by Linda Byler
She never said too many shameless things, just coyly suggesting the colors she liked for a kitchen or the style of cabinets. Typically, Stephen never answered or mentioned the fact that he liked a certain type of house or anything at all.
The wedding day dawned bright and clear, a perfect late March day. Buses and passenger vans packed the driveway, mixed with teams of horses and buggies, people hurrying and scurrying everywhere.
John’s family and friends were all from the Lamton area, so it seemed as if over half of the crowd arrived in vehicles. Lizzie liked John’s parents immediately, a nice-looking, friendly couple who were from an old Lamton family, obviously hard-working and very proper with impeccable manners.
Lizzie told Mam they reminded her of the old Southern families she had read about in books. Mam said, yes, they were probably much the same. They were all well-to-do Amish farmers, though, and not plantation owners, although their ancestors, like the Southern families, probably came from a certain circle of people in England or Germany.
Hmm, Lizzie thought. So now Mandy is marrying into the “gentry” from Lamton. Oh, dear. Next thing, I’ll just be her common servant, and she’ll snap her fingers to have my absolute obedience.
When John and Mandy stood before the minister from Ohio, they looked so sincere and serious, pronouncing their vows with such quiet solemnity, that Lizzie was quite overcome by emotion. Unexpectedly, a huge lump formed in her throat, and quick tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of Mandy’s serious step, this embarking together on life’s river with John by her side.
John was as handsome as he had been the first day Lizzie saw him. It had taken her a while to accept that John wasn’t interested in her, but instead in skinny, big-eyed Mandy. Lizzie glanced over at Stephen who sat straight and still on his bench. Well, things had worked out for the best, just as Mam had said they would.
Still, Lizzie didn’t want Mandy to be married. First Emma, now Mandy. The thought of life without sisters, except for her twin sisters, KatieAnn and Susan, who were still too young to be much fun, was depressing indeed. But this was a day of happiness, of joy and celebration, so Lizzie put aside all thoughts of losing Mandy to John and his dairy farm. There was no sense in becoming absolutely morose on Mandy’s special day, so she did her level best to smile brightly, talking and laughing happily with all the guests after the service was over.
But once the buses and vans motored out the drive, and the tired aunts and uncles finished washing dishes and putting benches and chairs away, and she could finally collapse into bed, she cried great tears of genuine self-pity. She wallowed in her sad feelings like a pig in its mudhole, actually enjoying the fact that she could release her pent-up emotions after spending all day with that artificial smile pasted on.
She wished with all her heart that Mandy wouldn’t have married so young. Now she’d never be the same. She’d turn into this proper walking stick who didn’t laugh hilariously and kick Lizzie out of bed or do other unladylike things that were so … so sisterly and had long ago secured a bond between them that no proper Lamton family could even touch.
Oh, she could just see it. Now, when she’d go visiting Mandy on the dairy farm, she’d open the door, her hair combed sleek and smooth, not even a trace of any stray hairs, her covering ironed to perfection, and she’d inquire with genuine warmth about her trip. And Lizzie would stand on her doorstep and feel like a genuine hillbilly, fat, with her hair going in every direction and her covering crooked, and say, “Fine, thank you. Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
They would never again, not once, throw back their heads and laugh uproariously or go swimming in the creek or drive Billy. Mandy was married. A great wave of regret and nostalgia carried Lizzie along until she thought she would just stop breathing with the awful pain in her chest.
And another thing. Stephen hadn’t even been very romantic at the supper table. He was having too much fun with Marvin and Aaron, who sat across the table. He was having a great time, laughing and teasing poor Sara Ruth until Lizzie was embarrassed. He could at least act as if he planned to grow up someday and seriously ask her to be his wife.
Well, I’m not going to live here alone without Mandy, she decided. If he doesn’t ask me to marry him, I’ll have to ask him myself. It had been hard when Emma left home to live in Allen County, but Mandy getting married was even worse.
