by Amy Lillard
Jacob held up one finger as if to warn her that his next words held great meaning. “I don’t like having the neighbors angry because your goats got out. If they get out again, we just may have to get rid of them.”
“You can’t do that.”
Jacob gave a quick nod. “Oh, jah. I can.” He turned and headed back up the stairs.
Tess watched him disappear, wanting to ask him why he picked now to tell her. But she knew. He had been too involved with his cell phone to remember it until now. And as far as she was concerned, that was a much bigger problem than her goats eating Mr. Bennett’s squash.
* * *
“Tess, why aren’t you ready to go?”
She looked up from the catalog she had been reading. She had wanted to check and see if perhaps she could find Mr. Bennett some late-blooming squash plants in the seed catalog, but so far she hadn’t found any she thought would suffice. “Go where?”
“To my parents’ house.” His tone clearly stated that she should have remembered this. But Tess had no idea what he was talking about.
“I didn’t know we were going to your parents’ house today.”
Jacob shook his head as if she were more than he could handle sometimes. “You did. I told you yesterday that we were going to my parents’ house.”
“You did not. You told me we weren’t going to my parents’ house.” His parents had never been mentioned at all.
“I’m sure I told you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“Don’t be difficult, Tess. And go change your apron.”
Something in his tone didn’t set well with her. Or maybe it was the fact that after he delivered his command, he reached into his pocket and pulled out that infernal cell phone and glanced at the tiny little screen. He smiled a little to himself, hit something on the sreen, and re-pocketed it.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to use that on Sunday.”
Jacob shrugged as if it was no big deal. “It was a text from work.”
He said that, but she found herself doubting his words. She didn’t know who was contacting him through that tiny little phone, and it wasn’t like a phone shanty or a phone in the barn attached to an answering machine that recorded everybody’s call. She felt strangely left out of a part of Jacob’s life that she had never considered before. When a couple worked at home and farmed the land, they were always near to one another. But Jacob left for work every day. He drove the tractor into town, parked it in the empty lot across from the post office, and waited for his English boss to come by in his truck and get him. Tess knew that several Amish men worked for the same company, but she didn’t know if they all had cell phones. And she didn’t know if they got text messages all the time, even on Sunday. She wondered if any of their wives hated the fact that their husbands had Facebook pages. Didn’t that depend on knowing a bunch of other people on Facebook? Who would he know on Facebook? Maybe just the men he worked with. But didn’t he get enough of them during the week? The whole thing was completely confusing to her. She didn’t know how it worked and had never wanted to know how it worked. Until now, when it was directly affecting her relationship with her husband.
“I don’t know why I have to change my apron.” It was the closest to rebellion she had ever come.
Jacob seemed to hold his breath as he stared at her. “What’s gotten into you, Tess?”
“Nothing. What’s gotten into you, Jacob?”
He studied her intently. And suddenly she felt as if she was having an argument with a stranger. Oh, he looked the same as Jacob Smiley always did, thick chestnut hair and full beard, also rusty in color. He had the same beautiful eyes and strong build. He looked exactly like the man she had married. But somehow he felt like a stranger.
She stared back at him, but there were no answers in his expression, only a stiff jaw as he waited for her to comply. She wanted to tell him no, tell him that she wasn’t going to his parents’ house if they couldn’t go to her parents’ house. She missed them terribly. And it seemed as if Jacob found plenty of time to go visit his family while she never saw hers anymore. She couldn’t say that it had been the easiest thing to move from Clarita over to Wells Landing, but she had been hopeful for new opportunities. Jacob had followed his father and stepmother to this larger community hoping that they both would find new and better, maybe even exciting opportunities there. But so far all she had found was mild heartache and a stranger in her house.
“I guess you can stay here if you want.”
Tess was spurred into action, though as she made her way upstairs to change her apron and make sure she looked presentable for a Sunday afternoon visit, she had to wonder which was worse, visiting with his mamm and dat or being at home by herself.
* * *
Jacob stole a quick glance at his wife as they ambled along. Sundays were all about taking it a bit slower, so while most of the good citizens of Wells Landing drove tractors during the week, come Sunday everybody got out their horse and buggy and traveled at a slower pace. Part of him enjoyed the slower step of the horses and another part of him wished they could speed along in the tractor, maybe even a car. It would sure get them there a lot quicker. He knew that most believed it was the journey that was the most important thing, but sometimes he disagreed and thought that the most important thing was the visit. Getting there quicker would mean more time to visit.
Of course now would be a good time to try and talk with his wife, see what was bugging her. She hadn’t been the same lately, and he didn’t know what was going on. He hadn’t changed. But he conceded that Tess had. She walked around with an expectant air, as if any minute something big was about to happen and she didn’t want to miss it. But there wasn’t anything big. The next big thing for them, unless the Lord saw fit to bless them with a child sooner rather than later, was for them to buy a piece of land, a farm, and work the land. He had hoped they would already have that checked off and be working toward the next item on their goal list, but it seemed that wasn’t in God’s plan for them. And with all the hours he’d been taking on at the roofing company, it had become harder and harder to look for those plots of land and other opportunities for farming. Why, just last week he had heard of a farm that was quite possibly well within their budget, but he had only heard about the land after it had been sold. Why hadn’t he heard about it before? He could only assume that God had other plans for them, but he was starting to get a little impatient. He was ready to go back to working the land, farming, growing crops, getting back to a simpler life. At least a simpler one than what he had now.
