The Shunning (16 page)
Mary nodded. “You’re right, and they still don’t use them much here in the Hollow. Not since John Beiler was ordained bishop a few years back. He’s stricter than some, you know.” She reached for Katie’s hand. “But I’m glad we have a firm,
standhaft
bishop, really. And, just think, come Thursday, you’re going to be his bride.”
Katie smiled, gripping Mary’s hand tightly. “And everything’s all ready for the wedding.” She looked around at the freshly painted walls and scrubbed floor. “Dat and the other men did a right fine job of closing off the porch, don’t you think?”
She led Mary to the front door, where they looked out, inspecting the long porch area through the heavy, double-paned glass.
“Oh, Katie, I almost wish I was you,” Mary whispered, her face close enough for her breath to cloud the windowpane.
“Really? Why?” Puzzled, Katie turned to regard her friend. “Did
you
want to marry the bishop?”
Mary’s hands shot up to cover her flaming face. “Ach, no—I meant nothing of the kind!”
“What then? How could you be wishing you were
me
?”
Mary glanced at Dat, who was still napping, and dropped her voice to a hushed tone. “I just meant I wish I was getting married soon.”
“Oh, Mary . . .” Katie reached for her friend and hugged her hard. “You’ll have your day, you’ll see. One of the fine fellas around here— one of them will be shining his flashlight at your window someday real soon now.” She sincerely hoped she was speaking the truth—that it would happen just as she had predicted. “Come on now. There’s apple strudel left from lunch!”
In the kitchen, Katie served hearty slices and filled two cups with her Mam’s good coffee.
“Mm-m, des gut,” Mary said after her first bite. “Is it your mamma’s recipe?”
“Jah.”
“Then I best be getting it.”
“I’ve tasted your pastries, Mary Stoltzfus. You need no help there!”
They finished off their dessert, still chattering on about the wedding plans. “I couldn’t be happier about you being my side sitter,” Katie said, referring to her attendant for the preaching service, held during the first two hours of the wedding.
“Well, who else would you have picked?” Mary’s eyes sparkled.
“Nobody. You’re my one and only choice. I never had sisters to choose from, you know.”
Mary brushed the crumbs toward the center of the table. “I’m glad . . . in a way. If you had, then maybe I wouldn’t be getting to have a place of honor at your wedding. And maybe . . . we’d never have been such close, dear friends.”
There was a moment of silence while they pondered the changes Katie’s marriage would bring. “Oh, Mary, how will it be, me going off and getting married and leaving you behind, all single? Wouldn’t it have been wonderful-gut if we could’ve had a double wedding?”
Then, thinking out loud, she added, “Maybe I should wait a bit longer, put the bishop off . . .’til Chicken Joe asks you to marry him . . . or Preacher’s boy.”
Mary’s mouth dropped wide. “Don’t you go saying such things! God’s ways are best, Katie. Besides, poor Bishop John’s been waitin’ an awful long time for you as it is.”
“A long time?” Katie was surprised to hear it. “How do you know?”
Mary frowned, and it appeared that maybe her friend feared she’d spoken out of turn. But Katie pushed for an answer. “Just what are you saying?”
Mary cocked her head and narrowed her gaze. “I know it’s true.
The bishop’s had his eyes on you for a gut long time. I’ve seen the way he watches you. Ach, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been in love with you since before your baptism.”
Katie groaned. “But Dan and I were in love back then, so how could it be that the bishop—”
“Oh, I’m not saying Bishop John was
jealous
of Dan,” Mary quickly interrupted, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean that at all.”
Thinking back, Katie realized what Mary must be referring to. “Oh,
that
. John was just being extra kind and helpful after Dan drowned, that’s all.”
“Well . . . maybe so. John Beiler’s a kind, God-fearing man, of course.” Mary sighed. “It must be awful gut to have someone like that eager to be marrying you.”
Katie cleared off the table, then came back over to sit across from Mary. “Before, when you were talking about John watching me . . . well, you didn’t mean he had that serious, uh . . . that intense look in his eyes, did you?”
