A Simple Wish

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Nora stepped over and wrapped her arms around Loretta. “I understand perfectly, even though some of what you’re wanting goes against Amish tradition,” she replied. “But you’ve done the responsible thing—you’ve joined the church and committed your life to following God’s plan—so jah, allow yourself time to figure out what His plan for you is, sweetie.”

  Loretta hugged her tightly. “I am so glad you’re my friend, Nora. I can’t tell Dat any of this stuff—and he’ll be furious that I’ve come to work for you after he’s told me I couldn’t,” she admitted. “But I want to give it a shot. Plenty of time to follow the rules after I’m an old married lady, jah?”

  Nora laughed, steering Loretta toward her office in the back of the shop. “Jah, we girls all figure we’ll settle down when we’re old—just as we tell ourselves we’ll never be old,” she agreed. “Let’s talk about your new job while we enjoy some lemonade with a couple of Lena Witmer’s cute cookies. She’s another one who stumbled and fell a few times before she found the life God intended for her and Josiah to share. And now the Grill N Skillet he runs with his sister Savilla is hugely successful.”

  They paused at the checkout counter, where a large, flat basket of decorated sugar cookies tempted customers. “I’ve sampled more than my share of Lena’s cookies, and they’re awesome,” Loretta said as she studied them. She snatched up a colorful butterfly, as well as a flower-shaped cookie with a smiley face in its center. “Here I am—as happy as this flower and as light and free as this butterfly!”

  Nora smiled. Help Loretta grow into her freedom and remain as sweet and fresh—and unbroken—as these cookies, Lord. She’s got it bad, so You and I need to watch out for her.

  Chapter Three

  Later that afternoon—much later than she’d figured on—Loretta hurried into the kitchen through the back door. Her sister Rosalyn looked up from dredging chicken pieces in flour and arranging them in a skillet that bubbled and crackled with hot oil. “Where’ve you been, missy?” she asked softly. “Dat just got home. He’s in a dither because you weren’t here, and supper wasn’t ready, and all manner of other things he found to grouse about.”

  Loretta let out an exasperated sigh, sorry she’d left her sister to deal with Dat’s nasty mood. “Nora hired me!” she explained as she washed her hands at the sink. “And we talked about holding a class for ladies who want to learn how to make toothbrush rugs. I didn’t mean to stay so late, Rosalyn. I’m really sorry.”

  “Time flies when you’re having fun,” her sister quipped kindly. “I’m happy for you, Loretta—but I suggest you don’t bring this up at supper. Edith and Asa are coming over, which is one reason we’re running later than Dat prefers.” Rosalyn’s eyebrows rose playfully. “Hope it’s all right that I told them to bring Drew along.”

  Loretta sucked in her breath as she measured flour into a mixing bowl for biscuits. There was no time to change her dress, and she could only hope her hair was still tidily tucked up into her kapp. “Has Dat said anything about Drew and me going for that ride Saturday night?” she asked as she went to the fridge.

  “No, but I certainly want to hear about it now, Loretta,” her father replied tersely from behind them. “Where have you been, young lady?”

  Loretta dropped the egg she’d gotten out and watched it spread wetly over the kitchen floor. How long had Dat been standing in the doorway, listening to their conversation? Remember what you told Nora? About how you weren’t going to cower in Dat’s shadow anymore?

  Bracing herself for whatever her father might say, Loretta plucked another egg from the bin in the refrigerator before carefully stepping over the one she’d dropped. It was a toss-up, which of his topics to address first, so she chose the one that seemed the least likely to further stir him up. “I took my finished rug over to Simple Gifts,” she replied. “Nora’s gotten in a lot of new items, so I was helping her arrange them while we talked. How was your trip to Kansas City, Dat?”

  “Don’t change the subject!” Dat’s chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it out and sat down at the table. “Why were you doing Nora’s work when you should’ve been here at home helping Rosalyn with supper?”

