Always Close to Home

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “Well, that didn’t go well!” Laura declared, once the buggy had settled down.

  “At least we’re still alive,” Lydia muttered.

  “And we still have the Lord!” Laura said. “He really is our only hope now!”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  On a Saturday afternoon two weeks later, Laura awoke with a start. She shouldn’t have dropped off to sleep in the middle of cleaning the upstairs, but the thought of what she would go through tomorrow morning at the service had been too much. John would be sitting in his usual place along the back wall, seated on a rocker brought out especially for him. His sightless eyes would stare straight ahead, though he would know Laura was seated among the row of single women. Their connection was still there, still strong, but John wouldn’t turn his head. Meanwhile Laura would struggle not to cry out from the pain.

  Laura sat up straight on the bed when Daett’s voice called up the stairs. “Laura!”

  How did Daett know she had fallen asleep? Most of the time he walked around the house as if he was in a dream. And hadn’t he gone out to the barn right after lunch?

  “Yah!” Laura called out, jumping off the bed. She pressed out the wrinkles in her dress with both hands. Daett would understand, even if he noticed that she had fallen asleep in the middle of a busy Saturday afternoon workday.

  Laura opened the bedroom door and peered around the corner. Daett’s concerned face was framed in the open stairwell at the bottom.

  “I need to speak with you,” he called up the stairs. “Can you come down?”

  “Yah.” Laura gave her dress a few more swipes before stepping into the hallway. When she came out of the stairwell, Daett was seated in his rocker.

  “Please sit,” Daett said, trying to smile. “Deacon William spoke with me last Sunday. I’ve been meaning to speak with you about…” Daett’s voice drifted off.

  “I’m sorry. I just—”

  “It’s okay,” Daett interrupted. “I’m the one who should be sorry. Maybe you would have come to me if I hadn’t been so…” Daett looked away. “I’m just sorry about everything.”

  “You don’t have to be.” Laura reached over to touch his hand. “I understand. Did Deacon William speak ill of me? I know I probably shouldn’t have gone over to speak with him, but…”

  A thin smile crossed Daett’s face. “He was more concerned about me than you. Deacon William seems to think you’ll come out okay. It’s me that he had words for.”

  “Words for you?” Laura said, feeling relieved.

  “One of his concerns is that I need to pay more attention to my daughters,” Daett went on. “And that I find another frau, and soon. That’s part of paying attention to my family, apparently.”

  “I—”

  Daett silenced her with a wave of his hand. “Don’t be blaming yourself for anything, Laura. I just wanted to let you know that I plan to follow the deacon’s advice. In fact, Deacon William suggested that I consider his cousin, a widow by the name of Sherry Yoder. She will be visiting from Wayne County this week and staying at Deacon William’s place. The deacon has already spoken with her on the matter. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why Sherry made the trip up to the North Country, so the woman must be willing to wed quickly.” A wry smile played on Daett’s face. “Anyway, I have agreed to drive her home from the hymn singing tomorrow evening. You can tell the others, if you don’t mind. I don’t really feel like telling Nelson and Lester. You or Lydia would be better at that. If Sherry is agreeable, we’ll have the wedding in the spring I suppose. I should settle down quickly and get a proper mamm in the house again.”

  Laura sighed. “But don’t you think it’s a bit early to be talking about a wedding to someone you’ve never met?”

  Daett waved the protest away. “I know that it’s unexpected, and that we…well, we have no history, but it’s not like we need one. We’re both older, and the community has its expectation, as does my family. I need to set my house in order.”

  “But you might be settling for…”

  Daett nodded. “I know. She might be overweight and sharp-tongued.” Daett smiled again. “But love will come. It always does when we walk in the will of the Lord. It’s time I set an example for my daughters.”

  Laura gasped. “Is that what Deacon William said? That his cousin might have a few flaws, but that you could settle?”

  Daett grinned and didn’t answer.

