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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

The Decision (39 page)

BOOK: The Decision
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Grandma opened her eyes and squealed, “Millie! You’ve come home!”

Elaine was tempted to explain that it wasn’t really Millie but decided it would be better to let Grandma think whatever she wanted.

“Why don’t you take off your dress so it doesn’t get wrinkled, and then you can sleep in your underskirt?”

With a brief nod, Grandma did as she was told. A few minutes later, holding Millie in one hand, she was tucked under the covers in Elaine’s bed. With a peaceful smile on her face, Grandma fell asleep soon after.

“Thank you, heavenly Father,” Elaine whispered as she slipped under the covers on the other side of Grandma.

A frightening thought occurred to her.
What if Grandma had actually gone outside, hitched her horse to the buggy, and headed down the road? In her state of confusion, she’d surely have gotten lost
.

Elaine clutched the edge of her quilt.
I need to do something to prevent that from happening. I’m just not sure what
.

CHAPTER 38

E
laine smiled as she watched the birds flit from feeder to feeder as though in search of the best seeds. She’d just finished filling each of the bird feeders and had left Grandma in the house, where she’d been relaxing in the living room with a magazine. Elaine wasn’t sure if Grandma had actually been reading or just looking at the pictures, but at least she seemed content. So far today, she hadn’t accused Elaine of taking or hiding any of her things.

Deciding to take a few extra minutes to enjoy the fresh fall air, Elaine stood in the yard and took it all in. Fallen leaves lay scattered about, and she caught sight of a squirrel taking its share of the seeds that had dropped on the ground under one of the feeders.

Suddenly, the loft doors of the barn opened. Grandma, sitting in the hay on the second story, smiled down at Elaine in the yard.

“Look at me!” Grandma called, waving her hands. “I’m a bird, high up in a nest.”

Elaine’s heart pounded. “Grandma, stay right there. Don’t move!” She ran into the barn and hurried up the ladder to the loft. “What are you doing up here?” she asked, taking a seat beside Grandma.

“I was looking at Millie and saw that she couldn’t fly, so I brought her up here to the loft.”

It was then that she noticed Grandma was holding the parakeet rock Elaine had painted for her. She cringed. Even though Grandma had never mentioned that her parakeet had flown out of the house, never to return, here she was now, convinced that the parakeet on the rock was real. If that wasn’t bad enough, poor Grandma thought the bird would be able to fly.
Should I tell her that Millie got attacked by one of the cats? No, that would probably upset her too much
.

She patted Grandma’s hand ever so gently. “You know, sitting up here like this brings back memories from a time long ago when I used to climb into the loft and pretend I was a bird.”

Grandma sat without saying a word. Then she looked over at Elaine and grinned. “I remember when you did that. Used to scare me half to death seeing you way up so high, but your grandpa said I shouldn’t worry so much and that every child had the right to pretend and explore.” She chuckled. “Of course, you didn’t know it, but he kept a close watch to make sure you were safe.”

Elaine smiled. “And I remember how he’d sometimes climb the ladder and sit beside me. We’d watch the birds in the yard below as they flew back and forth between the trees.”

They sat quietly for a while, and then Elaine managed to take the rock from Grandma and coax her back down the ladder, coming down each rung behind her. When they reached the bottom, Elaine paused to thank God for keeping Grandma safe and for giving them those few moments when Grandma could remember a special time from the past. Elaine could only hope there would be more days like this. Oh, how she longed for things to be as they once were, with her and Grandma simply enjoying each other’s company, without any worries about the horrible disease that was taking Grandma from her.

Sara fiddled with the ties on her head covering as she waited for Jonah to arrive. He’d invited her and Mark to go out for supper with him again, but Mark had the tail end of a cold, so Sara thought it would be better to fix supper here, rather than taking her son out on this chilly November evening. Besides, it would be easier to talk to Jonah here than in a restaurant, where others might hear what she had to say.

It had been two weeks since Sara received her MS diagnosis, and she’d finally made a decision. She was going to put her house up for sale and move home to live with her folks. It had been a difficult decision, but she felt it was the best thing for both her and Mark. She really had little choice. Sara had also decided not to do anything with the barn, although she had asked some of the men from her district to haul the remains of it away. Maybe whoever bought her place could build a barn of his choosing. She planned to go to her folks’ for Thanksgiving, at which time she would tell them about her MS and ask if she and Mark could move in with them.

Sara went to check on the roast she had cooking in the oven. The potatoes and carrots surrounding the meat poked tender, and the thermometer showed that the roast was done. She turned down the temperature, closed the oven door, and went to the counter to slice some pickled beets. In addition to the meat and vegetables, she’d also made coleslaw, mixing mayonnaise and vinegar into the shredded cabbage, just like her mother always did. Some people preferred a sweeter-tasting coleslaw, to which a bit of sugar had been added, but she’d always liked it on the tangy side. She hoped Jonah would enjoy it that way, too.

Certain that everything was ready to be put on the table once Jonah arrived, Sara went to the living room to check on Mark. She’d left him happily sitting on the floor with the wooden horse Jonah had made.

When Sara entered the room, Mark looked up at her and grinned.
“Scheme gaul,”
he said, pointing to the horse that had been painted brown with a white patch on its head.

Sara nodded. “Jah, Mark. It’s a pretty horse.”

