I don’t think we’re going to see any more customers,” Lavinia told her mudder as she looked out the front window of the shop.
The bad storm that had been predicted had arrived. A few customers had come in early in the day, but when thunder boomed and the rain grew heavier, the sidewalks and streets emptied of locals and tourists.
Lavinia walked back to her table and returned to stocking shelves.
And then she heard the strangest sound—a pinging at the front display window. She hurried to it and her eyes widened.
“Mamm! Come look! There’s hail!”
Rachel hurried over, and they watched as balls of ice as big as walnuts rained down and bounced off the sidewalk and street.
“Haven’t seen hail that big in years,” she told Lavinia. She frowned and grasped Lavinia’s hand. “We need to pray. This isn’t gut for the crops.”
They prayed, and Lavinia felt some relief when the hail stopped a few minutes later. But the rain continued to pound down. They walked away from the window. Lavinia returned to stocking shelves, and her mudder sat down at her loom.
Lavinia always loved watching her mudder weave at the loom set up in a corner of the shop. She looked so peaceful, almost as if she was in another world as she worked the shuttle in a rhythmic motion through the strands of yarn. Layers of color and pattern formed and lengthened. It was an old craft, one Rachel had learned how to do from her own mudder as a maedel and soon discovered she had a talent for.
After selling the place mats and throws she made at farmer’s markets and such, she took a risk, with the support of Lavinia’s dat, and opened the shop in town, inviting other Amish who made arts and crafts to sell their work alongside hers. Her hard work—at her own craft and in promoting the arts and crafts of other Amish—had made her shop successful.
Lavinia was proud of her dat for encouraging her mudder to have her own work and not just be there as a farm fraa. It might have been easier for him to have her home every day sometimes, but they had the kind of partnership she hoped to have with a mann someday. She knew she’d want to continue the craft she loved and work in the shop like her mudder, to be a gut businesswoman as well as a gut fraa and mudder.
Thunder boomed again, and she cast a wary eye toward the display window. But her mudder continued to work, looking like a center of calm in spite of it. That’s what she was for her familye. Lavinia told herself not to worry about the storm and to concentrate on what she could control.
Time always passed slowly when there were no customers, but after she’d done everything she could think of, Lavinia sat down to work on another rag rug and found some peace while the storm raged. The rug she worked on was all bright, bold colors she’d decided to make into a large oval for a living or dining room. She got a lot accomplished by the time they took a break.
Lavinia caught her mudder up on what was happening with her old schoolteacher, Phoebe, and they decided they’d stop by the next day after work to give Ruth, Phoebe’s dochder, a break. Rachel called them and left a message on their answering machine. After she finished, she put the phone down and sighed. “When we get home, we’ll call the other women in the church and set up a schedule to help Ruth.”
Closing time finally came. They ran for Liz’s van when she parked at the curb. Even with umbrellas, they still jumped into their seats damp and a little chilled. The temperature had dropped with the hailstorm. The drive home was quiet, as passengers stayed silent so Liz could concentrate on the slick roads. Lavinia could see others looking worried as they peered out the windows. Whether you owned a farm or not, you were concerned with weather affecting crops this time of year.
Thankfully, the rain lessened by the time Liz pulled in front of their house. They skipped the umbrellas and ran for the house, standing on the front porch and shaking raindrops off before they went inside.
Her dat came out of the kitchen and greeted them with a relieved smile. “I’m glad you got home safely. That was some storm.”
“You weren’t out in the fields when it started, were you?”
Lavinia knew her mudder worried because years ago a storm had blown up quickly and lightning had struck a tree on the edge of the field where a group of men, including Amos, had been working. One of the men had nearly been trampled by the plow horses frightened by the noise.
He shook his head. “I got the horses in safely before it started.” He kissed his fraa on the cheek. “I just put the casserole you left in the refrigerator in the oven. Why don’t the two of you change out of those wet clothes while I go out and check on things?”
They headed upstairs. Lavinia took off her dress and pulled on another, then hung the damp dress up to dry. As she went downstairs, she heard someone knock at the kitchen door. She hesitated, remembering the time Ben had stopped by. Nee, he wouldn’t be back. She continued on down the stairs and opened the door.
To her relief, it was Luke, a friend of her dat’s. She invited him in, but the man shook his head and said he wanted to see how Amos’s crops had fared. He went out to the barn when told that was where Amos was.
Supper was ready when her dat returned with a relieved expression. “The storm did less damage than I feared. Luke told me that his was the same. Let’s hope other farmers in the area weren’t affected too badly.”
After supper, both her eldres got on phones—her mudder to line up other women to help Ruth, and her dat to check with other farmers.
