A Family for Gracie

by Amy Lillard

  “And wash our clothes?” Thomas asked.

  “With our help, jah.”

  Thomas made a face. He hated wash day.

  “I guess that won’t be so bad.” Stephen nodded as if to say his word was final. He had become such a stand-in parent during these last couple of months. And he was only seven. With any luck, having Gracie around would allow him to go back to being a little boy. But part of Matthew suspected that losing his mother brought out a personality trait in Stephen that had been there all along.

  “I’m glad you’re getting married,” Benjamin said.

  The words melted Matthew’s heart. He knew they didn’t mean everything they implied, but he was glad to hear them all the same.

  “One question,” Henry said, holding up his forefinger. “Can she get that recipe for chicken and ducklings?”

  * * *

  Gracie pinched the bridge of her nose and willed the throbbing to go away. Of course it didn’t work. But she tried. At least it held back the tears that threatened. She had never realized how much went into a wedding until this week. The house had been a flurry of activity, trying to get it all prepared. Food had to be bought and stored and prepared and whew! It was enough to make her head hurt and spin.

  Eunice seemed to be taking it all in stride, but that was Eunice. Not much could ruffle her aunt. Gracie supposed that after having children who left the Amish and came back, one who had just left, and everything else that Eunice had experienced in her life, a quick wedding was a piece of cake.

  And speaking of cake . . . She took a deep breath and surveyed the mess that had been Eunice’s kitchen. She had had one simple task: Stay and watch the ingredients until Eunice came back.

  They had been just about to start mixing the batter when someone knocked on the door. David. His new sow had gotten out and he needed help bringing her back in. She was currently standing in the middle of the road. Just standing there. Not moving an inch. If she kept this up she was surely to be hit by a car. So far two had gone around her while David had tried to urge her out of the road and back toward her pen, but the stubborn pig wouldn’t move. Abner and Jim had gone into town on some errand or another and couldn’t help. But since Agnes—the sow—was due to have her first litter of piglets since David had started his side business of raising pigs, he couldn’t leave her there or get too rough with her. He needed a softer touch. He needed Eunice.

  Plus it didn’t hurt that Eunice seemed to be the only one the stubborn pig would listen to. So she had wiped her hands on her apron, told Gracie to keep an eye on everything, and headed out with her second son.

  “Girl, what happened in here?”

  She whirled around at the sound of the voice. Mammi.

  “I—I—” she stuttered but couldn’t get the words out. How could she explain that she had been too distracted by preparations for the wedding and had accidentally knocked over the sack of flour? She got the broom to clean it up, then tucked it under her arm and used the little hand broom to sweep everything into the dustpan. She straightened and turned to empty it into the trash, but the full-sized broom was still tucked under one arm. She ended up clearing the table with the handle, tipping over the milk and sending the eggs crashing to the floor. The sugar too, flew out in an arc of sparkling white granules. The sack fell over on one side and emptied its contents onto the floor. She jumped then, reaching for the bag to save what she could. All she succeeded in doing was tossing the newly swept-up flour into the air. Now she had flour all down her front. And dust. She could see it on her cheeks. It was probably in her hair and on her prayer kapp. She also toppled the can of shortening and sent the vanilla flying. It didn’t spill since it was in a plastic bottle with the lid on tight. There was something to be thankful for. But when she surveyed the remainder of the mess she found it very hard to find any joy in this situation.

  Just the vanilla. And that wasn’t enough. Tears rose into her eyes once again. Was this God trying to tell her that she was making a mistake? Or maybe He was testing her, making sure that this was what she truly wanted. Either way, she was worn-out, fragile, and unable to hold it all together. In an instant she crumpled onto the floor in a fine puddle of flour, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed.

  “What happened?” She heard Eunice’s concerned voice over the sound of her own sobs, but she couldn’t pull herself together.

  “I’m not sure,” Mammi said. “I guess I scared her.”

  Gracie shook her head but didn’t take her hands from her face, didn’t stop crying.

