by Sarah Price
At the question, Miriam looked up and watched her daughter-in-law, waiting for an answer. But Lovina merely smiled, a meek smile at that, and shook her head. “Not feeling too well, t’is all.”
The room remained silent, a darkness hovering over the gathering. It was not a comfortable silence, all eyes watching Lovina. Her face was pale and taunt, clearly stressed about something. And the women didn’t have to guess about what.
“It will happen if God wills it,” Rachel said kindly, laying a hand on Lovina’s arm. It seemed to be all that anyone could say to Lovina, Rachel thought. She wished she had some other words of wisdom but she knew of nothing else to say.
Nodding her head, Lovina kept her attention on the dishes. She didn’t reply. She didn’t have to for they all knew what she was thinking.If God wills it.
The door opened and Mary Ruth breezed into the kitchen. She started to shut the door behind her, but as if an afterthought, decided to leave it open. The breeze would help cool the kitchen. “My word,” she said as she collapsed on the bench next to her mother. She leaned over and peered at baby Jacob. He reached out a hand to touch her face. “Menno Yoder was on the porch when I dropped the girls off,” she said, touching Jacob’s hand and playing with his fingers. “He was actually pleasant.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Ja,” Mary Ruth affirmed, “If you can imagine such a thing!”
“Now, now,” Miriam scolded gently. “He always was a kindly man. Losing his wife in such a manner is bound to be hard on a soul. We need to pray for him, not judge him.”
Mary Ruth made a face. “Nee, we need to pray for him to tend his own kinner because I want to come home!”
“Mary Ruth!”
She turned to look at her oldest sister who was staring at her with a shocked expression. “It’s true! I’m tired of sleeping in a strange bed and not having decent meals.”
Leah gasped.
“Oh please, Leah,” Mary Ruth snapped. “We all know that you didn’t inherit Mamm’s cooking ability.”
“Or cleaning,” mumbled Lizzie.
“Girls!” Miriam snapped. She scowled at Mary Ruth. “And on a Sunday!”
Mary Ruth rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Rachel. “He was dressed for Sunday service,” she said, changing the subject away from Leah and back to Menno Yoder. “Said he wasn’t ready yet. But he paid some attention to the girls.”
“Gut, gut,” Rachel said, nodding her head. “It’s time for him to start healing.”
Lizzie nodded her head. “You’ve been doing a gut thing, Mary Ruth, tending to those children.” She moved to put some of the dried dishes back in the cabinet next to Lovina. “A right gut thing,” she added as she shut the cabinet door.
“They’re going to miss you when you return to Mamm’s,” Rachel added.
“And when, exactly, might that be?” Mary Ruth dared to ask.
Leah reared her head, her eyes wide and full of questions. “I thought you were supposed to be here to help me with baby Jacob!”
“Oh Leah,” Lizzie sighed. “The last thing you need is help. In fact, it would do you some good to not have help and get back on your feet. That child is as golden as an angel and about as much bother as one.”
“I don’t appreciate that,” Leah said, her tone low and sulky.
“It’s the right honest truth!”
Ignoring her bickering sisters, Mary Ruth looked up at the sound of footsteps on the front porch. She stood and hurried to the window, peering outside. Melvin and Katie stood on the porch, throwing a stick for the dog to fetch. “Didn’t realize Melvin was still here,” she said softly and hurried away from the commotion that lingered in the kitchen.
The screen door opened with a screech, obviously in desperate need of some oiling. Mary Ruth shut it behind herself and cleared her throat to announce her presence to the two children who were now squatting at the edge of the porch, poking at the dirt with a stick.
When Melvin looked up, Mary Ruth caught her breath. For the first time, she realized how much Melvin favored his father in his appearance. She hadn’t noticed it before, especially with Menno always scowling and yelling at her. But this afternoon, when he had tried to force some civility toward her, his appearance also seemed to change. Now that Melvin’s face had taken on a softer look with less sorrow in his eyes, the resemblance was undeniable.
“I already walked your sister’s home,” Mary Ruth said gently, her eyes softening as she smiled at Melvin.
