The Bridesmaid (3 page)

A mighty gut sign!

And tomorrow evening at seven o'clock, Eben had said he'd call her, having asked for the phone number of the community phone shanty situated in one of
Dat
's fields.

So much for Cora Jane's admonition,
Joanna thought with a smile.

Then a sudden concern presented itself, and she couldn't help wondering what Eben wanted to discuss by phone.
And why now?

J
oanna slipped into bed well after ten o'clock that night, but she awakened before dawn with such curiosity and expectation for the day that she got right up and lit the lantern. She hurried across the room, her bare feet chilled by the draft creeping through the floorboards. Then, taking her notebook from the three-ring binder stored in her hope chest, she curled back up in bed and wrote for a good hour, till it was time to shower.

Her thoughts today were on one thing: the phone call from Eben tonight. Oh, to hear his voice again!

After dressing, she brushed her hair more than a hundred times, caught up in the notion that she wanted to look her very best, even though Eben couldn't possibly see her. Joanna was to use the outdoor phone meant primarily for emergencies and calling for a driver—necessary things that didn't include talking to a beau. Yet lots of folk did small things behind the bishop's back, saying by their actions,
What the strict bishop doesn't know won't matter.

Even so, what
would
happen if Joanna were ever caught using the phone for personal use? Was it truly a transgression?

Parting her hair down the middle, she tightly twisted the sides before pulling her blond hair into a thick bun. Then she placed her white Kapp on her head and hurried back upstairs to make her bed and put away her writing notebook. She'd taken an unnecessary risk, leaving it out in plain sight on the bed, of all things. For sure and for certain, the phone call tonight had her all but
ferhoodled
.

She still had no idea why Eben wanted to call. Was it just because he missed her? His letters certainly indicated his lasting affection. She hoped hers sent the same loving message back to him.

After breakfast, she put a roast in the oven, then set about sweeping Mamma's big kitchen floor with the stiff-bristled broom. She got in the corners real good, as Mamma had taught her back when she was a little girl, scarcely as tall as the broom itself, finishing out in the catch-all utility room, which was as cluttered as she'd ever seen it.
How does such a mess happen in a single day?

Once the floors were spotless, Cora Jane brought in a pile of mending and sat down at the kitchen table without uttering a word to Joanna or to their pleasingly plump mother. Right away, she set to work patching, not giving anyone so much as a glance. Joanna figured it was best to keep out of her sister's way, especially considering how Cora Jane had acted at Cousin Malinda's wedding.

Around ten-thirty, Joanna wiped her brow and went to wash up before peeling potatoes for a generous pot of beef stew. Taking into account Cora Jane's attitude, she'd rather cook on her own. Mamma had undoubtedly noticed the tension between them, but Joanna hoped things might calm down somewhat, now that Malinda and Andy's wedding was past.
Now that I've served as a bridesmaid yet again.

Joanna began cutting up the potatoes, musing. If she could do anything in the kitchen, she'd choose something other than cleaning. Cooking was altogether different, because she didn't equate making meals or baking bread with housework. To her thinking, one was humdrum and uncreative, the other enjoyable. She smiled, thinking how she'd feel cooking for Eben each day.

Just at that moment, Cora Jane looked over at her. “You happy 'bout something, sister?”

Mamma turned to look, as well, blue eyes shining. “Are ya makin' enough stew so we'll have leftovers tomorrow?”

“Oh, there'll be a-plenty,” replied Joanna, thankful for Mamma's intervention. “This is a double batch.”

“
Gut
,
'
cause I really
hate
peelin' potatoes—it's the worst thing ever,” Cora Jane complained.

“Now, dear,” Mamma said sweetly. “No need to say ‘hate.'”

Cora Jane clammed up, eyes blinking fast. At her age, she knew better than to say things to set Mamma off, yet sometimes Cora Jane just seemed bent on being disagreeable.

But Joanna knew it would do no good to fret over her sister. She returned her attention to cutting up the roast beef, then browned the cubes in butter. When that was done, she added two large onions, canned carrots from last year's family garden, and the seasonings. She'd made the meal so many times, there was no need for a recipe. All the while, she wondered what Eben's favorite meals were. Joanna could scarcely wait to learn all there was to know about him!

