The Memory Jar (32 page)

“I understand.” Sarah nodded. “I was jest trying to help. I have all these ideas. How rude I’ve been to come in and make these changes without really understanding.” She swallowed hard. “Do you want me to stop making the cupcakes? Is that what you want?”

Mem
Schrock shook her head. “
ne
. There’s no need for that. Jest please try to understand, will ya? Can you consider, dear Sarah, our side too?”

Sarah went through her day like any other, but on the inside she began to understand. She didn’t need to prove herself right. She was right … and
Mem
Schrock was too. Just because they were different didn’t mean either was wrong. They both served God and their neighbors, just in different ways. The problem
wasn’t trying to change the other’s mind, but how they could come together — benefit each other.

Lord, give me the wisdom to be giving, yet understanding too. I want to serve you in the way you desire. If yer desires match mine, then
gut.
If not, help me to release my desires — release my dream
.

The prayer hadn’t flowed through Sarah’s mind two minutes prior when an elderly Amish woman shuffled into the bakery and sat in a chair at one of the small cafe tables. The woman’s eyes were fixed on Sarah. Her white eyebrows folded down. The shop was busy this morning, mostly
Englischers
ordering Sarah’s cupcakes. When the crowd slowed, the woman was still sitting there, eyeing the cupcakes. Sarah took one, placed it on a plate, and carried it over to the woman.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you. It’s busy today.” Sarah smiled.

The woman fiddled with her
kapp
string. “Humph. Yer not from around here.”

“
ne
, I’m not. I was born in Kentucky, but I don’t remember living there very well. I’ve lived in Montana since I was eight.”

“In the Rexford community?”

“
Ja
, in the West Kootenai. Rexford is right across the lake.”

“Humph.” The woman focused on Sarah’s face. She refused to look at the cupcake on the plate. “You don’t know how things work here.”

Sarah’s heart pounded, and she felt as if her feet were not on the wooden floorboards but sunken into them. Her feet felt heavy. Her heart did too. She didn’t know what to say. Sarah sat down in the chair across from the woman. She sent up a silent prayer for wisdom. She sure needed it.

“I’m sure you know all about how things are in these parts. How things used to be,” Sarah finally said.

The woman jutted out her chin. “
Ja
, I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Do you remember then a time before the roads were paved?” Sarah asked.

“All mud and dirt.” The woman waved a hand in the air. “In the winter, the hens didn’t lay well, and we ate corn mush and ground wheat. I can’t believe Amish women today buy store-bought cereal. Everything’s fancy these days.” She glanced at the cupcake. “There were no tops for buggies and most people hooked up their workhorses. None of these fancy horses jest for the buggies. I sold my eggs for thirty cents a dozen.”

“And the clothes? Are they much different?”

“We didn’t have Sunday shoes, and in the summer, the
kinner
ran around barefoot. I often didn’t have shoes either — not until the snow came.”

Sarah wrapped her arms tight around herself. “Weren’t yer feet cold?”

“
Ja
, but on cold mornings, when I went to the barn, I let the cows out and then went and stood where they’d been lying.”

“Did you ever go stand in a fresh manure pile to warm yer feet?” Sarah asked.

The woman’s eyes widened, and Sarah wished she could take back her words.

The woman leaned in close to Sarah’s ears. “
Ja
, how did you know?”

“My
oma
told me she used to do the same thing.
Ach
, I’m so thankful for socks and shoes.”

Laughter slipped through the woman’s lips. “Yer the first one I’ve confessed that to. Then again, no one’s asked.

“Things have changed so much. Life around here used to be simple. Now it’s not at all. With so many cars and
Englisch
folks, seems we’re doing more and more to make things pretty-like for them. Seems we’re getting too concerned with working to please people rather than God.”

The elderly woman glanced down at the cupcake and then looked around the room. For the past few weeks, Sarah had been having so much fun with her creations she didn’t realize how the treat looked to others. Blue frosting, pink swirls, yellow flower petals. To Sarah, it captured nature, God’s creation. But to this older woman, it was simply another change. Another way her simple community was turning to fancy things.

