Plain Peace

by Beth Wiseman

  But today he was trying to focus on something happier—on Anna. She’d let him talk about Leah and listened with compassion instead of trying to pretend nothing had happened the way Carolyn had. Jacob needed someone to talk to, a friend. And it didn’t hurt that Anna was the prettiest girl he’d ever met. He was looking forward to getting to know her better.

  Mary Jane slowed the buggy in front of Lindemann’s Lumberyard.

  “I’ll see you at three.” Jacob stepped out of the buggy. “Sorry you keep having to bring me and pick me up, but otherwise you all would be stuck without a buggy all day.”

  “It’s okay. I know you’re trying to save money for your own buggy. And you can’t really walk to your job the way Eli can.”

  Jacob waved as he crossed in front of the buggy. He wished Mary Jane and Anna Mae would get jobs, even if just part-time, so they’d be around people and hopefully make some friends. Back in Middlefield they’d been very social, but they didn’t seem to have an interest in much of anything these days. What was it going to take for them all to move on?

  He pulled the door open and glanced at the clock on the wall. Five minutes early.

  “Good morning, Jacob.” Glenda Myers was the Yankee—no, Englisch—girl who ran the cash register in the front of the store. She was about his age, and she made him uncomfortable. Her blouses were always low cut, her jeans a size too small, and there was something seductive about her eyes, maybe the way she wore her makeup. She’d asked him to lunch twice, and both times he’d come up with an excuse not to go. Mamm always sent him to work with a lunch anyway.

  He gave a quick wave in her direction, forcing a smile, then headed to aisle four to take up where he’d left off the day before—unpacking and stocking a shipment of nails. It was easy work and kept his mind occupied.

  Anna was in the kitchen pulling two loaves of bread from the oven when her grandmother entered the room.

  “I’ve got three batches of snickerdoodles and three pans of peanut blossoms cooling on the rack, and everything else is already packed to take to the market and the bakeries.” Anna took off her oven mitts, placed them on the counter, and turned to face her grandmother. “Mammi, I need you to convince Daadi to let me go out with Jacob on Saturday. He’s the first person brave enough to face Daadi, and I really like him.”

  Her grandmother poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down in a kitchen chair. “I tried, mei maedel. But Jacob didn’t take you where he said he would, and that didn’t sit well with your grandfather.”

  Anna pulled out the chair across from Mammi and sat down. “But there was a gut reason. Jacob’s bruder cut himself on a piece of glass. His mamm was desperate for some help, and their daed wasn’t anywhere around.” Anna shook her head as she recalled the details Jacob had shared with her. “Their schweschder was killed, Mammi. She fell off the plow, hit her head on the corner of it, and died in front of all of them. The whole family is grieving, needless to say. That’s why they left Middlefield to start over. But Jacob said his father blames himself and that he stays upstairs or is gone when he’s not in the fields or the barn.”

  Mammi kept her head down as she spoke. “Ach, that’s terrible. I feel for all of them.” She looked up, her eyes soft. “I understand their pain. I really do.”

  “I know you do. And I know Daadi does too. Please talk to him, Mammi. Tell him what happened, and convince him to let me go on Saturday. Jacob did the responsible thing. He’s a gut person.” She paused, biting her bottom lip. “Please, Mammi.”

  “I will try, dear.” Mammi let out a heavy sigh. “But your grandfather won’t like to hear that the boy has a cell phone. And that his mudder does too.”

  “Maybe just don’t mention that part.” Anna realized that she was getting more and more like her grandmother by hiding things from Daadi. It wasn’t right, and she knew it. God had chosen her grandfather for this role. But that left her questioning His will. Why would the Lord put someone in charge of their district who refused to consider the members’ feelings, who just did whatever he wanted, no matter how unreasonable? And her grandfather would hold the position until he died. Anna loved Daadi, and she hoped he would be with them for a long time, but what would it take to get him to ease up?

