Chapter 20
When Daisy headed to Perry’s on Monday morning, she paused in front of the phone shanty. She hadn’t called Maynard back on
Saturday night, knowing full well she couldn’t chat with him on Sunday. There was some time to talk to him this morning, but
she still hesitated, despite her conversation with Perry the other night. She thought about asking Grace for advice or insight,
but she had spent the afternoon at Kyle’s and didn’t return until after supper. Daisy decided that was a good thing. She couldn’t
bring herself to admit to Grace or anyone else about her continued reluctance to talk to Maynard. Not even Perry, and not
after she’d made such a fuss over how they were 100 percent supposed to be together.
So she clung to her initial assumption—phone calls weren’t for them. Still, she needed to at least let him know that. Later. She would call him after supper tonight and tell him her decision. As close to eight o’clock as possible.
As she walked over to Perry’s, her mood lightened. Except for church, they didn’t see each other yesterday. She wasn’t surprised he’d left early, and that was okay. But she missed talking to him. He was so helpful Saturday night, even if she had changed her mind about reaching out to Maynard. And if, um, when she and Maynard kissed, she would be a little more prepared. She did think a lot about how good Perry’s hug felt, but of
course it would. They were connected now. As friends. Only friends. Strange how she was compelled to internally repeat that.
Perry had mentioned Friday that he had an early job on Monday and was going to make his own lunch, so Daisy had expected him
not to be home when she arrived. She opened the front door, the knob working fine, as it had all week. Perry hadn’t had to
replace it after all. When she walked inside the house, she saw Ferman puttering around the kitchen, sans cane.
“What are you doing?” She dropped her basket on the couch and hurried to him.
“Making you breakfast.” He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a cheeky grin. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Scrambled—wait. Why aren’t you using your cane?”
“Don’t need it in this tiny kitchen.” He cracked two eggs into a bowl, grabbed a fork, and commenced scrambling.
Daisy stood there, observing him as he moved around the confined space, his limp only slight and using the countertop for
balance, his face free of pain. Hmm. “You weren’t moving as well yesterday at church. Or as fast.”
“It’s a Monday miracle.” He poured the eggs into the sizzling hot pan and shooed her out of the kitchen. “Have a seat, young
lady. You’ll have your repast in a jiffy.”
She did a double take, then followed orders. Sure enough, in less than five minutes he set a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs
and buttered bread in front of her before taking the seat across the table. He winced slightly as he lowered his body, but
nothing like he had before. Monday miracle or not, she was happy he was moving so much easier.
After a silent prayer, she tasted the eggs. Nice and peppery, the way she liked them. “ Danki , Ferman,” she said. “These are gut .”
“They’re my specialty.” He folded his hands together on the table, his arthritic knuckles a little gnarled. “I’m going home
tomorrow.”
She almost dropped her fork at his sudden announcement. This is what he’d always wanted and what she and Perry had helped
him achieve. Still, the abrupt way he said it caught her off guard. “That’s... great.”
“I think so.” He grinned again.
“Does Perry know?”
“Told him this morning.”
Daisy wondered if he’d had the same reaction. Probably not. He was generous and hospitable to Ferman, but he also treasured
his privacy. He would be eager to regain it.
“You won’t need to come over here anymore,” Ferman said, sipping on his coffee. “Perry’s got a lot of work lined up for us.”
Her heart dipped. She’d expected to be a little disappointed about not being needed. But it hurt more than she thought. “I’m...
happy for you.”
“ Ya ,” he said, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Now you can spend more time with your family and write all the letters
you want to your fella in Dover.”
Frowning, she said, “How do you know about him?”
He tapped his temple. “I put two and two together. You mentioned you had a ‘possibility back home.’” He hooked his fingers
in the air. “And Perry said you were writing a letter to ‘folks back home.’” Another hooking motion. “Didn’t take long to
figure out you had a beau. What’s his name?”
“Maynard,” she mumbled, stabbing her eggs with her fork.
“I’m sure you can’t wait to see him again. Tell me all about him.”
