Blessings

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  The sermon continued, the minister’s droning voice addressing the congregation, and Graham finally found words to pray. Father God, help me understand Your will for Trina and me. I believe we’re to be married, yet she believes she is meant to be more than a wife and mother. Reveal Your will to us, and give us the courage to follow it, whatever it may be.

  As he closed the silent thought, an image of Trina the night of the shucking flashed through his mind. She’d stood on the edge of the porch riser, her face sad, as she’d told him it wasn’t the pursuit of education that had changed her. Now he pondered the statement. If it wasn’t studying that had changed her, then what?

  Before he could find the answer, the minister instructed the worshippers to kneel for prayer. Graham knelt, rested his linked hands on the hard bench, and lowered his head. As the minister prayed aloud, Graham formed his own prayer: Help me help Trina find her way back to the way she used to be. Help me help her find her happiness again.

  Beth stood beside the car and waited for Sean to open her door. Before sliding into the seat, she rose up on tiptoe and gave him a kiss on the jaw to say thank you for the courtesy. Fastening her seat belt, she smiled, enjoying the way Sean made her feel like a lady with his gentlemanly gestures. She’d married a jewel.

  Sean plopped in behind the wheel and started the engine. He glanced at her and grinned. “What’re you smiling about over there?”

  “Oh, just thinking about how lucky I am to have you for a husband.” She reached across the console to take his hand. “I love you, Sean.” Having been raised by a single mother, Beth hadn’t witnessed the give-and-take relationship between a husband and wife during her growing-up years. Yet she sensed what she and Sean had was better than many. Maybe better than most, despite the frequent separations due to his job obligations. She gave his hand a squeeze.

  He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles and angled the car onto the highway. “I love you, too, darlin’. But what brought that on?”

  Beth shrugged, squinting against the high sun. “Nothing special, I suppose. It’s just been awhile since I said it, so I figured it was time.”

  His low-toned chuckle made her smile. “Well, I never get tired of hearing it.”

  With a grin, she singsonged, “I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

  His laughter covered the words. “You’re a nut.” But he said it affectionately. “So what are we doing for lunch today? Want to drive to McPherson?”

  “No. Remember? Mom invited us over.” Beth frowned. “I think she also invited Troy and Deborah and their kids. So things could get a little tense.”

  Sean shot her a sympathetic look. “They still mad about Trina using our computer?”

  Beth nodded grimly.

  “Well,” Sean said in an I-told-you-so voice, “it shouldn’t surprise you. It isn’t as if you don’t know the rules of the sect.”

  Pursing her lips, Beth refused to respond. Yes, she knew the rules. She also thought they were silly. Her mother had explained the reasoning behind the restrictions of the Old Order Mennonite group, but Beth still couldn’t see the harm in wearing up-to-date clothes, driving a sporty vehicle, or getting a college education.

  Sean’s fingers tightened on her hand. “They’ll get over it eventually. Don’t let it bother you.”

  Beth sighed, shifting in the seat to face her husband. “I really don’t care that they’re mad at me. We don’t have any kind of relationship anyway, so I’m not losing anything with their anger. I am concerned about how it will affect Mom, and I’m mostly concerned about Trina. She’s just so. . .so sad all the time.”

  Sean nodded. “But don’t you think she’ll get over it, too, in time? I mean, you wanted to open a big boutique and it didn’t work out. You’re still happy, aren’t you?”

  “Well, of course I am. But I’m doing what God designed me to do—I believe the art studio is His will for me.” Beth released a huff of aggravation. “Trina isn’t being given a choice to find God’s will. She’s just being forced to do her parents’ will. That isn’t right.”

  “Well. . .” Sean nibbled the lower edge of his mustache as he turned the vehicle onto Highway 56.

  Beth yanked her hand from his and folded her arms across her chest. “What do you mean, ‘Well. . .’?”

  “Honey, don’t get testy. Don’t you think we’ve argued enough over Trina?”

  At his reasonable tone, Beth melted a bit. “I don’t want to argue. But she’s my friend. I care about her. I want to see the bubbly, cheerful, full-of-life Trina return. And as long as people are trying to force her into a role she isn’t meant to fill, we might never see that side of her again.”

