In the days since Graham had come by, Mattie kept herself busy. It wasn’t hard to do. After a year spent mostly being sick or bedridden, much of the usual spring and fall cleaning chores had been pushed to the side.
Now there was much to do to help get the house back in order. And because there was so much to do, Mattie was happy to help her mother in any way that she could.
For the last two hours, Mattie had been helping her mother organize and clean her sewing closet—and what a mess it was! Stacks and stacks of fabric, shoe boxes packed with knickknacks, sewing notions, and old mementoes filled every corner. Not even a year’s worth of sickness could create this nest of a mess. No, this was only possible after years and years of being a packrat.
As Mattie opened one old shoe box and found six sets of laces and two skeins of yellow yarn, she sighed. Had her mother ever met an item that she couldn’t justify keeping and storing away?
“Muddar, we need to get rid of some of these things.”
Over her shoulder, her mother glanced at the contents of the box. “Those items are perfectly useful.”
“Indeed. They are useful for someone who will use these things. You haven’t knitted in years.”
“But I still remember how.”
“And the shoelaces? Mamm, no one has worn the shoes these go with since I was in school.”
Her mother wavered. “Perhaps . . .” She reached for one, held it up, and inspected it. “Or, they might be useful for trim? Or cording?”
“Maybe for someone else.” Encouraged that her mother was at least thinking about clearing up some of the mess, Mattie held up a large basket filled to the brim with scraps of all different shades and colors. “And look at all this. We could surely get rid of all these scraps.”
“Oh, no we could not. These scraps can make a very good crazy quilt.”
“Mamm, we’re not going to be making crazy quilts anytime soon.”
“We might. Daughter, you need to learn to be thrifty. Everything can be used for something.”
“That is true. But, Mamm, some of this fabric you’ve had for years.” She pulled out a piece from near the bottom of the stack. “Plus, it’s all mighty dirty and dusty!”
“It can be washed . . .”
“Really? You want to spend the afternoon washing old scraps of fabric?”
“Nee. But it’s still useful.”
“Why don’t we make a sack of scraps and take it to some of the older ladies in our community. You know how they like to make crazy quilts. They will put it to good use. They are always passing out blankets and quilts to people in need.”
Her mother bit her lip, obviously wavering. “But—”
“And then I will have made good on my promise to Daed,” Mattie said, talking as quickly as she could. Pressing forward, she added, “You know Daed asked me to help you clean this out. If I don’t help you, Daed will wonder what we did today.”
“Your father has enough to worry about without concerning himself with storage closets.” Her mother seemed disgruntled as she looked up from inspecting a violet-colored floral cloth about the size of a pillowcase. “If we don’t tell him, he won’t know.”
“I will. Come now, Mamm. Let’s make a dent in this.”
“All right.” After treating Mattie to a disappointed expression over her shoulder, she left, then returned with a large paper grocery sack. “We will fill this to the brim, but that is it for today, jah?”
“That will be enough,” Mattie replied. There were more boxes of half-filled spools of thread, needles, buttons, and thimbles, but Mattie knew better than to push her luck. Getting her mother to give up anything was a true accomplishment.
She settled for pulling the fabric out for her mother, then folding the discarded pieces and placing them neatly in the sack.
They worked together in unison for a time, hardly speaking. Mattie relaxed, enjoying the easy, mindless task, as well as the sense of accomplishment. In no time, they would have the sack filled, then could dust a bit.
On her knees, her mother competently lifted the fabrics and sorted. Then spoke. “So, dear. What did Graham want when he came over the other night? It seemed terribly late for him to come calling.”
Now, where on earth had that come from? Just like that, the tables had turned. And now she was the one who was worried about coming up with the right answers.
Though in this case, she wasn’t even sure if she had the right answers to describe what had happened between them.
“Mattie? Did he want something special?”
Right then and there, she thought about his kisses. And the way he’d held her close.
And the way she’d felt in his arms. So right. So complete.
But of course she couldn’t tell her mother any of that. Fumbling with her folding, she attempted to school her voice and features. “Oh, it was nothing,” she muttered at last. “He only came over to say hello.”
“To say hello? So late at night?”
“He had forgotten the time.” Oh, the lies were coming quick now!
“If Graham Weaver is forgetting the time, then it surely wasn’t nothing. He must have wanted something badly.”
Oh, he had.
There it came again. A flash of memory. Recalling the glint of satisfaction that had appeared in his eyes before he left, Mattie felt her neck heat. A hint of wariness coursed through her as she remembered his touch. The way he’d held her in his arms.
Right before he’d kissed her.
Mattie lifted her chin. Deciding that her mother was asking too many pointed questions to be coincidence, she decided to tackle the conversation directly. “Mother, what exactly did you see?”
After picking up a dark navy square her mother eyed it, then set it in her keeper pile. “What did I see? Nothing, of course. Your father and I were half asleep.”
