Becoming Bea

by Leslie Gould

  Another twig snapped, but still no one answered. Below the babble of the creek seemed to grow louder and louder. I turned and hurried away from the grove, keeping the beam on the ground. Still I tripped over a rock but caught myself before I fell. When I reached the fence, I shone the flashlight down the property line. Past the shop was a tree. Perhaps Martin had gone there.

  A figure scurried to the other side of the tree. “Martin?”

  He popped his head out from behind the trunk.

  I exhaled as I shone the flashlight in his face. “What are you doing?”

  Instead of responding he turned his head up toward the branches of the tree. For a moment I thought he saw something up there and moved the light skyward, revealing the flaming orange and red leaves of the maple tree. The weeks of rain and warm temperatures had delayed the changing colors, but with the colder nights the leaves had finally turned.

  “Come on, Martin.” I turned the flashlight off. “All the food will be gone if you don’t hurry.”

  He crossed his arms. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Is this about Hope?”

  Again, he didn’t answer but shifted away from me.

  “Phillip told Bob he hadn’t talked with you.”

  “He didn’t need to,” Martin said. “It’s pretty clear what’s going on.”

  “What?” I didn’t intend for my voice to sound so shrill. I lowered it. “What’s going on?”

  “Hope is interested in Phillip. They talked forever last night. And seemed quite cozy.”

  “No.” I felt for Martin. “Hope cares about you—only you. She’s been looking for you all morning—peering out the kitchen window every few seconds, long after Phillip came into the house. She’s not interested in him.”

  Martin’s voice cracked as he said, “But he’s interested in her.”

  “I don’t think he is . . .” I stopped, not wanting to lie. I couldn’t figure out Phillip’s motivation. Was Phillip so distraught over his breakup with Jessie that he would be so foolish as to want to court his friend’s girl?

  “But why would Hope want to court me if she could court Phillip? He’s the bishop’s son. He’ll be ready to buy a farm soon. He’s tall and—”

  “Stop it,” I said. “You’re handsome.” Technically he wasn’t as good-looking as Phillip, but I found Martin much more attractive. “And a hard worker.”

  “I’ll never have my own farm, not with Mervin needing one too. He’ll be first in line for our place.”

  “Don’t say that. You have no idea what God will provide.” I grabbed his arm with my free hand. “You have to take it a day at a time.” I turned on the flashlight. “A step at a time. Toward the kitchen.” I tugged on him. He complied.

  We marched along in silence. When we neared the house, Hope was in the window. When she saw Martin she smiled.

  “See?” I jabbed him with my elbow.

  Still he hung back as I entered the house. “Come on.” I tugged on his sleeve. As he entered, Hope actually clapped her hands together. Never would I have done that. I couldn’t help but appreciate her honest enthusiasm, though. Nor could I help but steal a glance at Phillip, who had a frown on his face.

  Most of the boys had left, presumably for the shop, but Don, who sat beside his brother, looked up at Martin and asked, “What’s wrong? Why so sad?”

  “I’m not,” Martin answered through clenched teeth.

  “Sick?”

  “No.” Martin stared at Phillip now.

  “He’s neither sad nor sick.” I put my hand on my hip and drilled Phillip with my eyes as I answered Don. “He’s simply trying to be civil.” Then under my breath, I muttered, “Unlike your brother.”

  “Goodness, little lady. You are spunky.” Don leaned toward me.

  Was he trying to flirt again? At least now I knew he wasn’t married. My face, even though it had been icy cold a minute ago, grew warm. If Bob overheard what was going on, he didn’t let on. “Martin!” he said. “There you are. Come sit down.” He patted the chair next to him. Then he motioned to Hope to join them.

  As Hope dried her hands, Bob turned his attention to Phillip. “Go ahead and get started in the shop. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I headed back to the mud porch and was hanging up my cape when Phillip bumped into me.

  “Excuse you,” I said.

  “How about you?” he asked. “Are you looking for someone to court too?”

