Blessings

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  NINE

  Hi, sweetheart.” Beth set the paper bag she was carrying onto the kitchen table and opened her arms for Sean’s hug. “I didn’t expect to see you until late this evening.” He had left before dawn that morning for Kansas City to meet his father and representatives from a church in Olathe.

  “The meeting ended early.”

  “Did they like your plans?” Beth knew Sean had worried over the drawings of the church addition, mixed messages from various committee members making it difficult to pinpoint their exact needs.

  He sighed, his breath stirring her hair. “Back to the drawing board.”

  “Oh, hon, I’m sorry.” She burrowed closer. “And then you come home to no wife and no dinner started.”

  “That’s okay.” Sean nuzzled her ear, his hands roaming up and down her spine. “If nothing else, we’ll walk to the café and grab something there.”

  “It’s Wednesday—they close at three, remember?” With a gentle push against his chest, she freed herself, reaching up to tousle his thick red-blond hair. “But I can throw together some grilled cheese sandwiches and open a bagged salad.” She didn’t pretend to be a good homemaker, and so far Sean hadn’t complained. Of course, they were still in their honeymoon period. Sometimes she wondered how he could bear to leave her as often as he did with his business travels, and other times she savored the privacy.

  Sean crossed his arms and yawned. “So where’ve you been? I called the studio to let you know I was on my way. Andrew said you’d left early, but you didn’t answer the cell.”

  Beth crinkled her nose. “I left it at home—sorry.” She moved to the sack and reached inside. “I went to an auction in Carston this afternoon. They’d advertised a Depression-era bedroom suite. I thought if I could get it reasonably, I’d fill up the second bedroom.”

  Sean came up behind her and curled his hands over her shoulders. “I take it you didn’t get it?”

  “Nope. Went higher than I wanted to spend. But”—she lifted a stack of books from the sack—“I got all of these for a dollar.” She laid the books across the table, brushing the covers with her fingertips. “Look—high school textbooks. They’re outdated, but they’re better than nothing.” Trina would be delighted with her find.

  Sean reached to pick one up, a frown on his face. “Algebra.” He looked at the others on the table. “American history, geometry, and earth science? What are you going to do with these?”

  Beth laughed, rising on tiptoe to deliver a quick smack on his lips. “They’re for Trina so she can prepare for her GED.”

  Sean’s frown deepened. “So you’re helping her, huh?”

  She shot him a sharp look. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”

  He sighed, plopping the book back onto the table. “You know how the Old Order Mennonite feel about higher education. Letting Trina explore on the Internet is one thing, but buying her books so she can prepare for a GED? That’s overstepping some pretty big boundaries, Beth.”

  Beth took a step back and gawked at her husband. “So I should leave her floundering alone? The poor kid is getting trampled from every direction—her parents, her boyfriend, even Andrew, who should know better than to stomp on somebody’s dream. Someone needs to offer a helping hand.”

  “Now don’t get all defensive on me.” Sean reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She jerked her head away from his touch. He clamped his jaw for a moment then dropped his hand. “Stop and think about it, Beth. We already have trouble fitting in around here since we aren’t Mennonite or Amish. Do you want to give the community another reason to distrust us?”

  “I’m not going to let their attitudes dictate what I do,” Beth protested. “Trina’s a smart girl with a lot of ambition. It isn’t fair that she can’t pursue veterinary school if she wants to.”

  “It might not be fair,” Sean countered, “but we don’t write the rules. And I’m afraid you’re going to open a can of worms if you get involved.”

  Beth opened her mouth to argue, but Sean placed his fingers over her lips.

  “No, let’s don’t fight about this.” He slipped his arms around her again, drawing her close. She allowed his embrace but held her body stiff, still disgruntled with him. He murmured into her ear. “I’m tired and hungry. Let’s drive into McPherson or Newton and get some supper, relax, and talk about nothing, okay?”

  Sean’s hands roved gently over her back, reminding her how much she had missed him during his absence. Beth relented, relaxing into Sean’s embrace. “All right. That sounds good. Let me change my shirt, though—I got really sweaty out in the sun.” She lifted her face for his kiss then headed to their bedroom to change.

