Winter’s Awakening (8 page)

Curving her arms protectively around her stomach, Lilly said, “Don’t worry. I won’t be. Not any time soon.”

But she sure wouldn’t mind a friend. That, she could use. Of course Lilly had an idea that a guy like Joshua Graber would never be friends with a girl who got pregnant out of wedlock. No, if he knew the truth about her, why, he probably would never have said a word to her.

Picking up the grocery sack that Charlie had forgotten, she slowly made her way into the house, being careful not to slip on a patch of ice. How much her life had changed. Sometimes she couldn’t help but long for the days when she was just plain old Lilly Allen, no secrets to shame her.

The afternoon before, Gretta had done her best to brush aside the questions her mother tossed her way about why Roland had brought her home. It had almost been easy because things were so out of sorts at their house.

Margaret was home with a fever. Because of that, their mother had left the quilt shop early in order to tend to her needs. But her mother still had sewing to do. She’d promised a customer that she’d piece together a miniature star quilt by the next day.

As soon as Gretta walked inside, she’d been asked to make dinner. All afternoon her mother had been running back and forth from Margaret’s room to the kitchen table, doing her best to tend to Margaret and piece together the bright yellow, orange, blue, and red triangles of cloth.

To help out, Gretta had made chicken and dumplings, served it to her parents when it was ready, then
washed all the dishes and wiped down the table while her mother went back to her project and her father went outside to shovel snow.

Later, she’d had to attend to her usual chore of laundry.

All the activity had been a blessing. Her mother had been too busy taking care of her sister and sewing to do much more than ask Gretta a few questions about Joshua’s sudden absence from their door. Gretta had been able to produce a few vague answers to the whole question of Roland.

Today she wasn’t faring so well. Margaret was back at school, her father was at work, and neither she nor her mother had work scheduled. They’d been alone together for most of the day.

It had felt endless.

“So why is it again that Roland came to be dropping you home, Gretta? I still don’t understand why he offered such a thing,” her mother asked as together they oiled the kitchen cabinets with thick rags.

Though they’d already discussed this, and Gretta was feeling frustrated with her mother’s constant questioning, Gretta took care to keep her voice slow and even. “He came to the restaurant and asked,” she said simply. “Since it was snowing, I accepted.”

“You make this development sound easy and spontaneous, but I’m afraid it’s not. This Roland coming by means something, I fear.”

“I don’t think it’s something to fear, Mamm. It was only a buggy ride home.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” After dabbing another amount of oil on her cloth, her
mamm
leveled another probing glance her way. “Now, tell me about Joshua. Why hasn’t he come calling?”

“He took me skating two weeks ago.”

“But nothing since. That’s not like him.” She rubbed hard at a scuff mark on the bottom of a cabinet. “What happened, do you think?”

Well, that was an easy thing to tell the truth about—even if it was embarrassing. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do. Please talk to me, daughter.”

Oh, her mother had an iron will! Gretta felt like she could no more escape her mother’s questions than she could leave the house with her hair down around her back. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Gretta, until recently, things were much different between you and Joshua. He was attentive and you seemed happier. Now you seem sad and Joshua hasn’t stopped by. Most certainly nothing is going right. What has happened?”

“Things…things have changed between us.”

“Changed? How? What did you do?”

Gretta closed her eyes, miserable. In her heart, she knew that her mother didn’t mean to sound so harsh, so judgmental. But that’s how her words felt. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Were you not respectful and thoughtful?”

“I was.”

She paused. “Perhaps you haven’t spent enough time
with his family. An Amish man likes to know that his wife will get along well with his family.”

Honestly, her mother was acting as if the Grabers were practically strangers, not folks who they’d known all their lives. “I don’t think our differences had anything to do with my lack of time with his family.”

With a little moan, her mother stood straight and rubbed her back. “Bending over to polish the wood seems to get harder every year.” After she massaged the small of her back, her mother brightened. “I know! Perhaps you could make him a pie. We know how Joshua does have a sweet tooth.”

Remembering how strained their conversation had been the last time he’d come over, Gretta shook her head. “Pie won’t help.”

“Then what will? You need to do something to get back Joshua’s regard.”

