Living in Harmony

by Mary Ellis

  “Nooooo.” Nora dragged out the word. “But we baked pretty Christmas cookies to share, sang carols at church and singings, exchanged inexpensive gifts, and had another big turkey dinner.” Amy’s gutsy sister didn’t back down.

  Thomas didn’t reply to that, but his brows coming together above his nose and a mottled red complexion adequately expressed his opinion. He started to eat with urgency, as though suddenly remembering somewhere he needed to go.

  “Well,” interjected Amy. “The meaning of Christmas is remembering the arrival of the Savior. I’m sure we can read the three accounts of His birth in the Gospels on Christmas Eve.”

  Thomas nodded at Amy. “Jah, of course, you can. That’s how we usually mark the holy day.”

  John cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I told Amy that the bishop will allow us to take the marriage classes.”

  Thomas fixed his blue eyes on Amy. “Jah, the bishop said you can join them. Is that your desire, Amy, to wed over the coming winter months?”

  “It is. We would be married by now if we hadn’t moved here.”

  “But you did make the move. I hope you have found our district satisfactory to make a home in.”

  “I have.” She set down her glass, squirming a little under his assessment.

  “In that case you need to be at his daughter’s house at three o’clock.” Thomas rose to his feet, pushing back his plate. “Danki for lunch.”

  “Today?” squawked Amy.

  “Jah and every other week for four sessions, always on the Thursday before a preaching Sunday.”

  John was already shrugging into his coat. “I must check livestock in the pasture and clean stalls. Be ready to leave by two, Amy. An hour should be ample time to get there. His daughter doesn’t live too far away.” He smiled gloriously, donned his hat, and left by the side door, as did Thomas.

  “Does this mean we don’t have to start fall cleaning today? I hate washing walls.” Nora pulled apart her sandwich to eat only the meat, cheese, and tomato slice. She tossed the homemade bread into the compost bucket.

  A ripple of irritation nearly made Amy’s eyes cross. “Nora King, if you’re not the laziest person in this state, I don’t know who is! We’ve enjoyed Sally’s hospitality for months, yet you barely lift a finger to help her out. You should be ashamed of yourself. Mamm would be ashamed of you.”

  Nora’s eyes quickly filled with tears. She dropped the remnants of her lunch onto her plate. “I was only joking. I assumed we would at least start on one room.”

  Amy carried a stack of plates to the sink. “Well, today you’re not very funny. And we’ll do more than just start a room. While I do the dishes, you move the furniture away from the walls in the living room.” She turned her back on her sibling, who left without uttering another word.

  By the time Amy had cleaned the kitchen, her temper had cooled. She found Nora in the front room washing windows with vinegar and newspapers. The rug had been rolled up and the furniture sat in the center of the room. Yet despite her restored calm, she couldn’t bring herself to apologize to Nora. That girl had pushed the limits of polite behavior for too long.

  Unfortunately, because they toiled in silence, Amy couldn’t stop work until the room was finished. Once they moved the last chair back in place, Amy hurried to the bathroom for a long, refreshing shower. The hot water cascading down her sore muscles brought soothing relief. Her respite, however, proved short lived. A knock on the bathroom door broke her pleasant daydream of sunny weather back home.

  “Are you about done in there? We need to leave within the next few minutes to arrive on time.”

  Sheer panic paralyzed Amy under the stream of water. Why on earth had she let her hair get wet? But the warm water had felt so good on her prickly scalp. “I lost track of time. Mir leid, but I promise to hurry.”

  “Amy, it’s our initial meeting. What kind of an impression will we make if we’re late?”

  “I wanted to clean at least one room before Sally returned.” She shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and stepped from the tub, chillier than the room’s temperature would warrant.

  “Do you mean to say you’re still dripping wet?” His tone was half growl, half mutter.

  “The more we talk about the situation, the longer it will take me to get ready. Please, John, wait for me outside. I won’t be long.”

