Wasn’t he a physically demonstrative person? Try as she did to recall, she couldn’t summon any recollection of the two of them holding hands or embracing before her accident. After her accident, he’d occasionally offered his hand or arm to steady her, but not as a spontaneous gesture of affection. Perhaps his reticence was simply part of his personality. Or was he upset by something else? Had she done something to perturb him? Was he taken aback that she shared the story of his original birthday party with everyone else?
There was only one way to find out: talk to him. He’d indicated he wanted them to be open with each other, didn’t he? That was her desire, too. Anna quickly rose, donned her kapp and thanked the Lord for the memory He’d restored and for those yet to come. Then she finished dressing, made her bed and tiptoed out of the room in order not to wake Melinda.
After making oatmeal with raisins for her brothers, she scribbled a quick note for Raymond to deliver to Fletcher. My dear Fletcher, she began, but then she feared he might think it sounded too coquettish. She ripped up the paper and started again. Fletcher, will you join us for supper at six o’clock? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you. —Anna.
Aaron had arranged to pick Roy and Raymond up that morning, and as soon as his buggy departed the lane, Eli and Evan entered the kitchen.
“Eggs, oatmeal, or cinnamon raisin French toast, boys?” she asked them.
“French toast, please!” they chorused.
“How did I know?” Anna chuckled as she sliced the loaf of bread Naomi made the day before.
The boys sat quietly at the table, rubbing their eyes and chatting with Anna as she made their breakfast. She was glad her stepmother was catching a few extra minutes of sleep; she always relished spending time alone with Eli and Evan. When they were younger, she used to pretend they were her children, not Naomi’s, and she suddenly realized how quickly they were growing and how much she’d miss their familiar childish expressions and antics.
“Have you remembered anything else, Anna?” Evan asked, stifling a yawn.
“Neh, not yet. But I trust it won’t be long until everything returns to me, so if you’ve done anything naughty in the past six months that I never found out about, don’t think you’ve gotten away with it!” she joked, kissing the tops of their blond heads as she reached over them to set the platter of French toast on the table.
“Don’t worry,” Evan said, shaking his head vigorously. “Mamm already reprimanded me for anything I did that I shouldn’t have done!”
Anna had to pinch the skin on her wrist to keep from laughing so she could say grace. After she lifted her head, she picked up the serving fork and asked, “How many slices would you like, Eli?”
“I’m...I’m not hungry,” Eli whimpered. “My stomach hurts.”
“Your stomach hurts?” Naomi sounded alarmed as she entered the kitchen. Placing a hand on Eli’s head, she said, “He doesn’t seem hot to me. What do you think, Anna?”
Anna felt his forehead and then slid her hand down to his cheek. “Neh, he’s not warm. But if you think he should stay home from school, I could—”
“I don’t want to stay home from school,” Eli insisted. “I’m just not hungry. May I be excused from the table?”
“Of course,” Anna said. “Why don’t you go lie down on the sofa and I’ll fill a hot water bottle for your tummy? Evan and I will do your morning chores for you before school starts—how’s that?”
“Gut,” the boy replied, shuffling out of the room.
“If he’s too sick to eat, may I have his pieces of French toast?” Evan asked.
“Neh, we don’t want you getting a tummy ache, too,” Anna replied. “But you may have one additional piece, since you’ll need extra energy to help me with his chores.”
“Denki, Anna!” Evan said, leaning over his plate.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Anna whispered to Naomi above Evan’s head. “Is it because of his appetite?”
“Neh, it’s because of your aptitude. You’re going to make a wunderbaar mamm.”
Anna couldn’t keep the bliss from her voice when she replied, “That’s because I had you as my example.”
“Some example I am—I almost slept as late as Melinda did today!” Naomi pointed to the window. “It’s cloudy, but it’s supposed to be warm again. I think I’ll take advantage of the weather and begin some gardening today.”
“While you’re doing that, I’ll wash the windows,” Anna suggested.
“I don’t know if that’s wise. Did Dr. Donovan say it’s okay to resume strenuous activities?”
“It’s hardly strenuous. In fact, it gives my brain time to wander and that’s when the memories seem likely to return.”
Naomi reluctantly approved. “Well, the windows do need cleaning. I suppose if you take breaks, it might be alright. It will also give me time to work on preparing bedding arrangements for our guests’ kinner. I’m thinking of putting all the boys on the second floor. Do you think it’s warm enough for the girls to sleep in the attic room next to yours?”
“It will be if they’re all tucked in side by side,” Anna said.
Naomi’s question reminded Anna that she needed to retrieve her new material from the other side of the attic and store it in her closet. She’d been helping Melinda with her dress so frequently that she hadn’t taken her own fabric out of its wrapping, except to discreetly give Katie and Tessa their share of the material the evening before. Because she didn’t want Naomi to hear her talk about sewing, Anna hadn’t had the chance to ask her friends if they wanted to schedule a sister day to work on their dresses. Worried about whether they’d finish them on time, Anna thought, Katie’s a terrible procrastinator. A day before Grischtdaag, she still didn’t even know what gifts she was going to give to her mamm and daed.
