Seasons in Paradise

by Cameron, Barbara;

  Still there was change here . . . the season, her relationship with Sam. But when she walked into her home, she felt the continuity. The unity. The welcome and the love.

  “Back from class already?” her mudder asked as she stirred a pot of soup on the stove.

  “Ya. I’m starving.”

  “Where’s Rose Anna?”

  “Talking with Daed. They’ll be right in.” She walked over to put her arms around her mudder’s waist.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Just because I love you.”

  Linda chuckled and turned to hug her. “I love you too, kind.”

  “I got a surprise for Grossdaadi.” She pulled the gallon of apple cider from the bag and set it on the table.

  “Oh, he loves cider. Why don’t you go call him for lunch?”

  She pulled off her shawl, hung it up, and walked over to the door to the dawdi haus and knocked. No answer. She glanced over at her mudder. “Maybe he’s taking a nap.”

  “He needs to eat. Doctor said he was losing weight when I took him in for a checkup last week.”

  Mary Elizabeth did as she asked and walked in and found Grossdaadi lying on the floor and groaning as he clutched his chest. She yelled over her shoulder for her mudder and rushed to kneel at his side.

  Her mudder rushed in and knelt beside him.

  “Chest—hurts,” he gasped.

  “Go call 911,” Linda told Mary Elizabeth.

  She ran for the phone shanty, made the call, and then raced to the barn to alert her dat. A short time later she stood with Rose Anna in the drive and watched the ambulance leave with Grossdaadi and Daed.

  “I called the driver, and he’ll be here in a few minutes,” Linda came to stand with them. “I’ll call you later. There’s soup on the stove for lunch and—”

  “Don’t worry about us,” Mary Elizabeth said. “We’ll pray for Grossdaadi.”

  “He looked in so much pain,” Linda said, pulling a tissue from her purse to wipe away her tears. “But the paramedics said he’s breathing on his own and that’s a gut sign.”

  “He’ll be back before we know it, drinking his cider,” Rose Anna assured her as she rubbed her mudder’s back.

  Mary Elizabeth smiled at her schweschder for her reassurance.

  Linda clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh my, I don’t remember if I turned off the stove!”

  “I’ll go make sure. If the car comes for you before I get back, remember to call us when you hear how Grossdaadi is,” Mary Elizabeth said. “And don’t worry, Mamm. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  “I’ve never seen Mamm scared,” Rose Anna said a few minutes later when she walked inside.

  “I know. That was nice, what you said to Mamm.”

  Rose Anna looked at her, surprised. “I just told her not to worry.”

  Mary Elizabeth didn’t know how to tell her that it had been gut to see her look past herself to someone else’s feelings. “Want some soup?”

  “Nee. Not hungry.”

  “Me either.” Mary Elizabeth searched in a kitchen cupboard for plastic containers and then ladled the soup into them. She’d keep one big container in the refrigerator for her parents to have when they came home from the hospital and freeze the others. It would be gut to have soup that could be defrosted and warmed up now that the weather was cooler.

  The wait seemed to last forever. They got the quilts they were working on from the sewing room and sat in the living room and sewed. Then they took turns checking for messages on the answering machine in the phone shanty. This was one day when Mary Elizabeth wished for a cell phone like other Amish she knew.

  Sam dropped by after work. “You look surprised to see me. Did you forget I was coming by?”

  She grimaced. “Sorry, I did.” She explained what had happened to Grossdaadi.

  “Do you want to go to the hospital? I can take you.”

  Mary Elizabeth and Rose Anna exchanged looks. “Ya!” they said at the same time.

  “We just need to get our purses,” Rose Anna told him.

  “Wait, we could take some sandwiches and coffee,” Mary Elizabeth said. “Mamm and Daed didn’t have a chance to eat lunch and it’s almost suppertime.”

  “I’ll wait in the truck.” He turned back. “Should I go feed and water the stock?”

