It had been a gut day.
And Peter made it even better when he had him stop at a small farm.
“The Fisher place,” he said. “Did you hear Elias died?”
“I did.”
“His fraa moved to Ohio to be near her dochder. Sam, the farm is up for sale. The bishop is helping arrange things for her. He gave me the key so we could look at it. So you could look at it, Sam.”
Feeling a little dazed, Sam shut off the engine, got out of the truck, and followed him up the walk to the front door.
* * *
“I schur wish cold weather would get here,” Mary Elizabeth said as they sewed on their quilts in the sewing room. “Even sewing holiday quilts isn’t helping me feel cooler.”
She got up and walked over to the window. “I know I complain about the cold, but right now I’d take a blizzard.”
“You want to go for ice cream?” Rose Anna asked, looking up with a distracted air. She’d been trying to piece a new quilt pattern for hours. “Go get Grossdaadi. He’s always ready for ice cream.”
“Nee, no ice cream now,” their mudder said with a chuckle. She glanced at the clock on the wall and set down a quilt she’d been sewing. “It’s time for lunch.”
“I’ll help,” Mary Elizabeth said. She was nearly done with her quilt.
They went down to the kitchen. Linda made sandwiches and Mary Elizabeth cut up peaches, strawberries, and melon for a fruit salad. Who wanted something hot on such a warm day?
That reminded her that Sam was coming to supper.
“What shall I make for supper?” she asked her mudder.
Linda looked up from the sandwich makings and smiled. “Whatever you like.”
Mary Elizabeth went to the refrigerator and examined the contents. “I’d love just a big salad, but I don’t suppose the men would be content with that,” she mused.
She remembered Ben’s comment about fried chicken and frowned. There was chicken and hamburger in the freezer behind big packages of vegetables and fruit they’d chosen to freeze rather than can. Hmm.
“What do you think of using the hamburger for haystacks with a big pan of baked beans and corn on the cob on the side? I don’t know about you, but I can’t get enough corn on the cob this time of year.”
“Sounds good. We have plenty of ripe tomatoes and some lettuce for the haystacks.”
Mary Elizabeth set the ground beef out to thaw, got out a couple of cans of pork and beans and a package of bacon. She stirred some brown sugar and mustard into the beans and poured them into a baking dish. Then she topped them with several slices of bacon. She’d have to heat the oven, but they were going back upstairs to sew after lunch. Blackberry cobbler could bake toward the end of the time for the beans. Done.
Her mudder set the table, then called upstairs for Rose Anna. She turned to Mary Elizabeth. “Why don’t you get Grossdaadi while I pour some iced tea?”
She nodded and walked over to knock on the door to the dawdi haus. When he didn’t answer, she opened the door and ventured inside cautiously. He was known for napping during the day, but she heard him talking. Was it possible a friend had stopped by to see him? The dawdi haus had a separate entrance. She found him sitting in the recliner he loved in the small living room, sound asleep, his wire-rimmed glasses half-on, half-off his nose. He was talking in his sleep and gesturing with his hands as if he was eating.
“Miriam, you make the best pot roast in Lancaster County,” he was saying, as he appeared to be eating. “I hope there’s pie for dessert. I love your pie. Doesn’t matter what kind. Any kind of pie my fraa makes is the best.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. In his dreams he was sharing a meal with the woman he’d been married to for so long. She turned and went to get her mudder.
“Mamm, come see.”
Linda paled. “Oh no, don’t tell me something’s wrong with him.”
“Nee, nee, he’s fine. Look.” She watched as her mudder stepped into the room and saw Grossdaadi talking in his sleep. They both listened for a few minutes. He was still “eating” and complimenting his fraa in his dreams.
“Let’s not wake him,” her mudder said, taking her hand and leading her from the room. They tiptoed out, and Linda shut the door. “Let him sleep a while. It’s his chance to be with Miriam.”
Mary Elizabeth pulled two paper napkins from a holder on the table and handed her one. She wiped her own eyes. “He misses her so.”
