Becoming Bea

by Leslie Gould

“Denki,” I said. That was a good idea.

  I told Hope Nan had asked me to go to the store, grabbed a stainless-steel cooler from the basement, and then stepped into the shop office to tell Cate. “I’m almost done here,” she said. “I’ll go help Nan. And get supper started.” She leaned over her desk toward me. “Take Thunder. Dat’s horses are all so slow.”

  I’d heard about her horse, so I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. But he was getting older, so maybe he’d mellowed some. “See you soon.” It felt good to be getting away from the farm. I’d only been at the Millers’ six days, but it had felt like a lifetime. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much.

  The afternoon sun warmed me as Thunder trotted along the highway. I passed a field of corn, the stalks tall enough to provide shade. Harvesters cut the corn in the next field, sending bits of stalks and dust whirling toward me. I squinted as Thunder, without my urging, trotted faster. I squared my shoulders and clasped the reins.

  We reached the store in no time. Being as efficient as I could be, I hurried through, tossing what we needed into the cart. I paused for a moment to select the ice creams, choosing chocolate-peanut butter for Nan and mountain berry and rocky road for the boys, all in the gallon-size tubs.

  When I pulled out of the parking lot, I directed Thunder to the right instead of the left, toward the covered bridge and home.

  As we passed the bookstore, the door to the shop opened and Albert stepped out. I wished I could stop. I knew Nan wouldn’t mind, but I couldn’t justify it. Not when there was so much to do—and I had ice cream in the cooler. So I just waved.

  Albert stepped to the edge of the porch and, when he recognized me, waved back. As he did, Willa came out the door too. He put his arm around her, as if to steady her. She didn’t seem to recognize me at all.

  I waved again anyway, pushing away my sadness at their predicament, and then urged Thunder to go even faster, delighting in the wind against my face. I’d never felt so independent—and so needed—in all my life.

  By the time I turned up our driveway, I was sticky with sweat and thirsty. No doubt Thunder could use some water too. A loud bark came from the crest of the hill, but as soon as Love realized it was me, she rushed toward the buggy, her tail wagging. She ran alongside the front wheel until I pulled up by the barn.

  “Hi, there, girl.” I jumped down and rubbed around her neck with both hands. “Are you glad to see me?”

  She turned so her tail thumped against my leg. Her version of a hug. I unhitched Thunder, led him to the trough, and then tied him to the hitching post. The gray kitten poked her head out of the barn, but when I called out, “Here kitty, kitty!” she bolted. Disappointed, I headed toward the back door.

  Edna stepped out, drying her hands on her apron, a grin spreading across her face. “I was hoping it would be you,” she called out. “Are you going to spend the night?”

  I shook my head. “I can only stay for a minute.” Love nuzzled my hand as I spoke. “I went to the store for Nan. I have milk and ice cream in the cooler.”

  Her smile faded, but just for a moment. “I have an apple crisp on the counter.” Her eyes twinkled. “Come on in and have some.”

  No one baked like Edna. My mouth began to water at the thought—not to mention the smell coming through the back door. Then I remembered that Hope and I needed to pick the apples. I’d totally forgotten about it. I couldn’t fathom how busy mothers kept up with everything.

  A couple of minutes later, I sat at the kitchen table enjoying the dessert along with a cup of tea. Edna had fixed it the same way Mamm did—with milk.

  “I have two crisps for you to take back with you,” Edna said.

  “Denki,” I said, relieved because we had nothing for dessert that night. “I should have bought vanilla ice cream,” I said.

  “There’s a tub in the freezer you can take.”

  I took a sip of the tea, grateful for both the offer of ice cream and the caffeine.

  Love whined outside the screen door.

  “She’s been out of sorts,” Edna said. “She misses all of you terribly.”

  “She’s always been more Molly’s dog than mine,” I said.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that—not after seeing the way she reacted to you just now.”

  It was rather sweet.

  “How about you?” Edna sat across from me. “Do you miss everyone?”

  “Some,” I said, “but mostly I’ve been too busy. I never would have guessed taking care of three babies would be so much work.”

