The Reconciliation

by Susan Lantz Simpson

  “I’m a big bu. I can take care of myself. I’m sure people know we went for a walk together again today. That doesn’t bother me in the least. I wouldn’t be much of a freind if I disappeared when you needed support or help, ain’t so?”

  “I appreciate that, Atlee. I made a big mistake running off like I did. I made a big mistake believing Vinny. But I do love my boppli and want to be a gut mudder.”

  “That’s what is important, Becky. And I will help you however I can.”

  “Danki. It’s okay to tell your family what I’ve told you. I’d rather people know the truth than have them concoct all kinds of stories about me. I’ve told my mamm it’s okay to tell, too, so I’m sure the grapevine will start quivering. Your support means the world to me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Son, do you think it was wise to be traipsing off alone with Becky Zook?” Saloma asked Sunday evening as she rocked in the old oak rocking chair near the woodstove. Her husband, Rufus, looked up from his perusal of the Budget, and Malinda abandoned her crossword puzzle to glance first at her mamm and then at her bruder. The three younger buwe had already headed upstairs for the evening.

  Atlee stopped in his tracks. All thoughts of slipping into the kitchen for a handful of cookies fled from his mind. “We weren’t exactly alone. I’m sure we were in sight of half the community. Anyone could have called to us or joined us.” He changed his direction and reentered the living room to face his family, who all stared at him with mouths agape.

  “Are you and Becky . . . ?” Mamm ventured.

  “We are freinden.”

  “You steered clear of Becky all the time she batted her eyelashes at first one fellow, then another. Why the sudden interest?” Malinda apparently felt she needed to add her two cents’ worth.

  “I haven’t taken a ‘sudden interest’ in Becky, as you say. She seemed so lonely and in need of a freind.”

  “I’m sure some of the girls would step up and fill that void. I worry about your getting involved with her.” A wrinkle furrowed Saloma’s brow.

  “What’s wrong with Becky? You’ve always been nice to her, Mamm.”

  “Of course I would be nice to her. I’m just not sure . . . Have you heard anything about her time away?”

  “Are you referring to the story Fannie Glick has been passing along?”

  “Do you know about that?”

  “Who doesn’t? When Fannie knows something, everyone knows something.”

  Malinda snickered and clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Let’s not be unkind,” Saloma began.

  “I’m not trying to be unkind. I’m being truthful. I know Becky is, uh, in the family way.” There. Atlee had confirmed the rumors, but now he had to make them understand.

  Malinda and Saloma gasped simultaneously. Rufus’ paper rustled to the floor in a heap.

  “It’s true, then,” Malinda whispered. She twirled one of her kapp strings around an index finger.

  “Maybe your mamm is right, Son, about treading lightly as far as that girl is concerned.”

  “Hold on a minute. I’m not planning on marrying her. I told you we’re freinden. But you need to know the facts before you judge her.”

  “We’re not judging her, Son.” Rufus bent to retrieve his newspaper.

  “Do you know the facts?” Malinda asked.

  “Actually, I do.”

  “Can you share that information?” Malinda scooted to the edge of her seat as if eager to hear a story.

  “Jah, I can. Becky told me the whole story today. I think she needed to gauge the reaction of a freind before she told everyone else. She said it was okay to tell you all because she wants people to know the truth rather than invent their own unflattering stories.”

  “And you truly believe her, or are you a little biased?”

  “Malinda! I’m surprised at you. You have always been so sympathetic and forgiving. Are you still bitter because Becky came between you and Isaac?”

  Malinda hung her head, but not before Atlee caught her sheepish expression. “Of course I’m not bitter. As it turned out, Becky did me a favor. Isaac was not the right fellow for me.” Malinda raised her eyes to meet Atlee’s. Her cheeks glowed a fiery red. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think you need to worry. And to answer your earlier question, I truly believe Becky’s story.” In his peripheral vision, Atlee spied his parents staring openmouthed.

  “Okay, Atlee. Please tell me the story. I want to be fair to Becky,” Malinda said.

