An Amish Wedding (31 page)

They climbed down the ladder, and Zeke followed Chester to the front door. He turned the knob and motioned Zeke ahead of him and into the living room so Zeke could see the progress he’d made the past week.

Zeke scanned the room, then raised a brow toward Chester. “Mighty fine.” He ran his hand along a built-in bookcase on the far wall. “And a bit fancy.”

“Priscilla’s idea.” Chester stepped next to Zeke and eyed the floor-to-ceiling bookcase. “She likes to read, and she said she hopes that our
kinner
will too.”

Zeke grinned. “Planning to start a family right away?”

“As soon as possible.” Chester smiled back at his cousin, thoughts of Priscilla and their wedding night swirling in his head. He allowed himself the vision for a couple of seconds, then added, “We want lots of
kinner
. Priscilla will be a fine
mamm
.”

Zeke put his hand on Chester’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

Chester showed Zeke the rest of the house. The kitchen was large and spacious with plenty of room for the table and chairs Priscilla’s parents gave them as a wedding present. As he waited for Zeke to have a good look, he pictured Priscilla cooking their meals and tending to their
kinner
. Their wedding couldn’t come soon enough.

F
OLLOWING SUPPER CLEANUP ON
T
HURSDAY
, P
RISCILLA
brushed past her mother in the kitchen, anxious to meet Chester at the phone shanty. She pulled her black sweater from the rack by the door, and she’d almost made a clean getaway when her mother cleared her throat. After holding her breath for a moment, Priscilla eased around and faced her.

“Priscilla, before you go on your
walk
. . .”

Mamm
folded her arms across her chest and held her chin high in such a way that Priscilla knew she was trying to be firm—but Priscilla saw the slight twinkle in her eyes.

“I’d like for you to stop by the Zooks’ house. I have something for you to take to Rachel.”

Priscilla glanced at the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen. She loved Rachel Zook and enjoyed visiting with her, but Chester would be waiting.

“That boy will wait, Priscilla.”
Mamm
grinned as she left the kitchen, leaving no doubt that she did indeed know about the meetings at the shanty. She returned a moment later with a small lap quilt.

Priscilla had seen
Mamm
working on a pink quilt—of course it was for Rachel. Everything in Rachel’s life was bright pink, even her clothing, shoes, and socks. The walls of Rachel’s room were also painted pink, and everyone in the community contributed to the pink décor.

Bishop Ebersol allowed Rachel to dress in the untraditional color, and he often referred to her as one of God’s special blessings, which she truly was. Rachel was the same age as Priscilla, but in her mind she was only about five years old.

Priscilla took the quilt from her mother and studied it for a moment. She couldn’t believe how many different shades of pink formed the stars and border. “It’s beautiful,
Mamm
. I’m sure Rachel will love it.”

Her mother smiled. “I loved making it for her.”

Priscilla headed out the door, wondering how she could keep her visit brief. She wasn’t sure she’d ever had a short visit with Rachel.

She’d barely cleared the porch steps when she took off in a run. The Zook place wasn’t far down the road, but it was in the opposite direction from the phone shanty. She’d have to hurry.

Five minutes later she arrived on the Zook porch and tried to catch her breath. She folded the quilt over one arm and patted her cheeks for a moment, trying to ease the sting from the cool wind. She knocked on the door.

Mary and John Zook had fourteen children—more than anyone else in their district. Priscilla figured John Zook was happy that nine out of fourteen of those
kinner
were boys. Lots of help in the fields.

Priscilla wanted a large family too, but she thought six or seven
kinner
would be enough. She wasn’t sure how Mary kept up with fourteen, especially since they all still lived at home. Priscilla was pretty sure that Annie had just turned two, and the oldest boy, Ben, was twenty-one.

Priscilla tucked a strand of loose hair beneath her
kapp
as the wooden door opened. Mary Zook smiled through the screen, with Annie on one hip and two slightly older girls standing beside her. A smile lit the woman’s tired face.

“Priscilla, come in.” Mary eyed the quilt draped over Priscilla’s arm as she shifted Annie on her hip. “What’ve you got there?”

“
Mamm
made it for Rachel,” Priscilla said as she stepped into the large living room. She offered the quilt to Mary, hoping to make a quick exit. But Mary shook her head.

“Let me have one of the girls go get her. She’d be so disappointed if she knew you came calling and she didn’t get to see you.” Mary set Annie down as she spoke to one of the older girls—either Frieda or Elizabeth. Priscilla couldn’t remember who was who. They weren’t twins, but they looked a lot alike.

“I don’t want to disrupt your household so soon after the supper hour.” But Priscilla knew it was too late. Rachel would be downstairs soon.
Wait on me, Chester
.

Mary picked up Annie again, then eased her into a playpen filled with toys. “Are you excited about your wedding?”

“
Ya
. Very excited.” Priscilla felt her cheeks warm a bit, the way they did every time someone asked about her upcoming nuptials. She couldn’t wait to be Chester’s
frau
.

“I remember our wedding day like it was yesterday.” Mary’s brown eyes took on a faraway look, then she met eyes with Priscilla and laughed. “But we’ve stayed busy since then.”

Priscilla felt even more heat in her cheeks, unsure if Mary was referring to all the children they’d had or something else. Before she had time to decide for sure, she heard a familiar voice. And even though she knew she’d be late to meet Chester, the sound of Rachel’s sweet voice warmed her heart.

