“Sam, get a snowball ready and let’s throw one at Saul.” He bent to scoop up a handful of snow and pack it into a ball.
“Ya!” Sam crowed. “Throw one at Saul.” He watched Abram and then imitated what he’d done, his snowball smaller and a little lopsided.
Abram ducked behind the snowman, and Sam followed him. “Get ready. I’ll tell you when to throw it.”
Sam looked up at him adoringly. “Allrecht.”
The buggy pulled up into the drive.
“Steady.” Abram said. “Not yet.”
Saul set one foot out of the buggy, then turned when his cell phone rang and reached for it.
“Now?”
Abram shook his head. “Not yet.”
Finished with the call, Saul turned and stepped from the buggy.
“Now!” Abram said.
He stepped out from behind the snowman and lobbed the snowball at Saul and hit him in the middle of the chest. Splat! Sam threw his, and it hit Saul’s knee with a mild thump.
“Wha—?” Saul stared down at the snow on his chest, then he looked up and saw Abram and Sam. “Why, you!” he said to Abram. “Snowballs?”
“Ya, for the one you threw at me.”
“That was when we were kids.”
“There’s no statute of limitations on snowball fights.”
“Oh yeah? Well, look out!” Saul bent, scooped up snow, packed it, and drew back his arm like a baseball pitcher.
Abram picked up Sam and darted behind the snowman. The snowball hit him on the arm. “C’mon, Sam, we need more snowballs.”
Sam made the snowballs and handed them to Abram who pelted Saul with them as fast as Sam could make them.
Saul scooped up snow and retaliated for several minutes, and then, laughing, he threw up his hands. “Onkel! Truce!”
“What do you think, Sam? Should we call a truce?”
“What’s a truce?”
“Saul is giving up. We stop the snowball fight.”
“Oh, but it was fun. I liked it.”
“I know. Me, too.”
Saul laughed. “Guys, it’s cold out here, and I have things to do.”
“Maybe we should let it go,” Abram told Sam. “Bet we could get my mamm to make us some hot chocolate.”
“With marshmallows?” Saul asked.
Abram looked at him. “With marshmallows.”
“I want hot chocolate,” Sam said. He stepped forward, tripped in the snow, and tipped over onto his back. He struggled to get up but lay there like a little turtle on his back. “Abram!” Sam flapped his arms. “Pick me up!”
Laughing, Abram scooped him up. “So, Saul, were you stopping by for the keepsake boxes I promised you?”
Saul brushed the snow from his chest. “I sure wasn’t stopping by to get into a snowball fight.”
“It was fun!” Sam cried.
Saul grinned. “It was.”
Abram saw Rachel Ann walking toward them. He went still, watching her approach. She greeted Saul then Abram.
“Danki for staying with Elizabeth while I had to go out of town,” Saul said.
“No thanks needed. We had fun,” Rachel Ann told him.
So that was where she’d been the other night, thought Abram.
“Wachel Ann, we had a snowball fight!” Sam cried.
She looked at each of them. “I see.”
“Abram started it,” Saul said.
“He did,” Abram said. He turned to Rachel Ann. “You remember, Saul hit me with a snowball after schul one day.”
“Can you believe him?” Saul asked her. “He’s bringing it up after all these years.”
“It was fun!” Sam told her.
She smiled at him. “I’m glad you had a good time. You need to come home now.”
“We were gonna have hot chocolate,” Abram spoke up.
“We’ll have some at home.”
“Allrecht, Sam, let’s get you home then.” Abram swung him up on his shoulders.
“You don’t need to walk us home,” Rachel Ann said quickly.
“I want to.”
“Don’t want to go home,” Sam cried.
“You have your hot chocolate and maybe your mamm will let you come over again sometime.”
Sam sighed and leaned down to hug Abram’s head. “I love you, Abram.”
He climbed the steps to the porch and reached up to pull Sam down, bending to hug him. “I love you, Sam.” He glanced at Rachel, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He turned and walked back to his house.
