A Beautiful Arrangement

by Beth Wiseman

  He finally looked up, his eyes watery. “I don’t know what you want, Lydia. I really don’t.”

  She placed a hand over her trembling lips, trying not to cry. For once, they needed to communicate. “What I want is for us to talk, really talk, about how we feel. We’ve never done that. We grew up together, but we were close only when we were kids. You hit your rumschpringe way before me, and by the time we started to get close again, we’d grown into different people. Once we were married, you were like a stranger to me. I think I’ve been getting to know you ever since.” She shook her head. “That probably doesn’t even make sense.”

  They were quiet. Samuel’s elbows were still propped on his knees, and his head found its way back in his hands again.

  “I was bitter,” she said. “But that’s only part of why I avoided intimacy, why I . . . rejected you. I had morning sickness that managed to turn into all-day-long sickness, and I also felt fat and unattractive. I still do. I-I’m still carrying baby weight.”

  Samuel turned to face her. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Lydia thought she’d never seen such sincerity in her husband’s expression. It took everything she had not to burst into tears and run into his arms. But they needed to talk this out. It had taken her a long time to realize that.

  Samuel held the expression. “Lydia, I know I pushed you in the beginning. I was angry too. Mostly at myself. I’m older, and I should have known better than to let my attraction to you run away with me. Every time I looked at you, I felt guilty. But I was still angry that you didn’t want any part of me in the bedroom.”

  “Samuel, it’s not that I didn’t want any part of you. And now . . . sometimes I want all of you, in every way. But we didn’t start out the way couples are supposed to.”

  Samuel pulled his eyes from her and stared straight ahead as he leaned against the back of the chair. “What do we do from here?”

  Lydia reached over and touched his arm. “We talk instead of shutting down. If you don’t like something I’m doing, or vice versa, we talk it through instead of getting angry or staying silent.”

  * * *

  Samuel thought about his earlier resolve, then turned to face her. “I’m not going to go against you trying to find out about Margaret’s schweschder. I’ll even help you. I’d rather be involved and know what’s going on. If this is something you feel called to do . . .” He still wasn’t convinced this was a true calling, but he would be there for her either way. “Then I’ll be by your side.”

  “Do you mean that?” She twisted in the chair to face him, dabbing at her eyes.

  “Ya, I do. And please don’t cry. I never want to make you cry again.”

  She smiled. “You will make me cry again. And we’ll get mad at each other again. But that’s just part of marriage, ya?”

  He nodded, still hoping he’d never make her cry again. “How are you planning to find Margaret’s schweschder, and what if she doesn’t want anything to do with her? She knows where she is, I’m sure. And what if she isn’t even alive anymore?”

  “I wish I knew why I feel called to do something about Margaret, but I don’t. It’s our haus she’s been parking in front of. Somehow, she found out who I am and where I live. I’m sure she could have found out who Beverly is, too, but apparently, she didn’t. All I’m going to do is try to locate Delila. She might be the only one who can get help for Margaret. No one should live the way she’s living.”

  “What about the creepy boppli room?” Samuel cringed when he thought about it.

  “It’s a beautiful room. It’s chilling only because it’s the only livable room in the haus. Maybe Margaret always wanted a boppli and tended to that room in hopes of having one someday.”

  “Um, that time has long passed for Margaret.” Samuel rubbed his temples.

  “I saw Sarah Mae Yoder today, and she said Margaret might have something called dementia. I think that’s a form of craziness. So maybe her schweschder can help her.”

  “What’s your plan?” Samuel’s stomach growled.

  Lydia stood. “I don’t know yet. But I hear your tummy rumbling, and I’m starving too. Maybe we can talk about it over supper.” She reached out her hand to him, and he took it and stood.

  They walked hand in hand to the door, but before they stepped over the threshold, Samuel stopped and waited until she turned to face him. “Lydia, I do love you. It might not be the kind of love we thought it would be, but I’d throw myself in front of a train for you or Mattie.”