When they had moved to Wells Landing, there hadn’t been a great many opportunities available. And he had jumped on the chance to build roofs. It was good money in Oklahoma with all the winds and storms. Hail damaged any roof it came in contact with. So he couldn’t say the money wasn’t good. But the hours were terrible and the work was very hard. Not as satisfying as farming, for certain. The harsh summer temperatures drained him both physically and mentally. He wasn’t the boss by any means, but he was a supervisor on the job site, overseeing four to six men as they worked diligently to tear off the old roof and put another one on as quickly as possible. The worst part of all was that the more roofs they put on, the more money they would make, so the more roofs the company wanted them to put on. He felt as if he worked night and day, well before sunup to well past sundown. It was a never-ending work cycle: get up, roof, move to the next job site, roof another house, come home until he was dead tired on his feet from everything that he had done in a day. When that happened, all he wanted to do was sit down and escape. He knew that wasn’t the Amish way, but it was how he felt all the same. His job was hard, physically and mentally, and it never seemed to end. He supposed that was a good thing. He wasn’t afraid of hard work, but he felt like he was working so hard for someone else. Someone who might or might not appreciate all the effort he put in.
So his escape came in the form of his cell phone. He knew that it irr
itated Tess a bit, but she didn’t understand. She had the dream life, raising her goats and staying at home, cooking and cleaning and all the other things that Amish women had been raised to do. The problem was he hadn’t been raised to build roofs. He’d been raised to be a good Amish man, a father and provider. Well, he had provided, but now the stress of working outside his home was sometimes more than he could bear. Was it too much to ask to be allowed to enjoy the time that was his? He didn’t think so, but he had a feeling his wife did.
Chapter Two
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Tess turned toward Jacob. “Nothing’s wrong.” But it was a lie. Yet to say the words out loud sounded petty and childish. So the lie would have to do, until she figured out what to do with her sadness. It had found its way into her thoughts and hung around like a dark cloud overshadowing her every thought. Why couldn’t she and Jacob go see her family? Why did this marriage seem unfair?
“It doesn’t seem that way to me.”
And if she told him, would it change anything? Probably not. It was simply something she had to learn to live with. This was her life now. And whether she was unhappy with it or not, it seemed to be what God had planned for her.
But does God really want me unhappy?
Or maybe she was looking for happiness in the wrong places. She and Jacob had a nice home, food on the table, everything they needed. She had her goats and the quilting circle, a wonderful group of friends who loved and supported her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like living in Wells Landing, but she hated being so far away from her family.
“Maybe when we get home we could play a game.” Jacob didn’t look at her as he spoke the words. And he said them so softly she was uncertain if she had heard them at all. Then he turned, eyebrows raised as if waiting for her answer.
“After I’m done milking the goats.” Cleaning out their pens and all the other stuff she had to do on a daily basis where the creatures were concerned.
Jacob faced the front again. His lips were pressed together. He looked almost . . . mad. What did he have to be upset about?
He was the one who wanted to go visiting. Was it her fault that the goats needed to be taken care of? If they had stayed home they would have had plenty of time to visit with each other and play games.
Jacob turned the buggy down the drive and pulled up next to the barn. He sat there for a second as if contemplating the merits of speaking his mind. But Tess wasn’t in the mood for it. She had done everything he had asked of her today, and now she had work to do. He had to understand that.
She slid open the buggy door and stepped out without a word. She had chores to do, and she surely didn’t have time for an argument with her husband.
* * *
After changing into her chore dress and replacing her prayer kapp with a faded handkerchief, Tess made her way over to the small pen that held her goats.
As far as she was concerned, they were beautiful creatures. She loved their round bodies and coarse fur. She loved how their lips moved when they chewed on something. In all, she loved just about everything about them.
She had started milking the goats twice daily instead of once in order to increase the milk production. Their property was small and his family had no room to keep the goats. But soon, she prayed, she and Jacob would find a farm on the edge of town. They would move out and she could expand her production. She was starting to sell the goat’s milk raw in addition to making cheese, soaps, and lotions. Helen Ebersol, the bishop’s wife, made a few products herself, but Tess knew that she did it only for friends and family. Tess enjoyed the work, though it was to help their household. She dreamed of a day when Jacob didn’t have to work so hard at his roofing company and she would be able to spend more time with him. Or maybe he could quit the place altogether, and that would mean the end of the cell phone and the Facebook account. Wouldn’t it be fantastic if she and her goats could make all that possible? It was merely a dream, she knew, but if a dream was all she had, she would take it. It gave her hope that one day things would be different for her and Jacob.
