by Linda Byler
“Oh, good, good, goody!” Lizzie yelled exultantly, waving the letter in the air as she marched around the kitchen.
Mam smiled, and Dat drew his eyebrows down in displeasure. He shook his head and mumbled something about acting your age, before his head disappeared behind his paper again. Lizzie stopped to look at Dat, or rather at the paper he was holding. Dat just was not the same since he had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. He was often tired and, of late, irritable and short with his children. He would have laughed in the past, his blue eyes twinkling at them, but now he often frowned or showed his displeasure with a sharp word. Most of the time the girls shrugged it off, but sometimes it hurt, even though they realized he struggled to accept this disease more than they would ever know.
So they hired a driver and traveled to Allen County. Lizzie could hardly wait to see Emma and Joshua, the old farm, and especially their new baby, Mark. Stephen wore a light, cream-colored shirt that made his skin look very tan. His hair was always bleached to a lighter color by the fall after a long summer of working in the sun. Lizzie thought he looked very handsome and wondered if Emma would think so, too.
After you dated awhile, it was much easier to relax and fully accept the fact that your boyfriend really did like you the way you were. It was no longer quite as big an issue for Lizzie to be a bit overweight, because Stephen certainly didn’t seem to mind.
Lizzie didn’t worry so much about her appearance like she had in the beginning of their relationship. It seemed as if dating for a year or so took care of the flutter of nervousness, the agony of indecision about which dress to wear, or, when you really thought about it, a lot of silly insecurities.
They no longer had strained silences. Instead, it was normal for them to have a good, healthy discussion about something they didn’t agree about. But the one thing they didn’t discuss was marriage. Of course, Lizzie wanted to get married now. She wasn’t really tired of being with the youth, but she wanted to go forward with her life.
For one thing, she was tired of teaching school, of helping Mam at home, and especially of the endless yard and garden work around the old farm. Lizzie wanted her own house, a nice new one, to be exact, with only Stephen to worry about.
The van turned into the farm lane. Emma greeted them from the porch of her brick farmhouse with a huge smile. As soon as they climbed down from the van, Joshua made John and Stephen feel at home with his warm manner as he showed them around the farm, pointing out where the pigs and steers were housed, and walking them to the pastures and the fields.
The sisters sat together in the living room and talked as fast as they could until they all stopped and admitted that no one was listening because all three of them were talking at once. There was just simply no one else on earth like a sister, they all agreed, and before they were aware of it, they were all talking at once again.
They fussed over Baby Mark, admiring the cute shirt and pants Emma had made for him. He was a big boy, toddling around on the glistening hardwood floor, pulling himself up with a mighty effort as he hung onto a sofa cushion. Emma said the best thing that ever happened to her was having a baby.
“I want lots and lots of children,” she said.
Lizzie eyed her a bit skeptically.
“Emma, now you know they won’t all be as good as Mark is right now. Suppose you’d have a baby that screams and cries like Jason used to? Or Aunt Becca’s baby girl?”
Emma leaned back on her glider rocker, gently massaging Baby Mark’s back as she tried to get him to sleep. She laughed easily as she looked at Lizzie in disbelief.
“Boy, you sure haven’t changed, have you? Worrying about a colicky baby before you’re even married!”
“Not my baby. Your next one!” Lizzie shot back.
Mandy laughed. “Oh, boy! Here we go. Sounds like home!”
“Don’t you ever long to be a single girl at home again, Emma?” Lizzie asked.
“No! Absolutely not. Never. I’d much, much rather be married to Joshua and have a baby boy. Right, Mark?” And Emma proceeded to hug and kiss her precious boy until he struggled to be put down on the floor.
“Come. I have to show you what I made for our snack tonight,” Emma said, as she led Lizzie and Mandy to the kitchen. Handing Mark to Mandy, she triumphantly produced two Tupperware containers and whisked the lids off, watching eagerly as Lizzie bent down to see what was inside.
“Emma! You didn’t make these. You bought them at a bakery!” Lizzie gasped.
“I made them! I absolutely did. I would never buy something like this at a bakery,” Emma laughed, beaming proudly.
