The Beginning, page 16
Susie agreed. “It was nice to be in air conditioning with Mamma at market most of the day.”
“Didn’t Britta go?” asked Verena, glancing around for her.
“She’s in Landisville again, helpin’ Polly with the children this weekend.”
“An extra pair of hands is a big help.”
“And little Joey thinks Britta’s the best thing since graham crackers.” Susie laughed and noticed her cousin’s face still glowed, though perhaps not so much from being overheated during her scooter ride. “You seem mighty happy this evening.”
“Ain’t I always?” Verena wiped her brow with a hankie.
“Jah, but there’s something different . . . something more. Am I right?”
“Could be that I’m in love.” Verena dipped her head, then she looked back at Susie. “And . . . engaged to marry Isaac Lapp on Thanksgiving Day.”
“This is wunnerbaar-gut news!”
“Isn’t it?” Verena went on to extol the merits of her fiancé, adding, “He plans to rent a house from his father once we’re wed.” Then, stopping, she reached for Susie’s hand. “I’d like ya to be one of my side sitters at our wedding.”
“Oh, cousin,” Susie said, tears welling up. “I’d love to.”
“Marnie will be the other bridesmaid, of course.”
Now both girls were fighting back tears.
“It’ll be the dearest day,” Verena murmured, eyes gleaming.
Susie nodded. “I couldn’t be happier for you!” And while she truly meant it, she couldn’t help but feel a little wistful.
Verena smiled. “Wanted you to be the first to know after my parents and Marnie,” she said, going on to add that, unknown to her, Isaac had talked privately with her father about his proposal weeks ago. “Then last Sunday evening, while we were out walking at sunset, he asked me to marry him.”
“So romantic, ain’t?”
Verena agreed. “The nicest setting for a proposal, really. I’ll never forget it.”
Isaac has made her forget any past heartache, Susie thought. “It’s obvious the Lord had someone very special in mind for you,” she said, truly pleased for her cousin.
Even though Mamma seemed all in from market, it was her idea to make homemade vanilla ice cream. So Susie insisted Mamma rest indoors while she and Verena took turns with the hand crank out on the back porch.
Later, when Susie dished up ice cream for each of them, she spooned up some strawberry jam to top it off and invited her mother to join them on the porch. Mamma came outside to join them, cooling her glistening face with a pretty hand fan she’d gotten at a farm sale years ago.
“Are ya lookin’ forward to your trip to Missouri?” Cousin Verena remarked.
Mamma nodded. “I really am.”
“When will ya go?”
“September. The farther away I get from springtime allergies, the better,” Mamma told Verena.
“The grandkids out there are so excited.” Susie glanced at her mother. “Of course, Allen and Sarah are pretty happy, too.”
“That’s a big trip,” Verena said, eyes wide, as if concerned.
“The Lord will be right there with me,” Mamma replied, still fanning herself.
Susie smiled and prayed all would be well.
Once Verena said her good-byes, Susie finished sweeping the porch as twilight fell. She even went inside to gather up the rag rugs in the sitting room and carried them out to hang on the clothesline, where she beat the dust out of them with a broom, even though she’d done this two days ago. Once the rugs were brought back in and placed in their usual spots, Mamma asked why she was still cleaning so late in the day.
“Just tryin’ to keep the dust down for ya.”
“Oh,” her mother said, looking a bit ferhoodled. “Do ya think I’m allergic to that, too?” She continued to study her. “Or is something botherin’ ya, dear?”
Susie refused to meet Mamma’s eyes. “You know me. I like a spotless house.”
Mamma’s head tilted as if there was a whole lot more she might like to say.
Quickly, Susie offered her some fresh fruit or warm tea, but Mamma politely declined both. And once Susie finished sweeping, she excused herself to go upstairs to her room, lest she reveal the emotion she’d been holding back ever since Verena’s visit.
