Phoebe's Gift

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “I’m fine,” Ruth assured her.

  “Then I’ll be going.”

  Ruth stopped her. “My brother loves you, Phoebe. You know that, don’t you? For that reason alone, I’m glad Ethan didn’t show on Friday.”

  “Don’t say that,” Phoebe chided. “I wish you no pain.”

  “You are a kind soul.”

  “You’ll have me crying soon,” Phoebe warned.

  A hint of a smile played on Ruth’s face. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe you can help me with some of the schoolwork.” Ruth pointed to a stack of papers and a teacher’s manual. “Can you check the third-grade spelling papers? That would help a lot, and I wouldn’t have an excuse to show up late at your Aunt Millie’s.”

  “I’ll do that gladly,” Phoebe assured her. She grabbed a red pen before seating herself in one of the smaller chairs.

  Silence settled in, broken only by the scrape of chair legs on the hardwood floor and the faint rustle of pen on paper.

  “How are they doing?” Ruth finally asked.

  “Mostly 80s and a few 90s,” Phoebe replied.

  “Anything worse?”

  Phoebe made a face. “Just one. A 60. The last of the Yoder girls, Darlene.”

  Ruth’s face flared. “I’ve told that girl many times that she has to study, but what does she do? Stares out the window and throws winks at the boys.”

  “I suppose some children have that attitude,” Phoebe allowed.

  “The Yoders!” Ruth fumed. “I wasn’t going to say this, but I had to hide behind the phone booth on Friday night after I tried to call Ethan, and young John surprised me. You should have heard him carrying on with some Englisha girl on the phone. The boy’s not even on his rumspringa yet.”

  Phoebe’s face paled. “I had feared some such thing after Eugene’s capers. They are close, those two. What is going to happen to our young people, Ruth?”

  Ruth glared, but she appeared to stifle her bitter words. “I guess I shouldn’t be angry. I should be as concerned as you are, Phoebe. You shame me.”

  Phoebe winced. “I am concerned, but you have suffered more from the community’s hands than I have.”

  “You need to stop saying kind things to me.” Ruth lowered her head over her papers and fell silent.

  Phoebe waited a few moments before she continued her work. There were no more grades lower than an 85, and she finished the stack and carried it to Ruth’s desk. “Anything else?”

  Ruth forced a smile and shook her head. “You have done enough. Thank you.”

  “Shall we pick you up tonight?” Phoebe offered.

  Ruth chuckled. “With what? The surrey? Your single buggy will be full with David, Wesley, and yourself.”

  “That is true, but there’s always room for one more.” Phoebe attempted a laugh. “Or David can pick you up, and I’ll drive myself.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Ruth retorted. “David would never let me hear the end of it if I deprived him of a buggy ride with you. Has he asked for a formal date yet?”

  Phoebe reddened. “No, but we see each other almost every day of the week.”

  Ruth reached up to squeeze Phoebe’s arm. “I know I’m short tempered and bitter about things, but I want to say that I fully approve. David deserves a wunderbah woman like you to return his love. The man has a heart the size of an ocean. You’ll never regret opening your life to him, Phoebe.”

  “Now you do have me crying.” Phoebe leaned over to give Ruth a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said. She hurried out of the schoolhouse before more tears appeared. That she had not expected from Ruth.

  “See you!” Ruth’s parting words lingered in the air.

  Phoebe waved through the large window and continued across the schoolyard. Young John had his team working busily in the back field, and he gestured heartily as she passed.

  A chill crept over her. Why would John already be calling an Englisha girl and likely meeting with her in secret? Wasn’t a proper rumspringa observed among the young people anymore? But on the other hand, she had covered up Ruth’s transgressions, and Ruth still wasn’t in the clear from the sound of things. What if Ethan changed his mind and made contact with her? Even so, Phoebe shouldn’t feel above anyone else. Eugene, Ruth, and John needed her prayers, not her condemnation.