  “You don’t have to marry a woman you don’t love because of me,” Laura said. “I’m sure Lydia feels the same way.”

  “You should get your feet on the ground, Laura, and out of those clouds you live in. I know I’ve not paid much attention to my children lately, involved as I was with Mamm’s death and then my planned marriage to Nancy…” When he choked on the words, he looked away.

  “You really don’t have to do this.” Laura reached for his hand again. “The Lord will provide in His own time. I know He will.”

  Daett looked strangely at her. “Those are goot words, Laura. I’ve heard you saying things like that around the house for a long time. I know what you mean by them, but you can’t hang on to John’s love forever. The Lord has spoken on the matter, and you are not to wed him. You can’t change that by your positive attitude, just as I can’t change the Lord’s decision to take your mamm home, or Nancy’s decision to jump the fence. I can choose to make right choices, and so can you—but living with one’s head in the clouds isn’t the right way. You should see Wendell again, Laura. Let him bring you home from the hymn singing. Let Deacon William speak with him. Wendell had his feelings hurt, but he can overcome that. I know you would make him a decent frau. You have a heart of gold. Wendell could use a frau like that.”

  “And so could John!” Laura exclaimed. “Even more so. John’s blind, but Wendell can pick up any girl he sets his mind to. He doesn’t need me.”

  Daett appeared troubled. “Is that what this is about? Are you still driven by guilt because you feel you were partly to blame for John’s fall?”

  “No!” Laura protested. “This isn’t about guilt. It’s about love.”

  “You have no obligations to John, Laura. You don’t have to punish yourself by marrying a man who isn’t up to supplying for his family. Just think how impossible it would be for the two of you. Where is the money going to come from for you to set up house? No bank will loan to a blind man, not if he hasn’t established himself, and John has no record of any business success.”

  “He’s trying,” Laura blurted out.

  She caught her breath. She had no proof that John was working on anything, but his character would demand such a thing. She couldn’t imagine John sitting around the house doing nothing.

  Daett shrugged. “I did hear that John is working at a harness shop, but that’s still a long way from being able to supply for a family. And kinner may come soon after the wedding. You know that. How would the two of you pay for that expense, even if the bank would loan you money for a small place?”

  The Lord will provide, Laura almost said, but she sat quietly instead.

  Daett seemed to take her silence for agreement. “It will be a long, long road back for you, Laura. You will doubtless be humbled by the Lord as you admit to Wendell that you shouldn’t have behaved the way you did, but you should begin the journey at once. Humbling is goot for the soul. Look what I will have to admit to Sherry Yoder. That the Lord took my frau, and that the woman I wanted to marry left me for an Englisha man. But that’s all part of spiritual growth. So if you agree to settle things with Wendell, I can tell Deacon William tomorrow that he may speak with the man and put this all behind us. I’m sure that Wendell will consent to bringing you home from the hymn singing again.”

  Laura stood up and stared out the window.

  “This isn’t that difficult, Laura,” Daett said. “Wendell’s a decent man. Look how…”

  “A buggy just pulled in,” Laura whispered. “I think it’s John’s parents…with John.”

  D
aett shot to his feet. “What would they want?”

  Laura didn’t answer. She had no idea. They had forbidden her from seeing John. What worse news could they bring?

  Behind them the basement door opened, and Lydia called out, “Someone’s here. Shall I go see?”

  “I’m going,” Daett answered, grabbing his coat and his tattered wool hat from a hook beside the stove. With a strange glance at Laura he hurried out of the house.

  “Who is it?” Lydia asked.

  “John’s parents,” Laura said. “I’m going upstairs.”

  Lydia’s words stopped her. “You are not! You’ll wait for them.”

  Laura took a deep breath and forced herself to walk over and stand beside her twin as they looked out the window. They saw Daett in front of the buggy, in animated conversation with John’s daett, Herman. Moments later they moved toward the house with John right behind them. He seemed to follow the sound of the footsteps on the snow, because no one paid him any special attention. Laura’s heart beat heavily in her chest. Why was John with his parents? And why had they come to visit?