Rose Anna walked into the room and frowned. “What’s the matter?” Her gaze went to the door to the dawdi haus. “Is Grossdaadi allrecht?”
Linda nodded. “He’s fine.” She told her what they’d just witnessed, and Rose Anna’s expression turned sad. “Maybe we can take a ride later and get him some ice cream.”
“Sam’s coming for supper. Grossdaadi mentioned him and said he missed playing checkers with him. Sam said he’d love to come and play a game or two with him.”
“He liked Sam.” She glanced at the table. “I’ll go get Daed.”
They were halfway through lunch when the door to the dawdi haus opened and Abe shuffled out.
“Grossdaadi, we didn’t want to wake you,” Mary Elizabeth said.
“I was just resting my eyes,” he told her as he took a seat at the table.
Linda chuckled. “You were sound asleep.”
“Just resting my eyes.” He bent his head to say a blessing for the meal then took a sandwich and placed it on his plate. His expression brightened when Rose Anna handed him a small bowl of the fruit salad.
“Grossdaadi, Sam’s coming to supper tonight,” Mary Elizabeth said. “He said he’d love to play checkers with you.”
“Gut, Gut.”
“I told him not to let you cheat.”
He pretended to look offended. “I never cheat.”
“You always cheat,” her dat said with a grin.
“Only because you do,” he retorted. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses.
“Just for that I’ll play a game with you before I go back to work.”
“You’re on!”
But Grossdaadi seemed in no hurry. He chewed his sandwich slowly, and her dat was rolling his eyes as Abe then savored each bite of fruit salad with a pleasure that seemed exaggerated. Finally Jacob got up, fetched the checkerboard, and put it on the table.
The women cleared the table, leaving the two men having a mock argument over the board, and returned to the sewing room to work.
“Wonder who’ll win?” Rose Anna said as she went back to piecing her new quilt pattern.
“Grossdaadi will,” Mary Elizabeth told her as she studied the pattern. “He always does.”
Rose Anna grinned. “Only because he cheats better than Daed.”
Mary Elizabeth laughed. “Well, Sam knows about Grossdaadi.”
13
Mary Elizabeth heard the knock on the door and went to answer it. She said a silent prayer hoping it was Sam.
The last thing she needed was Ben stopping by unannounced.
Schur enough it was Sam carrying a bunch of daisies. “I brought these for your mudder.”
“Why, Sam, that was so sweet!” Linda said behind Mary Elizabeth.
“Just a thank-you for all the meals you’ve cooked and invited me to share over the years,” he told her as he stepped inside.
“Actually, Mary Elizabeth cooked tonight, but I’ll share,” her mudder said.
Jacob stood and dropped his copy of The Budget, the Amish newspaper, into his recliner, shook Sam’s hand, and followed them into the kitchen.
Grossdaadi was already seated at the table, and his grin was wide when he saw Sam. “There you are!”
“Good to see you,” Sam told him as he rounded the table to shake his hand. “I hear you want a game of checkers.”
“Ya. You think you can beat me?”
“I schur do.”
“We’ll see about that. I trounced Jacob here in both games today.”
“He cheats,” Jacob mouth
ed behind the old man’s head.
Linda beamed at Sam as she arranged the daisies in a white ceramic pitcher and set it in the middle of the table.
Sam took a seat after the women did. Jacob asked Abe to bless the meal, and Sam thought about how he had faltered for a time, thinking God had turned His back on him when he had to leave his home.
Rose Anna peppered him with questions about his life outside the community until her dat frowned at her.
“I missed this!” Sam exclaimed when he realized what they were having for supper. Haystacks were an Amish favorite at all sorts of gatherings, especially fundraisers. A bowl of crushed soda crackers made its way around the table. Each person dumped a handful or two on his or her plate, then a mound of browned hamburger mixed with taco seasoning, chopped lettuce and tomato, and green pepper and onion fresh from the garden. A couple spoonsful of rice, grated cheddar cheese, and Sam’s favorite—homemade salsa—and it was a haystack of edible delight.