“He wants to take a break, and only time will help with that.” Desperate to move the subject to something more positive, Gretta said, “Why are you upset with Roland bringing me home, anyway? Do you not think much of Roland? I thought you enjoyed his mother’s company.”

Outside the kitchen door, Gretta heard her father’s low, musical voice as he talked to Stormy, their horse. In no time, he’d be walking into the house.

For a moment, Gretta glanced her mother’s way, sure and hopeful that she’d leave their discussion for another time and go see to her husband’s needs.

But this time, she did not. This time, she kept talking, just as if Gretta wasn’t miserable enough and if her father wasn’t just on the other side of the door.

“His mother is a
gut
friend, that is true. But I don’t think he is your chosen man. Tell me what you and Joshua have been talking about. We need to decide what went wrong and what you can do to catch his attention.”

Oh, but her mother would have made a terribly good police officer…she certainly knew how to obtain a confession! Already exhausted with the questions, trying to keep her mother at arm’s length, Gretta gave in. “We talked the other day and decided that perhaps we’d been too hasty with our courting.”

“Too hasty? You’ve known him for years. That doesn’t make a bit of sense to me.”

“I know it doesn’t.” Oh, but her mother never knew when to be quiet. She’d never seen the need to keep her opinions to herself. It was both a pleasing quality of hers and a frustrating one. Gretta had a feeling her father had felt frustrated quite often, too.

“Daughter, explain things now.”

“There’s nothing to explain to you,” Gretta snapped, her patience at an end. “I know you want me to be happy with Joshua, but he and I may not be happy together, after all.”

“Then you should—”

“No. Don’t tell me what you think I should do about Joshua and me. It is not any of your concern.”

Face florid, her mother stood up just as her father en
tered the room, his expression alarmed. “Of course it is,” her mother said matter-of-factly. “You’re my daughter. I have every right to know what you and Joshua say to each other.”

“No, you don’t. It’s my life. I have a right to make my way. I have a right to make decisions about it.”

“Not if you make a mess of it.”

“You can’t know that is what I’m doing.”

True anger flashed in mother’s eyes. “I’ve never been more disappointed in you, Gretta. I promise, if you continue with that disrespectful tone—”

Her father finally entered the argument. “Katherine, you must stop this now.”

Shock flew in waves as his words reverberated through the room. Never before had she heard her father speak that way to her mother. Never before had he interfered with one of mother’s lectures.

Face slack, she turned to her husband. “Ben?”

His voice softer, but no less stern, he said, “I’ve heard enough of your speaking so harshly to our Gretta.” After a pause he added, “Perhaps you should go collect yourself.”

Though her mother said nothing more, her displeasure was evident in every step out of the room.

Gretta held her breath as her father took one of the kitchen chairs, gesturing for her to take one, too. When she obediently sat, she waited expectantly. What was he going to say? Would he, too, chide her for not procuring Joshua’s marriage proposal?

“I heard much of what your mother and you said,”
he finally murmured after examining her for a good long moment. “Your mother and I want the same thing, daughter. We both want you to be happy.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m tellin’ the truth, I promise.”

“Daed, you heard what she said.”

“I did.” His eyes so patient and kind, he continued. “She thinks you and Joshua are meant to be together, that’s all.”

“What do you think?” she asked slowly.

“I just want you to be happy. That’s all.” Ever so slowly, he held his arms to her.

Almost as slowly, she stepped forward and hugged him. Oh, but her
daed
was so solid, and so strong. Always his arms had felt stronger than anyone else’s. Always he’d seemed taller and better than anyone else.

Though he and her mother had had their share of troubles, she still needed his support. Tears escaped and fell to his shirt as she closed her eyes and let herself just feel. And be loved. “I’m sorry,” she said, though she wasn’t sure what she was sorry for…
the words to her mother? The fact that Joshua wanted more time?

The fact that she wasn’t—and never could be—as good as her sister Beth?

“I’m sorry I didn’t mind my tongue better.”

“It will be all right, daughter,” he murmured. “You’ll see. Our Lord God works in mysterious ways, there’s no doubt of that. One day we’ll wake up and realize everything has been taken care of.”

Gretta did believe that the Lord would help her, but
she also feared she’d not been understanding some of the things He’d been wanting her to.

All her plans felt hard to catch, like they were flying away, and too small and fragile to grab ahold of. “But I don’t know what to do, Daed.”