It took a moment for Anna to realize she’d recalled another memory, and when she did, she was nearly as ecstatic as when it happened the first time. Throughout the day, additional remnants of the previous six months flitted through her mind. Her recollections were random and relatively minor—she recalled quilting with other women from the church, wading with the boys at the creek and the day an Englisch customer inquired about purchasing a dozen kapps in the shop. Many of the memories were fragmented and some were hazier than others, but there was no doubt her recollections were authentic, since no one had given her any hint about the events she recalled. She was so invigorated that she breezed through washing all of the windows in the house.
She was wringing out her rag after wiping the final pane when Evan and Eli returned from school and Melinda from the shop. Shortly afterward, as Anna was peeling potatoes for supper, she heard a buggy in the lane and had to restrain herself from throwing open the door to greet Fletcher. But it was Aaron who walked in with Roy. A minute later, Raymond followed, bearing a return message for her.
Anna, Fletcher wrote at the bottom of her own note to him, I have to work late tonight and again tomorrow installing trim. Perhaps I can see you on Saturday? —Fletcher.
Her eyes stung as she reread the note. Fletcher had told her how eager he was to complete the remaining trim for their first customer, so she understood why he needed to work late, but she was disappointed his message didn’t contain so much as a jot of endearment or tittle of appreciation for the invitation. She supposed he could have simply been in a rush when he replied, but again she wondered if he was displeased with her. Or could it be he was tiring of eating at Naomi’s with Anna’s entire family?
Not knowing what to think, Anna penned a simple response under Fletcher’s signature: I’ll be doing housework and gardening, so I should be home if you stop by on Saturday. There wasn’t room left on the page for her full name, so she merely scrawled her first initial.
There, she thought. That doesn’t sound the least bit cloying, so he shouldn’t feel obligated to visit. But deep down,
she hoped by Saturday afternoon Fletcher would be as eager to see her as she was to see him.
* * *
Fletcher couldn’t shake his apprehension that any second now, Anna would recall whatever it was that had caused her to write the note on the day of her accident. He felt as if his temples were being compressed by a vise, and his persistent nausea was exacerbated by the messages Raymond delivered. The first one, which read, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you, was reminiscent of her preaccident note, I have a serious concern regarding A. that I must discuss privately with you. The chilly tone of her second inscription further heightened his jitters.
He was actually relieved to have a valid excuse for turning down her supper invitation: the trim had finally been delivered for the first project and he wanted to hang it as soon as possible. Aaron wouldn’t release him from the second customer’s site during the day, claiming the trim could wait another week. As a matter of providing good service, however, Fletcher assured the first customer he’d hang the trim after hours, completing it by Friday evening.
By Saturday morning, however, Fletcher was so sleep-deprived, miserable and beside himself with agitation, he could hardly wait to talk to Anna about the topic he’d been dreading for so long. As devastating as he anticipated their discussion would be, he knew it was better to face the truth than to suffer the agony of waiting for the issue to come to light.
Bleary-eyed, he whacked his thumb with his hammer, a carelessness even Roy hadn’t demonstrated after his first month on the job.
“Ouch!” he yelled and flung the hammer to the floor.
“You need ice?” Raymond asked.
“I need air,” Fletcher responded, heading out the door.
In the parking lot, he paced in circles, trying to shake off the pain. When it didn’t subside, he took a short jaunt to the corner store to purchase three cups of coffee and what passed for glazed doughnuts in the Englisch community. Upon returning, he crossed paths with Aaron, who had just arrived to work and was hitching his horse.
“Where have you been?” Aaron asked.
Fletcher held up the tray of coffee to indicate his response. “Where have you been?” he asked in return.
“Not that I have to answer to you, but I was assessing another project,” Aaron said. “I told you once before, if you’re going to change your schedule, you need to let me know. You shouldn’t leave Roy and Raymond unsupervised at the work site.”
“I didn’t change my schedule,” Fletcher explained, thrown off by Aaron’s tone. “I was gone all of five minutes.”
“Don’t let it happen again,” Aaron warned before helping himself to a cup of coffee from the tray and strutting away.
Fletcher kicked at the dirt. The throbbing in his thumb was nothing compared to the pounding in his head. Please Gott, give me grace, he prayed. The grace to deal with Aaron’s attitude and the grace to accept whatever Anna has to say this afternoon.
His morning progressed without further injury and Fletcher was pleasantly surprised when Isaiah arrived midmorning and took him aside to thank him for finishing the trim at the other customer’s site. After his shift ended, Fletcher stopped at home to change his shirt before traveling to Anna’s house. The closer he drew, the drier his mouth grew and by the time he pulled into the yard, he felt as if his tongue were made of wool.
“Fletcher!” Evan beckoned from behind a tree near where Fletcher hitched his horse. “Don’t tell Anna you saw me—we’re playing hide-and-seek.”
“Too late, Evan,” Anna said, creeping up from behind and tagging him on the shoulder. “You’re it!”
“Aww, alright,” Evan moaned. “Fletcher can play, too.”
“Neh, Fletcher and I are going to take a walk to the creek, aren’t we, Fletcher?”
“Jah,” was all he could say.