Why hadn’t Stephen tried to give her some special attention and hint about it being her turn to be the next bride? Not a word, not a serious look, nothing.
She punched her pillow, flipped on her side, and groped for the box of Kleenex in her nightstand drawer. Blowing her nose loudly, she wiped her eyes, rolled over, and resumed pitying herself. The next morning, when Mam asked her what was wrong with her eyes, Lizzie glared at her and told her she had eaten too much wedding cake.
Chapter 5
JOHN AND MANDY MOVED 10 miles away to their dairy farm soon after they were married. Lizzie went back to school where she was quickly swept up in her teacher’s duties again. The easy routine of teaching made it easier for her to accept the fact that Mandy was married and that she had gone to live with John.
It wasn’t that she didn’t miss her; there was just nothing else to do about it. Life went on as usual, the sun rose and set in the same sky, and Mandy lived under the same sky with the same sun and moon, except now she was 10 miles away. Emma was even farther away, and Lizzie had soon become accustomed to that, so she would survive.
Dat’s health seemed fairly stable in the spring. He loved the challenge of building. Mam said that his giving up farming was one of the best things that could have happened. He was always eager to go to work, he was happy while he was there, and he had only minor frustrations, like stumbling occasionally or bouts of blurry vision.
One warm Sunday evening, Stephen and Lizzie decided to sit under the old apple tree in the pasture instead of sitting as they normally did in the living room. The grass was soft and cushiony, so after their walk, they sat side by side in the soft, warm darkness.
Stephen was acting a bit strange, Lizzie thought, having less to say than usual, which really, on ordinary days, was never very much at all. Lizzie tried gamely to keep up a lively conversation, but she didn’t get a very positive response from Stephen.
Finally, she could stand it no longer, so she blurted out, “Why don’t you have anything to say this weekend? You’re much quieter than usual.”
Stephen didn’t answer until Lizzie became quite uncomfortable.
Then, all he said was, “I’d like to build a house someday.”
“A house!” Lizzie squeaked, her heart plummeting to her stomach.
“Yes.”
“You mean to sell? Or for yourself, or … I mean, where would you build it? Do you know how to build a house by yourself?”
“Of course. That’s what I do.”
“Oh, yes. I guess.”
There was a soft silence as dogs barked in the distance. Headlights created an arc of light as a car rounded the bend, the kitchen door slammed as someone went out to the front porch, and still Stephen said nothing.
Lizzie gnawed at the corner of her thumbnail, cleared her throat, sighed, glanced nervously in Stephen’s direction, and wondered what was going on. Surely he wasn’t contemplating marriage this weekend, as he had been having the time of his life with all of his friends, playing baseball, going on day trips, talking about walking that dreaded—in Lizzie’s opinion—Appalachian Trail again. Stephen’s first trip had just about ended their relationship, and Lizzie wasn’t sure she could handle it if Stephen went hiking for a month again.
And then, oh sickening thought, she wondered if he wanted to end the relationship, to have absolute freedom to go on long trips or just do as he wanted. He had acted like it lately, now that she thought about it.
She held her breath as he reached down and took away her hand.
“Don’t do that. You’ll chew a hole in your thumb.”
There was a space of
a few heartbeats as his hand tightened on hers, and he leaned closer.
Then, very softly, he said, “Lizzie, do you think we could build a small house on an acre of your dad’s land?”
“W … We?”
“Yes, we.”
“I … I don’t know. I guess we could ask him sometime.”
“No, not sometime. Next week. We have to know if we want to live in our house this winter.”
Lizzie drew a deep breath. “You … you mean … ?”
“Would you live in a new little house with me, Lizzie?”
“We’d … I … we’d have to get married first?” she breathed.
“Of course. If I asked you tonight, would you marry me?”
“Well, are you asking?”
“Yes.”
Lizzie sighed happily, turned to him, and said, “Yes, I will. I will marry you and live in a little house with you.”
Stephen laughed happily. “All my hopes and dreams have come true, Lizzie!”