But until then . . . She hooked the first goat to the milking leash, grabbed her stool, and got down to work.
* * *
Sunday was a day of rest not work, and Jacob hated to see his wife out milking those goats. In fact, he hated the goats altogether. To him they were a sign of his failure. Tess’s mother had given her the beasts, arranged for her to take over the small herd from an elderly aunt. When she first brought them home she had been beyond excited, chattering nonstop about the money that she would make, money that he evidently wasn’t supplying. But it was hard to save every dime, near impossible to get ahead when paying rent on a house. A house he hated too. He wanted to farm, and though farms were widespread in northeast Oklahoma, farms for sale were a little harder to come by.
As he stood at the window and watched, Tess unhooked one goat and grabbed another by the collar. She looked hot and tired. Part of him wanted to go out and help. Because he loved her. She was his wife, his life mate. But another, more stubborn part of him wanted her to realize how much work the goats were and how unnecessary it was. He wanted her to give it up on her own. But it had been almost a year and she showed no signs of letting up.
He turned away from the window. As much as he hated it, it was no skin off his nose, as they say. Somehow she managed to balance all the work she did. The house was always clean, supper was always ready, his clothes washed and hung neatly in the closet. He could find no fault in that. So why did the thought of her keeping the goats make him so angry? He shook his head and took his phone out of his pocket.
Jah, that was one of the stipulations for having a phone in Bishop Ebersol’s district. One wasn’t supposed to use it on Sunday. It was a reasonable rule considering that no work was to take place on Sunday other than only what was absolutely necessary. But more and more, Jacob had a hard time adhering to that rule. What was the harm in scrolling around on Facebook? He rarely commented on anybody’s posts, instead preferring to see what was going on in the world and what everyone around him was doing. He had a few English friends that he liked to keep in contact with and there were the few ex-Amish who had left Wells Landing, Lorie Kauffman and Luke Lambright. It was fun to see their pictures. As far as he was concerned it was like the Die Botschaft, a place for news and connecting. What was the harm in that?
He thumbed open Facebook and sat back in his recliner.
* * *
Monday came and brought with it stormy skies. The rain fell off and on, and still Jacob went to work. Oklahoma storms were hard and severe, but rarely lasted long before moving on.
Tess knew they needed the rain. It would water their gardens, help the farmers, and cool the earth from being scorched in the summer heat. But the rain always made her sad. She could tell herself again and again the rain was necessary, but it didn’t stop the melancholy feelings that stole over her at the sight of the gray skies. Her only hope had been that Jacob would take one look at the sky and call his boss to see if they were working. He would tell Jacob no, then the two of them could spend the day together like they should have on Sunday. But it seemed that wasn’t to happen either.
She took the pan of blueberry muffins from the oven and set them on the stove top to cool. Her blueberry plants were producing like crazy and she knew she would have to can pie filling before long—there were that many of them. Good thing Jacob liked blueberries or they would both be in trouble.
The phone rang out in the barn. Rarely did she go out and answer it, waiting instead till the end of the day to check the messages, but what did she have to do today?
Despite the light drizzle that fell from the sky, she ran out the back door and toward the barn. She managed to catch the phone on the third ring, raising the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”
“Tess?”
“Hi, Lavina.” It was her sister. Never before had she been more grateful that she’d rushed out to answer the ringing
phone.
“Are you busy?”
“Not at all.” It was so good to hear her sister’s voice. They didn’t talk very often on the phone. Tess preferred to go to Clarita and see her sister and family face-to-face. She sorely missed them.
“I have some news.” Lavina’s voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“Oh, jah?” She had to believe that the news was good news. Surely her sister wouldn’t call on the phone to tell her something bad.
“I’m having a baby.”
Tess nearly dropped the phone, but somehow managed to recover. “A baby? But Joseph . . .” She couldn’t finish.
“We’ve moved the wedding up a bit.” It was July now, and Lavina and Joseph had planned their wedding for the first of October.
It wasn’t unheard of for a couple in love to give in to the temptations presented to them. Now that they had, they would have to stand before the church and confess their sins. They would ask to be forgiven. It was a sensitive matter in the church, but none of that was what sent jealousy and remorse burning through Tess.
“I’m so happy for you.” And she was. How could she not be happy for her sister? But she was jealous. Oh so jealous. There was a reason that envy was one of the seven deadly sins, and she would do well to remember that. She prayed about it every day, but perhaps now she should move that up to twice a day. Or maybe she should write it on a piece of paper and pin it inside her dress over her heart so she never forgot.
She was happy for her sister, but Tess had been married for almost three years. She had followed God’s plan and done everything she was supposed to. So why wasn’t she the one calling Lavina with news instead? She just didn’t understand.
“I knew you would be happy for me.” She could almost hear her sister smile. “Of course Mamm and Dat are a little shocked, and I think his parents are as well, but it’s just one of those things.”
One of those things. Just like God’s plan.
“So when is the wedding now?”
“Two weeks. I hope you can come.”
