Melting Hearts

by Kathleen Fuller

  Carolyn insisted on washing the dishes so Mattie and Atlee could get to the bakery. When Peter offered to help her, she shooed him away. “I promise I’ll rest after,” she said. “None of you need to worry. I’ll be fine.”

  Atlee nodded, but there was still a bit of concern in his gaze. As he and Mattie left for the bakery, Peter headed for his tools and the supplies he’d bought the day before.

  When the brutal cold hit him, he realized Atlee had been right. It was downright frigid today. He also realized Atlee had forgotten to give him the gloves. Peter shrugged and headed for the back of the bakery, where the cinder blocks had been delivered early that morning and stacked. He couldn’t set them until he dug out the foundation. The digging would be a lot of work, especially without help, but it wouldn’t be impossible. At least they hadn’t had a long, protracted freeze yet.

  He set his tools to the side, grabbed a shovel, and went to work.

  “Peter.”

  He looked up to see Mattie a few steps away. He leaned on the shovel’s handle as she came closer and handed him some work gloves. “Danki,” he said, putting them on. “Tell Atlee I appreciate it. Wonder why he didn’t bring them himself?”

  “Because I wanted to.” She snuggled into her jacket, but she didn’t have any gloves and she was wearing only her white kapp on her head. “I . . . I thought about yer question last night.”

  “About friendship?”

  She nodded. “Ya.”

  Her voice was soft and uncertain, which made him want to reassure her. “I won’t be mad at you,” he said. “Whatever you choose.”

  “Somehow I knew you’d say that.” She smiled.

  She really had a nice smile, with a dimple on the right side. Right now her nose and cheeks were red, which muted the freckles there. He’d never minded her freckles anyway. They were unique.

  “I”—he had to lean forward to hear her—“I’d like to be friends, Peter.”

  Then she turned around and hurried inside the bakery. That made him grin. He’d seen Mattie a lot of things—angry, mouthy, and more than a little rude, especially recently. But he’d never seen her shy. It was sweet. Cute. And he was surprised at how her accepting his friendship made him happy. Very happy.

  The next week sped by. Mattie’s uncle was still proving to be so good with customers that she was completely free to work on orders and replenish the bakery’s empty shelves. Carolyn said she was thankful for such a prosperous Christmas season for her store.

  Mattie had all the baking down to a science, especially whenever Joanna and Mary were lending a hand. “Just don’t let Mary make any donuts,” Carolyn had warned. “We don’t want anyone breaking their teeth.”

  Carolyn was pleased and grateful for all the help, but sometimes she came to the bakery anyway. Her husband always sent her home.

  “I’m just going to watch,” Carolyn said.

  “And then in five minutes you’ll be working away.” Atlee shook his head and pointed toward their house. “Geh on home,” he said. “Please.”

  She huffed a little, but then she always nodded and left. Mattie knew once they were assured everything was all right at their next doctor’s appointment, her uncle would relax. He had a deep faith, and even though he worried, that faith kept him from being a complete basket case.

  When she wasn’t trying to sneak to the bakery, Carolyn stayed busy learning to crochet. She was a fast study, and she was already working on her first scarf after only three lessons. The edges were crooked, and the stitches were too tight in some areas and too loose in others, but it was good practice. She was hoping she’d be able to make some scarves and hats good enough for Noelle’s charity box before Christmas Eve. In the meantime, she didn’t seem to get frustrated. “I can see why you like this,” she said to Mattie one evening. “It’s relaxing.”

  At that moment Peter walked into the living room after helping her uncle with the outside chores. Mattie could see the weariness on his face, and his normally confident stride was a little slower since he’d started on the addition. But he hadn’t complained, and she was amazed at how hard and efficiently he worked.

  Rather than taking the extra time to go indoors for lunch, Peter liked to eat in the addition—despite the cold. Mattie didn’t mind taking him food and hot coffee out there, and she had every day for the last week. Now that they’d agreed to be friends, there was no awkwardness between them. She found herself looking forward to seeing him. And one day he suggested she eat with him sometime, if she wasn’t too busy and could stand the temperature.

