15
Mary Elizabeth stood on the back porch with a basket of eggs she’d gathered and drew in a deep breath. There, she could just catch a hint of fall in the air. Her dat came out of the kitchen door and stopped beside her.
“You smell it, eh?” he asked, settling his hands on his hips and inhaling deeply.
She nodded. “Fall.”
He grinned. “You’re a farmer’s dochder.”
That she was. Once she’d thought she’d be a farmer’s fraa, but now who knew?
He turned back and held open the door. “Let’s have breakfast.”
She carried the eggs to the sink and washed them before placing them in a bowl and handing it to her mudder who had a cast iron skillet heating on the stove. She dropped several pats of butter into it and it sizzled. “Dippy eggs?” she asked her mann.
He nodded, sat at the table, and sipped his coffee.
Soon there was a platter of bacon and eggs and fried potatoes along with a basket of piping hot biscuits. A hearty breakfast always started the day even when it was still warm. After they’d prayed, Jacob split two biscuits and made a kind of breakfast haystack, placing bacon, then potatoes, the dippy eggs, and finally, some grated cheese atop it. Today, he ate it with a fork and knife, but some mornings when he was in a hurry he made a sandwich of it, wrapped it in a napkin, and ate it while he worked.
After they cleaned up the kitchen, he went out to his fields and Mary Elizabeth, Rose Anna, and their mudder went upstairs. Mary Elizabeth had delivered the last batch of completed quilts to Leah, and now it was time to sift through the sheaf of new orders and decide who would sew what.
Lavina would join them later, after she took care of cooking breakfast for David and doing her morning chores. She’d asked if she could sew some baby quilts because her mind was on the boppli she carried. Then, too, they were smaller projects, and she felt they were something she could manage right now. So those would be set aside for her.
As Mary Elizabeth looked through the orders Leah had given her the last time she delivered a box of quilts, she felt her heart race as she read them off to Mamm and Rose Anna: a nine-patch in holiday colors, a Dutch spinning star, a wedding ring quilt, an around-the-world quilt, a log cabin, and a patchwork sampler.
She asked to make the log cabin quilt. It would be the perfect way for her to welcome the new season. And the spinning star quilt, a great way to anticipate Christmas.
Rose Anna wanted the wedding ring quilt. She was such a romantic. And their mudder wanted the nine-patch to be made of autumnal colors and a patchwork sampler, a way to show off her knowledge of many Amish patterns. There were several baby quilts for Lavina and lap quilts for all of them to do after they finished the regular size quilts. A bounty of work indeed.
They began with a search of their shelves for the fabrics they’d need, and Mary Elizabeth knew that despite her dat’s teasing that they owned enough fabric to fill a shop, there would be at least one trip to Stitches in Time to choose more. The morning went quickly in a flurry of cutting material and discussing a plan of action for each.
As always Mary Elizabeth said a prayer of thanks to God for work she enjoyed in such pleasant surroundings. As she worked, she wondered what Sam was doing. She knew he loved his job as well, but for his main job the work involved working outside when the weather wasn’t so pleasant. Pennsylvania summers could be so hot, the winters so cold. And spring was so short its delightful temperatures were a fleeting memory. Almost ephemeral. She’d read that in a book once.
Now that the shop was up and running, she and Rose Anna would be going to the quilt class twice a week, so it was important to work productively. No daydreaming about Sam, she told herself. When she glanced at Rose Anna, she wondered if she had trouble concentrating since she’d become interested in Peter.
When it came time for a break, she hurried out to the phone shanty to check for messages and then chided herself for being disappointed that there weren’t any for her. She was acting like a lovesick maedel, and all that Sam had asked was to be friends again.
She walked back inside and gave her mudder a message that a friend of hers had called. “Peter didn’t call?” Rose Anna wanted to know.
“Nee. Sorry.” She poured herself a glass of iced tea, drank it, and headed back upstairs.
Lavina joined them a short time later. She’d had an appointment with the midwife that morning and was happy to report all was well with the boppli. She chattered about the visit as she studied the orders and then began choosing fabric.
Work went quickly. It was always fun to start a new project. Sometimes by the end of a long and complicated pattern, she was glad to complete it and move on.
Still, the excitement of the new quilt didn’t keep Mary Elizabeth’s mind from wandering as she sewed. The scent of fall in the air made her think about the big event of the season: weddings.
Ben had said he’d thought of asking her to marry him. She didn’t regret telling him she didn’t want to see him anymore, but the subject of marriage made her remember that this would be another wedding season that she remained a maedel . . . that she wouldn’t become a fraa.
She almost sighed but caught herself. A glance at the clock showed her it was nearly time for lunch. Maybe a break would help her forget about what wouldn’t be and concentrate on how gut her life was right now.
And she reminded herself there would be a boppli in the family at Christmas this year. It was so special to think that Lavina and David’s first child would be born in the month of the Christ child. She smiled, thinking of it.
“What are you smiling about?” Lavina asked her as they walked downstairs to have lunch.
She told her about her thoughts, and now Lavina smiled.
“It’ll be a special Christmas for schur.”
* * *
“It’s a lot to think about, isn’t it?”
