Blessings

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  If only Mama and Dad would give in, like Uncle Al.

  Andrew interrupted her thoughts. “Talk to your mother, Trina, and pray.” He gave her chin one more gentle pinch. “God can work things out.”

  “Thanks, Andrew.” Trina bounded out of the truck and headed inside. After a bath and change of clothes, she felt more prepared to face the day. But by the time she reached the café, things were bustling, and she had no opportunity to talk to her mother. As the day dragged on, with an abundance of out-of-town patrons as well as the usual Sommerfeld residents taking advantage of Deborah Muller’s Saturday specials, Trina’s energy lagged, and her frustration grew. Even with her brother, Tony, and Kelly Dick helping, there was never a minute to sit and relax, let alone tell her mother about Dr. Groening’s job opening.

  She thought the last customers would never leave, but when they finally did, she still faced a mountain of work. Heaving a sigh, she filled the mop bucket and grabbed the mop, but then she stood, leaning on it, her eyes closed. Someone tapped her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she found Kelly grinning at her.

  “Do you want me to mop?”

  Trina chuckled, keeping her hands wrapped around the handle and her cheek pressed to her fist. “If you take the mop, I’ll probably fall down.”

  Kelly laughed. “You’ve been dragging all day.”

  From the stove, Mama snorted. “Because she was out all night instead of sleeping.”

  Kelly’s eyebrows shot up.

  “My cousin’s horse got hurt. I spent the night putting cold compresses on his leg.” Trina maintained an even tone, although she wanted to snap at her mother. “So I didn’t get much sleep, but the horse was much better this morning.”

  “That’s good.” Kelly glanced back and forth between the two Muller women, who glared across the floor at each other. She took a hesitant step toward the dishwasher. “Well, if you’re going to mop, I guess I’ll. . .” She waved her hand, indicating the stack of dishes.

  “That’s fine, Kelly. You’ve put in a good day already,” Mama said. “You go ahead and go home.” She turned toward the dining-room doorway and called, “Tony?”

  Tony immediately appeared in the opening between the dining room and kitchen.

  “Are you finished out there?”

  “The money is in the bank envelope, the menus are stacked, the tables are clean,” Tony listed, holding up his fingers and ticking off the accomplished tasks, “and the salt and pepper shakers are full. I haven’t checked the napkin dispensers, though.”

  Mama nodded. “I’ll take care of that. You walk Kelly home; then you can go home, too.”

  Trina nearly wilted, tiredness bringing the sting of tears behind her nose. How she wished to be released of the duties! But of course Mama would let the youngsters go. Since Trina was considered an adult, more was expected of her than of Tony and Kelly.

  The moment the two younger teenagers headed out the back door, Mama pointed at the mop. “Let’s finish up so we can leave, too.” She began transferring dirty dishes from the cart to a washing tray.

  With a sigh, Trina pushed the mop across the floor. Normally she took pleasure in watching the mop strings bunch and straighten with each push and pull, seeing the grime replaced by a shiny clean surface. But today, she just wanted to finish and be done. For good.

  Her mind drifted to the edge of town, to Andrew’s barn, where Regen rested his injured leg. She wondered what Dr. Groening had said when he visited as he’d promised. She hoped he was pleased with the decrease in swelling and had given Livvy encouraging words concerning Regen’s future ability to pull the carriage. She’d heard a few café patrons mention their disappointment that no rides were available today. Andrew might need to borrow a horse from one of his brothers so they could still offer the carriage rides.

  With the thought of Andrew came the reminder of his advice to talk to her mother about her desire to work for Dr. Groening. She glanced across the kitchen at her mother, whose hands moved steadily between the cart and tray. Busy hands. Mama had always had busy hands. Idle hands were the devil’s workshop, she always said, which is why Trina and Tony had been encouraged to find jobs when their school years were complete.

