Huckleberry Spring (8 page)

“I did not,” Emma said.

He glanced at her. “You can’t hide stuff from me, Em.”

Regret flitted across Lizzie’s face before she pinned Mahlon with a steely gaze. “Don’t bother trying to get under my skin, Mailman. You’ll lose every time.”

Mahlon raised his arms as if stopping traffic. “I’m just pointing out your shortcomings. If you can’t handle the truth, don’t come over.”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m coming over. I’m coming over to torment Emma’s irritating twin brother.”

Mahlon matched her glare and added a frown. “Just to make sure you’re sincere and won’t hurt Emma’s feelings again, bring me an apple pie, and I’ll think about letting you back in the house.”

Emma pressed her lips together in an attempt to keep a straight face. Lizzie and Mahlon had always picked at each other like a pair of cackling hens.

“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” Lizzie replied.

Mahlon puffed out his chest like a rooster protecting his territory. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I,” Lizzie said with her nose in the air, which inspired a look of indignation from Mahlon.

She picked up her bag, smiled brightly, and gave Emma a swift hug. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“With an apple pie,” Mahlon added as Lizzie swept out the door like a leaf caught in the wind.

She turned around and winked. “Don’t you wish,” she said, before whirling around and marching across the lawn and into the field that was the shortest way to her house.

Mahlon stood with his hand holding the door and watched her go.

Emma lifted her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “You’re almost twenty-one years old, Mahlon. You’ve got to start being nicer to girls or you’ll never get married.”

“I’m only nice to the ones who don’t have a brother who broke your heart.”

“You and Lizzie have always butted heads, even before me and Ben.”

“She likes it when I needle her a little.”

She shook her finger at him. “You’ll be nice to Lizzie or you’ll find bread crumbs in your bed tonight.”

“That’s nothing new. I eat in bed all the time.”

“You do not.”

Mahlon stared out the door at the very spot where Lizzie had disappeared from sight. “Do you think she’ll bring pie? I really like Lizzie’s pie.”

Chapter 5

Dawdi reclined in his chair, trying to read without going cross-eyed. A puffy bandage sat beneath his nose like a miniature sling to catch any blood that might still be flowing from his surgery.

Mammi stood at the kitchen sink fiddling with a bottle of painkillers, trying to open the lid and read the instructions at the same time. “Ben, dear, will you come and open this for me? The pharmacist must have been very strong. I can’t seem to budge it.”

Ben left his post next to Dawdi and went to see what he could do about Mammi’s bottle.

“I don’t need any of that, Banannie,” Dawdi said, forming the words as if each of his lips was four inches thick. “I’m not in hardly any pain, and in any case, I want to keep my wits about me.”

“Now, Felty, you’re taking some painkiller,” Mammi insisted.

Ben wasn’t sure if he should open the bottle for Mammi or throw it in the trash for Dawdi. He chose Mammi. She looked the most determined.

Dawdi, with his strange bandage strapped to his face, turned his head to look at Mammi out of the corner of his eye. “I’m feeling pretty gute. The doctor said I would. When Jonas Hoover had nasal surgery, they shoved about six feet of gauze up his nose.”

The thought that Dawdi might be feeling fine seemed to agitate Mammi. “Now, Felty. You’re not doing gute at all. You’ll be off your feet for at least a week, probably two.”

“I’ve done my part, Annie. I’ll not lie around any longer than I need to.”

Mammi propped her hands on her hips. “We need at least two more weeks.”

“I’ve got to tend to the animals,” Felty said.

Mammi smiled at Ben as if she were embarrassed that he was listening in on their peculiar conversation. “That’s why Ben is here, dear. He is taking care of everything.”

Even with his hands tingling, Ben opened the bottle with ease and handed it to Mammi. “That’s right, Dawdi. I don’t want you to worry about a thing. Just concentrate on getting better.”

Dawdi curled his lips until the corners disappeared beneath his nose bandage. “I don’t even have to concentrate on that. The surgery wasn’t so bad.”

“Now, Felty,” Mammi said, the scold rising in her voice, “there will be no talk of getting better.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. Mammi certainly had a peculiar way of nursing her husband back to health. But Ben couldn’t argue with it. Mammi and Dawdi had been together for over sixty years. Mammi knew better how to care for Dawdi than anyone. If Dawdi needed words of discouragement, who was Ben to question her methods?

Mammi tried to read the tiny directions on the pill bottle label. “Stuff and nonsense. Where are my glasses?” She handed the bottle back to him. “What does it say, dear?”

“Take one every six to eight hours as needed for pain.”

Ben handed Mammi one pill, feeling guilty for conspiring against Dawdi. Mammi filled a glass with water and took it to Dawdi.

Ben tried to smooth things over with Dawdi. “The doctor said you’ll heal faster if you take something for the pain. It helps reduce the inflammation.”

