Becoming Bea

by Leslie Gould

  I enjoyed being with Mamm and Edna, but by the time the dishes were all put away, I began to miss being at the Millers’. I wondered how Hope had done with the babies during the night, how Cate was feeling, and who fixed breakfast. Since it was Sunday, the men wouldn’t be working in the shop, but I was certain they would still be thankful for my return.

  I began to think that if I went back sooner, rather than later, I might have a better chance of going to the singing. I could get caught up on the bottle washing and formula making. I could get dinner on the table and then put together a simple supper before the singing. There really wasn’t any reason for me to wait until afternoon to return.

  Mamm had retreated to the front porch to enjoy the last day of predicted sunshine for a stretch. I sought her out, sat beside her, and shared my idea of returning early.

  She said, “You want to leave already?”

  “I think I should, is all,” I said.

  “All right.” She put her arm around me and drew me close. “When will I see you again?”

  “Soon,” I said. I imagined Ben dropping me off after work and then picking me up on his way back the next morning in a week or two. Of course it would make more sense for me to get a ride with Mervin and Martin, but why would I want to do that?

  “I’ll see you then,” Mamm said.

  I told Edna good-bye in the kitchen and then found Molly and Leon in the greenhouse. Molly seemed distracted but managed to give me a hug and said she would see me in a day or two. “I plan to go see Hannah this week. I’ll stop by the Millers’ place to see Cate—and you.”

  Leon told me good-bye and then gave me another sympathetic look.

  As I turned Thunder onto the highway, a wave of uncertainty swept over me. I’d had one good day with Ben—and then Molly had to go and complicate everything.

  I took a deep breath. Life wasn’t meant to be easy, I knew that. Jesus had said we would have tribulation. He’d never promised us a worry-free life. And I’d known worse trials than this. Dat dying. Mamm being diagnosed with a tumor.

  I exhaled. I could deal with this latest crisis. I sat up straight, concentrating on the crispness of the day and the dazzling blue sky. My spirits lifted as high as they could go with the threat of our family being divided hanging over me. The puffy clouds—as white as freshly laundered sheets—gathering on the horizon and the hint of woodsmoke in the air reminded me that the good weather wouldn’t last forever.

  I just hoped it would last through tonight’s singing.

  The dark soil of a freshly plowed field to my right contrasted with the golden stalks of corn littering the edges of the road. Harvest was nearly done. Winter was on its way.

  When I turned off the highway, Thunder raced down the lane and straight to the barn. Pete met me there and said he’d take care of the horse. “I’m just finishing up the chores anyway,” he added.

  “Isn’t it a little late for that?” I asked as I jumped down.

  Pete just smiled and said, “Go on into the house. Bob will be happy to see you.”

  I found Bob in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up, his arms submerged in a sink full of soapy water. He was stooped over, scrubbing a pot. The dish rack was full of plates and glasses. Frying pans covered the stovetop. A platter with two slices of ham on it, a bowl with some potato wedges, and another platter with a bit of runny yolk on it were still on the table.

  “Guder Mariye,” Bob said, turning his head toward me. He looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink. “Or is it past noon?”

  “It’s still morning,” I answered. “Barely.”

  He turned his attention back to the pot. “We had brunch today—at least that’s what we’re calling it.”

  I hung up my cape. “I can help with the cleanup.”

  “Denki,” he said. “But go check with Nan first. She might need some bottles for the babies.”

  When I reached the nursery, I found Nan asleep on the single bed. Kurt was on a blanket on the floor, on his back, awake, and Leah and Asher were asleep in their bassinets. Kurt began to fuss when I entered the room, but Nan didn’t wake up. I picked him up quickly. His congestion seemed to be gone. I headed down the hall to look for Hope. She was asleep on her bed, in her dress, with her quilt pulled halfway over her.

  She stirred and then opened her eyes, rolling toward me. “Thank goodness you’re back. I was up half the night. Pete ended up helping too.” She sat up, yawning as she did. “What time is it?”

  “Around eleven thirty,” I said.

