Summer Promise

by Marianne Ellis

She plucked Jane from the high chair and settled her on one hip. There was a flurry of activity as chairs were scooted away from the table, then pushed carefully back in, and dishes were carried to the sink for washing. Matthew shot out the kitchen door with the same energy that he’d come in with.

  “That one has only one speed, I see,” Sarah remarked.

  Amelia laughed. “Oh, no. I believe he can go faster than that. Forgive me, Sarah. I did not mean to interrupt you before, but I could see the young ones getting restless. You were talking about Victor King?”

  “Ja.” Miriam turned back to her sister. “Why did Victor want to see me?”

  “He has a . . . situation, I guess you could say,” Sarah replied. “And he wondered if the solution might be of help to you as well. His younger brother, Eli, has recently come to stay.” She glanced around the table. “Though you all know that, of course. Victor wondered if you needed extra help at the farm stand and, if so, if you would be willing to take Eli on.”

  “Eli King wants to work at the farm stand?” Miriam echoed. All of a sudden, her brain felt slow, as if she were trying to do a puzzle but was missing some vital piece. Though she knew Victor well, she had met Eli only once, a few weeks earlier, when he had first arrived. He had come to stay with Victor from his parents’ house somewhere in the Midwest, Miriam recalled. She couldn’t quite remember why, but she thought there had been trouble of some kind.

  “To tell you the truth,” Sarah said, “I don’t know what Eli wants, and neither does Victor. I think that’s just the problem. Victor says his brother is at loose ends.” Sarah’s brow furrowed. “He’s hurt his leg and can’t work in the fields? Am I getting this right?” Her head swiveled between Daniel and Lucas.

  “Ja.” Daniel nodded. “There was an accident, back home. Buggy racing, I think John Miller said it was, though I don’t think this is widely known. Eli was injured, and another boy as well. Eli’s mother is a widow with a houseful of children to raise, all on her own now. I think she was hoping that having an older man around the house would be good for Eli. Help to settle him down. Since his father’s death, he’s grown a little wild.”

  “So Victor wants his wild younger brother to work at the farm stand?” Miriam asked. “He wants me to be responsible for him?”

  “But that’s a great idea!” Sarah cried, her voice riding right over Miriam’s.

  Miriam stared across the table at her younger sister, struggling to contain her rising annoyance and dismay.

  “What’s so great about it?” she inquired.

  “It will give him responsibility and focus, don’t you see?” Sarah answered promptly. “The same things we try to give the kids I work with in San Francisco. Victor’s right, really. It’s an excellent solution to both your problem and his.”

  In spite of her best efforts, Miriam felt her hold on her temper slipping. “I didn’t know I had a problem.”

  But Sarah seemed oblivious. She shifted in her chair to face Daniel. “Don’t you think so?”

  “Decisions about the farm stand are really Miriam’s to make,” Daniel said, his voice cautious. He glanced across the table at Miriam, and then turned his attention back to Sarah. “But I must confess I think the idea seems a sound one.”

  “But I already have help,” Miriam protested as, finally, her brain provided the perfect counterargument. “Leah Gingerich, Rachel Miller’s niece, came to the farm stand today. She has asked if she might help me. Bishop John and Rachel have given their permission, and I have already said yes.”

  She looked across the table at Daniel, willing him to meet her eyes. “I am sorry to spring this on you as a surprise, but there simply hasn’t been time to tell you.”

  “But that’s even better,” Sarah said. “I can help while I’m here, but that will only be until the end of the summer, when I have to go back. If you take on Eli, you’ll still have two helpers when I leave, not just one.”

  Miriam held her breath. Now would be the time, she thought. The time for Daniel to speak up and support her, his wife.

  “The decision is Miriam’s to make,” Daniel said once more, and Miriam felt herself start to relax. Then Daniel went on, “But I must admit that what Sarah says makes sense to me. Having Eli come to work at the farm stand could be a good thing for all. And there is no reason why he and Leah cannot work together.”

