by Leslie Gould
Mervin threw his head back in laughter as Ben walked away. A moment later, Mervin and Martin headed back to the shop too, followed by Phillip. As Hope loaded the rest of the vines from the squash plants into the wheelbarrow, it began to rain. She kept working until the wheelbarrow was full and then pushed it toward the compost pile, moving out of sight.
A few minutes later she came through the back door, pausing to take off her boots and cape. When she entered the kitchen she said, “I’ll go back out after the rain stops.”
She stopped by the wood stove and warmed her hands while I stumbled over my thoughts. I wanted to ask how everyone was doing. And what the joke had been about. And if anyone asked about me.
But how could I inquire about that when I’d asked her not to talk about me?
She lifted her head. “Don’t you want to know what we talked about?”
I grimaced.
“I can tell you do,” she said. “Martin asked where you were, because none of them have seen you since yesterday noon.”
I nodded.
“They think you’ve gone somewhere. Back to your Mamm’s farm. Or maybe even to Montana already.”
I shook my head. That was like all of them to jump to conclusions like that.
“And then Mervin said he bet you’d run off with Don—or that you were planning to.”
“Was he serious?”
Hope nodded. “He seemed to be. I mean, he was all jokey, but at the same time he wasn’t. Do you know what I mean?”
I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant.
My head began to hurt. “Did you say anything to him?”
She blushed. “I know you didn’t want me to, but I told them they were all ignoramuses.”
I burst out laughing.
“Is that correct? As far as making it plural?”
I nodded, still laughing. But if she’d called them all ignorami, that would have been funny too.
Before I could say more, Cate called my name from down the hall.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. I hadn’t checked on Cate for an hour or so. I thought she was sleeping. But maybe she needed some fresh water or another book to read. I could loan her the book of poems Ben had given me. Better yet, I could give it to her. “What do you need?” I asked as I entered the sunroom.
“To talk with you,” she said, pointing to the couch. “Sit down.”
I did, not sure what to expect. Had I done something else wrong?
“What’s going on?” she asked.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to burden her.
“Pete told me some of it. I’m so sad—false accusations are horrible. I can’t believe Ben . . .” She sighed. “You two seemed so right for each other.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. “I was mistaken about him. That’s all.” I stood. “Are you out of books to read? Because I have one for you.”
I left the room before she answered and returned with the book of poems, handing it to her quickly and then leaving again to check on the meal.
Later, as I mashed the potatoes, Cate called out my name again. I headed back down the hall, stopping in the doorway. She held the open book toward me, showing me that she was reading the “When You Are Old” poem.
“You know,” she said, “whether a story has a happy ending or not all depends on when the author ends the story. If he would have waited a day or two, love might have come back down from the mountaintop and sat beside the fire again. Relationships are like that. You have to work through things. You can’t let love flee.”
“I didn’t let love flee,” I said. “Ben chased it away.”
“Jah,” she said, “I understand that. And it’s important that you’re loyal to yourself. But even more so, you should be loyal to the truth because it’s a big part of love, a love that’s healthy anyway.”
“I am loyal to the truth,” I said. “I’m not going to sprinkle sugar over what Ben has done.” I couldn’t trust him after this. There was no hope for our relationship.
“I mean loyal to finding out the truth, Bea.” She sat up a little straighter. “Until you can get to the bottom of this, to why Ben is so sure you cheated on him, you won’t really know what happened.”
What happened was that Ben was an idiot. I’d known that in the past. I’d been a fool to think he’d changed. “I’ll bring you a tray in a few minutes,” I said to Cate.
“Denki.” She extended the book to me.
“Oh, you can keep it,” I said.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to.” She took a deep breath as I took it and then said, “I hope Pete will be in soon.”
“He will be,” I said. And my Mamm would be arriving too. The last thing I wanted was to rehash everything with her around. And it wasn’t as if there was anything she could do anyway.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Molly arrived with Mamm, who brought three casseroles. After I took the pans down to the basement and put them in the freezer, I quickly set another place at the table as she explained that Leon decided to stay home and sort through his tackle in the barn. “He’ll take some to Montana and sell the rest.”
Pete ate with Cate in the sunroom. A soon as Bob entered the kitchen, carrying Leah, Mamm swooped the baby out of his arms and settled in the rocking chair, cooing at her. Nan entered next with Kurt and put him down in the playpen, followed by Hope with Asher.
As I put the food on the table, Molly knelt down by the playpen and looked at Kurt. “Pick him up,” Mamm said. “Babies need to be held.”
Molly did, although a little awkwardly, which made me smile. She was better than me at everything in life—except for babies. Well, she wasn’t much interested in words either.
Nan sat on her chair as I put the potatoes on the table. “Time to eat,” she said. Poor Nan was always hungry.
Hope put Asher in the playpen and Molly put Kurt beside him, but when Mamm tried to put Leah down, she began to fuss. “I’ll rock her,” Mamm said. “While all of you eat.”
After Bob led us in prayer, taking advantage of my mother’s hearing loss, I asked Molly, quietly, what she’d told Mamm.