  Trina stifled a snort of frustration. As soon as Tony had finished the ninth grade, he chose to work for an Amish farmer who lived a few miles outside of Sommerfeld, and he drove himself there each day in an old pickup truck their Uncle Henry had fixed up. But Trina hadn’t been given a choice. The day after her thirteenth birthday, Mama had marched her into the café and asked Miss Lisbeth Koeppler if she could use Trina’s help after school and on weekends. Then when she finished her schooling, she automatically began working full-time at the café. Trina had grown to love Miss Koeppler, and she didn’t regret the time she’d spent with the dear old woman, but now that Mama owned the café, Trina’s help seemed to be expected.

  Giving the mop bucket a firm push with the mop head, she propelled it across the floor to the utility sink. She watched the dirty water go down the drain, feeling as though her dreams went with it. She was nineteen already. Her folks—and Graham—would expect her to become a wife and a mother before too long. When would she be allowed to do what she wanted to do rather than what everyone else wanted her to do? The unfulfilled desires rose up strong enough to choke her.

  Spinning from the sink, she raised her voice and called, “Mama? Can we talk?”

  Mama shoved the last tray into the dishwasher, closed the door, and flipped the switch. The roar of running water echoed throughout the kitchen. “At home, Trina. Let’s finish up here without delays, please.”

  Trina clamped her lips together and nodded. Might be better to wait until she was home and could talk to both parents at once, anyway. Even though Dad was strict, he was usually more reasonable than Mama. She headed to the dining room to refill the napkin dispensers.

  When Trina and her mother reached their home, the sky was fully dark. Dad sat in the living room in an overstuffed chair shaped like his bulky form, a newspaper in his hands. He set the paper aside when they entered. “Ah, you’re home.”

  Trina glanced at the ticking clock on the wall. With worship service in the morning, normally the family went to bed early on Saturday nights. Trina fully expected her mother to give her customary order—“Off to bed now. Service tomorrow.” But she surprised Trina by sinking onto the sofa and patting the seat beside her. “All right. What did you want to talk about?”

  Encouraged by her mother’s apparent openness, Trina scurried to the sofa and sat, turning her body slightly to face both parents. They looked at her expectantly, and Trina offered a quick, silent prayer. Let them say yes, Lord, please.. . .

  “Yesterday when I went out to Andrew’s to help with Regen—”

  “Oh, Trina,” Mama cut in, sighing, “if it’s about the horse, can it wait until tomorrow? I’m tired.”

  Trina released a little grunt of displeasure. “Mama, please, let me finish. It isn’t about the horse.”

  Mama’s eyebrows came together briefly, but she remained silent. Turning her gaze to her father, Trina continued. “When I was helping with Regen, Dr. Groening came out. He said I did a good job getting the horse stabilized. He said I have an innate ability with animal care, and”—she took a deep breath, her gaze flitting briefly to her mother’s stern face—“he offered me a job at his clinic.”

  Mama said, “You already have a job.” She started to rise.

  Dad leaned forward, putting out his hand. “Wait, Deborah.” He looked at his daughter. “What kind of job?”

  Trina faced Dad, ignoring Mama’s pursed lips. “He didn’t exactly say, but I would imagine I’d be helping with the animals—cleaning up after surgery and assisting during exams. Really learning how to help them when they’re hurt.”

  Dad frowned at her. “And you’d like that?”

  To her embarrassment, tears sprang into her eyes. The desire to follow her childhood dream of caring for animals welled up and filled her, a
nd it was all she could do to keep from begging her parents for this chance. But she swallowed hard and nodded.

  Dad’s stern countenance softened with a gentle smile. “Ever since you were a little girl, you’ve brought home hurt animals and nursed them. I understand why you want to work with Dr. Groening.” He propped his elbow on the chair arm, cupping his chin. “But Lehigh is too far to walk, Trina, and you don’t drive.”

  “I could learn. Graham said he’d teach me.”

  Mama and Dad exchanged quick glances. “You’ve asked Graham to teach you to drive?” Mama’s voice was sharp.

  Trina felt heat rush to her cheeks. “I didn’t ask. He just offered.”

  “A kind gesture, but it isn’t his responsibility,” Dad said.

