A Simple Vow

by Charlotte Hubbard

  With a shrug, Edith sipped her tea. She broke off a wing of her butterfly cookie, but left it on the plate. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Nora thought hard as she bit into her cookie. Was Edith still despondent about the twins’ being taken away? Or was there a lot more to the situation between the Detweiler brothers than Nora had heard? “Have your feelings for Asa changed now that you’ve met his brother? Even though your relationship with him came on fast and furious, I thought the two of you would make a gut, steady couple—and strong parents for the twins.”

  “But with the babies gone . . . I just don’t know,” Edith murmured. “It seemed God—and Will—were answering my prayers by providing the children I couldn’t have. As I think about that big house with just Asa and me rattling around in it like two peas in a shoebox, I’m not sure my days would have meaning. And it wouldn’t be fair to Asa if I married him, because he loves children as much as I do.”

  “You might be surprised at how much joy and love you and Asa could discover if you have time together, just the two of you. Luke and I certainly have,” Nora insisted with a smile. “And then you can find other babies to—”

  “But I love Louisa and Leroy!” Edith blurted. “I’m so worried that the Ropps won’t get them the goat milk they need, and that those poor little babies will never feel truly loved. It was easy to see that Ruth and Orva weren’t comfortable with them,” she went on in a rush. “They took the twins out of a sense of duty, because they didn’t approve of the man who fathered them.

  “And the whole scenario got even more twisted because the twins’ mamm thought Asa was the father.”

  Nora was glad Edith had gotten these difficult issues off her chest, because she would find no healing, no peace, if she dwelled on the unfortunate details that had been revealed after her canceled wedding. The mug Nora was holding—and the cookie she bit into—gave her another conversational path to follow. “Children can make all the difference in a marriage—for better or for worse,” Nora began, tapping Edith’s plate with her fingertip. “For instance, the lady who makes this beautiful pottery? Amanda lost her first husband, and was raising her three girls when another attractive fellow came along—and Wyman had five kids. When they married, it seemed like a match that met everyone’s needs, until Amanda snapped. Ran away from home.”

  Edith’s doleful brown eyes widened. “Amanda left her girls—the whole raft of kids? I can’t think Wyman stood for that!”

  Nora smiled. She loved picking up pottery at Amanda Brubaker’s place because their home was always busy and bubbling over with the children’s activities—but Nora also knew she’d go crazy trying to mother eight children. “Wyman had expected Amanda to slip into his first wife’s place, in his previous home, so his life could go on as it had before,” she explained. “But that didn’t work for Amanda.”

  “I should think not. Raising eight kids is a lot different from caring for three of your own girls—and in a different house, no less,” Edith replied with a shake of her head. “That would take a huge adjustment, no matter how much you loved your husband.”

  “Jah, it would. Wyman eventually realized that he had to make some adjustments, too, so now the Brubakers are one big, happy family,” Nora remarked. She unwrapped a cookie shaped like a tropical fish, decorated in bright pink and yellow frosting. “And Lena, who makes these cookies in her home kitchen, came to Willow Ridge with Josiah Witmer last winter when she was carrying his child, but not married to him. She wanted to be a mother and a wife more than anything, but Josiah couldn’t commit to such responsibilities.”

  “Lena was in a tough spot, between an Amish rock and an Old Order hard place,” Edith quipped. She drained the tea from her mug and picked up the wing of her butterfly cookie. “And yet, from what I’ve seen of Lena and Josiah, they’re devoted to each other and to baby Isaiah.”

  “They are,” Nora agreed. She was pleased to see Edith perking up now that they were discussing other couples’ difficulties. “They have a nice home just outside of town, and they took over the restaurant business from Miriam Hooley—after the place burned down and was rebuilt—and now their marriage and their café are both a huge success. Their families are very happy about the way things have worked out for them, too.

  “But Lena’s parents originally believed that Josiah was bad news all around, and they wanted him out of their daughter’s life,” Nora continued, dunking her fish cookie into her tea. “Lena had to do some tough talking—had to let Josiah know exactly where she stood and what she wouldn’t stand for. Amanda did, too. They’d be miserable today if they hadn’t spoken up and told their men what they needed. What they couldn’t live without.”

