The Longing (14 page)
Thank goodness neither asked what she thought of Emma Sue
.
It was all Rosanna could do to sit still and not suggest that they turn back.
Even so, she’d come this far. Why not go ahead and meet the others?
By noon, Rosanna was all in. She wanted to be more grateful, or at least show it. But she felt sad as they pulled into the lane where Rosie Miller lived.
Rosie met them at the door. The thoughtful yet rather outspoken woman had already been blessed with eight children, four boys and four girls. With another baby on the way—the little one she was willing to give to Rosanna and Elias—her home would certainly be full. Treva pointed out how interesting it was that her name fit so well with Rosanna’s, evidently forgetting that Rosie was also the name of the baby girl whom Rosanna had dearly loved.
But Rosanna wouldn’t allow herself to make an emotional connection between the adult Rosie and the baby she missed so much that she sometimes awakened in the night, her face wet with tears.
Yet something didn’t set well with Rosanna about this Rosie. Perhaps it was her too-aggressive way. She worried Rosie’s baby might have a similar temperament, when what she desired was a tender-hearted child. Something she knew Elias would cherish in a little one, as well.
The third mother-to-be, Lena Stoltzfus, was a quilting friend of Nellie’s grandmother Hannah Fisher, who also lived nearby. Rosanna wished there might be time to stop in and visit with Nellie’s Dawdi and Mammi. Lena’s connection to Nellie Mae’s family immediately caught Rosanna’s interest, and she hung on to the woman’s every word.
Lena’s face glowed as she spoke of “the Lord’s guiding hand,” and Rosanna wondered if she was trying to say that God had impressed on her to have a baby for Rosanna, just as Cousin Kate had claimed. With the memory of that still too fresh, Rosanna became increasingly tense. Lena was not as young as either Rosie or Emma Sue, and she wanted to know that this baby—her seventh—would be “raised up in the knowledge of the Lord.” At that, Treva let out a little gasp, and Rosanna nodded quickly in agreement.
On the buggy ride back to Treva’s parents’ house, where Rosanna and Nellie Mae were to meet their driver, Rosanna thanked Treva. “I appreciate you so much.”
“Glad to be of help.” Treva smiled. “If anything gut should come of it.”
When they arrived at the house, they waited inside for the driver, sitting at the kitchen table while Treva’s mother poured a glass of lemonade for them.
“If I might be so bold, do you have a preference out of the three?” Treva asked.
Rosanna didn’t want to appear ungrateful. “I need time to ponder the day,” she managed to say.
And more time to grieve over Eli and Rosie . . . and my own sweet babe right here,
she thought, letting her hands rest on her lap. “All this has come up so fast, ya know.”
“Well, sure it has,” replied Treva, looking somewhat disappointed. No doubt she’d hoped to be involved in making things better for Nellie’s friend.
Nellie Mae spoke up. “It’s such a big decision after all you’ve been through.”
Rosanna reached for her lemonade. “Nearly too much just now.” She suddenly felt like she was slipping away, like she wasn’t actually here in the flesh.
Or maybe I only wish it.
“No one’s sayin’ you have to decide today,” Treva said, glancing now at Nellie Mae.
“Given Rosanna’s recent heartache, why don’t we let all this settle for now?” Nellie Mae suggested.
Treva seemed to understand, slowly nodding her head. Then Treva and her mother began to discuss quilting bees, asking Nellie Mae when she’d be attending the next one in Honey Brook.
Not feeling very sociable, Rosanna merely listened and was glad when she heard the driver pull into the lane.
“You’ve gone
ferhoodled
, Ken!” Rhoda let the word slip; then, eyes wide, she clapped her hand over her mouth. Leaning back in her chair, she smiled apologetically across the table. “Ach, I didn’t mean it.”
Ken leaned forward, blue eyes soft in the candlelight. “What did you say?”
She laughed a little and wiped her mouth with the napkin, attempting to compose herself. Dare she say he was both crazy and mixed-up? After all, he’d just poked fun at her wonderful secret—her dream to travel one day—adding he had no intention of ever hopping a plane himself. “What’s so wrong about wanting to fly in an airplane?” she asked.
“Don’t get me wrong.” He paused, regarding her with a bemused smile. “You just don’t seem, well . . . like a jet-setter to me.”
“That’s precisely why I want to, though. Don’t you see?”