  Phoebe breathed a quick prayer and turned north again at the junction. “Help us all, dear Lord.” David was still in the field with Wesley when she arrived back at the farm. He had seen her approach and waved a greeting. Phoebe crossed the barnyard instead of heading to the house and leaned against the wooden fence to watch Wesley ride Snow Cloud. The all-white pony’s mane streamed out behind them as the two trotted across the field.

  “He’s doing quite well,” David said, walking up to her.

  “You are a goot teacher.” She gave him a warm smile.

  He sobered. “If only I could do something about his speech. Isn’t there something that can be done? The poor boy tries, but nothing comes out at times.”

  “There has to be something,” Phoebe mused. “Our people usually let such things work themselves out, but I don’t think this one will.”

  David nodded. “How was your talk with Ruth?”

  “She wasn’t telling you everything,” Phoebe told him. She ran over the basics of her conversation with his sister.

  “So the storm clouds still hang on the horizon.”

  “That was my feeling.”

  “I don’t want to lose you, Phoebe.” His voice broke.

  “You won’t, David,” she assured him. She reached for his hand. “Things will look better after tonight. Ruth is also coming. I invited her.”

  “You did?” David appeared pleased. “That was thoughtful of you.”

  “That’s what I am—thoughtful,” Phoebe laughed.

  He grinned. “That you are, and that’s why I love you.” He sobered, watching the pony trot by. “That, and a thousand other reasons.”

  “It looks as if I’d best get myself in the house,” Phoebe warned. “You’re saying too much, and it’s time to get ready to leave for Aunt Millie’s. I called and let Mrs. Broman’s office know.”

  “You just want to get away from me,” he teased.

  “I do not, but…”

  “See?”

  She raced for the house before his hand could catch hers. They behaved worse than teenagers in love. She was sure he would have kissed her right there in the open if she hadn’t fled. She would have allowed the endearment if she had waited a moment longer. But she did love the man, and his care of Wesley warmed her heart. David would be wunderbah with kinner of his own—with their kinner. Her face flamed at the thought. They were nowhere near thinking about marriage yet. The Lord would lead in His time. Their love was young and should not be rushed. With the Lord’s blessing, they would have years ahead of them in which to live and grow old together.

  Phoebe entered the house and slipped into her room to change into a clean dress. With her hair freshly combed, she refastened her kapp and tucked loose strands of hair underneath. David was in front of the barn with Misty in the shafts of the buggy when she came back outside. Phoebe hurried up and fastened the last tug on her side.

  “Did you like the pony ride?” She smiled up at Wesley, who had perched himself on the buggy seat.

  “It-it was lots and lots and lots of-f-fun.” His face glowed.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Phoebe told him. “Has David told you where we are going?”

  He nodded but fell silent. Still, this was progress from the silent boy of this morning.

  “Ready to go?” David chirped in her ear.

  She kissed him on the cheek before she hopped into the buggy, and Wesley’s grin nearly split his face.

  “I like him,” she whispered, and Wesley laughed. “See, he approves,” Phoebe told David when he climbed in.

  David’s smile was the only answer she needed. Together, they trotted out the driveway with Wesley between them on the b
uggy seat.

  THIRTY-THREE

  The supper table was spread from one end of Aunt Millie’s dining room to the other. Only a small space remained behind the chairs on either side so the women could serve the food. Phoebe held a large bowl of steaming mashed potatoes aloft as she maneuvered in from the kitchen.

  “Over here!” Uncle Noah hollered out. “We’re empty.”

  Phoebe turned in his direction and deposited the bowl in front of him. “Don’t eat it all yourself,” she teased.

  He chuckled and slapped his stomach. “Do I look like I’d do such a thing?”

  “You are quite handsome even with a rolling middle,” his frau Hettie spoke up from beside him.

  Phoebe joined in their laughter. Uncle Noah had no rolling middle. He kept himself in shape from his hours of hard work on the farm. That’s why teasing was such fun, especially tonight, when there was such a sense of relief in the air. She hadn’t heard the details, but Eugene had been given a suspended sentence this morning, along with a stiff warning from the judge. Much worse could have happened. Their neighbor must have put in a goot word after Uncle Homer had paid for the damages to the stolen pickup. No doubt, all those things had been taken into consideration by the judge, coupled with Eugene’s sincere apology. The lad was seated across the table at the moment. His head was bowed, and Eugene showed no inclination to join in the merriment—which was how things should be. A proper display of repentance for such a public embarrassment of his family was in order. They would all love and forgive him, and life would go on with its lessons learned.