  Mama cut in. “I’ve never learned to drive, and I do just fine.”

  “But you work right here in town, Mama—just blocks from home. If I—”

  “I depend on you to help in the café.” Mama glared at Trina, daring her to contradict her.

  Trina clasped her hands together in her lap. “I know you depend on me to help in the café, Mama, but now that it’s summer, there are other girls who could work there. Some, like Kelly Dick, are finished with school now for good, so maybe they’d like an every-day job. Someone else could wait tables and mop the floors. It doesn’t have to be me.”

  Mama opened her mouth, but Dad put his hand on her knee, silencing her. He looked at Trina. “Your mother and I will discuss this, Trina. I’ve known Josiah Groening most of my life, and I trust him as an employer for one of my children. But there are several things that would need to be worked out for you to work in Lehigh.”

  “But, Troy—,” Mama started.

  Dad hushed her with a look. “The girl is nineteen already, Deborah. She’ll be on her own before long. She might as well explore a little bit before becoming responsible for her own home. And better she explore under the supervision of someone we approve.”

  Mama’s lips nearly disappeared, she pinched them so tightly together.

  Trina gave her father a brief hug. “Thank you, Dad.”

  “We’ll talk more tomorrow. To bed now. We have service in the morning.”

  Trina hurried off, but sleep didn’t come quickly. Through the bedroom wall, the mumble of her parents’ voices—Mama’s angry, Dad’s frustrated—kept her from drifting off. Two emotions warred within Trina’s heart—guilt for creating conflict between her parents and hope that they would say yes to her request.

  FOUR

  After Sunday morning service, the members of the fellowship mingled in the churchyard beneath the summer sun, visiting. Graham scanned the grounds, seeking Trina. When he spotted her with Andrew and Livvy, he jogged over and joined them.

  Trina’s smile of welcome lit her eyes. The tawny specks of gold in her brown irises picked up a hint of lavender from her dress of bold purple—a royal color that suited her somehow. Graham wished he could slip his arm around her waist and draw her near, the way Andrew did with Livvy. But that would certainly start the tongues wagging! Instead, he greeted Andrew and Livvy first then turned to Trina. “Do you have plans for lunch?”

  Trina raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Her squint wrinkled her nose. “Mama invited Uncle Henry and Aunt Marie and their twins for lunch.”

  Graham stifled a groan. Trina would probably be expected to help serve at her own table. Henry and Marie Braun had twins a little over two years old, so Marie would be taking care of the toddlers and wouldn’t be much help.

  “Why do you ask?”

  Graham quirked his lips into a grin. “Mom said you could join us, if you were free.”

  Trina’s mouth formed a perfect O. “I’d like that! Let me ask Mama.” She scampered off.

  Graham visited with Andrew while he waited for Trina to return, but he didn’t hold out much hope for a positive answer. In all his months of courting Trina, she had only been allowed to come to his home without her parents one time, and that was on his twenty-first birthday. When Trina returned, however, she wore a huge smile that sent his heart to thumping.

  “Mama says that’s fine. Thank you for the invitation.”

  “She said yes?”

  Trina’s grin turned impish. “She probably wants me out of the way so she and Dad can talk freely.” She turned to look at Andrew. “I talked to Mama and Dad last night, and Dad said they’d discuss it.”

  Andrew reached out and squeezed Trina’s shoulder. “Good. I’ll be praying for God’s will.”

  “Thank you.”

  Graham watched the exchange with interest. “Something important going on?”

  Trina peeked at him, her smile secretive. “I hope so.”

  “Will you tell me about it?”

  “Later.” She slipped her hand through his elbow, creating a mighty caroming in his chest. “We’d better go before your mother thinks we’re not coming.”

  Graham escorted Trina across the grassy yard to his vehicle, opened the door for her, then ran around to his side. He sighed with satisfaction. Just having her in his car, sitting primly on the opposite side of the bench seat, felt wonderful. How much better it would be when they were published and she could slide into the middle of the seat.

