Read The Memory Jar Online

Authors: Tricia Goyer

The Memory Jar (22 page)

BOOK: The Memory Jar
13.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Heat rose to Sarah’s face as she remembered her and Patty’s quilt. They’d created a yellow and blue design, and it had turned out beautiful, much to their surprise. Where was that quilt now?

Sarah forced a sad smile, turning her attention back to the conversation at hand. “A million dollars of relief raised, imagine that,” she said. “Maybe fer the next auction, I’ll donate some cupcakes. It’ll be a
gut
excuse to bake some of my favorites.”


Ach
, believe me, Sarah. You’ll have plenty of excuses to bake. I have a feeling that after people take a single bite of one of yer cupcakes, the line will be out the door.”

“Please, Jathan, are you trying to make me a prideful woman? I do what I do because God gifted me with this ability. If I can bring joy to customers, well, it’s my way of pointing them to God.”

Like a light
, she thought. No matter where she was, she could find a way to brighten someone’s day. Holmes County was filled with good, Amish folks, but surely there had to be at least one person who needed some brightness, who needed a bit of joy. Sarah would pray for God to lead her to them. To use her in such a way.

As Sarah considered that, she glanced at Jathan. There
was a tightness in his jaw she hadn’t seen in Montana. She knew he was carrying both the burden of caring for his family and worry about his father’s health, and they had to be a heavy load.

We’ll start with him, Lord
, she thought.
We’ll start with him
.

CHAPTER
22

S
arah removed her
kapp
and apron and moved around the bedroom. Her aunt, uncle, and cousins were already in bed when she’d arrived, but they’d left her a plate of food on the table and a note telling her which room they’d prepared for her. Sarah didn’t need the note though. There was only one door down the hall that was open and a lantern burned inside the room.

Aunt Lynette had been excited when Sarah asked if she could come. Her aunt had always complained that because her sisters lived in different states, her nieces and nephews were like strangers. She’d been thrilled at the chance to get to know her niece better.

Her aunt and uncle’s house was small and had seen better years, but it was clean. Uncle Ivan worked at an organic farm down the road and Aunt Lynette cared for their seven children.

Even though Sarah’s heart felt light and full, her eyelids were heavy. By pushing down with two hands, she tested the mattress and then moved her boxes from where they sat by the door onto a trunk by the bed. She knew better than to consider unpacking her things into the trunk. Even though
Aunt Lynette’s oldest daughter was only six — with three older brothers — Sarah guessed the trunk was already starting to fill with blankets, linens, and other various things a young woman would need upon marriage. Sara had a similar trunk at home. But much to her mother’s dismay, Sarah had often spent more time exploring the hills with Patty than sitting home with embroidery.

Patty
.

What would Patty think of Sarah being here? Patty no doubt would have cheered on the move, especially with Sarah’s hopes of finding love with Jathan. She probably would have mourned the fact they were so far apart, but then again, if Patty were still alive, at least they could have exchanged letters.

A new thought hit Sarah as she considered her friend. What had happened to Patty’s hope chest? Her lower lip quivered as Sarah considered that perhaps the towels still sat neatly folded in the trunk rather than drying dishes after a family meal.

Then again, the chest had been far from full. Patty had often complained about having to sit on the porch and sew tiny stitches with thread and needle when she was more interested in visiting the beavers in the pond behind her house.

Sarah attempted to open her boxes as quietly as she could, but the packing tape still sounded like a roaring river as it ripped away from the cardboard. She knew what box she wanted to check first. Sarah took out two objects wrapped in paper. She was careful as she unwrapped them, and she released a sigh of relief when she saw that neither of the jars were broken. One jar was hers, the other Patty’s. After she’d received Patty’s jar from
Mem
, Sarah had repacked her boxes, bringing Patty’s jar with her instead of one of her own. Now she set both jars on top of the dresser. Then she opened the other box and found her nightgown and sleeping kerchief.

Preparing to climb into bed, Sarah planned on turning down the lantern, but then she changed her mind. Not yet. She had one more thing she wanted to do.