  Amy King kept her word. Never before had she dressed, towel-dried her hair, and braided it into a coil so fast. She grabbed her purse, bonnet, and cloak from the peg without taking the time to search for her sister. Supper would be Nora’s sole responsibility. Amy ran out the door to their buggy. Yet her intended ehemann brooded all the way to the home of the bishop’s daughter. Even though he trotted the Morgan as fast as he dared, they were still ten minutes late.

  Once they were inside, Mary took their coats. “Did you get caught in a downpour?” she asked, studying Amy curiously. “I don’t believe it rained here.”

  “What? No, it wasn’t raining along the way.” She gingerly touched her damp prayer kapp.

  “Excuse us, Mary. We don’t want to keep folks waiting longer than we already have.” John took Amy’s arm and guided her down the hall and into the living room. Conversation ceased as all eyes turned in their direction. A moment later fond greetings of welcome sang out.

  Amy tried to explain their delay, but Bishop Andrew shook his head. “All’s well. Come sit close to the fire. You look cold.”

  The group’s friendliness, along with the bishop’s patience, soon put Amy at ease. She noticed that even John stretched out his long legs and unclenched his hands after a while. They listened intently while the expectations of fraas and ehemanns were clearly defined. Then Andrew explained in detail the customs and procedures for the wedding day. Afterward, each couple shared their plans for starting married life. In most cases the young couple would live with one set of parents until able to build a home on the family farm.

  “I understand you bought a farm on Waterville Road.” The bishop directed his statement toward William and Sarah, their new friends from the pig roast.

  “Yes, but the place needs lots of work before it can be called a home,” said William. “We plan to live with Sarah’s parents until the spring. John and Amy won’t have to wait, though. They bought a really nice house on Thorndike Road—biggest house in the neighborhood.”

  All eyes fastened on them. John seemed to puff up larger, but Amy shrank into her chair, not comfortable with William’s boasting. Pride was never encouraged in any Amish community.

  “Large, jah,” she said. “But that house needs plenty of work too. It hasn’t been lived in for a while, and the elderly owners weren’t able to do much upkeep when they were still there. If that’s even the one we purchase…we’re having a bit of disagreement about it.”

  “How so?” asked Andrew, looking directly at John.

  John deflated inside his shirt and vest. “I want to pool our money and pay cash, avoiding a mortgage altogether.”

  “But that would deplete our funds,” interjected Amy, “leaving nothing for repairs or necessary furnishings or unexpected doctor bills.” She spoke louder than she’d intended. The hardwood floor, without the softening effect of an area rug, didn’t help.

  The bishop gazed at John and then at Amy. “I understand your concern, but it is the Amish way to avoid borrowing money whenever possible. God will provide for your needs, including furniture. And you’ll have the entire district’s help with major repairs or medical expenses.” He possessed the calm, gentle voice of a wise old man.

  “I’ll give it some thought. But in our case, we don’t need to rush into anything.” Amy folded her hands and leaned back in her chair.

  She didn’t look at her fiancé, because she truly didn’t wish to see his expression.

  “It’s pitch-dark already,” murmured Amy, stating the obvious.

  John hitched his horse to the buggy as a sharp wind blew through his thin coat. It was time to start w
earing his heaviest wool. “I imagine it’s about half past six.” He kept his tone as pleasant as possible.

  “It sure makes a difference when we take the clocks off of daylight savings time.” She settled herself on the seat and wrapped the blanket around her legs.

  “Some districts don’t change to fast time, but Harmony isn’t one of them.”

  “I would like daylight savings time all year round.”

  John had no comment to this, so he merely grunted. With a cluck of his tongue, the buggy began to roll down the driveway toward home. Trained Amish horses could find their way back on the darkest nights, even if the driver fell sound asleep.

  After a minute Amy turned to face him. “You’re awfully quiet, John. Is something bothering you? Why not just come out and speak your mind.”

  He inhaled a deep breath and released it. “Okay, then, I’ll do that. If you disagree with me, I wish you would wait until we’re alone to voice your opinion instead of doing so in front of our friends and certainly not in front of the bishop. He might not choose to marry a couple who quarrels over minor details.”

