An Amish Year Read online

Page 21


  Eli shrugged. “One was gut. The other . . . not so gut.”

  “So, who was the winner? Elizabeth or Ruth?”

  “Ach, it’s not really about being a winner because neither one of them is a loser.”

  “You picked Ruth, didn’t you?” Grace slouched into her chair.

  “It’s not about picking, but ya, I think Ruth and I are better suited to each other. And Elizabeth isn’t really ready to date. She wants to be ready, to get on with her life, but she is still grieving.”

  “If you’re going to insist on dating, it’s too bad you can’t date Miriam.” Grace stretched her neck and looked around the corner, apparently to see if Miriam was coming. “I like her,” she added.

  “You’ll like Ruth too.” Eli set his fork on the plate still half filled with the cheesy noodles from a box. “And besides, I did ask Miriam if she would like to go out, and she said no.” He kept his eyes on Gracie’s, curious how she’d react. She slouched even deeper into her chair.

  “Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t date anyone because she says she is never getting married.”

  “Maybe it’s because she has a dozen cats, a messy haus, and eats noodles from a box.” Eli realized he hadn’t sneezed once since he got here.

  “She only has one cat, and her name is Kiki.” Gracie narrowed her eyebrows at Eli. “Why aren’t you sneezing?”

  Eli shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Gracie sat up tall in her chair and smiled. “Maybe you’re not allergic anymore.” She pressed her palms together. “Maybe we can get a cat?”

  “We’ll see. I imagine if I was around a cat all the time, I would take to sneezing again.” Eli wanted to follow up on Gracie’s earlier comment. “Why is Miriam never getting married?”

  “I’m not sure.” Gracie paused, then opened her mouth like she had more to say, but quickly closed it when Miriam came back into the room holding a photograph.

  “This is our secret,” Miriam said as she handed the picture to Gracie. “It took me awhile to find it. The Englisch woman took pictures of the quilt, and she gave me one. I’ve never shown it to anyone. We have a very gut and lenient bishop, but the one thing he frowns on is photographs of any kind. The younger folks are using their mobile phones to take pictures, and the bishop really dislikes that.”

  Eli had heard of phones taking pictures, even though his and Gracie’s phones flipped open and didn’t do such things. Eli was all for embracing certain technology that was necessary, and cell phones had become a necessity. He could recall several emergencies back home when folks could have died if they hadn’t had a phone with them. Even though it didn’t help Leah. But phones that took pictures were just too much luxury for Eli.

  “I wish my phone took photographs,” Gracie said as she glanced at Eli.

  “Nee.” Miriam spoke up before Eli had a chance to tell his daughter no. “It’s not gut. We’re all forced to move forward, to be more like the Englisch in many ways. But I think we need to remember the second commandment: ‘Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.’ ” She frowned. “I probably should not have even kept this photo, but . . .”

  “I’m glad you showed me the picture. It’s odd, but pretty.” Gracie giggled, which was music to Eli’s ears. “What a strange Englisch woman.”

  “Her shoes were like her kinner,” Miriam said softly as she eased the picture from Gracie’s hand. “She loved them all. She didn’t have a husband or any kinner.”

  Eli kept his eyes on Miriam’s. Such sadness in her voice, like regret. Possibly at her own situation? He waited until they’d left before he asked Gracie about it again.

  “Um . . . so Miriam is never getting married—why?”

  “I told you. I don’t know.” Gracie shrugged, then turned to him and grinned. “Daed, I can’t believe you asked her out too.”

  Eli maneuvered the buggy around a pothole in the road filled with water, thankful it had stopped raining. “Ya, well, I did.” They were both quiet for a while, then Eli said, “Next Saturday, I’m going to Ruth’s again to meet her kinner, and I would like it if you and Ben would come too.”

  Gracie didn’t respond.

  “Will you do that for me?” Eli glanced at his daughter, and in the darkness, he saw her nod.

  They were quiet again, until Gracie cleared her throat. “Daed?”

  “Ya?”

  “Who did you ask out first? Elizabeth, Ruth, or Miriam?”

  Eli turned into their driveway. “I didn’t ask Elizabeth or Ruth out. They both asked me to their homes for dinner and supper.” He paused, thinking. “The only one I asked out was Miriam.”

  “Why?”

  Eli slowed the horse to a stop in front of their barn. It had been a spontaneous gesture asking Miriam to dinner, but he knew what prompted him to do so.

  “She’s pretty,” Gracie said before Eli answered.

  “Ya, she is. But she’s different, and that interests me.” He met Gracie in front of the buggy and they walked toward the house.

  “I really like her,” Gracie said as the glow from the propane light lit Gracie’s features. Eli smiled, knowing Miriam had won Gracie over. Not an easy thing to do.

  Monday morning, Grace shivered as she pinned a towel on the line, not realizing until today that she’d left her sweater at Miriam’s. Maybe Miriam had found it and taken it to worship service, but Grace had no way to know since her family hadn’t attended the service yesterday. Daed was sick with a stomach bug, and it was raining, so he didn’t want Grace and Ben going alone. Her father had tried to blame his stomach troubles on the boxed noodles and cheese, but finally admitted that it could have been any dozen of things he’d eaten on Saturday. Ben woke up this morning complaining of an upset stomach, so Daed let him stay home from school, but Grace wasn’t sure that Ben didn’t just want the day off.