Mattie relaxed. For a moment there, she’d thought her mother had spied on her and Graham.
“But I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I heard his tone, Mattie.” Shifting until she sat comfortably cross-legged on the floor, she added, “He seemed terribly agitated. What was bothering him?”
Mattie shook her head. She was still surprised by what had been on Graham’s mind—that she was seeing William. He’d been jealous. Well, until he’d kissed her and made them both forget everything . . . but how good it felt to be in each other’s arms. “Oh, you know Graham,” she said lightly. “What isn’t bothering him? He’s such a worrywart.”
Her mother raised a brow. “A worrywart? Hmm. You know, I never really thought he was much of a worrier. No, he’s always seemed more of an easygoing sort of man to me.” After picking up two swatches of purple and pink, her mother wrinkled her nose. “I never did care for these. Here you go,” she murmured.
Mattie took the fabric and set it inside the sack. “Well . . . he is. A worrywart, that is.”
“Perhaps he can’t help it. Some people like to fret.”
“I would agree with you, except he lets things bother him that aren’t any of his business.”
“Such as?”
Why do you always say so much? she chided herself. “Such as his brothers’ lives.”
One of her mother’s eyebrows rose. “Why would he worry about them? I’ve never seen Loyal or Calvin so happy.”
“They are happy. Which is why Graham shouldn’t be worrying,” she said lightly.
Pitifully. Oh, but it was so obvious that she was fibbing!
“Mattie, were you arguing about Jenna?” she said softly.
“No. I know he did not father Jenna’s baby.”
“I hope not. Her mother is so upset.”
“As is Jenna. Mamm, they kicked her out of their house!”
“I’m sure they’d welcome her back with open arms if she’d just tell them who fathered her baby. She’s been lying, Mattie. That is serious, don’t you think?”
“Well, yes. I suppose.”
“You suppose?”
Mattie took the four pieces of black fabric and added them to the sack. Now it was almost full. Thank goodness! “I know her troubles are great, but I’d be the one lying if I acted like the world was ending over her pregnancy. There are much worse things to fear than gossip, or a loss of reputation.”
Her mother stilled. “I suppose you are right. After all, we’ve been through worse. Much worse.”
“Mamm?” she asked hesitantly. “Why do you think Jenna lied?”
“I couldn’t guess . . .”
“But if you had to?”
Her mamm lifted one shoulder the way she did when she was at a loss for words. “Maybe the truth is too awful to admit. Maybe she thought Graham would be his usual easygoing self and not say a word. Or maybe she thought he liked her enough to offer to marry her, no matter what.”
“I’m glad he didn’t.”
“Mattie, the things you say.”
“I can’t help it. Graham is one of my best friends. I hate the thought of someone trying to trap him into marriage.”
Looking at her speculatively, her mother said, “I can see why you’d think that.”
“But that said, I still do feel very sorry for Jenna, being tossed out like she wasn’t good enough. It seems terribly harsh to me.”
“Mattie,” her mother said after a pause, “between you and me, I agree with you.”
“You do?”
She reached out and brushed her cheek lightly with two fingers. “Most definitely. Daughters are precious things. I would miss you terribly if you weren’t with me.”
“I’d miss you too, Mamm,” Mattie said softly.
Her mother got to her feet. “So now that we’ve talked about Graham . . . what are you going to do about William? Will you see him again?”
“I suppose so. He’s planning to come over here tonight.”
“What if he is not the man who God has planned for you?”
“If he’s not, then I certainly hope He will guide me to the right man sooner than later. I want to begin my life again. I want to fall in love and get married and have a houseful of bopplis.”
Her mother burst out laughing. “Oh, Mattie, but you do make me happy,” she said. “I promise, you will have all those things. As soon as you let our dear Lord have a chance. The way you go on, why, He hardly has time to work miracles.” She laughed again as she walked to the door.
“I’m going to make us some lunch.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I finish cleaning up.”
“Danke, daughter.”
As she watched her mother walk away, Mattie thought about miracles. She held her hands to her scarred chest and wondered if she had the nerve to ask God for more than her fair share of them.
After all, He had already given her one miracle—her health. Suddenly it seemed, after a mighty difficult journey, that she was starting to get everything she’d ever wanted. Her body was healing. Her relationship with her mother was smoother.
And then there was Graham. She’d always known he was important to her. She’d certainly come to depend on his friendship. But maybe it was time to see if there was a whole lot more to their relationship?
As she thought of their kisses, she felt her cheeks heat. Everything with Graham had felt so right. Why, one kiss had turned into two . . . then three.
Now all she had to do was decide if taking a chance on an uncertain relationship with Graham was worth jeopardizing the friendship they had. Had God given her and Graham to each other because He knew their love was meant to be?
Could it really be that easy?