“I’d be happy to do that, young lady.” Sam flashed a smile at Rose as he followed Gracie down the aisle where the small toys and games were. “It’s important for kids to understand the value of money—”
“And to be thrifty!” Gracie exclaimed. “So can we find me a toy that’s fun, but it’s somethin’ I really need?”
As her daughter’s chatter kept Sam occupied, Rose slipped over to the bulletin board near the door. She felt rather devious as she attached one of her cards to the pitted cork with a pushpin, because Preacher Sam would feel the same way the bishop did about her looking for work.
But hadn’t Vernon admonished her to put Gracie first? “Keep Gracie’s welfare uppermost in your mind, Rose,” he’d told her.
How could she raise her little girl without money? Rose had prayed earnestly, and had given a lot of thought to the bishop’s five-month plan. God, however, had not shown her the big, irrefutable sign she’d asked Him for. And five months seemed like a very long time to depend upon the generosity of her neighbors—neighbors who earned their livings.
After all, Beulah Mae Nissley ran the café—Mrs. Nissley’s Kitchen—and Rosemary Lambright sold baked goods there, which she made in her double oven at home. Sam’s sister, Abby, had moved her sewing business into a bedroom of the Graber house across the road after she’d married James Graber. Barbara Lambright earned money for her midwifing visits, while Sam’s mother, Treva, ran the greenhouse. Other women around Cedar Creek didn’t expect their men to be the sole support of their households. Rose had no doubt that if the married ones were widowed, they would continue in their businesses.
Rose glanced toward the toy section. Sam and Gracie were holding a serious conversation about the merits of flash cards versus paddleballs and books, so Rose focused on the notices posted on the bulletin board. Several ladies were willing to do sewing or laundry, or they offered to be caretakers for elderly folks.
The HELP WANTED section of the board wasn’t nearly as full—and jobs in pallet-making shops and vinyl siding factories were suitable only for men. Rose was disappointed, but this was just her first stop. On her card, she’d written that she would cook and clean, but she was perfectly capable of doing other household chores, too, depending upon what a potential employer needed.
“Mamma, look what I got!” Gracie cried as her shoes beat a rapid tattoo on the wooden floor. “Sam ’splained about the dollar sign and the dot—”
“The decimal point,” Sam said gently as he followed her up the aisle.
“Jah, the decimal point!” Gracie stopped in front of Rose, clutching a small book. “And if the number in front of the decimal point is less than two, it means I got enough money, right?”
“We’ll have a lesson about adding tax later,” Sam said as he winked at Rose. “She made a fine choice. Could’ve had a set of jacks, or flash cards, or animal stickers—”
“I got a book about Jesus!” Gracie chimed in. “We need Jesus, so I’m a thrifty shopper, huh, Mamma?”
Rose’s heart rose into her throat. “You and Sam are a fine team—teacher and scholar. Let’s go to the counter so you can pay for your book.”
Rose lifted Gracie so she could transact her business at the tall counter. As Sam punched the numbers into the cash register, she almost felt guilty for using her little girl as a diversion—but she believed her motives were honorable.
“Tax—and a stick of candy—are on me today,” the storekeeper insisted when Rose fished more money out of her apron pocket. “It’s always a pleasure to see you in my store, Gracie. Next time I see you, you can tell me all about your new book.”
“Jah, I will. Bye, Sam!”
“Denki again, Sam,” Rose added as they headed for the door. She recalled running into Matthias in this spot, but she put him out of her mind. She had places to go, notices to post—and she’d heard nothing from him since Mamma’s funeral. Maybe he’d just come to eat a free meal.
“Where we goin’ now, Mamma?”
Gracie’s eager question brought Rose out of her musings as she lifted her daughter into the open rig. “Willow Ridge is our next stop,” she replied as she unhitched Daisy and stepped up into the buggy. “It’s a long ride, so it’s a gut thing you bought a book, jah?”
Gracie nodded, opening the cover. “See? Here’s Jesus—and He looks just like Matthias, don’tcha think?”
As Rose focused on getting the rig safely onto the county highway, she wondered where her daughter got such notions—and why Gracie had grown so attached to Matthias so quickly. When Daisy was trotting along the shoulder of the blacktop, she stole a glance at Gracie’s book.
