by Sarah Price
It would be a longer walk than usual since the singing was further away. Sylvia didn’t mind, as long as Jake was by her side. She didn’t speak, waiting for him to say something first. But for the first few minutes, the silence remained. Their shoes made crunching noises against the loose gravel of the macadam. But, other than the crickets singing their spring tune, the night was silent.
“It’s been a long week, Sylvia,” he said, finally breaking the ice.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“We missed you,” he said, giving her hand a strong squeeze.
“We?”
He laughed. “The cows. The horses. Those ornery mules.” He paused. “And me. I missed you.” He stopped walking and held her at arm’s length. In the darkness, she could see his silhouette but not much more. The moon was tucked behind some sheer clouds, which cast a blue glow around them. He rubbed her arms with his hands. “It’ll be a long summer if you aren’t there.”
“It’ll be even longer, Jake,” she whispered.
“Longer?”
She nodded, not knowing if he could see her. “My sister-in-law…she’s about to have another baby. They want me to go stay with her for a few months. To help with her little ones.”
“Months.” The word was spoken with no emotion.
“I suppose it will go by quickly,” she added, but she didn’t believe what she said.
“I suppose.” He was quiet. Too quiet. His mood was more somber than usual. She lifted her eyes to look at his face. At that moment, there was a break in the clouds and the light from the moon shone down on the couple. He stared back at her and pulled her closer to him. Then, with just one hand, he removed her prayer cap and, with his other hand, he worked his fingers through her bun, gently removing the pins that kept it in place.
She kept her face tilted toward him but shut her eyes. Never had anyone outside of her family touched her hair or seen her with it down. The intimacy of the moment sent soft waves throughout her body and she shivered. When her hair was down, he stroked it, amazed at how long it was, almost to her waist. It was soft and silky, virgin hair that had never been cut. He leaned forward and nuzzled his face into it, smelling the fresh clean scent. His embrace engulfed her and she pressed her cheek against his shoulder.
“Jake,” she whispered.
“Come,” he replied with a hoarse voice as he forced himself to release her and continue walking. “This time, I have my truck parked just up the road.” He paused. “Good thing. I need to get you home.”
“But…” She stopped herself. It was so early. Her parents would wonder why she was home before eleven if she was, indeed, courting someone. Plus, she had hoped to spend more time with him, especially after they had not seen each other during the week. Each hour had passed so painfully slow. There were moments when all she could do was retreat to a part of the farm where no one would be in order to have herself a good cry. She was almost willing to throw away everything, just walk away to be with him. And now…she bit her lip, fighting the tears…now that they were finally together, he wanted to take her home? It didn’t make sense.
“I don’t trust myself, Sylvia,” he said, his voice still thick and low. “And I won’t do that to you.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, her words barely audible.
“I know you don’t, Sylvia. And that’s part of the beauty of you.” He laid his arm across her shoulder, her hair still hanging free and entwined in his fingers. He tugged playfully at one of the strands. “I’m trying to conform to your world, you see…instead of forcing you to conform to mine.”
They were at the truck and she took a deep breath. “Is there a difference anymore? Are our worlds so different now?” She reached for the door handle. “I think they have already converged, ja?”
As she tried to open the door, he put his hand out and stopped it. Shutting it behind her, he pressed against her, pushing her back until she was leaning against the truck. His one hand was still over her head, blocking an escape as he tilted her chin up with his free hand. “Let me give you a taste of where I come from and what courtship is about,” he murmured, his voice soft as he lowered his mouth onto hers.
She felt the warm, moist pressure of his lips as he gave her a passionate kiss that she had only seen on the theater screen. She felt herself weaken against the truck, her body slowly melting against his as he probed and sought her own passion. Shutting her eyes, she found herself giving way to him, wishing that she didn’t feel so free and liberated, her hair hanging over her shoulders, pieces of it brushing against his cheek and hers. His thumb stroked her neck as he kissed her, holding her face steady. When he finally pulled back, she was breathless and weak. Softly, he kissed the tip of her nose and then her forehead.
“To the Plain people, that is considered a sin, ja?” he asked, emphasizing the word ja. “To my people, that is just the beginning of the most beautiful relationship between a man and woman. Now, unless you want to see what happens after the beginning, I suggest that you get in the truck so I can take you home, dear Sylvia. Our worlds have yet to truly converge, wouldn’t you agree?”
Without any further questions, she did as he commanded. Her knees were weak, her face was flushed, her pulse was rapidly pumping the burning blood that flowed through her veins. The words of her mother echoed in her mind whenever she had preached “Best to save kissing for marriage.” She had always been taught that the lustful compromise of any type of intimacy could get in the way of a proper courtship. After all, this was a time when a couple determined how compatible they were from a practical perspective.
