Miriam's Quilt (3 page)

Did other people think her as prideful as well?

The very thought sent her marching to the house. The screen door slammed behind her as she rolled up her sleeves, pulled a bag of noodles from the cupboard, and poured its contents into the soup. While the noodles cooked, she opened a can of pumpkin and whipped up three loaves of pumpkin bread to put into the stove when the meat loaf finished cooking.

While dinner baked, Miriam ladled the soup with extra paprika into a bowl and took it to Susie’s room. Susie lay back on her pillow with her eyes open. She sat up when Miriam came in.

“Denki, Miriam. You are so kind.”

Miriam laid the tray over Susie’s lap. “I am not kind. I just told Seth Lambright to never come to our house again.”

“The horse boy?”

“He said I am a snob. It made me so mad, I almost closed the door on him.”

Susie caught her breath, and her mouth fell open. “A snob? How could anyone say that about you? I never would have thought that Seth Lambright could be so mean.”

Susie’s indignation cheered Miriam considerably.

“Next time he comes over,” said Susie, “I will give him a stern talking-to.”

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“Remember in grade school when Davie Shirk stole my lunch and threw it in the mud?”

“Jah.”

“Yost and his friends helped me attack him with snowballs after school.”

“I chastised you both,” Miriam said.

“Jah,” Susie said. “If Miriam won’t do it, then I know I shouldn’t do it either. Seth Lambright is safe from me. Even if he deserves a few snowballs.”

Miriam’s steps echoed through the quiet house as she tiptoed into the kitchen after returning home from the gathering. Despite her determination not to go, Ephraim had showed up at the door at exactly six fifteen and wouldn’t hear of her staying home.

Yost sat at the table eating a piece of pumpkin bread.

“Gute bread,” he said, motioning to her with his butter-covered slice.

“I got angry today,” Miriam said. After Seth riled her up this afternoon, Miriam had made three loaves in her indignation. She took one loaf to the Dennings, her
Englisch
neighbors across the road, and Mrs. Denning told her she was the nicest young lady in the neighborhood.

The nicest young lady. Take that, Seth Lambright.

“You cook when you’re angry?”

“And when I’m not.” Miriam cut herself a slice of bread, poured two glasses of milk, and sat at the table with Yost. Yost was Susie’s twin brother and, at seventeen, had grown to almost six feet.

“I thought you said you would come to the gathering tonight,” Miriam said.

Yost ran his thumb up and down his glass. “I had other stuff I had to do.”

“Like what? Clipping your toenails?”

The corners of Yost’s mouth turned up. “Plucking nose hairs.” He took a swig of milk. “How was the gathering?”

“Abner Yutzy conked Lizzie Zook on the head in volleyball.”

“He’s such a show-off,” said Yost, “just because he is tall. I never like to be on his team. He is a ball hog, plain and simple. Thinks he is the only one who can get the ball over the net.”

“He spiked it so hard that Lizzie didn’t have time to duck. She had to sit out the rest of the game.”

“Did you tell him to take it gentle?”

“We tried. But during the third game, little Sue Lyn Sensenig hit the ball harder than I’ve ever seen a girl hit it. I think she surprised herself. It flew straight up into Abner’s face and whacked him squarely in the nose.”

Yost laughed. “Did he cry?”

“Like a calf stuck in a fence. He might have broke it. It bled something crazy.”

“Serves him right,” Yost said, finishing his last bite. “That boy would spike the ball at his own
mammi
to win.”

“Don’t say such things, Yost. It’s uncharitable.” Miriam sighed and arched her back to stretch the tight muscles. She had rocked the Weavers’ new grandson for practically half the gathering. He was cutting teeth and as fussy as a grumpy bear. Miriam had taken the baby so his mamm could pass out lemonade, and then she cuddled and bounced and entertained him while everybody sang. Ephraim wasn’t happy having to share Miriam’s attentions with a baby, but Miriam was determined. Keeping the baby happy proved to be exhausting, but a less thoughtful girl would have given up after a few minutes.

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

To top off her display of humility after the gathering, Miriam did dishes and swept the floor while the Weavers took down chairs. Anyone noticing would see what a helpful, modest girl she was.

If he saw her behavior, a certain young man would have to eat his words.

Miriam growled inwardly. What did she care of Seth Lambright? Just as Ephraim said, he didn’t know anything about anything.

“I wonder how Susie is feeling.”

Yost took a last drink and glanced at Miriam. “What would you think if I bought a car?”

“A car? You cannot afford a car.”

“What if I could?”

Miriam curled her lips into the funny little expression she gave her brother when he said something ridiculous. “You can’t, so forget it. Everybody knows that boys who buy cars are trouble, looking to jump the fence. Don’t even suggest it.”