“But why not be yourself instead?”
“Well, I am. This is who I
want
to be.”
Though a far cry from who I was raised to be.
“You know, my bishop uncle would call me hell-bent for wanting to fly.”
He squinted across the table. “Seems rather disapproving.”
“Some might think so.” More and more she believed that much of what the bishop said—and some of the preachers, too—was hard to take. Not so much what Preacher Manny had shared from
his
heart, though—those sermons, for some reason, had struck a chord in her. But she didn’t want to talk about church, since Ken wasn’t interested. And, too, she didn’t want to spoil their time together—this special dinner, complete with candles. Just what was her boyfriend up to?
“So, are you going to tell me what ferhoodled is?” He winked, and her heart felt like it might melt.
“What’s it sound like?”
“All mixed-up?”
“Sure. That’s it, then,” she teased.
He rose and went to her, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. “I’m mixed-up, all right. You do that to me, I’ll admit.”
She smiled, enjoying the attention she’d come to expect.
He glanced at her hair again. “You look so different, Rhoda,” he whispered, reaching up to touch it.
“You like it, then?”
“It’s pretty . . . so smooth—like silk.”
They laughed together. Then he cupped her face in his hands. “You’re perfect, Rhoda . . . just the way you are.”
Reluctantly she pulled away, unsure how to respond. Should she say he was the most handsome fellow she’d ever known?
He surprised her by speaking first. “If you’d like to see the room for rent, I’ll show you now.”
“Oh . . . all right.” But her heart sank a little. Did he want her to rent from him instead of thinking ahead to marriage?
“The tenant’s gone for the evening. We’ll just take a look, if you’d like.”
“You sure it’s all right?”
“He knows I need to find another renter.”
Ken slipped his arm around her waist, and they walked down the hallway to the long, gleaming staircase to the second floor.
Mammi Hannah had seemed so delighted to see them, she’d talked Nellie Mae and Rosanna into staying for supper, much longer than they’d intended. Thanks to the community phone booth, Rosanna had managed to reach nearby neighbor Linda Fisher, Jonathan’s wife, who was glad to tell Elias she’d be home after supper.
Rosanna relaxed a bit as she enjoyed the tasty beef stroganoff and buttered peas, warm dinner rolls with strawberry-rhubarb jam, and applesauce cake. Mammi Hannah gladly shared her recipes with Nellie while they lingered at the table over coffee and second helpings. Meanwhile, their driver had other folk to pick up, so it worked out for him to return later.
“Sure was surprising to hear of David Yoder’s accident,” Dawdi Noah said, stirring sugar into his coffee. “But a body never can tell what’s ahead.”
Nellie Mae nodded.
“Such a sad thing ’tis.” Mammi shook her head.
“Well, David’s a fighter, no question on that,” Dawdi said, his beard twitching. “He might just surprise everyone and walk again . . . who’s to say?”
Nellie knew that what distressed her grandparents most wasn’t David Yoder’s paralysis—it was the choice her parents had made to join the new church. This was the reason they were living clear over in Bird-in-Hand instead of next door in her parents’ Dawdi Haus, as planned. She hoped something she might say, or do, would make them think twice about the religious stir in several areas of Lancaster County, and in other states, too. Some called it a “move of God.” Others shook their heads in utter confusion, like Dawdi and Mammi. She hoped they’d soon know the amazing things she and her family—and many others—were learning from scripture and from the pertinent sermons preached each Lord’s Day.
“Lots of prayers are goin’ up for David Yoder,” Nellie said softly. “Healing for his body, for one thing . . . and his spiritual healing, too.”
This brought an immediate hush to the table.
Nellie felt a sudden boldness. “If the truth were known, David Yoder just might be pondering, deep down, all the talk of a personal relationship with the Lord. Lots of folk seem hungry for it.”
“Now, now, Nellie Mae.” Dawdi’s eyes pierced hers.
“I’m serious,” she continued. “Why squelch the questions . . . the longing?”
“How’s your sister Rhoda doin’?” asked Mammi. The effect of her grandmother’s stroke was still evident in her slightly slurred speech.
Nellie knew she was being shushed in a kind sort of way, but Rhoda was not the most pleasant subject. “I don’t know much about her these days.”
Both Dawdi and Mammi nodded.
Surely they’ve heard she’s living with James and Martha. . . .