  “Do you need me?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  She collapsed back on the bed. “Then I’m going to try to sleep a little longer if you don’t mind.” She closed her eyes as she spoke.

  “Sure,” I said, backing toward the door.

  When I reached the kitchen, Bob was drying a plate, probably to make room in the rack for the pots and pans. I put Kurt in the playpen and began clearing the rest of the table.

  Bob shook his head. “How’d I overlook those things?”

  I smiled. “You were focused on the dishes. These were out of sight, out of mind.”

  “Jah,” he said. “I feel like a lot of things are out of mind right now.” He put the plate in the cupboard and grabbed another one. “How’s Nan?”

  “Asleep. So are Leah and Asher.”

  “Gut,” he said. “They gave us a run for our money last night. We thought their colic was getting better, but the boys had a flare-up last night, and Asher seems to have caught Kurt’s cold.”

  “Oh, mercy,” I said, thinking about how I’d put them in the playpen together. But at least it didn’t seem to be a bad cold or to hang on too long.

  But I decided not to get my hopes up about going to the singing. That way I wouldn’t be disappointed. Instead I busied myself making apple butter from the leftover applesauce that we hadn’t canned.

  Chapter

  16

  Hope must have said something to Nan about the singing, because the next time I went upstairs she was awake and said she wanted both of us to go. “You’ll be back to help with the babies by the time they’re the fussiest,” she said. “Bob and I can handle it while you’re gone.” She yawned. “Pete too if we need him. In fact we’ll all sit in the sunroom with Cate, so she doesn’t feel left out.”

  “I’ll have supper ready early,” I said, not convinced she didn’t need us to stay but willing to give it a try. “If you need us, send Bob or Pete over. We’ll just be at the Cramers’.”

  She yawned again and then said, “We’ll be fine.”

  I spent the rest of the afternoon bathing babies, carrying dirty laundry down to the basement to be ready to be washed the next day, fixing bottles, and rocking babies. Midafternoon I woke Hope and told her I was going to start supper and for her to take over in the nursery. As I worked in the kitchen, more clouds rolled in, dark and heavy, turning the sky from blue to gray. By the time dusk fell at five, I was certain the rain wasn’t far behind.

  Cate and Pete ate in the sunroom, but the rest of us ate at the table—beef-and-barley soup, biscuits with warm apple butter, green beans, and apple cobbler for dessert.

  “It’s amazing how quickly you can pull together a meal,” Nan said to me.

  “Jah,” Hope added. “We really missed you while you were gone.”

  I nodded graciously but inside I beamed. “I hope you’re not all getting tired of apples,” I said.

  “Of course not,” Nan replied. “I’m just relieved not to have to worry about planning or fixing meals. At least not for all of you.” A wry smile crossed her face, and we all laughed.

  Hope and I rushed through the dishes, finishing just as Martin and Ben arrived in the Mosiers’ buggy. “Go,” Nan said, coming up the hall from the sunroom with Leah in her arms when she heard the boys in the kitchen. “We’ll be fine.”

  “We won’t be late,” I promised.

  “We’ll just be over at the Cramers’ shed,” Ben added.

  Ho
pe said she was too tired to walk and especially too tired to walk home in the rain, so we took Martin’s buggy, lighting the lantern against the dark night. Ben and I sat in the back seat, side by side. He took my hand with his, tucking both between us, covered by my cape. My heart fluttered.

  Martin drove the buggy up the driveway, while Hope described the wild night with the triplets. “We really missed Bea,” she said. “She definitely has a way with the Bopplis. And with the cooking.” She glanced back at me and smiled, then added, “And everything else.”

  Ben squeezed my hand, causing my heart to race, and then he whispered, “I missed you too.”

  I squeezed his hand back. Just seeing him had made my thoughts fall back to the whole Montana debacle. My mood fell. It was hard to keep trusting God about it, especially when Molly had her mind made up. I needed to speak with Ben about it before he heard I was moving to Montana soon.

  “You okay?” Ben asked. “You seem really quiet.”