  She knew he kept a list of violations. She’d seen it the other day on the kitchen table. The Huyards were using a gas lawn mower instead of the accepted push mower. Rumor had it that the Rabers had a deep freeze in their mudroom and were running a long extension cord from the Englisch neighbors’ house instead of storing their meat in rented lockers like others in their district. Leroy Glick had been seen using a skid loader to scoop manure, something that used to be common until her grandfather became bishop. And Mary King was letting her daughters wear light-colored dresses, pink and other pastels. Anna knew they’d all be getting a visit.

  Marianne’s heart hurt for Cora Hostetler. She’d met the woman briefly at worship service but had no idea they’d lost a child.

  “I think I’ll pay Cora a visit. I’ll take her some snickerdoodles too.” Marianne stood up from the kitchen chair, slowly straightening her stiff back. “And I’ll try to talk to your daadi tonight, Anna, but no guarantees.”

  “Danki.” Anna threw her arms around Marianne’s neck. Marianne had never seen the girl so interested in a boy before. Maybe no one had been worth fighting for until now.

  “Like I said, no guarantees.” She smiled. “Do you want the topless buggy or the other one?”

  “It’s hot and sunny. If you want me to take the open buggy, that’s fine with me. I know your face burns easily.” Anna walked to the counter and packed some of the cookies into a Tupperware container. “Here. These are for the Hostetlers.” She set the sealed container on the table, then loaded up the rest of the cookies and six loaves of bread. “I’m going.”

  Marianne kept her seat for a while, drumming her fingers as she thought about her visit to see Cora. Then she went to her bedroom, reached between the mattresses, and found her new cell phone. Anna had said that Cora had a phone. Depending on how the visit went, maybe Cora would show Marianne what she was doing wrong. As she slipped into her black leather shoes, she wondered if Cora could be trusted. Would she tell someone that the bishop’s own wife was in violation of his rules?

  She looked down at the device and thought about how much simpler life would be if she was able to buy her favorite hand cream online using her phone. And what about the pink sweater she’d been eyeing? She stuffed the phone in her apron pocket, picked up the snickerdoodles, and walked outside. Anna had already gotten her horse and buggy ready, so she was quickly on her way.

  She both anticipated and dreaded the visit. As much as she sympathized with Cora, their chat was bound to open up old wounds. There was nothing she could say to Cora that would ease her pain. But she was going to try, just the same.

  And if she could get her cell phone working, that would be a bonus.

  Cora was enjoying some quiet time—a rarity in her busy household. Anna Mae and Mary Jane had taken Abe with them to town. Eli was working at Widow Kauffman’s farm. John was in the fields, and Jacob was at work.

  She eased her feet up on the coffee table and picked up a gardening magazine she’d gotten in town, hoping it would inspire her to get to work on her flowerbeds. She’d only flipped through a few pages when she heard a buggy coming up the driveway. She should have known the quiet time wouldn’t last, but who could be visiting? She hadn’t really reached out to anyone in the community. Peering out the window in the living room, she saw a tiny gray-haired woman easing herself out of the buggy. Cora walked to the door and waited on the other side of the screen as the woman tethered the horse, then walked up the porch steps.

  “Wie bischt? I’m Marianne Byler. I wanted to come welcome you to Paradise.”

  Cora had seen the woman at worship service. Marianne had a warm, kind smile. But she was the bishop’s wife. And Cora had heard about Bishop Byler’s strict ways just through casual conversations
following worship service. He wasn’t very well liked, and Cora instantly wondered if Marianne was here to spy on her. Cora wished they had taken the time to research the bishop here before they’d moved. The last thing they needed was trouble of any kind. But she pushed the door open and stepped aside so Marianne could enter.

  “I’m Cora Hostetler. Danki for coming.” She motioned Marianne into the living room and watched as Marianne’s eyes scanned the room. Cora was sure it was much too fancy for her—or her husband’s—taste. Cora had two landscape pictures on the wall along with a decorative calendar. The mantel held several ballerina figurines, gifts from a Yankee friend who knew Cora had read a book about the dancers as a child and been fascinated by them. And if Marianne wanted a tour of the rest of the house, Cora was in trouble. With three children in their rumschpringe, there was no telling what they all had in their rooms. She’d spotted earplugs and all kinds of electrical devices while cleaning.

