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A Heart Once Broken

Page 7

by Jerry S. Eicher


  Ezra appeared puzzled. “They’re just teasing. What’s wrong with that?”

  You should claim me as your own and be offended, Sandra wanted to say.

  “Yah, nothing is wrong with teasing,” she said instead, and gave Ezra the best smile she could manage.

  Ezra shrugged and turned his attention to his coffee. He took a long slow sip. Something had obviously gone wrong with her plan, but what? Had Lydia been right, and had Ezra seen through their scheme?

  Sandra took both empty pots upstairs and deposited them on the counter. Bishop Henry called for the last prayer of thanksgiving, and the room hushed as everyone paused to bow their heads. Once the prayer was over, Rosemary appeared in front of her, all cheerful. “Ready to go down to the basement and clean up?”

  “I think I’ll get Lydia to help,” Sandra replied. She needed reinforcements.

  “We can all work together, then. That would be nice,” Rosemary chirped.

  Sandra found Lydia in a corner of the living room surrounded by a circle of younger girls. She must have hidden out there so no one would ask her to wait on the unmarried men’s table.

  Lydia looked up when Sandra approached. “Yah,” she said, before Sandra spoke.

  “I need help cleaning the table in the basement,” Sandra said.

  “Oh, sure.” Lydia didn’t hesitate, but she did say on the way down the stairs, “I suppose Ezra’s gone.”

  “Of course!” Sandra couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice. “And I’m getting nowhere. Has Ezra been paying you attention?”

  “No, but I wish he would,” Lydia snapped.

  Sandra snorted. “That goes without saying.”

  “So you’re giving up?” Lydia sounded hopeful.

  Sandra lowered her voice as they approached the bottom of the steps. “I was hoping you had some fresh suggestions.”

  Rosemary greeted them with a smile. “Hi, Lydia. Where have you been hiding out?”

  Lydia ignored the question and began gathering up the dishes. “You’re awful cheerful today.”

  “Maybe,” Rosemary allowed. “I’m trying to be. I think I’ve moped around long enough, you know, after Clyde hurt me the way he did.”

  “You should have let the memory of Clyde go a long time ago,” Lydia said.

  Sandra bit her lip and kept silent.

  “Can I say something to the two of you?” Rosemary asked.

  Lydia didn’t hesitate. “Sure. Is something wrong?”

  Rosemary hung her head for a moment. “No, there’s nothing wrong. But both of you have been my friends, so that’s why it’s so hard to say this, but I don’t want hard feelings.”

  “What is it?” Lydia probed.

  “So there is something going on,” Sandra snapped. “I asked you about this earlier, remember?”

  “Yah, I remember,” Rosemary said. Then she blurted out, “Okay! I’ll admit it. I’m trying to capture Ezra’s attentions. I can’t help myself even if I know it’s wrong—and impossible.”

  Lydia appeared dumbfounded. “You are trying to…Ezra?”

  “Please don’t be angry with me,” Rosemary begged. “Both of you! I have to try or I can’t live with myself, and he’s not asking either of you home, even with all the work you’ve put into him.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” Lydia said. “Cast me over the barn roof.”

  “But this isn’t possible.” Sandra clutched the edge of the table. “Lydia I can understand, but you?”

  Rosemary appeared embarrassed. “I know. I’m way out of line, so please forgive me.”

  Lydia shrugged. “I guess you have a right to try. If Ezra can’t make up his mind, maybe this will help.”

  “But…” Sandra stopped. She couldn’t express the desperation rising up inside of her.

  Surely Rosemary wouldn’t succeed. Ezra wouldn’t even notice her…would he? She wasn’t about to say such unkind words. Lydia’s example was the right one. Rosemary needed encouragement, not harsh emotions. Sandra took a deep breath and managed to say, “Well, I know what it feels like to give Ezra smiles and to have things go nowhere, so if that happens to you, too, don’t take it personally.”

  “The Lord will surely guide us in this.” Rosemary’s voice trembled.

  Lydia reached over to give Rosemary a quick hug. “I never thought you would have enough nerve. But I’m proud of you.”

  Rosemary colored a little. “I didn’t either, and maybe I will only embarrass myself—in fact, I’m sure I will. And you can all laugh real hard when it happens. I wouldn’t be angry.”

