by Leslie Gould
After that, everyone stayed silent—for the next hour. When we stopped to eat our sandwiches at a rest area, I walked away from the group—they could figure out lunch on their own—and pulled out my cell phone. When I was well out of hearing distance from the rest, I called our business phone. Of course no one answered. And I didn’t expect anyone to. I left a message saying we wondered how Mamm was and that we’d be home in two hours or so.
As I returned to the group, who had the ice chests out of the truck but not opened, my cell jingled. I pulled it from my apron pocket. It was Mamm—or at least our number. I turned away from the group and answered quickly.
It was Ivan. “Did you have a good time?”
“Jah,” I answered. He didn’t press me, although I knew my voice didn’t sound very convincing. “What are you doing in the greenhouse?”
“Just going through some paperwork.”
I could imagine. “How’s Mamm?”
“Resting.”
I bit my tongue to keep myself from pointing out I hadn’t asked what she was doing. “What did the tests show?”
“It’s not dementia.”
I sighed with relief.
“It’s a tumor.”
“Oh no.” My heart fell.
“But they don’t know if it’s benign or malignant. They need to do more tests for that.”
“When?”
“Monday.”
“Where?”
“Lancaster again. I’ll take her,” Ivan said. “I’ve already arranged it with your driver.”
“Denki,” I said, although I didn’t mean it. I felt more and more pushed away. “May Beatrice and I go too?”
“There’s no need.”
When I didn’t answer him, he added, “Anna will have to spend the night. It would only complicate it to have you girls around.”
“We can talk more when I get home,” I said, ready to end the call.
“There’s one more thing.”
My heart sank. “What?”
“She fell yesterday, on the walkway. Maybe because a stone had dislodged. Or perhaps she lost her balance.”
I gasped. “Is she all right?”
“Jah, just a little sore. We found an old cane in the attic. She’s using that.”
“Denki,” I answered.
As I hung up. I remembered Beatrice had told me I was a female version of Ivan, just last Christmas. I couldn’t think of a worse insult, but I was sure, especially after this trip, that she hadn’t changed her mind. Even though I felt pushed aside, I was thankful for his take-charge attitude. He was doing what he thought best for my Mamm.
Hannah and Mervin were standing by the horse trailer, away from the others. Leon and Owen had joined the rest of the group by the van and were chatting with Pete. After a minute Pete grabbed the ice chest and lugged it over to a picnic table. Cate followed with Robbie, but then she gave him to Ben and opened the box, taking the sandwiches out and then the carrots and celery. She sent Pete back to the van for something.
Robbie fell from Ben’s arms into Leon’s. Then he lunged toward me. I ignored him, knowing he’d just twist away if I came too close. He’d been playing tricks with me the entire trip.
I continued on to the van, hoping for a moment of peace, arriving as Pete pulled the chips from a box in the back. As I climbed through the open side door, I overheard Mervin saying to Hannah, “But I love you. I always have.”
Hannah was clearly upset. “What about Molly?”
“I was a fool,” he said. “I’ve always loved you.”
“I don’t believe you.” She turned toward the others. I followed her gaze, sure it had landed on Leon, who had Robbie on his shoulders now. The little boy squealed in delight.
“Hannah, don’t hold my stupidity against me,” Mervin begged.
My face grew warm again and I slammed the van door. I had no desire to eat with the others.
Chapter
19
When we reached Lancaster County, the driver of the truck took the direct route to Hannah’s home. I hadn’t told her or Leon good-bye. I doubted I’d have been able to patch things over with either in a short interaction—but still, my heart ached and lurched and ached some more. I’d never felt so out of sorts in all my life.
When our driver pulled into the Rupps’ driveway, Betsy and Levi walked out to meet us. Robbie squealed at the sight of his parents and began shaking his arms and legs in his car seat. Pete opened the side door, and Cate unbuckled her nephew and then passed him to Pete, who passed him to Levi. From his Dat’s arms, Robbie lunged for his Mamm. Betsy laughed, took him, and propped him on top of her belly.
