by Sarah Price
“Why, that’s a wunderbarr idea!” Martha started to shuffle away but hesitated. Turning back, she waved her hand at Jonas. “You just move that chair to where I showed you, Jonas, while I go fetch those cleaning supplies for”—she paused and smiled—“just Rachel.”
Jonas stifled a laugh.
“It’s not funny,” Rachel hissed through a clenched jaw at Jonas. “She thinks I’m your special friend.”
He sobered. “Well, she does have a point. You are sorta a friend—”
“Am not!”
He ignored her interruption as they walked over to the chair. “—and God made everyone special.” Placing his hands under the arm of the bulky chair, he hesitated, waiting for her to do the same. “Especially you, I’m finding.”
Leaning over the chair, Rachel braced herself to pick it up. “Oh, don’t you get any fancy ideas, Jonas Esh.”
Instead of denying it, he laughed once more, but then he turned his attention to the chair. “Ready, Rachel? One . . . two . . . three.”
With the two of them lifting, the chair wasn’t as heavy as she had anticipated. Carefully, they moved it from the sitting room into the sunroom, placing it in a spot near the back-corner window so that Martha could look outside and watch the birth of spring. Rachel took a step backward and assessed the position of the chair.
“Nee, I think not,” she said, a finger pressed against her cheek. “Mayhaps more to the right. And tilted a bit. Then she’ll get a better view.”
Jonas leaned against the chair. “That’s not what she said she wanted.”
With an exasperated sigh, Rachel faced him, her hands upon her hips. “Now, Jonas, don’t you think I know better? If she wants a good view, it needs to move to the right and be angled.”
Begrudgingly, he dragged the chair into the position she’d indicated, but not before he snuck in a quick eye roll and mumbled, “Okay, okay, Miss Sassy.”
“Oh my!”
They both turned around and saw Martha standing there, a bucket in one hand and a roll of paper towels in the other.
“Is that okay?” Jonas asked. “Because we can move it back, if you prefer.”
Rachel shot him a stern look.
“Nee, that’s just perfect.” Martha shuffled over to the chair, pausing to hand the bucket to Jonas and the paper towels to Rachel. Only then did she sink into the chair and lean backward. She leaned over and pressed a large, black, disc-shaped button. Slowly, the chair reclined and a footrest appeared beneath her feet. “Why, I could just sit here all day,” Martha sighed, “and watch those birds. Such a shame I didn’t put seed in the feeders yet.”
A momentary silence filled the room. Rachel caught Jonas’s eye and gestured with her head. It took him a minute to understand what she was trying to communicate, but he finally nodded.
“Say, Martha,” he began, “tell me where that seed is and I’ll fill your bird feeder while Rachel tends to the windows.”
The woman opened her eyes. “Would you truly do that?”
Jonas gave a little laugh. “It’s no bother. Really.”
“Such a kind boy,” Martha muttered. She turned her attention to Rachel. “He pretends he’s a scoundrel, you know,” she whispered, even though Jonas stood right there and could most definitely hear. “But underneath that indolent, mischievous exterior, there’s a tenderhearted, sensitive, and righteous man.”
“Shh!” Jonas said. “Don’t give away my secrets, Martha!”
They both laughed, and after Martha told him where he’d find the birdseed in her shed, he hurried out of the room.
Feeling uncomfortable being alone with the older woman, especially because Rachel knew Martha thought she was courting Jonas, she turned her attention to the windows. As she cleaned the first panes, she saw Jonas jog across the yard and disappear into the garden shed. When he emerged, he carried the bag of birdseed slung over his shoulder, and in his other hand, he held three empty bird feeders.
Curiosity got the best of Rachel and she watched as he went about filling the feeders that were already hanging from various trees before he added the new ones he’d brought with him. He clustered the feeders around the yard, but all of them were in line with Martha’s view.
Rachel took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on cleaning the windows. But her eyes were drawn back to Jonas again and again. Was it possible that there might be some truth to what Martha had said about him?