  “These are for you, dear.” Marianne handed her a container. “Snickerdoodles. We’re famous for them around here. We sell them to all the bakeries.” She grinned. “Secret family recipe.”

  “Danki. Please sit down. Can I get you some kaffi or tea?” Cora sat down on the couch after Marianne chose one of their blue recliners.

  “Nee.” Marianne waved a hand in the air. “I’m fine.” She took a long look around the living room. “You have a lovely home.”

  Cora smiled tentatively as she waited for Marianne to tell her that it was too decorative, but instead Marianne started to tell her about the local Sisters’ Day.

  “Our next one is July tenth, and it will be held at Mary Ellen Huyard’s haus. I hope you’ll be able to come so you can get to know the other ladies. It’s hard to do so at worship service. So much preparation and cleanup.” Marianne fumbled in her apron pocket, and Cora waited for her to pull something out, but she didn’t.

  “I hope to attend.” Cora knew she wouldn’t go. The thought of putting on a happy face for several hours when she didn’t have to sounded awful. This conversation with Marianne was hard enough.

  Marianne frowned and folded her hands in her lap. “Our Anna tells us that you lost a child recently.”

  Cora blinked, surprised at how Marianne just blurted it out. “Uh, ya. We did. Our dochder, Leah. She was twenty.” She swallowed hard. “We miss her very much.”

  “I know. We are raising our granddaughter because her daed and mamm—our sohn and his fraa—were killed in a car accident.”

  Cora brought a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry.” She’d never thought to ask where Anna’s parents were. “How long ago?”

  “Fifteen years. They were traveling to Lancaster, and their driver apparently fell asleep. They veered into traffic coming the other way. It killed all three of them.” Marianne’s bottom lip trembled for a moment, but she blinked a few times, then smiled again. “It does get better, my dear. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but time lessens the hurt.”

  “Danki.” Cora forced a smile as she thought about Leah, the problems with Eli, and the way her husband had abandoned them all emotionally. She’d love to have a friend to confide in, but she reminded herself that this woman, however kind, was the bishop’s wife. “We are all healing as best we can.”

  “That’s not what I hear.” Marianne crossed one leg over the other and raised her chin. “Anna said there was a problem a few days ago—something with one of your boys. Is everything all right now?”

  “Ach, ya.” Cora should have known that Jacob’s date would say something. Couldn’t her oldest son have chosen someone to go out with who wasn’t the bishop’s granddaughter? “Everything is fine.” Her heart was beating hard in her chest. She’d have to ask the Lord’s forgiveness for lying, but it wasn’t safe to confide in this woman. “We had an incident with one of our younger sohns, but all is gut now.” Her muscles strained from forcing herself to look happy.

  Marianne stared at her long and hard, tapping a finger to her chin. Cora assumed she would go back to her husband and tell him about their fancy house and what a mess their family was. They’d left Middlefield to escape the memories and the pitying looks everyone gave them, but she supposed they’d just brought their problems with them. Her own husband was proof of that. Marianne started fumbling with something in her apron pocket again, and Cora was shocked when the older woman pulled out a slim cell phone.

  “Do you know how to work one of these?” Marianne frowned. “It’s an iPhone. I had a friend show me how to use it, but now I can’t remember what she showed me.”

  Cora felt her brows lifting high above wide eyes. She blinked a few times and tried to mask her shock.

  “I don’t know.” It was a much fancier phone than anyone in her family had. “I’ll, uh, have a look if you’d like.”

  “Ach, ya, ya.” Marianne was quickly on her feet and sat down beside Cora. In a whisper, she said, “I’m not supposed to have this.”

  Cora pressed her lips together and tried not to smile—a genuine smile this time—then said, “I won’t tell.”

  Marianne patted her on the leg but didn’t say anything. Her eyes were fixed on the phone. “Can you make the Internet work? I managed to get it to turn on.” She shook her head, frowning. “But I can’t remember what to do from there. I should have taken some notes.”