  Rosalyn shot her a sympathetic look. “We didn’t know what time you’d be home, Dat,” she pointed out, “so we didn’t want to start cooking the chicken until—”

  “Your sister is perfectly capable of answering, Rosalyn. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

  Loretta cringed, praying for patience as she cleaned up the egg. Had Dat already overheard her talking about working at Simple Gifts? Was he testing her? Years of experience had taught her that a direct answer was better than dancing around the issue—even though the answer would make her father even angrier than he already was.

  And why is that? Why would a trip to Kansas City to buy clock parts upset him?

  Loretta placed the sloppy egg in the pan where they collected scraps for the compost pile. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her father. “I was helping Nora because I’ve taken a job in her store,” she said in the bravest voice she could manage. “I started this afternoon, matter of fact, and in a couple of weeks I’ll be teaching a class on—”

  “Loretta, I forbade you to work there, matter of fact,” Dat interrupted testily. “Tomorrow when Nora opens the store, you’ll be going over to apologize for acting rashly today and to tell her you’ll be making your rugs from home, as you and I agreed upon earlier.”

  Her knees shook beneath her calf-length dress. A knot clogged her throat, and for a moment Loretta wondered if she’d choke on it. But if she was to become independent, she couldn’t knuckle under every time Dat told her what to do. “No, Dat,” she said nervously, “tomorrow—on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays—I’m working for Nora. I’m doing this so I can buy dress fabric, shoes, and—and other things I need, because you’ve told us money is tight.”

  Dat’s face turned redder. “You know full well that the Bible commands you to honor your father and your mother,” he stated so softly she could barely hear him. “If you continue to defy me—”

  “Gut evening!” Edith called out as she came through the front room carrying a foil-covered casserole. “Asa was hungry for mac and cheese, so that’s what I’ve brought. How is everybody?”

  Loretta gazed gratefully at her younger sister, whose expression told her Edith had overheard the difficult conversation she and Dat were having. “We’re glad you brought a big pan of your mac and cheese, Edith,” she replied. “Those two fellows behind you can really tuck that stuff away.”

  “And Edith’s homemade version is so much better than the boxed kind Drew and I subsisted on as bachelors,” Asa chimed in. He smiled down at the twins in their baskets, which he set on the nearest countertop. “Won’t be long until these two are devouring their mamm’s mac and cheese, the way they’re growing.”

  “How are you, Cornelius?” Drew asked as he entered the kitchen behind the others. He set a large tossed salad on the table. “Saw you heading off with a driver about the time I was shaving this morning. Gut trip, I hope?”

  Loretta nipped her lip. Was Dat scowling at the casual way Drew had spoken to him—or had his trip been troublesome? It seemed that on some days, there were no right words to say and no best way to say them because her father took offense at every little thing.

  Dat’s eyes narrowed as he gazed up at Drew. “A little bird told me you took Loretta out for a ride on Saturday. Don’t think for one minute that you’re going to pull any more stunts like you did the day Edith and Asa were originally to get married. I will never forget that you fed Asa sleeping pills and tried to marry my daughter in his place.”

  Drew, looking perfectly composed, pulled out the chair to Dat’s right and sat down. “That’s all behind me now, Cornelius,” he replied. “Associating with your family has cured me of any inclination to stray from salvation’s path.”

  “Don’t you dare mock me—or the faith that saves us,” Dat mutter
ed.

  Drew looked him in the eye. “I wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” he said softly. “If it weren’t for your family’s compassion and forgiveness, I’d still be living a lie. Denki again for giving me a chance to start fresh in Willow Ridge.”

  Loretta’s heart thudded proudly. Drew sounded sincerely repentant of his former ways, yet he wasn’t kowtowing to Dat’s unpleasant mood. While Asa recounted the sales he and Drew had made from their new furniture-refurbishing shop today, she quickly stirred up a batch of biscuits, rolled and cut them, and slid them into the oven. Rosalyn was placing the lid on the cast-iron skillet of frying chicken while Edith set plates on the table. For a few precious moments, Loretta could catch her breath. As she cooed at the babies, she hoped her date with Drew and her new job at Nora’s wouldn’t again become heated topics.

