by Sarah Price
She sat at the table, waiting for him to enter the house. She was nervous, wondering what he would say to excuse the time away. She felt ashamed of herself that she had thought he had left her for good, returning to the worldly ways of his Englische past. How could she have doubted him? She laid her hand over her stomach, gently rubbing it as she realized that she would also have to tell him about their baby.
She wondered about what his reaction would be. Would he share the happiness that she felt? Or would he be upset that it had happened so quickly? She began wondering what had happened to him. Where had he been? What news was he going to tell her? She suddenly realized that, despite her own happy news, his could certainly not be as welcoming.
When he walked in through the kitchen door, he paused, standing in the doorway and staring at her. His eyes looked hallow and vacant. Sylvia didn’t move but waited for a reaction from him. Would he be upset about the wheat? Did he have something terrible to tell her? She held her breath, waiting to know what direction the rest of the day would take.
“Sylvia,” he said slowly, taking a step toward her. He seemed to hesitate as he stared at her. “I know that we need to talk but I need you,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. He walked toward her and reached for her hand. “I need you,” he repeated.
“I’m here for you,” she replied, letting him pull her to her feet.
“That’s not what I mean,” he murmured as he embraced her and lowered his lips to her neck. She smelled sweet and clean, just the way he remembered. He gently removed her prayer kapp and set it on the table. It looked pretty on the oak table, the strings coiled naturally from where Jake had set it down. “Come,” he said as he led her toward the stairs, not bothering to turn on the light in the fading afternoon sun.
She let him lead her upstairs and undress her. She stood before him, naked and frightened. Whatever had happened had upset him, she thought. But he was seeking comfort in her arms and that was good enough for her. She let him remove her hairpins, her hair flowing down her back, just the way he liked it.
His hands wandered over her body, stopping just momentarily at her stomach. He paused, looking at her with an unspoken question in his eyes. It was clear that he recognized what she had so obviously missed. Sylvia paused, then, with her eyes downcast, she nodded. He lifted her chin with his finger, staring into her eyes as he exhaled loudly, a contented sigh, and lowered his mouth onto hers with a passion that indicated his own grief from his extended and unexpected absence.
The sky was not completely dark as they lay in each other’s arms after having shared an intimate reunion. Jake tucked the sheet and blanket around Sylvia’s shoulder. He leaned on his side, running his free hand down her arm. He sighed, his mind whirling with all of the things that he wanted to tell her. But, as his hand travelled down her side, he brushed against her stomach. “When did you find out about the baby?” he asked.
She placed her hand on top of his. “I didn’t realize it, Jake. I feel so foolish. It was Shana who noticed and asked me.”
“A baby,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. There was something peaceful in the way that he said the words.
“Our baby,” she said.
“When…?”
Sylvia shrugged her shoulders and frowned. “I don’t know. I must be three months along. Late April…May, I suppose.” A silence fell between them. He continued to gently rub her stomach, her hand still pressed upon his. The room was growing darker and they both knew they would have to get up to take care of the evening chores. “Are you pleased?” she asked shyly.
He answered her by kissing her gently on the forehead. “Who wouldn’t be pleased? It’s the right order of things,” he said. “A baby will make everything different…better than it already is, yes? And you will be a magical mother, I’m sure.”
The words were genuine but there was something heavy behind his tone. Sylvia noticed it immediately. Her husband had not returned to her with the same sparkle in his eyes that had been there when he had left. She took advantage of the moment to ask what was truly on her mind.
“Jake? It worries me what happened…”
He rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm. “What didn’t happen?” he answered in response. He took a long moment to collect his thoughts before he continued. “I had to return to the city, Sylvia. It was hard. Really hard.”
“Why, Jake?”
“When Jennifer died…” he began. “Well, let’s just leave it as I had to meet with lawyers and financial people. There were issues regarding her death that I really don’t want to discuss. Going back there, to the place where it happened, well, it was more than difficult.” There was a long pause. He didn’t want to proceed but did so cautiously. “I was sick, Sylvia. Worn out and plain sick. I wound up in the hospital.”
“Jake!” His revelation frightened her. The hospital?
“That’s why I didn’t write to you. And, of course, I couldn’t call. I had to deal with reliving everything, especially when I had to return to New York City. I never wanted to go back there, not after what happened. The stress left me sick, Sylvia, both emotionally and physically.” He sighed. “All I could think about was coming home to you but my body couldn’t take the strain of the decisions that I had to make, the meetings, the craziness of that city.”
“I don’t understand,” she admitted. What was he saying?
“I never wanted to return there. The noise, the people…” he said as he quickly sat up and turned his back toward her.
She wanted to go to him, to comfort him, but she suspected that he needed a moment to clear his head. She could tell that he was conflicted. So many questions swarmed through her mind but she waited, obediently, for him to take his own time to tell his story.
