Blessings (4 page)

“But, Troy—,” Mama started.

Dad hushed her with a look. “The girl is nineteen already, Deborah. She’ll be on her own before long. She might as well explore a little bit before becoming responsible for her own home. And better she explore under the supervision of someone we approve.”

Mama’s lips nearly disappeared, she pinched them so tightly together.

Trina gave her father a brief hug. “Thank you, Dad.”

“We’ll talk more tomorrow. To bed now. We have service in the morning.”

Trina hurried off, but sleep didn’t come quickly. Through the bedroom wall, the mumble of her parents’ voices—Mama’s angry, Dad’s frustrated—kept her from drifting off. Two emotions warred within Trina’s heart—guilt for creating conflict between her parents and hope that they would say yes to her request.

F
OUR

A
fter Sunday morning service, the members of the fellowship mingled in the churchyard beneath the summer sun, visiting. Graham scanned the grounds, seeking Trina. When he spotted her with Andrew and Livvy, he jogged over and joined them.

Trina’s smile of welcome lit her eyes. The tawny specks of gold in her brown irises picked up a hint of lavender from her dress of bold purple—a royal color that suited her somehow. Graham wished he could slip his arm around her waist and draw her near, the way Andrew did with Livvy. But that would certainly start the tongues wagging! Instead, he greeted Andrew and Livvy first then turned to Trina. “Do you have plans for lunch?”

Trina raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Her squint wrinkled her nose. “Mama invited Uncle Henry and Aunt Marie and their twins for lunch.”

Graham stifled a groan. Trina would probably be expected to help serve at her own table. Henry and Marie Braun had twins a little over two years old, so Marie would be taking care of the toddlers and wouldn’t be much help.

“Why do you ask?”

Graham quirked his lips into a grin. “Mom said you could join us, if you were free.”

Trina’s mouth formed a perfect O. “I’d like that! Let me ask Mama.” She scampered off.

Graham visited with Andrew while he waited for Trina to return, but he didn’t hold out much hope for a positive answer. In all his months of courting Trina, she had only been allowed to come to his home without her parents one time, and that was on his twenty-first birthday. When Trina returned, however, she wore a huge smile that sent his heart to thumping.

“Mama says that’s fine. Thank you for the invitation.”

“She said
yes
?”

Trina’s grin turned impish. “She probably wants me out of the way so she and Dad can talk freely.” She turned to look at Andrew. “I talked to Mama and Dad last night, and Dad said they’d discuss it.”

Andrew reached out and squeezed Trina’s shoulder. “Good. I’ll be praying for God’s will.”

“Thank you.”

Graham watched the exchange with interest. “Something important going on?”

Trina peeked at him, her smile secretive. “I hope so.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

“Later.” She slipped her hand through his elbow, creating a mighty caroming in his chest. “We’d better go before your mother thinks we’re not coming.”

Graham escorted Trina across the grassy yard to his vehicle, opened the door for her, then ran around to his side. He sighed with satisfaction. Just having her in his car, sitting primly on the opposite side of the bench seat, felt wonderful. How much better it would be when they were published and she could slide into the middle of the seat.

Lunch seemed to drag on forever. Graham enjoyed every bite of the baked ham, scalloped potatoes, last year’s canned beans, and gooey chocolate cake, but when the meal was over, he and Trina would be able to sit on the front porch and talk. The handmade swing was visible to his family through the large picture window in the living room, so they would be properly chaperoned without having to be around the others. Graham relished his moments alone with Trina. Those scarce snatches of time made him eager for the day when she would be his wife, when they would share their own little house and he would have hours of time every day with her.

When the meal was finished, Trina rose and began clearing dishes.

“Now you stop that,” Graham’s mother scolded. “You’re a guest.”

“Nonsense.” Trina sent a smile across the table that softened the word. “If I were home, I’d be helping with cleanup. I want to help.”

“No, no. You do enough cleaning up at your mother’s café.” To Graham’s relief, his mother shooed Trina away from the table. “I’m accustomed to doing my dishes. You young people go enjoy your time.”

Before Trina could launch another argument, Graham caught her elbow and ushered her through the living room and out the front door. The early June sunshine raised the temperature, but the porch was shaded by thick spirea bushes, and a slight breeze pushed from the west, making it bearable. He pointed to the swing, and they seated themselves on opposite sides of the wood-slatted hanging bench. At least a foot and a half of distance separated them. That would be considered acceptable.

All through lunch, Graham had held his curiosity about Trina and Andrew’s brief conversation in the churchyard, but now that he had her alone, he let the question come out. “So what’s this important topic your parents are covering while you’re over here sitting on my porch swing?”

Trina’s eyes danced, and she pushed her feet against the porch floor, setting the swing in motion. The white ribbons of her cap swayed beneath her chin. A silken strand of deep brown hair slipped along her cheek. Graham wondered what she’d look like with her hair down. He focused on her sweet face as she finally answered his question.

“They’re considering allowing me to work for Dr. Groening.”

Ah, he should have known. The look on her face Friday night had clearly indicated her interest. “I’m surprised your mom is even thinking about it.”

For a moment, Trina’s expression dimmed. But then her smile returned. “I know, but Dad can be persuasive. Of course”—she shrugged, bunching the ribbon on her left shoulder—“he said there would be a lot to work out for it to happen, but. . .”

“But you’re still hopeful,” he completed.

She nodded. “Oh yes. Working with Dr. Groening, learning how to doctor animals, would be so wonderful!”

He smiled, enjoying her animated voice and face.

“Spending the night out at Andrew’s with Regen, I had such a feeling of contentment when the swelling in the horse’s leg went down. I love animals, and I want so much to help them.” She closed her eyes, tipping her head back and drawing in a deep breath. “There’s so much I don’t know, Graham, and I want to learn it. I want to learn
everything
.” She threw her arms wide and giggled, peeking at him.

