by Beth Wiseman
“Ain’t you got work? Or did they fire you?”
Lucy took a deep breath. “I’m off today because they needed me to work Saturday. And I’m off tomorrow too because that’s my regular day off. Do you want any eggs or not?”
“No. I think you might try to poison me.”
Lucy laughed. “Mom, if I wanted to poison you, don’t you think I’d have already done it?” She picked up Benjamin and took him with her to the kitchen, but not before turning around to catch the look of surprise on her mother’s face. Mom’s jaw hung low, and Lucy just shook her head.
Dear Lord, give me strength.
19
MARIANNE SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, FEELING LIKE A small child as her husband reprimanded her. She’d sent Anna out early this morning, fearful this was coming. She was actually a bit surprised that Isaac hadn’t started chewing on her last night when they got home from the hospital. Surprised, but thankful. She’d been mighty tired. The folks at the hospital had wanted her to stay overnight, but she’d insisted on coming home to her own bed. She’d finally won that argument, but it had worn her out. This morning she felt stronger, though she could have skipped the argument with Isaac.
“Why would you not take your insulin pills?” he was saying. “I have always said to seek out homeopathic remedies first, but if your health is at risk, I would never expect you not to take medications prescribed by the Englisch doctors.”
Marianne sat taller, raised her chin. “The only doctor I’ve gone to for years is Noah Stoltzfus, and he wouldn’t refill my prescription without a visit to him because it had been so long.”
Isaac pulled out a chair and sat down across from her at the kitchen table. “There are other doctors. I would have made sure we got a driver to take you to Lancaster . . . or even Philadelphia or Pittsburg or Harrisburg. Dr. Stoltzfus is not the only doctor there is.”
“He’s the only doctor I trust.” Marianne folded her arms across her chest. “Everyone around here likes him, and I’m sure I’m not the only one not taking care of my medical needs because I don’t want a new doctor.”
Isaac hung his head, sighing heavily. “Mei lieb. You know why we can’t use Dr. Stoltzfus. He’s been shunned. He took his vows, broke them, and even wrote a book defaming his family.”
“Oh pooh, Isaac!”
Her husband’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open.
“Noah is a gut man, and his whole reason for opening a clinic in the heart of our district was to give back to our people. He has more than made up for any mistakes he’s made, and his family has forgiven him.” She pointed a finger at her husband. “Besides, he’s cheaper than anyone around. He’s a gut doctor, and I’m not going to anyone else.” She gave her head a taut nod, grunting just a tad.
“You’re behaving like a child, Marianne.” Isaac shook his head. “I try and try and try to make our people see the dangers of becoming too involved in the world of the Englisch. We’re already forced to do business with them because we can no longer make a living just tending our land. Our young people are exposed to things that would have curled our grandparents’ toes.”
He leaned back, frowning. “All those electrical gadgets they have these days. That rock music, the television shows and movies—all the outside influences that past generations haven’t had to deal with. It’s all very dangerous, Marianne.”
“You tell me exactly what is dangerous about using a skid loader? Why must elderly men use a push mower for dozens of acres when a riding lawn mower is much safer for their hearts? And is it so bad to have a cell phone for emergencies? What would have happened if I hadn’t had a phone in the basement for Anna to call for help?”
He didn’t reply, so she went on. “You have to choose your battles, to listen to people and be reasonable instead of just forbidding everything. As it is, half the district thinks you’re abusing your power. I hear things, Isaac, when folks don’t know I’m listening.”
“I have nothing but the best interest of this community in my heart, and I prayerfully ask the Lord’s guidance in all that I do. We must not veer so far from our ways that we will never be what we were again.” He paused and stared at her. “And when did you decide it was all right to talk to me like this?”
“Today. Something awful could have happened to that sweet Benjamin—and all because I haven’t felt like standing up to you about Dr. Stoltzfus. I’m going to go see him, Isaac. So I guess if you want to shun anyone, you had better start with your own fraa!