  She hadn’t thought of that yet. “Ya, danki, Sam.”

  They hurried to the kitchen. While coffee was percolating on the stove, they made ham and cheese sandwiches for all of them, including Sam, and wrapped cookies. When the coffee was ready, they poured it into a Thermos and packed everything in a canvas tote.

  Sweaters went on, purses were grabbed along with the tote, and after locking the doors, they were off.

  Sam dropped them at the entrance to the emergency room and went to park the pickup truck. Mary Elizabeth and Rose Anna hurried inside. Their parents were surprised to see them and grateful for the food and coffee. They hadn’t been willing to leave the emergency room waiting area until they heard about Grossdaadi. “They’re still running tests,” their mudder explained.

  Sam appeared and at first tried to refuse a sandwich and some coffee and then relented when he saw they had plenty. “I missed lunch today. Had to make an important phone call.” He bit into his sandwich and didn’t elaborate.

  Finally the doctor, a tired looking man, came out. He was the youngest looking doctor Mary Elizabeth had ever seen. He told them that Grossdaadi most likely had experienced an angina attack—an episode of heart pain, he explained. They’d keep him that night for observation and if everything went as he thought it would, Grossdaadi could go home the next morning.

  “You know, we see this often when an elderly person loses a spouse,” he said kindly. “They truly do feel their heart is broken. They feel pain and it feels physical, not just emotional to them.” He paused. “Sometimes, quite honestly, they want to go on and be with that spouse. But I think he’s going to be fine. You should go on home and we’ll call you if there’s any change. Otherwise, we’ll see you in the morning when you come to pick him up.”

  Relieved, her parents thanked the doctor who told them that a nurse would be out to take them to see Grossdaadi for a few minutes before they left.

  “I should call the driver,” Linda said.

  “I could take Mary Elizabeth and Rose Anna home then come back for you,” Sam offered.

  “Oh, but that’s too much trouble,” her dat said.

  “No trouble at all,” he assured them. “I’ll be back soon and see you at the emergency entrance.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you,” Mary Elizabeth told him as they walked to the parking lot.

  “No trouble at all. I’m happy to help.”

  He drove them home and touched her arm as she went to slide out of the truck when he pulled into the driveway and stopped. “Can I stop by tomorrow evening after work?”

  “Of course,” she said, frowning as she looked at him. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head quickly. “I just want to talk.”

  “Come to supper.”

  “Danki, but I just want to be with you. We can go for a drive, get something to eat somewhere where we can talk without anyone around.”

  “Schur.” She wanted to press him now, but he needed to get back to the hospital for her parents. “See you tomorrow. And Sam? Danki.”

  17

  I had no idea that people could die of heartbreak,” Rose Anna said as she made herself comfortable in the chair in Mary Elizabeth’s room.

  Mary Elizabeth undid her bun and brushed out her hair, feeling almost too tired to perform the nightly ritual. Rose Anna still bubbled with energy. She’d changed into a nightgown, brushed her teeth and hair, and now sat there talking up a storm like usual instead of going to her own room.

  “The doctor didn’t say they actually die of heartbreak,” Mary Elizabeth reminded her. “They feel pain in their heart like it’s real.”

  “Same difference.”

/>   “Huh?”

  “You know what I mean.” She rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. “Did you feel that way when Sam left?”

  Her hand halted midstroke. “Ya,” she said slowly. “Exactly like that. Like my heart stopped beating, like something was sitting on my chest.” She put the brush down on her bedside table.

  “Me, too. I thought I was going to die when John left.” She sighed melodramatically. “Now I’m still upset. But it’s pretty nice having Peter interested in me.”

  “You’re not just flirting with him?”

  “Nee, I like him.” She sat up. “Was that the front door? I think it was the front door.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and was out of the room like a shot.

