Seasons in Paradise

by Cameron, Barbara;

  “The community has been so good to my family, buying quilts and other things made by my granddaughters and others,” she said quietly. “They’ve supported our Amish community for many years as well as through mud sales and such. This is just our small way of helping others. We have some wonderful crafts here for bargain prices. I’m looking forward to our official opening later this week and hope we have a great turnout.”

  She waited until the woman finished writing and closed her notebook then invited her to help herself to refreshments.

  Kate glanced around, nodding and smiling hello at the women and children from the shelter. The reporter waved to her, and Kate waved back. “Excuse me, I promised to give her a few minutes” She hurried over to speak with the reporter.

  “Such a busy woman,” Mary Elizabeth told Leah. “I don’t know how she does all she does.”

  “It’s not easy for anyone to balance a family with work,” Leah said. Her eyes were on her grossdochders working in the Stitches in Time shop they could see through the entranceway Sam and Peter had made between the shops. One of their kinner slept in a cradle near them.

  Some of the women had noticed the entranceway as well. “Is it all right if we walk over there?” one of them asked.

  “Of course!” Leah responded. “I have some fabric set aside I thought I’d see if any of you would like.”

  “I need some thread,” Rose Anna said, and she deserted them.

  The word spread that they could visit the other shop—fabric! sewing supplies!—and the women drifted over until Mary Elizabeth and Kate and Pearl were the only ones left in Sewn in Hope.

  “We may not get them back on the bus,” Pearl said with a chuckle.

  But the time came that they had to board the bus and return to the shelter. “Maybe we can come back again one day,” she said and walked over to round everyone up to leave.

  The ride back to the shelter was surprisingly quiet. It wasn’t an unhappy silence, though. The women just looked a little . . . stunned was the best way Mary Elizabeth could describe it.

  “Are they okay?” she quietly asked Pearl, who sat in between her and Rose Anna. “No one’s talking.”

  “Some of these women haven’t had enough reason to be proud of themselves,” Pearl said. “They’ve had husbands and boyfriends beat down their confidence and self-esteem for so long. Today showed them they could be productive, could make some money, not just enjoy sewing or anything else as a hobby.” She patted Mary Elizabeth’s hand. “It was a very good thing.”

  “I remember the first time I saw my quilts displayed for sale in Stitches in Time,” she said slowly. “I was . . . awed.”

  Pearl opened the bag with the Stitches in Time logo. “Look what I bought in Leah’s shop.”

  The framed sampler was of a tiny quilt with stitching that read, “When life gives you scraps, make a quilt.” She grinned. “I thought I’d hang it in the sewing room.”

  Mary Elizabeth had enjoyed a comfortable life with loving parents, a home that provided security, and a job getting to be creative and work at her own pace at home. She sent up a prayer of thanks to God as the bus pulled into the shelter parking lot. Then she turned to Rose Anna.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

  12

  I wonder why Peter and Sam weren’t there today.”

  Mary Elizabeth glanced over at Rose Anna. “I expect they had to work.”

  “But it was a special day.”

  “For the women. For Peter and Sam it was more a job.”

  Rose Anna shrugged. “I still thought they’d be there.”

  “Maybe they will be for opening day.” Mary Elizabeth hesitated, then plunged ahead. “About the other day—”

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Rose Anna burst out.

  “You do?” She kept her tone mild and stared straight ahead at the road.

  “Ya. Now I’m going to get a lecture about whatever you think you saw when you walked in on Peter and me in the storeroom.”

  “What do I think I saw?”

  “We weren’t kissing.”

  “That’s gut.”

  “We weren’t touching either.”

  “Allrecht.”

  “I do know how to behave.” Rose Anna folded her arms across her chest. “And you’re not my mudder.”

  “Nee, I’m not. I’m your schweschder, and I’m just concerned about you.”

  “Are you going to say something to Mamm?”

  Mary Elizabeth took a deep breath and then shook her head.

