Minding Molly

by Leslie Gould

  I turned back toward the house, but a swallow darting out of the open barn door caught my attention. It didn’t go far, landing on the bench of the wagon parked next to the barn. That was it! I’d fill the old wagon with flowers and herbs and haul the whole thing down to the pasture, to the market. The blooms and greens against the weathered boards would be sure to draw a crowd.

  First I needed to cut the snapdragons, sweet peas, and the first of the lavender. I grabbed two cutting knives and my leather gloves from the workbench and a stack of buckets from the corner of the shed and headed to the flower field.

  I’d only been working a few minutes when Mervin arrived. I pulled the second knife from my pocket and handed it to him without saying a word.

  He began working parallel to me, in the next row over. “Hannah said Leon’s pleased to be coming on the camping trip too.”

  I gave him a questioning look, unsure what his point was.

  “Last night. Down at the river.”

  I turned my head toward him. “You went to the party?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh.” So they’d all gone to a party without me. “Who else was there?” I regretted asking the question as soon as the words found their way out of my mouth.

  “Martin went.”

  “Did anyone go with Hannah?” I rubbed my chin with the back of my hand.

  “Like?” Mervin crossed his arms.

  “Never mind.” I bent back down to cut more stems. I doubted Leon had gone. He didn’t seem to have much fun at the party last weekend.

  “You can’t fool me,” Mervin said. “Or your Mamm.”

  I kept on cutting.

  Mervin’s voice grew louder. “I think she should know.”

  I continued cutting. “She will.”

  “Molly.” Mervin’s voice was sharp.

  I stood straight again, waving the handful of sweet peas toward the lavender. “Could we talk about this later? We have a market to open in an hour. And I want to load the wagon with herbs and flowers.”

  “We won’t talk about it,” he mumbled.

  He was right. I had no intention of talking with him later. I pointed toward the barn. “Help me load the wagon—then you can come back and cut more of these.”

  I grabbed the buckets and started walking, but Mervin caught up with me and took them from me. I marched on to the pasture to get Daisy and then hitched her to the wagon. As I led her to the loading dock, Mervin hauled the boxes of herbs and pots of geraniums out of the greenhouse. In no time we loaded the wagon with the table, buckets of flowers, the tarp, and poles.

  “Go finish the flowers.” I jumped up to the bench of the wagon.

  “Don’t you need help setting up the canopy?” I couldn’t tell what his expression was under his sunglasses, but I guessed it was dejected.

  “I’ll manage.” I had in all that time before we hired him—I certainly could now.

  “Are you going to tell your Mamm or should I?” Mervin crossed his arms.

  I ignored him as I urged Daisy forward. She didn’t move. I tried again. This time she took a step and then another, and the wagon finally began to move. I hoped Cate was right that the camping trip would all work out. It was hard to imagine how.

  Once I reached the pasture, I set up the canopy and table, greeting Joseph Koller across the way. When Nell arrived, she headed straight for his booth.

  “Nell,” I called out, motioning to the half of my table she usually used. “Over here.”

  “Hannah’s going to share your table today,” she answered.

  As Joseph beamed at Nell, it became clear she was going to share his booth.

  “Oh,” I said. I couldn’t help but smile, although I wished she’d told me sooner.

  I positioned the wagon exactly where I wanted it and then unhitched Daisy, and ran her back to the upper pasture. By the time I returned to the market, with the four dozen eggs I’d set aside to sell, the first of the tourists had begun to arrive, but it was another hour before Hannah showed up, long after several of the boxes of herbs and the pots of geraniums had sold from the wagon, along with all the eggs.

  “Late night?” I asked as Hannah slid her heavy box onto the table.

  She nodded, yawned, and then started taking pint jars of jam from her box. “My Dat and Leon and I were talking at breakfast. We’ll need to go to a place where there’s a horse camp.”

  “There’s one where we’re going. Across the lake from the regular campsites.”

  She smiled. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun. Horses and all.”

