A Wedding for Julia (23 page)

Caleb chuckled, realizing their conversation might sound somewhat odd to his cousin.

“Ada’s an expert on the Psalms, Sharon.” As far as he could tell, the girl still hadn’t spoken, but he continued as if she had. “I’ve learned quite a lot about the psalmists’ writing in the two months since Julia and I began courting.”

“You only courted two months?”

So she could speak.

“Actually it hasn’t quite been two months,” Julia murmured.

“No?”

“Just over six weeks.”

“You don’t say?” Caleb directed the buggy past the new sign, down their lane, and stopped in front of the house to let the women out.

“Six weeks.” He glanced back and saw his young cousin staring at them in surprise. “I guess you’re right. Sharon, I’ll fetch your bag. You all get out here so Ada doesn’t have to walk through the wind.”

After setting the bag inside the front door, Caleb returned to the buggy and drove it to the barn. He couldn’t help smiling over the expression on Sharon’s face. Apparently, she hadn’t realized the café was in their home. She’d stood in the entryway, staring left and right, as Ada had thumped past her with her cane—mumbling more verses from the Bible and declaring it a good evening for Julia’s thick potato soup.

Chapter 19

S
haron gawked at the room where she was supposed to sleep. Sharing a
room
with Ada was one thing. Sharing a
bed
was a different thing altogether.

“I’m sorry, Sharon.” Julia stepped forward and opened an empty dresser drawer. “I wish we had better arrangements, but Caleb assured me this would be fine—and anyway, it’s all we have.”

Even at home she’d had her own bed in the room she’d shared with Ruthie. How was she to sleep in a double bed with an old woman? Ada wasn’t just old; she was ancient. She looked as if she might die at any moment. What if she died while Sharon was asleep in the bed?

Sharon stood as if frozen at the entrance to the room, unable to move forward.

“The bathroom is down the hall, and there’s another half bath downstairs. The room before mine is where we’ve set up our sitting area, for reading and such.” Julia turned around and clasped her hands in front of her.

Sharon almost felt sorry for her cousin’s wife. Almost. But she didn’t. If Julia and Caleb had said she couldn’t visit, she would still be in Monroe, Indiana, tonight. If they had said no, she wouldn’t be sharing a bed with an old woman she didn’t even know.

“I should go down and see to that soup. We’ll eat in fifteen minutes.” Julia walked past her and paused outside the door. “If there’s anything you need, I hope you’ll ask. We want to do whatever we can to make your stay with us easier.”

Sharon had to look away then, ashamed of her anger and her bitterness. She wasn’t that person, but who was she? The silence had become a humming in her head, and some days it was all she could do to hear others over it, to even speak at all.

“
Danki
,” she whispered.

“
Gem gschehne
.” The words were passed as delicately as a dozen fresh eggs, and then Julia was gone.

Sharon walked into the room and sat on her side of the bed. The room was Plain, like her room back home. There was the single dresser, with the one emptied drawer. Six hooks had been installed on the wall next to the dresser. Someone had cleared off three of the hooks so she would have a place to hang her clothes. The only other furniture was a nightstand near Ada’s side of the bed and one straight-back chair.

Sharon’s side was across the room from the window. When she looked out, she could see the entire property, not that she cared to. It didn’t matter what was outside her window. All that mattered was that she find a way home.

How had she ended up here? How would she endure it? And how long would she be in exile? She didn’t even know these people!

It was obvious why Caleb had married Julia. She was a beautiful woman, even if she was older. Why the short courting period, though? And this house. It was huge, but they were forced to live in the upstairs rooms? None of it made any sense, which pretty much matched her life back home. All that had changed was the scene outside the window. She’d gone from a remote small town she was familiar with to a remote small town that was completely foreign.

Her mind flashed back to her dreams of the past summer—dreams of going to the city, of going away. Now all she wanted was to be back in Indiana.

She hated Wisconsin. She didn’t know a thing about it, and she didn’t want to learn.

What was with all the hills and forests? Why should she care?

She wanted to lie down on the bed and cover up her head, but it wasn’t hers to lie down on.

It was hers and Ada’s, and something told her the old woman wouldn’t approve of her slipping into bed before dinner.

So she hung her three dresses on the hooks someone had cleared for her, stored her under things in the dresser drawer Julia had left open, and trudged down the hall to the bathroom. There was a small mirror hanging above the sink, but she purposely avoided glancing into it.

Why look? What difference did it make?

Instead, she splashed a little water on her face, washed her hands, and dried off with the towel draped over the hook on the wall. Making her way down the stairs, she stopped in the front room, which was full of tables.

Where were they supposed to eat? There were three large tables and two small ones—none of which had dishes or food on them.

Then she heard the sound of voices.

