Schumacher had left town. “You can rely on Sister Muhlbach to answer any questions or help you. She’s been very pleased with you of late.”
Berta grimaced. “Sister Muhlbach isn’t like having you in the kitchen.” She tucked a jar of strawberry preserves into the basket. “Still, I’m glad you’re going to see Wilhelm. It’s too bad they weren’t here when we made the filled noodles.”
“I’m sure Wilhelm will enjoy Sister Muhlbach’s creamed chicken and potato dumplings. He was always fond of those.” I chuckled. “And most anything else served in the Küche—except the liver dumplings. He didn’t like those at all.”
My anticipation mounted as memories of Wilhelm’s years in Amana flooded my mind. He’d taught me how to climb trees and how to catch fish. He’d taught me how to paddle a canoe and row a boat. He’d even taught me how to swim—just in case the boat should tip. He’d been a wonderful big brother to me. I finished packing the basket and covered the contents with a clean towel.
“I’d like to meet them sometime while they are here,” Berta said, following me to the door.
“Of course! I want them to meet you, as well. Father received permission for us to miss prayer service this evening, but you will meet them tomorrow for sure.” After a quick hug, I hurried out the door without looking back. Seeing the despair in Berta’s eyes would make me feel guilty, and I wanted to feel joy instead of guilt.
I had rounded the side of the Küche when I spied a buggy stopped in front of our house. My heart jumped into quickstep. I tried to relax, but the marching beat continued to hammer my chest. In the distance I could see Wilhelm assisting his wife from the carriage. If I hadn’t been burdened with the food baskets, I would have run to meet them.
When I arrived at the front door, they were greeting Mother in the hallway. She looked up when I entered the door, and I detected what appeared to be disappointment, and it was directed at me. Why should she be unhappy that I had appeared? Perhaps she and Father had wanted to visit with Wilhelm and Larissa before I arrived home. I clenched the basket handles until my hands ached and forced me to relax my hold.
Wilhelm turned and flashed a bright smile. “Johanna!” I immediately placed the baskets on the floor and held out my arms to receive his embrace. His hug was warm and fierce, all at the same time.
When he released me, he turned to his wife. “I want you to meet my wife, Larissa. She’s eager to become acquainted with you.” He glanced at my parents. “With all of you.”
“The feeling is mutual. I am very pleased to finally meet you, Larissa.” She was a pretty woman with hair the shade of brewed coffee and pale blue eyes that contradicted the dark hair and olive complexion. I guessed she was probably five or six years older than I and at least two inches shorter. If she removed her hat and Wilhelm held out his arm, she could probably pass beneath. Her appearance was much different from what I’d expected. I had always pictured Wilhelm’s wife with blond hair, blue eyes, and a pale complexion. At least I’d gotten the eye color correct.
Mother had pushed together two side tables and covered them with a cloth to create a makeshift dining table. She hurried us to sit down before the food became cold, and I could sense her discomfort as we prayed. It continued for the remainder of the meal. We weren’t accustomed to entertaining, especially outsiders.
While we cleared the table after the meal, Larissa and I did our best to make conversation. “There was a flavor I couldn’t distinguish in the creamed chicken,” she commented.
My mother stepped closer. “You didn’t like it?”
Larissa continued scraping remnants from the dinner plates, but the color in her cheeks deepened. “I liked it very much. I simply couldn’t determine the flavor.”
“Nutmeg. I think that may be it. Nutmeg gives a different flavor to the dish,” I said, hoping to relieve Larissa’s obvious embarrassment.
“Oh yes. Now that you’ve told me, I realize that is the seasoning I tasted. The entire meal was quite delicious. I can’t remember the last time I had creamed chicken.”
My mother gathered the corners of the tablecloth together. “We don’t eat fancy here, but we serve gut hearty meals. We work hard and need food that fills the stomach and sticks to the bones.”
My mother seemed compelled to defend our ways to Wilhelm’s wife. Tablecloth in hand, she marched out the back door to shake off the crumbs. I rounded the table and leaned close to Larissa. “I think Mutter is concerned you will find our food and surroundings quite plain.”