Graham resisted taking her hand. Her enthusiasm toward life always lifted his spirits. He could imagine coming home to her after a long day at the lumberyard, letting her smile and cheerful chatter lift him from tiredness. His chest tightened with desire to make her his as soon as possible.

Suddenly an impish grin creased her cheeks. “I told them you offered to teach me to drive.”

Graham chuckled to cover his embarrassment. He fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. “Oh? And what did they say?”

Trina sighed. “Dad said it wasn’t your responsibility.”

Graham nodded. “No, probably not. But in a few months. . .it could be.”

She turned a puzzled look in his direction. “What do you mean?”

Graham glanced through the window. His father dozed in his chair, and his mother was nowhere in sight—probably still in the kitchen. His younger brother—usually the one to spy—appeared caught up in the
Mennonite Weekly
. Graham looked at Trina and shifted a few inches closer to her. He lowered his voice, just in case it might carry through the window’s screened opening into the house.

“If we were published, no one would think it wrong for me to teach you to drive.”

Her eyes widened. “Published?” She licked her lips. “But—but it’s summer.”

“The wedding would have to wait until the winter months, when the harvest is over.” He substantiated her unspoken thought. “But we could publish our engagement now.”

She fell silent, only the creaking of the swing’s chains intruding. He waited, nearly holding his breath. He knew they couldn’t be published without her parents’ permission, but he wanted to know what she thought—if she were as agreeable to the idea as he hoped she would be. When the silence lengthened, he released his breath in a noisy rush.

“Would you be opposed to that?” He feared her reply. Maybe he had misread their relationship.

But she shook her head firmly. “No, I’m not opposed. I—I like you a lot.” She looked straight ahead, her cheeks flooding with pink. The color gave her an innocent appearance that sent Graham’s heart thudding in the top of his head. “But. . .”

Graham leaned closer. “Then what?” His whisper stirred the ribbon hanging from the left side of her cap.

Still facing ahead, she whispered in reply. “I’m not sure I’m ready for it. . .now.”

He frowned, sitting upright. “Not ready? But you’re nineteen— that’s old enough. You know how to keep a house. You’ve been baptized, so the bishop would have no reason to decline our request to be published. So what’s wrong, Trina?”

Slowly she shifted her head to meet his gaze. “After I’m married, I won’t work anymore.”

He laughed lightly. “Of course not. You’ll be taking care of a house, raising children.” Warmth filled his face at his statement. He cleared his throat and rushed on. “There won’t be any reason for you to work. I’ll take care of you.”

Trina lowered her gaze, toying with a loose thread in the waistband of her purple dress. “But I
want
to work. . .with Dr. Groening.”

Graham planted his feet, stopping the swing’s gentle motion. He waited for Trina to look up at him again. He deliberately kept a frown from forming. “Trina, you realize that your job will be caring for the home once you’re a wife.”

“But why can’t I work, too?” Her tone turned pleading. “Mama runs a café, and she’s married.”

“Yes, but she waited until you and your brother finished school before she bought the café. If she had tried working when you and Tony were younger, your dad would have said no.”

Trina scowled. “Beth McCauley works at the art studio every day, and her husband doesn’t mind.”

Graham harrumphed. “Beth McCauley is worldly. She isn’t Mennonite. She doesn’t understand our ways.” He stared at her, appalled. “You surely don’t want to be like her!”

Trina turned her gaze sharply away, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

Graham clamped his jaw and brought his racing thoughts under control. The last thing he wanted to do was push Trina away. She was young, easily influenced. He knew Trina had befriended the young woman whose mother had abandoned the Mennonite faith when still a teenager. Beth’s mother—Marie—was now an accepted member of the fellowship, having returned to her faith as an adult, but Beth remained separate.

He gentled his voice and touched her arm. “Trina.”

She looked at him, her expression wary.

“I admire your tender heart, wanting to be friends with everyone. But Beth—she can lead you astray. When the Bible speaks of not being unequally yoked, it mostly means marriage, but we need to be cautious in all of our relationships.”

“This isn’t about Beth.” Tears winked in her dark eyes. “This is about me and what I feel. . .called to do.”

Graham frowned. What calling would a woman have beyond being a wife and mother? Fear fluttered through his chest. “Exactly what do you want to do, Trina?”

At that moment, a pickup pulled up to the curb. Graham slid back to the corner of the swing as Trina’s younger brother, Tony, bounded up the porch steps two at a time. He started for the front door, but when he spotted them in the corner of the porch, he turned toward his sister.

“Trina, Mom and Dad want you to come home now.” Tony shrugged, his face pulled into an apologetic grimace. “Mom says you’ve been here long enough.”

When Trina pushed from the swing, Graham felt certain she looked relieved to be leaving their topic behind. He rose, as well, a feeling of dread settling in his middle.

Trina followed Tony to the edge of the porch; then she turned and looked at Graham. “Please tell your parents thank you for the invitation to lunch. Everything was very good.” Such a prim, impersonal statement.

Graham forced a smile. “Sure. I’ll see you Wednesday for the singing, right? It’s at Walt’s this time.”

Trina nodded, her ribbons bouncing. “Yes. I want to go.”

Graham nearly wilted with relief. He hadn’t scared her away if she was still willing to go to the singing with him. “I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”

She flashed a quick smile then grabbed Tony’s arm, hurrying him off the porch. “Did Mama and Dad say anything about. . .” Her voice drifted away as she slammed herself into the pickup.

Graham watched Tony drive down the street. Even though he knew it was selfish, he hoped her parents wouldn’t allow her to work at Dr. Groening’s. He feared too many changes would take place if they did.