A Wedding for Julia

by Vannetta Chapman

  “To talk about your wedding.” Lydia linked arms with her on the right as Miriam clasped her hand on the left. “We’re practically going to be in-laws because Aaron and Caleb don’t have family here.”

  Julia hadn’t thought of that. She should add it to the list she kept, but what would she list it under—become closer to new family?

  “And Gabe goes to Aaron’s every time he comes to see my bruder David. We’re all going to be very close.” Miriam patted her hand. “Now tell us what you have ready for the wedding and what you need.”

  “Oh. I don’t know. We’ve finished my dress.”

  “Gut. I’m not much for sewing right now with this stomach.” Lydia shook her head. “I can crochet and knit, but sewing seems to fall off my lap. What else have you done?”

  “I’ve written out the invitations, and we’ll deliver them this week. Our guest list isn’t very long.”

  “I’m sure your invitations are beautiful,” Lydia assured her. “It’s been interesting to see Caleb spend his days off at your place. Usually every free hour is spent down on the creek, angling for a fresh supper until it’s too dark to see his line. That man enjoys fishing more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  “Is he going to keep working at the store?” Miriam asked.

  They had reached the front porch, the same place Julia had sat with Bishop Atlee nearly three weeks ago. Climbing the steps, they each took a rocker. Miriam pulled hers closer so they formed a tight little circle.

  “Ya. He’s going to stay on there at least at first, until we see how the café is doing.”

  Miriam beamed at her. “So many changes at once. All gut, but a lot to digest.”

  “The next few weeks are going to be especially difficult for him. There’s so much that needs to be done at the house to prepare for the wedding and also because we plan to open the café the week after we’re married.”

  “Gabe’s crops are in. Maybe he can help.” Miriam leaned back in her rocker. “I’ll speak to him about it.”

  “Tell us what we can do.” Lydia folded her hands over the top of her stomach. “Caleb told Aaron about your lists. I know you can’t have it all done.”

  “He told—”

  Lydia waved away her surprise. “Men talk as much as women do, only somewhat differently. Believe me, I know. I hear them as they work.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, I think I do, but go ahead and explain, Lydia.” Miriam set her chair to rocking.

  “One moment they’ll be discussing us—who they claim not to understand. The next, they’ll jump over to a fish they caught last week or the newest type of seed to use in their field. It’s not as if we don’t matter more than their hobbies or work. It’s more as if one naturally leads to the other, and we’re all part and parcel of their world.”

  “So I’m on the same level of conversation topics as a fish?” Julia pretended to be offended, but she couldn’t quite pull it off. She was picturing Caleb as he had stared off at the bend in Pebble Creek one evening, and then he went back to working on the side of their barn that had needed mending. She had been able to see the longing in his eyes, but he had chosen to help her instead.

  “Pretty much.” Lydia rubbed at the right side of her stomach.

  “Elbow?” Miriam asked.

  “That or he has a pointed head. Now tell us what’s left on your lists, Julia.”

  So she did. She didn’t have any trouble remembering. She could close her eyes and picture both pages quite well. There had been several moments of panic when she’d wondered how she could accomplish everything and still care for her mother and deliver the invitations, though there were precious few to deliver.

  As she spoke, they divided what was left to do among the three of them. Julia was astonished that neither Miriam nor Lydia balked at the amount of work left to accomplish.

  How had she ever thought she could do it all on her own? How had she ever thought she could do it all in time?

  She had checked off every item left to do, envisioning it clearly in her mind, when Lydia cleared her throat. Opening her eyes, she saw the look pass between her two new freinden and realized now she could call them that—God had blessed her once again.

  “What?”

  “I’m thinking that we can do all this, but there’s the harvest and perhaps you might want to consider…”

  “What she’s trying to say is you might think about expanding your guest list. We don’t want to tell you what to do, but people care about you Julia. They want to celebrate this day with you, especially the people from your congregation.” Miriam glanced out toward the folks still milling around the table. “Not that you have to invite them all, but together we make up a family of believers.”

  Lydia nodded in agreement. “And inviting more guests means more invitations, more food, and more work!”

  Julia’s heart sank. “It’s too much to do in too short a time, isn’t it?”

  “Nein. Not at all.” Miriam reached out and covered her hand with her own. “My mamm will pitch in, and don’t forget I have lots of family here—nieces we can call on to help, plus three bruders who have wives.”

  “My mamm will be happy to help as well,” Lydia said.

  “But Clara and Seth are marrying too—”

  “Their wedding is two weeks after yours, and we’ve been planning it for months. Nein. What I’m thinking is that we can cut the work you’re trying to do in half.” Lydia stood and stretched, placing her hand at the small of her back.

  “In half?”

  “Ya, if you’ll allow someone else to take care of the cooking. I know it’s what you do, and I know you do it well, but you can’t expect to prepare your house and cook for your own wedding. It’s not possible.”

  Julia opened her mouth and then shut it again. Finally she managed, “Who—”

  Miriam squeezed her hand. “Let us worry about who. We’ll be in charge of the cake and the menu, if you trust us.”

  “Ya. Of course I do.”

