Living in Harmony (44 page)

Later, as she drove to town with Amy, wrapped snuggly in a lap robe, her disappointment only increased with each passing mile.

“Are you warm enough?” asked Amy.

“
Jah
, quite. It was nice of John to heat the blankets by the woodstove.”

Amy grinned. “Sure was. I can't wait to talk to Mrs. Chadd. I checked the date. We're still within the thirty-day hold for the earnest money deposit. We haven't lost our chance for the house.” Her tone equaled that of someone heralding a cure for cancer.

“I'm happy for you. I look forward to seeing it…on a warmer day.”

“Oh, you'll be seeing it plenty,
schwester,
while you help me paint the bedrooms.” Amy laughed uproariously. “We'll swing by the bank first to set up a transfer of funds. John and I will pay cash for the farm so we'll own the place free and clear, without any encumbrances.” Her tone now implied the end to global hunger.

Nora politely waited until Amy's exuberance waned a bit before asking, “Elam just left? He had no message for me? I'd thought we had become friends during the short time I was here—my only friend in Harmony.”

“
Mir leid
, sweet sister, I've been self-absorbed. There was a message. He said to tell you that it was nice meeting you and that you should stay adventurous. And not to let Harmony moss grow up your backside.” Amy giggled like a schoolgirl with the mental image.

“He said that?”

“
Jah
, he did. Apparently, he appreciated your short friendship too. I know he had few other pals in town.” Amy slapped the reins lightly on the horse's back. “I hope he finds what he's looking for. He surely wasn't happy here. That's why he indulged in those bad habits.”

Nora struggled not to expose her turbulent emotions. “What do you suppose that is? What does Elam want in life?”

Amy shook her head, hidden inside the oversized bonnet. “I haven't the slightest idea. I can't stop fixating on the meatball sub with a big cappuccino I plan to order for lunch.”

Nora sank down into her heavy wool cloak and layers of blankets for the rest of the ride. Yet two particular words that Amy used earlier regarding Aunt Prudence settled in her head and refused to dislodge.

Wasted time.

Nora was no longer thinking about Amy or Aunt Prudence or even Elam.

G
od graced the ecstatic bride and nervous groom with abundant sunshine on their wedding day. The sky was a fathomless blue with wisps of white clouds so high it seemed they could barely be in our solar system. No one appeared to mind that temperatures had dropped into single digits, even though it was the beginning of March.

While Nora slept, Amy knelt beside her bed to send up prayers of thanksgiving. She had found the answers she had been seeking. By nightfall she would be Mrs. John Detweiler, and Amy couldn't think of anything that would make her happier.

She bathed and dressed and wound her hair into a tight coil. Tonight, in the privacy of their bedroom, John would see her waist-length hair down for the first time.

And today would be the last day he would shave off his whiskers.

She didn't mind that her new dress wasn't the soft shade of blue it would have been in Pennsylvania. And there would be
no reception with tables brimming with gifts and sweet desserts, including a multitiered frosted wedding cake. Their Harmony bishop would cringe at the gluttonous excess of a Lancaster wedding meal. But none of that mattered. Amy could eat stale saltines washed down with well water and still enjoy herself.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Sally had the kitchen in a flurry of activity.

“Well, there you are! I thought you would never finish.” Sally pushed up the window and shouted. “John, get in the shower! Time's a'wasting.” She slammed it shut to stem the draft of cold air.

Amy assessed the countertops. “Did you even sleep last night?” Several types of pie cooled on metal racks, while one huge roaster of braised purple cabbage with roast pork and another of her maple syrup sweet potatoes waited by the door. “Is anybody else cooking food today?” she asked.

Pleasure mingled with pride on Sally's face. “
Jah
, the ladies are making their new assignments from my list. But I couldn't stop myself. I wanted to make this day special for you.” Impulsively, she threw her arms around Amy's waist and squeezed. “The bishop will shake his head and grumble under his breath that there's too much food, but he'll allow the feast for you and John as long as nothing goes to waste.”

“
Danki
,” murmured Amy, feeling emotion clog her throat for the first of many times that day. “What's in here?” She lifted the lid on a huge stockpot, releasing the fragrance of celery and onions.

“Your sister insisted on making traditional Lancaster wedding soup. Except she had no written recipe and guessed at the ingredients and proportions. Nora admitted she never cooked it before, only watched your
mamm
a few times.” Sally's dimples deepened. “We'll hope for the best. I haven't sampled it yet.”

John stomped into the back mudroom and shrugged off his outerwear. He called “
Guder mariye
” to Amy with an ear to ear grin before disappearing into the bathroom. There was no rule
against the groom seeing the bride before the ceremony as in the English world. He emerged fifteen minutes later with his damp hair neatly combed, dressed in his Sunday black coat, pants, and crisp white shirt.

Amy leaned against the kitchen counter, savoring the details of the Detweiler household. She wanted to remember her wedding day forever. For a few moments she thought about her parents, picturing what her
mamm
would be doing and saying to her. Then she forced those memories away, not wishing to cry. No bride wanted to look blotchy and swollen-eyed. Her sole regret was that her sisters, Rachel and Beth, and her grandparents couldn't make the trip with the unpredictable weather. Late winter still packed plenty of wallop for stalwart New Englanders.

In a few months she and John would take a wedding trip once mild weather returned. Who wanted to walk the rugged Maine coastline in forty-mile-an-hour winds? They would honeymoon in Portland at a bed-and-breakfast near the water. Amy would view the ocean for the first…and perhaps last…time. But it didn't matter. Whatever God had planned was fine with her. Then they would travel by train to Philadelphia, on to Harrisburg, and finally to Lancaster County by bus. A taxi would take them to
grossmammi
's farm for a month-long vacation. Amy planned to sleep little to enjoy the maximum visit with her sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and, of course, her grandparents. Time marches on, bringing new
bopplin
and taking away those whose allotted days on earth are over. Only our faith in the hereafter softens the sting of the relentless cycle.