“Pre-Ceelia!” Rachel ran to Priscilla the way she always did and threw her arms around her. Rachel was several inches taller than Priscilla, and overall a large girl. As always, she was dressed in a bright pink dress with matching pink shoes and socks. Her prayer covering was white, but there were two pink flowers sewn on either side. Priscilla couldn’t breathe for a moment as Rachel engulfed her in a big hug.

She’d grown up with Rachel, but she couldn’t recall when her friend became so obsessed with the color pink. It must have been when they were both very young, because for as long as Priscilla could remember, Rachel required pink—on her person, in her room, and basically everywhere she went. Priscilla had comforted Rachel many times when they were places that weren’t pink. About five years ago, when Mary was sick, Priscilla and her mother took Rachel to the doctor for a cold. Rachel pulled a pink crayon from the pocket of her apron and colored on the
Englisch
doctor’s pretty white wall. She carried a pink crayon everywhere she went.

Mary tapped Rachel on the shoulder and spoke to her tenderly. “Careful, Rachel. You don’t want to hurt Priscilla.”

“I love Pre-Ceelia!” Rachel finally released Priscilla from the embrace.

“I love you too, Rachel.” She held the quilt out to her. “
Mei mamm
made this for you.”

Rachel brought both hands to her mouth and gasped, then she slowly took the quilt from Priscilla and brought it to her face. She inhaled as she pressed her face into it and mumbled something Priscilla didn’t understand.

“Move the quilt, Rachel, so we can understand you.” Mary tapped Rachel on the shoulder again, and Rachel brought the quilt away from her face.

“
Danki
to Pre-Ceelia’s
mamm
for my present.” Rachel buried her face in the quilt again.

Priscilla glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “You’re welcome, Rachel. I’ll tell
Mamm
how much you like it.” She smiled at Mary. “I guess I better go.”

Mary nodded, but Rachel pulled the blanket from her face like it was on fire. Her eyes grew round as she spoke. “I have something for you too!” She bounced on her toes. “I have a present for Pre-Ceelia!” She turned to Mary. “It’s in
mei
room,
Mamm
. I go get it!”

Rachel ran to the stairs and bolted up them two at a time. Priscilla bit her bottom lip and looked at the clock again.

“You’ve always been one of Rachel’s favorite people,” Mary said.

Priscilla smiled as guilt pinched at her heart. She shouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave, but Chester . . . he was surely at the phone shanty wondering where she was. “Rachel is one of my favorite people too.”

Rachel returned and handed Priscilla a letter-sized envelope.
To Priscilla
was written across it with pink crayon. “For your marriage day. Not to open until your marriage day!” She raised her shoulders, then dropped them slowly as she smiled. “It’s from God.”

“
Danki
, Rachel. This is very special.” Priscilla pressed the envelope to her chest. “Are you sure you don’t want me to open it now?”

Rachel shook her head so hard that Priscilla worried she would have a headache. When she finally stopped, she pressed her lips together and frowned. “No! God said only to open on your marriage day!”

Priscilla touched Rachel on the arm. “Okay. I promise to open it on my marriage—wedding day.” She looked at the clock again.

Rachel let out a heavy breath and nodded, and Priscilla put the envelope into her pocket. “I’ll see you soon.” She turned to leave, but Mary snapped her fingers.

“
Ach!
I almost forgot. I have two of your
mamm
’s bowls from our last gathering. She sent home the leftovers with me. Let me just run and get them.” Mary eased around the playpen and scooted past Priscilla, Rachel, and the other girls toward the kitchen.

Priscilla forced a smile before her eyes landed on the clock.

Wait for me, Chester .
. .

Chapter Three

P
RISCILLA RAN AS FAST AS SHE COULD, LIFTING HER LEGS
high as she made her way across the hayfield to the phone shanty. And for the third time this week, she had a case of the hiccups. Yards before she reached the meeting place, she could hear the phone ringing, but there was no sign of Chester. She picked up the pace as she wondered if maybe Chester stopped somewhere to try to call the shanty. Lots of folks in their community had cell phones, but neither Priscilla nor Chester did. Mostly it was out of respect for their parents, who were against any type of phone near the house. The families sharing the shanty also chose not to have an answering machine, even though Bishop Ebersol didn’t have a problem with it.

She stepped into the shanty and reached for the phone hanging on the wall just as another hiccup echoed within the small space.
Please be Chester
.

“Hello.”

“I’m looking for Chester Lapp.”

She stifled a sigh. “He’s not here right now. Can I take a message for him?” Priscilla picked up the pencil that was beside a small pad of paper they kept on a shelf underneath the phone.

“Yes, if you don’t mind. This is Joel Cunningham. I’m the building inspector, and we met yesterday.”

Priscilla took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly, afraid to ask . . . but needing to know. “Is everything okay? Did the house pass the inspection?” To her embarrassment, she hiccuped into the phone, then squeezed her eyes closed as she spoke. “I’m so sorry.”

There was a slight chuckle on the other end of the line. “No problem. Eat a spoonful of sugar.”

That was the second time she’d heard that. Before she could respond, the man continued.

“There are a few things I need to go over with Chester. Can you take my number and have him give me a call?”

Priscilla wrote down the phone number, promised to have Chester call him tomorrow, and hiccuped as she hung up. She tucked the number in the pocket of her apron with Rachel’s envelope before she headed for home, sorry she had missed Chester and fighting worry about what problems the building inspector may have found. Instead, she thought about what Naomi had said.