by Amy Clipston
Mamm shook her head. “I can’t believe I have to do this for you. It’s just like when Jason was trying so desperately to talk to Veronica, and she wanted me to shoo him away.”
Rachel took a deep breath. “Please.”
Mamm shook a finger at her as if she were a petulant child. “I’ll tell him you’re not feeling well, but you’re not going to your room. You’re going to sit down and explain everything to me when I get off the phone with him.”
“All right.” Rachel’s voice trembled. She stood in the doorway as Mamm lifted the receiver to her ear.
“I’m sorry, Mike,” Mamm said. “Rachel isn’t feeling well. Could I give her a message for you?” She listened for a moment. “I will tell her. How’s your dat doing today? Oh, gut. I’m glad he’s feeling better. I will pass the message along to Rachel. Good-bye.”
She hung up and faced Rachel, a frown turning down the corners of her mouth. “Mike was very disappointed you weren’t able to speak with him. He said he was sorry he missed you at the shop.”
Rachel gave a derisive snort while crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that right?”
“Rachel,” Mamm said, shaking her head. “I don’t understand what’s going on. You said you loved him last Saturday night when he and his family came over for supper. What happened between you two?”
Rachel pointed toward the house. “Could we please go inside and discuss this over a cup of tea?”
Mamm nodded. “Of course.”
Twenty minutes later, Rachel cradled a warm cup of tea in her hands as she finished explaining what had happened at the shop. Mamm sipped her tea and empathy glimmered in her blue eyes as she listened.
“He betrayed me the same way David did,” Rachel said, her voice shaky with fresh emotion. “I thought Mike was different. I thought the friendship he and I were developing was stronger than what David and I had, but I was completely wrong.” She sniffed and stared at the tea rippling in her cup like waves in a tiny lake. “I’ve spent all these weeks cultivating our friendship. I’ve sent meals over to him, and I’ve listened when he needed an ear. But in the end, all I’ve gained is another hole in my heart.”
“Ach, mei liewe.” Mamm reached across the table and rubbed Rachel’s hand. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You have a loving spirit. You’ve helped his family, and that’s what we’re called to do.”
Rachel blotted her teary eyes with a tissue from her pocket. “I know it’s what we’re called to do, but why does it hurt so much?”
“I still believe he loves you.”
“What?” Rachel’s eyes snapped to Mamm’s.
“He was truly disappointed when you wouldn’t come to the phone,” Mamm said. “He told me his cousin Sam said you’d stopped by the shop, and he was sorry he didn’t get to see you. He wanted to apologize for missing you, and he wanted to apologize for not getting to talk to you last night.”
Rachel’s thoughts turned to Raymond. “How is his dat?”
“He said his dat is still weak, but he’s in better spirits.”
“Oh, gut.” Rachel cleared her throat while considering Mike’s sudden change in behavior. “I think I misread Mike. I believe he only wants to be my freind. I’m going to still be the best teacher I can to John, but I need to distance myself from the family. Malinda warned me not to get too close, and I should’ve listened to her from the beginning.” She wiped away another wayward tear. “I’ll be all right. I just can’t trust myself. I get too attached and then I wind up hurt.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Mamm repeated while patting her hand again. “I think you need to talk to him and tell him how you’re feeling. Don’t give up on him so easily.”
Rachel shook her head. “I can’t put myself through any more pain. I need to back away, at least for a little while.”
Mamm nodded. “Fine. Do what feels right, but don’t take your frustration out on John. He’s innocent in all of this.”
Rachel gaped. “I would never do that. He’s my student.”
“Gut,” Mamm said before drinking more of her tea.
As Rachel sipped her own tea, the warm liquid seemed a weak balm for her aching soul. She longed to find comfort to wash away the pain that tore at her heart.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON RACHEL PACED IN THE KITCHEN. Although she’d finished washing the lunch dishes, her mind continued to whirl with images of Mike and the pretty redhead at the shop. Her heart ached with pain over losing Mike, and she needed something to take her mind off him. She remembered seeing a stack of devotional books on her mother’s dresser when she put clean laundry in her parents’ bedroom the other day. She longed to push away the painful thoughts of Mike and his beautiful girlfriend. Maybe a good book would help.
Mamm had gone with Emily to the harness shop to help with the accounting books and she didn’t want to bother her. She was sure Mamm wouldn’t mind if she looked at the books. Rachel walked into her parents’ bedroom next to the family room. She found the stack of books still on Mamm’s dresser and sifted through them in search of one that would somehow ease her heartache. None of the books piqued her interest, however, and she sank down onto the corner of her parents’ bed and covered her face with her hands.
What could she do to keep her thoughts away from Mike? What could possibly take away the sadness that had drowned her the moment she saw Mike talking to that maedel?
She dropped her hands in her lap and looked around. Her eyes widened when she saw Mamm’s hope chest sitting under the window at the far side of the room. She suddenly remembered that the hope chest had been missing from the attic when she was up there looking for the basket. She wondered why Mamm had moved the hope chest downstairs.
