When Strawberries Bloom (21 page)

There was hardly an end to the rich desserts and drinks Mam would cook and bake for weeks before Christmas. She made butterscotch pie, chocolate pie, sand tarts, Grandpa cookies, Christmas layer salad, banana pudding, and Christmas cake. Mam mixed ginger ale with grape juice, or she bought soda—Mountain Dew, Pepsi, or root beer—and vanilla ice cream to make root beer floats. Which, Lizzie discovered as a child, you should never eat with olives.

Sometime Mam roasted a turkey for Christmas, and other years she baked a ham. She would always arrange pineapple rings on the ham and baste it with a bit of the juice while it baked.

The best part of Christmas dinner was the Ohio filling. It came out of the oven moist and steaming with a golden brown crust on top. The crust was the best. It tasted like toast with too much butter, Lizzie thought. Mam’s version was from her native Holmes County, Ohio, and included potatoes, carrots, and celery chopped into tiny pieces, cubed bread, chicken, and chicken broth. It was so good. There was no other way to describe it except to say it was almost the best thing about Christmas food.

Mam made all kinds of cookies and candy, too. Rice Krispie treats and chocolate-coated peanut butter crackers were Lizzie’s favorites.

Lizzie and Mandy always worked very hard to clean the entire house for Christmas, while Mam baked and cooked in the kitchen. They didn’t decorate the house because that would be too worldly. Sometimes Mam allowed a few red candles on the windowsill or a candle set in the middle of the table.

Amish people did not believe in Christmas trees. Lizzie always wanted one though. Her favorite argument was that Laura Ingalls had one, decorated with popcorn and cranberries. Mam said Laura was English, but Lizzie said she wore longer dresses than her own. Mam said they were still English, and her nostrils flared a bit, and Lizzie knew it was time to stop pressing Mam on the Christmas tree issue. Christmas trees were fancy and not in the Amish
ordnung
.

At Christmas the festivities also extended to the youth gatherings, especially the large Christmas hymn-singing that all of the parents were also urged to attend. It was just a special time, where all the voices blended together as the group sang old German favorites.

They often sang the verses in German and the chorus in English of songs such as “Joy to the World” and “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.” Lizzie’s favorite was “
Stille Nacht
” or “Silent Night” in German.

Dat loved singing, and especially at Christmas-time he was in his element, sitting in the middle of the room at the singing, leading many of the songs with his beautiful voice. He knew all the words to all of the songs. Lizzie was secretly proud of Dat because she knew that when he started a song, the singing would become especially rousing. Dat was probably the community’s best voice.

Two days before Christmas, Lizzie and Mandy were wrapping their Christmas presents for John and Stephen. Picking out a gift for a boy was a new experience for Lizzie, and one she was decidedly not comfortable with. Mandy teased her mercilessly, which was quite funny for awhile, but now Lizzie didn’t think it was so humorous anymore.

She dreaded exchanging gifts with Stephen because she was worried about how to act properly and politely. She just didn’t know how and when to say the right thing.

What if she didn’t like what Stephen gave her? Of course, she would fuss over it and tell him it was beautiful even if it wasn’t. But Mandy laughed when Lizzie told her how she would react, being calm and polite no matter what she received.

“Your face is a dead giveaway,” Mandy said. “You can’t hide your true feelings.”

“That’s not true!”

“You’ll say, ‘Oh, how lovely!’ and promptly burst into so many tears that you’ll need a whole box of Kleenexes to keep blowing your nose,” Mandy continued, clinging to the pillow that landed in her face.

Lizzie flipped back her long, brown hair, which was still wet from the shower, and scowled at Mandy.

“So. You weren’t exactly thrilled with that cheap picture John gave you for your birthday,” she said.

“I was! Where did you get that idea? Huh? He gave me my water set, too, not just the picture.”

Mandy got up from her perch on the bed and ran a towel across her wet hair.

“You’re just jealous,” she said.

Lizzie shook her head vehemently. “Oh, no. Huh-uh. I wouldn’t want a water set. I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

“Then why are you dating Stephen?”

“ ’Cause I like him. He’s fun to be with.

“Is that all?”

“Well, for now.”

