A Mother's Love

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “Set me down!” Gracie urged him. “I’m starvin’, coz everybody else got to eat before we came.”

  Smiling, Matthias went to the side of the table where he’d placed two plates and lowered the little girl onto the bench in front of one of them. “I thought you could sit beside your mamm, so I could see both of you better while we eat,” he said when Gracie patted the bench beside her. Truth be told, he was aware that Gracie was enamored of him—and he was crazy about her, too—but she needed to know that his bigger interest was in her mother. Matthias sensed that if he let her, Gracie would get in the habit of requiring all his attention.

  After a brief silent prayer, Rose removed the foil from the glass pan of lasagna. As aromas of beef and tomato sauce and cheese wafted around him, Matthias closed his eyes in ecstasy. “I hope you girls don’t want any of this lasagna,” he teased as Rose dished up the largest piece with a metal spatula. “I think I can eat it all!”

  “Nuh-uh!” Gracie protested as Rose placed the steaming food on his plate. “Me next, Mamma, coz I can eat all the rest of it before Matthias does!”

  Rose looked sternly at her daughter, her spatula poised above the pan. “Somebody’s sounding awfully bossy. How do you ask me nicely for your share of dinner?”

  Gracie slumped on the bench until all Matthias could see was the top of her small white kapp. “Please and thank you,” she murmured contritely.

  “Much better.” Rose cut one of the pieces of lasagna in half with the edge of the spatula and placed it on Gracie’s plate. “Now you may sit up straight and eat your supper, sweet pea. I know you’re excited, but it’s important to behave yourself. We don’t want Matthias thinking you’re a fussy, spoiled little baby.”

  As Gracie reached for her fork, she stole a glance across the table. Matthias winked at her and put salad on his plate. “How much would you like, Gracie?” he asked as he picked up more salad with the tongs.

  “That’s gut,” the little girl murmured. “Denki, Matthias.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  After Matthias had passed the salad bowl to Rose and they’d shared the bottle of ranch dressing he’d brought, the three of them prayed and then began to eat. He enjoyed watching Rose cut Gracie’s lasagna into bite-sized chunks, his gaze lingering on her sturdy, capable hands . . . on her patient, loving expression as she nodded her encouragement when her little girl looked up at her.

  Gracie looks up to you, too—but being a dat raising somebody else’s child is different from being an uncle to Adam’s kids. Are you ready for that ongoing, everyday responsibility?

  Matthias had no idea where this question had come from, yet he needed to answer it if he intended to marry Rose someday. He’d often had thoughts of how she would redecorate his house—redecorate his whole life—with her sweet disposition and purposeful, caring ways. But this marriage would be different from the one he’d shared with Sadie. Rose had already established her way of parenting Gracie. If he unwittingly said or did things that undermined her control—mostly because Gracie was so cute and affectionate—their family dynamics would be off-kilter from the beginning. He sighed, wondering how best to handle this situation.

  “You’re very quiet, Matthias. Has it been a long, hard week keeping up your harness making while you’ve learned about Saul’s carriage business?”

  Rose’s voice pulled him out of his serious thoughts. He reveled in her pretty smile and the light in her green eyes—and then realized he was supposed to answer her question. “Saul? Jah, he runs quite a shop,” Matthias remarked as he cut another bite of lasagna. “He has twenty-five fellows on his payroll full-time, building everything from Plain rigs and courting buggies to heavy farming wagons. Saul himself makes some really fancy fairy-princess buggies for places that offer special carriage rides.”

  “Fairy princesses!” Gracie said in a fascinated whisper. “I could draw fairy princesses on my chalkboard, Mamma.”

  “Jah, you could, Gracie.” Rose focused on Matthias with a smile that did funny things to his insides. “I can see why he wants a full partner to help him keep such a business going. It seems like quite an honor that he asked you, Matthias—but jah, a huge responsibility, too.”

  “It’s all of that and more,” he agreed, temporarily getting lost in her gaze. Her eyes brought to mind the windbreak of peaceful evergreens out behind his house. “And I can’t forget that Martha Maude is Saul’s bookkeeper, so she’ll be aware of every project and purchase I make through the carriage shop.”