Sam glanced at Peter as he drove them home. “Thanks for going along to see that agricultural agent. My head is swimming with facts and figures and financing strategies.” He sighed. “It sure is.”
Peter patted his ever-present notebook sitting on the front seat in between them. “I took notes for you.”
Sam chuckled. “I noticed. Thanks.” He’d taken his own but was sure Peter’s were superior.
They drove past the farm on the way to Peter’s house. Peter didn’t remark on how it was the longer way to get to his house. He knew Sam drove by the farm often.
“Jason certainly had an interesting idea about talking to the widow about her holding the mortgage.”
The very idea had struck Sam speechless for long moments. “But she wants to sell and when she can get cash, why wouldn’t she?”
“I don’t know. But it’s something you should discuss with her.”
Sam thought about it as the miles sped past.
“Have you told Mary Elizabeth?”
“Told her what? About a dream that might not go anywhere?”
“Maybe you won’t get this farm,” Peter said reasonably. “But I think Mary Elizabeth would be encouraged to hear that you’re interested in it, in returning to the community.”
Sam pulled into the drive of Peter’s home and sat there with the engine running.
“That’s what it means, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Sam said finally. He shut off the engine and rested his head on the seat.
“That’s a gut thing.”
“I know.” He sat up. “Gotta go home, fix supper.”
“No ramen noodles, huh?”
“No.”
“Think about coming to church on Sunday.”
“I will.”
Peter gathered up his trusty notebook and lunch box and got out. “See you tomorrow.”
“Thanks again for meeting with Jason with me.”
“You’re welcome. Pray about it.”
“I will.”
Sam wasn’t sure if tiredness or discouragement weighed heavier on his shoulders. Maybe th
ey were both one and the same. He could handle long days of hard physical work whether it was construction or farming, but this trying to figure out how to buy the farm was wearing him down.
He found himself driving past Mary Elizabeth’s house. He didn’t often do it. In the past he’d stayed in town. The Amish community he’d left had been verboten. Now, when he often dropped Peter off after they worked their second job together, he often found himself driving past her house and wondering what she was doing. They saw each other as often as possible, but it couldn’t be every night since he and Peter were putting in so many hours on the Smith house.
As he passed it, he saw someone sitting on the front porch. He slowed. It was Mary Elizabeth. When she saw his truck, she waved, so he took it as an invitation to pull into the driveway and get out.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked her as he climbed the steps to the porch.
“Just smelling fall.”
“Huh?”
She laughed and drew her shawl around her shoulders. “Can’t you feel it? Can’t you smell it?”
He lowered himself into the rocker, set it to moving with his foot, and took a deep sniff. “You’re right. I’ve been inside much of the day.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her about the farm. But he had nothing to tell her. She didn’t need to know about this dream that might never happen.
“Fall was always your favorite season.”
She nodded. “Cooler than summer, warmer than winter. And lasts longer than spring in Lancaster County. Of course, nearly everything lasts longer than spring here.”
Sam chuckled. “True.”
“It won’t be long before Christmas. We’ve been sewing quilts for customers to give for Christmas gifts for months, so it’s been on my mind.”
“The Smiths have asked us to have the first repairs to their house done before Christmas so they can spend it there,” he told her. “Then we’ll be doing the other work in stages. This way they can move out of her parents’ house and be in their own.”
“There’ll be a first for David and Lavina this Christmas, too.”
It took him a moment to remember. “Their first boppli.” When she stared at him in surprise, he stopped rocking. “What?”
“It’s been a long time since I heard you use Pennsylvania Dietsch.”
He shrugged. “Don’t have much need to use it around the Englisch when I work.”
“I guess not.”
They sat in a silence that was comfortable.
“Did you eat?”
“Peter got us subs for lunch. There’re some leftovers in the refrigerator at home for supper.”
“Men schur do love their subs.”
“Quick and cheap,” he admitted.
“There’s some pie left from supper.”
“Wouldn’t turn down pie.”
She got to her feet. “You didn’t even ask what kind.”
“Since when did it matter?”
She slapped at her arm. “Maybe we should have it inside. Mosquitoes are still hanging around here.”
He followed her inside. Jacob sat reading The Budget in his recliner while Linda knit a small blanket in a pale green yarn. For Lavina’s boppli? he wondered. They nodded and said hello as Mary Elizabeth and Sam walked through the room to the kitchen.
Abe sat at the table cutting himself a large wedge of pie.
“Grossdaadi! You’re eating another piece?”
He looked up guiltily and dropped the knife. “It’s really gut pie.”
“You had two pieces at supper. Mamm will be fussing at you if she finds out.”
“Now who’s going to tell her?” he asked craftily.
Mary Elizabeth shook her head. “She has a way of finding these things out.”
She walked over, picked it up, and set it in the sink. Then she got a clean knife from a drawer, cut the slice for him, and set it on a plate. “Maybe you should take it into the dawdi haus and eat it.”
“You schur you don’t just want to be alone with Sam here?” he asked, and his eyes twinkled behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
Sam watched her blush as she poured coffee for the three of them.
When they heard footsteps approach the kitchen Abe quickly slid the plate of pie before Sam.
