by Beth Shriver
Nellie grinned. “That’s a memory about a young man who courted me when I was young. He was older than me, and my parents didn’t approve. We went three days without talking, and I thought I was gonna burst. The very next day, he came to see me. I snuck out the window and ran through the cornfields with him until we couldn’t run anymore.” She stopped and took a breath and then looked up as if she saw it all over again in her mind.
“It started to rain, but we didn’t care. He took my face in his hands and kissed me. The rain kept coming down and then stopped suddenly. He pulled away and looked up. There in front of us was a huge rainbow spread out over the sky.” She met Lucy’s eyes. They were soft and bright blue, with a contentment about them.
“What happened to him?” Lucy didn’t like the ending. She wanted Nellie with this young man who was so smitten with her.
“I did as my parents told me to. They encouraged me to court with others, but no one compared.” She rested her cheek in the palm of her hand. “I’ll always have the memory of lying in the wet grass gazing at that beautiful rainbow. Biggest I’ve ever seen.”
“Do you think it really was? That big, I mean?”
Nellie pointed to the patch that was one of the larger blocks. “It’s a double rainbow. See the second arc outside the primary one?”
“How do you know this?” And then Lucy remembered the times she was with Nellie and how she lingered when she saw a rainbow stretching across the horizon.
Nellie folded her arms as if to protect the precious moment. “The light reflects twice inside the water droplets.” She smiled at Lucy. “We saw a two-arced rainbow that day, and I’ve never seen another like it.”
“That’s sad.” Lucy’s heart went out to her, although Nellie didn’t seem bitter or callous in any way, so why should she pity her? “Did you ever see him again?”
“I left soon after we parted. I spent all the time I had quilting and working in town. I became lost in it to forget about him.” Her face pinched for a moment and then relaxed again. “When I heard he was courting someone else, I left to start my own shop, knowing I wouldn’t get married.” She pursed her lips for a second and placed her hands on the quilt. “And I never looked back.”
Nellie’s success turned the sorrow into happiness, both with her shop and, more important, her precious quilts, which were not just quilts but life stories.
“That’s an incredible gift you give to people, Nellie.”
“It’s been more fulfilling than anything else I could have done.” She paused. “I do keep a piece of me in every quilt I make.” Nellie pushed the fabric inside out to show her initials. “I sew it up so they can’t see, but I know it’s there.” She chucked Lucy under the chin. “You can do anything you set your mind to.” She put a hand to Lucy’s stomach. “You’re going to be a good mamm to that baby.”
Just as Lucy was about to complain about her situation, Nellie put up a finger.
“Don’t talk of the troubles. No matter what Sam does or doesn’t do, you and your baby will have each other.”
With no daed.
Nellie was right. And she would be a good mother, no matter what Sam said. After hearing Nellie’s story, Lucy seemed to sense inward resources she hadn’t been aware of before. Instead of feeling helpless with what the future held, she felt strengthened to take on whatever came her way. This baby would have the best mamm she could possibly be. She didn’t need anyone—not Sam or someone like Manny—to make her life complete.
A soft knock at the door drew their attention. “I’ll get it.” Nellie stood, and when she got to the door and looked at the side window, she grinned. “It’s Manny.”
Lucy frowned. “Nellie, stop.”
Nellie opened the door wide and let him in. “Good to see you, Manny.” She pointed to an envelope he held. “Are you the new mailman now?”
“For the time being. Abner’s not been feeling well, so I thought I’d help him out.”
“No one needs to bring us the mail. Sam can fetch it.” Lucy stood, more clumsily than she would have liked, especially while making a stand to be more self-sufficient.
Manny walked quickly over to help her, but she found her balance and stood tall. “You all right?” Manny’s blue eye caught the sun, making her think of the little lesson Nellie had just shared with her about colors in the sky.
“I’m fine, danke.” There was no good reason to look into a man’s eyes, knowing what she knew. Her life was here at Sam’s farm with their new child. Manny was a neighbor, but not one she’d known until recently. Going to two different churches on Sunday had kept them from getting to know each other. Maybe there was a reason for that too.
“How’s Abner getting on?” Nellie smiled at Manny and glanced at Lucy.
As Nellie watched Manny talking, with his one blue and one brown eye and messy blond hair, she pressed herself away, and when he smiled at her, she pushed farther still.
Lucy stood on the porch of her two-story white clapboard house taking in the bright sun as she waited for the buggy rattling down the dirt path. She didn’t recognize the driver, which made her eyebrows rise in question.
“Hallo.” A young Amish man quickly brought the horse to a halt and stepped out. “This is the first time I’ve been out this way.” He looked around while walking to the other side of the buggy. “Nice place you got here.”
“Danke. And you are?” She bobbed her head to see what he looked at and took a step forward out of curiosity. His eyes were fixed on the tall silo standing out like a beacon—a gluttonous symbol, in her opinion.