  She smiled again, which warmed his heart. “Let’s hope you never have to do that. And I love you, too, Samuel. I believe we have the kind of love we wanted to grow into, but we missed the growing phase, the romance part.” She looked down, then back up at him, her lip trembling. “I know your patience must be wearing thin, but when we truly are together the way we both want, I want it to be just right.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and Samuel could feel his heart cracking. “I’m afraid I won’t be very gut at . . . it. And that scares me.”

  Samuel had often thought about the three-year age difference between them. It didn’t sound like much, but Lydia had basically been a child having a child. Women had children young in their community, but rarely as young as sixteen. Still, it had never occurred to him that she might be afraid or worried about how they would be together as an intimate couple.

  “I’ll tell you what.” He heard the shakiness in his voice, so he cleared his throat. “You find your way back to the nook in my arm tonight, and I’ll give you all the patience in the world. I miss you being next to me when we sleep. We’ll take things slow, and I’ll try not to be so overbearing, especially about Margaret. I’ll see if I can take an afternoon off from work, and we can go to the library or do whatever else you have in mind. We can even drive by her haus if you want.”

  “That sounds gut.” She smiled, and they started back inside. Once there, Samuel grinned. “But if you ever want to repeat those kisses, the ones we had in the limo last Saturday, I’d be all for that.”

  “Baby steps, Samuel.”

  He wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but he took her smile as a good thing.

  Chapter 17

  Enos used to tell Beverly her stew was the best meal she prepared, and as she breathed in the beefy aroma, she hoped Joseph would think so too. Joseph loved to eat, and he ate a lot, so Beverly doubled the recipe. If she had any leftovers, she’d offer to send them home with him.

  She’d cleaned house since early this morning, even the windows. Her table was set for two, and she’d plucked a few roses from her yard and put them in a vase in the middle. Four lanterns were placed throughout the living room and kitchen. It was almost four o’clock on a cloudless day, but she hoped Joseph would enjoy himself enough to stay until dark.

  Lydia had called earlier and filled her in about Margaret’s sister, as well as about how she was going to try to find her. As exciting as keeping a quest secret had been, Samuel was onboard now, and that was probably best since no one knew about Margaret’s mental state for sure. Meanwhile, Beverly wanted to focus all her efforts on her budding relationship with Joseph, but she would pray often, asking God to keep both Lydia and Samuel safe.

  As she gave the stew a final stir, she heard a buggy pulling in. After brushing wrinkles from her apron, she strode across the living room and waited for Joseph at the front door. He had flowers again. Yellow roses. She smiled as she pushed the screen door open.

  “I love a man on time.” Beverly accepted the flowers, then hugged him. “Welcome to mei home, and danki for the flowers.” She motioned for him to come in.

  Joseph hung his hat on the rack by the door, then sniffed the air. “Ach, something sure smells gut.”

  “Danki. I hope you like it. It’s beef stew.” Beverly hadn’t decided when she would share the secret she’d been keeping from Joseph. She presumed the right opportunity would present itself, and she’d prayed about it several times.

  Joseph�
�s eyes drifted to the playpen filled with toys. “You do keep your niece a lot.”

  “Ya, I do.” She waved an arm. “Follow me. Supper is ready, and if I’ve learned anything about you, it’s that you enjoy a gut meal. I hope you’ll be pleased.”

  A sober expression settled into his features as they entered the kitchen, which didn’t happen often. “Danki for having me, Beverly. I’m happy you’re comfortable enough to have me in your home.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m very happy you’re here.”

  His eyes traveled around the room and landed on the pot simmering on the stove. He closed his eyes and took in a long deep breath. “If this meal is half as gut as it smells, I might drop to one knee and propose right here and now.”

  Beverly laughed at his teasing, but his words caused her heart to swell.

  “Have a seat,” she said before moving to the stove. She turned off the burner and then carried the pot to the table before placing a warm loaf of bread near the stew. “I just need to get the salad, and we should be ready.”

  After Beverly sat down, they bowed their heads in prayer. When she looked up, Joseph was staring at her.