  Sarah actually clapped her hands. “So that’s settled then,” she said. She looked across the table at Miriam. “Right?”

  No, it’s not.

  The thought was so loud and clear in Miriam’s mind that for a moment she feared she had spoken it aloud.

  But no one at the table seemed to think anything was amiss. No one except Miriam. And she knew exactly what the problem was. Daniel had taken Sarah’s side.

  “Daniel is my husband. Of course I will do whatever he thinks is best,” she finally said aloud.

  Daniel’s head jerked toward her, his smile entirely gone. “Oh, but—I did not mean—” he began.

  But Miriam cut him off by getting to her feet. “Now then,” she said briskly, “surely that is enough talk about the farm stand for one evening. I think it’s high time we got these dishes done.”

  “Oh, don’t bother about those,” Amelia said as she got to her feet as well. Miriam kept her expression determined yet neutral as she looked into her mother-in-law’s face. Was it her imagination, or did she see a certain compassion in Amelia’s eyes?

  “I am going to give you the same instructions I gave the young ones: It’s a lovely evening. Go outside and enjoy yourselves. You’ll have a fine night to walk home.”

  “No, Amelia,” Miriam protested. “I can’t walk away and leave you with so much work.”

  “Don’t worry,” Annaliese said. “I’ll help.”

  “No, you won’t,” Amelia insisted. She put her hands on her hips. “Gracious, what’s the matter with you all? Doing a few more dishes won’t do me any harm.” She extended her hands and regarded them thoughtfully. “Well, perhaps a few more wrinkles on my fingers.” She gave a wry grin. “To match the ones around my eyes.”

  “Mamm,” Daniel said. He got up from the table and bent to kiss his mother on the cheek. “You are generous, as always.”

  “Not to mention good-looking,” Lucas said. He, too, got to his feet to give his mother a kiss. “Get Daed to help you,” he said in a loud whisper. “He doesn’t really do much of anything around this place.”

  “I heard that,” Martin said.

  “Thank you for the meal, Amelia,” Sarah said. “I don’t think there’s a finer cook in all the district.”

  “Flattery will get you another invitation,” Amelia said with a smile. “Now, shoo, all of you! Let an old couple have some peace and quiet.”

  Daniel’s father gave a snort. “I will see you tomorrow, then,” he said.

  “Ja, Daed,” Daniel said as he held the door open for the others. “Danki. I appreciate the help.”

  “We appreciate the help,” Miriam said. Then she stepped through the door. She paused for a moment, waiting for the others to join her. Amelia was right, she thought. It was a fine night. The fierce blue of the sky at midday had deepened to a lustrous indigo. The moon was up early, a glowing crescent of white in the sky.

  “It’s a firefly night,” Annaliese said.

  “Ja!” Miriam replied. “Though we do not see so many now.”

  “I will see you tomorrow,” Lucas said.

  Daniel nodded as he, Miriam, and Sarah turned in the direction of home. Just as they turned away, Miriam thought she saw Lucas reach for Annaliese’s hand. Annaliese snatched it away, only to have Lucas reach for it again. From somewhere in the yard, Miriam heard happy shrieks and peals of laughter, Matthew chasing his sisters in some sort of game. She felt her heart swell with a bittersweet combination of joy and pain.

  “Well, that was a l
ovely evening, don’t you think?” Sarah asked as the three began to walk toward their house, Daniel in the middle with Miriam and Sarah on either side.

  “Ja,” Miriam answered. “It is always a pleasure to go to Martin and Amelia’s home.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” Daniel answered, his tone just as stilted and formal as Miriam’s. “And I know Mamm appreciates the gift you brought. Was that the last of the blackberry jam?”

  “Ja,” Miriam answered once more.

  Sarah’s gaze flickered between Daniel and Miriam as she spoke, as if she sensed that there was something wrong but wasn’t quite certain of the cause.

  “I’m sorry about the cell phone call,” she suddenly burst out. “I know I should have mentioned that I had the phone with me. But it was just so lovely to see everyone that I forgot. It won’t happen again, I—”

  At just that moment, the phone went off once again.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake!” Sarah cried. She hung back, taking the phone out of her pocket. Miriam knew the second her sister answered the call. The shrill ring cut off.

