Chapter 14
14
Sometimes Moses would leave and then come back to the office for something he forgot, so Lois waited to examine the envelope from Menno until he’d been gone an hour. The last thing she wanted was for Moses to look over her shoulder and read a letter from the only person, besides Amy, who was keeping her afloat.
But first she read the letter from her brother—which was actually from Deanna, reiterating what she’d written before. Lois slipped the letter back into the envelope. She needed to respond—or the letters would keep coming. On the other hand, there was probably nothing she could write that would satisfy her brother and sister-in-law enough to stop their letters. Except to tell them she was returning to Big Valley, which she would never do.
She sighed and opened the circle letter, skimming through Teresa’s missive and then down to Menno’s entry. He wrote about seeing an American oystercatcher, a large bird with red rings around its eyes and a red-orange beak, on the Delaware shore. Lois longed to see coastal birds. Her parents had gone to the eastern shore of Maryland after they married and had always wanted to return with Lois, but they never did.
She moved on to Menno’s letter. The envelope was postmarked last Saturday. She read her address on the envelope, printed like always. The stamp had swans on it. She slid her finger under the seal of the envelope and took out the letter, and then spread it on the counter.
Menno responded to her story about her male relative in a way that made her feel heard, made her feel like she mattered. He wrote that God gave all humans special interests for a reason.
She kept reading. Menno said her description of where she found hope resonated with him. That made her smile—and made her want to be more conscious about finding hope every day.
He requested that she tell him more about the bevy of swans she’d written about before . She smiled at how much he’d enjoyed her description. She could feel the passion in his words. He’d experienced the beauty of the swans—because she’d shared it with him.
As she read the last paragraph of the letter, Would you be willing to meet in person at some point? the door buzzed.
“Lois. What are you reading?” John asked.
She raised her head. “Oh, hallo.” She slipped Menno’s letter into its envelope. “I received a letter from a relative in Big Valley.” She cringed at the white lie. It was true she’d received a letter from Deanna, but it wasn’t the one she’d been reading.
“Oh.” John glanced at the letters on the counter. “I didn’t have a chance to speak to you on Sunday after church—and then you didn’t show up for the singing. I expected to give you a ride home.”
She’d avoided him during the meal after church. Stalling, she shoved the letters into her apron pocket. Then she tried to make a joke. “Me and my scooter, huh?”
He didn’t smile. “I would have asked at church to give you a ride to the singing if I’d had a chance.”
“Sorry.” She clearly was not following the usual protocol of Amish courting. “I was feeling a little tired Sunday.” She put her hand in her pocket. It brushed against the stamp on the bigger envelope, the one from Menno. He’d chosen a stamp with swans on purpose.
“How about next week?” John asked. “I’ll pick you up at five. Perhaps Mark and Evelyn will want to go with us.”
“I’d like that,” Lois replied, feeling a stab of guilt. Would she?
“I was also wondering if you’d like to come to my house for supper on Saturday. We’re having a family gathering—my siblings and their families.”
Lois’s smile froze. What did his inviting her to a family meal mean? And how could she get out of it—she had nothing planned for Saturday evening. She never did. She squeaked, “Will Mark and Evelyn be there?”
“ Nee ,” John answered. “Evelyn has an event at her parents’ house after she gets off work. Mark is going with her. But my sisters-in-law are all friendly.”
“All right,” Lois answered. “I can scooter over. What time?”
“Six.”
“I may be a little bit late, but I’ll come.”
John grinned. “Denki.”
After he left, Lois let out a groan. Was she leading him on? Surely she could develop romantic feelings for John, right? If she had feelings for Menno, someone she’d never met, couldn’t she still develop feelings for John? Or maybe it didn’t work that way.
Amy was right. She needed to meet Menno in person. Now that he’d suggested it, it could happen.
After work, Lois, conveying Jane, relaxed as she wrote Menno. She felt a measure of peace. A hint of happiness. Jane was a more optimistic and joyful version of herself.
In the last paragraph, she wrote, I’d like to meet you in person too . She hesitated. She wanted to ask him what he did for a living, but she wouldn’t. She’d hate to have to tell him what she did and where she worked. Jah, she wanted to meet him, but it needed to be planned. She couldn’t have him walking into the shop and surprising her. Or worse, walking into the shop and asking Evelyn or Moses for “Jane.”
Meeting Menno somewhere would mean she’d have to hire a driver unless she suggested a place close by. She’d wait and see what Menno suggested and then figure out what to do next.
Saturday was downright hot, and Lois arrived at the Miller farm sweaty and overheated. A flock of kids were playing volleyball on the front lawn—all grandkids, she knew. Not surprisingly, several were taller than she was.
John called to her from the porch and waved. “Lois!”