I decided it must be the strain of having Wilhelm’s wife visit with us for the first time. At least I hoped that was all that was bothering Mother, for I thought Wilhelm’s wife very nice—and quite fashionable. Berta would approve of Larissa’s pale plum walking dress with black satin piping. Gold and plum earrings dangled from her earlobes, and a bar-shaped pin was fastened atop an ecru jabot.
“I’m sure it’s difficult for her. Wilhelm warned me she wasn’t happy he’d married me,” Larissa whispered.
“It’s not you, Larissa. Mutter hoped Wilhelm would come back to Amana. Once he married, she knew he would never return—at least not to live here. Give her time. Once she gets to know you, she’ll be fine.” I didn’t want Larissa to feel unwelcome. It had taken Wilhelm far too long to bring her to meet us. If the visit didn’t go well, she’d likely never return. “I’ve been given permission to take the day off work tomorrow. If you’d like, I can take you around the village. I’ll give you a grand tour if Wilhelm doesn’t have other plans.”
Wilhelm and my father were sitting in the far corner with their heads together. At the mention of his name, he looked up and grinned. “Are you talking about me, Johanna?”
“Only to ask if you have plans for tomorrow. I have a day away from the Küche and would like to take Larissa for a tour of the village.”
Wilhelm withdrew a pipe from his pocket and filled the bowl with tobacco. “Of course. I’m going to ride over to Homestead with Vater. I’m sure Larissa would prefer to see the village and visit with you. Thank you, Johanna.”
While Larissa couldn’t comprehend the significance of being granted a day off work, or how seldom such a request was made, my brother understood. And I heard the appreciation in his voice. “We’ll have great fun,” I told Larissa. “I’ll take you to see how our baskets and brooms are made, and we’ll go visit the mill—you might even want to purchase some fabric for a new dress.”
My mother returned while I was outlining our possible activities. Larissa smiled in her direction. “Will you be joining us, Mrs. Ilg?”
“It’s our busy time in the garden. I must be at work, but I’m sure Johanna will make certain you see everything,” she replied, folding the tablecloth into a perfect square. “If you all are in agreement, we will eat our meals in the Küche tomorrow.”
Wilhelm pushed to his feet. “That will be fine, Mutter. I look forward to visiting with some of the men.” He motioned to Larissa.
“We’ve had a long day of travel, and we need to get settled at the hotel. There will be time to visit tomorrow. I don’t want you to miss prayer service.”
Although I didn’t want them to leave so early in the evening, I understood they’d had a long day. How I wished we had an extra bedroom so they could stay with us, but we’d been assigned smaller quarters when Wilhelm moved to Chicago. Still, the hotel was nearby, and visitors to our village said the rooms were neat and clean.
After they’d departed, my mother removed her apron and smoothed the front of her dress. “If we hurry, we can arrive at prayer service before they begin.”
I wanted to shout that we had permission to miss the service this evening, but I refrained. Instead, I met her determined gaze.
“Why were you so unfriendly to Larissa?”
She gasped. “I was not unfriendly.”
“You were. Wasn’t she, Vater?”
He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable I’d put him in the middle of the disagreement. “Maybe unfrien
dly is too strong a word, but you weren’t very warm toward her, Emilie. She seems like a nice woman, and Wilhelm is happy with her. Isn’t that most important?”
“And if Wilhelm hadn’t married her, he might have returned here to us.” She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and tucked the ends into the waistband of her skirt. “Come along, Johanna. Get your shawl. We’re going to be late.”
My father grasped her elbow. “This isn’t like you, Emilie. You’re placing blame where it doesn’t belong. If you want to be angry, be angry with your son. Even if he hadn’t married Larissa, he wouldn’t have returned. He chose to live in Chicago long before he met her.”
“But he might have changed his mind.”
My father shook his head. “That’s not true, Emilie. He was already set in the ways of the outside world. Wife or no, he would not have returned.”
