The Courtship Basket

by Amy Clipston

  His glance moved to the opposite side of the room where Janie stood with John. Holding his hand, Janie bent down and whispered something in his ear. A wave of grief doused Mike as he recalled how difficult it was for him to tell John that Dat had passed away. His spirit crumbled at the memory of the sound of his brother’s sobs.

  Hand in hand, Janie and John walked over to Mike.

  “We’re going for a walk,” Janie said. “We’ve decided we need to get some fresh air.”

  “That sounds gut.” Mike smiled at John. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  John nodded before Janie led him through the crowd of people.

  Janie and Marie continued to be a tremendous help to Mike. Not only had they handled the household chores, but they had also kept John occupied while Mike and Onkel Tim took care of the funeral arrangements and paperwork.

  “You should get something to eat,” Marie whispered after a new line of mourners disappeared. “You haven’t eaten all day.”

  Mike nodded, realizing the cold and hollow feeling in his stomach wasn’t only grief—it was also hunger. His stomach rumbled in response. “I’ll eat something on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I can take the food out to my woodshop.” Mike breathed in the humid air. Janie was on the right track when she said she and John needed some fresh air. Despite having the windows open, the house remained hot and stuffy. “I need to get some air, and I need to get away from the crowd for a while.”

  “Fine,” Marie whispered. “Go on and take a break. My parents and I will handle the crowd.”

  “Danki.” Mike touched Marie’s arm before weaving through the knot of people, only stopping to shake hands when familiar faces blocked his path. He filled a plate with food and started for the back door, again stopping only when prompted by well-meaning members of the community.

  After nearly twenty minutes, Mike finally made it out onto the porch. He was greeted by dark, threatening clouds, which seemed appropriate the day of Dat’s wake. He rushed down the path, through the barn, and into the solace of his woodshop. He breathed a deep, cleansing breath, enjoying the quiet and the smell of animals and wood. He was thankful to be alone with his thoughts.

  Mike sat on the stool in front of the workbench and moved the food around on his plate. Despite the delicious aroma wafting up from the various casseroles and pasta dishes and his earlier pangs of hunger, the food didn’t appeal to him. He placed the plate on the workbench and picked up a block of wood. After turning it over in his hand, he began to sand it.

  The tedious work felt like a balm to his soul, and for the first time since Dat passed away, Mike was able to clear his mind.

  RACHEL’S BODY TREMBLED AS SHE SCANNED THE KNOT OF PEOPLE milling around the room. Mike’s handsome face was nowhere to be found.

  “I don’t see him,” Rachel whispered to Emily. She looked toward the far end of the room, where she found Marie standing with a middle-aged couple. “He should be standing with his cousin.” She nodded toward Marie.

  “Maybe he stepped outside for a minute?” Emily suggested. “Let’s go ask her.” She took Rachel’s hand in hers and steered her toward Marie.

  Rachel shook the man’s and woman’s hands, assuming they were Mike’s aenti and onkel. When she stepped over to Marie, Rachel pulled her into a hug.

  “I’m so sorry,” Rachel whispered, her voice trembling.

  “Danki.” Marie gave her a bleak smile.

  “Where are Mike and John?” she asked.

  “Mei schweschder took John for a walk.” Marie gestured toward the doorway. “Mike said he needed some air, so he took a plate of food out to his shop in the barn. He wanted to get away for a bit.”

  Rachel bit her lower lip while debating if she should go talk to him. Would it be rude to barge in on him, or would he want to see her? The questions whirled in her mind as her stomach tightened.

  “You can go see him.” Marie gave her a knowing smile. “His shop is in the back of the largest barn.”

  Yes, I remember.

  “Danki.” Rachel touched Emily’s arm. “I’ll be back.”

  Emily nodded. Rachel slipped through the kitchen and waved to her parents, who were talking with another couple. Then she hustled out the back door.

  Cool raindrops sprayed her face as she hurried across the lush grass to the barn. The aroma of dirt and animals assaulted her nostrils as she entered the barn and walked to the woodshop.