  “Why are they here?” Lydia asked aloud.

  “I don’t know,” Laura managed.

  “Maybe I should go back to the basement.”

  Laura stopped Lydia this time. “Whatever they want, you should be here for it. Stay. Please.”

  “But…” Lydia began, but she stopped and seated herself on the couch instead.

  Laura stayed at the window until the last minute. She took slow steps toward the front door and opened it. Her face had no feeling in it, and her hands were cold.

  “Hello, Laura,” Hilda said in greeting. “I hope we haven’t surprised you too much on a Saturday afternoon.”

  “Well, yah, a little,” Laura stammered.

  John looked toward her from the back of the group. He wore his old smile but didn’t speak. The snowy floor of the porch spun before Laura’s eyes, and she clutched the side of the doorway.

  “I’m sorry for the suddenness of this,” Hilda said. She took Laura’s hand and led her toward the couch. Lydia stood to help, and between the two of them Laura was lowered onto the seat.

  “Well, this is quite a surprise!” Daett declared, taking his seat on the rocker again. “Why don’t you tell Laura what you told me outside?”

  “What is this about?” Laura squeaked.

  “Quite a sudden turn of events,” Herman said, peering at Laura. “Have you been praying a lot lately about you and John?”

  Laura didn’t hesitate. “Of course! I still think we—”

  Herman stopped her with a shake of his head. “There’s no sense in going into all that again. You know why we objected to the marriage between you and John, and those reasons haven’t changed. But the situation has changed. Quite changed!” Herman stopped to clear his throat. “But why don’t you tell Laura, Hilda. This is more of a woman’s thing. I don’t explain sudden changes very well.”

  Hilda gave Laura a gentle smile. “Herman makes things sound too complicated. What has happened is that last week, we began receiving letters from other Amish communities. Most of them are from the parents of schoolchildren, but also some from their grandparents. All of the letters contain money, and a few have large sums in them. We went to Deacon William about the matter in the middle of this week, and he checked the story with several schoolchildren in his district. It seems that Teacher Nancy—before she left, of course…” Hilda paused to glance at Daett. “I’m sorry, but it’s a part of the story I can’t leave out.” Daett nodded and Hilda continued. “Anyway, Teacher Nancy had her schoolchildren write to all of their relatives and friends explaining the accident and how John and Laura couldn’t marry since he was blind now, even though they still loved each other. The schoolchildren asked if anyone would be willing to help the young couple with startup funds so they could continue their relationship and eventually marry.”

  “Enough money has come in to buy a small farm, with some left over,” Herman said. “We take this as a sign from the Lord that He is indeed blessing the union.”

  “And the letters are still coming,” Hilda added.

  The living room was swimming before her eyes, but Laura forced herself to listen as the murmur of Hilda’s voice continued. Something about the sum of money and what could be done with the amount, and how settled they would be with a farm all paid for.

  With shaky legs Laura stood, and John rose to his feet to meet her. Laura rushed forward and almost fell into his arms. John was everything she remembered. He was strong, and tender, and handsome. She looked up into this face and stroked his smooth chin. He still smelled of lye soap, wool shirts, and hay in the barn. Only the smell of leather was added. She buried her face in his chest and wept silently.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  A fresh snowstorm had blown in on the evening before Nancy’s planned wedding. She peered out the living room window of her small home to see the drifts gathered in her driveway. Thankfully the worst of the storm had passed.

  She looked out onto Ward Road and saw a snowplow working its way northward. That would clear a path on the blacktop, but it would do her driveway little goot. How would Charles pull in to pick her up for the ride into Ogdensburg?

