by Sarah Price
Clearly this response displeased Wilma, and she scoffed.
“Besides,” Barbara said in a sharp tone of rebuke, “this is a charity fundraiser, not a business store, Wilma. It’s supposed to raise money but also be fun. Let’s not forget the purpose.”
Verna emerged from behind the black buggy parked on the grass, her hands carrying more bundles of neatly wrapped baby blankets. “Oh Wilma, if the kinner want a cookie, let them have it. We have plenty, and I’ve no mind to go home with any extras.”
Mary helped Verna lay out the remaining baby blankets. “At least the weather held off.” She eyed the sky suspiciously. “Although that dark cloud over there sure looks ominous.”
“It’s not going to rain, Mary,” Edna reassured her.
Wilma looked up. “It’s going to rain?”
Edna sighed. “Nee, Wilma. I said it’s not going to rain.” “Well, I sure do hope it holds off long enough for these blankets to sell.”
Verna stopped short, her brow furrowed as she looked from Wilma to Edna, who merely shrugged. Verna hid a smile and continued unpacking the baby blankets.
Barbara joined Verna and Mary, helping to refold the blankets. “My word, you women made enough this year, don’t you think?”
“They sold out last year,” Edna observed. “Hopefully they’ll do the same this year.”
The crowds were light at this early hour of the day, but by the time eleven o’clock rolled around, Edna was pleased to see that more people seemed to have arrived, and plenty of Englische women stopped at their table to admire the baby blankets.
And, of course, plenty of children came for the cookies.
Barbara Brenneman returned to the table. “Such a big crowd here today. I was just over at the auction.” She gestured toward the big white tent on the other side of the field. “There must be twice as many people there as last year.” She scanned the table. “How has the traffic been through here?”
Edna shook her head. “Lighter than I’d hoped for. Mayhaps you should auction off some of the baby blankets.”
“They’ll sell. People will filter through after the auction.”
Knowing better than to argue with her, Edna said nothing.
“I do have something I want to talk to you about, though.” Barbara lowered her voice and stepped to the side.
Curious, Edna followed. What could Barbara possibly have to say that needed such privacy?
“I was speaking with Rebecca Yoder—”
Edna interrupted. “From Yoders’ Store?”
“Ja, that’s the one. Well, she agreed to sell your baked goods in her store to help raise money for Amish Aid.” Barbara tilted her head and gave Edna a knowing look. “I told her I’d speak to you, to see if your cookie club would—”
“It’s not a club,” Edna mumbled.
“—be willing to bake more cookies each week. The cost of supplies would be taken from the profit, of course, but that could be a pretty penny toward helping a family or two in need each year.”
Inwardly, Edna groaned.
She knew that the other women would agree. After all, it could be one of their families who needed help from the communal aid fund that each church district kept. But Verna, Wilma, and Mary weren’t as busy as she was. Their only work was taking care of the house and family. Edna did that, too, but also would soon start cooking for the tourists. That was time-consuming, for she had to plan her meals, clean the house, and prepare the food. Baking more cookies each week would certainly be hard on her, timewise.
And yet, she knew that helping others was important. Wasn’t this what Barbara’s husband had been preaching about the other week?
Of course, Edna suspected that Barbara had made the request of her on purpose. While Edna might have suggested to Barbara that there were plenty of other women in the community who could use a prod in the direction of tending to the needs of other people, Edna also knew that Barbara wasn’t stupid.
When you want something done, Edna’s mother always used to say, you ask a busy person, because they’re the only ones who know how to get things done.
“If you could start by baking twenty dozen cookies and bundle them in sets of five, that would be almost fifty packages.” Barbara paused for a minute, her eyes looking upward. “That would bring in over two hundred fifty dollars a week.”
Quickly Edna did the math. That would be a contribution of at least a thousand dollars a month. With tourist season being a good eight months, they could easily raise eight thousand dollars to help families in need.
“You discuss it with your friends and let me know,” Barbara said.
