CHAPTER 15

Dovie

I didn’t say another word to Karlina. She had told me that her mother planned to pray and I must be patient. But each day it became more difficult. For more than a week, I had been watching Cousin Louise with eager eyes, hoping for some sign that she was ready to give me a glimpse into my mother’s past. I believed she could lay my questions to rest, but only if she and God came to a mutual understanding. An understanding that agreed with my desires.

After we completed cleaning the kitchen, Cousin Louise dismissed the sisters. “Go home until time to prepare for supper. Dovie will help me prepare the midday refreshment. I am guessing you all have work waiting at home for you.”

Cousin Louise’s comment wasn’t unusual. Often it took only two people to prepare the midmorning and midafternoon refreshments. The only part that surprised me was that I had been selected to help her. Normally I didn’t work in the kitchen after the noonday meal had been served.

The women called their good-byes as they scurried out the back door. From the kitchen window, I stood watch as their garments flapped in the blustery February wind. Gathering their cloaks tight, the women bowed their heads against the cold air and strode off in several different directions.

“I hope you did not have plans for this afternoon, Dovie.” Cousin Louise stood in the kitchen doorway.

I turned away from the window and smiled. “No. Nothing important.” More and more often, Berndt had been required to help at the sawmill during the afternoons, so our time together had become less frequent. We had not arranged to meet today. My only plan had been to answer my father’s recent letter.

“Let’s go upstairs and sit in the parlor, where it is more comfortable. I want to talk to you a little, and there are some things I will show you.”

My heart quickened. Finally Cousin Louise was going to talk to me about my mother. It took everything in my power to keep from racing up the steps. By the time we entered the parlor, my anticipation was bubbling like a pot of water on a hot stove.

“Go in and sit down. I must get something from the bedroom.”

I tapped my foot, my impatience increasing with each passing moment. When I heard Cousin Louise’s footsteps, I folded my hands and leaned forward. “What do you have to show me?”

“First we will talk.” She lowered herself onto the chair opposite me. “Karlina tells me you hold on to the belief that your mother was unhappy.”

“I know what you have told me, but I still believe she would have given up everything in Cincinnati in exchange for a life here.”

Cousin Louise shook her head. “It is true your Mutter was very sad when your grandfather decided they would move to the outside.” She inhaled a deep breath. “Like most people, your Mutter was unhappy sometimes and happy at other times.”

“You weren’t around her, Cousin Louise. She was mostly sad, and whenever I would question her about her life in the colonies, she would only shake her head and tell me that the past was gone and could never be changed. Then she would refuse to discuss it any further.”

“Ja, well, that is true, but I believe you have drawn far too much from her words and her refusal to talk about her early years. I am hoping that these will set your heart at rest and you will finally realize how much your Mutter loved you.” She withdrew a small packet of letters from her pocket. “These are letters written to me by your Mutter. After you have read them, I do not think you will ever question her love for you again.” She placed the letters on the table beside me.

My mother’s neat script flowed across the face of envelopes that had yellowed a bit with age. “Thank you, Cousin Louise.”

She nodded. “I am going downstairs. You remain up here and read the letters carefully. I think your mind will be set to rest after you finish reading them.”

I waited until I heard her footsteps on the stairs before I reached inside the first envelope. Doing as Cousin Louise had instructed, I carefully read each letter. When I finished, I leaned back in the chair. Disappointment washed over me. There were lengthy gaps of time between the letters. The first letter contained news of my mother’s upcoming marriage and my father’s promise to find them a home in the Over-the-Rhine district of Cincinnati. The next told of their small wedding and setting up their little apartment. There were a few that told of life in Cincinnati and that her marriage and the move from Covington to the other side of the river had been like moving to a new world. The only remark about Amana in all of the letters had been in one where she’d written The change from living in my father’s house to making a new home with Nelson is as great as when my family left East Amana and moved to Kentucky. There was nothing in these letters that Cousin Louise hadn’t already told me.

I rested my head against the back of the chair. How did she think these few letters would answer my questions? There was nothing that revealed why my mother had longed to remain in the colonies even though her parents had decided to leave. Maybe if I probed for an answer about why my grandparents left, I would discover something further. Still, I doubted whether Cousin Louise would tell me much more. She’d said these letters should set my mind at rest.

After tucking each letter into the proper envelope, I wandered downstairs. Bowls of preserves and apple butter sat on the tables. In the kitchen, Cousin Louise was cutting thick slices of dark bread to serve with afternoon coffee.

She glanced up. “You feel better now, ja?”

I shook my head. “The letters say little more than you had already told me.”

Her brows dipped low, and the sharp knife remained poised above the loaf of bread. “But they are her own words, written in her hand. You now know what I told you is true.”

I forced a feeble smile. “I never believed you were telling me untruths, Cousin Louise, but I think there is more to my mother’s story, much that remains unspoken. Those are things I want to know.”

