Melvin took the tip of his pocket knife and poked the wood to form the bird’s eyes. “When I got to know Fannie… Well, how can I put it? It’s like someone gave me an apple pie and a rhubarb pie. Now I know how seldom a rhubarb pie comes along. It takes three years to get a decent crop, but apples are everywhere. Fannie’s a rhubarb pie, understand?”
Roman shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose, but Lizzie is no common apple though.”
“Well compared to Fannie she is, at least how I see it.”
“To me, Lizzie’s rhubarb…” Roman mumbled as he got up to throw a log in the woodstove.
“I heard that. I knew it. You care for Lizzie and it’s most likely why she’d never warmed up to another man; she cares for you.”
Roman felt a headache coming on. Lizzie couldn’t get close to a man all these years because she was a wounded bird.
“I’ve notice how she looks at you, Roman. Part of the reason I called off the courtship.”
“I don’t understand. Seems like she doesn’t care to be around me.”
“Well, maybe it’s because she’s nervous. Women are hard to understand, but I know how much Fannie hid her emotions. All the hurt and pain she carried was pitiful. Thinking she was fat and all. But she said it all started to change when your girls compared her to a pretty snowflake. Ain’t that something?”
Roman grinned. His girls were like a healing salve to a wound. Their child-like faith so trusting…so hopeful. Maybe they could help Lizzie trust too. When Melvin started to whistle, he looked up, realizing he’d never heard him whistle, hum or sing. “Melvin, can I ask you something in confidence?”
“Jah, sure. Would be glad to help.”
“I’d like to marry Lizzie but –“
“You aren’t even courting yet.”
Roman sighed. “Okay, I want to court Lizzie again. But I have my girls, and they’ll know someday I was engaged to Lizzie before their mamm. Over time, through the Amish Grapevine, they’ll know for sure. My daed fears they’ll think I never loved their mamm.”
“Why?”
“Because after Abigail died, I married an old girlfriend.”
Melvin shook his head as if trying to release something. “Roman, it was ages ago you and Lizzie courted. You and Lizzie have both changed. Both seen tragedy so maybe you see things the same. Look at Lizzie with losing her mamm, the house fire and now Jonas’ MS. You had a wife you loved killed in a buggy accident. You’re not the same people. If the girls ever question, tell them that people are like meandering rivers, never looking the same.”
Roman couldn’t help but stare at Melvin. “How’d you get to be so wise?”
Melvin laughed. “Well, I’m not. But I do want to see you happy again.”
Roman scratched his chin. He went over to the woodstove and poked the fire with a metal pole, allowing the air to circulate around the logs, and soon the fire grew bright. What if Lizzie needed more space? What if he smothered her too fast? He put down the metal rod and swept up the ashes that fell out. He’d heard his mamm encourage Lavina over the dinner table, telling her God would give her beauty for ashes. He’d have to trust that in time, his relationship with Lizzie would be something honoring to God and his late wife. A story his girls would find beautiful. Maybe a story his girls could be a part of; a part of Lizzie’s healing.
~*~
Roman pulled into Miller’s Variety the next morning, after dropping his girls off at school, and visiting Smicksburg Florist; they had lots of purple flowers to pick from, Lizzie’s favorite color. A purple ribbon was tied around them, like he’d always done when they were courting.
In her letter she’d put in the woodpecker hole eleven years ago, she’d said to come to her with wildflowers tied in a ribbon if he forgave her…and didn’t reject her. He bowed his head in silent prayer before entering the store, asking for God’s strength. When he opened the door he was relieved that the store was empty; most likely people were doing their morning chores. He saw Lizzie measuring out spices into little bags by the scale and Jonas was nowhere in sight.
She looked up at him, eyes more timid than Tillie in a crowd. Was he doing the right thing?
“Morning, Lizzie,” he said. “Can I talk to you private like?”
She looked more intently at her spices. “Something wrong?”
“Nee, but it’s serious.”
