Silvia's Rose

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “Not yet, but when I do, I won’t deny it or back down. If I win an award, it will be Silvia who has won, and I will not take that honor from her, whatever the cost to me.”

  “I imagine Isaiah has already told them.” Esther sighed. “No wonder Peter and Edna accepted my supper invitation so quickly. They probably wish the bishop was coming too so they can push for your excommunication.”

  Joseph chuckled again. “I doubt if things have come to that.”

  Esther assumed a skeptical look. “If it keeps Arlene from casting her affections on you, I wouldn’t be surprised. They seem quite determined to protect the honor of their daughter.”

  “Yah, I suppose so.” Joseph looked away. “I may sound brave, Esther, but I’m not so brave on the inside. I thought all of this was behind me—people questioning me and looking at me sideways. I grew up being judged, but I forgot about all of it while Silvia loved me. Should I perhaps jump the fence and find myself a frau out there in the Englisha world?”

  “Most certainly not! Wipe such an awful thought from your mind, Joseph Zook.”

  “You support my marrying Arlene, don’t you?”

  “I suppose all of this has pushed me there faster than I thought. Arlene needs you with parents like that. I can see it now, and she does love you. Not the way Silvia did, I know, but I think we’re foolish to try and re-create what once was. You talked me out of that mistake, remember? With all that stuff about flowers that never smell the same.”

  A smile spread over Joseph’s face. “That seems like an awful long time ago. You came to the community so recently, yet it feels as if you’ve always been here.”

  “I know,” Esther agreed. “But hadn’t we better get to work? I came to help, not chat the morning away.”

  “You’re kind to offer, Esther. I’m not sure what I’d have you do, though.” Joseph smiled at Diana, who was still wrapped up in her blankets. “You look comfy enough, Diana.”

  “I am,” she said, returning his grin.

  Joseph turned back to Esther. “I appreciate your offer, Esther, but Jason is here. I have him sitting on a bucket right now washing tomatoes. We’ll be okay.”

  “Are you sure?” She eyed him skeptically.

  “I’m very sure, but thank you for your offer and your kind thoughts toward us.”

  “Well, just know I’m on your side, and so is Isaiah.”

  “I appreciate that,” he said, shuffling to the door to see them off.

  Esther rattled across the driveway and up the road again to the Kings’ house to knock on the front door. There was no sign of Peter and Edna when Dorrine appeared and asked softly, “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Esther whispered back. “But could you do me a favor and run over to Willis and Beth’s place right away and ask them to supper at my place? Please?”

  “Yah, of course.”

  “I’m so worried about tonight.”

  “Well, it will be good for you to have Isaiah and Willis there.”

  Esther nodded and hurried back out of the driveway. Her supper might help…or it might make things worse. At the moment she wasn’t sure which.

  THIRTY-TWO

  That evening Esther passed the food around the table with a bright smile on her face. She had prepared dishes she normally served Isaiah—pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, sliced corn and green beans, and fresh pecan pie. She had taken the pies out of the oven moments before Isaiah pulled into the yard. It was the Lord’s mercies that he had arrived first, and that he didn’t make a fuss when she told him about the visitors she’d invited.

  “Just help me get this mess straightened out with Joseph and Arlene,” she’d pled. “You know it’s partly my fault, and—”

  Isaiah had pinched her cheek and grinned. “Nothing is your fault, dear.”

  Her heart had pounded from those sweet words, and now it pounded even harder from the tension around the table. Peter and Edna hadn’t relaxed since they arrived. They each kept a wary eye on things right through the prayer of thanks, even after the hearty welcome Bishop Willis and Isaiah had given them. Nothing seemed to impress the two. Esther couldn’t remember them acting like this in Lancaster County, but she hadn’t known them that well and they’d lived in another district.

  Isaiah helped himself to a generous helping of mashed potatoes before he passed the bowl to Peter. Perhaps she should have started the potatoes at the other end of the table, but that would have meant passing up the bishop—the guest of honor by Amish standards. Preferential treatment for Peter might have made things worse. The man was impossible, yet it was important that Joseph receive permission to marry Arlene. Any labor on her part was well worth the effort.