  Sean shook his head. “I don’t know, Beth. I understand what you’re saying, but you have to remember these people have a lot of rules to live by, and those rules are important to them. I don’t see how Trina would have been completely happy going through with her plans if it meant censure from the community and her family.”

  Beth sat in silence, digesting Sean’s statement. All the years her mother had spent away from Sommerfeld were years of censure. She knew there were times her mother had been sad, even though she had tried to hide it. Now that she was back in Sommerfeld, living as an accepted member of the fellowship, her contentment was evident. Maybe Sean was right, and it was best that Trina didn’t pursue veterinary training without her family’s approval.

  Sean patted her hand. “Beth, I admire your concern for Trina. But what you’re suggesting means breaking a generations-long rule. I don’t see that happening.”

  “I don’t, either,” Beth said, sorrow rising with the recognition. “But it just seems to me that people should be more important than rules.”

  Sean brought the car to a stop in front of Henry and Marie Braun’s bungalow. Beth looked out the window and released a sigh. Troy Muller’s car was parked along the curb.

  “We don’t have to go in, you know,” Sean said.

  Beth grimaced. “Yes, we do. Mom’s expecting us. And I want to see Theo and Dori. I don’t get enough time with them.” Just thinking about spending time with her twin siblings gave her heart a lift.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Beth met Sean by the hood of the car, and they linked hands as they walked up to the porch. Without bothering to knock, Beth pushed the screen door open and called, “Hey, where are the munchkins?”

  The patter of feet on hardwood floors told of the twins’ approach, and Beth laughed as she crouched down to catch the giggling toddlers.

  “Whiz–beff! Whiz–beff!” the dark-haired pair chorused, clinging to Beth’s neck and trying to climb onto her knees. Their childish attempts to pronounce her given name of Lisbeth made Beth laugh.

  “What about me?” Sean asked, and the two immediately abandoned Beth to reach chubby hands to Sean.

  Beth straightened as her mother approached, arms outstretched. “Hi, Mom.” Beth returned Mom’s hug then smiled at Henry, who entered the room. “Hi, Dad.” She released her mother to accept her stepfather’s hug, relishing the freedom of stepping into his embrace without embarrassment. “Are we late?”

  Henry captured Theo, and Mom scooped up a wriggling Dori. On the way to the kitchen, Henry spoke over his shoulder. “We were ready to strap the twins into their highchairs when they heard you, so you’re just in time.”

  Mom added, “Troy and Deborah are already here with Tony and Trina.”

  Beth shot Sean a quick look, and he slung his arm across her shoulders. They entered the kitchen, and Beth pasted on a smile as she let her gaze drift over each member of the Muller family. None of them smiled back. Not even Trina. Beth’s stomach clenched.

  Henry had put an extra leaf in the table to accommodate the guests. Beth and Sean sat next to Trina on one side of the table, with Troy, Deborah, and Tony on the opposite side. Mom and Henry each swung a twin into a waiting highchair; then they sat down, and everyone joined hands for Henry’s prayer. Beth noticed Trina’s hand felt moist, and i
t trembled. Her heart lurched in sympathy. Why couldn’t her family see the harm they were inflicting?

  Henry ended the prayer with “Amen,” and Theo immediately began pounding on his highchair tray. Henry caught the little boy’s hands. “Patience, son.” Theo obediently clasped his hands and waited.

  Serving bowls circled the table, and spoons clacked food onto plates. The smell of roast beef, carrots, and potatoes was tantalizing, but Beth had a hard time swallowing, aware of the steely glares coming from Troy and Deborah.

  Trina, on her left, pushed the food around her plate rather than eating, her head downcast, her voice silent as conversation took place between the older adults. Sean contributed occasionally, but the cotton in Beth’s mouth kept her silent, as well.

  “So, Beth,” Henry said as he buttered a crusty roll, “when do you plan to add the showroom to the studio?”

  Beth put down her fork. “We had hoped to get the construction started next spring, but we may put it off a bit longer. I need to have two more employees in place to help with the windows before I can even think about additional projects for the showroom.”

