CHAPTER
thirty-five

At noon the day before Thanksgiving, Sylvia sprinkled grated cheese atop the saucy winter casserole and carried it over to the table. Then, going back for an even larger bowl of steaming hot macaroni, she took that to the table, as well.

Dat and the boys were already seated, and Tommy was talking excitedly about seeing Adeline again. “Last time, she was gonna take me for a ride in her perty red car,” he said, his small voice rising. “But she left before I could.”

Dat glanced at Mamma, who was smiling in apparent amusement as she took her seat. “Maybe all of you can go for a spin,” he teased.

“I don’t think we’ll all fit.” Calvin grinned.

Ernie was shaking his head in disgust. “Puh! I won’t be goin’. A car like that is too tempting.”

“Glad to hear you say that, son.” Dat patted Ernie’s shoulder.

“Aw, but just once won’t hurt nothin’,” Tommy said, looking over at Sylvia, who sat down across from them.

“That’s what Eve said to Adam, too, remember?” Dat said with a snap of his suspenders.

“You can’t blame me for that—I wasn’t even born yet!” Tommy stated.

They all laughed.

Dat was still smiling when he said, “If you really want to ride with her once, that’s okay.”

Tommy’s eyes lit up. “I promise.”

Adam joined the conversation. “We’ll remember this talk when you’re a teenager in Rumschpringe.”

“Like Sylvie is now?” Tommy asked.

She realized that Tommy was right, even though since last May, she’d largely had the mindset of a baptismal candidate. Not that I’ve ever wanted to live on the edge of what’s expected of me.

Unlike most fellows who waited till right before they married, Andy Zook had been baptized for two years already. It was interesting that he had gone ahead with it before he had a courtship. He’s devout but doesn’t broadcast it, she thought, bowing her head for the table blessing when Dat signaled to do so.

Adeline was thankful for good traveling weather, and as she turned off Route 340 and made her way to West Cattail Road, the once familiar farming landmarks looked very different under the starlight and a dusting of snow.

She was eager to see the Millers again, especially Sylvia, after all the letters they had written, sharing their thoughts so freely these past few months. She also wanted to talk with them about the things she had read for the first time—about Jesus’s life and the remarkable miracles He’d performed, the betrayal by His friend Judas, and the hideous torture Jesus endured before He was hung on a cross. Killed like a criminal though completely innocent, she thought, tears springing to her eyes.

Turning into the Millers’ driveway, Adeline recalled the first time she arrived there, last August. The memories rushed back . . . her hesitancy to ask Sylvia if she could talk to Earnest, then meeting him and Rhoda and their four lively sons.

This time will be different, she thought, turning off the ignition. I’m no longer a stranger. . . .

She remembered to go to the back door, and before she could knock, Rhoda opened it, her smile spreading across her rosy cheeks. “Kumme in out of the cold, dear.” Then Earnest was right there, too, taking her bags and welcoming her with a joyful expression.

It didn’t take long for Ernie and the younger boys to come running, and she was touched by the warm reunion.

When Sylvia came downstairs, the two of them embraced.

“I’m so glad to see ya,” Sylvia said as she walked her to the spare room, where a lamp was lit and Earnest had already placed her luggage on the floor. “I can’t believe you’re here!” Sylvia’s eyes were bright.

“I am, and look at you, all glowing!” Adeline exclaimed. “Do you have something to tell me?”

Sylvia’s eyes danced. “Later.”

“I can’t wait!” Adeline laughed.

“I’m sure it’s exactly what you’re thinkin’.”

“Really? Well then, come here!” Adeline hugged her happily again.

“I’d love to say more, but Mamma has the dessert ready.”

They headed back to the kitchen, where the boys stood around, waiting to take their seats on their same long wooden bench.

“How was the trip?” Earnest asked as he took his chair at the head of the table.

“Thanks to cruise control, I made excellent time, until I came through York, where there were some snowy patches,” she said. “I got up at four-thirty and was on the road before six. I only needed to stop occasionally since I packed a lunch and some healthy snacks.”

“You must be hungry, then,” Rhoda said, bringing a big pumpkin pie to the table. Adeline had written to Sylvia in one of her recent letters that it was her favorite dessert. There was also homemade vanilla ice cream and pumpkin-cinnamon muffins. “If you want something more substantial, I can easily warm up some leftovers.”

Adeline took her up on the offer while the rest of the family enjoyed dessert.

Later, after the dishes were washed, Adeline invited Sylvia to her room, and she asked how things were coming along with Andy Zook. Sylvia revealed that they were seeing each other once a week now.

“This is so great!” Adeline said with a smile. “This guy’s obviously fallen for you.”

Sylvia’s face turned pink. “I like him, too.”

“A lot?” Adeline asked, dying to know.

Sylvia nodded. “But keep it mum for now, okay? Otherwise, Dat and Mamma will have us hitched before the day’s over.”

They both laughed heartily at that, then continued talking late into the night. Adeline was surprised how wide-awake she still was after the early morning and nearly twelve-hour drive. It was Sylvia who politely suggested she take a nice warm shower and get some rest.

“I’ll see ya in the mornin’.” Sylvia went to the bedroom door and turned to smile at her. “It’ll be a wunnerbaar-gut Thanksgiving Day.”

Adeline agreed and watched her tiptoe out.

The next morning, Adeline’s phone beeped her into consciousness, and she smiled sleepily when she rolled over to reach for it and saw Brendon’s text: Happy Thanksgiving to the love of my life!

Aw, you’re sweet . . . thx, she texted back, yawning.

I’ll catch you later, Addy.

OK. Have a good turkey day! She smiled as she slipped out of bed, glad he would be spending the afternoon with close friends.

