by Amy Lillard
Eunice smiled, then brushed away Gracie’s tears as well as her own fresh ones. “Look at us.” She laughed, but the sound was a bit choked. “I didn’t mean to come in here and make you cry.” She sniffed and turned back toward the door. “I’ll send Leah in when she gets here.”
“Danki,” Gracie said, watching Eunice walk toward the door, yet unable to call her back. Anything she could say now would bring them both more tears. She wished her mother could be there; she wished Tillie was there; she wished she could somehow get the family she so needed and also remain there with Eunice and Abner. She supposed all brides felt a little like this, torn between two loves, two needs, and two desires.
At the door, Eunice stopped, one hand on the knob. “Tell me one thing,” she said, not even turning around to look at Gracie. Maybe that would just make it harder. “Tell me . . . is this really what you want?”
That was the question she had been asking herself, and one she thought she had known the answer to since she was a little girl. And she answered the only way she knew how. “Jah,” she said. “Of course.”
* * *
Matthew had to get out of the barn and away from all the well-meaning male guests. “A small wedding” sounded cozy and intimate, special even. But what they were was a pain. Normally he would have been surrounded by his own attendants, as he waited to get the call that it was time for the ceremony. These attendants would have been his closest relatives with maybe a couple of good friends hanging around to wish him well. But at a small wedding, over half of the male guests were milling around next to him out in the barn. They wanted to treat this like a before-church meeting or a boys’ night out, laughing and slapping him on the back as if his nerves weren’t already shot.
But why would they be? He should be marrying for love. Instead he was marrying for a housekeeper. When he put it like that, it sounded cold, not at all what he wanted from the relationship. He wanted to do things with Gracie, go on trips, picnics, to softball games, and adult singings. He wanted to be a family with her, raising the kids and growing old together. And that’s what she had said she wanted as well. A family, togetherness. It suited them both and that was why they were getting married. So why was he feeling so nervous?
The thought of growing old with Gracie Glick at his side filled him with a sort of unexpected peace. That should have been what made him anxious, not all the chatter around him. But it was the boisterous men who had him looking for a way to escape.
He eased toward the door, laughing and talking, taking a sip of water from time to time. Just a couple more inches and he would be home free. The men around him turned to look at something Abner had in the barn, most likely ornate molding to go in one of the playhouses for Englisch girls that he had been making lately, and Matthew made his escape.
If he remembered right, the girls were supposed to be in the downstairs sewing room. Since this was his second wedding, traditions were broken. There would be no “seating,” when the bride picked the couples who were supposed to sit together at their table. There would be no pre-ceremony with everyone filing down the stairs to get into place.
And the sewing room was toward the back, off to the left opposite the kitchen.
He spotted the window and started toward it. Surely by now she was dressed. The ceremony was about to start.
So why are you out here running around instead of in the barn where you are supposed to be?
He had to talk to her once more before the wedding. One last time to make sure this was really what she wanted. Maybe he should tell her about his decision not to have any more children. But there was so much baggage tied to the decision, he didn’t have time to explain it all before they would be summoned. And he would need to explain, that was for sure. And yet he didn’t feel he was ready for all that would entail. After all, Beth had only been gone three months.
With light knuckles, he rapped on the window. A scream sounded from inside. He’d obviously startled them. Then someone brushed the shade aside and opened the window. It was her cousin, Abby. Then Gracie was coming toward him, a vision in her wedding blue.
“Matthew?” Her brow was furrowed into a concerned frown. “Is everything okay? The children?”
That was just like her, worried about others before herself, worried about his children.
“They’re fine.”
Hannah and Leah had taken the boys while the baby had gone with Mammi Glick. She had taken the girl back into the dawdihaus, telling them to come and get her when the cake was served. Then she shut the door so neither side would be disturbed.
Matthew had laughed out loud at that one. Too funny. Or maybe it was his nerves again. He just couldn’t stop thinking about Gracie and what else she might be getting from the wedding. Family and . . . But he had never found the time to ask. Nor had he found the time to tell her about his adamant desire to not have any more children. People could go around and say that it was beautiful and natural and pretend like it was the greatest thing, but he knew. It was torture for a woman. Torture. And he never wanted Gracie to go through something like that. She had been through so much already.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice changed, became guarded.
“Nothing.” He shook his head and searched for the words he needed to tell her. “Why are you marrying me?”
She laughed, but the sound was nearer to a choke than to mirth. “It’s a little late to be asking me that, isn’t it?” She glanced behind her as if checking to see where everyone in the room was. Of course they were right behind her, listening to every word. News of his question would be the talk of the reception.
Gracie shooed them all away and leaned out the window. “I told you what I wanted.”
“And what about more children?” he asked. It really wasn’t the time, but he couldn’t go through with this without knowing for certain.
She blushed a pretty pink and fanned herself a bit. To her defense it was beginning to get hot out and he could feel himself beginning to sweat through his shirt. Thankfully the dark color would mask that. Or so he had been told.
