Thumping her cane against the floor, Ada demanded that someone tell her where her quilting supplies had disappeared to. It hurt Julia’s heart, but she understood it was part of the dementia. Ada was remembering better days.
Doc Hanson smiled.
Julia looped her arm through Ada’s. “We’ll find your things, mamm. No need to worry.”
By noon Monday they had finished at the doctor’s office, picked up Ada’s prescription, and were riding home. Julia should have felt better, but she didn’t. The week had started off on the wrong foot, and the weather was making her narrisch. Even Missy seemed skittish, tossing her head and pulling left when traffic approached them—pulling into the oncoming lane. It took all of Julia’s concentration to get them safely home.
Once she tucked her mother into bed, she had half the day left—half the time to complete all of the items on her list because tomorrow the café would be open again.
Her dream had come true, though, and complaining about it would help no one. So she trudged downstairs, opened the windows to cool the rooms, and set to work.
Caleb didn’t know what to make of the unseasonable temperatures.
He’d seen strange weather before. He was from Indiana, after all. They had their share of tornadoes, droughts, and even the occasional flood. God was in control of the seasons, not man, so he’d never paid it much attention.
But sixty degrees the first week in November was unusual. It made him itchy. And it made his animals nervous.
Tim had stopped by earlier in the morning. Jeanette had been on the Internet and checked—the average high temperature for this time of year ranged between forty-five and fifty-five. Not so far off. Not really.
So why were they all acting as if boulders were going to fall from the sky?
He’d told Tim not to worry, and he’d gone back to repairing his barn. Winter would arrive. It was only a matter of time, and when it did, it would probably be a good one. That was it, he realized as he stared out across Julia’s garden.
They were no doubt in for one very long, very cold winter.
He’d seen it before, and he should have recognized the signs all around him—warm weather, unsettled animals, and people on edge. Winter was coming. He didn’t need a computer to tell him that.
So he spent a few extra hours in the barn, making sure things were as tight and snug as he could make them.
When he went inside for dinner, it took only one glance to see how tired Julia was. She looked ready to fall asleep in her chair.
“Is Ada any better?”
“I think so. She’s sleeping well. Not…” Julia moved her hand back and forth across the top of the table, mimicking Ada’s earlier agitations.
“That’s gut. Hanson, he’s a fine doctor. Everyone says so.”
Julia attempted a smile but didn’t say anything. She was exhausted. They all were.
He should talk to her about hiring more help in the café, but they didn’t actually know how much money they were clearing yet. Wait another week, maybe two, and then they could sit down and look at the finances.
“Where’s Sharon?”
“Sitting upstairs with her. They both had some soup earlier.”
The rest of the meal passed in silence. Caleb wondered if anything else was wrong. He couldn’t imagine what. Ada was on the mend. Sharon seemed to be doing better. The little spat they’d had last week was behind them.
“Is there anything I can do to help get ready for tomorrow?”
“Nein.”
“You look as though you feel bad. Is something wrong?”
She glanced at him sharply but shook her head. “I just…my head is hurting. That’s all.”
He’d never known her to complain of a headache before. Probably it was the weather.
“I’ll do the dishes. Go lie down.” When she protested, he insisted. “You were up all night with your mother, Julia. I can clean up a couple of bowls.”
So she nodded and dragged herself up the stairs—it was the only word for it. He could hear her pulling one foot behind the other. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. As if her shoes or her feet or her entire legs were too heavy to pick up and move to the next step.
The weather would cool. The first snow would fall, and they would all feel better. It was only a matter of time.
After Caleb finished the dishes he went upstairs. No one was in the sitting room, and there was no light on under his door. Caleb thought of going in to check on Julia, but he didn’t want to wake her. So instead he pulled out a pillow and blanket from the closet, made a comfortable bed on the couch, and within five minutes was asleep.
Chapter 31
Sharon didn’t change her eating habits immediately after her conversation with Wess. She’d gone upstairs, found everyone in bed, and pretended to read awhile. Actually, she’d sat and thought about what he’d said. Then she had gone to bed—same as always. She did not have nightmares. The terrible dreams of being chased as she ran through the rain seemed to be in the past.
The next morning they had realized how sick Ada was.
And Monday she’d done the laundry while Julia took Ada to the doctor. It wasn’t until Monday afternoon as she was washing dishes that she made up her mind she would like to go to town. She talked to Julia about it. They decided that Mattie, one of the girls in their district, could come in and cover the Wednesday morning shift.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Mattie has asked if I would give her a try. Wednesday morning will be a perfect chance for her to see if she likes it—”
“And if she’s any gut,” Caleb pointed out.
“That too, though I suspect we can teach her what she needs to know.”
Sharon didn’t know much about Mattie. Miriam had once mentioned she’d had problems with a boy a year or so ago. He was living in another town now and his name was Jerry Beiler. He was the bishop’s nephew, the bishop for the other side of Pebble Creek, which all meant nothing to her. They were a family from the east side of Pebble Creek. She’d barely learned the names of the people on their side—the west side.
Mattie would either work out or she wouldn’t. If she did, then they would have someone to help on extra busy days or when Sharon or Wess needed time off.
