by Kelly Long
“Your concern is admirable,” Jacob bit out, not knowing how to respond to the conviction of the provoking words.
“Somebody’s got to keep up the idea of honor around here.”
Even those who hadn’t been invited showed up to help Lilly the day before the wedding. She was pleasantly surprised at the number of women who gathered to help cook and clean. Lilly’s mamm had tried to join the bustle of activity but had soon wearied. Lilly found her crying in the pantry of the kitchen.
“Mamm, what is it?”
“It’s just—I know I should be helping, should have helped you with your dress and all. But . . . I just feel so bad. I can’t face all those women and their energy.”
Lilly slid her arm around her mother’s thin shoulders. “Mamm, it’s all right. I’m just so glad you’ll be here tomorrow. You don’t have to do anything. Derr Herr has blessed us with many hands to help. Let me take you upstairs and you can have a nice nap. I’ll be up later to try my dress on for you. Come on, we can go up the back stairs so no one will notice.”
She shielded her mother’s face against her shoulder and led her up the steps. Then she tucked her comfortably beneath a mound of quilts and slipped back downstairs.
Ellie Loftus, the bishop’s fraa, met her in the kitchen. “The Lord sees how well you care for your mother, Lilly. He will bless you for it.” Her voice was low. “But I know how hard it is to not have a mother’s help at this time. I want you to know that if you ever need anything—advice, comfort, or just a gut word, that I will be glad to help.”
Lilly smiled. “Danki.”
“Good. Now, we’ve got the creamed celery and the roasting chicken cooking. The rest of the food will be arriving throughout the day. Ruth Loder and Alice Plank have made good headway on cleaning and dusting. You’ll want to do the master bedroom, I’m thinking—Edith said she’d help you.”
Lilly swallowed, not really wanting to dwell on the master bedroom, when the kitchen door opened and Mary and Samuel Wyse bustled inside. Mary caught Lilly’s hand as Samuel stood with his arms full of something large and covered by a patchwork quilt.
“It’s a present, Lilly,” Mary whispered with excitement.
“Ach, danki!”
Lilly gestured to the master bedroom as the place to put it as the other women tossed greetings to the groom’s parents.
Lilly felt a surge of excitement at wondering what gift could be beneath the quilt. They entered the master bedroom where Samuel eased his burden to the floor with a muffled thump. He rose and bent to kiss his wife’s cheek and then Lilly’s in a warm salute that left tears in her eyes. He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Mary Wyse smiled at her. “Samuel and I are both so happy to welcome a daughter to our family. I have to confess, Lilly, that there were a few years that went by when I longed for a little girl, but the Lord saw fit to send me two wild colts instead. So . . .” She knelt down and slipped the quilt off the gift, revealing a beautiful hand-carved trunk. “So, I waited. For my first daughter-in-law—you, Lilly. I’ve been waiting and praying for you for a long time. And for quite a while I’ve been collecting pretty things from here and there, keeping them to give that special woman. You, Lilly.” She tapped the top of the trunk. “Will you open your gift?”
Lilly dropped to her knees, placing a hand on the trunk. “You have no idea how much your words mean to me . . . Mamm.” She ducked her head shyly. “To think that I’ve been cherished in your prayers is plenty of a gift.”
As Lilly lifted the metal latch, the trunk opened to reveal the fresh smell of cedar that wafted from within. Lilly gasped at the beauty of the crocheted tablecloth that lay folded on top. The workmanship reminded her of the delicate intricacy of the summer flower—Queen Anne’s Lace—and she marveled silently at its beauty. Below that, there were doilies and fine linen handkerchiefs, as well as smaller quilts that Lilly knew to be baby quilts. She couldn’t help the blush that stained her cheeks and was grateful for the warm hug her soon-to-be mother-in-law gave her.
“Ach, Lilly, please forgive me for adding those, but I do hope the Lord blesses you with a lap full of kinner.”
Lilly nodded, trying to resist the enticing image of a multitude of small Jacobs running about the place.