Lizzie, as usual, felt awkward and wasn’t sure how to answer. For one thing, she was so happy she had to fight back her tears, and for another thing, the lump in her throat threatened to choke her, so she just sat there and swallowed. She couldn’t speak at the moment, although a thousand questions rained in from every direction, wherever thoughts came from. For once in her life, she was absolutely speechless. She wanted to tell him it was a dream come true for her, too, which it was, but to be perfectly honest, she was a bit afraid. How did they know the dream come true would remain a good dream?
So she said, “We’ll be very happy, I’m sure.”
There was nothing wrong with that, was there? Of course not. Of course they would be very happy together. Maybe not 100 percent of the time. Like all the Amish preachers said, they would have their rainy days and their sunshiny days.
Stephen got to his feet quite suddenly, pulling her up with him. His hands closed firmly around hers, and she felt the difference in him as he placed her hands around his waist. Her own heart beat with his, and it was the most natural feeling she had ever experienced. This beating of two hearts together was as light as a moth and as powerful as a large magnet.
Lizzie raised questioning eyes to him. The lights from the back porch reflected the love in his blue, blue eyes. As naturally as their hearts beating, he slowly bent his head, and their lips met in an honest-to- goodness kiss of love.
It wasn’t that the world stood still, the way the books said. But the dark sky, the apple tree, the soft summer night’s breeze, disappeared for a very short time. In that moment, there was only Stephen and this all-consuming love she felt for him.
“Lizzie, I love you so much,” Stephen said, his voice shaking. “Thank you for promising to be my wife.”
“I do love you, too, Stephen,” she said.
And she did.
The spoken words, that mutual kiss empowered Lizzie, drowning any doubts or fears she had ever felt. They would stand together, in love, with God at the helm, and even if they stumbled and fell sometimes, he would pick them up.
After a moment, Stephen pulled back.
“You know, Lizzie, I don’t have a lot of money. I have very little saved up, but I think if we had a bit of land, we could borrow the money from the bank to build our house.”
“Do you really think we can borrow the money?” Lizzie asked. “I mean, how do you know we could even qualify?”
“We probably won’t unless we own an acre of land,” Stephen answered.
Then he laughed softly. “Here we are, planning our house as if our life depended on it and acting as if our relationship—actually getting married—is of no consequence. Do you think we can get along?”
“Oh, of course,” Lizzie said airily. “We don’t always agree on everything now, so I’m sure there will be times when we don’t agree in the future. And you know me. I can’t keep my thoughts and opinions to myself, and I might get a bit loud and judgmental, don’t you think?”
Stephen laughed. “Yes, definitely.”
“And,” Lizzie continued, “you’ll just stay quiet and never say what you think but do exactly as you please, no matter if I fuss and carry on like a wild person.”
“Not always. Not if I love you as I should,” he said soberly.
Lizzie was amazed at that statement. He must have read his Bible about that subject as well, which was very good. Stephen was not the type of person to be verbal about God or what certain passages in the Bible meant. He was taught to keep his faith to himself, as most Amish youth were. They were instructed to live their beliefs and let their lights shine, which was good.
Stephen did not think highly of himself or his opinions, especially when it came to spiritual matters. Lizzie had realized early in their relationship that he was not comfortable with speaking about God. Lizzie had mentioned this to Mam, and Mam said that it was nothing to worry about. That would come in time, as he matured spiritually, which was comforting to Lizzie.
Lizzie clasped her hands, sighing joyously. “Oh, I can hardly believe this! Really, Stephen, are we actually going to live in a new house? How did you know I always wanted a new one? You know I’m not like Emma. She always wanted an old house with old quilts and stuff. I’ll even have new kitchen cupboards, won’t I? And I’ll get to pick out the color of my linoleum, no, not my linoleum, our linoleum,” she said, laughing happily.
So they sat and planned, talking about many different subjects, until Stephen said it was past his usual time to leave.
