Home on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  He gave her a weary smile, seemingly unconcerned about what her reply might have been. “You got some sun yesterday.”

  “Is my face burned?”

  “You’ve got a few more freckles on your nose.”

  Mary Anne smirked. “My nose is nothing but freckles.”

  “Nae,” he said, looking at her as if she was the only person in the whole world. “I’ve memorized your face, every freckle, every line. You’ve got more freckles today than you had yesterday.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. Maybe it was even true—the part about memorizing her face.

  He let go of her hand, finally. “You’re tired. The sheer terror of that motor home ride has worn you out.”

  “Nae,” she said, unable to stifle a yawn. “It was wonderful exciting.”

  He smiled cautiously. “You think so?” He straightened his legs out in front of him. “Cum. Rest for a minute. We don’t have to be back for almost an hour.”

  She didn’t want to get so close to him and his aggravating warmth, but she was almost dizzy with fatigue—fatigue or the lingering effects of that kiss swirling in her head. Reluctantly or eagerly—she couldn’t tell which—she laid her head in his lap and closed her eyes. Just as she expected, his lap was warm and comfortable. How had she gotten herself into this? And how would she get herself out?

  She drifted off to sleep to the sound of the lake lapping against the shore and the tingle of Jethro’s fingers stroking her cheek. Plenty of time to stew about it when she could think straight, if she ever wanted to again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The other men in the van were irritated beyond endurance, but Jethro couldn’t help himself. He had whistled all the way to work this morning. He’d whistled while he sanded cabinets and drove nails. He whistled during the lunch break and then all the way home in the van. When they finally stopped in front of Jethro’s house, his cousin Marty practically shoved him out of the van. “Aren’t you living in a tent?” Marty said.

  Jethro nodded as he retrieved his lunch box from the seat. “Still in a tent.”

  “Then you have no business being so happy. Try to put a lid on it tomorrow or you’ll be walking to work.”

  Jethro chuckled and gave Marty a wave as he shut the door. Nothing could mar his gute mood. Mary Anne was starting to warm up to him. He could feel it. He should have told her years ago that he could drive.

  Their adventure with the motor home had been almost a week ago, and things between them had improved dramatically. Maybe Mary Anne realized Jethro wasn’t as boring as she had thought he was. Maybe she had liked the way he’d wrapped her toe. Maybe it was the maple bacon doughnuts that had made the difference. Never again would he underestimate the power of a maple bacon doughnut.

  On Saturday, Mary Anne had asked him to help her plant pansies around her tent. Then they’d worked together in the garden, even though Mary Anne had made it clear the tomatoes and cucumbers were for Jethro because she didn’t plan to be there to harvest them. Her determination to leave had made him more than a little unhappy, but then he’d realized that maybe she was digging in her heels because she could feel herself drifting back to him.

  They’d planted tomatoes and cucumbers, peppers and cantaloupe. And milkweed, because Mary Anne was determined to save all the butterflies in Wisconsin. Jethro didn’t see how a few stalks of milkweed were going to help, but it was a nice gesture for the butterflies all the same.

  Last Sunday was off Sunday, and Mary Anne had specially invited Jethro to have supper with her and her camping cousins. She had gently reminded him not to ask about the cost of the five pot roasts she’d bought to feed everyone, but she had still invited him. The invitation was very encouraging, considering she thought all he cared about was money. If only she knew how little he cared about money now that he was at risk of losing his wife. Ach, how he regretted the hundreds of times he’d used money as a justification when all he’d really been doing was suffocating Mary Anne’s dreams.

  No sense dwelling on past mistakes. He was determined to be a better man and a better husband. He wanted to treat Mary Anne the way she deserved to be treated and to show her that he wasn’t a lost cause. He wanted to make her love him again. And maybe his efforts were working.

  Surely the birthday present he’d made for her would melt her heart if anything would. He couldn’t wait to give it to her.

  Jethro strolled around to the back of the house, whistling all the way. Mary Anne had painted three giant flowers on the barn where the quilt block had been. Each flower was a different bright color, and each was as big as a buggy wheel. They were a cheery addition to the campsite. Mary Anne worked at the senior center, tended the garden, sewed quilts, and painted furniture for that Etsy shop. Jethro marveled at all she got done in a day. Had it always been this way and he just hadn’t noticed? Nae, more likely she had suppressed any desire to create because she thought that was what he wanted.