  I shook my head as I draped my cape over a peg, wishing away the warmth spreading from my face down my neck.

  “Even if she were, she’s not your type,” Don said, stepping around us, his voice light. “She’s too lively for you.” As he opened the back door he turned back and winked at me.

  I raised an eyebrow and turned around, walking with my head high back into the kitchen. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure how to respond to him. Perhaps he flirted with all the girls.

  “ . . . so Hope’s father told me,” Bob was saying, “if a young man should want to court her while she stayed with us that he would trust my judgment as to the character of the young man.”

  I stepped to the sink, my back to the others.

  Bob continued, “I have to tell you, Martin. There’s not a young man I’d recommend more highly than you.”

  No one said anything for a long moment. True, this wasn’t the way things were usually done in our community, but this was a special case. I listened for a response from Martin. I waited until I felt I might burst and then turned around, slowly. Martin sat staring at Hope as if Bob hadn’t spoken at all. He seemed paralyzed—by love or fear, I couldn’t be sure.

  “Martin, say something,” I blurted out.

  He cleared his throat. “Jah, I would like to court you, Hope. If that’s all right with you.”

  She beamed, her blue eyes dancing, but didn’t answer.

  I stepped behind her and whispered, “Hope . . . respond.”

  She spoke softly, “Jah. I’d like that. Denki, Onkel Bob.”

  “Whew,” I said, settling into the chair beside her. “I’m glad that’s finally taken care of.”

  Bob chuckled as he stood. “So who’s next on our matchmaking list?”

  I was tempted to say “Phillip”—except I knew it would rile Martin. And besides, I certainly didn’t want Hope or Martin saying I needed to be added to the list.

  “No one.” I stood. “Let’s concentrate on the Bopplis. And good health.” I knew it sounded as if I was referring to Nan, but I meant Cate too. “And strong families.”

  “Ach,” Hope said, standing. “I know someone who could use a little help.”

  “Jah.” Martin looked directly at me, a smile spreading across his face.

  “Oh, no.” I stepped toward the sink. “Please. I don’t need anyone interfering. I’m not interested in courting—I’ve got my hands full right now.” I turned the water on, drowning out their chatter. I knew their intentions were good, but I didn’t want to be matched with anyone.

  However, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having intervened on Hope’s behalf. No wonder Molly enjoyed her time with her friends. Being involved in people’s lives was a blessing, not something to avoid as I’d done, foolishly, for so many years.

  Chapter

  8

  The rest of Friday was a blur of washing bottles, mixing formula, filling bottles, feeding babies, and changing diapers. It helped that Cate left the office early and lent a hand fixing supper—meatloaf, mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and greens. I’d meant to make a batch of bread but hadn’t found the time, so I was thankful when a woman from our district dropped by four loaves. She’d had two sets of twins a half-century ago and said Nan had been on her mind all week.

  I thanked her profusely, hopefully enough that she’d bring another batch soon.

  “My goodness, Bea,” she said. “I didn’t take you to be so outgoing.”

  I must have blushed, because she added, “No need to be embarrassed. It suits you well.�
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  I couldn’t imagine how someone without a community of support could manage more than one baby at a time, or even manage one at all, for that matter—not at first anyway. After the woman left, I offered up a prayer of thanks to God for her, her bread, and how he was taking care of all of us.

  I couldn’t explain it, but I felt something shifting inside of me. I was aware of it again when I volunteered to give Asher his bottle after finishing up the dishes.

  As I held him, staring into his inky eyes that were glued to mine, an odd feeling welled up inside of me. He was so vulnerable. So dependent on my care. So trusting.

  I took a raggedy breath. I cared for him, and for his brother and sister too, in a way I couldn’t have imagined possible a week ago. The funny thing was, the more I cared, the more my confidence grew.

  That wasn’t the only thing growing—the laundry kept piling up, until Saturday morning the two hampers in the upstairs bathroom overflowed.