This was the same chest where Veronica had found their grandmother’s raspberry pie recipe. When had it been moved? Dat must have carried it down while Rachel was at school. She wondered if there were any books in the hope chest that could at least serve as a balm to her despair.
Rachel crossed the room and tried to lift the lid, but it was locked. She looked on Mamm’s dresser and found a key sitting in a small glass bowl. She slipped it into the lock, turned it, and the lock clicked open.
Rachel pushed up the lid and rummaged through the chest. She lifted a quilt and saw a cross-stitch pattern in a loop at the bottom of the hope chest. The design had a colorful butterfly bathed in purple, blue, and pink, with words below.
Happiness is like a butterfly:
The more you chase it, the more it will elude you,
but if you turn your attention to other things,
it will come and sit quietly on your shoulder.
Rachel studied the words, taking in their meaning, and tears flooded her eyes. She flipped over the cross-stitch and found a note written in neat cursive writing:
Mattie, May this warm your new home and your heart.
All my love,
Mamm
Rachel blinked as tears streamed down her cheek. Her grandmother had made this for her mother. Was it when Mamm first married Dat?
She closed the hope chest lid and then hugged the cross-stitch to her chest as she sat down on top of the hope chest.
“Rachel!” Mamm asked. “What are you doing?”
Rachel stood and spun. Mamm was standing in the doorway and studying her intently.
“I finished all the chores, and I thought I might find a book to read that would help me feel better. I looked through your books on your dresser and didn’t find one, so then I thought there might be one in your hope chest.” She held up the cross-stitch. “I didn’t find a book, but I found this.”
Mamm cupped her hand to her mouth. “I haven’t seen that in years. It used to hang over by the back door.”
“It’s beautiful.” Rachel studied the words again, letting them trickle through her mind. “Mammi made this for you?”
“Ya. She gave it to me when your dat and I were first married.” Mamm walked over to her and ran her finger over the cross-stitch. “She said she was in
a fabric store, and when she saw the pattern, she thought of me.”
“It’s schee,” Rachel said. And it’s just what I need right now. Was this Mammi’s way of reaching out to her? Was Mammi trying to tell Rachel everything would be okay and happiness would eventually find its way back into her life? “May I keep it?”
“Ya, of course.” Mamm gave her a sad smile. “How are you doing?”
Rachel shrugged. “I’ll be okay.” She looked down at the hope chest and then back up at Mamm. “When did you move the hope chest from the attic to here?”
Mamm shrugged. “I guess it was a couple of months ago.”
“Why did you move it?”
Mamm sat on the edge of her bed and faced Rachel. “I felt like I needed to have it closer to me. Where did you find the key?”
Rachel pointed to the dresser. “It was over there in the glass bowl.”
Mamm got up, locked the hope chest, and then slipped the key into the pocket of her apron. “Let me know before you go into it again.”
“Oh.” Rachel studied her mamm’s expression, wondering if she’d upset her. “Okay. I will.”
“I’m going to start supper soon.” Mamm walked toward the doorway.
“I’ll come with you.” Rachel followed her out to the kitchen and wondered why Mamm wanted to keep the hope chest locked. Clearly she hadn’t wanted Rachel to go through her things, but was there something else in it she didn’t want anyone to find?
LATER THAT NIGHT, RACHEL PLACED THE CROSS-STITCH ON her dresser. After climbing into bed, she stared at the ceiling and pondered the quote on the cross-stitch. Her thoughts turned to her grandmother, and tears flooded her eyes. She longed to talk to Mammi again. She missed the days when she and her sisters would gather around Mammi’s kitchen table to eat grilled cheese sandwiches, drink chocolate milk, and talk. If only she could go to Mammi’s house now and tell her about Mike. What advice would Mammi give her?
Rachel rolled to her side and closed her eyes. With tears and anguish constricting her throat, she concentrated on the quote from the cross-stitch and fell asleep.
“RACHEL.” MALINDA WHISPERED HER NAME AS THE STUDENTS took turns reading aloud at their desks Monday afternoon. “This note is for you.” She pointed toward the stack of journals on her desk.
“Oh.” Rachel moved to the desk. “I’ll take over the journals, and you handle the reading assignment.”
“All right.” Malinda gave her a questioning expression as she handed her a journal.
Glancing down, Rachel immediately recognized the slanted cursive. The note was from Mike. Her stomach clenched as she lowered herself into the desk chair and took in the note.
Dear Rachel,
I left a message with your mamm on Saturday, and I was hoping you’d call me back. I’m sorry I missed you at the shop. I didn’t realize you were looking for me. I would’ve met you out front if I’d known you were there.
I’m also sorry I didn’t get to talk to you Friday night. Mei dat was very ill, but I never meant to neglect you.
I’d like to make it up to you. Would you please come over for supper Friday night? I’ll cook. I promise we’ll have a gut time. We can sit on the porch and eat ice cream sundaes. Let me know if this sounds gut to you. I miss you.
Sincerely,
Mike
Rachel’s breath hitched as she studied the words “I miss you.” The note sounded so genuine. It was as if he’d written it from his heart. So then why was Mike having an intimate conversation with a pretty redhead when Rachel had seen him at the shop?
