Debbie wiped the threat of a smile off her face and put on a sober look. These people had no end of surprises up their sleeves. And none of them were in any danger of drunkenness either. How great of the Lord to send her this little boost of humor right in the middle of the dark vortex she’d almost spiraled into.
Moments later the bishop’s voice interrupted her thoughts again as he called for testimonies on the sermon preached. Several more minutes passed as those were given by two older men. A song number was shouted out. After singing, the congregation would wash feet next. Debbie had gleaned this information from past conversations with the Beiler girls. They’d always been glad when the time had arrived because feet washing signaled the end of a long day.
There was more to the practice than simple relief, of course. When they washed each other’s feet, the members of the community demonstrated their forgiveness and acceptance of each other and their willingness to serve even the lowliest among them.
Suddenly an unexpected thought entered Debbie’s mind. She pinched herself when it first came. She wouldn’t do that. It was out of the question. Yet the thought wouldn’t go away. If she wanted to live in peace among these people, what better way to continue that journey than to clear the air between Mildred and her? She would wash Mildred’s feet.
The thought made chills of rage and fear run up and down her back. She would be admitting defeat by her action, there was no question about that. And what self-respecting girl ever admitted defeat—even in the face of obvious rejection? But that was exactly the kind of worldly thought she wished to leave behind. Debbie decided she must do this. For her own sake and for Alvin’s. She would release Alvin, and she would forgive Mildred.
Debbie steeled herself with determination. When her row of unmarried women moved toward the wash basins set up in the kitchen, she pushed forward and tapped Mildred on the shoulder. “I’d like to wash your feet,” she said with more confidence than she felt.
A look of horror appeared on Mildred’s face, but it was slowly replaced with relief as Debbie kept her smile evident. Mildred seemed to know what Debbie was up to as she sat down in front of one of the bowls and held her foot over the water. Debbie sank to her knees and took Mildred’s foot in her hands. It was the foot of a farm girl, rough and obviously used to being bare in the garden. Debbie dipped the foot into the basin and splashed water gently over it. Then she lifted Mildred’s foot gently and dried it. Then she took Mildred’s other foot and did the same.
When she finished, Debbie looked up to meet Mildred’s gaze. Her expression was hard to read. The two young women exchanged places. Her own feet in Mildred’s hands looked nothing like Mildred’s had. Hers were the feet of a city girl, soft and white. She worked outside barefoot occasionally at the Beilers’, but she was clearly in another league compared to Mildred. Maybe Alvin had been right in his choice. She wouldn’t have wanted to live with a man who always compared her to what he was used to and found her lacking.
Mildred finished Debbie’s feet, and the two stood and gave each other the customary kiss on the cheek.
Mildred held her close for a moment and whispered in Debbie’s ear, “Thank you for that. I hope you find the love of your life someday.”
Debbie nodded, but she didn’t trust her voice even to whisper. The two parted, and Debbie found her way back to her seat. This had indeed been a memorable day—way beyond anything she’d expected. Her mother would think she was mad for having washed her rival’s feet, but didn’t that answer the biggest question of all? She really was Amish, wasn’t she? Yes, she was! Debbie answered her own question. And for right now that was all that mattered.
Thirty-One
Ida pushed back the curtains of her upstairs bedroom to look out at the still, dark sky. She’d lit the kerosene lamp moments earlier unable to sleep any longer on this, her wedding day. She glanced at the clock on her dresser. Four-thirty. Ida took a deep breath. She’d been tense all night with a nameless dread that had now disappeared. Da Hah had seen her through the days and months since Melvin had passed, and today she would finally be a bride.
Ida rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The faces of Melvin’s children had rushed past her all day yesterday. But this wasn’t a stuck-together situation with Ben, Melvin’s brother, just for the children’s sake. Even if it had been, Ida reminded herself that this marriage would have been worth the price to have Melvin’s children in her life again. She’d wanted this, and Da Hah had mercy on her in granting her desire. He had sent the first feelings of love for Ben into her heart some weeks ago. Who would have thought that Ben had such a tender side to him? Life with him would be pleasant as Da Hah, hopefully, would give them many years together. She might actually come to love Ben as deeply as she had Melvin. She was older now, and what she had with Ben would be enough.
