Big Decisions

by Linda Byler

  How could they forget their argument about squirrel-hunting so soon and love each other so much again? That was one of life’s greatest mysteries, she supposed, how angry you could become and how soon you could forget that emotion when love came flooding back, like the sun warming you after it had been hidden by dark clouds. She wondered how long it would keep working like that, or if eventually, if you got too angry too many times, that the love wouldn’t work anymore? That was scary to think about.

  The salesman came over to them, danced over, actually, Lizzie thought, and asked them quite eagerly what he could help them with. He introduced himself and shook hands with Stephen, which was a bit too friendly when he was only a salesman in a furniture store. He looked like the cat in the Pinocchio book, so Lizzie took an instant dislike to him. She bet anything his chairs were expensive and very low quality.

  He showed them different dining room sets, hovering over them like a bothersome mosquito, reciting the best merits of every set. He works on my nerves, Lizzie thought. I wish he’d go away.

  As if reading her thoughts, Stephen asked him politely if they could have a bit of time by themselves to decide which chairs they wanted.

  “Oh, of course! Certainly! Certainly!” and he was off as if his shirt was on fire.

  Lizzie stifled a giggle, and Stephen grinned.

  “All right. Now with him gone, do you like any of them?”

  They looked at each one, compared prices, and finally decided to buy four oak captain’s chairs, but no table. Mam had ordered their table from an Amish furniture shop in Lamton, one that you could stretch out far enough to add 12 leaves and seat as many as 20 people at one time. That’s the kind of table all Amish women owned, a very necessary and practical piece of furniture with all the company they would serve over the years. Some women had their tables for 50 years, that’s how well they were built, Mam said.

  They also bought a Boston rocker which was a wooden rocking chair with a high back and two pretty beige and brown cushions. When the over-enthused salesman totaled the bill, the amount was still 100 dollars less than the amount Lizzie had in her purse. She was so happy because she could buy something more now, maybe a coffee table or some extra dishes. After Stephen made arrangements to have the furniture delivered in a month, they were on their way to the little shop on Main Street to buy a wooden silverware chest.

  Lizzie was a bit apprehensive, not knowing how to let Stephen know that he didn’t have to spend an exorbitant amount of money on her without making him feel as if he didn’t have enough money to buy her pretty things. He opened the door for her, and a little bell tinkled above their heads. A small, heavy-set man on a wheelchair turned to greet them, an easy smile spreading across his round face.

  “Hello, there!” he greeted them.

  They both answered with hellos of their own before looking around the tiny shop. The walls were covered with cut-glass or crystal dishes, displays of silverware, and wooden chests to store them in. There were also clear glass cases of jewelry and glistening gold and silver trophies, awards for having won a certain sport or event.

  “If there’s anything I can help you with, please let me know,” the man told them in his soft, polite manner.

  Lizzie’s eyes lit up, and she pointed to a clear glass water pitcher set. The pitcher was round and a bit low with the most wonderful-looking handle coming up from the bottom, shaped into a graceful arc with the rounded end resting against the top of the pitcher. There were eight tall glasses, each with a clear glass bottom and one delicately stemmed flower etched on it. The set was beautiful, absolutely perfect, but she hesitated before she could summon the courage to look at the price.

  “One hundred thirty-nine dollars!” she gasped.

  Turning to look at Stephen, she said, “You can’t buy that for me. The price is outrageous!”

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “Oh, I love it. It’s so beautiful! I never saw anything like it. I wonder how they can make a handle like that out of glass.” She bent over the set, lifting a glass and turning it against the light.

  “Well, you said you don’t mind getting inexpensive china, didn’t you? I could buy this set for you if you don’t mind less costly dishes then,” Stephen said, as she watched the sunlight playing on the clear glass.

  Lizzie returned it to the shelf, clasped her hands together in excitement, and said, “Of course! That’s what we’ll do! You can buy this ridiculously expensive water pitcher set, and we’ll go to K-Mart for my china. That’s exactly what we’ll do!”