Lizzie nodded and motioned for him to come into the house. He followed and when entering the kitchen the smell of pastries wafted from the stove. “Want some muffins? They should be done.”
Roman cleared his throat and took the bouquet of flowers from behind him. “Lizzie, these are for you.”
A puzzled look spread across her face. “Danki, so unexpected. Flowers in winter.”
He noticed she wouldn’t make eye contact with him as she took the flowers. He sat at the table. “Muffins sound goot.”
“Do you want coffee?”
“Nee…”
“So, what do you want to talk about?”
Roman lowered his head and clenched the fists he had on the table. “Lizzie, can you ever forgive me?”
“For what?”
He looked over and searched her face. The flowers obviously didn’t bring back any memories to her; of their courtship or the letter. “Lizzie, sit down.”
She sat across from him and he reached for her hands. They were as cold as ice and stiff. “Years ago, when you broke off our engagement, I was a proud man. I thought only of myself, and couldn’t see your pain.”
He noticed the color drain from her face. “Roman, what are you saying?”
He tightened his grip on her. “I found the letter in the oak tree when you were in Lancaster.”
“What letter? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Roman studied her face. She didn’t remember writing the note? He had it in his pocket. Should he show it to her? The bewildered look on her face told him that he should. He placed the letter in her hand, and watched in horror as her face became contorted as she read it. She shook her head and crumbled up the letter, and then ran to the sink, holding her stomach.
He got up and spotted her from the back, afraid she’d collapse. He put his hands on her shoulders and felt her tremble, and caught her in time, as she fell backwards, fainting in his arms. He picked her up and carried her to the padded bench and propped her head up with a pillow. Maybe his daed was right! He needed to move in pace with nature…
He ran to the icebox and saw there was orange juice. He poured a glass and raised her head, trying to wake her up. Her eyes opened, wild looking, and he put the glass to her lips. She took a sip and he encouraged her to drink the juice, and she did.
She sat up and he took her hand, sitting next to her. “Lizzie, it wasn’t your fault.”
“R-Roman, you never knew until now?”
“Jah...”
She held her middle again and pain was etched on her face. He rubbed her back and she moved away. “Roman, this is hard…”
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known I-“
“Jacob waited for seven years for Rachael…”
“I know…”
“You couldn’t wait a few months.” She turned to him. “Roman, I was in counseling in Lancaster. I’ve come to realize you never really loved me…“
“That’s not true. I was selfish and immature. When you acted so cold toward me, I thought you found someone else. My pride was hurt, and like I said, was blind to see you were really hurting.” He reached for her, yearning to hold her, but she pushed him away.
“Lizzie, I’m asking you to forgive me and give me another chance.”
She looked at him, eyes hollow. “Roman, I forgive you. Jah, I do.”
“So we can court again?”
Her eyes grew round. “Court?”
Roman took her hand. “Jah, I never stopped caring for you Lizzie. And we’re different people now. I’ve seen tragedy and so have you. We’re more mature…”
“I’m go
ing through quite a lot. Since I talked about my secret to a counselor in Lancaster, I’m going through what they call the grieving process. Grieving over all I’ve lost because of the assault. One minute I’m fine, the next in tears or angry. It’s going to be a long journey…”
“And I can be there to walk beside you.” He pulled the card the girls made Lizzie out of his coat pocket. “The girls and I would like to have you over for dinner. Here’s their invitation.”
Lizzie took the homemade card and nodded her head. “I’d like to come…”
~*~
Dear Granny,
Sorry I haven’t written. I’ve been so busy taking care of the little ones. The flu hit our house something awful, and my mamm was in bed for several days.
It was hard saying good-bye after spending a week with you. My daed says he’s trying to forgive me of my immoral ways, but still treats me like I’m Mary Magdalene, the prostitute in the Bible. My mamm’s a comfort though, always saying she believes me.
I hope to come to Smicksburg soon. I love talking to you and Jeb. I wished he was my daed.
