The Love Letters (30 page)

On the ride back from market, Vernon had Mammi sit up front to make it easier to get in and out of the vehicle. Marlena sat behind her, next to Ellie Bitner and her son, who were also sharing the ride with a few others. Ellie explained that she'd had to call for a ride with another driver this morning, since Vernon's vehicle was full.

As they talked, Ellie offered no reason why she'd canceled the sewing classes, only said she wasn't able to continue. Marlena decided not to bring up her plans to work on Angela's crib quilt with Sarah Mast. Besides, Ellie seemed rather detached, and Marlena assumed she was worn out from the day. Either that, or Ellie was less willing to talk openly with Marlena.
Maybe it
was
Roman who put a damper on things.

During the trip, they passed a young Amish boy on a scooter clear in the middle of the right lane. Vernon slowed up and steered the van around him, into the oncoming lane. Farther up the road, five barefoot Amish youngsters strolled along, two with fishing poles slung over their shoulders. Small Jay pressed his nose against the window, staring out.

“There are quite a few children out playing today, or tending roadside vegetable stands,” Marlena commented.

“Well, it's so warm,” Ellie replied. “And this time of year, the youngest neighbor kids go from one vegetable stand to another. Say, I've noticed the Millers down the hill have a big produce stand out again this summer.”

“Do ya ever see Rosanna?”

“Oh, haven't ya heard? She's gone fancy and owns a restaurant in Maryland—just think of that.
And
word has it she wrote a book about growing up Plain.”

Marlena stared at her in astonishment. “Truly? My friend Rosanna?”

“I got it straight from her mother,” Ellie confirmed, nodding.

Marlena shook her head. “Who would've thought Rosanna could sit still long enough to write a book.”

Ellie
tsk-tsk
ed. “Guess we never really know what's goin' on inside another's head,
jah
?”

Marlena let Ellie's gossip roll right off and thought of Luella. More than anything, right this minute, Marlena longed to lay eyes on her sister's darling little Angela Rose.

U
ntil the ministerial brethren arrived that Lord's Day morning, Small Jay waited with his father and uncles in a line of men in the front yard of the Bitners' farmhouse. Boston stood with them, too, looking nearly the same as the others in his new white shirt and black suspenders, trousers, and vest. The only difference was the graying moustache, which Small Jay had forgotten to tell him to shave. Even Boston's short beard contributed to his Plain appearance—a few weeks' growth, nice and thick. Boston's straw hat sat flat on his head, parallel to the ground, just like Small Jay had suggested.

When the bishop, two preachers, a visiting minister, and the deacon took their places at the head of the long line, the oldest men began to move up the front porch steps and into the large room, made larger by removing the wall partitions, which Dat and his brothers had done yesterday. As they filed in, Small Jay and then Boston removed their straw hats like the other men, placing them on a wooden bench. Today Small Jay had permission to sit with Boston in the back, with the
other unbaptized men, and facing the women and girls and little children. The preachers would take turns standing in the narrow gap between the two sides of the congregation.

Small Jay spotted Luke Mast's cousin Paul, a couple of years older. Seeing Paul made Small Jay wonder how Shredder was getting along.
Well, King.
He guessed no return of the black cat was a good sign. Small Jay craned his neck to spot his father, rows ahead.
He thinks Shredder up and ran off. And
all the better!

Across the way, Small Jay could see Mamma and his sisters sitting together in the same row amongst the womenfolk. Then, goodness, he spotted Gracie's mother right behind Mamma, and Gracie, too, holding one of the twins.
Right in my view,
he thought, smiling as he bowed his head, trying to be reverent. Slowly, he inched to the right on the wooden bench, thinking it might remedy the distraction. Now hopefully he wouldn't be looking in Gracie's direction for three and a half hours.
Though I wouldn't mind, especially after yesterday at market. . . .

As it turned out, halfway through the first of two sermons, Boston fell asleep and nearly lost his balance when his head bobbed forward. He would surely have tumbled off the bench if Small Jay hadn't reached for Boston's elbow. The young man nearest him gave Small Jay a look, and, mighty embarrassed, Small Jay slid down on his backside, trying to make himself smaller.

At last all was well again. Oh, did he ever hope neither Gracie nor the preacher, for that matter, had noticed the disturbance.

But as the sermon progressed, Boston remained sound asleep, leaning now against Small Jay, who shivered in horror as the man began to sniff and then snort like a pig. Small Jay
shrunk lower with each embarrassing sound, his face reddening when he noticed Gracie stretching taller in her seat, eyes wide, moving her head to get a better view of the commotion.

Boston's grunts grew louder, becoming a garbled throaty snore.
En Schnaixe!
Annoyed, the minister paused in his preaching, and Small Jay assumed it was up to him to poke Boston. Well, he did just that, but only lightly the first time, which bought only a momentary reprieve.

The second time the same thing happened, Small Jay jabbed Boston in the ribs. Unfortunately, this created even more of a scene when Boston gasped for air and burst into song—an unrecognizable melody, at that.

“Take him outside,” one of the more devout teen boys whispered, tapping Small Jay on the shoulder.

Small Jay had never felt so self-conscious, and he did as he was told and quietly spoke to Boston about leaving.

Awake now, Boston rose with Small Jay. “What an exceedingly short sermon,” Boston declared loud enough to be heard in the entire men's section. This was met by a wave of muffled snickers from
die Youngie
nearest them.

Freckle-faced Danny Glick caught Small Jay's eye and pulled a face.
I'll never hear the end of this!
Small Jay thought, mortified as he led Boston to the kitchen area and out to sit on the back porch. From there, he could hear the preacher resume his sermon. “Ain't a sin to fall asleep in church,” Small Jay said quietly.

Boston looked at him, bemused.