  She didn’t want to see. Not just the mess that she had created, but the looks she was certain were passing between her aunt and her grandmother.

  “If you’d come out of your room more,” Eunice said. “Or maybe not as quietly.”

  “I can’t help that I’m quiet,” Mammi said. “Old bones don’t weigh much.”

  Their voices moved around her, but Gracie didn’t take her hands from in front of her face. She didn’t want to see. Or be seen. Maybe she would stay like this until after the wedding. At least her crying had subsided from racking sobs to little hiccups.

  “We’re going to help you up now, child.”

  She shook her head and reluctantly took her hands from her face. “No. I got it.” She couldn’t let the two of them pull her from the floor like a rag doll. Mammi was just getting over a broken hip and Eunice was spry, but not nearly as young as she pretended to be.

  Gracie waved their hands away and reached for the edge of the table to pull herself up. She stuck her fingers in the sugar and her composure slipped a bit. No. She could do this. She had to keep this together. She couldn’t fall apart every time the least little thing happened. She would never make it to the wedding.

  But the tears came anyway.

  She managed to get to her feet, but her dress was covered, front and back. Since she had crumpled onto the floor she was now soaked with milk, bits of eggshell, globs of raw egg, and a mixture of flour and sugar both wet and dry.

  “Nerves, I guess,” Mammi said.

  “Uhmm-hmmm . . .” Eunice murmured as she dunked one corner of a nearby towel into the bucket of water sitting on the counter. Another plus. Gracie hadn’t knocked that down.

  Eunice dabbed at her cheeks, made a face, then wet the entire cloth. Gracie supposed she was a bigger mess than she even realized. But Eunice didn’t give up. She kept on gently wiping until she was satisfied with the result.

  “There,” she said. “What’s got you in such a tizzy?”

  Could she tell her? Gracie didn’t know if she could bring up the subject of a wedding night. She had never talked about such matters with anyone but Tillie, and Tillie had known even less than Gracie had at the time.

  “I—uh . . .”

  “Spit it out, girl,” Mammi said.

  “I’ m worried about the wedding night.” Once the words were out she wished she could call them back, for several reasons. One being the sheer embarrassment of asking her aunt and her grandmother about such things. She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s dumb. You both probably don’t even remember your wedding night.”

  Oops. Not the right thing to say. Eunice looked like she’d been conked over the head with a frying pan.

  “What I mean is”—Gracie tried again—“it’s been a long time.” Still not good. The stunned look remained on Eunice’s face. Gracie couldn’t even make herself look at Mammi. Meeting Eunice’s gaze was enough. “Uh, things change?” She hadn’t meant it to sound like a question.

  Mammi cackled and slapped a hand against her thigh. “Well, girl, it may have been a long time, but I’m sure it all works the same.”

  Eunice pulled herself out of her stupor and smiled. Gracie couldn’t tell if it was a genuine smile or one meant to hide her real feelings. “I’m pretty sure it’s remained the same since I got married too.”

  And here was the second reason why she didn’t want those words floating around. Now she had to actually talk to her aunt and her grand
mother about matters that were so very, very private. They might not want to even discuss a few things.

  Gracie let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Whew. That’s good to know.”

  “So what did you want to know?” Eunice asked. If Gracie was correct, the woman’s face was a little pinker than normal, especially considering they hadn’t even started baking yet.

  “It’s okay. Really,” she said. “We need to clean up a bit.”

  That was an understatement. Flour and sugar were still strewn about. Milk was puddled on the floor and egg dripped from the edge of the table.

  Eunice frowned. “It is a little messy in here.”

  Mammi laughed. “I bet that was a sight to see. All that flour going everywhere.”

  A chuckle escaped Gracie as well. She was entirely too high-strung these days, and the laughter just kept coming. She laughed until tears made tracks through the remaining traces of flour on her face. She laughed until she bent over in the middle, her side aching from the exertion. She laughed until Eunice sent Mammi a concerned look that neither one of them seemed to notice she saw.

  She just couldn’t stop laughing. Or maybe she knew somehow this was the way out of a tricky position.

