Becoming Bea

by Leslie Gould

  I frowned. “You’re only twenty.”

  “Jah,” she said. “And I’m not getting any younger.” Hope climbed into bed. “I’m so glad Dat let me come to Lancaster County.”

  “Because of Martin?”

  She blushed and then said, “Don’t you want to get married?”

  I shook my head.

  She laughed. “That’s what I like about you. You’re not afraid to be different.”

  I wasn’t sure that was a compliment.

  She pulled her quilt up to her chin.

  I put my brush on my bedside table and divided my hair with my fingers.

  “Your hair is so pretty,” she said. “So thick and wavy. And the color of chestnuts.”

  “Oh, goodness,” I said. “I’d give anything to have blond hair like yours.” Molly’s hair was close to the color of Hope’s, just a little darker.

  She shook her head. “Mine’s thin and ordinary. Yours is beautiful.”

  Before I could think of what to say—she’d embarrassed me—she turned her head back so she looked straight at the ceiling and then said, “Time to say my prayers.” She closed her eyes.

  “Mind if I leave the lamp on for a few minutes?” I flipped my long braid over my shoulder.

  She shook her head but didn’t speak.

  I kept forgetting to ask Cate for one of the infant care books to read. I’d told Nan I would. I needed to do it, even though I had little time to read at all.

  I sighed. Tonight I just wanted a minute or two to myself. I grabbed my journal from under my bed, holding it as I said my prayers silently. I asked forgiveness for my sins, those I was aware of and those I had no idea about. Then I went through my mental list of things I was thankful for. I yawned several times before I finished. Too tired to write much, I simply penned, I’ve made a friend. I’m so thankful I didn’t go to Montana.

  By the next afternoon, the day was as warm as summer. Hope and I hung more wash—this time baby sleepers and T-shirts, spit rags, diapers, and blankets. The tiny clothes were the cutest things I’d ever seen. I shook each out and admired it before pinning it to the line.

  Halfway through the load, Doris’s van appeared.

  Hope dropped the blanket in her hands. I quickly scooped it up off the grass and shook it out.

  “They’re back,” Hope whispered, grabbing my arm.

  I expected a vanload of dirty, mangy guys to descend on us but instead Bob’s daughter Betsy climbed out of the passenger seat, tucking a strand of honey-blond hair under her Kapp. She’d been pretty and trim as a teenager. Now she appeared tired and a little plump, but still attractive. But why was she here?

  Maybe Doris had picked her up when she dropped Ben off.

  When Doris got out of the van my heart began to race. Had something happened? Usually she just dropped people off or picked them up. She was always in a hurry.

  “Where are the boys? Are they okay?” Cate stood at the door to the shop.

  “Jah,” Betsy turned toward her sister as she spoke. “Doris couldn’t find them—they were out hunting. Except for Ben. He was at camp.”

  I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Ben to stay back while the others were doing all the hard work.

  “He’s going to tell them all to be ready in the morning. Doris will pick them up then.” Betsy’s back was toward me but she was speaking loudly. “Ben got a deer—”

  My face warmed. He hadn’t been lazy.

  Betsy started walking toward her sister. “He had it all dressed out, cut up, and wrapped, and he sent it back with Doris. Could we put it in the freezer here? We don’t have room.”

  “Sure,” Cate said. “I’ll get Pete to carry it down.”

  She stepped back into the shop. Betsy turned toward us and, once she saw us, waved. “Bea,” she called out, “I didn’t realize you’d started helping out here already.”

  “On Monday.”

  Betsy walked toward us, followed by Doris. “Are you surviving?”

  “Jah,” I said. “The Bopplis are so sweet.”

  Betsy laughed. “Well, when Nan doesn’t need you anymore you can come help me.” Betsy’d had three children in three years. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had another one on the way. Her oldest, Robbie, was going on four now and was one of the cutest kids I’d ever met. He was smart as a whip and a tease to boot.

  As much as I liked Robbie, I couldn’t imagine being a mother’s helper for Betsy. She wasn’t much older than I was.

