The Middlefield Family Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  “And have you? Worshipped God?”

  He looked down at the table. He’d vowed when he left he would still attend church. Probably a Mennonite one. And he did. For maybe two Sundays. It became easier to stay out late on Saturday and sleep in on Sunday, like everybody else he knew. To watch football, go to movies, spend time with new friends. To entertain girlfriends, most recently Ashley, who had never been to church in her life. It had taken him less than a month of living in Michigan to not only forget about his faith, but to forget about God.

  “I think you’ve answered my question.” Leona leaned toward him. “Look at me, Adam.”

  Guilt and shame overwhelmed him. It took him a long time to face her.

  “We both have concerns about Mark. And your mother. And I can see you’re worried about Emma too.”

  He hesitated. “Ya. I am.”

  “But you can’t help anyone until you get yourself right with the Lord.”

  “I’ve heard that all my life, Leona. But what does it mean? Pray? Ask forgiveness for my sins?” He thought about Ashley, and the shame returned. “It can’t be that easy.”

  “It’s not a matter of saying the right words, Adam. You have to make some hard decisions.”

  “I know, I know. The Amish world or the Yankee world.”

  “Nee.”

  He stared at her. “What do you mean, nee?”

  “Amish or Yankee, it doesn’t matter. You have to first decide who is in control of your life. You or God?”

  Adam slumped against the back of the chair. “I don’t know.”

  “Until you can answer that question, you can’t move forward. But I can tell you this: If God is in control of your life, you won’t be confused. You’ll know your place in this world. If He’s not . . .” She shrugged. “I think you already know what happens when He’s not.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Emma heard the sound of footsteps approaching the barn. She wiped her nose and got up from the hay bale, not wanting Adam to see her acting like the bratty child her sister thought she was. She checked on the animals’ food. They had eaten all their breakfast, but it was too soon to give them any more. Especially Archie and Rodney, who often ate more than their fair share.

  The smell of manure in the barn might have seemed cloying to anyone else, yet Emma found it comforting. She had never mentioned that to anyone. Not even Adam, although after today, she had a feeling he would understand.

  “Emma?”

  “Mark.” She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. Why had she expected Adam to come?

  Not expected. Wanted.

  “Just checking on you. Making sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m all right.” Suddenly embarrassed by the filthy state of the barn, she grabbed a push broom from a hook on the wall and started sweeping.

  Mark took the broom from her hands, much the way Adam had done when they were in the workshop the other day. But instead of feeling pleasant chills at Mark’s closeness, she squirmed in her skin.

  “You don’t have to do that now.” He leaned the broom against the wall, turned her to face him, and placed his hands on her shoulders. The desire to shrug them off was overwhelming. A desperate compulsion.

  “I’m here for you, Emma.”

  “I . . . I appreciate that.” She stepped back. “But really, I am okay. Sometimes Clara still thinks I’m her boppli schwester. She forgets I’m grown up.”

  “That you have opinions of your own. Feelings that shouldn’t be dismissed.” Mark nodded. “I know what that feels like. To be ignored. To have someone treat you as if you don’t matter.”

  She moved out of his grasp, trying to get away, to put space between them. If he had noticed these things about her in such a short time, what must everyone else think? She averted her gaze, ashamed that people saw her as weak.

  “You’ve been hurt, Emma. Deeply hurt.”

  “Is that what Clara told you?”

  “Clara didn’t have to tell me anything. I can see it in your eyes.” He lifted her chin. “Beautiful blue eyes.”

  Heat filtered through her cheeks. Against her will, his compliment soothed her.

  “Was it Adam? Was he the mann that hurt you?”

  Emma looked at the ground, tempted to say nothing. But he had already guessed so much about her. As if he had read her thoughts, seen her heart. “Ya,” she whispered, unable to hold back. “He did.”

  “He doesn’t deserve you. Clara doesn’t either.”

  Her gaze snapped to him. “Clara? What do you mean?”

  “She’s bullying you so she can get her way.”

  “She’s being practical.”

  “She’s being selfish.” Mark gazed into her eyes. “She doesn’t want that shop to help you and your grossmudder. She wants it for herself and Peter.”

  “It’s partly their business. Of course they would have a share of the profits.”

  He shook his head. “I think she wants it all, Emma.”

  “That’s not true. I know she’s being pushy, but she’s not that selfish.”

  Mark shrugged. “I’ve heard a few whispered conversations between the two. It’s hard not to, in a haus that small. They’ve been making plans. I don’t think they include you and Leona.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” She shook her head, refusing to believe him. “What are they going to do, take over the shop, then Grossmammi’s haus? Why would they want to do that?”

  “Why wouldn’t they want it? The house is bigger, the land is valuable. With all this property, they could sell it off piecemeal and make a decent profit.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m just letting you know what I’ve heard. I could be completely wrong. But it would make sense. Clara waiting until your mudder died.” He fingered one of her kapp strings. “Waiting until you were vulnerable. Making you feel bad about yourself.”