  “I’ll put these books back in the bag,” Sean called after her, “and put them on the utility porch.”

  She sighed. “Fine.” Out of sight, out of mind, she supposed. She didn’t want to fight with her husband, but Trina was the first person in Sommerfeld to befriend her. She owed the girl something. If that something turned out to be assistance in seeing her dreams become reality, then Sean would just have to accept it.

  Trina slammed the book shut and released a strangled groan. From the computer, Beth looked over her shoulder.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Algebra. Rational expressions, factoring, complex numbers. All I had in school was add, subtract, divide, and multiply. None of this stuff makes sense to me!” She put her forehead on the books. The musty smell of the old textbook filled her nostrils, reminding her of the generations-long rules of the Old Order community. Who did she think she was, trying to change the traditions? “Maybe I should just forget it.”

  A hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her upright. She looked up into Beth’s stern face.

  “Trina Muller, I never took you for a quitter.”

  “But, Beth,” Trina said, “it’s pointless! Even if Mama and Dad do say it’s okay, I’ll never pass the test.” Flopping the book open, she pointed to a problem. “Look at this! If x-y = 1, and 2x-y = 5, then what are x and y?” She clenched her fists. “I don’t know!”

  Beth sat down next to Trina and looked at the problems in the book. She sighed, sending Trina an apologetic look. “I took algebra in high school, but it was a long time ago. I’m afraid I don’t remember a lot about the formal steps involved in resolving algebraic equations, but I know with this we can do a little simple problem-solving and find the answer.”

  “How?” The feeling of hopelessness made Trina want to cry. For the past week, she’d spent her late evenings holed up in her room reading the history and science books Beth had purchased. Those subjects were interesting, almost like reading stories or taking a walk through nature, and she’d enjoyed them. But neither algebra nor geometry was enjoyable. Certainly both mathematics areas would be on the GED test, and Trina would have to master them in order to pass. She blinked back tears. “Can you show me?”

  Beth picked up Trina’s pencil. “Look. You know in each of the equations, x and y have to be the same number. So let’s just explore. Start with 2-1, which equals 1. Put the 2 for x and the 1 for y in the second equation. Does it work?”

  Trina frowned at the problem. “No.”

  “Okay, then go to the next two sets of numbers that will equal one–3-2.”

  Trina worked her way through Beth’s system. When she tried 4 for x and 3 for y, both problems worked. She clapped her hands and crowed, “Success!” Her euphoria lasted only moments, however; an entire page of problems—more complex than the one she’d just solved—waited. She wilted again. Looking at Beth, she implored, “Tell me again I can do this.”

  Beth caught one of Trina’s string ties and tickled her nose with it. “You can do this! I believe in you!”

  Tears of gratitude flooded Trina’s eyes. “Thank you, Beth. It means so much to have you encouraging me. I just wish I had a private teacher—what is that called?”

  “A tutor.”

  “Yes, a tutor. But I don’t kn
ow anyone in town who’s had this kind of math.”

  Beth flicked a glance into the front room, where her husband sat watching television. Trina’s heart skipped a beat. Sean McCauley drew blueprints for elaborate buildings. Surely he was familiar with these different types of mathematics. She waited for Beth to ask him to help, but instead she turned back to Trina.

  “Well, it isn’t as if you have to know the whole book to pass the test,” Beth said. “There will be basic math and a spattering of the higher-level mathematics. If you do well on the other parts, then a so-so score on the math part should still let you pass.”

  “Do you really think so?” Trina pressed both palms to her stomach. “When I think about taking that test, I start to feel queasy.”

  “And how do you feel when you consider not taking the test and giving up?”

  Trina’s lips trembled into a weak smile. “Queasy.”

  Beth laughed. “So you might as well feel queasy and forge forward, huh?” She tapped the book. “Study. Do at least five of these.” She got up and returned to the computer.

  With a sigh, Trina got back to work. It took nearly half an hour to work five problems, and she was almost relieved when the telephone rang and Beth held it out to her.