“Katie asked me to go riding ponies on Thursday,” he gushed. “May I?”
“Ponies?” Mary Ruth asked, looking from one child to the other. She had heard about Eleanor Haile boarding those ponies at the Miller farm and seemed to recall something about Katie with one of those ponies from a discussion not so long ago, but truth be told, she had forgotten all about it. “Why, that sounds like a right fun thing to do, doesn’t it?” she said, pleased to see the eagerness in his expression. “But you have to ask your daed, Melvin. He would make the decision on that, ja?”
Something suddenly changed on Melvin’s face, like a cloud passing over his eyes. The eagerness disappeared and the spirit retreated back inside of him. Immediately, Mary Ruth realized her mistake. Melvin was just as fearful of Menno as she was herself; fearful of his emotions and outbursts; fearful of his mourning. Left to his own devices, Melvin would never ask his daed for permission.
“But,” Mary Ruth said slowly, dreading the promise she was about to make. “I reckon I could speak to your daed for you,” she offered carefully. The smile immediately returned to his face, the look of distress replaced by a wave of relief. If he wanted to say something, he didn’t have time because she looked toward the men standing near the barn. “Now, let’s see about getting you a ride back to your home, ja? Mayhaps Steve can take you.”
It was thirty minutes later when Steve was pulling out of the Yoder farm. He had happily volunteered to take young Melvin home and hurried to hitch up his daed’s buggy to the horse. The ride to the Yoder farm was quiet. Melvin didn’t seem inclined to say much. But Steve was thankful that Mary Ruth hadn’t volunteered to ride along. He had something else in mind before returning to Jonah and Leah’s.
Instead of turning the horse left onto the lane, he turned right and headed toward the Hostetler home. It was only two miles from the Yoder’s farm and Steve was fairly certain that Mimi had gone directly home with her parents. He hadn’t managed to speak to her at the worship service and didn’t think he’d be able to get back to the area later that evening. Make hay while the sun shines, he told himself. And it didn’t hurt that Lizzie had brought out some cinnamon minis, protected in a Tupperware container to drop off at the Yoder’s. Mayhaps, he thought, he’d just forget to drop them off at the Yoder’s. Use that as his excuse why he was late returning to Leah’s home.
When he pulled into the Hostetler farm, he hesitated. What would Mimi think, he wondered, that he had arrived unannounced?
“Well hullo there!” someone called from the shed.
Steve turned around and saw Mimi’s father. He greeted him with a friendly handshake and glanced over his shoulder. “Was looking for your dochder,” he said. “Just to have a word with her.”
Jonas Hostetler raised an eyebrow and hid a smile. “You don’t say, ja?” He motioned toward the house. “Reckon she’s in there, helping her mamm. You’re welcome to go up to the door and ask for her.”
Color rose to Steve’s face and he nodded his appreciation for the invitation. Then, with his hands pushed into his pockets, he hurried toward the kitchen door. She was standing there, waiting for him, when he climbed the three porch steps. Pushing the door open, she greeted him with a big smile.
“Steve Fisher ! What a surprise!”
He felt the color painting his cheeks crimson. Had she really been surprised? Perhaps he shouldn’t have come there after all. “Just wanted a word with you,” he said softly, too aware that there were other peop
le in the kitchen behind her. They were listening to every word, that was for sure and certain.
Mimi slipped out the door and stood before him, her hands clutched before her. “A word?”
He leaned over. “Wanted to see if you’d like to go for a ride one night this week,” he asked.
“In a car or a buggy?” she teased.
“Buggy, of course,” he shot back. She had made her position quite clear about courting in a car.
“You keep borrowing your daed’s buggy,” she pointed out lightly. “Mayhaps time to invest in one of your own.” The rebuke was gentle but the point well made. For a moment, he felt his cheeks redden, knowing she was right. When she noticed the crimson color flushing his face, she quickly added, “I’d be happy to go riding with you, Steve Fisher.” Lowering her voice, she smiled and said. “But you already knew that, ain’t so?”
“Wanted to talk to you after fellowship, but you sure left awful quick,” Steve said.
