The Parting (10 page)
“Jah, ’spect so.” Nellie frowned, glancing out the window.
“Aren’t we all?”
Rosanna leaned on the display case. “Ach, are you all right, Nellie Mae?”
She didn’t want to gossip, but she figured Rosanna had no idea of the bishop’s plan to travel to Iowa. “Oh, I’m doin’ fine, jah.”
“Well, you don’t look it, if I may be so bold.”
Nellie brushed off her apron and eyed her friend. “What’s a-matter with me?”
Rosanna came around behind the counter to her. “Didn’t mean any harm. You just don’t seem yourself.”
“Well,
who,
then?”
To this, they both chuckled. And because she was not about to share any news that might upset either Rosanna or Rhoda, who was surely listening in even though she feigned busyness at the far end of the counter, Nellie kept to herself what she knew of Uncle Bishop and her aunt’s trip.
Switching the subject, she asked, “Who else knows?”
“Only Elias and our parents. That’s all for now.” Rosanna nodded her head toward Rhoda. “So if you don’t mind . . .”
“That’s fine,” Nellie agreed, waving good-bye to Rosanna, who said her farewells and left the shop.
Upon her absence, Rhoda eyed Nellie closely. “Please don’t even ask me,” Nellie blurted.
“Well, aren’t
you
peeved,” Rhoda shot back.
Nellie sighed. “I ’spect Mamma has pulled the last of my bread from the oven by now. I’ll be back in a bit.” Heading out the door, she decided to take the longed-for detour to the meadow, not caring for the moment that doing so might make Rhoda late for her job.
Oh, how I do wish Dat would allow Mamma to mind the store again
.
Lifting her skirt, Nellie ran through the nearby pastureland, all the way out to the vast meadow on the easternmost side of her father’s land.
Let Rhoda see what it’s like to be inconvenienced for once,
she thought. Her eldest sister had never been one to offer a helping hand—not without Dat’s encouragement. Rhoda frequently didn’t come home for supper, let alone help to prepare it, and she’d slip out of the house and be gone all day when her sisters and Mamma needed help getting the house ready for Preaching service when their turn to host came around. And if the bakery shop needed a thorough cleaning, Rhoda usually made herself scarce then, too.
No matter Rhoda’s tendency to selfishness, Nellie didn’t see her getting in over her head the way Suzy had with her English friends. For one, Rhoda didn’t seem to have any suitors. No, as far as she knew, Rhoda was getting mighty close to being passed over by the young men in the district—twenty-one was nearly past courting age. Even without a beau, she ought to take baptismal instruction next year and join church.
Someone else hadn’t joined church yet, either, although he was much younger than Rhoda. Caleb was holding off, which was interesting, especially the way he’d talked last Sunday. Why hadn’t he planned to take the baptismal vow with the rest of the candidates in a few weeks? The day would surely come when she would be doing the same thing herself.
She shivered happily at the memory of speaking with Caleb yesterday. After months of waiting,
she
would be the girl to win Caleb’s heart. Or so she hoped.
She couldn’t help but smile as she strolled into the woods, suddenly realizing she was farther from home than she’d intended. She relished the idea of having this time to herself and wandered onward, taking her time . . . breathing in the fresh, clean air, and observing the pretty patterns the filtered sunlight made on the grassy floor below. She whispered Suzy’s name, wondering if the dead could hear what you spoke out into the air.
The Lord does . . . Uncle Bishop says so
. Yet if that was the case, why then were none of the prayers offered by the People spoken aloud? Only the bishop or their preachers ever prayed out loud, and then only at Preaching service.
Her mind wandered back to Suzy, who had so often walked this very way with her. How had she sneaked away to the world without confiding in Nellie, when Suzy had so long had a habit of blurting out things better left unsaid? Until her sister’s Rumschpringe, Nellie and Suzy had faithfully confided everything in each other. Yet in the last year of her life, Suzy had seemed to turn more to her diary than the anxious ears of her sister.
The diary . . .
Never one to sneak a peek before, Nellie had avoided doing so as Suzy had grown increasingly secretive, keeping her thoughts hidden in her side of the dresser.
A single page was all Nellie had allowed herself the day after Suzy drowned, snapping the diary shut upon reading the words
What have I done to myself? Honestly, I’m in over my head
.