  “Martha Maude’s really nice,” Gracie murmured. “She’d be a really gut mammi. But I guess that other lady—Anne—is already my mammi.”

  Matthias couldn’t miss the flicker of emotion on Rose’s face. He suspected Gracie missed her grandmother Lydia as much as Rose did—and if they weren’t careful, Gracie’s way of blurting out her thoughts could get them into hot water.

  “We’ve talked about that, Gracie,” Rose gently reminded her daughter. “And what did Matthias and I tell you?”

  Gracie glanced at Matthias and then focused obediently on her mother. “You said to be quiet—not to say nothin’ to Anne or Martha Maude.”

  “That’s right. It’s gut for you to remember that now, and every time those ladies come to the senior center.” Rose reinforced her words with a purposeful smile.

  Even as Matthias observed this dialogue, he sensed tension in Rose’s voice and face, as though something important might have happened this week. He was glad their meal progressed quickly and that Rose suggested they take a play break before they ate their pie. Gracie squealed with delight and ran toward the swings. “Somebody push me!” she called out.

  Rose gazed deliberately at Matthias as the two of them rose from the table. “Anne knows who I am,” she whispered. “When Martha Maude took Gracie outside to the flower garden, Anne asked if she had met me somewhere and—and I knew if I said no, I could never again approach her as my mother.”

  Matthias exhaled loudly. “Oh, my. What did she say?”

  Rose blinked as though she might start crying. “It was a quick conversation, because Gracie and Martha Maude might come back at any time. But she wants to talk to me sometime when no one else is around—and she agreed that Saul shouldn’t find out about this.”

  Matthias slipped his arm around Rose’s shoulders as they walked toward the swings. “Well, this cranks things up a notch, but I don’t see how you could’ve said anything different. I can’t imagine what you must’ve been feeling when she realized who you were, Rose.”

  “It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced,” she said, shaking her head. “We were both overjoyed and—and she said she’d loved me every day of her life after she gave me to . . . my parents.”

  Matthias’s throat tightened with emotion. At this time in her life, Rose needed all the love she could find, but it was obvious that she and Anne were very vulnerable. Now that they’d found each other, how were they going to keep quiet about it?

  He thought about this as he pushed Gracie in the swing. Then he and Rose made a game of telling Gracie what to touch, and watched her race toward each tree and teeter-totter and picnic table they mentioned. When pink-and-peach ribbons of sunset lit up the horizon, Matthias realized the evening was getting away from him too fast. Even though he’d enjoyed watching Gracie play, he’d hoped for more time alone with Rose. “I’ll bring Daisy over to the center’s parking lot tomorrow at noon, so she’ll be there whenever you’re ready to go home,” he said.

  “Let me know what I owe you for her feed. I bet that bag won’t last her much longer.” Rose waved at Gracie, who was jogging around the tall slide in the center of the park. “Time for pie!”

  When the three of them had settled at the picnic table again, Matthias took a bite of lemon pie. “Wow, this is gut,” he murmured ecstatically. “I like this better than the kind with meringue all over it.”

  “This is lemon icebox pie,” Rose said, seeming pleased about his reaction. “It’s easier
because you make the filling and pour it into the already-baked crust. You let the fridge do the work instead of the oven,” she explained.

  “It makes my mouth all puckery,” Gracie put in. “But I’m happy coz we’ve got enough left in the kitchen that me and Mamma can have some tomorrow. No way we could split two pieces amongst all those other folks.”

  Matthias chuckled at her logic. “And I’m happy that you brought me a piece tonight—and that you had the idea for a picnic,” he added. “I’ll have to wait until next week to see you again.”

  When they’d finished their pie, Matthias loaded the dirty dishes into his box while Rose slipped her empty glass pans into her tote. With a mysterious smile, she handed him the rectangular, foil-wrapped packet, which had been sitting near the end of the table.

  “For your breakfast,” she murmured. “Denki for a wonderful evening—and for keeping our Daisy,” she added.

