by Beth Shriver
“No matter what you do, it turns into your favor.”
“I hardly—”
“I was upset when you left, sad and lonely. That’s what brought John and me together.” She hit her head against the pillow. “I pushed things too far, and now I look a fool.”
Annie remembered how much Hanna used to think of others before herself. It saddened her that through all of this her sister had become indifferent and callous. “I don’t know what to say.”
Hanna turned to her. “You always know what to say.”
“You’ve changed, Hanna.”
“I wanted to change, to be better than I was.”
“You change when you stop trying to change, Hanna. You can’t force it. It just comes when it all fits.”
“I knew you’d figure out what to say.”
“I didn’t know if you wanted to hear it.”
“I don’t. I just wanted to see if it felt like it used to.”
Annie couldn’t imagine it did but hoped all the same.
“But it doesn’t.” Hanna rolled to her side, holding the bandage over her wound, and closed her eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
IT WAS SOON after fall communion that the couples who provided the proper credentials were published. This being known, many of the young adults fidgeted in their seats during the two-hour sermon.
Zeke listed the beliefs of the Amish. “We believe the Bible is the inspired Word of Gott, we believe in the Trinity, and we believe Christ died to save us from sin.”
So far Annie wholly agreed with everything he said. She’d learned not to automatically accept everything he stated, as she used to, but she felt all the wiser for it.
“As Romans twelve tells us, ‘Be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of Gott.’’
He didn’t look at Annie as he used to, but during that verse she thought she saw his eyes meet hers for a second.
After Sunday service Zeke boomed out the names as if he were Gott Himself. “Kenny and Lydia, Eli and Miriam, David and Emma…” The names went on.
Hanna snapped up her head up at the sound of David’s name. Annie was sure if he had been there, Hanna would have given him a mouthful. But all the couples were at the homes of the first bride-to-be having a private meal together, so David would have a reprieve until tomorrow.
“Did you know?” Annie asked as carefully as she could.
Hanna shook her head.
Frieda pushed her way in between them. “Ach, Hanna.”
Hanna stuck out her bottom lip, pressing her top lip against it. “It’s okay,” she replied more to herself than to answer Frieda.
As everyone left, murmurs were heard of congratulations to family members and talk of what good matches they were. Mamm took Hanna by the arm. “You’re too young, Hanna. That’s all. You’re too young.” And they marched out ahead of the crowd.
The next couple of weeks were filled with weddings, at least one a day, so they could then place their focus on the Thanksgiving holiday. After the ceremony the reception took place at the bride’s home. There was never a day away from chores, so the timing of the events varied greatly.
As Annie entered Emma’s home, she scanned the room. All the furniture was pushed to other rooms or against walls. There was a wooden bookshelf and tables of food from those who gathered to talk with the couple.
The bride and groom made a list of the couples who were dating and would be seated together during the meal. They sat with the bride and groom at the corners of two tables called the eck. Those married sat at the far side of the table. Emma called off the young ladies’ names and placed a hand at the chair they were to sit in.
When she had called out a fair number, Annie’s question was answered. At one time she and John would have been the first couple called. Now they might not be called at all.
“…and Annie Beiler.”
At the sound of her name, Annie’s senses were awakened. She glanced at John, who stood with his hands in his pockets, grinning, staring at the floor. Annie went to Emma and sat in the assigned seat. Then her eyes went to David, who was ready to call the young men to their places, and she knew it was he who suggested putting her and John together.
Leafy celery stalks in jars were set at the table for decoration. The meal itself was a feast, with Mamm’s roast beef, Miriam’s chicken, Alma’s best mashed potatoes, Mammi’s slaw, applesauce, and creamed celery made by the bride’s and groom’s mamms, and then came the dessert. When the meal was over, the party would continue on for hours, well into the night.
Annie finally had a moment alone with the hostess. “Emma, you look beautiful in that dress.” All the dresses were blue but newly made and different styles. Emma’s black hair and eyes stood out against the deep blue. “Annie.” She grasped her hand. “I’m so glad to see you.” She pulled Annie to a quiet place by the bookshelf. “Hanna’s upset, I know.” She wrung her hands. “I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I can’t. As soon as David and I started spending time together, I knew he was the one.”
“And you’re marrying age. Hanna understands that.” Annie wanted to save face for Hanna. Not that she deserved Annie’s help, but with the way things had gone for her lately, Annie couldn’t stand to let this go too. “Congratulations, Emma.” Annie kissed her on the cheek and went to find David. He was in the kitchen with a group of young men his age, most of whom were recently married or going to be soon.
“Any words of advice, David?” Jacob asked with candor.
David grinned. “I’m still looking for some myself.” They all chuckled in low baritone growls. He pointed around the room. “Who’s the first married guy here?”
Gerry held up his hand. “I’m the one first this year. So if you need to know anything, just come to me.” He stuck out his chin and bobbed his head with teasing bravado.
“Hey, Ruth.” David jokingly called Gerry’s wife’s name, looking beyond Gerry.
