Rose Anna gave her an arch look as if she knew what her schweschder was thinking, and Mary Elizabeth felt warmer.
Thank goodness their mudder was concentrating on her sewing was all Mary Elizabeth could think.
7
Mary Elizabeth turned on the battery-operated lamp on Rose Anna’s bedside table, then leaned over and shook her shoulder. “Rose Anna, wake up.”
She muttered something unintelligible and rolled over.
“Rose Anna, get up, now!”
“Go ’way!” She tried to pull her quilt up over her head, but Mary Elizabeth pulled it down—all the way down to her toes. “It’s Daed’s birthday, Lazybones, and you’re getting up!”
Groaning, Rose Anna sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Don’t know why we have to celebrate it in the morning.”
“Because it’s a surprise. If we do it later today, he’ll be expecting it.”
Rose Anna muttered, but she got up and pulled on her robe.
Mary Elizabeth handed her a hairbrush. “Here, brush your hair. You don’t want to scare him.”
Grumbling, she pulled the brush through her hair, bound it back in a bun at the nape of her neck, and put on her kapp.
When Mary Elizabeth was certain that her schweschder was on her feet and following her from the room she started down the stairs. If left alone Rose Anna was known to sneak back to bed . . .
They were halfway down the stairs when Rose Anna grabbed her arm and sniffed. “Pancakes. My favorite!”
“Daed’s favorite,” she reminded her.
Rose Anna surged past her and clattered down the stairs.
Their mudder took a platter of pancakes from the back of the stove and set it in the middle of the table. A small pile of gaily wrapped presents sat in front of the plate set at the head of the table.
The back door opened and Jacob walked in.
“Happy birthday, happy birthday!” they sang.
He grinned as they finished with a flourish. “Well, well, all my women are up this early!” he said. “Even you, Rose Anna.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she told him.
“Which one of you dragged Rose Anna out of bed?” he asked, chuckling as he strolled to the sink to wash his hands.
“That would be me,” Mary Elizabeth told him.
“So I’m not a morning person,” Rose Anna sniffed. “I got up for your day, Daed.”
“Ya, you did. Danki,” he said, patting her shoulder before he took a seat at the head of the table.
Lavina walked in just then. She slipped into a chair, and they all bent their heads as Jacob said a prayer of thanks for the meal.
Mary Elizabeth sent up a silent prayer of thanks to God for such a wonderful dat. He worked so hard to provide a home for them. She loved the way he showed his love for them by helping her mudder take care of them when they were little and sick. And he was always doing little thoughtful things like building shelves for their sewing room instead of grumbling about the stacks of fabric they kept buying.
After the meal of blueberry pancakes, bacon, and juice he opened his presents. New work gloves, a new Sunday shirt all four of them had taken part in sewing, Later, at supper, he’d be treated to his favorite pot roast and a chocolate cake.
But now, there was one more present. He stayed in his seat and enjoyed a second cup of coffee and his dochders went out to the barn to do his chores. It was the one day of the year he got a break from them, and Mary Elizabeth and her schweschders were happy to relieve him of them.
“So tell us about the date with the new guy,” Rose Anna said the moment they got to the barn.
“Ya, tell us,” Lavina urged, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Mary Elizabeth shot her an exasperated look. “I expect that out of Rose Anna, but you?”
Lavina just shrugged. “You know I want you to be as happy as me.”
“So far only one Zook schweschder is,” Rose Anna muttered. “So tell us about the new man and make me think he’s going to take your mind off Sam. Then maybe I can believe I can find someone to take my mind off John.”
“He’s nice. He’s a gentleman, holds doors open, and listens. Really listens.”
“Sounds promising. I like a man with good manners.”
“And his eyes are such a dreamy blue.” Lavina wrinkled her nose as they mucked out stalls.
Mary Elizabeth looked at her. “Sounds like you were looking at my date.”
“I’m married, not dead,” Lavina quipped.
“They are dreamy, aren’t they?” Rose Anna asked with a chuckle.
“You two. As if that’s a reason to see a man.”
“Not the whole reason,” Lavina said.
“But it helps to have someone attractive to look at,” Rose Anna agreed. “After all, when we marry it’s for a very long time.”
Mary Elizabeth glanced over and saw that Lavina had stopped and was just standing there looking dreamy. “You allrecht?”
She nodded and began working again. “Just thinking. This time last year I didn’t think I’d marry David let alone be having a boppli.”
“The smell out here isn’t bothering you?”
“Nee, not more than usual. The morning sickness is gone.”
“So when are you seeing Ben again?” Rose Anna wanted to know.
“We’re going on a picnic after church next week.”
“You’re cooking?”
Mary Elizabeth made a face at her. “I’m a gut cook!”
“You should have Lavina cook. Or Mamm.”
“I will not. I’m making fried chicken and potato salad and brownies.”
“Be sure to take some Pepto-Bismol.”
“Lavina, tell her I’m a gut cook!”
“She’s a gut cook, Rose Anna. Don’t tease.”
“You just have to hope he never tastes my fried chicken,” Rose Anna said smugly. She set aside her rake and picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow.