Sarah went to the living room and found the matches. When she returned, she dug the small candle out of Patty’s jar and set it in the candle stand. She lit it and only then did she dim the lantern’s light. The candle’s flame flickered and danced, and Sarah smiled, knowing that the last time it had been lit, she’d been with Patty and the room had smelled of pine needles. It made Sarah feel closer to her friend. It made her feel as if she were sharing this moment with her.

And it was at this exact moment that Sarah knew Jathan was a man she could marry, and Holmes County, Ohio, was a community she could plant herself in for life. Seeing him again tonight and the way he’d brushed his fingers down her cheek and told her to have sweet dreams told her it was so.

Jathan sat on the sofa in the living room of his parents’ farmhouse and tried to let it sink in that Sarah was really here. If he had a choice, both of them would still be in Montana where he’d have more time to get to know her without the pressures of business and family needs weighing him down. Of course, Jathan didn’t have a choice.

He lowered his face into his hands. Tomorrow was the day both he and Sarah were to start at the bakery, but every time he considered the joy of them working together, a heavier burden weighed him down.

“I can’t ignore this anymore. I have to face it,” Jathan said out loud.

Honor your father and your mother
. The words played
through his thoughts. They were a foundation to all that the Amish believed. He’d never followed
Englisch
ways, yet was that any worse than Jathan purposefully setting into action what he knew his father would despise?

But to honor them … Did that mean he should tell
Mem
he’d go to the factory after all? Tell Sarah he’d changed his mind and he wouldn’t be working with her?

He rose and headed out the back door, knowing what he had to do.

Jathan stood on the walk that led to the back of the
dawdi
house. The light from the lantern in his parents’ room lit the shrubs that bordered the back of the house, and Jathan pictured
Mem
there with
Dat
. Sitting by him, sharing her day. Were
Dat
’s eyes open? Did he look at her? Did he understand her words? That’s what bothered Jathan most. It was bad enough that his father was only a shell of who he used to be, but … was his mind still active while trapped in an unresponsive body?

Before the stroke, his father couldn’t sit still for five minutes. Now was he lying there worrying about the shop? About the orders? Did he wonder if the tourists were in a buying mood this year? Did he long to head out back, take in the woody scents of his shop, and get lost in a piece of maple?

Jathan walked with slow steps, thinking about how often he’d wished his father would talk less and just listen for a while. His father always had his plans figured out without taking time to hear what others thought about those ideas.

Now all he could do was listen.

The roofline loomed overhead, blocking out the moonlight. Jathan paused, then moved into the shadows, taking the back porch steps one at a time.

He stuck his hands deep into his pockets.

He entered as quietly as he could, but didn’t have to worry
about waking
Mem
. She sat at the kitchen table with books spread open before her. She had dark circles under her eyes, but she was also smiling. It was the first time he’d seen her smile since he’d been back. During his growing-up years,
Mem
was the last to go to bed, the first to rise. It was nearly one o’clock. Was it hard for her to go to bed without
Dat
sleeping in the bed beside her? He imagined it would be.

Mem
eyed him, and then she nodded and smiled. “
Ja
, she’s here.”

Jathan removed his hat and put it on the coatrack. Then he ran a hand down his face, trying to hide the smile that had sprouted at
Mem
’s words. “How can you tell?”

“I can read it all over yer face.”

He lowered his head and scuffed his foot against the wooden floor.

Mem
chuckled. “She’s a
gut
baker now, is she? Is that why you wanted her here?”

He sat down at the table, next to
Mem
. “
Ja
, Sarah is a
gut
baker. I know you’ll approve, but I’ve never been able to hide anything from you. Even as a little boy.” He forced a smile, and he hoped
Mem
couldn’t see what else he was thinking about. The truth was, there were some things he’d hidden from her. He’d been surprised she never asked why one day — as a child — he’d changed from sitting in the kitchen with her to staying outside all day with his brothers. Did she think the change had come of his own accord?

“Well, I’m excited to meet her. Will she be in the bakery in the morn?” Mem asked.


Ja
, but not at five o’clock. I told her to sleep in, to rest, and come in at eight.”