  “That’s three calls from work today,” Miriam said after a moment. “I hope that nothing is seriously wrong there.”

  “Sarah is very capable,” Daniel said.

  “Ja,” Miriam agreed. “She is.”

  “Then I’m sure she will sort things out.”

  They topped a small rise and now Miriam could see her own home below them. It looked quiet and peaceful in the still summer night, as if no turmoil could ever penetrate its sturdy walls. Sarah was still behind them, higher up on the hillside. The sound of her sister’s voice floated down to Miriam, but she wasn’t close enough to hear the words. Daniel moved forward and Miriam stepped quickly to catch up. Together they started down the last hill, toward home.

  Did Lucas and Annaliese truly hold hands? Miriam wondered suddenly. Like a young, courting couple, not one who had been married for nearly five years and had a small child. Miriam cast a sidelong glance at Daniel. She could still just make out his features in the growing twilight. What would happen if she reached for his hand? Would she feel it curl around hers and hold as tight as it had when they were courting?

  “Lucas told me a fine thing today,” Daniel said as they walked along.

  “Ach, ja?” Miriam said.

  “They are going to have another boppli.”

  Miriam stumbled. Daniel reached quickly to steady her, his fingers closing around her upper arm.

  “Oh, but that is wonderful news!” Miriam stammered, the truth of her words clear in the tone of her voice even as her heart bled a little at the news. “I wish them every joy. Are they hoping for a boy this time?”

  “Probably,” Daniel said. “I am glad to hear you are so happy for them,” he said, his words all but tumbling over themselves, he spoke so quickly.

  Miriam moved just as swiftly, stepping back, pulling out of Daniel’s grasp. “What?”

  “I only meant,” Daniel began. He made as if to reach for her again, then stopped as Miriam took another step back. “It’s just that I wondered how to tell you.”

  “You wondered how to tell me,” Miriam echoed. “Why was that? Did you think I would not wish them joy? Do you really believe that I would be so selfish just because you and I—”

  “Sorry, sorry!” Sarah’s voice sliced across the conversation like a knife, and for once, Miriam was glad of the interruption. “No more tonight, I absolutely promise,” Sarah went on as she came, panting, up to them. “I’ve turned the wretched thing off. Though, actually, they were calling with good news this time. A kid in our program who ran away from home last week has come back, thanks to God!”

  Sarah’s footsteps slowed, then stopped. In the dim light, Miriam saw her sister take in the space that separated Miriam and Daniel, the way they faced each other, like adversaries. Sarah’s head swiveled between them as she tried to see the expressions their faces.

  “What is it?” Sarah asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Miriam spoke up quickly and firmly, relieved that her voice did not falter, pleased that she had been quick to take control. “In fact, Daniel has some good news to share, but I will let him tell it. I am going to walk on ahead if you don’t mind. There are some things I must do to be ready for tomorrow, and I’d like to get a head start on them. But you two take your time. Amelia is right. It’s a lovely evening.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Miriam turned away from Daniel and turned toward home. She was still so close he could have stopped her with a touch, but Daniel did not reach out a second time. He simply stood, tall and silent as a fence post.

  It was Sarah who protested her leaving. “Miriam,” she said, “wait!”

  But Miriam did not wait. She kept on going, her legs churning faster and faster as she moved downhill.

  Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run, she thought. Running would look, would feel, too much like running away. And there’s nowhere to run to, she realized. There was only home. Home, without the father who had raised her, without the children Miriam longed to raise herself.

  Miriam’s body gave a great shudder and tears began to stream down her cheeks, hot enough to scald. Miriam had no idea when they had started. Now that they had, it seemed to her that they might never stop.

  All that evening, she had been at cross-purposes with Daniel. They had been husband and wife for six years, and yet he didn’t seem to understand the first thing about her. How was it possible that they shared the same bed and yet had become strangers to each other? Was this simply because Sarah was back, reminding Daniel of what he’d given up?