“And another thing.” Marianne stood up from the table, slamming her palms down. “Jacob Hostetler is a good boy. And it’s just your own stubbornness that makes you forbid Anna from seeing him. And if you’re not careful, you’ll push her so far away that we’ll never see her. So you think about all of this, Isaac Byler. You just better think!” She turned and marched out of the kitchen.
She didn’t turn around when Isaac called her name. Instead, she opened the basement door and started down the stairs. Isaac might need to clean up his act, but Marianne knew she had some housekeeping of her own to do.
Jacob finished his potato soup and half a ham sandwich, but Anna was picking at her salad. “Not hungry?” he finally asked.
“Still just a little worried about my grandmother.” She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth. “She scared us all by letting her blood sugar get high enough for her to pass out, and I shiver to think what could have happened to the boppli who was in her care at the time.” She shook her head. “And all because she wouldn’t go against my grandfather and get her prescription filled.”
Jacob pushed his empty dishes to the end of the table when the waitress walked up. “But she hides all that stuff in the basement, right?”
“Ya. She does. It’s very childish, but maybe years of living with my grandfather pushed her to do some silly things.”
“Anna, I have to get straight with him. I love meeting you for lunch every day, but I want us to be able to do some other things, and I want to have you over for supper. I want my family to know and love you as much as I do.”
Jacob felt the heat rushing up his face as he realized what he’d said. He’d known he loved Anna for a long time, but this wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned to tell her. Still, her smile told him he’d waded into safe waters. “I do, you know.” He reached for her hand. “Love you, that is. And I want everyone to know.”
Her face was as red as the checks on the tablecloth. “Really?” she asked softly.
“Ya. Really.” Jacob was waiting to hear how she felt about him when a thump on his shoulder caused him to jump and look to his left.
Bishop Byler.
“Anna, go home.” The bishop glared at Jacob, who tried to stand but bumped his knee on the table. There wasn’t enough room to stand and face Bishop Byler, so he was forced to sit there while Anna hurried away. Jacob was surprised when the bishop slid into her spot. He pushed Anna’s plate out of the way and leaned forward. “We have a situation.”
“Yes, sir.” Jacob sat as tall as he could and tried to keep his voice level. “I love your granddaughter, and she . . .” He paused, unsure if he should say that Anna loved him. She hadn’t had time to tell him how she felt.
“Did I tell you no kissing?”
“Ya.”
“Have you kissed mei maedel?”
“Ya.”
“More than once?”
“Ya.”
The bishop took off his hat and scratched his head for a few moments before he put it back on. “You have both been untruthful about your plans in the past. And now this . . .” He waved his arm around. “I’m guessing these lunches have been going on for a while.”
“Yes, sir.” Jacob held his breath, worried he would never see Anna again. Bishop Byler would surely see to that.
“You will come for supper on Saturday.”
Jacob blinked. Had he heard right?
“I will allow you to see Anna. But . . .” The bishop pointed a long finger at Jacob. “The
re will be no more of this kissing.” He leaned closer, his scowl so intense that Jacob shivered. “There hasn’t been anything more than kissing, has there?”
Even if there had been—which there hadn’t—Jacob was pretty sure that at that moment he would have lied. “Nee. Only kissing, sir.”
Bishop Byler pounded a fist on the table. “No more. No more kissing until you are married.”
Jacob swallowed hard. He’d fantasized a hundred times about making Anna his wife, but he’d assumed her grandfather would never allow it. “Okay,” he said hesitantly.
“I am serious. You may court Anna, but no more of this sneaking around. And no more kissing!”
Jacob glanced around the restaurant as he wondered how many people heard the bishop’s booming voice. He lay in bed every night counting the hours until he could kiss Anna again. Was this a promise he could keep? “But we’ve already kissed, so I’d think that—”
Bishop Byler hit the table again. “Promise me now. No more kissing until your wedding.”
Jacob liked the sound of that so much that he nodded. “Yes, sir. No kissing until we are married.”
“We will publish the news soon enough.”
