A Wedding for Julia (37 page)

“Sure. It might not last three hours like your Amish services, but I think it still counts.”

She smiled and stared down at the porch. His teasing helped. He didn’t treat her as if she were made of glass, as if she might break at any second. Standing there with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his words helped her to believe in herself and believe everything could be all right.

“Remember, you are the one who decides what happens next in your life.” His voice was softer now, nearly a caress.

When she remained silent, he pulled her arm away from her waist, ran his hand down the length of it and circled her wrist with his thumb and forefinger. She had lost so much weight since that night. She’d stopped checking her reflection in the mirror long ago, not wanting to see the dark circles and haunted eyes of the girl in the reflection.

“You also decide when it’s time to start taking care of yourself again, because what you put in your mouth goes a long way to deciding how you feel each day.” He kissed her once more, just a brush of his lips, before he turned and walked out into the night.

Chapter 30

J
ulia stood in Elizabeth Troyer’s kitchen, holding a plate of sliced ham and unsure what to do. The morning service had gone well, though there was an air of tenseness. She hadn’t been able to put her finger on what was wrong. She’d been focused on her mother, who wasn’t having her best day. Ada woke thinking she was back in Pennsylvania, and no amount of conversation could convince her otherwise.

It looked as if they would need to see Doc Hanson the next day. Julia’s heart twisted. Her mother had been doing so well, but now it was as if they had taken two giant steps backward. Maybe she should have picked up earlier on something being wrong. Perhaps Ada’s going to bed early the last few nights had been a sign. Julia had been too preoccupied with her own problems, her and Caleb’s relationship. She should have paid more attention to her mother.

At the end of the service, Bishop Atlee had asked for special prayers and support for Nathan Glick’s sister, Frannie. He didn’t say anything else. Julia knew the Drakes. She’d gone to church with Nathan and Susan all her life, though they were a good ten years older than her. She had never met Frannie, who now stood at the back of the kitchen crying.

“I’ll help you with that plate,” Elizabeth said. “Could you bring the macaroni casseroles out?”

They were eating outside again, which was odd for the first Sunday in November. The day had dawned unseasonably warm.

“Why is she crying?” Julia walked close and kept her voice low. She wasn’t gossiping. She was genuinely concerned.

“I guess you haven’t heard.”

“
Nein
.”

“Her husband left.”

“Left? Left where?”

“Just left. They live in the northern part of the state, and she’s been trying to make it on her own the last few months. Her district has been helping, but with the children it’s been hard. Last week she allowed the deed to their farm to default to the bank.”

They set the dishes on the picnic table and walked back to the kitchen.

“But her district would help with the payments.”

“Seems her husband didn’t tell anyone how far behind they were. Her bishop offered to hold an auction to help with expenses, but Frannie says she can’t run the farm alone. She has four children to raise, so they’ve come to stay with Nathan and Susan.”

Julia picked up a plate of cold chicken, and Elizabeth grabbed two baskets of rolls. They headed back outside again. Frannie was no longer in the kitchen. One of the other women said she was lying down in a back bedroom.

“Why did he leave?”

“She hasn’t said. Maybe financial pressure. Maybe something else.”

“He could come back.”

“It’s possible.” Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders.

Julia realized Elizabeth probably understood Frannie’s predicament better than most. She’d been a widow for two years now. Options for Amish widows were few. They could remarry or they could depend on the charity of the church. It was rare that they had the means to be financially independent. Frannie’s options would be even less. She would not be allowed to remarry.

The meal continued as normal, but everything seemed a little off to Julia. The women took turns sitting with Frannie. Lydia hadn’t attended church because the midwife had put her on bed rest. Aaron had come to church but left as soon as the service was over. The men continued to talk about the weather. Julia didn’t pay much attention to their conversation, though she heard “setting records,” “nineteen eleven,” and “extremes.”

Those things meant nothing to her. Perhaps they were worried about the livestock.

She needed to think about Ada, who was still somewhat dazed and was only picking at her food. How could she have gone downhill so quickly?