Nellie Mae tensed at the thought of Suzy possibly about to abandon her Plain life, on the verge of embracing the world.
Did she die for curiosity’s sake?
Nellie would never forget the lengthy admonition the bishop had given at Suzy’s funeral. Uncle Bishop had sounded a clarion call to the young people that it was time to “consider the consequences” of dying without having joined church. Nellie had been terrified to think her own dear sister had died too soon.
Not wanting to submit her parents to further heartache, Nellie had decided to bury the diary and Suzy’s many secrets—the evidence spelled out in Suzy’s own hand. Her sister’s guarded words and long absences, as well as her deliberate resistance to Preaching services in her final months, were burden enough. Yet it appeared that burying Suzy’s diary was not enough to protect the family’s reputation. Nellie had noticed strange looks from some of the more gossipy members of the grapevine, particularly Susannah Lapp and two of her girl cousins.
The diary’s gone forever,
she thought, remembering the moonless night she’d buried it, unable to bring herself to burn it as Suzy had directed. As she pondered having tearfully dug the hole and tenderly set the plastic-wrapped diary into the ground, she realized she wasn’t sure she could locate its hiding place.
For a moment she regretted burying it at all. Being able to hold Suzy’s precious journal—the final words her sister had ever written—might have brought some comfort now.
Why didn’t I stash it in the house instead?
She pushed away any lingering second thoughts.
Good riddance . . . a life gone awry should be forgotten. For our sake . . . and for Suzy’s
.
Sitting on a fallen tree branch, Nellie bent to tug on the hem of the black apron that covered her feet, her hands now resting flat on the tops of her work shoes. She’d noticed the way the large branch partially blocked the pathway home, overgrown as the faint trail had become.
Birds flew low overhead, the sound of their wings haunting her as she recalled the many times she and Suzy had tramped through these woods. Suzy knew every bird by its color and song, delighting even old-timers with her knowledge. Often they’d watched deer, hiding quietly in the brush and nearly holding their breath so they wouldn’t startle them. Suzy had decided a deer’s favorite meal consisted of clover flowers or berries from a juniper tree, but never herbs or herbal flowers.
Ach, how Suzy enjoyed nature!
Every sound, every sight made Nellie Mae think of her.
When she could contain her sadness no longer, Nellie sobbed into her hands, muting the sound of her broken heart.
Wiping away tears, Nellie Mae stopped at the quiet house to collect the remaining loaves of bread and returned to the shop.
“Where were you?” Rhoda snapped. She’d obviously been fretting.
“I’m sorry, Rhoda,” Nellie apologized. “I needed some time away . . . I should’ve asked.”
Rhoda clucked her tongue and turned to fairly fly out the door without another word.
I’ve done myself no favors with her,
Nellie thought sadly.
She noticed a few stray graham cracker crumbs on one of the shelves of the display case and brushed them into her hand. Rhoda didn’t keep things the tidy way Nellie liked them, but Nellie recognized it was foolish to expect her sister to see things the same way she did. After all, it wasn’t Rhoda’s name on the sign outside.
Moving now to inspect the cookie shelves, she counted how many dozen of each kind were left for the day. Plenty of chocolate gobs remained. Some folks called them whoopie pies because children often declared “Whoopie!” when they first tasted the sugary-chocolate concoctions. Nellie smiled, thinking back to her earliest recollection of having enjoyed her grandmother’s version. The fat chocolate sandwich cookies were made with cake batter and held together by a thick layer of tempting creamy frosting.
She turned and straightened the floral wall calendar, wishing the shop was less sparsely furnished. Nellie hoped to convince Dat to build or purchase some chairs and tables to set up by the window like she’d seen at other small shops. Certainly there was ample room. She liked the idea of making it possible for those customers who wished to, to linger and visit, perhaps over a cup of tea or coffee.
She had a clear picture in her mind of the way she wanted things to look and be. Apart from these changes, the place was pretty well just as she desired it—well organized, neat, and—except for the crumbs that had escaped Rhoda’s attention—clean.
Leave it to me to care ’bout stray crumbs,
Nellie thought wryly.
The bell jingled on the shop door, and she looked up to see Rebekah Yoder coming in, all smiles.
