Chapter 29
Lilly crossed the upstairs hallway and knocked on the door with trepidation.
“Kumme in, Lilly.”
Lilly was amazed at the warmth in her mother’s voice and opened the door in some confusion. Her mamm was dressed and seated on the edge of her made bed, concentrating on braiding her long, grayish-brown hair. She turned to look at Lilly over one shoulder.
“Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, Mamm, what … I mean … it’s so good to see you up bright and early.”
“I thought we should prepare for guests today. You know the bishop always makes sure that the widows are visited properly … although, now, with your marriage, I’m not really without a family any longer …”
Lilly sagged against the door, unsure of what to think. It was one thing to see the occasional lifting of her mother’s spirits, the fleeting good mood, but to have her seem so vital was confusing.
“Are you … all right, Mamm?”
“Jah, I’ll be down shortly to help with the meal preparations. Run along now and help your husband … I can smell the stove going.”
“All right.”
Lilly walked down the stairs, rubbing her forehead. She went into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
“What’s wrong? Is your mamm poorly?” Jacob put down a wooden spoon and came closer to her.
“Nee … she’s better … or something.”
“Now that’s a Christmas miracle, jah? Great!”
She shook her head and met his eyes. “No … it’s … there’s something wrong. I don’t know what it is, but I can tell. I can feel it. I’m scared, Jacob.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her with concern. “Maybe you’re overtired, Lilly. Surely your mamm feeling better doesn’t scare you, does it?”
“I don’t know … I guess it sounds strange.”
He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek just as they heard her mother coming down the stairs.
“Go on and sit down a minute, Lilly,” he whispered. “I’ll put the teakettle on.”
She did as he instructed, watching in amazement as her mother joined them at the table to make conversation and to talk with excitement about the coming day.
Later, with a rare smile, Mamm accepted Lilly’s gift of crocheted snowflakes. Then she gave them a small cedar box which Lilly knew had been a gift from her father to her mother, one she held especially dear. “I want you both to have it … a keeping box, Hiram called it. You both can keep your memories inside.”
Lilly smiled and started to relax as she caught glimpses of the woman she knew her mother could be. She decided that she’d been silly in her fears and that Derr Herr was perhaps giving them a very special Christmas gift indeed.
Lilly’s mother retired at a much later hour than usual, after a day of visiting with company and more pleasant talk than she’d uttered in a lifetime—or so it seemed to Lilly. Now she and Jacob sat in chairs near the gift table and he smiled at her in the warm lamplight.
“I forgot to tell you that Seth came by this morning. He … wanted to apologize.”
“I bet that was the best Christmas gift you got today,” she said, thinking how much Jacob loved his bruder.
“And I bet the best gift you had today is how you must be feeling about the change in your mother.”
“Well,” she said, lowering her lashes, “I’ll treasure your present always.” She lifted the folded piece of leather from the table and realized how much time it must have taken for him to make the book cover. It was detailed workmanship of the finest quality, with intricate vines and flowers intertwined in abundant patterns etched into leather.
He laughed. “Gut. I’m glad you like it.”
She laid the book cover back on the table, then reached into her apron pocket for his gift. she’d debated for half the day with herself as to whether or not she should actually give it to him. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but perhaps he’d find it silly. She sighed and passed him the simply wrapped small parcel.
“And here’s your gift, Jacob.”
“Danki.” He smiled, clearly pleased. She watched him open it. He pulled out the square of plain cotton fabric and held it closer to the light of the lamp.
“It’s a square,” he observed.
She laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s not just a square. It’s a quilt square. Your own. I remembered what you told me about Miss Stahley, and I thought, well, maybe you’d like to make a quilt square during one of our tutoring sessions, and I could add it to our class’s spring quilt.”
He was quiet for so long that she feared she’d offended him somehow, but when he looked up, his eyes were golden-green and full of emotion. He shook his head and the lamplight caught on the stray blond strands of his hair. Lilly thought he’d never looked so serious, nor so handsome.
“Lilly … it’s so … nice. And gut. You make me feel like you can see inside of me, like you listen to me … thank you.” His chair creaked as he leaned forward to embrace her with warm arms, then folded the square carefully and tucked it into his pants’ pocket.
She gazed at the present table once more, where handmade decorations of clay and paper trimmings nestled among the pine boughs. He began to ask her about each clay ornament until she slowly began to reveal forgotten parts of her life.
“The Christmas tree is from second grade year,” she recalled as he carefully held the faded green dough.
He turned the tree in his palm toward the light of the lamp. “I can still see your tiny fingerprints in the dough.”
She took it from him, smiling; it seemed an intimate observation. And she wasn’t sure how to respond.
“You still have small hands,” he said as she placed the tree back among the aromatic pine branches.
“Do I?” she asked, extending her hands with innocence toward the light. He touched her then, soft strokes of one callused thumb over her knuckles. And she stilled, like a rabbit in the snow, until the moment was broken by the sudden intonation of the clock and a brief clicking noise, like the closing of a door.
“Did you hear that?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder and drawing from him.
“It was probably just the house creaking.” He looked back to the table. “Tell me about this material here. It almost looks like a quilt top.”
She smiled in memory and caught up an edge of the gay patchwork fabric. “Ach, this is my favorite. My father and I sewed it together when I was a little girl.”
“Only a real man and a gut daed would not be ashamed to quilt with his daughter,” he said with warmth.
“I know. That’s how he was.”
He caught her hand against the fabric. “I miss him too, Lilly. He taught me so much when I was young.”
“I used to watch you come over to the barn from my window.” His eyes gleamed at her confession.
“Did you now? I should have paid more attention …” He trailed off and she kept from mentioning the fact that his thoughts had probably been occupied by Sarah.
“I remember once that Father had a large, unbroken black gelding out in front of the barn and he left you holding the horse’s lead to go and get something from his shed. The horse must have spooked or something because it started to toss its head and prance around, obviously very agitated. I was terrified for you. But you just stood there, relaxed and calm. I don’t know what you did, but he seemed to quiet some. And then you reached out and touched him. And he just stood still. The more you touched him, the calmer he became.”
“I remember that. I was scared out of my mind that the horse would rear or kick, or completely take off. But I knew if I could be calm and relaxed, he might take cues from me. So, I just breathed into his nostrils and did the rest on intuition.”
They were silent for a moment, then Lilly drew a deep breath. “Do you think Derr Herr gives us intuition at times, to help us do His will?”
“If you mean the way we stepped into our engagement and wedding, then yes.”
She moistened her lips in thought, then rose from her chair. “We should go to sleep. Danki, Jacob, for a wunderbaar first Christmas.” She bent as if to hug him, then simply touched his shoulder and hurried to their room.
Jacob sat for a while, perplexed at the emotions that seemed to rush past him whenever Lilly was near. His arm ached and he longed for another dose of liniment—especially if it could be anything like the last time. He sighed aloud, wanting to give Lilly time to change her clothes and get into bed before he took up his self-imposed place on the floor. He knew she wasn’t all that happy with the idea, but he couldn’t trust himself—in more ways than one. In that moment he realized he wasn’t worried about saying Sarah’s name in his sleep again; he just didn’t want to risk touching his fraa’s white skin while he dreamed …