The Love Letters (29 page)

His father's eyebrows rose. “Well, we sure could.”

Oh, Small Jay was just dying to ask when, to get it set in his mind that he hadn't dreamed this. But he didn't press, instead soaking up what his father had given him just now.

Boston's suggestion worked,
thought Small Jay gleefully.
Dat knows I want to go fishing with him, and he didn't
say no!

A slow-moving car was coming this way as Marlena walked up the hill toward Hendricksons' house. The mosquitoes were out thick and biting, so she hurried her pace, wanting to get there and back before too long.

Mrs. Hendrickson came to the door, inviting her inside, smiling and wearing a short-sleeved top tucked into a graceful floral skirt. “How nice to see you again, Marlena. Goodness, last time was your grandpa's funeral, if I'm not mistaken.”

Marlena remembered, and they reminisced for a time about the large crowd that had come to pay respects to a man who'd grown up in this area. Then Marlena told her the reason for her visit. “I have more sad news, I'm sorry to say. My sister Luella passed away suddenly last week, and I thought you . . . and Olive might want to know.”

“Oh, my dear, what a shock! Whatever happened?” Mrs. Hendrickson lowered herself into the nearby chair, sighing.

Marlena mentioned the accident, leaving out the details.

“I know Olive will be terribly upset about this. Is there anything we can do for you, Marlena?”

Marlena thanked her and said she was doing as well as could be expected. “I've been staying with my grandmother to help out this summer.”

“I'll definitely phone Olive right away tonight.” Mrs. Hendrickson paused to fan her face with a hankie. “You may not know this, but Luella and Olive were fast friends for years. Their letters flew back and forth until Olive moved to Philadelphia—she lives there now. I believe they've been in touch since.”

Marlena didn't know if she ought to mention the many postcards and letters now in her possession, but Isabelle Hendrickson seemed to have more on her mind.

“Olive always had such nice things to say about your sister.”

Marlena smiled. “I'm takin' care of Luella's baby for a while.”

“What a blessing for the little one. What's her name?”

“Angela Rose.”

“Oh, do bring her over sometime. I'd love to see her!”

Again, Marlena felt hindered by the lack of a good response, knowing too well that Angela wouldn't be around to do any visiting. “Well, I'd best be getting back to Mammi.”

Mrs. Hendrickson said she understood and was glad for the visit, then rose from the chair and accompanied her to the front door and clear out to the road.

“I'm glad Olive was such a close friend to Luella,” Marlena managed to say.

“Yes, they were nearly like sisters in some ways. So this news will be very difficult.”

Feeling numb now, Marlena waved woodenly and headed back down the hill, toward the familiar farmhouse.

Mammi was already upstairs in her room when Marlena returned, so she knocked lightly on her door. “It'll be an early morning tomorrow,” she said softly.

“
Jah
, how's Isabelle?”

“She was shocked about Luella.”

“Undoubtedly.” Mammi sounded tired.

“I'll leave ya be, Mammi.
Gut Nacht
now.”

Mammi said the same, and Marlena turned toward the room she shared with Angela Rose, who was still sleeping peacefully. Marlena knew how easy it would be to fall into contemplating Mrs. Hendrickson's reaction to Luella's death. Instead, she went to her drawer and quickly removed Nat's letter, ready to finish reading. Thankfully, the remainder was full of typical talk about his family and the farm there.
Nothing else worrisome.

She felt she ought to write back, to let him know that she
was struggling terribly right now, trying to understand the longings of her heart.
Surely the Lord God wants us to seek after Him. . . .

Once she was ready for bed, Marlena found some stationery and began to share her innermost thoughts with her beau as never before. She kept her letter polite, yet she made it clear that she truly enjoyed her grandmother and her church.
And I'm learning many new things from the Bible, things I've never heard before now.

Yet she did not write anything more about Sarah and Luke Mast.
I'm not willing to give them up as friends,
she thought, finding it unbelievable that Nat would even suggest such a thing.

S
mall Jay hoped Boston wouldn't be too lonely while he and Mamma went to market Saturday morning. Their driver was Lois Landis, a Mennonite neighbor, and while Mamma did the talking on the way into town, Small Jay did the watching. He enjoyed seeing all the other neighbors' cows—some Holsteins, others Jerseys—and young, scampering goats, too, out on the grazing land.