Lavinia took care of doing the dishes and then cleaning up the kitchen. Afterward she felt restless. Unsettled. Abe wasn’t returning her calls. She’d called him twice today and each time had gotten his voicemail. She didn’t want to take a walk or work on a rug or read a book. She didn’t know what she wanted to do. With a sigh, she went up to her room, but it was too early to go to bed.
She walked over to stare out the window. Lonely. She wasn’t just feeling restless and unsettled. She was feeling lonely and concerned. Why was Abe not calling her back?
Unbidden, the memory of what had happened last year to her friend Lovina Zook came to mind. Lovina had been planning to marry Daniel Lapp after harvest, but he’d suddenly stopped calling and seeing her, and then not only did he leave her at the altar—he left town. Lovina had been so shaken she still wasn’t seeing anyone. One day, when they’d talked after church, Lovina had actually voiced the fear that she’d become en alt maedel. Lavinia had reassured her that it was unlikely, reminding her friend she was only twenty-two and it was way too early to be thinking that way.
And it was very silly for Lavinia to be thinking something was wrong just because Abe hadn’t called her for one day. Abe would never treat her the way Daniel had Lovina. He wasn’t like Daniel at all. She was letting her imagination run wild, and she never did that. But while one unreturned call meant Abe was busy, two, then three couldn’t be ignored. She needed to know why he wasn’t calling. Surely if something had happened to him she’d have heard about it. If his farm had sustained damage from the storm, they would get through it together after they were married.
If she truly believed that God had set aside a man for her and that man was Abe, she needed to have some faith and some patience and not stress over the fact that he hadn’t called her since the big storm. Ya, usually they talked by phone several times a day and often saw each other daily. But one day without either a call or seeing each other was nothing to worry about. She laughed and shook her head again. Just how much faith and patience did she have to have?
Grabbing the work tote that she’d tossed on her bed, she pulled out the rug she’d started at the shop and began working on it. Being busy helped keep her from worrying. She reminded herself of what Phoebe had always said about worry being arrogant—that God knew what he was doing. Soon the repetitive motions of her hands soothed her restlessness. She had a good portion done by the time her eldres stopped by her door to say gut nacht.
Lavinia smiled after they left her. It was worth the wait to have a marriage like theirs, wasn’t it? A love that began with God first and then with each other, a partnership and support through all the joys and tears of life, a foundation to build a happy familye on.
She gazed off into the distance and daydreamed for a moment, imagining, as she didn’t often allow herself to, how it would feel when she and Abe married after the harvest. How she would feel when they had kinner like her schweschder.
* * *
Abe found he was clenching his jaw as he waited for Wayne to get back from walking the fields to check for storm damage. He felt so helpless sitting here in the kitchen.
His dat must have noticed his tension. He patted his shoulder as he walked past him. “Coffee?”
Abe shook his head. “Nee. Danki,” he added when he realized he’d been abrupt in his refusal.
With his MS, his dat couldn’t go out to the muddy fields either. The only sound in the kitchen was the rustle of papers as his dat turned the pages of The Budget as he sipped his coffee. How could he stay so calm?
Faron glanced up as if he heard Abe’s thoughts. “Everything will work out. Stop worrying.”
“I didn’t need anything else to go wrong.”
“God knows what we can bear.”
Abe stared down at the cast on his arm and shook his head. “He’s giving me credit for a lot more than I think I can bear.”
Waneta walked in. “Bear? Somebody hungry as a bear?”
Faron chuckled. “Our bu is sitting here worrying. Thinks God’s giving him more than he can bear. Tell him he’s wrong, Waneta.”
“Listen to your dat,” she told Abe. “He’s right.” She glanced at the kitchen clock. “Time to start supper.”
She bustled about, getting a big bowl of ham salad and another of pasta salad from the refrigerator and setting them on the table. “I’m glad I got the lettuce in before the storm.” She washed a head of it off at the sink, pulled it apart and patted the leaves dry, then arranged it on a plate with some sliced cucumbers and tomatoes. “It’s nice to have a cold supper on a warm afternoon,” she said.
“Hmm,” Faron murmured in agreement.
Wayne walked in, and Abe’s heart sank when he saw his expression. He took a seat next to Abe and pulled out his cell phone. Faron joined them. “Took some photos so you could see.”
He scrolled down on the screen, and Abe sighed at the sight of hay, corn, and soybeans that looked like a giant foot had trampled them into the mud.
“We’ll salvage what we can, but I reckon we’re going to end up having to buy some feed,” Wayne said as he finished showing the photos.
“A lot of feed,” Abe said, feeling sick to his stomach.
Faron took his seat again. “It happens some years. We’ll manage.”
