“Then explain to me. What is the whole purpose of this group?”
CHAPTER SIX
Lizzie started to speak and stopped only when Leora raised her hand. As she did, she began preparing the chicken for roasting. “Mamm, I can answer. Daed, our order isn’t Old Order anymore. Over the last few, what, decades, the elders have realized that and amended our Ordnung accordingly. Economic realities mean that married couples both work. Whether it’s from home or outside the home, either the husband or wife has employment that enables them to bring needed earnings into the household so they can provide for the needs of their families. You saw that yourself.”
“Yes, I saw that.”
“When you had your accident, you weren’t able to earn money because you couldn’t do carpentry. Mamm went back to work and I continued to work. Your business has been kept going because other carpenters here offered their time and talent to meet your orders. If none of that had happened, where would we be today?” Leora allowed her daed to think about that for a few seconds, then continued. “Mamm has a skill and she wants to help us out. She knew that you needed to keep paying that bank loan or lose your equipment. That is what we talk about in our meetings. How we can continue to honor Gott, follow our Ordnung and still manage to adjust to today’s realities.”
Wayne felt a crushing weight of guilt smack into his chest and gut. “Ja. I understand. We would have lost everything. I still struggle with my beliefs and my past. I’ll go to the meeting.” He walked quietly out of the kitchen.
Lizzie and Leora looked at each other, twin expressions on their faces. Their eyes were wide and their mouths had fallen open. “Daughter, what just happened?”
Leora shrugged in confusion, shaking her head. “Mamm, I don’t know! He was trying to give you a warning about working again. When I told him that our meetings are held in accordance with our Ordnung, he knew he couldn’t say anything against the group.” She chanced a quick look out the window. Wayne had just entered his shop. “I think he is struggling. I don’t know much about his childhood. Can you share with me later on?”
“I will, what I know. He has never been open about discussing that part of his life. After supper, and after I prepare the doughs for the bread and biscuits, we’ll go for a walk, you and I. You and Vernon have no plans?”
“Not tonight. He and his daed are working on a rush order and the customer wants it tomorrow.”
“Like your daed, I hope he gets back up to full speed soon. This is so hard on so many. Let’s get supper ready.” With that, she began peeling the potatoes and preparing the two vegetables she had planned.
Leora began working on their dessert, making the crumble for the apple crisp her mamm had planned. Preparing the fresh apples, she added sugar and cinnamon to the sauce pan, poured in water and began boiling the peeled Granny Smith apples. After they had boiled to the tenderness she wanted, she poured the mixture of apples and sauce into the baking dish, then topped it off with the crumble and set that into the oven. “We have enough vanilla ice cream, right?”
“Ja, unless anyone ate it all. I just bought it the other day.” Lizzie pulled the chicken out of the oven and set the biscuits inside. She pulled them out as Wayne returned to the warm kitchen. “Husband, it is hot in here. Why don’t we sit on the back porch tonight and eat?”
“You mean buffet style?”
“Ja. I’m sure it’s no hotter outside than it is inside. And the change of view will do us all good.”
Wayne shrugged. “That’s fine with me.” He helped carry the dishes out, setting them on the small picnic table he had made years before.
The next day went smoothly, with Lizzie and Leora leaving the house with no resistance from Wayne. He had planned that out, however, busying himself with a task he had saved for that day. “I will see you this afternoon! Have a gutt day!”
Leora and Lizzie waved at him from the buggy. While they were in the quilt shop, they were unaware that, an hour after the shop opened, Wayne had arrived at the small diner across the street. There, he occupied a table, drinking coffee and eating slice after slice of pie. As he ate and drank, he watched the entrance and windows of the quilt shop. He was able to see into the store, watching Lizzie in particular.
In the shop, Lizzie moved back and forth from displays and cabinets to the cash register, where she rang up sales. She would disappear to the back of the store, coming back to the front laden down with arms full of folded quilts.