  Esther gave Isaiah a quick smile when he glanced toward her, and he winked back. However, she sobered moments later when Peter’s gaze pierced her. Maybe this was what came from abandoning the practical and sensible road to marriage. Joseph wouldn’t be in a pickle either if he hadn’t loved his Englisha wife so deeply.

  Bishop Willis finally broke the silence. “It was quite nice of Esther to invite us all to supper tonight. And a real special treat too.”

  “So when was this invitation given to all of you?” Peter asked, his gaze still icy.

  Willis turned to Beth with a smile. “When did you know, dear? I was told late this afternoon. Thankfully, I learned of it before leaving for a trip into Little Falls that would have made me late for supper. It’s not every day that we get visitors from the old home districts. So, of course, I changed my plans at once.”

  Beth nodded and returned her husband’s smile. “Esther sent Dorrine over to invite us after lunch. And we gladly accepted.” She turned to Peter and Edna. “It’s so goot to get to know both of you better. A meal is the best way, rather than the church service on Sunday. We should have come up with the idea ourselves, but with all the fuss going on after Diana’s accident and now Ben’s illness, things kind of slipped my mind.”

  “Seems as though Esther has her fingers in almost everything around here,” Peter said. “And yet she’s new to the community.”

  “Just moved in,” Isaiah chirped. “And spoken for already.”

  Isaiah wasn’t being helpful, but Esther kept her smile firmly in place as she passed the corn and green beans. Peter shot insults the way Isaiah shot arrows from his bow, but she had to take the darts sent her way in goot humor. Things would only get worse if she didn’t.

  Willis cleared his throat. “Of course, the real reason we didn’t extend a supper invitation to you and Edna, Peter, is because we thought you might want to use your time here working on your daughter and Joseph’s relationship. Hopefully, what we told you when Daniel brought you around to visit was helpful, but I’m assuming that Esther knows more recent information and thought a meeting with all of us would be helpful to you. Am I guessing correctly, Esther?” He turned to her with a warm smile.

  “Yah,” Esther whispered. She could have hugged the bishop, but that would have been very inappropriate. Peter and Edna would have been out the door and on their way back to Lancaster County at a run.

  “Edna and I are finding nothing to reassure ourselves so far.” Peter sent a glare around the table. “We had hoped to find a stable community where men like Joseph could at least find solid ground and perhaps be pointed in the right direction. Instead, we’re finding a community that honors the man, even with his strange ways. I mean, Joseph is sending roses off to the Englisha world for judging, and worse than that, he apparently has great influence in this community. For example, Esther and Minister Isaiah seem to be friends with him. What are we to think of this? We cannot allow our daughter to marry such an odd man, and we are, in fact, considering asking Arlene to return home with us on Monday.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” Willis spoke up. “I’m very sorry to hear it.”

  “Can you give us any other interpretation of what we’ve found?” Peter asked. “To confuse matters further, Esther makes supper for us and invites everyo
ne over to this strange courtship ritual she and Isaiah have embarked upon—dating on Friday nights by cooking supper and eating together as a family—all while holy marriage vows have not been said. This is quite indecent in our opinion. Has Joseph perhaps had a hand in this also?”

  All eyes turned to Isaiah. “I…I don’t think so. Esther invited me for supper soon after she came, but I never heard where she got the idea.”

  “So Esther asked you for a date like Englisha women do?” Peter half rose from his seat.

  “That’s not how it was,” Isaiah objected.

  Peter clearly didn’t believe him. “I have never heard of anything like this! And from a minister? What has our world come to, that we are exposed to these awful Englisha influences?”

  The bishop spoke up. “Peter, I’m sure you’re not seeing things in quite the correct light. I know Isaiah, and I was here the first evening when Esther came. They knew each other from way back, and you could clearly see that Isaiah was quite taken with her. There was no question of Esther starting anything. I can assure you of that.”

  “Is this true?” Peter turned to Isaiah.

