by Sarah Price
“Oh, I’m not so certain I’ll like that house.”
“I’m just glad I don’t have to live next to it!”
She laughed and he reached under the blanket to hold her hand.
The warmth of his fingers entwined with hers gave her tingles. It was a thrilling feeling.
“I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by,” he said quietly.
“I . . . I don’t mind.” The truth was that she had been surprised to see him at the door, but it had been a happy surprise. With his work schedule at the auction house, she hadn’t expected to see him at all.
“I didn’t want to wait until Saturday.” He squeezed her hand. “Sure made for a long week last week.”
She smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Ja, I felt the same way.”
He turned his head to look at her. “Really?”
She nodded.
“I’m glad.” He loosened his grip on her hand, but still held it. “Listen, Bethany. I . . . I have some bad news.”
Immediately, Bethany tensed. What could possibly be wrong? “What is it, John?”
He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “I know how much you enjoy the school pageant, but I won’t be able to attend on Friday,” he said slowly. His thumb caressed the top of her hand.
“Oh.” She stared straight ahead, uncertain about how to respond. She didn’t even recall having told him how much she enjoyed the annual pageant, so she couldn’t imagine why he would think she expected him to attend. “That’s okay.”
“It’s the last auction before the Christmas break.” He sounded disappointed. “I would’ve liked to go with you.”
It would have been nice if he could’ve attended the pageant with her. She loved listening to the children singing and reciting Scripture. Sometimes they even reenacted the story of Jesus’ birth. And then, afterward, they’d all share cookies and pie, the perfect combination to celebrate Christmas.
“I’m sorry you’ll miss the pageant,” she said, genuinely meaning her words.
“Me, too. I haven’t been to one in several years. But I always remember how much fun they were when I was in school. And even after, I’d go to watch Jonas and Jeremiah.” He smiled at the memory. “It sure made this time of year feel even more special.”
That was exactly how she felt. Sometimes the teachers would decorate their schools with little clippings from a pine tree, tied to the window sash with pieces of red fabric. And there were always candles burning on the teacher’s desk and a table filled with sweets near the back of the room.
“But after this year,” John said, “I won’t miss any more.”
Bethany’s eyes widened. “Oh? Why’s that?”
He squeezed her hand. “Just a feeling, I reckon.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes until John slowed the horse and turned the buggy down a side road.
“Here. The bright house is just up ahead.”
Bethany looked at the small community of Englische houses, all of them lit up with twinkling lights on the bushes and trees. Some had electric candles in the windows, and one even had a Nativity scene in the front yard.
“I’ve never really seen such a thing,” she said.
“You’ve never seen the Christmas lights?”
She shook her head. “We don’t often go out at night, and even when we do, we just drive, rather than exploring like this.”
He squeezed her hand. “Exploring can be fun.”
“Do you explore often?”
“Sometimes, but not too often,” he admitted. “It’s not as much fun when you’re alone.”
Bethany didn’t particularly consider herself fun, but if John thought she was, that made her happy.
Looking down the street, Bethany saw something that made her breath catch. He must have heard her, for he chuckled at her reaction.
Ahead of them was a house so lit up and bright that there was a glow over the roof. Besides the lights on the trees and bushes, the house also had lit-up icicles hanging from the gutter, lit-up figures on the roof, and a yard full of animated characters with spotlights on them.
And there was music playing.
“I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d tried to describe this to me!” she said.
“It’s really something, isn’t it?”
“I . . . I don’t know whether I like it or think it’s terrible!”
He laughed. “It’s fun to look at, though.”
“But I definitely wouldn’t want to live near this house.”
He tightened his hold upon her hand. “Me, neither.”
She couldn’t imagine that anyone would actually enjoy coming home to such a display. Surely their neighbors didn’t like all the brightness. There was something to be said for living a plain life, a life in which less was most definitely more.
“What’s it like?” John asked. “Living so close to Englischers.”
His question caught her off guard. She’d never really thought about the fact that she lived close to Englischers, mostly because she didn’t interact with them very often. “Our neighbors keep to themselves.”
“Do you like that?”
“What do you mean?”
He withdrew his hand from hers and shifted his body so that he faced her. “I just can’t imagine living so close to other people and not knowing them.”
“Oh, that.”
It was true that, unlike most Amish people, who lived together in communities, Bethany’s church district was spread out among the Englische who lived just off the main street of Shipshewana. To visit with Amish friends, they had to bicycle or take the horse and buggy.
“I’ve never known any other way,” Bethany admitted. “But I do know I would much prefer not to live so close to town.”
Something changed in his expression. His eyes widened, just a little, and she saw his mouth twitch.
“I always wanted a big garden,” she continued. “To grow more vegetables and to have canning bees. Well, at least I like the idea of canning bees.”
He smiled.
“And I’d like to not hear the cars all the time. They speed down the road so fast, and some of those drivers just aren’t nice.”
“Like the woman who stole your photo?”