  “But the Internet sales are going well on the suncatchers, aren’t they?” Henry took a bite, his attentive gaze on Beth’s face.

  “They’re going great,” Sean answered for Beth, giving her hand a squeeze. The pride in his voice made Beth smile. “Not to mention the consigned pieces she ships all over the United States.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re overly busy.” Troy’s stern voice carried over the twins’ cheerful jabber. “What with making fancy church windows, too.”

  Beth forced herself to meet the man’s gaze. She didn’t really care if she offended Troy, but she wanted to avoid conflict for her mother’s sake, so she tempered her voice when she replied. “I am busy, but if I want to have a successful business, it means meeting demands. I don’t begrudge the time it takes.”

  Sean inserted, “She’s incredibly talented, and people are recognizing it more and more. It’s been a joy to see how God is using her abilities.”

  Troy harrumphed.

  “I think she also serves a purpose in the community,” Sean continued.

  Beth stared at him. Not one to seek confrontation, Sean almost seemed to be goading Troy.

  “How so?” Troy barked the question.

  Sean shrugged. “She employs four people from Sommerfeld now. As the studio grows, she’ll be able to offer employment to more young people. I would think that would be preferable to having them drive out of town to find work.”

  Troy lifted his water glass and took a sip. He thumped the glass onto the table. “Maybe, but how long can she keep it going?”

  Sean opened his mouth to reply, but Beth put her hand on his knee under the table. “The studio is my life’s calling. I have no plans to close it or do anything else. Unless, of course, God opens a different door to me.”

  “Like motherhood?”

  Beth heard Trina’s sharp intake of breath at her father’s brusque question. Suddenly Beth felt as though she was being used as a bad example to Trina, and heat filled her face. “I don’t see how one affects the other.”

  Mom stood, lifting the almost-empty roast platter, and cleared her throat. “I’ll get these serving bowls out of the way, and we can have dessert. I made cherry pie. Who would like ice cream with it?”

  Troy acted as though Mom hadn’t spoken. “If you have a child, you’ll still work every day at the studio, just as you’ve been doing?”

  “Of course I will.” Beth raised her shoulders in a shrug. “My mother worked all during my growing-up years. I learned to be independent and responsible as a result. That’s not to say every mother should take a job outside of the home, but I don’t see anything wrong with it.” She gestured toward Deborah. “Even Mrs. Muller has the café, and she has children. It’s worked out all right for you, hasn’t it?”

  Deborah flapped her jaw, surprising Beth with her lack of response. When had she ever seen Deborah Muller speechless?

  “But my wife stayed at home with her children until they were grown,” Troy argued. “She now has the café so our Trina would have a safe place to work, and she also hires other Sommerfeld young people. Her café serves a purpose in the community.”

  “As does my studio,” Beth said. “And as would. . .” Her gaze drifted sideways briefly to Trina, who sat staring at Beth with wide, disbelieving eyes. She faced Troy Muller again. “As would having a certified veterinarian right here in town.”

  FIFTEEN

  Trina gasped at Beth’s boldness. Dad’s face blazed red. Mama looked as though she’d swallowed something bitter. Tony stared at his empty plate, his lips twitching. Uncle Henry and Aunt Marie gawked at each other across the table as if uncertain what to do. Only the twins seemed oblivious to the tension in the room, pushing against their highchair trays and complaining to be released. Uncle Henry lifted them in turn from their chairs, and they scampered around the corner, giggling. An apprehensive silence fell in their wake.

  Oh, Beth, please don’t say anything else, Trina’s thoughts begged, but a glance at her friend confirmed her worst fears—Beth had only gotten started.

  Aunt Marie also must have suspected Beth had more to say, because she leaned forward and spoke loudly. “So are we ready for that pie now?”

  Everyone around the table jumped and stared at Aunt Marie. Beth stood up, and all heads swiveled to look at her. Had the moment been less stressful, Trina might have laughed—everyone moved as if their heads were attached to a single string, being pulled here and then there in unison.

  “Thank you, Mom, but I think I’ll pass on the dessert. Sean and I will go. But before I do, I have to say something to Mr. and Mrs. Muller.”

