Chapter Seven

ONCE THE DECISION was made and announced, the move itself happened quickly. Within a week most of the items that Fanny permitted them to take—for she lorded over them while they packed—were contained in just a few suitcases and boxes.

“The sewing machine table belongs here with the haus,” she had said when Maggie started to move it toward the kitchen area.

Indignant at the claim, Mary Ann stepped forward. “How so, Fanny?”

“It belonged to John’s grandmother,” was the simple reply.

“She was our grandmother too!” Mary Ann retorted.

“Mary Ann,” Maem said softly, “let it stay.”

Triumphantly, Fanny walked over to the piece, a beautiful maple table with iron wheels and foot pedals. When Fanny examined it, she frowned and lifted the corner of her apron as if to wipe away a smudge left behind from Maggie’s hand. “What use would you have for such a fine piece of furniture anyway?” Fanny said, her eyes still on the sewing stand. “You have Eleanor’s regular sewing table anyway.”

Clearly resentful of Fanny, Mary Ann could not resist asking, “Perhaps you’d like to keep that too, Fanny?”

Fanny’s mouth opened and she glowered at her sister-in-law. “Such insolence! I certainly do not have need for two sewing tables!” Still, she had remained behind to oversee the packing, laying claim to more items than she granted permission to leave the property.

On the day of the move a Mennonite driver arrived with a pickup truck. Edwin knocked at the door of the grossdaadihaus to alert them to the man’s arrival.

“I’ll help you load up the boxes and furniture,” he said when he entered the room. He looked at the small number of boxes that waited on the counter. “Is there more upstairs, then?”

Mary Ann started to say something, but suspecting that it would not be kind toward Fanny, Eleanor nudged her with her shoe.

“Just two suitcases of clothing and linens, I believe.” Eleanor started to walk up the stairs to retrieve them. To her surprise Edwin offered to help her.

Once in the bedroom Eleanor felt self-conscious that she was alone with him. She hurried over to the bed (for Fanny insisted that they must buy new and leave the bed frames and mattresses behind) and started to pick up the one suitcase that contained her mother’s dresses. She felt Edwin stand behind her. Turning around, she gave him a nervous smile and tried to step aside so that he could retrieve the other suitcase.

“Eleanor,” he said, his eyes glancing at her and then down at the floor. “There is something I’ve been meaning to say to you . . . ”

For a moment Eleanor felt a quickening of her pulse. The way that he appeared so skittish and anxious made her wonder if, mayhaps, he might have something on his mind besides the move. “Oh?” She set the suitcase down on the floor and stood before him, her eyes searching his face as she waited patiently for Edwin to speak up.

“I . . . ” He hesitated and shuffled his feet. “You see . . . ”

“Eleanor!” Mary Ann called up the stairs. “Hurry up. Maem needs your help with moving the kitchen table. Are you up there?”

Edwin forced a smile and stepped back. “I suppose it can wait,” he mumbled as he bent over to pick up the suitcase at his feet.

Disappointed, Eleanor looked away.

Whatever it was that Edwin wanted to tell her would have to wait, just as she would, for she had no idea when she would have an opportunity to talk with him again. She listened to him carry the suitcase down the stairs before she retrieved the second bag from the bed. With one final look around the room that had, at one time, been her grandparents’ and was supposed to have been her parents’ when they grew older together, she hoisted the bag so that she could carry it out of the room and down the stairs, traveling the very same steps Edwin had just taken. Two steps behind, she thought as she dragged the bag down the stairs. Always two steps behind.

The cottage in Quarryville was smaller than Eleanor anticipated. Made of old gray stone and dating back to the late 1700s, it had low ceilings, and the small windows let in little light. The narrow porch ran the length of the house, while a simple split-rail fence separated the house from the road. But with its three bedrooms, two upstairs and one downstairs, there was at least room for all of them to sleep comfortably.

The living area was just one large room, with a walk-in fireplace on the north side and a narrow wooden staircase along the south wall, as well as the entry to the downstairs bedroom. Along the side where the morning sun would rise were two windows and a door. When opened, the door barely missed brushing against the bottom step. The windows and their wide sills were covered in layers of dirt and bird droppings, but they were large and welcomed sunshine into the room.