  When they emerged from the quaint little shop, Stephen carried a box containing the beautiful water set, and Lizzie carried one which held a oak silverware chest. It was lined with beige-colored felt and had different compartments to hold knives, spoons, and forks, with a small drawer beneath.

  “Oh, Stephen!” Lizzie breathed. She couldn’t think of one thing to say other than that simple statement. She meant to say, “Thank you,” but it seemed so inadequate. She was, quite easily, thrilled beyond words.

  However, they had not bought the silverware to put into the chest because it was simply too expensive. Lizzie didn’t mind at all. She knew that at K-Mart there was a set she had often admired for about one-fourth the price, which really was smart, because how often did you use your good silverware?

  Before they went to the big K-Mart store, they stopped for their favorite treat—pizza. That was one thing they never disagreed on. Pizza was their favorite restaurant food. Lizzie knew that pizza and all the big sandwiches, French fries, fried mushrooms, and whatever, were terribly high in calories and everything else that was not good for you, but she never cared, figuring a few such meals weren’t going to hurt her.

  Lizzie liked going to restaurants with Stephen. He always told Lizzie the same thing—that he didn’t know how to pronounce the words, so she should order for him. Then he would show her the item he wanted and pronounce it in some outrageous fashion, so that she always laughed when the time came to order.

  Over piping hot slices of thick pizza, loaded with mushrooms, sausage, and pepperoni, just as Stephen loved it, they talked of their house and how much they looked forward to arranging their new furniture in it.

  “I just wish I could buy china like John gave Mandy,” Stephen remarked.

  “Please don’t, Stephen. I wouldn’t even feel right, knowing you’re putting every penny you have into our new house. To tell you the truth, I’m not interested in dishes much anyway. If a set of china is arranged in a hutch cupboard, who can tell if it’s expensive or not?”

  That was how she felt, too. K-Mart china was just fine for her and perfect for Stephen’s budget. She knew that sometimes she would run her hands over the unbelievably smooth surface of Mandy’s plates and cups, marveling at the luster of those dishes, but she never once wished she could have some just like them.

  They were pushing a cart up the long aisles at K-Mart when Stephen began showing signs of impatience. He said something about where they kept their hunting stuff, then leaned against a shelf and tapped his foot while Lizzie browsed, or he whistled a slow tune under his breath. He sighed, asked Lizzie where the clock was, and asked if she couldn’t choose silverware without him.

  “No, Stephen, I want to get my things with you!” Lizzie said, sharper than she had intended.

  “Oh.” That was all he said, and afterward he started looking at the ceiling, humming and tapping his shoe against the tile floor.

  “Stephen, look. Which design do you like best?” Lizzie held up three different knives to show him the handles.

  “That one!” he said, so quickly that she knew he hadn’t even considered.

  “You didn’t even look!”

  “They’re all nice. I like them all. Just buy all three.”

  Lizzie laughed. “You don’t even care!”

  “Why would I? You don’t see the handle of your fork while you’re eating. You look at your food. Just get whatever you like best.”


  He resumed his humming and foot-tapping routine, which was soon accompanied by drumming his fingers against the shelf he was leaning against. Lizzie tried hard not to let it bother her, but she was starting to feel a distinct twitch in one eye. Her back began to ache with tension, and she chewed her thumbnail.

  She liked the design that looked as if little blocks were hammered into the handle, but then, what about the rose design? Of course, there were no roses on her water pitcher set, so maybe that wouldn’t look right either. She simply could not decide, and Stephen was acting like some huge dolt by this time.

  “Let’s go look at the china,” she said evenly, although she had to clench her teeth so she wouldn’t lose her temper.

  He followed her meekly, saying nothing, leaned against another shelf, and looked at the ceiling. Then the foot-tapping began again.

  “Stephen, do you like this design?” she asked quickly. Anything to stop that incessant foot-tapping.

