by Sarah Price
“Lydia,” Abe said, his voice low and even. “If you would just release the idea and relax, stop thinking about it, mayhaps the good Lord would send you a boppli. But you can’t seem to do that right now, can you? You dwell on the negative and push us away!”
“Abe! I’ve never pushed you away!”
He frowned at her, that look that she could never quite figure out crossing his face again. “You need to relax, Lydia.”
“I try,” she whispered.
“Try harder,” he snapped, his eyes sharp and fierce. “Now, go take something for your headache and, since you are home early, come out and help me tend to the cows. No use sitting here feeling sorry for yourself. I sure could use more help with the chores.” He didn’t wait for her answer before he turned around and walked back toward the door.
She sat on the sofa in the kitchen, staring at him as he left. For a long moment, she kept watching the empty doorway, wishing that he would come back and take her into his arms, to talk to her the way that he had during their courtship. But that side of her husband had disappeared long ago. Disappeared when she had lost hope of ever having a baby of her own.
If only, she thought, as she stood up and reluctantly followed in the direction of her husband.
Susie
Susie hurried into her kitchen and, after pushing aside several dirty plates, she set her empty lunch basket on the counter. Quickly, she did an assessment of the kitchen and realized that, once again, her kitchen was a complete mess. The sink was filled with pans and glasses. The table still had dirty plates from the dinner meal. Someone had attempted to make bread and there was flour all over the counter by the stove.
She wondered when that had happened since the kinner were supposed to go to her mother-in-law’s house after breakfast and morning chores. She was more than certain that she had only put two things on the list for the kinner to do: clean the kitchen and weed the garden. Baking bread had most definitely not been on that list.
With a sigh, Susie stepped over a pair of dirty socks on the linoleum and walked toward the sink to try to wash the dishes that had piled up on the counter. No sooner had she turned on the water, she heard the back door open. The hinges squeaking as it did.
She dreaded the heavy footsteps that she heard on the floorboards in the other room. There was a shuffling noise that caused goose bumps to crawl up her arms. Susie felt her shoulders hunch forward as she tried to shrink within herself. Quickly, she immersed herself into the task of cleaning the dishes, washing them as fast as she could in the hopes of getting them tended to before her husband would walk out of the mudroom and into the kitchen.
“Should’ve known,” he snapped as he walked through the doorway. “Having my mamm watch your kinner while you work outside the house,” Merv scoffed. “That’s just great, Susie! Keep neglecting your family and your home.”
She cowered from his booming, sarcastic voice. “I should be done here in just a few minutes, Merv. Then I can get started on supper.”
“Likely that!” he said, a harsh tone to his voice. “I want you quitting that store, you hear me? A married woman with kinner working outside the home!” She didn’t have to turn around to know that he was shaking his head, mocking her.
Susie kept her back to him, busying herself with the dishes. She wanted to point out that she was not the only married Amish woman who worked outside of the home. She knew plenty of women who worked at market or stores during the week while their kinner stayed with a grossmammi or aendi. It was just the way things were done.
But Susie knew that arguing would only raise his ire and that was something she didn’t want to do, for sure and certain. His mocking words no longer cut through her. She felt immune to the complaints and to his constant criticism. His coldness went to his core and she knew that nothing she did or said could change him. Instead, at night, before he retired to their bedroom, she would get down on her knees and press her hands together to pray, pray that God would lighten his heart and help her through this rough patch.
Only the prayers had gone on for several years now and the rough patch was being stretched far too thin. No matter how hard she tried, he continued to push her away. If Merv’s main complaint was that she wasn’t home enough due to her job at Whoopie Pie Place, Susie was certain of one thing: working at Whoopie Pie Place was the only peace and joy that she could count on, even if sister Lydia was known for throwing tantrums and leaving early.