I ventured a sidelong glance at my mother as we hurried down the sidewalk, our shoes clacking on the wooden boards. She didn’t appear convinced.
When I sat down at prayer service, Berta whispered to me, but I shook my head. “I’ll explain later.” She fidgeted throughout the meeting, and the moment we walked out the door, she bombarded me with questions.
“Where are they? Did they go home already? What happened? I thought you had permission to miss prayer services this evening.” She inhaled a deep breath. “Well, tell me!”
“If you stop asking questions, I will tell you.” I waved her back a few steps so that my mother wouldn’t hear. She wouldn’t approve of my telling Berta our business. In a hushed voice I quickly explained what had happened. “I hope things will go better tomorrow.”
Berta nodded. “Sometimes it’s difficult to understand parents, don’t you agree?”
I chuckled at her question. “Indeed it is, even when you’re as old as I am. I said a special prayer that Mutter would soften her heart toward Larissa.”
“If she’s going to be unhappy with either of them, I think it should be Wilhelm. He’s the one who chose to leave the community. Poor Larissa,” Berta lamented. “I feel sorry for her. For your sake I hope they don’t decide to leave bright and early tomorrow.” She hesitated. “Do you think they might have left this evening instead of going to the hotel?”
“No, of course not. They were tired from a day of travel. Besides, Wilhelm would never leave without saying good-bye.”
I’d uttered the rebuttal with great confidence, but when I crawled into bed later that night, Berta’s words plagued me. I fell asleep with her thoughts nipping at the fringes of my consciousness like a troublesome puppy. I awakened the next morning, fraught with memories of unpleasant dreams about Larissa begging Wilhelm to take her home.
When the bell tolled to announce breakfast, I walked with my parents to the Küche feeling completely out of place. I’d asked for permission to go to the hotel and accompany Wilhelm and Larissa, but my mother had refused. “You have the entire day to be with them. Besides, I doubt Larissa will rise early enough to eat breakfast. She may be one of those society ladies who sleep late.”
I didn’t know how my mother would know about society ladies or if they even slept late, but her comment annoyed me. “Look! There they are.” I waved gaily as Wilhelm and Larissa approached in the distance. “You see? She doesn’t sleep late. Let’s wait for them,” I said, coming to a halt. “Larissa won’t know where to sit.”
“You and your father can wait. I’ll go inside and save two extra places at the table.”
My father pushed his hat back on his head and winked at me. “You could take Larissa to the barns and introduce her to Carl.”
“We’ll see,” I said.
I wasn’t certain why my father was going to Homestead, but I assumed there was a piece of new farm equipment due to arrive on the train. Our people prided themselves on using the most modern methods and equipment in all of our work. If it saved time, we would use it. More free time meant more time to commune with the Lord, a virtue we strived to attain. I was pleased my father and Wilhelm would have time to visit alone. I hoped I would have the same opportunity.
“I think it would be a gut thing to have them meet, don’t you?”
“I don’t know how much time we’ll have. There are lots of places I’d like to take her. If we decide to go see the lambs over in East, could I use a buggy?”
“Ja, of course. I’ll tell Carl he should get one ready for you.”
“No. I’d rather you just tell him that I have permission to take a buggy, and I’ll let him know if I need one. I wouldn’t want him to go to the trouble if we don’t need it.”
“Don’t need what?” Wilhelm asked as he and Larissa approached.
While we walked up the steps to the kitchen, my father explained to Wilhelm. Larissa glanced over her shoulder toward our house. “Where’s your mother?”
“She went inside to save a place for us at one of the women’s tables.”
Larissa smiled. “That’s very kind of her.”
Once we entered the dining room, I reached for Larissa’s hand. “Over this way.” I strained to see if my mother was in her usual place. When I spotted her, I hurried Larissa across the room. “Here we are,” I said. “Isn’t Larissa’s gown pretty?” The bodice of the pale blue gown boasted narrow pleats that perfectly matched the pleating around each of the dress sleeves.
