The Amish Clockmaker (16 page)

“Don't forget, Clayton,”
Mamm
said, interrupting his thoughts, “Maisie and Joan and their families will be joining us tonight.”

He felt a surge of anger well up within his chest. “
Ya
, at
Daed
's request,” he snapped. “I haven't forgotten.”

His mother sighed, as if she already knew the evening was going to play out badly. “Your father wants to have a few things in place for you when—” She stopped for a moment, her voice breaking as she added softly, “When the time comes.”

He glanced her way, feeling guilty for having taken his frustration out on her. Clearing his throat, he pushed back the anger and spoke in a far gentler tone.

“Everything is already in place,” he said softly. “
Daed
doesn't need to worry about any of it. I'll be fine. You and I will be fine.”

She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. “You will hear him out, though, won't you? This is important to him.”

“
Ya
. I will listen to what he has to say.”

His mother nodded, turning away to dab at her tears with the hem of her apron. As she did, Clayton's gaze returned to the retreating form of Miriam Beiler, who was now almost to her own house. When she turned the final
corner at the back and disappeared from view, he realized that his mother had been watching as well.

“I understand a suitor is coming to supper at the Beilers' tonight,” she said, her voice heavy with implication.

Clayton didn't reply. Instead, he turned and began limping toward the clock shop. He knew what
Mamm
was really trying to tell him.

He just didn't want to hear it.

T
WELVE

S
upper was a much noisier and more chaotic affair than usual, and Clayton was relieved when it ended and most of the children were sent outside to play in the last of the day's sun. Only the two youngest remained. All of the leftovers had been put away, a fresh pot of coffee had been made, and now Clayton, his parents, his sisters, and their husbands were all seated in the big front room. The two toddlers were on the rug nearby, quietly entertaining themselves with a basket of toys
Mamm
kept handy for when little ones came to visit.

“I'll get right to it,”
Daed
began. “I want to make sure Clayton and
Mamm
will be able to keep the business going and tend to all the day-to-day details of the house and the land once I'm gone.” He reached for his wife's hand as he said this and gave it a squeeze. Her eyes immediately glistened. “I want to know I have everything in order before another day goes by, and that's why I asked you all over tonight.” He looked at his daughters and their husbands with purpose and conviction.

Clayton had just opened his mouth to speak, ready to assure his father that there was no need to worry, when Maisie beat him to it.

“Roger and I have been talking about this,” she said, turning toward her husband.

He gave her a nod and then looked to
Daed
as he took it from there.

“With Reuben coming on fifteen and Fern nearly thirteen, they are good, responsible workers. Maisie and I have decided we can spare them a couple afternoons a week so they can help out in the barn and in the clock shop. On Tuesdays I can come along too.” He looked toward Joan and her husband, adding, “Solomon, you said Thursdays were good for you folks,
ya
? And some of your boys can help with morning chores on Mondays and Fridays?”

“
Ya
,” Solomon and Joan replied in unison.

As Roger continued, clarifying with Solomon the details about who would handle which chores when, Clayton looked over to his father, who was listening intently, seeming pleased and surprised that his children had already talked all of this over and come up with some solutions. Clayton's eyes went to Maisie and then Joan, both of whom were just sitting there, beaming proudly, as their husbands controlled the discussion. When they were finally done, Joan added that although she was planning to be here on Thursdays, there were a few coming up that might be problematic.

“
Ya
,” Solomon said, looking at
Daed
. “But not to worry. I'll be filling in for her here on those days.”

Again Clayton opened his mouth to interject, but his father filled the gap. “Well, it's a great relief that you four have already thought things out so thoroughly—”

But before he finished his sentence, Maisie cut in again. “We've talked to the others too,” she said, referring to her other sisters and their families.

Roger nodded. “Katrina and Pauline promised to come when they can, but they couldn't commit to specific days or times. And Dorothy and Libby both said either they or one of their older children could get here once a week or so to lend a hand—at least until the tobacco starts coming in and everyone's needed at home.”

“Best of all,” Maisie added, “everybody is willing to start right away, even next week if you'd like.” With a smile, she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, as if there was nothing further to talk about.

“Oh, my,”
Mamm
said, as the tears that had formed earlier finally slipped down her cheeks.

“I don't know what to say,”
Daed
murmured gratefully, tearing up a little himself.

“You don't have to say anything,” Roger replied. “Don't give it another thought. We'll see to it that Clayton and
Mamm
are in good hands. I promise.”

Maisie, Joan, and Solomon nodded in agreement with him.

Clayton hadn't felt this invisible in a long time. No one had even looked his way or so much as intimated he might have something to say about their grandiose plan to swoop in and take over his life. Hot anger rose up inside him, and he knew he had to tamp it down before letting loose his own opinion. As he silently counted seconds to gain control, the others rose from the sofa to embrace
Daed
and
Mamm
and assure them all would be well, no matter what happened.