Sarah rose and picked up the plate. “I’ll be right back.”

She hurried to the kitchen. She walked straight to the vanilla-bean cupcakes on the cooling rack. With a half-smile, she picked up the chocolate frosting in the decorating bag. Starting on an outside edge, she swirled the frosting around on the cupcake until it rose in a swirl in the middle. Satisfied, she returned to the elderly lady and placed it before her.

The woman eyed it curiously. “What’s this?”

“I’d like to call it a cow-pie cupcake. It may look like the real thing, but I guarantee you’ll be pleasantly surprised when you bite into it.”

The folds that surrounded the woman’s eyes faded as her eyes brightened. Laughter split the air — a big belly laugh that Sarah hadn’t heard in these parts until now. All eyes turned in their direction. The older woman continued to laugh until tears ran down her face. Sarah’s laughter joined hers.

Gasping for breath, the woman wiped away tears that rolled down her cheeks, then, with a twinkle in her eye, she picked up the cupcake and took a big bite. Her lips curled up in a smile, and she finished off the rest of it in less than thirty seconds.

The elderly woman was dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin when a young woman walked in. She ignored
Sarah and focused on the older Amish woman. “
Mem
, my shopping is done. Are you ready to head home now? I know it’s been a long day fer you already.”

“I’m almost ready, dear.” The woman covered her mouth with her hand and her shoulders rose up and down, trembling. “I — I jest want you to try the cow pie first.” Laughter spilled from her lips like before, and she motioned toward the kitchen. Sarah nodded, then she rose. She glanced at the woman’s daughter and shrugged. How could she explain?

In the kitchen, she frosted another cow-pie cupcake and returned, placing it before the daughter. The daughter didn’t seem to understand, but she smiled and took a bite anyway. Her face glowed at the taste.

“Why, I do believe this is the best cupcake I’ve ever eaten.” Then she stepped closer to Sarah. “But you do have to excuse my mother. She does get her words mixed up sometimes. I’m sorry she called yer cupcake a cow pie. I’ll have to talk to her on the ride home.”

Sarah was about to explain when the jingle of the bell on the front door interrupted her thoughts. Jathan entered with a long stride, and he didn’t look happy. Instead of approaching Sarah, he moved to his mother. “Yonnie said to come. Said you need to talk to me.”

Mem
Schrock put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you have the buggy?” she asked.

Jathan nodded.

“
Gut
, then we need to go fer a ride. There is something I need to talk to you about. Something fer yer ears alone.”

J
athan’s shoulders tightened in knots. His head ached, mostly because he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah. Couldn’t forget the disappointment he saw on her face every time he looked at her lately. He loved her, really he did, but how could he turn his back on his family? They needed him. Wasn’t his role as an Amish man and a follower of God to see their needs met? He saw no way to do both — to love Sarah with everything in him and serve his family too.

He helped his mother into the buggy and the two slips of paper in his pocket seemed to burn through the fabric. The first was a check from the piece of furniture he’d delivered earlier today. It was something, but not enough — never enough.

The second was a letter from the businessman in New York asking when they’d be able to reschedule their meeting. Jathan knew that would be impossible now. He barely had time to buy supplies for the bakery. How had he ever thought he could manage a bigger project like shipping items to New York?

Earlier, when Jathan had gone to pick up the end table for
the delivery, he’d seen that Yonnie wasn’t working. Instead, he was cleaning up the already-perfectly organized work area.

“
Mem
said to send you to the bakery when you were done with the morning chores.”

Jathan glanced in the direction of the
dawdi
house. “Is it
Dat
? Is something wrong?”

“
ne
. Nothing like that. It’s about the bakery,” Yonnie had said. “It’s about Sarah.”

Now
Mem
sat in the front seat of the buggy next to Jathan.

Mem
cleared her throat and readjusted in her seat. “There’s been a change of plans. Yonnie has been offered a job in Sugar-creek. He’ll be working at a furniture shop there and a home will be provided fer his family. It’s much larger than their place now.”

Jathan tried to process the information. “What does that mean for me?”

