Secret, The (9 page)

Stirring the macaroni, Adah wondered what it would take to get things back on an even keel. Looking fondly at her granddaughter and husband sitting so comfortably, surrounded by the golden circle of light from the gas lamp overhead, she felt a little lump rise in her throat. Jakob’s hair was peppered with gray, and these days he had to stand gingerly for a few seconds before proceeding to walk, his legs a bit wobbly after getting out of his chair. And their dear Grace, so full of youthful energy, surely ought to be getting married before too long.

She’ll follow in her brother’s footsteps, no doubt.

This minute, the warmth of family spread its wings over her . . . over the three of them. And Adah did not want a single thing to spoil its sweetness.

“You’re comin’ for supper tomorrow, jah?” asked Grace, breaking the stillness.

“Couldn’t keep me away,” Jakob said, looking at Adah.

“I’ll bake your favorite dessert, Gracie,” said Adah. “Carrot cake with butter frosting.”

“Mamma doesn’t like to make much to-do ’bout birthdays, ya know,” Grace said unexpectedly.

“Well, if you could mark the day however you’d choose, what would ya do?” asked Adah.

Grace stared down at the table. “Well, let’s see. You’d all sing the birthday song, for sure.” She raised her head slowly. “I do like hearin’ Mamma’s perty voice rise up above all the others. Oh, ever so much.”

That joyful side of Lettie’s rarely seen anymore,
thought Adah.

“And, without thinkin’ too hard, I’d prob’ly like to spend a good part of the day with Becky.” Grace squinted her eyes, as if expecting a retort. “And with Adam.”

“In other words, with your closest friends,” Adah said.

“Jah.” Grace smiled warmly at them both. “But don’t misunderstand, I’d take yous along, too, if I could.”

“Take us where?” Jakob leaned forward again.

“To the ocean. Someday I want to see it for myself . . . not just in books.” Grace glanced toward the window. “There must be something mighty special ’bout the roar of it, ya know?”

“And the extent of it,” Adah added.

“To think you can see nearly forever . . . well, out to the edge of the world, so to speak.” Grace was lost in a daydream, something Adah had never noticed before.
Thank goodness she’s
not the dreamer her mother always was!

Jakob waved his hand. “Well, maybe that driver could take you to see that there horizon line you’re talking ’bout. What’s his name?”

“Martin Puckett?” said Grace. “A right cheerful fella, I’ll say.”

“Jah, that’s who. Maybe Martin’ll drive you, Becky, and Adam out to the ocean one of these days.”

That brought the biggest smile to Grace’s face, but it didn’t last long, because just then Adah heard the front screen door smack shut. Grace’s face paled, and her gaze found Adah’s and held it awkwardly for a long time.

chapter
eight

G
race’s birthday began like any other day except for one thing: She was awakened by Mandy, who slipped into the room and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Happy day . . . happy year, sister!” Mandy announced, all smiles.

Squinting up at her, Grace stretched and yawned. “Ach, you’re up even before me.”

Mandy sat on the edge of the bed, her long, reddish-blond hair flowing over her round shoulders, clear to her chubby waist. “I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday, Gracie.” She tried to suppress a yawn but did not succeed. Laughing softly, she said, “We have something special planned.”

“Honestly?”

Mandy bobbed her head up and down, eyes shining. Then, pretending to seal her lips, she whispered, “That’s all I’ll say.”

Grace loved her playful sister, who always seemed to have something interesting or mysterious up her sleeve. “Well, the day will go by quickly, I’m sure.” She sat up and looked at the wind-up alarm clock on the small table next to her bed. “I best be getting ready for work.”

Mandy stood up, still clad in her long white cotton nightgown. “And must you work tomorrow, too?”

“
Nee—
no, not that I know of.”

“Well,
gut,
then . . . we’ll have us some sister time, jah?”

Mandy’s sleepy eyes sparkled.

“What were ya thinkin’?”