Sadie
Sadie stared out the kitchen window, watching her sister Leah walking down the hill, by the pond. She knew that her sister often went there to think after a long day at the store. Sometimes, Sadie contemplated joining her sister, hoping to tell her some of the things that were on her mind. But she knew that her sister needed her own time and space, just a few short minutes, in order to decompress and reflect.
Sadie sighed and turned away from the window, quickly looking around the room. Everything was tidy and the table was set, ready for supper. If nothing else, Sadie wanted to make the evenings a bit nicer for her oldest sister. Leah had taken on quite the responsibility and Sadie knew that it burdened her with too much worry. She could see the grey hair at her crown and the deep furrows that seemed to permanently mark Leah’s forehead.
The screen door opened, the hinges squeaking, as Leah walked into the kitchen. She glanced around and a look of relief washed over her face. “My word, Sadie! That’s just like a gift to my eyes, sweet sister! You are ever so thoughtful and kind!”
“No more so than anyone else,” Sadie replied modestly. Like many Amish women, Sadie was not the one to take a compliment without a gentle reminder of the goodness in others.
Leah sank down into a chair at the table. “Have you seen Tobias? He was slinking about today. Worries me that,” she added.
Sadie watched her sister as she rubbed the back of her neck. Workdays were long days for everyone but Sadie knew that Leah suffered the most. Her two oldest kinner, Aaron and Rebecca, usually helped their father while the twins and her two year old, Anna, stayed next door with Esther, brother Jacob’s wife. Of course, always, Rebecca came to the store on Saturdays to help her mamm. Today, however, Leah’s husband, Thomas, had taken the kinner to visit with his mamm and daed. Sadie hated to admit it but it sure was nice to come home to a quiet house, for a change.
“Haven’t seen him much today,” Sadie replied, turning slightly so that she could glance out the window. “In fact, only twice.”
Leah sighed. “I sure hope his illness isn’t back.”
Leah had always despised the word “cancer”. It was like poison. No, she thought. It was poison, both physically and spiritually. Leah simply couldn’t even bring herself to name the specific kind: Leukemia. It was as if, by not saying the word, the disease might go away. Poof! Vanish on its own, leaving no trace of fatigue or bad headaches or aches and pains.
“I’ll go check if he’s upstairs,” Sadie offered, not waiting for her sister to stop her.
As she suspected, Sadie found him lying down in his room, the shades drawn and his arm tossed over his head, his blond curls stuck to his forehead from sweat. Tiptoeing across the room, Sadie leaned over and pressed her hand against his cheek. The touch of her skin on his caused him to stir and he quickly sat up, blinking his eyes rapidly as he tried to focus on his sister.
“Wie gehts?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
“Supper time, Tobias,” she answered, keeping her voice soft. “Unless you are feeling poorly?”
He shook his head and, slowly, swung his legs over the side of the bed. A big yawn and a quick shake of his head helped wake him from his slumber. “Nee,” he mumbled, rubbing the sides of his face. “I’m fine.”
Sadie watched as he walked down the stairs, his feet shuffling and shoulders slouched. He had always been a small child, the other children outgrowing him by leaps and bounds. Yet, he had always tried to keep a positive attitude. Today, Sadie could see that he was struggling just to go through the mo
tion of joining his sisters at the supper table.
No, she reckoned. He’s far from fine.
He almost stumbled across the kitchen floor and tossed himself down on the bench where Leah’s kinner normally sat. He didn’t seem to notice that no one else was there except his two sisters. Propping his head against his hand, he leaned on his elbow, eyes almost shut. There was no color to his face, at least none that reflected the fact that it was still summer. Instead, he was almost an ash grey.
Sadie’s eyes flicked over to Leah, too aware that her older sister was watching their younger brother. Quickly, Sadie busied herself with bringing the prepared food over to the table: Cold cuts, fresh bread, applesauce, and chow-chow. When everything was set upon the table before Leah and Tobias, Sadie joined them.