Mandy oohed and aahed about the lemon jelly roll Emma held, while Lizzie said the chocolate one looked like a picture in a magazine. It did. Emma had made two perfect cake rolls. The lemon one was piped full of a light lemon filling that smelled so delicious Lizzie’s mouth watered. The other cake was a rich chocolate filled with creamy vanilla frosting. Emma had dusted both with confectioners’ sugar. The cakes were perfectly round without a crack or a burnt edge in sight.
“I just can’t believe you did that,” Lizzie said, absolutely impressed.
“Oh, Lizzie, you know how I always was. There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend hours in my kitchen, meticulously producing something like these jelly rolls.”
Emma’s eyes lit up, and she hurried back to the pantry. “Look at this,” she said, holding a perfect loaf of homemade bread. It looked exactly like the loaf of bread in the children’s book about the Little Red Hen who baked a beautiful loaf of bread with the wheat she raised.
“Emma, you are genuinely talented at baking,” Lizzie said sincerely.
“And having baby boys!” Mandy added, scooping up Baby Mark and squeezing him affectionately.
When Joshua came into the kitchen followed by John and Stephen, there were no awkward moments, no times of feeling ill at ease. That was just how it was when you went to Emma and Joshua’s place, Lizzie thought happily. They both loved to have company and made you feel so welcome and relaxed. Maybe it was because Emma was her sister, but whatever the reason, Lizzie loved to go visit them.
They all sat around the kitchen table as Joshua put on the teakettle for hot water. He drank black instant coffee almost continuously throughout the evening—that boiling hot, dark brown, bitter brew that Lizzie could positively not enjoy. She had often tried to drink coffee like Mam did. She tried it with milk, with sugar, with cream and sugar, but no matter how many attempts she made, it just wasn’t good. Stephen drank coffee, too. He seemed to enjoy it as much as Joshua did, telling Lizzie he filled a quart thermos with it every morning.
That’s why Lizzie found it so fascinating to watch Joshua enjoy his coffee. It was steaming hot, so he would sit back in his chair and stir it for awhile, talking and laughing easily until the coffee cooled enough for him to take the first sip. That black awful stuff.
Emma carefully arranged the cake rolls on a cut-glass oblong tray, putting a sharp stainless steel knife beside it. Her cheeks flushed, she scurried back and forth between the refrigerator and the pantry, slicing cheese and arranging Ritz crackers around it. She poured tall glasses of ice-cold peppermint tea and opened a bag of pretzels, placing them in a dish that matched the oblong tray.
“We don’t go to town often,” she said breathlessly, “so we can’t serve a lot of fancy things like Pepsi and other snacks.”
“Emma, that wouldn’t seem like being at your house,” Lizzie said. “It seems homier and ‘farmier’ with the food you have.”
Emma gave Lizzie an appreciative look, glancing a bit nervously at Stephen and John.
“Don’t worry about me. We live very simply at my house,” Stephen said.
Lizzie was so proud of Stephen she could have hugged him, but of course she didn’t. That was a very nice thing to say, making Emma feel comfortable with the fact that her food was just right exactly the way it was. Emma continued to dash between the table and the counter top, making everyone comforta
ble, seeing that they had everything they needed, until Joshua told her to sit down and relax or the cake rolls would be all gone before she could enjoy a slice of them.
“Maybe I had better before Lizzie eats all of them!” Emma said, teasing her.
“I could eat the whole thing,” Lizzie said seriously.
Joshua’s eyes sparkled as he turned to Stephen. “You sure you want to marry her? She may turn out to be expensive!”
“Joshua!” Lizzie cried, horrified.
Stephen thought it was very funny, although his face definitely deepened in color. Lizzie knew her face was bright red, but everyone laughed so genuinely, and Stephen gave her such a reassuring look, that Lizzie could laugh with them. The exchange broke all the reserve they had left, and as the evening wore on they had a genuinely good time playing their favorite card game, Rook.