“I could drive you places so you wouldn’t have to walk or ride Daisy everywhere. Then I could sell it when I got baptized.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Joe Bieler bought a car last year.”

“He wrecked it, and his parents had to pay two thousand dollars for the fence. You are a Bontrager. The Bontragers don’t do such things.”

Yost frowned. “Sometimes I wish I were a Bieler.”

“You do not.”

“I do. Because then my parents and my righteous sister wouldn’t expect me to be perfect all the time.”

Miriam didn’t think she deserved his tone or his scornful words, but she ignored them and jumped up and cleared their empty glasses. “You could buy a bike.”

“Yeah, a bike. Loads of fun.”

Miriam let his sarcasm slide right off her. So he wanted a car. The desire would pass.

She glided up the stairs, skipping the fourth one that creaked like a rusty gate, and stepped into her dimly lit room. Susie sat on her bed in almost the same spot from this afternoon, staring at the far wall without seeing it.

Susie’s unusual behavior triggered the alarms in Miriam’s head. She must be very ill indeed.

“How do you feel?” Miriam asked.

“It is very bad,” Susie said.

“I will get Mamm.”

“No.” There was no mistaking the desperation contained in that single word. “Shut the door.”

Miriam did as Susie asked and then sat next to Susie, placing her hand on the back of Susie’s neck. Still no fever. “What’s wrong? Tell me how you are feeling.”

To Miriam’s surprise, Susie burst into tears and rocked back and forth with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

“I’m getting Mamm,” Miriam said as she rose from the bed.

Susie grabbed Miriam’s hand and pulled her back. “Miriam. Swear to me you will not tell Mamm or Dat.”

“That you are sick?”

“Swear.”

Miriam put her arm protectively around her sister. This behavior was the strangest of all. “I promise. What is the matter?”

“Do not leave me alone. Promise you won’t.”

“Susie, what are you talking about?”

“I am so, so wicked, and you are so perfect. You will not want me to be your sister.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

Susie lowered her voice as if she were afraid the walls were listening. Miriam could barely hear what came out of her mouth.

“I am going to have a baby.”

* * * * *

The words knocked the wind right out of Miriam. A baby? She found it impossible to wade through the dense fog of emotions and doubts that came with such a revelation.

Susie threw her arms around Miriam’s neck and sobbed into her shoulder. “Don’t leave me,” she said.

Stunned and reeling, Miriam haltingly wrapped her arms around Susie and squeezed tight so Susie knew she planned on hanging around. What else could she do?

“Are you sure?” Miriam said.

“I went to the drugstore yesterday for a pregnancy test. I was too ashamed to pay for it, so I hid it under my apron and took it into the bathroom right there at the store. Three positives.”

They sat for an eternity, sharing the weight of the world.

“How did this happen? Who is the father?” Miriam almost choked on the questions.

“He doesn’t know.”

Miriam thought of the boys Susie associated with. She could think of two or three Susie seemed to show a preference for, but none so close as to get her pregnant. Had she been too wrapped up in Ephraim to pay heed to her sister’s fall into sin?

Miriam pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I think the boy has to be told.”

“No, that is the last thing I want. I don’t want him to feel like he has to marry me.”

“He should do his duty.”

“I don’t ever want anyone to be forced to marry me.”

Miriam couldn’t argue with that. Every girl deserved a man who adored her and wanted to marry her because he couldn’t stand being apart. The bile rose in Miriam’s throat. Susie should have thought of that before trading away her virtue.

“What are we going to do?” Susie said.

We.
Susie’s problem was now Miriam’s. She had always been her sister’s protector, the one to shield her from pain and heartache. But this situation would not go away with a wave of Miriam’s hand. And what would the community think when the truth became obvious?

What would Ephraim say?

Miriam had few answers, but she did know one thing. Ephraim must never know. His opinion of Miriam and her family must never be damaged. The truth about Susie would devastate him.

“I am so wicked,” Susie said, clutching Miriam’s hand for reassurance.

For a split second, Miriam wanted to lash out at her sister.
Yes, you are. How could you do this to our family?

She bit her tongue. Susie craved her compassion, not her censure. No matter how she or Ephraim despised what Susie had done, Miriam would be kind. The Lord Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.” Who knew the strength of the temptation Susie had faced?

Miriam smoothed an errant lock of hair behind Susie’s ear. “You have done something very bad with serious consequences. But I know your heart, and you are not wicked. You are an angel to your brothers. You make pillowcases and hangings for the Haiti Mission Fund. I don’t remember a time when I have seen you angry. I know you are not wicked.”