“Katie Lapp! I never meant to be putting such a notion in your head!” came the fiery retort. “John Beiler’s an ordained bishop, for goodness’ sake!”
Katie nodded, thinking, wondering. John Beiler was also a human being. She had seen clear evidence of longing in his eyes, but it wasn’t something she felt she should share—even with her closest friend.
“Please, whatever you do, don’t go telling anyone what I said just now, you hear?” Mary sounded almost desperate.
Katie nodded in agreement, but her mind went swirling off, thinking back to the way John had glossed over her confession. Was it because of his fondness for her? Because he didn’t want to be harsh with his future wife?
“Whatcha thinking now?” Mary asked, straightening her apron as she stood and went to the cookstove to warm her hands.
“Nothing much.” Katie remained seated, watching Mary, wishing things could stay the way they were between them.
“Well, that’s gut, because I don’t want you thinking at all ’til after the wedding. Then, in a couple of days, I’ll come visit you over at the bishop’s house and hear all about the names you’ve picked out for your first baby come spring.” Her broad grin revealed slightly crooked front teeth.
“Why, you . . .” Katie hustled over to her, jostling and poking at Mary’s ribs. If it hadn’t been the Lord’s Day, she would have been tempted to hale her friend outside for a snowball fight. As it was, Katie’s prayer kapp was knocked askew, and Rebecca had to shush them from the front room.
“We’re still just like two kid goats, ain’t?” Katie whispered, trying to squelch another giggle. “And here you are—talking about the little ones you think I’ll be having soon.”
Mary shrugged. “Maybe one of your children will have red hair. Wouldn’t that be right nice?”
“My hair’s not red!”
“Well, what do you call it, then?”
“It’s auburn,” Katie insisted. “But you’re right about one thing. It’s about time for someone else in the Hollow to have colorful hair, don’t you think?”
Mary was thoughtful, unexpectedly so. “You know, I guess I never thought about it, but you’re the only one around here with auburn hair.”
Fearful of continuing on that conversational course, Katie rose and motioned Mary upstairs to the bedroom, where she dropped to her knees, opened her cedar chest, and showed her friend the many handmade linens and doilies she’d collected.
“Does it feel strange moving into a house that’s already set up with furniture and whatnot?” Mary asked as they were refolding the dainty things.
“Oh, I can’t say it feels strange, really. The bishop and I talked about it. We think it’s best this way . . . for the children, that is. . . .” Her voice trailed away, and she sat back on her heels, staring off into space.
“But it bothers you, doesn’t it?”
There she went again. Mary seemed to know instinctively what the real truth was. “Oh, it’s bothered me a little off and on, I suppose, but I’ll get used to it,” Katie replied, closing the lid of the chest and getting to her feet. “I’m sure I will.”
What she didn’t say was that marrying
any
man other than her first love would bother her somewhat, at least for a time. Perhaps a good
long
time.
————
Elam, Katie’s eldest brother, and his petite, but expectant, young wife of one year arrived a few minutes after Mary left the house. Both Elam and Annie hugged Katie and Rebecca as they came in.
“We have our dishes all ready to load up for the wedding feast,” Annie said, smiling as she removed her winter bonnet, revealing dark chestnut brown hair under her white kapp. “Elam will bring them over tomorrow sometime . . . whenever it suits.”
Katie was pleased to be borrowing Annie’s good dishes. Her sister-in-law was probably the sweetest girl Elam could have chosen to marry, even though he had to be the orneriest brother God ever made. Of their union, a new little Lapp was soon to arrive—in mid-January. Eager for her first niece or nephew, Katie wondered if the baby would look anything like Annie’s younger brother—her beloved Dan.
The first time Katie had mentioned the possibility, her sister-in-law had nodded sadly, saying she truly hoped so. “Dan had the dearest face in all the world, I do believe.”
Katie had agreed wholeheartedly. She would have loved to pursue the matter with Annie, but because her wedding date had recently been published and was widely known among the People, no more public talk of Dan Fisher was appropriate.
“I think Mam’s gonna ask you to be servers at my wedding,” she whispered as Annie settled into the rocker near the woodstove.