  “Clara’s not doing that. Peter would never do it either.” Emma’s throat burned. “They wouldn’t want to move here, or sell off the land. They love their haus.”

  “I’m sure they do. Just like they love you.”

  Emma turned away from him. Could this be true? It wasn’t out of Clara’s character to try to control things. And Peter had asked Emma and her grandmother to move in with them. Maybe moving in wasn’t what he had in mind, so much as moving them out of Grossmammi’s bigger house. Emma could easily imagine Clara being the boss of the shop, gradually pushing her sister out of the picture.

  Clara and her family would move into the house. Then it would become her house. Emma and Grossmammi, one unmarried woman and one widow, would be at the mercy of her sister and brother-in-law.

  She shook her head and tried to clear the unwelcome images from her mind. If they wanted to move in, all they had to do was ask. They would be welcome.

  She turned and glared at Mark. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You may be a part of our familye, but you don’t know us.”

  He moved back a pace. “Emma, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought you should know.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. I don’t know your familye well. So I’m sure I misunderstood everything. I’m sorry. I should mind my own business.”

  The sincere tone of his apology took some of the bite out of her response. “Ya. You should have.”

  “I just don’t want to see anyone take advantage of you. Or hurt you. That’s all.” He moved closer again. “Can we start over? We don’t have to talk about any of this. I’ve been learning my way around Middlefield. I know there are places I haven’t seen yet. Maybe you could show me around sometime?”

  “I can’t.”

  “I can pick you up,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard her. “I’m sure Peter won’t mind if I borrow his horse and buggy. Please, Emma. Don’t be mad at me. I like you.” He leaned toward her. “Give me a second chance.”

  He’d never really had a first one. Yet she didn’t have a reason to say n
o. And it might be good for her to get away for a little while. She had stayed close to the house and to her grandmother since her mother’s death. Other than church and one grocery trip, she hadn’t been anywhere else. Maybe a change of scenery would give her some perspective.

  “Mark?”

  They both turned to see Clara standing in the doorway. “I need to get back to the kinner. Julia could only watch them for a couple hours.”

  “Then I’ll catch up with you later,” he said.

  “Geh on back with her,” Emma said. “I have things to do here.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  Clara was tapping her toe, the same impatient gesture she’d had since they were young girls. “Maybe another time.”

  “What about that buggy ride?”

  Emma paused. A short buggy ride. What could it hurt? “Tomorrow evening. But just for a little while.”

  He grinned. “I’ll be here at four.”

  “So you and Emma have a date?” Clara and Mark walked down the driveway. They turned onto Bundysburg Road and headed toward the house.

  “Ya.” Mark smiled. “I’m going to take her for a buggy ride tomorrow.”

  “In whose buggy?”

  “I was hoping to use Peter’s.” Mark glanced at her. “That’s all right, isn’t it?”

  Clara fought against her rising anger and impatience. Mark had promised to come help her in the shop, but he had spent the time with Emma instead. She was having a hard time sorting out all her emotions. Isn’t that what she wanted, for Emma to find a husband, to be happy? Hadn’t she already given Mark her approval? Then why did something ugly twist inside her at the thought of the two of them together?

  “Clara? Do you think Peter will mind if I borrow the buggy?”

  “I don’t know.” She stared straight ahead, the soles of her black shoes scraping against weather-worn asphalt. “He might have some business in town.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “I said I don’t know, Mark,” she repeated through gritted teeth. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  Mark stopped walking. “Clara, I don’t understand. I thought you wanted Emma and me to be together.”

  “I did. I do.” She faced him, irritated. “But I don’t have to devote every spare moment thinking about it. Now that she and my grossmammi have finally agreed to move on with the business, I need to focus on that. Not on how you’re going to take mei schwester out on a date.” She turned and started walking again. He quickly caught up.

  “What did you do in the workshop?”

  “I made some mental notes. Took inventory of the tools. There wasn’t much I could do in such little time without more help.”

  “Sorry if I let you down.”

  “You didn’t let me down. I could have just used the help.”

  “Then maybe you should have asked Adam.”

  Clara didn’t respond. Adam had still been inside the house when they left. Why did her grandmother want to talk to him anyway? She had already broken one of the rules of the bann—being seated at the same table with an excommunicated member. Yet she had included him like he was part of the family. She had welcomed him more than she had Mark. Which was unusual for her grandmother, who normally treated everyone equally.

  Mark kicked at a pebble. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.” The clopping of a horse’s hooves filled the quiet air as a buggy approached from behind. Clara moved an arm’s length away from him.

  “Just thinking.”

  “And avoiding my comment.”

  “I didn’t ask Adam because he was talking with Grossmammi. I didn’t want to interrupt them.”

  “Seems to me you should have.” Mark looked at her. “He’s obviously got Leona fooled.”

  They turned into her driveway. “Fooled about what?”

  “About everything. He’s trying to make you all think he cares about your familye again. I think he’s up to something.”

  “I can’t imagine what. There’s nothing he can get from us. He turned his back on our way of life a long time ago.”

