Lilly's Wedding Quilt (17 page)
Mary Wyse cuffed him on the head. “Let your brother be. And let him get some food into his stomach at least.”
“
Mamm
, I don’t mean any harm. I’m just giving Jacob the chance to talk about how he feels. I mean, he could be a tortured soul in disguise.”
“All right, all right. That’s enough,” Jacob muttered, eating his scrambled eggs in three gulps. “Why I ever chose you as my attendant is beyond me.”
Seth smiled and took a bite of toast. “Of course, Lilly may have to take the schoolteacher’s switch after you now and then, but no doubt you’d deserve it.”
“Son,” Samuel Wyse admonished. “Give your brother peace.”
Jacob reached across the table and shook his father’s hand, then smacked his brother in the shoulder. “Let’s go. We’ve got to be there to greet the guests.”
Seth grinned at him conspiratorially as he rubbed at his shoulder. “Watch it big
bruder
, or I might give you a smack of your own back—wouldn’t want you to be in pain on your wedding night.”
Jacob gave him a warning frown as his
mamm
came forward to embrace him. “We’ll follow shortly, boys.” Then she sniffed and turned away. Jacob caught her back against him. “
Mamm
, I love you.
Danki
for all that you’ve ever done for me.”
Seth hustled him away from their
mamm
. “Yes, yes … lots of love. Why not save some for your bride?”
L
illy tried to relax as Alice ran a brush through her long dark hair and began the intricate process of coiling it into a mass that would stay put. She looked at herself in the small bureau mirror and saw what she was—pale, anxious, and exhilarated. It was combination enough to make her feel vaguely like throwing up. She clutched the embroidered hankie that her
mamm
had thoughtfully given her just a few moments before; a token of love and times past that meant her mother gave her blessing to the day.
“It’s
gut
to see your
mamm
up and dressed for the wedding,” Alice murmured, her mouth lined with hairpins. “How do you feel?”
Like I’m about to jump off a cliff
. “Well, there’s no going back now,” she said with a note of cheerful humor.
She saw Alice’s frown in the reflection of the mirror and watched her snatch the pins from her lips. “You can call it off, Lilly. Right now, even. Sure, folks would be put out, but they’d get over it. You don’t have to settle for anyone … not even a prize like Jacob.”
Lilly swallowed and wondered where the composure from her early morning prayers had gone. Her composure had vanished, but her confidence had not. “He might consider me second-best, Alice, but I’m not settling with Jacob. It’s what I want. Truly.”
I want this … I want to be married to Jacob … I do
.
Alice sighed and resumed pinning. “Then I’m happy for you. I guess there’s no marriage that’s easy right off—though I’m hardly an expert.” She gave her plump hip a rueful pat. “I doubt I’ll ever have to fret about a man’s attentions, no matter how much I’d love to be married.” Lilly met her friend’s eyes in the mirror. “You will know sometime.”
“We’ll see.” Alice smiled. “But today is about you.” She tucked a final pin into the intricate coil of hair and reached for a
kapp
. “There, you’re beautiful. Pinch your cheeks a bit to bring out the color.”
Lilly reached a hand to her face, watching herself in the mirror with surreal fascination. Then she pinched herself and the pain reminded her that today was very real, with its nerves and nausea. But she had never felt so excited in all her life.
T
he house felt overly warm to Lilly as she sat in the straight-backed chair and tried not to think about the fact that she was probably perspiring under the arms of her blue wedding dress. After the guests were seated, she’d entered with Alice in attendance, her hands folded tightly before her. And she’d deliberately avoided looking at Jacob until she was properly seated opposite him. Then she took a quick peek from beneath her lashes and had to catch her breath at his handsomeness. He’d caught her gaze back too and winked one warm eye, and she’d felt happy and secure for the moment.
The bishop rose to give some words of advice—or perhaps it would be a longer sermon—to encourage she and Jacob, as was the custom.
