by Jerry Eicher
Mary hurried out of the schoolhouse and up the road, scolding her own thoughts for moving too quickly. Yes, their relationship was progressing, but they were not even officially dating yet, and there had been no talk of marriage.
There was no sign of anyone working when she passed the Yoders’ fields. It would only take a few moments to reach the Hochstetlers’ and change out of her school dress. She burst through the front door, startling Lavina, who was working in the kitchen.
“Is something wrong, dear?”
Mary caught her breath. “Not at all! I’m going to make supper for the Yoder brothers tonight.”
“How did that come about?” Lavina asked, clearly pleased.
Mary skipped the question. “I have to make my best impression. I’m thinking mashed potatoes and gravy, a roast, fresh rolls, corn . . . oh, and chocolate cake, or do you think apple dumplings would be better? Maybe with molasses cookies? Perhaps I should call a driver to get me to the store more quickly. Oh dear, I may need to just buy a dessert at this point. I don’t want dinner to be late.”
Lavina had never seen Mary so scattered. She smiled to herself, but spoke with the kind of authority that comes from years of experience. “However this happened, you need to calm down. You’re making too much of a fuss. A simple casserole is goot enough.”
Mary shook her head. “They still have leftover casserole from moving day. I want to do something special.”
Lavina thought for a moment. “I suppose you’re right, but not a roast and mashed potatoes on a Monday afternoon. There is too much risk, I’m thinking.”
“What then?”
“Something simple. How about what I’m making for our supper, baked chicken and scalloped potatoes? Shoofly pie for dessert? The boys will find that nourishing and delicious at the same time.”
Mary hesitated, clearly not convinced.
“You’re only missing the chicken. I saw what Silvia left the men last week in their pantry. Here, take some chicken from me so you don’t have to go to the store. Then you’ll have time to make the pie.”
Mary saw the wisdom in her suggestion, smiling at the thought of baking for Marcus. She imagined the smells wafting through the kitchen as the boys came in from the chores. She knew she could make a mean shoofly pie with a buttery, flaky crust and a rich, gooey molasses filling. It wasn’t fancy, but it would hit the spot. “I can’t thank you enough. I really can’t.”
“Anything to help along your budding relationship,” Lavina said with a smile. “I was beginning to lose hope in Marcus.”
“We’re moving slowly, and rushing in headlong at the same time.”
Lavina chuckled. “Those are the best ones, sometimes. Go change and get over there.”
Mary rushed upstairs and was back in ten minutes. Lavina had the chicken ready in a paper bag and had added a Tupperware container of biscuits she’d baked earlier in the day. Mary gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and plunged out the door. She hurried across the field and, arriving at the Yoders’ house, pushed open the squeaking door and hollered inside, “I’m here!”
Marcus appeared at once, his face and shirt covered in straw. A grin spread across his face. “Sorry for the way I’m looking, but I’m glad you came.”
“I suppose supper goes down well either way,” Mary teased. “At least my supper does.”
He didn’t laugh. “We’ll clean up before we come into the house.”
She shook her finger at him. “Nothing more than you would if your mam was making supper.”
He hesitated. “Okay. What is for supper?”
“Secret,” she chirped, and closed the barn door on him before Marcus could ask any more questions.
An hour later, Marcus waited impatiently as the last cow made her cumbersome way out of the barn. He brushed another piece of straw from his shirt.
“You’re spotless,” Mose commented dryly.
Marcus didn’t answer. Working in the barn didn’t leave a man exactly clean, but they were both hungry.
“Let’s go eat,” he said.
Mose was already on the way, and slammed the back barn door shut. The cows lowed softly behind in the barnyard. They walked together across the darkened yard, towards the house where a light burned brightly in the kitchen window.
“Are you finally dating the girl?” Mose asked.
“She’s making supper for us.”
“You’d better not let her get away from you,” Mose warned.
“I’m not planning to,” Marcus told him, surprised at the vehemence in his own voice.
“That sounds better.” Mose held open the door of the wash room, and they entered. A small kerosene lamp was burning at the sink.
Mose grinned. “What service do we have tonight?”
“What do you expect?” Marcus shot back.
Mose’s grin grew. “The man is changing his tune. I like this.”
“Just wash,” Marcus retorted, and waited his turn.
The table was set as usual when they stepped into the kitchen, with the supper dishes spread out on the vinyl tablecloth.
“Surprise,” Mary chirped.
“Chicken and scalloped potatoes!” Marcus seemed genuinely pleased, taking his seat at the head of the table. “And is that shoofly pie I smell coming from the oven? How did you have time to make all this?”
Mary smiled, arranging the warmed rolls on a plate and taking her spot opposite Marcus.
“There is nothing better than chicken and potatoes,” Mose added.
Mary couldn’t contain the warmth she felt spreading through her. Everything had turned out just right. The chicken thighs had crispy, golden skin, and at the last minute she’d found a jar of green beans in the cupboard, which she heated on the stove, then sprinkled them with salt, transferred them to a serving dish, and placed a large dollop of butter on top to begin melting. She had arranged the sliced potatoes neatly in concentric circles in a pie plate and then smothered them in rich cream and fresh eggs that she had whisked together. Then she’d added grated cheddar cheese, which now bubbled invitingly on top.