Edna shook her head. “No need, Barbara. We’ll happily do it.”
“Wunderbarr!” She clapped her hands and grinned. “I knew I could count on you, Edna! A more giving person doesn’t walk the earth.”
At this unusual compliment, Edna laughed. “I highly doubt that.”
* * *
It was just around noon when Edna felt a nudge at her arm. She’d been sitting in the shade of the buggy, crocheting a blanket and enjoying the happy atmosphere of the day. She’d almost forgotten that Mary was sitting beside her.
“Edna,” she whispered.
When Edna looked up, she saw Mary staring down the grassy aisle between the neighboring vendors.
“What is it?”
Mary gestured with her head. “Look over there. Is that . . . ?”
Squinting, Edna looked in the direction that Mary had indicated. At first, she saw nothing unusual. People. Lots of people. Barbara had been right. The afternoon foot traffic had definitely picked up.
But surely that wasn’t what Mary found so curious.
Suddenly, her eyes recognized a tall, willowy woman with a baby on her hip walking toward them. The red hair was a dead giveaway.
Catching her breath, Edna kept her gaze riveted on Myrna. “Well, I don’t believe it.” She glanced over her shoulder to see whether Verna and Wilma noticed that Myrna was approaching them, with a man and three small boys by her side. “If that don’t beat all . . .”
Wilma must have noticed them staring into the distance, for she suddenly gasped. “Land’s sake! Verna, isn’t that your dochder?”
Edna watched Verna’s reaction.
At first, she looked confused, as if she couldn’t reconcile what she saw as being real. Then her expression changed to joy.
“I don’t believe my eyes,” she whispered.
An Englische woman stepped up to the table, gazing down at the different baby blankets. She ran her hands over a blue one before picking it up.
Reluctantly, Edna made her way over to the woman to assist her, all the while keeping one eye on Verna.
“Such beautiful work,” the woman said. “But then, you Amish always make such lovely things.”
Behind her, Edna heard Wilma scoff. You Amish. It was a cringeworthy expression, but one that Edna had gotten used to, especially in her business dealing with Englische tourists.
“We try,” she managed to say.
One of the older Riehl boys must have broken free from Ezekiel and Myrna, for he suddenly appeared next to the Englische woman.
“Cookies!” He reached out and started to grab one.
“David!” Myrna quickened her pace and caught up to him. “You don’t run off like that,” she scolded in a soft voice.
The Englische woman watched with curiosity. “Such a handsome child,” she said. And then her eyes noticed the baby. “And what an angel she is!”
Myrna rested her free hand on David’s shoulder and pulled him toward her.
“You have a beautiful family,” the woman said.
Edna’s eyes widened, anticipating a response from Myrna. But she remained silent.
Ezekiel, however, did not. He appeared behind Myrna in time to overhear the woman’s compliment. “Danke.”
“Well, I’ll take this blanket,” the woman said and reached inside her purse for her wallet. “A new grandson just arrived last m
onth.”
Here we go, Edna thought, keeping her smile plastered on her face.
“Such a handsome baby.” She withdrew her phone and pressed a button on it. “See?” Flipping the phone around, she showed Edna a photo. “He’s my fourth grandchild, but such a sweet angel.” She turned the phone around again and stared at the photo.
Edna handed the woman her blanket. “Have a gut day now.”
The woman walked away, the blanket stowed under her arm. Finally Edna could pay attention to what was happening with Myrna!
She stood by her mother, the smallest boy hanging on to her hand and swinging around her legs. Myrna, however, didn’t appear to notice. Ezekiel held the baby in his arms and stood beside Myrna. To any observer, they appeared to be a small family. Edna, however, saw something much different, and it warmed her heart.
“Ja, so Ezekiel thought the kinner might like to see the fair,” Myrna was saying. “Wanted to stop by and see how your baby blankets are selling.”
Verna glanced at the table. “Ach, not so well yet. We still have more than half left.”