  Atlee slowly recited Becky’s story, taking care to keep his facts straight. “She even has an authentic-looking marriage certificate she showed to Bishop Menno. He told her he thought it looked real, too.” Atlee sucked in a gulp of air at the conclusion of his recitation. Three pairs of eyes stared at him from stunned faces.

  “The poor girl must have been devastated to find out the marriage was a lie.” Saloma was the first to recover her speech. “She was too trusting, but with nee worldly experience, you can’t blame her for that.”

  “And then to find out about the boppli on top of the lies, and to fear for her safety, too. Ach, poor Becky.” Malinda swiped at a tear trickling down her cheek.

  “So do you believe her story?” Atlee looked from Rufus to Saloma to Malinda. His parents nodded.

  “I do,” Malinda said. “Becky may have been a flirt and a bit of a show-off, but I’ve never known her to lie. Besides, who could make up such horrible things?”

  “She really is a different girl now. You’d see that if you gave her a chance.”

  “There will be some who will doubt her, you know.” Rufus folded his newspaper.

  “Jah, and I think Becky is prepared for that. But the bishop won’t tolerate anyone shunning her or criticizing her, ain’t so, Daed?”

  “We are called upon to show forgiveness, mercy, and love. Any of our young folks could have run off and fallen prey to unsavory people.”

  “We need to help Becky and her parents get through the difficult times,” Saloma added. “Poor Sylvia has lost so much weight worrying about Becky these last months that I feared one of those arctic blasts of air would carry her away.”

  “Maybe I’ll go visit Becky tomorrow,” Malinda murmured. “I really am sorry I doubted her. That wasn’t fair of me.”

  “I’m sure she would be glad to see you,” Atlee said. “As you know, she’s staying with Lena Troyer right now and helping out with Lena’s kinner.”

  “That’s right. Maybe I’ll bake a little treat to take to them, too.”

  * * *

  By mid-morning Rebecca had three loads of laundry hanging on the line. A stiff breeze would surely dry the clothes pretty quickly—or freeze them into position on the clothesline. With Lena’s help, Rebecca had fed and dressed the girls, cleaned up the kitchen, and swept the floors. Lena seemed to be more tired and out of breath lately.

  “Do you think you need to pay a visit to Laurie?” Rebecca briskly rubbed her half-frozen hands together to restore the circulation after hanging wet clothes in the wind.

  “I have an appointment later in the week. I’ll wait until then.” Lena dropped onto one of the kitchen chairs and patted her swollen belly. “This one has sure been making me feel tired and about as big as a barn.”

  “You didn’t feel like this either of the other times?”

  “Nee. I didn’t gain a lot of weight with either of them and was able to keep up with my work just fine. Of course, Joseph was here to do all the hard work. He wouldn’t let me overexert myself.” A small, sad smile curved the corners of her mouth. Her eyes took on a faraway expression as she apparently gave in to the memories.

  “I’m sure this time has been harder.” Rebecca squeezed Lena’s hand. “You rest as much as you can. I’m perfectly capable of handling the work.” She didn’t want to worry Lena further by asking if there could be some problem, but she intended to keep a watchful eye on her.

&nb
sp; “You don’t need to overexert yourself, either. You’ve got your own boppli to think about.”

  “It’s early yet for me. Much of my sickness is gone—not all, I’m sorry to say, but I am feeling more energetic now. Laurie said everything was fine.” Rebecca gave her own midsection a little pat. She didn’t add that helping Lena and the girls had given her such an emotional lift that she felt better all over.

  Lena sighed. “A pie seemed too industrious, so I was going to bake some cookies. Now even that seems like a chore. I’ll rest a minute before dragging out the flour and pans.”

  “I can make cookies. What kind do you want?” Rebecca crossed the kitchen and opened the cupboard door. She shifted items around to survey the contents of the cabinet. “We can make oatmeal, chocolate chip, or peanut butter cookies.”

  “You should rest, too. We don’t have to have cookies or pie.”

  “I’m fine. It feels gut to stay busy.”

  “You’ve certainly been that since you came here. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help, but I worry about you, too.”