  “I made my intentions very clear to her,” Isaiah replied. “Don’t blame her for beginning our relationship.” He turned to reassure Esther with a smile.

  “Why did she move to the valley in the first place?” Peter leaned forward to ask.

  “I assume because she thought she liked our little community,” Willis said, attempting a smile of his own.

  “But as usual none of you know what Esther is up to,” Peter snapped.

  Silence greeted his observation.

  “Why did you move out here, Esther?” Peter asked, addressing her directly.

  Esther turned to face him, her cheeks aflame. “I suppose I wanted a new start, or rather…” She clamped her mouth shut. She was not about to share her innermost secrets with a man who would only shred them into an unrecognizable mass.

  “Go on,” Peter insisted.

  Esther got up to bring the pecan pies to the table. “I think it’s time for dessert, don’t you?”

  No one laughed.

  “I would like my question answered,” Peter continued. “I have a right to know. Did you move here knowing that Isaiah had an interest in you? Did you two write each other?”

  “We did not,” Isaiah said. “As far as I am concerned, Esther was guided by the Lord’s hand. She is a righteous and just woman.”

  Peter ignored the praise. “So Esther came on her own.”

  No one answered.

  “Esther’s goot food is going to waste,” Willis said, “while we’re fussing worse than schoolchildren.”

  “I want honesty. That’s all,” Peter insisted. “And I’m getting nothing but the royal runaround. Before I leave tonight, you’ll have me believing that Joseph has persuaded your courting minister to come around with roses and flowers in hand. At least I’ll be spared the blow of learning that your leaders practice the ways of the world, when the old-fashioned love of our fathers has always produced a marriage and kinner in the will of the Lord.” Peter fixed his gaze on each person in turn, stopping with Isaiah, whose face had also blazed red.

  Willis chuckled. “I’m sure Isaiah is no flower minister. He’s a faithful and caring man, but he can show that to Esther and Diana without flowers. I’m sure he…” The bishop paused and laughed at the thought.

  Esther didn’t move. She had no blood left in her veins. This was all her fault, and now Isaiah would soon be publicly shamed.

  Peter’s gaze was still fixed on Isaiah’s face. “I’m thinking you might be wrong, Bishop. What do you have to say for yourself, Isaiah?”

  “I brought some wildflowers from my land to Esther in a bouquet,” Isaiah admitted. “And some roses after Diana’s accident. I do not think that is wrong, and hopefully Bishop Willis won’t either.”

  Peter bowed his head for a moment. “This is a sad evening indeed. It makes no difference to me if you can persuade your bishop to support you or not, Isaiah. I will not accept these Englisha practices or give my word to my daughter’s marriage to a man who lives in such a community. If that causes trouble for anyone, I am sorry. Perhaps someday you will thank me, Bishop, for exposing this weakness in your district. You know that the Englisha sneak in like wolves in sheep’s clothing. I have smelled a wolf ever since we received Arlene’s letter. Now we find out that your own minister has been deeply influenced by this Joseph Zook. I don’t envy you, Bishop. You have a lot of housecleaning in front of you. That’s all I can say.”

  Silence settled in the kitchen, broken only by the tinkle of forks as everyone tried to eat. Tears stung Esther’s eyes. No one made an attempt at cheerfulness, and her pecan pie was barely touched.

  Peter and Edna stood the minute the bishop said the final prayer of thanks. “We really should be going,” Peter said. “We have to start packing tonight, and we will be on the road first thing in the morning. Arlene will go with us. I thought you all should know, but I do want to say that we carry no hard feelings against any of you.”

  “Surely something can be done about this,” Willis tried again. “I know that bouquets of flowers are not the ordinary thing in a time of courtship, but I can see nothing here that we should be ashamed of.” He glanced hopefully toward Isaiah.

  “I agree.” Isaiah said, but the damage had clearly been done.

  “We really have to be going.” Peter looked at Esther. “Thank you for supper.”

  “You’re welcome.” She nearly choked on the words.