  After breakfast I said I’d start the wash and told Hope to come get me if she needed help. She did, a lot. Asher had spit up all over his bassinet while Nan was nursing Kurt. Leah wouldn’t take a bottle. The diaper pail was full.

  I tackled the laundry in short spurts, and it wasn’t until nearly noon that I got outside to hang the first load on the line. The boys were all outside eating sandwiches they’d made from the meat, cheese, and bread Cate had spread out on the kitchen table.

  Sure enough, Hannah sat with them. She called out to me. I waved and then started pinning baby blankets to the line as fast as I could, anticipating a holler for me to help inside at any moment.

  I tried to ignore the group at the picnic table, but Hannah spoke so loudly it was impossible. “Now that Martin’s been matched, who’s next?”

  I groaned. What was wrong with people? I listened for an answer, and when it didn’t come, I couldn’t help but glance—in a natural way, I hoped—over at the group.

  All eyes were on Ben. He stood, a sandwich in his hand. “Not me.” He took a couple of steps backward. “I’m never getting married.”

  What a blessing for all women, I thought, as I grabbed another blanket and pinned a corner to the line. Ben would be a pernicious suitor. He’d certainly been so with me.

  “Funny,” Hannah said. “Beatrice has always said she’ll never marry either.”

  My face grew hot. I turned my back to them, pinning the second corner and then grabbing another blanket.

  “Bea, don’t pretend you can’t hear me,” Hannah called out. What all had Molly told her about me? Probably everything—and more.

  “I’m not pretending anything,” I answered, flipping the edge of another blanket over the line. “I’m choosing not to respond.”

  Hannah laughed and then said, “I think your not answering must communicate something.”

  Mervin said, “Ach, Hannah, let her be. She’s had some peace with Molly gone.”

  Someone stirred. I held my breath, hoping Ben wasn’t walking toward me—because someone was.

  “Where’s Hope?” It was Martin.

  I faced him. “Helping Nan. As soon as I finish this load, I’ll see if she can come out for a bit.” If I’d known they were all gathered around outside, I would have sent her out to hang the wash. That way she and Martin could have had a few minutes to chat.

  “Thank you,” he said, drifting back toward the picnic table.

  As I started to hang another blanket, someone else approached. I peeked around the blanket.

  Don cleared his throat, his hat in his hand. “Don’t let the others get to you,” he said. He was uncharacteristically serious.

  I dropped the blanket. “Pardon?” I said as I reached down to grab it.

  “They’re teasing,” he said, stroking his beard.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I’m fine.” I pinned the blanket between us. His seriousness concerned me more than his flirting.

  He reached out and lifted the blanket so he could see me. “Jah,” he said. “I can tell you’re able to take care of yourself. I just wanted you to know I’m here if you need anyone to talk to.”

  I inhaled quickly and grabbed a spit rag. “Denki,” I replied, knowing I’d talk with Hope first. Before he could respond, I scooted the basket down the line. A moment later, Don followed Phillip, Ben, and Martin toward the shop. Hannah had moved to the other side of the table and sat on the bench next to Mervin. She couldn’t have gotten any closer to him unless she sat on his lap.

  The boys would have a break in a couple of hours. Maybe Hope could go out then. I definitely wouldn’t—not if I could help it. I’d hang the next loads before they came out again, and then take it all down after their break.

  I finished the pinning and hurried up the back steps, surprised to have Hope meet me at the back door. She held it wide open for me. “What did Don say?”

  I breezed past her, put the empty basket on the table, and gave her a brief account of the conversation.

  “That’s nice of him to offer to listen,” she said.

  I nodded and placed the basket on the table. It was thoughtful of him. “I just wish I knew what his intentions were.”

  “I think he’s sweet on you.” Hope smiled.

  I shook my head.

  “No, he is,” she said. “Which one do you prefer? Ben or Don?”

  “Hope,” I groaned. “Stop. I’m serious—I’m never going to get married.”