  Dat, however, was like a dog gnawing a bone when his questions went unanswered. As Rosalyn positioned the platter of fragrant fried chicken on the table next to Edith’s casserole, everyone took a seat—leaving Mamm’s chair at Dat’s left empty, as they had since she’d passed. They bowed their heads in anticipation of their silent grace, but Dat ignored them. “Loretta, before we can give thanks, I must have your assurance that you’ll not be working at Nora’s store,” he said in the rolling voice with which he read the Scriptures at church.

  Loretta’s breath escaped in a frustrated rush, and her cheeks burned. How dare her father postpone their prayer until she gave in to him! As several long moments of tense silence filled the hot kitchen, she kept her head bowed and her eyes closed tightly, pleading with God for a response that would satisfy both her dat and her needs.

  “Heavenly Father, we thank You for the family gathered at this table, for the food You’ve provided us, and for all of Your gut and perfect gifts,” one of the Detweiler brothers prayed aloud. “We ask it in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  Loretta nearly choked when she caught Drew’s cat-like smile from across the table. He’d dared to say the blessing, trying to get her off the hook, and she was grateful beyond words. When the acrid aroma of burning food reached her, however, she sprang from her chair to rescue the biscuits. Rosalyn rose to wave a towel and dispel the smoke in a room overheated by the oven and the August humidity—and by Dat’s foul mood.

  But there was no saving the biscuits. Loretta blinked back tears as she lifted them with a spatula and saw that every last one of them was burned on the bottom. If only she hadn’t been so distracted by Dat’s angry words. If only she’d paid closer attention to the time this afternoon.

  “Haste makes waste,” her father remarked as Loretta brought the basket of biscuits to the table. “If you’d been home instead of working at Nora’s, you wouldn’t have had to rush with supper. Your mother, bless her soul, never burned a biscuit or ruined a meal in her entire married life.”

  Edith and Rosalyn’s eyebrows rose, for they recalled a time or two when meals hadn’t been as picture-perfect as Dat was describing. But they said nothing as they began passing the food.

  “Cornelius, has it been a rough day?” Asa asked gently. “You seem . . . agitated.”

  Dat glared at him, but before he could reply, Drew spoke up.

  “I’ll have three of those biscuits, please,” he remarked as he accepted the basket from his brother. “Truth be told, when our mamm lost track of what was in the oven, we boys ate every bite. After you cut off the bottoms, butter and jelly go a long way toward fixing scorched biscuits—but I suspect it’ll take more than that to cure whatever’s ailing you, Cornelius. Confession’s gut for the soul, you know.”

  Loretta appreciated the way the young men across the table were trying to help her out of this difficult spot, but she suddenly felt like a boiling teakettle about to whistle with its buildup of steam. Slapping the table, she stood up, despite the tears that were running down her hot cheeks. “It’s been five years, Dat,” she blurted in a quavering voice. “For five long years we’ve all been missing Mamm something awful—and you know full well that we girls will never take her place. When will you move beyond your grief so the rest of us can as well?” she demanded as she held his startled gaze. “I wish—I just wish we could all live in a happy, peaceful home again. Is that too much to ask?”

  The stunned silence nearly swallowed her. Somehow, Loretta’s knees didn’t buckle, nor did a bolt of lightning strike her down, for speaking in such a tone to her father. It was such a simple wish, yet it was one she feared would never come true. The grandfather clock in the front room struck six. The twins squirmed in their baskets, but otherwise nobody moved or said anything.

  Finally Rosalyn stood up, slipping her arm around Loretta’s shoulders. “Amen, sister,” she murmured. “I am so tired of the way your grief and depression fill this house like storm clouds, Dat. And—and I wish you’d get some help for it,” she added sadly. “We’re really worried about you.”

  Across the table, Edith stood up with them. “Truth be told, Mamm would be appalled at the constant tension and unhappiness here, which squeeze out any chance for growth or a fresh start,” she murmured. “Maybe, Dat, you should consider the possibility that Loretta wants to work at Nora’s store to spend time with folks who have a more positive frame of mind. I was hoping we could leave your grief behind in Roseville so you’d have a chance to feel better, but that didn’t happen.”

