Joyful (14 page)

“Pippa, it's late,” he said, his voice now sounding far more personal and less distant. “And it's dark out.”

She peeked out her tiny office window. “I know that.”

“How are you getting home?”

“The same way I always do. I'm going to walk.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes.”

“That's not safe.”

“It's safe enough. It's how I get home every night, Bud. I'll be fine.”

“You know what? I'm only five minutes away. How about I give you a lift?”

That curious combination of elation and apprehension raced through her yet again. “Oh, I don't know.”

“Come on, Pippa. Take a chance. I'd like to give you a ride home . . . and maybe visit with you for a few minutes. What's wrong with that?”

“You know what? Not a thing. Thank you.”

“Great. I'm on my way.”

“I'll be waiting for you outside in the parking lot.”

“Definitely not. I'll text you when I get there. Until then, you stay inside and put your feet up.”

Taking off her shoes, she propped them on the corner of her desk. “My feet are now up,” she said around a smile.

“Good. I'll see you soon.”

He hung up before he said good-bye. And to her surprise, she kind of liked that. She actually liked not saying good-bye to him just yet.

She actually liked having something new to look forward to.

Getting to her feet, she decided to run a brush through her hair and freshen up her lipstick. Not because she was excited to see Bud or anything.

It just seemed like a good idea.

“He's so awful, Mommi,” Elizabeth declared as she curled up on the couch late that night next to her grandmother. “I mean, really.”

Just as she'd hoped, Mommi set her quilt square down and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What happened? And I'm assuming we are speaking of our friend Randall?”

Though Elizabeth heard the humor in her grandmother's voice, she was in no mood to joke. “Of course I'm talking about Randall.”

“And what did he do now?”

“What
didn't
he do? First, he acted like he was glad I was there. He smiled in that slow, sweet way he used to. And even offered to pour out the dirty water from my mopping.”

“Poured out dirty water, hmm? I suppose that is rather gallant. A perfect courting gesture.”

She paused. “I know it doesn't sound romantic, but it kind of was.”

Her grandmother's lips twitched. “I'll take your word for it.”

“If you could have seen how he looked at me when he offered to help, you would know what I meant.”

“That is
gut
then.
Jah?
”

“Nee!”

“Because?”

“Because just as soon as we joined the rest of the family he got distant. He didn't even want any cake.”

Her grandmother clucked. “That does sound distressing.”

This time Elizabeth couldn't stifle her giggle. “I made a chocolate cake, Mommi. His favorite.”

“And why were you baking his favorite cake?”

“I don't know. No, yes I do. I wanted him to think about me.” Even remembering all the flowery thoughts that had been floating through her brain while she'd been stirring cake batter was embarrassing. “Now, I don't know why I ever loved him.”

“Oh, Lizzy.”

“I'm sorry. I know I'm whining. But it's so hard. And he doesn't have to be rude to me.”

“He was rude?”

“
Jah
. He practically ignored me.”

“Well, it certainly sounds like he was in a bad mood. I wonder if he was sick? Sometimes men can be real bears when they're under the weather.”

“Oh, Mommi. That's you, always thinking the best of everyone.”

“I didn't know there was something wrong with that.”

“There isn't. Not usually. But I can promise you this, Randall Beiler was not sick. He looked perfectly healthy when we first saw each other.”

“Hmm. That sounds like a real puzzle, it does.” With shaky hands, her grandmother picked up her chamomile tea and carefully sipped. After setting it back on the table, she murmured, “You said that Levi walked you part of the way home?”

“
Jah
.”

“Well, what did he say about his brother? He don't seem the type of boy to keep his thoughts to himself.”

“He's not. He said that he thought Randall was acting odd.”

“And did he know of a reason?”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks burn and hoped that the dim light, combined with her grandmother's poor eyesight, would keep it from being too noticeable. “He suspected a reason.”

“Don't keep me in suspense, dear. What does he think it might be?”

“Levi said that he thought that Randall still liked me.”

“Ah.” Her grandmother leaned back with a cryptic expression.

“Ah? Mommi, we both know that can't be right.”

“And why is that? It sounds like a reasonable idea to me.”

“When he used to come courting, he was different. He was kinder, more fun.”

“Well, he does have quite a bit of responsibility now. Ain't so?”

“That's the thing. Why is he taking all of the family's problems on his shoulders? I know he really liked his construction job. When we broke up he had just been made a crew leader.”

“Maybe he felt duty bound,” she said as she slowly brought the cup back to her lips. “People do things that don't make a lot of sense, especially when they're thinking they're for all the right reasons.”

That was a puzzling statement. Elizabeth pondered that, wondering if her grandmother was trying to tell her something without exactly telling it to her. She did that sometimes.

While she attempted to think of a way to ask her to explain herself, Elizabeth watched the journey of that cup filled with hot liquid up to her grandmother's lips.

As it wavered a mere two inches from her mouth, Elizabeth had to clench her hand so that she wouldn't reach out and steady it.

Of course she couldn't offer to hold the cup, but she lived in fear that one day her grandmother's shaky struggle was going to end with a spill of hot liquid all over her lap.

Perhaps the Lord was giving her a lesson in patience?

After she once again set the mug down, Mommi continued, just as if she hadn't taken a two-minute break. “You know, sometimes people take on things without thinking things through. Sometimes they imagine they are all alone, when in fact there are other options.”

There she went again with her cryptic statements! “Mommi, won't you please speak more plainly?”

“I think I'm being mighty clear.”

“Not really. What are you saying?” she asked impatiently. “Are you saying that Randall should have kept his job and asked for more help earlier rather than trying to sacrifice everything he loved to take care of his family?”

“That is not for me to say.”

“But obviously you are hinting at something.”

