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The First Love

Page 12

by Beverly Lewis


  “Well, you have her pretty blue eyes and her tiny nose.”

  “Tiny noses are a gut thing, jah?”

  That made Maggie laugh. “You’re a case, ya know it?”

  “That’s what Mamm always said.”

  “You miss her, I know.”

  “Jah, but keep it a secret from Rachel,” Miriam whispered.

  “Oh, but she understands. Of course she does.”

  Miriam looked up at Maggie. “Are ya sure?”

  “Trust me.” She nodded.

  “I do.” Miriam snuggled closer. “I honestly do.”

  When the call came for the second seating, Maggie took the liberty of keeping Miriam with her, since Grace would likely be sitting with Hallie. Besides, Miriam brought joy to Maggie today, on a difficult Lord’s Day—especially so now that Maggie could see Jimmy at the next table over with Cousin Deborah’s two brothers, Chester and Edwin.

  Will they be his future in-laws? Maggie thought miserably.

  Before supper, Rachel heard Joseph and the boys washing up outdoors after doing barn chores, their voices coming through the side door, which was open wide to let in the fresh air, warm and humid though it was.

  Later, once all of them were seated in their regular spots, Joseph folded his callused hands and bowed his head for the table blessing. After a few moments, he raised his head and cleared his throat to signal the end of the prayer.

  Rachel wasn’t prepared for the conversation that ensued as the sandwiches and chow chow were passed around. Joseph began by saying how glad he was to see Leroy present at the supper table. Why was her husband bringing this up now, singling Leroy out like this? True, Joseph had been displeased that his son was gone during the meal last evening. And later, when Maggie was off at the tent meeting.

  “We’re a family,” Joseph said solemnly, “all of us.” He looked directly at Leroy.

  “I shouldn’t have skipped out on supper yesterday,” Leroy said. “But I’m not tellin’ anyone where I went.” He stared at his tumbler of cold water.

  “Well, and I’m not pryin’,” Joseph said. “I just assumed you’d gone on foot to see one of the cousins.” Joseph reached for the salt and pepper.

  Rachel felt her stomach knot up and wished they’d saved this discussion for any other time, sparing the rest of them. Maggie, too, looked concerned it might move into something too heated for suppertime talk.

  Leroy shifted in his seat, then eyed his father. “Guess I might as well say it—I walked clear up to the cemetery . . . to be with Mamm” came the stark words.

  Miriam’s mouth turned down. “But Mamm’s gone,” she said sadly, blinking fast.

  Leroy winced, his own gaze still on his father. “Jah,” he murmured.

  “Aw . . . son.” Rachel’s words tumbled out before she realized it. She held her breath, knowing Leroy could well respond negatively.

  After a long moment, Leroy looked across the table at her, yet he said nothing.

  “I had no idea,” Joseph said, his tone gentle now. “The cemetery?”

  Leroy slowly nodded. “No one but the Lord God knew.”

  Sitting there, Rachel’s heart ached for him; the struggle to remain strong was apparent in every feature of his youthful face.

  “I miss Mamm, too,” Stephen murmured quietly. “Awful much.”

  Andy was nodding his head, too, his chubby cheeks stuffed with food like a squirrel hoarding nuts.

  “It’s all right to talk about your Mamm in front of me,” Rachel said softly. “She’ll always be your mother . . . it’s only right that yous remember her together like this.”

  “Rachel’s right,” Joseph said, smiling at her, then at the children. “It’s important to keep your Mamm’s memory alive.”

  Surprised at the scope of emotions just displayed, Rachel decided that it was good this conversation had taken place over supper, all of them together.

  A step forward in the right direction, she thought, hoping it was true.

  Even so, a small emptiness unlocked in her, a sense that she might never find her own place of belonging in Joseph’s family.

  But that’s all right, she thought, dismissing her discontent. With God’s help, I’ll honor their dear Mamm by taking good care of them.

  19

  Rachel, Grace, and Miriam started pinning the first load of washing on the line a half hour after dawn the next morning. Nellie was out doing the same, and she asked Rachel how Maggie was feeling.