  “It’s your decision, Cornelius,” Asa put in gently. “If you don’t find a doctor or a counselor who can help you, I suspect you’ll become even more depressed—and you’ll drive your family away in the process.”

  Dat rose from his chair so suddenly that it clattered backward against the floor. “Feel free to leave anytime,” he snapped as he glared at each of them. “Don’t let the doorknob hit you in the butt.”

  The babies began to wail, startled by the chair’s noise and Dat’s loud voice. As their father left the table and clomped down the basement steps to his workroom, Asa rose to comfort the twins. Loretta glanced nervously at her sisters. “Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

  “You said what Edith and I have been thinking for years,” Rosalyn assured her. “There’s just no living with that man, tiptoeing on eggshells all the time.”

  “In the short time I’ve been across the road, I’ve begun to feel so much more relaxed,” Edith said, taking Leroy from her husband. “Guess I didn’t realize how unbearable Dat’s moods had become until I got away from them.”

  “You girls are welcome to stay at our place anytime you need a break,” Asa added, swaying from side to side with Louisa. “I suspect that with Edith gone, you two are shouldering even more of his frustration and—”

  “Sarcasm,” Drew put in matter-of-factly. “And let’s not leave out manipulation and intimidation. I’m sorry you have to live in a state of constant confrontation—and I intend to do all I can to stop it.”

  Loretta’s pulse pounded in her temples. Did Drew have any idea what he was letting himself in for, trying to alter Dat’s personality? She gave him the brightest smile she could manage, and after the babies were quiet again, the five of them sat down to eat. It was a meal she wasn’t hungry for anymore, but she ate a piece of chicken and some of Edith’s mac and cheese, grateful for the comfort food her sisters had prepared—and somewhat amazed that Asa and Drew were devouring their third biscuits.

  “You fellows don’t have to eat those just to make me feel better,” she said softly.

  The two brothers, so exactly alike in appearance, looked up at the same moment, wearing the same expression. “That’s not the way it is,” Asa insisted as he spooned apple butter on the buttered biscuit on his plate.

  “I never eat anything to make somebody else feel better,” Drew teased with a shake of his head. “When it comes to food, it’s all about me and what I want, Loretta. But I do want you to feel better, sugar.”

  Loretta’s heart thudded hopefully. Sugar, he’d called her, as he had the other night—it sounded especially exotic because he pronounced it shugah. Once she cut off
the burned bottom of a biscuit and slathered butter and strawberry jam on it, she discovered that the Detweiler brothers had it right: the biscuits had risen high and light, so there was still plenty about them to enjoy. “Seems Dat was wrong,” she whispered as a giggle escaped her. “Imagine that!”

  Rosalyn and Edith looked at her and began to chuckle as well. “He’s missing out on a yummy supper,” Edith remarked. “And just so you sisters know, Drew made the salad on his own, without anybody suggesting he bring something.”

  “It’s crisp and fresh,” Rosalyn said as she took another helping of the greens. “I don’t even care that you slipped over to our garden for your ingredients, Drew. You’re welcome to anything you find there.”

  “Uh-oh, I’ve been caught,” Drew replied with a mischievous grin. He held Loretta’s gaze. “How about if you and I pick all those green beans out there after we’re finished eating? Since you ladies’ll be firing up the canners and filling jars soon, helping you pick them is the least I can do . . . because truth be told, I’ve helped myself to your garden before.”

  “You’re on,” Loretta replied happily.

  “You two are excused from kitchen cleanup,” Rosalyn declared.

  “We should have a snapping frolic,” Edith suggested. “Asa, if you help with the picking, it’ll go faster—and then the five of us can sit on the porch and snap them. I’ll be over to help you girls can them tomorrow, or whenever you’re ready.”

  Asa nodded, looking at his brother. “We’re pickers from way back, because Mamm didn’t have girls to help her with the garden. Used to have races to see who could fill his basket the fastest.”

  “Last one out there’s a rotten egg,” Drew challenged as he rose from his chair. “I’m guessing your baskets are in the—”