Since his favorite chair was in use, Dat went to sit at the head of the table. He rested his arms on the green-and-white checkered tablecloth, looking as though he might be expecting a piece of
schnitz
pie, perhaps.
“Of course, Dat and Mam should do the asking,” Katie spoke up, glancing at Rebecca across the kitchen as she pulled dessert dishes from the cupboard.
“Ach . . . ask away,” Elam said, giving Mam a peck on the cheek. “We can always say no, now can’t we?”
“Well?” Rebecca eyed her son. “Would you and Annie consider being servers for the wedding?”
Katie noticed Annie purposely glance at her tall, handsome husband, waiting submissively for Elam’s reply. He would make the decision for the two of them.
“Jah, we’ll serve,” Elam replied cheerfully, without a trace of teasing on his ruddy face. “It’ll be an honor, you know that.” He grinned at Rebecca. “Who else will you be asking, Mam?”
“Oh, Aunt Nancy and Uncle Noah, and Dat’s youngest brother and his wife. Close relatives, mostly.”
“What about David and Mattie Beiler?” Elam taunted her. “Wouldn’t you like to have them help, too?”
Before their mother could answer, Katie spoke up. “Mattie will probably be doing other things, but Abe and Rachel Stoltzfus will be helping out in the kitchen.”
“Ah!” Elam threw up his big hands. “So . . . the best friend’s parents are pushing Mattie out, jah?”
“Elam Lapp,” Mam reprimanded softly, “hold your tongue.”
Katie stifled a smirk. The scene was a little comical; interesting, too. She continued to observe the joshing between her brother and Mam, keenly aware of their striking resemblance—clearly visible, even to strangers. No one would ever doubt who had given birth to the robust twenty-seven-year-old man. She envied the bond between each of her brothers and her parents—especially the obvious physical link between the firstborn of the Lapp family and Rebecca herself. Even with a year’s growth of whiskers, Elam’s facial features matched hers closely—the high forehead, the dimples, the straw-colored hair. No doubt about it, he was her boy.
Elam had always seemed comfortable cutting up in front of Mam. Today was no exception. In spite of his sometimes obnoxious friskiness— Elam had a tendency to carry things a bit too far at times, Katie thought—he exuded a warmth of spirit, a connecting tie even now, as a married man living twenty minutes away from the old stone house. A married man come home for a Sunday afternoon visit, true, but one who loved his homeplace still. Katie sensed it, perhaps more strongly today than ever before.
“So . . . it’s final, then—we won’t be including Mattie?” Elam persisted, teasing his Mam.
“Jah, final” was Rebecca’s firm answer.
“Are you sure, now? Don’t you want mad Mattie over here taking charge of your kitchen, Mam?”
Dat let out a grunt of displeasure. After all, it was the Lord’s Day.
Elam poked his finger into Katie’s rib, carrying the frivolity one step further. She backed away, shaking her head. Mam would have to deal with her eldest son’s never-ending shenanigans.
And deal with him, she did. Rebecca served up schnitz pie, a hefty slice of stink cheese, and black coffee to keep Elam’s hands and mouth busy.
More relatives—Noah and Nancy Yoder, Rebecca’s sister and husband, and six of Katie’s first cousins—showed up in time to enjoy the dried apple dessert. And if it hadn’t been a Sunday, the women would have made quick work of the walnuts and hickory nuts still waiting to be cracked for the wedding. Instead, Rebecca invited all of them back on Tuesday morning for a work frolic.
“Will you be telling your stories again?” one of the cousins asked.
“Oh, most likely.” Rebecca grinned, and Katie realized that her mother had taken the question as a compliment.
Mam was beaming today—her extended family gathered around her like chicks around a hen. Warmth and goodwill seemed to permeate the house, and by the time Bishop John arrived on the scene, Katie was genuinely glad to see him.
John took the cup that was offered him and swigged down a few sips of Rebecca’s delicious black coffee. Greetings were exchanged around the kitchen, with many relatives mentioning the upcoming wedding on Thursday.
When the good-byes were said, Katie bundled up in her warmest shawl and headed out to the buggy with John, wondering what it would be like to bring her new husband home for a Sunday afternoon visit.
