The Photograph (26 page)

Moving toward the east-facing window, she slid her fingers along its frame, where she and Lily had long ago discovered a small piece of paper—a note their great-grandfather's little girls must have written and pressed into the wood frame, concealing it for posterity. Eva eyed the spot where she was sure the note had always been. The last time she and Lily played there, Lily had pulled it out and waved it around, chanting the quote from
Little Women: “Take
some books and read; that's an immense help, and
books are always good company if you have the right
sort.”

Wondering if the note had fallen, perhaps, Eva brought the lantern closer and searched around the floor near the window, then carried it all around the small square of a room, bending low to look.

But the note seemed to be gone.

“At least I have my memories of it,” Eva whispered, blue that the age-old paper was missing.

After the actual Singing, couples began to pair up—some were prearranged double dates, like Jed and Marilyn with Levi and Bettina, while others were known courting couples. The youth in their church district were not as secretive about their dating partners as were other districts in both Ohio and Pennsylvania.
A wise thing,
Jed thought, especially because it had given his parents the opportunity to discuss things sensibly with Bettina, airing their concerns about her marrying so young.

“Are ya comfortable?” he asked Marilyn as they got settled in
the second bench seat, behind Levi and Bettina in the enclosed surrey. The details of the carriage interior weren't clear in the starlight, and Jed wondered who'd built it, then chastised himself for not paying attention to his date.
“Once a buggy maker, always a
buggy maker,”
Uncle Ervin often said.

“It's a nice night for ridin',” Marilyn commented as she put on her black outer bonnet. Levi had mentioned there were several warm blankets in the back if they got chilly.

Levi and Bettina visited quietly up front, and Jed wished Bettina would turn around and address either him or Marilyn. But for the moment, her sister and fiancé were too caught up in each other.

“Which schoolhouse did you attend?” he asked Marilyn to break the ice.

She described the location, a few blocks north of the railroad tracks, evidently not realizing that had been the scene of Lydiann's fatal accident. It was all Jed could do not to visibly wince.

“You must've gone to the school close to your father's house,” Marilyn said.

He told her where and quickly changed the subject, asking now if she was busy with the family garden, which got her talking about the many types of vegetables she and her sister had planted.

“We're out waterin' by hand a lot since we haven't gotten as much rain as usual for June.”

“Not as
gut
as water from the sky.”

“
Nee
 . . . and hand
carryin' water isn't the best use of my time, either. Though I'm not complainin', really.”

A cloud passed over the moon, and suddenly the buggy was cloaked in shadows. He remembered taking Eva in Jonas Byler's carriage and feeling frustrated because he couldn't see her face in the darkness.

Marilyn continued to talk about her day, and Jed could detect his sister's soft giggles in front of him, but his mind was hundreds of miles away.

He had told Eva he would write but hadn't. The truth was, while he doubted she'd want to hear from him, he
was
curious if Lily had returned home, or if they'd gotten word of her whereabouts. Jed regretted again his final visit in Eva's beloved candy shop.

“It won't be
mine much longer,”
she'd told him while showing him the shop, her eyes glistening with sadness, as if her whole purpose was about to be taken from her.

“Jed?”

He jerked to attention. Marilyn was talking to him, and he hadn't heard a word.

“Sorry?”

She smiled and repeated it. “What's your favorite ice cream?”

“Chocolate.”

“Mine too,” she replied. “And I say dark chocolate's best.”

“Well, it's certainly much richer tasting than milk chocolate.”

“For sure.” She added that she also liked to make chocolate chip ice cream and chocolate-covered cherries. “And have you ever eaten chocolate bread custard?”

“Did I hear something 'bout chocolate back there?” Levi asked, turning his head toward them.

“It's chocolate everything,” Marilyn answered, laughing softly.

“Since we're talkin' food, are we ready for sundaes?”

“Whenever you're hungry,” Jed said, ready for a break from the confines of the buggy.
I shouldn't even be
here. . . .

Levi directed the horse to a trot, and as they drew closer to the ice cream shop, Jed knew without a doubt he must try to get in touch with Eva. And as far as he could see, there was only one way she might be willing to give him another chance.
Only one.

T
HAT
T
UESDAY
, E
VA
ironed all the pillowcases and top sheets, too, like Mamma had always done. Eva mentioned to Frona that she had gone out to the old playhouse to reminisce on Sunday evening. “I think maybe we're both tryin' to hang on to what's left of Lily,” Eva said.

