Plain Proposal

by Beth Wiseman

  “Hello, Saul. Wie bischt?” Bishop Ebersol extended his hand to Saul, then he turned to Miriam and nodded. “Hello, Miriam.” He stroked his long gray beard that ran the length of his chest. “I need to see your father, Saul. Is he inside?”

  Saul was sure Bishop Ebersol could see his heart beating beneath his dark-blue shirt. He took a deep breath. “Ya. He is inside with mei bruders.” Saul gestured toward the house, then turned to Miriam.

  “I should go. Mamm will be waiting for me to help with supper.” Miriam backed up a step and offered a weak smile. “Bye, Saul. Good-bye, Bishop Ebersol.”

  “See you Saturday at the barn raising, Miriam.” Saul gave her a quick wave of his hand, and Bishop Ebersol again nodded at her. They waited a few moments until Miriam was heading down the driveway, then the bishop said, “I know it is near the supper hour, but it’s important that I speak with your father. I’ve not been well the past few days, or I would have come sooner.”

  Saul knew there was no way to avoid the crisis at hand, but he didn’t want James and Ruben around when his father was humiliated. “I’ll go let Daed know you’re here, and I’ll ask James and Ruben to help me in the barn so that you can talk.”

  “That will be gut.”

  Saul’s steps were heavy as he walked into the house. Daed was reading but still in his work clothes, and James and Ruben were nowhere in sight.

  “Where’s James and Ruben?” Saul asked when he entered the den.

  His father eased his reading glasses off and smiled. “We all worked hard today, so I told them to go ahead and bathe. I’ll milk the cows later after supper. They deserve a break.” His father chuckled. “I’d give you a break too, mei sohn, and cook us some supper, but I’m not much gut in the kitchen.”

  You’re a gut man. And now the bishop is here to humiliate you.

  “Bishop Ebersol is here to talk to you. Privately, I think.”

  Daed’s eyes clouded as his expression soured. “I wonder why.” Then he stood up. “The bishop is always welcome, of course.”

  “I’ll go see if James and Ruben want to play basketball before I start supper, so you and the bishop can talk.”

  His father nodded. Saul darted up the stairs and summoned James and Ruben, who were always happy when Saul challenged them to play a game.

  But a few minutes later, as Saul aimed the ball for his first shot, he watched his father opening the door for Bishop Ebersol. He threw, but the ball didn’t go anywhere near the basket. This is it.

  He saw Ruben toss the ball out of the corner of his eye, but he felt like his breath was being sucked out of him as he bent over and leaned his hands on his knees, wondering how this night would change all their lives.

  A car coming up the driveway pulled his attention from the game. He waited and was surprised to see Noah Stoltzfus step out. Noah was Rebecca’s brother who ran a clinic for both Englisch and Amish in the area. He’d been shunned years ago for leaving the Order to become a doctor, but his contributions to the community had earned him respect, and over time hardly anyone recognized the shunning. This was bad timing, though, and he couldn’t imagine what Noah was doing here. He couldn’t recall Noah visiting before.

  “Hi, boys.” Noah waved as he crossed the yard, hurrying across the grass and up the porch steps.

  “Wait!” Saul called out to Noah as he ran toward him, dropping the basketball. “Daed’s got company. Bishop Ebersol is here.”

  Noah spun around. “I know. I’m here to meet with them.” He offered a brief smile, then quickly turned, pounded up the stairs, and was inside the house before Saul could say a word.

  “Why’s Noah here?” James asked as he ran to Saul’s side.

  Ruben joined them within seconds. “And why is the bishop here?”

  They are all here to destroy our lives.

  Friday morning Miriam, Shelby, and Mamm were busy preparing food to be served at the barn raising the next day. Miriam had been thinking about what had happened at Saul’s. She didn’t understand what Saul wanted to tell her or why Bishop Ebersol was at his house, but she suspected her mother knew something. She’d tried to catch her mother alone several times, but Mamm had been busy preparing for the barn raising. She’d also been teaching Shelby more Pennsylvania Deitsch. Her cousin seemed to enjoy learning new words and phrases, although Miriam wasn’t sure why. Miriam had noticed the two of them growing even closer, and they hardly noticed Miriam was in the room that morning, which was fine by Miriam. She was glad to see her cousin happy.

