The Amish Widower

by Virginia Smith

  Apparently the Almighty did not see fit to hear my plea.

  “Your pain is no less, my Seth. I know that.”

  I nodded, grateful for the acknowledgment. Let her stop there.

  She laid a hand on my arm, an unusually intimate gesture for an Amish woman, and one that spoke to the depth of her compassion. “But you are young. You have more life ahead than behind you.”

  My feet itched inside my boots. I wanted to stand, to stride across the room and escape not only the caring touch upon my arm but the words I knew were coming.

  “Es ist nicht gut, daß der Mensch allein sei.”

  The quote from die Bibel wasn’t unexpected, but the stab of pain that accompanied it was. I shot to my feet and paced three long steps to the window, where I stood looking out at the unplowed field, white moonlight reflecting on the few patches of snow that remained. It is not good for man to be alone. How often had that verse replayed itself in my mind when loneliness clawed at my insides? But I’d come to the conclusion that the verse was written for other men, not for me.

  Without turning, I quoted another, one that I’d taken as my own. “Did not the apostle Paul say, To the unmarried and widows, it is good for them if they abide even as I?”

  “Ach.” A dim reflection in the glass showed me that Mammi had thrown up a hand in dismissal. “I’ll not enter a battle of verses with my own kinskind.”

  I hid a grin at the typical Mammi reaction. If she couldn’t win the battle one way, she would switch to another approach.

  “Besides, if I ever saw a man less like the apostle Paul, it is you.”

  I turned and fixed a teasing grin on her. “Should I be offended that you think so little of me?”

  “I only meant you should look elsewhere for your role model. Your namesake, for instance. A farmer who followed the Lord’s command to be fruitful and multiply.”

  She could not know how the words hurt, how they conjured images of my disastrous attempts to multiply. Therefore I answered in as gentle a voice as I could manage. “I do not intend to marry again. The Lord blessed me with two wives already.”

  I did not add my thought, And I caused both their deaths. Why would He entrust me with another?

  “You think the Lord’s blessings have limits?”

  She placed her hands on the edges of the wooden seat and heaved herself up. I was about to answer with a quick rejoinder when she wavered on her feet. Her hand flailed wildly behind her, landing on the high chair back, and she half turned to lean heavily upon it.

  I crossed the room in seconds and slid an arm around her waist. “Are you all right?”

  I searched her face. Was she paler than normal, or was that a trick of the dim light? There was no mistaking the trembling in her body, which felt frail and almost weightless within the circle of my arm.

  “Fine, fine.” She tried to wave off my concern with a weak gesture, but didn’t step away from the security of my arm. “I stood too quickly, that’s all.”

  Something in her tone alarmed me. She sounded almost feeble, something my grossmammi never was.

  Suspicion crept over me. “Has this happened before?”

  “Ach, it is nothing. The excitement of the day and too much apple cake. I should have insisted on a smaller piece.”

  She’d avoided answering my question. “It has happened before, hasn’t it?”

  “I get dizzy every so often when I’m tired.” She straightened then and gave me a sharp look. “When you are seventy-four, you’ll see. Help me to my room, Seth.”

  For the first time, I noticed how shrunken she was. I knew she tired more easily than in the past, of course. The other day, for instance, when we returned from Strasburg to find her fatigued from tending the little ones. Afterward she’d retreated to the daadi haus and slept for several hours, emerging fresh and as energetic as usual.

  But she was seventy-four years old. I’d not considered my vigorous grossmammi frail until this moment, and the realization left me reeling. I’d lost too many women I loved already. Surely Gott would not take another from me.

  Mammi leaned heavily on me as we slowly made our way to the single bedroom, and I helped her sit on the side of the quilt-covered bed. I struck a match and lit the candle on the bedside table and then stood back, watching her and feeling more useless than a bull in a milking barn. Should I fetch Mamm from the house?

  As though she sensed my thought, Mammi smiled up at me. “It is passing. I’ll just sit here a minute and then get ready for bed.”