Saul had his hands on his hips and was frowning when Abram returned to his front yard. “What’s going on between you two?”
“What do you mean?”
“The two of you didn’t look at each other once when she was over here. I could feel the tension between you.”
Abram gazed over at Rachel Ann’s house. He could walk the distance from his house to hers so quickly, but now it felt like there was this huge chasm stretching between them.
He sighed. “I honestly don’t know what’s wrong. She told me she doesn’t want to see me anymore.”
Shocked, Saul stared at him. “And you have no idea why?”
“None. She won’t talk to me about it.” He sighed. “Let’s go have some hot chocolate or coffee to warm up.”
Saul slapped him on the back. “Things will work out.”
Abram wished he was as certain.
* * *
Rachel Ann never minded hard work, and as the days flew by, she was grateful she was busy so she could try to keep her mind off Abram.
The bakery got busier with every day, and Linda had to hire another baker who came in after Rachel Ann left in the mornings. Stitches in Time always bustled with customers when she walked in after her time in the bakery. She felt guilty she couldn’t offer Leah more hours, but Leah refused to hear her apology.
“We do the best we can,” she said firmly. “It’s just going to be busy this time of the year, that’s all.”
A few days after she last saw Abram, his mother came into the shop. “Abram had to run an errand in town so I decided to ride along and get a few things,” she told Rachel Ann. “I like to keep a few gifts for unexpected visitors.”
Rachel Ann couldn’t help wondering if Sarah would be getting a present from her. Abram was free now to pursue Sarah . . .
“I’ve made some food gifts, cookies and candy and such, but I have to hide them from Abram or there’s nothing left to give by Christmas,” she said. “You know what a sweet tooth he has.”
Was it her imagination Lovina watched her for some reaction?
“Ya, he does,” she agreed politely and smiled. “Do you need help today or would you like to browse?”
“I think I’ll browse in the fabric section. Can’t ever have enough fabric, especially if you don’t make it to town often.”
“You let me know if I can help you in any way,” Rachel Ann told her and hurried away. She had no idea if Abram had shared with her they weren’t seeing each other anymore. They’d agreed they wouldn’t share anything with their parents just yet so she doubted Abram had said anything to her.
Elizabeth showed up at lunchtime, her cheeks pink from the cold. “Saul insisted I get away for a little while,” she told Rachel Ann. “I know I should have called first, but I thought I’d take a chance you’d go to lunch with me. My treat.”
Leah popped up behind her, hands full of bolts of fabric. “Take advantage of the lull, Rachel Ann. It won’t last long.”
They were no sooner seated at the restaurant and their orders taken than Elizabeth turned to Rachel Ann. “Saul said he stopped by to see Abram last week and saw you.”
Rachel Ann nodded and took a sip from her glass of water. She knew what was coming.
“He said the two of you wouldn’t look at each other.”
“And?”
“I didn’t tell him why you weren’t seeing Abram anymore. It’s your business.”
“Danki.” She picked up half o
f her chicken salad sandwich and took a bite.
“He said something interesting, Rachel Ann.”
“What?”
“He said he could tell both of you were unhappy and he couldn’t figure out what happened, because he couldn’t imagine a couple who should be together more than the two of you.”
She tried to swallow the bite of sandwich, but it stuck in her throat. She took a sip of her water and forced it down. “It can’t be helped. Breakups aren’t easy.”
“It can be helped, Rachel Ann. I still feel you’re not being fair to Abram by not telling him.”
“I told you why, Elizabeth.”
“There are two people in a relationship,” Elizabeth told her, looking at her with concern. “I hurt Saul by not talking to him when I was grieving after I miscarried. I don’t want to see you throw away a life with Abram by bottling this up and not sharing it with him. You and he were best friends before you dated. You have a long history together. I don’t think having his own kind means more to him than having you as a fraa.”
She paused, looking earnestly at Rachel Ann. “Please, think about what you can have, not what you can’t with Abram.”
