Lavinia wanted to call Abe and find out if he wanted to go to the singing, but she felt that would be pressuring him. She told herself that she’d done all she could to persuade him and resolved to let it go. It was like the saying “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink.”
So she went by herself and caught herself looking up hopefully every time she heard a buggy approach.
Groups of young men and women gathered on the lawn of her friend Arnita’s house and milled around talking to each other.
“Lavinia! You’re looking lovely,” Ben said as he walked toward her. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Danki.”
Lester, an old friend from schul, walked up behind him. “Lavinia, is Abe coming tonight?”
“I don’t know. When I talked to him after church today, he sounded tired.”
She wished now that she’d called him.
After Lester walked away, Lavinia glanced around. It felt gut to be here tonight with others her age and enjoy some free time with those she’d known all her life.
She was looking forward to seeing Arnita. They’d been friends for years since they attended schul together. But Lavinia had been so busy seeing Abe at the hospital, and Arnita was occupied helping her mudder while she cared for her mann as he went through chemotherapy.
Arnita walked over and placed a stack of hymnals on a table that had been set out on the lawn. “Help me pass these out?”
“Schur.”
“How is Abe doing?” she asked quietly.
“He’s doing well. Church tired him out, or he’d be here tonight.”
Arnita nodded. “He’s been through a lot.” She touched Lavinia’s arm. “You, too.”
“We’re just gut friends.”
“Really, really gut friends,” Arnita said with a mischievous smile.
Dating was kept confidential in their community until engagements were announced. It just worked out better that way for all concerned. If a relationship didn’t work out, others didn’t know about it. But after each singing, when it was time to leave, it was easy to see who was pairing off into couples as they walked to buggies and began a long, romantic ride home.
“So where is Saul?” Lavinia asked Arnita in turn. She knew the two were “gut friends” as well, and she expected that they would be announcing their engagement after harvest.
“He’s in the house talking to my eldres.” She sighed. “My dat had a hard day. He had chemo this morning and isn’t feeling so well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Saul seems to be a comfort to Daed when he’s not well.” She stared back at the house for a moment. “I’m going inside to check on snacks. Mamm was baking some cookies for us.”
Lavinia was glad Arnita’s dat had Saul to sit with him when he wasn’t feeling well. She saw Wayne talking to a few men on the other side of the lawn. He was a friend as well. But he hadn’t been able to come to the hospital to visit Abe because he was so busy caring for the dairy farm. Lavinia had noticed the way Wayne had quietly helped Abe at church this morning. Now she wondered if she should have asked Wayne to bring Abe to the singing.
She shook her head. Time to stop trying to help Abe. He’d resume his old activities as he felt better. She was schur of it.
Arnita came back out of the house looking concerned.
“Something wrong?”
“Daed seems worse,” Arnita said as she chewed on her thumbnail. “Mamm and I are worried about him.”
“Maybe we should cancel the singing.”
She shook her head. “Nee. Daed’s resting in the front bedroom, and I think he’ll enjoy hearing the hymns we sing.”
Lavinia nodded. “Allrecht, let’s get started then.” She motioned to their friends and they assembled, waiting to be told which hymn to begin with. Soon the gentle harmonies and uplifting lyrics drifted on the breeze. Lavinia hoped Arnita’s dat could hear them and that they gave him some comfort.
They were just singing the last notes of the third hymn when the front door of the house slammed open and Arnita’s mudder called out sharply for her.
She dropped her hymnal and ran to her. Then she went inside the house with her mudder.
“What should we do?” Lester asked Lavinia.
“Let’s give it a few minutes,” she began, but then Arnita came out of the house and walked over to them. Lavinia saw that her friend had been crying, and her heart sank.
“Daed has to go to the hospital,” she said, her lips trembling. “Mamm called the doctor, and he told her to call nine-one-one. They’re sending an ambulance.”
Lavinia turned to the group standing there looking expectantly at them. “I think we should pray for Arnita’s dat and then go home.”
There were nods, and then the group prayed briefly. Afterward, they left their hymnals on the table before talking quietly as they walked to their buggies.
“I’m going back inside to be with Mamm,” Arnita said.
Lavinia nodded, helped scoop up the hymnals, and carried them up to the porch. Arnita took them inside, then stepped out again.
Lavinia gave her a big hug. “I’ll pray for your dat. You call me and let me know how he is later, allrecht?”
