Love’s Journey Home (37 page)

“Stop it, William. Joseph, settle down.” Leah shifted Jebediah from one hip to the
other. “No need to get so excited. It’s just a birthday.”

An eighty-second birthday. What exactly would excite Leah?
Forgive me, God, for such an unkind thought
. Annie bounced Noah on her own hip and plastered a smile on her face. “Aenti, happy
birthday, happy birthday,” she called as Onkel John helped her aunt climb down from
the buggy. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

“I’m happy to be here. Happy to be anywhere at my age.” Aenti Louise chuckled, then
coughed, a deep, hacking cough. Annie started forward, but Aenti Louise clutched Onkel
John’s arm with clawed fingers. Her wrinkled face gray, she grimaced and straightened
once her feet were on solid ground. “Where is that new baby? Where’s Emma?”

“Here, Aenti!” Emma waved from the front door with her free hand. She cradled Lilah
in the other.

With Onkel John on one side and Luke on the other, Aenti Louise made it up the steps
and into the crowd clustered on the porch to celebrate her arrival. She didn’t get
out anymore, except on special occasions. This qualified, of that Annie was certain.
They were only passing through this world, but the time spent here could be made special
and spent well with loved ones. She focused on the smile on Aenti’s face as she touched
Lilah’s face with a gnarled finger.

“What a fine baby. You do good work, Emma.” Aenti patted Emma’s arm. “Come, come,
let’s go inside. What are we standing out here for? I hear there’s cake. Chocolate
cake. Can we start with the cake? Is there vanilla ice cream?”

“We made the ice cream!” Rebecca squeezed past Josiah and Miriam and tugged on Aenti
Louise’s arm. “Me and Eli and Mary and Lillie, we all made it together. We took turns
with the crank.”

“I thought my arm would fall off,” Eli added. “The twins complained, but I didn’t.
I didn’t mind at all.”

“As it should be. A big boy like you. Besides, making ice cream should be a family
affair. Now let’s eat.”

Everyone laughed and waited for Aenti Louise to pass through the door before jostling
for position to follow. She looked back. “Annie, come give your old aunt a hand, why
don’t you?”

Surprised, Annie took her arm at the elbow and guided her through the door. Her aunt’s
arm felt like thin bone through her sleeve. When had she become so skinny?

“You do fine work too.” Aenti’s whisper, gravelly with age, sounded like a mix between
honey and vinegar. “Noah is a strong, healthy boy who will grow into a man every bit
as hard working, strong, and faithful as your David.”

Annie could only nod.

Inside, Aenti refused to stay in the living room, tottering instead to the kitchen.
“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing, Louise.” Leah intervened. “You’re the guest of honor tonight. It’s your
birthday. Sit. Sit!”

“I’m not a dog.” Aenti Louise shook her finger at Luke’s wife. “And I’m not on my
deathbed yet. I can serve the rolls or toss the greens. Make myself useful.”

“The lasagna still has about twenty minutes,” Annie said as she handed Noah to Lillie.
“The rolls are done. If you want to toss the greens, that’s fine, just please sit
to do it.”

“Presents!” little Esther cried. “Presents!”

“The presents are for Aenti Louise.” Leah frowned at her daughter. “Greed is unbecoming.”

Aenti Louise took Esther’s plump hand in her own clawed fingers. “Why don’t I tell
you a story, little one, to pass the time until we eat? That will be my contribution
to the meal.”

The nearly dozen children in the room chorused a collective
jah
. Annie smiled. She’d loved storytime with Aenti Louise too. To be taken on the wings
of her words to another place and time had been a treat that had made holidays even
more special. In those days, Mudder had been there to bustle about in the kitchen
and to tell Aenti Louise her job was to keep the children out from underfoot. Time
ran on. Nothing could stop it. Trying to escape her thoughts, Annie rushed into the
kitchen to check on the lasagna.

“She’s right, you know.”

Annie paused from peeking under the tin foil to check the lasagna at the sound of
Miriam’s voice. Her friend moved from the doorway to stand near the prep table. Her
apron barely covered her enormous belly.

