The Bridesmaid (10 page)

Heading back indoors, Joanna gathered up her letter to Eben and went to her room, placing it in the middle dresser drawer for now. Her heart beat faster at the thought of his reading it in just a few days.

Smoothing her hair bun, Joanna headed back downstairs and exited by way of the front door so as not to interrupt her father and uncles. She skirted the main house to visit her grandparents in the adjoining Dawdi Haus. Mammi Sadie often baked sweet cherry desserts—a favorite fruit of Joanna's—and thinking of warm cherry cobbler with a dollop of vanilla ice cream on top made her quicken her steps.

There was no need to knock on the back door—she'd been told for years by Mammi to “chust come in,” which she did, pushing on the screen door and stepping inside.

Sure enough, Dawdi and Mammi were seated at their kitchen table having dessert—still like best friends after all these years. “Hullo,” Joanna said softly. “Thought I'd drop by . . . see how you're doin'.”

“Oh, fine . . . fine,” Dawdi said, a bit droopy eyed as he forked up another bite. “Pull up a chair, won't ya?”

“Denki.” She did just that as her grandmother dished up an ample portion of cherry cobbler and placed it on one of several dessert plates nearby on the table, just waiting for company.
The best baker round Hickory Hollow, hands down.

Mammi Sadie looked flushed and reached into her dress sleeve to produce a white hankie, fanning herself with it. “A
gut
strong breeze would help to blow this humidity out of here, jah?”

Joanna agreed as she took another forkful of the dessert, glad she'd come over. “Have yous had evening prayer and Bible reading yet?” she asked.

Dawdi Joseph smacked his lips. “
Gut
thinkin'. Sadie, where's the old
Biewel
?” He winked at Joanna. “Might as well let our young whippersnapper here do the readin'.”

“Well, my German's not so
gut
,” Joanna warned.

“Mine ain't much to boast about, neither.” Dawdi motioned toward the bookcase. “Look for the bookmark,” he added.

Joanna rose and went to the shelf where the Bible for daily use was stored, as well as the old family Biewel with tattered edges. She lightly touched the latter, recalling that it had possibly come over in 1737 from Switzerland with some of their ancestors on the
Charming Nancy
. The Lancaster Mennonite Historical Society would love to have it for their secured archives, if they knew.

Picking up the newer Bible, she found the spot in Psalms and returned to the table. She wished her grandparents used the English Bible so they could more easily understand the verses, like Eben said he did. Some of the young people around here did the same.

“ ‘O Lord God of my salvation, I have cried day and night before thee: Let my prayer come before thee: incline thine ear unto my cry. . . . '”

When she'd finished, she closed the Bible reverently, finding it curious that the reading was so fitting for her tonight. How good of the Lord God to be mindful of her sadness. Silently, Joanna breathed a thankful prayer.

“Nice of ya to read for us,” Mammi Sadie said, scooping more ice cream and plopping another spoonful on Joanna's plate without asking.

She knows I crave homemade ice cream!

Dawdi Joseph peered over his glasses. “Better save some for Reuben, or he'll be disappointed when he gets here.”

Mammi's mouth dropped open. “Joseph, dear, your brother passed away nearly two years ago.”

“What're ya talking 'bout, Sadie Mae?”

Mammi gave Joanna a quick frown, her cloudy blue eyes dim with concern.

“I just talked to Reuben—yesterday, in fact. Why, sure I did.” Dawdi shook his head repeatedly, his face perspiring. “You keep gettin' things mixed up.” He continued mumbling. “You were off somewheres baking pies and whatnot.”

Wisely, Mammi Sadie said no more, her lips tightly pressed. Joanna had seen her handle worse things before, sometimes talking gently to Dawdi when he was disturbed or confused due to memory issues. Things like
“I know it's hard, Joseph,”
or
“I'll stay right here till you feel better.”

Mammi Sadie was as kind as Ella Mae Zook, and Joanna was glad she and Dawdi lived so close in their final years.