She looked at Ferman and saw he was genuinely interested. “Well, he’s... he’s...”
The door opened and Perry walked inside.
The man I love.
Perry glanced at them as he went into the kitchen and opened the pantry. “I got partway to my first job and realized I forgot
my lunch,” he said.
“You could eat at The Railway Diner again,” Ferman suggested.
Perry poked his head around the pantry door, a half scowl on his face. “No thanks.” He took out a jar of peanut butter and
a saltine sleeve.
He couldn’t function on so little food. Daisy jumped up. “I’ll make something for you,” she said, going to the kitchen.
He shook his head and shut the door, brushing past her. “This is fine. See you guys later.”
She stood there, unable to move as Perry left. Intense sadness filled her. They really don’t need me anymore.
“Daisy?” Ferman turned around in his chair. “What were you saying about Maynard?”
“I...” She shook her head. “I have to check on the laundry.” She went to the mudroom and looked at the basket in front
of the wringer washer. There were barely enough clothes for a full load, but she put them in anyway. Since this was her last
day at Perry’s, she would spend it finishing up any chore that had to be done.
She picked up a single work shirt and held it for a moment, running her fingers over the fabric. She looked away and tossed
it into the washer.
***
Ferman heard the wringer washer start and looked at Daisy’s unfinished plate of eggs. He frowned, glad that he didn’t have
to force his good cheer anymore. He hadn’t cooked breakfast in a long time, even before he moved in with Perry. Weeks, maybe
months before that he had simply eaten easy breakfasts like cold cereal or instant oatmeal using hot water from the kettle.
His hip was tweaking more than he anticipated. Still, not enough to keep him from going home.
He waited to see if Daisy would return, but when he heard the back door open and close, he pushed back from the table. He’d
spent hours praying on Saturday night, not just about Daisy and Perry but about his hip, his relationship with Junior, even
pouring out some pent-up resentment that Lovina was taken home before Ferman thought she should be. He repented of that, of
course. God’s timing was always perfect, although knowing that didn’t make the grief any lighter. It did, however, give him
more peace than he’d felt in a long time.
He also gained direction. He had to go home and face the empty house and memories. He also had to address his hip. While getting
a hip replacement scared him, he would talk to the doctor about other options. And if that was his only one, he’d have to
man up and get it done. He didn’t want to be this dependent anymore, not when he still had years left to live, God willing.
Eventually he would have to talk to Junior too, and try to work things out. One step at a time, though.
As far as his part in Perry and Daisy’s personal business? There was none, other than what he’d done this morning—verify that
whatever her relationship was with Maynard, it paled to her feelings for Perry. The bu forgetting his lunch was fortuitous. Ferman was able to see the yearning looks they gave each other but didn’t seem to perceive. But he was done meddling, questioning, and yes, doing a little manipulating too. It was hard enough seeing Daisy’s disappointment when he said she didn’t need to come over to Perry’s anymore. The depth of it had caught him off guard. He just hoped that after he went home, they wouldn’t do something stupid, like ignore each other.
And if they did? Then maybe that was God’s will. His ways certainly weren’t Ferman’s.
Daisy was a whirlwind the rest of the day, and Ferman got tired just watching her. She not only finished up the laundry in
the basket, she washed Perry’s sheets and blankets, including the quilt he’d been sleeping with on the couch, scrubbed the
floors, baked bread and cookies, and polished all the furniture until it gleamed. Near evening after she finished making a
chicken potpie casserole and it was baking in the oven, she entered the living room as Ferman sat down in his chair after
taking a nap on the patio. He was going to miss doing that.
He was going to miss a lot of things.
“Can you take the potpie out of the oven if Perry doesn’t get home in time?” she asked, wearily picking up her basket.
“You don’t want to stay for supper?”
She didn’t look at him. “ Nee . I can eat with my familye .”
Bother, he was getting a lump in his throat. Why did this feel like goodbye? It wasn’t like he wouldn’t see her again. At
church, and... well, that would be the only place unless he visited her or she visited him, and soon she would be returning
to Dover.