  “It’s all John’s fault.”

  A car passed the buggy. Mary Elizabeth concentrated on it until it was safely past and ahead of them on the road. “It is?”

  “I could be so happy if John would just cooperate with God’s will.”

  “Oh?”

  “If he’d just realize he’s the man God set aside for me, I wouldn’t have even looked at Peter.”

  What could she say to that? Their street was coming up soon. She only had a few minutes. “If John doesn’t believe he is, if he doesn’t want to be with you, then you can’t do anything.”

  “You think I don’t know that? Why do you think I decided to start seeing someone else?” She glanced out her window at the passing scenery.

  “As long as you’re not just seeing Peter as a substitute for John.”

  Rose Anna turned in her seat to look at her. “I’m not. I’ve always liked Peter.”

  Mary Elizabeth hoped she was telling the truth. Rose Anna had certainly flirted with him the last few times they’d been together. She hoped her schweschder wasn’t using him as salve for her ego. Rose Anna’s ego had taken a beating when John told her he didn’t want to be with her.

  Mary Elizabeth saw a buggy parked in front of their house when she pulled into the driveway of their house.

  “Who is it?” Rose Anna asked, craning her head to see.

  Mary Elizabeth’s heart sank when she saw Ben sitting on the front porch with their dat. “Ben.”

  “Did you know he was going to be here?” Rose Anna asked as they got out of the buggy at the barn and began unhitching their horse.

  “Nee.”

  “You don’t look happy.”

  “I wasn’t expecting him. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

  “Why don’t you go on in? I’ll finish here.”

  “You’re schur?”

  “Ya.”

  Mary Elizabeth smoothed the skirt of her dress and went in the back door. “Hi, Mamm. How long has Ben been here?”

  “About half an hour,” she said, turning from the refrigerator with a bowl of butter. “He looked so disappointed you weren’t home yet that your dat invited him to supper.”

  “That was kind of you.” She set her purse down on the counter.

  Her mudder took a bowl of butter from the refrigerator and set it on the table. She studied her face. “Is there a problem? Should he not have invited him?”

  Mary Elizabeth realized she was too easy to read since both her schweschder and her mudder had guessed how she felt about Ben’s unexpected visit.

  “Nee, I’m just tired.”

  “Did you have fun going to the new store with the women from the shelter?”

  “I did. I’ll have to tell you about it later.”

  “Go let the men know supper’s ready.”

  She walked to the front of the house, opened the door, and summoned a smile. “Daed, Mamm says supper’s ready. Gut-n-owed, Ben.”

  He stood and walked toward her. “Gut-n-owed. Hope you don’t mind my stopping by.”

  “Of course not.” Now that he was giving her his charming grin and looking happy to see her, she realized she was glad he’d stopped by.

  “Your dat was kind enough to invite me to supper,” he said as he stepped into the house. He took a deep appreciative sniff as they approached the kitchen. “Something smells wonderful.”

  “Just a simple baked chicken,” Linda said, setti
ng a platter on the table. “It’s cooling down a bit, but it’s still too hot to cook much.”

  She turned to Rose Anna who’d come in from unhitching the buggy. “Would you go tell Grossdaadi supper’s ready? And don’t let him say he’s not hungry. He needs to eat.”

  Rose Anna returned with Grossdaadi. He said hello to everyone, took a seat, and ate. Not much but he ate. It just seemed to her that he was a pale shadow of himself, still going through the motions.

  Well, no one expected him to get over the loss of his fraa. There wasn’t any “getting over” someone anyway. She knew that from watching others and from what she’d gone through with Sam.

  Bowls of potato salad, corn on the cob, and cole slaw went around the table. Mary Elizabeth had enjoyed cookies at the shop so she wasn’t that hungry, but Ben’s appetite more than made up for hers.

  Once again, Ben and her dat talked so much about farming that the women found themselves having their own conversation. Grossdaadi didn’t contribute much to the conversation, but he was eating, Mary Elizabeth noted with satisfaction. Several times her mudder quietly urged him to have a second helping of his favorite—the potato salad.