Wayne remembered what Lizzie had said—that they were clearing out older merchandise to make room for new quilts. As he saw tourists and English people going into the shop, he frowned. He didn’t want his Lizzie to be influenced by their practices or beliefs. Somehow, I have to make it to where she stays at home, working only from home. But that will have to wait, sadly, until I am fully recovered and can work without help. Shortly before lunch, Wayne left, going back home. Lizzie and Leora never knew that he had been stalking Lizzie.
When Lizzie hurried into the house, she saw evidence that Wayne had been there all day long. Coffee cups and dishes sat in the sink, rinsed but not washed and dried. Looking out the kitchen window, she saw his shop door open, which told her he was at work inside. She hurried to prepare the dough for the bread and biscuits she was making for the next day’s post-meeting lunch. After the biscuits had been formed and placed on baking sheets, she began working on a light supper, using ingredients she had used earlier in the week. Setting a formed meatloaf in the oven, she checked the bread dough and punched it back down, allowing it time for its second rising.
Leora came in and washed the dishes already in the sink. Once that was done, she worked on the potatoes and salad for supper. “Cookies for dessert?”
“Ja, I think so. It’s hot and I don’t want to eat too heavily. Another walk tonight after I bake?” Their walk the night before had been shortened by Wayne’s demand that they be back before it got dark.
“Ja, that’s fine. Until Vernon comes for me.”
After supper, Lizzie and Leora walked out to the creek, speaking quietly. “What I remember, daughter, is that his mamm left his daed after being put through years of abuse. We don’t know where she is or if she’s even alive. She never came back.”
“How did you learn she had been abused?”
“His nightmares. They don’t happen as often as they used to, but he still does get them every month or two.”
“Mamm, it sounds like he has some condition. ‘Traumatic syndrome’ or something. I’m not sure what it is.”
“You mean, a mental condition? Are you sure?”
“I don’t know and we need to get back before long. What I do know is that, when someone experiences something traumatic, it affects their emotions and sometimes their mental state. I’m thinking that’s why daed is how he is. I’ll go to the library next week and see what I can learn.”
“Okay, denki. We had better get back. I need to cut the bread and place the biscuits in a basket for tomorrow.”
“And we’d better pray that daed hasn’t gotten any of it.”
“That’s why I had you make apple crisp. He loves your apple crisp.” Lizzie hurried, not wanting to be late—or anger Wayne.
“I’ll help with the bread before Vernon gets there.” As it turned out, Leora had only a few minutes to help Lizzie prepare their contribution to the next day’s lunch. Vernon got to the house as she was helping Lizzie to put the sliced bread into an airtight container.
Wayne answered the front door. “Ach, come on in! Before Leora comes out, can you tell me what Tuesday night’s meeting will be about?”
Vernon was surprised. Looking closely at Wayne, he shrugged. “Truthfully, I don’t know. Are you going?
“Ja, Leora finally convinced me to try one meeting. She knows how busy I am, even with help in the shop.”
Vernon smiled. “We will be happy to have you. And rest assured. Everything we discuss is in accordance with the Ordnung. The elders make sure of that.”
&nbs
p; “Gutt, gutt. So, you talk about women and working outside the home, ja?”
“That’s only a small part of it. We also discuss how women in our community can become true partners with their husbands, to help their families thrive.”
Wayne nodded. It all sounds good. But we will see.
***
On Tuesday evening, Lizzie, Wayne and Leora drove their buggy to the King home, where the peer group was meeting. They sat in one large group in the living room, with the men sitting on one side and the women on the opposite side. After a silent prayer, the group got to work.
Standing, Eli Yoder addressed the attendees. “Tonight, we will talk about how the Ordnung has led to families believing that wives should not work outside the home, even when economic times are rough for everyone. Even though our economy has improved, some of our families are still feeling the effects of the Great Recession, making it difficult for them to earn enough money to pay for their bills and cover note payments. This hasn’t been made very easy by the belief that wives should either not work at all or that they should only work from home, as bakers or quilters. I have some statistics here that Linda is passing out, showing that families where the wife works either from the home or away from the home do better. Their relationships are more supportive. The kinder thrive. But I have to caution everyone that this only works when couples agree to do this from the viewpoint that the wife is a helpmate to her husband.” Eli opened his mouth to keep speaking.