Susie let out another gut-wrenching sob. “I’m afraid, Miriam.”

“What about Mamm and Dat?”

Susie grabbed Miriam’s wrist like a lifeline. “Don’t tell them. They will hate me.”

Miriam almost breathed a sigh of relief. The fewer people who knew, the better—even Mamm and Dat. Then there would be fewer ways for the awful truth to reach Ephraim’s ears. “Everything is going to be all right. We will put our heads together and come up with a solution. And pray. We need to pray.”

“I haven’t stopped praying for a week. In the bathroom at the drugstore, I begged the Lord for a negative test. I promised to do anything,
anything
for Him, if I wasn’t pregnant. He didn’t listen.”

“He listened,” Miriam said. “But He does not restrain our free will. Or the consequences.”

“I wish He did.”

With resolve, Miriam stood and propped her hands on her hips. “First things first. How is the morning sickness?”

“I wish it were only in the morning.”

“Can you get through work tomorrow? Then it will be the Sabbath.”

“Jah. I feel better knowing you will help me.”

“Tomorrow on my lunch break I will buy some ginger pills. And maybe peppermint tea.”

Susie flashed a cautious smile. “Oh Miriam, I love you. You are my only friend.”

Miriam sighed in resignation. Seth Lambright might despise her, but she would always have Susie’s loyalty.

Seth walked to his house with a lighter heart than he usually felt with his face toward home. All three of his horses had sold at the auction last week and brought more money than even he anticipated in his most liberal estimates. He determined that his profit would be enough, with his carefully accrued savings, to buy a prime stud horse he’d had his eye on.

He tried hard not to be carried away with optimism. For as carefully as he managed his resources, it seemed something always went wrong to derail his plans. The last time he came into some money, his dat’s roof had needed repair and his stepmother, Ellie, insisted that Seth help pay for it.

“You live here; you eat our food; we support you. The least you can
do is pay for the roof that shelters you and your brothers and sisters.”

Work at the mill paid well enough, but Seth looked forward to the day when he could breed horses full-time. But with Ellie dipping her hand into the savings with regularity, that goal seemed further and further away.

With a pencil behind her ear and a you’ve-got-to-do-something expression on her face, Laura met him at the front door. Ellie’s yippy little dog, Pookie, barked incessantly, as if Seth were an intruder instead of a person he saw every day after work. Maybe Pookie could smell Seth’s intense dislike.

Seth raised an eyebrow to Laura. “Problem?”

“Scilla has been standing in the corner for almost an hour.”

Seth nearly growled out loud as he took a deep breath and marched into the house. Nothing made him angrier than the mistreatment of his little sister, Priscilla.

Even Laura, with her modern ideas and superior education, didn’t dare confront their stepmother. Only Seth could make Ellie back down, and only then because he paid for groceries. He tried, heaven knew he tried, to show Dat’s wife the respect and honor due her, but no amount of honor would constrain him to stand by and watch one human being mistreat another.

He walked through the kitchen with its sparkly clean floor, past Ellie as if she weren’t even there, and into the washroom where Scilla stood in the corner, facing the wall.

“Cum, Scilla,” he said kneeling and taking her hand. “Your punishment is over.”

Scilla turned her tear-streaked face to Seth and threw her arms around his neck. “I didn’t mean to. I wanted to see the lady dance. Pookie barked at me.”

No wonder she’d been standing there for an hour. Priscilla had broken the weightiest commandment of all. She had dared to set foot in the “no-no room,” also known as the front sitting room, and Ellie’s six-inch guard dog had tattled on her.

Almost from the day she moved in, Ellie had designated the sitting room her sanctuary and did not allow anyone under the age of twenty to set a foot over its threshold. Actually, no one but Dat, Ellie, and that dog were welcome in the room containing two new sofas and a chest with Ellie’s prized music box.

The music box was a gross piece of vanity, but Ellie justified keeping it because it had belonged to her favorite mammi. When Ellie sat in the room by herself, she pulled the small box out of the chest, wound it up, and hummed along with the tune.

The music box fascinated Scilla, because when it opened, a tiny dancer in a fluffy skirt popped out and twirled in circles to the music. Even with the threat of severe punishment hanging over her head, Scilla couldn’t resist the temptation of the music box.

“She spanked me,” Scilla said.

Seth lifted Scilla into his arms and held her tight. “Come outside with me, and we will feed the chickens,” he said.

“Did Mamm say okay?” Scilla said.

Seth frowned. He still had to smooth things over with Ellie so she wouldn’t take her irritation out on the little ones when Seth was not home. And she was the “mother.” He had to at least try to show respect to her wishes, even if groveling was not in his nature.