  I took my small notebook from my apron pocket. “I’ve come up with meal schedules, that sort of thing.”

  Hannah smiled. “That’s what I love about you. You enjoy the planning.”

  “Jah . . .” I could never understand why Hannah didn’t.

  “If it were left up to me, we’d have some sort of weird three-day potluck,” Hannah said.

  I wrinkled my nose. “That would be awful. Why would—”

  An Englisch woman gushed, “Oh, look at the sweet peas. They remind me of my grandma’s garden.” The woman had to be a grandmother herself, so that would have been ages ago. “I’ll take two bunches,” she said.

  Next she bought a couple jars of Hannah’s jam. More customers gathered around our table and the conversation ended.

  About an hour later, Hannah elbowed me. “Here he comes.” Her face brightened.

  Mervin walked toward us with a bucket of lavender in each hand.

  “Hello,” Hannah called out to him, followed by a broad smile that showed her dimples.

  “Oh, hi,” Mervin said to her, brushing by.

  “We were talking about the camping trip earlier,” Hannah said.

  “Oh?” Mervin set the buckets down.

  “About how much fun we’re going to have.” Hannah practically batted her lashes.

  “Jah,” Mervin said, his eyes falling on me. “I’m really looking forward to it.” He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and then turned back to the hill. “I’ll go cut more herbs.” He headed to the trail.

  We watched him for a long silent minute, until I said, “Hannah, can you watch my booth? I need to check on Mamm and Beatrice.”

  Before she could answer I hurried after Mervin. “Wait,” I called out to him as I struggled up the hill. “I need to talk to you.”

  He stopped.

  When I caught up, I took a moment to catch my breath and then said, “I’m glad Hannah told you about the trip—and that you’re coming along.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “The more the merrier,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  We walked along with Mervin just ahead of me on the trail. I took a couple of long steps, ending up at his side. “You didn’t say anything to my Mamm yet, did you, about Leon coming?”

  He stopped and turned. I bumped into him, my head in his chest. I stepped back quickly, losing my balance just a little.

  He caught my arm. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t want to stress her out any more than she already is.”

  “So you want to deceive her.”

  “I didn’t say that—I want to tell her when the time is right.”

  “Why did you ask Leon, then?”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “Hannah’s Dat suggested it. She didn’t tell you that?”

  He shook his head.

  “So you didn’t tell my Mamm anything?”

  “Actually . . . I did.”

  I groaned. “Did you tell her I invited him?”

  “I might have implied that,” he said.

  I groaned again.

  Mervin continued, “She called Ivan while I was still in the greenhouse.”

  I didn’t bother to groan a third time. I guess it wasn’t surprising that when Dat wasn’t there to rely on she’d rely on his son.

  “He decided to come over. ‘To address the situation.’”

  “Oh no.”

 
“Oh jah,” Mervin responded. “From hearing your Mamm’s side of the conversation, I think Ivan is actually pleased. If you’re interested in Leon, then you’re not interested in me. Right?”

  I kept my face as placid as I could.

  “And then Ivan can buy the farm—at a good price, of course.”

  Again, I didn’t respond. Mervin began marching across the lawn, veering to the right toward the herb garden. I fell back, letting him gain some distance. I’d check on Beatrice and then go back down to the market.

  As I reached the open back door, I was surprised to hear Mamm talking loudly. It wasn’t her way. “I just don’t understand, not after I made it clear I didn’t want her to court him—”

  I opened the screen door in a hurry, stepping inside.

  Ivan sat at the head of the table. “There she is,” he said. “Ask her yourself.”

  I scanned the room. Beatrice wasn’t in sight—thankfully.

  Mamm took a deep breath and then said, “Mervin told me—”

  I rarely interrupted my Mamm intentionally, but this time I couldn’t help myself. “Hannah’s Dat suggested Leon come along. To train the horses on the trail. I didn’t invite him.”

  Ivan crossed his arms, resting them atop his belly. “You expect us to believe that?”