Mandy sat back down on the bed and straightened the gold bow she had tied around John’s gift. The enormous box was wrapped in a dull red paper and done up with a gold bow, which looked very masculine. It was the perfect paper for a young man’s present, Lizzie thought. She and Mandy had bought the same thing for their boyfriends, a small shaving cabinet with sliding glass doors and a wooden towel rack. They were very popular among the girls’ friends and considered the perfect expensive Christmas gift to give to their boyfriends.

Lizzie’s package for Stephen was wrapped in forest green paper. She was very happy with it, except she secretly thought the red looked more Christmasy. She would never admit this to Mandy, who was already too smug and self-assured about that package of hers.

“So, Mandy, you give John his gift Saturday evening, and I will give Stephen his Sunday evening, okay? Because you most definitely are not going to watch us exchange gifts or hear us or anything.”

Mandy laughed easily. “Oh, relax. We’re going to be down at the farm with his brother.”

“Over the entire holiday?”

“No, of course not. John says he has something special to tell me or show me. I’m not sure what he meant.”

“He’s going to ask you to marry him!” Lizzie said loudly.

“Hush, Lizzie! You’ll wake the twins! No, he’s not. I’m not even near old enough and haven’t joined the church yet.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.”

They sat and talked awhile longer as the snow pinged against the windows and the soft hiss of the kerosene lamp made everything seem homey and cozy. They talked about Dat and how they hardly ever noticed there was anything different about him since his diagnosis. It always made them sad to think of Dat’s disease, but since Mam was so upbeat, encouraging Dat to keep doing all the things he was used to doing, it helped the girls to see that it really wasn’t so terrible to have multiple sclerosis.

“Not yet, Lizzie,” Mandy said wisely, shaking her head slowly. “But sometime it will be.”

“I know,” Lizzie said soberly.

They sat in comfortable silence, Mandy with her chin on her knees, her arms wrapped around her legs. Lizzie plumped the pillows and flopped back, crossing her hands behind her head.

“So, what do you say when you give your boyfriend his present? Just, ‘Here,’ or ‘Do you want this?’ or ‘Open this,’ or what?” Lizzie asked.

Mandy rolled over and collapsed in a fit of laughter. She laughed until she could hardly get her breath, gasping and wheezing as she slapped at Lizzie.

Lizzie laughed with her, but only because she always had to laugh when Mandy did—that’s just how it was.

Wiping her eyes, Mandy said, “Yes, Lizzie, just hold out the box and say, ‘Here!’  ”

“You’re a big help!” Lizzie said, pushing Mandy off the bed where she collapsed into another fit of giggles on the rug.

“Are you really so nervous about giving Stephen that gift?” she asked, sitting up and watching Lizzie incredulously.

“Of course I am! I never had a boyfriend before,” Lizzie said.

“Don’t worry about it. You know how Mam says, ‘Everything will work out.’ You and Stephen are so relaxed and comfortable together, I can’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

Quite honestly, Lizzie was uncomfortable with formalities, even ordinary everyday little ways of being nice and polite and knowing exactly what to say at the exact right moment. Oh, she could talk to English people, go shopping, pay drivers, and get along all right in the world, but receiving a gift from someone or acknowledging a compliment always made her feel completely at a loss about how to act.

So when Stephen and Lizzie drove home that Sunday evening after the hymn-singing, she was in a state of panic. Stephen talked easily while she chewed desperately on one fingernail after another, nodding her head or saying, “Mmm-hmm.”

Suddenly Stephen reached over and took her hand away from her mouth. “Quit that. Either you’re really hungry, or you haven’t clipped your fingernails in a long time.”

Lizzie laughed but didn’t say anything.

When they reached her home, Stephen unhitched his horse and went around to the back of the buggy. Lifting the back door, he extracted a box which was so beautifully wrapped that, even in the dim light of the forebay, it looked so expensive it took her breath away. Oh, she wondered, what was inside?

She looked at Stephen questioningly, but he didn’t notice or pretended not to. Without saying a word, he started toward the house. There was nothing for Lizzie to do but follow him, and since he wasn’t saying anything, she guessed she may as well remain silent as well.

Stephen said he wasn’t hungry, so Lizzie asked if he wanted to exchange gifts first.

“Let’s do,” he said.