Just then, he must have caught sight of her watching him. He removed his hat and gave a dramatic bow as if he were performing just for her. When he stood up, he winked at her and waved.
She rolled her eyes. Just when she had thought there might actually be another side to Jonas, he proved her wrong. He’d also proved that Martha Schultz had no idea what she was talking about. Jonas Esh was nothing more than a high-spirited, mischievous boy. Clearly there was nothing tenderhearted, sensitive, or righteous about him at all!
All the same, Rachel couldn’t help but take a last peek out the window, her eyes watching as Jonas sauntered out of sight. If it was true, she wondered, that he wasn’t tenderhearted and sensitive and a good God-fearing man, then why did she suddenly get a warm, tingly feeling when she heard his footsteps on the porch a few seconds later?
ELLA MAE
CHAPTER 36
With Rachel away from the house, Ella Mae waited for the perfect moment to speak to her mother. Her father had gone next door to play checkers with his friend, and Wilma was sitting in her recliner, her feet propped up on the footrest. She clutched her devotional in her hand, but Ella Mae could tell she wasn’t really concentrating on it.
“Maem?”
Her mother looked up, appearing almost relieved at the interruption.
“You have a minute to talk?”
Clapping the book shut, Wilma pushed her legs down so that the footrest retracted and she was sitting straight up in the chair. “Of course, Ella Mae.” She waved the book in her hand. “I’ve read this book so many times, I practically know it by heart anyway.”
“You should get a new one.”
Wilma waved her hand at Ella Mae. “Why do that when I have this one?”
For a split second, Ella Mae almost responded, but, quickly, she decided to drop the subject. Otherwise, her mother would explain the logic behind her statement, and by the time she finished, Rachel would most likely be home. No, it was best to table that discussion and focus on the important conversation she wanted to have with her mother.
“I have a question,” Ella Mae started, sitting down on the edge of the rocking chair next to her mother. “It’s important.”
Wilma’s eyes widened. “Oh?”
“Ja, very important. I need advice, but I don’t want anyone else to know I spoke to you about this.”
Leaning forward, Wilma peered into Ella Mae’s face. She wore a solemn expression as she responded with a soft, “I can promise that.”
Satisfied, Ella Mae took a deep breath. She wasn’t certain how to begin the conversation. All night, she had tried different approaches in her head, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject of her feelings for the young man her own twin sister fancied. She hadn’t slept much, because she hadn’t found any comfortable way of confessing her predicament.
“It has to do with Rachel.”
At this, Wilma caught her breath. “What has she done?”
“It’s not like that, Maem.” And then again, maybe it was, she thought. “Well, not like she actually did something. Maybe it’s what she didn’t do.”
Her mother scratched at the back of her neck. “Now I’m really curious.”
Suddenly, Ella Mae decided that she just had to talk, not try to present the situation in any other light than the truth. She moistened her lips and said a quick prayer for God to guide her words.
“Maem, Rachel didn’t behave properly with Jeremiah—”
Her mother gasped.
“Not like that,” Ella Mae exclaimed, realizing that her mother h
ad jumped to the wrong conclusion. “She wasn’t herself. She barely spoke to him, and she told him she liked volleyball when he took her to the youth gathering.”
Quickly, Wilma began to fan her face and fell backward into the chair. “Oh help.”
Ella Mae nodded. “Ja, exactly. And she injured some young man at the volleyball game. It was just a disaster, I reckon.”
Wilma shut her eyes and shook her head. “What was she thinking?”
“I don’t think she was, Maem.” Ella Mae hesitated before continuing. She’d role-played this in her mind over and over again, but as she sat with her mother, she realized that no amount of preparation could have readied her for this conversation. “Jeremiah doesn’t seem to want to get to know her anymore, not as a special friend.”
“Because of that?” Wilma asked.
Quickly, Ella Mae held up her hands as if to stop her mother from rushing to judgment. She certainly didn’t want her mother to dislike Jeremiah or think he was capricious. “Nee, Maem. Not because of the volleyball game. He felt they just didn’t . . .” She couldn’t think of the word and had to pause, searching for the right way to phrase it. “Well, they weren’t compatible,” she said at last. “Not like they should be.”