She walked her scooter toward him. He met her and took the scooter, leaning it up against the side of the steps. “I’ll take you into the kitchen to meet my sisters-in-law.” All of his brothers but Mark had moved out of the district.
The women were working in the kitchen, making hamburger patties, cutting tomatoes, and putting together a fruit salad and a pasta salad. After John made the introductions, Lois asked Wanda, who sat at the table slicing onions, how she could help.
Her youngest daughter-in-law, Abbie, said, before Wanda could answer, “Here, take the baby,” and shoved a newborn into her arms. Lois cradled the little one as his mama hurried after a toddler, who ran through the living room with a knitting project in her hands.
“Oops,” Wanda said. “You’d think I’d learn to put my handiwork away before family suppers.”
Chaos ensued with little kids and big kids coming in and out of the house as Lois swayed the baby to sleep. John came in ten minutes later, gave Lois, who still held the sleeping baby, a smile, and swooped up the platter of hamburger patties. “We’ll have these done in a jiffy,” he said.
Wanda asked Lois how business had been.
“ Gut ,” she answered. “Busy.”
Wanda patted the chair next to her and said, “Lois, come sit. The babe won’t wake up.”
Once Lois settled in the chair, Wanda asked, “How’s your new boss?”
Lois really needed to come up with an automatic answer to questions about Moses. “ Gut ,” she answered but feared she didn’t sound very convincing.
“How’s Anna Lantz doing?” Wanda asked.
Lois felt her face grow warm. She didn’t know. Not once had she asked Moses about his mother. “All right, I think.”
“None of us can figure out how bad she is—if it’s even necessary she’s in that place.”
Alarmed, Lois asked, “What place?”
“The care center.” Before Lois could respond, Wanda added, “But Moses can hardly keep her in his one-room apartment.”
Lois managed to ask, “Have you visited Anna recently?”
Wanda sputtered, “Jah. Well, it’s been a couple of years. She seemed fine last time I saw her.”
Abbie called out, “Wanda, are we using paper plates?”
“Jah.” Wanda turned away from Lois. “They’re in the far cupboard.”
The women started carrying the food out. Abbie grabbed a stack of paper plates and napkins and put them on the table. “You take those,” she said to Lois, “and I’ll take the baby. I need to nurse him.”
Lois stood and handed over the little one. She grabbed the plates and napkins, happy to escape any more questions about Moses from Wanda. There was definitely more to his story than she knew.
The family gathered around and John’s father led them in a silent prayer. After they all dished up, John sat down beside Lois on a blanket, shared with a couple of the older grandkids. More of them gathered around. Clearly John was a favorite. One of the boys came limping to the blanket.
“What happened?” Lois asked.
“I twisted my ankle playing volleyball.”
“Did you put ice on it?”
John butted in. “He’s fine. Right, Johnny? You can tough it out.”
“But should he?” Lois asked.
“I’m fine.” Johnny smiled at his uncle and most likely the inspiration for his name.
“Will you play a game with us after we eat?” one of the older boys asked John.
“After we all clean up.” John glanced at Lois. “Want to play?”
She shrugged. He already knew she didn’t.
The family fell into place once everyone was done eating. The older girls watched the children while the men and boys carried everything in. Then John put all the paper plates in the burn barrel while the women put the food away and washed what few dishes there were.
There was a lot to like about the Miller family. “This is quite a well-run system,” Lois said as she dried a serving bowl. Abbie agreed. “Wanda is all about systems. And making it so the women don’t do all the work.” She smiled at Lois. “Her sons make good husbands.”
“With all these boys and no girls, I bet she’s extra thankful for her daughters-in-law.”
“Jah.” Abbie glanced around the kitchen. “There is a daughter. Mae.”
“Oh?”
“She lives in upstate New York.”
Lois had never heard of Mae. “I had no idea.”
“She left years ago. Before your family arrived.”
“Why did she leave?”
Abbie glanced over her shoulder.
“Her parents wanted her to marry a man who farmed near Ephrata. A family friend they adored. Pressured her to, in fact. She ended up running away with an Englisch boyfriend.”
Lois winced.
“Jah. It took Wanda a long time to get over losing Mae. I think it changed her some.”
“How so?” Lois asked.
“Less controlling.” Abbie began washing the cutlery. “Although she still pressures people at times.”
Lois felt a connection to Mae. She knew what it was like to be pressured to marry someone she didn’t love.
Abbie smiled at Lois. “Wanda really wants Mark and John to marry soon. I think she’s ready to move out of the big house and turn it over to John and whoever is fortunate enough to join the family.”
Sunday’s singing was much like the last one she’d attended. Again, Lois felt old and out of place, although she enjoyed being around Evelyn. The young woman was fun and chatty—everything Lois wasn’t.