  Peter yawned. “I’m heading to bed,” he said as he went to the staircase. “Gute nacht, Carolyn.” He paused and smiled at Mattie. “Gute nacht, Mattie.” Then he went upstairs.

  “Hmm,” Carolyn said, unraveling a stitch. “What’s going on between you two?”

  Mattie quickly finished a row of the green scarf she was working on. She already had ten scarves completed, and she hoped to have another ten done the day before Christmas Eve, when she planned to get them to Noelle so she could take them to Akron. She also wanted to have some hats finished by then. She didn’t pause in her crocheting as she looked at Carolyn. “There’s nix between me and Peter.”

  “I’ve noticed otherwise.” Carolyn was still pulling out stitches. “And yet I had gathered you two didn’t like each other very much.”

  “We don’t,” Mattie said, but then she realized her knee-jerk response wasn’t true. “I mean, we had a misunderstanding. We’re now . . . friends.” It seemed weird to say that out loud. It also felt right. She was still a little confused, but as each day passed, she realized she’d been wrong about Peter in many ways. Neither of them had brought up Lizzy, and Mattie didn’t want to. Whatever went on between Lizzy and Peter was their business, although now she was having a tough time believing he’d done the things Lizzy accused him of. But why would she lie about him? And to her best friend?

  “Being friends is nice.” Carolyn smiled. “I’m thinking there’s a little bit more there, though. Especially on his end.”

  “Oh, that’s not possible.”

  Carolyn put down her crochet. “Would you like it to be?”

  Mattie’s hands stilled. The truth was she had thought about Peter as more than a friend lately, but she’d put up a mental stop sign every time. Anything she felt for him other than friendship was obviously left over from before he’d dated Lizzy. And Peter was handsome, no doubt about it. But he wasn’t just good-looking. He was nice, caring, and smart.

  She also admired how devoted he was to his faith. She’d seen him read from his Bible, and last Sunday they’d discussed the sermon, something she’d never done with anyone. She’d seen him concerned over how Carolyn was feeling and available for anything her uncle needed him to do. Those qualities were what made her heart flutter whenever she saw him smile, which he did quite often when they were together.

  But Peter wasn’t romantically interested in her. She wasn’t pretty, like Lizzy, or popular, like Lizzy, or confident, like—

  “Mattie? You didn’t answer mei question.”

  “Nee,” she said, knowing she was lying. But she needed to be realistic. “I’m happy being friends.” She started to crochet again. “That’s enough for me.”

  They worked on in silence. The scent of pine boughs filled the room, and Carolyn had lit the cinnamon-scented candle on the coffee table before they started crocheting.

  “Speaking of friends,” Carolyn said, breaking into the peaceful silence, “I’m sure they miss you back home. You’re missing all the fun of Christmas preparations.”

  Mattie shrugged. “I don’t have too many friends.”

  “Really? I’m surprised, a sweet maedel like you. I figured you had lots of friends.”

  “Just one really close one. A lot of the maed I went to school with are already married.”

  Carolyn nodded. “It gets a little tough when yer friends are married off. I understand that well.” She stopped crocheting, and then s
he frowned. “Now I’ve done it.” She held up the scarf, which was starting to look more like a triangle. “Unlike you, I can’t talk and crochet at the same time.”

  After Mattie showed Carolyn where she’d made her mistake, her aunt wrapped the scarf around her ball of yarn and put her crochet hook through it. “I’ll fix it tomorrow,” she said, and then she yawned and stood. “Atlee must have gone to bed already. I think all this worrying and fretting over me and the boppli has gotten to him.” Her smile was warm. “Guess I’ll join him. Gute nacht, Mattie.”

  “Gute nacht.”

  Mattie kept crocheting, but her conversation with Carolyn made her think about Lizzy again. Why hadn’t she heard from her? Surely her friend could have at least called her after all this time.

