always found that if you want the water to boil you have to turn the gas on under the kettle.” Mary Elizabeth demonstrated by turning the dial. Her mouth quirked in a smile.
“Oh, ya. Silly me.”
Mary Elizabeth pulled out the chair next to Lavina and sat. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. I was just thinking about something and forgot to turn it on.”
“You’re sad.”
Lavina did her best not to sigh. “Ya. I’m sad. I’ll get over it.”
She racked her brain for something to talk about, a way to change the subject. Mary Elizabeth wasn’t shy about pressing an issue when she wanted to.
“I think I’ll have a cookie. Want one? Mamm made some chocolate chip.”
“Schur. But— ”
“Are you going into town with me to Leah’s tomorrow?”
“Maybe next time. Mamm and I are going over to Waneta’s house. Listen—”
“Leah’s going to be happy I’m bringing her orders in a little early.”
“I know.”
“I think she’s going to be really happy with that Sunshine and Shadow quilt you made.”
Mary Elizabeth shrugged. “I like that pattern. And the tourists like the old traditional Amish patterns.”
“Well, you did a great job on it.”
“If I have time I want to do a Broken Star pattern before Christmas.”
Lavina brought the cookie jar to the table and tried to hide her smile. Finally she’d distracted her schweschder from worrying about her.
They talked about quilt patterns for a few minutes and then the teakettle shrieked.
Mary Elizabeth got up to turn the gas off. She filled two cups and sat again.
“I should get tea for Rose Anna.”
“She can come get it if she wants.” Mary Elizabeth handed her a tea bag and then chose one for herself from the bowl on the table.
Lavina listlessly dunked the tea bag over and over in the cup until Mary Elizabeth took it from her and set it the saucer. “Go ahead,” Lavina said. “Tell me I have to get over him.”
“I’m not going to tell you that.”
Lavina looked up. “You’re not?”
“Nee. You love David and time apart isn’t making you forget about him.”
“He made his decision. And he didn’t ask me to leave Paradise with him.”
“Did you ask him?”
Shocked, Lavina stared at her schwesder. “You know I didn’t! I couldn’t!”
“You could have. You chose not to.”
“I couldn’t.”
A windstorm of emotions swirled up inside her. Lavina rose, paced the kitchen. “I couldn’t make that choice. You know I’d have been shunned. I joined the church. But David hadn’t.”
“I wonder—” Mary Elizabeth stopped, then took a deep breath. “Lavina, would you have been as miserable as you’ve been since David left? You’d have been with him.”
“Well, that’s blunt.”
“Ya, you know I say what I think.”
“There’s just one thing you’re forgetting. David didn’t ask me to marry him. He didn’t ask me to go with him.”
“I know.” Mary Elizabeth fell silent for a long moment. “I do understand what you’re feeling. Only a few months after David left his bruder Samuel went with him and took part of my heart.”
Lavina reached out her and touched Mary Elizabeth’s. “I know.”
Rose Anna wandered into the room. “I thought you were going to fix tea. You’re having it without me.” She put her hands on her hips and pouted.
Mary Elizabeth stood and poured another cup of hot water. “It’s my fault. I was talking to her. We weren’t trying to make you feel left out.”
Rose Anna sniffed but took a seat to the right of Lavina. “What were you talking about?”
Lavina started to say it was nothing, but knowing how Rose Anna, the youngest, was acting, she figured it would just make her feel even more left out.
“Mary Elizabeth feels I should have gone with David when he left the community.”
Rose Anna’s face took on a dreamy expression. “That would have been so romantic.”
“He didn’t ask her to go with him,” Mary Elizabeth said. “Remember?”
Lavina’s heart sank. She felt sandwiched in by Blunt Schweschder on one side and Hopeless Romantic Schweschder on the other.
Could the three of them be any more different?
“It was bad enough he left,” Rose Anna complained. “But he didn’t have to take his bruders with him. I really cared about John . . .” Tears filled her eyes.
“We have to stop talking about this,” Mary Elizabeth said. “We’re just going to depress ourselves.”
“I agree,” Lavina said. And heard herself sigh. “I kept hoping he’d change his mind.” She shook her head and stood. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Take your jacket,” Mary Elizabeth said. “It’s getting a little chilly.”
“Yes, Mamm,” she said, making a face at her. But she took the jacket. And then, after only a moment’s hesitation, she put some of the oatmeal raisin cookies they’d baked earlier into a plastic baggie and took them with her. Mary Elizabeth gave her a knowing look. She knew where Lavina was headed.
David’s home—his former home—was just a half-mile from hers so it was no wonder they’d been close as kinner. They’d walked to schul together, played together, gone to youth activities at church together. As the years had passed they’d become such good friends. More than friends. She had thought they were going to get married and then, after repeated arguments with their bishop, he’d suddenly moved away.
She frowned as she neared the Stoltzfus home and saw Waneta, David’s mamm, sitting on the front porch looking miserable.
“Waneta? Are you allrecht?”
“Lavina, gut-n-owed.” She tried to smile. “I’m fine. Just getting some air.”
“Chilly air.” Lavina climbed the steps and took a seat in the rocking chair next to her. “I thought I’d take a walk and bring you some cookies we baked earlier.”
“Such a sweet maedel. Danki.”
Lavina took one of the woman’s hands in hers and found it was cold. She chafed it. “Why don’t we go inside and have some with a cup of tea?”
Suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass inside the house. Waneta jumped and glanced back fearfully.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Just my mann being careless,” Waneta said. “You know men, so clumsy.”
The front door opened, and he stuck his head out. “Where’s my supper?” he demanded. Then he saw Lavina. “You come around to ask about David? Well don’t! I don’t have a sohn!” The door slammed.
Waneta jumped. “He doesn’t mean it.” But tears welled up in her eyes. “He’s not well.”
“Not well?” David had told her once that his dat sometimes