Lilly never knew what was going to come out of Bishop Loftus’s mouth. He was always wise and right, or so it seemed, but he always got to things in a funny way. Now he paced briefly, then looked to the slatted wood ceiling and back again at the small gathering.
“I’d like to raise the point that God doesn’t care if you’re happy.”
Oh, great
, Lilly thought.
Perfect for my wedding day
.
“Nope, He doesn’t care if you’re happy, but He does care, very much, if you have joy.”
Lilly looked up.
“Now some of you will say that the two are one and the same—happiness and joy—but this is not so. Happiness is a feeling. Happiness is fleeting, dependent on the moment, the circumstances, even the weather. Joy is transcendent, enduring, and, in the biblical context, is not an emotion. Joy is an attitude of the heart. Joy brings us peace, a refuge in the midst of troubles. God gives us joy through His Spirit. But the enemy tries to steal your joy and give you temporary happiness instead. Now, is there anything wrong with being happy?
Nee
, but it cannot last. So, you may wonder why I bring up the difference between these two—it is simple really.” He fixed Jacob and Lilly with his dark, raisin-like eyes.
“I bring it up to advise you, because marriage—in its true, everyday, working, living, dying state—is not easy and not much fun.”
Jacob coughed abruptly into his fist.
“No, marriage is sacred before the Lord, a decision for a lifetime, but too often I think young people look upon it as a source of happiness. Do not look at marriage this way. See it as a reservoir of joy, a deep, welling spring that endures the icy blast of temper, the bite of an angry word, the void of loneliness in a heart hungry for talk when there is no response.”
The bishop positively inspires one to want to be married
, Lilly considered ruefully with nervous humor. She wondered what Jacob was thinking.
The bishop spoke again earnestly. “Seek joy in each other, not happiness. Amen.” He stopped with his customary abruptness.
Lilly tried to ignore the stiffness in her limbs while the bishop went on to bellow out supporting scripture. Finally, he made a motion with his small, wrinkled hand, and Lilly rose to walk forward before the assembled guests to join right hands with Jacob. She took a deep breath.
It was time for the bishop to ask questions of each of them, similar to the vow questions asked at
Englisch
weddings. But Ezekiel Loftus was either too old or too wise to ask the normal questions regarding obeying, sickness, and health. Lilly had sat through many a wedding when the old man had the couple squirming with embarrassment and the guests gathered suppressing laughter—which was why she’d been dreading this. She hoped that today he was in a sober frame of mind. She held her breath as he began to pace in front of her and Jacob, his wizened arms behind his back. Finally, he turned to Jacob, and Lilly felt her groom’s hand grow warm in her own.
“Jacob Wyse?”
“Yes, sir?”
The bishop stroked his long gray beard and peered up at Jacob.
“Do you promise to love Lilly Lapp more than you do those horses of yours? Because it’s a known thing that you might tend to your horse before your
fraa
, and that simply might not do in the case of childbirth or fire.”
Lilly felt the small crowd shift behind her and heard a sudden stifled chuckle.
Jacob spoke with complete seriousness. “I do promise, sir.”
“To what?”
“To … love and care for Lilly … more than horses and whatever you just said, sir.”
“Uh-huh. And do you promise, my son, to love Lilly Lapp beyond all others, beyond any other—as long as
Derr Herr
gives you life?”
Lilly resisted the urge to look at the floor as the crowd stilled behind her.
“I do so promise, sir,” Jacob said steadily.
The old man nodded in apparent satisfaction, then swung his gaze to Lilly who met his eyes without flinching.
“Lilly Lapp?”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured.
“Hmmm … well, let’s see, you’re the schoolteacher, which means you’re honorable, trustworthy, and loyal …”
Lilly felt vaguely like he was likening her to a dog.
“And you care for your
mamm
, show love for your neighbors, and are, I believe, of excellent character. Why are you marrying this man?”