  She stopped in the doorway. Her hands shook and her back stiffened as she took in Mike’s handsome profile. Her eyes prickled with fresh tears as he sanded the piece of wood as if it were the most important task in the world.

  Several minutes passed, and she wondered if he didn’t see her in his peripheral vision or if he was ignoring her. The rain beat on the roof above them. The window was open just enough that its sweet smell blended with the scent of animals and dirt.

  When Rachel thought the silence between them might suffocate her, she finally spoke. “Mike,” her voice croaked.

  Mike slowly turned toward her, but his face remained stoic. Violet circles outlined his dull eyes, and his mouth was turned down in a deep frown. He didn’t speak. Instead, he held the block of wood and sandpaper in his hands as his cool, blue eyes assessed her, as if she were a stranger. His icy stare caused her breath to hitch in her chest.

  “I’m so sorry about your dat,” she said, her voice still trembling with grief and regret.

  Mike placed the wood and sandpaper on the workbench behind him and then turned toward her again. “I’m surprised to see you.” He gave her a murderous look.

  She shivered. “Why are you surprised? You didn’t think I would come to your father’s wake?”

  “No, I really didn’t think you’d come.” He folded his arms over his chest.

  His cruel words stabbed at her chest. “Why not?” she asked.

  “You stopped speaking to me,” he said, holding up his hands. “You just dropped me as if I didn’t matter to you. I’ve been trying to figure out what changed between us. Did you get back together with David?”

  “No,” she said quickly, stepping into the small woodshop. “I didn’t get back together with David. I was wrong not to call you back last week. I’m so sorry.”

  He studied her again, and her mouth dried. “Why did you suddenly stop talking to me?”

  “It was a misunderstanding,” she said, her words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. “I went to visit you at work a couple of weeks ago because I was worried about your dat. When I went back in the shop to see you, you were talking to a pretty maedel, and I misunderstood your body language. Your conversation seemed so intimate, and I thought she was your girlfriend. I thought you were seeing someone behind my back. I was so hurt that I left without talking to you.”

  “You saw me talking to a maedel?” Mike paused for a moment, and then realization flickered in his eyes. “Did you see me talking to my cousin Janie?”

  “Ya.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know who Janie was, and I wasn’t just hurt because I thought you were seeing someone behind my back. I was also jealous. I know jealousy is a sin, but . . . she was so pretty. I was so wrong not to trust you. I’m sorry, Mike. Please forgive me.”

  “You saw me talking to a maedel you didn’t know, and you immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion?” His voice was acidic. “You didn’t even give me a chance to explain. You just assumed I was betraying you, just as David did. When did I ever give you the impression that I was like David?”

  A tear escaped her eye. “You never gave me a reason not to trust you.” She pointed to her chest. “It was my fault. I let my temper and my insecurities get the best of me, and I was wrong, completely wrong.”

  “You didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself,” Mike repeated, his voice rising with anger. “Janie and I were talking about mei dat and how worried we were about him. I asked Janie how I should talk to John a
bout mei dat since mei dat seemed to be getting worse. That’s all it was—a conversation between cousins. Janie and Marie are more like my schweschdere than my cousins.”

  His expression darkened. “Sam told me you stopped by, and I couldn’t understand why you didn’t come to see me. I was worried about you. I tried to call you and I wrote notes to you in the school journal, but you just threw our friendship away as if it were nothing.”

  “Your friendship means a lot to me, and I miss you.” Rachel took a step toward him as more tears flowed down her face. “I made a terrible mistake.”

  “I needed you this week,” he continued. “I just went through the most difficult week of my life, and I truly needed a freind. There were so many times when I wished I could talk to you, but you had rejected me as if I were nothing.” He cleared his throat. “You broke my heart.” His voice quavered, and his eyes sparkled with tears.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, reaching for him. “I wish I had been there for you. I wish I had been in the hospital with you to hold your hand.”

