A Change of Heart

Chapter Eleven

MARIAN STRIPPED THE SHEETS FROM THE BED AS JAMES fastened his suspenders. Monday was wash day, and she wanted to get the sheets downstairs and into the pile.

“I think it’s lovely that you are letting Leah go on the picnic with Aaron on Saturday.” She turned in his direction and winked. “Sometimes there is cause to bend the rules a bit, no?”

James sighed. “How can I not? A boy is actually interested in Leah, and it’s for sure that he knows she is lacking in skills. I’m sure his sisters have told him of this.”

“Maybe all that’s not important to Aaron. Maybe he just likes Leah for the person she is.” Marian scooped the sheets into her arms. “Besides, Leah has been trying harder lately, helping more around the house.”

James sat down on the bare mattress pad. “But this trying harder cannot be just to gain her freedoms. It should be a way of life. Edna is much better, but I would still like to see Leah stay around the house and work on her skills. This exception is for Saturday only.”

“Did you see the way Aaron looked at Leah during worship service yesterday? It was very sweet. He really seems to like her a lot.”

James looked toward the ceiling and folded his hands together. “Danki, Lord.” He turned toward Marian and smiled. “I was worrying the girl might live with us forever.”

There was a knock at the bedroom door. “Mamm?”

“Come in, Leah.” Marian bunched the sheets up and balanced them on her hip.

Leah pushed the door open and came in. “Daed, I made your lunch. It’s in your pail on the kitchen counter.”

Marian smiled at James. “Isn’t that nice, James? That’s a chore I won’t have to do this morning.” She turned to her daughter. “Danki, Leah.”

Leah hesitated near the door. “Daed, I was wondering . . .”

“What is it, Leah?” James finished tying his shoes and stood up.

“I was wondering if I could meet Clare and Donna for lunch today in town? I haven’t seen them in—”

“No.” James folded his arms across his chest. “I am allowing you to go to your picnic on Saturday, but that is all for now. You are making great strides, Leah, with your household chores, and I would like to see continued improvement. I waited much too long to enforce these rules. Your sisters can’t be expected to do more than their share.”

“But I’ve been doing my share, plus more,” Leah argued.

“Edna is not one hundred percent yet, and I’d like you to keep doing what you are doing.”

“But, Daed—”

“Leah, that’s enough,” Marian said. “Be grateful that your daed is allowing you to go with Aaron on Saturday.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the door closed behind Leah, Marian asked her husband, “How long are you going to keep this up, James?”

“Until it becomes natural for Leah to pull her share of the load around here, instead of coming in late for every meal, not helping with preparations, laundry, gardening, and other chores. And until she realizes there is no place or time in her life for these fanciful stories of hers. I am pleased with what I see, and I would like to make sure these are habits she will keep up with.”

Marian kissed her husband on the cheek. “I’m going to go take these to her. She said she would start up the wringer and get the clothes washed today.” Marian grinned. “In the past, Leah has made herself scarce on Mondays. I know she dislikes doing the clothes, yet she offered this morning.”

James twisted his mouth to one side. “It wonders me what the girl has prepared me for lunch. After I tend to the fields, I plan to touch up the red paint on both the barns in the far pasture. If it doesn’t make wet later in the day, that’s my plan.” James scratched his forehead and sighed. “That’s a lot of work for a man to do on an empty stomach.”

Marian smiled. “I will have you an afternoon snack, as usual. So, James Petersheim, you won’t starve today if it is something not of your liking.”

Her husband grumbled as he walked out the door. Marian followed along behind him, toting the sheets, hopeful that Leah would stay on course.

Aaron waited until he was able to catch his mother alone Monday morning.

“Mamm?”

“Ya, Aaron.” She pulled a loaf of bread from the oven and placed it on a rack by the stove. “Your daed and Abner are already milking the cows.”

“I’m heading out there, but there’s something I wanted to talk to you about first.”

Sarah Lantz pulled the kitchen mitt from her hand and placed it on the counter, then wiped a trail of sweat from her cheek. “I try to use this oven in the earliest part of the day, but yet this August heat is still unbearable.” She looked up at Aaron. “What is it, dear?”

Aaron glanced over his shoulder and into the den. Seeing it was all clear, he asked, “Where’s Auntie Ruth?”

“I imagine she’s still sleeping. You know your aunt doesn’t rise as early as we do.”

Aaron didn’t figure there was much he could tell his mother that would surprise her about Auntie Ruth, but Aaron had continued to be bothered about Auntie Ruth’s comments.

“Did you know that Auntie Ruth thinks she is going to die soon?”

His mother scrunched her face. “What? Why would she think that? She’s not sick, that I know of.”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know, Mamm. She said that she is going to drop dead soon.” Aaron paused. “Do you think she’s done gone crazy?”

Sarah patted her forehead with a napkin and took a deep breath. “I never know what to think about your Auntie Ruth.” His mother took a seat at the kitchen table. “I remember when I was a girl, Auntie Ruth wasn’t much different than she is now. Except she’s slowed down with age.” She smiled and shook her head. “Do you know that Auntie Ruth came for a visit once when I was twelve or fourteen, and she announced to the entire family that she was going to join a convent and become a nun?”