“Oh, my,” Rose whispered. The illustrations showed Jesus as the Good Shepherd, surrounded by fluffy white sheep. He was smiling tenderly; His golden brown eyes were alight, gazing directly at her . . . and indeed, with His reddish-brown beard and center-parted hair, Jesus could have been Matthias’s twin—except His hair was longer. “Those look like Katie’s dat’s sheep.”
“Jesus needs a couple of sheepdogs like Panda and Pearl, for when the sheep go astray,” Gracie remarked. “It was fun playin’ with those dogs, Mamma. I wish we had a dog.”
Rose was struck by the “going astray” part. What would she tell her daughter when they went into the next store? The way Bishop Vernon probably saw it, Rose needed more than border collies to herd her back onto the straight and narrow.
“And look at this page, Mamma. Why does Jesus have bright yellow lines around His head and body?”
Rose glanced at the book. “It says, ‘Jesus is the light of the world,’” she replied. “Those are rays of really bright sunshine—like a giant halo surrounding Him. And that’s the world He’s holding in His arm.”
“Wow,” Gracie said softly. “Jesus must be really, really big! Way bigger than Matthias.”
Rose laughed for the first time in days, grateful for this sunny day and for Gracie, who was the light of her life. Her daughter wore her favorite yellow dress today, a pleasant lift from the dark clothing Rose had been wearing since Nathan and Dat had passed—and Mamma’s death would extend her mourning for another year. Only Rose’s kapp was white, in the tradition of Cedar Creek’s Amish community. All her clothing from her neck down had been dyed black after her husband and father had died in the fire.
As they rolled down the road, Rose set aside her concerns to enjoy her daughter’s curiosity. They read the entire picture book and talked about Jesus, so the next half hour flew by. There wasn’t much traffic, and Rose was grateful for that.
As they approached Willow Ridge, Rose decided to explain what was going to happen when they reached Zook’s Market and a couple of other stores. Gracie was far too observant to let Rose post her notices without asking questions that were best not answered with other people nearby.
“Gracie, when we stop at the stores in Willow Ridge and New Haven and Morning Star, we’re not staying long—and we’re not buying anything,” Rose added gently.
Gracie’s face puckered with thought. “If we’re not buyin’ stuff, why’re we goin’ to so many stores, Mamma?”
Rose owed her daughter an honest answer, after all their talk about how Jesus and God knew their thoughts and needs. “I’m posting cards on the bulletin boards, sweet pea,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound desperate. “With your dat and Dawdi gone, we don’t earn money from the sawmill anymore. And while we were taking care of Mammi, we spent a lot of our money on her medicine and chemo. So Mamma’s looking for work that will pay her something.”
Gracie considered this, her expression fluctuating as these concepts about jobs and money sank in. “Why can’t you just be with me, Mamma?” she asked softly. “We got a garden, and we got Mammi’s house for our home, jah?”
“Jah, we do,” Rose answered in the strongest voice she could muster. She hated herself for making Gracie worry. “I hope to find work I can do at home, or at a place where you can come with me.”
“But not when I’m gonna
be in school!” Gracie protested.
“That’s right,” Rose assured her. “But school doesn’t start for a long time—”
“And we gotta have money to get stuff from the store sometimes—like peanut butter and macaroni, coz they don’t grow in the garden,” Gracie remarked pensively. “And we gotta be thrifty, huh, Mamma?”
Rose slung her arm around Gracie and hugged her tight. “I’m so blessed to have you, Gracie—and so glad you understand,” she said in a wavering voice. “We’ll be just fine, you and me together. Do you believe that?”
Gracie nodded solemnly. “I got you, and you got me, Mamma. And we got Jesus. It’s all gut.”
As Rose blinked back tears, she saw that Willow Ridge was only a quarter mile farther down the road. “Tell you what,” she said in a lighter voice. “We’ll post my notice in Zook’s Market—see the store with the blue metal roof?”
Gracie sat taller, nodding.
“And then we’ll get a fresh sweet roll or something at the café a little farther down the road,” Rose said. “It’s been a long time since we ate our breakfast.”