  Grace was picturing her mother next to her, showing her the best way to hang clothes on the line while they sang songs. I miss you, Mamm.

  She looked over her shoulder when she heard footsteps. “You could help me, you know.”

  Ben sidled up beside her. “That’s girls’ work. But I’ll do it if you’ll go clean the barn.”

  Grace shook her head, clipping another towel to the line. “Nee. I don’t think so.”

  Ben pulled a wet towel from the basket anyway and pulled two clothespins from the bag. Grace smiled. “You seem to be feeling better.”

  “Um . . . ya. When’s Daed going to be back?” Ben dropped one of the clothespins, leaned down to pick it up, then the other pin came loose and the towel landed in the grass. “See, girls’ work.” He grimaced but set to hanging the towel again.

  “He’s opening an account at the bank and said he had some other business to take care of in town. He shouldn’t be much longer.” Grace’s teeth chattered as she hurried to finish. “Did he tell you about wanting us to meet his new friend next Saturday, and her family?”

  “Ya. I hope whoever he picks to replace Mamm is nice.”

  “No one can replace Mamm. And I don’t want anyone living with us.”

  Ben was quiet. “Maybe . . . maybe . . .” He shrugged. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a replacement mudder.”

  Grace dropped the towel she was holding into the basket and put her hands on her hips. Ben had always said he didn’t want their father to remarry. “What are you saying? And no one can replace Mamm.”

  “I’m just saying . . .” Ben threw his hands up. “You have a lot to do. Cleaning,
sewing, laundry, and other things. Don’t you want some help?”

  “Nee. I don’t need help. I thought we both agreed that we like things the way they are.”

  Ben stared at Grace until his eyes filled with water. “You like things the way they are.” Then he ran to the barn. Grace called out to him and started toward the barn, wondering how long her brother had felt like this. She reminded herself that Ben was only eleven. Grace had done her best to nurture him when he seemed to need it, but she could also recall trying to bandage his knee before they’d moved here, and how he kept telling her she was doing it wrong. He’d also mentioned how their mother used to read to him. And now that Grace thought about it, she wondered how much her own opinions had rubbed off on Ben. Did he need a mother figure in his life?

  She’d slowed her pace and was trying to organize her thoughts before she went into the barn. A buggy turned in, so she waited. Maybe it would be best to let her father handle this, father to son. But as the buggy got closer and the driver came into view, she realized it wasn’t her father returning from town. She draped an arm across her stomach, took a deep breath, and walked across the yard toward the approaching buggy.

  Chapter Eight

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” GRACE ASKED WAYNE AS he stepped out of the buggy.

  “You weren’t at worship service yesterday, and it wondered me if you were okay.”

  “We’re fine.” Gracie glanced toward the barn, then looked back at Wayne. “I’ve got to finish getting the clothes on the line.” She nodded over her shoulder. “Danki for checking on us.”

  Wayne stared at her. “I can tell you’re mad at me.”

  Shivering, Grace looked down at the moist, dewy grass, then back at him. “You left me at the Lantzes’. Just because I didn’t want to . . .” She swallowed back the lump in her throat.

  “Your teeth are chattering.” Wayne took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. “Please don’t be mad. It’s just . . . you scare me.”

  Grace’s jaw dropped. “Scare you? What are you talking about?”

  Wayne sighed, shifted his weight, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’ve never liked anyone as much as you, so when you don’t want to be closer to me, it makes me feel like you don’t like me as much as I like you.”

  Grace locked eyes with him. “I do like you, Wayne. I’m just . . . not ready for . . .” She could feel her cheeks flushing, and she forced herself to recall how she’d felt Saturday. “If you like me so much, I don’t understand why you’d leave me to go be with Englisch girls.”

  “I had to go,” he said, sighing again. “My feelings for you are so strong, and when I’m around you, I just want to show you.”

  Grace glanced at the barn again, then met Wayne’s gaze, wanting to believe him. “I like you, too, Wayne . . . but . . .”

  “Why do you keep looking at the barn?” Wayne looked over Grace’s shoulder.

  “Mei bruder is in there. I’m a little worried about him.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Grace scratched her forehead as she wondered how much to tell Wayne. “It’s just . . . well, it’s hard for me to think about our father possibly marrying someone. And I always thought Ben felt the same way. But we just had a conversation that makes me think otherwise, like he might actually want and still need a mother. But no one can replace our mamm.”

  Wayne touched Grace lightly on the arm, then pulled the coat snug over her shoulders. “Poor guy. At his age, he probably does need a mamm, but I bet he feels guilty for even thinking that way.” He paused, looking toward the barn again. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “Come on. Let’s go together.” Wayne put an arm around her, and Grace got in step beside him. He opened the barn door for Grace to go first. Ben had hoisted himself up on Daed’s workbench and was kicking his legs back and forth.

  “This is my friend Wayne,” Grace said to Ben as they walked toward him. “I think you met him at worship service.”