  Deacon William usually brought down a team of horses and a homemade snow scraper to open both her driveway and the school’s out on Highway 184. If Deacon William couldn’t see to the job himself, he always sent one of his cousins. But no one from the community had been by since she had made her decision to jump the fence. They certainly wouldn’t arrive to help out on her wedding morning.

  She would have to traipse through the drifts in her wedding dress. The predicament was all her fault. The wedding should have taken place in December, the way Charles had wanted. But she had made him wait another month. Why? So she could catch her breath before she made the final plunge into the Englisha world.

  Charles had tried to understand. He was that kind of a man. He would also patiently bear the bad weather this morning, even with snowdrifts in her driveway, and even if she had to march through them in her wedding dress. Maybe she should wear her everyday dress and change at Charles’s house in Ogdensburg?

  But she had asked Charles for enough. After all, he could have chosen an easier woman to marry. But he hadn’t, so she would cling to that thought and be thankful. Charles loved her and she loved him. Her heart raced when he was with her, more than it ever had when she dated Yost.

  Back then they had both been young, and the whole world had lain before them. Now she was considerably older…but young enough that there might still be time for kinner. Though Charles had a daughter, Lisa, who would live with them, he would be open to kinner of their own. She hadn’t dared bring up the subject with him, less she turn all sorts of colors. She knew the Englisha were more open to discussing such subjects, but she wasn’t Englisha…yet.

  By tonight she supposed she would be considered Englisha. She would be Charles’s frau. This morning was the last she would see of her home, or even think of it as home. She hadn’t packed any of the dishes yet, but there was no need to. Charles had a well-stocked house in Ogdensburg, so they would deal with her things after the wedding and the honeymoon. Together. As man and wife. She would place the small farm in Charles’s name before they tried to sell it. It was in the middle of Amish country, but the community wouldn’t buy from her. They would buy from Charles—after thoughtful deliberations and plenty of grumblings, of course. She knew her people, and in the end they would buy the property if it was in Charles’s name.

  Nancy slipped into her kitchen with a smile on her face. She had been right about Laura Mast and John Yoder. Deacon William couldn’t help being impressed with the letters she had helped the schoolchildren write to their relatives. Especially considering the results. Even in her wildest dreams she hadn’t expected that much of a response—but she had known her people were compassionate and tenderhearted. And now Laura and John were in the middle of wedding preparations.
She didn’t know for sure, but she could predict that Laura would push for a wedding soon, likely this spring. Nancy wouldn’t be invited, but she had been involved. No one could change that, but neither must she obsess over her past. She couldn’t always be the ex-Amish woman. She would be Mrs. Nancy Wiseman by tonight. Thankfully her German accent was toned down from her years of teaching school.

  “You will pass as my wife easily,” Charles had assured her. “You already sound like an educated woman.”

  She had smiled and given him a hug. “I’m not sure about that,” she had said.

  Charles hadn’t pushed the point further. “I love you, Nancy. Just remember that.”

  She had melted in his arms, and held on to him for a long time. By tonight she would be his frau, snowstorm or no snowstorm, drifts or no drifts. And the past would be the past. She would manage the future somehow. In the present she should shovel a path from the house to the barn and from there out to the lane. If she began at once, she could finish, clean up, and be presentable by the time Charles picked her up at 11:30. Amish life had always been about hard work. She might as well go out with the routine she knew so well.

  Nancy hurried into the bedroom and changed into her chore dress. The rips and tears had been patched multiple times. But who would see her this morning? The dress would stay behind when she’d leave with Charles in a few hours, as would all her Amish clothing. The break would be clean. She was determined and had taken the time to prepare herself. Once Charles saw her full transformation, he would appreciate the late wedding date.

  Nancy removed her warmest winter coat from the hook in the closet and slipped it on. She found the snow shovel in the corner of the washroom. With a gentle nudge she opened the front door. A cloud of snow drifted down from the eaves of the house, and Nancy wiped her gloved hand across her face. The wetness of the flakes stung. She paused for a moment to clean off the steps in front of her.