The First Love

by Beverly Lewis

  At the sight of the beautiful fruit, Nellie clapped her hands. “My mouth’s waterin’.” She eyed Maggie. “You carried these over on your own?”

  “Jah, I’m doin’ fine,” Maggie said, tickled to bring her such happiness. “I’ll help ya bake up some cobbler, if you’d like.”

  Nellie smiled but shook her head at the suggestion. “I know you’ve got plenty to do next door, but it’s nice of you to offer.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.”

  Maggie gave Nellie a gentle hug and headed for the back door. “I’d best get back to help Rachel with the noon meal.”

  “All right, then,” Nellie called to her. “So gut seein’ ya so perky, Maggie-bird.”

  “You too, Aendi!” She laughed as she opened the screen door and went around to the main house.

  That afternoon, Maggie helped Leroy sharpen the blades of the push mower. Her brother had been pitching manure onto the spreader with Andy while Stephen and Grace tended Sam Zook’s roadside vegetable stand for a few hours. Sam was running an errand, and Ruth was busy canning peaches with her married daughters.

  “You sure you’re up to this?” Leroy asked Maggie as they worked together.

  “It’s time I did my share round here.”

  “You surprise me, sister . . . peppy as ya are.”

  “I think everyone’s surprised, me most of all,” she replied. “But just now I feel wunnerbaar . . . and I’m ever so thankful.”

  Leroy nodded his head and cast a smile her way. “Even Danny Beiler’s talking ’bout it—the whole Beiler family is.”

  Maggie stared at him. “What on earth?”

  Leroy grinned. “And it’s not just Danny and his family . . . some of my other friends are talkin’ about it, too.”

  “Well, what’re they sayin’?”

  “That those pills must be heaven-sent,” Leroy said, squatting down to get under the lowest blades of the push mower. “I wonder if the health food store’s gonna sell out of them.”

  “God does use herbs and medicines to heal,” she said, “but I doubt that many folk would need this particular pill.”

  Leroy just kept working to rotate the mower’s blades, not replying now.

  She caught herself smiling at the notion of Jimmy’s brother talking about her health. But Maggie wouldn’t let her imagination take over, running away with hopes and dreams about being more than friends with Jimmy. Since he hadn’t asked her out yet, Jimmy might just have his eye on another girl. After all, he’s had plenty of chances in the past couple of weeks, she thought.

  Fatigued and hot though she was, Maggie kept pushing the newly sharpened mower over the grass on the south side of the house, past Mamm’s pretty roses and around the front to Aunt Nellie’s little front porch and back. She leaned hard into the mower, thanking God for everything in sight—the old hickory tree, the fertile soil for the flower beds and the family vegetable garden beyond, the little potting shed where Mamm and now Rachel worked with cuttings and whatnot. She was also thankful for the flock of birds high in the sky to the east just now, her brother Leroy working so diligently and so pleasantly, and for her own renewed health.

  “If I live as long as Aunt Nellie, Lord, please help me remember to be as grateful as she is,” Maggie said. In the backyard, she stopped to pick up twigs near the base of a tree. As she leaned down, she heard Miriam talking to Rachel through the kitchen window.

  “You oughta rest,” Miriam said, her small voice insistent. “Should I go an’ get Maggie?”

  Hearing this, Maggie stopped what she was doing and went around to the side door. There, she discovered Rachel sitting on the bench, her back to the table and her head between her knees.

  Quickly, Maggie went to the sink and drew water, then opened the drawer and grabbed a clean washrag. She ran the cool water over it and wrung it out loosely before going to Rachel and placing it on the back of her neck. Mamm had done this many times for Maggie and the other children when they were overheated in the summertime or had a queasy spell.

  Without speaking, Maggie sat next to her stepmother and pressed the cloth against her neck, then after a minute or so, turned it over to the cooler side to do the same.

  “I thought she might faint,” Miriam said, wide-eyed as she crept near. “Will she be all right?”

  Maggie nodded. She offered her free hand to Miriam, who came to sit quietly next to her. “Dear Lord God,” Maggie began to pray softly, “be with Rachel and take care of her. I trust Thee to help her, in Jesus’ name.”