Caleb was off on Wednesday, and he said he didn’t mind taking her to town. He needed to pick up some supplies anyway. The ride along the two-lane road was pleasant, and she found herself feeling excited as she checked her purse one last time to be sure she’d placed part of her earnings in there. She’d spent very little of the money she’d made. The fall communion service had already occurred when she arrived, so she’d missed the offering. Instead, she set a portion of her tips aside for the spring offering. Whether she was home or still staying with Caleb and Julia by then, she wanted to be able to do her part.
The only other money she had spent out of her earnings had been to purchase candy for Victoria and Zoey. One of the guests at their restaurant delivered candy to stores in town, and he’d been happy to sell her a few chocolate bars from his sample case. The girls had clapped and squealed. Wess had joined them as his sisters were sitting next to Sharon on the porch swing, hands sticky from the sweet treat. He had rolled his eyes.
“I checked with your mamm first.”
“They’re still spoiled rotten!” But Wess’s smile spoke louder than his words did.
Because she worked five days a week, her envelope of money was growing. She’d even tried to pay Caleb and Julia for her room and board, but they had refused.
“You’re more than earning your keep, Sharon.”
The words left a warm glow inside her. Or maybe it was the way Julia had smiled when she’d said them.
Julia seemed preoccupied this week, still worried about something. Ada was improving with the medicine, so Sharon wasn’t sure what the problem was, but then adults had a lot more to worry about than teens did.
Her growing amount of money was her biggest worry at the moment. Christmas pres
ents would need to be bought, depending on where she was living at the end of December. She should purchase some crocheting supplies today. Maybe she would look if she had time. She could crochet, knit, and quilt, but by far her crocheting skills were best. Those projects seemed to be finished much more quickly than others.
Would she be home for Christmas? Or would she still be here in Wisconsin? She had wanted to talk to her parents about it, but what would she say? What had changed? She hadn’t had the courage to call them, and anyway her parents didn’t like talking on the phone. She’d not even picked up a cell phone since the incident in Monroe. Aaron had a phone at the cabins for business, and she knew he would have been happy to let her use it. But what would she say if she called home? What would they say to her?
Her mother had written several times, but Sharon hadn’t answered yet. She meant to, and then in the evenings she always decided to put it off until the next day.
She and Caleb arrived in town, and he parked the buggy next to the feed store.
“Need help finding anything?”
“Nein.”
“Will an hour be long enough for you?”
“An hour will be fine, Caleb. Thank you.”
She turned away from the buggy and started down the street. The day was unseasonably warm, and she didn’t need her coat or even a wrap. Down the road, she could see Amish Anthem, the tallest building in town, but she didn’t think what she was looking for would be there.
She passed the city offices, a small café with checkered curtains, and a gas station. She saw the grocery in the distance and realized she was nearing the end of the two blocks which made up the downtown area.
Perhaps she would need to try Amish Anthem after all.
Looking left and right, she prepared to cross the street, and that was when she saw it—The Book Nook.
Maybe they would have what she needed.
A bell chimed as she pushed the door open. A large fluffy dog was lying on a rug in front of the register, but she stood at the sound of the bell, stretched, and then padded over and placed her cold black nose against Sharon’s hand.
“Dixie won’t bite, dear. She loves customers.”
Dixie was obviously a mixed breed. Sharon didn’t know a lot about dogs, but this one seemed to have a little German shepherd, some Labrador, and possibly poodle in her family tree. The result was big, curly, and gentle. Brown hair flopped over dark eyes that gazed up at her expectantly.
“Hi, Dixie.” Sharon patted the dog on her head and received a look of complete adoration for her trouble.
“What can I help you with today?” The owner was a small Englisch woman with graying hair, half glasses, and kind eyes.
Sharon described what she was looking for.
Tapping a neatly trimmed nail against the counter, Mrs. Shepard—Sharon could see her name tag now—didn’t answer right away. Then she smiled and pointed to the far side of the store. “Last aisle, at the end but at the top. Would you like me to show you?”
“Nein. I can find it myself.”
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
Because she was alone, except for Dixie, she was able to take her time and pick out exactly what she wanted. On her way back to the counter, she spied some stationary—simple but a pretty lavender, and lined, which was unusual. She preferred lined paper, as her handwriting tended to angle when she wrote until it looked as if her sentences were drooping off the page.
“I love this paper,” Mrs. Shepard said. “It’s a shame people don’t write letters as much as they used to. At least Englisch people don’t.”
Sharon smiled at the store owner’s use of the term. Apparently she had grown used to having both Amish and Englisch customers. “Yet Englischers have e-mail and such, which is much faster, ya?”
“Faster, but not as permanent.” Mrs. Shepard handed over her change. “Stop by and see Dixie and me again. Maybe by the time you do, we’ll have winter weather like we should.”
“That would be nice. I’ve never been in Wisconsin in the winter.”
“We have lots of snow, and it’s usually quite cold.”
“Sounds wunderbaar.” Sharon patted the dog one last time and had made it to the door when she remembered to ask about yarn.
“One block over, behind us. The Yarn Shop—it’s a small yellow house. You can’t miss it.”