Small Jay continued. “One of my uncles has a way of makin' his church naps look downright pious. You honestly can't tell he's sleeping, 'cause he props his head up with his hand.”

“Like this?” Boston demonstrated.

Trying not to smile too broadly on the Lord's Day, Small Jay nodded. He wondered if Gracie Yoder would think well of him for helping Boston. Or would she be shocked that Boston had come to Preaching service at all?

Such thoughts beset him while he sat with Boston, who promptly fell back to sleep, his right fist propping up his jaw. Small Jay strained to hear the preacher. Not succeeding, he thought of every rote prayer he'd ever learned from Mamma and then added one of his own.
O Lord God, if it is Thy will, let my father realize that I'm
a hard worker. Open his eyes to see that I
ain't a little boy anymore. Also, may Dat not
be so sorry he's only got one son . . . 'specially
one like me.

Marlena felt like she was on pins and needles during the ride home with Mammi and Angela Rose from the Mennonite meetinghouse, just waiting for Gordon's parents to arrive and pierce through the fiber of her heart. Mamma hadn't written or called yet, and the hours were marching by. Marlena didn't know whether to pack Angela's things or wait till the Munroes came. She felt uneasy not knowing how to plan.

Just east of Mammi's house, she pointed out the many gray buggies parked along the side of Roman Bitner's place. “Looks like our neighbors are hosting church,” Marlena said as they turned off the road toward Mammi's.

“Such a lot of work for Ellie and her family to prepare,” Mammi said, pulling slowly into the drive and turning off the ignition.

“Her daughters are still young, but I'm sure they helped with the cleaning and the food for the shared meal.”

“Can't say I miss the days of hosting such a large crowd . . .
'least not at my age.” Mammi shook her head and glanced over at Marlena as she slipped the car key into her purse. “Did ya know your Dawdi and I hosted Bible studies here at the house? Sometimes we were packed to the rafters.”

Marlena wasn't sure she'd ever heard this. At the time, though, it might not have been something her parents wanted her or her siblings to know.
Might've triggered too many questions about attending Bible studies,
she guessed. Back in those days, Marlena's parents wouldn't have dreamed of going to such gatherings.

Mammi looked over at her. “You must be stewing 'bout Angela Rose, honey-girl. I can sense it.”

“I just wish Mamma would've called by now to give us some idea 'bout when.”

“I 'spected so. But every extra minute is a pleasant one,
jah
?” Mammi glanced at Angela Rose, who sucked on her fingers. “A gift of sorts.”

They headed inside, and Marlena got Angela settled into Ellie's loaned high chair before making ham and Swiss cheese sandwiches for them. She took the strawberry Jell-O from the icebox.

Mammi prayed the blessing, asking the Lord to bring calm to Marlena's heart and fill the house with peace.

“I felt God's presence strongly in church today,” Marlena confessed.

“Oh, honey . . .” Mammi's face beamed.

“I truly believe He's callin' me to take care of Angela Rose, Mammi. I just don't understand what it all means . . . 'specially not right now.”

“Well, we must take one step at a time and keep clingin' to His hand. That's a
gut
reminder for me, too.”

Marlena nodded and smiled at Angela, who was patting her tray with one dimpled hand and waving her teething ring with the other.

“Can I ask ya something, Mammi?”

Her grandmother nodded. “Of course, dear. What is it?”

“Well, we Plain folk live and breathe to serve the same Lord God heavenly Father, don't we?”

“
Jah
, and seek to please Him in all that we do and say,” Mammi said.

“Then what 'bout the difference in things like the length and color of our dresses, or how we get around town? What does the Lord think of all that?”

Mammi glanced toward the window, then back at Marlena. “Seems to me, things like that—whether or not Amish or Mennonite farmers use tractors out in the field or to fill silo, or what sort of
Kapp
a woman wears—well, I don't see how any of that'll matter much in heaven.” She smiled and fanned her face. “Here's what I believe's really important. Do we follow God's ways with all that is in us? Have we opened up our sin-sick souls to the grace and redemption of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?”

Marlena felt the now-familiar tug in her heart. And as she thought on what Mammi had said, she realized it sounded quite a lot like the way her friends Luke and Sarah talked, as well.

How'd I miss this my whole life?

———

After the dishes were washed and Angela was already napping, Marlena's mother phoned. “I just knew it was you,” Marlena told Mamma.

“Why, 'cause my mother's praying 'bout it?” Mamma asked, her voice almost teasing.

“The Lord seems to answer Mammi Janice's prayers, that's for sure.”

Mamma laughed softly, agreeing. “Well, dear, as you might imagine, Gordon's parents are devastated by the news of their son being missing in the midst of that war. Right now they're in shock . . . and tryin' to sort things out. Patricia called to ask on their behalf if you wouldn't mind keepin' Angela Rose for a while longer.”

Marlena's heart skipped a beat. “I'd love to, Mamma. I really would.”

“Oh, honey, that's so
gut
of you. If needed, you and I can set up a nursery for Angela here when you return home at summer's end.”

“I think I'd do almost anything for Angela.”

“I believe you would, dear.” Her mother paused a second. “Which leads me to the next thing. Maggie Zimmerman wanted to talk privately with me yesterday at market.”

Nat's mother?

“Evidently Nat's been talking to his father 'bout your attending the Mennonite church there.”

“
Ach
, no, Mamma.”

“It does seem Nat and his parents are worried you're being heavily influenced toward a higher church.”

One that isn't as humble and traditional as the Old Order Amish,
thought Marlena. “
Jah
, I can understand why they'd be concerned.”

“I'm not sure who's more upset, Nat or his parents.”

“Maybe all three,” Marlena said, her heart pounding in her ears.
If they only knew the whole of it . . .