  Edna smiled. “Has Nan had many visitors?”

  I shook my head. “Just a couple of people dropping off food.”

  “What do they need?” Edna asked.

  I chuckled. “Anything. The crisps will be a big help.” I told her about Laurel’s meatballs and that we were having them for supper. “I’m going to come up with a menu list,” I said.

  “Good idea.” Edna took a sip of tea.

  I put my fork down. “I used to tease Molly about her lists—”

  Edna looked at me over the brim of her mug. “Tease?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, maybe mock.”

  She nodded.

  “Anyway,” I said, “I’m regretting it. Managing people and chores is a lot harder than I used to think it was.”

  Edna nodded but didn’t say any more.

  I told her about Mervin and Martin staying at the Millers’ to get the order done.

  “That’s what their Dat told me,” she said. “But he said they’ll be home by tomorrow and can do the chores here after that.”

  I nodded. I knew that’s what Bob hoped for.

  “I’m worried about Love when I leave though,” Edna said.

  “Maybe she’d stay over at the Mosiers’.”

  “Oh, I doubt it,” Edna said. “I’m not sure she’d even stay here with everyone gone.”

  “I’m sure Martin and Mervin will figure something out,” I said.

  Love began to bark again, but not out of alarm. It was her welcoming tone—the one she used when she recognized the visitor.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” I took my last bite of crisp.

  Edna shook her head as she stood.

  I finished my tea and then took my dishes to the sink, rinsing them.

  “Just leave them,” Edna said. “I’ll wash them after my supper. But don’t forget the ice cream.” She stepped to the freezer above the fridge and pulled out a small container. It would be gone in no time. Still, I was grateful.

  I picked up the two pans of crisps, putting one on top of the other, and followed Edna to the door and then outside.

  Our brother, Ivan, waved from his buggy. His wife, Nell, sat beside him.

  “Oh, they’re back.” Edna waved back.

  We walked toward them as Ivan tied his horse to the post and then scurried around the buggy to help his wife.

  “Oh, Bea,” Nell called out, holding onto Ivan’s arm as they came around the back of the buggy. “I’m so glad you’re here.” The two made the cutest couple. Both were a little plump with gray around the edges of their hair. And both were very happy, joking and laughing much of the time.

  As we met, Nell reached out and touched my forearm as I held the crisps out in front of me, not wanting to bump against the sticky edges.

  “I talked with Laurel this afternoon,” Nell said. “She told me you’re having a wonderful time at the Millers’.”

  “Jah,” I said, wondering exactly what her sister had said. Anything she knew would have come from Hannah—and who knew how reliable that would be. “Taking care of the babies and helping Nan is a challenge, but I’m enjoying it.” In that moment, away from my duties, I realized it was true. In fact, it was the most rewarding work I’d ever done.

  Nell’s eyes sparkled. “She didn’t say anything about your work, but she did mention the Youngie.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “I’ve become friends with Nan’s niece Hope.”

 
Nell laughed. “She actually didn’t say anything about Hope either. But she did mention that we should expect you to be courting soon.”

  My face grew warm. “Oh, goodness.” I struggled to sound calm. “I don’t know about that. But I do know I need to get back and help Nan. It’s good to see all of you.” I hurried on to the buggy and positioned the crisps in the back, wedging grocery bags around them. Then I took the ice cream from Edna and managed to make room in the cooler for it too.

  Ivan, Nell, and Edna all gathered around me. After telling them good-bye, I climbed into the buggy and turned it toward the lane. The three waved as I hurried on my way.

  I wondered whom Laurel had said I’d soon be courting—Don? My stomach lurched. Or Ben? “Ugh, ugh, ugh,” I said out loud.

  I’d have to ask Hannah if I wanted to know for sure.

  Love looked forlorn as I left, but before I reached the highway, she was tearing through the field, barking at a crow.

  Chapter

  9

  By the time I reached the Millers’, the sun had grown heavy against the hill, casting a golden hue through a bank of thin clouds along the horizon.