  Doris held a brown package in her hand. As she neared us, she extended it to me. “It’s from Ben.”

  I wrinkled my nose but didn’t reach for the package.

  Hope giggled. “Is it the buck’s heart?”

  “Eww,” I said.

  Doris shook her head. “It’s the liver.” She thrust the package toward me.

  I didn’t know what else to do but take it. “Why did he send it?”

  “He said you’d know.” Doris wiped her hand on her jeans even though the package wasn’t wet—just cold.

  “I have no idea,” I said. On the package he’d written, You said you wouldn’t eat a venison steak. So I sent this instead. Make sure and share it. Usually Ben was at least funny. This was just stupid.

  Betsy put her hands on her hips. “That Ben.”

  “Cook it for Nan,” Doris said. “The extra iron will do her good.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Good idea.”

  Pete approached, going straight to the back of the van, followed by Cate. “Who’s watching the kids?” she called out to Betsy.

  “Levi’s Mamm. Doris is taking me to an appointment, so we need to get going.”

  I glanced sideways at Betsy, wondering if she was expecting again, even though it was none of my business. Pete came around the side of the van, lugging a big cold box, and headed for the house.

  “Go peek at the babies before you leave,” Cate said. “They’re getting cuter and cuter.”

  Betsy frowned a little. “I’m happy for Dat and Nan and all, but I can’t quite believe, after all these years, we have siblings.”

  “Isn’t it wonderful!”

  “Jah . . .” Betsy turned toward Doris. “What time is it?”

  “Two ten.”

  “We’d better get going,” Betsy said, giving Cate a quick hug. “I’ll come back soon.”

  Betsy gave a little wave to all of us. Doris said she’d see us the next day. As they climbed back in the van, Cate said, “We’re way behind. I need to get back to work.”

  I nodded—I’d gathered that—and followed Hope toward the house, holding the package out in front of myself. I glanced backward, checking to see if Cate had reached the shop door. She had. And Doris had turned the van around. Pete came out of the house empty-handed. He must have left the cold box in the basement.

  After he passed us, I said, “I feel bad for Cate.”

  “Why?” Hope opened the door, and we slipped inside. The kitchen was empty. I hoped all three babies were still asleep, allowing Nan to nap too.

  “Well . . .” I wasn’t one to gossip or talk about private things. At least I hadn’t been before. “Because it appears Betsy might be having another child soon . . . and Cate hasn’t had one yet.”

  “But she will.”

  I stopped at the top of the stairs to the basement. “I hope so. . . .”

  Hope stared at me with a bewildered look.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Let’s take a break and have a cup of tea.”

  “You make it.” I started down the stairs. “After I put this liver in the freezer, I’ll start on supper.”

  After the noon meal the next day, Cate pushed her chair back and sighed.

  “Are you okay?” Bob pushed his empty plate forward.

  “Just tired.” Cate put the fork down.

  “Go take a nap,” Pete said.

  “I can’t.” She stood, her untouched plate in her hand. “I’m expecting several orders.”

  Bob draine
d his coffee cup. “I’ll take them.”

  “You won’t hear the phone in the shop.”

  “I’m working in my office for a couple of hours,” Bob said.

  Cate nodded and stood, heading for the stairs. I was surprised she didn’t put up a fight. She must have been up with the babies more than once in the night—or maybe she was getting sick.

  A few minutes later after Bob and Pete headed down to the shop, Hope and I were left alone in the kitchen. “I wonder if Cate’s coming down with that flu that’s been going around the district,” I said.

  “Jah,” Hope said. “That’s the last thing we need around here.” She grabbed a towel to dry the dishes I’d already washed. “But it’s probably just her condition.”

  “Her condition?”

  Hope smiled. “You know . . . ”

  Perplexed, I shook my head.

  “Oh,” she said and then blushed. “I was thinking maybe you didn’t know, after our conversation yesterday.” She lowered her voice. “Cate is expecting. She’s pretty far along—seven months or so.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. I was such a fool, as obtuse as Molly often claimed.

