Silvia's Rose

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Isaiah nodded and followed Daniel around the corner of the old building. “What? Did I transgress the Ordnung this morning already?”

  Daniel grinned and ignored the joke. “I just wanted to tell you I wasn’t able to find out anything more about Joseph and his roses. I checked with Deacon Lester from Joseph’s home district in Southern Lancaster County, and the man wrote back with nothing but praise for both Joseph and Silvia. It appears that Silvia was the model of decorum and decency for the short time she lived after their wedding. So there you go, for what it’s worth. I don’t know that Joseph is doing anything wrong by selling roses, though he does sell a lot. There’s nothing in our Ordnung about roses, so maybe you should raise a few yourself while you romance Esther.”

  Isaiah laughed. “I don’t think a lot of romancing is necessary. I’ve never been the romantic type and neither has she.”

  “Ah, come on,” Daniel teased. “Everybody has a little romance in them. You ought to make a special announcement today in appreciation of Esther for the contribution she’s already made to the community. I heard that Arlene and Joseph are following Esther’s example of having you over every week for supper. Looks like Esther has started a new trend for our community when it comes to second courtships. Or was that your idea?”

  Isaiah lowered his head. “I’m afraid I can’t take the credit for that.”

  Daniel slapped Isaiah on the shoulder. “There you go. Well, it looks like the women have lunch about ready. You’re the man of the house here. Take the chance to say something a little special on Esther’s behalf.”

  Isaiah forced a laugh, and Daniel left with a broad grin on his face. Indeed, the yard in front of his house was a hive of activity. The women had set up tables and covered the tops with white tablecloths and steaming dishes of food. Chairs were scattered about, ready for use once the men were called to lunch. Did he have the nerve to give Esther praise in public? What if he choked up? He was used to giving sermons, but this was something else. What if he got halfway through and Esther frowned, or, worse, fled into the house from embarrassment?

  Isaiah grabbed a loose board that lay on the ground. There were still a few moments before dinner would be called, so he didn’t have to make his mind up right away. From somewhere the decision would come, and the words—if they must be spoken. For one thing, yah, Esther deserved them. And her plan for their Friday night dinners was exactly what he had needed. She had been wise in her suggestion. His admiration for her grew each week as they chatted around the dinner table, and their times together were so much more enjoyable than his previous dating experiences. He had taken Mandy home each Sunday evening for more than three years. Those times with Mandy had been lovely, but this was different and better in its own way.

  Isaiah jumped when the dinner bell rang. The clang broke through the barn raising din like the blast of a train whistle. Silence fell at once, but it was replaced by the soft scuffle of the men’s feet and the drone of their voices as they unlatched their tool belts. One by one the men laid them all over the ground and rested their hats on top. Lines of men formed at bowls of water that were set up near the well pump. Isaiah hung back, as befitting his role today. This was his place, and the others showed him a great favor with their help. He would gladly go last to demonstrate his gratitude.

  Plenty of water was splashed at the water bowls, as the younger unmarried men washed up. But no one objected to the fun. This was a day of joy and happiness, a gathering of the community in expression of love and care for each other. Isaiah took his place at the end of the longest line. A few minutes later he was at the bowl, pouring fresh water and washing himself with soap. Then he began to dry his hands and face on a moist towel.

  “Here’s a dry one,” Beth told him as she hurried up with a smile. “How do you like the progress of the barn so far?”

  Isaiah took the towel from her hands. “Thank you. Things are going great. Everyone is doing very well, and there have been no accidents, for which I am very grateful. I’m also grateful for what you’re doing in the kitchen today.” Isaiah motioned toward the food-laden tables. “This is no doubt your and Esther’s handiwork.”

  “The others did their share, but Esther is a wonder, Isaiah.” Beth patted him on the arm. “You are getting a goot frau.”

  “I know,” Isaiah said with a smile. Beth turned to scurry back to the tables.

  When someone tapped him on the shoulder, Isaiah turned to see the bishop’s smiling face. “Are you giving a speech before we give thanks for the meal? The man of the house usually does that to thank everyone for coming.”

  “Of course.” Isaiah drew himself up higher. “Everyone must be thanked.”

  “You’re a preacher, so you shouldn’t have problems with public speaking,” the bishop teased.

  Isaiah bit back his retort. Bishop Willis didn’t know about the special words he’d decided to say about Esther right here in public. He was determined now. Hopefully he wouldn’t offend Esther or make a fool of himself.

  “Hello, everyone!” Isaiah hollered, waving his arms about.

  Silence fell slowly, and all heads turned in his direction. Isaiah took a deep breath and began. “Before our bishop gives thanks for this wunderbah meal the women have prepared for us, I want to thank everyone for coming. I’m humbled that each of you took the time out of your busy schedules to take mercy on a poor farmer like me who took it into his head to build a barn addition.” Chuckles rippled through the crowd, and Isaiah hurried on. “I know I didn’t lose a barn through a tragedy, so your compassion for me must have come from the high esteem where you hold me.” More laughter came from the men. Isaiah grinned and waited until silence had fallen. “So thanks to each of you, and to the cooks especially. Beth is in charge today, along with Esther Stoltzfus, who only recently moved to our valley. She has already become quite the blessing to the community, as all of you know so well.” He paused and then continued. “Esther is a special woman in my life, and I want to give her my personal thanks for choosing this community as her home, and for…”

  Isaiah searched for words. He simply couldn’t go on. Thankfully, no one seemed to care about his pause as one young man slapped another on the back and called out, “How about that. Our minister’s in love again.”