She ran a hand over the curved inside of the trunk’s lid and was surprised when her fingers grazed a small notch in the otherwise perfectly smooth surface. Instinctively, she curled her fingertip into the groove and the trunk lid gave way to reveal a hidden hollow carved into the lid.
Lilly smiled at Mary. “Another surprise?”
Mary looked confused, her head tilted to better see.
Lilly eagerly felt inside the space and withdrew a beautifully carved length of wooden links, almost like a very short chain. She pulled the wood toward her and saw the initials AW burned into the curve of one of the links.
“I’m sorry,” Mary Wyse said, her face set into unfamiliar, stern lines. She held her hand out for the item.
Lilly put the carving into her outstretched hand. “A child’s toy?” she asked with pleasure.
“Nee, this is no toy.” Mary covered it with the folds of her apron as Lilly looked on in surprise. “I’m sorry, my dear, but this belongs in the family. I didn’t realize it was there or I would have removed it beforehand. Please forgive me.”
“But there’s nothing to forgive.”
Mary’s face relaxed and Lilly suppressed the curiosity in her that longed to question the wooden chain links. But, if her new mamm wanted her to ignore its existence, then she would. “I love all of these beautiful treasures,” she added quickly, hoping to relieve Mary of any doubts about her sincerity.
A sudden knock on the door broke into their conversation and Edith Miller poked her head round the door. “You ladies done in here? We’ve got some cleaning to do.”
“Jah.” Mary Wyse rose to her feet and Lilly joined her, bending to receive the woman’s warm embrace.
“Danki so much for all of this,” Lilly whispered. “You’ve equipped me with a lifetime of beauty.”
Mary kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome, my daughter,” she said before leaving the room with a smile at Edith.
Edith Miller was the thin, wiry Amish postal woman of Pine Creek, and she had a sharp tongue and a quick wit. Lilly loved talking with her and wasn’t disappointed now when Edith waved some dust rags at her.
“Come on, Lilly, time to clean the most important room in the house.”
Lilly blushed as the other women laughed together, then went to join Edith in the familiarity of what was once her parents’ room.
Lilly paused at the door to thoughtfully survey the place with its well-carved furniture and long windowpanes. She avoided looking at the bed. she’d already gone over her brief conversation with Jacob about sleeping arrangements a hundred times in her mind. He’d come over late one evening and there had been a suppressed energy about him that had made her feel like he’d come with more purpose than just discussing the ongoing wedding plans. He’d circled the kitchen like a caged cat and finally stood still and looked her square in the eye.
“Lilly, I’ve . . . uh . . . been thinking about it some, and I wanted to talk with you about the wedding night. Our wedding night.”
She hadn’t been able to control the blush that stained her cheeks and assumed a practical manner, her best defense in awkward situations.
“Ach, well, go ahead then.” She sank down at the kitchen table and tried to keep her voice casual, despite the growing lump in her throat.
“Right. I’ll go ahead. It’s like this. We talked a bit the night of the engagement about taking time to court, to get to know each other . . .”
“That is correct.” Her stomach flipped in naerfich anticipation of what he was trying to say.
“Well, I just wanted to be clear about all that. I know that things . . . uh, plans have been moving fast and I don’t want you to think that I’ve forgotten. No real wedding night until we’ve .
. . courted.” He appeared relieved that he’d got it out and let one lean hip rest against the counter.
“So who will sleep where? There’s only the one bed.” She couldn’t believe she’d asked that oh-so-practical but oh-so-embarrassing question that set him to pacing once more.
He had a stranglehold on his hat and stopped once more to slap his thigh with the twisted object.
“In the bed. We sleep in the bed. It will be—fine. You’ll see.” He seemed like he was trying to convince himself as much as her, and she’d nodded mutely in return. But now, the reality of cleaning the bedroom brought the whole feeling of discomfort rushing back once more.
“Might as well have another gift now before we tackle this very important room,” Edith said, snapping her from her reverie.
The thin woman handed her a large package wrapped in brown postal paper.
“Ach, Edith . . . what is it?”
“Open it and see!”
Alice entered the room and came up behind Lilly, trying to peer over her shoulder.
