by Mary Ellis
Mamm’s voice carried up to her bedroom as Josie put the final touches on her Sunday evening toilette. She read that word in a historical novel at the library and had been shocked. When the librarian explained the archaic definition, Josie had chuckled for the rest of the day. Not that she had much of a toilette to perform. She wouldn’t wear makeup, and her thick hair would be bound under a kapp. Flossing her teeth and applying lemonade ChapStick would have to suffice.
In the kitchen her mother set out a plate of cold ham sandwiches and a pitcher of tea for supper. “Are you going to the singing tonight?” she asked.
Josie joined Laura in setting the table. “I am. Caleb lives on the same road as the hosts, so I’ll walk to his house. Afterward he can drive me home.”
“You will walk to the Beachys with your two schwestern. Then he’ll drive all three of you back.” Margaret never raised her voice, yet still managed to convey nonnegotiable decisions with perfect clarity.
Josie glanced at Laura, who lifted and dropped her shoulders. “All right. May I take some brownies for the dessert table?”
“You may, but that’s enough discussion about tonight’s singing.” John Yoder spoke from the doorway. “Let’s sit and bow our heads in prayer.”
An hour later the three Yoder women met Caleb in the turn-around. If he was disappointed, he hid it well. “Ladies, your carriage awaits.” Caleb flourished his hand toward the horse and buggy.
“Looks like your same old rig to me,” Laura teased. “In storybooks, the carriage is solid gold and the horse pure white.” Laura climbed into the backseat, pulling Jessie in next to her.
Caleb helped Josie climb up beside him. “I’ll keep that in mind when I turn this horse out to pasture. For now, we must use our imaginations.”
“Danki for letting my sisters come with us,” said Josie very softly.
“What man wouldn’t appreciate being surrounded by such beauty?”
Sounds emanating from the backseat were less than ladylike as Josie settled back for the drive. Caleb entertained them with stories of progress at the Sidleys’. He discussed none of the brothers, but she got the distinct impression the situation had improved for them as well.
“All I can say, Caleb, is you’re a braver man than most.” Laura summed up Josie’s opinion as well.
Once they’d reached their host’s farm and joined the singing, Josie felt Caleb’s gaze. But if the truth be told, Josie couldn’t stop thinking about him either. She hoped God would forgive how often her mind drifted from hymns of praise to a tall man with chocolate brown eyes.
When the singing concluded, Josie headed toward the dessert table with her sisters. Laura grabbed Josie’s arm before they reached the line. “I have gut news for you.” Laura spoke from behind a raised palm. “I found a ride for Jessie and me.”
“With whom?” Josie didn’t bother hiding behind her hand.
“My friend Kathleen agreed to take us home, even though it’s a tad out of the way.” Laura grinned affectionately.
“Danki, dear one.” Josie kissed Laura’s forehead, knowing her girlfriend lived in the opposite direction. Piling brownies and Apple Betty bars onto a plate, Josie hurried to where Caleb had found a place to sit. “You won’t believe this.” She lifted her legs over the picnic bench.
“Your schwestern rounded up a ride home tonight?” Caleb leaned so close she could smell the scent of Ivory soap.
Josie punched his arm. “How did you guess?”
“I saw Laura talking to folks on her way out of the barn and then you in the dessert line.” Caleb lifted a brownie from the plate. “It didn’t take a genius to figure out.”
“Are you pleased, or should I tell her to forget it?” Clucking her tongue, Josie crossed her arms over her apron.
Caleb’s dimples deepened. “My heart soars into the stratosphere with just the possibility.”
“That’s better.” Josie nibbled the crusty edges of an Apple Betty bar. “Where on earth did you learn to say such things?”
“From an Englischer, who else? I heard my friend Pete say that to his fiancée, Michelle.”
“In jest?” She sucked out the apple filling.
“I don’t know. Michelle was miffed with him at the time, and it did seem to soften her up.” A cloud seemed to cross Caleb’s face that, unlike Pete’s, was dark and ominous.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Aren’t my brownies sitting well on your stomach?”