  Ben nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “Wie bischt, buddy.” Wayne sat on the stool near the workbench. “Whatcha doin’?”

  Ben shrugged as he kept his eyes on the floor. “Nothing.”

  “Grace, I’m a little thirsty. Could you maybe get me a glass of water or tea?” Wayne winked at Grace. She glanced at Ben, then back at Wayne, who gave a nod.

  “Um, sure. Ya. Ben, do you want something to drink?”

  Her brother still didn’t look up as he shook his head. Grace hesitantly left, got a glass of tea for her and Wayne, and hurried back to the barn, but when she heard voices, she stopped outside and listened.

  “I know how you feel,” Wayne said. “When mei mamm died, it was real weird for a long time.”

  Grace froze. She’d seen Wayne with his parents, and she’d just assumed that the woman he called Mamm was his mother. She leaned her ear closer.

  “And when mei daed married someone else, I was confused. I wanted Daed to be happy, and he married a real nice woman, but I felt a little bad, like mei mamm was being replaced and forgotten about. But I wanted a mom, someone to look after me.”

  “Grace doesn’t want Daed to marry anyone else,” Ben said softly. “But I miss things. You know, those things a mother does. But it ain’t like I want to replace Mamm.”

  “I know what you’re saying. And I think that your mamm would want your daed to be happy. She’d want you and Grace to be happy too.”

  “I know all that,” Ben said a little louder. “It’s Grace that doesn’t want anyone living with us. And she gets mad about Daed dating anyone.”

  Grace’s eyes filled with tears. Why hadn’t she given more consideration to Ben’s needs? And her father’s.

  “Do you want me to talk to her?” Wayne’s voice was filled with tenderness, and this was a beautiful side to him that she didn’t know about. She sniffled, then leaned her face to Wayne’s jacket still around her shoulders and blotted her eyes on it.

  “Here’s tea,” she said as she walked into the barn. “Everything okay?”

  Wayne stood up and accepted the glass. Grace set hers on the bench near Ben. Her teeth were still chattering, and a cold drink didn’t sound all that good. But Wayne chugged his down, then put his glass on the workbench. “Everything is gut,” he said to Grace, winking again.

  “I gotta clean the barn.” Ben jumped down from the workbench, the hint of a smile on his face.

  “Someone’s coming.” Grace nodded toward the driveway. “Probably Daed.”

  Wayne walked out of the barn. Grace lagged behind, but when Ben started putting away tools that had been left out, Grace followed Wayne.

  As her father stepped out of the buggy, he shook hands with Wayne, and after pleasantries about the weather turning cooler, Wayne said, “I know Grace isn’t quite sixteen yet, but I would like to ask your permission to take her to eat pizza next Saturday for dinner. We’re not having a baseball game at the Lantzes’ because the womenfolk are having a baby shower that day.”

  Grace held her breath. She’d just assumed that Wayne wouldn’t want anything to do with her anymore. And that had started to be okay. But maybe he’d realized that there were other ways for a couple to be close, besides what he had in mind. And after hearing him with Ben, and now so politely asking Grace’s father to take her out . . . Grace would go crazy if her father didn’t say yes.

  “Wayne, I’m told you’re a fine fellow,” Grace’s father said as she continued to hold her breath. “But we have plans next Saturday. Maybe another time, though.”

  “Daed.” Grace locked eyes with her f
ather, willing him to change his mind. “Please, Daed. I’d rather go eat pizza.”

  Her father frowned as he stroked his beard. Grace shouldn’t face off with her father in front of Wayne. “Please,” she added, glancing at Wayne and hoping she didn’t sound too desperate.

  “I was hoping you’d be able to go Saturday.” Grace’s father scratched his cheek, glanced at Wayne, then back at Grace. “I guess it will be okay.”

  Grace let go of the breath she was holding and smiled.

  “Pick you up at noon?” Wayne smiled, and Grace took off his coat and handed it back to him.

  “See you then,” she said.

  Thank You, God. And thank you, Daed.

  Eli felt all warm and fuzzy, as Leah used to say, watching Gracie clean the kitchen later that evening. She was humming and had been chattier than usual during supper, which she’d also prepared. A beef and potato casserole, her mother’s recipe. Eli rarely made the casserole, but it was Ben’s favorite, and the boy had enjoyed two generous helpings. Eli was well aware of the source of his daughter’s joyful mood, and his name was Wayne Huyard.

  “Daed, I have something to tell you.” Gracie tossed the kitchen towel over her shoulder, then pulled out a chair at the table, across from Eli. Ben had already excused himself to go feed the pigs and get the other animals secure for the night.

  “You’re welcome,” Eli said, grinning.

  Grace sat down, smiling herself. “I am grateful that you are letting me go with Wayne next Saturday, but I want to tell you something else.”

  Eli leaned back in his chair, then picked up his cup of coffee, a little concerned about the serious tone of his daughter’s voice. “What is it?”

  “I haven’t really wanted you to remarry.” She crinkled her nose as she pressed her lips together.

  This wasn’t news to Eli, but he just nodded.

  “I’ve been worried about replacing Mamm. It just didn’t feel right.”