“Maybe she won’t be so mad by Saturday. You hurt her feelings real bad, Pop.”
Samuel watched his son’s eyebrows jutting inward and his lips scrunching. There was a time when he’d have never allowed David to speak to him in such a manner. But he reckoned he might have made a mistake and it had obviously had great effect on the boy.
“Ya, David. I know.” He shook his head. “Saturday, I will talk to her.”
As Sarah Jane loaded her suitcase into the car, Irma Rose stifled her tears. Jonas had said his good-byes to Sarah Jane upstairs. Irma Rose knew how badly her husband wanted to come downstairs, but he was having one of his bad days. Lillian walked with them to see her mother off, but the child was clearly in another world. Hopefully, she and Samuel would be getting things worked out real soon.
It had been a glorious two days, and Sarah Jane promised to be back for Christmas.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.” She hugged Lillian first and then Irma Rose. “I would have liked to stick around and go to the barn raising tomorrow. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to one.” She looked at Lillian. “I hope that tomorrow you and Samuel will get things worked out. Tell him I’ll look forward to meeting him when I’m here for Christmas.”
“I don’t know if we’ll get things worked out or not, Mom.”
Irma Rose sure hoped so. Lillian had been a miserable soul the past few days.
“Nothing like the festivities of a good barn raising to set everyone’s sights in order,” Irma Rose said.
As Sarah Jane gave her a final hug, Irma Rose wished the embrace could last forever. Her daughter’s return was a dream come true and a prayer answered. So many issues put to rest. Now it was time to move forward with refreshed spirit and joy. The Lord’s blessings were with them.
“I love you, Mamm,” Sarah Jane whispered in her ear. “I never stopped loving you.”
Irma Rose couldn’t control her cries of happiness. “Oh, my blessed daughter,” she began, “you were our gift from the Good Lord, and you still are. I love you so very much.”
As her granddaughter stood watching, Irma Rose struggled to pry herself away from Sarah Jane. It had been so long—and two days just wasn’t enough. She would count the days until Christmas when they’d all be together again.
Samuel woke up Saturday with high hopes he would get things fixed with Lillian. It had been a terrible six days since he had seen her. He should’ve explained his feelings about the situation and not reacted the way he did. She had come a long way since she arrived in Lancaster County, and he should have kept the faith she would never do anything to soil David’s upbringing.
“Guder mariye, Pop,” David said, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning to you. I made us some red-beet eggs this morning. We’ll need all our energy to help with the barn raising.” He shoveled some eggs alongside a piece of toast for his son.
“We’ll see Lillian today too.”
“Ya, we will.” And Samuel couldn’t wait. He was going to make things right.
“I sure hope things go back to the way they were before you—” The boy clamped his mouth shut, seeming to force back comments that might get him in a heap of trouble.
“I’m sure everything will be wunderbaar gut. It’ll be a grand day,” Samuel said, taking a seat beside his son. “Now, eat your eggs. We need to be there at daybreak and that’s sneaking up on us.”
There were over fifty buggies parked up near the Zook farm when Samuel and David arrived. John Lapp, an Amish carpenter by profession, was already lining the men out and assigning areas of work. No time to waste. They would need to complete the framing by the noon meal, giving time to eat, and then they’d put on the roof in the afternoon. As long as that much got done, the closing in could be handled by family and friends the following day, if need be.
The last of the buggies pulled in. Samuel reckoned there were over a hundred and fifty people in attendance. The women were gathering in the kitchen to prepare the meal, and the smaller children were scurrying around and playing games. Without a cloud in the sky, it was a fine day for a barn raising. Although it neared the end of August, the summer heat was still upon them. Yes, it was warm. But a slow breeze eased the effects of the sun’s brilliant rays.
Samuel watched his son accepting an assignment from John Lapp, then turned and scanned the work area. There was no sign of Lillian. A few of the women were scattered about, but most of them were inside busy with meal preparations. She would have to come outside sooner or later. He hoped it was sooner so he would have a chance to talk to her, explain his harsh reaction.
