ELIAS’S FEET FELT ROOTED TO THE WOODEN FLOOR IN the kitchen as he stared at his grandfather. “Uh . . .”
“Just going out for a late-night stroll?” Daadi pulled the flashlight from Elias’s face and put it on the table so the light was shining at the ceiling. Elias didn’t move. “Mighty cold for a walk, ya?”
“Uh, ya.”
Daadi picked up a glass and took a swallow. “Nothing like warm milk to help a man sleep.” He pointed to a plate on the table. “And a slice of your mammi’s apple crumb pie. Have yourself one.” His grandfather pushed his glasses up on his nose, then scooped up a bite with his fork.
Elias was sure his chance of seeing Elizabeth was gone. He pulled off his knit stocking hat—the black one his mother had made him two years ago—and rubbed his forehead. “I was just . . .” His heart ached at the thought of lying to his grandfather, and he wasn’t sure what to say.
Daadi nodded as he swallowed. “Ya, ya. I know.” He stood up from the table, pushed in his chair, and pointed a finger at Elias. “I reckon we don’t need to speak of this.”
Elias felt his face turning three shades of red, and he opened his mouth to respond, but his grandfather spoke first.
“Your mammi doesn’t like when I get up to eat cookies or pie this late at night. Gives me heartburn, and she says it’s not gut for me.” He smiled, his coke-bottle glasses hanging off his nose again. He was dressed in a long white shirt atop black trousers and black socks. Daadi picked up the flashlight from the table, and Elias brought a hand to his face when his grandfather shined it in his direction. Daadi stroked his long gray beard. “Which one are you anyway?”
Elias considered his options for a moment, then told the truth. “Elias.” He held his breath as he waited to see what Daadi would do next.
His grandfather lowered the light, shuffled past him, and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, Elias . . . have a nice stroll. Gut nacht.”
Elias stood still as his grandfather scooted in his socks across the living room. Elias heard the bedroom door gently close. Was this a trick?
He waited a full five minutes as he tried to decide what to do. Then he imagined how Elizabeth’s lips would feel on his, and he tiptoed out of the kitchen and closed the door behind him.
Elizabeth’s teeth chattered as she pulled the back door open, forcing it against packed snow. She pulled her flashlight from the pocket of her heavy black coat and turned it on, scanning for critters as she strode down the path to the barn. When she didn’t see anything, she walked to a haystack in the corner of the barn and sat down. Luckily, their three horses, four pigs, and three goats didn’t seem disturbed by her visit. She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing she shouldn’t have tempted Elias to travel on foot in this weather, but her heart fluttered every time she thought about him. Seeing him only once a day at lunchtime had been hard enough, but now that he would be working on the family’s home, she wasn’t sure when they could get together. This seemed like the only way, and she was sure that he was going to kiss her soon.
She stood up and paced, thinking it had been longer than thirty minutes. She poked her head out the barn door to see that all the lights at her house were still off. It was a miracle she’d managed to get out of the house with three younger sisters in the same bedroom, two older brothers down the hall, and her parents around the corner. It would be worth it when Elias walked through the door.
Elizabeth had known both the Bender twins for as long as she could remember, and from the time she was six or seven she was sure that she would grow up to marry Elias. While the boys looked the same to most people, Elias was more outgoing and confident. He never got riled or upset, and he was always happy. Elizabeth loved that about him. Amos seemed like a fine fellow, but he was incredibly shy, kept his head down, and stuttered when he got nervous. Elizabeth had tried to talk to him lots of times after the worship service, but she doubted Amos would ever venture out into the night to visit her. The barn door eased open, causing her heart to skip a few beats. Elias, or Mamm or Daed?
Her heartbeat returned to normal as Elias crossed the threshold into the barn. She brought her hands to her chest and bounced up on her toes once. “You made it.” She walked quickly toward him, stopping a couple of feet away. His face was drained of color, his breathing ragged. His black jacket and stocking cap were covered in white flakes, his teeth were chattering. She walked closer and began rubbing his arms. “You’re freezing. I should never have asked you to do this.”
But I’m so glad you’re here.
Elias wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She wasn’t sure if it was just to warm himself up; but whatever the reason, it felt good to be in his arms.
“Ach, Elias. You’re trembling.”
“I’m fine.” He shook as he held her. “I just wanted to see you.”
“I feel the same way.” She nuzzled her head into his chest. “I can feel your heart beating.”
He chuckled. Not what she was expecting. He eased away, grinning. “I almost got caught.”
“Nee. What happened?” She’d thought it had taken longer than thirty minutes.
He peeled back the rim of his black stocking hat, which had almost fallen over his eyes. “Mei daadi was sitting at the kitchen table when I tried to sneak through the kitchen.”
Elizabeth gasped. “What did you do?”
Elias shrugged, still grinning. “He was eating a piece of pie and drinking milk. He asked if I was going for a stroll. I never really answered, and he went on to bed.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself again. “That’s fremm.”
“I know.” He pulled her back into his arms. “But I had to see you.”
They stayed in the embrace for a few moments, both shivering, until Elias slowly pulled away. He gazed into her eyes, and Elizabeth was sure he could hear her heart beating.
“Elizabeth . . .” He leaned down until his lips were inches from hers. “I love you.”
Before she could answer, his mouth was firmly on hers, and she went weak in the knees. The kiss went on forever. Twice he eased away, but kissed her again. When they finally parted, she said, “I love you too, Elias.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I can’t stay long. But I’ll try to come tomorrow night.”