  “It’s your brother.”

  Trina took the phone. “Hello?”

  “Mom said to call and have you come home.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I think she’s upset about all the time you’ve been spending over at the McCauleys’ lately. Might want to step careful when you get here.”

  Trina stifled a sigh. Never demonstrative, Mama had been downright cold to her ever since she started working with Dr. Groening. Between Mama’s chilly treatment and Graham’s avoidance, Trina carried a constant heartache. She said, “Maybe I’ll swing by the park and pick her a few daisies. That usually cheers her up.”

  “Okay.” Tony brought his voice back to full volume. “See you in a few minutes.”

  Trina handed the telephone back to Beth. “I have to go—Mama’s missing me.”

  Beth smiled. “Well, you have been spending a lot of time here. She’s used to seeing you all day, every day. I imagine she does miss you.”

  Trina forced a light chuckle as she gathered up her papers and pencils. “Probably mostly she just wonders what I’m up to over here.”

  Sean pushed off from the sofa and walked to the wide doorway between the front room and dining room. “You haven’t told your parents yet?”

  Trina glanced up and caught Beth and Sean exchanging a quick, tense look. She shook her head slowly. “No. I’m going to wait until I’ve passed the GED and have been accepted into a college program.”

  Sean leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms across his chest. “Was that Beth’s advice?”

  Beth shot Sean a look that made Trina gulp.

  “Um, no. Actually, Beth advised the opposite—to just come right out and tell them what I’m doing. But I want to wait.” She observed Sean’s expression change to approving, and Beth’s mouth unpursed. Uncomfortable with the silent messages being sent back and forth between the pair, Trina snatched up her things and bustled toward the door. “Thanks again for the help, Beth. I’ll see you tomorrow. . . maybe.” She closed the door behind her and stepped into the humid air of midevening.

  Instead of going directly home, Trina headed for the area dubbed “the park” by Sommerfeld’s young people. Just an empty lot where a livery barn had burned down almost twenty years ago, the area now sported halfhearted grass, a spattering of wildflowers, and a crude picnic table and benches constructed out of scrap lumber by a couple of boys learning to use their fathers’ tools.

  The farmers’ market sellers used the area, as did young people on pleasant evenings for a place to gather and talk. Trina hoped a handful of daisies, her mother’s favorite flower, might stave off an unpleasant series of questions concerning her frequent evenings spent with Beth McCauley. Mama had warmed considerably toward Beth since Uncle Henry, Mama’s younger brother, had married Beth’s mother, but she still didn’t approve of Beth’s non-Mennonite lifestyle. Anyone who wasn’t Mennonite was suspect, as far as Mama was concerned.

  Trina rounded the corner toward the park and heard laughter. She slowed her steps, turning her ear toward the various voices drifting across the warm summer breeze. The high-pitched giggle belonged to Darcy Kauffman. Wherever one found Darcy, Michelle Lapp was nearby. Michelle had acted sweet on Graham’s best friend, Walt Martin, for quite some time, and Walt had recently begun responding, so that masculine rumble no doubt came from Walt’s throat.

  Previously the café had kept Trina too busy in the evenings to spend much time with friends. Now, studying for her GED had curtailed her social time. The thought of catching a few minutes of chatting with Michelle, Darcy, and Walt sped her feet, and she headed around the side of the general merchandise store with a smile on her face.

  “Hello!” she called, and the group at the picnic table turned. Her smile faltered when she realized Graham was with the others.

  He leaped up from the table, where he’d been sitting next to Darcy. “Trina. . .” The word sputtered on his tongue. Then, seeming to pull himself together, he gestured toward the table. “Come join us. Michelle was telling us about her cousin’s trip to the Kansas City zoo and the antics of the chimpanzees.”

  Trina stopped several feet away from the table. She hugged the book and stack of crumpled papers tight to her pounding heart. “No, I—I can’t. Mama’s expecting me. I just wanted to pick a few daisies.”

  “I’ll help you.” Graham strode toward her, his hands outstretched. “Let me take those so you can pick flowers.”

