After Ben left, I told Marta I didn’t need to go home for the weekend. I was finally supposed to be taking my two days off, starting tomorrow, but now I couldn’t bear to leave.
“No, you need a break. There are plenty of people here now to cover for you.”
Disappointed, I asked her, “Will you let me know if Frannie takes a turn for the worse?” A few months ago, I was terrified to be with someone who was dying. Now I was afraid of being away when it happened to Frannie.
Marta assured me she would leave a message on my daed’s phone if there was any change. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re family.”
Her words rang warmly in my ears. I was family with these people. In a way, I was a better fit here than in my own home.
That night on the way to the daadi haus, Giselle trailed behind me. I stopped on the pathway and waited for her. The clouds had broken up and a crescent moon hung above the pine trees towering over the house. “How are you doing?” I asked.
She sighed. “So-so.” As she spoke she stumbled on an uneven rock on the pathway, catching herself before she fell. I quickly stepped to her side, taking her arm.
“Thank you. I guess I’m more exhausted than I thought.”
Once we stepped into the pitch black daadi haus, I fumbled for the flashlight on the shelf in the entry but knocked it to the floor. It took me a few moments to locate it, and when I turned it on nothing happened. I hit it on the end and the light flickered.
The house seemed absolutely void. It had sat empty all week, except for me and Giselle. Without Frannie, it felt as if the life had been sucked out of it.
“I’ll light the lamp,” I said, making my way to the kitchen.
Giselle’s voice was weary. “Don’t you get tired of all this?”
“Of what?” I shone the flickering light onto the countertop and located the box of matches.
“Supposedly this is the simple life, but nothing about it is.” She sighed. “Flipping a light switch. Now that’s simple.”
I lit the lamp, but the house still felt dark. “It’s not so bad.” The truth was, I’d never lived where I could flip a light switch. This was all I knew.
A short while later, as I crawled into my bed and extinguished my lamp, I thought of what it meant to be Amish, all the way back to my ancestors, Abigail and Gorg. I shuddered to think about what my life would have looked like if they had been excommunicated back then, if they hadn’t repented and passed their Amish heritage all the way down to me.
It gave me a new appreciation for Zed’s film, Carving a Legacy. True, Abraham Sommers didn’t turn back to the Lord until later in life, but his revelation of truth and steps toward reconciliation had left a foundation of faith for his family.
I remembered that Frannie had wanted to see the film, and then I nearly sat up in bed when the idea struck me. Zed needed to show it to her! To the whole family, actually. Together. What could be better, for all of them, than Zed’s beautiful reminder of where they had come from.
TWENTY-FIVE
Zed was the one charged with bringing me home for the weekend, and he showed up the next morning right on schedule. Giselle and I were both still out in the daadi haus when he knocked on the door.
Unable to contain my enthusiasm, as soon as he came in I blurted out that he should show his film to Frannie and the rest of the family.
His eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea. I have my computer in the car. We could show it right now.”
“Perfect. You took out that picture of my face, right?”
“Ah,” he said, looking embarrassed. “No. I forgot. I’m sorry.”
My shoulders slumped. We would have to wait.
Giselle stepped out of the kitchen. “Oooh, I want to see the film too. Why don’t we make an event out of it, just like going to the movies? We can all gather around Mamm’s bed to watch it together.”
“I’ll be gone all weekend,” I said.
“It can wait. You’ll be back on Monday, right?”
I nodded, fearing Frannie might not last that long. I didn’t want to be the one to say it, though, so I held my tongue. Surely she could hold on until then.
“Monday it is,” Zed said. “But it’ll have to be in the evening. I’m working all day.”
As I gathered my things, I could hear Giselle and Zed talking easily, like old friends. It wasn’t long before they were on the topic of the costumes for his next film. It sounded as though Giselle had told him her plan for weaving the fabric for all of the costumes, and he was thrilled.
On the way to my house, he swung by Susie’s shop so I could drop off my latest batch of work. I showed her the bookmarks I’d been making, and she agreed they would sell well. “Like wildfire,” she said.
By the looks of her belly, she’d be having a Christmas baby soon, with either Marta or Lexie at her delivery. I embraced her warmly before Zed and I left to continue on to my parents’ house.
Because he had to get to work, he wasn’t able to come in when he dropped me off. I thanked him, told him goodbye, said I would see him on Monday, and then I grabbed my bag, swinging it slightly as I started up the back steps to the house. I’d only been gone for two weeks this time, but it felt like forever.
Mamm was in the kitchen when I walked in, making beef stroganoff, which happened to be one of my favorite dishes.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Skating. Tabitha and Linda took the boys. You should go on down.”
“I have some work to do.”
“Why don’t you work in here? After dinner you can help me make snowball cookies. I thought I’d give them out to the neighbors this year. And I’ll make an extra plate for you to take back to Klara’s.”
We chatted as she cooked and I embroidered, sitting on the step stool against the wall, close to the woodstove. I told her about how Frannie was doing and about Lexie, Giselle, Ella, and Zed arriving. I left out telling her about my trip with Zed and Giselle into Lancaster, though.