  And several times, she noticed Grossdaadi watching Ben, but he didn’t engage him in conversation.

  “Baked chicken’s my second favorite way to eat chicken,” Ben told her when they walked outside to sit on the porch after dessert.

  “Oh?”

  “Fried’s best.”

  Maybe he didn’t mean it as a criticism of her mudder’s cooking. But she didn’t figure you should eat supper at someone’s table and act like what you were eating was somehow second.

  “Men don’t realize how hot it is standing over a stove in the summer,” she told him, trying to keep her voice level. “It’s a lot easier on the cook on a hot day to put the chicken in the oven and walk away while it bakes.”

  He stopped rocking and took a long look at her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

  She shrugged.

  “So I guess I better not ask when we can go for a picnic and have some of your wunderbaar fried chicken,” he teased.

  “Nee,” she said shortly.

  Then she felt bad. “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired. It was a long day. Long week. Harvesting the kitchen gardens here and at Lavina’s, my quilting work, and the new shop opening.”

  “You didn’t have to help at the shop,” he said. “Was Sam there?”

  She stood. “I need to help Rose Anna with the dishes.”

  To her relief, he left. She returned to the kitchen. Her grossdaadi still sat at the table, finishing a piece of pie.

  He looked up. “Whatever happened to Sam? I miss playing checkers with him.”

  She sat down. “He moved away from the community, into town, Grossdaadi. You remember I told you.”

  “Oh, ya, ya.” He sipped his coffee. “Well, if you ever see him, tell him I miss playing checkers with him.”

  “I will.” She glanced over at Rose Anna standing at the sink. Their gazes met and Rose Anna nodded. Getting up, Mary Elizabeth fetched the checkerboard. “I’ll play a game with you.”

  He grinned and pushed his empty pie plate aside.

  * * *

  Sam didn’t know what he liked better—depositing another check for the second job or going with Peter to do an estimate for another renovation.

  Both meant money in the bank, money he was saving for a place of his own. Oh, it would probably be one he shared with John until one of them got married. But it would be for a home, not a dingy little apartment they didn’t own and where the rent might go up every six months.

  He just didn’t know yet where that place would be . . . he’d left the Amish community when he and his dat couldn’t get along, but he hadn’t embraced the Englisch community like John and used the time for rumschpringe. Instead he’d lived the same kind of life as he had when he’d lived at home—working long hours, staying home most evenings.

  And he’d found himself increasingly being pulled back to the Amish community by friends like Peter and work for other Amish like Leah.

  “I have something to show you after we look over this place,” Peter said as Sam drove them to the location.

  “What?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I hate surprises,” Sam reminded him as he pulled into the driveway of the house Peter pointed out.

  “Tough.”

  “So where are the owners?”

  “Be patient. We’re a little early.” He relaxed against the seat. “So I wonder how it went at Leah’s shop yesterday. With the preview for the women from the shelter.”

  “Haven’t heard. Are we still going to stop in for a few minutes today? It’s the official opening day?”

  “Schur. Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Sam drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and considered the house. It looked . . . sad like it needed someone to help fix it up. The porch sagged, paint was peeling, and from what he could see of the roof, there was definitely a new one in its future.

  “What time is it?”

  “Five minutes later than the last time you asked. What’s your hurry? You got a hot date or something?”

  He snorted.

  A car pulled up, and a young Englisch couple climbed out.

  “I’m Randy Smith and this is my wife, Becky. And this is our new house we’re hoping we won’t come to refer to as the ‘money pit,’ ” he said, sticking out his hand to Sam, then Peter.

  Becky smacked him on his arm. “Don’t you dare call the house that.” She gave them a big smile. “I love this house. It just needs some love.” Turning, she climbed the stairs to the porch.

  Randy rubbed fingers together in a gesture to indicate spending money and quickly turned it into a wave when Becky jerked her head around. “We’re coming, honey,” he called.