“Sorry. I provide transportation for folks visiting local family.” He offered his hand, and Lucy hesitantly complied. “The name’s Jeremiah. I’ll grab the bag and bring it around.” Lucy had heard of this but had planned on picking up her mamm once she got word. Leave it to her to make a surprise entrance.
A woman’s voice drew Lucy’s attention as the buggy squeaked and leaned to one side. Her mamm stepped out.
As she came around the front of the buggy, Lucy took in a sharp breath.
Mamm smiled. “I knew you’d be glad to see me.”
“Mamm!” was all Lucy could think of to say. Maybe all those thoughts she’d just pondered were in preparation for this surprise. She’d expected a letter or word from the bishop, who had the community phone, to give her the news, not this unexpected arrival.
“You know how I like to keep people on their toes.” Mamm thanked the young man and then looked around the place with pensive eyes. Lucy and her mamm didn’t look anything alike, with her mamm’s dark hair and eyes, and especially her height. She stood almost a foot taller than Daed. Lucy had her daed’s features and small build and his meek—“not weak,” he’d say—temperament.
“Well, you sure surprised me. I didn’t know you were coming this soon.” She moved forward and reached out to offer a hug. Mamm bent down and patted her back. Lucy wished she had gotten the haus ready. She could already imagine the expression on her mamm’s face when she saw the lack of a woman’s touch in the haus—especially in the kitchen. Not to mention the bedroom that Lucy hadn’t gotten together yet. Three of the bedrooms weren’t in use and were probably collecting spider webs.
Mamm moved back and examined Lucy’s belly. “It’s hard to believe you’re in your last trimester. You always were a petite little thing.”
Little did her mamm know about the constant
stress she lived with. That alone hindered her appetite, not to mention her cooking, which was mediocre on a good day.
“This babe can’t come fast enough. I’m already worn out.” Lucy felt tired just thinking about the chores ahead of her, with her mamm there adding stress to it all. Maybe it was good to have her mamm nearby, at least for a little while, to get her ready for what was to come.
“How’s Daed? Feeling any better?” Lucy was almost scared to ask. For him not to come and spend time with her told her he was not well. She had hoped he would show up with her mamm but wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t.
“Nee, he doesn’t have much energy. I know you were hoping to see him. Maybe after the baby’s born.” She let out a breath. “To be honest, I think it might be you coming to visit once you and the babe can travel. It’s just too much for him.”
Mamm’s look of sorrow was such an uncommon reaction, it made Lucy pause. “I so want to see him.” Her daed was the only one who truly knew her. She looked down at the rich soil beneath her feet, reminding herself of the reason she was there. Her mamm had been sure she would need to leave the community to find a husband. She had always been shy and more interested in working with her daed than being in the kitchen with her mamm. She stroked her belly, worried for her unborn child, but then pushed back the emotions and lifted her head.
“Lucy?”
When she looked up at her mamm, she decided to be grateful for what she had instead of complaining about what she didn’t have. Mamm was there. Although stressful at times, it would be good to have a helping hand. “Sorry, Mamm.”
“What a large farm.” Mamm put her hands on her hips. “And well kept.” She grinned. “I can see my handiwork in you.”
Lucy wished she had added her own touches with more of a creative bent than the stringent ways of her mamm. Once they walked into the haus, Mamm would be singing a different tune. But Lucy was prepared for anything now that she was here. “How was the trip?”
“Not too long. You don’t live that far away, my dear. Your sisters will try to visit once the baby comes.” She stopped to get Lucy’s attention. “And from what I’m told, Fannie will be coming out when I leave.” Her mamm told Lucy about the schedule she had put together as to who was coming out when, but Fannie had bumped up her visiting time to be there when the baby was born. Mamm meant well, but Lucy would rather her sisters came and went as they saw fit, or all of them at once. She knew that would never happen, but it would be wonderful-gut.
Mamm watched Lucy’s face as she chattered. “This is a large farm. Hopefully you’ll have a boy to help Sam run the place.”
Lucy took a step back. “Jah, I suppose. I miss my sisters, so it would be nice to have a girl.”
Mamm shaded her eyes with her hands. “It’s so still and quiet. Does that bother you?”
“Nee, I’m fine.” Lucy didn’t want to complain. If she did, she knew her mamm would give her reasons not to be bothered by the silence. It was a twist she put on things to make her girls stronger, or so she thought.
“I’m surprised after reading some of the letters you sent home to the girls.” She rubbed what must have been a dirt smudge on Lucy’s cheek. Lucy didn’t miss the jab. The girls corresponded through a round-robin. Each wrote a letter and sent it to the next person in the order, who added her letter, until it went full circle. Their mamm was not included.
“It’s hard to adjust, but it’s starting to feel like home.” But she overstated. Though she had made great strides, home was where her sisters were. “Sam should be at the haus soon for lunch.”