  He made his way to the east side of the camp, where Mamm and Dat and the others were still camping. It was a much more somber place than Mary Anne’s side. Mary Anne’s camp had giant flowers, laughing children, and huge butterflies. The east side had dingy gray and green tents and an austere Porta-Potty. Jethro propped his hands on his hips and surveyed his campsite. Mamm fed the fire in preparation for dinner. Willie Jay was adjusting his tent stakes and airing out his tent. None of the other men had arrived from their farms or jobs yet.

  Jethro had to admire everyone’s dedication. They’d been there almost two weeks, and for sure and certain things wouldn’t be resolved any time soon. How long would any of them last?

  Mamm looked up and didn’t even try for a smile. He knew her back ached from sleeping on a cot, and she said her mouth always tasted like dirt. Nothing but her loyalty to her son kept her in the woods. “Anna thinks we should make peace,” she said, her lips twitching in annoyance. “She’s invited all of us to Mary Anne’s birthday party tonight.”

  Jethro’s heart jumped up and down for joy. He had been hoping for an invitation. “That’s very nice.”

  Mamm scowled. “She had the nerve to insist that if Willie Jay comes, he isn’t allowed to say a word to Mary Anne. How dare she say such a thing? Willie Jay is a perfectly nice man, but when he sees sin, he can’t help but rebuke the sinner. He wouldn’t be doing his job as a minister if he didn’t.”

  Jethro took a deep breath. He loved his family, but Mary Anne was more important to him than a dozen bruders. “Anna is right. I don’t want Willie Jay to make Mary Anne uncomfortable.”

  Mamm narrowed her eyes. “Jethro, this has gone on long enough. You’re making it too easy for Mary Anne. She has to learn she can’t leave her husband without suffering the consequences.”

  Jethro squared his shoulders. “Ach, she’s learned her lesson all right. She’s lost her comfortable home, the respect and support of the gmayna, and the love of her in-laws. I’d say she’s suffered plenty of consequences yet.”

  The lines around Mamm’s mouth deepened until they seemed to be etched into her face. “She hasn’t lost my love. I still think of her like my own daughter.”

  “You don’t treat her that way.”

  “Just because I’ve tried to give her correction doesn’t mean I don’t love her. If you remember, you scolded her too.”

  Jethro scrubbed his hand down the side of his face. “You’re right, but I only made things worse. If I want her to come back, I shouldn’t do things that will push her away.”

  “Then let Willie Jay do the talking, and you be the nice one. She needs to hear it from somebody.”

  “In that case, Willie Jay can’t come to the party.” Jethro pressed his lips together, determined to do right by Mary Anne. “And neither can you.”

  Mamm harrumphed her indignation. “Anna invited me. It’s not your place to uninvite me.” She drew in a long breath and softened her expression. “It pains me that you think I would do anything to ruin Mary Anne’s birthday party.”
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  “So you won’t say anything?”

  Pain flashed in her eyes. “I won’t speak unless spoken to.”

  He hated to hurt his mamm like that, but Mary Anne’s feelings were the most important. If Jethro had anything to say about it, she would have the best birthday ever. She was going to love his present.

  Adam Wengerd trudged around the side of the house, across the lawn, and into the woods like a scholar on his first day of school. With his head down and shoulders slumped, he seemed more like an old man than a newlywed of only eight months. “Hallo, Adam,” Jethro said, unable to contain a smile. He’d been invited to Mary Anne’s birthday party. It was a wunderbarr day. “Wie gehts? Did you have a gute day at work?”

  Jethro felt a twinge of guilt that Adam was living out here in solidarity and Jethro didn’t even know what Adam did for work. Was he a lumberjack? A teacher? A buggy maker?

  Adam’s beard was coming in nicely for eight months’ worth of growing. He hooked his thumbs into his suspenders and squinted at Jethro against the bright afternoon sun. “Jethro, I really wanted to support you in your fight, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to break camp and go home.”