Mary Elizabeth set her hands on her hips. “She’s so competitive.”
“Ya. So make her eat her words. Have a fried chicken cook-off.”
“There’s an idea,” she said slowly. “How did you come up with it?”
“Don’t you remember when we were younger she thought she made better mud pies?”
She laughed. “Ya, now that you mention it, I do.”
“Well, I did,” Rose Anna said. “A cook-off . . .” she mused, pursing her lips and considering it. “You’re on!”
* * *
John was sprawled in the tattered recliner they’d rescued from trash day when Sam arrived home later that day. A sports program blared on the television set.
His muscles were aching from hours slinging the sledgehammer doing demolition at Leah’s store, and here was his bruder lazing around looking cool as a daisy in front of a fan and watching sports.
“What are you doing home already?” he asked him as he unlaced his boots at the door.
“We finished a little early.”
“How’d you get home?”
“David had to pick up supplies in town so he dropped me off. Lavina sent leftovers home for us for supper. You want to eat now or after you take your shower?”
“After. I feel like I have five pounds of dust on me.”
Seeing John looking like he’d had an easy day wasn’t bad enough. Running out of hot water one minute into his shower didn’t improve his mood. John loved taking long showers, and the water heater in this place was pitifully small. He counted to ten and sent up a thank-you to God that it wasn’t the dead of winter or no telling what he’d be saying to John when he got out.
Not that he’d use the kind of words John was using since he left their Amish community. He’d spoken to him about it more than once, but John shrugged him off and told him to “get real” and loosen up. They were in a different world now and an occasional “cuss word” was no big deal.
Clean—and more than several degrees cooler now—Sam got out of the shower, toweled off, and
dressed in a pair of jean cutoffs and an old t-shirt that he’d found on the bargain table at the local thrift shop. He and John only had Amish clothes when they left home. The small apartment had a few items of furniture—a sagging sofa, a small dinette table, and beds in the two bedrooms. So they’d kept their eyes out for bargains and even better—for free things like the recliner with orange and brown plaid upholstery and a strip of duct tape holding the stuffing inside.
Sam went into the kitchen and began unloading plastic containers of leftovers from the refrigerator. He’d never envied his bruder David for inheriting the farm . . . Sam didn’t believe in envy. But it schur must be nice to have a fraa who was such a gut cook. And occasionally because their parents lived in the dawdi haus there, their mamm cooked or baked something as well.
Today there was enough meatloaf for two, a big container of mashed potatoes with browned butter on top, and another of the first of the summer’s tomatoes. He fixed a plate with meat and potatoes and warmed it in the tiny microwave—another thrift shop purchase. The clerk there had been so nice explaining how to work it. Sam had only burned a couple of things in it before he got the hang of it.
Well, so the place wasn’t much to look at. But it was a place of their own and the best they’d found for what they could pay.
Sam walked into the living room to tell John supper was ready and found him sound asleep. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should just let him sleep. Then he remembered he wanted to ask how things had gone today.
“John? Supper.”
His bruder woke, blinked. “What?”
“Supper.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Geez, I was having this really good dream. It had this blonde I met at this party—”
“Save it.” Sam turned on his heel. He shook his head. John was enjoying his rumschpringe a little too much. On the other hand, maybe he was never going back home. Sam still didn’t know if he himself ever would.
John stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later. He gulped down the glass of iced tea Sam had poured. “Feels like you can’t get enough to drink on warm days like this.”
Sam grunted. He’d drained half of his glass before cutting into the meatloaf. “So tell me about today.”
“What? We worked in the fields. Daed was actually halfway pleasant.” He scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes and stuffed it into his mouth.
“How was everyone else?”
John shrugged. “All right.” He went to the refrigerator for ketchup and dumped some on the meatloaf. Then he looked up, and his gaze sharpened. “Oh, I get it. You want to know how Mary Elizabeth is.”
“I didn’t ask.”
His bruder smirked. “You didn’t have to.” His smirk faded. He ate quickly, avoiding Sam’s eyes.
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Just tell me.”
“You sure you want to hear this?”
“Yes.” His stomach clenched.
“I overheard Rose Anna and Mary Elizabeth talking about her seeing some new guy.”
“Rose Anna?”
“No, Mary Elizabeth.”
“I see.” So what he’d heard when he walked into David and Lavina’s kitchen last Saturday had been true. She was seeing someone.
Well, that’s what he’d expected when he told her they had no future, right? He’d really thought she’d have done that before now. Well, that was that. He didn’t need to feel guilty that she was sitting around waiting for a future with him that they couldn’t have. He didn’t need to feel anything.
So why did he?
“You all right?”
“Yes.” He resumed eating. “Why wouldn’t I be? I told her I’m not moving back, that we couldn’t be together.”
“If you really feel that way, then why haven’t you been dating?”
“No time. Especially now when Peter and I are taking on extra work.”
“You have to make time. You know what they say about all work and no play . . .”
“They don’t have bills to pay. Speaking of which, rent’s due.”
“Geez, trying to eat supper here.” He dug in his pocket, counted out bills.
