by Price, Sarah
“You might as well wait until the tenants in the main house leave,” Mimi sighed as they walked back toward Steve’s parents’ house. “That grossdaadihaus will never get fixed up!”
Steve looked at her, surprised by her defeatist attitude. They had really no choice other than to fix it up. After all, he told himself, one day they would live in that grossdaadihaus when their own children would be married and needed the main house to raise their families. But he didn’t point this out to her.
“Now, now,” he said, trying to reassure her with his upbeat and positive perspective. “Have faith, my fraa. I can have the downstairs fixed up by Christmas! It will just take a lot of time and extra hard work on all of our parts.”
The expression on her face told him what he needed to know: She didn’t believe him.
When they returned to the Fisher farm, Steve sat down at the table with a pen and paper, eager to draft out his plan for fixing up the grossdaadihaus in order to live with his wife, rather than only see her on the weekends.
His father joined him at the table, drinking a cup of coffee while listening to Steve’s plans. He had happily volunteered to assist in the project, given that November and December were slow months on the farm. Miriam also listened as she bustled about the kitchen, preparing the dinner meal.
“We’ll measure the windows today after dinner,” Steve said to his father.
“You say there’s mold, ja?” Elias glanced up at Miriam. “Good scrubbing with bleach would take care of that.”
“Nee,” Steve said as he shook his head. “Need to tear down the plaster and replace the insulation, I’m sure. Don’t want to take any chances.”
Elias nodded his head in agreement with his son’s decision.
“Mayhaps I could tear some down after the two o’clock milking,” Steve wondered aloud.
Elias raised an eyebrow. “By the time you finish, it will be time for the evening milking over here, ja?”
No one seemed to notice Mimi’s discomfort with the subject and her reluctance to participate in the discussion. She watched the exchange, her eyes darting from Elias to Steve and back again. She felt as if she were watching a volleyball game. She felt out of place, listening to their conversation while Miriam bustled about the kitchen preparing the meal. She had offered to help her mother-in-law but Miriam seemed to have it all under control.
“Mayhaps after the milking then,” Steve said.
Miriam glanced up. “Won’t you be visiting, then? You know you have so many people to see.” It was, after all, a tradition to visit family after getting married.
Again, Steve shook his head. “Nee, not this weekend.” He glanced down at the list on his paper. “Reckon I’ll have time tonight to rip down that plaster and see what’s behind the wall.” He glanced at Mimi and smiled. “We’ll do it together, ja? Start building our first home.”
She forced a smile in response. However, deep down, she wished that he would take her for a buggy ride instead. Working on such a taxing project wasn’t exactly how she had anticipated spending their first weekend of their marriage.
Melvin shuffled through the desk in the kitchen. He kept glancing over his shoulder, anticipating someone walking in and asking him what he was looking for. It was simple, really: a plain envelope, a pen, and a stamp. Yet, his heart raced as he sorted through papers and opened drawers, trying to locate those three items.
When he finally found the three items, in the bottom drawer of all places, he quickly took his bounty upstairs to his bedroom. He had returned from school and waited until Mary Ruth and the girls had busied themselves with something in the basement…sorting canned goods he thought he had overheard them talking about as they climbed down the rickety staircase. That had been his moment.
Now, as he sat upstairs on his bed, his back to the door, he stared at the white envelope. I can do this, he told himself. With a nervous hand, he began to write on the front of the envelope:
Katie Fisher
Box 201
Leola, PA
He assessed his penmanship, hoping that it was his best. It looked good to him but he worried that Katie might find fault with it. After all, Melvin didn’t know much about how girls reacted to being courted. He imagined that Katie would get the envelope and wonder who sent her something. When she opened it and read the note, she would swoon with adoration for Melvin Yoder, knowing that only Melvin could send such a missive. Despite being so young, they would wait until rumschpringe and then Melvin would take her home from each and every singing until they were old enough to take the kneeling vow and marry.
Yes, he thought. That’s exactly what will happen!
Satisfied with the address, he flipped over the envelope and slid his finger under the flap on the back. He reached into his back pocket and carefully withdrew a slip of paper. He unfolded it and his eyes darted over the neat handwriting:
Do everything in love.
1 Corinthian 16:43
He smiled as he refolded the paper and slipped it inside of the envelope. Then, with trembling hands, he licked the envelope and pressed the flap so that the envelope was properly sealed. He would slip it into the mailbox right away, knowing that the mailman didn’t deliver anything until close to four o’clock. He’d pretend to be going out for the mail since it was up to the kinner to bring in the mail. If he timed it proper like, no one would ever know he mailed the letter to Katie and, for sure and certain, she would have it by the next day.
Earlier that day, Melvin had found the yellow note inside the ceramic coffee mug when he had wandered sleepily into the barn to help his daed with the milking. Curiosity had gotten the best of him. When Melvin had peeked at the note, immediately, an idea was born. If this was how adults courted, Melvin could do the same with Katie! He had hesitated before slipping the note into his back pocket, his heart pounding from taking something that clearly was not intended for his own use. But, he had rationalized, his daed and Mary Ruth were already married. No need for them to keep courting. And so the note was now being sent to Katie from a secret admirer with the hope that she would quickly realize how important Melvin felt about their relationship.