“Just that there had been a misunderstanding as far as Ben. I didn’t give her all the details.”
“Denki,” I said.
Bob passed the roast to Nan. “I talked with Ben today. He says he definitely saw you, Bea, with a man. He’s sure it was Don—”
I started to speak but realized I was interrupting.
Bob continued. “I don’t think he’s lying—I think he truly thinks he did see you. He’s hurt to the core by it.”
Molly passed the potatoes to Bob. “Did you ask Ben exactly what he saw?”
Bob actually blushed. “Jah . . .”
“For example, did you ask what she was wearing?”
I shook my head. “Molly, I was wearing my cape and Kapp. Like every other girl at the singing.”
“True . . .” Molly said. “How about exactly where she was?”
“Under a tree,” Bob answered, glancing up at me.
“That’s true,” I said, “but Don and I were arguing—and then he was being . . . rough with me. We weren’t doing anything Ben could misconstrue . . . the way he has.” Unless he only saw us for a split second.
“I’m going to talk with him,” Molly said. “And try to figure this out. I’ll come over tomorrow.” I was tempted to roll my eyes. Molly thought she could come to the rescue, positive she could do something not even Bob could accomplish. In the background, Mamm hummed to Leah and Asher began to fuss.
“As far as Don’s wife,” Bob said, “I asked Phillip about it. He said Don was married, but they didn’t learn of it until after the wedding. And he said that his wife did die in a buggy accident—at least that’s what Don said.”
It had to be true. Who would lie about such a horrible thing?
“Well, I’m still really curious about Don’s girlfriend story,” Molly said. “I think I’ll call one of my friends in Ohio and see what I can f
ind out.”
I didn’t feel like rolling my eyes anymore. The truth was, if anyone could figure this mess out, it was Molly.
Asher’s fussing grew louder. “I’ll get him,” Bob said.
“No, you eat. I’ll do it.” I stuffed another bite into my mouth and pushed back my chair. As I lifted Asher he let out a wail, his face all red and scrunched. “You’re all right,” I cooed, swaying back and forth with him. He wailed again but then shifted down to a whimper. I stepped closer to Mamm so I could hear her peaceful humming to Leah, thankful that my mother hadn’t heard our earlier conversation.
She held Leah over her shoulder, patting the little one’s back. Without missing a beat she reached over and patted my arm, smiling up at me as she did. She said, quietly, “I’m so happy you like taking care of the babies.”
“Me too,” I answered.
She continued speaking softly. “Molly said you’ve had a difficult couple of days. I know Nan and Bob would be fine with you coming home if you need to.”
I nodded. “I’m fine, Mamm.”
She started humming again as the others chatted around the table. I kept swaying. Mamm kept rocking. I could see why she wanted to move to Montana. I didn’t want her to miss out on Molly’s baby—not for me.
I winced. It wouldn’t matter now if I did go to Montana. I’d be the Maidel Aenti. And Molly’s helper. Still, as much as I’d love my niece or nephew, I couldn’t imagine moving to Montana. Ben or not, I didn’t want to leave Lancaster County.
Mamm stopped humming. “Is there anything you need?” she asked.
I stepped in front of her, facing her. “Would you consider letting Love come back over here?” Love didn’t like Don. If he came around, she’d warn me.
“Molly can bring her by tomorrow,” Mamm said. “When she talks to Ben.”
I grimaced. So much for her not hearing our conversation. Her hearing was better than she let on. She smiled and started up with the humming again. But then a minute later she leaned close to me again and whispered, “Just don’t let the biddah bug bite.” It was something she used to tell me when I was little—and, honestly, it was timely advice for this particular time too. The last thing I wanted was to be a bitter old Maidel.
Mervin knocked on the back door the next morning, Love at his side. “So you really are still here.” Mervin took off his sunglasses, which he didn’t need on a foggy morning. “But Don’s gone?”
Love pressed my leg with her nose. “I have no idea where Don is,” I answered, as I reached down to stroke my dog’s head.
“That’s the same thing Phillip said.”
I doubted Don had left Lancaster, but I decided the best thing to do was change the subject. “Where’s Molly?” I asked. “She said she’d bring Love.”
“She said to tell you she couldn’t make it, that she has some things to deal with concerning their move.”
I thanked him for bringing Love and then asked if he’d fill her water dish and food. I nodded toward the bag on the mud porch. The last thing I wanted to do was venture far from the house and risk seeing Ben.
Throughout the day, I called Love to the mud porch to pet her. Happy to serve me, she’d come quickly, her tail wagging, knocking against the coats hanging on the pegs and the line of boots on the floor. It was a comfort to have her nearby. I’d changed. I was still a cat person, but Love had won my heart.
By late afternoon, I asked Hope to move Love’s dishes under the eaves of the house, next to the back door. She hadn’t been chained all day. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Friday morning Molly sent a note with Mervin that explained she’d had some more unexpected things come up concerning the logistics of her plans, but she’d be by soon. I hoped they were details that would prohibit them from moving at all.