Sylvia and Adeline worked alongside Mamma in the kitchen an hour before breakfast, cleaning the big turkey and preparing it for stuffing. Sylvia was thankful for the extra company as, after breakfast, they peeled oodles of potatoes and boiled them to make creamy mashed potatoes for the feast. There would also be savory gravy, homemade bread, buttered carrots, and lima beans, with everything timed to be done at the same moment. In the meantime, Sylvia and Adeline went down cellar to get some apple butter and sweet and sour pickles.

Adeline gasped at the sight of the more than eight hundred jars of canned goods perfectly lined up and alphabetized. “Looks like you were busy after I left!” she observed, and Sylvia smiled.

At noon, Dawdi and Mammi Riehl joined them, pleased to see Adeline again. They asked her about the drive from Georgia and made small talk about her studies, too.

When they were all seated around Mamma’s table, Dat bowed his head and prayed longer than usual. To her delight, Sylvia noticed that Adeline folded her hands and bowed her head with them this time.

After everyone had stuffed themselves on the delicious meal and dessert, Dat read a psalm. An atmosphere of thankfulness and love filled the house, and Sylvia couldn’t remember a more special Thanksgiving dinner.

That afternoon, Adeline showed Mamma and Sylvia the progress she’d made on her wall hanging. Mamma seemed impressed as she noted the careful stitching.

“What sort of pattern do ya want for your quilting stitches?” Sylvia asked.

“Well, hearts, but I was hoping you could help me with the stitching,” replied Adeline.

“Sure, I’ll help ya stitch it, if you’d like,” Sylvia said, looking at her mother. “Mamma could pitch in occasionally, too.”

“Let’s do it!” Adeline agreed.

So Sylvia and Adeline set to work, two sets of hands coming together to create something of beauty.

Later, after a supper of turkey sandwiches and leftovers, Sylvia invited Adeline to her room again, where she let Adeline read Titus’s final letter.

“So you’re totally free.” Adeline gave her a thumbs-up. “How does it feel?”

“It gave me the added confidence I needed to move forward with Andy,” Sylvia said.

“I’m happy for you, Sylvie. You deserve someone who loves you for you.”

She didn’t know whether to say thank you or what. It was exactly what Sylvia had hoped and prayed for.

They talked about how surprising it was that Andy, now also a preacher’s son, had no problem courting her when Titus had.

Then, after they’d discussed all of that, Adeline said rather hesitantly, “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this, so please think over what I’m about to ask.” She was sitting at the foot of the bed, leaning back against a large pillow.

“Okay,” Sylvia said, uncertain what to expect.

“Guess I’ll just put it out there.” Adeline inhaled and raised her eyebrows as if she was a little nervous.

“It’s okay—we can talk freely, ya know,” Sylvia told her, wondering what on earth was giving her such a case of nerves.

“Would you be in my wedding next May?” Adeline looked like she was holding her breath. “I’m hoping that would be permitted . . . but only say yes if you want to.”

“Want to? I’d love that, and jah, I can be in it, since I’m not baptized yet.” Sylvia explained that since she was still in her Rumschpringe, she could do practically whatever she wanted. “But what would I wear?”

Adeline smiled, pulling her hair back and letting it go. “I’ve decided on long black taffeta dresses for Callie and Piper,” Adeline said. “Black for the maid-of-honor and bridesmaids is quite fashionable now.”

Sylvia was still as she pondered this.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just thinkin’,” Sylvia said. “I could sew up a new black dress and matching cape apron, if ya like. I wouldn’t think of wearin’ fancy clothes, I’m sure ya know.”

Adeline immediately agreed. “That’s perfect. I just want you in it, because . . . well, you’re the only sister I have.”

Sister? Sylvia caught her breath. “I’m honored,” she said, a little stunned. “Now maybe I should ask where the wedding’s gonna be.”

“That’s another thing we should talk about.” Adeline described the garden location, then mentioned that she’d be happy to fly her to Atlanta.

“Oh my.” Sylvia wasn’t sure if she should throw a damper on Adeline’s excitement. “We Amish don’t ever travel by plane. But I could come by passenger van or train.”

“Whatever’s best. I’ll pay your way, so don’t worry about that,” Adeline said, then added, “This is so great!”

When they had said good-night and Adeline had gone downstairs to the spare room, Sylvia fell back onto the bed, scarcely able to believe it.

She thinks of me as her sister! she thought. And we truly are.

———

Earnest agreed that, unusual for an Amish person though it was, it would be special for Sylvia to be in Adeline’s wedding. He hadn’t realized until just now how close the two girls had become.

“Are ya sure you want to do this?” Rhoda asked their daughter as she sat with them in their bedroom.

“I am.” Sylvia beamed. “I know Georgia’s a long way away, but I’ll be gone for only a short time, and I’ll be with Adeline, too. But Preacher Kauffman might look on it as more unwanted drama happening over here, ya know.”

“I see what ya mean,” Rhoda said, glancing at Earnest. “What do you think, love?”

“Well, since Sylvia isn’t a church member yet, it should be all right, jah? Technically she’s free to do this.”

“I’ll only go with your blessing and Mamma’s,” Sylvia was quick to say.

“What about the bishop’s?” Rhoda suggested.

Sylvia looked at her father, concerned. “Should I go an’ talk to him?”

“Or better yet, Preacher Benuel,” Rhoda spoke up.

Earnest considered this. “Might not hurt, jah.” He paused. “I’ll go with you to ask him, if you’d like.”

Sylvia nodded as if glad for his support.

Hoping this wouldn’t open another can of worms, Earnest wondered how Benuel would instruct Sylvia. The most devoted and serious Christians practice self-denial. Will he ask her not to expose herself further to the world by being in Adeline’s wedding?

Sylvia said good-night to them and left their room, and Earnest outened the light.

Amos Kauffman was right, he thought. It’s one thing after another over here.