by Naomi King
“That sounds inconvenient,” Abby remarked as she led Rosemary to the display of kitchenware.
“Dangerous, too. One day I nearly brought a stack of glass bowls down on my head,” she continued in a low voice. “I ducked in time, but I wasn’t happy about those bowls shattering on the floor. I changed things around in that kitchen right then and there—and thank goodness Titus is none the wiser.”
Rosemary’s expression lightened as she reached for a stack of disposable foil pie plates. “These are perfect for the pies I take over to the cafés in Bloomingdale and Queen City,” she said as she took two bundles. “And Alma’s old egg beater hardly cranks anymore,” she added as she reached for a new one. She turned to look at Abby in wide-eyed exasperation. “You must think I sound ungrateful for the home Titus has provided me, or that I want everything to be my own way, or—”
“Not at all.” A real liking for Rosemary welled up inside Abby. “It’s only natural for a woman who bakes so much to want her kitchen gadgets to work and to rearrange the cabinets for everyone’s safety. Let me get you a shopping cart.”
As Abby walked up the aisle toward the checkout counter, she glanced over to where Beth Ann was fingering the fabrics. The girl looked totally enthralled, as though she could imagine herself wearing a new cape dress in each of the fresh colors, even though she had to limit herself to one or two. “When you’ve picked out all your yard goods, let me know,” Abby called across the tops of the shelves. “And whenever you’re ready to see my Stitch in Time corner, we can head upstairs.”
Beth Ann’s head bobbed up. “Oh, I’d love to look around in your shop and see what all you’ve made, Abby!”
What a compliment, coming before the girl had seen any of the quilted jackets, placemats, or pleated white kapps displayed on Sam’s shelves. Abby grabbed the handle of the nearest cart. “On the pegboard to your right, Beth Ann, you’ll see one of the rag rugs Zanna has crocheted, as a sample for folks to order from,” she said. “My sister’s doing a real gut business at that. We never figured her for a rug maker, but it’s perfect for her while she starts a family.”
“Oh, Rosemary, this rug would look wonderful-gut in the kitchen!” Beth Ann exclaimed. “That poor old thing we have now has been on the floor since before I was born.”
Dismay flickered over Rosemary’s face. She handed her supplies to Abby and went to see what Beth Ann was looking at.
Abby placed the items in the cart. How could she convince Titus Yutzy to allow for a few new things in the kitchen? Men had no idea how minor changes could make a woman’s work easier…and how much better a homemaker felt surrounded with fresh colors. Surely a new rug wouldn’t be a betrayal of his wife’s memory…
“Jah, this rug’s a gut size for in front of the sink, Beth Ann. Such cheerful colors in it, too,” Rosemary agreed, but then she hesitated. “We’ll ask your dat before we buy one, though. He likes to keep the house the way your mamm had it—”
“But Mamm was ready to make a new rug!” Beth Ann protested. “She had the strips torn and the ends sewn together, but she got to feeling so puny from her chemo that she didn’t have the patience for it.”
Again Abby’s heart went out to Rosemary and Beth Ann. If she could think of a way for a new rug to appear at the Yutzys’ house…or if she could convince Beth Ann to send those fabric strips to Zanna for crocheting into the rug Alma Yutzy had intended to make…
“Which two colors of this crepe do you like best, Beth Ann?” Rosemary asked, steering the conversation along a different route. “As fast as you sew, you could make yourself a couple of new dresses before this Sunday’s church service. Your dresses from last summer might be too short by now. You’ve gotten taller these last couple of months.”
Beth Ann immediately pointed to a bolt of cornflower blue and to another one the color of butterscotch. “I could make you a dress, too, Rosemary,” she insisted again, pointing to the bolt of lavender. “That way you’d have a pretty dress ready for whenever you feel like wearing it.”
“Plenty of time for that—but denki for thinking of me. We could make a dress for Katie from that lavender, though…and another one from that dark gold you’ve picked out for yourself.” Rosemary’s expression said they would discuss her wardrobe no further, so Beth Ann pulled out the three bolts of fabric they had chosen.
