Rebecca's Choice (37 page)

Together the shawl-wrapped women walked up the concrete walk. John thought he saw Rebecca glance his way but couldn’t be certain. Ten minutes later, when the line of men and boys moved indoors, he caught Rebecca’s eye. The hint of a smile played on her face. He sat down on the hard bench and held himself back from a steady stare in her direction.

When the songs started, he was asked to lead in the praise song. He gladly agreed, even though he wasn’t that good at it. The energy came more from his heart than his ability to stay on tune with all the ups and downs of Amish German hymn singing. Nothing could dim his happiness today though, even when he stumbled on the second line and had to receive help from the song leader.

After the last line was sung, he dared to glance at Rebecca and saw her eyes twinkle with mirth. He felt as if his heart could hold no more joy. By the time the service was done and dinner was eaten, he could hardly contain his news either.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked him, when she climbed into the buggy. “You really shouldn’t try to lead songs.”

He ignored the remark. “Bishop talked with me.”

“Oh…” She settled down on the seat beside him. “He did?”

“Yes. We can get married this fall.”

“Oh, John,” she said, reaching for his arm, “did he really?”

He nodded and knew his face glowed with his joy.

“Such good news. Oh, John. And right after your father’s illness. Do good and bad things always happen together?”

John slapped the lines. The horse in line behind him was impatient, its nose already tight against his back.

“One may, in fact, have had something to do with the other. I think Bishop wanted to give Dad good news.”

“Then all thing do work out.”

“Seems so. Are you happy that we can marry sooner?”

“Yes,” she said but avoided his eyes because of the tears on her cheeks. “It seems almost wrong to be so happy.”

“I’ll talk to the renters tomorrow,” John told her. “I can hardly believe it myself.”

“Leona wants us to come to our place for supper tonight. They’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Miss the singing?” John asked.

“Yes, it’s worth it. Leona doesn’t visit too often. Plus, we’re almost old people now. Singings are a thing of the past.”

“Not quite,” John said chuckling, “though not soon enough for me.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her close, as they drove across the Harshville covered bridge.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-NINE

L
eona and her family left at dawn on Monday morning. Rebecca got back in from chores in time to sit with her aunt for a few minutes at the breakfast table. Mattie had prepared a separate breakfast for her sister’s family to give them an early start.

The goodbyes were happy ones, hopes high for a soon reunion at Rebecca’s wedding. As a sister of the bride’s mother, Leona would have a favored seat all day. She pronounced herself excited at the prospects of a wedding in which she had no work to do.

In many ways Leona’s departure triggered the beginnings of the wedding plans. Before that something always seemed to disrupt them. To Rebecca Leona’s visit would always remain the dividing line between uncertainty and the sure knowledge she was to be a bride.

The wedding dress came out of the closet. That was where she had stored the box of cut material when she had realized what Emma’s actions might mean. She figured there would be plenty of time to work on it but had never found the heart to sew the dress. Now that things were settled, the energy returned with a rush.

After Matthew left with the other schoolchildren, Rebecca laid the material on the kitchen table. Mattie must have forgotten what she purchased because her mother’s breath caught when she came up from the basement.

“It’s beautiful, Rebecca. So you really are getting married.”

“Yes. Bishop said so.”

“Then I’d better get busy. I still have Leona’s visit on my mind, I guess.”

“I’m so glad she was here this weekend.”

“Next time we’ll be ready for her the day before she arrives,” Mattie chuckled. “So let’s see. My… my head’s just spinning, but we should be able to handle everything.”

“It’s not your first wedding, at least. I’m thankful for that.”

“The others didn’t have as many bumps in the road,” Mattie said making a face.

“To a smooth sailing from here on out!” Rebecca made a flourish over the kitchen table, the scissors in her hand. They slipped and flew across the room, the arch high, but missing the kitchen table and wedding dress. The point thudded into the bench Matthew had left pulled out before they clattered onto the floor.

Mattie raised her eyebrows. “Don’t count the chickens before they hatch. There are always rough spots in the road.”

Rebecca felt a little pale, as she went to pick up the scissors. “I guess I’d better watch what I say.”

“Be happy,” Mattie assured her. “This one should be about over soon. Now, let’s see. Why don’t you work on the dress? A week’s time should be enough, don’t you think? Then next week we’ll start on the meal menu and the guest list.”

Rebecca took a deep breath. “It’s really going to happen.”