  Amy wrinkled her nose. “I see your point to a certain extent. But if I let the matter go, it would be like lying because I haven’t made up my mind about paying the full amount in cash. And I would hardly describe my inheritance—my entire life savings—as a minor detail.”

  John considered the “what’s yours is mine” aspect of most marriages but decided to hold his tongue. Maybe he would feel differently if he had inherited more than a hundred thousand dollars. So he selected a benign response. “All right, but when you come to a decision could you let me know?” He tugged some of the lap robe over his legs.

  “You shall be the first I tell.” She angled a wry grin. “I wish I’d eaten more cookies with my cup of hot chocolate. I am starving.”

  “Me too. I wonder what Sally and Nora fixed for supper. I sure hope they saved us some.” He let the horse pick up speed on the straightaway.

  “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “Sally’s away today helping a sick district member. She’ll be gone until late. Supper was left up to Nora and me, but then we were called to the couples meeting.” She gripped the edge of the seat for support. “I didn’t tell Nora what to do.”

  John patted her arm. “Relax. Nora is twenty years old, not nine. I’m sure she saw us leave and figured out that making dinner was her job. Goodness, Amy. Sometimes you treat her like an English houseguest, not a grown Amish woman.”

  She smiled weakly. “You’re absolutely right. We’ll eat whatever she’s made even if it’s soup and day-old bread.”

  “I’m so hungry I’ll probably fight you for the last stale crust, but all will be well.”

  But all was not well. When John drove the buggy inside the Detweiler barn, he found his brother tending livestock by lantern light. “Good evening,” he greeted and unharnessed the horse as quickly as he could. “I hope you saved us something to eat. We only got a few women-type cookies with cherries stuck in the center. That stanchion of hay is starting to look good.”

  Thomas fixed him with his blue-eyed stare. “You’ll find cold cuts and cheese in the refrigerator in their usual location.”

  John led the Morgan to his stall and began brushing with serious intent. “What do you mean by sandwich fixings? Is that what you ate?” He spoke over the stall wall.

  “It was.” Thomas strolled to where John worked. “A sandwich and a cup of reheated coffee. A pie had been cut into slivers, but I left my share for someone else. It didn’t seem enough to dirty a plate.”

  John’s empty gut rumbled. “I know Sally has been away, but wasn’t Nora home all day?”

  “She was, but she got caught up in fall cleaning and forgot to make supper.” Thomas held his brother’s gaze for a moment before returning to his own chores.

  John carefully drew the brush through the mane and tried to tamp down his anger. He didn’t succeed. When he finished the rubdown and fed and watered his horse, he headed to the house as though on a mission. The kitchen was empty, but he heard water running in the bathroom. “Amy?” he called at the door.

  “I’m frozen solid, John,” she called back. “I’m drawing a tub. Give me a little time and I’ll reheat something from dinner.”

  John marched into the living room. He knew dinner had not been prepared and put away. He found Nora by the woodstove reading a library book with her feet on a stool. A crocheted shawl was draped around her shoulders.

  “Is it too much for you to take up the slack when Sally and Amy are both gone?”

  Nora blinked her catlike eyes. “I did. I scrubbed the house all day until maybe an hour ago. My hands are red and cracked from the cleaning solution.” She set her book on the floor to give him full attention.

  “That’s all well and good, but you need to assume responsibilities when they are left in your hands. Have you never heard of multitasking? As fond of Englischers as you are, surely you’ve heard of the concept. While cleaning, you could have stewed some beef or baked a chicken.”

  Nora narrowed her focus into a glare. “Amy left without saying a word. I thought she planned to return in time for supper. I would have been happy to take care of it if she’d mentioned—”

  “You shouldn’t need to be told or left a reminder on a Post-it,” interrupted John. “You are an adult, Nora. If you wish to be pampered like a child, then I suggest you move back to grossmammi’s. Which is exactly where I will send you if you don’t straighten out!”

  Her mouth fell open with shock and humiliation. Nora King was utterly speechless for the first time in her life.