  For what seemed like a long time, Maggie kept turning the cloth and resting it against Rachel’s slender neck, keeping quiet, since she knew how little she herself liked to be questioned when nauseated. And as she soothed Rachel, Maggie began to feel closer to this woman who’d so swiftly come into their lives.

  At last, Rachel slowly raised her head and sat up, taking a long, deep breath. “Didn’t mean to worry yous,” she said in a near whisper.

  “Let’s get ya to my room. You can lie down there,” Maggie said. With Miriam’s help, they guided Rachel through the sitting room and into Maggie’s bedroom.

  “Don’t fret about a thing, Rachel. Miriam and I will finish makin’ supper,” Maggie told her as she helped lift her legs up onto the bed. “Just rest for as long as you need to.”

  She left the door open in case Rachel called for them. Then she and Miriam went quietly to the kitchen.

  “Rachel got too hot or somethin’ when she was cookin’ supper,” Miriam said.

  “Maybe so.” But Maggie remembered how their mother had suffered with nausea before Stephen and Miriam were born and wondered now if Rachel might be in the family way. After all, she had also been real tired here lately, which wasn’t like her at all.

  “I’ll check on the turkey and rice casserole, an’ you set the table,” Maggie told Miriam, opening the oven.

  Miriam did what she was told, then said, “I’ve never heard ya pray like that before, Maggie.”

  “For Rachel, ya mean?”

  “Jah, out loud and whatnot. I liked it.”

  Maggie smiled. “Well, Aunt Nellie prays like that, too, at least privately.”

  “I like to pray the Lord’s Prayer sometimes when I’m alone,” Miriam said, coming to open the utensil drawer for more forks. “But I just say it to myself.”

  “Sometimes I say it softly before I fall asleep,” Maggie admitted.

  Miriam looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Ya think it’s all right with God?”

  “That’s the very prayer He taught His disciples to pray.”

  “Are we His disciples, too?”

  Maggie smiled and walked to the table. “Disciples just means followers, so jah, we certainly are.”

  Miriam came over and hugged her waist. “How’d ya get to be so schmaert?”

  “Oh, I have lots to learn yet.”

  “But you know more’n me, that’s for sure.”

  Maggie paused a second. “That’s because I’ve been readin’ the Good Book.”

  A light seemed to go on in Miriam’s eyes. “Then I’ll try an’ listen better when Dat reads to us tonight.”

  “That’s a gut place to start,” Maggie said, listening for Rachel.

  She slipped away to the bedroom and saw that Rachel was sound asleep.

  Dear woman, she thought, wondering again if Rachel was indeed expecting a baby.

  Maggie’s bedroom was not as spacious as those upstairs, but as she stood in the doorway just now and peeked in at Rachel, who was up from her nap, she realized how much of a haven this room really was. She raised her hand to knock softly. “Rachel?”

  “Come in,” Rachel said, yawning. “Denki for lookin’ after me, Maggie.” Even sitting there on the bed after a long nap, she still looked spent.

  “I hope you’re feelin’ better now,” Maggie said, going to sit in the only chair in the room, near the window.

  “Oh, I’m just fine. And it was nice of you to let me rest for a while in here.”<
br />
  Maggie waved her hand. “Anytime, really.” She looked at her, this woman who had been in charge of Dat’s house since they married. She looked so vulnerable, even a bit forlorn.

  Rachel glanced at the wind-up alarm clock on the bedside table. “Goodness, it’s nearly suppertime. The hours got away from me.”

  “I was worried ’bout ya,” Maggie said. “At times like this, you must sorely miss your family clear up in Myerstown.”

  Rachel looked surprised. “I do, my Mamm especially.”

  Maggie nodded, hoping she was saying the right thing. “I just wanted to tell you that I understand.”

  “Well, of course ya do, Maggie. How rude of me!”

  “Nee, not at all,” Maggie protested and shook her head. “We both miss our mothers terribly, ain’t so?” She skimmed her gaze across the bed quilt to Rachel. And it was as though a bond was forming—a common cord, maybe—and Maggie felt it all the more as Rachel rose to come to her, smiling through her tears as she sat down on the near side of the bed.