I told her about Ben Yoder coming by and how well suited he seemed to being a doctor, trying not to be obvious as I gauged her reaction. How she felt about Ben not joining the church, I thought, might give me an indication to how she would feel about me if I chose to do the same.
“I can see why his parents let him be,” I added casually. “It’s good they didn’t stand in his way.”
Mamm smiled a little but didn’t respond. Instead, she changed the subject, telling me what Tabitha and Linda had made the boys for Christmas—hot chocolate mix—and said that all of my siblings would come for Christmas Day. “They’re doing Christmas Eve with their in-laws this year.”
“How’s Daed’s business?”
“Gut. He delivered several more tables to be given as gifts.” She motioned to the desk in the living room. It was covered with papers. “He’s having a hard time keeping up with everything. We’re going to figure out how I can help.”
I was relieved to hear that.
“I have a stack of mending. It’s in your room. I told Tabitha to do it, but she hasn’t.”
“I’ll work on it later,” I said. “No problem.”
There was a commotion at the back door and then in the mudroom. A moment later Stephen and Thomas came inside in their stocking feet, their cheeks rosy and chapped, their hair dark with sweat and their eyes bright.
“We had so much fun,” Stephen said, sliding on the linoleum toward Mamm and wrapping his arms around her waist. Thomas followed and did the same. The two of them nearly knocked her down. She laughed and shooed them away. “Go break the ice in the trough,” she said.
“We just took our boots off.” Stephen started toward the living room.
“Now!” Mamm commanded. “Get it done before your daed gets home.”
Stephen hung his head a little and started toward the back door as Tabitha and Linda came in, telling me a quick hello. “Set the table, girls,” Mamm said.
My sisters chattered away as Tabitha grabbed plates and Linda coun
ted out the silverware. Mamm opened two jars of green beans and dumped them in a big pan.
A few minutes later Daed walked in the back door. He saw me right away. He crossed the kitchen in one big step and swept me up in a hug.
“So how is Frannie?”
I teared up as I told him the rattle in her lungs was back. “She was doing so well,” I said. “Ben Yoder thinks she has a week or so left.”
“Maybe she was just waiting for everyone to get home.”
“But her family still needs her. Especially Giselle. For just a little while longer.”
“Ach, Izzy. If people held on as long as they were needed, no one would ever go.”
After dinner I retreated to my sewing room and started on the mending while Tabitha and Linda helped Mamm with the dishes and then cookies. I tried to pray for Frannie and her family, but the boys playing a game of checkers in the living room, rather loudly, distracted me. It’s good to be home, I told myself.
But I wasn’t all that convincing.
The next day was a non-preaching Sunday, and Zed showed up to invite me to go on another scouting expedition with him. I happily agreed, so glad it was the Sabbath.
We visited several places—a park with a woodsy area, the banks of a creek that had been untouched by development, and the sloping hill of a pasture with an oak tree at the bottom. He felt all of the locations held promise for shooting his film. Afterward, he invited me to lunch, so we went to a nearby deli in Mountville.
As we waited for our food, I finally worked up the courage to ask the question I’d wanted to for a while, ever since I’d received his bombshell of a letter.
“Are you sure you want Shelly to play Abigail in the movie?”
Zed rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah. It’s a shame she’s such a good actress. She’s a real pain as a person.”
Shocked, my head jerked back. A pain as a person? What did he mean?
“Didn’t you pick up on that when you were there? She’ll do anything to get in front of the camera. Anything.”
We were interrupted when the waitress showed up with Zed’s sandwich and my soup and salad special. After a silent prayer, he picked up his pastrami on rye and continued.
“She thought I was going to cast you in the part of Abigail. She assumed that was why I took you to the film on campus, so you could get an idea of how it all worked.”
I poked at my salad with my fork, processing his words. “Oh, goodness,” I said, thinking of what Shelly had said to me a few days after that, when I returned to Goshen with Penny. She told me to “give up and go home,” that I didn’t know what I was up against. What were her exact words? I know what you really want, but you had your chance. It’s my turn now.
Sitting here with Zed, almost a month later, I finally understood. When she said that, she hadn’t been protecting a relationship with him—she’d been protecting her role in his film.
“So you’re not dating her,” I managed to say without breaking out into a grin. I took a bite of lettuce to cover up my expression.
“Dating her? No way! She has a boyfriend—and I wouldn’t trade places with him for a million dollars.”
“She’s very pretty, though.”
“Yeah.” He thought for a moment. “But only on the outside.” He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed quickly, and swallowed. “Like that remark she made that day at the film screening. That’s what I mean about her being ruthless. She’ll do anything to eliminate competition for a role. She’s a talented actress and really smart, so she makes a good study partner sometimes, but otherwise I can’t stand her.”
I took a bite of my cheesy broccoli soup. The creamy warmth comforted me but not nearly as much as Zed’s explanation of Shelly. I’d never felt such relief. Now the only thing standing between me and Zed was—Zed.
After lunch we stopped at one more location. It was a dirt road in a township in the far western part of the county, close to the river. “Wanna guess what scene this is for?” he asked.