“Wouldn't anyone like to hear what I have planned?” Clayton said finally, but no one seemed to notice. “I'm speaking here,” he said, louder this time, bridled anger making it sound as if he were pushing his voice past sand.

“What was that, son?”
Mamm
asked, her grateful tears shining on her face.

When he replied, it was in a shout. “I'm trying to tell you people about
my
plans!”

Every head in the room now turned toward him. His sisters unwrapped their arms from around their parents and stared at him, wide-eyed.

Daed
seemed to be the first to realize what was going on. “Of course, son. Of course we want to hear your ideas.”

He sounded sincere, but Clayton couldn't keep the anger from his voice as he spat, “I don't have ‘ideas,'
Daed
. I have a plan. And because the clock shop is going to be
my
business and
Mamm
's care
my
responsibility, I would appreciate being heard.”

Roger and Maisie and Joan and Solomon all retook their seats. Clayton's outburst nearly echoed from the walls as an awkward silence filled the room.

“We didn't mean to sound as though you wouldn't have a say in any of this, Clayton,” Roger offered a moment later, his voice calm but assertive.

“Didn't you? Because it sure seemed like it to me.”

“Clayton, your sisters and their families have gone to some trouble to come up with a way to help you and
Mamm
,” his father said gently. “It sounds like a good plan to me.”

“But I don't need their help. I didn't ask for it and I don't want it.”

“Why don't you tell us what your thinking is, then,” Roger said, leaning forward, elbows on knees, acting as if his mind wasn't already made up.

Clayton cleared his throat, reminding himself to choose his words carefully. “I would be happy to have your boys come by a couple times a week to help with afternoon chores if they wish, and my nieces are welcome to pitch in as well. But I don't need anyone to do morning chores before the shop opens. I can handle all of that myself. And as to—”

“But there's a lot to be done in the mornings, Clayton,” Roger said, his voice even and low. “You needn't wear yourself out before your day at the shop even begins.”

“
Ya
—” Solomon started to chime in, but Clayton interrupted him.

“I get up at five every day. The shop doesn't open until nine. We have two horses, two pigs, one cow, and a dozen chickens. Do you really think it takes me four hours to do the morning chores?”

“Clayton,”
Daed
said his son's name with a measure of caution in his voice.

Clayton turned to his father. “
Daed
, you and I together did the chores in an hour. Recently, I've been doing them alone in well under two.”

“
Ya
, but—”

“But what? I could open the shop at ten o'clock instead of nine and we'd lose no business. That would leave me with
five
hours every morning to take care of this homestead and
Mamm
. That's more than enough time, even for a helpless cripple like me.”

“Clayton!” his mother exclaimed.

Her scolding tone was so clear that the two children playing on the floor looked up, as if to make sure it wasn't them who had done something wrong.

Maisie leaned over the coffee table and gave her brother's good knee a gentle pat. “Clayton, we're not saying you're not capable of doing it all, we're just saying you shouldn't have to.”

“Why shouldn't I have to? You all take care of your homes and businesses on your own. I'm not married and I don't have children. This home and this shop and
Mamm
are my only responsibilities.”

Maisie narrowed her eyes. “
Daed
and
Mamm
are our parents too. And you're our brother. Just because we have our own families to care about doesn't mean we've stopped caring about this one.”

“But you're inventing a need where one doesn't exist,” he shot back. “I haven't asked anyone for help.”

“Remember, though,”
Mamm
said to him, her voice wavering. “We're not just talking about now. We're talking about… down the road. In the future.”

Clayton took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reminding himself that this wasn't easy for any of them.

“Look,” he said, more softly now, “I would appreciate help with the vegetable garden this summer, and actually it would be great if someone else could do the chores here on Saturdays because that's my busiest day in the shop. But beyond that, there's nothing else I need. If you people insist on helping, then
fine, come help
Mamm
clean the house or cook or can. But I have everything else under control. I really do.”

Tension hovered in the room, silent now except for the two toddlers giggling together as they played on the floor.

“What about the shop itself?” Roger asked finally.

“What about it?”

“You're saying you don't want help in there either? At all?”

“I already have help,” Clayton said, looking to his mother.

She nodded. “That's true. I'm always here to pitch in on Saturdays and whenever things get busy.”

Clayton met Roger's eyes with his own. “What I'm saying is that I'll be the one managing the business, not you and not Solomon. And not any of my sisters.” He looked to
Daed
. “You are leaving the management of the clock shop solely to me, are you not?” he asked. “That's what you've always told me.”

Daed
nodded silently, a mix of emotions on his face.

“And after working with me for all these years, do you honestly think I can't handle it on my own?”

The look on his father's face was a mix of confidence and doubt, hope and dread, as though he wanted to fully believe Clayton could handle everything that would come his way, but he couldn't quite get there.