Abby picked up the sharp shears from the table where she measured customers’ cloth. “This poly crepe is sixty inches wide,” she said as she unrolled a length of the cornflower blue. “How much would you like, Beth Ann? Probably takes about two and a half yards for a new cape dress in your size.”
“Jah, that’ll do for me. And it won’t take but a yard for each of Katie’s.” The young girl looked frustrated, but apparently she knew not to argue with Rosemary. “And cut eight yards of the black Triblend for Dat’s pants, please. That should be enough for three pairs, plus some patches for the old ones he wears to muck out the barn.”
Abby fetched a thick, heavy bolt of the Triblend denim most women made their men’s work pants and jackets from—a blend of denim, nylon, and polyester that didn’t fade or fray like cotton denim, so the garments lasted a lot longer. As Abby measured, Beth Ann marveled over the ginghams and calico prints Sam kept on hand for quilting. The Cedar Creek Mercantile supplied many of the area’s English and Plain women with fabrics for their clothing and crafts, so it wasn’t unusual for their customers to spend a long time in the fabric section.
“Oh, Abby, did you make this?” Beth Ann asked in an excited voice. “What a nice jacket for spring.”
Abby glanced over to where Beth Ann was holding up a lightweight collarless coat pieced from pink and green prints. “Jah, I make a lot of those. The English tourists seem to like the mixed-print jackets best, but I sew them in solids for Plain gals—and we sell the pattern for it, too.”
Rosemary was already walking toward the tall file cabinets where the sewing patterns were stored. “Now there’s a gut idea for you, young lady,” she said to Beth Ann. “Perfect to wear to school so your Sunday coat will last another season, don’t you think? And you’ve got a lot of solid colors to choose from in this twill, too.”
“Can I have the royal blue?” Beth Ann asked eagerly.
“Jah, you may have that color,” Rosemary corrected in a teasing voice. “And I’ll buy that for you myself if you’ll make me a jacket from the gray.”
“I can do that!” Beth Ann was hurrying down another aisle, toward the yarn in the store’s far corner. “And could you teach me to crochet, Rosemary? I could make a new afghan for the back of the couch. Or I could make a rag rug from the strips Mamm was sewing together.”
“Maybe someday,” Rosemary answered with a laugh. “We’ve lined up several projects for you already.”
Abby smoothed the blue crepe over the small channel in the table that kept her shears cutting in a straight line. “It’s gut to see her so excited about sewing,” she remarked. “These colors will make everybody feel like a new season’s come along—and Katie,” she added, tweaking the toddler’s cheek, “you will make everyone smile when you wear these pretty new dresses.”
“Smile—and chase after her. This little imp moves faster than any of us think her legs can carry her,” Rosemary remarked with a shake of her head. “It’s a gut thing Beth Ann sews our clothes. I no sooner get settled at the machine than I have a daughter on the loose. I don’t know how mamms with more than one child get their work done.”
“Before you know it, she’ll be wearing kapps and going to school,” Abby replied. “Next she’ll be Beth Ann’s age and then entering her rumspringa in the blink of an eye.”
“I can’t think about time moving that fast right now. But thank you, Abby, for bringing us into the store,” she went on. “Beth Ann asks for so little. This is a real treat for her.”
“I was that way, too—ever so long ago when I was twelve.” Abby laughed as she folded the fabric she had cut. “Take your time looking around while I
show Beth Ann my Stitch in Time nook.”
“Oh, she’ll love that. She’s always said she’d like to earn money sewing at home, once she’s finished school.”
Abby laid the armful of fabric in the shopping cart while Rosemary secured her baby in the seat. As she strode to the steps, her heart swelled. While most Plain girls learned to sew as a matter of course, not many of them got as excited about it as Beth Ann did. She apparently had a God-given gift for it, too.
“I see you’ve found my little corner,” Abby remarked as she turned at the top of the stairs. “When I sit at my sewing machine, there beside the railing, I can see almost everyone in the store. If Sam’s busy with a customer or unloading the supply truck, I can go downstairs and help other folks with what they need.”
Beth Ann nodded, wide-eyed, as she sat in the chair that faced the old treadle sewing machine. Her gaze flitted from the shelves of sewing notions and projects Abby had in the works to the curtained closet that served as a fitting room. “So what all do you make?” she asked. “Do you mostly sew for folks who order stuff? Or do you keep busy making those placemats and jackets to sell in the store?”