  She shook her head, backing away from him. “No. That’s okay.”

  Darcy turned around on the bench, peering at the items in Trina’s arms. “What have you got there? A new book?”

  Reading was a favorite pastime of the Old Order young people, and they often shared new purchases with one another. But Trina knew she wouldn’t share this one. She shouldn’t have come this way. “Yes, but it’s not—not anything you’d enjoy.” She hoped Darcy would take her word for it and not ask to see the math textbook.

  Graham looked down at her, his expression unreadable. Trina begged him with her eyes to keep silent. He offered a barely discernible nod. Turning back to the group at the table, he said, “Daisies are thickest over against the Feed and Seed’s west wall. Hope your mother enjoys the bouquet.”

  Trina swallowed, called a good-bye, and hurried off. As she picked a handful of the cheerful flowers, she listened to the laughing conversation at the table. Beth’s question replayed in her mind: “Is it worth it?” Her heart heavy, she discovered the answer didn’t come as easily as she would have preferred.

  TEN

  Out of the corner of his eye, Graham watched Trina head down the sidewalk toward her house. Just seeing her created a lonely ache in his chest. Darcy and Michelle jabbered away, unaware how little he cared about their endless prattle. The only voice he wanted to hear was Trina’s, but she’d just told him his assistance wasn’t needed.

  In other words, Go away.

  He never would have thought anything would come between him and Trina, but something had. Lord, why’d I have to fall in love with her? It’s not supposed to be this hard. He sighed.

  Walt clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, didn’t you hear her?”

  Graham jerked his gaze to Walt. “What?”

  Walt laughed. “Michelle just said her mom’s got a key lime pie in the refrigerator. We’re heading over there to have a piece. You coming?”

  Graham’s favorite, and Mrs. Lapp took no shortcuts when it came to cooking. At fellowship gatherings, good-natured arguments broke out between people vying for the last slice of her pie or a second piece of her cornmeal-coated fried chicken. Graham waited for his mouth to water, but instead he felt as though cotton filled his throat. He shook his head. “That sounds good, but I need to get home.”

  Dar
cy caught his arm. “Are you sure?”

  Graham looked into Darcy’s hopeful face. She was a pretty girl with large blue eyes, thick lashes, and sunshiny hair. And she was interested in him—she let him know without being forward. He half wished some sort of feeling would rise up—even a hint of a desire to spend more time with her. But nothing happened. Pulling his lips into a rueful smile, he said, “I’m sure. Thanks anyway.”

  Darcy’s hand slipped away. She ducked her head, the white ribbons of her cap bunching against her shoulders. “If you hurry, you could still catch her.”

  Graham wasn’t sure he heard correctly. He leaned forward slightly. “What?”

  Head still downcast, she shifted her eyes to peer at him through her lashes. “I said, you could still catch her.”

  Graham jolted to his feet. Heat filled his face. “I—I—”

  Across the table, Michelle tipped her head. “Yes. What happened between you and Trina? I thought for sure you two would be getting published soon, but lately you’re never together.”

  Graham grimaced. Darcy at least tried to be tactful. Michelle had always been one to boldly state her opinions—there were times when he thought she belonged more with Trina’s mother than Trina did. Michelle and Darcy waited, their gazes fixed on Graham’s face. He formed an answer. “She’s just. . .busy.” Even to his ears, the excuse was lame, but it was the only thing he could think of.

  Darcy and Michelle exchanged looks. Michelle asked, “With what? I understood it when she worked at the café—her mother hardly gave her a moment’s rest. But now? She works in Lehigh and has every evening off. And we still don’t see her. How is she staying so busy?”

  Graham couldn’t answer that question truthfully without betraying a confidence. As much as he resented Trina’s choice to pursue a career in veterinary care, he couldn’t bring himself to divulge her secret. He shrugged, forcing a light laugh. “You know Trina. . .always up to something.” He realized his statement pertained more to the old Trina. The girl he fell in love with had been bubbly, full of life. This new one was slowly losing the sparkle. Sadness struck with the thought.