  “But they’ve all been pretty nervous about this pregnancy, because she’s lost several—one pretty far along.”

  My heart sank as I scrubbed a frying pan. “Poor Cate.”

  “Jah,” Hope said.

  No wonder Nan had been so gentle with Cate—and no wonder Cate had been so tired. No wonder they’d hired me to help.

  Hope quickly changed the subject, asking me what I thought we should fix for supper. “The boys are going to be starving,” she added.

  “We’ll feed them steaks.” I placed the pan in the rinse water. “There’s a whole shelf of them in the freezer.” That was Leon’s favorite meal, and I guessed it was true for other young men too.

  “Cate said they’ll be taking all of their meals with us for the next few days . . .”

  “Oh, goodness,” I said. It was one thing to come up with one meal to feed everyone, but three meals a day would be a challenge.

  “And they’ll be sleeping in the Dawdi Haus,” Hope added.

  “Do we need to get it ready?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Cate said it’s fine. The boys won’t notice a little dust.”

  I nodded in agreement. They’d been camping for the last few days—anything had to be better than that.

  All through the afternoon, Hope kept looking out the windows—first while we cleaned up in the kitchen, and then while we changed the babies’ diapers in Nan and Bob’s room. She was clearly impatient for the boys’ return.

  We scrubbed potatoes back in the kitchen as Nan and the babies napped. Not for long though. Just as we were finishing the potatoes, we heard Asher screaming.

  “That was the shortest nap ever,” Hope said as she rinsed off the last potato.

  “Poor Nan.” I turned the defrosting steak over on the counter and then washed my hands. “Let’s go,” I said.

  All three were crying by the time we reached the bedroom. Nan was holding Leah and Asher. Hope scooped up Kurt and changed his diaper and then handed him to me. Then she changed Asher. Nan had settled back on the bed with Leah.

  Nan suggested we take the boys outside. “Some fresh air will do them good,” she said. “I’ll see if Leah will nurse. Bring the boys up to me in about half an hour. Oh, and bring me a snack too, would you? I’ll be starving by then.”

  It wasn’t that long until suppertime, but it seemed as if a nursing mother didn’t need to worry about spoiling her appetite.

  Hope and I swaddled the boys in blankets and then headed downstairs and out the front door into the sunshine. Both babies closed their eyes against the brightness. Hope started to sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch, but I suggested we walk up to the garden. We hadn’t been getting much fresh air either, except when we did the laundry.

  The babies didn’t fuss as we strolled along the side of the house. Kurt seemed to be watching the leaves of the oak tree shimmer in the late afternoon sunlight.

  Hope sighed as we neared the garden. “I wonder what’s taking them so long.”

  “Maybe they weren’t ready when Doris got there.” I didn’t want to imagine what their camp looked like. “Or maybe one of them got another deer and they had to cut it up.” I had no stomach for that sort of thing and didn’t want to imagine it either.

  The leaves of the squash plants had begun to die back, showing even more of the pumpkins and the last of the zucchinis and acorn squash. “We should pick some for supper,” I said, starting to hand Kurt to Hope.

  “You hold the babies,” she said, handing Asher to me instead. “I’ll pick.” She slid Asher into my arms, his head opposite Kurt’s. Alarmed, I shifted the babies until my arms were balanced. Then I stood as still as I could, afraid one of them might slip.

  Hope bent down, pulling back the plants, reaching for the smaller zucchini.

  Asher kicked against his brother. I tentatively bounced the boys up and down a few times. They seemed to enjoy that. I began to sway.

  I heard the vehicle before Hope did and turned toward the driveway. Doris’s van was covered in dust.

  Phillip sat up front. Doris waved and then honked when she saw me.

  Hope sprang to her feet, a grin on her face, appearing much too eager to see them, in my opinion.

  Doris pulled up past the showroom and parked between the house and the shop. Cate stepped out, followed by Bob and Pete.