  “I’ll go get my broom,” Mammi said, and started for the door to the dawdihaus.

  Eunice wrapped an arm around Gracie and led her onto the back porch. “Go ahead and take that dress off,” Eunice said. “It’ll have to be washed for sure.”

  Gracie, still unable to reply through her giggles, did as she was told.

  Eunice handed her a thin cotton robe. “Put this on so you have something to wear back to your room.”

  Again she complied without a word. She needed to get a handle on herself, but she felt as if she were sliding away down some slippery slope of wedding jitters and doubts.

  “Go on to your room. We’ll talk about this after supper.”

  Gracie just nodded, unable to stop the wild chuckles that were quickly turning into tears of sadness once more.

  Wedding jitters. She wasn’t certain those two words were enough to express the myriad of emotions racing through her, but for now they would have to do.

  * * *

  Thankfully the talk scheduled for after supper never came. Eunice and Mammi allowed Gracie to cry herself out, then sleep it off in a two-and-a-half-hour nap. By the time she woke, Eunice was elbow deep in supper preparations.

  “It’s Friday.” And the Gingeriches’ usual family dinner. Gracie wiped her eyes to wake herself up. She only succeeded in discovering just how puffy her eyes were after her meltdown that afternoon. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Leah and Hannah will be here any minute. They can help.” Eunice waved away Gracie’s apology and sent her to the water pump to wash her face and press a cold rag to her swollen eyes.

  Leah and Hannah were coming. And she knew her cousins would have questions. If Eunice and Mammi didn’t tell them about her crying jag this afternoon, then surely they would see it on her face. And not just in pink, puffy eyes. Her cousins were too astute by far and they would see through any hastily pasted-on smile she might conjure between now and then.

  She managed to get a little of the redness out of her skin and some of the puffiness, but it wasn’t enough. Hannah took one look at her and nudged Leah. Thankfully neither one said anything. All through the meatloaf and mashed potatoes, the green beans, salad, and peanut butter spread. Not even during the pie, though she felt their gazes land on her from time to time. They were biding their time until they could get her alone. After dessert and the table was cleared, after the dishes were washed and put away, the floor swept, and the counters wiped down. After the men had gone outside to have a smoke, then back into the barn for a last minute or two of work before Bible reading and bed. It was the in-between that scared her. The in-between when she would be ambushed. Her cousins would grab her by the elbows and steer her out onto the porch. Then they would push her—albeit, gently—into the swing and plop down, one on either side of her.

  “Spill it,” Leah said, not giving Hannah time to speak. “We want to know everything.”

  Chapter Six

  Gracie swallowed hard. How could she answer her cousin and still save face? “There’s nothing—”

  “We don’t believe that either,” Hannah put in.

  She didn’t think she could say the words again. Yet these were her cousins, as close to her as sisters, despite the age difference and the time they had spent away.

  But they were closer to her age than either Mammi or Eunice. And perhaps they could help her . . .

  No. She couldn’t say all of that again. She knew the basics, and that should be enough. She was just experiencing wedding jitters, just as Mammi had said.

  “I’m just nervous.” Perfect. She had managed to dodge Leah and Hannah’s caring probing and still tell the truth.

  The twins shared a look, one that she had seen them exchange too many times to count. They were trying to decide if she was telling the truth or not. From there they would decide if they would call her on a lie and push further into the truth.

  “Nervous?” Hannah finally asked.

  “Jah.” Gracie cleared her throat.

  “About what?” This from Leah.

  Gracie froze. They believed her, but they wanted to know more. That’s just how they were.

  She shrugged as if the whole thing was hardly worth mentioning. “You know, like what to expect when I’m married.”

  Leah and Hannah exchanged another look. Every time they did that, Gracie’s heart skipped a beat. It was as if they knew what she was thinking, and they knew that the other knew as well.

  Or so she thought. That idea was so twisted in her head she wasn’t sure what she meant.