  She set down her yarn and hook. Maybe something had happened to Lizzy, something serious—although Mattie would have thought her own mother would let her know. A little worried, she closed the woodstove doors. Then she grabbed her coat and a knit hat and slipped them on along with her shoes. She had a pocket flashlight, so she didn’t need to take a lamp.

  Once outside, she shoved her hands into her coat pockets and walked down the driveway toward the phone shanty. A few sparse snowflakes floated from the sky. She hoped they’d have a white Christmas, but she was glad she didn’t have to wade through inches of the stuff tonight.

  It wasn’t much past eight, so she knew Lizzy would still be up. Once inside the shanty, she shined the pocket flashlight on the phone keypad and punched in the Millers’ number. The phone rang several times, which was odd since Lizzy’s family kept their phone in the mudroom and Lizzy was always quick to answer it.

  Finally, she did. “Hello?”

  “Lizzy.” She let out a long breath. “It’s me. Are you all right?”

  “Of course I’m all right. Why are you calling at this hour?”

  Mattie flinched. Lizzy didn’t sound happy. That was never a good sign. “I didn’t think it was that late.”

  “I don’t have long to talk. What do you want?”

  “I . . . missed you.”

  “Not enough to tell me Peter is there. You didn’t even mention him in yer letter.”

  Mattie paused at the ice dripping from Lizzy’s tone. She shouldn’t be surprised that she knew Peter was helping her uncle. She always seemed to know what was going on in their community.

  Mattie twirled the phone cord tightly around her finger. “He arrived after I did. After I wrote the letter.”

  “And you couldn’t be bothered to write again?”

  Mattie felt anger rise inside her. “You couldn’t be bothered to write me back?” she snapped, surprising herself.

  Lizzy sniffed. “We’re not talking about me. I can’t believe you would betray me like this. You know what he did to me.”

  Mattie gripped the phone receiver. Betray her? How? Besides, she couldn’t reconcile the man who had become her friend with the man Lizzy had described. “He’s changed, Lizzy.”

  “Changed? What’s he been telling you? Whatever it is, it’s all lies. You can’t believe him over me. Not after we’ve been friends all these years!”

  But you didn’t write me or call me. Seems like a friend would. Mattie also noticed Lizzy didn’t say best friends. That’s how Mattie had always referred to Lizzy. Her throat grew tight. “I’m . . .” For the first time, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Lizzy she was sorry. Mattie was always the one apologizing, not Lizzy. Never Lizzy.

  “I can’t talk to you right now,” Lizzy huffed. “I’m too upset. You need to think about what you’ve done to me, Mattie. Think long and hard.” She hung up.

  Mattie froze. Her fingers were stiff with cold when she finally put the receiver in its cradle.

  Think long and hard.

  Mattie trudged up the driveway, tears stinging her eyes. Inside the house, still in her coat and hat, she sat down on the edge of the couch, pain and resentment filling her as she thought about times Lizzy had been mad at her over the years. She’d been mad quite a lot, actually, and usually when she didn’t get her way. When they were six she’d torn the head off Mattie’s one and only doll, the one her grandmother had made for her, because Mattie wouldn’t let her go first when they played checkers. When Mattie had gone crying to her mother, Mamm had simply said, “You should have let her geh first.” Lizzy always seemed to come first, even in her own home.

  Her chest ached as her past flew by. The time Lizzy taunted her when she was fourteen and had an outbreak of acne on her face, saying she was gross in front of all the boys. The time she had to walk home by herself because Lizzy let Andrew Kurtz drive her home in her buggy—without Mattie, who’d come with her. She even knew everyone else had already left.

  More recently, when she’d mentioned that she thought Peter was schee, and Lizzy had told her not to be stupid. She’d said, “Schee bu don’t date maed like you.” Lizzy and Peter had started dating soon after, and now she suspected Lizzy had pursued Peter, not the other way around. Why? To cruelly put Mattie in her place?

  Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she started to sob. What kind of friend did those things?

  Exhausted, Peter had put on a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved crew neck shirt, climbed into bed, and dozed off. But then he woke up, his stomach growling. He’d eaten a full supper, but he was working hard in cold temperatures, burning up calories. That last piece of the chocolate cake they’d had at supper sounded good.