“I’m happy with what the Lord gives me. He already has a plan. He already knows.”
Matthew nodded. Spoken like a true Amish woman, ready to accept God’s will. He couldn’t say it was the easiest thing to do in all cases, but they had been raised to say the words until it was so. But he found them bitter and offensive.
“Gracie, come on,” someone called from across the room.
“I need to go.” She bit her lip, her nervousness rising back to the surface.
“Just one more thing,” he asked. “How do you know so much about dolphins?”
Chapter Eleven
The wedding went off without a hitch. Well, without any major hitches. Both Henry and Thomas had a hard time sitting still during the preaching, and Hannah had to take them outside. Stephen and Benjamin had complained early on that their shirts were itchy, and they spent most of the service rubbing their necks where the fabric touched. Baby Grace was the only Byler child in attendance who behaved, but that was only because she was asleep. Mammi was good with babies; so many years of practice would do that. Matthew seemed to believe that the baby had something against him, but Gracie knew the truth. He was just worried, and that emotion was carrying over to the baby every time he held her. Once Matthew’s concerns had been addressed, then she would go back to being the loving child that he claimed she was before Beth died.
They ate and played a couple of silly wedding games, then it was time to load up and head home. Jim and David had already taken all of Gracie’s things to Matthew’s house. Now she had the rest of the afternoon to get settled in before supper and bedtime.
The thought made her warm all over again. She never did find out the proper way to act on her wedding night. She supposed now she would just have to play it as it came. But it was the deliberateness of getting all the children into Matthew’s buggy, sitting in the front beside him, Baby Grace in a seat on her lap. Her friends and famil
y all watching as they waved and drove away. All those people knew what tonight would bring. Or they were speculating. It made her feel . . . strange. Exposed somehow, that her night was known to all while she had no idea what would be going on behind their closed doors.
Maybe she was just nervous. After all it was only natural. And then there was Matthew coming to her right before the ceremony, asking her about having other children. He had looked so relieved when she told him that she would take whatever the good Lord gave them. She supposed Matthew wanted a score of children. Most Amish men did. The more children the more hands to get the work done. But she couldn’t hope for too much. She meant what she said. She would happily take whatever the Lord saw fit to bless them with, be it two or ten. Though ten was highly unlikely at her age. And she said a small prayer of thanks that she and her husband had agreed on such a delicate matter.
* * *
On a bus ride to the Gulf coast to help the hurricane victims. That’s how she knew so much about dolphins. The girl who sat next to her had been watching a movie on her phone—a feat Matthew hadn’t even known was possible—and Gracie found it so interesting that she couldn’t help but watch it over her shoulder.
He should have known it was something like that. Of course Gracie was going to help others. That’s just the way she was. And of course she found this movie to be particularly interesting since it dealt with animals and humans helping dolphins all around the world.
The thought made his heart warm once again. She was a good girl, his Gracie, and he was blessed that the Lord had brought them together. So what if theirs wasn’t a “normal” meeting. If nothing else, he could say their courtship was interesting.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked as they traveled toward his home, the home they would now share.
“Nothing.” He shook his head.
“Are we there yet?” Henry asked.
“Does it look like we are?” Stephen retorted.
“Boys.” Matthew gave a stern warning in the one word.
“My shirt is itchy,” Thomas complained.
“I have to pee,” Benjamin said. “Bad.”
“Benjamin Byler, we do not talk like that in front of the womenfolk. If you must announce that condition, please say I need to use the outhouse.”
“But I only need to pee in there,” Benjamin protested.
“Benjamin,” Matthew said. He wished he could see his son’s face. Maybe he would install a couple of those fancy dash mirrors so he could see what was going on in the back without having to turn away from the road.
“Get it right.” Henry nudged him in the ribs.
“Ouch. I need to use the outhouse. Real bad now.”
Matthew dropped his head, then promptly settled his gaze back on the road. Now was not the time for forgetting to pay attention. “You’re just going to have to wait until we get home,” he said to Benjamin. To Gracie he said, “I’m sorry about that.”
But he could see that she was doing her best not to laugh.
“It’s okay. Boys will be boys and all.”
“Yes, and there’s a lot of boy going on at my house.” He paused. “Our house.”
She smiled, and he realized that it was the first time she had smiled just for him all day. At the wedding she had a smile for everyone, but this one was his first. “Our house,” she repeated. “I like the sound of that.”
And strangely enough, he did too.
* * *
Getting home was a frenzy of activity. She supposed she would get used to it. Matthew seemed to take it all in stride, so she had to believe that every homecoming was about the same. All the boys had to be unloaded, which resulted in someone pushing someone else, mostly Henry pushing Stephen and then one twin pushing another, with equal pushing time for each boy. Benjamin had come out of his shell for her, if he’d ever really had one. He had seemed so quiet the first time she met him, but now he was somewhere between Stephen and Henry. He was a little bossy and preferred his way above all else.