The men and older boys had been at work about two hours when the first offering of iced tea was made. Several of the womenfolk began walking around handing glasses to the workers.
Samuel was ready for a cold glass of tea. More than that, he was ready to see Lillian. He was surprised he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her yet. Surely she wouldn’t forego the barn raising because of him.
“Why, Samuel, what in the world are you doing here?” Ellen Zook asked, handing him a glass of tea.
Sending her a questioning look, he asked, “Why wouldn’t I be here? You know I wouldn’t miss a barn raising. I’m mighty pleased to help.”
Ellen looked confused. “Well, I guess I was figuring you to be at the Miller place this morning.” She paused. “I mean I think the whole district knows you spend a lot of time out there with Irma Rose, Jonas—and their kinskind. Word is that you and Lillian might have taken a fancy to each other.”
“Isn’t Lillian here? I thought she’d be inside helping with the meal?” Maybe she’d decided not to come.
“Uh, Samuel,” Ellen began, “I just assumed someone had gotten word to you.”
“Word about what?” He didn’t like her tone. “Word about what?” he asked again.
“Why, Samuel, I’m sorry to say . . . Irma Rose passed this morning. I just figured you’d be with the family. They said she just went in her sleep and—”
He didn’t hear another word she said, as his legs mechanically carried him to the buggy. He yelled at Katie Ann to keep an eye on David while he quickly maneuvered the buggy onto the road. “Let’s go, Pete!” he yelled, jolting the horse into a full run.
He and Lillian had talked about death on more than one occasion. One thing Samuel knew for sure: nothing scared her more than death. And as much as Lillian had grown to love Irma Rose and Jonas, he knew she must be over the edge with grief.
“Come on, boy!” he yelled, picking up even more speed.
Lillian was anxious to see Samuel at the barn raising. From the moment she opened her eyes Saturday morning, it was all she could think about. Despite the fact he hadn’t come around, maybe, just maybe, he’d had time to reflect on his decision and had a change of heart. Maybe he missed her and realized she’d never, ever do anything to hurt David. She couldn’t rewrite her past. Besides, she had changed so much. Didn’t that matter?
“You’re up earlier than usual,” Grandpa commented when she served him some scrapple alongside his eggs. She wrinkled her nose. She had never acquired a taste for this popular Amish meal. She didn’t want to eat anything made up of leftover parts of a hog. She was floored the first time she saw Grandma putting parts of hog heads, hearts, liver, and other scraps in the mushy mix of cornmeal and flour. But Grandpa loved it, so she cooked it for him on occasion.
“The barn raising is today,” she said. “From what I understand, it all gets started at daybreak. So I don’t want to be late. You’re the one who’s up early.” She smiled.
“Food,” he said. “The smell of food gets me movin’ in the morning. Your Grandma, on the other hand, is out like a light.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better this morning.” She knew the past two days had exhausted him both physically and mentally. In addition to the heart-wrenching conversations, they’d all stayed up much later than usual while her mother was there. Both her grand
parents had looked worn-out the night before.
“Maybe you better go give your mammi a nudge. You know how much she likes scrapple, and she’ll be all upset if she has to eat it cold.” He dove into the soupy mush. “Um, um . . . mighty gut,” he said.
Thinking how Grandma liked to get her day off to an early start, Lillian headed up the stairs. She knocked on the door twice, but there was no answer. “Grandma?”
Knocking again, she yelled a little louder, “Grandma, I made scrapple. Come get it while it’s hot.”
Nothing.
She walked down the upstairs hall to the small bathroom. Gently she pushed the door open. “Grandma?” The door swung wide, but no Grandma.
She headed back toward her grandparents’ room, pondering whether or not Grandma would have gone outside. No, there wouldn’t be any reason to.
An unfamiliar tingling rushed from her head to her toes, causing her to feel light-headed as she turned the doorknob. Something wasn’t right. Her heart rate increased, and she was suddenly afraid to enter the room. And yet, unable to turn back, she pushed the door open.