“Ja. It is very nice.”
Why couldn’t my mother offer a little more conversation, a little more warmth? Berta offered a tentative wave from the kitchen door, and I smiled in return. I continued to hold –Larissa’s hand while we recited our prayer. “I hope you will like the breakfast.”
“Nothing fancy,” my mother said.
“I know. Just good, hearty food,” Larissa replied. “You told me last night.”
I almost giggled out loud. Berta approached our table carrying a platter of fried potatoes in one hand and sausages in the other. Apparently she’d been on good behavior or she wouldn’t have been permitted to serve a table where guests were seated. “This is my friend Berta Schumacher, who works with me in the kitchen each day. Berta, this is Wilhelm’s wife, Larissa Ilg.”
Berta gave a tiny curtsy. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Ilg. I hope you enjoy your visit.”
“Thank you, Miss Schumacher. It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”
“Your dress is lovely. It’s a near perfect match for your eyes,” Berta said before scurrying back to the kitchen.
“She seems like a sweet young lady with fine manners,” Larissa said.
My mother frowned. “Ja. She understands the ways of the world, but she hasn’t learned to conform to our ways.”
Larissa spooned a serving of potatoes onto her plate. “She’s so polite. That’s hard to believe.” Without waiting for a response from my mother, she passed the china platter. “Potatoes, Johanna?”
My mother curled her lips into a thin seam and remained silent for the rest of the meal. As soon as the after-breakfast prayer had been recited, she bid us a brief and hurried farewell. I exhaled a sigh of relief. My mother hadn’t been particularly agreeable, but at least she hadn’t said anything unkind to Larissa.
“Wilhelm says your mother thinks I’m the reason he hasn’t returned to Amana. That’s why he’s never wanted me to come here. He didn’t think she’d welcome me.” Sadness shadowed her eyes. “I suppose he was correct.”
“Deep in her heart she knows he wouldn’t have returned. One day she will accept his new life and be happy for him.” Though I spoke the words with authority, I wasn’t truly convinced.
One thing was certain: With Mother at work, the remainder of the day would be more pleasant.
CHAPTER 20
Before we departed the dining room, I took Larissa to the kitchen and introduced her to Sister Muhlbach and the other workers. Larissa’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the huge brick stove and wood-fired oven.
“Such a large sink,” she said when I pointed out the six-foot-long trough and washstand.
I quickly agreed. Then Larissa questioned me about the cheese molds and noodle boards. “All of the tools we use in the kitchen are made here in the village. The cooper makes our wooden buckets and barrels, and the large casks we use for wine making. The tinsmith makes our pails and pudding molds, even our cookie cutters, the big ladles, and spoons.”
“He does a fine job, too,” Sister Muhlbach said. “And you’ll not find a better broom maker or basket weaver than those who live in Amana. You might want to see some of the fine calico we have at the general store. Our woolens and calicos are the finest you can buy anywhere.”
One of the paring-knife sisters passed through the kitchen as Sister Muhlbach was extolling the products and shook her head.
“Those are mighty prideful words, Sister Muhlbach.”
“But true,” the Küchebaas replied with a hearty laugh. “Make sure you return in time for the noonday meal. We’ll have a special dessert.”
“They all seem very nice,” Larissa said after we headed off toward one of the shops.
“Amana is a fine place to live. Not like what you’re used to, of course, but I think you’ll find our shops and people all interesting,” I said as we entered the broom maker’s shop. We watched while he completed one of the small brushes used to wipe crumbs from the table. Though he spoke when we entered, his focus remained fixed upon his work. To my surprise Larissa appeared quite interested and asked several questions before we departed for the basket-making shop. Her eyes shone with delight when she surveyed the varying sizes and shapes perched on a shelf and hanging from wooden hooks awaiting delivery to households in the village. There were bread baskets, laundry baskets, apple baskets, and every other size and shape in between.
“The ones on the shelf are display baskets. When visitors come to the village they can see the sizes and shapes that are made,” I explained.
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