  Shelby’s parents were due to arrive in a week, and Miriam was going to miss Shelby terribly, especially their late-night chats. It really was like having a sister.

  Even with all of the windows and doors open in the house, the kitchen was still sweltering as they worked. Miriam could feel the sweat dripping down her back beneath her dress. Mamm wanted to get the cooking done early before it got too hot, but in August, it was hot all the time. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as she leaned down to pull a lemon sponge pie from the oven.

  “Someone’s here.” Shelby walked to the opened door in the kitchen and peered through the screen. “In a car.”

  Mamm joined Shelby by the door. “I don’t recognize that car.”

  Miriam put the pie on a cooling rack, then went to peer over Shelby’s and Mamm’s shoulders. “Uh-oh.”

  Shelby twisted her neck to face Miriam. “What?”

  They watched the blond-haired woman balancing on heeled sandals as she made her way across the yard.

  “What is Lucy Turner doing here?” Mamm asked in a whisper.

  Lucy clicked up the stairs and stopped on the other side of the screen. “Hello, Rebecca. Can I talk to you for a moment?” She clasped her hands and held them against her sleeveless red blouse. “It’s important.”

  “Of course.” Mamm pushed the screen door open, and Miriam and Shelby backed up so Lucy could come into the kitchen. “Let’s go into the den.” Mamm motioned with her hand for Lucy to follow her. Miriam knew Mamm preferred folks to enter through the den, but with two doors on the porch, it was hard to direct people to the actual front door. Plus, Miriam was sure Lucy saw them staring at her through the screen door in the kitchen.

  “I can see that you’re in the middle of supper preparation, so I won’t take up much of your time.”

  Miriam and Shelby didn’t move. Miriam held her breath as she strained to hear what Lucy had to say.

  Shelby leaned close. “I think the shoofly pie is probably ready,” she whispered in Miriam’s ear.

  Miriam put her first finger to her mouth and kept it there until Shelby shrugged. She leaned her ear toward the entryway from the kitchen to the den, straining to hear Lucy.

  “I need to know how I can reach Katie Ann. I know this must seem awkward, but it’s important that I speak with her. So I was hoping that you could give me her address and phone number in Colorado.”

  Miriam blinked as she turned to Shelby and whispered, “Why would she want Katie Ann’s address and phone number?”

  “How should I know?”

  Miriam put her finger back to her lip and leaned in again. It was her mother’s voice she heard next.

  “Lucy, I’m not sure what to do about this matter, but our Katie Ann is still grieving, I’m sure. It might be best not to call her right now.”

  “I understand, but what I have to tell Katie Ann, I would like to do in person. I’m planning to travel to Canaan to do so. I know from Ivan that’s where they lived, but I think it would be less shocking for Katie Ann if she knew I was coming as opposed to my just showing up on her doorstep.”

  “I see.”

  It was quiet for a few moments, and Miriam wondered if her mother was going to hand over Katie Ann’s phone number and address. She fumbled with the string on her prayer covering while she and Shelby waited, but when she heard footsteps moving in the opposite direction, Miriam knew that Mamm was ushering her to the door in the den that led to the front of the hous
e.

  Miriam heard their voices, but she could no longer make out what was being said. She heard Lucy’s car on the driveway before her mother returned to the kitchen. Shelby was busy pulling the almost-burnt shoofly pie from the oven as Miriam asked, “Did you give her Aenti Katie Ann’s address and phone number?”

  Mamm drew her brows into a frown. “Mei maedel, were you eavesdropping?”

  “It’s hard not to hear when you’re so close by.” Miriam paused. “What do you think Lucy wants? Poor Aenti Katie Ann. I bet she doesn’t think fondly of Lucy or want to talk to her.” Miriam let out a small gasp. “I think it would be awful if Lucy just showed up on Katie Ann’s doorstep, though, without Katie Ann being warned.”