“Jah, my tummy’s rumblin’. Maybe a roll with cherry filling?”
“We’ll see what they have. You’re a gut girl, Gracie, and I love you,” Rose said as she steered the mare over a narrow bridge. “Look at this mill with its waterwheel. That’s a new place since last time I was here.”
Gracie turned in the seat as they passed the mill, watching the big wheel spin slowly as it dipped water from the river. She slipped her hand around Rose’s elbow. “I love you, too, Mamma. This is a fun trip, huh? We’ve havin’ an adventure!”
“That’s a gut way to look at it,” Rose agreed.
Chapter 11
When they’d parked beside Zook’s Market, Rose reached for Gracie’s hand. It only took a few minutes to post her notice and read the HELP WANTED notes—none of which offered work Rose could do. “Shall we walk down to the café—stretch our legs after riding for so long?” she asked as they stepped outside.
“Jah. Is that it, in that building there?”
“Uh-huh,” Rose replied. “And there’s a quilt shop on the other side.”
The tantalizing aroma of roasting meat drifted on the breeze. Rose was tempted to suggest stopping for lunch—but there weren’t any vehicles parked there. “Hmm. This café looks a lot newer—and bigger—than the one I remember,” she said as they walked closer. “Ah, see, the sign says, ‘The Grill N Skillet,’ and it’s open for lunch and supper now. The other café was open early for folks to eat breakfast.”
Rose peered into the café’s big plate-glass window. The clock on the wall inside said it was only five minutes past ten. The tables and chairs were unoccupied. “Well, we could go back to Zook’s and get a package of rolls or cookies—”
“Let’s wait, Mamma,” Gracie suggested. “Store-bought rolls aren’t as gut as fresh-made ones. We’re bein’ thrifty, jah? Only buyin’ what we really need.”
In a surge of emotion, Rose lifted Gracie to her shoulder in a fierce hug. She was more blessed than she’d ever imagined, having such a bright little girl. “You’re absolutely right, sweet pea. Last time I bought a package of rolls in the store, it was a complete waste of my money. Let’s go on to New Haven. It’s only a few miles from here.”
Once they were in the rig, Gracie opened her book again, smiling as she traced her finger around the pictures of Jesus. As they came to the edge of town, it occurred to Rose that she had been born here in New Haven . . . the old low-slung grocery store on the corner of the county highway was probably where Roseanne’s aunt Nettie had first met Lydia Fry—although there was no longer a bench nearby.
Had Aunt Nettie lived in one of these homes in town, rather than out in the country, like most Plain folks did? The letter had made it sound as though Lydia hadn’t had far to walk to Nettie’s house, where she’d first seen Roseanne and her newborn baby.
Rose steered the horse carefully through the car traffic and off onto a side road. It was natural to wonder about Roseanne and Nettie and the day Lydia Fry had decided to adopt her, but Rose had much more pressing, present-day situations to deal with. She carefully composed her face so Gracie wouldn’t ask what she’d been thinking about.
“Almost there,” Rose remarked, pointing down the road.
The stop in New Haven didn’t take long. The Dutch Bulk Store was busy, and as Rose posted her index card on the corkboard, she didn’t see any HELP WANTED notices at all. Was this trip a waste of her time? Maybe English folks didn’t look at the job postings in Plain stores these days. Maybe they found their employees on their computers.
“Want to see what’s in the bakery case, Gracie?” she asked. “It’ll take us about half an hour to get to Morning Star.”
“But there’s a pizza place there, jah? Can we have pizza for lunch, Mamma?”
Rose laughed as she took her daughter’s hand and headed outside. “You never forget a gut place to eat, do you?” she teased. “Maybe we could get a big pizza and take home what’s left, to have for our supper tonight.”
“Pizza two times in one day! Let’s do it!”
Rose set out again, and as the mare pulled them around the curving road, they met up with a big enclosed horse-drawn wagon. The driver waved—as most country folks did—before Rose noticed the yellow lettering on the side of the royal-blue vehicle: WAGLER REMODELING: PAINTING, PAPERING & REPAIRS.
She blinked. That Wagler surely had to be related to Matthias. Hadn’t Sam told her Matthias had a harness shop here in Willow Ridge?
