The Wish

by Beverly Lewis

  “Don’t wait too long,” Mamma added, “or the grapevine will have it to him first.”

  “I won’t.” Leona looked forward to asking for her future father-in-law’s wisdom regarding Gloria. Perhaps he knows a way to cut right to the heart of the matter. . . .

  CHAPTER

  30

  Leona was puzzled when she had to prod Gloria into going over to the Millers’ farmhouse later. “You were ever so curious before.”

  “I’m having second thoughts,” Gloria said, still sitting behind the steering wheel of her car, phone in hand. “I’d rather not raise eyebrows.”

  Leona had been worried because Gloria hadn’t returned indoors after some time. Gloria claimed she’d been listening to music and texting, but her eyes were red and swollen. Did she receive a troubling message?

  “It’s all right if you don’t want to go,” Leona said. “But if you’re thinkin’ of sitting here awhile longer, I might run a quick errand to the neighbors’ before my driver comes to take me to work.”

  This seemed to be the push Gloria needed, because she immediately turned off the ignition and said she didn’t want to seem like she was changeable. “After all, it’s not really so peculiar, is it?”

  “Ach no, lots of folk visit their childhood home.”

  This brought a smile to Gloria’s face, and she slipped her phone into her skirt pocket. “Are you ready to go now?”

  Gloria could be quite decisive when she wanted to be, Leona knew, and she matched her stride to her friend’s as they walked down the narrow lane toward the road.

  Gloria leaned her head back and squinted into the sunshine. She seemed so much more carefree away from her car. And that pesky phone!

  “I’m glad you talked me into this,” Gloria said. “Well, you didn’t really . . . but thanks for getting me out of my mood.” She laughed. “I feel like a kid today. Maybe it’s just being back here again, ya know?”

  “We’re all children inside, ain’t?”

  Gloria was quiet suddenly. Then she said softly, “I have to confess I’m not doing very well with twenty-one.”

  Looking at her, Leona knew from the ripple in Gloria’s jaw and the downturn of her mouth that she was admitting something difficult. “Is that part of why ya came home with me?”

  Gloria nodded and slowed her pace. “I’m here to figure that out.”

  Leona picked up a walking stick she found on the roadside, one Dawdi Benuel may have left there for his occasional afternoon jaunts. “What would you change, if ya could?”

  “Some days just about everything . . . and other days, nothing at all.” Gloria smiled, reaching for Leona’s hand. “Remember when we walked together everywhere, holding hands like sisters?”

  Leona had never forgotten. She had been her best self when with Gloria. “It was a wunnerbaar-gut time of my life.”

  “But you have Tom now to take my place.”

  “No one takes anyone’s place, silly.”

  Gloria’s eyes were serious. “You’re looking forward to marrying him, aren’t you?”

  “He’s my one and only love.” It felt so good to declare it.

  Gloria paused, then shook her head. “I can’t say that about Darren.”

  “Maybe sometimes we have to experience more than one dating relationship to know what’s best for us,” Leona suggested.

  “That only makes things more complicated.” Gloria frowned. “If I could have experienced the kind of love you and Tom have, I doubt I would have gone out with anyone else.”

  “Makes sense.” Leona was pleased to hear Gloria express herself so openly, yet her frankness seemed to come in waves.

  The redbrick house loomed in the near distance, and Leona pointed to the little white potting shed on its south side. “Isn’t that new?”

  Gloria released Leona’s hand. “Oh, I can hardly wait to see my old room again! I sure hope we can.”

  When they arrived, Ada Miller called to Leona from the backyard, where she was mulching her flower bed. “Hullo there. Are yous out for a nice walk?”

  Right away, Leona introduced Gloria, and Ada said she remembered her. “Never forgot those deep auburn locks.”

  Gloria blushed and glanced at Leona, who knew it was up to her to make their request.

  “Gloria’s curious if ya would mind letting her see the house.”

  “Ah—you lived here once, didn’t ya?” Ada brushed off her hands on her black work apron.