  I nodded. “Just tired.” That wasn’t exactly true, although I was tired of Molly trying to run my life. But I didn’t have time to explain things to Ben, and I didn’t want to try with Hope and Martin along. I hadn’t said anything to Hope yet. “I need to talk with you,” I whispered. “In private.”

  “Everything all right?” He sounded alarmed.

  “It will be,” I said, my heart sinking again.

  Ben gave me a worried look. Not wanting to respond, I turned my face away. Why had Molly gotten a bee in her bonnet about moving to Montana?

  Martin turned right onto the lane, and headed farther down, over the bridge that spanned the creek. We arrived at the Cramers’ farm and followed their drive straight back to the shed, parking past it in the field where the other buggies were. Already quite a group had gathered.

  As Ben helped me down from the buggy, Don called out to me and then said, “Just who I was looking for. Got a minute?”

  I glanced at Ben.

  “Go ahead,” he said, a puzzled look on his face.

  Don grinned at him. “Be back in a second.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me along.

  I yanked my arm back. “This is fine,” I said, stopping by the side of the barn, confused that my arriving with Ben hadn’t made it obvious to Don that the two of us were courting.

  “Ah, that sassy spirit.” He grinned again. “I have something I want to show you, later.”

  “Ben and I are courting,” I blurted out.

  “Jah,” he said. “So I’ve heard. This doesn’t have anything to do with you though. It has to do with me. My girlfriend is arriving this evening.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  He nodded.

  I put my hand to my forehead in relief. To think I thought he was interested in me when he had a girlfriend all along.

  “I was hoping you could meet her,” he said.

  “Tonight?” I asked.

  “Jah. She had to work around her driver. She’s meeting me over at the Millers’ shop around nine.”

  “Where’s she staying?”

  “Friends of hers. Phillip brought the buggy. I’ll have him swing by the Millers’ on the way home from the singing. Then we’ll drop her off at her friends’ house on our way home.”

  I’d need to be home by nine anyway—the babies were sure to be fussy by then.

  “She and I had some problems, but we’ve worked things out, and everything is fine.” He dug his boot into the dirt, his head down. “You’ve been kind to me . . .”

  “So you’re not upset?”

  He shook his head but didn’t look me in the eye. Perhaps he was embarrassed. “I have something for you though. I picked it up a few days ago.” He pulled a small book from his pocket and handed it to me. I couldn’t read the title in the dark.

  “It’s a children’s book of verses.”

  “Denki,” I said, “but wouldn’t you rather give it to your girlfriend?”

  His eyes met mine. He shook his head. “It’s for you.”

  I slipped the book under my cape, into my apron pocket, deciding I might as well get meeting his girlfriend over with. I wasn’t sure why it meant so much to Don—maybe just to prove to me that she existed and that I didn’t matter to him after all. “All right,” I said. “I’ll tell Ben. When he takes me back to the Millers’, we will stop at the shop.”

  “Oh, he doesn’t have to leave early. I can walk you over.”

  It would be dark, pitch-black, in fact. I shook my head. “I’ll ride in the buggy.”

  When I returned to Ben, a crowd had gathered around him, but when he saw me he slipped away. “What was that all about?” he asked, his eyes on Don.

  I shook my head. “He wants me to meet someone.” I didn’t want to go into detail.

  Ben squinted. “So when can you and I talk?” he asked. “It seems something is upsetting you.”

  “Jah,” I said. “We do need to talk. I have something to tell you.”

  Hope called out my name and pointed toward the shed. Everyone was filing inside.

  Ben took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, exhaling as he did.

  “Come on,” I said. “We’ll talk later.” When we entered the shed, I drifted toward the girls’ side with Hope while Ben followed Martin to sit with the other boys.

  I couldn’t help but yawn as the singing started. It wasn’t that I was tired. I was the one who’d gotten a good night’s sleep. It was more that I anticipated soon being tired.

  Part of me wished I hadn’t come to the singing at all. I patted the book in my apron pocket. But after tonight I wouldn’t have to interact with Don anymore. That was a good thing. Then I just needed to tell Ben about the Montana problem and deal with Molly.