  Edith bit into her cookie, closing her eyes. “Lena bakes a mighty fine cookie,” she murmured. “So, you’re telling me I need to speak my mind to Asa?”

  “It’s the only way he’ll know what you need, Edith. Men sometimes let on as though we’re to be seen and not heard—although Luke knows better than to expect that of me!” she replied with a laugh. “Most husbands truly want to make their wives happy. They just need to know how. They can’t read our minds . . . and they’re guys, after all. They never catch on to the emotional stuff as fast as we do.”

  Edith’s smile brightened her face. “Jah, you’ve got that part right,” she replied. “My sisters and I have given up on believing Dat will ever understand why we feel the way we do—about the twins, for instance. He took off for Kansas City again this morning, to buy clock parts. He seems to need a day away after he gets riled up.”

  How many clock parts could Cornelius possibly need? Nora wondered as she finished her cookie. Wouldn’t ordering them through the mail and getting them delivered be cheaper than hiring a driver? She kept these questions to herself, however, because Edith seemed to be coming out of her shell.

  “Asa impresses me as a fellow who shares a lot of your hopes and dreams, Edith,” Nora said. “By the time we left the house last Friday, after hearing Drew’s answers, I could tell Asa was worried about the impression his brother was making on you. If you love him, he needs to know you don’t blame him for what Drew did—and that you don’t believe he’ll allow Drew to interfere with your relationship anymore.”

  Nora observed the subtle changes in Edith’s expression. She was really listening, thinking about what she might say to Asa—and that was a step in the right direction.

  “I’ll keep you and Asa—and Drew—in my prayers, Edith,” Nora said softly. “It seems like such a little thing sometimes, praying for people. But I believe God listens.”

  Edith’s lips curved. “Sometimes having somebody listen makes all the difference,” she murmured. “Denki so much for being my friend, Nora, and for helping me through a rough spot.”

  Nora nodded. “Happy to help. Do you still want me to come fetch the baby things? If it would be less painful not to have them around—”

  “I think we’ll gather everything into the spare bedroom, at least for a while,” Edith replied in a pensive voice. “If we sisters pray for the twins, believing that God will find the best home for them to grow up in, maybe someday soon they’ll come back to Willow Ridge. If I think happy thoughts of Leroy and Louisa when I look at the playpen and the toys, that’ll be a lot better than crying—no matter how God answers us. I’m really tired of crying.”

  Nora squeezed Edith’s hand. “I bet if you share that idea with Asa, he’ll pray for Leroy and Louisa, too. It’s obvious he loves them and wants what’s best for them. So does Will.”

  “Jah, they do. That’s a fine idea.” As sunlight shone through the small office window, Edith smiled at it. “Look what you’ve done, Nora! You’ve chased away the rain and my gloomy thoughts, like this beam of heavenly sunshine.”

  A short while later, as Edith left for home, Nora returned to her bookkeeping with a smile on her face and a sense of satisfaction. She couldn’t take credit for the heavenly sunshine, but if she’d spread some cheer while lifting Edith’s
spirits, she’d done a good day’s work.

  * * *

  Asa sucked in air and bit back a curse word when he nicked his thumb with his carving knife. He immediately pressed the wound together between his other thumb and forefinger, but before he could resume his work on the headboard he was restoring, he had to stop the bleeding. Getting a bandage to stay on his thumb would be a challenge.

  “Cut myself,” he muttered to Drew as he headed for the door.

  His brother looked up from his sewing machine, nodded, and went back to stitching the pleats for the skirt of a couch he was reupholstering.

  Asa sighed as he hurried toward the house. Once upon a time, Drew would’ve at least expressed some concern or helped him find Band-Aids, but their communication had been as scarce as hen’s teeth since his twin’s revelations last week. It was Tuesday, four days since he’d learned of his brother’s duplicity. The silence in the shop was deafening. The evenings alone in the house while Drew remained in his apartment stretched into forever, as well.

