Chapter 13
The few weeks until the Christmas program passed in a flurry of activity inside the little school. Lilly had each student painstakingly make out an invitation to friends and family as she tried to ignore the excitement of Jacob’s response to her own private invitation. She wasn’t quite sure why his words were like a secret of delight that she treasured. They’d seen each other several times before the program, of course, deciding on a simple wedding with few guests. As was customary, Jacob delivered the invitations in person, while Lilly concentrated on her mother and all of the preparations for the day. But she couldn’t fully focus on the wedding until the school program was past, so instead, she concentrated on last-minute rehearsals and the children’s favorite—decorating the classroom.
The class quilt had been completed by several of the mothers and was strung in a delightful display across two windows on a piece of clothesline. The winter sunlight penetrated the thin quilt and made the vibrant colors and images stand out in vivid hues. Lilly had hand-stitched each student’s first name on his or her particular square and knew that the parents, or at least the mothers of the community, would be pleased by the fine work of the students.
“How’s this, Miss Lapp?” Reuben Mast held up a paper chain of red and green construction paper, while his paste-dabbed nose and cuffs gave evidence of his hard work.
Lilly smiled. “It’s beautiful. Your mamm will love it.”
“Jah. But—”
“Yes,” Lilly interjected. “Use yes.”
Reuben sighed. “Yes, but my daed’s—my dad’s—not likely to ‘ppreciate all this decorating. ‘Women’s work’ he would call it. That’s what he said about the quilt square when I told him.”
Some of the students laughed.
“I see, well, I’d like you all to know that decorating and making a community quilt are not just ‘women’s work.’ It’s art. And many of our greatest artists, even Amish artists, are men.”
“No way,” Reuben burst out.
“Jah. I mean, yes. They are.”
“Like who?”
The whole class was listening now, and Reuben puffed out his fifth-grade chest with pride at having caught the ears of everyone in the room. Lilly enjoyed the moments when the younger students could be heard, so she chose to extend the discussion.
“Well, you’ve all seen the fine leatherwork that Amish men do during the winter to sell at spring festivals—the saddles, satchels, belts, and such. All of that could be called ‘sewing’ by some, but it’s really art.”
“That ain’t art.” John Zook interjected his voice, strident with adolescence.
“Isn’t, John, and yes it is art. Don’t you find that leatherwork is interesting to look at? The design details are inspiring and make you think that what you see is more than just a piece of cowhide.”
The youth considered. “Ye-es, I guess so. But why care about art that men make anyway? Isn’t Derr Herr the best artist at nature and stuff, like the bishop says at Meeting sometimes?”
Lilly felt the thrill she always did when a student pushed back, stretching and thinking on his or her own. “You’re right, John, of course. But He has blessed us as well that we can create beauty with purpose, like the intricate belt that still holds up a man’s pants.”
Lucy Stolis raised her hand. “Well, what about women’s art, Miss Lapp?”
“What about it? Don’t women do quilting and gardening and sewing which results in beauty with a function?”
Lucy frowned. “I guess, but it seems more like the women’s art is work.”
John grinned at her. “Like it should be.”
“John,” Lilly admonished. “No, Lucy, a woman’s work is different from a man’s, but you know that both must work very hard to make a happy home, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good! Then let’s get this room decorated artistically for the purpose of giving our guests tomorrow a wunderbaar program.”
Jacob had the vague idea that it might be nice if the kitchen floor would open up its fine grooved planks and swallow him whole. He’d come in from the stables for lunch, only to discover Mrs. Zook and Kate sitting down to a cup of tea with his mamm. He’d tried to back out, but his mother seemed oblivious to his silent plea. He had a sudden notion who Seth took after.
“Ladies.” He hung up his coat and hat on pegs behind the door and made his way to the coffeepot.
“Jacob,” his mamm urged. “Come and join us. We were just talking about the Christmas program—and the wedding, of course.”