  Mike leaned back on the stool, away from her touch.

  “Let me make it up to you,” she whispered. “Please forgive me.”

  “Of course I forgive you,” he said, scowling. “But nothing will ever be the same between us.” He turned away from her, and facing his workbench, he began sanding the block of wood again.

  Rachel wiped away the tears with her fingertips as he worked. “What are you making?” she asked, her voice thin and shaky.

  “I’m not sure yet.” He kept his back to her.

  She silently racked her brain for what she could say to make things right between them. Several minutes passed, the rain still beating on the roof above them.

  “Mike,” she began, hugging her arms to her middle. “When I met you, I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I had just lost my boyfriend and my best friend, and my heart was shattered. As I got to know you, I could feel myself getting attached to you, and it scared me. I had assumed it would take years for me to meet someone special.” She took a deep breath. “But as much as I tried to resist my feelings for you, they blossomed like the daffodils in the spring.”

  She took another shaky breath. “So when I saw you with Janie last week, I panicked. I thought our friendship was too gut to be true, and I thought I had misread how you felt about me. I was afraid I had fallen in love too soon, and the best thing I could do was pull away before you hurt me. The problem was, I had already given you my heart, and I wound up hurt anyway.”

  While she talked, Mike had stopped sanding and turned toward her. Now he closed his eyes for a moment. She waited for him to speak, but he remained silent.

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” she said, her voice becoming thinner and shakier as she continued. “I understand why you can never trust me again, but I’m going to miss you. I’m going to miss our talks and picnics and ice cream. And I’m going to miss spending time with John. I’m sorry I messed this up.”

  Mike bent his head and resumed sanding. She waited a few moments, and when he didn’t respond, she took it as a sign that she should leave.

  “Good-bye.” Rachel choked back a sob and then ran out of the barn and into the rain. She hid around the side of the barn and leaned against it as she fought to stop her tears.

  MIKE PUT DOWN THE WOOD AND SANDPAPER. HE COVERED his face with his hands and took a deep, shuddering breath. When he first saw Rachel, he’d longed to wrap his arms around her, bury his face in her neck, and cry, releasing all the grief he’d held in since he’d lost his father. Mike craved her friendship and her stability, but he couldn’t bring himself to allow her to hurt him any more than she already had.

  His stomach had churned with anger when she told him she’d thought he was cheating on her, all because she saw him with Janie. How could she not trust him when he’d opened up his heart to her? To make matters worse, why hadn’t she asked him who Janie was? It seemed the misunderstanding could have been remedied with a simple conversation. Instead, Rachel had completely shut him out when he’d needed her most.

  Mike looked toward the corner of the small woodshop, where he saw the shelf he’d been working on the first time Rachel visited him here. They’d barely known each other back then, but now they weren’t even friends. If only he could go back to that first day she’d tutored John so he could start fresh with her.

  Mike missed Rachel. He missed their talks. He missed her beautiful smile and the sound of her laughter. He missed the way she interacted with John. If only they could make things right, but it was too late. Mike’s soul was shredded, and he couldn’t allow Rachel or any other maedel back into his life.

  RACHEL MANAGED TO KEEP HER EMOTIONS IN CHECK UNTIL she arrived home later that evening. As she climbed the porch steps, her eyes moved to the small planter Mike and John had given her, and a pang of sadness and regret slammed into her chest. The cheerful pink Gerber daisies seemed to heckle the anguish flooding her. When a butterfly flittered near the planter, Rachel gasped as tears prickled her eyes.

  “Let’s make some tea,” Emily said, touching Rachel’s shoulder. “We need to talk.”

  “Ya,” Rachel whispered, her voice caught in her throat. She was thankful her sister knew just what she needed.

  As Dat disappeared into the barn to care for the animals, Rachel stepped into the kitchen behind Mamm and Emily.

  “I’ve lost him forever,” Rachel managed to say as she flopped into a chair at the table. “I apologized to him over and over again, but he said things will never be the same between us.”