  “You can jot us a few notes for what you had in mind, and we’ll take it from there.” Lydia looked pleased at the thought.

  “And we’ll divide up some of these tasks among the men. Aaron can bring the church pews. Seth can see that the property is nicely mowed and trimmed.”

  Julia fiddled with her apron, overwhelmed by their offer. It was tradition to have the wedding at the bride’s home, and she had thought her house was ready until she’d started looking at it as a guest might. There was much she’d let slip since her father had passed, and probably for years before that. There was too much work for one woman to do, and maybe that was proof also that mamm was correct in saying it would have been difficult for her to live there alone.

  Once they had set a date for the wedding, she’d realized it meant a lot of work. In her mind if she awoke earlier each day, worked harder, and went to bed later, she could somehow finish it all, but even with Caleb’s help she had been falling further behind.

  “Are you sure you want to do all of this?”

  “We do. That’s why we offered,” Lydia said.

  “Seems like gut solutions.” Miriam stood as well. “But only if you like our ideas.”

  Julia pulled in a deep breath and looked from Lydia to Miriam. The thing that convinced her to agree was that she knew they wouldn’t run over her. They wouldn’t make any decisions she wasn’t happy about, and besides, Julia wanted to make it through the wedding. In her heart, she was more interested in reaching the other side, in starting a new life together with Caleb.

  If, as a group, they could help to make the wedding day a success and her place presentable, that’s what she wanted to do. It wasn’t that she was prideful, but Caleb had shown her that there were certain areas on the porch that were rotten—unsafe even. And the grounds, other than her garden, had been utterly neglected.

  What they were suggesting would solve the problem of preparing for the wedding and also help with meeting the de
adline they had set to open the café the week after they were married.

  “I’ll want to speak with Caleb first, but if he agrees, then yes! I say yes.”

  Chapter 13

  Sharon walked along the side of the four-lane road, determined not to cry. The darkness of the night seemed to close around her like a bad dream, and she had no way to tell what time it was. She hoped she was walking the right direction. She hadn’t paid much attention when James was driving. She didn’t think she had been this way before, at least not recently, and she didn’t know what the road names were—she hadn’t noticed earlier.

  There were a lot of things she hadn’t noticed.

  At first her anger had kept her tears at bay.

  She had been so mad when they had stopped at the convenience store in Romney that tears were the furthest thing from her mind. James hadn’t seen her angry before, but he caught a good dose then.

  The night had gone nothing like she’d expected. Why had she thought it would be the same as before? Because he’d said it would be, that was why. Because he had lied. She kicked a rock with her foot, kicked it hard enough to feel the impact on her toe.

  Now she had to walk with a sore toe. Not very bright at all. In fact, it was stupid! Just like slipping out of her grandparents’ window had been stupid. What had she been thinking?

  She’d been thinking about his blue eyes. Colossally stupid.

  The single night at her grandparents’ had stretched into a week. It had been harsh punishment—ya. She loved her grossmammi and grossdaddi, but they lived so far out in the country, and she couldn’t see her freinden or speak with anyone her own age. Then there were the pigs she had to help tend—feeding them scraps, changing the hay where they slept, and cleaning their pens. The smell was disgusting. The entire week had been awful.

  As bad as it was, she was scheduled to go home the next day. She’d told herself she wouldn’t sneak out with James, that she would walk away if he even spoke to her at church…but then he’d stood in front of her and stared at her with those eyes the color of the sky when it was clear and you could see into forever. He’d slipped the note into her hand and whistled as he’d walked away.

  Her heart had been thumping so hard, she was sure her grandparents would hear it during the buggy ride on the way home. They hadn’t. She’d waited until after she was supposed to be reading her Bible in her room, and then she had pulled out the sheet of paper with his words of love.

  All lies! She knew that now.

  Though the instructions had been clear enough. She was to meet him on the next farm at exactly nine o’clock. Sneaking out hadn’t been an issue because her grandparents fell asleep before eight. No, the real problem had started when she’d opened the door to the old truck.

  “What is that smell?”

  “I don’t smell anything.”

  Then he’d leaned over to kiss her, and she’d backed up against the door. “You’ve been drinking? Already? And you’re driving?”

  “Relax, Sharon. You sound like my mamm.” He’d dropped her cell phone into her lap, winked, and kissed her again.

  She placed the phone in her purse and buckled her seat belt tightly across her lap as he peeled out of the drive. It was a good thing her grandparents were nearly deaf or he would have wakened them, even if he was next door at the abandoned farm. How had he managed to get her phone back? He’d mentioned he knew one of the clerks who worked at the store. She’d love to hear the story—

  James reached for the radio dial and turned it up so loud Sharon knew they wouldn’t be talking, which was fine with her. She appreciated the return of her phone, but she thought drinking and driving was unbelievably stupid. She hoped he’d had only one. Certainly one couldn’t do much harm. She’d watch him, though. If he started driving erratically, she was getting out of that truck, and she would try to take the keys with her.

  Instead of turning south onto the highway, James crossed it.