She added a P.S. at the end of the note, asking me to come to the house Sunday evening to talk things through. Mervin is serious about buying the farm, she wrote. And now Mamm is feeling conflicted about all of it. I need you to talk with her.
I refolded the note and slipped it into my pocket. Molly was probably too caught up in all of her own problems to remember she said she’d speak to Ben and call friends in Ohio to find out more about Don. It appeared there were some things not even Molly could fix. I’d have to figure it out on my own. I’d been too complacent the last few days, relying on others to help me instead of helping myself.
Minutes before the noon hour, Hannah arrived to wait for Mervin. I hurried outside, wanting to speak with her before the boys came out of the shop.
“I need your help,” I said to her quickly. “I’m wondering who Ben might have seen that night, thinking it was me.”
“Goodness, Beatrice,” she said. “Don’t you think he can recognize you?”
“It wasn’t me,” I answered.
“I don’t care who you make out with.” She crossed her arms. “But why did you lead Ben on and then betray him?”
Voices came from down by the shop.
“Here they come,” she said. “You’d better go.”
Dumbfounded, I headed back to the house. With each step, the bitter bug bit at my soul.
A little after noon, Bob came into the house with a letter for Hope. “I know you’ve been waiting for this,” he said as he handed her the envelope.
She sat down at the table, pulled out the letter, and read it silently, a smile spreading across her face. When she finished it, she folded the paper and looked up at me and then turned her attention to Bob. “Dat said if you approve he approves. He trusts your judgment. He’s given us his blessing. He even said he wouldn’t mind if we married in Lancaster.” She stood quickly. “May I go tell Martin?”
“Jah,” Bob said, his eyes smiling.
Hope slipped the envelope into her pocket and practically skipped toward the mudroom. As she flung her cape over her shoulders, Bob gave me a sympathetic look.
I glanced away, afraid I might tear up. I was happy for Hope. I truly was. And her marrying Martin meant she’d stay in Lancaster County. Still, I couldn’t stop the ache inside me.
It rained all of that day, through the night, and during the next day too. The soggy red and yellow leaves of the maple and the brown leaves of the oak covered the lawn. At dinner Hope said the ground was so waterlogged that it felt as if it were a sponge when she walked across it.
Bob added that the creek between the properties was near flood level, something that seldom happened in November. It was usually only that high after the snowmelt.
I was glad we’d already moved Love under the eaves. She kept dry there and seemed content to see me on the mud porch several times a day.
That afternoon at quitting time Molly finally showed up, coming to the back door to tell me hello. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and the temperature had dropped more. Darkness had completely fallen, bringing a quietness to the house. Perhaps the lull before the storm. The babies had been colicky again, and I guessed it would be another wild night.
“I came to talk with Ben.” Molly stood at the back door with Love at her side. “I need to get right back, so I won’t have time to stay and talk for long. But you’re coming over on Sunday, right?”
I nodded.
“Gut. We have lots to discuss. We’ll have a better idea of the timing of everything.”
I frowned.
“Now that you and Ben have broken up, there’s no reason for you not to come to Montana with us.”
“Molly . . .”
“Think about it,” she said. “It would make everything much easier on Mamm.”
“I have been thinking about it,” I said.
“Gut.” She turned to go. “I’ll stop by before I go, just to tell you what Ben says.”
She was back in less than ten minutes.
“Come on in,” I said.
She shook her head. “I don’t have anything to tell you.”
“He wouldn’t talk to you?”
“No, he did. But I didn’t get any new informatio
n from him. Just that he saw you and Don. And he’s one hundred percent sure it was you, although only seventy-five percent sure it was Don from what he actually saw.”
“One hundred percent, huh?”
She nodded. Something else was going on. She didn’t seem as sympathetic toward me as she had before.
I narrowed my eyes. “What else did he say?”
She shrugged. “That was it, really.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Did you get ahold of any of your friends in Ohio? To ask about Don?”
“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I keep meaning to. I need to find my list of phone numbers I wrote down after I got rid of my cell. I think it’s in the desk out in the greenhouse.” She grimaced. “I’ve been so busy . . .”
“I’d really appreciate it,” I said. “Or give me the number and I’ll call.”
“Really?” she said. “You hate using the phone.”
I shrugged. “I hate being falsely accused too.”
“I’ll call,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “See you tomorrow. Probably at church, jah? And then for supper.”
“Jah,” I said. “Depending on how the babies are doing. But I’ll come by the house for sure.”
I hoped Molly would help me. If not, I’d have to figure out how to clear my name on my own.
Chapter
20
That evening Bishop Eicher, Mervin, and Hannah all congregated at the Millers’ dining room table, along with Hope and Martin. The twins’ parents had encouraged a double wedding. I guessed to save money, which I knew would appeal to Hope and her family. Apparently Hannah and her parents, who would be footing the bill for the event, had agreed to the idea too.
As soon as everyone arrived, I headed upstairs to help Nan care for the babies. An hour later, she’d retreated to her room with Leah while I rocked both Asher and Kurt.
When the nursery door opened I expected Hope, but it was Hannah. “Ach, there you are,” she said to me. “With the babies.” She acted as if nothing had happened between us the other day.