  “You look very pretty.” His hair was flattened on top of his head, and her supper date had a late afternoon prickly shadow on his face. She’d felt it when she kissed him. But when he smiled . . . that cheeky grin won her over every time. She hoped he retained his boyish features as he aged, but if he didn’t, it didn’t matter. He’d already stolen her heart.

  “Danki.” They locked eyes, then Beverly said, “Eat while it’s hot.”

  After she’d served him some of her stew, Joseph took one bite, closed his eyes, and swallowed. “This is the best stew ever.” He chuckled. “But don’t tell mei mamm I said that.”

  Beverly’s insides swirled. She was thrilled to learn he might want to introduce her to his family soon.

  He ate all of his stew before Beverly had even finished a third of hers. She ladled more for him. “Save room for dessert. I made a rhubarb pie.”

  Beverly stood when she heard cooing coming from the back of the house. “Ach, well, we almost made it all the way through supper before she woke up from her nap.”

  “I didn’t even know you had Susan tonight.”

  She smiled and left the room.

  * * *

  Joseph’s vision of sitting on the couch, kissing Beverly, slipped from his mind, but that was okay. Beverly was good with her niece, and Joseph loved being around them both. She’d be a good mother someday. To our ten kids. He smiled and looked around her kitchen. He saw empty bottles in a drainboard by the sink, a high chair folded against one wall, and a portable stroller in the corner by the back door. Beverly was really involved in her niece’s life. Maybe we’ll have more than ten kids.

  When she came back into the room with Susan on her hip, the baby yawned.

  “She played hard today. Normally she doesn’t take a nap so late in the afternoon, but it worked out okay since we got to eat most of our meal without being interrupted.”

  Joseph waved at the baby. “Wie bischt, Susan.” He nodded to the high chair. “Do you want me to pull it up to the table.”

  “Ya, danki.”

  He popped it open and carried it to the table. Beverly slid the baby into the seat, then placed a plastic bowl with dry cereal on the tray. “I’ll feed her a real meal shortly. It takes her a few minutes to wake up.”

  Joseph gazed at the woman across the table from him. “You’re a wunderbaar aenti. Your schweschder is blessed to have you. I’m sure she enjoys having breaks since motherhood is hard work.” He paused to roll his eyes. “Or so mei mudder tells me.”

  Beverly looked at the baby as if seeing her for the first time, her expression filled with love. Joseph pictured her looking at their children like that someday, then reminded himself—again—that it was too soon for those kinds of thoughts.

  “Joseph . . .” She gazed into his eyes. “I’m not Susan’s aenti. I’m her mamm.”

  As an unfamiliar pain squeezed his heart, Joseph’s jaw dropped. “What?” Had he misheard her?

  “Susan is mei dochder, my and Enos’s child.”

  Joseph was rarely speechless, but no words came together to form a sentence. Finally, he found his voice. “Why . . . why would you tell me she’s your niece?”

  “I wanted you to have a chance to get to know me first.” Her bottom lip trembled. “Some men are open to raising another man’s child, and some aren’t. I thought if you liked me, then you would accept Susan too.” Pausing, she took a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to decide not to date me just because I had a boppli.”

  Joseph was too stunned to say anything as he slouched into his chair and put a hand over his full stomach. The playpen, the stroller, the high chair, the bottles in the drainboard—how had he not caught on? His thoughts traveled back to meeting Beverly at Gasthof Village, specifically when she said she had to babysit because her sister had to work. The truth must have been that her sister had to work and couldn’t babysit Susan. Then there were all the references to her being Susan’s aunt. How many lies had she told since the day he met her? Was that why she’d avoided that Englisch couple in the restaurant in French Lick? Would they have mentioned Susan was her daughter? Their child appeared to be about Susan’s age, and she knew them somehow.

  “Maybe it was too soon to tell you.” Beverly pressed her trembling lips together.