“We saw Mrs. Kraybill the other day over at the General Store. She mentioned something about her nephew and Rhoda. Sounds like your sister has an English beau.” Dawdi set down his spoon and folded his knobby hands over his coffee cup. “First Suzy, now Rhoda?”
Feeling awkward, Nellie looked at Rosanna and sighed. None of this was a secret. “Rhoda’s finding her wings, I daresay. But Suzy . . . well, honestly, she found hers in the Lord Jesus.” She began to recite some of Suzy’s favorite Scripture verses, sharing the things Suzy had prayed about . . . all of it. When she was finished, Mammi’s eyes were moist, but Dawdi seemed unaffected.
“No one’s ever mentioned this side of things ’bout your sister,” Mammi said. “I just don’t know what to think.”
Rosanna nodded. “Suzy was in love with the Lord, that’s for sure.”
Dawdi frowned, his brow knitted tightly under his thinning bangs. “Talkin’ like that about the Almighty? Ach, that’s
unsinnich—
senseless!” He shook his head.
“I used
to feel the same way, Dawdi,” Nellie dared to say. “But now I see that the truth is set before us . . . in God’s Word. It’s impossible to turn away.”
At least for some . . .
Her heart broke to see her grandparents struggle so with the whys and wherefores.
Rosanna reached for Nellie’s hand. “Elias and I, too, believe we have been saved by the grace of the Lord.” Tears glistened in her friend’s eyes. “You can be, too.”
Dawdi frowned, and Mammi mumbled under her breath.
Verses Nellie had memorized sprang to mind, but now was not the time to speak them. The resistance was ever so strong here, where the old church still reigned.
“This is one of the largest bedrooms in the house.” Ken pointed to the high ceiling as Rhoda stood beside him in the doorway, peering in, conscious of Ken’s arm around her. “The windows face the southeast, so if you have indoor plants, they’ll do nicely along that wall.” He motioned to the windows, draped in a tweedy gold fabric. The views of Strasburg were nearly as lovely as those from Ken’s upstairs suite.
Rhoda attempted to place herself in the room in her mind, wondering how it might be to wake up here each morning, knowing Ken was living on the floor above her. Would she hear his footsteps early and late, be aware of his comings and goings? The modern space was so different from the farmhouse where she presently resided with James’s family. She thought of her darling niece and nephews.
I’d miss them so much if I moved here.
Ken looked at her. “So, what do you think?”
“It’s nice and roomy.” She couldn’t help admiring the present tenant’s arrangement of furniture.
“Don’t forget there’s a private bath—with a tub and a shower.”
The television in the corner caught her curiosity. How exciting it would be to own one.
Someday,
she thought, looking now at the pretty pole lamp and other pieces of furniture. Would she develop a style of her own? Since she didn’t have many things, she’d have to invest in a bed and a chest of drawers, as well as a small sofa or love seat to entertain guests.
Will Ken visit me here?
Sighing, she stepped back. She’d had her heart set on living upstairs with Ken as his bride, sharing the larger space of rooms. She mustn’t let on how disappointed she felt, or she would seem presumptuous.
“When the room’s vacant, you’re welcome to see it again. Maybe by then you’ll have a better handle on what you’d like to do.” He closed the door, locking it with his master key.
If they married, would they ever have the entire house for themselves, for their growing family?
It was then she realized he’d never talked of having children. Was he as fond of them as she? There hadn’t been any playful times with the Kraybill children—Ken’s own young cousins—that first night she’d met him for dinner there. No talk of them from his perspective, either.
He reached for her hand when they came to the landing at the top of the long flight of stairs. “I’ll pour us some after-dinner wine to go with the surprise dessert,” he said. “Would you like that?”
Wine . . . during dinner and after?
Well, who was she to interfere? This was Ken’s way, and she welcomed even the most foreign aspects.
“Do you accept tenants with young children?” she asked as he pulled out a chair for her at his table. The dining room seemed too dark, and she smiled when he pressed the dimmer switch and raised the light a bit before lighting the candles once again.
“There.” Stepping back, he smiled. “Much better.” He went to the kitchen, where he pulled out two dessert plates and two small glasses. “What was the question?”
“Are children welcome here?”
He grimaced. “Dogs and kids are liabilities for investment properties.”
“What do you mean—a liability?” she asked.