Her grandmother averted her eyes, seeming to suddenly be extremely interested in a piece of lint that lay on the sleeve of her dress. “Lizzy, what I am trying to say is that I see a great many similarities happening between you and Randall.”

“Oh?”

“You both have chosen duty for others over yourselves.”

“Randall cut back on his job because he has a large farm and siblings who are depending on him. I don't have that.”

“You have me, though.”

Elizabeth blinked. “Mommi, I like being with you. I like living with you. We are a team.”

“We are a nice team. But my memory isn't so bad that I don't remember a time when I did a whole lot more work.” She sighed. “Now I can hardly sip my tea without burning myself.”

“I imagine that is hard.”

“You are missing the point, Lizzy. I know I am now your burden. Whether you are bearing it joyfully or with remorse doesna make a great bit of difference.” Leaning forward, she paused until Elizabeth was looking at her directly in the eye. “I am merely pointing this out so you will not be so hard on Randall. He has broad shoulders but maybe—just maybe—his burdens weigh heavy on him sometimes.”

“I guess you are right.”

Her grandmother burst out laughing. “You don't need to sound so grumpy about it, Lizzy.”

“I'm not grumpy,” she corrected. “Merely embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed because I am right!”

Standing up, Elizabeth shook her head in mock dismay. “You're incorrigible, Mommi.”

“I'm old and frail . . . but I'm still the same woman inside, Lizzy. As are you.”

Elizabeth thought about those parting comments as she hugged her grandmother good night and walked down the hall to her bedroom.

Was she still the same woman inside, too? Under all the stress and worry and anger . . . was she still the same Elizabeth Nolt who had been in love with Randall Beiler?

T
hough he, Micah, and Neil had elected to not bother with a large garden this year, Randall still found himself slipping on his soft, worn leather gloves, grabbing the old tiller, and preparing the soil for planting season.

Working on the garden gave him a link to his parents, and as he worked the soil as the sun rose over the fields, he allowed himself to remember them both. As always, it was a bittersweet exercise.

His memories of his mother were starting to grow faint. Oh, he remembered her blond hair always neatly arranged under her
kapp
. And the way she seemed to always know what all of them were doing at the same time.

But other things were starting to fade. He couldn't quite remember what her voice sounded like. Couldn't quite remember what she liked and what irritated her.

His memory of their
daed
was clearer, but more filled with pain and some anger, too, if he was being honest. Their
daed
had grieved so deeply for their mother that he'd become increasingly distant after her death. Sometimes Randall feared that their father had only considered his children to be a constant source of stress and worry. And reminder of the wife he had loved and lost.

They had all tried to give their
daed
time to grieve. Impatiently waited for him to snap out of his self-imposed isolation and begin to do more.

But that didn't really happen.

Months later, when it became apparent that their father wasn't going to be able to overcome his sense of loss, they'd all turned to Junior.

And Junior, at the too-young age of twenty, had borne their needs without a word of complaint. Before long, Randall was ashamed to remember that he'd simply assumed that his older brother would take care of things.

And Junior had. He'd slowly become head of the family, putting his needs last and the rest of theirs first. Doing his best to be both mother and father to little Kaylene. Even letting Levi sneak in his room at night when their little brother had bad dreams.

And now it was Randall's turn to keep things at the Beiler farm running smoothly.

Once Randall was satisfied that the rows were nicely tilled and the soil was prepped enough, he walked to the barn and got the bucket of onion, carrot, and potato seedlings he'd been holding on to.

Then he knelt down, pulled off his glove, and started digging into the soft earth with his fingertips.

“You always did like to play in the dirt,” a voice said over his shoulder.

Randall looked up, grinning at his brother's appearance. Honestly, it was as if he'd just conjured him up. “Junior. Hiya. I didn't know you were coming by today.”

When he made a move to get up, Junior waved him back down. “Don't get up. There's something about watching you plant that always makes me smile.”

Smile? “I'm not going to ask why.”

“Okay.”

He couldn't help himself. “Okay, why?”

“Because you dig like Mamm used to. It didn't matter how many spades Daed bought her, she would disregard them and make perfect holes with her fingers.”

“That must be where I got it from.” He couldn't decide whether he was pleased to discover he had adopted one of their mother's traits—or embarrassed that he'd adopted a woman's habit.

After brushing off his hands on his pant legs, he eyed his brother and said, “Any special reason you came by? You know, other than to watch me garden?”

“Yep. Miriam happened to see Kaylene this morning.”

“Already?”

“She's helping out the new schoolteacher in the mornings,” Junior explained. “Anyway, when she came home, Miriam told me that she was a little concerned about Kay. Said our little sister still seemed kind of blue.”

“I've noticed that, too.” Feeling even more ineffectual than ever, Randall forced himself to meet Junior's gaze. “Um, what did Miriam say Kaylene said?”

“First, Kay filled Miriam in about Elizabeth's chocolate cake and taco casserole. Said they were both great.”

“Elizabeth is a
gut
cook, for sure.”

“Then she told Miriam all about how grumpy you were.”

“Junior, are you here because our nine-year-old sister tattled on me?”

“Of course not. But hearing about yesterday made me think that maybe you are feeling overwhelmed.”

“I'm not doing any more than you did.”

“I disagree. I had Beverly and Claire. They did all of the cooking and laundry. And they helped me look after Levi and the rest of you from time to time.”

“Elizabeth is helping. And I am doing better. And as for Kay, it's true she is struggling a bit, but I seem to remember that the girls had their moments at that age.”

Something appeared in Junior's eyes. Randall was afraid it was amusement. But maybe it was something softer? Something more like compassion? “Randall, I came over to tell you that Miriam and I talked about Kaylene again—about everything. We wanted you to know that we'd be happy to come back to live here.”