  Cora took the phone and looked at its sleek face. Her mobile phone didn’t look anything like this fancy one. She studied the phone for a while and touched a few of the little squares on the screen. “This is it, I think,” she finally said. “The one that says ‘Safari.’ You push that button to get to the Internet.”

  Marianne leaned much closer and squinted. “I forgot my reading glasses. But I see.” She looked up and smiled. “Guess I didn’t try that. Danki.”

  Cora nodded and took a deep breath. “So why do you have a phone if it’s not allowed? I mean, your husband . . .” Cora shrugged, unsure how to say it.

  “Do you tell your husband every little thing?” Marianne didn’t look up. She was busy fiddling with the phone.

  “I suppose not,” Cora finally said. I haven’t had much conversation with him at all since we moved here.

  “Do you know much about this Internet place?” Marianne put the phone down, and her eyes twinkled with excitement.

  “I’ve heard of it. We have three kinner in their rumschpringe.” Cora wasn’t about to tell Marianne that she’d even used the library computers back in Middlefield. Several times. The first time had been to research a rash Abe had on his arm. But then she’d learned from the librarian that she could e-mail her cousin in Iowa by using the Internet. She hadn’t been guilty of using a computer since she’d moved to Paradise, but . . .

  Marianne frowned, then handed the phone to Cora. “I’ve lost my place again. One wrong move with this silly device and it gets a mind of its own.”

  Cora shrugged, keeping her eyes on the phone. “I don’t know about this kind of phone.” She touched the phone in several places. “But if you slide along this arrow, it seems to take you back to all the buttons. Then we just have to find the one that says ‘Safari’ again.”

  Marianne let out a heavy sigh. “I knew this would be too gut to be true. It’s gonna take me a month of Sundays to figure this out.”

  Cora fumbled with the phone for a few more minutes while Marianne continued to sigh. Finally, Cora touched a place on the phone that pulled up a familiar-looking screen. She handed the phone to Marianne. “Here’s the Internet.”

  Marianne leaned close to the phone, clapped her hands together like a small child, then latched onto the device. “Ach. Gut.” She smiled at Cora. “Danki.”

  Cora spent the next hour with Marianne. Together they learned how to maneuver around the Internet on the phone. Then they discovered Amazon.com. “I think you can buy cows on the Internet,” Marianne marveled.

  Cora chuckled, something she hadn’t done in ages. “I don’t know about that, Marianne.” Cora glanced up at her ballerina figuri
nes on the mantel. How she’d love to have another one. There was also a new piece of Tupperware she’d been eyeing since before they’d moved from Middlefield. A neighbor had purchased it at a bridal Tupperware party—a hand-cranked device that was said to be faster than an electric or battery-operated mixer.

  Cora suddenly realized she hadn’t thought about Leah or the problems with John the whole time that she and Marianne were playing with the phone. What a wonderful distraction this lovely woman was. Her warm smile, gentle ways, and childlike enthusiasm brought a welcome breath of fresh air to Cora’s household. And apparently she wasn’t above keeping a few things from her husband.

  Cora ran a finger down her cheek, a tinge of mischief building inside her. She’d spent months trying to be everything for everyone in her family, trying desperately to inject some sort of happiness into their lives, even though her own heart was far from mended. A wild thought seized her. “Do you think the Internet has books about ballerinas?”

  Marianne smiled as she handed Cora the phone. “I think it has just about anything.”

  Cora still wasn’t sure about purchasing cows. But as she took the phone from Marianne and began searching for “ballerinas,” she felt lighter than she’d been in ages.

  It was a guilty pleasure, true. But it was still pleasure.

  7

  FRIDAY AFTERNOON ANNA TOOK A DETOUR FROM HER bakery deliveries and tethered her buggy in front of the lumberyard where Jacob worked. Anna knew her grandfather had made purchases from the local establishment, but Anna had never been inside. A bell chimed when she walked in, and she breathed in the aroma of freshly cut wood. A young Englisch woman sat behind a counter to her left.