Eleanor wandered over to the kitchen area, stepping over leaves and sticks that must have blown into the cottage from a door left open. If cousin Jacob had cleared out the rubbish and debris, she could only imagine what it had looked like beforehand. Discouraged, but refusing to show it, she ran her finger along the dusty counter and the top of the wood-burning stove. Bending down, she opened one of the oven doors and noticed that, at least, had been cleaned out by the previous residents of the cottage.

The bathroom was located underneath the stairs, the door hidden in rich wainscoting. An attractive feature, Eleanor thought, and that was the only positive thought she had as she assessed their new home.

Maggie dashed up the stairs, eager to explore the three bedrooms. The sound of her shoes on the wooden floor echoed in the silence of the first floor. Maem stood there, her eyes wide and her cheeks pale. Mary Ann, however, wasted no time in sharing her opinion of their new residence.

“There’s so many spiders!” Mary Ann complained, swiping her hand at the cobwebs in the doorway to the pantry. “And definitely mice.” She pointed to one of the shelves where rodent droppings lay in abundance.

“Oh, help,” Maem muttered under her breath. “Don’t let Maggie know. Surely she’ll want to capture them and keep one for a pet!”

Deciding to take charge, Eleanor hurried over to the kitchen window and unlatched and opened it. She shut her eyes as she leaned toward it, breathing in the fresh air that immediately started clearing the musty smell in the small cottage.

Maggie ran back downstairs and joined Eleanor at the window. “I reckon I’ll take the small bedroom,” she said, a disappointed tone in her voice.

“That’s a good girl,” Eleanor responded, placing her hand on her sister’s shoulders. She knew how disappointed they felt, for she felt the same. But with the way that their father had left the estate, they had few options. At least here they would be free of Fanny and her constant criticisms.

“Maem,” Eleanor said, trying to sound cheerful, “there’s a lovely view here of the meadow. And I find the kitchen rather cozy, don’t you, Maggie?”

“Mayhaps when it’s fixed up.” Maggie stood on her tippy toes to peer out the window. “But I do like the climbing trees that line the lane.”

Eleanor smiled at her. “I noticed those too, Maggie!”

“May I go try them?”

While Eleanor would have preferred Maggie to offer her help in cleaning up their new home, she couldn’t deny such an innocent request from her youngest sister who, truly, suffered the most from the move, having to adjust to a new school, new friends, and a new lifestyle. “Mayhaps for a spell, but then come back to help unpack, ja?”

Maggie needed no further encouragement before darting out the open door.

“Ja, vell,” Eleanor said after taking a deep breath, “seems we have much to do, then.”

Mary Ann stepped over an empty crate that had been left in the middle of the room and opened another window. There were no screens to keep out the bugs, and she wiped off the dusty windowsill with the edge of her apron before leaning outside. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she cried. “Take a look at this garden!” She pointed toward the lane where Maggie was already trying to climb a tree. “That hasn’t been tended for at least a hundred years! The weeds are as big as the house!”

Curious, Eleanor hurried across the room and peered over Mary Ann’s shoulder. For once her sister was neither exaggerating nor being overly dramatic. Weeds had grown so high that, on entering the cottage, Eleanor had mistaken them for planted shrubbery. Vines wove through the fencing and crawled up the corner of the house, wrapping themselves around the chimney. “Oh dear.”

“Maem!” Mary Ann turned toward her mother, her eyes large and pleading. “As awful as Fanny is, must we truly live here?”

Maem seemed to contemplate Mary Ann’s question, her brow wrinkling and her eyes glazing over. For a moment Eleanor thought her mother might actually cry, and sensing the frustration that was bubbling to the surface, she smiled and clapped her hands together.

“Now, now, let’s make the most of it!” Eleanor moved away from the window and the awful view of the overgrown garden. She assessed the large room and took a deep breath. Keeping everyone busy would help calm rattled nerves and thwart any emotional outbursts regarding the sorry state of their new living accommodations. “Let’s focus on the kitchen, shall we? I’ll scrub the floors, Mary Ann can wash the windows and sills, and Maem can focus on the shelves. We’ll be unpacked and ready for supper before the sun realizes it is time to set!”

With jobs assigned, the trio of women worked, the silence broken only by the noise of water running and rags being dipped into buckets. Eleanor tried to keep her mind focused on positive thoughts, knowing that if she didn’t, she too might succumb to the feelings of despair that her mother and sister felt. After all, not only had she left the only home that she had ever known, but she had also left Edwin.