We, thought Abe. He felt guilty that because he’d had his accident, his dat and mudder were helping him, when they’d turned the farm over to him and should be doing some relaxing in their later years.
“Well, let’s eat,” Waneta said cheerfully. “Everything looks a little better after a gut meal.”
Abe worried the price of hay and corn and soybeans would rise if they were in short supply. And he hoped that the other farms that raised these crops hadn’t been dealt the same crushing blow this was to him.
“Wayne? Joining us?”
“That’d be great,” he said as he walked over to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. “My eldres are at my bruder’s tonight.”
After the prayer, the bowls and serving plates were passed around, and everyone began eating. Everyone but Abe. He pushed a spoonful of the pasta salad around on his plate. Food was the last thing on his mind—at least food for himself. Waneta passed him the basket of bread so he could make a sandwich of the ham salad. He made half a sandwich and tried to eat a few bites. He knew she’d fuss if he left the table without eating anything.
When the meal was finished, Waneta brought out a lemon icebox pie. Faron perked up as she set it on the table. “Where’d you hide that?”
She smiled. “I’m not telling.”
The dessert was one of his mudder’s best pies, but even that couldn’t tempt him out of his depression. He shook his head when his mudder offered him a slice.
“Danki. Maybe later.” He pushed away from the table and left the room.
He walked out to the front porch and stared moodily at the rain-soaked grass and fields. The bishop passed in his buggy and raised a hand in greeting. He was undoubtedly out checking on his flock, seeing how they’d been affected by the storm. That meant he might stop by here. Abe sighed. He knew Lester meant well, but he didn’t think he could take being told about God’s plan and how all would work out and such, like his dat had done. But he had no escape.
He retreated to his room, and if the man stopped by, no one came to his room to tell him they had a visitor. He ignored another call from Lavinia on his cell phone and felt even worse.
* * *
Sunday came, and Abe’s mudder wasn’t having any excuses about him not attending church. “I heard all of them when you were a bu, and they didn’t work then,” she said sternly.
“But I’m having a lot of pain in my back,” he repeated. “The bad weather we had didn’t help my injury. Maybe I’m getting arthritis like Grossdaadi had.”
“Then maybe we need to see the doctor tomorrow.”
He didn’t want that, either.
“Might as well hear some healing words from God while you hurt,” Waneta said practically. “Now do you need help dressing?”
He pulled his sheets up to his chin. “Nee, Mamm. I’m not a boppli.”
She shrugged. “I’ll send your dat in. Hurry it up if you want breakfast.”
He knew he wouldn’t make it through the three-hour service if he didn’t eat, especially after having had so little supper the night before. So he was already at the door of his bedroom when his dat appeared.
Faron grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t need my help.”
“If we were dead, she’d still insist we had to attend church,” he muttered.
“Ya.” His dat chuckled.
A half hour later, Abe was in an even worse mood about attending church services. He hadn’t known that they were being held at Lavinia’s house this Sunday. He cast his eyes heavenward and wondered what God was planning. Since church services were at Lavinia’s house, he’d be seeing her, and he was feeling depressed about the crop damage. He grimaced.
“Somebody’s in a gut mood this morning,” Wayne remarked, misunderstanding his grimace.
“Can’t be Abe,” Waneta said as she climbed out of the buggy and proceeded up the walk to the house. “He’s been brooding since you showed him the crop damage.”
“I don’t brood,” Abe muttered.
“Hah!” she retorted.
“Woman can hear everything,” Abe said, shaking his head.
“I heard that!”
Wayne grinned as they climbed the steps and went into the house. Then Abe saw Lavinia standing in the living room, greeting church members. They moved on, and then she saw him.
“Abe.” She looked startled, as if she hadn’t expected to see him.
“Guder mariye,” he said.
“You haven’t been returning my calls. I thought something was wrong.”
“Sorry.” He couldn’t look at her. “Been busy.” He shifted uncomfortably, and his hand began to sweat on his cane.
“Rebecca! Guder mariye,” Lavinia said as the midwife walked up. “Save me a seat, will you?”
He realized he was holding things up, so he started to walk past her.
“Abe?”
He stopped but didn’t look at her. “Ya?”
“We need to talk after church.”
“I came with my eldres.” It was a pitiful excuse but the only one he could think of.
“I’m schur they won’t mind waiting a few minutes for you,” she said crisply.
He found a seat in the men’s section and brooded. She’d find a way to make him talk to her. How was he going to tell her he just didn’t see a way for them to get married with his farm going down the drain? She had to see that they needed to put off marrying until next year.
You’re going to lose her, his conscience told him.
His shoulders slumped and he stared at his hands clasped in his lap.