“That’s a very gut question. It means you’re really thinking.” Abby noticed that Beth Ann’s legs and arms seemed long in proportion to her body, as though she would grow tall like her mamm one of these days, while her adolescent face gave only a hint of how her features would finish out. “I started out sewing placemats, napkins, and jackets for our store when I got out of school. And a couple years ago, I made the curtains for your aunt Lois’s restaurant—”
“Mother Yutzy’s Oven? She makes the best sticky buns on the planet,” Beth Ann said matter-of-factly.
“Jah, she does. I made matching tablecloths for her place, too.” Abby picked up a scrap of periwinkle fabric, smiling fondly. “I sewed Zanna’s wedding dress from this fabric, and I made Matt and Jonny’s pants, vests, and white shirts. I also sew for a lot of older fellows who have lost their wives.”
Beth Ann was nodding. “I could do that, maybe even before I finish school,” she said in a faraway voice. “When I’m at the machine, with my feet going in a gut, steady rhythm on the treadle and my mind focused on what I’m stitching, I lose all track of everything else, you know?”
“Jah, I do that, too,” Abby whispered, feeling a tug at her heartstrings. This child, lonely for her mamm, had discovered the perfect remedy for times when her soul sagged. “I get lost in my sewing and when I look up, I think Sam has surely moved the hands of the clock forward to fool me.”
When Abby glanced at the regulator clock above the stockroom, her eyes widened. “I should ring up your bill and get back to helping with the supper now,” she remarked. “See there? Getting to know you and Rosemary has made the afternoon fly by!”
The smile on Beth Ann’s face gratified Abby immensely, and as the two of them descended to the mercantile’s main floor, she had a prayer in her heart. Lord, You’ve blessed me with so many fine moments during Zanna’s wedding, and now with two new friends. I hope You’ll bless Rosemary, Beth Ann, and Titus, too, and bring them peace as they move into the future.
A few minutes later, the three of them were walking toward Titus’s carriage with a paper shopping sack of fabric and another full of kitchen supplies. From the greenhouse, where a few windows had been opened, came the sound of dozens of young voices singing a favorite hymn. While the married women finished preparing the evening meal in Barbara’s kitchen, most of their men were scattered around the lawn visiting and enjoying the warm afternoon.
“Can you believe it’s almost time for supper?” Beth Ann remarked. “Seems like we just finished our dinner.”
Abby held the carriage door open while Beth Ann arranged their bags in the back. “And I thank you both for helping us with the sandwiches and the silverware—”
“Beth Ann!” a familiar voice called from the house, and then Ruthie hurried down the gravel lane toward them. Because she was still in school—too young to attend singings—she was in high gear, helping the adults keep the festivities on track. “When they finish singing this hymn, it’ll be time to put out that silverware we bundled, and the plates. If you’d help me, it would go lots quicker.”
Beth Ann’s face brightened. “I can set a table faster than you can!”
“Puh! We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
As the two girls hurried off, Abby closed the carriage door. “Ruthie is certainly glad you two came today. And if your Katie needs a nap, I’ll be happy to take you to my place,” she added, pointing toward the smaller house beyond Sam and Barbara’s two-story home. “She can snooze on my guest bed.”
Rosemary’s green eyes glimmered with gratitude. “Denki for all you’ve done for us, Abby. We left home before dawn, so Katie might not be the only one who curls up for a few winks, depending on when Titus plans to leave. I’ll go ask him.”
Abby walked alongside her until they got to Sam and Barbara’s house, where several women were carrying food from the kitchen to the greenhouse. “See you later,” she said, patting Katie’s dimpled knee.
As Abby left the kitchen a few minutes later, balancing platters of sandwiches, the young people surged out into the fresh air so the greenhouse could be readied for the evening meal. Already in the yard, Matt wore an expression that made Abby chuckle: her nephew had apparently been watching for the Yutzys to leave the mercantile. He beelined toward Rosemary, but remained several steps behind her when he saw that she was approaching Titus. Meanwhile, he was making funny faces at Katie, coaxing the toddler to laugh at him over Rosemary’s shoulder.