“How are you feeling?” Cate asked.
“Much better. The rest did me good.”
“Is Tamara back?”
Betsy shook her head. “Nan will bring her tomorrow.”
“There’s only a week until the wedding.”
“I know,” Betsy said. “It wasn’t my idea for her to keep the baby longer. It was hers.”
Ben crawled out from the back seat, saying to Beatrice as he did, “It’s been fun—not.”
“Good R-I-D-D-A-N-C-E,” she responded.
He grinned. “See you next week.”
Beatrice answered. “Maybe—not.” I hadn’t told her about Mamm’s situation yet. Perhaps she would be too ill for us to attend the wedding.
Next the driver dropped off Mervin and Martin, and from their lane I could see the lilies beginning to bloom in our field.
I kept my eye on them, happy to be home. The van turned up our driveway, and Love romped toward us from the yard. Mamm came out of the house, a smile on her face, limping along with the cane.
“What happened?” Beatrice gasped, jumping out of the van.
“Just a fall,” Mamm said. “I’m fine.”
Pete and Cate climbed out to greet her as Beatrice and I retrieved our things, and Love ran circles around all of us. I placed everything in an orderly line on the edge of the lawn. Before I could stop her, Mamm lifted one of our bags. “Mamm!” I called out.
“Here,” Pete said, taking it from Mamm. “Let me carry that inside.”
I protested, insisting I could do it. Pete ignored me and grabbed several other bags, piling them on one ice chest, while the driver grabbed the other one.
“Where’s Ivan?” I asked Mamm.
“Out in the greenhouse,” she said.
He’d probably been going through years of our business accounts.
“Edna’s still here. She’s in the house,” Mamm added.
I expected that—and was very grateful.
Beatrice put her arm around Mamm. “How are you?”
“Just fine.”
“Mamm . . .” I said. “Ivan told me what’s going on, but I didn’t have a chance to tell Beatrice.” I should have pulled her away from the others and told her. I shuddered a little. I didn’t want everyone else to know our business—to know how vulnerable we were. I was too afraid what Mamm’s coming diagnosis might mean for our family. All these years I’d been the one in our group of friends without any problems, but not anymore.
Mamm leaned against her cane and put her arm around Bea. “Of course one test leads to another. I have to have some more on Monday. Ivan and Edna will take me again.”
“Are you past the worst of it though?” Beatrice asked.
“Probably . . .” Mamm answered and quickly changed the subject. “I thought I heard a mockingbird this morning, but by the time I got downstairs, it was gone.”
“Maybe we’ll hear it this evening,” Beatrice said. “Let’s sit out on the porch after supper.”
I grabbed a kitchen box. “I’m going to take this to the basement.”
Pete and the driver returned from the kitchen. “Where do you want the rest of it?” Pete asked.
“We can do it—honestly,” I said. “Denki for your help.” I turned to Cate. “You too.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re the one who worked so har
d.”
Pete waved as he climbed into the van and I called out a thank-you to the driver too. I hoisted the first of the plastic boxes and headed toward the basement, put it in its exact place, and took the other ones down too. Then, with Love at my side, I walked to the greenhouse office to say hello to Ivan.
He sat at the desk, files stacked around, and papers strewn here and there. I hoped he was keeping everything straight.
I cleared my throat at the open door.
He turned, taking his glasses from his face. “When did you get home?”
“Just now,” I said, stepping into the room, leaving Love at the door.
Ivan had never been one for outside work, at least as long as I’d known him. He seemed as happy as could be digging through our accounts.
“How was the camping trip?” he asked.
“Fine.”
His eyes twinkled. “Any closer to marrying Mervin Mosier?”
Showing just how out of control I was, tears welled up in my eyes and then spilled down my cheeks. Love began to whine. Clearly Ivan didn’t know what to do, but he tried, standing awkwardly, putting an arm around me, but holding it rather stiffly with a good distance between us.