Aaron knew he needed to get out to the barn and help his daed and Abner, but he’d never heard this story. He sat down across from his mother. “A nun?”

Sarah laughed. “Ya. Of course, she changed her mind later, but I remember the look on everyone’s face when she made the announcement.” She paused. “Auntie Ruth is a spiritual person, but I reckon she is confused sometimes about her relationship with God. She often thinks God is telling her things.”

“But doesn’t God tell us all things—that little voice inside of us when we listen?”

“I suppose so. But, well . . . it’s different with Auntie Ruth. Another time when I was young, she told me that God told her that He didn’t approve of me dating a boy outside of our district.” She smiled. “I don’t think it was so much that God didn’t approve, but that my parents and Auntie Ruth didn’t approve.” She shrugged. “That boy was your father, and all is gut.”

“I’ll go on to the barn. I just wanted you to know what she said.”

“I wouldn’t give it too much concern, Aaron. I love Auntie Ruth, but we all know she is a little—different.”

By Saturday, Leah was more than ready to go on a picnic—with anyone.

She packed the chicken salad sandwiches she’d made, along with some chips, sweet pickles, and two pieces of apple pie that Kathleen made the day before. She added two paper plates and some napkins, then closed the wooden lid on top.

“Leah?” Her mother walked to where Leah was standing at the kitchen counter, then placed a hand on her arm. “Your daed said that your chicken salad is quite gut and that he very much appreciates the way you have been making him lunch this week.” She paused, grimacing a bit. “But he was wondering if, perhaps, you could make him something different next week.”

Leah smiled. “I guess I finally mastered something in the kitchen, and I went a little overboard.”

“Did you make chicken salad sandwiches for your picnic with Aaron today?”

“Ya, I did. I also made a tomato pie, Mamm, but it didn’t come out right.” Leah pointed to the pie on the kitchen counter, with one slice missing. “I tried it, and it doesn’t taste anything like yours and Kathleen’s. It tastes—grainy. So I snatched two pieces of apple pie that Kathleen made, instead.”

Her mother picked up the pie and inspected it. “It looks fine, Leah.”

“Taste it.” Leah pulled a fork from the drawer and handed it to her mother. Then she watched her mother’s face wince with displeasure. “See, I told you. It’s not right at all.”

“Leah, you are to sprinkle basil, parsley flakes, thyme leaves, oregano, onion powder, a little brown sugar, and some salt and pepper over the tomatoes. How much of the herbs did you sprinkle? Particularly, how much pepper?” Marian placed the pie back on the counter.

“Until it covered the tomatoes.”

Her mother dismissed the subject with a wave of her hand. “We will work on this another time. For today, I’m sure Aaron will be very pleased with your chicken salad.”

“Tomato pie is Aaron’s favorite. I wish it had turned out.” She stared at the pie and thought about the extra time she put in this morning to make it. I could have been working on my story.

“Are—are you and Aaron possibly starting a courtship?” Her mother’s voice sounded hopeful but hesitant. Rightly so.

“No. We’re just friends.” Leah shrugged. “He’s nice enough, I reckon.”

Marian smiled. “He is certainly handsome.”

“I miss Clare and Donna, Mamm. I hope Daed will let me have lunch with them soon.”

“Your sister is much better, and you’ve been taking on your share of the household chores. I’m sure your father will come around soon.” She paused. “But, Leah, he will expect you to continue doing your share of the work around here even after he releases you from your punishment.”

Leah knew this to be true. And while she’d mastered chicken salad, she’d messed up everything else she’d tried to cook. Edna had resumed the sewing tasks, since Leah couldn’t seem to sew a straight line or even hem a pair of breeches. Mary Carol practically forbade Leah to help her in the garden ever since she’d accidentally pulled up her sister’s herbs, mistaking them for weeds. And Kathleen loved to do the cooking, so Leah didn’t see why everyone was so insistent that she learn how.

“I just wish there was something for me to do that I’m more— more suited to.” She turned and faced her mother. “Like writing my stories, Mamm. I think that maybe someday they will touch someone, help them to find the Lord, or maybe—”

“Leah, these tales you weave . . . it is a fine hobby. But it does not prepare you to be a proper fraa some day. What will you feed your husband and children? Will you not have your own garden? Will your home not be clean and well tended? What about clothes for your husband and children? Have you thought about all these things and how important these skills are in our community?”

“Ya, Mamm. I guess so.” Leah sighed. “But if I have to do all these things, I’d rather not get married.”

“Leah. Now, don’t say that. You know you don’t mean it.”

“Ya, I do! When I get married—a long time from now—my husband will have to allow me time to write my stories and live on chicken salad sandwiches.”

Her mother hung her head, but when she looked up, she was smiling. “Leah, you will find your way.”

Leah had heard her mother and Edna both say that before. Didn’t they understand? This is my way.

“I think I hear Aaron pulling up,” her mother said as she glanced out the open window in the kitchen. “Go, and have a gut time.”

Leah picked up the picnic basket, kissed her mother on the cheek, and headed out the door.