  John clamped down on his molars, shocked by his vehemence. The stress of the counseling session and near starvation had taken their toll.

  “That is not your decision to make, John Detweiler.” Amy stepped from the doorway into the room. “Nora is my younger sister, so she is my responsibility, not yours.” There was no mistaking the strength of her conviction. “We are not man and wife yet… and at this rate, maybe we never will be.” Her voice trembled with exasperation. Stress and fatigue had taken its toll on her too.

  He spoke without thinking. “You sound just like her, Amy, which makes you far too willful to be my wife.”

  John strode quickly from his brother’s house and ran down the lane toward the road. He kept walking until his rage dwindled to impotent frustration. When he turned toward home, shame, fear, and regret filled his heart. As he sat down to eat bologna-and-cheese in a dark, cold kitchen, he found that his sandwich offered little sustenance.

  It stuck in his craw alongside his mean-spirited words.

  SIXTEEN

  See Thee on Thy judgment throne

  A wave of relief like a summer shower washed over Thomas as Sally’s buggy pulled up the driveway. Although he hadn’t expected her home much before then, he worried whenever she was on the road after dark. And tonight both of his sons had been with her. “Whoa,” he said to the horse, catching the bridle on his second attempt.

  “He’s eager to get to his oats in the barn.” Sally pulled on the reins. “But not quite as eager as I am to relax with a cup of tea.” She handed down a drowsy Aden.

  “How did it go at the Millers?” Thomas held on to the horse with one hand while he clutched his son to his chest with the other.

  “Gut. Better than I hoped in my fondest dreams.” Despite her fatigue, Sally’s face glowed with the joy of accomplishment. “At first Agnes didn’t want me to see how….verhuddelt things had become around the house.”

  “Mixed-up, you say?” he asked. “That’s hard to imagine, but maybe that’s why she had to swallow her pride. She’s used to keeping a tidy home.”

  “Her gout is bad, Thomas, and her husband is too frail to help much. The district should hold a work frolic there before winter comes. The Millers need their home made handicapped accessible, including moving the washing machine from the basement to the ground floor.” She climbed down, carrying Jeremiah asleep in the crook of h
er elbow.

  “It will be done as soon as possible.” Thomas set Aden on his feet because the boy awoke without the lulling movement of the buggy.

  Sally stepped closer to him instead of toward the house. “Oh, Thomas, Agnes made me feel so welcome and appreciated. She praised my cooking as though I’m one of those famous Boston chefs. And she thanked me several times for cleaning and doing her laundry. I have made a true friend in the district.” Her eyes sparkled with delight.

  “If you have won the heart of Agnes Miller, everyone else will be easy as pie.” He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “Shall I help you put the boys to bed?”

  “Nein, I can manage while you tend the horse. The sooner you put him away the sooner we can get to bed. I’ll brew us cups of chamomile tea to help us sleep.” She started up the path and then stopped. “How was supper? Was my cuisine put to shame by my Pennsylvania gourmet sisters?” She winked with amusement.

  Thomas removed the bit from the horse’s mouth. “Let’s just say I’m not going to bed hungry, but we won’t bring up the subject of tonight’s dinner in the foreseeable future.”

  She shifted the boppli to her other arm. “Oh, dear, what happened? You must tell me.”

  “Nothing to worry about. I’ll tell you once we’re warm under the quilt. Go inside before you get chilled. I’ll join you soon.” Thomas watched as Sally lifted Aden to her hip, despite her weariness and his rapidly increasing weight. A wave of emotion seized his heart and lodged in his throat. Danki, Lord, for bringing Sally into my life and for bringing my family safely home.

  But Thomas found more than a cup of tea waiting in the kitchen once he finished his chores. John sat staring at the wall with a half-eaten sandwich and a cold cup of coffee.

  “Aren’t you worried about that stuff keeping you awake?” Thomas shrugged off his coat and hat.

  “No. If I can’t sleep tonight it’ll have nothing to do with caffeine.” He took another gulp and grimaced.

  “Did you have words with Elam?”