by Beth Shriver
“I’m not feeling well. It might be best if he stops by another time.” She played with a stray thread on the quilt.
“Your color’s coming back. Are you sure? He’s such a nice young man.” Her mamm’s comment surprised her a little. But then Manny did have a way of gaining people’s approval, and that wasn’t easy when it came to Mamm.
Lucy heard boots scuffing up the stairs. She reached for her kapp, but it was gone. She’d lost her borrowed one from Mammi. Pushing herself to the side of the bed, she grabbed the robe lying at the foot of the bed and put it on. When she turned to stand, Manny’s hand came around and handed something to her.
“Looking for this?” He grinned and held up the kapp. “One of the police officers came by your place today, and he gave it to me. This is yours, jah?”
“Danke” was all she could get out of her mouth. She suddenly felt embarrassed, always seeming like the fragile woman at a man’s mercy. But considering the circumstances, it seemed rare to catch her when she didn’t need nursing from some horrific life event or another.
He held his hat loosely with one hand and stared at her with smiling eyes. “Are you ill?” His docile voice soothed her—so different than what she was used to.
“Nee.” Her eyes flickered up to his quickly. She felt like a young girl complaining about a bad dream to her daed. “A dream is all.” She waved a hand as if it was nothing, even though it had made her heart pound and her body sweat. It was as if she’d seen a ghost, that frame of a man standing in the fire.
She went about putting her kapp on and setting the pins in place. She felt him watching her. She was covered just as much as her dress would cover her, and fixing her hair didn’t really matter at this point. Her mamm had offered for him to come up and see her without question, which was uncharacteristic of her. But since the fire, Mamm had seemed to change. Her prickliness was down to stubs. Even her eyes seemed softer. Lucy supposed that sort of thing could happen when something so horrendous happens to a person. Even her choice of name to call her mamm had changed. Maybe now she would feel more like a mamm to Lucy instead of Verna.
Manny’s voice brought her away from her thoughts and over to him. “Where were you just now?” She paused a moment to look at the blond wisps falling into his eyes—one eye blue, the other brown—glistening in the sun rising outside the window. He stood a head taller than her, tilting his head slightly, just enough to look directly at her.
“In a scary place.” Talking about it made her feel worse. The negative feelings she bottled up kept her from forgiving Sam and moving on. She took in a rough breath and turned away, not wanting him to leave but not wanting to go through the whole thing again—not this soon. The hope was that this dream was telling her Sam was truly gone. But she held her story inside.
“I gotta go. I just wanted to give that to you.” When he blinked, she glanced at his eyes, thinking how unique this man was in many ways. First in his appearance, but also his patience, love for God, and compassion, which were not usually seen in a man of his emotional strength.
Lucy fumbled for an excuse to make him stay. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Nee, and I have chores to finish.”
“Did it set you back, taking care of Sam’s place?” She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d always called it his, but she knew it sounded strange. And she hated using his name. It was if it brought him back to life in her mind, summoned by her guilt at not mourning for him.
He shook his head. “Don’t you worry about it, not one bit.” He glanced at her belly and then back up to her face. “I’m just sorry you don’t have your own haus to live in, even if you’re taken care of here.” He grinned and waved toward the kitchen.
“Jah, but now and again I do miss my own things and time alone.” She’d been more alone living with Sam than she ever wanted to be. She couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to live with a man like Manny. “Danke for coming by.”
“It’s no bother.” He pursed his lips and turned to leave.
Lucy scrambled for something to say that would keep him there, even for just a second more. “I’d like to go by and see the place.”
He stopped instantly and turned back to her. “I can come by after lunch and pick you up.” His eyes widened as he waited for her reply, making her feel a little better about how eager she was when there was any excuse to spend time with him.
“I’ll see you later then.” He lifted one side of his lips into a grin and walked out the door.
Lucy dressed and went downstairs just as Abner came to the door, his face not as jolly as usual, his fuzzy gray brows drawn tight.
Rosy greeted him, “Gut morning.”
“It’s not so gut.” He held up a letter and turned to Mamm and then to Lucy. “This is for you.” He stuck out the envelope, but neither of them took it.
Verna slowly moved her hand forward, and Abner handed it to her. She flipped it over to see Fannie’s handwriting. Lucy watched her rip open the envelope and close her eyes as tears fell down her cheeks.
“Mamm?” When her mamm didn’t respond, Lucy took the letter, but she couldn’t make sense of the words.
She looked at Abner, knowing he often read their mail. “What is it, Abner?”
Abner’s face turned pink. “It’s your daed.”
As Lucy woke to a streak of sunlight coming through her window, her first thought was of her daed. She got up and dressed. She wished she could talk to him, hear his voice, and know he heard hers. There was no other voice she wanted to hear. Lucy would go to the bishop and ask to use the community phone, if only her daed might answer.
