Fortunately, the buggy Daniel had purchased had a storage compartment mounted on the back. Between that space and the back seat, they were able to store all of the supplies. Once they were back in the buggy, Becca realized she would need to tell her parents about today. She didn’t have to, but she’d feel better if she did. Keeping things from them only made her feel childish and on edge. Better to have the hard conversation.
She chuckled lightly.
“What’s funny over there?”
“I was thinking of something you could put in your book of wisdom.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Have the hard conversation.”
“I don’t get it.”
She turned in the buggy, her back against the space where the seat met the door so that she could better watch him. Daniel was a handsome man, and he was older than she was. It seemed that in some areas he was pretty inexperienced—especially when it came to relationships.
“Explain it to me,” he prodded. “If I’m going to put it in my notebook, I need to understand it.”
“Okay. Say that you hire my bruder to come over and help you plant your field.”
“I did hire your bruders to help me plant my field.”
“Uh-huh, but say they did a terrible job.”
“They did a great job.”
“Work with me here.”
“All right. I’m pretending they did a terrible job.”
“Now, would you tell them so? Or would you thank them, pay them and send them on their way.”
“Hmm. I’d be tempted to do the latter, and then just not ask them to help again.”
“Exactly!” Becca reached over and patted his arm. “I knew you would get it.”
“But I don’t get it.”
“Look. If you did what you just said—thanked them, paid them, sent them on their way, then how would they learn? They’d go on being terrible farm workers, and word would get around, and then they wouldn’t be able to find a job.”
“But if I had the hard conversation...”
“Which is difficult to do because you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and it’s awkward, and you could be wrong.”
“I’m pretty sure I know a bad farm worker when I see one.”
“Right, and doesn’t the Bible say to speak the truth in love?”
“I believe it does.”
“Only you have to search your heart first—to see if it is love that’s motivating you or if it’s something else.”
Daniel directed Constance down their road, and then into Becca’s lane.
“I could have walked from your place.”
“With all these groceries?”
“Oh, right.”
He pulled Constance to a stop, set the brake, then turned to study Becca.
“So this hard conversation that you’re about to have... I assume it’s about what happened at the coffee shop.”
“It is.” Becca watched Daniel closely. She didn’t see any condemnation there. He hadn’t said a word about how silly she’d been. No I-told-you-so. Just compassion.
“Would you like me to stay, provide emotional backup?”
She leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek, then patted his arm again when he blushed bright red. “Danki, but this is something I need to do on my own.”
* * *
The next two days passed in a flurry of preparation. In addition to Daniel, they’d have Onkel Jeremiah, plus Abigail and her family. Becca kept rechecking her tally, and each time she ended up with sixteen. Or was it seventeen?
“Stop with the list.” Her mamm reached across and tugged on the sheet of paper, then set it out of her reach. “We’ve prepared plenty of food, and we’ll make room for whoever shows up. It’s going to be fine, Becca.”
“I guess.” Her mind was spinning with all the things to do before the luncheon, which was traditionally held around one thirty.
“What do you think it means to be Plain?”
That pulled Becca out of her planning mode as if she’d been splashed with cold water.
“Huh?”
Her mamm stood, refilled their coffee cups, then sat back down. Her dat and Clyde and David were in the barn caring for the animals, and the rest of the family was still asleep. It was the precious part of the day before the pandemonium started. In a family as big as theirs, every day held its share of chaos, but Thanksgiving more than others.
“Tell me what you think it means to be Plain.”
“I’ve already joined the church, Mamm. I know what Plain means.”
“Right. I know you’ve been through the bishop’s classes, and I’m pleased that you did commit yourself to the Lord, our church and our way of life.”
“But?”
“But what do you think it means to be Plain?” Her mamm smiled over the rim of her coffee mug. “Humor me.”
“Okay. Well, it means our life is simpler, that we strive to be in the world but not of it, and that we choose to do things the old way. We do sometimes embrace change, like the solar panels that are going up on everyone’s houses, but we do so carefully and slowly.”
“Gut answer.”
“Danki.” Why did she feel like she’d received an A on a school paper? She sipped her coffee and tried to guess what her mamm was up to, because she was definitely up to something. Her expression was smiling, but her eyes were quite serious.
“We strive for simplicity.” Her mamm’s voice was soft, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “But with our large families, sometimes life is anything but simple.”
“You can say that again.”
Her mamm leaned forward, as if she was about to share a secret. “The simple part is in your attitude, Becca. Our lives are as complicated as anyone’s, but if we keep our focus on what matters and don’t allow ourselves to be caught up in the whirlwind of modern living, then we can have the peace that many strive for.”
“You’re telling me to forget about the seating chart.”
“It’ll never work, and it doesn’t matter.”
“I suppose.” For some reason, she was especially concerned about the holiday meal going well this year. “I guess I want today to be perfect.”