“You ask your dad about the land, all right?” he concluded.
“No, you come over Wednesday evening, and we’ll ask him together,” she corrected him.
“You know, it’s funny about your dad. I don’t know how often I’ve heard him say he would gladly have all his married children live on the farm, and so far, they’ve all moved away to farms of their own. I always thought he’d probably be glad to offer us some land. Do you think I’m right?” Stephen asked.
Lizzie laughed. “Oh, you know how Dat is, Stephen. He talks almost as much as I do!”
She helped him hitch up his horse, and as he drove out through the darkness, his lights blinking as they always did, Lizzie thought they blinked a bit faster and brighter than before. She and Stephen were so happy that even the buggy lights felt it, she thought, then told herself to stop being so downright silly.
Wednesday evening Stephen was a bit late, which had Lizzie in an absolute dither. For one thing, she had tried so hard not to talk about the marriage proposal and the acre of land to anyone, but unable to help herself she had confided in Mam the very first thing on Monday morning.
Lizzie thought Mam seemed quite pleased, especially about their plans to build a house somewhere on the farm. So that made Lizzie feel good inside, thinking how happy Mam was to welcome Stephen warmly into the family as a new son-in-law. Of course, she reasoned, Mam and Dat had always approved of Stephen, she was sure of that.
When Stephen finally did turn into the drive, she breathed a sigh of relief. Dat had just finished the barn chores and was sitting on the porch for a minute’s rest. He looked questioningly at Lizzie as Stephen pulled up to the barn door.
“This isn’t Saturday evening,” he said bluntly.
Lizzie ran lightly down the steps, calling over her shoulder, “I know. He has something he wants to ask you.”
“Hello, Stephen,” Lizzie said, smiling up at him warmly as he walked toward her.
“Hello, yourself. Did you tell him?”
“No.”
She hadn’t told him, that was the truth, but she was almost certain Mam had said something to him about it.
“Hi, Stephen,” Dat called. “We didn’t expect to see you this evening.”
Stephen grinned at him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Dat.
“Oh, I’m fine. I would hardly know I have MS, except my legs don’t always want to do what my brain tells them to do. My eyesight is largely improved by the new prescription
from the specialist in Warm Springs. He knows what he’s doing. It took him two whole hours to thoroughly examine my eyes, and he found some things an ordinary doctor would never have found. I got a new pair of glasses. Almost fell over backward when he told me the price. Three hundred dollars! I almost told him to keep the glasses. That’s ridiculous.”
He stopped for breath, but before Stephen could get a word in edgewise, he started rambling on again.
That was Dat, Lizzie thought, smiling to herself as she walked to the porch with Stephen. As long as he had someone who listened without saying much, which Stephen was very good at, Dat would talk.
“You ought to start working with me and Jase. We need a good block layer right now. Are you familiar with masonry?”
Dat barely paused long enough to hear Stephen’s “Mm-hmm,” before launching into a lively description of a concrete job they were doing.
Stephen sat down next to Dat and listened, nodding his head, or shaking it in disbelief, and laughing at appropriate times. His eyes were crinkled at the sides, and he looked as if he was enjoying the whole conversation, although Dat was doing all the talking.
Jason came up on the porch, greeting Stephen with a quick smile.
“Are you mixed up, Stephen? It isn’t Saturday evening,” he asked, interrupting Dat.
“I know. I came to ask your dad a question,” Stephen said quietly.
“What? What?” Dat was fairly hopping up and down on his lawn chair, if it was possible to hop up and down while still sitting.
Stephen took a deep breath, and Lizzie could tell he was nervous. He wasn’t good with words, long speeches, or talking when he felt embarrassed, so she felt a bit sorry for him.
“I guess … Did Lizzie tell you we want to be married in the fall?” he started.
“No! Really? She didn’t tell me!” Dat leaned forward, slapping his knee. “But do you think a secret like that would survive 10 minutes in this house? Of course, I know. Annie told me.”