  The four of them went into the house, a two-story that looked almost as bad inside as it did out. The husband walked around pointing out things that needed to be addressed and both Peter and Sam made notes. The wife drifted around and asked if a window seat could be added here and a French door out to the garden there.

  Sam figured this was what people meant when they said someone had stars in her eyes. She was in love with the place, and her husband regarded her indulgently but clearly had his mind set on the dollars they would have to spend.

  After they’d gone through the house, the man turned to Sam. “You’ve been quiet. What do you think?”

  “House has good bones.”

  He laughed and slapped Sam on the back. “A man of few words. I like it.” He turned to Peter. “Can we do this without breaking the bank?” he asked him, looking worried.

  “We’ll give you an estimate in a couple days, see what you think,” Peter told him. “You could take it in stages, fix the most urgent things you need to do to have a safe, comfortable place to live and work on the cosmetic things as you go.”

  “That would be great,” he said. “We’re staying with her parents while you do the work so if we could do the most important first . . .” Becky nodded and wandered off into the kitchen.

  “I want to make Becky happy,” he told them quietly. “You know, ‘happy wife, happy life’ like my dad used to say. But it’s taking a lot of money to buy the place.”

  “Property’s expensive in this county,” Sam agreed.

  “Tell me about it. Honey, time to go!” he called to his wife.

  She came into the room, a drift of cobwebs on her hair, dust on her hands. He brushed his hand over her head without remarking on the cobwebs, and they walked outside.

  Sam and Peter followed them out. The men shook hands. Becky reached into her purse and found a tissue for hers before she responded.

  “Glad we called you,” Randy said. “We’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

  “Don’t forget my window seat and those doors out to the back yard,” she reminded Sam and Peter.

  “We won’t,” Peter a
ssured her.

  Just as they drove off Sam saw a buggy coming down the road. When it drew closer, he thought he recognized the driver as she pulled over onto the grass in front of the house.

  “This is a surprise,” Mary Elizabeth called out.

  Sam walked over to her. “Gut-n-owed. Going home?”

  She nodded. “I was at the shelter for a couple of hours.”

  Peter joined them. “How did it go yesterday?”

  “Oh, I wish you both could have been there,” she said, visibly moved. “The women couldn’t believe it, and the kinner were so excited. It was such a joy to see them.”

  “That’s gut,” Sam said.

  “We’re stopping by for an hour or two now that we’re finished here,” Peter told her. He turned to Sam. “I’m going to get in the truck and make a call on my cell. Take your time.”

  “I’m glad I saw you here,” she said. “Grossdaadi asked about you. Said he missed playing checkers with you.”

  He grinned. “Really? I always liked him. How is he doing?”

  “Maybe you could stop by and see for yourself? Play a game or two after supper?”

  “Just tell me when.”

  “Is tomorrow too soon for you?”

  “As it happens I’m free.”

  “Gut. Then we’ll see you at the usual time.”

  “I’ll be there. And Mary Elizabeth? Thanks for asking me.”

  “You’re wilkumm. And don’t let Grossdaadi cheat.”

  His eyes widened. “Cheat?”

  She laughed at his dry tone. “You know he does. Gut-n-owed, Sam.”

  “Good night, Mary Elizabeth.”

  He watched her check for traffic and then pull back onto the road before he walked to his truck and climbed inside. Peter sat jotting notes on his clipboard as he spoke on his cell.

  Sam started the truck and drove Peter home. Tonight he would be eating some scraped-together meal with his brother John, but he could look forward to a delicious meal with Mary Elizabeth and her family tomorrow.

  The day had been long, one that sent you home with muscles that ached a little from hard work at the day job. Then he and Peter had met with a couple who’d probably give them their next job if he was any judge of character. And then he’d run into Mary Elizabeth and had her smile at him and invited him to supper and a friendly game or two of checkers with an old man who remembered him.