Gerry started and looked behind him to an empty space. They all laughed, enjoying the joke. David’s laughter ceased when he saw Annie, and he moved toward her.
“Congratulations, David.” She smiled convincingly.
“Danke, Annie.” He drew close to her. “How’s everyone at the Beiler house?”
“We’re on the mend. Healing, moving on with life.” When she looked into his eyes, she saw sincere joy and knew he was happy.
“Is Hanna doing well?”
“She’ll be fine. A lot has happened.”
“Jah, it has.” He leaned in closer. “Do you understand why…?”
“I don’t need to, but jah, I do.”
He nodded his appreciation. “So, you and John?” He shrugged.
“Maybe next year.” Annie’s heart pounded at the thought. It all seemed so real with many celebrations that had gone on recently.
David looked over her head, behind her, and nodded. Annie turned to see John a few steps behind her. Her eyes trailed up from his boots to his legs and then further up to his chest. Annie had never been intimate with him in any way, but still she knew every part of him—his physical features and, even more, who he was. At that moment, standing with him, she knew who she was too.
She took long, slow steps to him, smiling all the way over. “When did you come into the room?”
“Just now.” He turned and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “What are you thinking about?”
“All of this.” She raised her hands to the celebrating of new lives together. “And about this being us someday.”
“Someday?”
“Someday soon.”
His answer was a smile.
She grinned to herself, hoping he was seeing things her way a little more than he thought he would. They knew they needed time, but they also both knew this would have been them if the events of the past months hadn’t come between them.
David and Emma walked throu
gh the room hand in hand, ready to start the hymn-singing. Annie watched Hanna’s lifeless face as she stared at them. There would be more to come for her to endure—a weekend honeymoon was customary, then overnight visits with relatives who presented them with gifts. Annie mouthed the word time to Hanna, but she was saying it as much to herself as she was to Hanna.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
JOHN WAS READY to have a word with Amos and Sarah. He thought back to how long he’d waited for the right time before Annie left. This helped him find new courage in asking for her now.
Not finding Amos at home, he went to Mammi’s to find him. John tapped on the door and glanced at Becca’s withering garden. The cold fall nights had finally turned the colors to browns there, as in the hills and pastures. John thought of how long ago he helped Annie weed that garden right before she left. It now seemed like a long time ago. He was glad it was over but also realized now how important it was that she’d gone.
When Zeke answered the door, John felt like making a retreat, then thought maybe this was an opportunity to clear the air with him as well. “Minister Zeke.” He took a step inside, and Zeke closed the door behind him.
“I’m glad you’re here, John. Sarah is in here with us as well.” Zeke walked through the house as if he owned it and joined the ladies.
Mammi smiled pleasantly when she saw John. He took her hand. “How are you today?”
“I’m well, now that you’re here.” She glared at Zeke and began her knitting again.
He nodded to Sarah. “Morning.”
“Good morning, John. What brings you here?”
“I was looking for Amos.”
“He’ll be along soon.”
“How’s Hanna healing?”
“She’s well. Annie’s broken bone and Hanna’s wound seemed minor compared to what could have been done.”
Mammi piped in, “Hanna’s bumped and bruised too.” She scrunched her nose. “All black and blue. Poor girl. Wish they’d find that fella.”
Zeke laid a hand on her knee. “Now, Becca, the Lord is our avenger.”
“Yeah, that’s in due time. I’d like to see some now.” She yanked on the ball of yarn at her feet.
John couldn’t help but smile inside. So much for forgiveness today with the mood Mammi was in.
Zeke let out a long sigh and turned to John. “What did you need to speak to Amos about?”
John took caution; he didn’t want to show disrespect but preferred confidentiality with this matter. “I’d rather wait until he gets here.”
At that moment the front door opened and shut, and in walked Amos. His stature always made an impression impossible to ignore when he appeared in the room.
“Morning, all.” Amos sat next to Sarah on the couch and nodded to John. “Zeke, what’s this about?”
“I’ll get right to the matter.” Zeke sat up at the end of his chair. “I’d like to confirm with Annie that our set of practices are to provide a context for morality in her choices from here on out.”
“Could you explain that in English or Deitsch? Maybe Deitsch would work better,” Mammi requested brashly.
Zeke said it again in Deitsch.
“Still doesn’t make sense.” She looked over at the rest. “Does it make sense to you?”
Sarah was the first to answer. “I think what the minister is trying to say is that we want to be assured that Annie understands what she did was wrong and to make sure she doesn’t do anything unlawful again.”
Amos grunted. “I think we’ve done that.”
Zeke’s pensive eyes stuck on Amos for a moment and then slid to Sarah. “That is my concern.”
John couldn’t hold back. “Do you really think Annie will do anything to upset the rules again? She didn’t mean to do anything wrong the first time. She just wanted to meet her birth mother.”
Zeke held out a hand, palm down, to quiet him. “I only want to restate the oath that we are admonished to live a life that is separate from the world.”
“I think you made that clear in the service on Sunday.” Amos stood. “Are you going to leave now, or am I?”
