Fannie let the word love roll over in her mind, not able to absorb it. He loved her, but she was not a beauty like Lizzie. But Melvin said she was, so maybe this was her old unconditioned mind dragging her down. No, she was fearfully and wonderfully made, like the Good Book said. But why was she so afraid?
She let Melvin steal another kiss, and then pulled the buggy over to the side of the road, where a huge oak would shield them from the wind. He pulled a little heart -shaped carved box out of his coat pocket and gave it to her, his hand lingering on hers. She knew Melvin sold these little trinket boxes to the English for Valentine’s Day, but never expected to get one. He told her to open it, and when she did, there was a little white piece of paper on the bottom that read, Marry me this spring.
Marry me? In the spring? The shock of it all made her freeze stiff like all the icicles hanging from the split rail fence. They’d only been courting for two months. She could see out of the corner of her eye, Melvin’s head lower, and then turned to see him looking dejected.
“I suppose that’s a no,” he said. “Maybe I was hasty.”
She slid her hand through his arm. “I do want to marry you, Melvin. I’m just a little surprised. Are you sure you want to marry me? And why the rush? Why not a November wedding?”
He put both arms around her and drew her close. “I want a parcel of kinner with you. A house full. I’m thirty and want to start a family.”
She rested her head on his chest. “I want the same thing, but couldn’t we wait until November? So much preparation…and you’ll know for sure about your feelings for Lizzie.”
She felt Melvin sigh as his chest went up and down. “If we wed in November it’ll be so you’ll know about my feeling for Lizzie, jah?”
She looked up at Melvin sheepishly. “I do feel inferior to her, you know that.”
He bent down and kissed her. “Need to make more things to put in that compliment box I made you. But, can you at least give me an answer? Will you marry me?”
Fannie looked into the eyes that said she was the best thing since ice cream. “Jah, I will.” She flung her arms around him and laughed. “I will, for sure.” She looked across the field and through the twilight saw a farmhouse that had black smoke gently swirling upward from the chimney. The ashes in her life were being blown away too.
~*~
Granny whirled around her kitchen, making tea and muffins. The girls would be mighty cold when they got to the knitting circle. She turned when she heard Jeb stomping the snow off his boots outside, but didn’t expect the concern on his face. “What’s wrong, love?”
Jeb took off his boots and put them on the black rubber mat, and slowly walked to the table, head down. “Long talk with Roman, and I’m plumb worn out.”
“Does he agree with you or me? “
Jeb took off his wool hat. “With you of course. It’s the easy road…”
“Jebediah Weaver! When have I ever been known to take the easy road?”
He ran his fingers through his gray hair. “You know what I’m saying, Deborah. The natural way, the hasty way, is what I’m talking about.”
“Well, he obviously listens to you. I told him to take a bouquet of purple flowers to Lizzie as soon as she got home, but he didn’t. I remember those bouquets he used to take her –“
“Deborah, have you forgotten there are three pairs of eyes watching this? The girls may get the impression Roman never loved their mamm.”
“The girls don’t know that they used to court. He’s been a widower for over three years and I say let him set things right with her. She never married because she only ever loved Roman.”
Jeb moaned. “Persuasion. Ach, Deborah, you’re thinking about love all wrong from those novels you read. That lady almost ruined her life waiting for a sailor. Seven or eight years? I think she needed counseling.”
Granny sighed. “How do you know the story? Been reading my Jane Austen books again?”
“Nee, just the back cover. All you need to be reading too. Just don’t know if her notion of love is right. It’s not some feeling you can’t shake. It’s a commitment for life.”
“Well, we’re not going to agree on this because I have a woman’s heart,” she said. “Thank God,” she mumbled under her breath when she opened the oven to take out muffins.
“I heard that,” Jeb chuckled. “But Roman’s a man and need a man’s advice, jah? From a man’s heart?”
She turned and smiled at him. “I’ve always trusted your advice…old man. I’ll be trusting you on this. But, when will Roman tell Lizzie he knows about the note?”