  Rachel was about to reply when Grace spoke up. “She’s still resting . . . had a bad night.”

  Feeling worse after being up reading so late.

  Rachel recalled that Nellie had emphasized how important it was for Maggie to rest.

  “I wonder if Siggy’s with her again.” Miriam giggled.

  Nellie replied, “That cat knows better than to leave mei Haus.”

  “Sometimes I wish we had a few cows,” Miriam said unexpectedly. “Havin’ a cow or two might help Maggie feel better. She sure needs somethin’.”

  “How on earth would havin’ a cow make anyone feel better?” asked Grace, who seemed as puzzled as Rachel felt.

  “I don’t know,” Miriam said. “Our cousins have ’em, and they’re always happy!”

  Nellie tittered, looking pretty in her dark blue sunbonnet. “Cows are right friendly animals. They seem to listen to ya.” She went on to tell how she had two favorite family cows when she was a young woman. “If I ever felt sad, I’d go out to the barn and spend time with them, telling ’em my courting woes.”

  “Would ya trade your cat for a cow?” Miriam asked, giggling.

  Rachel enjoyed seeing them banter like this, something she’d enjoyed with her own family growing up. Something she missed, living so far from home.

  Grace reached into the clothespin bag and glanced toward the house. “Should one of us check on Maggie?” she asked.

  Miriam took that as her cue to leave her basket of damp clothes behind and run to the house, her skirt tail flying as she ran barefoot across the thick lawn.

  Nellie reached to pin her blue Sunday dress on the line. “I hear Joseph plans to have the old stable torn down and the new one built.”

  “He’s been savin’ up to rebuild, jah.”

  “Will they start flattening the present one soon?” Nellie asked.

  “This Thursday they’ll begin. Joseph has a crew of men lined up to get it done quickly,” Rachel said. “Shouldn’t take more than a week for the demolition and rebuild.”

  “And Joseph can get off work to help?” asked Nellie.

  “He’s already talked to the mill owner, and since he hasn’t missed a day of work in years, it’s not a problem.” Rachel smiled at all of Nellie’s questions, glad for an older woman to talk to—Nellie seemed genuinely interested in her life. Mamm would ask the same sort of things if she lived closer, thought Rachel, wishing she might visit her childhood home soon.

  Three days later, a good number of men from Joseph’s family arrived to move the contents of the existing stable to the barn prior to the demolition. The horses, ponies, and mules were turned out to graze in the pasture for the duration of the project.

  Rachel was more than willing to supply meals for Joseph’s brothers, nephews, and two cousins, as well as a few men from die Youngie. She, along with some help from Grace and Maggie, decided on various recipes to cook for everyone who had offered free labor. Rachel didn’t mind having extra feet under the long kitchen table; this was the way of the People back home in Myerstown, too.

  Before the noon meal, Lillian Beiler brought over big bowls of baked beans and potato salad, since her sons, Jimmy and Danny, were two of the young men involved in the demolition. Lillian didn’t stay to help serve the food, but Rachel was thankful for the extra dishes. “This is a big help.”

  Maggie, however, seemed cautious about Lillian’s arrival, although Rachel noticed that she was polite by engaging in a brief conversation while chopping lettuce for a garden salad. But the min
ute Lillian left to return to her horse and buggy, Maggie got real quiet, then excused herself to go out and sit on the porch.

  What’s troubling her? Rachel wondered with a glance at Grace, who seemed oblivious as she set the table for the menfolk. Maggie hasn’t been herself since the first night she went to that tent crusade.

  ———

  Maggie felt bad about leaving Rachel and Grace alone in the kitchen like that, but she needed to step outdoors for a little while before the men came in for dinner. She could see Jimmy Beiler out there working with his brother and the others and realized he must have gotten permission from the smithy to miss work for the day. The farmers, of course, would rotate doing their chores, unless they had sons old enough to cover for them.

  She sighed as she observed the teamwork, nearly like a reverse barn raising as the men carefully dismantled any salvageable materials. The teardown was going smoothly, and reconstruction would begin next Monday.