  “You worry too much, Lena. I am perfectly fine, unless I smell bacon frying or something equally as pungent. Now, what kind of cookies would you like?”

  “Lena! It’s me, Malinda!”

  Rebecca and Lena both turned their heads to see Malinda Stauffer pushing her way through the back door. Her hands held several plastic containers, and a wicker basket swung from one arm.

  “Here, let me help you.” Rebecca rushed to free Malinda of some of her burdens.

  “What is all of that?” Lena began to push herself up from her chair.

  “You sit,” Rebecca ordered. “I can get this.”

  “I did some baking this morning and wanted to share with you.”

  “Some? It looks like you must have been baking all night and used up all your mamm’s flour.” Lena eased back onto the chair.

  “I made three kinds of cookies, an apple pie, and some fudge brownies. I also brought a loaf of Mamm’s honey wheat bread and a jar of strawberry jam.”

  “Malinda, you didn’t have to do all of that,” Lena protested.

  “I feel bad, Lena. I should have helped you out more all this time.”

  “Many of the women have taken turns dropping by to check on me and the girls. And now Becky is staying with me for awhile. Besides, Malinda dear, you’ve had your own health issues to deal with.”

  “I haven’t had a flare-up of my Crohn’s disease in a while now, thank the gut Lord.”

  “But you had a few nasty flare-ups not so very long ago. You need to keep up your strength.”

  “I feel fine now.” Malinda set her basket on the kitchen table.

  “I guess I won’t need to make cookies today after all, Lena.” Rebecca smiled. “Malinda has brought enough to satisfy everybody’s sweet tooth for quite a while.”

  “Becky, would you mind transferring those goodies into my containers and cookie jars so Malinda can have hers to take back home?”

  “There’s no rush, Lena. We have plenty of containers and jars at home.”

  “You also have a lot of people in your house. I’m sure you need every spare bowl and basket. Did you leave some treats at home for all your hungry bruders?”

  Malinda laughed. “Of course. Atlee loves cookies. He made sure I baked plenty.”

  A little chill rippled up Rebecca’s spine again at the mention of Atlee’s name. She could imagine him sneaking cookies off the pan as soon as it was pulled from the oven. She would bake him cookies every day just to see him do that. Now, where did that thought kumm from? Why would Atlee be watching her bake cookies? Silly girl!

  “Becky?”

  “Huh?”

  “You wandered away for a minute. I asked if you’d like a cookie.” Malinda held the container full of spicy-smelling gingersnaps out to her.

  “Maybe later. Danki, Malinda.”

  “It’s gut of you to stay here and help Lena,” Malinda whispered as she snapped the lid on a plastic bowl.

  “I’m glad I could help out. It’s been fun, actually.”

  “You do look a little tired, though, Becky. You don’t want to get run-down, either.” Malinda kept her voice low so only Becky could hear her.

  “Atlee told you?” Rebecca quickly dropped her eyes to the floor she’d recently cleaned. She couldn’t bear to see the condemnation on Malinda’s face. Although she and Malinda had never been close, she didn’t want Atlee’s schweschder to think ill of her.

  “Jah. H-he said it was all right for him to tell.”

  “That’s true. I told him he could tell people. It’s not like it’s something I can hide forever, and I’d rather everyone know the truth.” Rebecca dared to raise her eyes to meet Malinda’s dark brown ones. To her amazement, she saw no condemnation. Was it compassion she saw on Malinda’s face?

  “I think you are very brave, Becky.” Malinda reached out to squeeze Rebecca’s hand. “You’ve been through some terrible things, but you returned home to face everyone and to have your boppli. I believe you, Becky. My parents believe you. I’m sure everyone else will, too.”

  “That’s what I keep telling her,” Lena chimed in.

  “I’d like to help you and Lena,” Malinda continued. “Did you two hang all that laundry on the line in this bitter wind?”

  “Nee,” Lena said. “Becky did it all.”

  “It was not a problem. Most women do all their own housework. Lena would have done it any other day, but her time is getting too close, and she’s been having what she calls ‘twinges.’”