Her father's intense gray eyes were fixed on the steaming bowl of stew Joanna set before him, though he characteristically said nary a word. He leaned his tall frame against the chair at the head of the table, and the four of them offered the silent table blessing. They enjoyed the hearty meal, complete with cottage cheese, fresh-baked bread, and Mamma's wonderful apple butter. For dessert, Joanna served the rest of a pumpkin pie Mamma had baked yesterday afternoon following the wedding.

Cora Jane ate without making a peep. Dat didn't say much, either—generally he said little unless he had good reason. Mamma, for her part, tried to make small talk, mostly about the cold weather and the coming snow. Joanna cherished her own private thoughts as she spooned up the delicious stew, relieved in a way that Cora Jane wasn't as talkative as usual.

Looking around the largely empty table, Joanna tried to picture Eben sitting there. Could
he
manage to get Dat talking during dinner? Very few folk could. Not even Michael Hostetler down Hickory Lane, their neighbors' genial son, who until recently had worked part-time for Dat.

“We have a few more weddings comin' up in the next two weeks,” Mamma said.

Joanna nodded. “Have ya decided which cousin's wedding to attend next Thursday?”

“Ach, two weddings in the family on the selfsame day,” Mamma said, shaking her head. “Happens too often, jah? Lena and Ruthann—such a hard choice to make.”

Cora Jane didn't bother to look up, and Dat would leave the decision to Mamma.
Poor Mamma,
thought Joanna.

“Which wedding will Salina go to?” Joanna asked. Salina was the only married daughter in the family and already a mother to three young children. The rest of Joanna and Cora Jane's siblings were boys, all married with youngsters of their own.

Mamma's face lit up. “Now, why didn't
I
think of that? I'll ask her this afternoon.”

Joanna wasn't surprised. After all, Salina stopped in quite often. So then it was settled: They would go to whichever wedding Salina chose.

Weddings abound
, thought Joanna, taking another bite of pie while avoiding Cora Jane's impudent stare.

When the clouds lowered during supper that evening and a tremendous wind came up, gusting snow, Joanna knew she was in for a challenge getting out to the phone shanty several acres away. The white-out conditions were hazardous—some farmers were known to tie a rope to the house and their own hand just to go out to the barn and back in such conditions.

She hoped the snowstorm was short-lived and done by the time she needed to get to the phone. How she yearned for the lovely months of summer, when their closest neighbors could easily wander over for some watermelon or homemade ice cream and a back porch visit, or the other way around. Mamma, for instance, hadn't been over to see Ella Mae Zook or even Rachel Stoltzfus, the bishop's mother-in-law, in weeks. Joanna missed all the impromptu conversation at the end of the long day, as well as the sight of green leaves and blossoming flowers.

Joanna had never quite forgotten the impression she'd had of Ella Mae when Mamma had taken her along for tea with the Wise Woman. It was years before Ella Mae's husband passed away, when Joanna was but four and Ella Mae was still living in the farmhouse a mile or so away. Joanna couldn't help but feel comfortable in the sun-drenched kitchen so similar to Mamma's own. She'd sat across from Mamma on a wooden chair with a mound of pillows tucked beneath her, a little yellow daisy teacup and saucer set before her filled with peppermint tea.

Mamma and Ella Mae sat sipping and chatting on the other side of the table while Joanna picked up her spoon and began to stir, looking at the murky hot water.

“Here, dearie,” Ella Mae said, rising just then and going to her old icebox to get a jar of real whipped cream. “This'll make your first cup of tea extra yummy.” With a twinkle in her eye, Ella Mae put a dollop of the sweet white cream atop Joanna's tea. Mamma's eyes widened when Ella Mae encouraged Joanna to stick her little pointer finger in the whipped cream and lick it off.

Even then, Joanna had wondered how a woman that old could have possibly known what a child was thinking. Then and there, she sensed something special about this lady the People called wise, whose sincere and welcoming manner—and specially brewed tea—drew people like bees to roses. Particularly women who needed a caring friend and a listening ear.

Joanna smiled with the dear memory as she drew hot water after supper dishes were cleared from the table. She squirted an ample amount of dish soap into the water and swished it around. Cora Jane came over, jerked the tea towel off the rack, and stood stiff and uncommunicative, waiting to dry the dishes. Joanna sighed inwardly and listened to see if the wind outdoors might be dying down some. Less than an hour and a half left before she needed to make her trek out to the phone shack for the seven o'clock call.

