Chapter 40
One more pot.
One more serving dish.
One more ladle.
Bonnie rested her forearms on the sink.
She scratched her nose with her sudsy hand. It only made the itch worse. A few more pots and pans and she’d be done—with the lunch’s dirty dishes. In plenty of time for the supper meal of roasted chicken and stuffing, mashed potatoes, noodles with brown butter and cheese, lettuce salad, beets, green beans, and watermelon. More cake, but also three kinds of pie. Every dish she’d washed would be dirtied again.
“Stop daydreaming, will you, and wash that casserole dish.”
Opal flapped a damp dish towel at Bonnie.
“I have to finish up quick.
I need to go to the bathroom pronto.”
“Run along, go, don’t wait.
I’ll dry it.”
Bonnie flicked a soap bubble at her friend, who was big enough now that she probably wouldn’t do any running.
Despite being six months pregnant, she’d done a full shift drying dishes while several other women had been recruited away from the job for other tasks as new folks were seated for lunch.
Through it all, her dark-brown eyes sparkled with good humor.
Her chestnut hair remained perfectly contained behind her prayer covering and her dress unwrinkled.
“You should get off your feet, anyway. Have some cold tea. You look overheated.”
Opal popped the bubble and sent another flying back at Bonnie.
“Danki.
I need to check on Tucker.
If he naps much longer, he won’t sleep tonight, and I need my sleep.”
“Go. I’m gut.”
Between the warm water and the hot breeze wafting through the open kitchen windows, she was sweaty and her throat parched, but she enjoyed finishing a job strong.
“Give him a kiss for me.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll take that towel.
You go see your bopli bu.”
Her mom tugged the dish towel from Opal.
“I’m rested and ready for another round of work.”
Hand on her lower back, Opal shuffled away as fast as her swollen feet could carry her.
Bonnie hadn’t seen Mom approach.
Her mother’s face was overly pink as if she’d spent too much time in the sun, but a smile belied any discomfort from it.
Bonnie handed over the casserole dish.
“That was a smooth handoff.”
“It’s all about timing.”
Mom wiped the dish dry with quick, efficient swipes.
“And energy.
I just ate a piece of cake and drank a big glass of extra-strong, sun-brewed sweet tea.”
Sugar and caffeine.
That would do it.
“I’m about done myself.
They did the rest of the pots and pans in the wagon.
Elizabeth is supervising so you can imagine how quickly they’re moving. It’s time for the next shift to take over here. Sarah, Harriet, and Hannah, if I remember right.”
“Gut.
I wanted to talk to you, anyway.
You look like you need a cold drink yourself.”
“I’ll stick with lemonade.
I don’t need anything that will keep me awake tonight.”
Mom strode away without responding.
A minute later she returned with the three women in question.
She tugged dry towels from the dwindling stack on the counter and handed them out.
“The youngies are collecting the last of the dessert dishes, glasses, and silverware.
They should be in shortly.”
“We’ve got it from here, boss.”
Hannah, who had a dirt smudge on her sweaty forehead, gave Bonnie a thumbs-up.
“We won the volleyball game.
It was a gut time to make our getaway before the buwe ask for a rematch.”
“No one was keeping score, of course.”
Bonnie plucked the towel from Hannah’s hand, dried her own, and handed it back.
“And you were the picture of gut sports.”
“Absolutely.”
Laughing, Bonnie followed her mother out the door to the back porch.
As promised, she brought a large glass filled with lemonade and crushed ice for her.
Bonnie parked her rollator and sank into the nearest rocker.
She rolled the cold glass across her forehead, once, twice.
The scent of grilled chicken and sausage didn’t appeal nearly as much as it had a few hours earlier.
“It feels so gut to sit.”
“Doesn’t it, though?”
Mom’s rocking chair creaked under her weight.
She leaned back and sent it rocking.
“Although I’m so full of pent-up energy, I could plant a garden, bake ten pies, can a dozen jars of tomatoes, cut several acres of alfalfa, and still make supper.”
“My, my, that tea was strong.”
“It’s not the tea.”
Mom rocked harder.
“It’s been an eventful afternoon.”
“An eventful day.
Matthew and Sophia got married.
It doesn’t get more eventful than a Plain wedding.”
“Well . . .”
Bonnie swiveled in her chair to take a closer gander at her mother.
Mom’s pink cheeks had turned red.
Her smile bloomed.
She might burst into song any moment.
“What’s going on?”
Mom glanced at Bonnie, then out at the wedding wagon.
She used a fingernail to scrape dried gravy from her apron.
“Mamm?”
“A Plain wedding makes for an eventful day, for sure and for certain.”
She rocked harder.
“A man asking a woman to marry him that same day makes it even more eventful.”
The words hung in the air.
Bonnie plucked at them one by one, until she’d gathered them all together so she could understand their meaning.
“Someone else is getting married?”
“Jah. Me.”
