Chapter Thirteen
As Jeremiah approached the Miller home on Tuesday, October first, wearing his best black coat and pants with a new white shirt, he had mixed feelings about the wedding he was about to conduct—and that bothered him. Ordinarily, the sight of the wedding wagon—which was stocked with dinnerware, tablecloths, and extra stoves and ovens for putting on the meal that would serve hundreds of guests—lifted his spirits. His mood, however, matched the gray predawn sky, which was overshadowed by clouds.
It had been a frustrating week.
Three days of continual rain had postponed his corn harvest—and it had taken that many more days for the soil to dry enough that the draft horses and wagons could enter the fields without getting stuck in the mud.
But his farm work had to wait yet another day while he officiated at Gabe and Regina’s wedding. First would come the regular church service, followed by the wedding ceremony, and then a huge meal and multi-family celebration that would last the remainder of the day. Because he was the bishop, he couldn’t slip away from any of these festivities to tend his personal business—even though his livelihood depended upon working while the weather was good.
Jeremiah sighed as he drove closer to the house and the big white tents the Millers had rented to accommodate the long tables for the wedding meal. He suspected that Regina would’ve preferred holding the meal and reception in the commons at The Marketplace, but her uncle, Preacher Clarence, had probably insisted upon the traditional wedding arrangements because he was paying for some of them.
Again, Jeremiah reminded himself that Gabe’s and Regina’s families deserved his full attention—his best, most inspired wedding sermon—because the Flauds and the Millers were not only members of his congregation, they were also his dear friends. Why did he feel so restless, wishing he could drive a farm wagon for Will Gingerich rather than officiating at today’s joyous occasion?
Because it’ll be sheer torture to lead Regina and Gabe in their marriage vows while you stand only a few feet away from Lydianne.
All week he’d thought about her. One night he’d had a vivid dream about his beloved Priscilla—only to be shocked awake when she’d turned to take him in her arms, and it was Lydianne smiling at him. He was delighted that Gabe and Regina would be starting their new life together—and remaining in their cozy home in Morning Star—yet he was a desperate man.
Desperate for a woman’s touch and sigh.
Desperate for a sign from God that he should either try again with Lydianne or move beyond his desire for her.
“This, too, shall pass,” he muttered as he parked his rig alongside the pasture fence. “Get over yourself and get on with your life, man.”
Jeremiah shook his head. He was so far gone, he’d been talking to himself lately—even a couple of times when Mamm had caught him at it. He was relieved that his mother was riding to the wedding with Jude and his kids, because she’d been spending a lot of time at their place to help Leah with baby Adah, who was still too young to be out among people.
But Mamm’ll be watching you, wondering why you refuse to even chat with Lydianne. She’ll believe this wedding is the perfect place for you to spend time with a young woman who’d make you such a fine wife.
His mother was right about Lydianne making him a fine wife, even if he didn’t want to spend time with her during the wedding festivities, where the guests could observe them. The mood was buoyant as he met with Preachers Clarence and Ammon in an upstairs room to decide who would preach the two sermons during church. His colleagues agreed that he should preach during the wedding, as usual, before leading the couple in their vows.
As the three of them and Deacon Saul entered the Millers’ front room, which had been expanded by adjusting some of its movable interior walls to accommodate the huge crowd, Jeremiah anticipated a wonderful day to celebrate a fine young couple. The congregation was nearly finished singing the hymn when he and the other leaders took their places in front of the preachers’ bench.
Jeremiah looked at the front pews, occupied by the wedding party. He was aware that Gabe and Regina had gone against tradition by having only one set of side-sitters instead of two—
He coughed, stifling a reprimand that would’ve stopped the church service cold. Instead of Gabe’s cousin sitting beside him, Glenn Detweiler held the place of honor. And he was grinning as though he’d just won the lottery.
* * *
As Lydianne settled onto the front pew beside Regina, her heart felt airy and light. Because Martin Flaud, as the school board president, had called off classes so his daughters—and everyone else—could attend Gabe’s wedding, she was enjoying an unexpected day off. She felt special, wearing the new dress of deep royal blue fabric that Regina had chosen to offset her bridal dress, which her Aunt Cora had sewn from an eye-catching shade of morning glory.