“After having lived out here for so long, there is a bit of a shock when you return to that place. It’s like comparing hell with heaven. Having survived the one, I only wanted to return to the other.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. His bare shoulders heaved under the weight of his feelings. “You can’t imagine it, Sylvia. And, for that, I’m thankful.” He stood up and reached for his clothing, stepping into his pants before he turned to her and gave her a hint of a smile. “It’s not important. I’m fine now and I’m back.” He reached out to stroke her cheek. “And I feel so much better now that I’m with you and on the farm. Now, if I’m not mistaken, we have some evening chores and then I want to hear about everything that happened while I was gone.”
Sylvia didn’t press him further. She knew that, when he was ready, he would share more with her…if he felt that it was important. For now, she was just happy that he was home. With love and tenderness, she knew that she could continue to nurse him back to health…emotionally, physically, and spiritually. From his reaction and his hesitation to share with her, she knew that whatever was troubling him was powerful deep but any type of solution to his woes resided in the fact that he was back where he belonged.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sylvia sat with the group of women, their fingers moving expertly among the material as they quilted. She was wedged between Lillian and Shana for which she was thankful. It was awkward, sitting among the women, knowing that they regarded her as an outsider. There was talk about the church and people that she knew but Sylvia felt left out, as though she was hearing about the lives of complete strangers.
She didn’t see her family as much as she would have liked and life on the farm had taken a turn. She spent a lot of time alone, inside the house, especially given that it was winter and so cold. However, Jake spent most of his time in the barn. He was quiet and aloof. Whatever had happened during his trip had set him backward to a place where he hadn’t wanted to return and one that Sylvia was finding increasingly difficult to understand. Coping with the change in her husband along with the change in her lifestyle was creating its own vacuum of stress on her life.
“Your stitches look fine, Sylvia,” Lillian said quietly. “So small and p
etite. Have you been practicing at home?”
Sylvia nodded. It was true. She had been sewing a lot at home, fixing Jake’s clothing as well as her own but mostly sewing small quilts and linens for the baby. If nothing else, it helped to pass the time that she spent alone. She had found solace in the simple act of creation. It kept her from worrying which was something she had been taught to avoid. To worry meant that she doubted in her own faith in the Lord. Keeping busy kept her from thinking too much about what was at the root of Jake’s deep reflection.
“Lots of practice for clothing your own family, ja?” Shana asked, her voice soft so that the other women couldn’t hear but Lillian could. She stressed the word family just enough so that Lillian understood the hidden meaning.
“Oh Sylvia!” Lillian whispered. “How wunderbaar gut! I wondered but I didn’t want to ask, of course. Jake must be very excited.”
Sylvia smiled but didn’t reply, her eyes wandering to the other women, a silent reminder that others were near. Excited? She wondered about that herself. He seemed to treat her with more gentle care and concern, true. But he was always attentive to her needs, never failing to help with carrying things for her or to help with more labor-intensive chores. There was nothing that he could do differently to show that he loved her and cared about her. But she didn’t know if he was excited about the baby. Apprehensive might be a better word, she thought. It was almost as if he didn’t want to believe in the baby, as if he didn’t have faith that it was real.
The other women were laughing about something and Sylvia looked up, wondering what she had missed. She always enjoyed their teasing and joking during the quilting time together, but, today, her mind was elsewhere.
The holidays had come and gone in a fast-paced blur. For the first time, she had not celebrated with her family. Shana and Emanuel had taken pity on her and invited Jake and Sylvia to their home. It was a distance away so they were made the trip in Jake’s truck. Steve and Emma joined them as they were staying at Emanuel and Shana’s home. The arrangement worked nicely as Steve helped Emanuel with farm work while Emma provided extra help to Shana who had just had her own baby two months prior to their wedding. Since Steve was waiting for the closing on the farm he purchased near to Emanuel’s, it also afforded him opportunity to visit with the owners and learn about his new property.
The holiday meal was a joyous occasion and the small kitchen of Shana’s house seemed cozy enough. The children bought life and laughter to the fellowship while everyone took turns holding the new baby. But, for Sylvia, it was bittersweet as she was well aware that she had not been included in the celebration at her parents’ home. Her older sisters and younger brothers had shared fellowship with her parents, their families filling in the gathering room. And, of course, Jonas Junior would have been there with Lillian and their children. At best, there would have been upwards of seventy or eighty people crowded into the house for food, song, and celebration. For the first time, Sylvia was not there. It hadn’t felt like the holidays and that had left an empty feeling in Sylvia’s core.
Now that the holidays were over and the depths of winter were upon them, the days seemed to drag on. The sun rose later in the day and set earlier in the evening. The darkness suited her mood. She didn’t care for the winter cold and missed the warmth of the summer sun on her face. She missed working outdoors and helping Jake in the barn. He woke early and worked by himself, insisting that she keep warm inside the house. But that meant that the milking and animal care took twice as long in the morning and early evening. It also meant that he was tired so, every night, shortly after supper, he retired to bed. She realized that she rarely saw him during the day and they only spoke during meal times.