They bowed their heads in silent prayer, waiting for Leah to lift her head before they, too, followed suit. For a few moments, the room was silent; no conversation, the only noise in the room coming from the clinking of plates and utensils. Outside, a buggy rolled down the road, the familiar clip-clop of the horse’s hooves becoming louder as it neared the farm. It was a comforting noise and Sadie paused, just for a moment, to listen to it. Savvy as she was with the farm animals she could hear a faint secondary click in the horse’s alternate beat as he was ambling over the even road adjacent to the farm. Must be one shoe becoming lose, she pondered; will need to be tacked back within a day or two, that’s for certain.
“Tobias!”
Leah’s sharp tone snapped Sadie’s attention back to the table. Her sister was glaring fiercely at their younger brother. It only took Sadie but an instant to realize why. He had put barely anything on his plate and he was leaning again, against his hands, his eyes drooping with fatigue.
“What is wrong with you, child?” Leah asked, her tone not necessarily kind and compassionate. But Sadie knew that behind the harshness was concern. Leave it to Leah, the mother hen of the brood.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, avoiding Leah’s eyes.
“Sure don’t look like nothing to me! Now you eat, you hear me? I want to see you with a full plate! You are but skin and bones and you need good food to stay well!”
Obediently, he reached for more applesauce and dished it onto his plate. Sadie knew that it would make Leah happy, for applesauce would boost his appetite and help put some meat on his bones.
And that was when it hit her. Sadie stared down at her own plate and realized that she, too, had no appetite. Furthermore, like Tobias, she was tired. It wasn’t a tired from working hard all day. It was a bone weary tired, the kind of tired that made her ache. Then her head began to pound, a deep throbbing behind the temples that caused little white lights to flash before her eyes.
“Leah,” she started, feeling as if the room was spinning. “You mind if I excuse myself?”
At this question, Leah looked up and, with concern in her face, stared at her sister. It was unlike Sadie to leave the table without eating. “You, too? Mayhaps there’s a bug going around, ja?”
Sadie shook her head. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I’m just tired and achy.”
Leah tilted her head as if assessing her youngest sister. Sadie could feel her eyes on her back as she stood up and, after quickly setting her plate on the counter, began to move toward the stairs.
“I’ll check on you after supper,” a concerned Leah said, still watching Sadie, a frown on her face as she did so.
Sadie started to wave her hand over her shoulder when she heard Tobias. He leaned over and began to vomit on the floor, the applesauce obviously not settling in his stomach. As she ascended the stairs, she heard Leah divert her attention back to young Tobias, fussing as she jumped from her seat and took the boy in her arms. Sadie glanced over her shoulder, aware that her own sudden wave of fatigue and the dizziness that she had experienced were forgotten as Leah began to comfort Tobias and take charge of the mess. For a moment, she contemplated helping her sister but she felt dizzy and weak. Leah had everything under control. It hadn’t been the first time that this had happened. Not with Tobias.
With a sigh of relief, Sadie continued upstairs and retreated to her room. It would do no good to add to Leah’s worry. Of that, she was sure and certain.
Part Two
So the pious will be tried
Here on earth,
That their faith be found
Pure, genuine, and purified.
But after this short time,
They will rejoice forever
With unspeakable joy.
Ausbund, Song 124 Verse 8
Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
And do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He will make straight your paths.
Proverbs 3:5-6
The Porch
Leah sat on the swinging chair that Thomas had hung from the porch. How long ago had it been, she wondered. Three years? No, definitely less. He had hung the swing there shortly before they had moved onto the farm when her parents had been killed. It had been his gift to Leah, a place for her to watch the day fade into evening.
Besides the pond, the swing was her favorite place to sit and reflect. She loved the creaking sound of the wood as she swung back and forth, a cool breeze caressing her skin as she reflected on the day.
It had started out like any other day: the chaos in the morning, the tourists in the store, the bickering among Susie and Lydia. Why should anything be different, she had thought to herself, too aware of the sarcasm building up in her own mind. But then, she had taken that message from voice mail. That had changed everything.