  Mary Elizabeth slid under her quilt. Her parents would stop by her room to say good night so she didn’t have to summon up the energy to go downstairs like Rose Anna. She grimaced. Was she tired or getting old? She smiled at the thought. No, just tired from the strain of the day. She knew all was in God’s hands. Phoebe, Jenny Bontrager’s grossmudder and one of Mary Elizabeth’s favorite people in the community, often said worry was arrogant . . . that God knew what He was doing. But sometimes it was hard not to worry and stress while something like Grossdaadi’s scary time was going on.

  She lay there thinking about what Rose Anna had said. Yes, she had thought her heart was broken when Sam left the community with his bruders. Amazingly, it had kept beating, and she’d put one foot in front of the other and gotten through the first few days, then the first few months. She’d gone on when she hadn’t thought she could, but the days passed with the speed of molasses being poured. The year had felt endless.

  Then he’d come back to help David with the farm and gradually they’d started seeing each other. She still didn’t know where it might lead, but she realized that she was feeling more hope these past few weeks. And now, in the quiet of her room, she wondered what he wanted to talk to her about tomorrow. He’d been so serious, so intent about asking her to go out with him, away from family.

  She couldn’t wait for the next day to come.

  Her mudder came in the room a few minutes later to tell her how Grossdaadi was doing. He’d grumbled about staying but agreed it was for the best. Her mudder and dat would be picking him up the next day, and he said he was looking forward to sampling the first cider of the season. Mary Elizabeth smiled at that. Simple things were pleasures at times.

  Her dat stopped in to say good night and said he was grateful for the help Sam had been, driving them all home and best of all, taking care of the evening feeding and watering of the stock. It was a worry off his mind, he said.

  “Sam’s a gut man.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but he wasn’t one to do that, especially if it was about something personal. So he said good night and with her mudder went off to their room.

  Mary Elizabeth snuggled under her quilt and listened to the sound of the wind rustling the bare branches of the tree outside her window. She felt tired, but her mind was awhirl with questions about what Sam had to say. Reading didn’t help. Turning off her bedside battery-powered lamp darkened the room but didn’t summon sleep.

  So she turned the lamp on again and got out of bed to fetch the gifts she was making for Christmas. It was so hard to find uninterrupted time to sew or knit in a busy house, so often she had to retire early to her room and work on them. She had decided to make a nice navy woolen muffler for her dat. It would keep him warm when he did chores on cold winter days.

  She left the gifts she was making for her mudder and schweschders in the wooden box for now. Lavina was getting a new sweater in her favorite color—a dark hunter green. She’d cut out the fabric for a tote for Rose Anna to carry her sewing project to the quilt class. It was safely tucked under her mattress. Several times Rose Anna had been caught looking for her gifts before Christmas.

  David was a dilemma. She’d have to do some more thinking about what to make for him, maybe ask Lavina for suggestions.

  Her favorite gift, one she hadn’t started yet, was easy and going to be so much fun. She was going to make a quilt for her very first niece or nephew.

  She couldn’t wait.

  The house was so quiet. The only sound was the clacking of her knitting needles as the muffler grew and grew. When she dropped several stitches, she finally had to acknowledge it was time to give up and hope she could fall asleep. She put the gifts back into the box and hid it in her closet and padded back to her bed. As she snuggled under the warmth of her quilt, she said a prayer of thanks for the good news that Grossdaadi wasn’t ill as they’d thought. They’d be bringing him home tomorrow and hope that with their love and reassurance he’d grieve less for Grossmudder. They’d all always miss her but believing she was home with God helped when she missed her. She had to hope that Grossdaadi wouldn’t continue to miss her so much he’d want to go home and be with her and God, too.

  Maybe it was because she’d worked on gifts for her family she dreamed of Christmas that night.

  She woke at dawn. Christmas Day! She might be grown-up now, not a kind, but she felt the same excitement that the day was here just as she had all her life.