Lilly tore the wrapping with trembling fingers. She always loved having gifts to open. When the paper fell to the floor, she gasped with pleasure at the mound of quilt she held.
“It’s wonderful,” Alice said in her ear. “Put it on the bed.”
Lilly settled the mound onto the bed and began to unfold it.
“I know it’s not a wedding quilt, but it’s a Christmas one all right. Me and some of the girls worked on it down at the back room of the post office this past summer. I’ve been praying about who to give it to—and the Lord brought you to mind when I heard about the engagement.”
The three women unfolded the thick spread, heavily quilted with thousands of tiny stitches. In the center was an appliqué angel, blowing his trumpet in proud announcement.
“Edith—it’s so beautiful! Thank you so much!” Lilly’s eyes filled with tears of joy and she moved to embrace Edith’s thin shoulders. Edith patted her hard on the back, then stepped away.
“Ach, come on now, let’s set this room to rights. Alice, would you help? I think the quilt is just the right amount of cheer that’s needed in here.”
Lilly tried to concentrate on the feeling of the even stitching beneath her hand as she helped Edith smooth the beautiful quilt atop the bed. But there was no getting around the swamping sensation of loss that she felt when she realized that she’d probably have no real wedding quilt of her own. Gifts like Edith’s were priceless in thought and beauty, of course, but there could be nothing like sitting with a community of women and making your own stitches on a quilt that was meant to symbolize a generation of time.
Lilly knew what those stitches would have meant to her, a yielding, a pacing of self and energy that would serve as reminders of even temper, conscious decisions, and thoughtful words. To have laid her own hand to fabric that would perhaps see new life brought into the world, nurture the sick, and cover Jacob in his old age would have been something that she would have dearly loved and cherished. But she thought as she smiled at the angel on the quilt, perhaps the Lord would bring forth a different means of comfort besides a quilting, and with that she had to trust and be content.
CHAPTER 19
Lilly rose far before dawn on the day of her wedding. She turned up a lamp and dressed in work clothes, glancing once to the sky-blue wedding dress that lay pressed and perfect over the chest at the end of her bed. She studied it so often as she and Mrs. Stolis had worked on it over the weeks that she felt she knew every line and crease by heart, but there—such thoughts seemed like vanity. Although she did hope that Alice liked her matching dress as Lilly’s sole attendant. Some Amish brides had up to three attendants but both she and Jacob thought it seemed a bit much, so she’d chosen Alice alone. She glanced in the bureau mirror, gave an impatient tug to the bundle of her hair, and set her kapp in proper order.
The wedding service was to begin at nine a.m. and would last a good three to three-and-a-half hours, as was custom. The size of the wedding, its numbers of guests or attendants, did not change the sanctity and process of the ceremony. But there was still a great deal of work to be done before then. Thankfully the neighbors would be arriving soon to help with the food. And, although the bride would normally not be expected to help overly much on her special day, Lilly wanted to spare her mother as much stress as possible and felt no qualms about doing the preparation work.
Lilly slipped from her room and tiptoed down the steps. She knew what she wanted most of all before the day began—a few moments alone to pray with Derr Herr. She pulled on her wraps and a head scarf and eased open the kitchen door to go out onto the porch.
Though it was still dark, the munn’s glow provided enough light for her to see the crystalline branches of the trees. The shapes of the mountains sprawled endlessly, comforting her with their bulk against the still star-strewn sky. She sank down on the snow-dusted cold of the wooden step and bowed her head in her hands to pray.
“Dear Lord, I thank You for the peace and stillness of this morning. I praise You for giving me a husband such as Jacob. Sei so gut, let me know how to be a fraa to him, the kind of person he needs as a helpmeet, as Your word says. Please help me with Mamm—please change my attitude, give me more grace to love her as she is now. Help me to not miss Daed so much. Help Jacob to know how much he means to You . . .”