“What!” Wilma shot to her feet and began pacing the floor. She clutched her hands together, wringing them as she began talking. “Oh, that girl! What was she thinking? She always talks. She always has things to say.” She stopped and turned toward Ella Mae. “And volleyball!” She scoffed.
Once again, she began pacing, continuing her litany of complaints about Rachel’s situation. Quietly, Ella Mae sat there, feeling as if she were watching a volleyball game as her mother marched back and forth across the floor.
Suddenly, there was silence. Silence and no movement.
Ella Mae focused her eyes, too aware that her mother stood before her, a stern expression on her face.
“And how exactly”—she put her hands on her hips—“did you come about this information? I find it highly unlikely that Rachel is aware of this, and Jeremiah is too kind to say such a thing to her.”
Looking away, Ella Mae fumbled for words. “Oh, well, uh—” She fidgeted in her seat and realized that her mouth was completely dry.
“Spit it out, Ella Mae.”
Once again, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The moment of truth, she told herself. “Edna kept pushing me and Jeremiah together, Maem. And I wasn’t interested in him, honest I wasn’t. But I found him easy to talk with, and he felt the same way.”
Wilma flopped back into the recliner, tossing her hands into the air. “Oh help!”
“He’s asked to—”
“What? Asked to what, Ella Mae?” Wilma interrupted with a sharp tone in her voice.
“—to get to know me better.”
There, Ella Mae said to herself. It was out there now and she couldn’t take it back. She had to turn the entire situation over to God, let him guide her mother’s thoughts and words. She felt deflated, as if the conversation with her mother had physically drained her.
Wilma sat there staring at Ella Mae and blinking her eyes. She appeared to be processing Ella Mae’s words and, for once, didn’t have an immediate response. It wasn’t often that Wilma Schwartz was speechless, but this was one of those moments.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Ella Mae, her mother whispered, “Does your schwester know?”
“Nee, Maem. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it. I just don’t know what to do.”
Wilma gave a solemn nod and turned her gaze toward the window. “I see. So, you haven’t given Jeremiah permission to call on you?”
Shaking her head, Ella Mae said, “I don’t want to hurt Rachel.”
“Of course not,” Wilma mumbled as if speaking to herself and not to her daughter.
“She hasn’t said anything about Jeremiah since last week,” Ella Mae offered. “And I know that he hasn’t spoken so much as a word to her.”
“And with Edna’s encouragement,” Wilma pondered aloud, “his attention and affection has fallen upon you.”
Her shoulders drooped at her mother’s simple summary of the situation. “I just don’t know what to do, Maem.”
Her mother nodded her head several times, still staring out the window. It was clear she was thinking, trying to come up with a solution. Ella Mae knew her mother was as conflicted as she. Either way, one of her daughters would be hurt, and no mother wanted to inflict emotional pain and heartbreak on a child, no matter how young or old.
It took a long minute before Wilma turned her gaze back to Ella Mae. “I think you’ve done the honorable thing,” she said slowly. “And I commend you for that, Dochder. It’s not easy putting someone else’s needs ahead of your own. ‘To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice.’ Your decision to pray on this and seek advice rather than just follow your own desire demonstrates how much you care about your schwester.” Her lips twitched for a moment before she gave Ella Mae a soft smile. “And that pleases me, Ella Mae.”
Ella Mae bowed her head. She hadn’t consulted with her mother for praise, but for advice. She hoped her mother didn’t suspect her of seeking compliments.
“And if Jeremiah truly wants to get to know you better,” Wilma continued slowly, “and you return that desire, I think you should agree.”
Immediately, Ella Mae jerked her head upward and stared at Wilma. She hadn’t expected those words. “But—”
Wilma held up her hand. “No buts, Ella Mae. However, I do think you might wait a short while and have a conversation with Rachel first. Courtship can be conducted in secret, of course, but she needs to learn of any serious intentions from your lips, not the community’s.”