  Lunch seemed to drag on forever. Graham enjoyed every bite of the baked ham, scalloped potatoes, last year’s canned beans, and gooey chocolate cake, but when the meal was over, he and Trina would be able to sit on the front porch and talk. The handmade swing was visible to his family through the large picture window in the living room, so they would be properly chaperoned without having to be around the others. Graham relished his moments alone with Trina. Those scarce snatches of time made him eager for the day when she would be his wife, when they would share their own little house and he would have hours of time every day with her.

  When the meal was finished, Trina rose and began clearing dishes.

  “Now you stop that,” Graham’s mother scolded. “You’re a guest.”

  “Nonsense.” Trina sent a smile across the table that softened the word. “If I were home, I’d be helping with cleanup. I want to help.”

  “No, no. You do enough cleaning up at your mother’s café.” To Graham’s relief, his mother shooed Trina away from the table. “I’m accustomed to doing my dishes. You young people go enjoy your time.”

  Before Trina could launch another argument, Graham caught her elbow and ushered her through the living room and out the front door. The early June sunshine raised the temperature, but the porch was shaded by thick spirea bushes, and a slight breeze pushed from the west, making it bearable. He pointed to the swing, and they seated themselves on opposite sides of the wood-slatted hanging bench. At least a foot and a half of distance separated them. That would be considered acceptable.

  All through lunch, Graham had held his curiosity about Trina and Andrew’s brief conversation in the churchyard, but now that he had her alone, he let the question come out. “So what’s this important topic your parents are covering while you’re over here sitting on my porch swing?”

  Trina’s eyes danced, and she pushed her feet against the porch floor, setting the swing in motion. The white ribbons of her cap swayed beneath her chin. A silken strand of deep brown hair slipped along her cheek. Graham wondered what she’d look like with her hair down. He focused on her sweet face as she finally answered his question.

  “They’re considering allowing me to work for Dr. Groening.”

  Ah, he should have known. The look on her face Friday night had clearly indicated her interest. “I’m surprised your mom is even thinking about it.”

  For a moment, Trina’s expression dimmed. But then her smile returned. “I know, but Dad can be persuasive. Of course”—she shrugged, bunching the ribbon on her left shoulder—“he said there would be a lot to work out for it to happen, but. . .”

  “But you’re still hopeful,” he completed.

  She nodded. “Oh yes. Working with Dr. Groening, learning how to doct
or animals, would be so wonderful!”

  He smiled, enjoying her animated voice and face.

  “Spending the night out at Andrew’s with Regen, I had such a feeling of contentment when the swelling in the horse’s leg went down. I love animals, and I want so much to help them.” She closed her eyes, tipping her head back and drawing in a deep breath. “There’s so much I don’t know, Graham, and I want to learn it. I want to learn everything.” She threw her arms wide and giggled, peeking at him.

  Graham resisted taking her hand. Her enthusiasm toward life always lifted his spirits. He could imagine coming home to her after a long day at the lumberyard, letting her smile and cheerful chatter lift him from tiredness. His chest tightened with desire to make her his as soon as possible.

  Suddenly an impish grin creased her cheeks. “I told them you offered to teach me to drive.”

  Graham chuckled to cover his embarrassment. He fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. “Oh? And what did they say?”

  Trina sighed. “Dad said it wasn’t your responsibility.”

  Graham nodded. “No, probably not. But in a few months. . .it could be.”

  She turned a puzzled look in his direction. “What do you mean?”

  Graham glanced through the window. His father dozed in his chair, and his mother was nowhere in sight—probably still in the kitchen. His younger brother—usually the one to spy—appeared caught up in the Mennonite Weekly. Graham looked at Trina and shifted a few inches closer to her. He lowered his voice, just in case it might carry through the window’s screened opening into the house.

  “If we were published, no one would think it wrong for me to teach you to drive.”

  Her eyes widened. “Published?” She licked her lips. “But—but it’s summer.”

  “The wedding would have to wait until the winter months, when the harvest is over.” He substantiated her unspoken thought. “But we could publish our engagement now.”