Later on, after Dawdi Joseph wandered into the sitting room and Joanna was alone with Mammi, she asked about Dawdi's fixation on the past. “His memory is so sharp 'bout the olden days, ain't?”

“Seems to be the way of aging,” Mammi replied. “For some of us, at least.”

Joanna felt sorry for her grandfather but knew he was in the best of care with Mammi Sadie, whose mind was as clear as a bell. “You let me know when you'd like some time off, jah?” Joanna offered. “I'm happy to sit with him more than a couple times a week.”

“I'm all right, really.”

“Well, ya need to get out, too, don't forget.”

Mammi reached across the table and touched her hand. “I daresay it's you, Joanna, who needs to get out more often, dear.”

She nodded, guessing her grandmother had heard it from Mamma. “S'posin' you're right.”

“Which reminds me, your cousin Malinda asked 'bout you the other day.”

“Oh?” Joanna perked up. “Is she all right?”

“I think so, but she misses her family at times, like some young brides do.”

“I should go see her more often.” Joanna finished up her dessert.

“Jah, I think she'd like that.”

Joanna pushed her chair back and thanked her grandmother for the tasty dessert. Then, making her way toward the back door, she called “Gut Nacht” to Dawdi and decided to go see Cousin Malinda tomorrow. Malinda's parents and younger siblings lived clear over on the other side of the hollow, so no wonder she sometimes seemed lonely.

Might cheer us both up.

W
ell, lookee here!” Malinda said, smiling after supper the next evening as she opened the back door and met Joanna on the porch. Her blond hair was parted perfectly in the middle and neatly pinned into a thick bun at the base of her slender neck. Beads of perspiration glistened on her temples.

“I've been missin' ya.” Joanna kissed her cousin's moist cheek.

“Everything all right?”

“Oh jah . . . just keepin' busy with planting the family vegetable garden and whatnot.” Joanna followed Malinda around to the potting shed in the side yard.
“The heart of my garden,”
Malinda liked to say. In the summer, it was a cool spot to relax or pray amidst stacked pots, drawers filled with seed packets, and book-sized shelves ideal for storing gardening magazines and guides. There were snips, pruners, and trowels in an old clay pot. Birdseed, sprayers, several spare buckets, hoes, rakes, and shovels, as well as kneeling pads, were well organized in many nooks and crannies. And along one windowless wall, Malinda had a pegboard where she stored garden shears, scissors, and a hammer for small repairs. She even had a comfortable old rocker in the corner.

Joanna's cousin lit a small lantern and pulled out two wooden stools, and they settled in for a heart-to-heart talk beside the wheelbarrows and a push mower.

“Are ya goin' to the quilting bee tomorrow?” Joanna asked, noticing the way fair Malinda beamed in the lantern's light.

“Maybe next time. I'm helpin' my neighbor with spring house cleaning.”

“We're hopin' to finish up one real perty friendship quilt,” Joanna added.

Malinda continued to smile.

Looking at her, Joanna sensed she had something on her mind. “You want to tell me something?”

Malinda glanced over her shoulder, toward the barn. “Honestly, you might not be surprised at all.” She paused a second, her eyes twinkling. “So far I've only told Andy.”

Joanna's heart leaped up. “Oh, I think I can guess.”

“Can ya, now?”

Nodding, Joanna said, “Are you expecting a baby?”

Malinda clapped her hands and laughed softly. “Well, aren't you the schmaert one.”

“Oh, such wonderful-
gut
news!” Joanna nearly toppled the stool in her hurry to embrace her cousin. “I'm so happy for ya.”

Malinda's face radiated joy. “Just think . . . our first little one, comin' in early November.”

Tears sprang to Joanna's eyes. Oh, to be married like Malinda and starting a family! She could just picture herself confiding the same sort of lovely news to her cousin, once she was wed to Eben.

Returning to her stool, Joanna ventured a quick look at Malinda's middle, which as of yet showed no signs of the wondrous news. She imagined how it might feel to have her own tiny babe growing so close to her heart.

Malinda continued talking. “I suppose it's much too early to be makin' cradle afghans and other baby things. Even so, I've already started jotting down names.”