  I stopped Thunder by the house to unload before I went to the barn. The back door opened, and Mervin and Martin hurried out, scurrying around to the back of the buggy, followed by Don and Phillip. By the time I’d jumped down they had everything in their arms and were headed to the house.

  “Denki,” I called out.

  The others kept going, but Don turned around. “I appreciate it,” I added.

  He smiled. “You’re welcome.” He started on toward the back door but then turned again. “Go on into the house. I’ll unhitch Thunder.”

  I thanked him again as he went back into the house.

  I stopped next to Thunder, and he nuzzled my hand. “You’ll have to ask Don for a treat,” I said. “Sorry.”

  As I headed toward the house, Don bounded out, a carrot in his hand. He grinned. I smiled back. Our eyes met for an awkward moment until I glanced away. He wasn’t a bad sort, not at all. But that didn’t mean I wanted to court him—or anyone else.

  “See you in a bit,” he said.

  I nodded. “Denki for thinking of Thunder.”

  He waved the carrot above his head as he passed by.

  I braced myself for chaos as I entered the house. Instead I found the meatballs simmering in a tomato sauce on the stove and the potatoes boiling on the back burner.

  “Who made the crisp?” Mervin asked, standing next to the two pans on the table.

  “Edna,” I said. Then I asked if they’d be able to take care of the chores at our house for the next week.

  “Of course,” Mervin said. “We’ll finish the order up tonight and be back at our place by tomorrow.”

  A strange sense of sadness overcame me. Cooking for the boys definitely added to the workload, but it hadn’t been all bad to have them around. I’d started to enjoy the community that had been a part of Molly’s life for years.

  I noticed a plate, empty except for a few cookie crumbs, on the table.

  Phillip reached for it, but I snatched it up first. “I’ve got it,” I said.

  “We were just having a snack,” Phillip said.

  “Jah,” I said. “That’s gut.” They must have found the stash in the cupboard.

  “Except for Ben,” Mervin added. “And Pete. They’re busy in the shop. We need to get back too.”

  Martin said to send someone down when it was time for supper. I assured him I would. “Maybe Hope,” I teased as he hurried out the door.

  However, when it was time to call everyone to supper, Hope was upstairs giving Asher his bottle, so I headed down to the shop. Don, Bob, and Pete were on their way up to the house. Don stopped to talk with me, drawing a concerned expression from Bob. But I smiled kindly at Don, and Bob kept on going.

  “Ach, Bea, I—”

  “Beatrice,” I said.

  He shook his head in confusion.

  “Only my family calls me Bea,” I explained. And close friends, but I didn’t add that.

  “Oh . . .” He touched the brim of his hat but didn’t continue with whatever it was he wanted to tell me.

  “What is it?” I was growing impatient. I still had a long evening of work ahead of me.

  He took a deep breath and then said, “I just wanted you to know how much it meant to me for you to acknowledge me earlier.”

  Confused, I asked, “Oh?”

  He blushed a little, which surprised me. “When our eyes met, when I was coming out of the house.”

  I nodded, realizing he was talking about that awkward moment earlier.

  “You don’t know how much that means to be acknowledged. Especially for someone like me, who’s gone through so much.”

  “Oh,” I said again, nodding empathetically. He had been through a lot. “Jah,” I said. “I’ve heard about some of your troubles. I’m truly sorry.”

  “Denki,” he said, stepping toward me.

  It was my turn to blush. I had no idea what to say to him. I had no experience with men. My brief courtship with Ben was nothing, really. Awkwardly, I pointed toward the shop. “I need to go tell the others about supper.”

  He nodded. “Perhaps we’ll have a chance to chat sometime.” He touched the brim of his hat again. “To get to know each other better. I’d like that.”

  “Sure . . .” I took a step toward the shop, wondering exactly how I’d looked at him earlier—and what it had meant to him. “See you at supper.”

  “Beatrice . . .”

  I hurried on as if I hadn’t heard. By the time I reached the door, Martin, Mervin, and Phillip were coming out, giggling. When they saw me they all three stopped and then burst out into laughter.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Martin held the door for me.