Mandy walked to the doorway and turned, her face beaming. “How ’bout if we take Willow out to the meadow and ride her bareback? That’d be such fun!”

Their horses were meant for pulling carriages and market wagons, not riding, as Mandy well knew. Some bishops were rather opposed to the latter. “What would Dat say to that?” asked Grace.

Mandy wore a mischievous grin. “Well . . . if you must know, I already said something to Mamma.”

“Jah? And?”

“She doesn’t think it’s anything to worry ’bout, as long as we aren’t out on the road . . . ya know, showin’ off.”

“All right, then . . . if Mamma says not to flaunt, we won’t.”

Mandy fluttered her fingers in a little wave and left the room.

Grace jumped out of bed and closed the door. She picked up her brush and began counting the strokes as she brushed her hair.
What will come of this day?

She knew one thing: She didn’t feel a speck older than yesterday, even though the calendar said otherwise. She pulled on her robe and raised the green shade all the way, then sat near the window to read from the Psalms. When she was finished, she prayed a blessing on the day and for all those she might encounter, gathered up her clean clothes, and headed downstairs for a warm bath before the rest of the family awakened. Her father had spent a lot of time and money putting two modern bathrooms in the house. One on their side and one over where Dawdi and Mammi lived. She sometimes wished for a washroom upstairs, as well . . . just down the hall a few steps from Mandy’s and her bedrooms. But Dat had said they must make do with what they had. As it was, Mammi Adah was mighty happy about having a fancy indoor bathroom. She enjoyed the convenience of a nice big tub and modern facilities, especially during winter months.

Grace reached for the shampoo and lathered up, taking special care with her hair, eager for it to be shiny and clean.

What will Henry do for my birthday?

She hurried along, stopping herself each time she felt the urge to hum, holding back. Truth was, she wondered if Henry’s shyness, even awkwardness, might hinder him from wanting to celebrate.

Today she wished to get a head start on breakfast, even though Mamma might surely have something planned already. Still, Grace wanted to get the day off on the right foot to make certain things were just as they should be.

Several other years, on landmark birthdays such as sixteen—the start of courting age—her mother had surprised them with homemade waffles and specialty soufflés or, Grace’s very favorite, cinnamon rolls and a spritz of chocolate syrup in her coffee.

Such happy memories of gathering round the table for a delicious birthday breakfast. She allowed herself to hum.
A
few more minutes won’t hurt
, she decided.

She thought again of Henry, who was the most handsome of all the fellows she’d known. So much so, she sometimes pinched herself.
Why did he pick me?

She had been told by several young men that she was pretty. “
Mighty pleasing, in fact,”
Yonnie had once said right to her face during one of the three short evenings he had gone walking with Grace last year, before Henry had asked her out riding. Such compliments were foreign to the Plain way . . . leaving room for vanity to grow.

She had to smile as she recalled Yonnie’s peculiar ways. Even then, he’d never bothered to take a horse or courting buggy to Singings or other youth gatherings; they’d walked everywhere. Never had she gotten more exercise in her life. Grace had sometimes thought that if the Lancaster bishops ever got wind of it, they might want to encourage this rather irregular way of courting—perhaps it might keep young folk more attentive to the youth in their own church district.

Plenty of stories floated around about young men who were sweet on several girls, so she supposed Yonnie wasn’t unusual in taking his time to choose. And from what Mammi Adah had once hinted about Mamma’s own courting days, Grace wondered if Yonnie and her own mother had something in common.

Dear Mamma . . .

Grace stepped out of the tub and dressed, then wrapped her hair in a towel. She opened the door, nearly bumping into Adam, who stood right outside. “Ach, you scared me . . . for goodness’ sake!”

He grinned, his sleepy eyes meeting hers.

“Time to rise and shine.” She moved away.

“I’ve risen . . . just not shinin’ yet. ’Twas a rough night in the sheep barn.” He wandered in and shut the door, and she heard the water running for his shave. Then, nearly as quickly, the door opened and he poked his head out. “Someone’s a year older, and it sure ain’t me!” With a sleepy-sounding chuckle, he again closed the door.