Well, thank the Lord. Grandma was curled up in bed asleep, facing the other way. She hadn’t gone missing and wasn’t lying in a pool of blood from a bad fall or anything.
“Grandma, wake up. You scared me.” She walked toward the bed. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I made scrapple—that nasty mush you and Grandpa like.”
As she neared the edge of the bed, the tingling rush shot through her veins again. She stopped. “Grandma?” she said softly. Her feet were rooted to the floor, and she couldn’t move. Grandma snored. She always snored. Why was there no snoring?
“Grandma!” Still unable to move, she yelled again, “Grandma, wake up!”
She could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Oh God, no. Please, no. She forced her feet to move and sat down on the edge of the bed. As she reached over and touched her grandma’s arm, she knew instantly—Grandma was dead. Her cold, lifeless body was curled into a ball.
Lillian knew Grandpa would be in the room within seconds. Maybe she was wrong. She ran to the other side of the bed so she could see her grandmother’s face. The older woman’s eyes were closed; she looked peaceful. But clearly she wasn’t breathing.
“Grandma.” She pushed her gently. Nothing.
“What are ya hollering about up here, Lilly?”
She turned around to see Grandpa standing in the doorway. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Grandpa . . .”
He stood frozen in place. “No, Lilly. She’s just sleeping. I’m going first. I got the cancer.” Staring at her with a blank look, he asked, “Did you tell her you made scrapple? That’ll get her moving.”
“Grandpa,” she said again, trying to control herself—for once. The man nearing the bed had been married to this woman for almost fifty years. She couldn’t even imagine how he must feel. Her own heart was breaking.
His feet edged slowly toward the other side of the bed. “Irma Rose, get on up out of that bed and get you some scrapple.”
Lillian couldn’t hold it anymore. Crying softly, she attempted to swipe away the tears trailing down her cheeks, in an unsuccessful effort to stay strong for Grandpa. She stood up from the bed and walked to the window to make more room for Grandpa. As she gazed out the window, she heard his sobs from behind her.
“Oh, Irma Rose, not now. It’s not time. Sarah Jane will be back for Christmas.”
Lillian turned around to see her grandpa lifting the love of his life, limp and lifeless, into his arms. How could this have happened? She wasn’t even sick. Grandpa was the one who was sick. Grandpa was the one she’d prayed for, every night, to get well. And he was so much better. Had this happened because she didn’t pray enough for Grandma?
She began to go over her nightly prayers, reciting them in her head. Maybe she had given Grandpa more prayer time. But it was because he was sick. This was unfair of God. Had she known her grandma was at risk, she would have prayed harder for her.
First Samuel. Now this. God wasn’t listening to her. Otherwise he would have never let this happen.
It was even more heartbreaking to watch Grandpa swaying back and forth, cradling Grandma in his arms.
“Oh, my Irma Rose, my darling beloved,” he wept. “Don’t leave me on this earth without you. Wake up, Irma Rose.”
While her own heart ripped in two, she knew she would need to produce all her strength to see her grandpa through this. She walked to the bed and sat down beside him.
“Grandpa, I think we need to send for someone,” she suggested. Tenderly, she stroked his arm.
“Call the Good Lord and tell him to send her back to me, Lilly. Get your cell phone and call heaven. Tell God to send her back to me for a bit longer.”
“Grandpa, it was just her time. She’s with God now.” She wasn’t sure where the words were coming from because it wasn’t Grandma’s time.
“Ach, no . . . Oh, no.” He cried harder, and Lillian didn’t think she’d ever seen a more frail creature. Like a lost child, he wept.
“Let her lie in peace,” she said softly. “Come on, Grandpa.” She tried to pull him away, but he clung tightly. “Grandpa, we are going to have to go into town and let someone know. I think there are, uh, things that we have to do.”
She had no idea what they needed to do, and she had no idea where her strength was coming from. Perhaps it was knowing Grandpa’s pain was far worse than her own. Seeing him like this was almost as heartbreaking as losing Grandma. She took a deep breath and tried as best she could to gather herself. She hated to leave him alone. Why hadn’t she held onto that cell phone? Why hadn’t she prayed harder? Why did this have to happen?