She turned her gaze back to the bread and lowered her knife against the hard crust. “I am sorry you are disappointed, Dovie. I am praying that God will give you peace about your mother’s past so that you may step into the future.”

Her words were enough to tell me that I need inquire no further. “If you don’t need my help, I think I’ll go for a walk.”

“It’s cold and windy, but if you wish to take a walk, I can finish here by myself.” She smiled and waved me toward the door.

I grabbed my coat from the peg, and as soon as all the buttons were fastened and I’d pulled on my gloves, I hurried out the door. In truth, I thought Cousin Louise was probably pleased that I had asked to leave. With me gone, she didn’t have to worry about more questions. Taking the same route I’d used on many other days, I unconsciously walked toward the edge of town and glanced toward the stand of trees where I had met Berndt on so many occasions. Silly as it seemed, I rather expected to see him standing there, but the only movement among the trees was a lone rabbit foraging for something to nibble upon.

An echo of voices drifted from the pond, and I wondered who might be skating this afternoon. Perhaps Jakub and his sister. I hadn’t seen them in some time. Jakub had waved from a distance one day when I’d been skating with Berndt but had disappeared almost the moment I caught sight of him. Since then, neither he nor Sophia had been at the pond when Berndt and I were there.

In spite of the cold, a bright afternoon sun shone on the ice, and I cupped my hand above my eyes to gain a better view. The two figures on the ice had their backs turned to me but then whirled in unison, and I recognized Jakub and Sophia. I lifted my arm and waved wildly in their direction.

“Ahoj!” The two of them called as they skated toward the edge of the pond.

“Guten Tag!” I hurried toward them, wishing I’d brought my skates. “It is good to see you. Where have you been?” I asked slowly. “You are never here when I come skating.” Jakub had understood some of my German before—at least when I didn’t talk too rapidly.

Jakub pointed to a tree and moved his arms back and forth. “Cutting. For at home, to keep warm.” He pointed to the dancing flames. He had started a fire in the same place Berndt and I made our fires.

I nodded my understanding. It seemed everyone was busy cutting wood in order to keep warm throughout the winter. “You have been doing well?”

He nodded and pointed to the fat log that we used as a seat. While Sophia circled on the ice, he sat down beside me. “A little sickness. My matka and babička.” When I frowned, he chuckled and said, “Mutter and Oma.”

“Ah, your Mutter and Oma have been ill.”

He held his index finger and thumb a short distance apart. “A little. Better now.” He pointed to my feet. “No skates?”

I shook my head. “Just walking today. No skating.”

He pointed toward East Amana. “Where is the man you skate with?”

“Berndt? He had to work this afternoon.” I didn’t know if Berndt was cutting wood, working at the sawmill, or sweeping the bakery, but I made the same motions Jakub had made earlier.

He laughed and nodded. “You come here again and skate?”

I hitched a shoulder. “Maybe, but not until next week.”

“What day? Sophia and I will come, too.”

I thought for a moment. Berndt was always busy on Thursdays. That should be a good day. “Thursday?”

He nodded as Sophia returned to the edge of the pond and joined us. She leaned down to unfasten her skates. “Time to go, Jakub.” She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling. “Come meet our matka?” She reached over and grasped my hand.

I glanced back toward the village. There was no reason to hurry back. Cousin Louise wasn’t going to answer my questions, and I wasn’t expected to help prepare the evening meal.

“Come have some káva.” She pretended to lift a cup to her lips.

Jakub had removed his skates while Sophia talked, and when I hesitated, he motioned for me to come along. “Come and meet.” He smiled. “You will like.”

I knew that going to the home of strangers would be frowned upon, and going by myself would be considered unacceptable behavior. Yet who would know? Cousin Louise was accustomed to my being gone during the afternoons. Karlina and Anton were busy working, as was Berndt. The prospect of sharing coffee with this inviting family sounded far more enjoyable than returning to the kitchen house.

“Danke. I will come with you.”

Jakub’s eyes widened with surprise, but his smile was bright enough to light a dreary day. I walked between the two of them, enjoying their laughter as they joked with each other. Their house was farther than I’d expected. When we arrived, I knew I couldn’t stay for long. To be late returning for the evening meal would require more answers than I would want to give.

As we entered the house, the smell of baking sweets encircled me like welcoming arms. I lifted my nose and inhaled the yeasty sweet aroma. My mouth watered and I gazed around the kitchen. Two women sat at the table. One was bent and gray-haired, her face lined with wrinkles as deep as the grooves in Cousin Louise’s wooden cutting board. Her lips curved in a toothless grin and she motioned to the chair beside her. When I didn’t move, she patted the seat of the chair.

“She wants you to sit down,” Jakub said. He took my hand and gently tugged me toward the chair. “Babička, this is Dovie.” Her toothless grin widened.