Wayne raised his hand. “Eli, does this make the wife an equal partner with her husband?”
“Ja, it does. When couples begin to see each other as equals, they are able to accept the added responsibilities.” Eli wasn’t aware of the internal storm that his words had just stirred up in Wayne.
Deacon King spoke up. “Our husbands here are supposed to honor and love their wives and wives are to respect their husbands. When the wives work outside the home, they are still expected to contribute to the financial support of their family.”
“So their earnings are to go into the family account?” Wayne wanted to be sure he understood all of this. “What about if the couple decides, say, that the wife can work from home?”
Lizzie, hearing this, groaned inwardly.
“Wayne, that’s for individual couples to discuss and agree upon.”
“I understand, deacon. But I still struggle with Lizzie working in The Quilt Place. The way I grew up, wives stayed at home. If they worked at all, they worked from home. I can handle that.”
Eli intervened. “Wayne, do you see Lizzie as your equal?”
This question stopped Wayne cold. He realized just how much Lizzie had helped after his accident. But now that he was nearly back to normal, he wanted her to take a back seat again. His brow furrowed as he thought. “I. . . Eli, I know that she helped our family, along with Leora and so many of you, after my accident. But that wasn’t the way I was raised.”
“Okay. Do you think you can get to that point, seeing Lizzie as your equal in life and in your marriage?”
Wayne sighed gustily. He was uncomfortable. Changing his position, he tried to come up with an honest answer. “Ja. . . nee. Honestly, I’m not sure. She does a wunderbaar job in our home. Our kinder are strong, giving adults. They are capable and I give a lot of that credit to her. But. . .”
From that point, the meeting centered on how peer counselors could help struggling couples and families address sexism as it was expressed in family relationships.
Eli and Deacon King took Wayne aside and tried to help him solidify his position regarding Lizzie’s role in their marriage. “Can you see yourself accepting that she is an equal to you?”
As Wayne heard those words, he remembered the afternoon he had realized his mamm had left. As he tried to think of Lizzie being his equal in her marriage, he saw the dark, silent and cold kitchen once again and his heart started pounding. His heart pounding soon became so intrusive that he lost his breath. Gripping his throat, Wayne staggered back. Shaking his head, he stumbled to the back door and outside. Under the large, spreading oak in the back yard, he rested his good hand against the rough bark, his fingers scraping down the bark with no regard for cutting himself. Forcing the thoughts out of his head, he dragged in one noisy breath then another. Soon, he was able to pull in slow, but raspy breaths. As he did so, he realized he was feeling light-headed and nauseated. He collapsed onto the grass just under the tree and pushed his head between his knees.
Deacon King found him this was several minutes later. “Wayne? Are you all right?”
“I’m getting there.” Wayne found he needed to limit his words or risk losing his supper. He swallowed convulsively, forcing his stomach back down.
“I’m getting you a glass of water. I’ll be right back.” The deacon ran back into the house and was back quickly with the promised water. “Here.” He forced the glass into Wayne’s shaky hand.
Wayne took a small sip and closed his eyes, praying he wouldn’t embarrass himself. As the water promised to stay down, he took a few more sips, then wiped his sweaty face with his shirt sleeves. “Whew. I didn’t expect that reaction in there.”
“What? You mean when we asked about Lizzie and being an equal. . . sorry, I’m sorry!”
Wayne had thrust his hand up, forcing the deacon to stop speaking. “Hannes, you know something of my childhood. My mamm left us when I was barely in my teens. That changed my life and that of my brothers and sisters.”
“Wayne, I see now that it’s difficult for you. I am going to suggest something and I would hope that you won’t get even more upset.”