  How could she say that? “Too soon?” He scratched his forehead. “Um, you should have told me a long time ago, like the first time we met at Lydia and Samuel’s haus.” His eyes opened wide. “Were they in on this? Do they know Susan is your boppli?”

  “There’s nothing to be in on. It wasn’t really a deception, more a testing of the waters.” She blinked her eyes a few times. “But, nee, they don’t know Susan is mei dochder.”

  Joseph was drowning in those deceptive waters, struggling to wrap his mind around this. “Lydia is your friend. It seems you would have told her.” And me.

  “I didn’t really know Lydia the day we went into the furniture store. We’d bumped into each other on the street, and then I went inside with her to use the restroom. We had seen each other once or twice, but just in passing. I was going to tell her, but then so much time went by, I decided I wanted to tell you first.” She smiled.

  Joseph gave his head a little shake. “I don’t believe this.” He was pretty sure the tone of his voice revealed his thoughts, and he reminded himself there was a child at the table. He wasn’t going to lose it in front of Susan. He took a deep breath. “Don’t you think Lydia and Samuel—especially Lydia—are going to be upset when they find out you’ve lied this entire time?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t think they would be. I thought they’d understand. The man I told you I dated, Chriss, didn’t want to raise another man’s child. I-I wanted to see what kind of person you were, if you would break mei heart the way he did.”

  “Beverly.” He gazed into her eyes. “I never would have broken your heart, and I would have loved Susan like she was mei own.”

  She smiled. “I knew I was right about you. I just needed to be sure.”

  Joseph slowly stood and looked back and forth between Beverly and Susan. “The only broken heart is mine.”

  She stood as her smile faded. “What do you mean?”

  Joseph walked over to Susan, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. Then he straightened and looked at Beverly. “Danki for supper. I enjoyed the meal very much”—fearful his voice would crack, he paused—“but I don’t want to see you anymore.”

  Then he took long strides out of the kitchen, hurried through the living room, and tried to block out Beverly’s cries for him to please wait as he took his hat from the rack. By the time he got to his buggy, a tear spilled down his cheek.

  He allowed himself to feel the pain all the way to Samuel and Lydia’s house, then dried his eyes and climbed the steps to the porch. September had brought
cooler temperatures, and their windows were closed, but through one of them he could see Samuel and Lydia sitting on the couch. Samuel was bouncing Mattie on his lap. Joseph stood there watching them for a while, envisioning how it might have been with Beverly. He finally knocked on the door.

  “I thought you were going to Beverly’s haus for supper,” Lydia said when she found him there. Samuel walked up behind her, still holding Mattie.

  “Can I come in?” Joseph looked down and hoped he wouldn’t cry again. He didn’t remember the last time he’d wept.

  “Ya, ya.” Lydia put a hand on his arm. “Did something happen?”

  Joseph shuffled to the couch and fell into its cushions. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Susan isn’t Beverly’s niece. She’s her dochder.”

  When no one said anything, Joseph opened his eyes and lifted his head. Samuel’s eyes were wide, and Lydia’s jaw had dropped. “She’s been lying to us the entire time,” he said.

  Samuel paced with Mattie over his shoulder, rubbing the baby’s back, and Lydia sat down in one of the rocking chairs. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why wouldn’t she just tell us Susan is her dochder?”

  Joseph did his best to explain Beverly’s reasons for lying to them.

  Lydia was quiet for a few seconds. “I guess I can understand her thinking, at least a little.”

  “I don’t understand her thinking at all.” Joseph looked up at Samuel. “You don’t either, do you?”

  Samuel shrugged. “I don’t understand women in general.” He winked at Lydia, smiling a little.

  Joseph was glad to see his friends had apparently worked through Lydia’s omission of the truth lately, but this was different. “I told her I didn’t want to see her anymore.”

  He looked back and forth between them, and their expressions mirrored the looks on their faces when he’d told them Susan was Beverly’s daughter. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I know how you and Samuel feel about lying. I don’t condone it either.” Lydia cringed. “But I know how much you like Beverly, and it just seems extreme to cut all ties like that.”