“The brownies are great, but I realized Pete and Michelle are probably married by now. I didn’t attend their wedding, or buy a gift, or even send a card. Pete even invited me to be his best man.” Caleb sighed.
“You’re feeling sad for not going to an Englisch wedding?” Josie licked sticky glaze from her fingers.
“Jah, he was my friend, my only friend in Cleveland. Pete helped me through several tough situations.” Caleb cracked his knuckles one by one, his mood deteriorating with each.
“Didn’t he have any bruders or other friends to be his best man? Considering the situation, I’m sure it should have been another Englischer.”
“That’s not the point, Josie. Pete only asked one favor of me the entire time we knew one another. And I not only didn’t stand up for him, I’ve made no effort to recognize his marriage to Michelle. Even Plain folks give wedding presents.” Caleb sprang to his feet as though too agitated to remain seated.
For some odd reason, Josie felt uncomfortable with Caleb’s loyalty. “I’m sure Pete understood that your decision to come home meant returning to Amish ways. And that means cutting your ties to the past. It’s what’s expected and necessary to focus on a godly life.”
Caleb produced a crooked grin. “If you weren’t so pretty, I’d think I was listening to one of Daed’s Sunday sermons.”
“Mir leid.” She apologized and forced herself to meet his gaze. “I didn’t intend to lecture you, only to say Pete probably wasn’t disappointed.”
Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “But I’m disappointed. He and Michelle were important to me. A man doesn’t—or shouldn’t—forget his friends so easily.”
Josie searched her mind for the right thing to say but came up empty. Few life experiences had prepared her for this debate. “It’s not too late to send a gift. Don’t we have a year according to Englisch rules? Maybe I can make a quilt for the newlyweds with my mamm’s and sisters’ help. Sarah and Rebekah could help as long as they sit at opposite ends of the table. We might even finish the quilt by midsummer.”
Caleb studied her closely. “You would do that for me?”
“Well, jah. We’re a courting couple, aren’t we? Or at least that’s what I was led to believe. I know we haven’t announced our engagement and won’t until the fall, but I thought we were serious about each other.” The longer she rambled, the more like an idiot she felt.
Pushing away from the tree, Caleb returned to where she sat. He splayed his hands on the table. “How could I spend my life with a woman so shy and uncommunicative? I would never know what you’re thinking or what you expected from me.”
Josie huffed out her breath. “Right now, I expect you to eat so we can leave. Then I expect you to choose a roundabout route so we can enjoy a perfect summer night. We have clear skies, plenty of stars, and even a moon to light our way.” She tilted her head back to look up.
Caleb reached for another brownie. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s take these desserts for the ride. What if we became hopelessly lost? Without a GPS we could be stranded for days.”
Josie covered the plate with a napkin and brushed crumbs from her skirt. “I don’t know anyone Plain who owns a GPS. Standardbreds usually know the country roads better than any gizmo mounted to the windshield.”
As they walked to his buggy, she reached for his rough, callused hand. But during the long, circuitous route home, something other than an occasional mosquito bothered Josie. Each time she inquired about his plans for the future—his plans for their future—Caleb sounded vague and co
nfused. His favorite topic of conversation was Pete Taylor, the Englisch carpenter. Caleb filled the drive with an endless stream of tales about his life in the city.
Yes, living near Lake Erie with seagulls, sailboats, and flying kites from the bluffs sounded lovely. And yes, she was certain the diversity of food from the area markets and restaurants would be delicious. But frankly, Josie didn’t understand what any of this had to do with them. Perhaps Caleb needed a chance to vent because he’d missed his friend’s wedding.
She just hoped he would lose his fascination with the past before autumn leaves changed to the first lacy flakes of snow.
Eli climbed his porch steps a weary man. Monday, and it already felt like the end of the week. His recent hire, Josiah’s nephew, didn’t possess the same skills as his son, even though the man tried his best. Caleb had a good eye for rough cuts, seldom wasting more than the barest minimum of lumber. Their new construction project, although free of labor disputes, offered a fresh set of headaches, including an owner who watched over his shoulder and questioned every decision. At least Eli had no obligations this evening. After supper he planned to relax in his recliner with the Good Book and a cup of honey tea.