The door creaked, and Mamm walked in. Her ashen face told Lucy she’d had a rough night, much as Lucy did most of the time now, with the baby growing and the image of the silo blast waking her in the middle of the night. Now she would worry about her daed too.
“How did you sleep?” Verna’s voice was unsteady, so different than what Lucy remembered from her childhood.
“The thought of one more tragedy is . . . just too much.” Lucy looked down at her apron and picked at the edging. She was more worried about her mamm than herself or even her daed. The illness the doctor had described wouldn’t get better. With no timeline to go by, they prayed and waited. What would Mamm do without him?
Mamm tried to be strong, wiping a tear away hastily, not meeting Lucy’s eyes. “I have to go back.” She slowly turned to Lucy. “I wanted to stay until the baby came.” Her face tightened as if in physical pain, and Lucy knew her emotions were getting the best of her.
The automatic response she’d always given her mamm was “Jah, me too.” The proper response, but it was far from the truth. This time with her mamm—especially with her daed not there—seemed to have brought the two of them closer.
“I wanted you to stay.” She nodded. “I really did.” Her eyes swelled with tears, and Mamm wiped them away. “I worry I may never see my daed again.”
Mamm shook her head. “We’ll continue to hope that he can fight through this, at least a little longer.”
Lucy glanced down at her bulging belly. “How I wish he’d see my baby.”
Mamm made an effort to grin. “He would like to have a little redhead grandbaby like you and him. The only two in the family.” She laid a hand on Lucy’s belly. “This little one might make three.”
“Sorry to barge in.” Mammi ra
pped on the door as she walked in. “We’ll figure out how to get you to the bus station.” None of them spoke. Mammi finally nodded. “No hurry. Today, tomorrow . . . whatever suits you, Verna.” Mammi’s eyes shifted from Mamm to Lucy. Being such a talkative woman, her mammi didn’t know what to do with the silence. She let out a grunt. “You two act like you’re going to a funeral.”
Lucy’s eyes widened at her mammi’s brash comment. She usually took her in stride, but now with this involving her daed? Lucy glanced over at her mamm, who seemed to have gained her composure. She sat up straight, stoic, her eyes on her mamm. So maybe Mammi’s words were helping.
“Ezra’s still kicking, and you should appreciate every second of it, Verna. You know how hard it was for you when your daed passed.” She said it like a question, but clearly it was an answer. “The doc told us he was gonna go long after his time actually came.”
She wagged a finger. “Make some special memories together, and stop mourning when there’s still life to be lived.”
Lucy turned her head toward Mamm, hoping she was taking it the right way. But then Mammi was Verna’s mamm. This blunt way of talking was what she’d grown up with, and she was much the same way. “I think she might be right.”
Mamm slowly bobbed her head with her eyes fixed on Lucy’s belly. “Jah, I believe you are, Mamm.” She stood and ran her hands over her apron, a habit Lucy was accustomed to. “Downstairs.” She held out a hand to Lucy, and they walked down the creaky stairs.
“What’s this all about?” Mammi’s patience had worn thin.
“We’re cooking something”
Mamm was as good a cook as she was with everything. She had a secret ingredient for most everything she made, but it did no good to ask her what it was; she said she’d go to her grave with the information. “Blueberry French toast.”
Frieda gasped, causing Rosy and Nellie to pay attention. Lucy smiled warmly, knowing how rare this was. Lucy’s older sisters had surely figured out how to cook like their mamm, but this particular dish was extra special. It was bittersweet watching her mamm cook, the women peering in to catch every move. This was what her daed would want them to be doing—doing what they did best, making people happy with fine food.
Nellie cut the bread into cubes while Rosy chopped the cream cheese. Mammi went down to the cellar to get some canned blueberries, and Lucy cracked the eggs, stirring them as she watched this group of godly women she loved dearly.
“Milk . . . that’s the last ingredient,” Mamm said as she looked around in the cooler. She stood. “Half a cup, but we need two cups.” She held up the glass jar.
“There are some bottles in the cooler in the barn.” Lucy started for the door.
Rosy grabbed her hand. “Let me get it. You rest.”
Lucy chuckled. “All I did was scramble eggs. Besides, I could use the walk.”
When she looked around the room, they were making quick glances her way. “I’m fine.” She wondered whether she looked more pregnant today and laughed at the thought. This baby did seem to be taking up every bit of room, stretching her belly to an uncomfortable level. No sooner did she get to the barn than she heard the door creak.
“I don’t need any help,” she sang as she closed the cooler, balancing two bottles of milk in her hands. When she turned, Manny was walking toward her. She felt her cheeks heat a little but could blame that on her hormones. “Manny?”
“Didn’t mean to surprise you. You okay?” He studied her the way everyone else was doing.