“I'd be doin' the same thing if I was in your shoes.” Just that quick, Joanna noticed they were both barefoot, and they laughed heartily.

“Dare I ask how things are progressing with your beau?” Malinda's expression turned quite sober.

The question was certainly warranted, but Joanna was caught off guard. She shrugged, feeling the need to keep mum.

“Ah, now, there must be
something
.” Malinda leaned forward, clearly wanting to coax it out of her. Joanna recognized that look as one she'd seen on Mamma's face, as well. “I'll keep quiet, promise,” Malinda assured her.

“There's nothin' much to tell.”

Malinda frowned, her gaze more scrutinizing. “Aw, cousin.”

“No, really.”

Malinda relented. “All right, then. But I'll keep you in my prayers.”

Joanna forced a smile. She disliked pushing her cousin away, but what could she say?

Darkness began to settle in. “No one knows I'm gone from the house,” she said. “Might I borrow a flashlight to head back?”

“Of course.” Malinda rose and motioned for Joanna to follow her. “But before ya go, I want to show you something I found in the attic during my recent airing of some stored items. This find was quite unexpected, I'll say.”

“What is it?”

“Ach, you'll see.” Malinda's smile was mysterious. “I'm just sure you'll be delighted . . . 'specially once you're engaged to your young man.”

“Ya mean, it's for me?”

“Oh, Mammi Kurtz insists.”

“You've talked to our grandmother 'bout this?”

Malinda nodded as they walked through the yard. “It'll make you ever so happy, believe me.”

Joanna followed behind her cousin, thinking she should ask the question she'd already posed to several family members in a sort of poll. She wanted to include some of the responses in the story she was writing, the longest one to date. She enjoyed observing people—
real
people—storing away the images in her mind. This had been a hobby since childhood, when she watched others wherever she went, be it the one-room Amish schoolhouse, Sunday Preaching, or at the roadside vegetable stand where Englischers stopped by. Only later had Joanna started recasting these remembrances into fiction on the pages of her notebook.

Joanna and Malinda strolled back to the house, and Joanna was aware of the stars appearing one by one. Insects fluttered against the screen door, hungry for the light. She recalled the small bees she'd seen curled up, asleep, the other day inside the creamy-yellow rose petals along the side of the house.
The wonders of spring . . .

Joanna paused on the back porch, leaning on the railing. “Have ya ever considered what's been the happiest time of your life, so far?”

Malinda wrapped her arm around a porch post and closed her eyes for a moment. Then, laughing softly, she opened them. “Frankly, I don't have to think hard 'bout that. It's the day I married Andy.”

Joanna was mighty happy to hear it, particularly considering how very emotional Malinda had been. Goodness, to think she'd misread her cousin so completely! “Several of the womenfolk have said their happiest moment was becoming a mother for the first time,” Joanna told her.

“I guess I'll know that soon enough.”

Joanna hugged her. “It does me
gut
seein' ya so contented.”

Malinda studied her for a moment. “Why did ya ask, Joanna?”

“Oh, just something I'm curious about.” She pressed forward. “I like to know what others think . . . maybe because I like to write stories.”

“Stories?”

“Jah . . . it's a secret I've kept from nearly everyone. Well, 'cept Eben and my friend Amelia.” Pausing now, Joanna hoped she wasn't making a mistake by revealing this to her cousin. Yet Malinda had always been one to keep a confidence.

“I daresay you've been a curious sort since you were born.”

“Guess you're right. But now I'm starting to wonder if I should've kept it to myself and not told Eben at all.”

Malinda bit her lip thoughtfully. “Well, I've never heard of a fiction writer amongst the People.”

“Me neither. Well, least not in Lancaster County so much.”

“Bishop John doesn't want us to think too highly of ourselves, ya know—Scripture has a lot to say on that.”

“Jah, 'tis best to stay humble.”

“S'pose if you wrote stories to help others . . .”

“That's an idea,” Joanna agreed. “But so far they're really only for me.” She was quite relieved Malinda didn't seem to think any less of her for her confession. “Truth be told, I'm concerned my beau might be backin' away from me a bit.”