  “I do.” My eyes met his, and then, to change the subject, I asked if he was staying for the noon meal.

  “Jah,” he answered.

  “And supper?”

  He shook his head, to my relief.

  “Ivan, wait for me here,” Mamm said, standing slowly. She stepped toward me, taking my elbow. “I want to talk with you.” She ushered me out the door and around the side of the house. “I believe you,” she said. “But I also believe you’re interested in Leon.”

  I didn’t answer. I used to think a person could help whom they fell in love with, but I didn’t anymore.

  “If I can’t figure out a way to keep the farm, I will sell it to Ivan,” she said. “But that’s not what I want to do.”

  “I know,” I whispered. I’d never felt shamed by either one of my parents—until now. I knew I was going against my mother’s wishes. Her disappointment weighed on me.

  “So go ahead and go on the camping trip. And remember, I trust you.”

  I nodded. “I’ve never done anything to give you a reason not to trust me,” I said. “And I don’t plan to.”

  “Then you have my blessing as far as the camping trip,” Mamm said. “But we still have some sorting out to do.”

  I nodded and then asked, “Where’s Beatrice?”

  “I think she’s in the basement,” she said.

  “I thought she’d be getting dinner ready.”

  “I said I would today.” Mamm turned toward the back door. “I guess I’d better get started.”

  My steps down the outside basement stairs fell heavy. I pushed open the door and squinted in the dim light.

  “Beatrice?”

  “In the storeroom.”

  She was holding one of the blue metal plates in her hand as I entered.

  “I already sorted through all of that,” I told her. “And aired out the sleeping bags and tent.”

  “Oh.” She put the plate back in the plastic box.

  “Jah, we just need to haul everything out. But not until Monday morning.”

  “Oh,” she said again.

  “Did you know Ivan is here?”

  “That’s why I came down here. I don’t know why Mamm called him.”

  I wrinkled my nose. She must have heard something.

  She didn’t say what though. Instead she said, “I heard Ben’s going on the camping trip too.”

  “Jah,” I said, realizing I hadn’t told her. I knew Cate had planned to ask him—I just didn’t know if he’d accepted. “Is that going to be all right?”

  She took a deep breath. “None of this feels all right. We don’t know what’s wrong with Mamm. You’re sneaking around. Mervin’s miserable. And Mamm’s upset all the time.” She looked straight at me. “I miss the way things used to be.”

  Sunday services were at the edge of our district at the Kemp farm. Leon came with Hannah’s family and sat beside Owen. Mamm didn’t leave my side the entire morning, except when Mervin approached me. He didn’t talk about anything important. Just the hot weather.

  Of course I watched Leon. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. At one point, as he held Tinker, all of Hannah’s little sisters gathered around him. As much as I appreciated Mervin, when he wasn’t being obtuse, I couldn’t understand why Hannah liked him over Leon. Not that I wasn’t thankful for Hannah’s choice, because there was a lot Leon could find attractive in her as a horsewoman, with a great family business. When Mamm, Beatrice, and I were leaving, Leon managed to get within a few feet of me. He tipped his hat and said, “Have a wonderful day, Miss Molly.”

  I slipped him a smile as Mamm linked her arm in mine and pulled me along.

  On the way home, she said, “I’m afraid I’ll regret letting you go on this camping trip. I don’t know what Owen was thinking, wanting to send Leon along.”

  That was my saving grace. That it was Owen’s idea. She felt if she said I couldn’t go now, she’d be insulting him.

  “It will all work out,” I said, but she didn’t respond.

  Instead of going to the singing that evening, I cooked for the camping trip—stew, creamed chicken, and bean and bacon soup, while four loaves of bread, a big pan of corn bread, and berry cobbler baked in our double oven. I had bologna we’d made last fall for sandwiches and frozen packages of bratwurst for lunches, plus quarts of kraut, green beans, beets, and peaches, and a burlap bag of potatoes to bake in the coals of the campfire.