  Peter gave her a final nod on the way out of the kitchen, his arm around Edna as if the wolves were already on their heels.

  What was left now? Isaiah’s reputation would suffer from the embarrassment he had undergone at her supper table. Here she had tried to help Joseph and ended up dragging herself and Isaiah down with him.

  “I should be going too.” Isaiah stood.

  Esther followed him to the front door. “I’m so sorry about this,” she said, wringing her hands. “I never would have invited everyone to supper on our special evening if I had known this would happen. You’re a minister. I’ve shamed you, and you are not guilty.”

  “I did what he said I did. You’re not to blame, Esther. We’ll make it through this together, okay?” He reached for her hand.

  She clasped his fingers in hers. “There was nothing wrong with what you did. I loved the wildflowers you brought me. That was the sweetest thing.”

  “I know.” He tried to smile. “I guess we’ll have to put this all back together somehow, but it will take a little while. I hope you understand.”

  She nodded and bit her lip. “You won’t leave me, will you?”

  “Of course not.” He squeezed her hand. “You’re not to blame. Just hang tight in the weeks ahead, okay?”

  “I will,” she whispered as he pulled his hat on and went out the door. She watched him go amid a flood of tears. Without meaning to, she had hurt the man she loved so deeply. Beth’s arm slipped around her shoulder about the time Isaiah’s buggy turned out of the driveway.

  Her bishop’s voice rumbled behind them. “I’m very sorry about this, Esther. I still say this is a bunch of fuss about nothing.”

  “I’ve messed up everything,” Esther wailed. “And I couldn’t even help Joseph and Arlene.” She buried her face in her apron and sobbed.

  THIRTY-THREE

  The next week began with a blast of heat from the south that crept up the valley and threatened to stay. Esther opened all the windows in the house each night and pushed the drapes back, but she still tossed and turned until the early morning hours when a slight breeze blew down from the Adirondacks. Exhausted, she groped for the alarm on the nightstand by her bedside, shut off the switch, and stumbled toward the bedroom window for a peek at the faint dawn on the horizon. The promise of another hot day was in the air.

  The ache in her heart continued, and she knew something should be done. Perhaps she should go back to Lancaster County
for a visit and spend some time away from the community and the current sad situation. Isaiah had preached yesterday at the church service because he had to. Amish ministers didn’t get to avoid their duties unless they fell into sin or heresy. Isaiah’s embarrassment at Peter and Edna’s hands had been neither, but the wound had cut deep into his sturdy nature, and she was to blame.

  Isaiah had hung his head throughout the sermon, his voice rising to none of the heights or eloquence he normally attained. For this she was also to blame, and for the snickers the young men engaged in behind Isaiah’s back. After the reason had become known for Peter, Edna, and Arlene’s sudden departure from the community, the men had dubbed Isaiah the “flower minister.” Such things could not be kept a secret in close-knit community circles.

  Isaiah had not been back since that awful night. She didn’t blame him. They would face things and attempt to place their lives back on track—but how? Their engagement was still in place. Isaiah wouldn’t leave her, especially now that their wedding date had been set for the last Thursday in October. But they hadn’t gotten any further than a date with their plans, caught up as they had been in their newfound love for each other. She had led Isaiah down the fairy path of romance and ended up in the ditch, with Isaiah’s reputation in tatters.

  How much better things would be if she had never heard of roses, or of dreams, or of all those silly things, and had stayed the practical, down-to-earth woman who moved into the valley from Lancaster County this past April. She had fallen so low, and her plans—which had once been so sure—were now broken. She had held Isaiah in the palm of her hand that first night she arrived, only to foolishly squander what the Lord had so graciously given her.

  On top of all that, Joseph was stuck with no help at his greenhouse except for Ben and young Jason. She went down when she was able, but Diana was still recovering from the accident and her cast wouldn’t be removed for another two weeks. Joseph seemed appreciative of her efforts, but nothing she could do healed the wound that festered in both of their hearts. They were two injured people, drawn together at first by a common cause, now caught in a whirlwind of events that threatened to take them both.