  Ruth deserved the same treatment, which was why she was here at Phoebe’s invitation. Ruth was a little nervous being seated beside Uncle Homer’s frau, Mary, but Ruth would relax as the evening progressed. This had been the right decision, as was Aunt Millie’s surprise supper.

  “Woo-hoo!” Aunt Millie waved her hand in Phoebe’s face. “The next bowl of gravy’s ready. Wake up!”

  Phoebe pretended to jerk her eyes open.

  “So what were you dreaming about?” Aunt Millie asked. “Is Cousin Herman making eyes at you?”

  Phoebe awoke for real. “Is he here?”

  “Then you didn’t notice.” Aunt Millie’s face fell. “He’s sitting right across from you when you walk up to the table.”

  “I thought he was leaving Sunday for the trip back to Lancaster.”

  “He stayed over, so I invited him for supper.” Aunt Millie batted her eyes. “That must mean he has an interest somewhere…” Aunt Millie let the sentence hang, full of implications. “He’s only your cousin by marriage, remember.”

  “My heart is set on David,” Phoebe whispered back. “You’ll have to accept that. So no matchmaking.”

  “I was just hoping…” Aunt Millie made a face. She handed Phoebe the gravy pot. “But David’s a decent man too.”

  “Yah, he is,” Phoebe retorted. “Thank you for saying so.”

  Aunt Millie sighed. “Go now. I give up. They’re waiting for you, and don’t drop off into your dream world.”

  Phoebe took a firm grip on the gravy pot but didn’t move. “Thanks also for letting me invite Ruth tonight. Things are going on in her life that most people don’t know about, but it’s goot that we are kind to her.”

  “I suppose so,” Aunt Millie allowed. “Kindness and understanding are always goot.”

  “Eugene is getting plenty of our forgiveness,” Phoebe told her. “We should extend that to Ruth too.”

  Aunt Millie tilted her head. “What is she doing?”

  “She’s troubled with her schoolteaching job and its newness,” Phoebe managed. “There are lots of adjustments.” She knew this was half of the truth.

  Aunt Millie’s face softened. “We should be praying for her, yah. But you know a schoolteacher is always welcome at my table.”

  Phoebe bit off a retort and made her way back to the table. She had said enough for the moment. Ruth was being accepted for now, and that was all she could ask. Not everyone had Grandma’s ability to see the hearts of people.

  Phoebe entered the dining room with the bowl of gravy held firmly in her hands, the steam rising halfway to the ceiling.

  “There she is!” Uncle Noah hollered. “Over here again!”

  She headed that way and set the bowl with its heating pad on the wooden tabletop. Uncle Noah bent low to take a long breath. “Wunderbah. It’s like I’m at home.”

  Laughter rippled, and Uncle Noah dipped out a large spoonful of gravy. Phoebe slipped halfway around the table to where Wesley was seated beside David. “How are you doing?” she whispered in his ear.

  He gave her a smile but didn’t say anything.

  “Is the food goot?”

  He nodded.

  “You can go out to play with the other children after supper,” she informed him. “The games will probably be strange to you, but they’ll explain if you ask.”

  Wesley’s face was troubled.

  “I’ll ask one of them to tell you the rules,” she told him, and he brightened considerably. She patted him on the back, and with a smile for David, she moved on.

  Cousin Herman stopped her. “Hi, Phoebe. Are you ignoring me?”

  “No.” She turned toward him. “Just busy.”

  “I see. Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “Pretty soon. We’re swapping off with two of the other aunts for dessert.”

  “I have an empty chair beside me,” he said with a grin. “You’re welcome.”

  “I might just take it,” she replied. She hurried on.

  In the kitchen, Aunt Millie’s eyes had grown big. “What did I just see? And at my dining room table?”

  “You didn’t see anything,” Phoebe assured her. “He wouldn’t court me in public.”