“That’s something that needs bathed in prayer. Dunked in prayer. A note written eleven years ago about such a sensitive matter…”
“Hard to believe it could happen here in Smicksburg.” Granny put her hand on her stomach. Pain shot through her middle every time she thought that Lizzie was sexually assaulted, and wouldn’t be a virgin if the hunter, or angel, as she called him, hadn’t come along and saved her. To think Lizzie carried that burden for years, breaking her engagement off to Roman. Granny always thought all along Lizzie’s dad’s MS diagnosis wasn’t at the heart of her sudden change in behavior. Tears pooled in her eyes and she felt dizzy and sat down.
“Love, it was in the past. We move forward, jah? “Jeb put his hand on hers.
But obviously a woman’s heart didn’t move forward, or Lizzie would have spoken up. Being an elder’s wife, she felt hurt Lizzie couldn’t confide in her all those years ago. Now, Jeb was asking her to not tell anyone, not even Lizzie…that she knew she really went to Lancaster for counseling. She closed her eyes tight, so tears wouldn’t spill out, but it didn’t work. She let them flow freely, for the girl who was twenty-one, who was supposed to marry her son, if some scoundrel hadn’t made her feel unclean, and bruised not only her arms badly, but her heart.
Then her thoughts turned to Maryann, and her upcoming surgery. A full mastectomy of one breast? Her whole body shook as she sobbed. She hadn’t cried like this except at funerals. What was wrong with her? Lack of faith? Not trusting in the sovereignty of God?
“Cleansing tears,” Jeb said. “Remember you told me some tears are for cleansing? Let them flow Deborah, let them flow.”
~*~
Ruth watched in shock as Luke shoveled ashes in front of the buggy wheels, helping dislodge them from the snow. She always did it herself the many times she couldn’t make the buggy budge. He took the horse by the bridle and soon the buggy was free. She started to walk out on the icy driveway, but Luke slid over to take her hand, so she wouldn’t slip.
She’d let him home on Old Christmas, and over the past three weeks, his behavior was good. Almost too good? But was it the real Luke, the anti-anxiety medicine setting the real man free, like the psychologist said? She looked down at the ashes on the ground. He gives us beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness…Isaiah 61:3. But could he do it for her? Her heart was in pieces. How could a woman get over the fact that her husband looked at pornography? That wasn’t part of his anxiety problem. Yes, his temper hadn’t flared, and she was grateful, but she couldn’t help but be disgusted by the sin of lust.
She let him help her into the buggy, and felt warmth coming up from the buggy robe. Luke had heated up a brick to keep her warm? Maybe it was something Jeb did for Granny and wrote it in his little book on how to treat your wife right, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Danki, Luke.”
“Now be careful on those roads. Don’t go making up for lost time. Ella will understand the buggy was stuck.”
Was she dreaming? He was actually thinking of her safety? After all the rules she’d laid down, even not letting him babysit little Micah, which she knew broke his heart, she was surprised. He looked up at her with those blue eyes, with tenderness. At times she just wanted to run into his arms and forget all he’d put her through. She forgave, the Amish way, she knew for certain, but the feelings would have to follow. She
nodded her head and urged the horse to move forward.
~*~
Lizzie pulled her black cape tight around her. Sitting in the back seat of the buggy, being shielded from the wind by Fannie and Melvin helped ease the chill. She liked the buggies in Lancaster much better, being enclosed with glass. Her shock over seeing a battery operated windshield wiper made Amos laugh.
She dreaded running into Roman again and hoped he didn’t come over to the knitting circle. He kept stopping over at the store, and each time, her anger only got worse. Was this part of the grieving process the counselor told her about? But she didn’t expect this much anger, crying, or sometimes thinking she was over reacting. Her mind seemed to sway like the wind, but she did feel clean inside again, and no one could take that away. She even was able to forgive her assailant and pray for him. He had no more control over her. Forgiveness really was a healing balm; the nasty man that tried to assault her was the real prisoner, a prisoner to lust and rage.
She breathed in the crisp air, feeling refreshed, as the buggy passed a grove of pines. She loved watching Fannie and Melvin together, her head on his shoulder. They really seemed to be in love. Who would have thought?
