by Kelly Irvin
God’s overwhelming grace swept over her. She managed a shaky smile. “I don’t recall being asked to be anyone’s fraa.”
His arms tightened. His chin nuzzled her kapp. “How do you feel about a dawdy haus and kinner running everywhere and digging sweet potatoes in the fall and picking walnuts and reading me your stories on cool fall nights?”
She shifted so she could look directly into his eyes. “It sounds wunderbarr.”
His face hovered over hers for a few seconds. Their lips met. The new silence in Mary Katherine’s head filled with possibilities. Stories yet to be told. Giggles over silliness yet to be invented. Pies and chamomile tea with fresh lemon yet to be squeezed. Discussions of life’s oddities yet to be wrangled.
“Are you sure you’ll be happy?” He leaned back and stared into her face. “No voices in your head?”
“Only the one begging me to eat that chocolate cupcake.”
He snatched one from the saucer and held it out to her.
“You first.”
He took a big bite. His eyes rolled back. A hum like a cat’s purr came from deep in his throat. Frosting decorated his lips and crumbs nestled in his beard. He chewed and grinned. “That is gut.”
She returned the grin and dusted the crumbs from his beard. “I’m so glad you like it.”
He offered the sad remains to her. She shook her head. “I want my own.”
“Are you afraid of my germs?”
“Ha.” She kissed him quick and hard square on the lips. “I don’t think so.”
He shifted so he could set his cupcake back on the plate and present her with the pristine, lovely one. She reached for it. At the last second he whipped it to his mouth and took another big bite.
Mary Katherine giggled and smacked his shoulder. “How could you?”
Frosting on his cheek now, he grinned as he chewed and swallowed. “I couldn’t help myself. They are so gut.”
She tucked his face between her hands and drew him in. “Life with you will be sweet.” She kissed his lips and tasted chocolate, butter, and the joy of a new dream. His lips promised her a new story every day for the rest of her life. “I lieb you.”
He smiled. “You’ll marry me then?”
“I’m sitting on your lap, Ezekiel Miller.”
“True. I lieb you too.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “When?”
“Life is short.”
“Then we’ll talk to Solomon tomorrow.”
Their new story, written in love and second chances, had begun.
EPILOGUE
She might be wrinkled, gray, and a little stoop-shouldered on the outside, but on the inside Mary Katherine was twenty again. She’d done all this before. Yet it was new and special and like a wonderful dream on this late November day. How could it not be different? Her ten children and twenty-seven grandchildren sat—or wiggled—in the congregation that filled Thomas’s barn to the rafters. Her parents were no longer with her. But they knew. Somehow, they knew. Dottie sat on a bench next to Carina. Burke kept Kenneth and Ezekiel’s other grandsons company on the men’s side. Her friends and family joined together to dedicate and celebrate a new beginning for Ezekiel and her as a married couple.
Mary Katherine’s insides quivered. Her legs trembled. Please, Gott, don’t let them collapse under me. Just a few more minutes. She clasped her hands in front of her to keep her fingers from plucking at her apron. Tears threatened. The faint scent of hay and manure grounded her. Her legs steadied. She glanced at Ezekiel, standing next to her with his sons, John and Andrew, as his witnesses. His lips turned up ever so slightly. His warm almond eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses encouraged her.
She focused on Freeman and his sonorous voice. Did she promise to take care of Ezekiel in sickness and in health as fitting a Christian wife? At their age, that was a given. And with Ezekiel’s diabetes. She’d have to smack his hand if he tried to sneak a piece of the regular wedding cake. She’d made a sugar-free one especially for him. “Jah.”
Did they promise to love and bear and be patient with each other and not separate from each other until dear God shall part them from each other through death? At twenty, that question had been so simple, so easy, because death had seemed a far, far speck in a distant future. At sixty, she’d shed any naïveté about the possibility—the near certainty—of the sudden cataclysmic void caused by the death of a loved one. A person could not love without risk. True love welcomed the risk. Better to risk it all than live with the deeper void of no love at all. “Jah.”
The making of the vows ended. They returned to their seats. Blessings were offered. They knelt with the rest of the congregation and prayed.