“That was a big ole wagon, Mamma!”
Rose smiled, but she didn’t mention the possible connection it might have to Matthias. “The sign said it was a painting and wallpapering business—and up ahead there, see that big auction barn? That’s where folks buy and sell cattle and horses and pigs.”
As they approached Morning Star, they discussed the various places they saw—the white Mennonite church, the funeral home, and the Morning Star Senior Center were on this side of town as they drove in. Because it was the county seat, Morning Star had a lot of English businesses along the main streets. Rose passed a car dealership, a Laundromat, and the post office before they finally reached the Plain bulk store, which sat just down the block from the pizza place.
“Here we are!” Gracie sniffed deeply. “I can smell the pizza bakin’, Mamma!”
Rose hitched Daisy to a post at the side of the white metal bulk store building. “I think I can eat a whole pizza all by myself,” she teased. “What if there’s none left for you?”
“Puh! I got fast hands, Mamma,” Gracie replied without missing a beat. “I can snatch that pizza off the pan way faster than you can! Just you watch me!”
Rose laughed out loud, once again thankful for a little girl who gave such pleasure to her—such love and understanding beyond Gracie’s years. Bulk stores fascinated Gracie. She loved to walk down the rows of shelves, gazing at the hundreds of plastic bags filled with spices, cookie sprinkles, muffin mixes, candies, cereals—and there were more varieties of bulk grocery items here than Sam carried in the Cedar Creek Mercantile. Rose posted her index card on the bulletin board; then she watched her daughter walk along the aisle where all sorts of pasta shapes and homemade dried noodles were bagged.
Maybe Gracie had a point about going to stores without buying anything . . . and it’s not like a simple treat will set us back much in this place.
Rose joined her daughter at the end of the aisle. “Pick out a package of macaroni or noodles,” she suggested. “We can do a lot of things with that—like mac and cheese, or—”
“Tuna casserole with peas?”
“Jah, we’ve not had that in a long time,” Rose said. “And it’ll be fun to eat if the macaroni is an unusual shape, don’t you think?”
Gracie jogged along the aisle until a package caught her eye. “Look, Mamma—these are orange and green and red and noodle color, all mixed together. And they’re butterf
lies!”
“Perfect. We’ll pay for them and head to the pizza place,” Rose said as she took money from her apron pocket. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”
Gracie planted her fists on her little hips. “But not Daisy, right? Coz it’s a looong walk home, Mamma!”
Rose paid for the pasta and they headed outside, hand in hand. As they strolled down the block, Gracie chattered about making a special picture with her colored chalk and the colorful pasta butterflies—until she sucked in her breath.
“Matthias, hi!” she called out, releasing Rose’s hand. “We’re gonna eat pizza now! Come with us!”
Rose held her breath as her daughter scampered toward Matthias, who’d just stepped out of the bank. He opened his arms, laughing as he effortlessly lifted the ecstatic little girl to his shoulder. What a sight, their two smiling faces—as though they’d been friends forever and hadn’t seen each other for months. Rose’s heart pounded as she watched Matthias delight her daughter—just as Nathan had done.
“Pizza?” he teased. “Why would I want to eat pizza with the likes of you, Gracie?”
Gracie giggled. “Coz you love me!”
Matthias planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Gut answer, Gracie-girl.”
Rose’s hand fluttered to her chest. It was just like Gracie to blurt out the first thing that came to mind, but Rose hadn’t expected the subject of love to come up. Matthias had reacted without a second thought, with a kiss....
“Mamma says we can get a really big pizza and take some home for supper!” Gracie continued excitedly. “I’ll be eatin’ pizza two times in one day!”
“Sounds like a fine plan.” Matthias smiled as Rose caught up to them. “If we order two really big pizzas—two different kinds—then I can have pizza for supper, too. How are you, Rose?” he asked in a lower voice. “What a nice surprise to see you girls in Morning Star.”
“It’s gut to see you as well, Matthias,” Rose replied, hoping Gracie didn’t blurt out the reason they were in town. “I—I don’t know if it’s proper for us to be eating with you, what with me being a—”
A Mother's Love Page 8