  “For six years,” Gloria spoke up. “If it suits you, I’d be grateful.”

  “Kumm mit.” Ada led the way up the back steps and inside.

  Leona took it all in. In the kitchen, someone had put down shiny new linoleum similar to what Mahlon chose last year for Maggie’s kitchen. She marveled at the beautifully crafted oak cupboards all along one wall, and the new window trim and mopboards. Not fancy, really, just up-to-date.

  Gloria remarked on the remodel. “I think my mom would really love to see it the way it is now.”

  “It was quite a lot of work for Jacob . . . did every inch of it himself. I’m mighty grateful.” Ada removed a child’s plastic apron from the wooden bench pushed up next to the long trestle table. “The children won’t be at school much longer. School’s out soon for the summer, so I’ll have more help round the house again.”

  “Everything’s neat as a pin,” Gloria said. “Just the way Leona’s mother keeps house—polished and nearly perfect.”

  Leona agreed and, at Ada’s urging, followed Gloria to the stairs. “Just make yourselves at home, girls.”

  “Denki,” Gloria said. “Real nice of you.”

  Upstairs, the hardwood floor gleamed in the sunlight from the tall window at the end of the hallway. Leona remembered sliding along the floor on pillows when she’d stayed there during her mother’s illness.

  Gloria must have remembered, too. “Goodness, we were in so much trouble that night we used our feather pillows for sleds down this hallway.”

  “Your father wasn’t very happy with us,” Leona said.

  “But Mom didn’t seem to mind—she just hung back and looked on while my father raised his voice. I often wondered if perhaps she wouldn’t have joined in the fun, had she been younger.”

  “Your Dat was always the strict one, jah?”

  “Oh, no question.” Gloria motioned to Leona, and they stepped into her former bedroom, where light poured in from two large windows, the green shades rolled up to the tip-top of their frames.

  Gloria looked around, a dazed smile on her face. “I’ve never had another room as nice as this one,” she said almost reverently. “One that looked out to tree branches thick with leaves for months on end.”

  “It almost seems like a tree house. We’re so high up off the ground.”

  Gloria pointed out the dark hues of the bed quilt and the solitary tall chest of drawers without a mirror. “Looks like one of Ada’s sons occupies this room now.” She went to stand near the north wall, where an oak writing desk was positioned. On a desk blotter, a dozen or more ballpoint pens stood in a black mug. “My bed was here on this wall,” she said quietly.

  “And your dresser was over there.” Leona pointed in the opposite direction.

  Gloria sighed, her hand on her chest. “In a way, it’s like I never left.” She moved across to the nearest window, her shoulders moving up and down.

  Leona dared not disturb the moment, whatever was happening. Gloria was clearly struggling.

  When she spoke, her voice was hushed. “I used to dream of being married to your cousin.” Gloria crept closer to the window, her face inches from the glass, as if looking for something in the fields beyond.

  Then Leona realized she was staring at the windowpane.

  “There it is.” Gloria pointed to the upper right edge.

  Going to Gloria’s side, Leona saw two tiny nicks in the glass, impossible to detect from across the room.

  “Orchard John came to see me a week before we left.” Gloria stepped bac
k, still staring at the window. “I always thought he’d intended to propose.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Leona replied. “What did you say?”

  “He didn’t get the chance . . . I never went to the window. Never went downstairs to greet him.” Gloria sighed. “I’m sure he waited for the longest time, hoping.”

  “But ya loved him—you told me so.”

  Gloria nodded. “My father thought I should get to know more than one fellow before I settled down. Then we moved away, and it was too late to let John know why I never answered.”

  Leona’s heart was pained for her. “Aw, Gloria . . . I didn’t know he meant that much to ya.”

  Gloria whispered, “I wanted to see this window again to believe it actually happened.”

  They stood there, side by side, and talked for a while longer about other memories shared in Gloria’s room. Then Leona told her, “Orchard John is still single. Not even a steady girlfriend.”

  Gloria turned to stare at her. “I never thought to ask—I was sure he’d have found someone by now.”