It was over. And just beginning.
“Do you feel different?” Barbara beamed down at her. “How funny it feels to know I’ve been married longer than you have.”
“Help an old woman up.” Mary Katherine’s insides had stopped quivering, but her hip and back hurt from sitting on the bench for the three-hour church service. “I still have more experience.”
“Maybe so.” Barbara grabbed Mary Katherine’s arm and pulled her to her feet. She leaned closer. “But I reckon I still can do something you can’t.”
She glanced around, then patted her belly. Laughing, she scooted toward the door, dodging guests left and right. “I’m a server. I have to get inside before the tables fill up.”
She took off before Mary Katherine could confirm. If Samantha carried number twenty-eight then Barbara’s would be number twenty-nine. More joy. She listened for a split second. No voice in her head shared the happy news with Moses. He knew. He didn’t need her updates. As Laura, Bess, Jennie, and the others descended on her with hugs, happy tears, and congratulations, she sought to find her new husband. Across the room Ezekiel was ten deep in men offering man-pats and similar words delivered in gruff voices. She smiled at him over Jennie’s shoulder. He grinned and shrugged.
Two hundred-plus wedding guests, and what she really wanted was to take a walk at sunset with her new husband, Sunny running circles around them. Or to sit on the front porch, her sewing in her lap, and watch him peruse the newspaper for tidbits that made him laugh aloud and read them to her. She wanted to make coffee and argue with him about whether he was allowed a teaspoon of sugar in it.
He wasn’t.
Until death do us part. She would take whatever time God gave them, but she would also take good care of Ezekiel. God expected that too.
“Come on, come on, let’s get inside.” Jennie tugged at her arm. “You have guests to greet.”
“But—”
“To the eck, to the eck.” Laura pushed from behind. “We have work to do.”
“Is everything ready?”
“Don’t you worry about a thing.” Bess brought up the rear. “Your dochders learned well from you.”
Five daughters. Five weddings. And helping the brides’ families for her five sons. She could coordinate a wedding in her sleep. “Are you sure there are enough pies? We could send Angus to the bakery in town—”
“Hush.” Laura pushed harder. They carried her along across the yard and into the house. The tables were decorated with white linen. Every place was set with a Styrofoam plate, silverware, and a glass. Dylan and Thomas’s boys served as water porters and were busy filling glasses as guests swarmed the chairs. Mary, Ellen, Beulah, and Barbara marched through the aisles, carrying trays filled with roast-chicken casserole, mashed potatoes, rolls, fruit, Jell-O salad, coleslaw, pickled beets, and much more in their hands.
How many brides had their daughters organize their weddings? Their sons serve as ushers? It should be bittersweet, but it wasn’t. It was lovely. Mary Katherine slipped into her seat at the corner wedding party table. Laura patted her shoulder. “I’ll fix a plate for you.”
“No hurry. I couldn’t eat a thing.”
“I could.” Ezekiel loomed over her. “I’m starved. This marriage business is work.”
A quiver of concern ran through M
ary Katherine. It had been a long morning. A long time since breakfast. “You need to eat.”
“Here we go, mudder bird.” He laughed and settled into the chair next to her. “I’m fine. I ate a gut breakfast. Leah was anxious this morning and fixed a huge spread. Eggs, bacon, toast, a small glass of juice. She even sent a peanut butter sandwich with me, just in case. No jam, in case you were wondering.”
A good daughter. A good daughter-in-law.
Under the tablecloth Ezekiel’s hand squeezed hers. Mary Katherine squeezed back as she studied his face. His eyes were clear. The laugh lines around his eyes and mouth were in full display. “How are you?”
“Eager to be alone with my fraa.” He ducked his head. “Those are words I never expected to say again.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. With my mann, I mean.”
“Look at the happy married couple!” Dottie sailed toward them, both hands in the air, an enormous smile on her face. She’d donned a pink Western-style dress and brown cowboy boots for the occasion. Her rhinestone earrings sparkled. “Hugs, hugs, I need hugs.”