  “You see, Malinda. This stubborn girl won’t let me do much these days. She insists that I rest.” Lena clucked her tongue.

  “Becky is right, Lena. Do you think you need to see the midwife? I could take you, or stay with the girls if you want Becky to take you.”

  “I don’t think I need to do that right now. I’ve been through this twice before, so I hope I’ll know when it’s time to see Laurie.” Lena gave a little laugh and poked at a loose strand of dark hair.

  All conversation ceased when two little girls shuffled into the kitchen. They responded to Malinda’s greeting while eyeing the containers of treats.

  “You may each have a cookie if your mamm says it’s okay,” Malinda told them.

  “Just one,” Lena said.

  Mary and Eliza each took a fat oatmeal raisin cookie and ran to stand beside their mamm. Awkwardly, Lena pulled a girl on each side of what was left of her lap and wrapped her thin arms around them. The girls wiggled to get their balance.

  Rebecca laughed at the oddly positioned threesome. “Soon, girls, your mamm will have her lap back.”

  While Lena was preoccupied with the girls, Malinda nudged Rebecca. “Becky, I know we weren’t really freinden before, but do you think we could be now?”

  If she’d been eating a cookie, Rebecca would have choked for sure. She’d figured the purpose of Malinda’s visit today had been to help Lena. She certainly didn’t expect such an offer from Malinda Stauffer. “I’d like that, Malinda.” Truly, she would.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rebecca shivered as she peeked out the frosted kitchen window a few mornings later. She had added wood to the stove, but it hadn’t yet generated a lot of heat. A magenta stripe in the otherwise dark gray sky provided the only hint that sunrise was on the way. She turned away from the window and tiptoed to the cupboard. Something about a hushed predawn morning always made her want to creep about silently. She’d heard Lena up during the night, so she figured—or at least hoped—Lena was sleeping now. The girls would sleep like little logs until their tummies woke them. There really was no reason for Rebecca to tiptoe, but still she did.

  She pulled out the canister of oats and, without bothering to measure, poured some into the pot of water that had just begun to boil on the stove. After all these days of cooking breakfast for the four of them, she could simply eyeball the quantity of oats needed. She stirred the oats around with a long-hand
led wooden spoon and covered the pot with its metal lid. She had just pulled open the door of the gas-powered refrigerator to remove a carton of eggs when a thumping sound outside caused her heart to thump as well. She left the eggs where they sat on the refrigerator shelf and quickly slid the simmering oatmeal off the heat. What could have made that thumping noise?

  Rebecca grabbed a black shawl to throw around her shoulders and eased open the back door. She stared into the semidarkness, willing her eyes to adjust to the dim light. At the next thump, she jumped and turned in the opposite direction. She could just make out a man stacking wood in a rack that was closer to the house than usual. The regular rack, half-empty of split wood, stood at its same spot close to the shed, so this was a different rack the man was filling. Usually the men who brought Lena wood came later in the day or on Saturdays.

  Rebecca pulled the shawl tighter against the chill and headed in the direction of the man. His horse, hitched to a wagon loaded with split hardwood, whinnied softly. “Gut mariye,” she called.

  “Ach, Becky. Gut mariye.”

  “Atlee?” Her racing heart told her the man was Atlee even though her eyes had not made that distinction.

  “Jah. I wanted to bring wood before I went to work.”

  “Is that a different rack?”

  “It sure is. The other one seemed so far away if you or Lena needed wood quickly. I made this one to put closer to the house.”

  “You made it? Danki. I’m sure Lena will appreciate the convenience. I know I will.”

  Atlee quickly stacked the wood in a crisscross pattern. “Anything that won’t fit here I’ll stack in the other holder.”

  “Danki. Would you like breakfast or kaffi?”

  “I already ate. I wanted to make sure you all were warm. Winter doesn’t show any signs of leaving soon. Is there anything I can do for you when I’m done with the wood?”

  “I think we’re all right.”

  “Is everything okay with Lena and the girls?”

  “So far so gut.”

  “How about you?”