“Hullo, Nellie Mae!” Normally ever so prim in a dark green dress and long black shawl, Caleb’s older sister was today a sight to behold: A raspberry-colored oven burn marked her graceful forehead, though she didn’t seem selfconscious about it. Rebekah’s had become a familiar face in the neighborhood in the past few years, since taking a job as a mother’s helper to an Amish family a half a mile away. Nan especially had benefited from seeing Rebekah more often. Too bad Nan was home nursing a cold today.
“Nice to see you, Rebekah,” Nellie said. “What can I get you?”
Rebekah glanced down at the fringes on her shawl and picked at them a moment before lifting her gaze. “Mamma ran out of time and needs four dozen dinner rolls for a gathering this very evening.”
“Four dozen, you say? I can fill that order,” Nellie said quickly.
She nodded. “My parents are planning to go over to Preacher Manny’s place.”
Nellie thought nothing of it, but as she began to bag up the soft white rolls, she wondered if this wasn’t yet another meeting about the recent upset in their community—and with Uncle Bishop and his wife gone, too. Were men now allowing their wives to put in their say on the matter?
Rebekah smiled and brushed her hand against the burn on her face as she reached for the rolls. “Denki, Nellie.” For a long moment she stood there, gazing at Nellie—almost staring.
Nellie wondered if Rebekah noticed her swollen eyes and abruptly turned to the old-fashioned cash register. “Anything more? Pies? Cookies, maybe?”
“Just the rolls.”
Rebekah was beaming now as she handed her a crisp fivedollar bill. “Will you be goin’ to Singing next weekend?”
Nellie Mae felt the air go clean out of her. Did Rebekah suspect Caleb was pursuing her? She felt at a loss for words and was actually glad the cash register jammed right then.
“Ach, but there’s somethin’ wrong with this machine. . . . I need to go and ask Nan.” With that, she excused herself, leaving Rebekah standing there without her change.
Nellie hurried toward the house in search of Nan, who always knew how to fix the finicky machine.
When she found her sister in bed sound asleep, her dark hair strewn over her pillow, Nellie didn’t have the heart to waken her. It was obvious Nan was in no condition to help today.
Nellie quickly returned to the bakery shop, but she discovered that Rebekah had already gone, leaving behind a note.
Nellie Mae,
Put the difference on Mamma’s credit, if you don’t mind. See you next Saturday!
Fondly,
Rebekah
Fondly?
Nellie laughed.
Surely Caleb’s closest-in-age sister knew something of his interest in Nellie, if not his written invitation. She found this quite curious, since dating and courtship were done in complete secret, up until an engaged couple was “published” after Preaching service. At that time the father of the bride-to-be stood up and extended a wedding invitation to all the membership.
Whatever Rebekah’s knowledge, Nellie realized she was smiling as she worked with the cash register, which miraculously fixed itself after a few minutes.
Nellie noticed the dwindling batch of chocolate chip cookies and made a mental note to bake more of that kind tomorrow morning.
Wonder if Caleb likes chocolate chip?
She giggled, her heart fairly singing now as she glanced again at Rebekah’s brief note.
Fondly, indeed!
Caleb worked alongside Ephram Fisher, building a muchneeded woodshed. They had been at it since sunup.
What was I thinking, putting a bug in Rebekah’s ear?
he thought.
Frustrated with himself, Caleb took care not to exert too much force as he pounded each nail. Typically he was in control of his emotions and would not let his annoyance at his own stupidity get in the way of his work. But he felt guilty at having sent his sister over to see Nellie when Rebekah had stopped by after lunch to give several jars of strawberry preserves to Maryann. He’d happened upon the two women discussing his mother’s lack of dinner rolls and sent Rebekah to Nellie’s to purchase some.
He had merely hoped Rebekah might find a tactful moment to bring up deceased Suzy to Nellie, if the bakery shop wasn’t populated with customers. The mysterious circumstances surrounding Suzy’s drowning troubled Caleb, who had decided to hold off on his growing interest in Nellie after learning of her sister’s death. Whom his family spent time with mattered a great deal to Caleb’s father—reputation was everything. Caleb had meant to appease his Daed by finding out the truth about Suzy, along with the rest of Reuben Fisher’s family. He’d supposed that Rebekah’s friend Nan would have been able to divulge the important information he sought, but it was reasonably clear from Rebekah’s subtle prodding that Nan knew precious little about the day of Suzy’s fatal accident. Maybe Nellie would reveal more to Rebekah. He only knew he thought it unwise to do the asking himself.