“Yah, it is,” Ida whispered. “It’s much more than I ever expected.”
Ben had agreed that it would be wise to meet with all the children last night at his place. They had put it off so that Melvin’s children wouldn’t struggle with the fear of losing Ida again at the last minute. But last night had been a good time to meet. The children were going to be scattered again among Ben’s family for a few days. And then they would all be together in one house. Ben and Ida would be back on Sunday night. Ben hadn’t requested the time alone with Ida, but wisely she had insisted. They did, after all, barely know each other. Normally a newly married couple had many months together before another person was added to the family. The least she could do was give Ben and her a few days of time alone to begin to establish a solid foundation as a married couple.
Ida smiled as she thought about what she’d told Ben. “You might need time to get used to my quirks.”
Ben had laughed. “You seem pretty normal to me.”
“I might be putting on quite a show,” she’d teased. Really, she had been honest with Ben from the start, and so had he been with her. That was a gut foundation on which to build a marriage. They could both be thankful for whatever love Da Hah had allowed to grow in their hearts for each other.
And by Monday morning, when all the children returned, they would be so buried with work there would be little time for anything else. That was really what had awakened her this morning, Ida mused. Willard, the eldest of Melvin’s children. Her largest and most urgent work lay with Willard. He’d never gotten over the shock of finding his daett’s mangled body under the cultivator. That was not something a nine-year-old should experience. Willard had been a cheerful, open boy before that day. But he had turned into a ten-year-old who spoke little and walked through life with a closed-off attitude. The happy Willard was inside there somewhere, Ida told herself. If Da Hah allowed her to reach Willard, then Ida felt her days on this earth would not have been wasted.
Rosa was eight now, and she had smiled willingly enough last night, clearly happy about this turn of events. At the first chance she had, Ida had drawn Rosa close to her on the couch in Ben’s living room and spent an hour alone with her. If nothing else, she wanted to let Rosa see that she would live permanently in her life.
The four youngest had chattered freely last night. Baby Lisa, who wasn’t quite a baby anymore at three years of age, kept clinging to Ida’s neck. She couldn’t imagine that Lisa remembered her from earlier in the spring, but the girl acted like she did. Maybe it was Da Hah’s grace showing itself again. Ida wiped away a tear and turned away from the window.
She would love all of the children. There was no doubt about that. Ben’s two children had accepted her last night with timid smiles. At least there had been no tense moments, even though their mamm had passed away not that long ago. Wilma and John were a testament to Ben’s child-raising abilities. He was stern but also kind with his children. Ida liked that combination.
Ida changed into her chore dress as her thoughts turned to Debbie and Paul. If she could only get the two of them together permanently, what an accomplishment that would be. Ida sighed. She really must stop her
scheming. That wasn’t right. All she could do was pray and help where possible. And at her wedding hadn’t Verna tried to help Alvin and Debbie along by having them be table waiters? Yah, and so Ida was doing nothing wrong when she’d asked Debbie to be her witness alongside Paul. Da Hah knew the man needed to get out of the house and around people again. That had been reason enough to ask him. Ida had thought Debbie wouldn’t agree to the arrangement at first. She could be awfully stubborn when it came to Paul Wagler. And Debbie probably had hopes Alvin would return to her someday. Those hopes had, of course, been dashed when Alvin began to date Mildred.
Thankfully Debbie had finally agreed to sit with Paul today. She had given her consent after breakfast on Monday morning. Ida drove to Verna’s to inform Joe, so he’d pass the final word on to Paul. The truth was, Ida had Joe approach Paul early last week already to ask him if he’d consider a witness position alongside Debbie. Joe had been told to tell Paul that Debbie hadn’t agreed to it yet, that this was all Ida’s idea.