  At that instant, a holler went up, and suddenly Jimmy turned from his work and ran toward the pump, one hand clutching his bleeding arm. Right away, he began to pump with his other arm until a powerful stream of cold water splashed over the wounded forearm.

  Maggie managed her way inside to the small bathroom around the corner from the kitchen, where they kept mercurochrome, gauze, and tape. Gathering them up in her long black apron, she limped back outside to Jimmy.

  “Here, let me help,” she said as he knelt in the grass, applying pressure to his wounded arm with the handkerchief he kept in his pocket.

  Gently, she applied antiseptic to the cut, touching the wound only with the clean gauze, which she took great care to wind firmly but not too tightly before taping it off, much as she’d seen Mamm do over the years.

  “Looks like I’ve got my own nurse,” he said with a grin. “Glad the cut’s not too deep. I hate getting stitches.”

  “Well, it’s deep enough, so be careful. You want the bleeding to stop before you start work again,” she advised, thankful for his help carrying the items back to the porch, where she put them along the rail and encouraged him to sit and rest until the noon meal. “Gut thing you’re right-handed,” she said, more shy now that she thought about how close she’d been to him. I only did what any caring person would, she told herself.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, but he sat on one of the rocking chairs anyway. “Denki, Maggie.”

  She laughed. “My brothers are tough when they’re injured, too, but it’s also nice to have someone look out for you.”

  Jimmy smiled pensively and motioned for her to sit on the rocking chair nearest him. “This is good. I’ve been wantin’ to talk to ya, Maggie, but didn’t know how to go about it.”

  “Well, here we are, talkin’, jah? Sometimes things just turn out.”

  They shared a laugh, and she was struck by how comfortable she felt around him, despite the flutters in her stomach. She wondered what he was going to say, though. What if it was something about her cousin Deborah? How awkward!

  “I ran across something that’s helped one of my aunts . . . my Mamm’s younger sister.” He dug into his pocket. “In fact, she has far less arthritic pain now as a result.”

  “Oh?” It took a moment for Maggie to register this. So Jimmy does pity me. . . . She wanted to disappear.

  “It’s a blend of herbs and minerals,” he said, unfolding an ad and handing it to her. “You can read it for yourself.”

  She recognized the name of the health food store in Strasburg and began to read the testimonials on the ad. When she finished, she told him, “To be honest, I’ve already tried oodles of remedies.” She didn’t go on to explain that she’d experimented with everything from chiropractic care to herbs to osteopathy when Mamm was still living. Mamm had taken her to other doctors, as well, after Dawdi Reuben had suggested seeing a Brauchdokder, a sympathy healer or powwow doctor who used chants and other strange doings to “cleanse” folk of illness. Thankfully, Dat had nixed that dangerous nonsense right off.

  “I just thought that since my aunt was helped, maybe it’d be worth a try for you,” Jimmy said, still rocking as he talked.

  Maggie looked at the ad again and gasped at the price. “Ach, it’s expensive.”

  “Maybe the deacon would let some of the alms account be used for it,” he suggested quietly. “Don’t see why not.”

  “This is kind of you, Jimmy, but I’ve lost faith in products and procedures that claim to heal.”

  He nodded slowly, then shrugged. “Hope I haven’t upset ya. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to let ya know ’bout it.”

  She shook her head. “Denki.” His kindness was no surprise. Jimmy had always been very thoughtful.

  “Keep the ad,” he said, “in case ya change your mind.”

  He seemed sincere enough. Was it pity?

  Who cares why he told me, she thought now, slipping the folded ad into her dress pocket as they continued to rock there on the porch. If it helped his aunt, maybe it’ll help me.

  Impulsively, she asked, “Have you ever heard of healings that come from bein’ prayed over?” The words just slipped out.

  Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Why do ya ask?”

  “Just been wonderin’ about it.” Since he hadn’t answered right off, she decided not to open up further on this, not when it was something the People rarely talked about. It was enough to be able to discuss that subject with Aunt Nellie. Maggie thought of the old quilt on her bed, and the fervent prayers of the women who had come together to make it.

  “Well, Jesus healed the sick when He walked this earth, and so did His followers,” Jimmy volunteered now.