  “Then why hasn’t he gone back to Michigan by now?”

  They stopped in front of the door. Mark let the question hang between them for a moment.

  But Clara had no answer.

  For the rest of the day Clara tried to focus on what she’d accomplished. Her grandmother approved of her plans for the shop. Emma had stepped out of the way. By the time Peter came home from town later that afternoon, her enthusiasm had returned.

  After they had all eaten supper, Mark left, saying he was going out for a walk. For the first time in months, Clara asked her husband to sit with her on the back porch while Junior and Melvin played on the tire swing in the yard. Magdalena sat in her playpen nearby, tugging on the clothes of one of her cloth dolls.

  “How was your time in town?” Clara asked.

  “Fine. But I didn’t take the roofing job.”

  “Why not?”

  “Turns out it wasn’t for a school, but for a private home.” Peter stared out into the yard. “The pay was less than minimum wage, and we were responsible for our own transportation. At the end of the job, I would have lost money.”

  Clara let out a breath, thankful Peter had made a wise decision. It made her even more excited to tell him the news. “Grossmammi agreed we could start working on the shop.”

  “What about Emma?”

  Clara averted her gaze. “Emma came around too.”

  “So she agreed just like that?”

  “Nee, it wasn’t quite that simple. But the important thing is that they’re going to let us get started on the workshop. I was hoping tomorrow you and I could take the kinner and geh over there. We could sort through the tools together.”

  Peter shook his head. “I thought I’d geh into town again. Start asking around about jobs.” He glanced at her. “Like you’ve been wanting me to.”

  “But, Peter, don’t you see? This is your job now. Our job. Our business. Together.”

  “Clara, I don’t think selling the tools will provide enough money to get the shop off the ground. Ephraim’s collection is nice, but people aren’t paying top dollar right now.”

  “The shop isn’t going to be fancy. We just need to clean it up and purchase a little bit of inventory. After we make a few sales and the word gets out, we’ll be profitable.”

  Peter set the porch swing in motion. Junior and Melvin chased each other around the yard. Magdalena started to whimper in her playpen. Clara picked her up, settling the chunky baby on her hip.

  Her husband remained silent.

  “Peter, I need an answer. Will you help me with this or not?”

  He turned to her. “I’ll help, Clara. But before I do, I want us to pray about it. Together. The success of the fabric shop, or anything else we do, will not be because of hope or wishful thinking. It will only succeed because it’s God’s will.”

  Clara nodded. She would pray with Peter. A familiar, distant fluttering stirred within her, something she hadn’t felt for a long time.

  Everything was going to be all right. Their business, their marriage . . .

  Their life.

  After checking on Dill and settling the rest of the animals for the night, Emma went inside. Exhaustion swept through her. And defeat. Adam had gone home by the time Mark and Clara had left. He didn’t see her, didn’t say good-bye.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised. But why couldn’t she stop caring about him? If he would just leave, everything would go back to the way it had been. Everything would be simple again.

  But that wasn’t true either. Nothing would ever be the way it had once been. Everything had changed.

  She turned off the gas lamps in the living room and went upstairs. As she passed by her grandmother’s bedroom, she heard that low, raspy cough again. She knocked on her grandmother’s door. “Grossmammi? Are you all right?”

  A moment passed before her grandmother responded. “Come in, Emma. I was hoping to talk
to you before you went to bed.”

  Emma entered the room. Her grandmother was sitting up in bed, a plain blue and white quilt folded over her waist. A Bible lay open on the side of the bed where her grandfather used to sleep. The old woman patted the empty space next to her. “Come. Sit.”

  Emma sat. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound worse than you did this morning.”

  Grossmammi waved her off. “I just have a cold, Emma. They always get worse before they get better. But I don’t want to talk about mei cold. I want to discuss the situation with you and your schwester.”

  “We don’t have anything to discuss. I understand that opening the shop is important. I know it will help us. And I know I’ve been acting childish about it.”

  “Who said you’re acting childish?”

  “Clara. Didn’t you hear her today?”

  “Oh, I heard her, all right. But she is smart, and she is right about one thing. If it’s God’s will that this shop should succeed, it will. Meanwhile, Clara will work hard at doing God’s will.”

  “So will I. I’ll start cleaning it out tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think you should help clean the shop just yet.” She sneezed. Wiped her nose.

  “Why? There’s no reason I shouldn’t help Clara and Peter.”

  “Peter and Clara will have plenty of help. I have a feeling Mark will be around here. More than he probably should.”

  “You don’t like Mark?”

  “I don’t trust him. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me. Adam feels the same way.”

  Emma got up from the bed and went to the window. It was dark outside. Still, she could make out the shadowy outline of the Ottos’ house, with Adam’s truck still parked in the driveway. “Adam shouldn’t have an opinion about Mark.”

  “Why not? Adam’s your friend.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “He won’t be if you keep pushing him away.”

  Emma turned around. “I’m not pushing him away. He’s the one who left. He’s the one who’s leaving again.”

  “Do you want him to leave?”