Mary Katherine obliged. If Dottie felt any pangs of sadness on a day that surely reminded her of her loss, it didn’t show in her expression. She radiated joy for a friend’s good fortune. “Now you two take some time, honeymoon at Niagara Falls or someplace. I don’t expect to see you at the bookstore this next week. I’ve got it covered.”
They were still finding their way in this brand-new partnership. Mary Katherine more than Ezekiel, who still worked with Burke, teaching him the restaurant business. Every day was a blessing and an adventure. “Plain folks don’t take honeymoons.”
“No, but they take vacations. Take one. You two deserve it.” She kissed Mary Katherine’s cheek and trotted away. Her high Texas drawl floated over her shoulder. “I’m serious. If you show up at the store, I’m throwing you out with a swift kick in the seat of the pants.”
No doubt she could.
In her wake appeared Burke, followed by Carina. She wore an emerald-green tea-length dress that made her tawny skin luminous. “Best wishes to the bride and groom.” She held out a small brown paper–wrapped package. Burke, who’d chosen a black suit not so different from his Amish friends, did the same to Ezekiel. “Come on, open them. At the same time.”
They obliged. Two quick rips and Mary Katherine held a book entitled Don’ts for Wives, 1913, by Blanche Ebbutt. Ezekiel’s was identical, except for one word, Don’ts for Husbands, 1913.
“The advice is a hundred years old, but it’s still good.” Carina slipped her hand through the crook of Burke’s arm. “It’s really sweet too. They’re reprints, of course.”
“We figured you could use advice. You might have been married about seventy years between the two of you, but you’re both out of practice.” Burke’s fingers slid between Carina’s and their hands clasped. “Plus, you’re both hardheaded and stubborn and set in your ways.”
“Look who’s talking.” Carina’s laugh was deep and contagious. “Mr. I-can’t-visit-Virginia-I’m-too-busy.”
“Sorry about that. He’s a quick learner, but there’s a lot to learn in the restaurant business.” Ezekiel patted the book. “And thanks for this. It’s very . . . thoughtful.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Carina’s laughter died. Sudden emotion touched her eyes. “Actually, I wanted to thank you for saving his life. You gave him something to live for.”
“A person doesn’t live for a restaurant.” Ezekiel glanced at Mary Katherine. His smile held unspoken words. “Don’t let him tell you otherwise. We’ll train an assistant manager and Burke will have no excuses.”
“It’s not an excuse—”
“Hush.” Carina put a finger to Burke’s mouth. “Let’s find our seats and let these two celebrate.”
Still engaged in good-natured bickering, the two turned and disappeared into the milling crowd.
“What do you suppose is going on there?”
Ezekiel’s gaze followed their friends. “Something good I hope. Something that can overcome distance and lingering despair.”
Before Mary Katherine could respond, Nicole approached, Tony behind her. The girl had donned a simple blue dress that set off her beautiful peaches-and-cream complexion and deepened her gray eyes to pewter. It touched her knees and had long sleeves. Very modest. Tony looked like a scarecrow in an ill-fitting gray suit. He fidgeted with too-short sleeves but managed a grin. They were cute as could be. “Congrats, Mr. E., Mrs. M.”
“You made it. We’re so glad you could come.” Mary Katherine hadn’t been sure they would. That they were together was a perfect wedding gift. “Was it horrible sitting through three hours of talking in a language you don’t understand?”
“We were late so we missed some of it. Tony’s car wouldn’t start. Again.” Nicole pushed her hair from her face in a self-conscious gesture. “It was very interesting. Different. I would want flowers and a ring though. Definitely a ring.”
Tony cleared his throat. “Yeah, like how do people know you’re married to each other?”
“We know.” Ezekiel shrugged and patted his chest. “In here. That’s what counts.”
“It’s different.” Tony’s hand went to Nicole’s elbow. Her cheeks turned a deep scarlet, but she didn’t move away. Tony grinned. “This is like visiting a foreign country.”
An Amish wedding or trying to figure out girls? He could be referring to both. “You should get something to eat.” They were both beyond skinny. The mother in Mary Katherine wanted to fatten them up. “There’s cake and pie and cookies.”