“The more time you spend dreaming, the less time there is for work,” Mattie told her, as she left for the basement. But Rebecca saw the smile on her face.

Her gaze went back to the cloth spread on the table. Its light blue sheen glowed in the morning light. She ran her hand across the length of a piece and imagined the day she would wear the dress. It would be beautiful, as lovely as the day when she and John would be man and wife.

Now, though, there was work to do and plenty of it. She lifted the first two pieces and took them into the living room to begin. By lunch-time she had the upper part of the dress done and stopped to prepare sandwiches. Mattie wanted help cleaning the rooms upstairs, where Stephen and Leona had stayed, so that took most of the afternoon. Since she still didn’t want her sisters to see the dress, it all went back into the box before three thirty.

On Sunday John told her the renters would leave next month. He wanted Rebecca to come over to pick out paint colors. She told him the house was just fine, just as long as he was in it. That brought a smile, but John wouldn’t be persuaded. The whole house would be repainted in whatever colors she wished. He still had the paint samples in his room but didn’t want to work on the project today. They set a time when Rebecca could come over during the week.

On Wednesday the dress was done, and Rebecca tried it on, alone in her room, and then dared show it to Mattie.

“John will like that,” Mattie told her.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Really?”

Mattie grinned. “Quit preening now. We have lots of work to do.”

Rebecca laughed in the sheer delight of the moment.

“I’m glad this is working out for you,” Mattie told her. “Both your dad and I are. You don’t know how much.”

“I’ll put it up right away,” Rebecca said and raced back upstairs. There she folded the dress carefully, placing it in the box and sliding it back on the top shelf of the closet. To leave it hang would invite her sisters to visit her room for quick glances and soon quick touches, she figured. The dress would stay here, only to be taken out of the box and ironed the night before the wedding.

Each day followed the other in quick procession. Some longer than others, but all were full of work and plans. John and Rebecca got down to the subject of witnesses a few weeks later. It was on a Sunday night. They had again chosen to stay home from the singing. A habit, John said with a tease, he was used to already.

They were at John’s place, upstairs in his room. Rebecca suggested they go down and consult with Isaac and Miriam, especially about John’s choice for a witness.

“You don’t trust me already,” he protested, but his eyes twinkled.

“I’m just saying it might be better to get your parents’ opinion on this,” Rebecca told him, to which he agreed.

Downstairs Isaac was on the couch, his Bible open in front of him. Miriam still had the supper dishes to finish in the kitchen but came out when she saw they meant to stay.

“Rebecca thinks we ought to ask about my choice of witnesses,” John informed his parents.

“She’s a smart girl,” Isaac said chuckling. “Anyone who wants my opinion is smart.”

“I thought about that,” Miriam said ignoring Isaac. “You don’t have any near relatives to choose from, and Bethany’s children aren’t old enough yet.”

“You see the problem,” John said. “So I have come up with a solution I like.”

“And?” Isaac said.

“Luke Byler,” John said.

“Luke?” Miriam sat up straight. “Don’t you think that’s pushing it? Rachel will be sore enough the way it is—probably thinks she’ll never get the money now.”

“It would be a good way to show her that we mean to do what’s right,” John said.

“You like him, don’t you?” Isaac asked.

“Yes, from what I know of him,” John said.

“Then ask him,” Miriam told him. “He’s got a girlfriend, doesn’t he?”

“I think so.”

“Bishop’s wife said he did,” Miriam offered. “She told me after they came home from the funeral—Susie’s her name. I don’t know her.”

“Then that’s it,” John pronounced with a smile. “We’ll ask him.”

“What about your side?” Miriam asked with a smile. “Do you have something of the same problem?”

“I do,” Rebecca agreed. “Both Lloyd and Margaret’s children are too young.”

John waited beside her but didn’t look too interested, Rebecca thought, so whatever she decided would likely be okay.

“What about Wilma?” Rebecca suggested. “That’s done sometimes. Ask your friends, if you don’t have relatives.”

“Is she dating?” John asked.

“Just started,” Rebecca told him. “A boy from Holmes County, James Wengerd.”

“She should be thrilled.” Miriam smiled in agreement, and so it was decided.

John took Rebecca home around ten. He went inside but soon left. She watched his buggy leave. The lights seemed to linger along the road even after the sound of his horse’s hooves could no longer be heard. She went upstairs to her room and, for the joy of it, peeked into the box. The blue color of the wedding dress danced in the light of the kerosene lamp.