  Leona shook her head, and Gloria’s spirits seemed to lift, if only for a moment. Then she pursed her lips, and her mood slipped again. “Not that it matters anymore.”

  Quietly, they made their way back downstairs.

  Ada Miller was still on her hands and knees, working in her flower bed just outside the back door. “Well, that was quick, girls. Did ya see everything you wanted to?”

  “Denki,” Gloria was quick to say. “I hope we weren’t too bold, just showing up.”

  “Kumme again, if ya want to.” Ada wiped her brow.

  Leona nodded. “Tell Rebekah we said hullo.”

  “Ach, you should go an’ see her and her little ones. Cutest little fellas—mirror images of each other.”

  Leona knew Gloria was ready to head back to the house. “If there’s time, we might.” She mentioned she needed to meet her driver soon to head for work.

  “Your sister-in-law must have her hands full with a shop and a family.” Ada smiled.

  “She manages with her parents living nearby. They help with Marianna during the school year and the rest of the children in the summer.”

  Gloria and Leona thanked her again and waved good-bye.

  All during the walk home, the image of Gloria trying not to cry beside the nicked window lingered in Leona’s mind. How very different things would be this day if Arkansas Joe hadn’t stood in the way of Orchard John’s proposal.

  CHAPTER

  31

  While Leona was busy working at Maggie’s store, Gloria offered to help Millie hitch up the road horse to the family carriage. Millie had invited her to ride along to Good’s Store in Quarryville for some fabric and sewing notions for a dress Millie needed to make.

  Gloria held the shafts as Millie led the horse in, surprised at how much fun this was. She loved being around the farm again, especially the horses. Even hitching up wasn’t a bother today.

  “I must be a farm girl at heart,” she told Millie. “Would you mind if I drove us to the store?”

  Millie gave a small smile. “Not so much.”

  “It has been a couple years, but I still remember what to do.” At least, I hope so!

  “Well, we’re not goin’ far,” Millie replied as they worked as a team to hook the back hold straps. “So why not?”

  “Thanks so much. Denki, I mean.”

  Millie looked her way curiously. “Do you miss doin’ this?”

  “I guess I do,” Gloria confessed. “A car sure doesn’t have the personality of a horse!”

  This brought a rare chuckle from Millie, and Gloria laughed along.

  The cashier at Good’s Store was Orchard John’s younger sister, Naomi Speicher, who blinked her pretty blue eyes, obviously startled when she recognized Gloria with Naomi’s aunt Millie. “Ach, goodness! John said he thought you were here visitin’.” Naomi seemed flustered and uncertain what to say, not at all like the girl Gloria remembered.

  “How long will ya be around?” Naomi asked, her blond hair perfectly twisted along the sides and back into a thick low bun.

  “Just a couple more days. I need to get back to work.”

  “Well, hope ya stay for Preaching.”

  Gloria smiled at Millie. “If Pete and Millie can put up with me for that long.”

  Millie replied, “Stay as long as you like.”

  “That’s sweet of you,” Gloria said, touched that Millie wouldn’t mind a longer visit.

  “Is it okay to tell Orchard John I saw ya?” asked Naomi.

  Gloria hesitated. What would it matter to John?

  “If you want to.” Gloria waited for Millie to pay for her spools of thread and packet of sewing needles, then said good-day.

  Back outdoors, Millie went to the driver’s side of the buggy after untying the horse from the hitching post. Millie must feel more at ease in the driver’s seat, she thought. Guess I need practice.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she wished she hadn’t brought it. She certainly wasn’t doing too well with her plan to go unplugged!

  She pulled it out to look.

  I hope you’re having a good time, Darren had texted.

  She decided to reply quickly while Millie backed the horse out of the parking spot: There’s no electricity where I’m staying, so I’ll be unplugged again today.

  She was about to return the phone to her pocket when another text announced itself. Maybe I’ll just give you a quick call.

  So sorry, but now isn’t a good time. She closed the message app and turned off her phone, this time pushing it deep into her purse. Darren will survive the rest of the day without hearing from me.