It took her a moment to remember the day that she’d crossed the intersection and the tourist had taken her photo. That was the day her bicycle broke. She’d almost forgotten that it had been John who rescued her.
“Ja, exactly. It’s very invasive.”
He nodded. “It is.”
“What about you?” She leaned her back against the closed door of the buggy. “You live on a farm and you work in town. Seems you have one foot in both worlds.”
“‘One foot in both worlds,’” he repeated. “That’s an interesting way of putting it. The truth is that I don’t mind working at the auction haus, but I’d much prefer farming.” He took a deep breath and turned his gaze back to the house with the lights. “But sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do, ja? Like the neighbors who have to endure the bright lights for a few weeks each year. We tolerate what we must in order to help our families.”
There was a sorrowful note in his voice. Bethany wished she had something wise to say. “Mayhaps you could talk to your daed,” she offered as a solution.
“Ja, mayhaps.” He gave her a small smile. “Well, it doesn’t much matter for now. I do have to work tomorrow.” He picked up the reins and urged the horse into a walk. “But I wanted to show you this.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“And I wanted to see you because I won’t see you this week. Since you won’t be working for my maem anymore after Friday, I thought I could stop by on Saturday.”
She felt as if a hollow pit formed in her stomach. She’d forgotten that, after this week, she wouldn’t see John Esh on his days off or on Saturdays. After all, Friday was the last meal that Edna had scheduled for the groups from the Destination Amish tours. If John wanted to continue co
urting her, he’d have to let her know when he was coming to fetch her well in advance.
“I’m supposed to help my maem make food for our holiday party. The one we’re having at your haus.” She didn’t want to go so long without seeing him, however. “But I’m sure I could visit with you later in the day.”
“Gut.” He paused. “Because I’ve something I want to discuss with you.”
She felt dizzy. What would he possibly want to discuss with her? Was it possible that he intended to formally ask her to court him? “Wh-what is it?”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Just something. But I can’t say anything about it until then. I need to talk to someone first.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly Bethany knew that if the previous week had felt long, the upcoming one would feel even longer.
Chapter Forty-Seven
After supper on Wednesday evening, Edna was surprised when John joined her and Elmer in the sitting area.
Both Jonas and Jeremiah were out with their friends—Edna never knew where they went, nor did she care to ask. If they weren’t out with friends, they sometimes went hunting later in the evening. With pheasant season having just ended, they often hunted deer.
With the exception of the previous weekend, John usually retired early so that he could get up to help his father with the morning milking before he went into Shipshewana for work.
Tonight, however, he appeared to have something on his mind.
Edna rocked back and forth in her chair, working on the scarf she was crocheting. It would be a Christmas present for one of the boys, a small and practical gift that was made with love. Elmer was reading through last week’s Budget newspaper when John sat down on the sofa.
“Everything all right?”
John nodded. “Ja, Daed, everything’s all right.”
Edna tried to concentrate on the scarf, but she couldn’t. Setting down the yarn, she studied John. He’d been such a hard read of late. Usually so thoughtful and kind, he had become a bit quieter and more introspective. Some days, however, he seemed happy in a quiet sort of way. And then, of course, he’d been disappearing quite a bit in the afternoons and early evenings over the weekends.
“Daed,” John began slowly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands together in a nervous manner. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
The sound of the newspaper crumpling was Elmer’s only response.
Edna looked at her husband and saw that he had put down the paper, his eyes focused on John.
“Well, I was thinking about some things”—he swallowed—“like work and all.”
“Work?”
John nodded. “Ja, work.”
“Everything okay with your job?”
“Oh ja, it is. The job is fine, but it’s just not for me, Daed.”
Elmer frowned. “What do you mean it’s not for you?”
Edna rested her hands on the yarn in her lap. She knew exactly what was coming, and to be honest, she was surprised this discussion hadn’t occurred sooner.
“I want to farm, Daed. I don’t want to work at the auction haus. There’s no future in that,” John said in a somber tone.
At this comment, Elmer sighed. “Some days I’m not so sure that there’s a future in dairy farming, either.”
“Well, I want to work on the farm, Daed. I’ve been working at the auction haus for six years now.”
Edna’s eyes flickered to Elmer. After almost thirty years together, she knew him well enough to sense his discomfort with the conversation.
“John, it’s not that simple,” Elmer replied. “It’s about the cost of living, and frankly, we just don’t earn enough to support you farming. Plus, we need your income to help get us through the winter.”
For a moment, John stared at the floor, still rubbing his hands. He nodded his head a bit as if indicating that he understood what his father had said. He truly seemed to be contemplating Elmer’s words, but Edna had a suspicion that John had already anticipated that reaction.
“Mayhaps,” John said at last, “it’s time for Jonas or Jeremiah to work elsewhere. They’ve never been enthusiastic farmers anyway. One of them could surely take my job at the auction haus.”