Jacob swallowed hard. Maybe he should actually ask Anna to marry him before any more plans were made. But he just smiled and said, “Yes, sir.”
Anna finished her deliveries and got home around four o’clock. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she’d wondered all afternoon what her grandfather must have said to Jacob. She’d probably never be able to see Jacob again. And he’d said he loved her.
Distraught as she was, her own worries moved to the back of her mind when she walked into the living room. It was not the same room she’d left that morning. Lacy white curtains had replaced the green shades that had covered the windows, the mantel was lined with angel figurines, and there was a large decorative bowl filled with potpourri in the middle of the coffee table.
“Mammi?” Anna called softly as she walked into the kitchen. Her eyes widened when she saw the table set with fine china she’d never seen before, along with gold-rimmed tea glasses and fancy cloth napkins. A beautiful serving bowl etched with tiny flowers sat in the center of the table.
Anna’s eyes traveled across the countertop to a battery-operated hand mixer laid out beside a colorful set of red and white mixing bowls. Several store-bought floral dish towels were folded next to a large crystal pitcher filled with tea. Anna briefly wondered what happened to the old Tupperware one they’d always used.
A lovely calendar with landscape pictures and a scripture reading for each month decorated the wall at the end of the counter. Next to it hung a cuckoo clock with a small blue jay barely poking his nose from behind a box. Anna presumed he would come out and crow on the hour.
There was more. Lots more. Anna was still taking it in when her grandmother walked into the kitchen with a pink sweater draped over her shoulders and wearing a silver necklace. Anna just stared at her. She couldn’t speak.
“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Mammi put her hands on her hips and scanned the room. “Speaking of cats, where is my little Patches? I haven’t seen him all day.” She blew out a breath of air, gave her head a quick shake, then walked to the oven and pulled it open. “New recipe tonight—pepperoni lasagna. A little Italian dish I’ve been wanting to try for a long time.” She pulled out a pan, and Anna breathed in the aroma. It reminded her of the pizza place in town.
“Mammi? Are you feeling okay?” Anna couldn’t stop looking around the kitchen. Each time she noticed something new. Daadi is going to go crazy when he sees all this.
“I’ve never felt better, dear—except it’s really too warm in here for a wrap.” She pulled the pink sweater from her shoulders and draped it over the back of her chair at the table. “Ach, and I went to see Dr. Noah this afternoon so I can get a refill on my prescription.” Her smile faded. “I do feel just awful about putting poor little Benjamin in danger. I’m sure Lucy will never ask me to babysit again. The doctor said that usually low blood sugar makes you pass out. In my case, my blood sugar was so high that I was near a diabetic coma. He said I was very lucky.” She shook her head. “Blessed. I’m very blessed.”
“Mammi, is all this stuff from your basement collection? What do you think Daadi is going to say?”
Marianne lifted her head, seeming to snap out of her thoughts about Benjamin and her health. “Ach, I suspect he’ll make me get rid of most of it.” She chuckled. “But I’m going to enjoy it for now and try to sway him into letting me keep a few of these things out.”
Anna eased out a chair and slid into it, fearful she might actually fall down. “Uh, okay,” she mumbled as she watched her grandmother pull the oven door open, take a peek, and shut it again. Her grandfather had never cared for Italian food, not even pizza.
She squeezed her eyes closed when she heard her grandfather’s heavy footsteps coming up the porch steps. The screen door opened and closed and the steps continued, then stopped suddenly. Daadi was surely taking inventory of the new decor. Anna wished she could sneak out of the house before he made his way to the kitchen. But her grandmother just scuttled around the room with a smile on her face, seemingly unworried.
“Marianne?”
Anna slowly opened one eye and barely turned to face her grandfather as her heart thumped in her chest. He walked closer until he was standing between Anna and her grandmother. He repeated himself. “Marianne?”
“Hello, Isaac. Sit down. Supper will be ready shortly.” Mammi placed a tray of sliced garlic bread on the table. Anna wasn’t sure, but it looked like maybe it was the frozen kind you buy in the grocery store.