With her dark red hair tucked tightly under her crisp white kapp, Regina radiated an exuberant joy that Lydianne envied. Even though it had been her own decision—her own secret—that had determined she’d forever remain a maidel, she swallowed a sigh as she leaned closer to her best friend.
“I wish you all the joy and love in the world, Regina,” she whispered as she clasped the bride’s hands.
“And I wish you the very same, Lydianne,” Regina replied softly. “Someday the right man will come along—”
Lydianne had been so focused on the bride that she hadn’t looked around the room, but movement on the men’s side made her glance in that direction. She froze.
Instead of Gabe’s cousin sitting beside him, it was Glenn. As he flashed Lydianne a triumphant grin, she had to clench her jaw to keep from crying out in protest.
How did this happen? Where’s the fellow from out of town—the cousin Gabe had invited to stand up with him right after he proposed to Regina?
Regina sucked in her breath. “Oh my,” she murmured. “I wasn’t expecting—”
As Bishop Jeremiah rose to begin the worship service, he appeared displeased about Glenn’s presence, as well. Lydianne tried to focus on his low, resonant voice as he opened the service with prayer—and then she forced herself to follow Preacher Ammon’s first sermon, Deacon Saul’s reading of the day’s Scripture, and Preacher Clarence’s longer second sermon.
Her efforts at worshipping and praising God were futile, however. The longer Lydianne thought about what Glenn must’ve done to finagle his way into the wedding party, the more upset she got. She hoped her smile didn’t appear forced as she rose with Regina to stand in front of the bishop when it was time for the ceremony.
“Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here on this special day to celebrate the sacrament of holy matrimony,” Bishop Jeremiah began solemnly. His voice, usually rich and sonorous, sounded tight with tension—as though he, too, had been stewing about Glenn’s presence.
Lydianne’s heart was pounding with such distress, she barely heard the ancient words that prefaced every wedding ceremony. She tried very hard to focus on what the bishop was saying—reminding herself that such a welling-up of negative emotions was not only inappropriate at a wedding, it was unacceptable to God, as well. But her efforts at adjusting her attitude weren’t working.
This surely must be a trick! And Glenn’s grin says he somehow wrangled his way into standing up for Gabe. This is just wrong!
As the ceremony continued, Lydianne was enveloped in a mental haze of smoky-red resentment. She stared down at her white-knuckled hands, clasped too tightly in front of her. She refused to look at Glenn, and she didn’t want to focus on Jeremiah, either, for fear he’d chastise her about her anger later—or interpret it as a sign that she’d welcome his company instead of Glenn’s.
Lydianne was vaguely aware that Regina was repeating her vows in a voice that sounded strangely nervous, considering how confident she’d seemed when the two of them had entered the room. The bride got through her part without any slips, however.
“I, Gabriel, take thee, Regina, to be my lawfully wedded wife,” the groom spoke out joyfully when it was his turn.
Of course, Gabe sounds happy—he knew about the switch in side-sitters, and Glenn’s his best friend, so he’s fine with it. Pull yourself together! Don’t you dare allow this to spoil Regina’s big day.
Lydianne put on her best smile as Bishop Jeremiah introduced Mr. and Mrs. Gabe Flaud to the guests in the crowded room. Most folks had no idea there was any friction between her and Glenn or between Glenn and the bishop, so they had probably attributed Regina’s reticence to wedding-day jitters. As applause filled the room, Lydianne reminded herself that as mature adults—older than most side-sitters—she and Glenn could surely get through the wedding dinner and the rest of the day’s festivities without any fuss.
But the trouble started immediately. When the wedding party gathered around a small table near the preachers’ bench to sign the marriage certificate, Gabe and Regina signed first, writing their names on the proper lines. When Lydianne accepted the pen from her friend, however, Glenn stepped up beside her and put his arm around her.
“Stop it!” Lydianne whispered tersely.
“Stop what?” he shot back with a wounded frown. “I thought we could slip outside and talk about—”
“I don’t want to go outside with you,” Lydianne insisted as she signed her name. “I don’t want to go out with you, either, Glenn, so just leave me—”
“Why not? Are you seeing Shetler?” he demanded hotly.