  Hannah leaned forward and captured Gracie’s gaze. “Are you talking about in the bedroom?” Her voice was quiet and still seemed to echo. The men in the barn probably heard. They were most likely out there laughing at her right now.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. Was she shaking it too much? Should she calm it down? “No, no, not at all.” Her voice had taken on the tone of the bishop when he started blustering about things. Not his preaching, but little things like hemlines and apron colors. Could the twins hear the difference?

  She stopped shaking her head, only then realizing that her words had long since ended. Yet her denial continued and had turned into something akin to the motions of the little dog with the loose head that Sam Yoder had put into the front window of his buggy. Of course the bishop made him take it out the very minute that he saw it, but Gracie had caught a glimpse. The dog was sort of cute. She suspected that she looked a little ab im kopp. Off in the head.

  “It’s just . . .” she started, hoping to recover a little of her dignity. If only her mother were alive. She would have explained everything a bit more. Or not. The Amish weren’t known for talking about such private matters. Even among family members. But Leah and Hannah were different. They had both lived Englisch lives. If someone were truly going to talk to her about something so intimate, it would be them. They were the only two people she knew who might be able to prepare her for this . . . event. She should ask. Yet she found herself saying, “What will we talk about?”

  Another look passed between the twins.

  “The kids, most probably.”

  “Yes, of course.” She hadn’t been thinking about the children. She had only been thinking of endless hours—daylight hours—that had to be filled with something. That was almost as scary as the nighttime hours they would spend alone. At least part of that time they would be asleep. As for the other . . . she had changed her mind. She didn’t want to know any more than she already did.

  “Just be yourself,” Leah advised. “Everything else will fall into place.”

  * * *

  Just be yourself.

  That was a bigger chore than it sounded, considering she felt like a stranger in her own skin.

  After Leah had given her th
e questionable advice, the subject had changed and Tillie was the focus. What she might be doing. If she was happy. When they would hear from her next.

  Talking about Tillie gave Gracie a whole new set of emotions to deal with. Growing up, she and Tillie had been close. Gracie had always imagined that Tillie would be a part of her wedding. Now her cousin didn’t even know that she was getting married. Gracie more than wondered if she was happy. She wanted to go find her and bring her back before she did irreparable damage to her standing in the community. It was a miracle that the bishop was allowing Hannah to return. If not for Aaron’s three little ones and the son that Hannah and Aaron shared, he might not have. Only the good Lord knew for certain.

  And Gracie wanted Tillie back. It was as simple as that. She had never really liked Melvin, only did stuff with the two of them out of her love for Tillie. But Melvin was no good. He had a wandering heart, a desire to work on Englisch engines, and a gleam in his eyes that Gracie knew meant he was dreaming of faraway places.

  Tillie was more like her. Amish through and through, wanting nothing more from life than a strong house, a stable husband, and a passel of little ones running around. Gracie somehow knew that with Melvin, Tillie would never have that. At least Gracie wouldn’t have to worry about that with Matthew. He seemed to be well grounded. Another plus.

  She wondered what Tillie would think of Matthew. She would like him, Gracie decided. After she got to know him, of course. Matthew could be a little intimidating at first. Okay, a lot. But Gracie saw through most of it to the hurting man underneath. She was fairly certain Tillie would be able to see that as well.

  Or maybe that was just what Gracie wanted to see.

  She shook the thought away. And turned to the sound of a buggy rattling down the lane. She couldn’t believe this. She and Matthew were going on a date. Well, no one had actually called it that, but it’s exactly what it was. They were headed out to Sarah Hostetler’s sweet shop. Matthew had suggested they get a special treat for the children for after the wedding. Sort of a wedding surprise. Gracie thought the idea was brilliant and sweet, and she hoped with all her might that Matthew was the one who came up with it. Big, tough, glowering Matthew deciding to get candy for his kids. But she had a feeling that Eunice or Anna fed him the idea. Or maybe Hannah, since she was in a similar situation with becoming a stepmother. That made more sense. And it made Gracie a bit sad. Though she was impressed that he was going through with it.