  Esther threw her apron over her face, but the women around her beamed smiles in her direction.

  “That’s all I have to say!” Isaiah hollered out.

  He was red faced himself, but at least Esther hadn’t fled the scene. What she would say to him afterward, he didn’t know. Would she be angry? That was the most likely thing to happen. What had overcome him? This was the worst way he had ever heard of to make a woman fall in love.

  “Let us pray now,” Bishop Willis said loudly, lifting his voice above the chatter.

  Everyone fell silent and bowed their heads for the prayer of thanks. After the amen was pronounced, the lines formed at the tables as each man piled his plate high with food.

  Isaiah looked around, but Esther was nowhere in sight. Had she fled into the house after all, or had she gone there because of her duties? Isaiah hung back and filled his plate only after all the other men had gone through. The younger unmarried women were in line behind him, giggling and whispering. He couldn’t understand their words, but their plans were soon evident. After he had settled in at the table, the first two girls carried their filled plates toward the table where the unmarried men were sitting.

  A chorus of “Welcome, girls!” went up.

  Still giggling, the two settled in beside their boyfriends and engaged them in whispered conversations. More of the girls followed once the ice had been broken. Was he to blame for the romance in the air today? Dating couples didn’t usually sit with each other on barn raising days.

  The men across the table from Isaiah glanced in the direction of the couples. “Looks like you’ve started quite a thing today, Isaiah,” one of them said.

  “We should certainly keep an eye on the young folk
s,” Isaiah tried to tease.

  Chuckles passed between them. “I suppose that’s true,” one of them allowed.

  “A little romance never hurt anyone,” another added.

  “Really, Jonas. And this from a married man?”

  The laughter rippled down the table.

  “What’s all the whispering about?” someone shouted from the end.

  “Jonas wants his frau sitting with him.”

  Jonas slapped the man on the arm, producing more laughter.

  The truth was, he would have welcomed Esther’s presence beside him at the moment, but that wasn’t going to happen. He had embarrassed her sufficiently for one day, and they were older and more sensible than the young people. She would never walk over to his table in front of everyone.

  Isaiah glanced toward the house. There was still no sign of Esther. She had to eat, didn’t she? He would go and apologize if she didn’t come out soon. He took another bite and waited with his eye on the front door. Thankfully, she appeared before his plate was empty. Isaiah kept her in his sight as she filled her plate, but not once did she glance toward him. Oh, well. He would find some way to make things right with her. He had to. Esther was sensible. She would not end their relationship over some ill-timed words of praise.

  The meal concluded, but he’d had no chance to speak with her in private. He would have to wait. Moments later men were relatching their tool belts, and in an hour the trusses were set on the roof. Isaiah joined in the chatter and the laughter. He was a man and could work even when distracted by a woman. This demonstrated exactly why he had never dabbled in this foolishness. Emotions only got in the way of true peace and happiness. Yet Esther had deserved the praise. Once they were alone, that was what he would tell her.

  The afternoon drifted on, and only a few pieces of trim were left to secure when chore time arrived and many had to leave. Esther had stayed, Isaiah noted as he slipped into the barn to begin his own chores. Outside, the young men who didn’t have any chore responsibilities banged away on the new barn. They would be done by the time he finished, and Beth and Esther would serve them supper.

  Isaiah turned as the barn door creaked open behind him and Esther slipped in.

  “Are you leaving?” he asked with a catch in his voice.

  She came closer to whisper, “No. I came in to thank you for what you did at lunchtime. I had to come out and speak with you the first chance I had. That was so wunderbah, to say those words in public.”

  “But…I saw you blushing. And then you covered your face with your apron.”

  “Yah, I know, but it was worth it, Isaiah. To have words said about one like that…”

  “I didn’t say much, and I—”

  “Thank you, Isaiah,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “Thank you so much.” She turned and hurried away.

  “Are you staying for supper?” he called after her.

  “Of course!” she exclaimed before disappearing out the barn door at a fast run.

  EIGHTEEN

  The following Tuesday evening, Joseph pushed open the front door to his home and stepped inside. From the bangs and crashes coming from the kitchen, Arlene was still in a bad mood. She had been disgruntled all afternoon, which was unusual. She usually glowed with happiness on the days she prepared dinner for them.

  “Arlene?” he called from the kitchen doorway.

  She whirled about. “Joseph! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  He tried to smile. “I have to keep you on your toes.”

  She glared at him. “You already do that plenty. My patience has been on edge all day thinking about fixing supper for you and Ben.”

  He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down. “Then why are you doing this, Arlene? If don’t enjoy preparing supper for us, you don’t have to do it. We shouldn’t go on with this if you’re so uncomfortable with the situation.”