“Hello, fraa.” Seeing his wife stirring a pot on the stove never failed to lift his spirits. Several gray wisps escaped her bun while her face glowed with the sheen of perspiration.
“Ach, I’m glad you’re home. You had better see to the milking. Caleb’s not home from the Sidleys’ yet.”
“Where are my dochdern?” He bit back a surge of irritation.
“Rebekah is cleaning the henhouse and gathering eggs, but she must have fallen asleep out there. I haven’t seen her in hours. Sarah had to work late for Mrs. Pratt. Now she’s in the garden picking lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes for supper. I’ll send Katie out to help you.” Elizabeth winked one brown eye.
“She’ll have to do.” Eli resettled his hat on his head and fumed all the way to the barn. Even though they owned only three cows, he’d hoped one of his kinner would have assumed milking chores. Everyone was always so busy, and Katie helped little because she was afraid of cows. After Katie tried to pet a nursing calf, the annoyed mother had chased her across the pasture. Now she admired new babies from behind the fence.
When Eli returned to the kitchen an hour later supper wasn’t ready, despite four Beachy women present and accounted for.
“You’re adding too much milk to the mashed potatoes.” Rebekah peered into Sarah’s saucepot with a frown. “Turning them into soup won’t take the lumps out.”
Sarah lifted up the masher. “Would you like to take over while I fix the salad?” Her sugar-sweet tone fooled no one.
Rebekah pursed her lips. “I had better, or we’ll be eating oatmeal that tastes oddly like potatoes.”
Wordlessly, Sarah dropped the utensil into the pot and walked to the sink.
Eli slumped into his chair with a glass of milk to coat his stomach.
“Brown gravy for the meat loaf, ehemann? Or will catsup be okay?”
Intent on watching his middle dochder attack the spuds with her masher, he didn’t answer.
“Eli, do you want brown gravy?” Elizabeth placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Catsup will suffice so we don’t dine at midnight.”
Elizabeth tugged on his earlobe. “Things only look like chaos. We’ll be eating before you know it.”
Katie carried plates and bowls to the table while Sarah placed a bowl of salad in the center, a mound of chopped vegetables covering the lettuce and spinach. Within minutes his fraa delivered sliced meat loaf, a bowl of buttered yellow beans, and the resuscitated mashed potatoes.
“At last,” Eli muttered.
But not a half-minute after their prayer, Rebekah delivered her second complaint. “Must you drown the entire salad with Ranch dressing, Sarah? Why can’t you let folks add a choice of dressings to their bowls?” Rebekah’s nostrils flared like an angry bull’s.
“So thoughtless of me,” murmured Sarah. “I forgot that everyone loves Ranch dressing, except for you.”
“Why can’t you speak to your schwester in a nice way?” Eli glared at Rebekah.
Her complexion flushed brightly. “I guess because of what happened at the singing. Sarah could have saved me a seat next to her, but she called over Laura Yoder.” Rebekah dabbed her salad with a paper napkin before adding Italian dressing.
Eli speared two slices of meat loaf. “Considering you work with Sarah all day, you should welcome time spent with your friends. Especially in light of how you two get along.”
Sarah speared a radish before replying. “James sat down next to Adam on the bench. That’s why Rebekah wanted to stick to me like gum on my shoe.”
“If you’re trying to fix Laura Yoder up with James, I will pull your hair.”
Eli dropped his knife with a clatter, but Elizabeth was first to respond. “You will do no such thing, young lady. What has come over you lately?”
Large tears rolled down Rebekah’s cheeks. “You only see my retaliation and not when Sarah is unkind to me. She’s sly like a fox around the chicken coop.”
Caleb returned from work, washed up in the mudroom, and had entered the kitchen silently. “James has no particular interest in Laura,” he said. “I can assure you, little schwester.”
“Sit down, son,” said Elizabeth. “Start eating before the food gets cold.”
Rebekah glared over her shoulder at Caleb. “Are you trying to make up after the stunt you and Josie pulled last night?”
