She laughed. “You know you love the chaos.”
“And you as well. Here you are after a long day helping me with your schweschders and bruders, and you’re still not done. Already you’re looking at lesson plans to help the kinner at schul in the fall.”
“It’s true, I’m pretty boring.”
“That’s not what I was saying at all.” She tilted her head and studied her. “But you do need to get out and have some fun.”
Her mudder had a point. Miriam loved kinner but she hadn’t been out doing something fun in some time. “Life is busy right now. Maybe I’ll go to the singing on Sunday.”
“You should. Not maybe, but definitely!” She finished her tea. “I think I’ll go take a last check of the kinner and see why your dat hasn’t come in from the barn yet. I suspect he likes the quiet.”
Miriam laughed. She thought her mudder might be right. He loved his kinner, but he always looked a little baffled when they were all gathered at the huge kitchen table and clamoring for attention.
She sighed. She’d said she might go to the singing on Sunday, but did she really want to? This time of year, more and more couples were matching up. As soon as the harvest was over, the weddings would begin. She was only twenty-four and in no way was she considered an old maedel, but she hadn’t seen anyone romantically in such a long time.
Her thoughts drifted to Mark. She wondered what he was doing right now. She didn’t envy the Englisch, but she was schur he was doing something more interesting with his evening than she was. During the summers when he’d visited, he’d talked about movies, about traveling, about an entire world beyond her own.
Well, if she’d wanted to experience such a life, she’d had a chance. The Amish community here had never discouraged a young person from taking time for rumschpringe.
But Miriam hadn’t been interested. She enjoyed her life here. And when the church elders had approached her about teaching at the schul she and her schweschders and bruders had attended, she’d been overjoyed. She loved kinner and had always been her mudder’s helper, taking care of her younger siblings.
Now and then she thought about getting married one day and having kinner of her own, but she was too busy to date. And none of the men she knew were interested in the outside world at all. They only talked about farming and dairies and weather and whatever vocation they were called to. If they had read a book since schul, it was one on rotating crops.
She and Mark, on the other hand, could talk for hours and not one word about this year’s harvest would come up. She knew it was silly, even unfair, to compare Amish men to Mark. There was no future for them, but it didn’t help her forget how she felt about him. And seeing him again hadn’t lessened her feelings for him. In fact, she found herself thinking about him even more now that John had asked him to take over the farm.
She sighed as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She had to stop thinking about Mark. Truly, she was beginning to turn into a lovesick maedel. Last night she’d even dreamed of him.
She took a cool shower.
For schur it had to be the warm weather that was making her feel so flushed.
It felt good to be back at work.
Mark pulled into his parking space in the garage and walked to the elevator. Lani had warned him he had a heavy schedule lined up for the day, but he was grateful for it. It would keep his mind off his visit to Paradise and his grandfather’s emotional request.
“Hold the elevator!”
He punched the stop button and tried not to roll his eyes at the prospect of riding twenty floors in a small space with Chris Parker, another up-and-coming lawyer in the firm.
“So, took a couple days off, huh?” Parker slurped at the cup of coffee in his hand.
“Yeah.”
“Good job with the Smith case.”
“Thanks.” Okay, so he wasn’t particularly fond of Parker, but surely he could come up with something more than monosyllabic answers. His schedule was so packed he didn’t often get to talk to his colleagues. He flipped through his mental files searching for a topic. “How’s the new baby?” What was her name? Elaine? Ellen? Something that started with E.
“Great, great. Got some new pics to share.” He handed Mark his coffee to hold, set his briefcase down, and pulled out his cell phone to scroll through them. “Just shot these this morning.”
Mark bit back a grin as he looked through the photos on the phone. With thin blonde hair and two chins, the poor kid looked like Parker, not his attractive wife.
“Cute baby,” he offered, not knowing what else to say. Babies all looked alike to him.
“Fatherhood’s great. You should try it.”
“Maybe I should try marriage first.”
“Yeah, yeah, you should. How’s Tiffany?”
“Fine, fine.”
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Lani stepped in, her arms loaded with files. “Mark! You’re back!” She turned to Parker and leaned over to look at his phone. “So, new photos of Emily?”
Emily. Lani had a knack for remembering such things. She oohed and ahhed over the photos so Mark could go back to thinking about the day’s schedule. He checked his Rolex and saw that he had a half hour before his first client appointment.
The elevator stopped at his floor. He handed the cup of coffee back to Parker. “This is my stop.”
He got off and Lani followed him to his office. “How was your visit?”
“Don’t ask.” He set his briefcase on his desk, sat behind it, and watched her settle into a chair before him.
“You’re not getting off so easy.” She held the files to her chest. “What’s up with your grandfather?”
Mark rose and closed his office door, then returned to his chair. “He wants me to take over the family farm.”
She burst out laughing, then stopped. “You’re serious?”
He nodded. “Dead serious.”
“You’re the last person I can see as a farmer.”