“Elizabeth? Are you going to eat your lunch? Because you need to eat for the baby, you know. And we don’t have a whole lot of time left of our lunch hour.”
Elizabeth sighed and picked up her fork. “Fine. I’m not going to say another word.” She narrowed her eyes at Rachel Ann. “Stop smirking. You think I can’t stop talking to you about this?”
“Nagging me, you mean?”
She drew herself up and tried to look offended. Then she grinned. “I’ll show you. I won’t say another word. It’ll be hard not to try to keep you from making a big mistake, but if it’s what I have to do—”
“Danki,” Rachel Ann said with a grin. Her grin faded. “I do appreciate your concern. I’ll think about it, allrecht?”
“You mean it?”
She nodded.
They spent the rest of their lunch hour talking about the upcoming holiday, about the presents they’d made for family and friends, and about Elizabeth’s prenatal checkup. Then Elizabeth was ordering Saul a sandwich.
They walked back to Stitches and hugged, then Rachel Ann watched Elizabeth wend her way through the tourists on the sidewalk.
The afternoon went by in a blur of shoppers who looked increasingly more frantic the closer it got to Christmas. They didn’t just need presents—they needed ideas for them. Worn out, Rachel Ann caught herself nodding off on the drive home, her head falling forward and waking her up.
“You’re chicken pecking,” Mary Beiler said with a chuckle.
Mary worked at a store a block down from Rachel Ann, and they frequently sat together in the rear seat of the van. She yawned. “Just a few more days,” she said with a sigh as she leaned back against the seat. “We’ll make it.”
“I wish I felt as sure,” Rachel Ann told her.
Home never looked so good. The van had barely stopped before she was stepping out and hurrying to the front door.
“Don’t worry about the dishes tonight,” her mother told her later as they sat sipping a cup of tea after supper. “You look exhausted.”
“You mean because I almost fell asleep in the mashed potatoes?” she asked with a wry smile.
“I’m glad Sam wore down early tonight. It’ll give me a chance to get one of his presents finished and wrapped.”
They cleared the table, and her mother reached into a cupboard for the navy sweater she’d been knitting. All she had to do was sew on the buttons.
“Abram said he made Sam a little wagon.”
She knotted the thread and clipped it. “Abram’s so good with Sam.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“May I?” her mother corrected her.
Rachel Ann chuckled. Sometimes she forgot her mother had taught schul before she married and had kinner. “May I? Were you ever sorry you and Daed only had two kinner?”
“You’ve never asked me that before,” her mother said with surprise.
She couldn’t tell her mother that she tended to be a little remote and didn’t invite the closeness and girl chats her friends had confided they enjoyed with their mothers. Maybe it came from her being more of a stern schoolmarm back when she was younger.
“I’d like to have had more kinner,” she admitted, with a faraway look in her eyes. “But it took five years before I got pregnant with you and then, my goodness, more than fifteen before I had Sam. Just before I got pregnant with him, the doctor did a procedure and I was able to have him. She said I had something called endometriosis, making it difficult to get pregnant.” She sighed, threaded her needle, and started sewing on another button.
Rachel Ann started at that. “I didn’t know. Mamm, that’s what the doctor told me I have.”
Her mother gave her a sharp look. “Well, the doctor told me I might have trouble getting pregnant, and it did take a long time. But as you can see, I did have Sam after what he said. God decides, not doctors.”
Rachel Ann watched her mother finish sewing a third button, and then she held up the sweater and nodded. She fetched the Christmas wrap, tape, and ribbon and set it on the table for her mother before going to the sink and filling it with water and dishwashing liquid.
“I told you, you don’t have to do them tonight.”
“It’s allrecht. You have enough to do.” She stood at the sink and couldn’t help looking over at Abram’s house. He wasn’t out in the yard. She wondered what he was doing tonight.
She felt tears slipping down her cheeks, falling into the dishwater. She missed him so much, it was a physical pain in her chest.
* * *
“Wachel Ann! Wachel Ann! Is it Chris-mas yet?”