  Mamm put her hands on her hips, pressed her lips together, then watched through the screen door as Lucy drove away in her car. “I did write down the phone number and address for her.” Mamm turned slowly around and faced Miriam. “If Lucy is determined to go see Katie Ann, she will. It will be best if she calls her first to warn her.” Mamm tapped her fingers on her crossed arms. “Maybe I’ll call Katie Ann tomorrow to let her know that Lucy has her number and address and might pay her a visit. It sure wonders me why Lucy feels the need to travel all the way to Colorado to talk to Katie Ann, though.”

  They were all quiet for a minute, then Shelby changed the subject.

  “I know I’m leaving here soon, but I sure hope I can come back for Miriam’s wedding in November.”

  “You have to come back!” Miriam bounced on her toes as she wiped her hands on her black apron. She couldn’t imagine getting married without Shelby nearby. Then she turned to her mother. “Mamm, you know, we need to start planning since that’s only three months away. I’ll need a new dress, and—”

  “Plenty of time for all that,” Mamm said abruptly, then walked across the den toward the mudroom. When she returned, she was toting a broom and dustpan. “Little John spilled his plate this morning, and I think I missed some of the crumbs.” She began to sweep rapidly as if the conversation about Miriam’s wedding was not up for discussion.

  “Mamm . . .” Miriam edged closer to where her mother was sweeping. “Saul and I are going to be baptized in October. Don’t you think we need to be planning my wedding?”

  “Miriam, I’m busy right now. I told you that we have plenty of time.”

  Miriam recalled when her friend Anna Kauffman published her wedding announcement. They only had six months to plan the event, and everyone was panicking. Why was her mother acting so unconcerned? “I’m going to marry him, Mamm, even if you don’t like it,” Miriam grumbled.

  “I’m sure you are,” Mamm said as she scooped the tiny amount of crumbs into the dustpan.

  Miriam folded her arms across her chest and knew the Lord would not be happy with her actions. Her tone with her mother was unacceptable, but her mother was refusing to accept Saul.

  Miriam dried a few dishes, then paused as she closed her eyes and bowed her head, facing away from her mother and Shelby.

  Dear Lord, please guide me and Saul onto the path You have planned for us—whether it’s here or in Pittsburgh.

  She opened one eye and glanced around the room at the only life she’d ever known, then closed her eyes again.

  And please help Mamm to love Saul—or at least accept that I love him.

  18

  BY TWO O’CLOCK ON SATURDAY, THE BARN WAS ALMOST framed in, and a sense of fellowship had spread among the hundred or so folks present. But Saul felt lost as he mechanically worked alongside his father and wondered what he’d say to Miriam. He’d asked his father about the bishop and Noah’s visit, but his father only said, “Always gut to have company.” But there was a sadness in his father’s eyes, so Saul knew there was more to it. He felt the need to stay close to his father, although watching Miriam throughout the day brought a longing to be near her as well.

  Ruben and James knew something was going on, and they had asked Saul about their visitors several times. Saul told them he didn’t know. It was the truth. But he felt a dark cloud looming over his family, and he kept waiting for the bottom to fall out.

  “Sohn, I think we’ll be done here soon.” His father pounded a nail into a board high above them while Saul held it in place. “You and me need to talk privately when we get home.”

  His daed didn’t look at him, but Saul couldn’t take his eyes off his father, a complicated man with years of pain mapped across his face, his long dark beard speckled with gray and his tall frame thinner than in his younger years. “Ya, okay,” he said softly.

  Twice he’d seen Rebecca talking to the bishop again, and once he caught her in deep conversation with his father. What were they all plotting? Maybe they were planning to shun his father. Saul didn’t know how he, Ruben, and James could keep the farm going by themselves. Despite Daed’s shortcomings, his father could work circles around all three of them.

  Rebecca walked by and gave him a hesitant smile. He glared at her, then hammered in another nail with strength he didn’t know he possessed. He was beginning to think that Rebecca would do anything to keep him from marrying Miriam. His family would be shamed when the news leaked out, as it surely would, and even though Saul believed that Miriam loved him, could she hold up to the gossip that festered even among a community that preached against such a sin?