Zeke’s look of surprise was priceless as he looked up at Amos with his beady eyes and small spectacles. “Amos, denial of this situation will only cause more grief—”
“This situation is over. My Annie’s been through enough.” Amos paused. “I guess it’s me that’s leaving.” He made his way to the door before Zeke could put two words together.
“Well, I suppose I’ll give him a minute before I leave. Ladies, John, I hope you all support me in—”
“I agree with Amos. This is done.” Mammi clicked her needles louder and faster, staring up at Zeke until his neck turned a blotchy red.
“I will bring this matter to the church board, gmayna, to see that the matter is closed.” He excused himself and stood.
It was silent until he left. Then Mammi started in. “I never liked him.”
“Mammi, don’t say things you’ll regret.” Sarah touched her arm.
“Ach, I won’t regret them, the welsh of a man.” She let out a breath and slowed the clickety clickety of the knitting needles.
Sarah looked to John. “I suppose Amos is in the barn if you need to talk with him.”
John nodded. “I reckon so.”
“Are you asking for Annie’s hand?” Mammi didn’t look up; she just kept clicking.
“Mammi,” Sarah hushed her.
“Well, look at him. He’s enamored, ferhoodled.”
Sarah shook her head and stood to get more tea. “Would you like something to drink, John?”
“Nee, thank you. I’ll be on my way.” He put a hand to Mammi’s shoulder. “I want to see that scarf when you’re finished. I like that color of blue.”
“I’ll save it for your wedding present.”
Sarah grunted with approval, then she turned to go into the kitchen.
John whispered, “I’ll look forward to it.”
Mammi smiled and tugged at the ball of yarn, satisfied.
John took in the country air as he walked to the barn. Hard chunks of dirt kicked up under his boots and crunched with each step. Amos wasn’t an easy man to talk to, but John knew Amos favored him, and that would be his advantage.
The double-sized wooden barn door slowly creaked open. John shut out the winter cold now approaching and searched for Amos, following his ears to the sound of tinkering in the workshop. Amos’s hobby was his tools. He adjusted, cleaned, and even invented ways to make them perform even better than the original tool maker.
“Hallo, John. You were right about this cold front moving in,” Amos greeted John before he was in the room.
John nodded. “What are you working on?”
Amos held a stripped-down sanding blade used for smoothing wood to make furniture. On the worktable before him was the knob that screwed into the cylinder. John couldn’t figure why he’d taken out the knob, which was the handle to move the sander back and forth across the wood.
Amos held up a clip. “This here will allow the knob to rotate laterally to adjust across the surface of the wood to improve the control.” Amos placed the clip and then the knob in the sander. “Here. Give it a try.”
John laid a scrap of pine on the workbench table. He moved the sander knob in between his thumb and first finger. The slight movement the clip created was forgiving in not keeping the tool in direct line with the previous stroke.
“Smooth as butter.” John continued until the entire piece of wood was sleek and smooth.
The edges of Amos’s lips lifted slightly—the most he ever smiled.
“The new and improved sander, by Amos Beiler,” John announced.
“Ahh, it’s just a little something.” Amos took the sander and tried it out himself. “Hmm,” was his noise of approval. He had never learned how to whistle, so he hummed instead.
It might be hard to get his attention off the sander and onto his eldest child. John leaned back on the worktable and waited
for a minute to see if he’d tire of testing out the tool. “You could get a patent for that design, you know.”
Amos waved the thought away. “Nee, wouldn’t want to do anything else to upset Zeke.” He stopped and felt the underside of the sander.
“Amish do it all the time. We create the tools that the Englishers use for hobbies. They spend a fine penny on those pastimes.”
Amos pursed his lips in thought, but only for a second. “You here about the sander?”
John crossed his arms over his chest for warmth. “I’m here about Annie.”
“Figured so.” Amos eyed jars of different nails and screws, which were glued to a shelf by the lids. He unscrewed one and fished out a tiny screw. “You two finally got things straight?”
“I think so. What do you think?”
“I’m just waiting.” He stopped his task and looked directly at John, a rare gesture. “You know I approve of the two of you together.”
“There’s no hurry. I just don’t want anything to interfere again.”
Amos paused a second time. “Hurry or wait. It doesn’t matter; there’s always going to be something that comes up.”
John slapped Amos on the shoulder. “We’ll make it through the next obstacle just like we did this one.”
“I know you will.” Amos screwed the jar back into the lid and began to work on his sander again. Their conversation was over.
Chapter Forty
WHEN THE BEILERS returned from church, they found a police car parked in front of the house. The same two officers were in the kitchen with Hanna. She’d missed church, saying she felt sick, grenklich. Annie thought it was more her spirit than any physical illness.
Amos hurried in with Mamm and the others close behind. Annie brought up the rear, catching the end of the conversation.
“We brought the driver in last night. He was pulled over for a DUI.”
“Hmm?” Mammi shook her head.
“Drinking and driving, ma’am,” the tall officer yelled to her.
“I’m not deaf. Just didn’t know what that stood for.”