  Millie took the back roads, mentioning it was “a real perty way home.” Feeling more relaxed, Gloria enjoyed the familiar scenery, thinking how odd it had been to run into Orchard John’s sister.

  What if I did stay around for church Sunday?

  Millie looked altogether pleased when Gloria asked if she could lay out Millie’s dress fabric for her on the kitchen table. “I’d really like to help,” Gloria said. “I’ll be sure to redd up.” Gloria knew how spotless Millie preferred to keep things.

  “Well, if you’re sure, Gloria, I could do another chore.”

  Her pulse quickened—sewing had always been one of her favorite pastimes. She remembered doing it while her mother baked pastries and loaves of bread. At least one of us was doing something we loved then, she thought, glad Millie would be just around the corner mending in the sitting room.

  “If you need assistance, don’t be shy,” Millie said with a glance over her shoulder.

  “Thanks . . . er, denki.” Millie had always impressed her as being a kind and helpful woman, never flashy or insincere. Like Pete, she was also devout. Gloria had sometimes wished her own father was more like Leona’s in the way he treasured the old Biewel, reverently reading with the family each morning and evening.

  The grass is always greener, I guess. . . .

  When she’d pinned the pattern to the dress material, she asked Millie to double-check everything before beginning to carefully cut along the dark lines, then trimming away the excess fabric.

  When she was finished, Millie asked if she’d like to sew the long seams for her, and Gloria readily agreed. “Be sure to open the windows in the sewing room,” Millie suggested. “It tends to get stuffy up there.”

  After a few false starts on the treadle, Gloria’s feet got into the familiar old rhythm. It was all coming back. And while she guided the fast-moving needle along the seams, she was reminded of how she used to make little britches for her younger brothers or hand stitch the facing for their small black church vests. She had also sewn a shirt or two for her father, though not to his satisfaction—Mom had taken over to rework some of the details. “That would be fine for the boys,” her father had said, “but I want mine to look store-bought.”

  When Gloria had completed the seams, she returned to the kitchen, where Milli
e set up the ironing board so she could press them nice and flat.

  “Do you think your father-in-law would be napping just now?” Gloria asked, wanting to pay him a visit.

  Millie laughed. “He perty much naps all the time on days after he helps Pete in the barn. Even if ya have to wake him, he’ll be glad to see ya.”

  Gloria thanked her and folded up the ironing board, stowing it away before heading over to visit with Benuel.

  “I can’t be sure, really,” Leona was telling Maggie at the shop. She was walking a thin line, trying not to divulge any confidences. “But it seems like Gloria is tryin’ to work through some things.”

  “That would explain why she came back with you.” Maggie sharpened her pencil, then pushed it behind her ear.

  “Honestly, I thought she just needed to get away from her boyfriend for a few days. But now I think there’s more to it.”

  They worked together on the inventory of all the handmade linens and whatnot prior to the big summer tourist season, just around the corner.

  “Gloria could have been our cousin-in-law by now,” Leona said softly, “had she stayed.”

  “Who knows if you might not have married Adam Gingerich, too,” Maggie said, a glint of humor in her eyes.

  “Ach, Adam and I were never serious.” Leona had to laugh. “I know for sure Tom’s the man for me!”

  Maggie smiled as she jotted down the number of doilies with tatting around the edges.

  Leona continued counting the embroidered pillowcases, making sure each was a matched set. She couldn’t help but wonder what Gloria was doing at home. Dear ferhoodled friend.

  She thought again of Tom, wondering how soon she might see him. He trusted me completely, letting me go to Arkansas.

  Gloria followed the garden path around to the Dawdi Haus, where Millie’s tea roses would bloom in June on a white trellis Pete had made years ago. Brilliant lilies would appear, as well, scenting the air close to Benuel’s private back porch.

  She made her way up the steps and hesitated a moment before lightly rapping on the screen door, lest she startle Leona’s grandfather. When no one came, she knocked again, this time more firmly, and Benuel Speicher’s frail voice called for her to come in.