He sighed happily as he dug into it. What could have been better on a hot summer night than this dish he remembered eating at so many special occasions in his youth?
His dat had growled at his mudder once when she served it. “Man doesn’t want a salad after working all day in the fields,” he’d complained. But the dish was hearty enough with all the ground beef and such. And his mudder had helped them harvesting in the fields and had hardly had time to come inside and slave over a hot stove afterward.
“Is it allrecht?” Mary Elizabeth asked him, and he realized he’d been frowning.
“Perfect,” he said, looking up and smiling at her. “I remember having this at so many youth gatherings. Remember when Naomi Rose’s mudder added too much taco seasoning in the hamburger?”
She laughed and nodded. “We drained two pitchers of lemonade that day.”
Their gazes locked, held as they both remembered that day. The clink of silverware, the family talking as they ate, faded away.
Mary Elizabeth didn’t know how long they might have sat there staring at each other. Her mudder tapped her on her arm. “This was such a gut idea. Look how your grossdaadi is cleaning his plate.”
They looked at him and he grinned and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Miriam and I had this in Pinecraft last year when we went there for the winter. Hundreds of people showed up. Don’t remember what they were raising money for, but everyone schur did like having a taste of home.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “She schur did like being in Florida and visiting the beach when it was cold and snowing back here.”
He set his fork on his empty plate and craned his neck to see what was on top of the stove. “Is that blackberries I smell?”
Mary Elizabeth smiled at him. “Ya. Blackberry cobbler.”
“Do we have ice cream?”
Linda laughed. “Of course.”
“I’ll get it,” Rose Anna said.
Mary Elizabeth rose, pulled on oven mitts, and carried the still warm baking dish to the table.
Sam cleaned his plate and watched as she scooped up generous servings of the cobbler and passed the bowls to Linda so she could top them with vanilla ice cream.
The taste of the warm berries on his tongue brought back another memory. He and Mary Elizabeth had gone blackberry picking after a picnic once. They’d seen the wild berries growing alongside the road, and he’d stopped his buggy so they could climb out and pick them. The two of them had eaten more of the sun-warmed berries than they’d put in a bucket he got from the buggy.
That day he’d dared to kiss her. They’d both been so young, and the kiss had been innocent. The taste of her lips had been sweeter than the ripe berries.
Once again, their gazes locked, and he watched a blush creep up her cheeks.
She remembered.
Suddenly the room felt too warm, too close. Sam wanted to pull his collar away from his neck. He concentrated on the cooling ice cream and told himself he couldn’t do this again. This family, this home, had been his family and his home away from the troubled one where his dat berated everyone and his mudder pretended nothing was wrong.
And Mary Elizabeth belonged to someone else now. He’d practically thrust her into Ben’s path. He’d been crazy for sure.
Finally the meal was over, and the family went their separate ways: Rose Anna to do more work on a quilt pattern she said was challenging her, Linda and Jacob to sit on the porch and talk, Mary Elizabeth to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. Abe grinned at him.
“You ready for that game?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Mary Elizabeth pressed a hand on her grossdaadi’s shoulder. “I’ll get the board.”
In the end, Sam played four games with Abe and overlooked his cheating. He was just not able to hold it against him when he was such a friendly old man who remembered him and asked if he’d come play a game with him.
He lingered, accepting another glass of iced tea from Mary Elizabeth, until Abe nodded over a game. “I win,” he said, and Abe woke and blinked at him. “What?”
Then he glanced down at the checkerboard and chuckled as he stroked his snowy beard. “Guess it’s time to go to bed,” he said and got to his feet a bit creakily. “Danki for coming to play checkers with me, Sam.”
He turned to Mary Elizabeth. “So glad you’re seeing him again.”
Mary Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed as she watched him walk to the dawdi haus. She turned to Sam. “I’m so sorry, he misunderstood. He’s half asleep—”
Sam plucked a daisy from the vase on the table and handed it to her. “I’m not sorry he said it. I’m sorry I walked away from you. I wish there was a way to turn back the clock and change everything. Good night, Mary Elizabeth. Thank you for inviting me to supper.”