A few times he caught himself counting, then remembered he wasn't alone. Mamma looked his way as if she might remind him to keep his thoughts to himself, but she simply smiled a sympathetic smile.

She knows me but good. . . .

The closer they got to market, the more he wished he'd stayed home with Boston to help curry the horses. The work wasn't easy for a man like him.

Small Jay had overheard his father talking to Boston again that morning, asking where his family or close friends might be located, sounding concerned. But Boston had been more
baffled than usual by what Dat was saying, and Small Jay's former notion that Boston's memory was clearer in the mornings didn't seem to be true after all. Still, he hoped the folk medicine Dr. Isaac had given Mamma for Boston might help before too long. Boston had been faithfully drinking the medicinal tea each morning, and taking the tincture at the noon meal.

When they arrived, the driver helped Mamma by carrying in her delicious preserves. Mamma herself brought a large canvas bag of her tatted doilies and other handiwork. Small Jay had always been interested in her embroidery but knew he ought not to say anything, lest Dat shake his head at him.
Women's handiwork.
Truth was, those items brought a good price, and Dat should be happy for the extra money, especially now that he had an extra mouth to feed with Boston.
Even so, Dat'll miss him when he goes back to wherever he came from,
thought Small Jay, hoping maybe then
he
might step into Boston's shoes out in the stable, grooming the horses and whatnot all.

At that moment, Small Jay noticed a dozen or more scooters lined up against a wall and wondered how long before he, too, might be allowed to ride one down to market, or over to Joe's General Store.

When can I prove I'm old enough?

Inside, clusters of customers were already waiting at the homemade popcorn booth, and the half moon pies just two tables away were popular, too. He was glad to arrive early, as Mamma liked to do, because once he'd helped set out the preserves, he could wander about, visiting with other Amish boys, usually younger. Most were youngsters outside the Brownstown Amish church district—some slipped him nickels or dimes, feeling sorry for him, he guessed. Luke Mast had never done that, though. Luke and his mother had always treated Small
Jay very kindly, even respectfully, which made him feel like standing taller, head high. Of course, he'd never want to give in to pride . . . though he
had
been sorely tempted. Fact was, Luke just brought the good out in people.

Wandering about, change jingling in his pocket, Small Jay headed straight for the chocolate chip cookies at Gracie Yoder's aunt's market table. While his own mother's cookies tasted even better than Nellie's, he liked to think he was helping the Yoder family in some small way. And, too, he hoped he might get a glimpse of Gracie there.
She's probably home babysitting her twin sisters today.
He'd heard through the grapevine that Gracie's mother depended on her a lot.

Small Jay's mouth watered at the smell of the oversized chocolate chip cookies even as he eyed the peanut butter ones. But he only had enough for one, because he'd spent most of his birthday money on a new leash and collar for Sassy and two batches of licorice for his father.
Better that Dat has treats, since he works so hard.

Even so, Small Jay wished he could surprise Mamma and buy her a cookie, too, what with all the standing ahead of her today. She had packed a nice lunch for both of them, but Small Jay doubted there were cookies this big in his lunch pail. He thought of breaking the cookie in half, right down the middle. Jah,
that's a wonderful-
gut
idea.
He could just imagine the smile on his mother's heart-shaped face.

After making his purchase, Small Jay stopped halfway back to Mamma's long market table, freezing in place. Just ahead of him, three tables away, stood Gracie Yoder with her mother and a makeshift double stroller, where Gracie's identical baby sisters sat, shaking matching rattles and drooling. Staring, he guessed they were about the same age as Angela Rose. And
oh, did he ever want to walk over there and talk to Gracie, but like always, his knees locked up and he stood there, stock-still, unable to move or speak.

He thought again of Boston's advice. He wracked his brain, but his mind was blank. He supposed he might still be standing in that very spot when he was all hunched over and gray, not budging a single inch for decades to come.

Small Jay never would have admitted it, but he felt tormented. Here was the girl of his dreams, beautiful, petite Gracie Yoder, and all he could do was stare at her.

Then Boston's words came to him, tickling his ears.
“
Venture forth boldly!”