Oh, why was it Sunday? Ella Mae could hardly count down the days until she returned to the Esh farm. She wanted to tell Jeremiah the good news about her mother’s advice. Wednesday had never felt so far away.
EDNA
CHAPTER 37
“Ella Mae, would you mind running this pitcher of meadow tea to Jonas?”
The guests had just left Wednesday’s gathering at Edna’s house, but everything was already cleaned up. Verna, Mary, and Wilma were arriving any minute so that they could bake their cookies for Yoders’ Store, and Edna wanted to be sure the baking supplies were on the table and counter. The less time spent pulling out flour, sugar, vanilla, and other dry goods, the more time they could spend visiting.
After the busy week leading up to MayFest, the number of tourists always decreased, if only for a week or two. Most of the people who came to Shipshewana in May planned their visits around MayFest or Memorial Day. In between the two weekends, things tended to slow down just enough to give her a moment to catch her breath. Indeed, Edna was thankful for the break, especially now that she had so much on her mind. Just as important, she was looking forward to a non-stressful afternoon with her friends.
So, when she asked Ella Mae to take the pitcher to Jonas, she was surprised that Ella Mae didn’t respond. Not at first, anyway. When Edna looked up, she noticed Ella Mae was staring at her, a curious expression on her face. For a split second, Edna wondered if she’d said something untoward. She had said Ella Mae and not Rachel, hadn’t she?
Ever since Saturday, Edna had been trying to think of ways to remedy her mismatched romantic scheming. On Sunday, Elmer had noticed that she was extra quiet, and on the ride back from his cousins’ house, he’d finally confronted her.
To say that she’d felt embarrassed to admit the truth was an understatement.
“Edna Esh,” he’d scolded in a firm but gentle tone. “How many times have I told you—”
She held up her hands. “I know, I know,” she said, cutting him off. She didn’t need to be reminded of her mix-ups. “Lesson learned. Now I just need to figure out how to make it right again.”
Elmer had raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together. “Uh-huh. Well, I see the lesson was not learned.”
“Oh, hush you.”
For the next two days, she’d fretted about the situation. It wasn’t until the early-morning hours of Wednesday when, as she lay awake in bed after another sleepless night, an idea had hit her. If she’d incorrectly pushed Rachel toward Jonas and Ella Mae toward Jeremiah, all she had to do was correct that effort. At least then there would be a chance to salvage one of the relationships.
The more she had thought about it, the more excited she had become.
Until now.
Ella Mae still hadn’t responded to Edna’s question.
“Is something wrong, Ella Mae?”
Finally, the young woman blinked and swallowed. “Nee, nothing is wrong, Edna.” She moved toward the proffered pitcher, her eyes sneaking a quick peek in Rachel’s direction.
“Oh, never you mind,” Rachel said with a dramatic sigh and a stern look in Ella Mae’s direction. She wiped her hands on her black apron and then marched over to Edna. “I’ll take it.” She extended her hand and waited, a determined look in her eyes.
In stunned silence, Edna handed her the pitcher. Without another word, Rachel turned and started to walk toward the door. But then she paused, thoughtfully retreating to the sink, where she picked up a cup from the drying rack to bring with the tea.
“Oh my,” Edna whispered to herself as the door shut behind Rachel. What was that about? She looked at Ella Mae, who appeared just as flabbergasted as Edna felt. “Well then.”
Ella Mae raised her eyebrows.
“I reckon that settles that.” Edna returned her attention to the pantry where she stored her baking goods in an attempt to look busy. Her mind, however, was trying to process what had just happened. Clearly Ella Mae had not wanted to take the tea to Jonas, while, despite her constant bickering with him, Rachel had no qualms about doing so. In fact, despite the appearance of being annoyed by the task, there had been something in her eyes, a glow, that said otherwise.
It dawned on her that maybe Wilma had been incorrect on Saturday when she’d claimed Edna had pushed Rachel toward the wrong son. While she had no doubt that Rachel had favored Jeremiah at some point over the past few weeks, perhaps her affections had shifted from one brother to the other. Perhaps Edna had successfully matched the two of them after all.