“No! I’m—that’s none of your business!”
Glenn’s jaw dropped. He looked around the large, crowded room, which had suddenly gone silent as all eyes followed their escalating exchange. “Seems you’ve made it everyone’s business now, Miss Christner,” he muttered as he picked up the pen she’d dropped on the table. After he hastily scribbled his name, he stalked toward the front door to avoid the crowd on the other side of the room.
Lydianne wanted the floorboards to open up and swallow her. As Regina, Gabe, and Bishop Jeremiah gathered around her, she felt lower than a worm for stirring up a ruckus—even as she told herself Glenn was as much to blame for it as she was.
“So where’s your cousin Mervin?” Regina asked her new husband in a frustrated whisper.
“He’s down with a nasty case of the flu,” Gabe replied apologetically. “When his brother told me about it first thing this morning, what could I do but ask Glenn to fill in? I thought it would look awkward if I sat there alone and—and because I wasn’t supposed to see you until church this morning, I didn’t have a chance to tell you, honey-girl. I’m sorry—”
“No, I’m sorry,” Lydianne interrupted as she blinked back tears. “I took it wrong when Glenn asked me to—I should’ve gone outside, as he suggested, and told him out there that I didn’t want to—”
“Glenn overstepped,” Jeremiah stated in a low voice. “He’s still in mourning—and even if he weren’t, it’s improper for him to put his arm around you in public.”
Lydianne was grateful that the bishop was standing up for her, but that didn’t stop the wedding guests from whispering. It didn’t fully restore Regina’s happiness, either, because she was clearly worried about Lydianne.
“Are you all right?” the bride whispered, grasping Lydianne’s wrist. “Even though you tell me things at school are going well—”
“They are!” Lydianne insisted.
“—you haven’t seemed like your usual cheerful self lately.”
Lydianne sighed, wishing she could pull herself together without so many people around. It was bad enough that Glenn might have left the wedding; she couldn’t abandon the wedding party, too. The bride and groom would look woefully alone if they were seated all by themselves at the special eck table in the corner of the main tent.
“Maybe you should’ve asked somebody else to be your side-sitter,” she said in a halting voice. “I never intended to—”
“I did ask Jo and the twins to join you, remember?” Regina reminded her gently. “But they thought four attendants would be too many—”
“And I was at a loss to come up with four fellows to sit with me,” Gabe put in. “Glenn was still married at that time, so I didn’t even consider him—until this morning when I was in a pinch.”
“What really matters,” Bishop Jeremiah said as he slipped his arms around the bride and the groom, “is that you two have tied the knot, and that all these folks have gathered here to celebrate with you. Years from now you’ll look back on your wedding as the happiest event in your life—and you’ll recall this minor incident with a chuckle. What passed between Lydianne and Glenn today won’t affect your love for one another one iota.”
Gabe glanced behind them, at the folks who’d resumed their conversations and were slowly going outside. “Jah, I suppose we should be making our way into the tent and accepting everyone’s congratulations,” he said to Regina. His face regained its glow. “I don’t want us to miss even a minute of this day, Mrs. Flaud! Our lives have worked out just the way we wanted, ain’t so?”
Regina’s face flushed a pretty pink beneath her freckles. “Jah, you’re right. It’s all gut—and I’ve been waiting all morning for this meal, because I was too excited to eat any breakfast.”
With a squeeze of Lydianne’s hand, Regina started toward the door with her new husband. As Lydianne watched them go, she was acutely aware that she and Jeremiah were the only folks left in the large room full of pew benches. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“Let it go, Lydianne,” he said softly. “It wouldn’t be a wedding if some unexpected little thing didn’t happen.”
When she looked gratefully into Jeremiah’s deep brown eyes, she saw a flicker of intense regret—or was it sorrow?—before he glanced away. “Denki for seeing it that way,” she murmured. “I’ll try not to cause any more trouble.”