Arnita nodded. “Danki.” She walked into the house and closed the door.
Lavinia stood on the porch for a moment, thinking how quickly life could change. One moment they’d been singing praise, and the next, praying for the father of their friend who was fighting cancer. With a sigh, she descended the steps and crossed the lawn.
“I thought you might need a lift,” Ben said, startling her.
She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t seen him. “Oh, I can walk home.”
“It’s getting dark. Not safe. Kumm, let me give you a ride.”
When he reached for her hand, she wouldn’t let him take it. That was too forward of him. She felt a moment’s unease, then told herself she was being silly. This was Ben. She’d known him since they attended schul.
She got into the buggy and settled back for the ride.
“Too bad we had to stop the singing,” he said as he guided the buggy down the drive and onto the road.
He pulled over as an ambulance came speeding up behind them and turned into the driveway.
“It wouldn’t have been right to stay,” she pointed out as she glanced back to see paramedics getting out of the ambulance.
“Ya. I guess.” He shrugged.
“Arnita was so worried about her dat.”
“I’m schur he’ll be fine.”
She turned and stared straight ahead. It took her a moment before she realized the direction he was headed in.
“You’re going the wrong way,” she said.
“Nee, just taking the long way home.”
“Why?”
“Give us a chance to catch up.”
She supposed it would be less than gracious not to chat with him when he was giving her a ride. But when he reached for her hand again, she shrank back against the window on her side.
“So, what’s been going on with you?” he asked conversationally, not appearing to be offended by her not wanting his touch.
“Been busy working. You?”
“Same. Daed’s been making me work too hard, as usual.”
She remembered now how he didn’t care for working very hard on the family farm. “Anyway, since we’re not having the singing I’d just like to get home,” she said. “I could do some work on a rug.”
“Aw, relax. Life isn’t supposed to be all work, you know.”
Lavinia tried not to roll her eyes at him. A few minutes later, he pulled off the road and turned to her. He reached over and traced the line of her cheek with his finger. “What do you say to us going out some evening?”
Why hadn’t she seen this coming? “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now.”
“I bet I could make you interested,” he said.
“I want you to take me home. Now.”
“Is this about Abe?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, I know you like the guy. You always did. But, Lavinia, think about it. I’ve got a lot more to offer you than he does.”
She gave him a pitying look. “Abe can offer a lot more than you, Ben. He’s never made me feel uncomfortable.”
Looking pained, Ben shifted back to his side of the buggy and picked up the reins. “Fine. Giddyap, Max. Let’s take her home.”
He sulked all the way to her house. She thanked him as she got out and was barely out of the way before he was driving off.
With a sigh, she made her way into the house. Her dat was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee when she walked in.
“You’re home early,” he said, smiling at her.
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.
“Whoa, what’s this about?”
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too. Something wrong?”
She stood back and nodded. “We canceled the singing. Arnita’s dat had chemo earlier today and felt so ill tonight that he went to the hospital in an ambulance.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Arnita said she’d call me and let me know how he’s doing. She hasn’t called, has she?”
He shook his head, then tilted it as he studied her. “Did Abe go tonight?”
“Nee. He said he was tired after church and didn’t think he’d come.” She sighed and put the teakettle on the stove, then sat at the table. “I guess it’s just as well, with what happened. He’d have gone to a lot of trouble for nothing.”
Her dat patted her hand. “Things work out for the best, Lavinia.”
“I guess.” Then, seeing him looking at her, she nodded. “I know.”
She decided she wouldn’t tell him about her ride home.
* * *
Abe knew he was hiding like a little bu in his room. He’d have stayed there for hours after he woke from a nap, but hunger won out. So he got up, struggled into his wheelchair, and rolled out to the kitchen.
His mudder turned from the sink where she was washing dishes and frowned at him. “I tried to wake you. I thought you’d want to go to the singing.”
“Nee.” He’d heard her come into his room and call his name, but he’d pretended he was asleep.
She put her hands on her hips and looked at him. “Wayne came by to say he’d be happy to take you. I told him I couldn’t wake you.”
Abe shook his head. “Too tired. I went to church.”
“And you should have gone to the singing. It would be gut to get out.”
“Leave the bu alone,” his dat said as he walked into the kitchen.
“He spends too much of his time with us,” she said as she walked to the refrigerator and got out a plate covered with clear wrap.