When she asked Caleb if they could go home early, he readily agreed. Sharon helped to gather their things, and Julia guided Ada to the buggy. But even as Red trotted down the two-lane road, her mind was traveling in circles—from Elizabeth to Frannie to her mother.

Why was life so difficult? She suddenly felt vulnerable, more than she ever had.

Glancing left, she peeked at Caleb. He was studying the road, probably still worried about the weather.

What would she do if he died? Wouldn’t she be in the same situation she’d been in before she married him? She’d be able to keep her home, but only if she could afford to pay the taxes and upkeep. And what if he left—not that he would do such a thing—but what if he did? How would she cope? She didn’t have a brother to live with. She didn’t want to go anywhere.

She remained distracted the rest of the day. If Caleb noticed, he didn’t say anything. Ada seemed to grow worse, her fever rising by the time they readied for bed.

“What do you think it is?” Sharon asked.

“I’m not sure. Would you mind sleeping on the couch in the sitting room? I’d like to stay in here with her.”

“I’ll sit up with her.” Sharon chewed on her thumbnail. They were both standing beside Ada’s bed. She was asleep, though her hand moved restlessly on top of the quilt.

“
Nein
. You rest, and if I need a break I’ll come and wake you.”

But she didn’t wake Sharon, and she barely spoke to Caleb when he came in to tell her good night.

The next morning Ada’s fever had vanished, but she was still disoriented. Julia took her to see Doc Hanson.

“It’s normal with a urinary tract infection, Julia. She has mild dementia anyway, and the infection makes that worse.”

“Should I have done something different?”

“No. You did exactly the right thing by bringing her in to see me. I’m giving her a strong antibiotic, and you should see improvement in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

Thumping her cane against the floor, Ada demanded that someone tell her where her quilting supplies had disappeared to. It hurt Julia’s heart, but she understood it was part of the dementia. Ada was remembering better days.

Doc Hanson smiled.

Julia looped her arm through Ada’s. “We’ll find your things,
mamm
. No need to worry.”

By noon Monday they had finished at the doctor’s office, picked up Ada’s prescription, and were riding home. Julia should have felt better, but she didn’t. The week had started off on the wrong foot, and the weather was making her
narrisch
. Even Missy seemed skittish, tossing her head and pulling left when traffic approached them—pulling into the oncoming lane. It took all of Julia’s concentration to get them safely home.

Once she tucked her mother into bed, she had half the day left—half the time to complete all of the items on her list because tomorrow the café would be open again.

Her dream had come true, though, and complaining about it would help no one. So she trudged downstairs, opened the windows to cool the rooms, and set to work.

Caleb didn’t know what to make of the unseasonable temperatures.

He’d seen strange weather before. He was from Indiana, after all. They had their share of tornadoes, droughts, and even the occasional flood. God was in control of the seasons, not man, so he’d never paid it much attention.

But sixty degrees the first week in November was unusual. It made him itchy. And it made his animals nervous.

Tim had stopped by earlier in the morning. Jeanette had been on the Internet and checked—the average high temperature for this time of year ranged between forty-five and fifty-five. Not so far off. Not really.

So why were they all acting as if boulders were going to fall from the sky?

He’d told Tim not to worry, and he’d gone back to repairing his barn. Winter would arrive. It was only a matter of time, and when it did, it would probably be a good one. That was it, he realized as he stared out across Julia’s garden.

They were no doubt in for one very long, very cold winter.

He’d seen it before, and he should have recognized the signs all around him—warm weather, unsettled animals, and people on edge. Winter was coming. He didn’t need a computer to tell him that.

So he spent a few extra hours in the barn, making sure things were as tight and snug as he could make them.

When he went inside for dinner, it took only one glance to see how tired Julia was. She looked ready to fall asleep in her chair.

“Is Ada any better?”

“I think so. She’s sleeping well. Not…” Julia moved her hand back and forth across the top of the table, mimicking Ada’s earlier agitations.