“What’s this? More pie?” Linda asked as she came into the room. She looked directly at Abe.
“Just having a last cup of coffee,” he said with an innocent expression. He poured sugar into his cup and stirred it.
“That’ll keep you up tonight,” Linda warned him. “It’d be better if you had some chamomile tea before you went to bed.” She put the teakettle on the burner and turned up the gas flame.
He wrinkled his nose. “Don’t want to drink flowers, danki.” He drank his coffee and watched Sam eat the pie.
Linda fixed her cup of tea and walked out of the room. Mary Elizabeth quickly cut a piece of pie and put it before her grossdaadi.
“I know what you’re doing.”
Mary Elizabeth dropped the knife as her mudder’s voice drifted back into the room.
“Did she develop that ability after she had us kinner or did she always have it?” she asked him.
He chuckled. “After she had you kinner.” He ate the pie quickly.
“All mudders have it,” Sam said.
Abe nodded. “Well, I’m off to bed. Stop by early enough for a game of checkers some night, Sam.”
“I will.”
After the older man shuffled off to the dawdi haus and shut the door, Sam turned to Mary Elizabeth. “I’m coming to church Sunday. Could we go for a drive, maybe a picnic afterward? I’ll stop at the store and get some food.”
“That would be wunderbaar. Church and the picnic, I mean. I’ll make some fried chicken, though. It’s my turn. You got us subs last time.”
“It’s not about turns.”
“Nee, but I’d like to make the fried chicken.”
“I’ve missed it, so I’ll let you.” He smiled and stood. “Danki for the pie and coffee. ’Til Sunday, then.”
“ ’Til Sunday.”
She walked with him out to the front porch.
“Stars are out,” he said, looking up. “Don’t see as many of them in the city. Too many lights.” He turned back for one last look at her. “I’m glad I stopped on the way home after I dropped off Peter.”
“Me too. Drive careful.”
This time he felt lighter, less tired and discouraged as he headed home.
* * *
It felt gut to see Sam in church on Sunday.
Men and women sat in separate sections for church so he didn’t sit next to her. But all though the three-hour service she could think about how they’d go for a drive and a picnic afterward. Well, she tried to keep her thoughts off afterward and concentrate on the church, but it was hard.
There was speculation as to why he was there today after his absence of more than a year. But when church was over, members greeted him and spoke to him. Some of the men slapped him on the back in the way of men. Some of the maedels said hello and gave him flirtatious looks even as they slid their glances toward Mary Elizabeth. No matter how couples tried to keep others from knowing, word got around when they were seeing each other—that they were “taken.”
Mary Elizabeth did her stint in the kitchen helping serve and clean up after the light meal while Sam helped setting up the tables. When she was finished, she went looking for him and saw he was talking with the bishop out on the front porch. She lingered at the door for a long moment, wondering what was being said, then had to step aside when someone wanted to leave.
She wasn’t being nosy. She wasn’t. Part of her felt protective of Sam. What if the bishop wasn’t being nice to him. What if he was asking Sam if he intended on returning to the church and Sam wasn’t ready yet. She’d heard stories of how sometimes those who had left were pressured much too hard to return. Those who’d pushed too hard defended themselves by saying they were trying to s
ave the person.
Mary Elizabeth took a deep breath and walked back to the kitchen. Sam was a grown man capable of taking care of himself. He didn’t need her to do that.
A few minutes later when he appeared in the doorway looking for her, she was able to smile and join him in leaving the house and walking out to where Peter was hitching up his buggy.
Peter had brought Sam to church so he took him and Mary Elizabeth back to his house for Sam’s pickup truck. He’d told her he didn’t want to offend anyone by driving up in the truck to the home where church was being hosted.
“Everything allrecht?” Peter asked, looking closely at Sam. “I saw you talking with the bishop on the porch.”
“It’s fine.”
So she wasn’t the only one who’d been concerned. Peter was a gut friend to Sam.
Sam took the picnic basket from Mary Elizabeth and helped her into the buggy. He put the basket in the back after making a joking sniff of it.
“Fried chicken?”
“Of course.”
The two men talked about plans for work the following week and then Peter was pulling into his driveway and Sam and Mary Elizabeth got out, retrieved the basket, and headed for his truck.
“Mind if we go someplace new?” Sam asked her as they drove.
“No.”
“I saw a nice park outside town one day when I took a drive. I think you’ll like it.”
He was quiet on the drive. Not that he talked a lot. None of the men she knew did . . . not just Sam and his bruders. Her own dat didn’t talk much, either. Today, though, when she glanced at him now and then, she felt that his mind was elsewhere.
“Something bothering you?”
He looked over at her. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired. Been a long week.”
“How’s the work coming on the Smith house?”
“Good. They’re a nice couple to work for.”
He pulled into a pretty little park she’d never visited in town, and they spread a quilt on the grass. Mary Elizabeth pulled out containers of fried chicken, macaroni salad, baked beans, and deviled eggs. The family had eaten so much of the popular summer favorites, but she figured Sam probably hadn’t. He had seconds of everything—three of the eggs—and two brownies.
Seasons in Paradise Page 18