She didn’t miss it. In fact, she could have spent her entire hour there among the yarns and patterns. She didn’t need a pattern, though, and she knew Julia and Ada had a basket of crochet hooks. So she settled for buying a lovely teal-and-purple variegated yarn—three skeins of it, enough for a shawl.
It wouldn’t make up for the things she had said to her mother, but it would be a start.
When she arrived back at the café, the lunch crowd was in full swing. She ran upstairs, dropped her two packages on her bed, and headed back down to the kitchen.
“How do you manage all day?” Mattie asked, her brown eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. “I’m exhausted.”
“You did very well, Mattie.” Julia slipped piping hot cornbread on a plate along with a bowl of potato soup and handed it to Sharon. “Table four, Sharon. Glad to have you back.”
“I’ll say. I’m ready for a nap after this morning!” Mattie sank onto a stool and reached for her glass of water.
“You should have seen me the first day. I—”
“You were tired?” Wess arrived with a tray of dirty dishes. “Hmm. I thought you were the Energizer Bunny.”
Mattie, Julia, and Sharon all stared at him, but Mattie was the one to ask, “Who?”
Sharon liked the laughter that followed as she carried table four’s food into the next room. It was as if they were a team, and they worked together pretty well.
On her break later that afternoon, she ran up to her room, picked up one of her packages, sat in the chair by the window, opened the journal, and began to write.
The idea to use a journal had come to her the evening Wess had kissed her, after he had reminded her she was in control of her choices.
But it was easy to forget that late at night when she was trying to fall asleep. Or early in the morning when she didn’t think she had the energy to begin the day’s work. She had been puzzling over it as she’d carried dishes in to wash the day before when Julia had pulled out her list and added another item to it. Julia and her lists. They all teased her about them, but everyone had also admitted that her lists and her organization kept the café running.
If lists could work for Julia, maybe they could also work for her. And wasn’t the book of Psalms, which Ada was so fond of, simply a list? A list of what God had done in the psalmists’ lives.
Sharon ran her hand over the front of the journal. It was a soft green, which reminded her of spring. The thought of spring always lifted her heart. It gave her hope, as if the horrors of this fall would not last forever. Perhaps they would die with winter, and she could begin again.
The journal was fastened shut by an elastic band sewn into the back cover and looped over the front. Sharon slipped her hand under the elastic, opened the cover, and turned to the front page—lined and blank.
But she couldn’t write on it. The first page seemed too vulnerable, too exposed. What if someone found it? What if they read her thoughts?
She settled for penning her name on the third line. Then she turned to the next page, put the date at the top, and began to write. She listed all the choices she had made that day. The decisions she had made.
All were small things—which dress to wear, to surprise Julia by rising early and having their breakfast on the table, to ride with Caleb into town. Nothing earth shattering. When she was finished, her words hadn’t filled even half of the page.
You control your thoughts and what you choose to believe about yourself and others.
She skipped a line and began writing again.
When she had reached the bottom, she placed the cap back on the pen and read what she’d wri
tten, what was below the skipped line, what she chose to believe about others and herself.
Julia and Caleb love me.
Ada is a gift from Gotte.
Zoey and Victoria are a joy.
Bandit makes me smile.
Wess is special.
Gotte has taken care of me.
Closing the journal, she pulled the elastic band around the top and across the front and tucked her pen into the spiral binding.
Maybe it was a small step, but it was a step. She sensed that as surely as she sensed a storm was coming soon, one that would relieve them of the heat and return the winter weather they should be having.
Maybe writing her list each day would help her step onto the path she should be traveling down. Tucking the journal in her drawer, she hurried downstairs. Her lunch break was over, and she hadn’t eaten, which wasn’t a problem. She could sneak in a snack between customers. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that Julia was always happy to see her eat.
Later that night she helped with the dinner dishes. It had been a long day, and she was looking forward to sitting upstairs. Maybe she would even go to bed early. Her stomach felt uncomfortably full, which was probably why she was so tired. For the first time since that night in Indiana, she hadn’t counted her bites. She wouldn’t allow herself to, though it was going to be a difficult habit to break. Not that she had exactly cleaned her plate, but she had eaten more than usual. Caleb and Julia had certainly been smiling about something. Though it might have nothing to do with her, Caleb had said, “Maybe Sharon wants dessert tonight.”
But she couldn’t have fit dessert into her stomach no matter how hard she might have tried. Small steps, she reminded herself. Keep moving in the right direction, and small steps were fine.
They did the dishes and were upstairs within an hour, each taking their turn in the bathroom.
Things seemed almost normal. Ada thumbed through the Psalms. Caleb read the Budget. Julia worked on her lists. She still seemed worried. Preoccupied, really. She kept chewing on the end of her pen before scratching something off and writing another thing down on the paper. Sharon pulled her book off the shelf, the same one she’d been pretending to read since the day she’d arrived. Staring at the page, she kept thinking of the teal-and-purple yarn. She could probably finish the shawl in a few weeks, and then she could go back and buy the blue-and-yellow—a nice blend that Ruthie would love.
A Wedding for Julia Page 23