With a high-pitched laugh, Mom crossed her arms, then uncrossed them.
“Theo asked me to marry him.
I said jah.
Are you mad at me?”
Shocked, but not surprised.
Did that make any sense? Happy, but sad.
Anxious, yet calm.
“Not mad.
Of course not mad.”
Bonnie gripped the rocker’s arms.
It was her turn to rock harder.
“I’m happy for you.”
That wasn’t a lie.
A person could be happy and sad at the same time.
“But?”
“No but.
Even if it is soon.
You’ve only known each other a few months.
Part of that time he was in Berlin.”
“I know, I know.
We talked about it, but we’ve both been through this before.”
Mom’s hands fluttered.
She crossed her legs at the ankle, then uncrossed them.
“We have experience with these feelings.
We also know how short time can be.”
“You’ve both also lost your spouses.
You’re both lonely.”
“True, but that’s not why he asked and I said jah.”
Frowning, she rocked harder.
“Surely that’s not what you’re suggesting.”
“Nee, nee.
I’m simply wondering how can you be sure of that?”
“I just am.”
How could anyone be that sure of anything?
“I don’t want to get into how I know this is right and gut.
It would be painful for both of us.”
Mom laid her hand on Bonnie’s arm.
“Trust me when I tell you I’ve never been more sure.”
“So Theo and Noah will work the land?”
“Yah, starting right away.”
She stopped rocking.
Her smile had returned.
“Then when we get married, Theo will move in with us.”
The memory of Dad sitting at the kitchen table, singing “Happy Birthday”
to Bonnie on her tenth birthday, filled her mind’s eye.
Mom had baked her favorite German chocolate cake, along with carrot-spice cupcakes for Dad, just because.
“Into Dat’s house.”
“He would be happy for me.
And for you.”
Mom’s voice turned ragged.
“You know he would.
He’d want to know you’re taken care of.”
“I think we’ve been doing a fairly gut job of taking care of ourselves.”
“Gott didn’t mean for people to be alone.
That’s why He created Eve from Adam’s rib.
He knew it wasn’t gut for man to be alone.
He needed a helpmate—”
“Mamm, seriously, you’re quoting Genesis to me?”
Bonnie snorted.
It wasn’t the Scripture itself.
It was as familiar as the Lord’s Prayer.
As the Ten Commandments.
“I understand in my head. It’s my heart that’s taking a minute to adjust. I want you to be happy. I also know how short life is.”
Bonnie flung both her hands toward the sky and continued, “I know, but there’s been so much change.
To think of someone taking Dat’s place—not just in the fields or the house but in your heart.
It’s hard.”
She choked back a sob.
The images of her dad’s sunburned face, his grin, his thick, bushy beard, his muscle-bound arms that hugged hard and long, that picked her up with ease, whirled around in her brain.
“It’s just hard.”
Mom popped from the rocker so fast the back smacked against the house.
She swooped down and hugged Bonnie.
“He’s not replacing your dat.
Your dat will always be your daed,”
she whispered.
“I hope you and Theo can be friends.
I’d be happy if you liked each other.
That would be a blessing.”
“I promise to try.”
Mom hugged her so tightly that Bonnie struggled to draw a breath.
She disengaged.
“If you promise to lay off the caffeine and sugar.”
“I will, I will.”
Mom beamed.
“But it’s not the tea and the cake.
It’s this feeling.
I never thought I’d feel this happy again.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“You could be even happier.
You could feel like this.”
“Here we go again.”
“I heard Elijah asking where you were.
One of the girls told him you were washing dishes.
He couldn’t very well stroll into the kitchen to talk to you.”
Mom clapped her hands as if applauding.
“But I reckon he’ll find you before the day is over.
Promise me you’ll consider what he has to say.
Give him a chance.”
“It’s different.
The situation is different.”
“Only if you let it be.”
“Look at me, Mamm.
Really look.”
“All I see is a stubborn, willful woman who underestimates herself and the man who will love her.”
“Then you’ve switched your reading glasses for rose-colored lenses.”
“Ha.
I’m older, wiser, and more experienced.
Take my advice.
Give him a chance.”
The screen door opened.
Cindy Hershberger stuck her head out.
“Josie was right.
She said you were out here.
Jocelyn, we could use another set of hands cutting pies and plating the slices, if you don’t mind.”
“Glad to help.
I’m on my way.”
Cindy disappeared inside.
Mom headed toward the door.
She paused, one hand on the frame.
“Don’t miss out, Dochder.
If you do, you’ll only have yourself to blame. Gott has placed an opportunity in front of you. But it’s your choice whether you act on it. Tell me you’ll at least think about it.”
“I will.
I promise.”
“Come get a piece of pie.”
“Maybe later.”
She went inside.
Bonnie stopped rocking.
She sat perfectly still, trying to quiet the sudden vertigo.
Her world spun out of control.
“Dat, I miss you,”
she whispered.