A fabulous solution, Edna thought. She tried to tamp down her excitement. She knew what this meant. John was thinking about the future. And that future would undoubtedly include a bride. If John worked at the farm, surely he would bring his bride to live with them. Edna could hardly believe her ears. She’d have the best of both worlds: John and Bethany.
But she couldn’t share any of this. Not yet. The decision would have to be Elmer’s.
“Well now,” Elmer said, tugging at his graying beard, “seems to me that you’ve given me something to think about, John.” His eyes shifted to look at Edna. “Wouldn’t you say so, Maem?”
Swallowing, Edna nodded.
“Why don’t we all pray about this for a day or two?”
Edna felt as if her heart skipped a beat. She knew her husband well enough to know that he already had the answer. But he was never one to make a quick decision. He needed time to mull it over and pray until he felt that everyone involved had had enough time to consider all the different angles.
Oh! How she wished that Elmer had simply just agreed. From the expression on John’s face, he felt the same way. The fact that they had to wait would make the next few days painfully long.
“Danke, Daed,” John said, the disappointment heavy in his voice. He looked drained and tired. “I’ll pray on it for sure.”
Edna suspected that John had already done that. For days or even weeks, she thought. But she knew that he was far too respectful to push the matter. If his father needed more time to feel comfortable with his decision, John was not the type of son who would demand an immediate answer.
Edna felt her heart breaking for her son as he walked back to the stairs, his shoulders heavy with the burden of having to wait. Surely Elmer would agree to John’s request, she thought. It was reasonable enough, especially given his passion for farming, when, as John had pointed out, neither Jonas nor Jeremiah was too keen on being a full-time farmer. Yes, it was time for John to move on to the next phase of his life, and clearly, that included finally doing what he wanted—farming, and most likely with a young wife at his side.
Chapter Forty-Eight
By the time Bethany arrived home on Thursday evening, Mary was already busy making the cookies that she’d promised to bring to the school pageant the following afternoon.
“Land’s sake,” Mary declared when Bethany shut the kitchen door behind herself. “This day has just flown by!”
Bethany shook the snow from her shawl and hung it on the peg near the door. “It’s starting to snow something fierce out there!”
“Fresh snow sure is beautiful,” Mary said, scooping a dollop of the peanut butter dough onto the baking sheet. “And you’re just in time to help me with these cookies.” She smiled at her daughter. “That’s a beautiful thing, too, ja?”
Sliding onto the bench at the table, Bethany sat down and reached over to pinch the dough. She popped it into her mouth and shut her eyes. “Peanut butter cookies. My favorite!”
“I’m making extra for you, don’t worry. And we’ve sugar cookies that need icing.” Mary pointed to the bowl on the counter. “I’ve already made it.”
“I can help with that,” Bethany said.
While she got up and fetched the bowl of icing, Mary took the opportunity to observe her daughter. She appeared relaxed and at peace, something that Mary realized was more common these days. She’d definitely come out of her shell since she’d begun helping Edna.
“You’ve really enjoyed working at Edna’s, haven’t you?”
“Ja, I have.” Bethany leaned her elbow on the table and rested her cheek against her hand. “I’ve learned a lot from Edna.”
“Oh?”
Bethany nodded.
“Like what?”
Mary made a face. “Are you saying that my kitchen isn’t efficient?”
Bethany laughed. “Nee, Maem. But it’s different when you only cook for three people and Edna is cooking for thirty!”
“I see.” But Mary had known Bethany was teasing. “Mayhaps you’ll miss riding with John anymore.”
At the mention of John, Bethany pursed her lips and her shoulders tensed. Mary wasn’t certain how to read her daughter’s reaction.
“But you’ll see him again on Christmas Eve at the holiday party, ja?” Mary scooped some more dough onto a spoon. “That’ll be nice, won’t it?”
For a drawn-out moment, Bethany didn’t respond. She rolled some cookie dough between her palms and then placed it on the baking sheet. “Ja, Maem, that will be nice.”
Now Mary understood. She could remember her own days of courting Abram. They would see each other on Sundays during fellowship. It had been a long thirteen days between each time they’d be together, and she’d often felt apprehensive while they were apart. Would he meet someone else? Would he lose interest? They hadn’t courted for long before they married, something that was common back in her youth. Today, however, the young people tended to court more frequently and for longer, probably because they saw each other more often.
“It’ll get easier, Bethany,” Mary heard herself saying.
She looked up. “What will?”
Before Mary could answer, someone knocked at the door.
“I’ll get it.”
As soon as the door opened, Mary knew who stood on the other side: John.
“I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by,” he said in a whispered voice, probably intending to avoid being overheard. “I was on my way home from work and just thought I’d visit for a few minutes.”
“I don’t mind.” Bethany glanced toward the table. “We’re making cookies for the school pageant tomorrow.”
“Ah.” He paused. “I’m interrupting, then.”
Mary held her breath.
“Nee, not at all,” Bethany replied quickly. “Kum help us.”