“It’s nothing,” I said, pulling my apron to my face. “I’m just tired.”
“Jah, camping can do that. I remember how much I hated it as a boy.”
Behind my apron, I smiled through my tears. I could just imagine Dat dragging Ivan off to the mountains. “Can we talk later?” I asked, peeking above the fabric. “About Mamm? And the farm? And all of this.” Except for Mervin Mosier. There was no reason to talk about that now. I just hoped, in the near future, there would still be reason to talk about Leon.
“Sure,” Ivan said. “Go get some rest.”
Love licked my hand on the way back to the house. At least she still wanted to be near me. Instead of resting, I took the tent and sleeping bags down to the basement. Then I grabbed the box with Dat’s shirts, deciding after I’d stashed it in the sewing room I’d put away the food, but Edna already had it all done.
Mamm and Beatrice were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea.
Edna gave me a hug and said, “I’m fixing a treat. Sit down.”
I did, watching Beatrice and Mamm out of the corner of my eye. Beatrice told her all about the trip, about the golden eagle we’d seen, and the meadowlarks and finches.
“Did you see any columbine?” Mamm asked.
“Jah,” Beatrice answered. “I saw some on the road, the evening . . .” She paused. “Anyway, it was orange and yellow. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Mamm beamed. “I remember seeing those with your Dat and you girls, all those years ago.”
I took a deep breath. I hadn’t remembered. “There was a purple flower,” I said. “Like nettle. A cluster of blossoms on a stem.”
“Ach,” Mamm said. “Heal-all.”
I tilted my head. I’d never heard of it.
“People used to make a tea from it. It’s supposed to be good for everything from a sore throat to a weak heart.”
I put my hand to my own heart as it lurched inside my chest.
Mamm noticed, putting her hand on my arm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“She had a rough time,” Beatrice said.
I shook my head slightly.
“What is it?” Mamm asked. “Did things not go well with Mervin?”
“Mamm,” I said, “that was never meant to be.” I stood as Edna started toward us with two bowls of strawberries and cream in her hands.
“Ach, Edna,” I said, taking the bowls from her. “You’re too good to us.”
She beamed at me and returned to the counter.
I breathed in the sweet scent of the berries and the richness of the cream as I served my Mamm and sister. Usually strawberries and cream brought me great comfort, but today the halved red shapes made me think of my own broken heart.
My only comfort was in Mamm not knowing the true reason for my angst.
As Beatrice told Mamm about the grove of white pines, I realized Beatrice’s ignorance probably brought Mamm comfort too. It was one less thing she needed to worry about.
I sighed as Edna served me, saying, “Denki,” but thinking Beatrice would soon know—we all would—what Mamm’s prognosis was.
In the morning, as I finished making the tea, Love barked outside, and I went to see who was there. Mervin and Martin stood on the stoop, ready to knock. They backed up when I opened the door. Love ran a circle around them.
“Your Mamm left a message,” Martin said, putting his sunglasses on his face even though the sun was barely over the hill. “She said she needed another hand.”
We did have the lilies to cut, so jah, there was work for Martin for the day, but I couldn’t imagine there would be work all the time for him too.
Ivan came out of the house with his cup of coffee, squinting when he saw Martin. “Am I seeing double?” He laughed and then extended his free hand to shake Martin’s. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”
Ivan turned to me and said, “So Anna figured if things didn’t work out between you and Mervin—”
“Ivan,” I interrupted, “did you notice the lilies?” I grabbed his arm and pulled him around to the corner of the house, pointing him toward the field.
As it turned out, both Edna and Ivan helped us cut the lilies—and so did Mamm. She insisted—although she mostly sat in the lawn chair on the edge of the field and watched with Love sprawled out at her feet.