How in the world would Whoopie Pie Place be able to fulfill those orders? She second-guessed herself, wondering if she, perhaps, had been too quick to say yes. Had it been pride?
Leah shut her eyes and leaned back as she pushed the swing backward. Ja, she thought. Pride indeed. And now she was in quite the pickle, wasn’t she?
“Leah?”
She lifted her head and saw her husband standing by the screen door of the kitchen. He must have gone into the house through the side door for she had not heard him returning from the barn. With a tired smile, she patted the seat next to her on the swing.
“Come,” she managed to say. “Let me tell you about my day. Something quite amazing happened.”
The screen door squeaked as he opened it and Leah was not surprised to see that he held two glasses of fresh meadow tea. Thomas was thoughtful like that. He was her rock, so full of understanding and support. Leah prayed her thanks to God daily for having put Thomas into her life. Just when she was down, just when she was worn out, there he was…this time with a cool drink and loving smile on his face. He handed her one and took his place beside her on the swing.
“Tell me,” he said, his free hand gently taking hers and lifting it to his lips to brush a soft kiss against her skin. “Tell me about that amazing day of yours…”
Earlier That Day
Whoopie Pie Place
Most mornings, Leah was the first to arrive at the bakery. Throughout the tourist season, she preferred to be the one opening the bakery. She didn’t mind since she was up early in the morning. She loved having the laundry already washed and hung before the sun peeked over the horizon. After making breakfast for her family, she would clean the kitchen before it was time to leave the house. And always, she left a note of to-do chores for the kinner.
The night before, a storm had blown through their little community but it appeared that there had been no damage to the bakery beyond a few tree limbs that had to be removed from the walkway. However, the storm had downed some trees on the family farm so Leah was sure that her brother Jacob would be out clearing them for the better part of the day.
As Leah passed the family farmhouse, which was located within a stone’s throw from the bakery, she noticed that her sister-in-law Esther already had her laundry out. Leah raised an eyebrow, wondering whether it was actually clean laundry ha
nging on the line or just dirty sheets that her sister-in-law had put on the line. Leah was too aware of the unspoken contest among the women to see who could have their laundry out the earliest on Mondays. Some women were known to go so far as to put dirty bed sheets out until they had a load of clean clothes to hang, thus giving the perception that they had finished their laundry before others. Laughing to herself, Leah suspected that Esther was certainly one who might try to pull that trick.
In the quiet of the morning, Leah would unlock the door to the store and walk inside, enjoying the lingering smells from yesterday’s baked goods. Without a moment’s delay, she would begin making the dough for the morning bread so that, by the time Lydia and Sadie arrived, it would have risen twice and be ready for shaping and baking.
Structure and order. That was the way their mamm had raised them. Indeed, most Amish women went to great strides to achieve perfection in the cleanliness of their homes, obedience of their children, and the beautiful colors that donned their gardens.
That was why, after punching down the dough for the last time and rolling it into small loaves to rise in the metal pans, she stood on the front porch of the store and wondered where Susie was.
Timeliness was another typical characteristic of the Amish. Being tardy was just as much wasteful as it was disrespectful. Unfortunately, as of late, Susie was never on time. She always seemed hurried and out of breath, running late and apologizing for it. Leah knew that her sister’s home weighed heavily on her mind. There was much for Susie to do and not a lot of help, in fact, practically none, that came from her young kinner or husband’s family.
While it was true that, at the beginning of her marriage, Susie had been the perfect Amish wife, something had changed after the birth of her third child. When excusing her own tardiness in the mornings, she often complained of having too much to do. This was something Leah couldn’t understand, especially since most Amish women normally had more than six children and the same amount of time and responsibility as Susie. For that reason, the more Susie complained, the more her complaints fell on deaf and unsympathetic ears.