“The dearest day,” Verena had said of her wedding day, and the words continued to echo in Susie’s mind as she brushed her long hair, one hundred strokes on each side before bedtime. She had to wonder how she’d feel serving as her younger cousin’s wedding attendant.
But no, she knew, oh, how she knew.
The season for love has passed me by, she thought, staring at herself in the dresser mirror, refusing to cry about Obie.
CHAPTER
27
A hint of autumn pervaded the early September air the afternoon before Mamma was scheduled to leave for Missouri. Susie had been working with Britta near the carriage shed, using large sponges to wash down the gray enclosed buggy, both sisters talking quietly about how they would miss Mamma for the upcoming two weeks.
“’Tween you an’ me,” Susie said, glancing back at the house, where Mamma was doing some last-minute packing, “I’m glad she waited till now to go. For one thing, she’s stronger than she was last spring.”
“I think so, too,” Britta agreed as she soaped the headlights. “It’ll be a special time for her. Allen and Sarah will see to it.”
“Jah,” Susie said, a lump in her throat when she thought of the long fifteen-hour journey ahead for Mamma. “I’ll be praying for that, and for traveling mercies.”
While the three of them awaited the twelve-passenger van’s arrival early the next morning, Mamma kissed Susie and Britta on their cheeks and thanked them for “keepin’ the home fires burning.”
“Of course, Mamma. We love ya and are glad to do it,” Susie said as they stood in the kitchen together.
“I love yous, too . . . very much.” Mamma’s eyes gleamed with tears.
Britta’s chin quivered. “You’ll write to us, jah?”
Mamma coughed several times and patted her black shoulder bag. “My stationery and best pen are right here, along with some stamps. And Allen will leave a phone message for ya once I arrive late tonight.”
Susie was heartened by that and picked up Mamma’s suitcase for her, trusting that Allen would indeed take good care of their mother, like he’d mentioned when he’d first presented the idea.
Outside, Mamma repeated her good-byes as the van arrived, and Susie and Britta stood at the end of the driveway waving as the Mennonite driver took the bag and helped their mother inside.
Lord, be with Mamma, Susie prayed while she and Britta walked slowly toward the house afterward. She didn’t voice her concern to her sister, but she felt it with everything in her.
For the rest of that morning, Susie poured her energy into the start of fall cleaning. The enormous chore began with washing all the windows inside and out, using the extension ladder. Susie and Britta worked together, each of them pointing to streaks or spots missed on either side of the window before moving on to the next.
When the windows were spotless, Susie and Britta scrubbed down the walls and floors. Susie only stopped working at mealtime. Britta was eager to cook, insisting Susie not skip eating just because Mamma wasn’t around. But their mother’s health and well-being weighed on Susie’s mind, especially the little cough she’d had that morning, and she glanced frequently at the wall clock.
After evening prayers, Susie worked on her current family tree, recalling how Eli would often linger in the front room with her parents, sometimes asking questions about Dat’s evening Scripture reading. My brother’s heart was preparing for heaven. . . .
Eventually, Susie headed upstairs to bed. Long after midnight, she awoke from deep slumber and couldn’t find a comfortable position and had a difficult time returning to sleep. She thought of going to the stable to check for Allen’s voice mail—surely Mamma had arrived by now. But she made herself stay put, thinking she should try to sleep and simply listen to the phone message in the morning.
But the idea rolled around in her head till she finally dragged herself out of bed, fumbled for her bathrobe, and found the flashlight on her bedside table. Yawning, she made her way out into the dark night and to the stable.
Inside, she shone the light on the old wall phone and listened to the short message from Allen saying that Mamma had arrived. “I’m afraid she sounds a little rough—has a bit of a rasp in her voice and is running a low fever. Hopefully she’ll be doing better after some rest, but I’ll be in touch to let ya know.”
Susie groaned and hung up the phone, then trudged back toward the house. I shouldn’t’ve let her go. . . .
The sky was pitch-black, and frogs croaked eerily in the nearby pond. She turned off the flashlight and stared into the darkness, feeling even more responsible for Britta and the upkeep of the house and livestock.