Frona looked up from her embroidery, eyes soft. “Sometimes I do that with Mamma.” She sighed and laid the hoop on the table. “After the washing was out on the line yesterday, I went into the big bedroom while you were sellin' candy next door. I felt downright blue, so I headed upstairs and opened the door to our parents' bedroom and just stood there.”

“I haven't looked in there for months.”

“Prob'ly
schmaert
, really.”

Eva folded the pillowcases on the warm ironing board. “I'd actually thought you should move in up there
 and
make that room your own, but that was before Menno told us his plans.”

“I'd feel out of place havin' Mamm and Dat's room.”

“Well, since you're the oldest of us girls,” Eva replied.

Frona's face broke into a sweet smile. “Awful nice of you.”

Eva had noticed that Frona seemed different lately. Gentler, in some ways; less abrupt, too. It was such a lovely change, she wanted to go over and throw her arms around her, the way Lily used to do with Eva, but she didn't want to upset the fruit basket and scare Frona back into her grouchy shell.

———

When she'd put away the ironing, Eva walked out to the barnyard and groomed Prince, taking her time with him. She slipped him a sugar cube when she was done, then strolled out to the road to check the mail, breathing in the familiar farm smells. Across the road, back near his stable, Abner Mast took off his straw hat and waved it at her.

The day's as perfect a June day as they
come,
she thought, opening the mailbox. There, along with three circle letters for Frona, and one for her, was a thick envelope from Alfred Dienner.

She drew a quick breath and held the letter tentatively, like a soiled dishrag. Just then, a middle-aged
Englischer
came riding down the road on his bicycle, nodding as he passed. She'd never seen him around the area before and guessed he must be fit enough to pedal quite a long way. What must it feel like to ride so fast and free? She tried to imagine it as she watched the man disappear from view.

Turning toward the house, Eva decided to read Alfred's letter right away, instead of waiting till after chores were done. This way she could mull over whatever was on his mind.

The early robin's robust song had awakened Naomi around four o'clock that morning, making it difficult to return to sleep.

Thankfully, she'd felt reenergized after two cups of coffee and a hearty breakfast—three eggs for Abner and two for her, plus a half grapefruit each, and a generous portion of scrapple.

Omar had stopped in an hour or so later before going to work with Abner, telling them that he'd registered to vote. Why, oh why, couldn't Omar just settle down like the rest of their grown children?

Is this how Dottie Esch felt about Lily?
she wondered.

Abner came inside looking for something to nibble on, hungry again. “Eva was out getting her mail just now,” he said, making small talk. “She didn't seem her usual cheerful self.”

“Well, no wonder,” Naomi said. “They still haven't heard from Lily.” She sliced two thick pieces of homemade wheat bread and slapped a good amount of peanut butter and strawberry jam on it to make a sandwich. “Maybe this will stick to your ribs till the noon meal.”

“What'll it be today, love?”

She smiled. “Aren't you the bottomless pit?”

“Must seem like it to you.” He grinned. “But I'm mighty blessed to be married to such a
gut
cook.”

Naomi eyed his snack, nearly devoured already. “Want another?”

“Better not. I have to start liftin' hay bales with Omar and Elam right quick.”

“Well, ain't you somethin',” she teased, waving him back out to the barn.

Eva ran her thumbnail along the edge of Alfred's envelope. She'd excused herself to the barn, to Dat's former office, where Menno had set up file cabinets and altered the place to suit his needs. She closed the door and settled into the swivel desk chair.

Bracing herself, she began to read and quickly noticed that most of Alfred's letter was comprised of his daily schedule at the woodworking shop and of learning to use various saws and other
hydraulic tools. He'd also mentioned finding a candy store, but it didn't have offerings nearly as delectable as Eva's candies.
And I sampled quite a few,
he'd written.

In the final paragraph, he said he wanted to call her a week from today.
Will you be able to
get away to the phone shanty at three o'clock
in the afternoon?

Eva knew talking had always been easier for him than writing. He'd admitted this some time ago, when he went with his family on vacation and hadn't bothered to send her even a postcard. She sighed. If he was more comfortable by phone, then so be it.

Eva had to decide how to reply; if she didn't hurry and do so, he'd have to postpone his anticipated phone call. Yet if she
did
agree, what would he say to her?

“What should my answer be, O Lord?”

She glanced at Tuesday, June 17, on the large farm seed calendar on the wall and found herself wishing Jed Stutzman had written instead.