She waited for his suggestion or opinion about what she should or shouldn’t be eating or drinking, whether she should be resting, even though she was the only one who knew what was good for her and the baby. Still, living with those precious women enabled her to do much less than living on Sam’s farm.
When it came to Manny, though, she’d agree to anything if it meant being with him. She felt he’d know just the right thing to say regarding her daed. The thought of him tightened her heart.
“Jah, just worried about my daed.” She watched his head tilt to the side as he listened to her. “I want to talk to him. It’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice.” She stopped to hold back the emotions. She missed everyone back home and wished she could be there with all of them in that moment, when her daed needed them the most.
Lucy wished she was more like Fannie, able to talk their daed into or out of whatever he asked her to do. Fannie was strong-willed and feisty at times, which got her into trouble but also got her what she wanted. Like when she married a beau to her liking, while Lucy was passed over time and again, ending up with Sam. Lucy knew her daed worried about her with Sam; even without being around much, he knew something was amiss.
“I thought it might do you good to talk with Minister Eben, if for nothing else but to ask for prayers your daed’s way.” He quickly held up a hand. “I don’t want to overstep my ground. I know your mamm will have her own plans.”
Lucy almost smiled. “You’re getting to know her pretty well.”
“She’s hard to ignore.” He grinned.
Lucy nodded her agreement. “She’s not herself. In all my days I’ve never seen her so . . . weak, and . . . well, kind.”
“Hard times can bring out the best or worst in a person. Sounds like she’s taking the high road.”
“I think it’s more the hard road. With me in my . . . condition . . . and Daed in poor health, it seems to have softened her. It makes me realize how glad I am that she came to visit, even if it was only for a short time.” Lucy suddenly saw spots dancing around and closed her eyes.
“Lucy!” She heard Manny’s voice, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. She felt lightheaded and worried she might fall to the ground. Then strong hands wrapped around her shoulders, holding her up. “Look at me, Lucy.”
She blinked several times and looked into Manny’s eyes. He glanced down at her lips and then drew his head back, helping her gain her balance. “Come sit down. Are you all right?”
She sat on a wooden bench and caught her breath. “I don’t know what got into me.” She lifted her eyes to his. “But I’m fine now.” His face was inches from hers as he knelt in front of her. She couldn’t help but enjoy the comfort she felt when she was with him, hearing him talk or watching him smile at her. Everything about him pleased her in what seemed to be every way.
“Jah? Well, you don’t look as good as you might feel.” He moved back as if he realized what he said might offend her. “I mean, you don’t look yourself. You should get some rest.”
She managed a quiet giggle. “I just got up not too long ago.”
“Well, maybe you should still try to rest.” He chuckled. “Really, you just got up?”
She nodded and wrinkled her nose. “Don’t tease. This little one takes up all my energy.”
“It must be a boy.” Manny grinned.
“No doubt. But I’m hoping for a girl.”
“Jah, why is that? Don’t you have enough women in your family? I think you need some boys to even things out.” He stood and looked down at her.
“That’s the problem. I don’t know what to do with a boy.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I could help you with that. I would have enjoyed having a boy to play baseball with and help me with the farm.” He closed his eyes and tilted his face up toward the rising sun. “There’s no better time of the day than
right now. Nature comes alive when the sun touches the earth.”
“Hmm.” Lucy looked over at the bright beams of light and closed her eyes, letting the warmth touch her face. “I believe you’re right.”
“About having a boy or the sun?” He smirked.
“About a lot of things. Mamm is taking the high road. Nothing is too hard for her. Letting her guard down and not trying to control me has brought us closer together.”
“I’ve noticed that myself.” His eyes rested on hers.
“Actually, I think it came from you.” She tried to look away but couldn’t. She wished she could say more without exposing the feelings springing up inside her. “Manny—”
“Jah?” His voice was just above a whisper and his eyes grew wider.
“I think we should go to the haus.” She didn’t want to. Her lips were moving and she was speaking, but her mind was thinking something completely different. She wanted to stay just as she was, with him looking at her the way he was right at that moment. She knew she wasn’t beautiful or shapely, and her hair was a dull mix of red, but she felt beautiful in his eyes. It was as if he could look through her flaws and insecurities too.
“I suppose so.” He offered his hand to help her up. “There is something I thought I should ask you about.”
He held her arm as she walked, as if expecting her to lose her balance again. “Jah, what’s that?”
“That day I took you into town.” He paused. “And you were in a quiet place in the barn. I noticed you had some things in there.”
“You mean the reading material?” Besides the Bible, she also had a diary but was sure it was burned to ashes. The books she could do without as well, though she hated to see them go.
“Jah, there wasn’t much left. Everything was ashes. But I did find this.” He pulled out an engraved piece of metal and handed it to her. “It’s in pretty bad shape. I couldn’t make out what it was at first, but thought you might want it anyway.”