After another squeeze, he stepped back from her and, like when she was a child, ran one rough finger under her eye, taking her tears with it
“Sur gut, jah?”

Instead of feeling reassured, she only felt more confused by his words. “Why is it good?”

“Because only our Lord knows what to do. We just have to listen.”

Warily, she looked toward the basement door, where she heard her mother bustling about doing the laundry. Oh, but her mother was in a state. When the loud thud of water hitting the wash bin wafted up the stairs, she bit her lip. “I don’t know what to say to Mamm.”

To Gretta’s surprise, instead of looking angry her father chuckled. “She’s in a temper, but she’ll calm down soon enough.” He waved a hand. “Go on, now. You tell her that you’ll help with dinner, just like always. That’s enough.”

Feeling like she was on her way to the gallows, Gretta stepped toward the staircase and did as she was bid. No, she didn’t know what things the future had in store for her.

But she did know some things. No matter what tomorrow brought, today she needed to be a good daughter. And that involved saying she was sorry to her mother and asking how she could help.

It was what was expected of a good Amish daughter. And that was something she would always try to be.

“So, Joshua, perhaps you could talk to us all about your new friendship with the
Englischer
next door.” Elsa Graber announced at dinner on Thursday evening. “It seems to me that perhaps there is more to your friendship with the girl than I realized.”

In unison, all seven of the kids set their knives and forks down. At the head of the wide oak table, their father paused in mid-chew. Though their mother’s tone and language was calm, there was an unmistakable note of force in it. She most certainly did not bring up the topic by chance. She wanted some information, and wanted it sooner than later.

Peeking to his right, Josh caught Caleb’s eye. Perhaps something had occurred to bring such an announcement on that he didn’t know about. Maybe Caleb had stayed out too late the evening before? His brother was surely enjoying his
rumspringa
. Sometimes a mite too much, Joshua felt.

But if Caleb knew, he wasn’t telling. He simply looked right back at him and shrugged.

After another moment of surprised silence, their father spoke. “What is worrying you, Elsa?”

Carefully arranging her silverware on her plate, she shrugged. “I’m not worried…I’m merely interested in Joshua’s life. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

While Judith coughed into her napkin, Carrie, Anson,
and Caleb studiously began eating again. Everyone knew from experience that once their mother was determined to find out something, nothing was going to sway her.

“What did you want to know about me and Lilly, Mamm?”

For a moment, she looked taken aback by his direct question. Then she sat up a bit straighter. “For one thing, I’m curious as to why you’re going riding around with Lilly and her brother now.”

“It was snowing outside, Mamm. The only reason I got home at all was because Charlie and Lilly Allen gave me a ride.” Unbidden, he felt his cheeks heat up. He was starting to feel like Anson. All of nine and under constant surveillance.

“It was snowing something awful,” Judith agreed. “It took Daed and I twice as long as usual to get here.”

“I bet it was mighty nice, riding in a truck like that.” Caleb shook his head in regret. “I knew I should’ve stayed longer at the store. Then I could’ve ridden with the Allens in the truck.”

“I had a feeling you were gonna say that,” Joshua said. “Charlie mentioned he’d be happy to take you for a ride whenever you wanted one.”

Pure glee entered his brother’s features. “I’ll be wantin’ one soon.”

Farther down the long bench, Anson piped up. “I want to see it, too.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Well, we know that ain’t gonna happen. You’re way too small.”

“It might. I’m friends with Ty Allen. I am.”

“I’m sure you are but that don’t mean much,” Caleb chided.

Deliberately, their mother cleared her throat. “I don’t think we need to worry about the Allens’ truck anymore. It’s not likely any of you will be going for rides in it.”

“Why not?” Caleb asked. “We went in the Wilson’s car from time to time.”

“It was different, accepting rides from the Wilsons. They did not have children your age.”

“But I like Ty,” whined Anson. “What’s wrong with him, Mamm?”

“Not a thing. It’s just that they’re English.”

“I know that.” Pushing his plate away, Anson looked like he might cry. “I know Ty’s English. But I still like him.”

“I know you do. And I’m glad you and Ty Allen get along, but we mustn’t become too close,” their mother warned. Measuring each of them a stern look, she added, “We just have to be careful that we don’t let our feelings run out of control.”