  “We won’t laugh,” Sandra assured Rosemary. This was no longer a laughing matter.

  “But you won’t be angry with me?” Rosemary asked.

  Sandra forced herself to smile. “I’m not getting anywhere with the man, am I?” Then she glanced at Lydia, who shrugged.

  Chapter Ten

  On Wednesday morning Rosemary flopped down on the couch with the pile of mail in her hand. She had worked for hours already with Mamm and her younger sister Ann on bread and pies. This was her first chance to catch her breath.

  “Anything interesting?” Mamm called from the kitchen.

  “I haven’t looked yet,” Rosemary answered.

  She skimmed the letters first. Mostly there were bills for Daett, but one letter was addressed to her. Rosemary held the envelope up to the light. The return address was from the old community in Ohio, but there was no name. The handwriting was clumsy and crude.

  “There’s a letter for me,” Rosemary announced.

  Mamm appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Did one of the relatives write?”

  “I don’t know.” Rosemary turned the envelope upside down. What if this was from a man? The thought left her weak. Perhaps someone had remembered her from the old community? Surely not.

  “Let me see,” Mamm demanded.

  Rosemary handed the letter to Mamm and held her breath. Mamm didn’t look too long before she said, “You’d better open this in your room, I’m thinking.”

  Rosemary let her breath out. “But Mamm, I had nothing to do with this.”

  “Such things are in the Lord’s timing,” Mamm said. “You don’t have to be ashamed of a man’s attentions. Take a few minutes to read the letter, but upstairs please.”

  Rosemary felt the heat rise up her neck as she obeyed. Halfway up the stairs, Rosemary met Ann on her way down.

  “Why are you coming up?” Ann asked. “We have to get back to work. There’s still the pie fillings to make and supper after that.”

  “I’ll be right down.” Rosemary hid her face with the letter and pressed on. Mamm could explain once Ann arrived in the kitchen. She didn’t know what to say. A man had written her a letter. Did she even remember him? Likely not. He must be a shy fellow not to place his name on the return address.

  Rosemary slipped inside her room and opened the envelope. The single page slipped out. “Dear Rosemary,” she began to read. “Greetings in the name of the Lord. I hope this finds you and your family well. We are expecting a hard winter here in Ohio, and I expect things may appear even more bleak in upstate New York. Daett said yesterday that the almanac predicts the first snow fall by Thanksgiving.”

  Rosemary paused to turn the page over. The end of the letter read, “Your hopeful friend, Johnny Mast.”

  Rosemary took a deep breath. Johnny was the same age she was, with plenty of pimples on his face when she had seen him last. But he might have outgrown them by now.

  Rosemary scanned the last paragraph. “I hope you remember me. I certainly remember you, and I have a great faith that the Lord may stir in your heart what has been raised in my own. I have spent much time in prayer about this, Rosemary. Would you consider writing letters to me, and perhaps allowing me to visit you soon in New York? Please let me know of your answer at the soonest possible date.”

  Rosemary laid the letter down. Johnny Mast? She had nothing against him, but on the other hand, he wasn’t Clyde and he certainly wasn
’t Ezra Wagler. Was there something wrong with her? Did she choose the wrong men? Was Johnny right for her and she was too blind or proud to see it? But if she accepted this offer to write him, there went her chance to gain Ezra’s attentions. And that after her brave words to the Troyer cousins on Sunday! Maybe she was proud. Lydia and Sandra hadn’t laughed at her plans, but perhaps they should have. One thing was for sure—she couldn’t play both Johnny and Ezra at the same time. And Ezra was far from a sure thing, while Johnny was…well, he sounded certain of himself, and she had never had a man interested in her who sounded certain of his feelings. But pimples? Could she stand that, even if they had gone away? Rosemary let the thought float around in her mind. The feeling wasn’t goot, but that might be her pride speaking.

  Rosemary jumped when Mamm called up the stairs. “Time for work, dear.”

  “Coming,” Rosemary hollered back. She hid the letter in the bottom of her dresser drawer and hurried downstairs.

  “So?” Mamm asked when she arrived.

  “Johnny Mast,” Rosemary deadpanned. “He wants to write and maybe visit soon.”

  “Oh,” Mamm said, and fell silent.