When the kitchen was all redd up, Mamma suggested the three of them make chocolate chip cookies for the upcoming weekend. Cora Jane brightened immediately, voting to make snickerdoodles, her very favorite. Joanna agreed to help, knowing she'd have to watch the clock, as well as find a way to leave gracefully without raising eyebrows.

Going over to preheat the gas oven, Joanna noticed Dat get up from his chair near the heat stove and wander out to the utility room. Mamma followed, asking where he was going in such weather.

“Want to check on the livestock . . . see how the newest calves are doin'.”

Her father opened the back door, and Joanna could see that the wind was not as fierce as before. And when it was time to place the cookie sheets into the oven, Mamma slipped away to the sitting room and Cora Jane went upstairs. Joanna breathed a sigh of relief.

It's now or never!
She made haste to don her warmest coat, boots, woolen scarf, and gloves. Then, lickety-split, she put on her black candlesnuffer-style outer bonnet and left the house.

E
ben Troyer headed through the cold toward Peaceful Acres Lane wearing his old work boots and black felt hat, as well as his father's dark blue muffler. The frosty air stung his cheeks and nose, and he could smell the smoke from the new woodstove he and
Daed
had installed in the barn just a few days ago.
In time for the turn in weather.
He'd spent a good part of the day stacking hay in the loft and, later, hooking up the horse's water tank to the generator to keep it from freezing.

The rickety phone hut was a half mile from his father's farmhouse, not far enough away to warrant hitching up the horse and carriage. He had been counting the days till he talked to Joanna, and judging from the way she'd responded in her letter about their conversation tonight, he presumed she was equally excited.
A phone date, of all things!

As he approached the shanty, he noticed his father's older brother, Solomon, standing inside and talking by lantern light. Sol's hands were moving to beat the band, which was the way he always talked.

Didn't expect this
, Eben thought, searching for his pocket watch. Unable to see it, he pulled out his flashlight but then thought better of turning it on. He certainly didn't want to call attention to himself, not with talkative Uncle Solomon nearby.

So Eben hung back in the trees, waiting his turn and hearing the
clip-clop
ping of horses' hooves in the distance. Who would've guessed the weather would sour like this on the very night he'd chosen to phone Joanna. He could only imagine what it was like in Hickory Hollow.

Growing colder by the minute, he wondered how much longer his uncle would be and wished he'd worn heavier gloves. Even so, he'd wait all night if it meant hearing Joanna's sweet voice again.

He removed her letter, folded with the phone number face up. It was to some extent amusing that of all the girls he might have fallen for, Joanna Kurtz happened to live in another state. But there was no doubt in his mind she was worth any amount of distance. And as pretty and thoughtful as she was, it had initially puzzled him as to why Joanna was still single.

Has God kept her just for me?
The thought was encouraging as Eben waited for Uncle Sol to complete his call, which it appeared he was doing just now. Sol hung up the receiver and opened the wooden door, then closed it right quick. But he'd forgotten his lantern and had to step back inside to retrieve it before leaving again.

I'll wait just a bit.
Eben watched his uncle amble across the field toward his farmhouse. Then, lest someone else wander along to use the phone, Eben flicked on his flashlight and made his way into the shanty, his pulse quickening. After exchanging letters as their only means of communication since this past summer, he was certain this wintry night was about to warm up in a very big way.

———

Joanna shivered as she stood inside the narrow shed, holding her breath for the phone to ring. The light from her small flashlight began to dim, and she wished she'd put in new batteries before leaving the house.

Despite the weather, she'd arrived a few minutes before the designated time. After all, it would be a shame to have missed Eben's call. But now that she was here and the hour had passed, she wondered if something had come up on his end, maybe, to keep him from getting to the phone.

It was snowing harder, and the wind blew through the openings around the door. All the little cracks in the shanty that helped keep the place cool on the hottest days of summer made it downright frigid now.

Just when she was beginning to think he might not call after all, the phone rang. Joanna let it ring twice, so as not to appear too eager. “Hullo?” she answered, feeling terribly shy.

“Joanna?”

“Jah. Is this Eben?”

“It's so
gut
to hear your voice.”