  This wasn’t horrible news. Jethro hadn’t asked anybody to camp in the first place, and Adam was the least useful, laziest camper of the bunch. He never helped clean up the dishes or gather firewood. He ate more than his share of food and complained about everything. Jethro pasted a concerned look on his face. “Is everything all right?”

  Adam leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I stopped by my house after work, and mei fraa was making pies and eating ice cream right out of the carton. She’s having a quilting frolic at our house tonight, and she told me to go back to the woods because she said I’d ruin the fun. I can’t understand it, but I’m beginning to suspect she likes it when I’m gone. This never would have happened if I hadn’t moved out in the first place.”

  Jethro nodded, his heart swelling in gratitude for the painful lessons Mary Anne had taught him. Maybe Mary Anne’s moving out would make some of the other men in the gmayna realize they needed to cherish their wives more than they did. Lord willing none of them would have to learn it the hard way like Jethro had. “I appreciate all the support you’ve given me, but I agree. You need to go home.”

  Adam frowned. “She’s not going to like it. She’s having a quilting bee.”

  Jethro curled one side of his mouth. “Shut yourself in the bedroom and don’t make a peep.”

  “Can I take the ice cream with me?”

  Jethro chuckled. “You’ll need to get permission.” He put a firm hand on Adam’s shoulder. “If your wife is happier when you’re out of the house, maybe you need to find out why.”

  Adam pursed his lips. “Maybe I do.”

  “Try to remember it’s probably your fault.”

  Jethro helped Adam take down his tent and pack up his gear. Jethro couldn’t regret Adam’s leaving. One fewer camper would ease the strain on the Porta-Potty. And the food supply.

  After dismantling Adam’s tent, Jethro sprinted into the house to take a quick shower. He wanted to smell good tonight in case, Lord willing, he was ever alone with Mary Anne. He wanted to kiss her again and again, and someone who smelled like an Irish spring was much more pleasant to kiss than someone who smelled like a Porta-Potty. The kiss last week at the lake had only whetted his appetite for more. He’d forgotten how nice it was to kiss his fraa. He’d never take it for granted again.

  David Eicher refused to cross the distance to attend Mary Anne’s birthday party. He didn’t like the Helmuths, and he was holding firmly to his position that Mary Anne was a sinner who didn’t deserve any compassion. Celebrating her birthday was out of the question. It wouldn’t surprise Jethro if David moved back home soon. He was getting grumpier by the day, and Mary Anne hadn’t shown any signs of budging. David could probably guess there was no end in sight.

  Norman Coblenz was nowhere to be seen, so they left without him. He was Mary Anne’s cousin. Maybe he’d already gone to the party.

  Jethro carried the rectangular pan that held Mary Anne’s birthday present while Dat hefted the Dutch oven of cheesy potatoes that was Mamm’s contribution to the meal. Everybody loved Mamm’s Dutch oven potatoes. Surely they would soften a few hearts tonight. Willie Jay and Mamm followed a few steps behind. Jethro had never seen such a petulant look on Willie Jay’s face, but he had assured them that he would keep his mouth shut, even if he was duty bound to call Mary Anne to repentance. He’d do it some time other than her birthday.

  The campfire danced merrily, and it looked as if the whole Helmuth family had turned out for the celebration. Sarah Beachy’s husband was there, as were two or three more of her sons. All the camping families surrounded the campfire, plus seven or eight other cousins and their families who must have been invited. Three Englischers Jethro didn’t recognize sat in three Green Bay Packer camp chairs trying to get some of die kinner to join them in a camp song that nobody knew but the Englischers.

  Jethro counted six long tables with benches set up on his back lawn. Had they been stolen from the gmayna? He pressed his lips together and looked away. He had enough to worry about without wondering about the church benches. There was a lot of chatting going on, as well as children running all over the place. There were at least three dogs and fifteen kinner running around on his lawn, dodging tables and benches.

  Anna caught sight of Jethro and his family ambling toward the campfire, and her eyes lit up like a sky of fireworks. “Jethro, Chris, Lois!” she called, working her way through the crowd of cousins, then grabbing Jethro’s sleeve and pulling him toward the circle of camp chairs. “I need to show you something.” Mamm, Dat, and Willie Jay followed. “Oh, and you brought Willie Jay. How nice.”