“It’s your turn to go check the messages,” Henry was saying as they climbed down. It might be her wedding day, but it was still a Thursday and life kept going. Chores had to be done, children fed, and they still had a dog owner to find.
“Whose turn is it really, Thomas?”
“Mine and Stephen’s,” he admitted.
Stephen kicked at a clot of dirt with the toe of one shoe. Every day they had to go to the phone shanty to check the messages and see if anyone had called about their signs.
They had put signs up from their house clear over to the other side of Eugene Dover’s house. So far no one had said they were missing a dog, but it was still early yet. But the boys loved the little pooch, that much was obvious. And no one wanted to be the one who got the message that she belonged to someone else.
“You boys get on in the house and take off those Sunday clothes,” Matthew said. The boys grumbled a little but did as he said, running as fast as they could to the front door. “And hang up those shirts in your closets. You can wear them to church again on Sunday.”
“Ah, Dat,” went up from all four of them, along with protests that the material was scratchy and uncomfortable.
“I guess I’ll go get Baby Grace settled in.”
He nodded but didn’t tell her there was something else that she needed to be doing. So she picked up the carrier and headed inside, even as she was so very aware of her husband walking behind her.
The house was much as it had been the day she was here a week and a half ago. Clean, with just a little clutter around, the kind that comes from living in a space. There was a stack of mail on the table, a pair of muck boots by the door. Judging by their size, they belonged to Matthew. The quilt that had been thrown over the back of the sofa was pulled down, as if someone had slept there the night before and not returned it to its normal resting place.
She unbuckled Baby Grace, who kicked her legs with glee at being released from her confinement. She gurgled and cooed, and Gracie wanted to bury her nose in that soft-scented neck and inhale that sweet baby scent.
She could hardly believe it. She was here. Married. With a ready-made family of four rowdy boys and the sweetest baby girl any mamm could ask for. Truly God had blessed her.
And her husband . . . well, she might not know everything to expect, but he was a good man, a fine provider and a loving father. Surely everything else would fall into place.
With a contented sigh, she snuggled Baby Grace to her chest and started toward her bedroom. “Let’s go check your diaper, jah?”
She said the words, then walked from the room, so very aware of Matthew’s gaze on her. Was he feeling the same weirdness that she was?
They liked each other. That was to say, she didn’t think ill of him, but they hadn’t had much time to learn anything about the other before they got married. Of course it was going to be a little awkward for a while. But with time everything would smooth itself out.
She opened the door to the nursery but stopped in her tracks. “What’s this?” she asked, gesturing toward the space.
Matthew came up behind her. He scratched the back of his neck and dropped his gaze. “This is your room.”
“My room?”
This had once been Baby Grace’s room. With nothing more than a crib and a rocking chair in one corner. Now there was a small chest of drawers and a twin bed added to the mix.
“My room?” She couldn’t help but repeat herself.
He nodded but still didn’t look her in the eye. “I thought you might want to be close to the baby.”
Her room. Close to the baby.
Close to the baby was right. There was hardly any space to walk. Just enough to come in and turn around. But it was clean, and the furniture seemed sturdy enough. She had stayed in worse. Still, this put quite a crimp in her life plan.
“I—” She had been about to say I thought we would share a room like a normal married couple. The house wasn’t that big, and his room was just
down the hall. She would be able to hear the baby if she started to cry at night. But the words got lodged in her throat. That was okay because Matthew interrupted.
“Our marriage is . . . unconventional and I thought you would be more comfortable here. We can change things around if you want. Paint, or buy new sheets.” He said the last as if just then realizing that the furniture would be impossible to move. There simply wasn’t enough space for rearranging.
“No,” Gracie said quietly. “This is fine.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. But surely her life wouldn’t revolve around separate beds. There would have to come a time . . . and she should be grateful for this grace period to get to know him better before jumping into an even more intimate relationship with him.
Or maybe he just wanted to sleep alone but would visit her from time to time. She had heard of such arrangements. Sometimes when a husband snored and kept the wife awake or stole all the covers. No one had come right out and said that, but women talked. She had overheard many a conversation about marriage. Yet none of it told her how to deal with this situation.
She would just have to wait and see how everything went. Give it a try and trust God.
“Right,” she said with a quick smile. It would all turn out. It always did. The Lord had gotten her this far. There was no turning back now.
She could feel his gaze upon her as she crossed the room and let down the side of the crib. There was no room for a changing table, nor had there been one in there before he had her things moved in. It was a luxury anyway and there were plenty of surfaces that could be used to change diapers without taking up precious space.
He watched her as she changed Baby Grace’s diaper. She knew he was watching and she decided to pretend he wasn’t. Or maybe that it didn’t bother her that he was. At any rate, once she finished her task, she turned, and he was gone. Thank heavens. He was beginning to make her nervous, like she was not capable of a simple wet-diaper change and would mess it all up or drop the baby on the floor. When neither happened, he moved on, most probably going out to check the boys and the chores they were to complete.