“I spent summers working on the farm.” He held up his hands showing her the blister he’d earned the afternoon he’d helped in the fields. “I helped yesterday.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“What can I do? My life is here. I’m not an Amish farmer.”
“Maybe you can help him find someone to run it.”
Mark pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah.”
She stood and plopped the files on his desk. “Here you go. A little work for you now that you’re back.”
He grimaced. “Thanks.”
“I’ll get you some coffee.”
“That’d be great.”
From experience he knew she organized the files in order of importance. He opened the first and started his day.
Nine hours later, he saw the last client and closed the last file on his desk. Exhausted, he jotted a note for his billing hours and stood.
“’Night, boss,” Lani said as he passed her desk outside his office.
“What are you still doing here?”
She reached into her bottom drawer and pulled out her purse. “Leaving now. I put in some extra time today since I have a doctor appointment tomorrow.”
“I told you that you don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
They got into the elevator and rode down to the ground floor.
“You won’t listen to me.”
“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “Have a good night.”
He stopped on the way home at his favorite Chinese restaurant. As he ate General Tso’s chicken with chopsticks in front of his wide screen television, he couldn’t help thinking it was quite a change from the meal Miriam had prepared for him and his grandfather the night before.
The next few days were just as busy. He took Tiffany out one night and listened to her talk about her job at the museum and the upcoming fundraiser ball.
“My grandfather wants me to take over the farm,” he told her as they lingered over dessert at her favo
rite restaurant.
“You’re kidding. Why would you do that? You’re an attorney. A successful one,” she pointed out.
“He can’t run it himself anymore,” he said. “He’s getting on in years and I can tell his arthritis is getting worse.”
She spooned up chocolate mousse. “Well, that’s not your problem.”
He nearly bobbled his cup of coffee. “Excuse me?”
“You have a very different life than him. He can’t expect you to drop everything and become a farmer.” She looked up from her dessert. “When did he ask you to do this?”
“A couple days ago.”
“So that’s why you cancelled going to the gallery opening with me.”
“He said he needed to talk to me. When I had trouble contacting him, I drove there to make sure he wasn’t ill.”
“And he wasn’t.”
“No. Thank goodness.”
“You promised to take me.” She pushed the dish aside and her mouth formed a pout. “It wasn’t easy to find another escort.”
Mark leaned back in his chair and studied her. “So who did you go with?”
“William.”
“Did you have a good time?”
“That’s not the point. I wanted to go with you.”
The server came to top off their coffee. Tiffany gestured him away with a petulant wave of her manicured hand when he approached her side of the table.
Mark frowned. She was what a male friend of his called high maintenance. Her family was wealthy and she’d attended the best schools. The patrons of the museum she worked at were often longtime family friends.
Mark’s family had been middle class, and if he hadn’t been ambitious as well as a hard-working student who received scholarships, he might never have been able to attend college. His roommate had introduced him to the head of the firm he now worked at, and Mark worked long hours to get noticed by the top partners.
He’d always felt lucky Tiffany had given him a second look.
Now he found himself giving her one. And he wasn’t impressed with what he saw. Tonight he saw her as self-centered and snobbish. He turned down her invitation to come inside for a cup of coffee and watched her flounce into her apartment.
Was it because he’d gone for a drive with Miriam just the other day that he found himself thinking about her when he hadn’t for a very long time? Or was it the big difference in the two women?
He shrugged and pulled back onto the road and headed home. Out of habit he turned on the news while he stripped off his jacket and tie in his bedroom. A banner ran along the bottom of the screen: BREAKING NEWS!
And there was Maurice Smith being led to a police car by two officers. Mark grabbed the remote and turned up the sound, listening with disbelief as the on-camera reporter told how his client—just found not guilty earlier in the week—was being arrested for murder again.
Five
Early mornings were Miriam’s favorite time of day. The house was so quiet she could hear the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen.
She sat at the big wooden table, sipping a cup of tea and reading the latest circle letter. It was long, having traveled to other teachers living in Amish communities in fifteen states. Hannah in Sugar Creek, Ohio, had read about an interesting article about Finland schools where scholars were thriving after homework had been abolished. Amish kinner seldom had homework since they had before- and after-school chores.
“Guder mariye.” Her mudder breezed into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“Ruth, a teacher friend in Goshen, sent me the latest circle letter. It’s such fun getting new ideas from other Amish teachers around the country.”
Her mudder smiled and kissed the top of her head. “It’s so gut that you love your job. But enjoy your summer break.” She paused and laughed. “Working with me on harvesting the kitchen garden and canning and preserving. Easy, fun times, ya?”
Miriam laughed. “They are. I love how we plant seeds and nurture the plants that grow. It’s a little like the way my scholars come in as little kinner and grow and grow as eager learners.”
“That’s true.” Sarah walked to the stove to pour herself a mug of hot water. She sat at the table, dunked a tea bag in the mug, and looked thoughtful. “I know it wasn’t easy taking over for Anna at schul. She was your friend.”