“Oh, it’s just beautiful,” Edna said, surveying the field. Beyond the lilies, the lavender bloomed. In another few weeks, at the far end of the field, the tiger lilies would begin to blossom. The orange of those flowers against the purple lavender would be even more striking than the pink and white of the Asiatic lilies. “You’ve done a good job,” Edna said. “I know it’s a lot of work.”
“Jah,” I answered. “But there’s nothing else I’d rather do.” I took a small knife from my apron pocket and handed it to her.
We each took a row of the lilies that had started to bloom, working our way down it. In no time I was in the lead, with Mervin not far behind me. Beatrice and Ivan were tied for last. Around nine, I convinced Mamm to go in the house with Beatrice for a cup of tea. Love followed them—she’d been sticking close to Mamm now.
“Go ahead,” I said to Ivan. “The truck will be here in a half hour, but we’re nearly done. We’ll be ready.” Thankfully the wholesaler had arranged for the transport.
“It was this way when we were growing up too,” Edna said as she and I stood together, looking over the flowers. “He was always gifted at getting out of work.” She grinned. “I guess I’m soon to be getting out of the work myself. I need to get back home this afternoon.”
“Denki for your help,” I said. I truly meant it. The last couple of months would have been unbearable without her.
“I feel for you and Beatrice,” she said. “It’s a lot for you to deal with.”
“We’ll be okay,” I said. She’d lost her mother when she was younger than I was now, but she’d had her Dat for a long time after that. Hopefully we’d have Mamm for years to come too.
She gestured toward the twins. Martin had nearly caught up with Mervin in their side-by-side rows. “Which one is interested in you?”
“Was,” I whispered. “The one in the lead.”
“And why did your Mamm hire the other one?”
“She’s hoping maybe we’ll turn out to be compatible.”
“The other one wasn’t?”
“Not really,” I said. “Besides, he’s in love with Hannah, my best friend.”
“Jah, I remember her.” She paused. “And Ivan said you were interested in someone else?”
“Am.” I sighed. “I’ve never felt the way about anyone else the way I do about Leon. Ever. I didn’t even know I could feel this way.”
Edna grinned. “That’s the one Ivan is pull
ing for, jah? So you’ll move to Montana?”
I grimaced. “Ivan wants me to move to Montana?”
She smiled and patted my arm. “Of course not. But if Anna needs to sell, he’d like to buy the place.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
She cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“That he’ll do the same thing with this place that he did with yours.”
The questioning look stayed on her face.
“Sell it,” I said.
“Jah, sure. What’s wrong with that?”
I frowned.
“He’s not sentimental,” Edna said. “Don’t hold that against him. And as far as my place, he did me a big favor. He gave me as good a price as anyone would have at the time and saved me a lot of trouble. I needed all of my time to be with Frank, not . . .” Her voice broke a little, but then she took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know what I would have done without Ivan’s help.”
“Oh,” I managed to say, realizing I’d misjudged the situation.
“And,” she said, “I hope you’re not thinking of not marrying this Leon and not going to Montana just because of this farm. Dat wouldn’t have wanted that.”
I kept my voice low and even. “Mamm does.”
“Maybe she thinks she does, but she came here from Ohio. I’m sure she wants you to follow the Lord’s leading.” Edna’s brown eyes, so much like my father’s had been, were the brightest I’d ever seen them. “She hasn’t been herself. Tell her how you feel about Leon. She’ll understand.”
“But what about the farm?”
Edna smiled tenderly. “You have to trust God about that. Believe me,” she said. “There’s a whole lot worse things than losing a piece of property. Losing love? Jah, that’s what really hurts.”
She turned away quickly as tears pooled in my eyes for her. “You should go in the house with Mamm and Beatrice,” I said, my heart contracting. “I’ll be in after a while.”
Edna turned back toward me. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d miss you like crazy if you moved to Montana.”
I gave her a hug. “Denki for being so open,” I said. “But I don’t see that ever happening.” Not now.
I walked back down my row and got back to work, finishing just behind Mervin. He locked eyes with mine, but he didn’t say anything.