Eleanor wiped the sweat from her brow and leaned back on her heels. She tried to forget his reaction when he heard they were moving to Quarryville. His face had given away his emotions, and for the first time, Eleanor realized how Mary Ann’s observations, while premature, had been more accurate than she had allowed.

“I must visit then,” Edwin had said to her later that evening, his head dipped so that their foreheads almost touched as they stood by the edge of the cornfield. “Mayhaps when I am finished here? In two weeks?”

Eleanor nodded her head but said nothing.

“Mayhaps sooner?”

She knew that traveling so far would mean he’d have to hire a driver and leave the farm for at least two or more hours at a crucial time during the late weeks of summer. Without Eleanor or her sisters to assist John with hay cutting and baling as well as the regular chores, Edwin’s help would be even more important. Besides, at some point in time, Edwin would be needed back on his own family farm, and that was even farther away from Quarryville.

Eleanor had appreciated his offer as well as his help with packing up their few household goods that were taken to the new cottage in Quarryville. Only now, as Eleanor looked around at the pitifully few boxes that were piled by the front door, she realized that Edwin had spent much more time than was necessary when helping them. Seven boxes, two benches, one rocking chair, and a kitchen table that needed to be put together. That was the remainder of what had been their lives on the Manheim farm.

“Knock, knock!”

Eleanor started at the strange voice and immediately looked to the door. Her mother was already dusting off her apron as she walked to greet the couple that stood there, watching the three women with curious smiles on their faces.

“Cousin Jacob,” Maem said, extending her hand to shake his.

He was a rotund man, his suspenders stretched to the max over his large, protruding stomach. His graying beard appeared wiry and unkempt, the bottom of it hiding the first two buttons on his shirt. But the smile on his face and sparkle in his eyes lessened the severity of his image. “Making yourself at home already, then?” he remarked lightly as he glanced around the room. “And from the looks of it, having quite the task ahead of you!” At this he laughed, and the portly woman beside him did too. “Have you met my mother-in-law?” He motioned to Eleanor and Mary Ann, waving them over to join them. “Widow Jennings is what we all call her.”

The large-boned woman with a cherubic face laughed and swatted playfully at his arm. “Ach, Jacob! I detest that name!” But she offered no other to take its place.

Eleanor shook Widow Jennings’s hand and glanced over at Mary Ann to do the same. Out of the corner of her eye she exchanged a look with her sister and knew without doubt that they shared the same thought. Jacob Miller and Widow Jennings appeared close enough in age to be married, and their casual banter bespoke of a friendship that seemed more than unusual. Eleanor could only imagine what Jacob’s wife must be like.

After the pleasantries were exchanged, Eleanor tried to fill the odd moment of awkward silence that fell over them. “We . . . we cannot thank you enough for the cottage,” she managed to say to Jacob, hoping that her voice did not give away her personal disappointment in the size and condition of the habitation. “It was very kind of you to offer it to us.”

“Ach, Eleanor! You are family, ja? And that’s what family does. Helps each other during the difficult times.” He leaned over and mumbled to Widow Jennings, but loud enough for all to hear, “At least the good ones do, the ones that stop thinking of their own needs long enough to notice others!”

Again they both laughed as if sharing a wonderful private joke, a joke that Eleanor suspected had to do with her half brother and his wife, Fanny.

“Now, girls,” Widow Jennings said when her laughter had faded. “We insist that you come to the haus for supper. Your company is mandatory at our table. And you must meet Jacob’s good friend, Christian Bechtler. He’ll be stopping in for some supper as well.”

“I . . . I . . . ” Maem didn’t know how to respond and stumbled over her words.

“We’d be delighted,” Eleanor ignored the pleading look from her sister and responded on behalf of her mother. While it would have been easy enough to plead weariness from the day’s move, Eleanor also knew that they had no food for supper. Besides, it would be impolite to decline when Jacob was their benefactor.

“Just wunderbarr!” Widow Jennings said. She exaggerated whispering to Maem, “One of your two dochders should do right well as his fraa!” Once again she laughed, and Jacob joined her.

“Oh!” Maem’s intake of breath and quick glance in Eleanor’s direction did not escape Jacob and his mother-in-law’s attention.

“What’s this?” Jacob said inquisitively, looking from one to the other.