Before ambling away, Anna instructed Evan, “After you find Eli, I’d like both of you to take that basket of laundry inside the house and wash your hands for dinner. Then ask your mamm if there’s anything you can do to help her.”
As she and Fletcher traipsed down the hilly field, they chatted about the spring birds they spotted, Fletcher’s new project at work and Isaiah’s visit to the site. Fletcher assumed Anna was stalling until they arrived at the creek before discussing her note, and with each step he felt as if he wore cinder blocks strapped to his feet.
When they reached the embankment, he viewed the rushing water and remembered a saying his sister Leah often quoted, “If the river had no rocks, it would not have a song.”
“What?” Anna questioned.
Fletcher didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud. “Oh, that’s a proverb my sister often says. I think it means you can’t have something beautiful without also having some rocky, difficult patches.”
“That’s true,” Anna said, thoughtfully furrowing her brow.
Unable to endure the suspense any longer, Fletcher blurted out, “You mentioned there was something you wanted to speak with me about. What is it?”
Anna shuffled backward. “Let’s sit,” she said and they positioned themselves next to each other on a large boulder overlooking the water. “It’s...it’s uncomfortable to discuss this.”
Fletcher licked his lips and forged ahead. “Whatever it is, it’s better that we’re open with each other about it.”
“I guess I...I was disappointed by your reaction the other night when I told you my memory had begun to return. I thought you would have been happier,” Anna confessed. “I thought you would have been thrilled, actually. When you weren’t, I wondered why not. I wondered if I’d done something to upset you.”
Fletcher closed his eyes as he absorbed the realization that Anna still didn’t recall writing her original note. For a split second, he considered not telling her about his concern, but he knew he’d only be prolonging the inevitable. Besides, it had become too big of a burden for him to bear even a second longer.
“You’re right, Anna. I probably didn’t seem as excited as I should have been,” he intoned. “That’s because there’s something about the past I’ve wanted to discuss with you, but I couldn’t because Dr. Donovan warned us it would be detrimental to your health if you became too upset or if you felt too pressured to recall your memories before your brain had a chance to heal. But it’s been weighing heavily on my mind and I can’t keep it to myself any longer, especially since it affects our wedding.”
Anna gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth before asking, “What is it?”
“It’s this,” he said, removing the slip of paper from his coat and shoving it into her hand.
She unfolded the note and read it aloud. “‘Fletcher, I have a serious concern regarding A. that I must discuss privately with you before the wedding preparations go any further. Please visit me tonight after work. —Anna.’”
Then she read it again to herself. Finally, she said, “It’s sloppier than usual, but it’s definitely my handwriting. When did I give you this?”
“You sent it with Raymond the morning of your accident.”
“Really? I’m sorry, but I have no recollection of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“I believe the A. stands for Aaron.”
“Aaron? What does he have to do with our wedding preparations? He hasn’t lifted a finger to help as far as I can tell, has he?”
“Neh.” Fletcher grimaced. It was clear he was going to have to spell it out for Anna and his stomach lurched as he formed the words. “I believe you meant... You meant you had second thoughts about how you felt about him, so you had second thoughts about marrying me.”
Anna hooted, “That’s absurd!” She leaped up and twirled to face him with her hands on her hips. “How could you believe such a thing, especially after all the conversations we’ve had?”
“I don’t want to believe it, but it’s possible something happened immediat
ely before the accident that caused you to change your mind about how you felt about Aaron and you just can’t remember it.”
“I might not remember all of what happened in the past six months, but I remember how I felt ever since breaking up with Aaron,” Anna insisted, smacking the back of one hand against the palm of the other. “My feelings haven’t changed! My preferences haven’t changed. It’s like... It’s like lima beans. I didn’t like them before my accident and I still don’t like them after my accident. I tolerate them because it’s rude not to when they’re served as part of my family’s meal, but do I suddenly like them? Have I changed my mind about loving them? Neh, never.”
Put in those terms, Fletcher’s worries about Aaron suddenly seemed absolutely ridiculous and he felt like the biggest dummkopf who ever lived. Yet he still couldn’t quite dismiss Anna’s note.
* * *
“Then how do you explain what you meant by having ‘a serious concern regarding A.’?” Fletcher pressed.
Anna sat down beside him again. “Well, I could have meant any number of things,” she said, counting on her fingers. “A. could stand for Amos, as in Bishop Amos. Or maybe it was short for April? Perhaps I wanted to change the date from April to March. Or possibly it stood for attendance—the list of people invited. Could I have meant arrangements? Naomi has been fretting over where the kinner will sleep. Perhaps I thought—”
“Okay, okay, you can stop now!” Fletcher laughed, holding up his hands. A blush crept over his face as he looked into her eyes. “I clearly let my imagination get the best of me. I don’t know what to say except I’m very sorry.”
Anna understood: given his history with Joyce, it wasn’t any wonder he’d jumped to the wrong conclusions about the context of her note. “You’re forgiven,” she promised. “I’m just relieved I didn’t do anything at the party to offend you.”
In response, Fletcher slid his fingers between Anna’s as if into a glove, sending a tingle up her arm and dispelling her concern that he wasn’t a physically affectionate person.
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