“What do you mean? Right about what?”

“You’re doing fine. Noah is growing and he’s healthy. It won’t be long before you’ll
find yourself ready to share your life with someone else.”

“Would you?” To her horror, Annie heard bitterness in her voice. Miriam had no fault
in her present situation. She only wanted to help. As did everyone. She tried to soften
her tone. “Would you be ready to move on to someone new if something happened to Josiah?”

Miriam’s face crumpled. Tears wet her cheeks and her nose turned red. “I can’t imagine
if it were my Josiah. I surely can’t.” Her voice quivered. “I know we’re taught to
be happy for those who go on ahead. They go with Gott. But I can’t imagine my life
without Josiah. I’m sorry, Annie.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” Annie rushed across the room to her friend. “I shouldn’t
have said that. You’re only trying to help.”

“It’s this bobbeli. He keeps me awake at night.” Miriam laid her head on Annie’s shoulder
for a second. “Between little Hazel Grace’s colic and my heartburn, I’m worn out.
But I’m not complaining. I know I’m blessed. Every day I remind myself of how blessed
I am.”

“I try to do the same.”

“Try harder.” Her face gaunt, Aenti Louise put her hand on the door frame as if to
hold herself up. Her clothes hung on her spindly body as if they’d been meant for
a much larger person. “It’s time.”

“Time?” How could she say that? Annie thought Aenti, of all people, would understand.
After Onkel Samuel died, she’d never married again. Her children, Annie’s cousins,
had many children, but none lived nearby. She didn’t see her own grandchildren. “It
was never time for you.”

“Not true. I had my chance and I missed it.”

Annie contemplated her aunt’s pensive face. Aenti Louise looked as if she no longer
saw the oak prep table or the propane oven or the wood-burning stove or the enormous
tub where they washed the dishes. She didn’t see the cake on the table. Her gaze went
far beyond the walls of the house. Annie wanted her back from the place that caused
her pain. “I didn’t know. We never knew.”

“I let my grief rule the day for too long.” Aenti sank into a chair at the table.
She grasped its edge as if for support. “I never told anyone, because I was ashamed
to admit I turned him away. Besides, it was between him and me. He moved on. He married
again. His life is complete.”

“Who? Him who?” Annie dropped in the chair across from her. “Tell us.”

Aenti coughed, a raspy, ugly sound. Annie scurried to the counter to pour her a glass
of water. Aenti drank greedily, coughed again, then sighed. “Can’t shake this cold.”
She sniffed and wiped at her nose with a hankie. “Even now, to tell you would be wrong.
It was between him and me. No one else.”

“But you regret it.”

“That’s the only reason I bring it up now. I could’ve been married all these years
instead of alone. When your onkel went, I was too old for more children, but not too
old to want companionship, to want to have my own home and family around me. But I
couldn’t bring myself to let go of the past and have faith in the future God had planned
for me.”

They were silent for several seconds.

“It smells like the lasagna is done. From the aroma, it’ll be mighty fine eating.”
Aenti rose and shuffled toward the door. In the doorway she stopped and turned back.
“It’s not enough to know God has a plan for you. Have faith in His plan. You can’t
just sit around waiting for it to happen. Step out in faith. For Noah’s sake.” She
smiled. “Now, I’d best tell those children their story.”

She disappeared into the dining room.

Annie looked at Miriam. Her friend shrugged and smiled. “Has your aunt ever been wrong?”

“Never.”

“Then take her advice.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“So what do you think of Isaac?”

Annie dropped the bread basket. Fortunately, she hadn’t put the rolls in it. She glanced
at the doorway, sure saying his name would make him reappear again. “What about him?”

“I saw the way he looks at you. Just hearing his name makes you drop things.” Miriam
grinned. “Josiah’s right. He makes your heart quiver, doesn’t he?”

“No one makes my heart quiver.” Annie scooped up the basket. “No one.”