She glanced at the kitchen door behind her. Steve followed her gaze and noticed three older women seated at the table. The women were peering over each other, trying to see who was at the door. Mimi bit her lower lip and turned back to Steve. “My aendi and her friends are visiting,” she explained softly. “Had to get home before they arrived.”
For a moment, they were silent. With people watching, Steve felt uncomfortable. Besides, he knew that he had to return to Leah’s. His daed needed the buggy to return home and he still had to stop back at the Yoder’s to drop off the cinnamon minis.
“Is Tuesday night a good evening, then?” he asked, taking a step backward.
She nodded her head, her eyes sparkling at him. “That sounds right nice, Steve.”
He tried to hide his own pleasure at her reaction. There was something about Mimi Hostetler that made him feel as if he was six feet tall and full of God’s glory. His mind was in a whirl and his heart fluttering. He had never felt such joy as when she turned her gaze upon him and smiled.
“Ja vell,” he said, reluctantly. But he knew it was time to cut the visit short. “Best head back to Leah’s. But I’ll be back for you on Tuesday.”
He gave her a last wave as he pulled his daed’s buggy out of the driveway and headed back down the lane toward the Yoder’s farm. His heart pounded inside his chest and he watched in the mirror on the side of the buggy, seeing her stand on the porch, staring after him.
Tuesday was going to seem an awful long time in coming, he thought. But the smile on his face and in his heart told him that Mimi Hostetler was well worth the wait!
Chapter 6: Sylvia’s Letter
Dear Family,
Was sure sorry to have missed church service at Leah and Jonah’s on Sunday but it was right nice to receive the package of letters from everyone. Made me feel as if I was all caught up on everyone’s lives…almost as gut as being at the service. Thank you for including us.
Our Naomi is looking forward to the camping trip with Lizzie’s Katie. She’s been working so hard with the market that a little break for her is just what she needs. She can’t wait.
The twins are growing so fast. Can’t believe how time seems to fly with not just one but two little ones running under foot. I miss them terribly when I have to go to market but thank the good Lord that John’s mamm is able to stay with them.
Looking forward to seeing Rachel and Leah this upcoming week for making applesauce in preparation of the winter months ahead.
May God bless each of you.
Sylvia, John and family
When Sylvia arrived at Rachel’s home on Thursday morning, she was relieved to have a few hours without the twins. Her older children were tending them while she spent some time with her two older sisters. Of course, her husband John’s mamm would be there, to keep an eye too. It was always good to have an adult around, especially with two toddlers in the house. Lord only knew what type of mischief they might get into, she thought with a frown on her face but a smile in her heart.
“Hullo?” she called out as she opened the door to Rachel’s kitchen. They had agreed to make the applesauce at Rachel’s house since Leah’s tended to be a bit in disarray. Besides, having just hosted the church service on the previous Sunday, Leah didn’t want to have another major cleanup to go through. They would make the applesauce in the morning and enjoy a lovely sisterly dinner at noon.
Sylvia set her two boxes of empty glass jars on the counter of the laundry room. Tucked inside that box was a large Tupperware container filled with her favorite lima bean and corn salad that everyone always begged her to bring. Her hand lingered on the edge of the boxes as she looked around. The house was quiet. No children running around. No voices. No laughter. A bit unusual, she reckoned. She frowned and called out again. “Rachel, you home?”
Someone coughed upstairs and she thought she heard footsteps. Sylvia walked through the doorway into the kitchen and stood at the bottom of the staircase and called out one last time. “Rachel? You upstairs?”
“Just a minute,” her sister finally answered. Her voice was muffled, clearly from behind a closed door. A little unusual, Sylvia thought.
Frowning, Sylvia turned back toward the kitchen. No reason that she could not get a head start peeling some apples. She glanced around until her eyes fell upon several large boxes full of apples behind the kitchen door. Without hesitation, she hurried in that direction, bent over to pick up a box, and carried it to the sink.
Rachel’s house was so orderly, just like Mamm’s, so it was easy for Sylvia to find a good knife to start the peeling and coring of the apples. She was already on her third apple when she heard her sister walking down the wood steps. Sylvia glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Rachel. “Guder Mariye, sister!”