Wilma walked behind Verna. “Don’t want to be stuck with all of those, that’s for sure. No babies on the way to give them to.”
Edna choked back a laugh.
One of the older boys reached up and touched the edge of a pastel-colored baby blanket. His fingers stroked the soft yarn. “Daed?” He looked up at his father. “Do you think . . . ?” His voice trailed off but his eyes landed on his sister.
“I suspect I know what you’re getting at,” Ezekiel said. He shifted Katie in his arms and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “If that’s the one you like, you take it, David.”
Myrna’s eyes widened. “You needn’t pay for that,” she said. “I can surely make one for little Katie.”
But Ezekiel insisted. “It’s for Amish Aid, ja? It’s a gut cause, and David seems to like this one here. Besides, Katie hasn’t been the recipient of much spoiling.”
Edna watched as he handed Verna a crisp ten and a five-dollar bill. Taking the money, Verna appeared speechless.
“Danke, Ezekiel,” Edna finally said, stepping up beside Verna. “Much appreciated.”
He nodded. “Amish Aid helps everyone,” he said. “Mayhaps one day it’ll help someone in my family.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Verna watched as Myrna left, chatting happily with Ezekiel and his boys, who were enjoying their cookies. Before they disappeared into the crowd, Ezekiel leaned over to speak to Myrna. And when Myrna tilted her head to listen to him, even from a distance, Verna could see her daughter’s face light up.
“I . . . I scarce know what to say!” She could also hardly tear her eyes from the sight.
Wilma pursed her lips. “Best be planting celery, from the looks of it.”
Both Mary and Edna laughed.
“Oh, Wilma!” Verna turned and gave her friend a playful swat on the arm. “Just because they’re out in public like this—”
“Especially because they are out in public like this,” Wilma retorted, not letting Verna finish her sentence.
“Well, if I have any need for extra celery to serve at a wedding,” Verna said, directing her comment to Wilma, “I’ll be buying it, thank you very much.”
“And he bought that baby blanket without even batting an eye!” Wilma pointed at Verna. “Mark my words, you’ve got a wedding in your future, my friend.”
Mary sighed. “Did you see how he looked at her?”
Verna felt light-headed. She had seen the way Ezekiel looked at Myrna. There was a possessive nature to his attention toward her daughter, one that came only with enormous fondness for another.
“He seems like a gut man,” Mary said, turning to look at Verna. “And mayhaps not as conservative as you think.”
Mary’s comment caught Verna off guard. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, he mentioned that the money was going to Amish Aid and what a good cause it was.” She raised an eyebrow. “And that one day his family might need it. Mayhaps he’s not as opposed to medicine as you think.”
Verna hadn’t made that connection, but now that Mary pointed it out, she realized it had been a strange comment.
Mary sighed. “I think God meant for Myrna to lose all those jobs so that she could find her way to work for Ezekiel.”
Wilma snorted.
“What?”
Wilma nudged her arm. “If that was His plan, God gave Myrna—and Verna!—a very long, winding road to get to the final destination.”
“Sometimes God does that,” Mary insisted. “Makes arriving at the journey’s end more rewarding.”
“Ja, well, I’m sure Verna could’ve used a little less stress along the way.”
Verna appreciated Wilma’s words. It had been stressful, dealing with Myrna and her constant issues at her jobs. But she also believed Mary might have spoken the truth. All of the trials and tribulations would be worth it if Myrna found happiness.
And she did look happy.
Verna stood near the display table and stared after the retreating figure of her daughter next to Ezekiel. Try as she might, she couldn’t reconcile her feelings. On the one hand, if Myrna had found love and companionship with Ezekiel Riehl, Verna was more than happy for her daughter.
But on the other hand, Verna had never imagined that Myrna would settle down as a second wife, marrying into a ready-made family. It was hard enough to get used to being newly married, what with the responsibilities of taking care of a man, house, and business, but to add four children into the equation?