Grace felt warmed by her brother’s humor as she rushed through the kitchen and sitting room toward the center hallway, making her way to the stairs. She flew to her room, needing to towel dry her hair before winding it into a bun. Letting it down long past her waist, she was glad it wasn’t as thick and hard to untangle as Becky’s or even Mandy’s, who had the prettiest color she’d ever seen—like sun-kissed strawberries and harvested wheat all mixed together. Her sister certainly stood out in a crowd. Years ago, when Mandy was only fourteen, Mamma had complained about the number of times Mandy had sneaked away to Singings, hoping to pass herself off as older.
“All in harmless jest,”
Mandy had assured them when she’d been caught. Still, both Mamma and Dat had given her a good talking-to.

Even though Mandy presently had several nice fellows interested in her, Grace wasn’t entirely sure whether her sister cared for any of them, or vice versa. She only knew what she’d observed at Singings, where the boys sought Mandy out. Her sister’s popularity was no secret, but despite her cheerful birthday greeting, Mandy’s pensive brown eyes revealed an uneasiness. One Grace had observed often lately.

She dealt with an uneasiness of her own. Life just felt so unpredictable.
Between Dat and Mamma, especially.
As much as she wished they’d be more content with each other, she’d seen similar signs of aloofness in Becky’s parents. She’d begun to worry that many married couples were equally distant.

I’d like something far better . . . if I ever marry.

When she heard Mamma cooking downstairs, Grace hurried back down, aware of the tantalizing smell of chocolate as she came to the landing.
Can it be?
She went through the sitting room, to the kitchen.

Seeing her, Mamma quickly attempted to hide the package of unsweetened chocolate.

“
Gut
mornin’,” said Grace, trying not to smile too big.

“You weren’t s’posed to sneak up on me,” Mamma said, a sparkle in her eye. Gone was the sadness of the days before.

“I sure like your chocolate waffles.”

Mamma gave a nod, her eyes still on Grace. “I made some peach delight for you to take with you to work, for your lunch today.”

Grace was relieved that her mother was sounding—and acting—more like her old self.

“That’ll be ever so tasty. Denki, Mamma.”

So, Mandy was right—surprises a-plenty!

It was midmorning when Grace glanced up from the cans she was shelving and spied the top of a man’s head. Rising to her tiptoes, she was startled to see Henry Stahl entering the store, his light brown hair combed ever so neatly.

She looked down at her hands and wondered what to do with the tins of tea. And why on earth was she shaking so?

Quickly placing the cans on the shelf out of order to be free of them, she moved down to the end of the aisle, near a display of the
B
family of vitamins. Her heart sped up as she watched him move through the store.

Of all things, he’s come to see me here!

“Oh, Grace . . . there you are.” He glanced about, his eyes darting nervously. Standing there, she couldn’t help wondering why he’d worn his for-good black trousers and vest for this unexpected visit. All that was missing from his regular Sunday Preaching attire was his thin black bow tie.

“What a nice surprise,” she said softly.

He inhaled and straightened to his full height, squaring his shoulders—a tall man at six feet two. “I’m here to say happy birthday.” He leaned closer and, lowering his voice, said, “Some-thin’s waiting for you . . . in the buggy.” He moved his head slightly toward the door. “All right?”

Oh, this was beyond her expectations!

She glanced toward the counter and saw the manager give her a quick nod. “If it’s just for a minute.”

Henry’s grin made her blush even more.

Outside, he led her around to the other side of the buggy, where they could escape the prying eyes of the other clerks. She was mighty sure if she glanced at the store window, Ruthie and the others would be watching. “I’ve got a present for ya.” He raised the lap blanket and there, beneath it, was an unwrapped box with the words
chime clock
printed on it.

“Goodness, Henry!” She couldn’t believe her eyes. A young man didn’t give his girl a gift like this unless he was on the verge of proposing marriage.