I like what you wrote to me, that God can give me beauty for ashes. But it does seem impossible. My name is so tainted by sin here in Troutville, and now people in Smicksburg know I’m the unwed mamm of the twins.
How are Moses and Vina? Ella touched my heart in naming the girl after me. She said I can visit, only if I make arrangements first, and have a place to stay. She and Zach don’t want the kinner confused as to who the real mamm is, and the real mamm is Ella, for sure.
Well, I hope to visit soon, and if there’s anything I can do for you, just write.
Lavina
Granny held the letter to her heart. She knew exactly what Lavina could do for her and Maryann. She heard Jack barking and soon saw a small red car coming down her driveway, kicking up snow behind it. The English are always in a hurry.
When the car pulled up to the house, she saw a lady with bright red hair and remembered Marge’s letter. She’d said she’d stop by to visit, wanting to see the inside of an Amish house. When she met her in the waiting room at the hospital, she was amused at the woman’s desire to live like the Amish, as if their lives were simple; if she only knew how complicated life in the Amish world really could be.
She met Marge at the door and tried to keep a straight face. The animated woman was almost jumping for joy that she was going to be in an Amish house.
“Come in Marge. Goot to see you again.”
Marge rushed at her and took her hands. “I’m going to see an Amish house. I can’t believe it.” She slowly looked around, taking in her surroundings. She looked over at the pendulum clock and sighed. “It’s so quiet in here, and so clean.”
“I scrubbed the floors the other day,” Granny said.
“Nee, I mean it’s not cluttered. Do you only put clocks on the walls? No pictures?”
“We put up calendars and shelves for things we need. But washing walls is easier with little on them.”
“And these wooden floors are so gorgeous. Wide planked and all.”
“Well, my sons built this house and got a goot price from the sawmill. I picked oak because it shines real nice when polished.”
“I love it. I feel like I need to go home and throw out half my house. I have too much.” She looked over at the black wood burning stove. “So, you cook in this and it heats the house too?”
“Nee, that one’s for heat. Just full of logs burning.” She walked over to her stove in the kitchen and Marge followed. She opened the black door to show some muffins that were baking. “This is my stove. It’s propane powered. We changed the Ordnung.”
“The what?”
“Ach, I’m sorry. It’s German for rules or order. Our church has one and we vote on new things every year, around Easter. Last year we were allowed propane powered stoves and refrigerators. ” She walked over to her icebox and fondly touched the wooden front. “I won’t part with my icebox though. It was my mamm’s and Jeb likes cutting ice too much.”
Marge gawked at Granny. “Cut ice? What do you mean?”
“He’s doing it now. The men dam up a creek to make a pond and the men cut it into blocks. Then we haul the ice to our icehouse.” Granny pulled Marge to a window facing the back of the house. “See that little white building? It’s full of ice, some of it’s a few years old.”
Marge shook her head. “So much work. I’d get a propane refrigerator if I were you.”
“Well, like I said, my husband enjoys cutting the ice. He’s been doing it with the same group of men for years, and it gets him closer to his fish.”
“His fish?”
“Jah, the men ice fish for a while and then cut up ice. He got two fish yesterday.”
Marge sighed. “I knew I wouldn’t be disappointed. You Amish know how to really live. I never knew you ice fished. Do the Amish hunt too?”
Granny furrowed her brow. “Of course. Most English men hunt, jah?”
“Nee, not really. I know my husband would love to, but we don’t have land.”
“You should buy the farm down the road. Herds of deer in the fields and you’d have venison year round.”
“Could I see it? The house for sale?”
“After you show me that moving map in your car. I’m curious about that.”
“The GPS still amazes me.”
“Well, sit down and have some muffins and tea before we go. Mighty cold outside.”