“What?”
“Wayne, it’s clear. . . that your childhood has. . . marked you. I ask you to please consider getting counseling. I mean therapeutic counseling. Being abandoned as you were was traumatic. And getting over it is not like getting over a rough case of the flu.”
Wayne started to shake his head.
Seeing Wayne’s nonverbal reaction, the deacon went on. “Wayne. The strength of your reaction in my house tells me that you still feel very strongly about a wife’s proper role in the marriage relationship. And I am rightfully concerned about what that might cause you to do about that with Lizzie. I am going to the other elders and discussing today’s events with them. Remember, our edict of several months ago still stands.” Rising, he walked back into the house and rejoined the meeting.
Wayne sat outside for several minutes more, just trying to get over his upset and the new surprise that the deacon had just delivered. Squeezing his eyes shut, he contemplated the choices he had. Bare his soul to an English counselor. . . or risk the ban. Growling low under his breath, Wayne shook his head, realizing the nausea was now gone. Swigging the water back, he rose and walked into the house, determined to hide his true feelings.
Lizzie saw Wayne come back into the kitchen. Seeing the hardness in his normally gentle, chocolate-brown eyes, she stopped her rush toward him. “Wayne? Are you okay?”
“Ja.” He sat down with the men and listened, keeping his emotions under strict control. He was careful to allow only neutral expressions to cross his face as the men discussed equality for their wives, the Ordnung and sex discrimination.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Over the next several weeks, Wayne continued exercising strong control over his reactions and emotions. He didn’t want Lizzie, Leora or any of the elders seeing what was going on his mind. Because the memories and insidious whispers had returned full-force and he was unable to stop them—or, he was unwilling to make them stop. Wayne had also returned to monitoring Lizzie’s comings and goings, timing her when she left the house and came back. He had even begun to think about keeping track of the money she had in her wallet, just to make sure she wasn’t stashing funds without letting him know.
Lizzie, meanwhile, was almost unaware of the lengths to which Wayne had begun to go as he tracked her whereabouts. She didn’t know that, on Saturdays, he trailed her and Leora to the shop, sitting in the diner across the stre
et, just watching her. Nor was she aware that he was monitoring her spending. But she was aware that his attitude had changed. He was harder. She wasn’t able to feel the softer, loving side of his nature anymore. One day, as she was showing various quilts to an English tourist, she got a creepy feeling, like cold fingers brushing down the back of her neck. When she got that feeling at home, she began to wonder, looking around for Wayne.
***
The situation finally came to a frightening head one day when Wayne blocked Lizzie’s and Leora’s path out of the house as they tried to leave for the shop. “What are you going to do at work? After work?”
Lizzie froze, feeling her entire body slowing down and turning to sludge. Her voice refused to work at first. “W. . . Wayne, we’re going to work! So we can earn money for the bills! Then, come home, fix supper and get things done here! Leora, let’s go.” Coming back into her body, Lizzie grabbed Leora’s arm and turned her physically so they could run headlong out the back door.
His point made, Wayne stood sentry at the front door, just watching them drive fast out of the yard. His eyes mirrored his torture as the memories taunted him. Then. . .
“Wayne, what did you just do? You accused your own wife of plotting to hurt you and leave you when, in actuality, she has been working hard to keep your family and home from being taken away by the bank. You owe her a huge apology. She is plotting nothing!”
Hearing these soft words from Gott, Wayne fell to his knees, sobbing hard. He knew he had messed up in a major way.
On the way to work, Lizzie gave the reins to Leora so she could get her sobbing and tears back under control. “I’m sorry daughter.”
“Mamm, if you need to, you and I can go stay with the Yoders. Jethro offered, just in case.”
Lizzie was quiet for a few minutes, just thinking things through. Her silence also allowed her to get her emotions back under control. Sighing, she nodded. “Ja. Let us see how he is tonight. If we need to, please let Naomi know so she can tell Jethro. We need to pack a few necessities, just in case.”
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