  A close inspection showed that her face had regained some color, and her breath didn’t appear as shallow as a moment before.

  “Can I bring you something? A cup of tea, maybe?” I found that I was actually wringing my hands, and whipped them behind my back.

  “I don’t need nursing, Seth.” She laughed, and the sound did more to put me at ease than anything. It held the ring of her trademark humor. “After a full night’s sleep I’ll be good as new. You’ll see.” She flipped her fingers at me in dismissal. “Go. Make yourself as comfortable as you can on that pile of quilts. And put more wood on the fire, please. It’s cold in here.”

  I left her bedroom door cracked open on the pretense of allowing heat from the fireplace an avenue to warm her room. But mostly I didn’t want to miss hearing if she called for help.

  FIVE

  The festive atmosphere remained the next morning as our family continued to host the newly married couple over a bountiful breakfast. Naomi had taken quite a liking to little Sadie, and dandled her on her knee, trying to teach her the game of pat-a-cake. Laughter pealed from both of them as Sadie’s chubby hands tried and failed to imitate the rhythm.

  When Mamm called them to the table, Naomi stood and settled the child on her hip. It was then that I spied the telltale thickening of the young wife’s waist. Well, she had been married five months already, so that was perhaps inevitable. My Hannah, for instance, had—

  I ripped my thoughts from that devastating direction. Naomi must have seen something in my expression, for she placed a protective hand over her round belly, and her peachy cheeks stained with a blush. I tore my gaze away, fighting to calm my expression.

  By a sheer act of will, I managed to hold the memories at bay. Would I forever be haunted by the sight of women in the family way? If so, then I was doomed to experience the familiar ache daily for the rest of my life.

  During the silent prayer before our meal, I prayed for the health of Naomi and her baby. And for Saloma and hers. And for every other expectant woman I knew. Maybe, by praying for other men’s wives, I could achieve some relief from the guilt of not praying hard enough for my own.

  It was with a sense of relief that I followed the men outside the house after breakfast. The cold air cooled my face, a welcome relief from the warmth of the house generated by Mamm’s wood-fired oven, which had been cranking out heat since long before sunup. While Mammi accompanied the twins to the chicken coop to oversee their daily chore of egg gathering, Aaron retrieved the ladder from the barn.

  Johann gladly joined in our work for the day, following Noah up on the roof while Aaron held the bottom of the ladder steady. When he was at the top, I handed up the long chimney brush. We’d decided that while we were working on the roof, we might as well perform the messy job of ensuring the chimney was soot- and creosote-free.

  “Any ice up there?” Aaron called.

  Several years ago we’d replaced the old roof of the main house with a newer metal roofing material, which came with a forty-year warranty. The steep pitch, especially of the second floor, would be dangerous if icy.

  Noah’s voice answered. “Not a bit. The sun has done its job.”

  I heard two pairs of boots trod upon the metal above as they moved toward the first of the chimneys. When I grasped the ladder and started to plant my foot on the bottom rung, Aaron stopped me.

  “It won’t take four of us. Why don’t you go give Daed a hand inside?”

  Though his smile
was kind, I once again felt the sting of being the extra. Of course Aaron was right. Only one man could apply the chimney brush at a time, and it certainly didn’t take three others to inspect the length of the roof. They didn’t need me up there.

  On the other hand, neither did Daed need my help inside, where he had laid cloths around the living room hearth and had no doubt already begun to scrub the bottom half of the chimney with a brush of his own. The task was one he was pleased to be able to handle because there were so many around the farm he could no longer perform.

  I glanced toward the barn, but nothing in there required my attention. I’d been up and dressed since long before breakfast to milk Delilah and Caroline and had turned them out in the small side pasture to enjoy the day’s sunshine. The milk had been separated, and Schwein had been fed.

  I forced a smile for my bruder. “Sure.”

  Inside, I drew curious glances from Becky and Mamm, though the other two women didn’t stop their talk as they worked together to clean up from the morning meal. The sounds of boots on the roof above was nearly drowned out by Naomi’s recounting of some story about a family she and Saloma knew from their home district. Bypassing the kitchen, I headed for the living room.