Ida headed down the stairs with her kerosene lamp. Debbie and Paul were now in Da Hah’s hands. The bride-to-be had done what she could. She made her way through the church benches already set up in the living room and entered the kitchen. There were no visitors in the house, which was a strange feeling for an Amish wedding. Mamm had actually agreed to keep the wedding small, and all of the immediate families lived in Snyder County. Wayne and Reuben, Ida’s two oldest married brothers would come with their wives and family, as would Verna and Joe with little Sarah Mae. Beyond that, Ben’s immediate family and the church district had been invited. Ben’s youngest brother, Phillip, who was still single, would be up from Lancaster. He’d agreed to serve as Ben’s witness from their side of the family, and Ida was glad. Ben’s gesture to heal wounds from a past quarrel with the family had been accepted. Quarrels were sad, but their wedding might play a part in the settlement of one.
And Lois would be here—but not Doug. Maybe Mamm could have them all back in the house for Thanksgiving, and then Doug and the Beiler family could warm up to each other. Ida doubted it would happen though. The pain Lois had left in Mamm and Daett’s hearts wouldn’t heal quickly.
Ida turned her thoughts back to today. She was happy with her wedding plans. There would be enough people in attendance. And all she really needed was Ben beside her and Daett to marry them. That would be a sight, Ida thought, laughing to herself. A couple and a bishop who stood in the living room all by themselves and said their vows.
Nee, she would need more than that, Ida decided. On her wedding day she wanted to be surrounded by her family and the community, and that’s just what would happen today. Ben and Ida were not islands in the sea that floated along on their own. They were connected with each other, with family, with the community, each dependent on the aid and love others supplied. This was her world, and she would now go through the rest of her days as a married woman among her people. Even if Da Hah should someday choose to take Ben before she passed, she would be known as his widow. Her days as a single woman would never return.
She heard the downstairs bedroom door open. Ida waited until Mamm appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“You’re up already? Are you okay?”
Ida smiled. “Don’t worry, Mamm. I’m not having doubts. I woke up thinking about the children.”
Mamm sat down on a kitchen chair. “It’s hard to let you go, Ida. I guess you know that. But of all my daughters, you’re leaving for the most worthy cause.”
“Ah, Mamm.” Ida took a chair beside her. “I love the man too. You know that.”
Mamm smiled for a moment. “And I’m glad to see that, but you know what I mean. Don’t overwork yourself, Ida. Remember that. And there will be children of your own, I suppose. They take a toll on a woman. You have to pace yourself. You can’t carry the whole world on your shoulders.”
Ida moved closer. “Mamm, please relax. I know all that already. Why are you telling me this now?”
Mamm regarded her for a moment. “I don’t know, Ida. Just be careful. No woman knows when it happens until suddenly exhaustion has crept up on her because her life has become nothing but children, and work, and dirty diapers. Don’t let that happen to you, Ida. Take time to help with the chores—with Ben. In fact, make time. You’re not really a house-type woman. Your heart has always been outside. You need that at times. Ben will understand—if you tell him.”
Ida laughed, the sound soft against the kitchen walls. “You surprise me, Mamm. You’ve never said these things before.”
“And you’ve never wed before, Ida.” Mamm gave her a direct look. “You don’t know how to take care of yourself. You’ve suffered greatly already, but that doesn’t mean you should expect life to only contain pain for you. Make time for you and Ben alone. Even if it means sitting up later to talk after the children are in bed. Life can take that away from you, Ida. And it happens easiest for women like you. You need Ben’s love, so don’t ever be afraid to ask for it, especially when the times get rough.”
“Mamm!” Ida felt heat rise on her neck.
Mamm smiled. “I’m afraid the time for blushing is past, Ida. You’ll be a wedded woman by tonight. You’re getting a gut husband, but you’re not his first frau. He’ll have to learn many things over again. You must tell him what’s on your mind. Tell him what love means to you.”
Ida’s face turned even redder. She hid her face in her hands.
Mamm’s voice was insistent. “You must listen, Ida. I know what I speak of.”
“Ben’s been fine about all this, Mamm,” Ida protested.
Mamm gave her another look. “It’s not Ben I’m worried about. It’s you, Ida.”