“Eight o’clock?”
Mem
gasped the same as if he’d have told her Sarah would be driving a car to work.

“It’s all
gut
.” He covered
Mem
’s hand with his. “I jest thought she’d like a little time to visit with her aunt and cousins, that’s all. She’s a hard worker, I promise. If anything, we’ll have to tell her to slow down.”

“I figured that. I can’t imagine you with any other type of woman, and I find it exciting to see what recipes she brings. I’ve been looking through my books to find some of the favorites I’ve written down over time. If we’re going to work together and build our business, I thought it would be nice to add a few more treats to what we’re already selling.”
Mem
’s brow furrowed. “Jest as long as we don’t change things too much.”


ne
, of course not. There have been enough changes around here.” Wasn’t that just like life, to always be changing? And as sad as the fact was, life never seemed to offer up too much good all at once without having to add in bad too.

“Sunlight and shade,” his
oma
had commented once. Jathan liked that, mostly because shade meant that even though things were dim for a time, the sun was still there, just on the other side of the barrier.

As if seeing his sinking spirits,
Mem
opened the cookbook wider and pointed to a page with sticky rolls. “Did ya see these? Don’t they look
gut
?”

“I suppose they do.” His eyes darted from the cookbook to the door of his parents’ bedroom — the real reason he’d come — and then he looked back at the page. As much as he’d like to sit here and discuss recipes, it was getting late. He wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he said his piece.

Jathan pushed back from the table and turned in the direction of his parents’ room.

Mem
swallowed hard and closed the cookbook. “Do you want to see
Dat?

Jathan nodded. “I’d like to talk to him, if that’s okay — even if I know he can’t say anything back.”

“I wish he could talk. I don’t mind that he’s not physically strong, but I have so many questions.”
Mem
sighed. “Is he in pain? Does he know what’s going on? One of the nurses thought seeing a physical therapist might help him, but the doctor —”
Mem
gazed up at Jathan, and he could see the emotion building. Her face grew red and blotchy, her lips pinched closed, and without warning, a shuddering sob emerged. “The doctor said it’s no use. We’d jest be wasting our money. He said to think of
Dat
as already gone.”

Jathan scooted closer and wrapped one arm around his mother. “Don’t listen to that.” He thought of Sarah and her friend Patty. He thought of their conversation in the woods. “You know what the Bible says. God knows all of our days before one of them came to be.
Dat
’s jest as much alive today as he was weeks ago when he was out in the fields planting. We jest need to appreciate the time we have together until he’s called to his heavenly home.”

Mem
nodded, but Jathan wasn’t sure his words helped. It meant loss either way. Continued loss as
Dat
’s body slipped away or final loss when his spirit was called home.

“I-I don’t know what I’d do without him. We’ve been together over forty years. I know his thoughts as well as my own.” She paused and looked around the room as if fully taking in where she was and why she was here. “I spent time with my mother-in-law here. I came to keep her company after yer
opa
’s passing. Who knew that someday I’d be the old woman out back? Who would have guessed it would come so soon?” She rose and approached him, offering a hug. Her shoulders quivered but no words came out.

“I usually know what he’s thinking too,” Jathan finally said.
“And I have a feeling if he could talk, we’d get quite an earful about our plan concerning the bakery.”

“You better go in and discuss this with him.” She looked up at him with a knowing look. “Even if he can’t answer, you’ll feel better, son. And maybe tomorrow you can start — we can start — with peace in yer heart.”

Jathan entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Dat
lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed. He was thinner than the last time Jathan had seen him and somehow, lying on the bed, he seemed smaller too. Jathan looked at the chair next to the bed and thought about sitting but decided against it. This wouldn’t take long.

He cleared his throat and then looked down.

“It seems to me that if this were a game of baseball like we used to play on the Fourth of July, I’d be standing before you now with one strike behind me already, but with a good swing too.”

BOOK: The Memory Jar
13.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Raucous by Ben Paul Dunn
Shadows in the Night by Jane Finnis
Spy Sinker by Len Deighton
Deadly Hunt (Deadly #1) by K.L. Humphreys
London Falling by Paul Cornell