  She pulled on her robe and slid her feet into her slippers. A quick brush of her hair and she was flying down the stairs to join her family. Her mudder and dat were in the kitchen enjoying a cup of coffee. Rose Anna was slow to get moving nearly every morning and so far today Christmas wasn’t an exception, but as Mary Elizabeth poured herself a cup of tea, she heard her schweschder’s footsteps in the bedroom above the kitchen.

  Sometimes Englischers said the Amish didn’t celebrate Christmas very much. They didn’t put up trees, didn’t have electric lights strung on the outside of the house, and oh my, no Santa? But the inside of their house smelled of evergreens draped on the mantel of the fireplace and Mamm loved lighting candles with the scents of bayberry, cinnamon, and vanilla. And no Santa? There was always Grossdaadi with his snowy hair and beard, his glasses perched low on his nose, sitting in the chair by the fireplace reading the story of the night Jesus was born, and that was better.

  Mary Elizabeth had always thought the celebrations of both Amish and Englisch were just perfect for each of them.

  And this year, the Christmas of some women at the shelter was going to be brighter because of the new shop.

  She smiled in her dreams and snuggled deeper under her quilt as the cold wind rattled the panes of her bedroom window.

  * * *

  Today was the day.

  Sam had decided he couldn’t keep seeing Mary Elizabeth and not tell her what was going on in his life—not if he wanted to have a life with her.

  When he pulled into her driveway, he found his hands were damp on the steering wheel. He knew he was being silly. But it wasn’t every day a man told the woman he loved that he wanted a life with her.

  Mary Elizabeth walked out immediately, so she must have been watching for him. She gave him a shy smile as she climbed into the pickup truck. “Gut-n-owed. Did you have a gut day?”

  He nodded. “You?”

  “The best,” she said as she fastened her seat belt. “Grossdaadi came home. He’s feeling much better.”

  “I’m glad. Tell him I’m ready to beat him at checkers whenever he’s ready.”

  “I will.”

  He pulled out onto the road and drove in the direction of the farm. “I have someplace I want to show you. I’ve been meaning to for a while.”

  “Allrecht.”

  When he pulled into the driveway of the Fisher farm a few minutes later, she glanced at him curiously.

  “What do you think of it?” he asked, sure she could hear his heart thumping in his chest as he waited for her answer.

  “It looks sad.”

  “Sad?” That didn’t sound good. “I know it needs paint and fixing up. It’s sat empty since Sarah moved to be with her daughter in Ohio.”

  “S
ad because the family’s no longer there,” she said quickly. “It needs a family to love it and care for it.”

  “Could you love it?” he asked, looking at her. “Could you care for it?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She stared at him, puzzled.

  “I’ve talked to Sarah about buying it. I asked her if she could hold the loan and I could pay her each month, with interest, instead of me trying to get a loan from the bank. It would help me, and she’d earn the interest so she’d make more money. She just wouldn’t get it all at once. This agricultural agent with the county helps Amish farmers figure things out. He suggested it.”

  He wiped his palms on his pants. “She said she’d think about it. I wasn’t going to talk about it with you until I found out, but Peter said I should.”

  “I see,” she said slowly. “What are you telling me, Sam?”

  Taking a deep breath, he reached for her hand. “I love you and I want to marry you, have a family with you. Live out our lives here on this farm. And if I can’t buy this one, then I’ll find a way to buy another or a house and keep doing construction.”

  He watched her eyes widen and her mouth fall open in surprise as he talked, and he almost lost his nerve.

  “I spoke to the bishop that day I went to church weeks ago,” he went on. If he didn’t get it all out right now, he was afraid he’d lose his nerve. “I’ve been taking classes to join the church.”

  Mary Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her mouth, then dropped them. “I had no idea. This is a lot to take in.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’m coming home.” He paused. “What do you say?”

  “Ya, of course I’ll marry you!” she cried. “I’ve loved you for so long, Sam Stoltzfus. I wondered if this day would ever come.”

  “We can get married after harvest if that’s not too soon for you.”

  “It’s not too soon.”

  “Gut. I don’t want to wait until next year.”