The guests tittered, but the bishop’s dark eyes were steady, penetrating. Lilly took a deep breath and half-turned to Jacob.
“I marry him because I’ve always had respect for him, since we were
kinner
. He loves the creatures made by
Derr Herr’s
hand; he loved my father—” Her voice shook a bit.
“Go on,” the bishop ordered.
She wet her lips and saw that Jacob was looking at the floor, not at her, almost as if he felt he didn’t deserve her words. She spoke louder and he lifted his eyes to her own. “
Derr Herr
has provided this man as a proper and fitting husband for my heart and home. I marry him of my choice and of my privilege. He is—my friend and completes my life like the pieces of a quilt are worked to complete a whole.”
Jacob’s eyes gleamed golden green and she felt lost in the moment, as if they stood alone.
The bishop cleared his throat and spoke in High German as he enclosed his wrinkled hands about Lilly’s and Jacob’s own. “Well then, before the Lord, these two make a vow to wed. And I give my blessing upon their union, that they may live long and joyfully together, with laps full of children and hearts filled with love.”
Lilly came back to the moment at the sounds of benches creaking and people beginning to talk, which made her realize the wedding was over. She was Lilly Wyse now, and though the bishop had dropped his hands after his blessing, she and Jacob still stood staring at each other with hands clasped.
“Come now,” the bishop snapped. “It’s time for turkey and dressing. It’s near starving that I am. Jacob, you’ve got all your life to look upon her. And Lilly, go and talk to those school
kinner
who behaved so well throughout the service.”
Lilly loosed her hand to go and obey the bishop but she was conscious of Jacob’s eyes as she moved about the room, embracing and being held in both congratulations and joy.
Alice gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Some things won’t change between us, Lilly Wyse. You can always come to me for any support you need.”
Lilly rejoiced as her mother hugged her, then moved on to tentatively embrace Jacob. Lilly thought it might be a good beginning for the future between her
mamm
and husband.
T
he last of the guests left at dark, having stayed to help clean up and wish the couple final farewells, even though it was customary for the bride and the groom to clear up alone. Mrs. Lapp had gone to bed much later than usual, doing Lilly the honor of greeting everyone and participating in the day’s celebration, even though Lilly could tell that the event was a strain. It hadn’t been particularly wondrous for her either, she realized. she’d felt uncertain at moments when guests had teased good-naturedly about her and Jacob’s hidden courtship, yet there was nothing hidden before the Lord surely. Still, she now stood uncertainly in the quiet kitchen, fingering one of her
kapp
strings.
Jacob leaned against the sink, sipping from a glass of water he’d poured himself. “Well, Mrs. Wyse—what shall we do now?”
Lilly went to the desk in the sitting room. “I’ve got your wedding gift.” She pulled a thin, simply wrapped package from the desk and slid the drawer closed. She brought it to him with a hesitant smile. “I hope you like it.”
He put the water glass down and accepted the present. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”
She watched his tan fingers work at the wrapping and waited with
naerfich
anticipation for his reaction. He pulled out a primer she’d made and held it closer to the light of the lamp.
“The cover’s pretty,” he observed, studying the pencil sketching of the mountains in winter.
It wasn’t the cover that she was worried about, she thought, then held her breath as he turned to the first page.
She waited while he moved closer to the lamp. She knew what he was looking at, the delicate fingertips of a woman’s hand pressed against the strength of a man’s open palm, a gesture of consent, yielding …
“I don’t know what the word is,” he said, his voice husky as he indicated the letters at the top of the sketch.
“Touch.”
He swallowed and turned the page.
Again, she forgot to breathe. she’d drawn him as she remembered him the day at the sink when she’d helped change his bandage—his broad back bare, his dark head bent, as if he waited in a posture half taut, half yearning.
“Back?” he asked, and she nodded, noticing that a flush stained the strong bones of his face. She hoped she hadn’t gone too far.