  Pleased, Maggie nodded and wondered when he, too, had discovered the accounts of healing in the New Testament.

  And while she wanted to talk more about that, right then, Grace walked out onto the porch to ring the dinner bell.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Maggie said to Jimmy, scooting forward on the rocker before trying to stand without her cane.

  “Here, I’ll help.” He rose quickly and offered his good hand, the wounded arm wrapped securely in the bandage.

  She accepted. “Denki.”

  Jimmy flashed a smile. “Ya know, it wasn’t too bad hurting my arm today, after all.”

  Maggie felt her cheeks growing warm as they walked around to the side door together.

  When Maggie had done her small part to help Grace and Miriam clean the main level of the house later that afternoon, she hobbled out to the back porch and sat down. There, she watched her uncles and male cousins load the old beams onto the back of a flatbed truck driven by an obliging English neighbor from up the road. The beams would be reused on a different structure elsewhere.

  Maggie was aware that Jimmy and the other younger fellows had already left for supper. She was still trying to make heads or tails of the unexpected conversation with him earlier. What does it mean? Was he just being friendly . . . wanting to help?

  It was some time later, when the remaining work crew had left after cleanup, that Dat came for some cold lemonade. His sleeves were still rolled up past his elbows, revealing arms that were bright red from the sun.

  Maggie followed him indoors, wanting to do as much as possible to help with food preparation. She sometimes sensed that Rachel wished she might do more, though her stepmother was too kind to say. Unfortunately, there were times when Maggie simply wasn’t up for as much as Grace or even Miriam, and it was in those instances that the disparity between Maggie and her sisters was most noticeable. Rachel grew up around energetic, healthy sisters, Maggie thought as she adjusted her work apron.

  Now she carefully carried a bowl of pickled beets to the table, then returned to the counter, where she placed green olives in a dish. She looked at the day clock, and Glenn Brubaker’s wise remark came to mind: “Seek the Healer and not the healing.”

  Sighing, she believed she was doing just that, because these days, her time spent reading the Good Book was the thing that brought her the mos
t joy.

  The next afternoon, Rachel, Grace, and Miriam had finished hoeing the family vegetable garden and were indoors drinking cold root beer when Aunt Nellie came through the connecting hallway. Maggie saw her before she heard the soft footsteps and her hullo.

  At first, it seemed Nellie had come only to visit, bringing a freshly made coconut cream pie. But in a few minutes, she mentioned the same health food store ad that Jimmy had shown to Maggie.

  Maggie cringed. This again, she thought, not yet having talked to Dat about it due to the expense.

  “I’ll leave it for Joseph,” Aunt Nellie said, placing the ad near the cookie jar with a twinkle in her eye. “He’ll be sure to see it here, jah?”

  Maggie felt she ought to speak up. “Thanks, Aendi. But ya know nothin’s ever worked before,” she said politely. “Truth be known, a friend of mine showed me the very same ad.”

  “All right, then.” Nellie gave a little shrug. “Just thought ya might want to see it.”

  Maggie sighed. “If it’s God’s will for me to be like this, He’ll give me the grace to endure it,” she said, glad Rachel was present, too. “I trust Him to take care of me. I honestly do.”

  Aunt Nellie’s face broke into a beautiful smile. “And that, my dear, is the very best way to live.”

  Rachel, too, was smiling, though she also looked rather befuddled.

  “So is it too early for a slice of your coconut cream pie, do ya think?” Maggie asked.

  “Pie’s for eatin’,” Nellie said with a shake of her head. “That’s why I brought it over.”

  “Denki.” Gingerly, Maggie got up and went over to give Nellie a hug for more than just the surprise treat.

  20

  The following Monday morning, while her father and the men began to build the new stable, Maggie felt up to taking the pony and cart to Betsy Lapp’s Bakery and Craft Shop. Leroy helped her hitch up, and when he asked where she was headed, she just shrugged, not really wanting anyone to know. She just needed some time alone.

  While driving nestled in the heavily padded seat, Maggie’s heart lightened, and she found herself talking to God in a new way. She had been praying often lately, and it felt really wonderful.

 

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