“Did you hear about Bobby, Mark, Logan, and the other guys? Even Trevor got arrested.” Tony’s voice cracked in his excitement. “All they got was community service because you guys didn’t press charges. I don’t get that.”
“We don’t get involved in the legal system.” Ezekiel didn’t sound concerned over the leniency of the athletes’ punishment. “The coach meted out his own punishment, with the sheriff’s help. I reckon it’s enough being seen picking up trash along the highway wearing those orange vests. Not to mention everyone knowing what they did. No need to have it on their records.”
“No kidding.” Nicole glanced at her phone. “My mother texts me every two seconds now. She’s so sure I’ll get into trouble just because they did.”
“But you won’t.”
“Nope. It’s not worth it.” She turned to Tony. “Let’s get cake. I want chocolate.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
“You don’t have to wait on me.”
“You do enough waiting on people at the restaurant.” Tony put his arm around her shoulders. The crowd swallowed them up.
“Now’s our chance.” Ezekiel jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“We can’t.”
“Five minutes.”
Mary Katherine looked around. Family and friends talking, laughing, hugging, enjoying the moment. It might work. “It’s worth a try.”
They slipped out the door, across the porch, and into the yard, without a single person questioning their headlong flight. “Hurry!” Ezekiel sounded breathless—from laughter.
They dodged behind the barn and halted, more because neither could breathe from laughing than because of exertion. A chilly wind blew through Mary Katherine’s thin cotton dress. Clouds scudded across the sky and hid the sun. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle. “They’ll realize we’re gone in two seconds.”
“So get over here.” Ezekiel tugged her into his arms. The chill fled. “I’ve been thinking about this all morning.”
“Ezekiel! You mean during those sacred vows, you were looking at my lips?”
“Nee, but right after the amen part.”
Mary Katherine giggled and snuggled in his warm arms. “I feel . . . full of feelings.”
“Young, old, certain, uncertain, foolish, wise, experienced, inexperienced.”
“Exactly.”
“I feel like Gott
is so gut.” His embrace tightened. “He’s given me a gift.”
His lips met hers in a kiss that left no question how he felt. Years of loneliness, years of determined acceptance of their lot in life, years of looking back for fear of what lay ahead, disappeared. Replaced by anticipation of time shared, of knowing they would face the future as one body knitted together by the vows they’d taken before God and family.
The kiss ended. Breathless, warm, her heart ricocheting against her rib cage, Mary Katherine stared up at her husband. “I lieb you, Mann.”
“I lieb you, Fraa.”
Never had those words, imbued with such hope and second chance, been sweeter.
“Mary Katherine! Ezekiel!” Kenneth’s high, little boy voice carried on the stiff November breeze. “Laura says your food is getting cold.”
“I think we’ve been found.” Ezekiel’s grip didn’t loosen. “The food may be getting cold, but I’m not.” He kissed her again. A soft, lingering kiss full of promise.
As Kenneth’s urgent voice moved closer, they drew apart and went to embrace their new life.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1.Can you imagine yourself serving a meal to a man who broke into your house in the middle of the night? Why or why not? Do you think Mary Katherine, alone in the house with no phone, did the right thing?
2.Mary Katherine not only allows Burke to stay in her barn, she takes him to the Purple Martin Café to get him a job. What example does she set for Christians? Do her actions remind you of Jesus’ treatment of the poor or lost? What does it mean to have a heart that breaks for those who are less fortunate?
3.Mary Katherine’s son Thomas wants her to live with him so he can keep an eye on her and keep her safe. His desire to control her life comes from love. The Amish respect their elders and care for them without the aid of Medicare or nursing homes. How does Mary Katherine respond to his actions/attitude? How should she respond? How do we balance our desire to help people with respecting their desire to be independent?
4.Burke’s daughter died of leukemia. His wife committed suicide. He is having trouble believing that God is good or can work for his good in “all things.” Has there been an event in your life that shook your faith? Were you able to overcome your grief and anger to grow closer to God? How did you do it? If not, do Burke’s words of wisdom resonate with you?