“I’ll try, Mamm,” Ida said. She really had no idea what Mamm was talking about, but she would remember the words for some future time—when and if they were needed. Perhaps there would come a day when the hours were dark and the work of the house too much for her. It would be a relief then to sit down with Ben after everything was quiet and soak in his presence.
Ida got to her feet. “Well, I must get busy.”
“Get busy?” Mamm glared at her. “Where are you going?”
“Out to the barn. There’s choring to do.”
Mamm got to her feet. “Nee, Ida. It’s your wedding day. You’ll do no such thing.”
Ida allowed a smile to creep across her face. “I want to, Mamm. I want to say goodbye to my life as a single girl. I’ll be in before long. A few minutes alone in the barn is what I need right now.”
Mamm hesitated but soon nodded. “You don’t forget what I said now.”
“I won’t,” Ida promised. She slipped into her winter coat and boots in the washroom, lit the gas lantern, and found her way outside. Ida hurried across the lawn and pushed open the barn door. The stillness enveloped her as she hung the lantern on a beam in the barn ceiling. Emery and Daett would be out soon, but for now she was alone. Ida walked around and stroked the noses of the draft horses as they stomped in their stalls. She peeked out the back door to where the cows had begun to stir. Several of them noticed her and mooed.
This was a part of her world, and she must not forget it. Whatever Da Hah’s plans were for her married life—work, joy, trouble, heartache, loss, and perhaps even kinner of their own—she must return at times to this part of her childhood that would always have a special place in her heart.
A lantern bobbed outside. Recognizing the footsteps, Ida turned to greet Emery with a cheery “Gut morning.”
“What are you doing out here?” he asked with a smile.
“Saying goodbye.” She wiped her eyes quickly.
He made a pretend frown. “Don’t go crying on me now, Ida.” He smiled. “I do wish you the best.”
Ida reached out and squeezed his arm. “Thanks, Emery. You’ve been a kind brother to live with. I hope you find a gut frau for your own wedding day.”
Emery didn’t comment, but he kept smiling as he went to open the barn door for the cows.
&n
bsp; Ida lowered her head and hurried out of the barn and across the lawn to the house.
Thirty-Two
Debbie stepped back from the front window to hide behind the curtains as Paul Wagler’s buggy turned in the driveway. Minister Kanagy had arrived moments earlier and was in whispered conversation with Ida in the kitchen. The rest of the wedding party was due anytime now. Minister Kanagy’s brother Phillip and a friend of the Kanagy family named Carrie would be the witnesses for his side of the family.
Obviously the Amish didn’t worry if the couple saw each other before the ceremony like Englisha do, Debbie thought. They were much too practical for that. Long before the first guests arrived, the couple would be hidden out in the upper levels of the barn, where the meal would be served. From there they’d make the trek back to the house when it was time for the service to begin. Debbie would be seated on one side of Ida with Carrie on the other. Right up on the front row where everyone could see them. Debbie steadied herself. This wouldn’t be too bad. She’d been through much the same thing at the baptismal service. And if she got nervous, she’d remind herself that Ida was the one everyone would be looking at.
Debbie peeked out the window to see Paul’s buggy come to a stop. His eldest sister, Esther, jumped down. She proceeded to unhitch the horse. So far there was no sign of Paul. He must be waiting in the buggy, the poor man. He probably hasn’t recovered completely from his injury, Debbie thought. Why then had Paul consented to this? Would he take the chance to tease and flatter her again? She didn’t imagine that a man in his state would be up to that kind of behavior. Yet one never knew with Paul Wagler.
And that raised the question of why Debbie had consented to sit as Ida’s witness today with Paul. The answer was complicated, inspired by her roiling emotions since Sunday and Emery’s earlier encouragement. Like Emery said, this didn’t really matter in the larger scheme of things. And if it made Ida happy and helped a fellow community member, even if it was Paul, why not? Emery seemed to approve of the gesture. That meant a lot—more than she wished, in fact.
Finding Love at Home (The Beiler Sisters) Page 21