  “Ach, no,” Mamm said, slipping into the chair beside her.

  “What happened?” Emily sat down on Rachel’s other side.

  Rachel blotted her eyes with a tissue from her pocket as she shared the conversation she’d had with Mike. Mamm and Emily shook their heads as empathy gleamed in their eyes.

  “I should’ve asked him who Janie was instead of assuming he was seeing another maedel behind my back,” Rachel said, her voice shaky. “I let my stubbornness get the best of me again.”

  Mamm pulled Rachel into a warm hug. “Don’t give up on him. He just lost his dat, and his emotions are a jumbled mess. You can reach out to him again in a couple of weeks.”

  “Mamm is right,” Emily chimed in. “We can send meals over to him, and we can even visit him.” She stood. “We can start cooking now.” She glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s the basket?”

  Rachel sniffed. “I left it at his haus Monday when I went to see him. I’ll have to leave him a message and ask him to have John bring it to school.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Mamm said with an encouraging smile. “You can show Mike how much he and John mean to you, and he’ll realize you made a mistake. Just be patient with him. I know what it’s like to go through a devastating loss, and it sometimes takes awhile before you can think clearly again.”

  Rachel nodded, but deep in her soul, she doubted any number of meals could make Mike realize how much she loved and missed him.

  MIKE GLANCED AROUND THE KITCHEN AND RUBBED THE BACK of his aching neck. “I appreciate everyone who came by today, but I’m also relieved it’s over.”

  Janie and Marie nodded in unison as they sat across from him at the kitchen table that evening.

  “I can’t believe all the food you have.” Janie pointed her fork toward her plate full of a variety of casseroles. “We should probably freeze some of it so it doesn’t go bad.”

  Mike finished chewing what he thought was a chicken casserole and then swallowed. The casserole tasted more like sawdust to him than chicken. “That’s a gut idea. Before I go to bed, I’ll sort through it and see what I can take to the big freezer next door.”

  Mike peered down at the plate Janie had filled for him, but his appetite was still nonexistent. He glanced over at the counter, still full of casserole dishes, and his eyes locked on Rachel’s basket. He got up and walked over to the basket, studying it as if seeing it for the fir
st time.

  “When did Rachel bring this over?” he asked his cousins.

  A look of alarm appeared on Janie’s face.

  “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you! I was just so distracted by everything that was happening with your dat. Rachel came to see you Monday when she heard he was in the hospital.”

  She shook her head, her expression becoming grim. “She was so upset. She cried when I told her your father was in a coma, and she looked as if she was trying not to cry again when she talked to John.” Her eyes were full of warmth. “I know you’ve been upset with Rachel, but she truly cares about you, Mike. She was devastated when we talked about your dat. I could tell she really cares about John, and he adores her too. He wrapped his arms around her when he found us talking in the kitchen.”

  “Janie is right,” Marie chimed in. “I talked to Rachel during the visitation, and she was really upset. She hugged me when she saw me, and she immediately asked where you and John were. Did you get to talk to her? I told her you were out in your shop.”

  “Ya, I did.” Guilt stole his breath as he picked up the basket. He recalled their painful conversation and the grief in Rachel’s eyes. Had he been wrong to push her away when she reached out to him?

  He lifted the basket lid and his eyes took in the Scripture verse written on the wood: And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.

  Mike closed his eyes as the Scripture verse echoed through his mind. And then something in his mind and heart seemed to click.

  God had sent Rachel to Mike and John when they needed a friend. Rachel had broken down the barriers around Mike’s heart and showed him what true love could mean.

  Mike’s chest squeezed with a further revelation—he loved Rachel, and he didn’t want to lose her. He and John both needed her.

  His breath came in quick bursts. “I need to go see Rachel. I have to take her the basket. Are your parents still here? Did their driver leave?”

  “I think they’re still here, but don’t you think you should wait?” Marie asked, giving Janie a look of confusion. “It’s late.”