  He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart, wishing he didn’t need to have that conversation with his father when he got home.

  Rebecca knew that Bishop Ebersol had talked to Zeb, and she’d spoken to Zeb earlier in the afternoon, although it was one of the most awkward conversations she’d ever had. But she’d prayed hard about the situation, and she had to believe that God had guided her to busy herself in someone else’s private life for the good of everyone involved, including her daughter.

  She thought about Miriam, wondering how her daughter would take the events soon to unfold around her, and briefly worried that she should have talked to Miriam before she took matters into her own hands. There was no mistaking the way Saul had looked at her earlier, such anger in his eyes.

  Lord, please continue to guide me. I pray I’m doing the right thing.

  She waved as the last buggy left around four that afternoon with plans to finish out the inside of the barn the following Saturday. She felt Aaron’s arm come around her waist.

  “It’s a fine barn, no?”

  “Ya. Not as big as our other barn, but much sturdier.” Rebecca crossed one arm on her chest and brought her other hand to her chin. “We needed a new barn.”

  “Mei daadi built that barn.”

  They both stood quietly in the yard as the August sun shone down on them from a cloudless sky. Rebecca dripped with sweat. Everyone had worked hard today, and there was nothing like seeing a new barn following a day of hard work and fellowship. But Rebecca couldn’t fully enjoy their efforts. Saul and Miriam weighed heavily on her mind.

  “Zeb said he is going to talk to Saul tonight.” She turned to face Aaron. “Are we doing the right thing?”

  “We?” Aaron smiled. “There is no ‘we,’ mei fraa. I told you I wasn’t sure about any of this. You believe you are doing the right thing. I am praying you are.”

  “Do you think that we will lose our dochder once this unfolds?” She blinked back tears as she searched her husband’s eyes.

  “I don’t know, Rebecca.” He shook his head. “It fears me, keeps me up at night.”

  “Me too.” She turned to face him, looked up into his hazel eyes. “But I believe I am doing the right thing, for everyone.”

  Aaron smiled, kissed her lightly on the lips. “I hope so.”

  Saul didn’t think his stomach could churn any faster or harder. No one said much during supper, and with Ruben and James out milking the cows, Saul quickly finished cleaning up the kitchen dishes, then joined his father in the den. His father was sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded under his chin. He looked up at Saul
, then nodded for Saul to take a seat in the rocker across from him.

  Daed was pale, and his hand was trembling. He’d seen his father’s hands shake before, which happened when he hadn’t had any alcohol for a while. Saul copied his father’s posture and leaned forward, his elbows also on his knees. Outside, he heard crickets chirping and the cows mooing, and the evening sun shone through the window in the den. A normal night. But Saul knew things were far from normal.

  His father stroked his beard and avoided making eye contact. “Saul, I have a drinking problem.”

  Saul didn’t move or breathe. Even though he knew his father’s drinking would be at the core of the conversation, he didn’t expect his father to blurt it out. He waited for him to go on, keeping his eyes on his father’s face.

  Daed looked up, blinked a few times, and said, “I need to go away for a while, sohn.” He fixed his eyes on Saul as if searching for a reaction. “Bishop Ebersol and me both agree that this is something I need to do. Noah Stoltzfus is helping us make the arrangements.” His father leaned back against the couch and sighed. “I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you and your bruders through.”

  Saul felt his eyes watering up, but he was determined not to cry. He stared hard into his daed’s weathered face, the evidence of hard work, a nurturing father. “Daed, you’ve been a gut father.” Saul blinked back tears as he sat up in his chair. “When Mamm and Hannah died, I know it was hard, and”—Saul took a deep breath—“and you’ve always taken care of us.”

  His father stirred uneasily on the couch as he shook his head. “No, Saul. I have failed in the Lord’s eyes, and I must right my ways.” He choked out the words as if just talking caused pain in his throat. “I want to be a better father, and to do that, I need to go away for a while.”

  “No, Daed. Miriam and I are getting baptized in October, then married in November.” Saul couldn’t imagine his father not being at those two important events in his life. “You have to be here.”