Elizabeth pulled from his arms and gazed into his eyes. “Nee. Don’t come.” She cupped his cheeks with her gloved hands. “It’s much too cold for you to travel by foot like this. And tomorrow is supposed to be even colder. It’s enough knowing that you love me.”
Elias smiled. “I’d walk through a blizzard to be with you, Elizabeth, even if it was only for a few minutes like tonight.” He kissed the top of her gloved hand. “I’ll be here.”
“But—”
“Don’t you want me to come?” Elias tipped his head to one side.
Elizabeth fell into his arms. “Ach, Elias. I always want to be with you, but it’s just so cold.”
“I’ll be here.”
And as Elias kissed her for the last time that night, Elizabeth was sure that she would one day be Mrs. Elias Bender.
On Monday morning the men and boys left to go work on the house, leaving Eve and her mother alone. Eve wasn’t sure how much work the menfolk would be able to get done on the house with the weather predictions, but of more concern to her was how she and her mother were going to fare all day together. Eve noticed her mother’s right hand trembling as she washed the breakfast dishes. They’d all known for over a year that Mamm had Parkinson’s disease. Eve had tried several times to get her mother to see a doctor in Lancaster, but Mamm always said that Fern Zook’s herbal recipes were working just fine.
Eve loved Fern and appreciated the work that she did, but she suspected that modern medications could help her mother’s condition far better than an herbal remedy.
Mamm’s right hand shook with might as her four fingers met with her thumb, then the familiar circular patterns began as her mother tried to steady the plate so she could run the dishrag across it.
“Mamm, I’ll finish the dishes.” She reached for the plate her mother was holding, only to have her mother shakily jerk it away.
“I’m not an invalid, Eve. I can wash the dishes. I take care of your father every day.” She scrubbed at the white plate.
Eve’s mouth hung open for a moment. “I didn’t say you were an invalid. I just offered to help.” She set her dish towel on the counter, walked to the table, and picked up the butter and jams, stowing them in the refrigerator. “What can I do to help around here today? I’ll clean the bedrooms and bathroom upstairs, but what else?” She was hoping there was plenty to do to keep them both busy and out of each other’s hair.
Her mother didn’t look up. Her hands were still in the soapy water, and strands of gray hair had come loose from beneath her black kapp. “I was hoping you’d do a couple of things for me while you’re here.”
Eve stood still, dreading what might be coming. “What’s that?”
Mamm slowly turned toward her. “I haven’t updated the family Bible since you were born. I was wondering if you’d add the boys, their birthdates and such.” She turned away and resumed washing another plate. “And there is a large section in the back for notes. Maybe you could write down certain dates that are special. Things like that.”
That was an easy enough task. Eve pointed to the living room. “The Bible you keep on the end table?”
Mamm shook her head. “Nee, I have the big family Bible in mei bedroom. It goes back five generations.” She turned around to face Eve again, wiped her hands on a dish towel, and smiled. “I always meant to update it after the boys were born, but I needed to verify the times and how much they weighed.” She paused. “And especially note the differences in the twins, since most of us can barely tell them apart.”
Eve smiled. “That’s an easy task. I’ll be glad to.” And that will take about five minutes. “What else?”
Mamm picked up her recipe box from the kitchen counter and motioned for Eve to join her at the kitchen table. She pulled out a stack of blank index cards from the back of the box.
“Most of the meals you and I make we know in our minds, ya?” Mamm raised an eyebrow, and Eve nodded. “But someday the boys will marry, and we’ll want to share the recipes. I thought you could spend some time while you’re here writing them all down.” Her mother flipped a finger along the top of the categorized cards. “Most of these are from friends, although a few of them are mine.” She leaned over and touched Eve’s hand. “But I’ve never taken the time to write down the ones I know by heart.”
Eve glanced at her mother’s hand on hers, a rare and welcome gesture, but then Mamm quickly pulled her hand away. Again Eve wondered why there’d always been such distance between them. Eve’s grandparents had passed before she was born, and her aunts and uncles lived in Ohio, along with a few cousins Eve had never met. She’d often wondered what kind of relationship her mother and grandmother had.
Mamm handed her a pen. “Do you want to start now?”
Eve slowly took the pen. “There are probably hundreds. You’ve been showing me how to cook since I was a little girl.”
“Ya. Exactly.” Her mother tapped her hand to the table, then hastily got up. “You get started, and I’ll bring you the Bible for updating. Don’t worry about the upstairs, I’ll get it.”
Eve stared at the recipe box. She thumbed through the cookie section and randomly pulled out a card. It was a recipe for boiled cookies from Rachel King. Eve remembered when Rachel gave Mamm the recipe. Rachel’s daughter, Hannah, couldn’t have been more than a year old the first time Eve babysat her. She could still recall the scrumptious cookies that Rachel had left for her to snack on. Eve had made sure not to leave that day without Rachel’s recipe. Her mouth watered as she thought about the chunky peanut butter cookies.
Eve placed the card back in its spot as she thought about Hannah, who was now a grown woman running the family’s bed-and-breakfast. She pulled out another card from the box, a recipe for sour cream pancakes that had come from Esther Stoltzfus. Esther had died years ago, but her famous sour cream pancakes lived on. Eve recalled the first time her mother prepared them, when Eve was about ten. “But Daed doesn’t like sour cream,” she had protested.
“Then we just won’t mention that there’s sour cream in them,” her mother had said, then giggled.
Eve stared at the recipe box, figuring that there was probably a story behind every card. The best times she’d ever shared with her mother were when they were cooking.
As memories filled Eve’s mind, she positioned one of the blank recipe cards in front of her. Smiling, she started to work.