I must trust God to care for Mamma, she thought, suddenly aware of the night’s penetrating chill.
Britta was out in the stable the following afternoon, freshening the bedding straw for their horses and the pony, when the wall phone rang. Startled, she rushed to answer it. “Hullo?”
“Britta, it’s Allen.”
She tensed at the flat sound of his voice. “Is Mamma all right?” She looked out the window, toward the back of the house, wondering if Susie should have answered instead.
“That’s why I called,” Allen replied. “Her fever spiked this mornin’, and she’s developed a cough.” He went on to say that they’d taken Mamma to a walk-in clinic. “She didn’t wanna go, but Sarah and I talked her into it. The doctor there said she has a pretty bad pneumonia, and because of her asthma, he wanted us to take her to the nearby hospital.”
Britta felt a wave of shock at the news. “The hospital? It’s that serious?” She felt sick about this. “Ach, poor Mamma.”
“She’s getting gut care—don’t worry. An’ be sure to tell Susie, won’t ya?”
She promised to, and Allen said he’d be in touch in a few days, unless, of course, something changed.
For the worse, he means. Hanging up the phone, Britta felt limp. Mamma must be awful sick. . . .
Heart pounding, she hurried back to the house to tell Susie, praying all the way for the dear Lord to have mercy on their precious mother.
For the next two days, Susie felt like she was holding her breath for an update on Mamma, sending Britta regularly out to the stable phone to check for a message during the daylight hours. It was hard to feel motivated to do anything, but with the fall vegetables coming on fast now, they had to continue the normal business of canning and working at their roadside stand and Mamma’s little shop.
Susie also encouraged Britta to go ahead with her original plan to play volleyball in a few days at Hazel’s with a group of other girls. “If Allen calls, I’ll let ya know as soon as you return.”
Britta frowned, clearly reluctant. “I’m too worried ’bout Mamma to enjoy myself.”
“Neither of us can do anything here ’cept pray,” Susie said, urging her to try to have some fun.
Allen’s next phone call came while both Susie and Britta were in the stable, shoveling out the stalls. Susie literally ran to answer.
“Gut news.” Allen’s voice sounded so good in Susie’s ear. “Mamm’s steadily improving. And the doctor says she’ll be discharged day after tomorrow.”
“Ach, such a relief!”
“I would’ve called sooner but decided to wait till we knew more.”
Susie wanted to ask what caused the sudden illness, but she couldn’t bear to hear that the trip might have been too much for Mamma. “Tell her Britta and I are thinking ’bout her and praying, too.”
“I’ll do that,” Allen said. “How are yous getting along?”
“Doin’ okay . . . but missin’ Mamma.”
“Understandable. She’s going to write ya when she feels up to it.”
Hearing this made Susie smile. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“Meanwhile, could you and Britta send her a note?” Allen asked. “Also, since she’s been in the hospital for part of her visit, Sarah and I will be keepin’ her with us a while longer. We don’t want to rush her home without some time to mend.”
“I’m not surprised.” Susie certainly didn’t see the sense of Mamma going out there all that way, just to hurry home.
“We’ll look after her real gut,” Allen assured her. “Don’t worry.”
Susie was thankful for that. “Denki for callin’.”
“Okay. Tell Britta hullo, too.”
“She’s right here, listening to my side of the conversation. She’s been helpin’ muck out the stalls.”
“Wish Henry lived closer; he could help yous with that,” Allen said, as if he really meant to say that he wished he lived closer.
“It’s not the most pleasant chore, but it’s gut exercise.” Susie laughed.
After hanging up the phone, Susie immediately told her sister the news of Mamma’s expected release from the hospital the day after tomorrow.
A look of relief passed over Britta’s face; then she grimaced. “I hate that she can’t come home when she’d planned to.”
“I know. But let’s be glad Mamma received the help she needed at the hospital. She seems to be recoverin’ so much more quickly than last January.”