Sexual intimacy, even of the somewhat benign nature that they had just shared, aroused sensual thoughts that detracted from the real questions that needed to be asked during courtship. She understood that better than ever, as all she could think about was the powerful feelings that Jake Edwards had instilled in her with that one passionate kiss. Yet the romantic passion that he had introduced to her life had clearly shown her the other side of the world, the world that she had been safely shielded from experiencing. Now, she thought as she looked out the window as he drove her home, her hand entwined with Jake’s, she understood why.
Chapter Fifteen
For the next few weeks, Sylvia worked alongside her father and Daniel as they finished plowing the backfield and prepared for planting the acres of corn. There were two crops, one for silage, which was planted along the outer perimeter and one for eating which would be harvested later and, therefore, was planted within the inner section. Samuel would soon be finished with schooling for the year and would join the men in the fields in time for the planting, none too soon in Sylvia’s mind.
The days began at 5am and ended well into the night. There were no singings on those Sundays, not for Sylvia, anyway. She was exhausted and found herself sleeping on the sofa in her parents’ reading room. Her mother gently shook her awake, telling her that it was time for her to go to bed. Sylvia didn’t argue. Her muscles ached, her hands were sore, and her heart felt heavy. She hadn’t seen Jake since that night after the singing. He haunted her thoughts and she woke most mornings knowing that she had spent her hours sleeping in his presence, if only in her dreams.
The only word she had about Jake came from Steve who, while finished planting the corn crop on the rented acre at Jake’s farm, often went over to help him with the milking or other chores, although Sylvia suspected it was more to watch for the budding shoots of corn. She did her best to look disinterested in any news but, inside, she hung on every word. Apparently the cows were doing well and Steve commented how fastidious Jake was about keeping the barn clean.
“Who ever heard of a barn without cobwebs?” he laughed one night.
Sylvia forced a smile but she didn’t feel that humor. She waited until the end of the meal to help clear the table and wash the dishes, answering any questions that were asked of her but remaining unusually silent, even for her. A few times, her mother asked if she was feeling well and Sylvia manage
d a simple nod with a forced smile. But, beyond that, she remained aloof and distant, her mind traveling a mile down the road to another farm where she imagined Jake sitting alone, at the table in the kitchen, eating his own meal.
By the beginning of June, the weather was warm and the days were suddenly not as full of activities. The corn was planted and wouldn’t be harvested for at least four months. The winter wheat was beginning to ripen but still needed another month until it was time to be cut. Still, there was no talk of Sylvia returning to Jake’s farm to help him. Sylvia spent her days helping her mother clean, cook, and do laundry. When the sun began to set in the sky, she would weed the garden until it was time for the evening milking. Often she would stare into the horizon, wondering what Jake was doing at that exact minute…wondering if he was thinking about her. But she had no way of knowing and no way of communicating with him.
The upcoming church Sunday was to be held at their farm. Sylvia knew exactly what that meant. Since the services rotated among the members’ homes, it meant that at least once, although sometimes twice, a year, the church community would gather at the Lapp farm for worship and fellowship. It also meant that Katie would be frantic cleaning the house and the barn. During the summer months, they often would gather in the barns where it was cooler. But the fellowship time meant that people would be in the house as well.
During the days leading up to the Sunday worship, Lillian came over to help both Katie and Sylvia. They scrubbed floors and baseboard, wiped the walls, and dusted every nook and cranny of the house. Even when Sylvia thought the house was clean, her mother found other areas to clean. It was a never ending process to make certain that no one would be able to fault Katie’s housekeeping when they attended the Sunday service.
Sylvia and Daniel took turns cutting the grass with the push mower, making certain to sweep up the clippings and drag them to the refuse pile behind the mule shed. They cleared a large area in the barn where the hay was usually stored to make way for the church wagon, a large rectangular wagon that held all of the benches and songbooks. It would sit on their property for the next two weeks until Jonas took it over to the next member’s house for hosting the service.
Then there was the cooking. Sylvia would have done anything to escape the heat of the kitchen as her mother cooked pot after pot of apples for applesauce and baked loaf after loaf of bread. There were pies to bake, beans to shuck, and beets to peel. It never seemed to stop and Sylvia just wanted to disappear to the outside, to feel the sun on her face and dirt under her feet. But her mother needed help and complaining wasn’t in Sylvia’s nature. So, she went about her chores without saying a word.
By the time Sunday finally came, Sylvia was so grateful that she was actually happy for the first time in weeks. It felt good to see her friends. It had been almost three weeks since she had attended the last singing. Daniel had asked her if she wanted to attend one the week before but Sylvia decided against it. She was exhausted from all of the work and from the emotional turmoil of missing Jake. Besides, she didn’t want anyone to ask her for a ride home since Jake certainly wouldn’t know where the singing was.