Just as Sally bustled away to tend her children, Nora appeared in the doorway. “Won't be long now,” she murmured.

“Bring it on!” Amy used her sister's favorite English phrase to the girl's utter delight. They both erupted into a fit of giggles like many times before. “Don't forget the crate of surprises,” Amy cautioned once she regained her composure.

“Not to worry. It's already on the porch.” Nora rocked back and
forth on her heels. She looked very young and pretty today, even in her drab olive-green dress.

“Thank you for standing up as my attendant.” Amy studied her sister to memorize every detail, even though it would be weeks until she and John moved into their new home.

“Who else would do it? I'm your only sister in Maine.” She rolled her eyes and hurried to the stove. “Why don't you see if Sally needs help? I want to be alone when I sample my pot of soup in case it needs last-minute adjustments or a quick dump into the compost pile.”

On feet barely touching the floor, Amy did as Nora suggested, feeling more cherished than any woman had a right to.

Later that morning Amy and John listened with heightened awareness to two sermons, plenty of Scripture readings, and tuneless singing by the congregation. When the three-hour service ended, the bishop married them in a simple but reverent exchange of vows before a crowd of joyous faces. Will and Prudence Summerton sat in the back row on their respective sides of the meetinghouse. They would kneel and confess their sins at a later date to be restored to their former Amish community. Perhaps they would someday move back to Harmony or, more likely, they would remain in their quiet world up north. But Amy would never be far from her aunt's support again.

As they were joined together as man and wife, John's face glowed, while Amy couldn't stop holding her breath. Then the newlyweds moved to the front steps to greet their guests. Inside, men moved the benches and set up long tables. Women carried in roasters of food from their buggies for Sally to organize into a buffet. As her special soup reheated atop the wood-burning stove, Nora set out the sisters' pre-wedding handiwork. She placed jelly jars filled with cut celery sticks on each table; their leafy tops lending the appearance of flower bouquets.

Sally flitted among the ladies like a trained tour operator. She
directed, organized, and praised everyone's contribution, smiling the entire time. Women young and old turned to her as their leader. Agnes Miller followed Sally around, eager to assist wherever needed. Agnes had not forgotten Sally's intervention and never would. The younger woman gained a new adopted
mamm
for her act of Christian compassion. The change in Sally over the last six months had been astonishing. Amy experienced a rare moment of pride that she'd helped transform her into an exemplary pastor's wife.

Once Sally organized the buffet, she ladled small bowls of Nora's creamy soup for the meal's first course. Amy and Nora delivered the bowls to the tables, determined to transplant a Lancaster tradition to central Maine. They watched one wedding guest hold his soup to his nose and sniff. Another man took a spoonful and lifted his eyebrows. Most, however, began eating and didn't stop until the soup was gone. After Amy and John finished their lunch of chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, applesauce, and warm bread, they wandered between tables to thank the guests for their gifts. People lingered over coffee and dessert in no hurry to venture into the cold. Amy presented each woman with a packet of celery seeds for their spring gardens. If the district enjoyed the soup recipe, the new tradition might catch on.

Only two young faces didn't seem to enjoy the jubilant occasion. After doing her share of serving and cleanup, Nora stood along the meetinghouse wall like the proverbial wallflower. A few women attempted conversations with her, but their interactions were brief. Nora, in her drab dress, black
kapp
, and high-top shoes, looked shrunken and forlorn. But whenever Amy looked at her, Nora's face bloomed into a smile.

She so wants me to be happy
, thought Amy.
Can't she understand I want the same thing for her?

The other melancholy wedding attendee was Lewis. He talked softly with his sisters, listened to his brother's enthusiastic plans for spring planting, and helped move benches and tables whenever
necessary. But all the while he watched Nora from the corner of his eye with his broken heart glowing like a neon sign along the highway. What a shame Nora had lost interest in the handsome, hardworking shopkeeper's son.

But Amy shook away her disappointment. Her sister was a grown woman, capable and entitled to making her own choices. The overprotectiveness started by their mother and continued by her had done nothing but hobble Nora. To find her place in the world, she needed to stand on her own two feet.

As though Nora knew Amy's musing centered on her, she slipped an arm around Amy's waist. “I believe the celery soup was a crowd-pleaser. The kettle has been scraped dry. There's not a drop left. I think those seeds might just get planted this spring.” Nora leaned close to whisper. “Will celery even grow in Maine's rocky soil, or did we just waste our money?”

Amy hugged her tightly. “Thomas said it would do fine and that organic celery is the best. There's always a good market for it in Boston.”

“Sounds like you and John have discovered the perfect cash crop for your new farm.” Nora tightened the embrace. “Did you enjoy your special day?”

“I did.
Danki
for all your help.”

Nora waved her hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it.
Daed
would be pleased that the eldest daughter is finally married off.” She hooted with laughter.

For a few minutes, they stood side by side as parents rounded up
kinner
and collected empty food containers. Young married men crowded around John to slap his back and offer last-minute advice to the new husband.

“If you don't mind, I'll start for home,” whispered Nora.

Amy's head snapped around. “It's still cold outside. We'll all leave within the hour.”

“I know, but the fresh air will do me good. I feel the start of a
migraine. Besides, Lewis has already cornered me twice in conversation. He's so nice, but I feel nothing but guilty when I'm around him. Be happy, my dear
schwester
.” Nora buzzed a kiss across Amy's cheek and headed for the hallway for her cloak.