With Scilla tightly in his arms, he emerged from the washroom into the kitchen. Ellie stood with her arms folded, a spatula clutched in one hand, glaring at Seth as if he were the angel of death.

Ellie stood nearly six feet tall with a square jaw and a thin, beak-like nose. Before she met Dat, she had been an old maid living as an only child with her parents in Ohio. One thing was certain: with her upbringing, she was accustomed to getting her own way.

Ellie waved her spatula in the direction of the washroom. “Get her back in there. The hour is not over yet.”

“How long has she been standing there?” Seth said, gritting his teeth. He mustn’t lose his temper before supper.

“Fifty-three minutes. She is not getting off a minute earlier than I say.”

“You have every right to be mad.” Seth tried his best to sound sympathetic. “Scilla should never have gone in there. But if she has learned her lesson, do you think you could give her seven minutes of mercy?”

“She has gone into the no-no room three times in the last month. I won’t stand for it.”

Seth nudged Scilla, who had her face buried in Seth’s neck. “Scilla, tell Ellie you are—”

Ellie cleared her throat and bit her upper lip.

“Tell Mamm you are sorry.”

“I am sorry,” Scilla said, the regret evident in her pathetic little voice.

Seth jostled his sister. “And promise to not go in there unless you are invited.”

“Yes.”

Ellie stood like a statue, considering her options. Seth knew of her reluctance to concede anything to him, but she showed him grudging courtesy for the support he gave the family.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll let you out seven minutes early. But let this be a lesson to you.”

Seth swallowed his pride. “Thank you.”

Ellie leveled her spatula at Scilla. “Go outside so you aren’t underfoot before supper. And take care on my clean floor.”

Seth set Scilla down, and she scampered through the door like a convict out of prison.

Ellie turned her attention to the chicken frying in the pan. “She will turn into a rotten child if you keep spoiling her. I try to teach her discipline and responsibility, but you block me at every turn. That is Laura’s problem. No one kept her behavior in check, and look how she turned out. Spare the rod, spoil the child.”

“In the Bible, the rod is a stick used to guide the sheep, not hit them.”

She scowled as if he had said something offensive. “You are just like Laura, thinking you are so smart. But I’ll tell you something, young man. I’ve been reading the Bible for thirty-nine years. I know the Bible. Don’t think you can lecture me on what the Bible says. You’ll lose that contest every time.”

Seth longed to point out that if she had been reading the Bible for thirty-nine years, she must have learned to read directly out of the womb. Instead, he shut his mouth, stirred the corn, and set the table. Scilla had been delivered from bondage. That was all that mattered.

“My two sisters and their husbands are going on a Florida cruise in November,” Ellie said. “I know your dat would like to go.”

Seth didn’t reply. He knew what Ellie wanted, but he refused to sacrifice his hard-earned money so that Ellie and Dat could sail around the peninsula. But there was no use in getting Ellie’s hackles up again. Let her interpret his silence any way she wanted.

Ellie glanced at the clock that chimed a different birdcall for each hour. “Your
fater
is late again. He assured me that he would be home by five o’clock without fail.” She put her hands on her hips. “If he insists on being late, I suppose we will simply eat without him. Call the children, Seth.”

Seth stuck his head out the back door, where his little brothers, Joshua and Jacob, knelt weeding the garden. “Supper,” he said. “Bring Scilla.”

Both brothers leaped from the ground, and eight-year-old Jacob threw himself into Seth’s arms. “I caught a salamander. A great big one.”

“Show me.” Seth set Jacob on his feet, snatched the hat from Joshua’s head, and threw it like a Frisbee.

“Hey!” Joshua giggled as he sprinted to the forsythia bush to retrieve his hat. Jacob’s eyes twinkled. “It’s in the barn. I will show you after supper.”

“You should have seen Jakey’s face,” Joshua called as he ran back to Seth with his hat firmly in place. “We was weeding the garden and his fingers touched it before he even saw it. It was all slimy, and he jumped forty feet in the air.”

“I did not.”

“Can I come to help with the horses tonight?” Joshua asked.

“Of course,” Seth said. “If Ellie gives permission.”

Jacob jumped up and down. “Me too?”

“Jah, you too. Now go fetch Scilla from the swings and come to supper.”

Seth smiled as his brothers practically danced their way to the swing set and helped Scilla down from the slide. He ducked back into the house and trudged up the two flights of stairs to Laura’s bedroom in the attic. Laura sat in her usual place by the A-shaped window, reading
Elements of Psychology
with a highlighter in her hand.