  After the singing, Cap and Laurel Cramer served apple cider, popcorn, cheese slices, and crackers. Their daughter Addie held her baby brother, and the next two youngest—Billy and Joe-Joe, who were still in school—chased each other around the shed. Addie’s husband, Jonathan, helped serve the snacks.

  Not saying I needed to meet Don’s girlfriend first, I told Hope we needed to get back over to help Nan. She agreed, but then she and Martin disappeared. I looked for Mervin or Hannah outside the shed, but I couldn’t find them either. Don had been talking to Hannah right after the singing, but I hadn’t seen Mervin.

  “You stay here,” Ben told me. “I’ll find Martin. Or Mervin. He’ll know where his brother is.” He hurried off toward the barn.

  Just then Don approached me. “It’s getting late.”

  I answered, “I need to wait for Ben.” He’d already disappeared into the darkness. At least the rain had held off.

  Before I finished, Don took off. “I’ll tell him you’re coming with me.”

  “No,” I called out, squinting after him. “Tell him to come back.”

  A few minutes later, Don returned alone. “He’s still looking for Martin. He said, if you don’t mind, that you should just go with me. He’ll find Martin and tell him to come around in the buggy. Ben will find us, by way of the creek.”

  “It’s awfully dark to go that way,” I said.

  Don pulled a flashlight from his pocket. “I have this. And it is much quicker, but I understand if you’re not comfortable. You can wait. Maybe my girlfriend can stop by tomorrow.”

  I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “No, I’d like to meet her tonight.” The sooner I got it over with the better. Then maybe Ben wouldn’t be so uptight about Don. On second thought, maybe he wasn’t as uptight as I thought since he was fine with me starting back to the Millers’ without him.

  Don started off across the yard toward the trail down to the creek, waving the flashlight back and forth. I stayed a few steps behind, glancing over my shoulder for Ben every few minutes. I couldn’t see a thing except for an occasional beam darting around in the darkness. Probably the light on someone’s cell phone.

  When he reached the willow tree, Don waited for me. “He’ll catch up,” he said as I approached. He glanced up at the sky an
d then sniffed the air. “But I’m sure the rain is going to start any second—we should get going.”

  He sidestepped down the trail with me right behind him. When we reached the bank he reached for my hand and I gave it to him for my own safety, but he quickly dropped it when we reached the shore of the creek. He flashed the light across the stepping-stones. It was obvious he’d been this way before. He took my hand again, and I followed in his footsteps, managing not to get my shoes wet. When we reached the opposite bank, he dropped my hand. So far so good—except when I looked back over the creek there was still no sign of Ben.

  “Come on,” Don said, starting up toward the grove of trees.

  I heard voices ahead and then the giggle of a girl. I stopped.

  “It’s nothing,” Don said. “Just a couple of kids having fun.”

  My face grew warm, and for once I was thankful for the darkness so he couldn’t see me blush.

  As we hurried along the border of the trees, the girl giggled again. I quickened my step. In no time we’d reached the far edge of the trees. Don shone his flashlight toward the gate that separated the Cramers’ property from the Millers’. When we reached it, he unlatched the gate and held it open for me. Again, I glanced over my shoulder looking for Ben. Don turned back toward the trees and shone the flashlight back and forth over the path. No one was there.

  “I wonder what’s taking him so long,” I said.

  “He probably ran into someone he hasn’t seen for a while,” Don answered as he yanked the gate closed and then latched it. “He’ll be along soon enough.”

  We stayed to the fence line, on the far side of the shop and showroom. “She’s going to meet us in the parking lot,” Don said, his voice gravelly. “I told her to have her driver drop her off there.”

  We stood in the middle of the pavement until the rain started. It’d been so long that I turned my face up to it, holding my mouth open to the heavy drops, but when I realized Don was staring at me, I stopped.

  He pointed at me. “Look. She’s here.”

  I glanced toward the lane. “Where?”

  He kept his finger directed at me and laughed.

  The rain began to pour.