Marcus forced himself not to stare at Mary, turning his eyes down as they bowed their heads in silent prayer. A great joy filled his heart, and words of thankfulness wanted to burst out of his mouth.
He sufficed with an “Amen,” but wanted to add a thousand more. He gave Mary a warm smile instead.
She glowed with happiness, passing the food bowls to him first. He helped himself, slowly, lest he spill on the table and embarrass himself. When he finished, Mary took the bowls from his hands and passed them to Mose. Only then did she fill her own plate. Marcus ate, and couldn’t believe how much he had come to love and admire this woman.
CHAPTER 24
MARY LINGERED ON ELMER MILLER’S FRONT PORCH SWING AFTER the hymn singing that first week in December. Light from the gas lanterns inside streamed through the front window and across the floor in a soft glow. The happy chatter of the young people was a distant whisper through the house walls. A few of the steady couples had their horses hitched to the buggies, and the girls were getting ready to climb in and leave. She had watched this scene often back in the home community, but never with this longing in her heart, or with a full understanding of what created the intense interest between the dating couples.
Her sisters would chuckle if they could see her now, sitting here alone, wishing that Marcus would come out of the house and join her. Of course, once they set eyes on Marcus they would understand fully. She was sure about that.
“A perfect fit,” Esther would say.
“Couldn’t have found someone better for you myself,” Phoebe would add.
Lois would nod and agree.
Mary Wagler had found a man she wanted to date. The problem was, Marcus was taking his time. She wanted him to drive her home in his buggy on an official date tonight. Desperately! She had dropped what hints she could. She had cooked supper for the men twice a week for a while now. Those were moments of great joy, and Mar
cus was charming or attentive at his house, but she was getting impatient. Perhaps she should not have told him that there was no rush.
This past Friday evening, she had held her breath at the kitchen sink while he wiped the dishes beside her, thinking the moment had arrived when Marcus would ask. He had come close. The words had been in his mouth, she was certain. But they never came out.
“I enjoyed the evening a lot,” he had told her at the door in parting. “Thank you so much for doing this each week. I can’t say how much it means to me.”
Marcus meant every word of thanks. She didn’t doubt him. Now, as other couples swooned all around her, she was keenly aware of her longing to make the relationship official. She began to push the swing with her feet. The squeak of the chains in the still night air was loud, but no one inside the house would hear her, occupied as they were with their conversations. Most of the dating couples had begun to leave in their buggies. If anyone came out on the porch, they would hardly notice her seated in the shadows. She could watch Marcus leave, driving away with Mose in his buggy. She could sit here the whole night in sorrow and sadness and never go home to sleep.
“Here you are.”
Mary jumped. She hadn’t heard the front door open.
“Marcus!”
“Yah,” he said. “I wondered where you had gone.”
“I’m just sitting here enjoying the evening.”
“It’s a nice evening,” he said.
“I should be going though.”
“You want me to hitch up your horse?” He tilted his head towards the barn.
Sit down beside me on the swing, she almost said. Men could be so obtuse.
“Shall I?” he asked, still waiting.
“Maybe later,” she said.
He looked around. “It’s not too chilly for December.”
“It’s been an odd season—warm one day, cold the next.”
“There is snow coming again, before Christmas I think.”
“Are you the weather forecaster?”
He laughed. “No, just a farmer, and using the Farmer’s Almanac, which could be wrong, of course. Snow for Christmas would be nice though. I have the outside farm work caught up.”
“Snow for Christmas is always nice.”
“It is,” he agreed, still standing. “Have you decided about going home for the holidays?”
“Not yet.” Mary moved her hand from the empty space on the swing, careful not to glance down. She was not going to drop another hint. He was going to have to take some initiative sooner or later.
Marcus shifted on his feet. He wasn’t sure what he should do. He didn’t want to break the precious few moments he was spending with Mary on Elmer Miller’s front porch, but more young people would be coming out of the house in a moment. Not that he was ashamed of anyone catching him talking to Mary. Most everyone in the community already considered them a couple. They just weren’t officially dating.
“You should stay here in the community for Christmas,” he said, bringing his thoughts back to the conversation.
“Why?”
She appeared more beautiful in the shadows of the lantern light than he had seen her in a long time. Of course, he was becoming more enamored with the woman each passing week. He no longer had moments when he would vow to never think of Mary as anything more than a friend.
“Can I sit beside you?” The thought took shape in his mouth.
“Maybe? If you answer my question.”
“Well . . . Mam could have us over for a big breakfast. Sort of celebrate her new beginning and all.”
“That would be nice.”
“There are also other options.” He motioned towards the front window. “I’m sure Lucille will have a big doings here for their family. Lucille will extend an invitation the moment she learns you are staying.”
“You may sit.” Mary’s hand patted the empty space beside her.