Jonah had already won her son’s heart. Not just with the little gifts he often brought Mark, but with the attention and quality time he gave the boy. That would be something she’d be taking from Mark if she moved back with her parents, although she was sure that Dad, busy as he was, would show Mark some attention. Still, it wouldn’t be the same as time spent with Jonah, for Mark had bonded with him in a special way.
It’s almost like how Mark would have been with his dad if he were still alive
. Sara reached out to touch her son’s soft cheeks. Remembering how tender the scene had been when Jonah had tucked Mark into bed one night, she grieved to realize there would never be a man in Mark’s life whom he could call
Daadi
.

“Come on now, Sassy, let’s get a move on it,” Jonah called to his horse, snapping the reins. “I’m gettin’ hungry, and I don’t want to be late for supper.”

Jonah had to admit it was more than appeasing his hunger that made him anxious to get to Sara’s house this evening. He looked forward to visiting with Sara again and, most of all, spending time with Mark. It was hard not to spoil the little guy, but Jonah figured he could get away with it, since he wasn’t the boy’s father.

But I wish I was
, Jonah admitted to himself as he approached Sara’s driveway.
I’d give anything to have a son like Mark—to love and cherish, and to have carry on my name
. Once again, his thoughts turned to Elaine.
If only she hadn’t shut me out. I really believed she was the woman for me. Could I have been that wrong?

Pulling up to the hitching rack, Jonah stepped out of his buggy and secured his horse.
I need to quit thinking about Elaine and enjoy this evening with Sara and Mark
.

Stepping onto the porch, he knocked on the door, glancing over at the burned-out barn and wondering if Sara ever planned to see about having a new one built. It seemed odd that she’d let it go this long, but perhaps she had her reasons.

Sara answered the door, wearing a dark blue dress with matching apron and cape. She smiled, but there was no sparkle in her eyes.

“Is everything all right?” Jonah asked, feeling concern. “You look mied.”

She released a ragged sigh and pushed a wayward lock of hair back under her head covering. “I guess I am a bit tired tonight.”

“If having me here for supper is too much, then I can come some other time,” he was quick to say.

Sara shook her head. “I’m not that tired. Besides, I made too much food for me and Mark to eat by ourselves. And Mark would be very disappointed if he didn’t get to see you this evening. I told him you were coming, and he’s been saying your name over and over all day.” Sara laughed. “Onah. That’s what he says instead of Jonah.”

Jonah grinned as he walked into the house. “For a little guy who’s not even three yet, even saying ‘Onah’ seems pretty smart to me. A lot of kinner his age don’t say near as many words as Mark does already.”

“That’s true. He can be quite the little chatterbox at times.” Sara motioned to the living room. “Mark’s in there, if you’d like to keep him entertained while I put supper on the dining-room table.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jonah asked.

Sara shook her head once more. “I think I can manage on my own, but danki for asking.”

“Okay. Call me if you need anything, though.”

When Jonah entered the living room, he found Mark sitting on a braided rug in the middle of the floor with some wooden blocks, which he’d placed in a large square. The wooden horse Jonah had given him was inside the square. As soon as Mark saw Jonah, he held out his hands and shouted, “Onah!”

Jonah knelt on the floor beside Mark, and the little boy crawled right into his lap. “
Der gaul is darichgange
.”

“Jah, that’s right,” Jonah said, laughing. “The horse ran away.” Then he picked up the horse and made it prance around the wooden-block corral, smiling as Mark laughed and clapped his hands.

A short time later, Sara entered the room and announced that supper was ready. Jonah stood and, lifting Mark onto his shoulders, followed Sara into the dining room.

“Yum…something sure smells good in here.” Jonah surveyed the food she had set on the table before placing Mark in his high chair. “Makes my mouth water just looking at all that food.”

“Well, I hope it tastes as good as it looks.” Sara motioned for Jonah to take his seat. Then they bowed their heads for silent prayer. When the prayer was over, Sara passed the platter of roast beef to Jonah, followed by the potatoes, carrots, and other items she’d set on the table. Then she gave Mark what she knew he would eat.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Jonah asked, gesturing to Sara’s empty plate.

Her cheeks colored. “Oh, jah, of course.”

“This is a great meal, Sara. The meat is so tender, and I like how you cooked the vegetables with the beef. That’s how my mamm’s always made it, too.”

“Danki, Jonah.” Sara’s cheeks darkened further.

After Sara dished up some food for herself, they ate their meal and visited. Every once in a while, Mark looked over at Jonah and said, “Onah.”

Jonah had to admit it felt pretty good sitting here with Sara and Mark, enjoying some of her delicious cooking. It almost seemed as if they were a family.
But of course
, he reminded himself,
Sara’s not my wife and Mark’s not my son
.

“I’ve been wondering what you plan to do about your barn,” Jonah said. “Are you going to have a barn-raising before winter sets in, or wait till spring?”

“I won’t be putting up a new barn,” Sara said with a shake of her head. “You may have noticed when you arrived that I had the remains of the old barn hauled away.”

“What about your horse? Won’t she need a warm, dry place this winter?”

“She’s doing well in a three-sided lean-to, so I think she’ll be fine for now.”

“Oh, I see.” Jonah could hardly believe that Sara wouldn’t want a new barn to replace the one that had been burned or provide a warmer place for her horse, but it was her decision.

They visited about other things, and by the time they’d finished dinner and enjoyed apple pie and coffee for dessert, Jonah was full to the point of being drowsy. In an effort to keep awake, he pushed away from the table and began clearing the dishes.

BOOK: The Decision
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