And wasn’t that interesting?
Abby entered the greenhouse and placed her trays on two of the tables. She watched Beth Ann and Ruthie setting out the silverware while Beulah Mae Nissley, Adah Ropp, and Bessie Mast swept beneath the tables. What a blessing that they could serve today’s meals in this glass building. Cut flowers and bridal bouquets had no place at a Plain wedding, but the potted hyacinths, tulips, and daffodils her grandmother had grown to sell in Treva’s Greenhouse made such a beautiful addition to the white-draped tables. The late-afternoon sun brightened the entire room so much it would almost be like they were eating outdoors.
As she glanced outside at the gathering crowd, Abby caught sight of James Graber. He was facing in her direction as he laughed with Gideon and Jonny Ropp…Such a wonderful smile he had, and such a forgiving heart. Not many men would have accepted Zanna’s rejection as gracefully as he had. And not many fellows would befriend the man who had stolen his bride, either. James had designed and constructed Jonny’s new horse-drawn van and had completed the special vehicle ahead of other buggy orders so that Jonny could start his mechanical repair business sooner.
And weren’t James’s gentle smile and his forgiving nature just two of the reasons Abby wished he would see her as more than a friend? She headed back to the house for another tray of food, returning James’s wave when he caught sight of her. Maybe—if she was lucky—a little of the romance in the spring air would bring them closer today. It couldn’t hurt to hope so.
Chapter 5
Rosemary stood alongside a cluster of gray-bearded men, hugging her daughter while waiting to get Titus’s attention. Katie was in one of her giggly moods, so Rosemary swung her from side to side, reveling in her smile and the golden highlights the sun brought out in her braids.
Titus was having a fine time catching up with fellows he’d known as a boy in Cedar Creek. It was good to see him enjoying conversation that didn’t concern Alma or Joe or what he’d been missing since their deaths. Maybe coming to the wedding would improve all of their moods, if only because Joe’s dat had forgotten his sorrow for these hours he’d spent among friends.
When Uncle Ezra finished his story about an old fishing hole they had frequented as boys, Rosemary spoke up. “Will we be staying for the supper, Titus?” she asked quietly. “We’ve loaded our shopping bags into the carriage—”
“And
I’m assuming you had enough money?” he interrupted with a purposeful gaze.
Rosemary reached into her skirt pocket for his change. “Denki for letting us choose a few things. Beth Ann will be busy sewing up dresses for herself and Katie and new work pants for you, too.”
“And did you find anything for yourself, Rosemary?” Sam Lambright asked with a kind smile. Weddings were one of the rare occasions when Amish men assisted their wives with meal preparation so the young girls could socialize: he was pulling a high-sided wagon loaded with clean dinner plates, and he had stopped to chat with these friends on his way to the greenhouse. Sam was more outgoing than most of the other men, probably because he did business with so many folks in his store. He chucked Katie under the chin, which made her wiggle her feet and giggle again.
“I found several things, jah,” Rosemary replied. “It was awfully nice of Abby to take us inside, considering how busy you’ve all been with the wedding today.”
“If you think of other supplies you want later, I hear our Matt will soon be coming your way with some rams,” Sam remarked. “He’ll be glad to bring along whatever you need.”
Rosemary smiled politely. Why was everyone so set on telling her that Matt Lambright would be driving to the Yutzy farm? Sam’s son seemed like a nice enough fellow, but she had absolutely no interest in getting better acquainted with him. What would be the point?
“We’ll eat our supper here,” Titus said. “It’ll save you from having to cook after the long drive home, when it’ll be time to put Katie down for the night.”
Rosemary nodded, hoping she appeared more grateful than she felt. It was indeed a treat to eat a meal someone else had prepared, but she sensed that a certain pair of playful brown eyes would be seeking her out again. Soon it would be time for the tradition of “going to the table,” when Zanna and Jonny would pair up the unmarried wedding guests for supper, so Rosemary decided to disappear to the kitchen, where she could wash dishes. She certainly had no place among the unmarried folks, though, at twenty-three, she was younger than some of them.