Widow Jennings immediately seized the opportunity to inquire further. “Perhaps one of your dochders has a special friend already, ja?” She eyed Eleanor suspiciously and with a knowing smile on her lips.

Eleanor colored at the suggestion.

“Vell, ja,” Maem said, surprising Eleanor with her candor. “We do expect a visitor to come calling on my oldest.”

“Ach! A wedding this autumn?” Widow Jennings looked at Jacob, her eyes wide and full of hope. “Jacob! You must start preparing!” She returned her attention to Maem and Eleanor, unaware that Maggie had slipped back into the room. “And who is this special friend, hmm?”

Eleanor started to shake her head to indicate that her mother had spoken too quickly on her behalf when Maggie made her presence known. “Why, you must mean—”

“Shh!” Eleanor cut her off before she could speak Edwin’s name.

But it was enough information to delight Widow Jennings. “Oh, a guessing game! I do love little puzzles. Surely we will find out who this friend is. Might you give me a hint, Maggie? A letter perhaps?”

“F!” Maggie said, shooting a glance at Eleanor as if to say, “What harm could one letter do?”

“F. . . F. . . ” Widow Jennings glanced at the ceiling as if pondering the possibilities. “Frederick? I don’t think I know any Fredericks in the area.”

Jacob held up his hand. “There was that one Frederick. The one who married the Blank girl, ja?”

“He’s from Ohio and married, Jacob,” Widow Jennings said, stressing the word married. “Clearly a married man is not our mysterious courter with the F name!” She paused, thinking. Then, as if an idea crossed her mind, she lit up and widened her eyes. “Mayhaps F is not his first name, but his family name!” Delighted with the game, she clapped her hands like a child. “Oh, I shall have much fun in asking around to see if we can discover who this mysterious friend is!” She chuckled to herself, clearly amused by the challenge. “I do so love a good mystery!”

Jacob leaned forward as if telling a great secret. “She does, I fear. My fraa, Leah, is just the opposite. Much too much work to do and no time for playing games. But Widow Jennings does favor a good game of trying to determine who is courting whom!”

Again, Widow Jennings playfully pushed at his arm. “Now stop, Jacob! You’ll have them thinking all sorts of bad things about me! Such as I’m a gossip or bad person!”

He laughed. “You are a gossip, but surely not a bad person.” Without further delay, Jacob started for the door. “We must be going. The farrier is coming, you know.” He waited for Widow Jennings. “Farrier starts with f. I reckon it’s not him, is it now?”

They both laughed as they headed toward the door, Widow Jennings pausing in the doorway to bid them good-bye one last time. “I have no doubt we shall all become fast friends! In fact, you should dine with us every evening until your haus is properly set up. I’ll make certain to tell my dochder, Leah, to plan on that!” One quick glance around the room and her eyes bulged from her head. “And I see that fixing this place shall take quite some time, ja?”

No sooner had they left than Mary Ann turned to Eleanor and, moaning aloud, rolled her eyes in defiance. “Why did you accept their invitation, Eleanor? We’ve just arrived and she’s quite much to deal with after such a stressful day!”

Eleanor straightened her shoulders and stared directly at her sister. “It’s the right thing to do, Mary Ann. They are, after all, our hosts!”

“Of what?” Mary Ann gestured around the room mockingly. “Four walls and a roof that probably leaks when it rains? I’m surprised there aren’t any snakes in here, along with the mice and spiders.”

“That sounds rather ungrateful,” Eleanor chided.

“At the first sign of a snake in the house I will personally move back to Manheim, Fanny or no Fanny!” Maem’s indignation caused Eleanor to smile, especially when Mary Ann shivered at her own mention of snakes.

Maggie lit up at the mention of a snake. “If you do find it, don’t kill it, Maem!”

Ignoring Maggie, Maem sighed as she looked pointedly at Mary Ann. “Grateful we should be, for regardless of your initial impression of Jacob and his mother-in-law, they have been the only decent family members to step forward and offer us a place to live.” Her eyes roamed around the room. Eleanor didn’t have to wonder what her mother saw underneath the dust and cobwebs and cracked paint on the walls: hard work and a lot of it. “And I believe that ten snakes hiding in the pantry here are better than the one snake living in our former house.”

To that comment neither daughter replied. They merely shook their heads at the reference to Fanny and returned their attention to the chore at hand: cleaning their new home.