“Yours too.”

“I'm sorry it's a little later than I'd planned, but it couldn't be helped.” He explained that the phone had been tied up. “You just never know with these community telephones.”

“That's all right.” It was such fun hearing him, and he sounded so happy to talk to her. She wanted to flutter around; it was all she could do to stand still.

“Our neighbors to the north have a phone installed in their barn, but so far my father will have nothing to do with that.”

She mentioned that some of the youth there in Hickory Hollow had cell phones. “And so do a few folk who work away from the farm.”

“What do you think of that?” he asked.

“Ain't for me: I'm baptized.”

He agreed, sounding somewhat relieved. “My bishop only permits them for business use,” he said. “But how's it possible to enforce?”

She nodded, then laughed because he couldn't see her.

“Ach, you laugh just the way I remember,” Eben said. “How've ya been, Joanna?”

“Real
gut
, and you?”

“Oh, just fine. Keepin' mighty busy here.”

She loved listening to his voice, but was still curious as to why he'd wanted to call.

One thing led to another, and soon they fell easily into talking about their weeks. Then he surprised her by asking, “Would it suit for me to come visit, say, next week sometime?”

Joanna was elated. “Why, sure . . . what day are ya thinkin'?”

“Thursday or Friday, either one.”

“Well, we have a wedding on Thursday, so Friday would be better.”

“All right, then. I'll ride out with a Mennonite van driver who makes regular trips between here and Lancaster. I'll grab a cab from there. It'll be about ten hours to get to your place.”

“Such a distance! How long can ya stay?” she asked, her heart thumping hard.

“Just overnight. Then I'll have to head back the next afternoon.” He mentioned needing to get someone to cover his farm work.

“So do your parents know, then . . . 'bout us?”

“I plan to tell them in due time.”

She smiled. “I haven't told anyone here, either. We still keep a bit quiet 'bout such things.”

“We don't as much anymore here, but I wanted to wait to say anything till a few more things are worked out.”

She wondered what things he meant. “You'll need a place to stay.”

“If that's all right. Whatever's best for you and your family, Joanna.”

Oh, she loved it when he said her name! “I'll see if you can stay with our neighbors, the Stoltzfuses. That is, if you're comfortable having the bishop's in-laws suspect you're here to see me.”

He chuckled. “Sounds wonderful-
gut.
” Pausing, he continued, “I'd like to meet your parents, too.”

Her heart leaped at the thought.
Oh, praise be!
This was getting serious! “All right.”

A gust of wind suddenly pounded against the door.

“Sounds like a windstorm there,” Eben said.

“Practically a blizzard.”

“Will you be all right getting back to the house?” There was concern in his voice.

“I haven't far to go and I'm all bundled up, so no worries.”

“Well, don't get chilled.”

“I'll be quite fine, Eben,” she said, not wanting to hang up just yet.

“Can't have my girl catching her death of cold,” he added softly.

My girl . . .

Oh, Eben
, she thought, shivering now with something more pleasant than cold.

“Say, I have an idea. What if we talked by phone like this every so often? We could set a regular time. Would ya like that?”

Would she? “Sounds ever so nice,” she said, hoping her voice sounded calmer than she felt. It was happening at last . . . and just as she'd hoped. Surely he was planning to court her in earnest!

Then they were discussing several things they might do together during his short visit, and Joanna said she hoped things might warm up. “But ya never know this time of year.”

“True, but no matter what, we'll get better acquainted, which is why I'm comin'. That and to meet your family.”

She smiled into the phone. “I look forward to it.”

“Jah . . .”

She could tell Eben was every bit as reluctant to hang up as she was. Eventually, though, she had to tell him she was afraid her flashlight was going to conk out.

“All right, then, I'll let you go.” He said he'd write to let her know what time to expect him on Friday. “I hope to get an early enough start so I can arrive sometime in the afternoon.”

“I'll see ya soon,” she said.

“Until then,” he said. “Good-bye, Joanna.”

“Good-bye.” Slowly she placed the receiver back in its cradle.

The flashlight dimmed, and she picked it up. She opened the shanty door and ran through the snow, hoping to get home before the light sputtered out completely. Still enraptured by the
wunnerbaar-gut
phone visit, Joanna scarcely minded the wind and cold.

Eben's coming to see me!