Her grandfather didn’t move. He looked like a statue, frozen in a state of shock with his jaw hanging low, his eyes bulging. But then, to Anna’s surprise, he slowly pulled out his chair at the end of the table and sat down. He met Anna’s stare, closed his mouth, and frowned.
Mammi put the lasagna on the table, then filled the fancy serving bowl with salad. “Now, Isaac, I know that you aren’t fond of Italian food, but this is something special. You try it. If you really don’t like it, I won’t make it again.”
Daadi’s face turned red as his eyes scanned the kitchen, his gaze landing on the cuckoo clock before he focused on Mammi. “Woman, have you completely lost your mind? What is all this?” He recklessly waved a hand around the kitchen, then stared at the pink sweater draped over Mammi’s chair. “And what is . . . that?”
Anna held her breath as her grandmother walked over to her chair, slowly picked up the sweater, and draped it over her shoulders again. She put her hands on her hips and gave him a thin-lipped smile before she spoke. “We are changing a few things around here, Isaac.”
Daadi turned even redder, and Anna thought he might self-combust. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? You have spent your entire life being a gut example of how a good Amish fraa should behave. Why would you disobey me after all these years and turn to the ways of the Englisch?”
Anna pushed back her chair. “I’ll come back later.”
“Sit.” Her grandmother pointed a finger at her. “Everyone is going to eat this fine meal that I have prepared.”
Anna did as she was told, but she’d lost her appetite. Mammi squinted her eyes as she peered at Daadi.
“You listen to me, Isaac. There is nothing wrong with anything in this kitchen. I might have gone a little overboard in the living room.” She paused, tapping a finger to her chin. “We can discuss it later and hopefully come to a compromise.”
“Where did all of this come from?” Daadi put a hand to his chest.
“I’ve been living with your intolerance for most of my life, Isaac. I’ve amused myself by purchasing a few extras over the years . . . with my own money that I’ve collected from the bakery deliveries.”
Anna put a hand over her mouth, trying not to grin. “A few extras” was a huge understatement. Anna had never been more thankful that her grandfather couldn’t make
it down the basement steps to have a look at those few extras.
Daadi lowered his hand from his chest, placed both palms on either side of the china plate, and sat taller. “Is this all of it?”
Anna held her breath.
“Nee.” Her grandmother raised her chin. “I’ve got an entire room full of things I’ve bought. It used to be quite challenging—ordering things from catalogs, getting money orders to pay for them.” She shook her head and smiled. “But now that I have a credit card and the Internet, it is so much easier. And my iPhone, of course.”
Daadi pounded his fist on the table, rattling the china and the crystal glasses. “All of this will go, Marianne. When I come in from the fields tomorrow, I expect to see all of this gone and things back to normal.”
Anna didn’t know what to do. She looked back and forth between her grandparents, wishing she could disappear. But she didn’t dare move.
“I don’t think so, Isaac.” Mammi leaned her face close to Daadi’s. To Anna’s surprise, he actually backed away, his lip turned under. “I have decided to share the wealth, as the Englisch would say. Much of this I bought just because—ach, I don’t know, because it was forbidden, I guess. But much of it could be put to better use than being hidden in an old broom closet.”
“What exactly do you have down there?” Daadi spoke cautiously, in a tone of voice Anna had never heard him use. Oh, Daadi, if you only knew.
Mammi tapped a finger to her chin. “Let’s see. I have my radio, my comfy chair, lots of pretty jewelry and trinkets, and—”
“Nee! Nee!” Daadi laid his forehead in his hands before he looked back up. “Say this isn’t true, Marianne.”
Mammi stood straight up, walked to the crystal tea pitcher, and began filling all their glasses. “Ya, Isaac. I enjoy listening to country gospel music. I wanted a television, but without electricity, that was proving to be a challenge. When I was at the diner several years ago, the television was on, and I watched a game called Jeopardy.” She sighed before she placed the pitcher on the counter. “I think playing that game along with the television would have kept my mind sharp.”