“Melvin!”
He jumped at the sound of Mary Ruth calling him from downstairs. Slipping the envelope into his back pocket, he quickly hurried out of his room and raced down the stairs. “Ja?”
“Reckon you should go on outside to see what your daed needs. It’s cold tonight and he’ll need some help.”
Melvin nodded and grabbed his coat before slipping out of the door. The cold air hit him and he caught his breath. It clung to his lungs. He ran as fast as he could, first to the mailbox where he glanced around before he reached into his pocket to extract the folded envelope. He ran his hands along the crease, hoping to make it less noticeable before he placed it into the mailbox and pushed up the red flag.
His heart was pounding and, for just a split second, he contemplated snatching the envelope and ripping it into a dozen little pieces.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he turned and ran to the barn, knowing that the mailman would come within the next half an hour and the letter would be gone. He tried to imagine Katie’s face when she opened the letter and read the verse. Certainly she would know that the secret admirer was Melvin. She had said they could be pen pals, he told himself. This was a perfect way to start.
For the next hour, Melvin mucked the dairy, loading the manure into a wagon to drag to the outside holding area. In the winter, his daed would spread that manure on the fields, the nutrients seeping into the ground and helping to produce good crops in the spring and summer. Melvin wondered if his daed would let him help drive the team this year.
“Daed,” he asked cautiously. “Katie told me at Steve’s wedding that they’ll be moving Butterscotch over to her daed’s farm this weekend.”
His father barely even glanced up from where he was milking the last cow in the barn.
“I…I was wondering if I might ride alo
ng with them,” Melvin stuttered. “If you don’t be needing me for chores and such.”
Menno looked up. “How would you get back here?”
Melvin shrugged. “Mayhaps Mamm could pick me up? That way she’d be able to visit with her family.” He paused. “Mayhaps she’s a bit homesick, ja?”
The boy’s question caused Menno to pause. For a moment, he looked deep in thought, a furrow creasing his brow. Melvin worried that his daed would argue that Melvin had no business going over to the Fisher farm. But he was surprised for his father finally nodded his head.
“Ja vell,” Menno said slowly. “I reckon I could take you both over there in the afternoon.”
Melvin wondered why his daed would take time to drive them to Mary Ruth’s house when Mary Ruth was certainly capable of doing that herself. However, Melvin wasn’t about to ask. He had the answer that he wanted. He would be able to see Katie that weekend and, hopefully, gauge her reaction to the letter he had just sent. That thought alone warmed his heart.
Back inside the house, Menno glanced at Mary Ruth before he approached the sink to wash his hands. He noticed how she stepped aside to give him room. He didn’t look at her as he turned on the faucet and reached for the soap. The kinner were sitting at the table, waiting for him to finish in order to say the prayer and start the evening meal.
“Melvin wants to go see Katie and that pony tomorrow,” Menno said stiffly. “Reckon you might want to ride along then? See your family?”
“Oh,” she gasped quietly. “I would like that, Menno.”
She handed him a hand towel and smiled at him. He paused as he reached for it, his eyes narrowed as he studied her face. The change in her demeanor surprised him. Gone were the sad, downcast eyes. Instead, there was now a look of happiness on her face, one that he hadn’t seen since before their marriage.
Perhaps that is it after all, Menno thought. She’s homesick.
Menno looked away, his mind quickly trying to go over the events from the past few days. Could that be the root of the problem, he wondered. Was his new wife merely homesick? Missing her family so much that it was negatively impacting the beginning of their marriage? The courtship had been rather fast and she hadn’t had much time to adapt to the idea of being his wife. Perhaps a visit home would make everything right as rain once again.
“We can head over after dinner tomorrow, then,” he said. Without another word, he sat down at the head of the table, waited for Mary Ruth to take her place, and then bowed his head, silently thanking the good Lord for the food that was before them and adding a special prayer that the visit to her parents’ home would bring him back the young woman he had started falling in love with.
Chapter 3: Leah’s Letter
Dear Family,
…
Blessings,
Leah
Leah stared at the letter, tapping her index finger nervously on the edge of the table, as if she were listening to a rhythmic tune; but there was no such tune to be listened to, even in her mind, for this was not the way of the Amish The blank page stared back at her, practically asking for Leah’s slightly slant and elegant handwriting to jot down something on it. Yet she had no idea what to write to her family. Not for the lack of wanting to, but they had seen so much of each other recently that she felt everyone was caught up on the periphery news. It was the deeper news that bothered Leah. The news she wanted to share but just couldn’t. Not with the extended family.
Indeed, how could she tell them that her husband avoided their home? Jonah spent his entire days in the fields, even though there wasn’t much work required during this particular time of year. Then he would spend his evenings in the barn, making up chores to do rather than share time inside the house with his family.
And when he did come inside…
Leah shuddered.