  The boys started clamoring out of the van. First Phillip, and then Mervin and Martin. Hope dropped the acorn squash in her hand onto the grass by the zucchini and started hurrying toward them. I followed, walking slowly. As soon as Mervin and Martin saw us, they headed our way—their matching sunglasses directed toward the babies.

  Hope skipped ahead of me, distracting Martin, but Mervin kept coming toward me. “Ach, Beatrice,” he said. “You have the little ones.”

  “Two of them,” I said. “Leah’s in the house with Nan.”

  Mervin put out his hands—as if I’d turn the little ones over to him.

  I turned sideways. “You’re filthy. Maybe you can hold one after you shower and change.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, looked down at his dirt-caked shirt and trousers, and then burst out laughing. “You’re right,” he said.

  Hope and Martin joined us.

  “Aren’t they adorable?” Hope cooed.

  “Triplets.” Martin stepped closer. “I can’t imagine. Our Mamm says she can’t remember the first year of our lives. I wonder what it will be like for Nan and Bob.”

  I nodded toward the van. “Speaking of . . .”

  Bob and Pete had joined Phillip in unloading the back as Don climbed out of the sliding door, followed by Ben.

  “What’s he doing here?” I asked.

  “Don?” Mervin bumped my elbow as he shifted around, making Asher stir. “He’s working—”

  I stepped away. “No. Ben. Why didn’t Doris drop him off at his place?”

  “Bob needs all of us to get the job done.”

  “But Ben isn’t trained . . .”

  “No, he is,” Martin said. “He’s been working here for a few weeks.”

  “Oh,” was all I could manage to utter, a bad taste forming in my mouth. Why hadn’t someone told me before I took the job?

  Ben began waving his arms at Mervin and Martin. “Hello!” he called out. “Come get your stuff.”

  “He’s such a stickler for fairness,” Mervin said. He chuckled and then added, “No wonder he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

  Ben was into fairness. I remembered that. He often feared I cheated during the spelling bees, which of course I never did. However, I understood his black-and-white thinking and pursuit of fairness because I was that way too. There was no reason for people not to do the right thing.

  We all started down toward the van, although I trailed behind, keeping my distance from Ben.

  Pete
pointed toward the Dawdi Haus. “You’ll sleep in there. There are two bathrooms, so go ahead and get cleaned up. Then come over to the big house—we’re going to barbecue steaks for supper.”

  “What a relief,” Mervin said. “We’re nearly starved from Ben’s cooking.”

  “Jah, I can imagine,” I said.

  “After supper we’ll have you put in four hours of work. And we’re looking at twelve tomorrow, at least.” Pete turned toward Bob. “Have I forgotten anything?”

  Bob held a box in his hands. “Just that we’re grateful to each of you for coming back early. We really appreciate it.”

  “Ach,” Martin said, “Ben got the only deer in the whole forest. Another couple of days wouldn’t have made a difference.”

  Ben put his hand up, and Martin slapped it, as if in victory.

  “So has Ben found a new best friend in Martin?” I asked Mervin.

  He shrugged.

  “You know how fickle Ben is,” I said. “They’ll be friends for a time, and then Ben will move on. He’s a bundle of contradictions—expecting people to be fair to him but not treating others the same.”

  Mervin shook his head. “That’s not Ben at all.”

  That was the way he’d been with me. I sighed, chiding myself. He probably wouldn’t treat others as badly as he’d treated me.

  “I take it he’s not in your good book,” Mervin said.

  “If he was, I’d burn—” If I hadn’t had two babies in my arms, I would have clamped my hands over my mouth. What a horrible thing to say. I’d never burn a book. Mervin laughed.

  Bob started toward the Dawdi Haus, stopping for a minute to say hello to his sons. They both turned their heads toward his voice. Then he continued on, followed by Phillip. Don followed his brother, but then veered off toward Hope and Martin. “You must be Bob’s niece,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “Don, this is Hope,” Martin said. “She’s from New York.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Don said. “I heard about you when I started here.” He glanced at Martin. “But didn’t have the opportunity to meet you.”