Marcus sat down and the chains squawked above him. He held his breath. He didn’t dare look at Mary. The front door opened and slammed shut. Several young men hurried down the steps and headed towards the barn without noticing them.
“The moon will be up soon,” Mary said once they were gone.
He followed her gaze. There was a soft glow on the horizon that bubbled up like a balloon. “I guess it will be,” he said. “I hadn’t noticed.”
The front door slammed again, and two girls emerged, giggling as they walked towards the buggies being hitched in front of the barn. They would be discovered soon, and he wanted this conversation to continue. Even more, he wanted to linger in Mary’s presence.
“Let me take you home tonight,” he said, his gaze still on the horizon.
“I have my buggy to drive.”
“I guess you do. What am I thinking?” His mind whirled.
“You could follow me home in your buggy,” she said.
“That would be a little strange.”
“Maybe so,” Mary said, feeling more frustrated than her voice revealed.
She continued pushing the swing with her feet.
“On second thought, who cares if it’s strange?” Marcus said, a new energy in his voice. “Let me follow you home, and perhaps stay for a bit.”
“Of course,” Mary said, too quickly, as if afraid he’d change his mind again. And then she appeared to hesitate. “But I didn’t make anything for us to eat.”
He glanced at her. “So what?”
“You need something to eat on a date.”
“I had supper,” he said.
“But there should be something special. On our first date. I could have baked brownies or cookies, if I’d known . . .” Her voice trailed off.
He stifled the urge to apologize. “You are special enough,” he said.
She wasn’t looking at him. “Do you really mean that?”
“I wouldn’t say it otherwise.”
“I know.”
“Then is it a yah? Taking you home, and coming into the house.”
She smiled, a ghost of a smile, as if she was surprised and shocked that this was happening.
“I’ll get your horse then.” He stood to his feet. She followed him down the porch steps. He reached for her hand, and she clutched his fingers. He left her at the hitching post, waiting. “I’ll be right back.”
So this was it? He had never imagined how he would date a girl like this. The idea that had taken root in his mind had been about something proper and well planned weeks in advance. Certainly not a date entered into on a whim, the decision made sitting on a front porch swing with the moon rising on the horizon. Yet, that was exactly the kind of life Mary had introduced him to: different, fascinating, a little impulsive, and excruciatingly sweet at the same time.
Mary studied the rising moon on the horizon while Marcus was in the barn. She wasn’t imagining this moment. Marcus was taking her home. Yah, in his own way. This was much more original than anything she had ever heard her sisters say about their first dates. Those sounded like formal affairs, with the request made weeks in advance, which always produced a flurry of baking in the Waglers’ house and a thorough cleaning far above the usual Saturday sweeping and dusting. She had experienced none of that, but what she was experiencing couldn’t be any less exciting or romantic than her sisters’ first dates. She had never heard them talk about a moon rising, timed perfectly to herald the arrival of fresh hopes and dreams. She was in love. Finally! She had fallen harder for Marcus than her sisters had for any of their boyfriends. She was sure about that.
“That’s what happens to those who resist,” Esther would mutter wisely.
So she wouldn’t share the details of this evening with her sisters. Not ever. They were too precious and dear to her heart. Marcus’s hesitancy, his slow finding of his way through the sorrows of his heart to break into the dawn of a new day. She would be his girlfriend. The best girlfriend Marcus could possibly have. Marcus had to see that now, clearly and plainly.
“Goot night,” Mary chir
ped to several passing boys, headed towards the barn.
“Goot night,” they replied, their gazes lingering on her, trying to figure out why she waited alone.
“Is someone getting your horse?” one of them paused to ask.
“Yep. Taken care of.”
They laughed and moved on. Marcus met them coming out of the barn door. She couldn’t hear what they said, but they were teasing him plenty. He was replying in kind, from the sound of their raucous voices. Marcus still had a smile on his face when he arrived, leading her horse with one hand and his with the other.
She took the bridle from him. “Yours first.”
He nodded, his dreamy smile lingering.
She didn’t ask what the teasing had been about. That was obvious. Her first date with Marcus being the center of the men’s attention sent delightful shivers up and down her back.
Mary tied her horse to the hitching rack and helped Marcus hitch up. He did the same when they finished, and her horse was soon fastened between the shafts. He held the bridle while she climbed in.
“Be right after you,” he said, letting go.
Mary held back on the reins, keeping her horse to a walk until Marcus’s buggy caught up. She let go then, and their pace picked up, the sound of the horses’ hooves pounding on the pavement like a drumbeat, with the moon now shedding its light on their path. Mary pinched herself. She simply couldn’t believe this was happening.
When they arrived at the Hochstetlers’ lane, Marcus slowed down to let Mary park first. Mary stopped short of the barn and hopped out to stand there waiting while he drove in and tied his horse to the hitching post. This felt more and more like an official date. His mouth was dry again as he walked towards where Mary had begun to unhitch her horse. He was dating the woman. The thought left him weak. He shook his head to clear it before he reached Mary. She already had her horse out of the shafts when he arrived.