“Things will never be perfect. Perfect is overrated.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Her mamm stood, walked to the sink and then came back and stood behind Becca’s chair. She put her hands gently on Becca’s shoulders, leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. It felt like a blessing of sorts, and for reasons Becca couldn’t have explained, it brought tears to her eyes. “Enjoy today. We’re only able to experience each day once, and it’ll pass in the blink of an eye.”
Then her dat came in, and her siblings stumbled to the table, and they were soon praying over the light breakfast and the day to come.
But suddenly Becca’s mind stopped racing.
She forgot to worry about the next minute.
She allowed herself to enjoy the present one.
Enjoy today. It’ll pass in the blink of an eye.
Definitely something that Daniel needed to write in his journal.
* * *
Maybe it was because Daniel had lived in their house for ten days when he was sick.
Or maybe it was because he’d grown accustomed to having all of Becca’s schweschdern and bruders around. It could have even been that he missed her dat’s jokes.
Whatever the reason, Daniel relaxed the minute that he arrived at the Schwartz home. Becca wouldn’t let him pay for the groceries, but she couldn’t stop him from bringing food to the meal. Everyone did that. Daniel had gone back to town on Wednesday and purchased everything he could think of that might go with the meal Becca and her mamm were cooking.
Now, as David and Eli helped him carry the sacks into the house,
both Becca and her mamm stopped to stare at him.
“What is all of that?”
“Oh, just some...you know. Food. And stuff.”
Becca gave him a glare that seemed to say, “Didn’t we talk about this?”
But her mamm only walked over, kissed him on the cheek and said, “Danki, Daniel. That was very thoughtful.”
Hannah and Isabelle had started to paw through the groceries, and both squealed when they found the gallons of ice cream.
“Six? You bought six gallons of ice cream?” Becca walked over to him, stood close enough that Daniel could smell the scent of the shampoo she’d used, and peered up into his face. “Did you get a little carried away?”
“Well, there was a special, and I didn’t know what flavor everyone liked.”
“Lucky for us, looks like you bought every flavor they had.”
“Is there room in the...”
“Freezer? Ya. The girls will show you where it is.”
The freezer was gas-powered and old, but it kept the food cold. Hannah and Isabelle led him out to the mudroom, he stuck the ice cream way down in the bottom, and they returned to the kitchen in time to find that Georgia and Francine had found the games he’d purchased.
“A new board game, and look—it’s a Plain version.” Georgia pushed up her glasses as she stared at the box. “I can be the horse.”
“Then I get to be the lamb.” Francine was actually laughing, something she hadn’t done much of lately. For the day, at least, perhaps she could forget her focus on her rumspringa.
There were also three types of card games—Uno, Skipbo and Dutch Blitz.
“There must have been a sale in the game aisle, too.” Becca tossed him a knowing look.
But Daniel understood that she didn’t really know his secret. She thought he’d simply been caught up in the holiday spirit and thrown caution to the wind. The truth was that he’d been looking for a way to pay the Schwartz family back for taking care of him, and today seemed like a natural way to do that.
Eli lined the liters of soda on the counter. “We never have soda, and hardly ever have ice cream.”
“Ya, but you have your mamm’s cooking.”
“True.” Eli tapped one of the bottles. “Maybe tonight we can make root beer floats, after I beat you at chess.”
“Dream on, kid.”
Daniel thought it was funny that the boy liked chess nearly as much as he liked baseball. Perhaps it was just the playing that he liked, anticipating the next move, trying to outthink someone. He was athletic, but he also had a good mind. There was no telling what the lad would grow up to be.
Eli was already heading toward the chessboard, but Samuel walked into the room and claimed he needed help outside. As Daniel followed him, Becca’s dad admitted, “Need to use up some of their energy. Plus, it helps Sarah to have them out from underfoot for an hour or so.”
Daniel didn’t know if his dat had ever done that for his mamm. He didn’t think so. At least he didn’t remember it. His parents’ marriage had been strained for so many years—by the inheritance and the choices their children were making, maybe even by the way the community treated them differently—that he really couldn’t remember a holiday like the one Becca’s family was enjoying.
In Becca’s family, everyone seemed to actually like each other.
If he ever married, he’d give up every dollar in his bank account to have this sort of home and this sort of relationship. He hadn’t thought it was possible. He hadn’t believed that people genuinely cared for each other so much. But as they walked to the south pasture and everyone scattered looking for items to place in the Thanksgiving bowl, he started to believe that he’d been wrong.
An hour later they were back in the house. Onkel Jeremiah had arrived while they were gone, and he’d stoked up the fire in the big stove that heated the sitting room. The place felt warm and cozy, and if his stomach wasn’t growling Daniel might have been tempted to sit on the couch and nap a bit. But then Abigail and Aaron arrived with their two sons. Abigail was now eight months pregnant, and though she was obviously uncomfortable, it seemed that there was an aura of happiness around her.