Sam bounced up and down on Rachel Ann’s bed. She opened her eyes and saw it was still dark. Groaning, she pulled her pillow over her head.
He turned on the battery-operated lamp on her bedside table and shook her arm. “What time is it?”
She squinted at the clock. “Sam! It’s only four o’clock! We are not getting up now.” She lifted her quilt. “C’mon, get in and we’ll sleep a little while longer and then we can get up.”
He gave her a big sigh but turned off the lamp and climbed in.
She jerked when she touched his feet as she tucked him closer. “Oh, my gosh, Sam, your feet are freezing!”
He giggled and snuggled closer. “Love you, Wachel Ann.”
“Love you, Sam.”
He wiggled a bit but within minutes fell asleep. She smiled, remembering how impatient she’d been for Christmas when she was little. Her parents had been firm about what time they would get up and let her open presents, so she was just protecting him. On the other hand, as a late baby, both her parents tended to overlook some behaviors she remembered getting into trouble for. And of course, ever since the accident, he’d been indulged much more.
She shuddered at the memory of the accident as Sam snuggled closer, wrapping his little arms around her, comforting her in his sleep. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Oh, he was so adorable. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks to God for the gift of this child. The family had been given Sam four years ago, and now he was here to celebrate the birth of Christ another year.
Rachel Ann didn’t join Sam in sleep but lay there thinking about what her mother had said earlier, thinking about Abram . . .
The thin pale light of dawn was blooming when her mother tiptoed into the room. “So this is where he is,” she whispered. “Did he have a bad dream?”
She smiled. “Nee, he was looking for Christmas. I told him it was too early and to get some more sleep. Should we wake him up now?”
“Nee. You didn’t get back to sleep? Are you allrecht?”
She nodded. “I was just thinking about things. People. God is so gut. He gave us Sam a second time instead of welcoming him into heaven.”
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears, and her lips trembled. “And H
e gave me a special daughter who reminds me of His love.” She blinked back her tears and smiled. “I’m going to start breakfast. Get some more sleep. No need to get up early. No work today.”
Rachel Ann drifted off, and when she woke next Sam was gone. She dressed and went downstairs.
“Wachel Ann! Mamm says it’s Chris-mas!” Sam cried when he saw her walk into the kitchen. “It’s finally here!”
“So it is,” she said.
“There are pancakes keeping warm in the oven,” her mother told her.
Rachel Ann bent to hug her mother. “Where’s Daed?”
“In the barn. He said no one’s to come out there. I suspect he waited until the last minute to finish—” She stopped as she saw Sam listening. “Finish some chores.”
Rachel Ann got a plate out of the cupboard, served herself some pancakes, and sat at the table. She poured syrup over the pancakes and cut herself a bite.
“Chris-mas,” Sam said with a sigh. He leaned over and gave his mother a kiss on her cheek that left a syrupy imprint. “Merry Chris-mas, Mamm and Wachel Ann!”
Tonight, they’d gather in the living room before the fire and Daed would read the story of the night Jesus was born from his big Bible. It would be a special time just for the family to celebrate the spiritual meaning of Christmas. Tomorrow, extended family and friends would come to visit, bearing gifts and joy.
“Merry Chris-mas, Sam,” she said, smiling at her baby bruder.
18
Rachel Ann was pulling a pan of pumpkin muffins from the oven on Second Christmas when Lovina opened the back door, letting in a gust of cold air. She was the first visitor on this day when family and visitors came bearing gifts.
“If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed . . . ” she said, handing Rachel Ann a present before shedding the woolen shawl she’d tossed over her shoulders to keep her warm as she walked over from her house next door.
“Pardon me?”
“I wasn’t sure if you felt comfortable coming to the house, so I decided to come over here.”
Rachel Ann blushed. She didn’t know what Abram had told her, but now wasn’t the time to discuss it when her family sat in the next room and might overhear.
“Why don’t you go on into the living room and I’ll bring you some tea or coffee?”
One True Path Page 18