Daisy headed for the door. “Bye, Ferman.”
“See you later, Daisy.”
She closed the door.
Goodbye, sweet maedel .
***
Daisy wiped her eyes as she hustled down the porch steps. She’d teared up while she made the casserole, knowing it was the
last meal she would cook for the men. Ugh, she was frustrated with herself. She shouldn’t be this disappointed or sad or teary.
She should be thrilled that Ferman was healed and Perry’s world would go back to normal.
Just like hers.
She paused in Perry’s yard, gathering her emotions. She could see the Hershbergers’ phone shanty from here, and that made
her think of Maynard again. He had been on her mind all day, and it had been a while since he’d consumed her thoughts so much.
Ferman was right. She would have plenty of time to talk and write him letters. She should be happy about that too.
Sniffing, she straightened up, her body aching from all the work she’d done today. Perry would have a sparkling house when
he came home tonight. And she had to put that and him behind her. Other than spending the rest of her time in Marigold with
Grace and her family, Maynard was her focus.
She started to leave when Perry’s buggy pulled into the driveway. Talk about lousy timing. Her emotions were in shambles and
she’d hoped to avoid him tonight. But she couldn’t run off and not talk to him. That would be seltsam , not to mention rude.
He pulled the buggy to a stop in front of her, and she waited as he hopped out. He jogged to the other side. “Hey,” he said,
stopping in front of her but giving a wide berth. “I suppose Ferman gave you the news.”
“ Ya .” She clutched her basket to her. Over the past two days the weather had been warm, and spring was coming into full bloom.
There was still plenty of sunlight and she could clearly see Perry’s handsome face, unlike the other night when he’d dropped
her off and picked up Ferman. His face was unreadable.
“I’ll drop him off in the morning,” Perry said. “Micah’s going to bring Ferman’s mare to him after work. She’s been having a ball hanging out with his two horses. Oh, and I stopped and talked to Mamm today. She was upset with me for lying to her, but then she understood why. She promised not to interfere anymore. Don’t
worry, she doesn’t blame you. She did ask when you were going back to Dover, though. She’d like to see you again if that’s
possible.”
Daisy nodded, a lump in her throat. “Probably in a few weeks.”
“I’ll let her know.”
She rocked back and forth on her heels as excruciating silence stretched between them.
He pulled down his hat brim, shielding part of his face. “Well—”
“There’s potpie in the oven,” she blurted.
“ Danki , Daisy.”
She hoped he would add “from Dover.” He didn’t. There was nothing left for her to do but go back to Grace’s. With a nod, she
walked away.
A butterfly flitted close to her, then flew off. It wasn’t Lady. It wasn’t even a painted lady. But it did remind her of something.
She turned around to see Perry take the horse’s lead to guide him to the barn. “Perry?”
He stopped and turned.
Rushing to him, she said, “Can I visit the butterfly room one last time?”
It seemed like an entire day passed before he finally spoke. “Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be home after three.”
A spark lit up in her. She didn’t understand why, but it felt so good after such a disappointing day. “ Danki .”
He nodded, then headed with his horse to the barn.
She didn’t watch him walk away this time. Instead, she went straight to her aunt and uncle’s house, not giving the phone shanty a second look.
***
When Perry pulled into the driveway after work the next day, Daisy was on his front porch, and he assumed she was there waiting
for him to let her into his butterfly room. Yesterday evening had been tough. The whole day was, with him thinking about Ferman’s
announcement that he wanted to go home and his baffling internal reaction to it. Instead of being happy for the old man, all
he could think about was not seeing Daisy anymore.
He managed to face reality by the time he returned home. The conversation with his mother had gone better than he’d hoped,
and she really did comprehend her role in his and Daisy’s pact. “I shouldn’t have pushed you,” she’d said, dabbing the corner of her eye with the handkerchief she always kept in her apron pocket. “That’s my fault.” Then she looked at him. “ So there’s nee hope for you and Daisy?”