And why wouldn’t there be?
Aaron obviously doted on her, and they were expecting their third child. He wasn’t too surprised to see her slip a small knitted bootie into the Thanksgiving bowl.
Becca and her mamm hurried from the kitchen and took their place in the haphazard circle. Becca had explained this tradition to him, but seeing it firsthand was an entirely different experience. The sitting room wasn’t especially large, but they were all seated together. Everyone was hungry because of their light breakfast, but no one complained. The feast to come would more than make up for any current hunger pains.
Onkel Jeremiah sat in a rocker, with his Bible open in his lap. “The Lord be with you,” he said.
“And also with you.” Hannah and Isabelle practically bounced as they recited the age-old words with the rest of their family.
“This year I thought we’d read Psalm 107.”
The murmurs around Daniel varied from “That’s a gut one” to “Have we read that before?” to “I hope it’s short.” That last was from Clyde, and instead of being in trouble, he elicited laughs from everyone.
Then Jeremiah began to read, his voice rich and deep and filled with more wisdom than Daniel could write into his book if he lived another fifty years.
“O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endureth forever.”
They all quieted, settled, focused.
“Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom He hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy...”
Daniel felt suddenly redeemed. He was nearly overpowered by a feeling of humility.
“And gathered them out of the lands, from the east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south. They wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way...”
Daniel had done exactly that. His wilderness had been of his own making, though. His solitary way had been a choice. He understood that now, and the understanding lifted a weight off his shoulders that he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.
He must have spaced out, because Jeremiah closed his Bible and quoted the last verse—a verse that seemed written especially for Daniel. “Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the loving kindness of the Lord.”
Amens circled the room, and Samuel offered a short prayer, and then it was time for the Thanksgiving bowl.
* * *
Becca loved the old ceramic bowl that sat in the middle of the table. Her mamm had explained that it belonged to Becca’s great-grandmother, and that it was used before there was running water—when they would place a pitcher of water and a bowl on the nightstand so that in the morning you could splash cold, clean water on your face.
They didn’t have many things in their home. The furniture was tattered after years of use. There were no fancy lanterns or store-bought lap blankets or machine-woven rugs. Most of what they had was homemade or used. Somehow none of that mattered when she looked at the Thanksgiving bowl brimming with items.
“Everyone has placed an item in the bowl, ya?”
Each person in the room nodded. Samuel passed the bowl to his wife, who put her hand in, pulled an item out without looking, and smiled. “This seems to be a baby bootie, and I believe that it’s from Abigail, who is grateful for the child soon to be born.”
“That was too easy,” Eli insisted, but he took the bowl from his mamm, shut his eyes and pulled out a book. “Ha. This must be from Georgia, and I think I remember her saying that her teacher gave it to her for helping all semester at school.”
And so the bowl was passed around the room, each person pulling out an item and guessing who was grateful for the thing and what it represented.
Daniel pulle
d out a wooden car that one of Abigail’s boys had put into the bowl.
Georgia pulled out the newspaper clipping of a buggy. Everyone knew that was Clyde’s item.
“Once he owns his own horse and buggy, he’ll be able to go out every night with Melinda,” David teased.
When it was Becca’s turn, she pulled out a bright red rooster feather. “This could only belong to Carl-the-bad-tempered-rooster, and I can’t imagine who would...”
But then she noticed Daniel staring at the floor, trying not to laugh.
“Daniel? And why would you be thankful for my unruly rooster?”
“Don’t you remember the day I met you? You were trying to fend him off with a rake.” Which started everyone laughing and telling stories of Carl. It wasn’t until they’d dispersed to the kitchen that Becca realized Daniel hadn’t explained exactly what he was grateful for. “A rooster?”
“Not exactly.” He pulled her back into the living room, making sure they were alone, and then kissed her softly on the lips. “I’m thankful for you, Becca. Every single day.”
Chapter Ten
The time between Thanksgiving and Christmas passed like a blur in front of Becca’s eyes. Every trite expression she’d read about being in love felt like a reality.
Her feet barely touched the ground.
Her stomach was filled with butterflies.
She’d find herself putting the milk in the cabinet and the fresh baked bread in the refrigerator.
If her family noticed, they didn’t tease her about it, but everyone was busy with Christmas preparations, as well as the upcoming school program. She was grateful that no one’s attention was on her.
No one’s except Daniel’s.
They enjoyed walks through his fields.
He told her his plans for spring crops.
They took buggy rides for no other reason than that the days were fine, the winter sunshine was beautiful and they wanted to be together.
Twice more he kissed her—once in the barn and another time in the buggy.
The Amish Christmas Secret Page 13