  “Just a private joke, between the three of us,” Phillip added.

  “Jah.” Mervin sputtered. “Although—”

  Martin threw an elbow into his twin’s side. “What do you need?”

  “Nothing,” I answered, ready to return to the house, not wanting to deal with men, giddy boys, or the opposite gender at all. Although I didn’t feel awkward with the twins and Phillip. Just miffed. “They sent me to call you to supper. But it looks like I don’t need to.”

  But Martin pointed toward the door. “Ben.”

  “What about him?” I answered.

  “He needs to be called to supper.”

  I rolled my eyes. “One of you”—I pointed at Martin—“is quite capable of calling Ben.”

  Martin stepped wider. Mervin and Phillip started toward the house, nearly running.

  “I’m not sure where he is,” Martin said. “But I need to go wash up.” He took off running too.

  “Oh, bother,” I said, stepping into the hallway. “Ben! Supper!” I called out as I headed down the hall. “Ben!”

  I pushed through the door of the shop, expecting him to be using a piece of machinery and unable to hear me. But the shop was dark and silent. Only the scent of sawdust and varnish greeted me.

  I heard a rustling in the back of the room. “Ben?”

  A head popped up from behind a worktable. Then an entire body. “Bea, is that you?”

  I squinted into the dim room. His face had a look of anticipation—and shock. As if he’d just received really good news.

  “Supper’s ready,” I said.

  “Denki for going to the trouble to let me know.” He smiled.

  “It was no trouble,” I answered, even though it was.

  “So you were happy to do it?” He stepped out from behind the table toward me.

  “Happy?” I stepped toward the door. “Indifferent, perhaps.” I turned and pushed open the door, calling over my shoulder. “If you don’t want to eat, that’s fine. If you do, I’ll see you at the house.”

  I marched down the hall. But by the time I reached the exit, Ben was behind me.

  He stepped to my side. “Let
me open the door for you.”

  “I’m perfectly capable,” I said.

  “And I’m perfectly able,” he answered, swinging it open.

  I marched on with him at my heels and then at my side. I gave him a sideways glance. He smiled at me. What was going on? First Don. And now Ben.

  I marched faster, keeping my eyes on the house. For a moment, a crowd of faces filled the kitchen window, but then they all disappeared.

  “Denki again for coming to get me,” Ben said as we reached the door, hustling ahead of me to open it.

  I hurried in, trying to gain distance on him. The only thing worse than a smarty-pants Ben was an attentive one. But why the sudden change? Was he mocking me—again?

  An hour later, after everyone was fed, it was time to feed Kurt and Leah. I headed upstairs with the bottles to help Nan while Hope and Cate started on the dishes, but when I arrived, Nan asked me to get a bottle for Asher too. “I nursed him,” she said, putting the little one on the bed beside her, “but he’s still hungry.”

  I handed Nan the two bottles and then retrieved the other two babies from their bassinets and handed them to her too.

  “I’ll be right back.” I hurried along the landing and then clomped down the stairs. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, Hope said, rather loudly, “Jah, Martin says Ben’s crazy about her.”

  I froze. Who was Ben crazy about?

  “Pete seems to think the same,” Cate said.

  I took a step backward, around the refrigerator.

  Hope said, “Jah . . .” again, drawing it out.

  Flattening up against the wall, I held my breath.

  Cate’s voice grew louder. “Did they want you to tell Bea?”

  Me? My hand flew to my chest. Ben was crazy about me?

  There was another pause. Then Hope said, “Jah . . . they wanted me to, but I convinced them it was a bad idea.”

  “Why?” I whispered and then clamped my hand over my mouth. Had they heard me?

  Hope continued, “I don’t want Ben to be hurt any worse than he already is. She’ll never love anyone—she’s said so herself. Least of all Ben Rupp.”

  My hand fell to my side. What? I mouthed.

  Hope continued, “It’s a pity. She’s so critical . . . and overbearing. And he’s so sweet. Ben could never please her. I’ll tell him not to bother.”