  Rachel reached for Maggie’s hand, gently holding it. “I can’t begin to imagine what you must feel every day, wakin’ up to your great loss,” Rachel said sweetly. “Missin’ your Mamm as I know ya do.”

  “Well, and yours isn’t just up the road, a stone’s throw away.” Maggie looked down at Rachel’s pretty hand around her own and pressed her lips together, lest they both end up weeping.

  31

  Maggie knew something was very different the next morning when she awoke. At first, she wondered if she’d overdone it by picking so many peaches while awkwardly balanced against the ladder. Or was it because she’d thrown herself so vigorously into mowing when she really should have taken time to rest? Whatever the reason, she felt feverish and was having a terrible flare-up of pain.

  She moaned as she stiffly sat up in bed. Reaching for her pillows, she placed them under her right arm and horizontally across the bed, leaning on them for support. Eventually, she managed to lift her legs over the side. Then she just sat there and thought, Now what?

  For the longest time, she did not stand, afraid she might fall and hurt herself. All the same, she resisted the urge to call out, not wanting to alarm anyone. Besides, no one was up yet—not a sound came from the kitchen or overhead. Instead, she bowed her head and folded her hands to pray. “Lord, please help me get up and dressed for the day. I’m ever so thankful for all the blessings in my life. . . .” She stopped, sighing now. Yes, she was thankful, but she felt dishonest praying that way when here she was practically crippled again.

  Ach, to think I’ve been so diligent about taking the expensive pills, staying right on schedule. Why, Miriam had even helped to remind her last night. Maggie thought fondly of her little sister’s caring nature and hoped that she might soon come bounding down the stairs. Otherwise, I might be sitting here all day, Maggie fretted.

  Minutes passed, then a quarter of an hour crawled by.

  Exasperated in spite of her desire to keep calm, Maggie hoped she hadn’t taken the past days of well-being for granted. I was almost normal, she thought sadly. I hoped and prayed it might last. . . .

  Gingerly, she reached for her Bible on the nightstand and opened to the passages she so loved. The verses of encouragement had kept her going before when she’d felt so pain ridden, though never as bad as now. She spotted Aunt Nellie’s gift for her eighteenth birthday—the white hankie edged with pink tatting—and sighed.

  Eventually, there were footsteps on the stairs and the clatter of a pan being removed from the bottom drawer, and Maggie knew that either Grace or Rachel was preparing to cook breakfast.

  Maggie tried to inch forward to stand on her own, slowly, cautiously putting her weight on her feet. She was almost up when she abruptly dropped back into a sitting position on the bed, jolting herself.

  Am I crippled, Lord?

  ———

  Feeling nauseous once again—a regular occurrence now for hours each morning—Rachel realized her heart was racing. And oh, this annoying fatigue! It was as if she hadn’t slept a wink!

  Joseph kissed her on the temple as she sat on the edge of the bed and loosened her nightgown around her middle. “You must rest more, love,” he said. “Please do what you need to and take care of yourself.”

  She nodded, and Joseph pulled her close. “The girls can handle most everything in the house, if need be. And I’ll help out more, too.” Joseph kissed her square on the lips. “May the Lord God bless our little one.”

  “Amen to that,” she replied, her hand on her stomach. “But let’s not tell the children quite yet. Not till it’s obvious, jah?”

  Joseph agreed. “Though I expect Maggie and Grace will put two and two together soon enough, if they haven’t already.” He offered to bring a breakfast tray up to her.

  But Rachel couldn’t think of eating. “I’ll just move over to your favorite chair and try to get my mind off myself.”

  “Isn’t there somethin’ you can take to calm things down?”

  “Mint tea and toast have helped,” she said, but just now the thought of anything at all in her mouth made her nearly heave.

  “I’ll make some toast, then, and Maggie or Grace can brew some tea.” With that, Joseph left the room and headed downstairs.

  “Bless his heart,” Rachel whispered, rocking back and forth and wondering how many more weeks she’d have to put up with this.

  ———

  Maggie was so relieved when Grace came to check on her.

  “What’s a-matter?” Grace’s eyes were solemn as she quickly moved across the room to feel Maggie’s forehead. Then, shaking her head, she said, “You have a fever again.”