Great, he thought. Of course, he’d had to invite the Zooks to the wedding since Lilly had wanted the whole of her class to attend—and the younger Zook children were some of her favorite students. Nothing like their big schweschder, he considered. He was not comfortable with the predator-like intensity of Kate’s gaze when he slid onto the bench, but that was youth at nineteen. He remembered it. You had the irrational belief that you could have anyone, anything, if you just wanted it bad enough.
“So, you’ll be attending the program, Jacob?” Mrs. Zook’s tone was as casual as a mother rattler’s.
He blew on his coffee before answering. “Yes, ma’am. That’s my plan.”
“Wunderbaar. I wanted to thank you too, Jacob, for bringing Kate home the other night. She most likely would have frozen without your care.” As though it were an afterthought, she added, “You’ll have to take her riding again sometime soon.”
Jacob chafed under how the words sounded and resisted the urge to reiterate his announced and impending wedding. He shot a sidelong glance at his mother who looked back with a blank expression. Definitely Seth’s mamm, he thought. But he had sidestepped determined girls for years while he’d been waiting for Sarah. He pinned both Kate and Mrs. Zook with an imperturbable gaze.
“Well, while I, as a soon-to-be married man, cannot have the pleasure of Kate’s company, there is someone who might. You see—I haven’t wanted to nose it about the community …” He spoke in a conspiratorial whisper so that the Zook women leaned in like frogs to a fly. “But I’ve made a promise to my brother. You see, he’s incredibly lonely, a tortured soul you might say, and I’ve promised to try and help him find a love of his own, so maybe he could take Kate for a drive sometime.”
“Seth Wyse?” Mrs. Zook snorted. “The boy’s at every gathering there is. Why I’ve seen him with as many girls on his arm as I’ve seen—”
Jacob shook his head in sober consideration. “All a front, Mrs. Zook. A sad, sad front.”
“Is this true, Mary Wyse?” Mrs. Zook’s considerable bosom heaved beneath her blouse.
Mamm stared into her teacup. “I cannot say what goes on between these two boys; they’re best friends.”
“Never mind Seth. You’re not even married yet,” Kate wailed.
Mrs. Zook looked with horror at her daughter, and Jacob choked on a laugh. It was one thing to allude to your desires and quite another to expose them to the full light of day.
He caught Kate’s eye. “I’m sorry, Miss Zook, but I must honor my bride-to-be—and my brother.”
Kate gave him a sour look. “Bride-to-be, huh! Everyone’s suspicious of why you’re really marrying her, why I know—”
“Kate!” Again, Mrs. Zook could not contain herself and Jacob ignored the curious feeling of anger at the younger girl’s barb against Lilly.
“We’d best be leaving,” Mrs. Zook said, sidling from the table and giving Kate a firm shake on the shoulder. The girl rose with reluctance but hadn’t lost her determined eye, which made Jacob wary. Still, he saw them to the door with his mother, then waited for his mamm’s response to the whole conversation. To his surprise, she just hummed and went about clearing up the dishes.
“Not going to lecture me about setting up Seth?” he asked, depositing cups in the sink.
“Nee, did you? I thought you might have been telling the truth; Seth is such a—how did you put it—tortured soul?”
“Mamm,” he groaned. “I’m engaged and that girl is desperate! And besides, I promised—” He broke off, and now his mother looked very interested.
“Promised what?”
“Nothing.”
“Promised who?”
“Mamm,” he exclaimed, exasperated.
She lowered her gaze to the table as she wiped. “Ach, I’m sorry, Jacob. I don’t mean to intrude.”
“Jah, you do, but I love you for it.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “I especially promised Lilly I’d be there.”
“But you usually go—though I doubt you’ve paid much attention standing outside with the young men.”
“Well, this year will be different.”
“Ach, I see.”
He eyed her with suspicion. “There’s nothing to see, Mamm. She’ll be my wife in three days’ time.”
His mother smiled up at him. “Indeed she will, Jacob. Indeed, she will.”