The next Friday afternoon, John, Mark, and Evelyn came into the store at 5:59, just before Lois was ready to turn the sign to Closed.
“We’re going out for pizza,” John said. “We have a driver waiting. Want to come with us?”
Lois would rather go up to her apartment, make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and read a book. But it would be good for her to go out. “Sure.” She’d leave the last of the cleaning of the shop until the morning.
John and Lois sat in the back of the van while Mark and Evelyn sat in the middle. The driver dropped them off at a pizzeria in the community of Willow Street. As they climbed out, he said, “I’ll be back in an hour and a half.”
That seemed longer than necessary to Lois, but she didn’t say anything.
“We’ll get ice cream after we eat,” John said.
As they shared a pitcher of root beer and ate pepperoni pizza, John and Mark talked about what it was like to grow up with so many older brothers. “They hauled us around the farm before we could even walk,” Mark said. “Put us on horses. On top of wagons of hay. On the manure pile. Poor Mamm. She said she doesn’t know how she managed not to have a heart attack.”
“Is it just you boys?” Evelyn asked. “No sisters?”
“Jah,” John said.
“Nee,” Mark contradicted. “We had a sister. Mae.”
Evelyn glanced from Mark to John and then back to Mark.
“Jah, that’s right,” John said. “But she left when we were tiny. I don’t remember her.”
“I do,” Mark said. “She was nice. Really nice.”
“What happened to her?” Evelyn asked.
“She left,” Mark answered. “I don’t think anyone knows where she’s at now.”
Lois inhaled sharply. Mark gave her a questioning look. “You don’t remember Mae, do you?”
“Nee. But someone told me she lives in upstate New York.”
“Someone?” John didn’t look happy with her.
Lois’s face grew warm. “I don’t mean to gossip—I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Evelyn quickly asked, “Lois, do you have sisters?”
“Nee. Just one brother.”
“I didn’t know that,” John said.
Lois almost said, He’s not a secret , but caught herself. “He lives in Big Valley. He’s a lot older than I am.”
“Is he Amish?” John asked.
“Jah,” Lois answered.
Evelyn asked, “Why don’t you live up there?”
Lois felt a wave of sadness for herself, for Mae, and for Mark that he’d lost a sister he loved. She also felt relieved not everyone knew her business—even though sometimes it felt as if they did. “I did live in Big Valley for a while—until I was eight and then again after my Mamm died. But I came back to Paradise because it’s home,” she answered.
John put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “Another example of Gott working things out. He always does.”
That was true, but John’s comment stopped Lois. It made the hard times in life sound easy. Sometimes there was quite a bit of pain before “things” worked out. Sometimes people were stuck in the middle of something for years before it did work out. Or perhaps it never worked out in the way you hoped and you simply moved on, knowing Gott still had a plan.
After they finished their pizza, they walked over to the nearby strip mall for ice cream cones. On the way back to Paradise, John asked if she wanted to go to the Miller farm and sit around the fire pit.
“I’d better not,” Lois said. “I have some things to do to get ready for work tomorrow.” She wouldn’t leave it for the morning.
John seemed disappointed but didn’t say anything. The driver dropped Lois off and then turned back up the lane.
She let herself into the shop and headed to the cleaning closet for the vacuum. There had to be something wrong with her when she’d rather clean than spend more time with the Youngie.
The next day when Evelyn came in at eleven, she yawned several times. “Did you have fun last night?” Lois finally asked.
Evelyn started to smile but then it turned into a yawn too. “Jah. A great time.” She laughed. “Maybe too good of a time. Mark didn’t get me home until after midnight.”
At one, Lois scootered to the post office. She had a letter from Menno, but he hadn’t replied to her positive response to meeting. Perhaps her letter hadn’t arrived before he wrote and sent his to her. He wrote more about a recent trip to the Delaware shore. How she wished she could join him there.
When she scootered back, hot and sweaty, Moses’s car was in the parking lot. It was Saturday. The one day Moses usually didn’t come to the shop.
When she stepped through the front door, there was a racket toward the back. “What’s going on?” she asked Evelyn.
“Moses is doing some rearranging.”
Lois hurried around the corner. All the birdhouses were off the birch tree—and it was on its side. “What are you doing?”
“This is a safety hazard.” Moses focused on the tree. “It’s an accident waiting to happen.”
“Customers love the tree.”
“It doesn’t mean it’s safe.”
“It’s not a danger.”
“A child could pull it down.”
Lois stared at the blank wall.
Moses said, “I bought shelves to put in its place.”
She turned her attention to the birch tree, to the branches, to the crocheted birds attached to the twigs. She put her hands over her face.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Moses said. “It’s only a display. Not the end of the world.”
Lois turned away from him. Isabelle stood behind her. “Oh, Lois,” she said. “I’m so sorry. Your father worked so hard on that display.”