Sam couldn’t help holding his breath. They’d had a couple of talks about this when John found it more important to buy new Englisch clothes and beer for parties. To his relief, the amount he handed Sam was correct.
“Thank you.” He stuffed the bills in his pocket.
“Look, there’s a party tonight. Want to come? There’re always some single chicks there.”
“Don’t call them chicks.”
“Hey, sometimes they refer to themselves as chicks. It’s not an insult.”
“Sometimes people call themselves something, but they don’t want you to do it.”
John rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a lecture, bro.” He scraped the last of the meatloaf from his plate. “So you want to check out the party or not?”
“Not. And if you need a ride home, don’t get in the car with someone who’s been drinking.”
“I never do.” He looked at Sam. “I have more sense than you give me credit for.” He rose to put the rhubarb pie Lavina had sent home with him on plates.
Sam pushed his empty plate aside and took the pie John handed him. Since their older bruder had gotten married, he felt like he’d assumed that role with John. He wondered if David had ever felt it was a lot of responsibility looking out for his younger brothers.
“I guess you do. If you can’t get a ride, find a phone and call me.”
“I will. Thank you.” He made quick work of the pie. “I’ll try not to call you too late. Old men need their sleep.”
Sam wadded up his paper napkin and threw it at him. “Smart aleck.”
John caught the napkin and tossed it back. “See you later. Chuck’s picking me up at six.”
He waited until John walked out of the room to get up and get some ibuprofen from the kitchen cabinet. His muscles ached from the exertion of the day. It made him feel as old as John had teased him about being. He washed the pills down with the last of his iced tea, cleaned up the kitchen—John had conveniently forgotten he was supposed to help with such chores—and headed for the recliner his brother had vacated.
An evening in front of the television was about all he could manage tonight.
* * *
Mary Elizabeth patted her forehead with a paper napkin. The sun had gone down and a breeze was drifting in the screen door, but it was still hot work frying chicken.
But what was a picnic without it? While it fried she put together a big bowl of potato salad so it could go into the refrigerator to chill overnight. She’d tucked away several slices of buttermilk pound cake she’d baked for the family the day before and had a bowl of nice ripe strawberries sliced up and sugared for dessert.
She hoped Ben would like her fried chicken as much as the chicken he’d eaten at the restaurant on their first date.
“So this is for your picnic with Ben tomorrow?” Rose Anna asked as she walked into the kitchen.
Mary Elizabeth nodded.
Rose Anna leaned against the kitchen counter and smirked. “It’s not as gut as my fried chicken. Better hope Ben doesn’t ever get a taste of mine.”
She used tongs to transfer the chicken pieces to a plate lined with paper towels to drain them. Rose Anna picked up a piece of crust that lay on the towel and tasted it.
Mary Elizabeth smacked her fingers. “Stop that!”
“Needs a little salt,” Rose Anna told her as she strolled off. “We have to have that cook-off soon.”
Their mudder walked into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee. “What’s Rose Anna teasing you about this time?”
“She thinks her fried chicken is better than mine.”
“Your schweschder thinks everything is a competition.” She chuckled and shook her head. “It’s hard being the boppli of the family.”
“She’s hardly a boppli.”
> “Well, she’s the youngest, and she has to follow in the footsteps of her older schweschders. I was the boppli of the family, so I know.”
Her dat walked in. “Something schur smells gut in here.”
“You can’t possibly be hungry after all that supper you ate,” Linda told him.
“Which piece do you want?” Mary Elizabeth asked him with a fond smile.
“Maybe a wing?”
She got a plate and placed a wing on it.
“Why are you frying chicken now?” he asked as he blew on it to cool it.
“It’s for a picnic tomorrow. Do you want a little potato salad to go with it?”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
“I’ll get it,” Linda said. She got the bowl from the refrigerator and doled out a small spoonful.
“Don’t be stingy,” he said, guiding her hand and making her serve him another spoonful.
She chuckled. “You’ll get fat.”
“He works too hard for that,” Mary Elizabeth told her.
“Don’t you go offering him dessert,” her mudder said.
“There’s dessert?”
“Nee,” Mary Elizabeth said with a straight face.
She watched her mudder walk over to the refrigerator to put the potato salad inside, caught her dat’s eye, nodded, and jerked her head at the plastic container on the counter.
“I know what you’re doing,” Linda said without turning around.
“Who?” Mary Elizabeth said, trying to sound innocent.
“Woman’s got eyes in the back of her head,” Jacob muttered as he lifted a forkful of potato salad to his mouth.
Mary Elizabeth had always been a very well behaved kind—well, mostly. There was that one time when she and Rose Anna had had words and gotten into a little hair-pulling when they were eight and seven. But her dat was right. Her mamm schur did know what was going on at all times even when her back was turned.
She gave her dat a sympathetic look and he shrugged.
Rose Anna drifted into the kitchen, and her eyes went wide when she saw her dat nibbling on the chicken wing. Her glance shot to Mary Elizabeth.
“Are you trying to influence Daed about your chicken?”
“What?” He looked at her, puzzled.
Seasons in Paradise Page 8