  Matthias longed to kiss Rose good night, but he wanted their first kiss to be a private, joyful moment they could look back on in years to come—and he felt certain that he wanted to share those years with Rose. He watched Rose and Gracie cross the park in the dusk, hand in hand, awash in affection that thrummed in every fiber of his being. When they’d entered the senior center, he hitched Daisy to the rig and made the short drive home, his thoughts filled with the delightful time they’d had tonight.

  When he entered his kitchen, he could wait no longer. Matthias opened the foil packet and inhaled gratefully. Two large cinnamon rolls filled his senses with the aroma of fresh cinnamon, sugar, and yeasty dough—and before he thought about it, he was uncurling the outer layer of one of the rolls. He jammed a large chunk of the soft pastry into his mouth, moaning over the sweet glaze and the chewy raisins and the abundance of cinnamon.

  “Oh, Rose,” he murmured as he polished off the entire roll. “We could make a sweet life together, you and me and Gracie.”

  Matthias hoped Rose would agree that he could court her soon. Now that he’d met her, his life seemed vibrant and worthwhile again—an adventure he looked forward to sharing with her. He had a house, and he had his business and a lucrative arrangement with Hartzler that would see him into the future. All that was missing was Rose standing beside him as his wife. Nobody else would do.

  Chapter 24

  After breakfast on Friday morning, when Rose was preparing chicken and noodles for the evening meal, Sherrie came into the kitchen. She immediately went to look over Gracie’s shoulder as the little girl practiced printing the alphabet on her lined tablet.

  “Gracie, your letters look really strong and neat,” she remarked. “Your teacher’s going to be lucky, having you in school this fall!”

  “I been workin’ hard at it,” Gracie said, beaming up at the director.

  Rose smiled. “She loves the school desk you brought her, Sherrie. That was a fine idea.”

  Sherrie nodded, gazing intently at the big bowl of noodles, chicken chunks, and chopped carrots on the center worktable as Rose added the sauce to it. “Oh, everyone’s going to love this tonight, Rose. We’re so glad you’ve come to cook for us.”

  “And I’m happy to get your weekend meals ready in exchange for our apartment,” Rose remarked. “It’s been so much better for Gracie and me, not having to drive back and forth. I’ll have pans of beef stew and scalloped potatoes with ham in the refrigerator for you before I leave today—and your breakfast coffee cakes are cooling over on the counter.”

  “Wonderful! I came back to tell you that Anne and Martha Maude have stopped by,” Sherrie continued. “I didn’t know if you’d rather meet them in the lobby, or if I should send them back here.”

  Gracie sucked in an excited breath. “Mamma, can I go see ’em?”

  Rose chuckled. “Jah, go say hello and then bring them back here,” she replied. Her heart began to beat faster—because she was eager to see her mother, and because she hoped Gracie, in her excitement, wouldn’t blurt something about the two women being related to her.

  When Gracie hurried from the kitchen, Rose glanced at Sherrie. “I—I hope you won’t mind that they’ve come to see us,” she murmured. “I don’t want you thinking I’m slacking at my work—”

  “Rose, you’re the woman least likely to become a slacker,” Sherrie teased, hugging Rose’s shoulders. “I know you’ll get everything made, just as you’ve said you would. It’s good you’ve got company once in a while so you aren’t in the kitchen all the time. You really do get time off, you know.”

  When Rose heard Gracie’s voice in the dining room, she glanced out to see her little girl walking between Anne and Martha Maude, her hands in theirs as she chattered happily. “I appreciate that, Sherrie—and as you can see, Gracie loves to have company.”

  “She does well at keeping herself busy while you work, Rose,” the director said. “As quickly as Gracie became acquainted with our residents, I’m not a bit surprised that she’s taken to the Hartzler women. Have a nice visit. I’ll see you later.”

  Rose quickly finished stirring the sauce into the big bowl of chicken and noodles. Why would Anne and Martha Maude be coming again this week? Surely, they couldn’t have crocheted and quilted more pieces for the residents so quickly—but as they entered the kitchen with her daughter, she kept her questions to herself. Anne’s smile held special warmth for Rose, and Martha Maude was obviously delighted to be with Gracie.

  “What a nice surprise to see you two again,” Rose said. “Welcome to our kitchen.”