“Thank the Lord for that,” Britta said.
Later, after supper and before Bible reading and prayer, both Susie and Britta sat down at the kitchen table to write letters to their mother.
Susie made a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies after Britta left on her scooter for the girls’ volleyball games at Hazel’s that afternoon. While the cookies were cooling, Susie slipped off to her room and found the box beneath her bed where she’d kept all of Obie’s many letters.
She removed the rubber band and lifted the flap on one of his early ones, written some weeks after the very first. Seeing his familiar handwriting, she paused, something rising in her heart.
Recalling his first mention about writing to her, she easily put herself back in the carriage next to him in her memory. Oh, how happy she’d felt, yet tense. Her first and only ride with her dear friend.
There had been another time, after a Singing, when he’d seemed especially reticent—after all the youth had paired up and left—and she’d thought for sure he would ask to take her riding. But he hadn’t.
Maybe if I’d let him know I was interested in him that way, she thought. Might that have changed everything?
But no, I let Obie go, she thought as she began to read the letter.
Later, sighing, she thumbed through the pile and slipped that letter back into its envelope. She sat there, holding the letters, thankful for this time alone, though embarrassed she’d kept them this long.
I really should get rid of these, she thought, staring at the letters she had so treasured. Obie’s not mine to love.
Britta’s worry over Mamma had subsided somewhat over the past few days, and she played some of her best volleyball. She was thrilled to see Hazel again, as well as quite a few of Hazel’s and her respective girl cousins.
After they’d played hard, Hazel served cookies and lemonade amidst plenty of chatter and a bit of gossip. Britta, for her part, spent time talking with Cousin Miriam Mast, who was newly engaged and very happy to tell Britta all about it.
“Say, is Susie seein’ anyone?” Miriam asked quietly as they walked over to the springhouse near where Britta had parked her white scooter. They sat on the steps leading down.
“Not that I know of.” Britta felt uncomfortable discussing her sister like this.
“Susie’s real private, ain’t she?”
“Susie’s business is her own,” Britta replied. “And that’s just fine.” Then, since Miriam had been nosy, she decided to ask her a question. “I’ve been wondering . . .”
Miriam leaned closer, her blue eyes questioning.
“You’re close to Susie’s age. Have you ever heard ’bout when I arrived in Hickory Hollow?”
“Are ya talking about before you were adopted?”
Britta nodded her head, hoping Miriam might share at least a morsel of information.
“Well, years ago now I heard that, at some point, there was a caseworker who checked up on ya several times. Prob’ly normal for a foster child.”
“Where’d ya hear this?” Britta asked.
“Oh, Mamma telling one of her sisters. Just small talk, ya know.”
“When did the person stop checking on me?”
“Ya musta been two or maybe three. Old enough to walk and talk and play with the other little ones.”
Britta felt self-conscious, if not uneasy. “What if you were adopted? Wouldn’t ya want to know how it came about?”
Miriam’s face scrunched up. “I’m not sure I’d care much, to be honest.”
“Really?” Britta found this hard to believe.
Shaking her head again, Miriam glanced toward the small pond in front of the springhouse below. “How would your Mamma feel if she knew you were talking ’bout this with me?”
“Well, you’re not the only one I’ve asked.” Britta told her that she’d tried some time ago to get as many pieces together as possible. “Guess I want to finally satisfy my curiosity.”
“Curiosity . . . or is there more to it?”
“Puh! I’ve prob’ly said too much already.” Britta got up and reached for her scooter. “Nice talkin’ with you, but I best be getting home.”
“Okay, we’ll talk another time. Bye-bye,” Miriam called to her.
I shouldn’t’ve mentioned anything to her, Britta thought, hurrying along.
Bringing the scooter was a good idea, Britta thought as she pushed hard with her left foot, then coasted slightly downhill as she drew near Aendi Emmalyn’s. As she often did, she noticed the spot where Eli had died, and it crossed her mind that the flowers showing up every year on that day might mean something. But what?