She closed her eyes and took deep breaths in through her nose. She couldn’t allow Mike to manipulate her any longer. She had to be strong. She had to be John’s teacher, not Mike’s close friend. It was time to be professional.
Rachel gripped her pen and wrote a response.
Mike,
Thank you for your note. I apologize for missing your call on Saturday. I wasn’t feeling well.
John had a gut day today. He’s improving his work on multiplication, and he’s starting to read at a higher level. I’ve told him to take his time while completing his math worksheets. I’m certain he’ll master the multiplication before school ends next month.
Thank you for the supper invitation. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to come Friday night. I have plans with my family.
I hope your dat is feeling better. I’m sorry he’s had such a tough time lately.
Sincerely,
Rachel
She closed the journal and nibbled on the end of her pen. Why was it so painful to turn down Mike’s invitation? She looked across the room to John, who was reading aloud from his primer. She’d felt guilty for not bringing a meal for his family today. Why did she allow herself to become so attached to John? Her chest ached when she thought of Mike, John, and Raymond sitting down to supper tonight and not having one of her meals.
Rachel knew it was silly to feel guilty when John had his family members to care for him. Maybe the pretty redhead would prepare a meal for them tonight. The thought caused her shoulders to tense, but she had to let it go. She had to concentrate on her students and not worry about the Lantz family.
But if Rachel’s feelings for Mike were wrong, then why was it so difficult for her to let go of them?
MIKE’S CHEST CONSTRICTED AS HE STUDIED RACHEL’S NOTE. He read it for the fourth time, taking in the cold and disconnected way she responded to his invitation to supper. She also hadn’t sent home a meal tonight, which was unusual. He didn’t expect the meals, but she had insisted on preparing them.
Mike was also surprised Rachel hadn’t returned his phone call from Saturday. Was she angry he didn’t spend more time with her on Friday? If so, then why hadn’t she accepted his apology? Rachel didn’t seem like the kind of maedel who would hold a grudge. They were taught to forgive at an early age, so then why hadn’t she forgiven him?
Questions and worry swirled through Mike’s mind. He’d thought he and Rachel had formed a close relationship. Where had the sweet Rachel gone? What had Mike done wrong?
“Was iss letz?” John asked, his little voice startling him from his thoughts.
“Nothing, nothing.” Mike forced a smile as he set the journal beside his dinner plate.
“Did Rachel write something about me in the journal?” John’s eyes were wide with concern.
“She didn’t write anything negative about you at all.” Mike lifted his piece of fried chicken. “The note was all positive today. You’re doing well with the lessons on multiplication.”
“Oh.” John studied Mike with suspicion. That boy never missed a beat.
“Eat your supper,” Janie instructed. Then she pushed a loose lock of her red hair behind her ear.
“Is Rachel coming for supper Friday night?” John asked with a mouthful of chicken.
“Please don’t talk with your mouth full, John. No, she said she has plans with her family.” Mike’s words were hollow and cold, much like his soul. “We’ll invite her again another time.”
“Why don’t we invite her for a picnic on Saturday?” John suggested, choosing another chicken thigh from the platter in the center of the table. “She seemed to like that, right?”
Mike paused to take a sip of water. From the tone of Rachel’s note, Mike assumed she would turn down any invitation he made. Deep within his soul, however, Mike hoped he’d misread the tone of Rachel’s note. Perhaps she’d had a bad day or she didn’t want to write anything personal in the school journal because Malinda might see it.
“I can take care of your dat on Saturday if that will help,” Janie offered while spooning some peas and carrots. “You can go on a picnic, and I’ll be here. I’ll see if Marie can come over, too, so we can continue working in the garden.”
“Danki, Janie,” John said. “Let’s invite Rachel for a picnic again. That was so fun. Maybe her schweschder can come and teach us how to skip stones. Maybe Onkel Tim can also come and we can fish. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Everything Mike had tried to avoid had come true. Things hadn’t worked out between Rachel and him, and now John was disappointed.
“I really want to go fishing,” John continued.
While John prattled on, Mike heard his father’s deep, chesty cough rattling from his bedroom. He looked at Janie, and her brow furrowed with concern.
“I had hoped the antibiotics were working,” Janie said softly. “The doctor said he gave him the strongest oral medication he could. If that cough continues, I’ll call him.”
“Danki.” Mike gave her a curt nod. He thought Dat would sound better by now. Why was the illness lingering?
“What are you talking about?” John glanced between Janie and Mike.
“The doctor gave your dat medication for his cough,” Janie explained. “He has what’s called an upper respiratory infection, which means it’s affecting how he breathes and gives him that cough. But the doctor will take care of him.”
“Oh.” John’s forehead crinkled with concern.
“You don’t need to worry, mei liewe,” Janie said, placing her hand on John’s slight shoulder. “I’ll make sure the doctor is doing everything he has to for your dat.”
John smiled up at Janie, and Mike’s stomach eased slightly. He could do enough worrying for both of them; he didn’t want John to worry too.
John spent the rest of supper talking about school and how much he enjoyed math. When they were finished eating, John climbed the stairs to take his bath. As Mike took dirty dishes to the counter, Janie started filling the sink with water.