Laura loved books as much as Seth loved horses. Even as a small girl she had resisted the Amish traditions, but when Mamm died five years ago, Laura, who was twelve at the time, made her mind up that she would not join the church. A shocking decision for a young Amish girl.

After primary school, she enrolled at the public high school and studied persistently to catch up with the other students. She had always been exceptionally bright. Now at the end of her senior year, she had been accepted to the University of Wisconsin with a full year’s scholarship. One more reason Miriam Bontrager and her boyfriend thought of the Lambrights as an unfortunate family. Dat hadn’t been happy about Laura’s decision, but he dealt with his disappointment as he did every other problem. He ignored it.

“I thought you took the AP test last week,” Seth said.

“That was biology. This week is psychology and calculus.”

“I don’t even know how to spell those words, let alone take a test on them.”

“Psychology will be easy. Calculus might kill me.” Laura shut her book. “I don’t remember a word I just read. I was so upset about Scilla. Did you work it out with Ellie?”

“Jah, but I wish I’d come home sooner.”

“I never know what to do when she gets like that. I even tried to quote psychology to her about appropriate punishments for children, and she said, ‘It’s a good thing you are smart, because you ain’t pretty.’ I got my feelings hurt and gave up. I am such a coward.”

“Do not be hard on yourself. It is easy to make things worse with Ellie.”

“You
never do.”

Seth shook his head.

Laura laid her book on the window seat. “I want to go to college mighty bad, Seth, but what will the boys and Scilla do when I leave and you move out to your farm? I cannot leave them with her.”

“I sold three horses at the auction.”

“Three! That is wonderful-gute. Did you get a gute price?”

“This fall I will have enough to build a small house on the farm and move the boys and Scilla in with me.”

Laura stared at Seth in astonishment. “What will Dat say?”

“Do you honestly think he will care?”

“Of course he will care, Seth. Why are you so hard on him?”

“Maybe because he’s never done anything to prove me wrong. If he would stick up for his own
kinna,
I wouldn’t have to.”

“But to take his children?”

“Ellie and Dat haven’t had much time alone since they married three years ago,” Seth said. “I will plant the idea in her head and she will convince Dat in no time. She always does.”

“But how will you support yourself?”

Seth shrugged. “We will get by. I may not know how to do calculus, but I can add numbers. I will work extra shifts at the mill. Joshua and Jacob can help with the horses and farming. I already pay for most of the food that comes into this house.”

Laura smiled with restrained gladness. “If we had our own house, I wouldn’t have to put up with Ellie during Christmas break. I could send money home every month from my job.”

“Nae, keep your money. College is expensive. I will manage.”

Someone stepped lightly up the stairs to the attic. “Seth,” they heard Scilla say as she knocked softly on the door, “Mamm says come down for dinner or we will eat without you and if you think you can eat later you got another think coming. And Laura too. And wash your hands.”

Seth opened the door and invited Scilla into the room. He sat down on the bed and pulled Scilla onto his lap. Pointing to Laura, he said, “Look at your sister, Scilla. She’s pretty, ain’t not?”

“Jah,” agreed Scilla, “she is the prettiest.”

Seth smoothed the hair sticking out of Scilla’s bob. “I hope you grow up as pretty as her.”

“Ach, stop with the flattery,” Laura said, but she smiled and blushed bright red.

“You are very pretty, Laura. Don’t ever let Ellie tell you otherwise, either of you.”

They heard Pookie from two flights down, yapping his annoyance at Dat’s arrival. Seth scooped Scilla in his arms and hopped down the stairs. Although Ellie was an excellent cook, Seth seldom looked forward to supper with the family. Ellie’s company proved irksome.

Seth sighed.
“Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land.”
He recited that verse to himself several times a day.

Ach, if only he could root this knot of resentment from his heart— resentment for his dat’s indifference, his stepmother’s selfishness, and his mother’s death. Seth resolved to pray harder to show more kindness to those who trespassed against him.

Trespassed against him.

As soon as the thought formed in his mind, he cringed at his own arrogance. How could he justify holding on to supposed wrongs when his own behavior was so imperfect? Who was he to criticize a mote in someone’s eye with a beam in his own?

A stab of guilt caught him between the shoulder blades as he thought of his behavior toward Miriam Bontrager. He shouldn’t have let his irritation take control of his nobler instincts. No amount of bad treatment justified hurting her feelings. What a hypocrite he was!

Seth placed Scilla on her stool and sat in his place next to Joshua. The moment Laura plopped into her chair, Dat bowed his head and the rest of the family followed in silent grace. Seth breathed in the mouthwatering aromas—mashed sweet potatoes with cinnamon, fried chicken, and corn.