“We’ll see about that. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

Grateful to let the conversation go, Annie turned her back on Miriam and grabbed the
potholders. She wished Helen were here. Helen would understand. Miriam was her best
friend, but she had her first love. She had her husband. She couldn’t understand.

Annie squared her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face, and went to serve the lasagna.

The next two hours passed in a blur of serving food, eating, laughing, and recalling
other birthdays, some of their loved ones long gone, some more recent, all happy moments.
They were stuffed and barely able to move when Mark dropped his napkin on his plate
and let out a contented burp. “Remember when me and Luke and Josiah got David that
new hat for his birthday, and it was too big and he insisted on wearing it anyway,
even though it covered his eyes?” Mark grinned at the memory. “He walked around bumping
into chairs and tables on purpose just to make us laugh. We offered to get him a smaller
one, and he asked if we could get him a wig instead. We laughed so hard. I miss him.”

The chuckles scattered and faded away. Annie knew they all looked at her. She pushed
her half-eaten lasagna around on her plate with her fork. Aenti Louise stilled Annie’s
fingers with her own hand. Annie forced herself to look up. “I miss David too.”

“Me too.” Josiah plucked another roll from the basket and broke it in half. He didn’t
eat it. “We all do.”

“But that doesn’t mean we have to be sad. David would be the first to tell you that.
He lived his time. He went on ahead of us.” Aenti Louise picked up her glass of lemonade
and slurped noisily. She’d hardly touched her food. No one spoke, waiting for her
to continue. “Life goes on. If you learn anything from what’s happened, learn that.
God gives and He takes away. He is the Almighty, the Everlasting, the Great I Am.
That means He knows what’s He’s doing. Praise Him for that. And let David go in peace.
Just as I let my Samuel go in peace. Just as we let your mudder and daed go in peace.”

She set the glass down with a thud. “Now, let’s open those presents and then we’ll
have cake.”

Annie stumbled to her feet and began to clear the plates.

“Leave them.” Emma touched her arm. “We’ll get them later. Let’s enjoy this, for now.”

She was right. Annie helped Mark and Lillie carry in the pile of presents. Aenti Louise
took her time, fingering the wrapping paper, praising each gift, offering hugs of
thanks.

At last she picked up the final gift. Her face lit up when the wrapping dropped away
and she removed the box’s lid. She held the material, then touched it to her wrinkled
cheek. “It’s beautiful. Danki, all of you. Sunshine and Shadow.” She rubbed her hands
across the squares of fabric arranged by color and turned on point to form alternating
rows of light and dark triangles. The colors were bright against her pallid skin.
“What made you choose this pattern?”

As if she didn’t know. This was Aenti Louise, after all.

“You know, Aenti.”

“I do know. I know it’s been hard for you.” She stood and accepted Annie’s hug. “Danki.”

She clung to Annie, not letting go of the hug, her head close. “You’ve been touched
by death,” she whispered in her ear. “You will be touched by birth again. You’ll see.
Sunshine and shadow. We will always have both in our lives.”

“I know, Aenti.” Annie turned her head away from the table and wiped at her face with
the back of her sleeve. “Who wants cake and ice cream?”

“Me, I do, I do.” Aenti’s voice carried over the cries of the children. “Lots of ice
cream.”

Annie rushed to the kitchen to retrieve it. A series of raps on the front door made
her stop midstride, whirl, and head to the living room. Everyone who had said they
were coming to the birthday supper already sat around the tables.

She opened the door. Catherine stood on the porch, a package wrapped in brown and
green paper clutched in her hands. Next to her stood a dark-haired man dressed in
navy pants and a short-sleeved shirt, open at the collar, keys jangling in one hand.

“
Ach
, Catherine, what are you doing here?”

A
nnie stared at Catherine and the stranger standing on the front porch in their Englisch
clothes, their shiny blue car out of place next to the line of buggies. Indecision
rendered Annie immobile. She couldn’t invite Catherine and her Englisch friend into
the Shirack home, even though it had once been her sister’s home too. Luke and Leah
would be furious. “What are you doing here?”