  Ann giggled. “You’d make a goot match with him.”

  Rosemary winced but said, “I’ll have to think about it. That’s all I know.” She then busied herself with the cherry pie recipe.

  Mamm joined in with the work but didn’t offer any advice, though she seemed deep in thought. Did Mamm have an opinion? Rosemary would have to ask soon, if Mamm didn’t speak up.

  Rosemary found a large bowl and stirred in the ingredients. When Mamm still hadn’t said anything, Rosemary spoke. “Tell me what you think of Johnny, Mamm.”

  “Ann said it pretty well,” Mamm allowed. “And I’ve noticed lately that you’ve come out of your shell around boys, so perhaps this is all the Lord’s timing.”

  “See, I was right.” Ann’s face glowed. “Mamm agrees with me.”

  Rosemary didn’t answer as she continued to stir. Thoughts from the past drifted through her mind. Clyde’s face looked down on her with a smile that first evening he’d taken her home from the hymn singing in his buggy. Johnny couldn’t match that emotion. Of that she was sure. But Johnny wouldn’t have to. Much as she had hoped Clyde’s love was the real thing, it hadn’t been. Clyde had dumped her with harsh words on his lips. Why he had even taken her home in the first place she never would understand. Johnny wouldn’t act that way.

  Mamm’s voice broke through Rosemary’s thoughts. “Remember what I told you after Clyde? Life has its bumps, but things eventually turn out the way they are supposed to.”

  “You must have been reading my thoughts,” Rosemary managed.

  “Why doesn’t someone read my thoughts?” Ann asked with a grimace.

  “You have your own special place in our hearts,” Mamm assured her.

  “Thank you,” Rosemary and Ann said together.

  Her parents did the best they knew how, Rosemary told herself. But she had never explained to Mamm exactly why Clyde had cut off their relationship. Daett no longer attended the liberal meetings, and blaming Daett wouldn’t have done any goot. And Ezra healed her heart exactly where Clyde had left the broken pieces. So how could she turn her back on hope that was so real?

  “Pray about it,” Mamm said, cutting into Rosemary’s thoughts and making her jump again.

  “She’s a dreamer,” Ann said.

  And dreamers sometimes dream, right? Rosemary almost said, but pressed her lips together instead.

  How had she dreamed this dream? Ever since she had spoken with Ezra at the feed mill the idea had grown and taken root—wrong though the desire was. But in the meantime she couldn’t say yah to Johnny. She just couldn’t. Not with her heart set on Ezra. She’d have to tell Johnny not to write any more letters.

  “Do you want to say what you’re thinking?” Mamm asked.

  Rosemary gave Ann a quick glance. “With her around?”

  “That’s not fair,” Ann protested.

  “Maybe you can find something to do in the basement.” Mamm gave Ann a warm smile. “Or there’s still some vegetables left to bring in. You could check and see what you can find for supper. Maybe a few radishes, carrots, celery, and lettuce. Then you can clean them in the sink downstairs.”

  Ann frowned, but left without further objection.

  Mamm turned to Rosemary when the basement door closed. “Okay,” she said. “We’re alone now, and I hope you’re thinking the right thing.”

  “I can’t accept Johnny’s offer.” Rosemary felt the color rush into her face. “My heart is set on someone else.”

  The question grew on Mamm’s face. “Why didn’t I know about this man? And has he given you any indication that he cares about you?”

  Rosemary looked away. “No, but he’s like that. He doesn’t make up his mind easily.”

  “And who is this man you think you have a chance with?”

  Rosemary met her mother’s sharp gaze. “Ezra Wagler.”

  “Ezra!” Mamm exclaimed. “What has gotten into you, Rosemary?”

  Rosemary stumbled over the words. “I…I feel like trying, I guess. I want to ride in his buggy, Mamm. I want Ezra to bring me home on a date. I want the joy of loving him.”

  Mamm grimaced. “You know this is your imagination running wild, Rosemary. Ezra is not the man for you.”

  “Maybe not,” Rosemary allowed. “But even if this is just a dream, I can’t let it go. And what if Ezra does care for me? What if Ezra plans to ask me home soon on a Sunday evening? I’ve done my part. I’ve shown him my intentions every chance I’ve had.”