  “Asa! Wait for me!”

  Thinking he was hearing imaginary voices, Asa turned to see Edith hurrying up the lane toward him, carrying a picnic basket. His heart did a cartwheel. For a few seconds he forgot about his wound and the blood that was seeping out of it. He drank in the sight of Edith’s lovely smile, daring to dream that she was coming back to him, forever.

  “Edith, it’s so gut to see you,” he murmured when she’d caught up to him. “I’m going to the house for a bandage—”

  “Oh, my! That’s a nasty cut.” She set down her basket and grabbed a napkin from inside it. When she’d wrapped the napkin tightly around the wound, she looked up at him. “We’d best get you into the house and clean up the cut before the paper sticks to it.”

  Asa gazed at her small, sturdy hands as they clasped his and felt better immediately. After a moment her words sank in, so he began to walk toward the house, keeping his strides short enough that she wouldn’t have to jog—and she wouldn’t have to let go of him. Lord, please, please don’t allow her to let go of me ever again, he prayed as they approached the house. “You—you left your basket—”

  “It’ll be all right. I thought you—and Drew—might share some lunch with me,” she replied as they stepped up onto the porch. She grabbed the doorknob and then stopped, gazing up at him. “Asa, these past few days have been impossibly quiet without you and the babies,” she confessed. “I can’t not talk to you anymore. We have to figure out how we feel and what comes next—but first, we’ll fix your thumb.”

  Asa nodded, willing to go along with whatever she said if it meant an end to the torture of wondering how Edith felt about him . . . and about getting married.

  “Stick your hand under cool running water,” she instructed as they entered the kitchen. “Where do you keep your first-aid stuff? Bandages and antiseptic.”

  “Upstairs bathroom,” Asa murmured. “But I’ll warn you. We bachelors don’t keep much of that stuff around.”

  The sound of Edith’s quick footsteps on the stairs soothed him. He stuck his thumb under the water, gingerly peeling away the paper napkin as he washed away the blood that had seeped all over his hand. Before he’d had time to assess the seriousness of his wound, Edith was beside him, setting down the box of Band-Aids, a roll of wound tape, and the ointment she’d found.

  “Doesn’t look like we’ll have to amputate,” she teased as she again took hold of his hand. “Might not hurt to have Andy look at this, though, in case it’s deep enough for stitches—”

  “It’s not that bad,” Asa protested as he reached for a towel. “Just an ordinary, everyday cut like guys in my profession get all the time. But thank you for caring,” he added gently.

  Edith flashed him a smile. “You men are all alike. It’s a wonder more of you don’t die from neglecting basic first aid and hygiene. Here—I’ll wrap it tight with this until the bleeding stops. I don’t see anything else to use.”

  Asa couldn’t believe it when she leaned closer to his hand and wrapped one of her long kapp strings tightly around his thumb. “But you’ll have a bloodstain on your—”

  “Just an ordinary, everyday fix for a problem we girls deal with all the time,” she quipped. “But thank you for caring.”

  You have no idea how much I care—how much I’ve missed your smiles and upbeat chatter. Asa didn’t say this out loud because he was savoring Edith’s earnest nursing . . . the warmth of her slender body as she stood close to him, holding his hand between hers.

  “We have to forgive Drew,” she said softly. It was a no-nonsense statement that brooked no argument, yet she wasn’t bossing him. “And we must pray for Leroy and Louisa, that they’ll find the home God intends for them, even . . . even if it won’t be here, with us.”

  Asa sighed and slipped his arm around her. It had cost Edith a great deal to say that, because she loved the twins even more than he did. She had also gotten right to the point of his recent feelings, because until he forgave his brother there would be no moving forward—in his business dealings or in the home life he wanted to share with this wonderful young woman. The silence between him and Drew felt as overwhelming as that proverbial invisible elephant folks talked about, occupying all the space and every moment they shared. There wouldn’t be enough room for Edith in his life—in this house—if that silent, enormous elephant continued to dwell here.