  “It works for Esther, and it will work for me!” she snapped as she opened the oven door. A wave of hot air burst across the small kitchen.

  “Arlene, please.” Joseph begged. “I don’t like this in the least. I thought it might work, but now I’m not so sure. You’re not Esther, and I’m not Isaiah.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek.

  “You don’t want to spend your life cooking for a man you don’t love.”

  “I do too,” she retorted. “I mean, I do love you. You can tell by my putting up with this situation. It’s bad enough that you don’t have the food or ingredients I need to make a proper supper. I have to scrimp and stretch and cut corners, and tonight’s supper will be my worst yet.”

  Joseph leaned forward. “Wait a minute. What are you saying?”

  “There are no supplies with which to cook.” She didn’t look at him.

  “Arlene, come on. You didn’t say anything about grocery shopping, so I just bought my usual items. I had no idea you needed certain things. I’m sorry.”

  “You mean you would buy them?” She eyed him a little suspiciously. “My father would never do that. Women aren’t supposed to grumble about what their husband brings home for groceries.”

  “Where did the man get that idea?”

  “I don’t know.” Arlene shrugged. “My father taught us that a woman should have influence on her man and make him better. Mamm was expected to help Daett look goot in public, but in the kitchen she should be submissive and accept what he provided.”

  Joseph rubbed his upper lip. “I’m sorry to hear that your father taught you such things, but I think he was wrong. If you cook here, you should have the groceries you need. I’m not that big of an eater, and neither is Ben. We’re happy with about anything we have, but never mind. So you want different groceries?”

  Her face went pale, “You would call Daett wrong?”

  Joseph hesitated. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to criticize your parents, but in this house we do things the way I do them. So do you want different groceries?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay. Let’s buy them.”

  “Will you still let me cook for you now that you know?”

  He stood. “Yah, it’s okay. I have plenty of money. You can buy all the groceries you want, and you don’t have to ask me before you buy them. Just tell me when you need more money.”

  “Oh, Joseph. You really would do this?” Tears were running down her face.

  “Arlene, you’re breaking my heart. What awful things you were taught.”

  Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

  “Of course I’ll do it. Now, shall I give you a hug to prove it? Just a quick one? I think you need it.”

  She hesitated. “I would like to cook a goot meal first, and then I can look forward to a hug.”

  He shook his head. “Arlene, in this house we give hugs when they’re needed, not just when you’ve done goot work. That’s a lesson you will have to learn—or unlearn, I guess. This is so wrong, Arlene, but here I go again. I don’t want to speak against your parents.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, her feet riveted to the floor.

  “You don’t have to understand.” He opened his arms. “Come.”

  She seemed transfixed.

  “Arlene, please come.”

  She obeyed, her step tentative, and then, as she drew near, he pulled her close. As his arms closed around her, her tears came again, along with great gulps of pain that racked her chest. He held her until her crying had subsided and then helped her to a kitchen chair.

  A second later she bounced up. “The bread!”

  She ran to the oven, and with kitchen mittens she pulled two loaves out and set them on a tray on the countertop.

  “They sure smell fine,” Joseph told her. “Did you have enough flour and other ingredients for the bread?”

  “I was missing a little salt, but I think it will be okay. Will you still give me another hug before I leave if it doesn’t taste exactly right?”

  “If you want hugs
that badly, I’ll give you another one right now. And if you need anything in the kitchen, you can go buy it without any fuss.”

  “I’ll try,” she whispered, stepping closer.

  He opened his arms and held her tight.

  Her face glowed when he let go. “Oh, Joseph, you have brought such happiness to my life. I can barely believe it. Not in a thousand years did I think you would do this.”

  “A man who talks to flowers does strange things,” he teased.

  A worried look filled her face. “So you don’t always do this? Give hugs just because someone needs one?”

  “Only to my family,” he said, “and to people who don’t mind that I talk to my flowers.”

  Her eyes were large again. “You can talk to the flowers all you want. I won’t say a thing as long as you give me hugs like that.”

  He sat down with a sigh. “I was just teasing. There’s no connection between talking to flowers and giving hugs when a person needs them. You take me too literally, Arlene.”

  She looked at him a little skeptically. “Well, supper’s almost ready. Why don’t you call Ben?”

  “Shall I set the table?” he offered.

  She paused with her mouth open. “That’s not decent, Joseph. Men might sit in the kitchen and talk with women as they wait for supper, but they don’t work in here.”

  He sighed. “On that you’re wrong, Arlene. I work in the kitchen all the time, and I’m still a man. Lame, yah, but a man.” He opened the utensil drawer. “I have to set the table when I’m here by myself with Ben. Some men have had women wait on them all their lives, but I haven’t.”

  “That’s pretty obvious. Speaking of that, I need to point out how much this house needs cleaning. The living room is untidy and… well, I peeked in your and Ben’s rooms, and both are a mess.”

  Joseph tried to keep a sober face as he set the table. “How do you propose to find the time to do all this cleaning? You already work in the greenhouse, and you cook on Tuesday evenings—”

  “And Fridays,” she interrupted.

  “Yah, on Fridays.”