She started to cry again.
“Lilly, travel to town to the funeral home. They’ll tell you our ways. I want to be alone with my Irma Rose,” Grandpa said as he gently laid her back down.
“Okay, Grandpa.” She gazed upon the woman who had taught her so much, whom she had grown to love over the past months. Nothing would ever be the same.
Forcing herself to stand up and do as Grandpa asked, she turned to face him when she reached the bedroom door. Still cradling his beloved wife in his arms, his body trembled with grief. He’d cried out to Lillian to do something, to reverse the situation, to beg God for more time. She realized even a man with Grandpa’s faith couldn’t accept such a loss as merely God’s will. It didn’t make him any less faithful to God, only human.
As Samuel pulled up at the Miller farm, his heart was heavy. The timing of all this was terrible. And Irma Rose? It was shocking. He’d reckoned Jonas would go way before his wife.
He shook his head as he parked the buggy and walked toward the front door. Lillian was going to be a wreck. The girl was as emotional a person as he’d ever known, and he knew she would be falling apart. She should have come to him this morning. He should have been the one to help her with things, to comfort her.
Yet . . . he reckoned if the situation were reversed, he wouldn’t have searched her out either. He’d said some pretty strong things to her.
“Hello, Samuel,” Lillian said as she opened the screen door and motioned him to come inside. “It’s very nice of you to come.” Her tone was unusually curt.
“Lillian, you should have sought me out this morning when this happened. I’m so sorry, Lillian.” He hugged her—a hug she did not return.
“Grandpa’s in the den if you’d like to visit with him. The funeral home has already been here to pick up Grandma. They will be bringing her back on Monday. The funeral will be here on Tuesday. Mr. Jackson said they are familiar with Amish customs and will make sure everything is done accordingly.”
She rattled on like a robot, with hardly a hint of expression on her face. But he knew better. Her red, swollen eyes told the tale.
“Lillian,” he said softly, reaching for her. “You don’t have to be strong for my benefit.”
“I’m fine,” she said, turning toward the den.
“Grandpa,
Samuel is here to pay his respects.” She sat down in a chair near her grandpa, and she wouldn’t even look at Samuel.
He extended his hand to Jonas, who clasped it with both of his hands. “Thank you for coming, Samuel. The Englisch doctor said he thinks Irma Rose’s heart just plumb gave out.” He squeezed Samuel’s hand before letting it go. Hanging his head, he said, “Probably my fault. She’d been working too hard to take care of me. But I reckon it was God’s will. I sure will miss my Irma Rose.”
Jonas didn’t seem to notice, but Samuel caught on to Lillian’s attitude right quick at the mention of God’s will.
“It’s nobody’s fault, Jonas. Don’t do that to yourself,” Samuel said. He glanced at Lillian, trying to make some sort of connection, only to find her keeping a solemn look on her face. She wouldn’t even look his way. “I reckon we don’t always understand why things happen the way they do.”
Jonas shoulders began to heave up and down, and Samuel could see he was trying to hold back tears. “Sarah Jane was here, Samuel. Irma Rose only had two days with her. She just left last night. She was comin’ back for Christmas.”
Samuel sat down in a chair on the other side of Jonas, which put him face-to-face with Lillian. “I’m so sorry, Jonas.” He reached over and put his hand on his shoulder. “Do you want me to arrange for the coffin carriers?”
“That’d be mighty fine if you’d do that.”
“And I’m sure Katie Ann and my sisters will pitch in with the meal, along with a lot of other folks ’round here.”
Lillian still wouldn’t look his way. “All that’s not necessary,” she said in an almost hateful tone. “I can arrange the food, and I can—”
“Lillian, let Samuel handle those things,” Jonas said.
“Grandpa, we don’t need Samuel to handle those things. I can do it,” she insisted. She was dead set on hurting him. That was clear. She didn’t want him involved in anything to do with her or her family.
Plain Perfect & Quaker Summer 2 in 1 Page 21