But Rachel didn’t smile back. There was no joy in her expression or greeting. Indeed, her face appeared drawn and pale; there were dark circles under her eyes. Clearly something was wrong. Very wrong!
“Rachel?” Sylvia asked, the smile fading from her own lips as she realized that, whatever was wrong was a deep wrong. She set the half-peeled apple on the counter next to the knife and hurried over to her sister. “What is it? Are you feeling poorly?”
“Nee,” Rachel whispered. She let her younger sister lead her toward the table and sat on a chair.
“What is it, then? Are you expecting?”
Shaking her head, Rachel frowned at the question. If only that was the issue, she thought wryly. “Nee, nee,” she said sharply, waving her hand at her sister. “You ask too many questions, Sylvia.”
Silence befell them. Sylvia didn’t know what to say or do. She was afraid to speak, recognizing that her older sister was obviously not in the mindset to share what was wrong. Yet, she felt that it would be construed as heartless to just turn back to peeling the apples. She decided to continue asking.
“Rachel,” she offered gently, reaching out to touch her older sister’s arm. “Talk to me.”
The soft tone of Sylvia’s voice caused Rachel to look up. She stared at Sylvia’s face for a long, quiet moment. Sweet Sylvia. She had always been the caring and tender one in the family. Unlike Lizzie and herself who were so strong headed and quick to take charge, Sylvia was the quiet one that always cared for the sick kittens or injured calves. How will Sylvia try to heal this situation, Rachel thought wryly. Immediately, she felt guilty for having thought something so less than kind about Sylvia.
Rachel cleared her throat. “It’s Elijah,” she confessed, her voice all but a whisper. “The doctor wants him to see a specialist for his cough.”
This time, it was Sylvia who frowned. She couldn’t understand why this would be such a serious matter to cause her sister to look as if the bottom of her world had just fallen away. “His…cough?”
Rachel nodded. “He’s had that cough for several weeks, maybe even longer, now. We thought it was summer flu but it hasn’t gone away. On Monday, he went to a doctor in town. They ran some tests.” She paused, licking her lips, which felt dry and cracked
. “I just got the message from the answering machine. The doctor gave us the name of an oncologist.”
Sylvia gasped. “An oncologist? Isn’t that a…?” But she stopped short in the middle of her sentence, unable to say the word.
“Ja, a cancer doctor,” Rachel said the word for her. “He wants Elijah to see a cancer doctor!”
“That can’t be! Elijah has always been so healthy!”
Rachel took a deep breath. “We’ll be going next Wednesday. That was the earliest appointment we could get and I think our regular doctor had to ask for some special favors to get us in so soon.”
Sylvia was stunned, speechless at what Rachel had just told her. Cancer! “Well,” she started slowly. “They might just be sending him there as a precaution; to run some more tests and to rule it out, you know?”
To Sylvia’s surprise, Rachel reached out and grabbed her younger sister’s hand. That was quite unusual for her to reach out in that way. Her eyes seemed wild as she searched Sylvia’s face. “You don’t understand,” she whispered. “I have a real bad feeling about this, Sylvia.”
“Stop that,” Sylvia replied, more because she was scared herself rather than offended by her sister’s statement. “Don’t say such things.” She lowered her voice and held Rachel’s hand, clutching it tightly in hers, then continued: “We must pray to God for help in dealing with this situation, not second guess His will, Rachel. That is the best way. Our way”
For a long moment, the two sisters, Rachel and Sylvia, sat alone in the kitchen, heads bent together as they held each other’s hands and prayed: prayed that the doctors were wrong, prayed that Elijah would get better, and prayed that God would give them the strength to deal with the alternative.
Leah had been in rare form that morning. Rachel’s children had crossed the road shortly after breakfast so that the older boys could watch Leah’s children. Leah had fussed and carried on about leaving baby Jacob in the care of young boys. But Rachel had been quite clear about it: Leah must come alone for the applesauce canning. It was a time for the sisters to visit while working.