  “I thought we were going to Indianapolis,” she shouted. When they’d gone before, the trip had taken a little over an hour’s drive from her home in Monroe. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed they were going a different direction.

  “You thought wrong, sweetheart. I have a surprise for you tonight.”

  Sharon reached for the radio dial and turned the volume down so he could hear her. “I don’t want a surprise, James. I want to go to the movies and the diner. Where is everyone else?”

  He grinned, turned the radio back up, and revved the engine, pushing their speed ten miles over the limit as he shrugged his shoulders.

  What was with him?

  A few minutes later they pulled into a convenience store parking lot. She almost thanked him when he turned off the ignition. The silence was like a balm on her ears.

  “I need to run inside for a minute.” He hopped out of the truck, glancing left and then right as he did. “Want anything?”

  “Nein.”

  Walking around to her door, he opened it, leaned inside, and kissed her. Although she hated the beer aftertaste, she had to admit his kiss still had the power to send her pulse skipping.

  So she sat there hoping—like a child—that the night might improve. When she saw him walk out of the store with the six-pack tucked under his arm, her heart sank all the way past her Englisch blue jeans, which she’d smuggled to her grandparents, to the bottom of her shoes.

  “How did you buy that? You’re not old enough to purchase alcohol.”

  “Fake ID. Wanna see it?” James grinned as he popped a top and set the remaining five cans of beer on the seat between them. The cans were still tucked into the plastic ring and cold against her arm. “You can have one if you want.”

  “No, I don’t want. And where did you get a fake ID? Why did you get one? And why are you drinking while you’re driving?”

  Instead of answering, James downed half of what was in the can, and then he turned toward her, his back against the door of the truck. “You know, Sharon, you’re real pretty and I like you, but you’re not going to be much fun if all you’re going to do is nag.”

  She was so angry she thought the top of her head might fly completely apart. “Not much fun?”

  “Ya, now loosen up a little. I could have brought along my mamm or schweschder if I wanted to be lectured.”

  “That’s it.” Sharon released her seat belt, opened the door of the truck, snatched the remaining beer cans, and slammed the door as hard as she could. The window made a satisfying rattle when she did. “I’m taking this back inside, and I’m telling the clerk you bought it illegally.”

  “You wouldn’t dare—”

  She never found out if James started after her or not. Her heart thumping wildly, she’d fled into the store. She’d explained all about the fake ID to the clerk, who had stared at her as if she were one of those cartoon characters they had watched in the movie theater. He’d finally accepted what was left of the six pack—five beers still in the plastic ring—and set it on the floor behind the counter, no doubt to take home later.

  Not her problem.

  He didn’t look stupid enough to drink and drive. What he did in his own home was his business.

  Feeling satisfied that she’d handled the situation well, she marched back outside and stared at the empty parking lot.

  James had left.

  Left her alone at a convenience store in Romney, Wisconsin.

  Left her in the middle of the night.

  Sharon kicked at another rock, glancing up as fat raindrops began to splat against the asphalt.

  It was a good thing she’d had her purse slung over her shoulder when she’d hopped out of the truck. At least she had a little money and her cell phone. Stepping off the road, out of the beam of any oncoming traffic, she checked the display.

  No missed calls. No messages. No reason to stop walking.

  She turned the phone off, something she’d fallen in the habit of doing to save the battery. Who knew when she’d be able to charge it again
?

  Where was she? And why was the rain now coming down harder?

  Oh, how she wished for her prayer kapp to cover her head. The steady drizzle against her scalp left her cold, and she was even more miserable than she had been ten minutes ago. Not to mention the ridiculous Englisch clothes she’d worn were clinging to her like wet laundry pinned to a clothesline.

  Maybe she should call the phone shack near her parents’ home. It was late, though. No one would hear it ring. If she wanted anyone to come and fetch her, she would have to call her friend Joana. She lived two farms down from her parents. She could run down and tell them, or Joana’s father could. The thought of involving so many people caused Sharon’s stomach to flip up and over.

  Maybe she could keep walking. Maybe someone would offer her a ride. Her shoes began to squish as the rain increased.

  How could James leave her? And why had he been acting so strangely? She’d heard that boys behaved badly while on their rumspringa, but he had changed so drastically since their last evening together. He hadn’t been kind or considerate or attentive to her at all. It was almost as if he wasn’t sure he wanted her along. Why had he asked her then?

  Her tears mixed with the rain and slid in rivulets down her face. She stopped under a streetlight, peering into the direction she was walking and then back at the route she had come. Surely there was somewhere she could wait out the storm, but all she saw was black-top road, and up ahead a flashing caution light. Maybe if she walked a little farther, she could figure out where she was.

  She hurried through the storm toward the intersection, wrapping her arms around her middle in a futile effort to keep warm. Thunder rumbled across the sky, and the storm tossed leaves, pieces of hay, and scraps of stray garbage in front of her. At least the wind was at her back. If she had been walking directly into it, she would never have had the strength to continue.

  Reaching the crossroads, she peered up at the two signs.

  County Road 700 crossed the road she had been walking on for the past hour, the same road the convenience store was on, which apparently was State Road 28. But which road led back to Monroe?