“None,” he said firmly, and she dropped the subject. But his strong tone hadn’t just been for Mamm’s benefit. After Ferman’s insistence that Daisy had feelings for him, Perry had to shut down all the outside noise.
But he couldn’t refuse Daisy’s last request. That wouldn’t be fair. She had demonstrated an honest interest in his collection,
and butterflies in general. He couldn’t say no to her, not in this case.
“Whoa,” he said to his horse, slowing down the buggy. He’d intended to yell to Daisy that he’d be right there after he went
to the barn, but she was running toward him, cupping something in her hands. When she reached his side, she looked distraught.
“Oh, Perry,” she said, her voice thick. “Tell me she’s going to be okay.”
When she opened her hands and revealed a barely alive butterfly, his chest almost caved in.
“It’s Lady, isn’t it?” She winced, staring at the immobile insect in her palms. “She appeared in front of me, and I thought
she was okay. Then she landed on my shoulder and started to sway. I picked her up... she’s going to be okay, ya ?”
“Let’s geh inside.” His throat ached as he led her to the front door. If this was Lady, and he wasn’t sure it was, he wouldn’t be surprised
if she was taking her last breaths. The butterfly had lived longer than any other he’d known since he started studying them.
But there was no reason to jump to that conclusion. Not yet.
They went inside and he pulled out the chair for Daisy to sit down. “Be right back.” He rushed to his butterfly room and got
his insect emergency first aid kit, which consisted of tweezers, tape, and a few other odds and ends. He sat in the chair
next to Daisy and held out his hand, glancing at the markings. Sure enough, it was female. “I’ll take her.”
Gingerly she put the butterfly in his hand, and instantly he knew it was indeed Lady. He also knew she was dead, although
from how Daisy was staring at her, silently willing her to live on, he could see she still wasn’t aware. He set Lady on a
folded square of paper towel. “Daisy.”
“She’s okay, ya ?” Daisy looked at him, tears in her eyes. “She’s just taking a nap.”
He shook his head. “ Nee . She’s gone.”
Her lower lip trembled as she touched the butterfly’s wing. “I’m so sorry, Lady.”
Perry couldn’t stop himself from taking Daisy’s hand. “She lived a long time,” he said, fighting his own sadness. He never liked to see butterflies or any other living thing die. Sometimes fatalities were necessary, such as controlling pests that killed vegetables and flowers, or keeping cockroaches and vermin out of the house, or putting food on the table. Death was simply part of the circle of life.
Daisy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I know I’m being silly,” she said in a thick whisper, gripping his hand as
she stared at Lady. “I know she’s just a bug.”
“She was special.” Perry swallowed. “I’ve known a lot of bugs in my life, and I knew she was special when I first met her.”
Her fingers slipped out of his grasp, and she finally looked at him. “I don’t know why I was so attached to her. I was always
so happy when she showed up.”
He smiled, unable to keep from wiping a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Me too.” When he started to remove his
hand from her face, she stopped him, pressing his palm against her warm skin and closing her eyes.
Perry couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Her eyes slowly opened, locking on his. She pressed a tiny kiss against the heel of his hand.
A hot shiver went down his spine, and his already weak defenses were destroyed. “Daisy,” he whispered.
“You said...” She swallowed. “You said I would know when it was right.”
Perry stilled. She didn’t have to define what “it” was. They both knew. He leaned forward until they were close, so close—
Knock. Knock.
They jumped apart and Daisy grabbed Lady before she was knocked to the floor.
Perry’s heart slammed in his chest as they stared at each other, then at the door. Another knock sounded. “I’ve got to—”
“Answer it.” She placed her hands primly on her lap.
He shoved his bangs off his forehead—when did his palm get so sweaty?—and opened the door to a short, unfamiliar man with red hair and glasses. “Can I help you?”
“Is Daisy here?”
Frowning, Perry glanced over his shoulder. Daisy was on her feet now, her face stark white.
“M-m-m—” She gulped. “Maynard?”