  He walked over and peered down at the plate she held in her hands. “That’s pretty. Actually, if your mashed potatoes covered that one row of flowers, and the gravy ran over to the opposite side, it would look exactly like every other set of china.”

  “If you don’t act normal, I’m going to break this plate over your head,” Lizzie said, trying to joke but falling a bit short.

  “You would, wouldn’t you?” Stephen said.

  “If you don’t stop tapping your foot and staring at the ceiling, I will.”

  “Lizzie, I hate to go shopping. Why do I have to stand here so long? Just buy something, anything, so we can go home. I want to work on the house,” he said beseechingly, spreading his hands for emphasis.

  “I’ll tell you what. You go to the sporting goods section and look at fishing rods or guns or whatever it is that holds your interest, and I’ll choose my china all by myself.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  She had never been more certain of anything in her life, letting out a huge sigh of relief the minute his tall form disappeared around a corner. Men just weren’t made to go shopping. Mam said the very same thing about Dat. After he left, she calmed herself considerably and chose the hammered design for her silverware and a beige and gold flower pattern for her china. A salesperson helped her with the two boxes of china, and she wheeled it toward the sporting goods section, hoping both boxes would stay intact until she found him.

  Sure enough, there he was, bent intently over the gun case, muttering to himself. She stood and waited to see how long this would go on. He didn’t look up or notice her for a few minutes, then caught sight of her from the corner of his eye.

  “Oh! There you are! Sorry!”

  He looked at her closely to see if she felt any resentment or anger toward him. But, oh no, Lizzie was smiling serenely, determined not to ruin the rest of this outing.

  “I’m not a very good shopper,” he admitted wryly.

  “You’re doing just fine, Stephen. It did take me too long to decide,” she said, smiling sweetly up at him.

  She felt no resentment because it made her very happy to think of future shopping trips when he would be at work, safely away from any store where she needed to go. She knew the reason Stephen tried his best to be apologetic and very helpful, loading the boxes of china onto the checkout counter, was because he was thanking his lucky stars that you only got married once, and from now on, it was up to her to go get the things they needed. Large stores gave him a severe case of claustrophobia, and he couldn’t breathe very well if he didn’t look at the ceiling.

  What a clamor when they arrived home! The twins squealed and jumped up and down, and Jason asked Stephen dozens of questions about turkey-hunting before they had even finished unloading all of their purchases from the buggy. Mam exclaimed over and over about the beautiful water set, and Dat sat at the kitchen table and shook his head, smiling at Stephen.

  “Aren’t you glad you’ll only be getting married once?” he asked.

  “Funny you say that,” he said. “That very thought is the only thing that kept me going through all this!”

  Dat threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, how well I remember that very same feeling! Although back when we got married, we didn’t buy all these fancy things like they do nowadays. I would never have been able to afford it. I wasn’t even 21 years old yet.”

  Lizzie sat down beside Stephen and smiled. “Was it really that bad going shopping with me?” she asked.

  “Not the first part of the trip, no. I enjoyed buying the kitchen chairs and the rocking chair. It was the china and silverware that fixed me!”

  Jason laughed uproariously, which didn’t impress Lizzie at all. She glared at him and told him to wait and see how much he would like to go shopping with Sharon a few years from now.

  “Sharon!”

  “Don’t act so shocked,” Lizzie said in a singsong tone of voice.

  Jason very seldom blushed, but Stephen laughed when his face turn a decided shade of red.

  “Now, Jason!” he said.

  Lizzie unpacked her plates and showed Mam the pattern and texture of her silverware. Mam told her she had done very well and that she was proud of her for being careful of Stephen’s money since he was building the new house and all, until Lizzie’s heart swelled with love and gratitude.

  Why, even when you had a boyfriend and were getting married, did your parents’ approval still mean so much? Was it something you sought your whole life long? She supposed it must be so, because even with loving Stephen and having him in her life and looking forward to getting married, she cherished her parents more than ever.