He saw the expression of utter shock that flashed over her face before he walked out of the room.
On the way home, he passed the Fisher place, the farm that Peter had shown him after they met the new homeowners at their house. Dusk was falling. The Fisher farmhouse was small and the fields around it lay fallow. But it was a good, sturdy house, and the soil was rich.
There had been Fishers there for generations but no more. Sarah Fisher had packed up and moved to Ohio to be closer to her dochder and grossdochders who lived there. The Amish stayed planted where they were most times, but the dochder had fallen in love with a distant cousin in Ohio, and after her dat died, her mudder had decided to move there to be closer to her, Peter had told him.
The thought of buying the place was a temptation Sam was afraid to even think about. Land was a precious commodity here in Lancaster County. But he’d promised Peter he’d talk to the widow by phone the next day. He’d learned not to underestimate God. Hadn’t his mudder often told him that God’s plan for him was better than anything he could envision?
He’d never thought he’d be invited into Mary Elizabeth’s home again and then she’d come to him and asked him to supper. As he drove home he thought about what it had felt like to be near her and be a part of a family again tonight. And as he took the familiar road he prayed for guidance for the one true path for his life.
* * *
Mary Elizabeth sank into a chair at the table and stared at Sam’s back as he left the kitchen.
Had she lost her mind? Had he really just said he wished there was a way to turn back the clock and change everything? Maybe she was asleep, as Grossdaadi had been over the checkerboard. Maybe she was dreaming. She pinched herself and winced. Nee, she was awake.
“What are you doing?” Rose Anna asked, frowning with concern at her.
She glanced up, surprised that she hadn’t heard her walk into the kitchen. “I have to break up with Ben.”
“Gut!” she said as she got a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator.
“I thought you liked Ben.”
“Not really. And it’s obvious from the way the two of you were looking at each other tonight that you and Sam still love each other.”
“He didn’t say he loved
me.” She stared down at the daisy he’d handed her, telling herself that she would not pull off petals. He loves me, he loves me not.
Rose Anna got glasses from a kitchen cabinet and poured them both a glass of iced tea. “What did he say?”
She related the conversation and shook her head. “I didn’t know what to say. But he didn’t wait around for an answer.”
“So what are you going to do about Sam?”
“I have no idea.” She looked at her schweschder. “He said he was sorry, but he didn’t say he wanted to get back together.” She took a deep breath. “But whether I think we’ll get back together or not, I don’t want to see Ben anymore. I . . . well, I’m sorry to say that the more I know him, the less I like him.”
“Then you shouldn’t see him anymore,” Rose Anna said with the wisdom of someone much older. “Are there any more chocolate chip cookies?”
Mary Elizabeth stared at her, unable to absorb the lightning switch in topics. “What?”
“Never mind, I’ll see,” she said, jumping up to check the cookie jar. She pulled out a cookie and crunched into it. “Want one?”
“Nee, danki.”
Their mudder came into the kitchen and shook her head at Rose Anna. “Into the cookie jar again?”
“First time today.” She took another bite. “Well, second. It’s my last.”
Cookies were Rose Anna’s downfall. Fortunately, she never gained an ounce from them.
Mary Elizabeth looked at her mudder. “Mamm, if Ben comes around again, don’t invite him to supper, allrecht?”
Linda nodded slowly. “And what about Sam?”
She smiled. “Definitely invite Sam.”
“Gut. I’ll tell your dat so he doesn’t invite Ben again.” She poured herself a glass of cold tea and left the room.
“I’m going to bed.”
“We’re going to the open house at the new shop, right?” Rose Anna grabbed another cookie from the jar and followed her up the stairs.
“Ya, of course.”
“Peter told me he and Sam’ll be there.”
Mary Elizabeth thought about that as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom and got ready for bed. Well, so she’d be seeing him sooner than she’d thought she might. That was fine.
Seasons in Paradise Page 15
