Chapter 28

When the mail arrived Friday morning, Marlena was so anxious for a letter from dear Nat, she dashed out to the road while Angela Rose was safely settled in the playpen. Angela had been pushing up, trying her best to get up on all fours. She will be soon, thought Marlena.

She fingered through the mail and found mostly letters for Mammi—three from her older sisters in Hickory Hollow and Strasburg, and a couple of circle letters. But there were two for Marlena—one from her sister Katie and the other from Nat Zimmerman. Smiling, she had to decide which to open first.

At the sound of a buggy, Marlena spotted one of the neighbors coming down the hill in a gray family carriage and waved. She decided to read her sister’s letter first, because she wanted to savor Nat’s later, when she had plenty of time to read it slowly.

Dear Marlena,

How are you? Thank goodness you got to come for Luella’s funeral. Even though it was a hard day for all of us, it made me happy to see you and Angela Rose. Oh, that little one brings a smile to my face! I loved holding her in the parking lot when we first got there.

Mamma says we might not see her very much from now on, but I’m praying we will. Preacher Ranck always says God knows the desires of our hearts.

I really hope we get to see our little niece grow up, don’t you?

Marlena could almost hear her younger sister’s voice. “I feel the same way,” she whispered into the humid morning breeze, recalling everything Mamma had implied Wednesday evening about Gordon’s parents’ possibly coming for Angela Rose. But Mammi Janice had sounded rather accepting of it, so she guessed she ought to be, too. “Always take the high road,” she often said.

Angela was beginning to fuss now, and Marlena hurried inside and placed Mammi’s letters on the kitchen counter. “Here’s your mail,” she said to her grandmother, who was preparing to can more jars of strawberry jam for tomorrow’s market day.

“Looks like you have some letters, too, dear.”

“Jah, one from Katie and one from my beau.”

“Your little sisters were so kind to me at Luella’s funeral,” Mammi said, telling how Katie and Rachel Ann had wanted to sit on either side of her on the front row of the women’s side of the church.

“I miss them,” Marlena said.

“Well, and they miss you, too, don’t ya forget.” Mammi looked at her attentively. “I can’t tell you how much it means, havin’ you here . . . giving up your summer back home to help me.”

Marlena waved her hand. “I’m just glad it worked out.” She slipped the letters into her apron pocket and stooped to get rutsche Angela out of the playpen. Taking her upstairs for a diaper change, Marlena wondered when Gordon’s parents would arrive—this Lord’s Day? On Monday?

It was hard to be cheerful as she took care of Angela when likely there were only a couple days remaining.

Later that afternoon, after picking the ripened produce in her grandmother’s garden, Marlena came close to dozing off while Angela napped in her arms; she wanted to spoil her just a little more. In her haze, she remembered walking through her mother’s sweet corn crop with Luella, their brothers, and several older girl cousins, combing row after row for weeds. “Redding up the corn,” her brother Amos had called it.

Luella had kindly shared some of her cold lemonade with Marlena on that scorching day when Marlena complained that her tongue was turning thick, she was that thirsty. Luella let me drain her Thermos and never once made a fuss about it.

The pleasant memory gave her pause, and she drew in a deep breath. Were there more such memories buried somewhere in her heart?

Mammi called up the stairs to ask if everything was all right. Still holding Angela Rose, Marlena got up and went to stand at the top of the stairs.

“Ach, sorry,” Mammi said, seeing her with the baby. “I didn’t realize . . .”

“I’ll be down right quick,” Marlena said, worried that losing Angela Rose to her English grandparents might set Mammi back emotionally.

“The jars are ready to fill, when you’re ready,” Mammi said, turning the corner and stepping out of sight.

Marlena went back to the room and put Angela in her crib. Then, opening the right-hand dresser drawer, she dropped the letters inside and headed downstairs to help Mammi make jam for market.

“All right with you if Dorcas runs up to Janice Martin’s to ask about babysitting tomorrow?” Ellie asked her husband midafternoon. He’d lingered at the table after coming in for some cold meadow tea to wet his whistle.

“Don’t see why not.”

“I’ll let her know, then.” She was glad Roman seemed all right with it.

She hadn’t told him how things had gone when she’d announced to her class that she wouldn’t be continuing. Such sad expressions on all the faces!

Instead, she mentioned the girls’ response to Marlena’s baby niece last Saturday. “They really enjoyed having the baby here,” she told Roman.

Roman nodded, his eyes fixed on some distant point out the window.

“As for market, I’ll be takin’ some preserves and a few other things myself, but you’ll be around, I s’pose, in case Dorcas and the girls need anything.”

He said he would. “And Jake and Boston? Will they be goin’ with ya?”

“I’d thought of takin’ Small Jay along, jah.”

“Leavin’ Boston here?”

“Guess I thought he would be workin’ in the stable, groomin’ the horses, maybe.”

Roman shrugged and said that was true. “But I doubt Jake will want to go.” He sighed. “Seems to me the boy’d rather stay and help Boston.”

Ellie was conscious of the ticking day clock. “There are other young men at market,” she volunteered. “Luke Mast goes with his sister to help their mother.”

“They’re New Order, though, remember, Ellie.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, realizing she’d put herself smack-dab into that corner.

“Not car-drivin’ Amish, though,” he added. “That’s one gut thing ’bout them.”

She knew now wasn’t the best time to bring up what she thought about all the splinter groups of Amish—more, seemingly, each year. Seeing Roman sitting there, so relaxed and rather pleasant, she couldn’t bear the thought of a stressful word coming between them.

“Ya know, I’ve got Boston’s harmonica tune stuck in my head,” Roman said just then.

“It’s so appealing, ain’t?”

“Perty, if ya really listen. Like it needs words.”

She’d never heard Roman say such a thing. “I’ve wondered that, too.”

“Boston plays it all the time. Must be mighty special to him.”

Hearing this, Ellie actually had to look away. She didn’t know what had gotten into her husband . . . but she liked it. “I’ll go out and find Small Jay and let him know it’ll be just the two of us for market tomorrow.”

“Might ask him first if he’d like to go or stay. How’d that be?” Roman was grinning and looking right at her.

My husband’s asking me?

Roman was certainly chock-full of surprises today.