Lizzie decided during the evening that being married to someone you loved was a very worthwhile goal. It was an exciting idea, one that made her feel happy through and through. She wanted her very own home so she could have her friends over and serve them all her good food, although she knew without a moment’s hesitation that it wouldn’t be homemade cake rolls like Emma made. She could barely bake a decent chocolate chip cookie.
She sat back in her chair, watching Stephen shuffle the Rook cards. She wondered a bit apprehensively if he could be a good husband and father, and if he had enough common sense to make good solid decisions and protect her. He could be very grown up, especially when he talked about his work, so that Lizzie was sometimes in awe of him. But he could also be hopelessly funny at times, acting as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
He turned to smile at her, that secret little gesture of belonging, and Lizzie’s heart melted in gratitude that he was her boyfriend. Probably there was no such thing as an absolute, 100 percent, perfect boyfriend, and so far, Stephen was everything she had hoped for.
“No, I’m planning on buying the herd in a few months,” she heard John say.
Lizzie snapped to attention, her eyes riveted intently on John’s face. She watched Mandy as she blinked her huge green eyes, listening carefully.
The herd! He meant cows! Oh, poor Mandy.
“How many are you planning to milk?” Joshua asked, bending for yet another sip of coffee.
“Around 40, hopefully,” John answered.
Forty cows!
“Who in the world is going to help you milk 40 cows?” Lizzie blurted out.
“My brother will help me get started. Then we’ll see,” he said, turning to scoop up the Rook cards.
Lizzie’s eyes narrowed as she watched Joshua’s slow grin spread across his face.
“You need a wife,” he said, smiling broadly.
Emma and Lizzie exchanged knowing glances and hid their smiles. Mandy cleared her throat nervously and quickly grabbed a pretzel, chewing rapidly.
“Looks as if his wife got hungry for a pretzel very suddenly,” Stephen said slowly.
Mandy drew back her arm and threw a pretzel, hard, hitting Stephen’s face. He ducked, grimacing, and laughed with Joshua at John and Mandy’s discomfort.
Everyone laughed then and settled down to a serious discussion about courtship and marriage. It was no wonder you wanted to get married when you were at Emma and Joshua’s house, Lizzie decided. They portrayed marriage as one of the greatest ideas God ever invented. Joshua could go on and on about the merits of living with Emma. He didn’t try to hide the fact that she was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, and the time he spent on the farm with his wife were the best days of his life. Emma beamed and smiled, naturally basking in the warm words of praise from her husband.
“Surely, though, there are some things that you would change. Surely you’re not always blissfully happy every day,” Lizzie broke in, always the pessimist.
Joshua shrugged. “I wouldn’t know what!”
“Me neither,” Emma said softly.
“Come on. Not one thing?” Lizzie asked.
“Oh, maybe little things like not frying the cornmeal mush exactly as crispy as I like it,” Joshua laughed.
“Or watching you eat chocolate cake in your oatmeal,” Emma said, smiling.
“What?”
“Oh, he fixes a dish of oatmeal like ordinary people with sugar and milk, then he plops a piece of chocolate cake in the middle, stirs it up, and eats the whole mess,” Emma said.
“Now that is definitely different,” John said.
“You want to taste it? I’ve been eating it for years. It’s so good it’s habit-forming, like coffee. Tell you what, I’ll make you some.”
With that, Joshua got up and opened a drawer, selected a small saucepan, filled it with water, and settled it on the stove.
By the time the evening was over, they had all had a taste of warm oatmeal with chocolate cake stirred into it. The group gave Joshua’s concoction mixed reviews. Stephen liked it, and John grudgingly pronounced it edible. Mandy turned up her nose, but then that was Mandy, skinny thing, about most food, Lizzie decided. Lizzie loved it but didn’t really elaborate on the fact, mostly because it was embarrassing the way all food tasted delicious to her.
When it was time to leave, Lizzie wished the evening wasn’t over yet. She loved spending time with Joshua and Emma and told them so.
“You need to invite us again,” she said, as Emma hugged her tight.
On the way home, Lizzie sincerely hoped the longing to be married had settled squarely into Stephen’s heart and would not let him rest.