As they approached Granny’s house, a sharp pain jabbed at her stomach and she felt nauseated. Seeing Roman was so bittersweet. She loved him and totally despised him at the same time. He was the only one who knew about the attempted assault years ago, yet did nothing. She thought back to her trip to Lancaster and Amos Miller. Such a fine man and four beautiful kinner. He knew about her former trial and why she went to counseling. The crying spells and anger she felt after each counseling session, she couldn’t hide, and she blurted it out. Amos took her hand and lent strength to her. She needed a man like that. Someone not self-centered like Roman. The letters Amos sent were encouraging, and he was a part of her healing. Would he be a part of her life?
She let Melvin help her up the icy steps, and was glad Roman was nowhere in sight. But when she saw Granny, she was taken back. She’d been sobbing. Most likely distraught over Maryann’s diagnosis and surgery. She went over to Granny and hugged her tight. “We’re all grieved for Maryann, but we’ll get through this together?” Granny didn’t recompose herself, but tore herself away and ran to her bedroom.
Fannie’s mouth gaped open and turned to Jeb, sitting at the kitchen table. “What happened?”
Jeb sighed. “Cleansing tears. She just needs a good cleaning out. She’ll be out in a few minutes. You girls want some tea and muffins?”
“Jah,” Lizzie said.
“Well, I’ll pass,” Melvin said, as he turned to Fannie, eyes glowing. “I’ll be over at Roman’s.”
Roman…just the name made Lizzie squirm. How long would this last? She tried to turn her attention to something else. “Jeb, how’s the mamm of the twins? Have you heard from her?”
“Nee, and that’s another thing weighing on Deborah’s heart. She got real attached to that precious girl, and isn’t too sure her daed is sincere in wanting her back. She was forced to be baptized when she was fifteen, of all things. Lavina said she’d made the vow without really meaning it.”
“She said that out loud?” Fannie asked, hand over her mouth.
“Well, I probed her pretty hard. Anyhow, what fifteen year old knows their own mind? Best wait until at least eighteen.”
“No rumspringa either, I suppose,” Lizzie added.
“Nee, the daed squeezed her too tight. Deborah loves her red roses, as yinz know. They climb up over the porch rails in the summer. When the girls pick them she always warns them to not squeeze them too tight, or they’ll die. She gives them mason jars filled with water so they can take them home and enjoy them. Lavina was crushed, like those roses, and needed water.”
“Sounds like something Granny would say,” Fannie said.
Jeb winked. “Some words of wisdom that come out of my mouth, I’ve learned from my wife.”
The door opened, blowing in a brisk chill. Lizzie jumped, thinking it was Roman, but it was Ella and Ruth. “My buggy was snowed in or we’d be here sooner.” Ruth looked around. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing some knitting can’t help,” Granny said as she walked into the living room. “You girls all get some muffins and tea and come over here and join me. Awfully cold and our shawls are needed in Missouri.”
Lizzie went over and sat next to Granny. “Lavina will be alright, and Maryann too. It’s a blessing she went to the doctors, jah?”
Granny put her head down and started to knit. “You’re right. The doctor said it could have spread to her lymph nodes but appears it’s contained.”
Lizzie took up her bag of yarn and shawl that was almost done. “Knitting is so goot for the nerves.”
“Jah, it sure is,” Ruth said, as she took a seat. “I’ve been knitting more than I ever have.”
“Me too,” Ella chimed in. “But I must admit, I’m not always making shawls. I’m working on prayer blankets for the twins.”
“Prayer blankets? What’s that?” Fannie asked, as she took up her knitting.
“Well, you may think it’s silly, but I made up the name myself. It’s just what I call them. When I knit, I pray for my twins so I call them prayer blankets.”
Fannie put her yarn in her lap. “That is so sweet. And I like the confidence in your voice, when you say my twins. You and Lavina got everything worked out, jah?”
“Well, I don’t know. I wrote but haven’t gotten a letter back. I did tell her she could visit every once in a while, but just let us know first.”
Granny pursed her lips. “That daed of hers…well….he frightens me. But I keep saying ‘Regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow are twin thieves that rob us of the moment’.” She looked up. “You girls know that proverb, jah?”