  “That’s a gut-looking batch of chicken and noodles you’re whipping up,” Martha Maude remarked. She gazed around at the big stainless-steel freezers and the commercial-sized stove and oven. “Oh, and look at those nice coffee cakes. You’ve been busy today, Rose.”

  “Jah, Gracie and I will be heading home later today, so I’ve made most of the food Sherrie will serve over the weekend,” Rose explained.

  Martha Maude and Anne smiled at each other as though they shared a secret. Then Martha Maude released Gracie’s hand and came around the table to stand close to Rose. “I’m going to the fabric store,” she whispered, “and if it’s all right with you, I’ll ask Gracie to go with me.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “Oh, that would be fine,” she replied. “I can already tell you what her answer will be.”

  Gracie was gazing intently at Rose and Martha Maude, wondering about their secretive exchange. “Mamma, you always tell me it’s not nice to whisper in front of people—”

  “And you’re exactly right, Gracie,” Martha Maude put in with a big smile. “But in this case, I was asking your mamm if you could go with me to the fabric store up the road. I need some pieces to use in my next quilts, and you can help me pick them out.”

  Gracie squealed ecstatically. “Can I, Mamma? Pretty please?” she pleaded as she hopped up and down.

  “Have fun shopping,” Rose replied as she wiped her hands. “But I’d better hear that you were a gut girl, Gracie. Let me go get you some money—”

  “No need,” Martha Maude insisted as she took Gracie’s hand. “If we’re not back by noon, we’re out having our lunch.”

  “Bye, Mamma!” Gracie said excitedly. “See ya later!”

  “Jah, I’ll be here.” Rose watched the two of them walk into the dining room, wondering if Anne could hear how loudly her heart was pounding. When she looked at her mother, she didn’t know which question to ask first. “Does she know?” Rose whispered. “Is Martha Maude doing this so you and I can—”

  Anne shook her head no as she came to stand directly across from Rose at the worktable. “This was all Martha Maude’s idea,” she replied. “Gracie is such a special little girl and, well . . . for whatever reason, I’ve not been able to have any more children,” she added softly. “I think Martha Maude is enjoying Gracie like the granddaughter she’s never had.”

  Rose swallowed hard. She stood face-to-face with her mother, who was the same height as she was, and had the same body build and facial shape and the sam
e sturdy hands . . . and she wore the same expression of hope and joy mingled with a touch of nervousness.

  “Rose,” her mother whispered, reaching across the table for her hand, “I didn’t intend to interrupt your work, but when Martha Maude was so set on shopping with Gracie, well—I saw this as our chance to catch up with each other. I told her I’d visit with you and Sherrie while they were gone.”

  “I’m so glad you did,” Rose murmured as she squeezed Anne’s hand between both of hers. “Let me put the chicken and noodles in their pans, and we can go to the apartment. Nobody’ll interrupt us there.”

  Anne nodded eagerly.

  Rose worked quickly, feeling her mother’s gaze following her movements. When she’d put the casserole pans in the refrigerator, she ran water into the big mixing bowl and dried her hands. “Shall we go?”

  Anne walked alongside her, through the dining room and out into the lobby. After they turned down the hallway toward Rose’s apartment, Anne stopped to gaze at a large painting of a horse-drawn wagon loaded with hay, driven by an Amish man while his two boys and their dog jogged alongside it. “Joel—your father—painted this,” she murmured, running her fingertip along the name painted in the lower right corner. “Several of his pictures are here and in other places around town. Such a talent he had—more passion for his art than our bishops would allow.”

  “Do you ever see him?” Rose gazed at the painting in awe. The scene was rendered so realistically, she could almost hear the creak of the harnesses and wagon wheels and feel the summer sun on the back of her neck.

  “No, he moves around the Midwest, pulling a small trailer behind his truck, as I understand it,” Anne replied wistfully. “Lives on the road, painting and selling his art at flea markets and galleries—or at least that’s what I read in the paper once. The article’s photograph looked just like him back when he and I—well, except he’s a bit stockier and his face has aged,” she said with a soft laugh. Then she sighed. “Joel stole my heart and I never really got it back. But I thank the Lord that Saul has made such a wonderful home for me, Rose.”