  Maybe love was just like that. The more you loved, the more you were given to love, until your cup was full and ran over and even splashed on the floor. It was a wonderful thought, and Lizzie hoped it would never end.

  Chapter 11

  LIZZIE WAS UPSTAIRS ON her knees, bending over to paint the wide, heavy piece of baseboard in Jason’s room. The wedding was only a week away, and they were putting the finishing touches on the freshly painted and cleaned upstairs.

  She dipped her brush into the gallon of thick white paint, than ran the brush carefully along the bottom of the board, very slowly so she wouldn’t ruin the linoleum. Sighing, she sat back on her heels. Time and a bit of paint had certainly made a huge difference in this old house, especially in the rooms that had new flooring.

  She heard the kitchen door banging and wondered if it was already lunchtime. She sure was getting hungry, but it seemed too early to be noon. Then she heard the stairs squeak in protest as Mam came up at a fast pace. She appeared at the doorway, her scarf coming loose, her hair windblown, and a hand over her chest as she struggled to regain her breath.

  “What is it, Mam?” Lizzie scrambled to her feet, her face ashen.

  “It’s Mandy! She had a doctor’s appointment today, and they have a pair of twin girls!”

  “No!” Lizzie screeched.

  “Yes, they do!”

  Then she was laughing and crying, and Lizzie was laughing and crying and dropping her brush and picking it up again. Mam was gasping and fixing her scarf, trying to speak, but all that came out were little gasps and hiccups. Finally, she dug in the pocket of her dress, found her handkerchief, and blew her nose. Then she handed it to Lizzie, and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  “S … s … six weeks early! Oh my goodness. Siss ken fa-shtant!  ” her favorite Pennsylvania Dutch phrase which means there’s no sense. Mam used the only way she knew to fully express her feelings at a time like this. It didn’t make much sense, but Lizzie knew exactly how she felt.

  Then the thought hit Lizzie like a slap in the face. “The … the … my wedding!” she screeched again.

  “Yes, the wedding! No, we can’t have a wedding without John and Mandy. We’ll just have to move the date to December sometime.”

  “Ma-a-m!” Lizzie wailed. “What will Stephen say?”

  “It can’t be helped, Lizzie. You’r
e going to have to give in. Mandy will need help and lots of it, so there’s no way we can have this wedding in a week.”

  Lizzie struggled to give in to this unexpected turn of events. The doctors had assured them that Mandy would be fine to attend the wedding. Why did she have to go have those twins now? Lizzie stopped that ugly thought, knowing it was completely selfish and uncaring. Dear, sweet, big-eyed Mandy. So young, with such an awesome responsibility placed on her shoulders. She took a deep breath and steadied herself as Mam watched the display of emotion move across her face.

  “Stephen will be all right with this, Lizzie. He’s not the kind of guy who gets all upset about having his wedding a few weeks later. He’s not that childish,” she said firmly.

  So that evening Lizzie’s family all took early baths, changed into clean Sunday clothes, and got on their way in a van to the hospital in Falling Springs. Their first stop was at Stephen’s parents’ place.

  Lizzie was met at the door by his mother, a small, round person with big blue eyes like Stephen’s. She wore glasses and was dusting her apron with her hands, removing the flour that clung to it.

  “Lizzie! This is a surprise!” she said.

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it? Is Stephen at home?” she asked.

  “I think he’s upstairs. Let me call him.”

  She turned to get Stephen, and Lizzie smiled at Daniel who was seated on the wood box.

  “Hi!” she said.

  “Hi, yourself,” he answered and grinned at her. He is almost better looking than Stephen, Lizzie decided. That dark hair and those blue, blue eyes.

  Stephen appeared with his mother.

  “John and Mandy have twin girls, Stephen! That means we have to postpone our wedding for at least two more weeks.”

  Stephen’s mom held both hands to her mouth and said, “Ach my! Siss ken fa-shtant!” exactly like Mam.

  In typical Stephen fashion, he didn’t say anything at first, then he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “So I guess we’ll be getting married later then.”