  As I worked, my thoughts continually landed on Leon. I doubted he went to the singing either, which was also at the Kemp place. I wished he’d sneak over and ask me to go for a walk, but if Mamm found out it would only add to her stress. I’d be with Leon soon—although time seemed to be crawling along.

  I packed our nonperishable food in cardboard boxes and then washed out the ice chest, readying it for the next day. After all the meals were prepared and while the bread and cobbler cooled, I went upstairs to pack a few last things in my bag. Mamm’s light was off, but Beatrice’s wasn’t. I knocked on her door.

  “Come in,” she said.

  I found her sitting on her bed, her journal in her hands, no bag or clothes in sight.

  “Did you pack?”

  Startled, she looked around her room.

  “That’s what you came up to do, remember?” That had been hours ago.

  “And I will,” she said, closing her journal and standing.

  “You should do it now.”

  She gave me a scathing look. She was right—she was nineteen. It wasn’t my business when she packed. I headed to my room to finish the chore and meal charts and the rest of my packing.

  Monday morning, Mervin and I watered the flower fields and the herbs, while Beatrice was supposed to be fixing breakfast and filling the ice chest for the trip. When I hurried into the kitchen, along with Mervin, she was sitting at the table, a cup of tea in her hands, staring out the window.

  “Bea?” I choked on the single syllable. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, just taking a break.”

  Nothing was on the stove, not one pan.

  “What about breakfast?”

  “I’ll get to it,” she said.

  “Everyone’s going to be here in an hour. We need to hurry.”

  Mervin said he’d see us later, adding, “I think breakfast is probably on the table at my house.”

  I nodded and asked Beatrice where Mamm was as Mervin let himself out the back door.

  “She went outside.”

  “Let’s get moving,” I said, instructing Beatrice to fill the ice chests. “Put the milk in first, to keep it the coldest, along with the stew, sauce, and soup. Then put in the bologna.” I put three slices of bread under the broiler in the oven.
“Then go find Mamm. We’ll eat right away.”

  She moved as slow as molasses. I pulled eggs from the fridge and a frying pan from the cupboard. “Go find Mamm now,” I finally told Beatrice. “We can finish the ice chests after breakfast.”

  I started the eggs, then set the table and buttered the toast, turned the eggs, and had everything on the three plates as Mamm and Beatrice came through the back door.

  “Wash up,” I said. “Breakfast is ready.”

  We didn’t talk much through the quick meal. Finally, after she took her last bite, Mamm said, “I want you two to have a wonderful time. No fretting, you hear?”

  I nodded.

  Beatrice didn’t respond.

  “We will have a good time. And don’t you worry about us either,” I said. “We will be thinking about you and praying.”

  “Denki,” Mamm said. “God is in control—I certainly don’t expect to live forever.”

  “We don’t expect that either,” I said quickly, “but a few more years would be a blessing to us.” I’d meant what I said to sound humorous but it fell flat.

  “You’d better get busy,” Mamm said, “if you’re going to be ready on time.”

  “Jah.” I gave Beatrice a look. She turned away from me.

  “Beatrice,” Mamm said, “you need to be mindful of Molly.”

  My sister pushed back her chair and took her plate to the sink. I cleared the table in two swipes, and then packed the food, swept the floor, and made sandwiches for our lunch, including one for Mamm, in the time it took Bea to wash the dishes.

  Mamm sat at the table, finishing her tea, as we worked. When I lifted the first ice chest and headed to the back door, she said, “Molly, you’re more efficient than any machine.”

  I genuinely smiled, not in a prideful way but happy to know I was still appreciated by Mamm. I lugged the weight of all the food out to the lawn, managed to get the ice chest to the ground without landing it on my foot, and ran back for the second one. After stacking it atop the first ice chest, I headed to the basement by way of the backyard stairs, to haul the camping equipment up to the yard too, including our old folding lawn chairs. Love followed me back and forth, clearly hoping she was going with us.