  I found Daed on his knees before the hearth, applying the chimney brush with industry.

  “Could you use a helper in here?” I asked.

  He turned to me, and I stifled a grin. His face bore evidence of the volume of soot he’d managed to dislodge in a short period of time.

  Instead of answering my question, he pointed to indicate the mound of soot in the bucket he’d placed inside the fireplace. “That creosote conditioner you picked up last week? We got it not a moment too soon. Might have had a fire if we’d waited any longer.” He backed away and jerked a nod toward the bucket. “Want to empty that for me?”

  My mood dipped even further. So this was to be my role for the day. Emptying buckets of soot and probably cleaning the drop cloths and tools used by the other men. Maybe I should help the boys gather eggs next.

  I kept my expression clear of the dour thought. “Ya, sure.”

  A steady stream of soot rained down from above, proof that one of the men on the roof had begun their work from the top. I grabbed the metal bucket and set an empty one in its place, and then I headed outside to perform my chore.

  A little before two o’clock, Luke and Mark, who had been stationed outside with the important task of watching for the arrival of the driver, galloped into the house shouting, “He’s here!” I picked up Naomi’s bulging bag and followed the rest of the family through the door in time to see Robbie Barker’s red car roll to a stop in front of our house. The engine shut off, and for a moment the young man didn’t move. Through the windshield I saw him stare at us. I supposed we did look like a spectacle, all lined up in a row, staring back at him.

  He broke the tableau when he opened the door and exited the car. Rather, he unfolded himself from inside. He rose to his full gangly height and stood, somewhat hesitantly, hands shoved in the pockets of a Chicago Cubs jacket. His gaze slid down the line of us, and when his eyes met mine, his Adam’s apple, prominent in his long neck, bobbed up and down a few times.

  Johann, who clutched his bag in his left hand, stepped forward and extended his right. “Thank you for being on time.”

  “Oh, yeah. No problem.”

  A nervous smile flashed onto his face and then disappeared just as quickly. I caught the exchange of a glance between Naomi and Saloma, their eyebrows forming nearly identical arches. A wave of sympathy for the boy swept through me. I remembered being an awkward teenager, unsure of myself around strangers. Especially Englisch strangers. I supposed Robbie might feel the same around Amish strangers.

  Stepping forward with a wide smile, I hefted Naomi’s bag. “Do you want to put this in the trunk?”

  Robbie jerked upright, as though just now reminded of his reason for being there. “The trunk. Yeah. Let me just make some room.”

  Johann and I followed him to the rear of the red car and stood by as he punched a button and the trunk lid released. The inside was littered with items—a set of orange jumper cables, a plastic milk crate packed with a mishmash of things, a wooden box that rattled when he shoved it aside, several articles of clothing, a large bag of dog food. These he pushed toward the back, clearing enough room for the two bags to fit.

  Aaron approached carrying the cardboard box containing the rewrapped canister set. “Is there room for this?”

  We eyed the full trunk. It was clear nothing else would fit in there.

  “Sorry,” Robbie mumbled. “I shoulda cleaned some of my stuff out.”

  Had this young man never acted as a driver before today? If today was his first time driving the Amish, it would explain his nervousness. I caught sight of concerned lines on Saloma’s forehead as she studied Robbie. Apparently, the same idea had occurred to her, for she clutched her sister’s arm in a protective manner.

  Johann awarded Robbie a wide smile, and I sensed that he was trying to put the nervous young man at ease. “No need. The box can sit on the seat beside us.”

  Gulping again, the driver nodded and slammed the trunk closed with such force that Becky jumped. A note of doubt crept into my mind. Maybe I’d been hasty to suggest that we call Robbie. After all, we had no idea of his driving skills, having seen them demonstrated only on our own driveway. As nervous as he appeared to be, would he be reckless on the road? Or would he calm down once he got behind the wheel of his car and began the journey?