Mammi snapped her head around to look at Ben and stopped in her tracks. “He did say that, didn’t he?” She reversed direction, away from Dawdi’s chair. “Never mind, then.”

Felty held out his hand with a smug look on his half-covered face. “Come here, Annie Banannie. I’ll have my pill now.”

Ben pressed his lips tightly together to keep from chuckling. Had Mammi tricked Dawdi into taking a pill, or had she really changed her mind? Maybe she was way more clever than Ben could ever hope to be.

Sixty years of marriage was no small thing.

The door opened, and Ben’s sister Lizzie charged like a bull into the great room. She had a basket slung over one arm and a smile pasted on her face, but one look at her expression told Ben that she was irritated about something. She glanced at him and her eyes flashed.

Jah, she was irritated at him.

“Mammi, how are you yet?” Lizzie said, depositing her basket on the table, striding to Mammi’s side, and giving her a firm hug.

“Lizzie, it’s wonderful to see you.”

Lizzie quickly moved to Dawdi and sat on the sofa. “How are you, Dawdi?”

Dawdi lifted his head from the recliner. “A lot better than your mammi thinks I am. Hardly any pain at all.”

“How did the surgery go?”

“The doctor told us it went well,” Mammi said. “But you never know. There could be unexpected complications. He’ll have to be very careful for the next three or four weeks.”

Dawdi shifted in his recliner. “Not at all. I feel so gute, I could get up and milk the cows tomorrow.”

Lizzie took Dawdi’s hand. “You must take it easy. We wouldn’t want you back in the hospital if you overdo it.”

Mammi tapped Ben on the arm. “Ben will take excellent care of us. He’s got all summer.”

All summer? Ben wasn’t planning on even being here through May. Unless Dawdi needed him, of course. He’d suffer through months of being close to Emma for Dawdi’s sake.

Lizzie studied Dawdi’s bandage. “You look like you’re wearing a bright white and red mustache.”

“Did you bring us some goodies?” Mammi asked.

Lizzie stood and went to the table. She pulled a golden-brown pie from the basket. “I made apple pies today. One for you, one for our family, and one to take to Emma’s tomorrow, maybe,” she said, lowering her eyes.

Ben’s heart turned over in its grave. Lizzie was going to visit Emma.

Lizzie gave Ben a pointed look. Jah, she was irritated about something. He had a feeling he’d find out soon enough what it was.

Mammi clapped her hands. “I love apple pie.”

“It’s not really the season for them,” Lizzie said. “But Lark Country Store had some.” She turned back to Dawdi. “What can I do for you?”

Dawdi patted her hand. “I don’t need any help, Liz. I’m feeling much better.”

Lizzie leaned closer to Dawdi’s chair. “I want to help wherever I can, even if Ben has things so well in hand.” She shot him an accusatory look again, as if everything in the world were his fault.

“Alrighty then,” Dawdi said. “You can read the paper to me.”

Lizzie picked up
The Budget
sitting on Dawdi’s small table and started reading. Ben helped Mammi tidy the kitchen while Lizzie read out loud. Dawdi loved
The Budget
, but Ben’s eyes tended to glaze over after about half a page.

Once they’d cleaned the kitchen, Mammi sliced the apple pie and scooped generous pieces onto four small plates. Ben sprayed whipped topping from a can onto each piece. They handed plates to Lizzie and Dawdi and sat together to eat. Lizzie stopped reading, even though she was at an incredibly exciting part about who had come to services in Wautoma last month.

“This is the best pie I’ve ever tasted,” Dawdi said. “Fit for a king.”

For some unknown reason, Lizzie blushed. “I hope everybody likes it.”

“Very gute,” Ben said, studying Lizzie’s face.

Her embarrassment didn’t last long. She cleared her throat and remembered to glare at Ben. “I saw Emma Nelson today,” she said, as if Emma were a regular topic of conversation.

Ben felt the heat travel up his neck as he clenched his jaw. Lizzie obviously had a bee in her bonnet about something, but he’d rather not discuss Emma in front of Mammi and Dawdi. It was tricky enough when Emma came to Huckleberry Hill and Mammi insisted Ben spend hours with her in the garden.

He didn’t know how strong he could be. And he certainly didn’t want Mammi and Dawdi to get their hopes up about Emma.

Jah. He wouldn’t want to upset Mammi and Dawdi for anything.

He shot to his feet and nearly lost his piece of pie in the process. “Thanks for coming, Lizzie. The pie tasted wonderful gute.”

Lizzie stood as if she’d been expecting some sort of reaction from him. “Why don’t you come outside and see me off, big brother?”

She retrieved her sweater from the hook and handed him the coat hanging next to it. It happened to be Dawdi’s coat, which was about four sizes too small. He looped it back on the hook, gave her a smirk, and opened the door. They walked out together. The late-afternoon sun felt comfortably warm at his back. No need for a sweater.