  “Jah, you’re right,” he finally admitted. “But I don’t know what to say.”

  Edith turned her face so she could look up at him as she kept her kapp string wrapped around his finger. “I know exactly how that feels. I figured you fellows are probably sick of cooking for yourselves, so lunch might be a gut way to get us all talking.”

  Asa’s body relaxed as a light, airy happiness seeped into places where he’d been feeling so tense and grouchy. “You’re a genius, Edith,” he whispered. “And you’re a blessing, too. Even if Drew doesn’t take the bait and start talking to us, I have plenty to say to you alone, girlie.”

  Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. She gently unwrapped her kapp string and studied the cut on his thumb. “If we put a big Band-Aid up and over your thumb, and then wrap some tape around and around it, I think it’ll stay on while you work. But you’ll need to change the bandage every day and keep it clean.”

  “Maybe you could be my nurse, Edith. It would mean I’d get to see you every day,” Asa murmured. “After the lonely weekend I’ve had, your company will be just what the doctor ordered.”

  Edith let out a short laugh. “Anything to avoid visiting Andy at the clinic, jah?”

  Asa laughed. Although she hadn’t known him for long, she knew him pretty well. When his thumb had been covered with a Band-Aid containing antiseptic ointment and then neatly wrapped with the tape, the two of them headed outside. He grabbed the handle of the picnic basket and motioned for Edith to precede him into the shop. “Somebody took pity and brought us lunch,” he called out.

  But the chair at Drew’s sewing machine was empty.

  Asa went to the foot of the apartment stairs. “Drew, Edith’s here with a picnic,” he called up toward the open door. “We’d like you to join us.”

  Silence. Then his brother said, “Nah, you two go ahead. I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Phooey on that!” Edith blurted as she joined Asa at the stairway. “We three are going to make our peace—over fried chicken and fresh rhubarb pie. If you really want to get on my bad side, stay right where you are. We’ll eat your pie.”

  Asa cleared a space on one of his worktables, wiping it with an old towel. Bless her, Edith had brought a jug of lemonade, warm chicken that filled the shop with its savory aroma, homemade rolls, slaw—and an entire pie. “What a feast,” he murmured as she placed three plates on the table and opened the packets of food. “You’re a saint, Edith. An angel come down to save me from myself.”

  With a glance toward the stairs, Edith shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs he’d set around
the table. “Let’s pray and eat. He’ll come downstairs, or he won’t.”

  Asa took hold of her hand and bowed his head. Denki Lord for blessing me with Edith’s company and her can-do attitude today. Heal what’s hurting inside Drew. Open our hearts to the forgiveness You would have us extend to each other.

  For a moment he gazed at Edith’s bowed head, her serene expression, as she prayed. Footsteps on the stairs made them both glance toward Drew, who looked at the table as though wondering if they were setting some sort of trap. He stood behind the empty chair for a moment, inhaling deeply. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. Sure beats PB and J sandwiches.”

  “Jah, those things can lay you low,” Asa blurted before he’d thought about it.

  A rueful smile flickered on his brother’s face as he sat down. “Not one of my better ideas, feeding you those sleeping pills, Asa,” he said in a voice they could barely hear.

  Edith passed Drew the plate of chicken. “We all do things we regret. But the real damage is done when we let those inner wounds fester, because they eventually poison us—not that I’m here to preach a sermon,” she added quickly. “I just thought you fellows might enjoy a meal somebody else cooked.”

  Drew took a dinner roll, sniffing its yeasty aroma as though he’d never experienced such a treat. “You’re being incredibly generous, Edith, considering the way I—I tricked you during the past several weeks and messed up your wedding. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

  Edith’s eyes shone like cups of tea brewed to triple strength. “I accept your apology, Drew. And I forgive you.”

  Asa marveled at her composure, her serenity. She made forgiveness look so easy, considering the way his twin brother had ripped her dreams to shreds on Friday. Even so, Asa preferred to wait out whatever his brother might say to him rather than echoing Edith’s simple goodwill. Drew had double-crossed him in several ways, after all.