“I couldn’t have if she hadn’t asked me to do it.” She sighed. “I still don’t understand why she had to die, Mamm.”
Sarah laid a hand over hers. “I don’t think we’re meant to. We’re meant to trust Him. Only He knows his reasons.”
Miriam sighed. “I know,” she said slowly, staring at the window. The darkness of night was fading and pale pink fingers of light began filtering into the room. Dawn always reminded her of the morning she’d sat with Anna after she came home from her last chemo treatment.
“She told me not to feel sad that she was leaving,” she said, “‘Why wouldn’t I be happy?’ she asked me. ‘It’s beautiful here and it’s beautiful there. And you get to experience such love in both places.’”
Miriam rose, poured more hot water into her mug, and returned to the table. “And then she asked me to consider teaching her kinner at the schul. She said she and John Byler had talked about it.” She stirred her tea. “So now I can say I had the worst and best time of my life all in the same year.”
“Something gut came out of it. She gave you a gift so something gut came of her passing.”
A thump sounded overhead.
“Someone’s up.” Miriam smiled at her mudder.
There was another thump, then they heard footsteps padding lightly down the stairs. Five-year-old Isaac wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and giving them a sleepy grin. “Mamm, I’m hungerich.”
“And what would you like to eat?”
“Pancakes?”
“I think I could make those in the time it takes you to get dressed and get your bruders and schweschders up,” Miriam said as she set aside the letter.
“Can I have the first one?”
“May I?” Miriam corrected.
Isaac tilted his head and studied her. “You want one too?”
“You know what I mean.”
He chuckled. “You do schul even when we’re home.”
“Proper grammar is always important,” she said primly. “Well? Shall I make pancakes?”
“Ya, you shall!” he cried and ran for the stairs. “Everybody! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”
Sarah put her hands over her ears. “Such a quiet, well-mannered kind.”
They heard pounding feet and excited shouts. “Kinner,” she corrected herself.
Miriam smiled. There was nothing she liked better than having a roomful of kinner, whether they were her family or her scholars. She reached into a cupboard, got out the biggest mixing bowl, found a wooden spoon, and began measuring ingredients.
Soon she and Emma had the kinner lined up at the big table eating pancakes soaked in syrup and wearing big smiles. Their dat came in from chores in the barn and settled into the chair at the head of the table. He looked pretty happy himself when Miriam set a plate stacked high with several big pancakes in front of him.
Miriam wished she had been able to get her mudder to sit still and eat more than one pancake before she disappeared upstairs to get bed linens for laundering. She ate quickly while keeping an eye on the kinner. For once there were no episodes of the boys engaging in sticky fingered mischief. She smiled ruefully. It was early yet.
After breakfast, chores were assigned. Mary washed the breakfast dishes and Emma dried them. Jacob and David followed their dat out to the barn. There were many kinner but more hands to do the work of the farm. Only the littlest, boppli Katie, escaped doing chores. She patted sticky hands on the tray of her high chair and grinned at Miriam.
“You’re next for a good washing,” Miriam said.
“We can dunk her here in the sink after the dishes are done,” Mary joked.
&
nbsp; “I’ll give her a bath so you two can get started in the kitchen garden. It’s going to be a warm day today.”
“You mean hot,” Emma said. “It’s never just warm this time of year in Lancaster County.”
“True.” Miriam found herself remembering how cool it had been in Mark’s air-conditioned car. When he’d leaned over to adjust the vent and she’d turned at that moment and they’d been so close . . .
Suddenly the room seemed warmer. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Glancing over, she saw that Mary and Emma had finished with the dishes and were gathering up baskets to collect produce from the kitchen garden.
“Kumm,” she said to Katie as she lifted her from the high chair. “Let’s give you that bath.”
As she sat beside the tub watching Katie splash, she reflected on how summer break had only started a few weeks ago and she was already longing for fall to come so classes would start.
And on the heels of that thought came the reminder that couples started getting married in late fall.
She wanted to get married. Who didn’t? But she was hardly an old maedel. Amish couples, like Englisch couples, were getting married later these days. It was an especially good idea in her community. After all, there was no divorce here. Amish marriages were forever.
But it had been a long time since she’d dated. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been asked. She just wasn’t interested in any of the young men who asked her out. At some point it seemed that they stopped asking her.
Katie splashed her and brought her back to reality.
“Time to get out,” Miriam said. “Your little fingers are beginning to look like prunes.”
“Nee!” Katie said, pouting.
“Ya,” Miriam told her firmly, picking up a towel.
Katie tilted her head and gave her a big smile. “Cookie?”
“One.” It was impossible to resist the boppli of the family.
Lifting her, Miriam wrapped her in the towel and closed her eyes, absorbing the scent and feel of a fresh, clean kind.
During the schul year her entire day was taken up with someone else’s kinner. And whatever the time of year, as the eldest, so much of her day revolved around helping with her schweschders and bruders. She loved it.
Seeds of Hope Page 4