Of course that meant Small Jay must pick up his feet and walk over there, put a smile on his face, and let her know he thought she was simply wonderful. But the notion turned his mouth to cotton. He couldn't even swallow!

“We're
haunted most by the things we never attempt.”
Boston's words flew back now, strong and clear.

Small Jay was so tired of being dragged down by his own disbelief, being too afraid to attempt something big.

It worked just fine with Dat last night,
he remembered suddenly.
So why not now, with Gracie?

He filled his lungs with air and stepped forward, moving now. It was all happening. He could see Gracie quietly listening to their mothers as the two women conversed. Now and then, Gracie would smile down at her baby sisters, touching their chubby cheeks with her fingers.

But in that instant, she looked up, right his way.

Now,
he told himself.
Do something!

Small Jay raised his right hand, his arm ever so heavy. And he waved.

Time seemed to stop as he held his breath. Then, wonder of wonders, Gracie Yoder waved back. And smiled!

His legs trembled. But instead of moving forward to talk to her, he turned and headed for the water fountain one aisle over. The cotton in his mouth needed drenching—and he needed air. “I did it,” he managed to whisper.

Glory be!

Marlena kept thinking about Angela Rose—the baby powdery smell of her, the adorable grin—as Mammi sold jar after jar of strawberry jam at market. Marlena made change and gave bills of sale to patrons, all the while hoping Dorcas Bitner wouldn't be discouraged about losing her weekly babysitting job once Angela was taken away by her paternal grandparents.

After a while, Marlena saw Sarah Mast and her mother walking the aisles—“stretching our legs,” Sarah told her with a smile. It was then Marlena learned that Ellie Bitner was disbanding her sewing classes. “The news came rather suddenly, too,” Sarah informed her.

Marlena was sorry to hear it and wondered if it had anything to do with what she'd heard from Mammi about Roman's being finicky, not wanting his family rubbing shoulders with others who were attending a more progressive church.
“He's never gotten over Ellie's
sister and family leaving the Old Order church,”
her grandmother had observed.

Mammi encouraged Marlena to visit with Sarah for a bit, so the two of them wandered about. “How are ya comin' along with your piecework for the baby's quilt?” Sarah asked.

“I've only had a little time here and there. Really, I've just started.”

“Would ya like some help with it?”

Marlena said she would and felt comfortable enough to share that Angela Rose would most likely be leaving to live with Luella's in-laws. “No doubt I'll be able to focus more on the quilt then, even with all the gardening and canning.”

“Oh, you'll miss the little one. How soon?”

Marlena looked away and pressed her lips together.

“
Ach
, this is hard for ya.” Sarah touched Marlena's arm.

Sarah hadn't continued, or brought up Luella's passing, and Marlena was glad. It was bad enough feeling like this in public, barely able to rein in her emotions. If she'd been back at Mammi's house, she would have much preferred to go and sit in the gazebo or on the second-story balcony and quietly gaze out at the clouds or the horizon. Truly, she never knew when the heaviness of grief might crash down upon her.

She and Sarah ended up strolling outside, leaving behind the flurry of activity. “Luella and I didn't get along very well when we were young,” Marlena eventually admitted. “But I honestly believe the Lord wants me to take care of her baby, perhaps as a way of forgiving my sister.” She inhaled slowly. “Does that make sense?”

Sarah nodded.

“But even though I feel strongly 'bout it, everything seems out of my control now,” Marlena admitted. “I'm afraid Angela will be gone very soon.”

Sarah studied her, eyes squinting. “I understand why you feel that way. But none of this is out of
God's
hands.”

“I'll try to remember.” Marlena appreciated Sarah's kindness and her sympathy. “I don't know how to thank you,” she said, biting her lip.

“What if I drop by next Wednesday mornin'?” Sarah asked. “Would that suit ya?”

“I'll be home and . . .” She paused, not sure she could voice the words.

“Will Angela Rose be gone by then?”

Marlena nodded her answer, tears coming fast.

“All the better, then.” Sarah gave her a smile. “Laying out her quilt might just keep your thoughts occupied. And I'll bring along a delicious dessert, too.”

Marlena agreed. “You're a
gut
friend, Sarah.
Denki.
”