Sitting in the living room in the quiet house lit with the soft yellow lamplight, she took the package he handed to her as naturally as breathing, and about as uncomplicated. After putting aside the huge foil bow, she tore off the paper and found a golden glass object wrapped in white tissue paper.

She was puzzled, unable to think of anything shaped like that. The glass, a translucent golden color, had a bumpy design in it, almost like little bumps with lines between them.

Unwrapping it carefully, she held it up to the light.

“A shade! A glass shade!” she exclaimed. Quickly she dug into the tissue paper again and came up with a huge, intricately designed kerosene lamp with a clear glass chimney and a bracket to hold the big, beautiful shade.

Lizzie was so pleased she couldn’t find words to express herself. John had given Mandy a blue one exactly like this, but Lizzie just figured she would never have one of her own because John came from Lamont, where everyone knew the latest style in gifts and things like that. She had tried hard to admire Mandy’s beautiful lamp, even though she was thinking how perfect a gold one would be in her own room. And now she owned one!

She didn’t struggle with what to say. She was too delighted about owning that perfect lamp.

“Thank you, Stephen,” she said sincerely, her whole heart meaning the words. “I just love it.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

“Oh, I almost forgot yours!”

She handed him the large package, watching eagerly as he ripped off the bow without bothering to save it, just like boys always did when they opened gifts, Lizzie thought. He tore open the box and smiled quietly when he saw the golden oak wood of the shaving cabinet.

“Just what I need,” he said.

“Really?” Lizzie asked breathlessly.

“Yes. I do need this to keep small things in my room. It’s beautiful oak wood, too.”

“You really like it?”

“Of course I do.”

Lizzie sighed happily, and Stephen handed her a large white envelope.

“Your card.”

“Oh, oh, yes, of course. I put my card for you inside the shaving cabinet.”

Separately they opened the cards and read the words. Lizzie had agonized for a great length of time at the card shop in town, trying to find a Christmas card with the perfect words.

Should her card say “To the One I Love,” or should it say “To a Dear Friend”? If she got the first card, it would tell him she loved him, and that would be dumb because she had never told him that. Not yet. If she gave him the one that said “To a Dear Friend,” it sounded like a card she would give to Mary Ann or Rebecca or just any ordinary girlfriend.

And Stephen was definitely more than that. But to say “I Love You” on a Christmas card was a little too bold, she thought. She had finally settled on a card that said “For a Special Friend,” which really was a nice safe card that didn’t seem as if it was meant for the mailman or the milk-truck driver or Charlie Zimmerman.

She opened the large white envelope Stephen handed her and stifled a gasp when she saw the words, “To the One I Love at Christmas,” in large beautifully written words across the entire face of the card. The inside had soft paper, almost like tissue paper, folded along both sides, and Stephen had written beautiful words about how his life had changed since they had started dating and how much she meant to him, especially at Christmastime.

Below it he had written, “I Love You, Stephen.”

Lizzie remained seated, reading the card a lot longer than was absolutely necessary, simply because she didn’t know what else to do. She was afraid to look at Stephen, and horribly embarrassed at having chosen that simple friendship card. Color crept into her cheeks as she watched him close the card and return it to the envelope with a soft sigh.

“Stephen, I … I …” she stammered.

He turned to look at her, and she met his gaze for only a moment before dropping her eyes in bewilderment.

“It’s okay, Lizzie. It really is. I’m just glad you consider me your special friend.”

She laughed softly. “Well, if you must know, I spent some agonizing moments at the card shop, trying to figure out which card was appropriate. And now your card says so much more than mine. It’s just that, well, sometimes I think I must be the only person in the whole world who doesn’t really understand … understand … well, what I mean, I mean … what l … what love is.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as Lizzie sat miserably twisting the hem of her apron in both hands. Just say something, Stephen, anything, she thought.

But he didn’t. He sighed again and stood up abruptly, gathering the wrapping paper that was strewn across the sofa.

“I’m hungry,” he announced. “Let’s go have our snack.”

In the kitchen, the mood was dispelled, the atmosphere lighter, and Stephen bantered lightheartedly, as usual, while they ate the Christmas cookies and drank hot peppermint tea. After he left, Lizzie put the mugs in the sink, absentmindedly letting the flow of warm water splash on the back of her hand, her thoughts ebbing and flowing.