Sharon stared down at the floor. She would have prayed for strength, but she didn’t believe God was listening. So instead she counted to ten, which was her new deal with herself. When she was overwhelmed and had to do something, she gave herself ten counts before she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. It wasn’t a great coping mechanism, but it was something. It was enough to get her feet moving toward Julia and Caleb and Ada.

“Sharon, you found us.” Julia stood at the kitchen counter, ladling soup into bowls.

The kitchen was not what she had expected. There was one traditional gas stove, much like what Sharon’s mother cooked on—except this one has six burners instead of four. Next to that was a double oven. She assumed it was gas as well because there was no electricity to the house. Julia and Caleb could have asked their bishop for an exemption. Plenty of home businesses in Indiana were granted one. She supposed, because they had opted to run the café inside their home rather than in an adjacent building, they had decided against it.

There were also two large refrigerators on the adjacent wall.

Julia caught her staring and explained, “Both are new and both are gas.”

“Can’t have my
fraa
running back and forth to the icehouse at the same time she’s cooking for customers.” Caleb laughed. “It must look pretty strange to you, but we decided to trust that the Lord will bring enough customers to pay for our investment.”

How much had they spent on this café, which had yet to open for business? On the far side of the kitchen was a smaller dining area, which was apparently where they were to take their meals.

Sharon sat down beside Ada. It seemed they were to be paired with each other. Caleb stood to help Julia with the tray of soup bowls. The tender look that passed between them hurt more than if Ada had picked up one of the butter knives and plunged it into Sharon’s ribs.

It wasn’t that it reminded her of James—not at all. It reminded her of what she no longer believed in.

Once Julia and Caleb sat, they all bowed their heads, but Sharon didn’t pray. She had stopped praying while she waited in the rain on that desolate Monroe county road. Praying was for people who still had some belief.

She waited.

When she heard movement, she looked up. Caleb was reaching for fresh cornbread, Julia was passing the butter, and Ada was smiling.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.”

At least that one made sense.

Ada dipped her spoon into her potato soup, swallowed, and nodded toward Julia. “My
dochder
is an excellent cook. By this time next week, her café will be full of
Englischers
asking for her recipes and promising to return with their
freinden
and family.”

“From your lips to
Gotte
’s ears,
mamm
.”

“
Ya
, already He has heard. Just make sure Caleb has brought up plenty of potatoes from the basement.”

“The potato bin is full. It was on Julia’s list, and so it’s done.” He stuffed cornbread in his mouth as he teased his wife.

Sharon pushed her spoon back and forth in her soup bowl. She’d found at home, at first, that no one noticed she wasn’t eating if she stirred her food or moved it around her plate. Somehow she thought that might be more difficult to get away with here with just the four of them sitting around a table.

“Is there something wrong with your bowl of soup?” Ada asked.

Sharon shook her head.

“Spoon broke?” Ada persisted.

“
Mamm
, maybe Sharon’s merely tired.”

“Too tired to eat? Humph. Food strengthens a body. Look at me.” Ada lifted both of her hands into the air. “Old maybe, but I’m as healthy as you and Caleb are!”

When no one challenged her statement, she added, “My hands might ache at times. I might even use that cane Doc insisted I bring home, but the rest of me—both inside and out—is still as healthy as ever.”

Somehow Sharon doubted that statement, but she wasn’t going to question it. Instead of looking directly at Ada, she stared down into her bowl. She was grateful Julia had let her off the hook, though she noticed Caleb was sending her worried glances.

She could have asked to be excused, could have probably gone to bed early, but she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than necessary. The last thing she needed was for her cousin to write home to her parents and say there had been a problem. In spite of the terrible scene at the bus station, she was hoping they would let her return soon.

So she waited out dinnertime as she pretended to nibble a piece of cornbread. The conversation hummed and buzzed around her. They spoke of details about what was left to do, talked of their neighbors’ help—some
Englischers
they had become close friends with—and discussed Aaron and Lydia, who were apparently expecting their first baby. The words flowed over and around her until finally Caleb stood and stretched.

“Suppose I’ll go and check on the animals one last time.”

“You’re not sneaking down to the river, are you?”

“In this weather?
Nein
.” He ran his hand down Julia’s arm.

Sharon noticed they did that—touched each other a lot. When they saw her watching, she glanced away.

“Come spring, you might be able to catch me sneaking out for an evening of fishing, but not tonight.” Caleb pulled his hat and coat from the peg in the mudroom, which was just a few feet from where they ate. “Be back soon.”

Julia began carrying dishes into the kitchen, and Ada stood as if she were going to help her. That was the first time Sharon really looked at her. She wore small glasses, and her blue eyes sparkled behind them. She seemed to have a clear mind at the moment, but Sharon had been certain while they were in the buggy that she’d been disoriented. Perhaps she became confused when she was away from home.