  He grabbed a miniature flashlight and turned it on. The house was quiet as he crept down the hall. He was almost at the top of the stairs when he heard a noise coming from the living room. He tiptoed down the steps, stopping on the bottom one, and saw Mattie sitting on the couch, her head in her hands. Was she crying? “Mattie?” he said quietly.

  She looked up and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Ya?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Ya.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

  She didn’t sound fine, and she was wearing her coat and a hat. When had she gone outside? He descended the last step and went to her.

  Mattie turned from him and grabbed a tissue from the box on the table next to the couch. She blew into it, and then she said, “I told you. I’m fine.”

  “You’re crying. That’s not fine in mei book.”

  “Nee. I must be getting the sniffles.” She took a deep breath, and then she shuddered.

  He sat down next to her. “Do you have the chills? Is that why you’re wearing yer coat?”

  “Ya . . .” She looked down at her lap, and then she shook her head. “Nee. I’m not sick.”

  “What’s going on, Mattie?”

  She turned and looked at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed and full of tears, but she didn’t look sad. She looked angry. “Am I stupid, Peter?”

  The question surprised him, but he shook his head. “Absolutely not. Who told you that?”

  “I did.” She yanked off her hat, which he realized was one of Atlee’s. The bobby pins holding her kapp in place caught on the knitted fabric, and she yanked those out too. Then she took off her kapp and tossed it on the coffee table. “I can’t even take off a hat,” she muttered.

  Peter was confused and concerned. Her hair was bound in a thick, pretty, coiled braid. But her hair wasn’t foremost on his mind. “You’re not stupid,” he said, making sure she understood him. “We’ve been around each other for a while now, and I haven’t seen you do one stupid thing.”

  “But I feel like a dummkopf.”

  “Why?”

  He listened as she told him about her phone call with Lizzy. Just hearing that woman’s name got a rise out of him, but when he heard how Lizzy had treated her, he was furious. “Mattie,” he said, measuring his words. He knew how much she’d counted on Lizzy as a friend. “She shouldn’t have treated you that way.”

  “I know.”

  His brow lifted. That wasn’t the answer he’d expected. In the past she would defend Lizzy against anybod
y and anything.

  “I’m so angry,” she said, angling her body toward him. “I’ve never been this mad before.”

  Normally he wouldn’t want anyone to be upset. But seeing Mattie angry about how badly Lizzy had treated her gave him hope that she was finally seeing the light. “You have a right to be.”

  Her shoulders slumped, as though the anger had already slipped away. “Do I? Sometimes she hurts mei feelings, but she’s mei best friend.”

  “Why?” Peter asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why is she yer best friend? What has she done for you? How has she showed she cares about you? When has she been there when you needed her?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.” Now her head was hanging down. “Maybe I don’t deserve all that.”

  “Everyone deserves to be treated with respect.” Without thinking, he took her hand. “Especially you. You’ve always been there for Lizzy. She couldn’t have a more loyal friend than you. What I don’t understand is why you give her that loyalty.”

  Mattie glanced down at their hands. But instead of letting go, she held on more tightly. “Mei mamm and Lizzy’s mamm are best friends. I don’t know if you knew that.”

  “I see them together a lot,” he said. “Like you and Lizzy, actually.”

  “Our being friends made mei mamm so happy.” Mattie averted her gaze. “She wanted me to be more like Lizzy, and so I tried. ‘Why can’t you make straight As like Lizzy?’ she’d say. ‘Why can’t you be graceful like Lizzy?’ ‘You’re never going to get a date unless you’re more like Lizzy.’”

  “She actually said those things?” Peter couldn’t believe any mother would, but he was beginning to understand what Mattie had faced growing up.

  Nodding, Mattie let go of his hand. “I think she’s right. I should be more like Lizzy.” She paused. “At least I used to believe that. Lizzy is smart, and she’s schee, and she always knows the right things to say—”