I didn’t know what he meant, but I looked around to try to figure it out. The area was pretty, but the muddy ruts had frozen. If it weren’t so cold, we would have surely become stuck, just as they would have in their buggies more than two hundred years ago.
“Oh!” I cried, turning back to him. “The Great Wagon Road! Is this it?”
“No, sorry. The real Great Wagon Road is now Interstate 81.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. But this could make a nice stand-in, don’t you think?”
Stepping in closer, Zed held up his hands, framed the shot, and then motioned for me to take a look. I did. “If we end up going with Abigail’s story, don’t you think it would be perfect for the scene where she and Gorg and the baby first leave for North Carolina?” I could feel his breath against my face, we were that close.
“Izzy?”
“Ya,” I answered, aware that he was no longer looking up the road. He was staring down at me. I turned toward to him, and as I did he said, “Aw, Iz…”
Then, to my astonishment, he leaned forward and kissed me. His lips were warm on mine as his cold hands moved toward my face, framing it instead of the road. I leaned into him, kissing him back, amazed at how natural it felt to be together this way. I’d yearned for this moment for so long. So long.
When he finally pulled away, he dropped his hands and said, “Aw, man.”
I studied his gaze. “What?”
“I shouldn’t…Ella told me…” His voice trailed off.
I blinked, mortified. Had Ella told him how I felt about him?
“Yes?”
“Ella warned me not to start something with you unless I was fully committed.”
“What did she say?”
He shrugged, his cheeks turning red. “She gave me a real talking to, practically all the way from Indiana to here. She warned me not to enter into a romance with you unless I mean to take it all the way to church membership and marriage.”
That explained a lot. “Is that why you were acting so weird when you first got here?”
“Yeah, I was confused. Ella doesn’t mince words, you know. She’s also really perceptive. It’s not surprising she picked up on my feelings for you.”
My knees grew weak as I spoke. “And…what are your feelings for me?”
His eyes glistened. Perhaps it was the cold. Perhaps not.
“I love you, Izzy. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
My heart pounded at the words I’d longed to hear.
“I know it may seem weird, us being friends and all, but I started realizing it a while back, and I just haven’t known what to do about it.”
I smiled. “I know what to do about it.”
This time I raised up on my tiptoes and kissed him, our lips meeting sweetly once again.
When we pulled apart the second time, I looked deep into his eyes and said, “You know I love you too, right?”
His eyes widened as I continued. “I think I always have, but I didn’t realize it until the day before you went away to school. In August.”
He shook his head, his face slowly breaking into a huge grin. “I had no idea. I can’t believe it took me so long to catch up.”
We both chuckled as he reached for my hands and entwined his fingers with mine.
“Ella was right, though. This is no small thing. We’re talking about two different churches.”
I nodded. “But your mom left the Amish church for the Mennonites, and she’s fine.”
“Yeah, and Ella left the Mennonite church for the Amish, and she’s fine.”
We were quiet for a moment.
“So whatever we end up doing, we’ll be…fine. Right?” I asked.
He shrugged, as if to say he didn’t know.
I didn’t know either. In fact, I was stumped as far as what to do next, but I certainly knew how I felt. I loved Zed Bayer with all of my heart.
And now I knew he loved me too.
TWENTY-SIX
> That night I broached the topic of my feelings for Zed with my parents. I’d asked them to join me at the kitchen table while my younger siblings played Scrabble in the living room.
“What are you saying?” Daed pushed back his chair.
My face grew warm. “Zed and I care about each other. I’m considering the possibility of joining the Mennonite church—”
Daed leaned forward toward me.
“—rather than the Amish.”
“Izzy,” he groaned.
I glanced toward Mamm. To my surprise, she seemed more curious than angry. But Daed’s expression was all pain as he said, “I don’t know how to respond.”
“You don’t need to,” I answered. “I just wanted you to know.”
Daed couldn’t leave it alone, though. “Did you ask him to join our church?”
“No.”
“Did he ask you to join his?”
“No. All we’ve done so far is to put it in God’s hands—”
At that Daed stood, saying, “What were we thinking to let you spend so much time with that boy? Of course this was bound to happen.” He marched away from the table to the mudroom, grabbing his work coat and then heading out into the night.
Tears filled my eyes. In all my life I had never seen him react so strongly.
“I know you both want me to join the church more than anything,” I said to Mamm after the back door had banged shut.
“No, not exactly. What I want most is for you to walk with the Lord. It’s up to you to decide how to do that.”
I looked at her, astounded. “Like Ben Yoder…”
She nodded. “Like Ben Yoder. Should he not have become a doctor?”
I shook my head.
“Don’t misunderstand, Izzy. I wouldn’t have this conversation with any of your brothers or sisters. Only you. You’re the only one this might work for. You’re the only one who has been reading Scripture and praying in that room of yours all these years. Yes, you’re intense and you worry, but I know you’re connected to God. You’re the one who wouldn’t get caught up in the ways of the world. You’re the one who could stay true to your faith without necessarily staying true to your church.”
The Amish Seamstress Page 32