  Miriam wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Not so long ago, she would have said that Daniel was the center of her life. Daniel was where her heart found solace and joy. Now she had become so estranged from him, so lost, that Miriam wondered how she would ever find her way back again.

  Seven

  Leah’s eyes flew wide open at first light. Had she slept at all? Sleep had seemed impossible when she’d gone to bed the night before. How could she sleep when there was so much to look forward to? Today was her first official day of work at the Stony Field Farm Stand. Leah didn’t think she’d ever been more excited about anything in her whole life.

  She tossed back the covers and rolled out of bed. She pulled up the bedclothes and then smoothed them so that they lay flat and tidy. She plumped up the pillow, then plopped it at the head of the bed. Leah had been performing this morning ritual for so long that she no longer even thought about it. It was simply what she did each and every morning.

  In spite of her excitement, Leah paused to look down at her handiwork. She had made the summer quilt for her bed herself. It was a log cabin square, but the setting was called streak of lightning. The finished squares were arranged so that the sides with the same colors were adjacent to one another and formed diagonal zigzags from the top of the quilt to the bottom.

  Like most quilts in Plain country, Leah’s was made of solid colors. She had sewn the pink and green blocks together on Rachel’s treadle sewing machine, but she had quilted the finished top by hand. The stitches were small and regular, evenly spaced, just the way quilting stitches should be. Aenti Rachel had praised the work, saying that Leah had a good hand with her needle and a good eye for color.

  Someday I am going to make quilts to sell to Englischers, Leah thought. The Englischers loved the Plain quilts. If she could make quilts to sell, she could begin to contribute to her aenti and onkel’s household expenses. Or she could put some money away, getting ready for the day when she would have a household of her own. Perhaps if Miriam was satisfied with her work at the farm stand, Leah would be able to sell her quilts there.

  You won’t be able to sell a single thing if you’re late your first morning, Leah, she thought. Filled with fresh purpose, Leah left her bedroom and marched downstairs to wash her hands and
face for breakfast. Though she had absolutely no idea how she would manage to eat a single bite with all the butterflies dancing in her stomach.

  * * *

  “Ach, Leah, gut, there you are,” Miriam said. At the tone of Miriam’s voice, Leah’s already dancing stomach did a quick somersault. Miriam sounded so flustered!

  “You know Victor King, don’t you?” Miriam asked.

  “Ja,” Leah said, doing her best to hide her surprise. Of course she knew Victor King. He lived right down the road from her aenti and onkel. At the moment, he was sitting on the front seat of his farm wagon with a young man at his side. Leah snuck a quick glance at the back of the wagon. There was no produce to sell.

  “Gude mariye, Victor,” she said politely.

  “Gude mariye, Leah,” Victor responded pleasantly.

  “And this is Victor’s brother Eli,” Miriam went on. “He’s going to be working at the farm stand, too.”

  Leah bit down, hard, on the tip of her tongue. She was pretty sure it gave her face a pained expression, but it was better than the alternative: crying out that it wasn’t fair. That working at the farm stand was supposed to be her special job.

  “Oh, ja?” she said, her voice sounding foolish even to her own ears.

  “Ja,” Victor said shortly. He gave Eli a nudge. “Get down now, kind. I am late for the fields already. I’ll come back at the end of the day.”

  At his brother’s words, Eli’s pale face flushed. Mine would, too, Leah thought in unexpected sympathy, if somebody called me a child. Why on earth hadn’t Eli just walked to the farm stand? The King farm wasn’t that far away.

  Following his older brother’s instructions, Eli swung down. As he stepped away from the wagon, moving toward Miriam and Leah, she could see that his gait was uneven. He pulled his right leg up short, as if putting his full weight on it was painful. That explained why he hadn’t walked over, Leah thought, and most likely why he wasn’t helping in the fields. But surely Eli could have borrowed Victor’s wagon and driven himself to the farm stand. Why make his brother take time away from work at one of the busiest times of the year?