  Trina held her breath, her fists balled so tightly her fingernails dug into the tender flesh of her palms. Beth’s hand clamped over her shoulder, and Trina looked up. Tears glittered in her friend’s eyes.

  “Trina is special. I’ve known that from the first time I met her. She had a joy that was contagious—she lit a room. I know you all saw it, too.” She met Trina’s gaze for a moment, her lips turned down sadly. “And I know you also see that now. . .the joy is gone.” Beth’s sigh brought a sting of tears to Trina’s eyes. “I miss it. I miss the real Trina—the bouncy, cheerful girl she used to be.”

  Trina dared a quick glance across the table. Dad’s jaw muscles twitched, and Mama’s chin quivered. Were those tears in Mama’s eyes?

  “You’ve taken it out of her with your inability to see beyond your narrow views. We were talking earlier about service to the community. A veterinarian in Sommerfeld would be a tremendous service. Half of your residents depend on livestock for their livelihoods. Think what good it would do them to have someone close at hand to take care of their animals as needed.”

  Beth’s voice, although low in tone, trembled with fervor. “That in itself should be reason enough to give Trina a chance to become a veterinarian. But there’s a deeper reason. She believes God has placed that calling on her heart. Who are we to say He didn’t?”

  “A woman’s calling is to be a wife and a mother.” Dad spoke in a firm, flat tone.

  “And,” Beth said, “sometimes something else, too. Like an artist. Or a terrific cook, like Mrs. Muller. Or. . .” Once more she looked tenderly into Trina’s face. “A caregiver for God’s lowly creatures.” Turning to face Dad, Beth said, “Being a wife and mother is a very important calling, Mr. Muller, but it doesn’t have to be a woman’s only calling.”

  Beth took hold of Trina’s chin and aimed her face toward Dad. “Look at your daughter. It breaks my heart to see her in so much pain, and she’s just my friend. She’s your child. How can you look at her and not respond to her heartache?”

  Trina pulled loose and ducked her head. She didn’t want to look at Dad right now, to see anger instead of compassion, condemnation instead of understanding. Beth’s fingers on her shoulder tightened for a moment and then slipped away, leaving
Trina feeling cold and alone.

  “Mr. Muller, I know you think I’m impudent.” Beth released a light, humorless chuckle. “Maybe I am. But what I’ve said has been out of love for Trina.”

  Dad came out of his seat, pointing a finger at Beth. “Trina was just fine before you came along and opened your studio and put crazy ideas in her head. Well, she won’t be spending time with you anymore, so your influence will fade away. Then our Trina will come back. She will honor her father and mother just as the Bible commands her to, and she will be happy in the decision.”

  Dad grabbed Mama’s arm and pulled her up. He shot a look from Uncle Henry to Aunt Marie. “I thank you for the good dinner, but we need to go home. Come on, Tony, Trina. Let’s go.”

  “Thanks for dinner, Mom. Everything was good.” Graham pushed away from the table.

  His brother, Chuck, shoved his last bite of cake into his mouth and spoke around it. “Want to play some checkers?”

  Normally Graham would jump at the chance to trample Chuck in a checker match, but today his heart wasn’t in games. He felt burdened from the thoughts that had attacked during worship service, and he needed time to be alone and process all of the emotions warring for release.

  “Sorry, Chuck. I’m going to head on home.”

  Mom looked up, disappointment on her face. “You aren’t staying to visit?”

  Graham fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. “Not today.”

  “And you’re going to your house?”

  Mom’s sharp tone caught Graham’s full attention. “Yes. Why?”

  Mom sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I hoped you might be going to visit Trina. She’s looked so forlorn the last couple of weeks. Makes me feel sad for her.” Mom tipped her head, one black ribbon slipping along her cheek. “You’re still courting, aren’t you?”

  Graham clutched the back of his chair, his head low. He knew how much his family liked Trina—Mom especially—and he didn’t want to upset her by saying he was no longer courting Trina. Yet saying yes might give her false hope that things were okay between them. He wasn’t sure what would happen as far as Trina was concerned, despite how his heart still ached with loving her.