I nodded and wished her “good afternoon” in German. Whether she understood or not, I didn’t know, but she bobbed her head. Strands of gray hair danced around her weathered forehead until she lifted a blue-veined hand and swiped them away.

Jakub turned to the younger of the two women. “And this is my matka.” Her dark hair bore streaks of gray, and I guessed her to be near the same age as Cousin Louise. Her eyes were as dark as coal and sparkled when she smiled. She pointed to the empty chair.

I sat down, uncertain what to do or say. Before I could worry for long, Sophia had placed a cup and saucer in front of me and then filled my cup with coffee. Jakub’s mother said something to Sophia that I couldn’t understand while Jakub pulled a chair close and poured coffee for his mother, grandmother, and finally for himself.

Sophia placed a platter in the center of the table and small plates and forks in front of us.

“Kolaches. You will like,” Jakub said. He rubbed his stomach. “Very good.”

Jakub’s mother lifted the platter and offered it to me. I was afraid I would be late getting home, but I couldn’t refuse. I smiled my thanks and lifted one of the sweet rolls from the plate. A dollop of cherry filling sat nestled in the center of the pastry. I cut off a bite, lifted the fork to my mouth, and bit into the soft texture. The delightful consistency of the tender dough and sweet filling was as good as any pastry I’d ever tasted in Krüger’s Bakery.

I looked at Jakub’s mother and pointed to the pastry. “Wonderful. Very good.” I wished I could speak in their language so that she would understand.

She nodded and pointed to Jakub’s grandmother. I turned toward his grandmother and repeated my praise. The older woman nodded and smiled, then helped herself to one of the kolaches. After taking a bite, she grinned and motioned for me to take another. I hadn’t yet finished the first. I shook my head, and she frowned.

I motioned toward the door. “I must go home soon.”

After Jakub explained, she wiped her hands on her napkin and got up from the table. Soon she returned with a cloth napkin, wrapped two of the kolaches inside, and pointed to me. “She wants to give you those to take home with you,” Jakub said.

Her eyes gleamed with pleasure. I couldn’t refuse. A short time later, I bid them all good-bye and thanked them for the coffee and kolaches. Jakub grabbed his coat when I neared the door.

Jamming his arms into the sleeves, he quickly fastened the buttons. “I will walk with you. To make sure you are safe.”

He turned to explain to his mother, who nodded and waved to me. Sophia and the other two women were deep in conversation when we walked out the door. “They are very nice, Jakub. Thank you for inviting me.” I grinned and tapped the napkin. “And for the kolaches.”

He laughed. “I was sure you would like them.”

We walked in silence until we neared the pond. “I’ll go the rest of the way by myself. I am fine.”

He didn’t argue. “You come for sure next Thursday?”

“Yes. And I’ll bring the napkin back.” I grasped his hand. “Thank you, Jakub. I had a nice time.”

“Bring your skates,” he called as I walked to the other side of the pond.

“I will!” I waved and continued toward the kitchen house, my heart much lighter than when I’d departed. Nothing had changed. I still knew nothing about my mother, but while I had been with Jakub and his family, none of it seemed to matter. As I sat around the table in their tiny kitchen, I had completely forgotten about my mother’s past, and it had felt good. Maybe Cousin Louise was right. Maybe I did need to forget the past and move into the future.

I gasped when the clock in the watchtower chimed. It was the first bell, the one telling the workers supper would soon be served. I began to run and soon caught sight of the barn. As I came across the rise, Karlina, Anton, and Cousin George appeared.

I jammed the napkin into my coat pocket and held my hand near the opening. I didn’t want to risk the possibility of the napkin protruding, for that would cause a flurry of questions. Karlina was the first to spot me. She waved and shouted my name, and then all three of them came to a halt. Panting, I ran toward them while holding my hand over my pocket.

Karlina leaned to one side and looked at my hand as I came to a stop beside her. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

“Nothing. I had a small ache in my side.” I pushed my hand tighter against my side.

Cousin George continued walking. “Come or we will be late to supper. It would not be gut for all of my wife’s family to be late entering the Küche.”

I sighed with relief, thankful any further conversation regarding my hand had been avoided.

As we entered the village, Cousin George glanced over his shoulder. “Where have you been this afternoon, Dovie?”

My relief evaporated like snow on a spring day. “I went for a walk down by the pond. I had Cousin Louise’s permission.”

“You were skating?”

“No. I didn’t take skates with me.”

“Once the weather begins to warm up, you must not go skating by yourself. The ice will become weak, and you could have an accident.” Cousin George pointed toward the sky. “I do not think we need to worry about melting ice right away. Looks like snow clouds in the distance.”

Though I had no knowledge of snow clouds, I murmured my agreement and hoped we would arrive back at the Küche before Cousin George would ask any more questions about my whereabouts. I didn’t want to tell an outright lie.