  She grinned. “I’m pretty sure you’re wrong. By this time next year, you’ll be married. The only thing left is for you to choose which one. If you don’t, someone else is bound to choose for you.” She giggled.

  Her teasing was ridiculous. I picked up the basket and headed downstairs. Ben despised me, and I had nothing in common with Don. But at least he seemed to be a decent human being, which was more than I could say about Ben.

  Hope did manage to sneak outside during the next break, while I took a turn with the babies, giving Asher and then Kurt bottles. After I finished, I headed to the kitchen for a glass of water before I put the last load of wash through the wringer. Cate and Hope sat at the table, folding the blankets that the warm autumn sun had already dried.

  “Oh, there you are,” Hope said, as if surprised to see me.

  I grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

  When neither of them spoke, a sense of awkwardness spread through me. “Did I interrupt?”

  “Oh, no,” Cate said. “We were just talking.”

  Hope nodded her head and then said, slowly, “Jah . . .” She turned toward Cate, her eyes wide.

  “Oh,” I answered. Hope was a terrible liar. “About anything in particular?”

  “Not really,” Hope said. “Just that . . .”

  “I’d better get back to the office,” Cate said, with a hiccup. Or maybe she suppressed a chuckle. “I’m going to finish some paperwork—then I’ll be back to help with supper.”

  “What are we having?” I asked.

  Cate froze. “Oh, I hate this part of the day. Do you have any ideas?”

  I shook my head. I thought she’d taken something out to thaw. Then I remembered the meatballs in the freezer and mentioned them.

  Her face lit up. “Perfect. Aenti Laurel left those before her surgery.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except they’re frozen.”

  “They’ll probably thaw in time. If not, I’ll put the plastic bags in a pan of hot water,” I said. “And get the potatoes scrubbed and peeled.”

  I expected Hope to chime in on what she would do to help, but she stared past Cate instead, toward the back door.

  “How about if you hang the last load on the line,” I suggested to her. “That will at least give you—”

  She was up and headed to the basement door before I finished my sentence.

  I called after her, “You’ll have to run it through the wringer first.”

  Cate shook her head and smiled as she left for the office. “She’s got it bad.”

  “Jah,” I answered. I pulled the
meatballs out of the freezer, and when I returned I checked on Nan and the babies.

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “We’re almost out of wipes.” With so many babies, wipes were much more sanitary—plus they cut down some on the wash. Any little bit helped. Nan continued, “I was sure we had another box. We must be going through them faster than I thought.”

  “I can go to the store,” I said.

  “Denki.” She looked odd sitting there without a baby in her arms. “And we need milk—buy three gallons, since the boys are eating here. Put it all on our account. And ice cream—so take a cooler.”

  I grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil and started a list.

  “Bob’s going to buy disposable diapers, in bulk, on Monday, but you should get a couple of boxes. We can’t keep doing cloth diapers. It’s too much work.”

  I jotted down diapers, relieved. We’d been doing laundry nearly every day.

  “Get a couple of different kinds of ice cream. You could ask the boys what flavor they want.”

  I wouldn’t need to. They’d be happy with whatever I got.

  “Denki,” she said, a tender look on her face. “I love my babies. I am so grateful to God. I have never felt so blessed. But Beatrice, if you and Hope and Cate weren’t here to help, I think I’d be absolutely crazy by now.”

  “You wouldn’t be,” I said. “You’re doing great.”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Nan.” I sat down beside her and put my free hand around her shoulder. “Are you all right?’

  She smiled as she swiped at her cheeks. “Just tired. All of it—what the pregnancy did to my body, recovering from surgery, trying to nurse—is so hard.”

  “I can send one of the boys to the store.”

  She shook her head. “Bob needs them. I’m going to rest while I can.”

  It wouldn’t be long, I knew.

  “I’ll hurry,” I said. “Hope is finishing up the wash. I’ll tell her to check on you when she’s done.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Nan said. “Take a little extra time if you want to, really. Stop by your place and see how Edna’s doing.”