“Okay,” he said, deciding not to mince any words. Lizzie never did. “I’m really sorry for whatever it is I did.” Then a depressing thought came to him. “Have you changed your mind about being Emma’s friend?” The way she frowned at him made his heart sink. “I take it the reunion didn’t go well.”

Lizzie’s face turned a pale shade of purple. “Go well? Emma thinks everything is her fault. She welcomed me back with open arms. We’re best friends again.”

Ben almost breathed out a sigh of relief, but her expression stopped him short. Maybe he shouldn’t be happy just yet. Lizzie still acted as if he were waving a red bandanna in front of her face and taunting her. “Okay?” he prompted.

She shoved her hands onto her hips and stared him down even though he towered over her by seven or eight inches. “All this time. All these months. How could you?”

“How could I what?”

She narrowed her eyes to barely visible slits. “Don’t interrupt me.”

He shut his mouth and pretended he didn’t have one.

“It must have been very hard when Emma broke up with you.”

The memory almost bulldozed him. Why would she bring up such a painful event? He flexed his tingling fingers.

She looked at him as if he’d stolen an Englischer’s car. He crushed his lips tighter together. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“You told me not to interrupt.”

She stomped her foot and turned a deeper shade of purple. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re the one who called off the engagement.”

A puff of air could have knocked Ben to the ground. He couldn’t keep his voice from shaking. “You didn’t know?”

“All I know is that you told me you had to get away from Emma, that you weren’t going to get married.” The anger seemed to melt from her expression and she looked truly hurt. “You loved her so much, Ben. I assumed she called it off because you never would have.”

Ben’s throat went dry. He loved Emma with every beat of his miserable heart. But sometimes love had to be unselfish. He briefly closed his eyes and told himself for the millionth time that it was better this way. Emma would recover in time, and in the end, she would be glad she hadn’t married him.

“I feel so
deerich
, foolish,” Lizzie said.

“It doesn’t matter. Now you know.”

“All these months I’ve been blaming Emma for driving you away. I told her that I’d lost my brother because of her.”

Lizzie’s words felt like a slap in the face. Emma must have been devastated—more devastated than she already had been.

And her pain was his fault. Again.

Lizzie’s face clouded over, and she hooked her elbow around his arm. “
Cum
. You need to sit down before you fall.”

He did as he was told. He suddenly didn’t feel so strong.

Lizzie softened her voice and spoke as if she were delivering very bad news. “Everybody thought Emma had broken it off. You moved to Florida, Ben.”

“But didn’t she explain everything to you?”

She huffed out a breath. “I accused her of driving you away, remember? She wouldn’t have wanted to explain anything to such a rotten friend. She just pasted on that fake smile and tried to work herself to death. I thought she acted that way because she was happy to be rid of you.”

A black pit threatened to swallow Ben whole. Poor Emma. He had found some measure of peace in Florida because he thought Emma had somehow moved on, that she wasn’t mourning for him. Now all that disappeared. She must have suffered more terribly than he had anticipated.

Lizzie scooted closer to him and draped her arm over his shoulder. She kept her voice low and soothing even though Ben could tell she was rumbling like a volcano beneath the surface. “I don’t understand. Why did you call things off with her? You two were everybody’s ideal couple. We were all a little jealous at how good-looking you both are. Although it was no mystery you found each other. Good-looking people seem to find other good-looking people to live happily ever after with.”

“We found each other because you invited her to the lake four years ago. It’s all your doing.”

“So?” She studied his face. “Why did you break up with your perfect match?”

He held his breath for what seemed like ten minutes and thought of all the things he
could
say to Lizzie but wouldn’t. “I don’t deserve her.”

Lizzie raised both eyebrows and blinked exactly twice. “That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my life.”

He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. Stupid or not, that was all he could give her. If he told her everything, she’d argue with him, and he didn’t want to argue. He’d debated with himself so many times that he had a permanent headache. But still, he thought that maybe he could make Lizzie see reason without really giving her all the information. “Emma would have been miserable being married to me. I know you think that’s dumb, but it’s truly the way I feel. I love—loved—her too much to let her chain herself to me for life. I won’t do it.”

Lizzie batted her eyes as if a stiff wind had blown chimney ash into her face. She patted his hand as if she were explaining things to a five-year-old. “I believe you’re suffering from a severe case of low self-esteem.”

He pulled his hand away. “It’s not right for Emma and me. Can you trust me when I tell you it’s just not right?”

Lizzie seemed unmoved by his plea. “If I don’t know why you broke up, how can I help you get back together?”

Ben’s heart leaped at the possibility even as he recognized what a disaster it would be to Emma’s tender feelings. “Nae. We won’t get back together.”

Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “You can’t stop me from trying to make it happen.”