As she took her seat beside Regina at the eck and the meal was served, Lydianne sensed folks were watching her—but they weren’t watching Glenn, because he’d chosen not to rejoin the wedding party. The traditional “roast” made of chicken and stuffing, along with mashed potatoes, creamed celery, green beans, dinner rolls, and an array of fresh pies was probably delicious, but she ate without tasting much of it. It felt odd to be the only other person seated with the bride and groom, as though she were a third wheel.
I could’ve been kinder. Glenn hasn’t recovered from the loss of his wife.
Even so, Lydianne told herself that he’d made his own moves and she couldn’t have changed them. As the first sitting of guests left the tent to allow the second sitting folks to eat their meal, she made her way between the long tables. Ladies from the congregation were wiping off tablecloths and picking up dirty dishes—but as a side-sitter, she was excused from those duties.
She stepped out into the October sunshine, wondering if she should call attention to her early departure by hitching up her rig—or simply slip behind the house to walk home, and come back later for her mare and the buggy. No one seemed to notice that she was standing alone, in a stew, so Lydianne turned to go. She felt horrible, leaving the festivities before Gabe and Regina had even cut their cake—
“Teacher Lydianne! Teacher Lydianne!” a familiar voice called out behind her.
Lydianne closed her eyes. It would be so rude, and such a bad example, if she kept on walking and ignored the little girl who’d spotted her . . . especially because Ella was so special, and her feelings would be hurt. Putting on a smile, Lydianne turned and, as the little blonde launched herself, had no choice but to catch her in an enthusiastic hug.
“I’ve been lookin’ all over for you! You look real pretty in your new dress, Teacher Lydianne,” Ella gushed. “It must be exciting, to sit right up front with the bride!”
Why would she want to contradict the angelic little girl in her arms—her very own daughter, who was gazing at her with adoring blue eyes so like Aden’s? “It’s a special honor to be a side-sitter, jah,” Lydianne agreed. “And don’t you look pretty in your new dress, too? That color of pink—”
“Mamma says the side-sitter by the bride is the one who’s gonna get married next,” Ella piped up. “Is that true, Teacher Lydianne? Are you gonna get married someday soon?”
A large knot formed in her throat. How deeply ironic it was that the cherub asking her this question was the very reason she could never marry—but she could not admit she was Ella’s birth mother, nor did she want to spoil the child’s sunny, innocent mood.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, sweetie,” she hedged when she could find her voice. “Regina asked me to be her side-sitter because we’re best friends—”
“Like me and Gracie!”
Lydianne smiled, grateful for Ella’s perceptive remark. “That’s exactly right. And besides,” she added, tweaking her daughter’s upturned nose, “if I got married, I’d have to stop being your teacher.”
Ella’s eyes widened and her mouth became a perfect O. “We don’t want that,” she whispered in a worried little voice. “So . . . if you’re not gettin’ married, that’s a gut thing for us kids, jah?”
“That’s the way I see it, too,” Lydianne replied gratefully. When she saw Julia Nissley in the crowd watching them, she waved and set Ella on the ground. “There’s your mamm, sweetie. I bet she’s ready to go into the tent and eat that yummy wedding dinner, because it’s your turn now.”
With another endearing smile, Ella raced off to rejoin her mother. Lydianne felt oddly bereft after releasing her little girl—all the more reason to escape from the crowd and deal with the emotions that had suddenly overwhelmed her.
All the way home, she kept her face turned away from the road so no one would notice she was crying as she walked. Bless her heart, Ella had stirred up a hornet’s nest of raw feelings that Lydianne thought she’d reconciled long ago.
Hadn’t she accepted the fact that because she and Aden had made a baby—and he’d died before they could marry—she would remain a maidel forever?
As her yellow house came into view, Lydianne realized just how much of a toll participating in Regina’s ceremony had taken, knowing she’d never have one of her own. Constantly reminding herself that her best friend was very happy had helped her survive the ceremony—until Glenn had assumed she was delighted to be paired up with him. His suggestive remark had triggered more angst than she could have guessed—
But that’s behind you now. Change into your old comfortable clothes and spend the rest of the day licking your wounds, so you can show up at school tomorrow with clear eyes, ready to teach those dear children.