about it . . . guess he wonders if you’re thinking of taking baptismal classes this summer, now that you’re home again.”
Mandy didn’t want to admit that she had no plans to, because that might lead to an undesirable discussion. “Like you, once your baby comes . . . I’m takin’ things one day at a time,” she said, glad to have thought of something that might keep the peace.
She pulled up close to the back walkway at Arie’s house and let her out there. “Don’t forget the leftovers,” Mandy reminded her, even saying she could carry the containers for her, though Arie wouldn’t hear of it.
“Denki again.”
“Denki to you,” Mandy replied, then waited till Arie was in the house before backing out of the lane and turning north onto Old Leacock Road. Her mind wandered as she thought ahead to November. My return to modern life, she thought, her feelings more mixed than she would have anticipated.
During some leisure moments on recent Sundays, Mandy had found time to research towns around Maryland and Pennsylvania as options for places to live and possibly open a florist shop. She’d taken particular interest in smaller communities like Hagerstown, Maryland, though she recalled that the Frys hadn’t felt they could do well with the big-city competition encroaching upon them. Mandy had kept that in mind. Truth was, she thought she might actually prefer to run a B and B somewhere. After all, a large portion from the sale of Butterfly Meadows would have to go toward the purchase of a place to live, as well as start-up costs. Perhaps she should just look for another small inn. . . .
Then why not just stay? She sighed. Am I that ferhoodled?
Pushing it out of her mind, she meandered along until she decided to pull over and give Trina Sutton a quick call. She parked in front of Leacock Shoe Store and dialed.
When she heard Trina’s voice, Mandy said, “Hullo, it’s Mandy Dienner.”
“Mandy Dienner! As opposed to all the other Mandys I know?”
Mandy laughed. Sounds just like her.
“It’s about time you called me! I was beginning to feel like chopped liver.”
Again, Mandy had to chuckle. “I’ve been thinking ’bout you. Are you glad ya moved to Maryland?”
“Well, Gavin and I were engaged last weekend, and we’re talking about an autumn wedding.”
“Engaged! Ach, I’m so happy for ya.”
“Who’da thunk it?” Trina asked. “But the real question is . . . how are you?”
She filled her in on Arie’s return and how they were getting along again. “And Betsy Kauffman, who worked here before, is helping out, too.”
“So, how are you and your sister really getting on?” Trina asked.
Wonderfully, Mandy thought, feeling a strange stab in her stomach. “We’re fine,” she said.
“Fine?”
“Jah,” Mandy said simply, feeling a little deceitful.
Trina went silent for a moment, and Mandy braced herself for one of her friend’s direct comments.
“I worried how you’d manage with just you and Arie, since she’s pregnant.”
“Well, let me tell you . . .” Mandy mentioned what a fast and hard worker her sister was, adding that they were even offering special evening meals now.
“You’ll soon be rolling in it.” Trina was laughing.
Mandy had to laugh, too, at her friend’s candor.
They exchanged a few more remarks about the inn, then Mandy asked, “Are you workin’ yet?”
Trina paused. “Waiting for my recertification presently, but I help Gavin’s sister around the house when she’s at work—cooking, you know. And I’ve been enjoying Gavin’s church, making new friends there.”
Mandy was thrilled to hear it. “Well, I hope you’ll come an’ visit soon.”
“That would be so much fun. But first, I need to make some money!” Trina laughed once more; then they said good-bye.
Mandy sat there, marveling at the difference in the young woman who’d first shown up at her door that wintry evening last November.
Trina’s question lingered in her mind: “How are you and your sister really getting on?”
Mandy sighed and thought of Arie Mae. It was as if they’d painted over the wall without patching up the holes first.
On the drive back to Butterfly Meadows, Mandy noticed several buggies parked at Arie’s, and all the windows were aglow with gaslight, too. A car drove up, and a woman hurried into the house. The local midwife? she wondered, not sure who else it could be at this hour. Is the baby coming early?
Not wanting to be in the way, Mandy didn’t stop. Yet she was curious and found herself praying for a safe delivery for Arie’s new son or daughter.
Before getting ready for bed and then again before putting out her lamp, Mandy checked to see if the house lights were still on over at Josiah and Arie’s, feeling increasingly tense, wondering if something was amiss. Surely not, she thought. Arie’s strong and healthy and has a good midwife. She wanted to work right up till her delivery.
Nevertheless, Mandy decided to stay dressed and rest on top of the bed with a lightweight quilt over her, praying that all would be well.
Suddenly, in the stillness of the darkened room, Mandy awakened. She felt a sense of urgency and wondered if the Lord had nudged her awake. Reaching for the flashlight, she shone it on the windup alarm clock. Two-thirty.
Raising a window shade, she saw that Arie’s house was still alight, and she hurried down the hall to the coat closet for a sweater and a bandanna, whispering prayers as she moved about. “Give Arie a safe delivery . . . and a health
y baby,” she prayed, heading out the back way.
The moon was only half full, so she carried her flashlight and took the slightly longer way since the cornfield was muddy from recent rain. Down the sloping driveway and out to the road, Mandy made her way, accompanied by the never-ending chirping of crickets.
The air was filled with the scent of freshly cut hay, and a breeze rustled in the canopies of the trees, but not a single car or carriage passed by as she rushed toward the farmhouse, praying with all of her heart for Arie Mae.
And then she saw Josiah running toward her. “Come quick! Arie Mae’s been askin’ for ya!”
Chapter
38
Is she all right?” Mandy asked, hurrying to keep up with Josiah’s long strides.
“I pray so,” he said. And together, they dashed up the lane, neither saying another word.
The back door was ajar as they stepped up onto the porch. Josiah let Mandy pass through first, his hair disheveled, his pale blue shirt rumpled.
Josiah’s father and Hank and Willie—two of Josiah’s older brothers—were sitting in the kitchen talking in low tones at the table. Pausing there, where they were obviously awaiting word of the birth, Mandy felt out of place. Josiah’s father looked worried, his perpetual frown deep and hard. Mandy’s stomach churned. Most likely Josiah’s mother and sisters-in-law were already with Arie Mae.
Mandy followed Josiah up the stairs, pleading silently, Please keep my sister and the baby safe, O Lord.
In the hallway, Josiah’s two sisters-in-law were sitting in folding chairs, apparently praying, their heads bowed. And in the bedroom, Lois Ackerman, the Mennonite midwife, was in a chair on the far side of the bed. Clad in a dark blue jumper and white blouse, she rose just then to blot Arie’s forehead with a cold washcloth. Josiah’s mother sat near, her hands folded and her expression concerned.
Josiah moved a chair closer to the bed. “Go ahead and take a seat near Arie Mae,” he whispered, and Mandy did so as Josiah went to stand beside the window, his back to the room.
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