Her mamm frowned, maybe expecting a more formal welcome when she arrived. “Why don’t you show me around while we wait for him?”
She started walking, so Lucy followed. “A greenhouse?” Mamm glanced at Lucy and then walked toward the structure. “I prefer to work outdoors myself. You can’t get away from the heat either way.” She took long strides to reach the small building Sam had made. The foundation was cement, with a brick base halfway up, and then sealed with thick plastic on all sides.
“Do you want to see the house first?” Lucy watched for Sam. She already didn’t know how to handle Mamm with her determined ways. With the surprise early visit, she didn’t know if she could handle both Sam and her.
“Jah, sure.” But she stayed the course, and they soon stood in the middle of the greenhouse. Mamm inspected each flower, fruit, and vegetable. “Hmm.”
Lucy knew the sound; Mamm disapproved of something. “There’s a lot more to it than I realized, and this is my first attempt.” Lucy stopped. She was already giving Mamm her excuses for failing at something. It was a common conversation between them whenever Lucy tried something that Mamm felt was above her abilities. She knew her mother was only trying to help, but she wasn’t. Each time her mamm told her she couldn’t do something or do it well enough, it took a piece of Lucy.
Skip and Hop came alongside them, threatening to jump up. “Stay.” Mamm lifted her pointer finger at the dogs, and they obeyed. “Such silly names.”
“They’re verbs, Mamm.” Lucy started to smile, but stopped when she realized that was Sam’s response when she’d suggested the names. They might not have had names at all, if it was up to him.
Mamm waved a hand as if to dismiss Lucy’s reasoning. “They’re animals, nothing more.” She told Skip, “Down!” and scowled at the dog until he caved and lay down with his nose between his paws.
Lucy looked skyward to see the sun shining brightly, but Sam wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Are you hungry? It must have been a long ride.”
“Actually, I’m famished. I haven’t had a decent meal since I left.” She cupped her hand under Lucy’s chin. “Your scar.” She studied her cheek. “It seems darker, and you look exhausted. Let’s get you something to eat and some rest.” Without waiting for an answer, she started the walk to the haus just as Sam came out of the barn.
When he saw Mamm, he stopped for a moment and then lowered his head and kept walking. Lucy could feel his irritation from twenty feet away but didn’t know what to do about it. He’d known Mamm was coming, just not today.
“Hallo, Sam,” Mamm called out to him.
He didn’t respond until they were all close to the haus. “Verna, I didn’t know you were coming today.” He eyed Lucy with a quick flash of his dark eyes and then shifted them back to her mamm. “How was the bus ride?”
He opened the white wooden gate and let it go for Lucy to catch before it shut. She was more aware of these small things now that Mamm was there and wondered how she would react. It would be interesting to see how they got along, as they had met only twice—once when he came up to get her and once at their wedding, which was over so fast it made Lucy’s head spin, not to mention Mamm’s.
They walked into the kitchen, which was fairly tidy, though lacking some charm and color. Lucy watched Mamm scan the room, taking mental notes as Lucy expected. She told herself to take Mamm’s comments with a grain of salt, and anything she or especially Sam didn’t like, they could change after she left. It wasn’t worth anyone getting upset. It was just what Mamm did, to decorate.
“This is a large room. I can see why it’s been difficult to spruce up things—where to begin and whatnot.” She clapped her hands together.
Lucy felt the tension coming from Sam, knowing the only thing he was concerned about at the moment was food. “I’ll start on lunch. First, I’ll show you
to your room, if you like, so you can freshen up.”
“We’ll eat first.” Sam sat down hard in his chair at the head of the table and looked straight ahead.
Mamm squinted as she stared at him.
Lucy stepped in quickly. “Go on up; any of the empty rooms are fine.” They hadn’t been together five minutes, and already Lucy was deflecting them from each other. Her stress level shot up, and the baby responded.
She started in on the meal, working quickly while Sam read the Budget paper to catch up on the Amish from all over the country. She’d never been so happy to see him read the paper as if she weren’t in the room, though many times she’d wished he’d talk to her while he read it.
As she diced potatoes to go with the roasted chicken she’d made, for the first time, she wished she had her English friend’s microwave oven.
Manny thought he was going to bust. “This chicken pot pie is good, Emma.” He put his hands over his belly, waiting for her to say what she always did.
“Gut, you need to put on some weight. When Caleb gets in here, you’ll have to have some more.” She gave him that pitying look she had about her and then turned away from the table to clean up. “You can’t mourn over Glenda forever. And she would want you to be fat and happy.” She smiled as she looked over at him.
“Jah, well, I don’t cook as gut as you do, but I make do.” He smirked. He’d actually learned a thing or two about cooking but didn’t like to eat alone. It wasn’t worth the effort to cook for one. Sometimes Manny just needed to be around people, and since Emma was the one who lifted his spirits the most, he usually ended up here.
She frowned. “I’ve told you to come over for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day, if you like. Why don’t you come?”