Chapter 3
“WHAT REALLY GETS TO me the most,” Lizzie said, waving her arms for emphasis, “is why does a covering have to be a certain size, or an apron belt a certain width? What does that have to do with your soul?”
Her sister, Mandy, didn’t say anything, just rearranged the driving reins in her hands as she guided Bess, their horse, toward the small grocery store. Lizzie slumped in her seat as the buggy climbed the hill. That was typical of Mandy, not saying much when she wasn’t really sure of herself.
Lizzie and Mandy were about to become members of the Amish church. It was a time of learning for Lizzie, of truly seeing for herself what it meant to be gehorsam, or obedient. It wasn’t all roses. Not even close.
When they reached the small village of Knobstown, Mandy pulled Bess to a stop. The sisters jumped out of the wagon and tied Bess to the hitching rack before going into the small grocery store.
“How are the girls?” Mr. Tibbs called out, his blue eyes twinkling behind his heavy eyeglasses. His plaid flannel shirt was stretched tightly across his round little stomach, his short fingers ringing up an order as swiftly as any cashier in town.
Mr. and Mrs. Tibbs, who ran the little friendly and efficient store, were always happy to see the “Amish kids,” as they called them.
“We’re fine,” Lizzie said, smiling back at him.
“Speaking for your sister, too?” he called, winking jovially at Mandy.
“Same here,” Mandy grinned.
“Good! Good!”
He leaned forward, his palms down on the counter, and asked what he could get for them.
“Mam has quite a list here, so it’ll take a while,” Lizzie told him.
After the two grocery bags were filled and the items paid for, Lizzie and Mandy each chose an ice cream bar to eat on the way home, even though the weather was bitterly cold. They took big bites of their ice cream as the buggy wound down the hill toward home, Lizzie holding Mandy’s bar between bites so she could drive Bess.
Mandy giggled, telling Lizzie that she was getting some strange looks from passing motorists. Lizzie sat on the spring wagon seat with an ice cream bar in each hand, while Mandy, the skinny one, was driving and had none.
“You mean, I look like I eat all the food away from you? Mandy!”
They drove on in companionable silence until Lizzie brought up the subject that was troubling her.
“Mandy, why do the ministers make such a big deal ab
out the smallest things?” she asked.
“Lizzie, just be quiet. I don’t understand everything fully. We probably won’t until we live to be a ripe old age. You make the biggest fuss about all this. What is your problem with changing some things? You don’t want to comb your hair fancy after you’re married anyway. Nobody does.”
Lizzie thought Mandy was being awfully short with her. She had to talk when something troubled her. Mandy knew that was a vital part of Lizzie’s well-being, bringing things out in the open and discussing what lay so heavily on her heart.
“Oh, all right, Miss High and Mighty. I apologize for disturbing Her Majesty’s peace,” Lizzie said, turning to look squarely at Mandy.
There was no response, only a faraway expression as Mandy looked at Bess’s ears.
“Grouch!” Lizzie finished, before turning away to watch the scenery in the opposite direction.
When they brought the groceries into the kitchen, Mam smiled and examined every item before putting it in the pantry or refrigerator. Lizzie made herself a cup of peppermint tea, sat down at the kitchen table, and stared into space. Mandy went straight to her room, with only a few short words to Mam.
Mam lifted her eyebrows.
“What’s wrong with Mandy?” she asked.
“I don’t know. She was not very nice about my questions on the way home.”
“What questions?” Mam asked, sighing as she straightened her covering.
“Oh, just this ordnung thing. Joining church.”
Mam’s eyes narrowed as she watched Lizzie’s face closely. “What now?” she asked.
“What does being plain have to do with your soul?” Lizzie burst out miserably.
“Well, Lizzie, obedience to the rules of the church is an outward sign of a change on the inside,” Mam said.
Lizzie snorted.
Mam sighed.
“You know a humble spirit is the surest sign of a change in your heart,” Mam said. “You want to do what’s right, Lizzie. That’s why you’re joining the church and no longer rebelling against God. After you’re baptized, you’ll no longer live for yourself and your selfish will, but you’ll have started on a journey where God is your Master. Now it’s up to you to lead a new and obedient life.”