She lifted her head, blinking back tears as she considered how Derr Herr worked to lay even hidden needs on her heart—like the need Jacob had for love. She realized that she didn’t, in actuality, know all that much about him, only what she saw. But her heart whispered to her that he was lonely, lonely from his feelings of inadequacy over the inability to read, lonely because he was so strong, lonely for Sarah. But nee, not on her wedding day would she consider his feelings for another. Derr Herr was working out something new, and she had to believe that.
She rose with a deep sense of inner peace as she saw Alice coming across the field and the first of the buggies full of helpers coming down the lane and felt her heart beat with excitement as her wedding day began.
Well, you two look like fine dandies,” Samuel Wyse spoke from the kitchen table as Jacob and Seth entered the room in their new black suits, white shirts, and polished black shoes.
“Danki, Daed,” Jacob replied, running a finger between his tight collar and neck. He felt jittery; there was no help for it. And, he felt foolish for last night’s words with Seth; yet his brother teased him with good humor.
“So, this is it—the elusive Jacob Wyse finally meets his destiny.” Seth sat down at the table and swigged from a glass of milk. He waved a hand at their mamm’s admonishments not to get anything on his suit. “Of course, I’d be as naerfich as a colt, if it were me.”
Their daed lifted his mug of coffee to him. “It may well be you soon enough, son.”
“Ach, nee. I, for one, plan to stay one step ahead of the pretty face, the well-turned ankle, and the scheming hearts of mamms everywhere.”
Mary Wyse cuffed him on the head. “Let your brother be. And let him get some food into his stomach at least.”
“Mamm, I don’t mean any harm. I’m just giving Jacob the chance to talk about how he feels. I mean, he could be a tortured soul in disguise.”
“All right, all right. That’s enough,” Jacob muttered, eating his scrambled eggs in three gulps. “Why I ever chose you as my attendant is beyond me.”
Seth smiled and took a bite of toast. “Of course, Lilly may have to take the schoolteacher’s switch after you now and then, but no doubt you’d deserve it.”
“Son,” Samuel Wyse admonished. “Give your brother peace.”
Jacob reached across the table and shook his father’s hand, then smacked his brother in the shoulder. “Let’s go. We’ve got to be there to greet the guests.”
Seth grinned at him conspiratorially as he rubbed at his shoulder. “Watch it big bruder, or I might give you a smack of your own back—wouldn’t want you to be in pain on your wedding n
ight.”
Jacob gave him a warning frown as his mamm came forward to embrace him. “We’ll follow shortly, boys.” Then she sniffed and turned away. Jacob caught her back against him. “Mamm, I love you. Danki for all that you’ve ever done for me.”
Seth hustled him away from their mamm. “Yes, yes . . . lots of love. Why not save some for your bride?”
Lilly tried to relax as Alice ran a brush through her long dark hair and began the intricate process of coiling it into a mass that would stay put. She looked at herself in the small bureau mirror and saw what she was—pale, anxious, and exhilarated. It was combination enough to make her feel vaguely like throwing up. She clutched the embroidered hankie that her mamm had thoughtfully given her just a few moments before; a token of love and times past that meant her mother gave her blessing to the day.
“It’s gut to see your mamm up and dressed for the wedding,” Alice murmured, her mouth lined with hairpins. “How do you feel?”
Like I’m about to jump off a cliff. “Well, there’s no going back now,” she said with a note of cheerful humor.
She saw Alice’s frown in the reflection of the mirror and watched her snatch the pins from her lips. “You can call it off, Lilly. Right now, even. Sure, folks would be put out, but they’d get over it. You don’t have to settle for anyone . . . not even a prize like Jacob.”
Lilly swallowed and wondered where the composure from her early morning prayers had gone. Her composure had vanished, but her confidence had not. “He might consider me second-best, Alice, but I’m not settling with Jacob. It’s what I want. Truly.” I want this . . . I want to be married to Jacob . . . I do.
Alice sighed and resumed pinning. “Then I’m happy for you. I guess there’s no marriage that’s easy right off—though I’m hardly an expert.” She gave her plump hip a rueful pat. “I doubt I’ll ever have to fret about a man’s attentions, no matter how much I’d love to be married.” Lilly met her friend’s eyes in the mirror. “You will know sometime.”