“Well, instead of helping in the bakery at all, we need you to work in the woodshop. There are orders that need to be filled.”

“
Mem
, that’s not possible. You’ll not be able to handle the bakery on yer own. With all the new customers … yer not going to be able to keep up.”

“We know.”

“So are you going to hire someone else?”

“Ne.”
Mem let out a heavy sigh, and Jathan could see all of her sixty years in her worried, wrinkled face. “I’ve been talking with Kay. We want to keep things as they are. No, more than that. We want things to go back to the way they used to be. We didn’t make a lot of money, but we enjoyed our time together.” His mother released a sigh. “I didn’t know how much I wanted things to stay the same … until they began to change. Jathan,
I hate to do this, but you need to tell Sarah that we want her to find another place to work.”

“Jest like that?”

“It can be no other way, Jathan. You haven’t been to see him in a few days, but yer
Dat
has been trying to talk. The nurse came and said the words should start coming faster.” She covered her face with her hands. “It’s fer yer own good too. I don’t want you hurt again. He has his own mind, you know. Always has.”

Sarah expected Jathan to be waiting outside the bakery when she got off work. Surely he wouldn’t just leave her full of questions and empty of answers. But he hadn’t been there.

She hoped he’d come to her aunt’s house in the afternoon, but he didn’t.

Every one of her nerves tensed up during dinner.

After dinner, her uncle, aunt, and cousins walked to the pond down the road to skip rocks. She declined their offer to join them. Her aunt must have sensed Sarah’s tension and didn’t press.

Sarah had been tense since the moment Jathan and his mother had driven away in the buggy. From the look on his mother’s face, Sarah guessed the news wasn’t good.

Having given up on seeing him this evening, Sarah jumped when a knock sounded on the front door. She hurried to open it.

Jathan’s face was pale. His eyes red. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Ja.”
She followed him outside.

Instead of sitting on the porch swing, Sarah moved to the
porch railing and leaned against it. After taking a big breath, she turned to face Jathan.

“I need to talk to you, Sarah,” he said. “My
Mem
and some of the other women, well, they’ve been talking.”

“Did they tell you about the sweet old couple from Pitsburg who came by?” She pushed the words out of her mouth, pretending all was well and today was just a normal day. “They loved the cupcakes so much they put in an order for next Monday for their granddaughter’s birthday. They are going to drive all the way back here to pick it up. Can you imagine driving three hours each way jest for cupcakes?”

Jathan was silent. He lowered his head and, from the way his shoulders slumped, it looked as if he had an invisible buggy parked on top of him.

Sarah’s heart sank. She leaned forward and took Jathan’s large hands within her smaller ones. “That’s not what they talked to you about, is it?”

“Ne.”
He pulled his hands from hers and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to say it any better … it’s jest they feel we’ve been trying to force the bakery into something it’s not. My
Mem
and aunt think it might be wise for you to find another place to work.”

Sarah jerked her head back as if he’d just thrown a glass of cold water into her face. “So that’s it? They … they don’t want me.”

“It’s not that. They care for you much.
Mem
wanted to make sure you knew that. She jest wants the bakery to go back to the simple way it was.” Tears rimmed his eyes. “There are many bakeries in town and in the neighboring communities.”

She touched his hand, but it felt cold, lifeless, under her fingertips. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t think there’s another choice.”

“No other choice? Really, Jathan? I thought you’d be able to figure out some way to help me. I thought you’d be on my side here. If I can continue to gain customers, we can expand. Don’t you think that could help yer family?” She let her voice trail off.

Jathan lowered his head, and she understood. Sarah’s lower lip trembled and an ache penetrated her chest. He wasn’t going to fight for her.

“There is nothing I can offer you,” he finally said. “There will be no bakery fer you to work in. And as fer me —” he set his jaw —”I’ll be working at the workshop, filling orders. I may be slow, but I’m better than nothing.”

“That’s it?” She clasped her hands together and pulled them to her chin.

He nodded. She could see pain in his eyes — pain from hurting her — but obviously it wasn’t enough to make a difference.