Now that the possibility was real and staring Verna in the face, she had to take time to digest it.
* * *
An hour later, the bulk of the baby blankets had sold. As Barbara had predicted, once the auction ended, the crowds descended on the vendor tables, and the four women could barely keep up with the people wanting to buy their blankets.
Verna sat in the folding chair, trying to calculate how much money they’d earned for the communal aid.
“Land’s sake!” Edna stared at the almost empty table. Only three blankets remained. “I’ve never seen such a mad rush!”
Wilma refilled the empty plate with the last of the cookies. “Clearly baby blankets are in hot demand,” she joked.
Verna looked up. “Almost four hundred dollars.” She set down her pencil. “Seems like an awful lot of work for not very much money, don’t you think?”
Edna grimaced. “Ja, I agree.”
Mary, however, did not. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s been a lovely day here, and I’ve enjoyed being with my friends. As far as the work, why! All those Wednesdays when we were together, that was more fun than labor.” She smiled at Edna and Verna. “Besides, four hundred dollars is a lot of money. Someone will surely benefit from it.”
Leave it to Mary, Verna thought. Always seeing the bright side of situations. “You’re right. We should be happy that we’ve been able to raise so much money.”
Edna cleared her throat. “I’ve got more news.” She glanced at Mary. “Since you enjoy our company so much—”
Wilma laughed.
“—we can continue meeting on Wednesdays.”
Verna squinted. “More blankets?”
“Nee.” Edna shook her head. “More cookies.”
“Oh help!” Verna leaned back in the chair. “What for?”
“Not what, but who. Barbara pulled me aside earlier. Yoders’ Store wants to sell our cookies. We could bake them on Wednesdays, and they’d have them on display Thursday, Friday, and Saturday each week. The money raised will go to Amish Aid. Minus the costs of supplies, of course.”
For a moment, Verna sat there, speechless. Wilma and Mary remained silent, too.
“Are you saying that we’re to go into business?” Verna said at last. “Baking and selling cookies?”
Edna made a face. “Hadn’t looked at it that way. But I reckon you’re right.”
Mary spok
e up. “Well, we do enjoy getting together—” “Speak for yourself,” Wilma teased.
“—and it is for a good cause.”
“What will we call this little endeavor?” Verna asked.
“Call it?” Wilma crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would we need to call it something?”
“Verna’s right,” Edna said. “We’d have to name our cookies for the store display. We need a name.”
“Oh, that’s easy!” Mary gave a broad smile. “The Amish Cookie Club!”
Immediately, Edna groaned. But Verna liked the idea. It had a sweet ring to it, and after all, everyone seemed to call them that anyway.
“Well, I’ll need to speak to Simon,” Verna said. “But I can’t imagine he’d deny such an opportunity to help our brothers and sisters in need.”
Wilma agreed. “Ja, Jacob won’t argue either, I’m sure.”
Everyone turned to Mary, waiting for her response.
“Of course I’ll help,” she said. “But I think we should rotate where we bake each week. It’ll be too much work for Edna to always host, especially since she’ll be cooking for tourists again soon.”
“I’d forgotten about that.” Verna wondered how Edna would be able to handle baking the cookies and her business. “You really should get some help, Edna.”
“My Rachel and Ella Mae are still available,” Wilma sang.
“Danke, but not needed,” Edna sang back.
Verna laughed. One of these days, she thought, Edna would need help and she’d have no choice but to reach out to Wilma and finally hire Rachel and Ella Mae. Just the thought of Wilma’s two difficult daughters working alongside Edna gave her the giggles. She wasn’t certain who would come out the survivor: Edna or the girls.
“We can start baking this next week,” Edna said.
Verna raised her hand. “Let’s start at my haus since it’s central to everyone. I’ll have Samuel and Timothy move the table so we have more room.”
“And we’ll need to make little note cards to tie onto the packages.”
This time, Mary offered to help. “That would be perfect for Bethany to do. She’s got quite a pretty hand.”