  “And the pain’s back, too. I doubt I can walk to the kitchen.”

  Grace seemed to hesitate, but only a few seconds, and she didn’t raise any alarming questions. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll bring your food in on a tray. Whatever ya need, I’ll help ya, sister.”

  Maggie touched her long hair, feeling the snarls. “At some point, someone might help me brush my hair,” she said. “I must’ve slept awful fitfully.”

  Again, Grace assured her that she’d assist in whatever way necessary. “I can help you dress and brush your hair after breakfast,” she promised. “Miriam will want to help, too.”

  “Oh,” Maggie groaned. “I hate for the family to have to hear ’bout this.”

  Grace gave her a compassionate look. “Well, we love you, sister. We want to share your burdens.”

  “Take your time to make breakfast for everyone else first, though, ya hear? I’ll be fine here.” Then Maggie remembered that Rachel hadn’t been feeling well in the mornings lately. “Best be lookin’ after Rachel, too, in case she needs something to eat.”

  “Dat’s already been down to get her some toast, and I’ve got some peppermint tea brewin’. That seems to be the drink she prefers here lately.”

  Maggie exchanged a knowing glance with Grace. “Are ya thinkin’ what I am?” Maggie whispered, offering a smile.

  “Jah. I’ve suspected something for a week or so.” Grace gave her a little smile, then wiggled her fingers and said she’d be back in a little while with a nice, hot breakfast.

  “Bless your heart,” Maggie said.

  When the mail arrived later, Miriam came running into Maggie’s room, excited to present to her a letter from Leola. “I looked at the return address—I think it’s from cousins Nancy and Linda.”

  “How nice . . . they remembered to write,” Maggie said, using the letter opener. She’d been resting in her room since the noon meal, which she’d managed to eat with the rest of the family in the kitchen, thanks to Dat and Leroy, who carried her out in a seat they made with their hands and arms.

  The pain was so bad, moving at all made her feel nauseous. Worse than I’ve ever felt, she thought.

  She sat propped up in bed to begin to read the letter from her cousins, recalling how much fun it had been to visit with them on her eighteenth
birthday at Dawdi Reuben’s. Seems like ages ago now.

  As she finished the letter, Maggie heard meowing; Aunt Nellie stood in the doorway, holding Siggy.

  “We came to bring cheer,” Nellie said, smiling as she tiptoed into Maggie’s bedroom and sat on the chair. “Gracie said you had a setback.”

  “I’m really not sure what’s goin’ on.” Maggie was so glad to see her. “I wish Siggy could snuggle with me on the bed.”

  “I’ll just sit with him there, so you can pet him.” Nellie moved over to the edge of the bed. “Pets tend to soothe.”

  Maggie had to smile and reached to touch Siggy’s neck, feeling the vibrations of his purrs. “He’s a lesson in contentment, jah?”

  Nellie nodded and watched Maggie stroke the cat.

  “I’m tryin’ to be brave through this,” Maggie confided.

  “You don’t have to, an’ you don’t have to be strong, either,” Nellie said, then quoted Second Corinthians, chapter twelve, verse nine, a verse Glenn also had once shared.

  “That promise sure helps on a day like today,” Maggie said as she watched Siggy’s eyes slowly close. She mentioned that she’d taken her morning pill in the hope it might help, but it hadn’t at all. “Never wanted to put my faith in them, ya know. But I’m afraid I did.”

  “I daresay all of us were hopin’ they might be what ya needed.” Nellie reached over and touched Maggie’s long hair. “Did ya want your hair put up?”

  “Grace offered, but I feel more comfortable havin’ it down loose.”

  “Well, you do what ya have to,” Nellie said, picking up Siggy and heading to the doorway. “I’ll keep prayin’ for you. Right now, though, I’m gonna check in on Rachel, too. She’s been havin’ quite a bout.”

  Maggie nodded, not letting on that she felt sure she knew why. That was Rachel’s news to share. “Denki for comin’ over, Aendi.”

  “I love ya, Maggie-bird. And so does the Lord.” Nellie blew her a kiss and left.

  Maggie watched her go, touched by Nellie’s sweet spirit and her promise to pray. And reached for her comfort quilt and drew it near.