  Aunt Millie’s face fell. “I suppose not. Herman flirts with everyone.”

  Phoebe paused, searching her memory.

  “What is it?” Aunt Millie asked.

  Phoebe shook her head and grabbed the pan of fried green beans. She was not about to say what she was sure she had seen. Ruth’s face had been tinged with a blush of red, and Ruth sat one chair down from Cousin Herman. Had the two been talking? Cousin Herman would chat with any woman within earshot, which was why he had invited Phoebe to sit beside him. But did Ruth know this? Would Ruth’s wounded heart misinterpret the attention Cousin Herman had doubtlessly shown her? Cousin Herman was a single man who had never found quite what he searched for in a frau. Did Ruth interest him? Or did he simply know Ruth as the community’s schoolteacher? All they needed to completely alienate Ruth’s heart from the community was for Cousin Herman to reject her once he discovered the whole truth. Phoebe hoped Ruth was simply flustered with the newness of being a welcome guest at Aunt Millie’s dining room table.

  Help us, dear Lord, Phoebe silently prayed.

  She delivered the fried green beans and stepped back to sneak a glance at Ruth. She had her head down, but her face flamed. Cousin Herman was laughing and was turned in her direction. Clearly something was going on, but no one else seemed to notice. But why would they? Cousin Herman chatting with women was not an unusual occurrence. The man was well traveled and well versed in the ways of the Englisha world.

  Aunt Millie tapped Phoebe on the shoulder. “Time to sit down and eat. Hettie and Mary will take care of the desserts in a moment.”

  “Glasses are empty,” Uncle Noah hollered.

  Aunt Millie smiled at him and whispered to Phoebe. “I’ll get that. Start eating.”

  She did, taking the seat beside Cousin Herman.

  “Here we are, with the local beauty at my right hand.” Cousin Herman grinned. “I was beginning to think I was being jilted.”

  “You’ll be gone tomorrow, and my heart will be broken and shattered,” Phoebe quipped.

  He threw his head back and roared with laughter. “This supper is doing my heart a lot of goot. I’m thankful I stayed another day or two, and that Millie asked me over.”

  “It wa
s sort of a cobbled-together affair,” Phoebe assured him.

  Cousin Herman passed her the bowl of mashed potatoes. “I hope they’re not cold.”

  Phoebe dipped out a spoonful. “I’m sure they’ll be okay.”

  “And the gravy.”

  “Are you always this solicitous?” she teased.

  “You don’t know what you’ve been missing.”

  Thankfully, Ruth joined in the laughter. Perhaps Ruth would gain the full measure of the man by their light banter and know that Cousin Herman meant nothing by his attentions.

  “So I hear you have quite the decent venture at Grandma Lapp’s farm—after my ample part in it, of course.” He gave himself a quick pat on the back.

  “Cousin Herman,” Phoebe chided. “One must always be humble.”

  He grinned and then tilted his head toward Wesley. “He’s a nice-looking young man. A little shy, though. I couldn’t get a word out of him so far.”

  Phoebe lowered her voice. “He stutters. Badly.”

  “Oh, my.” Cousin Herman wrinkled his face in concern.

  “Do you know of any solutions other than hoping he grows out of it?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. Children normally do grow out of such things, but some of them don’t. Come to think of it, there’s a new program in Lancaster.” Cousin Herman gestured in a southerly direction. “Sort of under the radar among our people. They help the children to talk real slow, drawing out the words until they can get through the sounds. The logic is that stuttering people never have trouble singing, so it’s a copy on that. Not that you can speak that way—real slow, but the method builds confidence and allows the child to know that there is a way around the block they feel in their mouths.”

  “That’s interesting.” Phoebe took a piece of bread and spread on the butter. “I only have a week, but anything would help. Maybe I’ll try that.”

  “You’re goot with him,” Cousin Herman observed. “Wesley likes you and that young man beside him.” His head tilted again.

  “David Fisher,” Phoebe informed him. Cousin Herman didn’t react negatively, so she added, “And this is David’s sister, Ruth, our schoolteacher you’ve been talking to.”