  I followed him around the bumper to the rear door. “What route do you plan to take to Wakefield?” Maybe if I drew him into a conversation, he would relax a bit.

  “Uh, I thought I’d take 896 down to 372, and then 222.” He looked directly into my face, and I saw uncertainty in his gaze. “Is that okay?”

  “Ya,” I assured him. “That is how I would go.”

  Gulping again, he nodded as though relieved. I glanced around at my family. Robbie’s nervousness was spreading. Even Johann had begun to look hesitant. They could change their minds, of course. The distance to Wakefield wasn’t more than thirty miles. If we hitched Rosie up to our buggy, I could deliver the newlyweds to their destination in about four hours.

  But how would Robbie react if we sent him on his way? We would offer to pay him for his time, of course, but I sensed this young man’s need was for more than money. Something about his nervousness touched a tender place in me. I would hate to send him away feeling rejected and useless.

  My gaze lit on the box in Aaron’s hands. The route Robbie had outlined would take him directly through Strasburg. Maybe if I asked to accompany them, Johann and Naomi would feel more at ease. Not that the young driver would, because I seemed to make him more nervous than anyone else. But if I rode along for the nine miles between our farm and Strasburg, at least I could ascertain his driving abilities. If he turned out to be unsafe behind the wheel, I would insist that Johann and Naomi get out of the car with me in Strasburg, and I would find another way to get them to their family in Wakefield. Surely I could find an Englisch driver willing to take on a last-minute job.

  I clasped my hands behind my back and spoke in an even tone. “Since you’re going that way, I wonder if I might ride along as far as Strasburg. There’s a pottery studio I’ve wanted to visit there.”

  Robbie jerked upright, his eyes darting to my face. “Uh, yeah?”

  Mamm stepped to my side. “Why, Seth?”

  “You heard Elias Beachy the other day. He offered me a free pottery lesson. I’d like to try it.” I looked up at Aaron. “We’ve finished the chimneys and inspecting the roofs, ya?”

  My bruder cocked his head to give me a speculative look. “Ya. There is some small work to be done on the daadi haus, but nothing Noah and I can’t handle.”

  Though Johann and Naomi both looked relieved at my suggestion, Mamm was clearly not supportive of the idea. Her forehead a field of crevices, she asked, “How will you get
home?”

  “I’ll find a driver,” I assured her.

  Robbie stepped up beside me. “I’ll bring you home. I have to come back through Strasburg anyway. It’s right on my way.”

  For the first time since he’d arrived he appeared eager, less nervous than a moment before. Why would driving me put him at ease, when driving Johann and Naomi clearly made him nervous? Was it the idea of the extra money for performing a second service? Or maybe he just wanted to feel useful. Being of use for two errands instead of one meant he was doubly needed.

  I certainly understood that feeling.

  I smiled at Mamm. “You see? It’s arranged, then.”

  While Aaron settled the box containing the wedding gifts on the backseat, Johann and Naomi expressed their thanks to my parents and said their goodbyes. I went into the house to retrieve my money clip. Elias Beachy had promised a free lesson, but I had no idea how long that lesson might last, and I might want to purchase a sandwich for my supper before I returned. I might even offer to buy one for my hungry-looking young driver. I exited the house to see Robbie standing politely beside the open back door as Johann helped Naomi into the car. With a farewell nod at my family, I opened the front door and slid onto the passenger seat.

  On the floor lay a crumpled fast-food bag and an empty can, which I pushed out of the way with my foot. A second can sat in the cup holder in the center console. I recognized the black-and-green logo of an energy drink favored by the Englisch and indulged in a smile. No wonder young Robbie fidgeted so. He was full of caffeine.

  He slid behind the wheel and, I was glad to see, immediately fastened his seat belt. His glance fell to the trash at my feet, and red spots erupted on his cheeks.

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t think I’d have anyone up front.”

  “It’s fine,” I assured him as he turned the key.

  The engine rumbled, and as the car backed up to turn around, my family all waved. Johann, Naomi, and I returned the gesture and, the turn completed, began the journey with our new driver.