~*~
Ella sat in her rocker holding Vina while she gently rocked the cradle floor with her foot. She looked down at Moses and then the cradle. Zach started making it the night he found out about the possible adoption. If he’d known they were getting twins, he probably would have finished the second one the next day. But the twins were a surprise, and he hadn’t had any free time to make another cradle. He didn’t have time for her…
She willed back tears. They’d fought bitterly after she returned from the knitting circle. Harsh words were spoken so quickly, but now, two days later, she still hadn’t recovered. How could Zach yell at her in such a tone? About dinner being burnt of all things. She’d improved her cooking skills over their seven years of marriage, but Zach used to laugh over a roast that turned out like charcoal.
Yes, he had his brother on his mind too, but Luke was acting calmer that Zach now. She took a deep breath and blew out air slowly. She’d have to forgive Zach and forget his cross words. She heard the door open downstairs and then someone stomping snow off boots. Zach was home. A knot formed in her stomach and her heart lunged into her throat. Was it already four o’clock? She thought it was two at the latest. She quickly read the letter of encouragement Maryann sent her:
Dear Ella,
When you think you might lose your life, the people in it seem all the more precious. I want you to know how sorry I am for being judgmental toward you. How you’ve treated Lavina is how I should have. You were kind and I was not. Ella, I admire you for your kindness. It’s one of those fruits of the spirit I need to water. Your love and patience are a great source of strength to me.
Please be kind to yourself as a new mother. It’s a big adjustment having kinner. It’s exhausting and Michael and I have had spats just for that reason. Rest and take care of yourself so you have something to offer your family. Sit down and knit sometime or bake your favorite pie.
Please try to stop by and visit on Saturday or Sunday. I need to see my friends before surgery.
Your Loving Friend,
Maryann
She heard Zach come up the steps, taking two at a time. When he entered their bedroom, she could tell he was irritated with her again.
“Ella, no dinner again? We had leftovers last night.”
“Why don’t we go to the Country Junction?”
He took off his black wool hat and flicked off snow that was on the brim. “It’s too cold to take the twins out.”
“No it’s not. We can put a hot brick under the buggy robe and it’s such a short
drive.”
“You need to get more organized, Ella. Think about what you’re going to make in the morning, like my mamm used to.”
Ella bit her lower lip and handed Maryann’s letter to him. He grabbed it and skimmed over the words. “Zach, I think we need to take Maryann’s advice since she has eight kinner. We need more rest. We don’t even rest on the Sabbath anymore.”
She was glad to see peace settle in Zach’s eyes. He’d been so unnerved by Lavina showing up on Old Christmas, and then living with Jeb and Granny. Fear had gripped them that she’d want the twins back. Lavina went back to Troutville two weeks ago, but had an invitation to come to Granny’s anytime.
“Zach, are you afraid. Afraid we’ll lose the twins?”
“I don’t trust Lavina’s daed. He seems squirrely to me.” He sat in the rocker near her. “I guess I am. My nerves have taken a beating and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry.”
She reached for his hand, thinking of how Maryann said her kindness gave her strength. “You need more rest.”
“Jeb said we need to treat ourselves like we’d like to be treated.”
Ella shook her head. “What?”
“We’re supposed to treat ourselves goot. Not be too hard on ourselves or each other.”
Ella lifted up Vina and kissed her cheek. “So then let’s treat ourselves to a dinner at the Country Junction.”
Zach grinned. “Okay, and then I’ll treat myself to a dessert or two. I miss your pies.”
~*~
Granny didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Marge pulled the car into the driveway of the farm for sale. She gasped for air. “You English drive too fast.”
Marge frowned. “I was going the speed limit. I was going slow for you.”
“Ach, must be my age. Tend to slow down in all ways once you’re ready to turn seventy.”
When do you turn the big 7-0?”
“February 14th. Jeb always says I was born on Valentine’s Day for a reason. I’m always trying to match people up. I love to see people in love get married.”
“That is so sweet. Do the Amish celebrate Valentine’s Day?”
“Well, not really. Jeb gets me a heart full of candy from the store though.”
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 16