  There was barely room to move closer to the campfire, and he couldn’t see Mary Anne anywhere. Jethro handed his casserole dish to Pine, who stood at the fringes of the circle and seemed to need something to do. “I’ll come right back for this,” Jethro said.

  Pine nodded. “Okay.”

  Anna turned to Mamm. “I’ll return him shortly.”

  Mamm arched an eyebrow, but she stayed behind with Dat and Willie Jay as Anna pulled Jethro through the group at the campfire and over to the large canopy that housed Mary Anne’s latest quilt project. “You’re going to be so surprised.”

  A stunning red, white, and blue quilt, halfway quilted, sat under the canopy on a set of frames Jethro had made for Mary Anne a few months after they were married. Mary Anne had finished the quilt top last week. Jethro was in awe of her talent. Everything she touched bloomed with beauty.

  Anna pulled Jethro closer to the quilt. “Now, Jethro, before I show you, I want you to know I adore your parents—Lois makes the best spaghetti sauce in the gmayna—but I’m counting on you to keep Willie Jay well fed. He has good manners and won’t talk with his mouth full, so you’ve got to keep his mouth full. He’s the dearest man and I love him like I would a distant, unpleasant cousin, but I don’t want him upsetting Mary Anne.”

  Jethro nodded. “I’ll keep careful watch. We’ve already told him he’s not to talk about sin, marriage, Mary Anne, me, hell, or camping.”

  Anna drew her brows together in deep thought. “That should do it.” She suddenly bloomed into a smile. “Now, let’s talk about more exciting things.” She tugged him farther back, where the canopy walls had been rolled clear to the ground, and motioned into the dimness. “We can finally do solidarity again.”

  Jethro’s mouth fell open. A queen-size bed, complete with sheets, blankets, two fluffy pillows, and a headboard stood under the canopy next to two end tables and a dresser. There was even a hat stand holding two straw hats in the corner. Sparky lay at the foot of the bed, asleep in probably the most comfortable place he’d been for weeks.

  Anna patted the worn patchwork quilt on the bed. “I wanted to be a support for Mary Anne, and it felt like cheating to sleep in the house. Sarah finally gave in and had her boys
fetch our bedroom. They left the rug and the calendar. I can’t see that we need them.”

  Felty had to be elated. Camping had not been good to either of Mary Anne’s grandparents. Anna and Felty had been sleeping in the house ever since the motor home had almost driven away with them last week. Anna was afraid of being kidnapped, or worse, rolling all over the county in a driverless vehicle. But she hadn’t been satisfied with staying in the house long term.

  “Of course, we have to share our room with Mary Anne’s quilt, but there’s plenty of space. Our only problem will be when they need to use the canopy for the Labor Day auction. As long as it doesn’t rain that day, we should be fine to sleep under the stars.”

  Jethro jumped when a plump white chicken flapped out from under the bed, squawked in panic, and ran out of the canopy in the direction of the barn.

  Even in the dim light, Anna’s eyes twinkled. “I was wonderful worried about our chickens. Pine and Johnny brought all seventeen of them. It took four boxes. They’re such dears.”

  “They put the chickens in boxes?”

  Anna nodded. “Cardboard with air holes in the top. But I’m afraid we’ve lost at least three of them. Noah’s dog, Chester, chased them into the woods. Lord willing, they’ll come back. If not, you might have a flock of wild chickens in your woods come next spring.”

  More likely he’d have a flock of dead chickens come next spring. Chester was an obedient dog, but Jethro couldn’t blame him if he had an appetite for chickens. And then there were the foxes. There was a reason people had chicken coops. Jethro wouldn’t have told Anna that for the world. She was so happy to have her very own bedroom. She might not even notice the chickens disappearing during the night.

  Bob Hennig had come last Saturday to get his motor home. Jethro had shown him the damage done by the two brick walls, but Bob had said it would be easy to fix with some sandpaper and touch-up paint. He didn’t even seem troubled that Jethro had taken his RV to Shawano and back. “Motor homes are for driving,” he had said. He probably wouldn’t have been so cheerful about it if he had seen the way Jethro drove, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.