When he did come inside, well he was overly critical of everything. Her food. The messy kitchen. The dirty floors. The baby. Especially the baby, she reckoned. It pained her heart to admit it but admit it she had to: Baby Caleb was unloved by his daed. At least it appeared that way. It was all that Leah could do to make up for the lack of fatherly affection by smothering her baby with extra love and attention. After all, it wasn’t Caleb’s fault that he had Down syndrome.
Unfortunately, that came with a price.
The chores were left to the older kinner who seemed to do the bare minimum before disappearing. So the kitchen remained a mess, the floors stayed dirty, and the baby persisted in having those special needs that required all of Leah’s time.
No, there was nothing new or exciting to write on that blank piece of paper. Leah knew that right away. She resented most of these circle letters, letters that always emphasized the good and hid the bad. She had come to systematically wonder about what wasn’t being said in these letters. In particular, she wondered what Mary Ruth would write when it would be her turn. Oh, indeed, Leah had seen her youngest sister just the other day at Steve’s wedding. Mary Ruth had looked none too happy, that was for sure and certain.
Serves her right, Leah scoffed. Marrying that Menno Yoder so quick after his first wife died! And, with Elijah fighting the cancer, Menno would have made a right better match with Rachel! Why, that feisty Mary Ruth just snatched Menno from under their older sister’s nose, it appeared
“Seems I’m not the only one with issues,” Leah mumbled to herself.
“Issues?”
Leah jumped, startled by his presence. She had been unaware that Jonah had walked into the room and was observing her from the doorway. The kinner were at school and Caleb was napping. Indeed, Leah had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t heard Jonah enter through the back door.
He stormed over to the table. “You writing one of those circle letters again?” He snatched the paper from the table and stared at it, his eyes narrow and sharp. “There’s nothing written on here!”
Leah took a deep breath and reached up to retrieve the paper. “That’s right,” she said. “Nothing on the paper because there is nothing to say.”
Jonah shook his head. “Leah, you need to get your act together. Instead of writing silly letters, you need to take charge of this house. I’m tired of living in filth and squalor. That baby is sleeping right now. Why are you writing letters instead of tending to your chores? Tend to the needs of this family, not your other family.”
Leah’s mouth fell open. How dare he, she thought. But she knew better than to lash out at him. That was not the place of a woman to argue with her husband. And, from the scowl on Jonah’s face, she knew that any argument on her behalf would be met with fury.
“You clean this kitchen, Leah. It’s been months since it’s been cleaned proper like!”
“The baby will be…”
He held up his hand, interrupting her. “‘Will be’ is future, Leah. That’s just an excuse. You can wash the morning dishes and clean the counters. When Caleb awakens, you don’t have to sit and hold him all day. He can stay in the playpen while you scrub this floor. It’s unfit for a baby to crawl on, anyway!”
She gasped out loud.
Jonah shook his head and snatched the package of letters and her pad of paper. “There will be no more excuses, Leah,” he said. “And no more of the writing until I see some progress in this here house!” He shook the package at her face to emphasize that she wasn’t getting the envelope back until he was satisfied.
Fighting back her tears, Leah stood up and hurried over to the sink. In all of their years together, Jonah had never spoken to her in such a harsh manner. In fact, the past months had been spent in a quiet silence; a silence full of disdain and contempt. And now she knew why: He thought she had turned lazy after having Baby Caleb. He simply didn’t understand that a special needs infant does indeed require more care than others. As always, she thought, no one understands me, not even my own husband.
Mimi stood outside of the back door to the store. It was cold outside but the crisp, cold air felt refreshing against her cheeks. H
er eyes scanned the farm fields behind her parents’ house. Everything was bare and gray, an exact reflection of how she was feeling on the inside. Even the overcast sky mirrored her own emotions: dark, gloomy, and plain old unattractive.
All of a sudden, she felt the urge to cry. She was so frustrated with the beginning days of her marriage to Steve. It wasn’t anything at all like she had thought it would be. Their first weekend together had been all about work, chores and new tasks. There was very little time for them to spend together and certainly not alone. Not the best start of a marriage, she pondered.
Five times a day, Steve milked cows. Twice with his daed and then every ten hours at his own farm. She had never heard of anyone milking cows every ten hours instead of every twelve.
“Every ten hours means more milk and more income”, he had explained. But that also meant an irregular milking schedule, one that had him leave their bedroom for the dairy barn at the wee hours of the night, awakening her in the process. Not to mention the two other milkings at his dead’s farm. And then, there was that other issue: Any spare minute that was available, Steve spent it over at the grossdaadihaus, starting to tear down the plaster and replace the insulation Last week, when he had finally returned home on Saturday night, he had collapsed into bed and immediately fell asleep. Was this what married life was supposed to be about?
Oh, Mimi had offered to help with the cows several times, but when she would walk over to Steve’s farm, it was so freezing cold that the air simply chilled her to the bones. Then, inside the dairy, she could barely see a thing, despite the lanterns being lit. He had to show her how to milk the cows and, with the bitterly cold air that froze her hands and left her fingers numb, she had a real hard time getting the hang of it.