“Nee,” Ruth said. “Is it in the Bible?”
“It’s a saying passed down in my family, I suppose. But if you think about it, we can’t change what’s in the past so it only robs us of joy. And fear can cripple us worse than arthritis, robbing us from moving on.”
Ella beamed. “Granny you are so wise.”
“My mamm was wise. She engrained that in me since I was a kinner.” She looked over at Ruth. “And now I’m meditating on beauty for ashes. Really turning the whole thing over and over in my mind. It’s a promise from the Good Book. Ruth, your mamm was wise to instill that in you, jah?”
Ruth shifted. “Jah, but it’s not easy when you smell ashes all around you. A little spark could make them ignite again.”
Lizzie thought about all that was being said about regrets, fear of the future, and now beauty for ashes. She felt her throat constrict and the uncontrollable urge to cry overtook her again. She put her hands to her face and let the tears flow freely.
“Lizzie, are you upset about me and Melvin?” Fannie asked.
Granny put down her yarn and put her arm around Lizzie. “Cleansing tears?”
Lizzie looked around the room at the baffled women. “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind. I miss Lancaster…”
“And Amos Miller?” Fannie asked.
Lizzie felt like she was suffocating and gasped for air. “Jah, I do actually. He’s a wunderbar goot man, with four dear kinner. Lydia thought we’d make a goot match. But, we’ll see.”
“We’ll see what?” Granny asked.
“Well, we’re writing for now. I get a letter almost every other day.” She turned to Granny. “Where do you get your pretty stationary? Punxsy-Mart?”
Granny started to knit feverishly. “Some of it, jah. But I won’t be going up there anytime soon; Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney is something I avoid. So much traffic.”
“But Suzy’s a goot driver. I think it would be fun to go up and watch. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, is there?” Fannie asked.
“I think with Maryann’s surgery scheduled for Monday, we need to stay put and help with the kinner,” Ruth said. “I’m making a meal chart, making sure there’s meals taken ov
er for a long while.”
Granny looked up at Ruth. “I see it already in you Ruth. Beauty. You’re spreading beauty around even from your ashes. “Granny got up and embraced Ruth. “Lord bless you child.”
Maryann remembered what Fannie had asked, Are you upset about me and Melvin? What an odd thing to ask. “Fannie, what you said about you and Melvin and me being upset…what did you mean? Why would I be upset?”
Fannie lips spread and her eyes lit up. “It’s a secret.”
Ella clapped her hands. “And we know what’s kept a secret.”
Granny froze. “You and Melvin have a secret? We all know what that means.”
Fannie put her hand over her mouth. “Weddings are kept a secret, but other things are too. Melvin and I have only been courting for a few months. Why would you think we had plans for a wedding? If you think that you’re -”
Granny laughed. “You’re trying so hard to pull the wool over our eyes. We’re not daft.”
Lizzie looked at all the animated faces, and she was so happy for Fannie. She thought there was more of a tenderness in the buggy between Fannie and Melvin than usual. Her mind wandered to Amos, of all things. Would she have a secret to keep some day? Would she see beauty for ashes?
~*~
Roman crossed his arms and slouched in his rocker, unable to speak. The flame of the oil lamp didn’t compare to the glow on Melvin’s face. He was engaged to Fannie?
“Look here, Melvin, I’m not prying, but it does seem hasty. You’ve only courted for two months, is it?”
Melvin looked keenly at a bird he was whittling for Fannie. “She’s the one. I know it.”
Roman didn’t want to bring up Melvin courting Lizzie just last year, although it was a short spell, but after the talk with his daed about being hasty, he felt obligated. “Adopt the pace of nature; her secret is patience. You’ve heard that, jah?”
He leaned forward. “Roman, I’m thirty and never been married. Don’t you think I’ve been patient enough?”
“But you were courting Lizzie not long ago.”
Smicksburg Tales 1,2 & 3 (Amish Knitting Circle, Amish Friends Knitting Circle & Amish Knit Lit Cirlce ~ Complete Series: 888 pages for Granny Weaver Lovers and 30+ Amish Recipes Page 15