So, Sylvia had been glad to hear about the quilting and was especially glad that Shana had joined them. She was spending a few days at Katie and Jonas’ while the work at her own home was not as busy. Yet, with the other women so nearby, Sylvia knew that this wasn’t the time or the place. With a big sigh, she realized that there never seemed to be a good time or place anymore. She was either completely alone or she was in a crowd of people where intimate conversation was impossible. Even at the Mennonite church that she and Jake frequented, she felt as though she was a stranger. Different people, different sermons, and different songs. The culture was too different for her own comfort.
Later that night, she prepared the evening meal. The kitchen smelled of fried pork chops, creamed corn, and fresh biscuits. She had set the table for the two of them, always putting her place setting to the right of Jake. Every evening, she hoped that there would be a glimmer of that spark in his eyes when he came through the door. Tonight was no different. So, with bated breath, she waited to hear his footsteps on the porch steps and then crossing the porch to the front door. The door squeaked and a gush of cold air came into the room.
He greeted her with a warm smile as he took off his coat and gloves. “Sure is cold out there tonight.”
She hesitated before approaching him, reaching to take his outer garments. “Go warm up by the heater and I’ll take care of these, Jake.”
Without another word, he walked over to the kerosene heater and pulled the kitchen chair over to it. Rubbing his hands before it, he did his best to regain warmth. With the door shut again, the cold air quickly dissipated. “Today was your quilting, wasn’t it?” He shifted the chair back to the table. “Did you have a nice time?”
A nice time, she thought. What is a nice time these days? She wanted to tell him the truth, that she had felt like a stranger among those women. They didn’t look at her the same way, they spoke differently around her, and they regarded her with caution and a level of distrust. She was the outsider and it had hurt. But there was no benefit to sharing this with him. Perhaps he would think that she wanted him to feel sorry for her and that tiptoed too close to manipulation and even a touch of pride.
“It was quite nice,” she heard herself say. “Shana was there.”
“And how are you feeling?”
The question was always the same. He asked about her day first and how she was feeling second. She smiled as she dished food onto two plates. “Are you asking about the baby?”
“Well, I suppose at this point, I consider you both one and the same,” he replied, an unsettling emptiness in his voice.
Setting his supper on the table at his place setting, Sylvia sat down next to him. “I think we are both feeling fine tonight.”
After the silent blessing over their food, Jake began to eat while Sylvia sat quietly for a moment, watching him. He glanced at her, surprised to see her eyes upon him. Setting his fork down, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and met her gaze. “Seems like we’re going to get some snow in the next day or so. We should probably head to market tomorrow and stock up. Once the snow falls, I don’t want you on the road in a wagon, buggy, or truck.”
“I can make a list after I clear the supper dishes,” she said, too aware of his protective proclamation. She wouldn’t act against his wishes and she understood his trepidation about poor weather and an accident. But she wasn’t certain she appreciated the gruffness with how he spoke to her. “It would be nice to go out together tomorrow. It’s been a while, ja?” He didn’t respond but turned back to eating his supper. “Jake?” she asked cautiously. “Mayhaps you’d feel better if you talked about what’s eating at you so.”
He took a quick, short breath and sat back in his chair. For a long moment, he stared at her. His eyes seemed to study every feature of her face as if trying to memorize them. When he was done, he gave a short shake of his head and forced a small smile. “Nothing’s eating at me, Sylvia. Just worry.”
“Worry?” she asked. “What could you be worried about, Jake?”
“What could I be worried about?” he repeated. Reaching for her hand, he held it. Both of their hands rested on the table and he caressed the back of her hand with his thumbs. “Let’s start with you.”
“Me?” she asked, her voice high pitched and
unable to hide her surprise. All along, she had been fighting the urge to worry about Jake. Despite her upbringing, she couldn’t help but find herself concerned. Yet, at the same time, he was worried about her? She found that incredulous. He had nothing to worry about when it came to her. The sun rose and set on her love for Jake Edwards, even during this trying time. “That’s rather unnecessary,” she added softly. “To worry is to show that you don’t trust in God.”
“I don’t think you understand,” he said as he withdrew his hand from hers and picked up his fork. He poked at the food on his plate. “If anything happened to you, Sylvia…” The words lingered between them because he couldn’t finish the sentence.
“It’s not up to me, Jake, but up to God. However, I have no fears about having this baby,” she reassured him. She knew that was only partially true. Every first time mother had trepidation about childbirth. The idea of the unknown, both during and after, was certain to scare any woman. But Sylvia was raised to know that children would be part of her life and she was eager to have her own. God would protect her, if that was His plans.