Inside the barn, the women sat on one side and the men on the other. Older and married women and men sat toward the front while the unmarried youths sat behind them. Sylvia sat at the end, being an unbaptized member of the church. She didn’t mind; she was closer to the door and a cool breeze. She listened as one of the Amish men began to sing from the Ausbund. She shut her eyes and listened as the rest of the congregation began to sing with him. Their words were low and drawn out, creating a very simple harmony with so many variations that they almost blended into one. She waited until they finished the first song and began the second, the Loblied, to join them.
Sylvia watched as the church elders left the barn. They left to discuss who would preach the sermons that day. It was always decided the day of the service, a way for God to lead them. While she would never have admitted it out loud, Sylvia did enjoy the preaching by Elder Miller much more than the others. She secretly hoped that the lot fell to him that day.
There would be two sermons, a short one followed by more singing then a longer one, also followed by more singing. At the end, they would discuss any church or community business. It would take about three hours to complete the service and then the real work began. The women would serve the congregation in shifts. Sylvia wouldn’t eat until almost 1:30, if she was lucky, as she’d be busy serving first the men, then the women, then the rest of the congregation. As the daughter of the host family, she would probably be the last to eat today. But she had no appetite. She hadn’t for days.
As luck would have it, Elder Miller was not one of the preachers on that day. Sylvia tried to sit still during the sermons but her back began to hurt and the heat was making her sleepy. She was thankful for Leah sitting next to her who accidentally kicked her foot when she shifted her weight. It gave Sylvia enough of a jolt to waken up before she actually fell asleep. The final sermon was over and the congregation began to sing a final song from the Ausbund. The words flowed around the barn, so gentle and peaceful. The harmony moved throughout the people like a gentle wave at the beach. It rippled and comforted. It was one of Sylvia’s favorite parts of Church Sunday.
The elders stood at the front of the congregation, announcing that there was some church news. Elder Miller requested that any visitors might retire outside of the barn for this part of the service. Sylvia glanced at Leah then looked around. It was rare that they had visitors. And Sylvia wasn’t the only one wondering who was attending their service that day.
But then she saw him. Jake. He was standing at the back of the church among the unbaptized men. Daniel was next to him. Sylvia tried to maintain her composure, especially when he caught her look and smiled at her. But, just as quick as she saw him, he hurried out of the barn with Daniel at his side. Since Daniel hadn’t taken the kneeling vow yet, he had to leave with the others.
Leah followed Sylvia’s gaze, just as amazed. “Who’s that?” she whispered.
Sylvia felt her heart pounding inside of her chest. Her eyes followed him as he walked outside. He was dressed plain enough, although clearly not Amish. He even held a black wide brimmed hat in his hand. “Our new neighbor.”
“The widower?” she asked, her tone sounding more surprised than actually asking the question.
Sylvia didn’t answer but just nodded her head. When Jake disappeared, she turned to face the front of the gathering but she wasn’t really paying attention. She couldn’t imagine what Jake was doing at the church service. How had he known? People didn’t just show up at an Amish service. Who would have invited him? Perhaps Steve, she thought.
She reached up to smooth her hair back, checking to make certain that there were no stray strands. She was glad that she had worn her blue dress today. It was the newest one that she had. And she didn’t think that he had ever seen her in that color before.
Outside, there were almost two hundred people mingling about, waiting as the benches were rearranged for the fellowship time. Sylvia tried to find Jake in the crowd but she was hustled into the kitchen too quickly to find him. She could only hope that he stayed for socializing. It was the only way that she would get to speak with him, if at all.
Unfortunately, once inside the kitchen, Katie seemed to have too much for her to do that required inside work. Anything that needed to be done outside, Katie directed others to do instead. Sylvia felt her own frustration begin to rise, sensing that her mother was doing this on purpose. But Sylvia had no recourse. She would never challenge her mother nor accuse her of something so sinister as deliberately keeping her daughter away from Jake. Not only would that be improper, dishonoring her mother like that, it would also confirm any suspicions that her mother apparently had.
By the time Sylvia finally managed to get outside, the crowd had slowly begun to thin out. Many of the black buggies that had been hitched to the back fence were gone. The long tables were devoid of people b
ut there were plenty of dirty dishes and glasses remaining. She sighed, searching the crowds for the sole non-Amish man among the Amish men. But she didn’t see him. The dull ache returned to her chest and, for the briefest of moments, she almost felt like crying.
“Sylvia?” Leah asked. “What’s wrong?”
Sylvia turned around, forcing a smile yet again. “Nothing at all.”
Her friend smiled back. “I’ll help you clean this. Many hands…”
“…make light the work,” Sylvia finished what Leah had started. They both laughed and began gathering the dirty remains from the fellowship meal.
Most of the women were outside, socializing while seated in chairs under the shade of the barn. Leah and Sylvia set about washing the piles of dishes. Other young girls carried in more while they worked. Leah took advantage of the emptiness and asked, “What was the widower doing here?”
Sylvia handed Leah the plate she had just washed. “I don’t know.”