  “I don’t need to know more.” Mamm held up her hand. “If you feel like that, then don’t give Johnny a positive answer. On that I agree with you.” Mamm’s voice was firm. “Now, enough of this discussion. We have to get these pies in the oven, and supper made.”

  “Thanks for not scolding me too badly about Ezra,” Rosemary said. “I do feel much better. It’s as if…well, like I’m no longer alone.”

  A smile crept across Mamm’s face. “Your heart does lead you into lonely places at times, Rosemary.”

  “Better lonely than broken,” Rosemary muttered.

  Mamm didn’t seem to hear as she opened the oven door and waved away the cloud of heat with her apron. With the way cleared, Mamm slipped the pies inside.

  She would write a real nice letter to Johnny, Rosemary decided. She would tell him that she appreciated his attentions. There was no reason for harsh words. “Dear Johnny,” she would write. “I received your letter and feel honored that you would think of me. And I do remember you from our time in Ohio. I appreciate your offer to exchange letters with a possible visit sometime in the future. I have spoken with Mamm about what you asked, and I’ve decided it would be best if I declined your offer. But thanks for the consideration. I hope you are successful in your journey in life and in your search for that special someone the Lord has prepared for you.

  “Sincerely, Rosemary Beiler.”

  She would remember the words until she had time to write them down after supper. The face of Ezra Wagler floated in front of her vision, and Rosemary hugged herself. What if…but she must not daydream right now. She must wait, and pray with all of her might. Surely the Lord would not put such desires for a man’s attentions in her heart only to snatch them away again.

  Chapter Eleven

  A week later, Lydia hurried as she washed the supper dishes. Behind her, Emma cleared the last of the table with a flourish, while Rhoda stood ready at the drainer with her dishcloth, grabbing each dish while the water still dripped. They rushed because Sandra and her mamm were coming to visit, but that was no excuse for how Rhoda was wiping dishes tonight.

  “Your cloth will soon be sopping wet if you don’t let the dishes air-dry for a few minutes first,” Lydia warned.

  “We’re in a hurry, aren’t we?” Rhoda shot back.

  “True,” Lydia allowed. “But that’s never an ex
cuse for sloppy work.”

  Rhoda didn’t answer, but she shook the next dish a few times. Lydia gave her sister a quick smile. She had to mind her attitude around her sisters. It wasn’t her place to interfere with Emma and Rhoda’s training. That was Mamm and Daett’s duty. But since the family’s financial disaster, Daett didn’t seem to have enough energy for his daily work, let alone the strength to guide the high spirits of his two youngest teenage daughters. Lydia tried not to think about the situation too much, but disaster would strike soon if something wasn’t done. Emma and Rhoda were growing bolder every day, to the point of openly flaunting their Englisha friends on the weekends. All four of them had stopped by the house again on Saturday night, and Daett had said nothing. Mamm hadn’t appeared pleased, but she wouldn’t interfere with her daughters’ plans on her own. Not on such a touchy subject. One thing was for sure—none of the older children had dared to bring Englisha friends onto the homeplace in their rumspringa time. She certainly hadn’t. Not even once, let alone twice.

  Lydia washed another plate and made sure it was clean before placing it on the strainer. While she had been lost in thought, Rhoda and Emma had vanished down the basement stairs. Lydia’s thoughts drifted again. Emma and Rhoda weren’t the only ones who were acting different lately. Much had changed in the lives of the extended Troyer family. There was no question about that. Sandra and her mamm had been affected greatly by their financial tragedy and the death of Emil. How strange that Aunt Edna planned to remarry so soon. There must be pressures on Aunt Edna she couldn’t even imagine.

  “I think Mamm’s still fahuddled with Daett’s passing,” Sandra had told her at the last Sunday service. “Amos has even offered to pay for the wedding,” Sandra had added, with horror in her voice.

  But they were all confused in one way or another. What else could explain the strange agreement she had with Sandra about Ezra? Or with how Ezra was acting lately? He was paying less and less attention to either of them at the community gatherings. Ezra could at least pay attention to Sandra when she served the unmarried men’s table at the services. But Ezra hadn’t done so this past Sunday. Were both she and Sandra losing Ezra? She could stand it if Ezra ended up with Sandra. That had always been a possibility. But his ending up with someone else would be a difficult pill to swallow.

 

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