“Looks wunderbaar,” he said as she put the plate on the table in front of him and took off the wrap. Supper was cold baked chicken, macaroni salad, and sliced tomatoes. Perfect meal on a warm evening.
“Changing the subject,” she muttered. “Hungerich?” she asked as she poured a glass of iced tea and set it beside his plate.
“Bu’s always hungerich,” his dat said as he poured a glass of iced tea and set it on the table.
“Like dat, like sohn,” she retorted, but she smiled. “I’m going to sit down in the living room and read for a while.”
“Danki for supper, Mamm.” Abe dug into the meal as she walked out of the room.
“She worries about you.”
“I know.” He took a sip of his tea and avoided his dat’s gaze. It was tempting to say she worried about her mann, too, but he didn’t think it was polite to point that out. “I’m sorry.”
“Wasn’t easy to go out the first time, but it’ll get easier,” Faron said quietly.
“I know.” Abe set his fork down. “I just didn’t feel like pretending everything is allrecht. Does that make sense?”
His dat rested his hand on his cane at his side. “Ya, it does.”
Abe nodded. He knew how difficult the diagnosis of MS had been for his dat. There were days Faron didn’t want his fraa to know were hard for him, times Abe saw him struggling privately to put on a brave face for her. He felt guilty that his own injuries gave them worry they didn’t need after a lifetime of working hard on the farm.
There was a brief knock on the kitchen door, and then Wayne walked in.
“Singing got canceled,” he told Abe. “Thought I’d stop in and see if you needed anything before I go home.”
“Canceled? Why?”
“Arnita’s dat wasn’t feeling well.” Wayne got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the faucet. He drank thirstily. “He went to the hospital in an ambulance. So we decided to go home.”
Faron frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. He’s had a rough time with chemo.”
Wayne nodded. “So, Abe, need anything?”
He shook his head. “Nee, danki.”
Wayne set the glass in the sink. “Some of the men are going to go back tomorrow to take care of chores on his farm.”
The men in the community always helped each other with such work. Abe knew the women would do their part, too, see if they could bring meals or do laundry or housework.
Wayne left, and Abe and his dat sat in silence.
“I know it’s weighing on you, not being able to take care of the farm,” his dat said finally. “But sometimes we have to accept help.”
“I can’t lose this place after all you put into it,” Abe blurted out, then wished he could cut off his tongue.
“You’re not going to lose it. We’ve had tough times, but we’ve always survived,” his dat said firmly. “You were young so you wouldn’t remember the tough times, when we had bad weather and lost a crop. When it was hard to pay the tax bill.”
He got up, got out a lemon icebox pie from the refrigerator, and brought it to the table.
“Finish your supper and you can have a piece of pie,” he said.
Abe found it easy to do so as he watched his dat cut a slice for each of them. Nothing was better on a warm, late spring evening than a cold supper and a slice of his mudder’s lemon icebox pie.
“We’ve had it easier in some ways during the rough times,” Faron said as he forked up a bite of pie and savored it. “Living off the land, we grow much of what we need. And we need a lot less of the things that some people think they must have.”
Abe knew he meant those who were not Amish.
“My dat told me about the hard times so many experienced during the Great Depression,” he said as he ate. “He said there was a lot of food, milk, and such that the country produced. But many people had no money to buy it. My dat said he remembered your grossdaadi giving milk to familyes that needed it, giving work to everyone he could.” He looked off into the distance for a long moment, then turned his gaze to Abe. “The farm survived then. It’ll survive this hard time. You’ll heal and get strong again. You’ll find a way to make the farm thrive. Your mudder and I and everyone in the community will help however we can.”
Abe had to swallow hard against the lump that rose in his throat. He was glad now that he hadn’t gone to the singing. His dat was a man of few words, but when he spoke, he revealed a deep faith and wisdom Abe hoped he’d have one day. “Danki, Daed,” he said quietly.
His mudder came in a little while later and clucked her tongue disapprovingly when she saw her mann was eating a slice of pie.
“Had to keep the bu company while he ate his supper,” Faron said. “You go on back to your reading. We’ll take care of our dishes when we’re done.”
“Let’s not make the pie dish one of them,” she told him pertly as she scooped up the pie and returned it to the refrigerator. “That makes your third piece today.”
Faron winked at Abe as she left the room.