“Whatever do ya mean?”

Joanna didn't know if she should say more.

“If anything, at least from what I've heard, the Indiana Amish are less strict in some ways than we are.” Malinda smiled endearingly. “Are ya sure he's become aloof?”

Joanna shook her head. “Just a feeling.”

“Maybe you're worrying too much.”

Her cousin had a point. “Maybe so.”

Together, they made their way indoors, through the kitchen, then upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms. Malinda moved to a lovely oak blanket chest just beyond the footboard of a double bed. Carefully, she lifted several blankets and other linens off the top and placed them on a nearby chair. Then, smiling, she raised up the prettiest double wedding ring quilt Joanna had ever seen, all done in reds, purples, and blues. “Just look at this.”

“For goodness' sake!” Joanna peered at the exquisite work of art. “It's breathtaking.” She reached to hold one end, and Malinda held the other as she inched back to exhibit the entire length of the beautiful quilt.

“Mammi Kurtz says it's a family heirloom.”

“And in perfect condition—must not have been used as a covering at night.”

“That's exactly what I thought,” Malinda said. “But it was somehow misplaced for forty years.”

Joanna stared appreciatively at the large interlocking circles. “Such a wonderful-
gut
discovery you've made.”

“Well, I don't plan to keep it,” Malinda said.

“Oh, but you must!”

“Remember what I told ya?” Malinda's eyes were soft. “Mammi insists that it goes to you.”

“
You're
the newlywed in the family,” Joanna protested.

“That's kind of you, but I already have plenty of quilts.”

Joanna studied her cousin. “Are ya sure?”

“There's no arguing with our grandmother.”

“Or you either, ain't so?” Joanna was delighted.

“Besides, there's an interesting story behind this quilt.”

“They say every quilt has one.”

Malinda nodded her head slowly, eyes twinkling. “It's not just any story, mind you.”

Joanna was all ears. “Well, no wonder. Just look at it.”

“I don't mean the colors or the stitchin'.”

“Oh?”

“Mammi Kurtz says it has a spiritual legacy. And,” she said more softly, “there's something of a mystery about it.”

“Did Mammi tell you?”

“She said it was a known secret many years ago, but it was forgotten when the quilt disappeared.”

“Now you've got me wondering.” She searched the quilt for any initials. “Mammi must know who made it, jah?”

“She says it was made in the late 1920s by one of our great-great-aunts.”

“That long ago?”

Malinda laid it out on the bed, and Joanna knelt to trace her finger over the familiar pattern, marveling at the choice of such a bold combination of colors. “It's really not much different from our present-day double wedding ring pattern, jah?”

Malinda agreed and knelt on the other side of the bed. “And just look how straight the stitches are. I'm told it was done by only one quilter, if you can imagine that.”

“What an enormous undertaking,” whispered Joanna.

They fell silent for a time, admiring the family treasure. Joanna let herself imagine the woman, their talented ancestor, who'd lovingly taken the time to make this quilt. To think Malinda had rescued this heirloom from the attic. And, even better yet, Mammi Kurtz wanted Joanna to have it!

Her cousin's and grandmother's sentiments touched Joanna deeply. “Denki,” she managed to say. “Thank you ever so much.” Did this mean they no longer believed she was destined to be a Maidel?

Her cousin offered to keep the quilt until Joanna could retrieve it in the buggy another day, and Joanna thanked her as they walked downstairs and then out to the porch. A loud chorus of crickets and the scent of honeysuckle filled the air. They spotted Andy coming out of the stable.

Malinda gave her a sweet hug and a flashlight. “Don't wait so long to visit again, all right?”

Joanna said she'd stop by tomorrow, after the quilting bee. She waved, then made her way down the porch steps. She felt nearly giddy, not only about Malinda's pregnancy, but the special quilt. Such a wonderful gift! Indeed, the idea of placing it in her very own hope chest did much to renew Joanna's hope.

She looked forward to hearing what Mammi Kurtz knew about the tale behind such a quilt
. Soon, very soon.