Eli drowned his meat with catsup, attempting to tune out his offspring. “This meat loaf is loaded with onions—just how I like it.” He smiled at his wife as though they were alone in the room.
“What stunt would that be?” Caleb slid into his chair and reached for the salad.
“After Sarah left in Adam’s buggy I searched for you, Caleb. But you and Josie had already left.” A hiccup punctuated Rebekah’s mournful grievance. “I had to walk home by myself.”
Eli stopped ignoring his kinner. “What? You walked all that way in the dark?” He glared at his son and daughter in succession. “It’s not safe. You could have been hit by a car that doesn’t see you in time. And who knows what kind of people prowl country roads these days?”
Caleb leaned back in this chair, his food untouched thus far. “I thought Adam would bring you home, or I would’ve sent you with Josie’s schwestern. Or asked James to take you,” he added after a pause.
“You’re only saying that after the fact, when it’s too late for me to spend time with James.” Tears streamed down Rebekah’s face.
Eli waved his fork in the air. “Forget about James for a moment, dochder. You’re too young to think about courting anyway. Let’s focus on the fact your siblings abandoned you.” He swiveled in his chair toward Sarah. “What say you?”
Sarah had paled to a sickly pallor. “I’m truly sorry, Rebekah. I’d believed you were riding with Caleb.” She turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Daed.”
“Ach, a matter of miscommunication.” Elizabeth speared several yellow beans. “One that I hope won’t be repeated soon.”
“It won’t, Mamm.” Caleb sounded appropriately contrite.
“This isn’t satisfactory in my estimation.” Eli thumped his palm on the table. “According to Rebekah, plenty happens behind our backs. I won’t have this sparring between my girls. Any disagreements that occur at work should remain at the bed-and-breakfast. Talk things out on the walk home and don’t bring your problems into this house.”
“Jah, Daed,” his daughters replied in unison.
“When did you three become so uncaring, putting your own selves before one another? Even if I weren’t the bishop of this district, I would be discouraged by your behavior. And because I am the bishop, our family should set an example...in a positive way.”
Everyone sat very still—even Katie, who’d not been to the singing.
Caleb cleared his throat. “I apologize, Rebe
kah. As long as I live here you have my word, Daed, I’ll take better care of my sisters.”
Eli nodded. “Let’s finish this meal and make time to read Scripture. I would say we could use extra prayer time this evening too.”
While his daughters cleared the table and Caleb headed out the door toward the barn, Eli carried his coffee to the porch. Heat lightning in the distance foretold of rain later that night, much needed by the crops. Hopefully, the rain would relieve the humidity that had shortened tempers.
Elizabeth soon joined him with a glass of tea. “I gave Katie the night off. I don’t intend to lift a finger in the kitchen either. A bit of penance will do Rebekah and Sarah some good.”
“Where did we go wrong, fraa?” Eli gazed at the night sky as though it might hold clues to his family’s problems.
“Isn’t that the question asked by parents everywhere in the world?” She laughed merrily.
Grunting, he leaned his tired body against the post. “This isn’t how we raised them. Maybe I’ve been too lenient.”
“I don’t think so. They are gut kinner, but are going through adjustments with each other. Give them a few years and all will be well.”
“My hair will turn white as snow by then.”
“It probably would anyway.” Elizabeth slipped her arm around his waist, a rare gesture that he cherished.
“They are in God’s hands.” Eli pulled her close.
“They are indeed. Let’s take a walk, ehemann. I don’t want to set foot in that house until there’s not a chore left to be done.”
13
O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
On Sunday Caleb couldn’t wait to get to the preaching service. Not particularly because of the forty-five minute membership class, but because he would be taking Josie home in his open buggy. They needed to spend as much time as possible with each other, especially in such lovely weather. Sooner or later they would be expected to give up rumschpringe in preparation to join the church and follow the Ordnung. He’d finally found the first Amish woman he wished to court and he had only ten or twelve weeks left to do so. Then the singings, volleyball parties, hayrides, cookouts, and drives on starlit nights would become pleasant memories. By the time people reached his age, they were ready to give up running around to get married and raise families. But was he? Without a doubt he loved Josie, but he wished they had more time to get know one another.