The Thorn Part 22

"No, Hen, you're the one who needs s.p.a.ce." She heard him breathe out in a huff.

"Mattie Sue and I are doing all right here. But we miss you, Brandon."

"It was outrageous what you did." He sounded like he'd been storing up his frustration until this minute. "You cleared out Mattie's room!"

She sputtered, trying to make an excuse. "I wanted her to feel ... comfortable."

"Do you ever listen to yourself?" he said. "You aren't planning a short stay, are you?"

"Don't jump to conclusions."

"Am I?"

She sighed. This was deteriorating quickly. "Mattie Sue would love to see you."

"Well, bring her home."

She ignored his comment, trying to remember all the good times they'd shared. Right now, in the heat of their discussion, she hardly recalled any. "Did you get my letter?"

"I told you what you could do about visiting before you left."

"Mattie Sue and I really hope you'll come," Hen said, trying to do what the bishop's wife had said, but she was failing miserably. "I'd love to cook a nice hot dinner for you - your favorite."

"On an old cookstove, right?"

"Actually, yes." She said more softly, "I think you might like it."

He hedged, like he wasn't sure, despite his usual bravado. "I would like to see Mattie ... and you, too, Hen." He paused for what seemed like minutes. Then he added, "But why not cook here?"

"It would mean a lot to us if you'd accept our invitation ... here." She waited, hoping he might change his mind. "I'll make steak with the rich gravy you like."

Another long pause. Was there any chance he'd accept?

Then, with a sense of great deliberation, he said, "I'll come on one condition."

"Yes?" She held her breath.

"That dinner is only with you and Mattie."

"That's fine. I'll look forward to it, and Mattie Sue will be so happy."

"By the way, I was planning a little surprise for Mattie, so maybe I'll bring it along," he said almost cheerfully.

"Any hints?"

"Nope ... you'll just have to wonder."

She almost smiled. So the real Brandon was definitely alive and well. "We'll eat around five o'clock, okay?"

He said he'd be there, and she hung up the phone. Overwhelmed with relief, Hen did a little jig right there inside the rickety phone shanty. He's not as stubborn as I thought!

Hen waited until after Mattie Sue was ready for bed to tell her the news. "Daddy's coming for supper this Sat.u.r.day."

"Goody! I'll help set the table," Mattie Sue volunteered, surprising Hen as they sat at the small table in a circle of gaslight. "And, Mommy, do I have to wear my old clothes? The fancy ones?"

"No, darling. You can wear your favorite Amish dress."

"The blue one!" Mattie Sue hurried off to the front room and returned with her two library books. "Can I show these to Daddy, too ?"

You sure won't be watching TV together!

"If you want to."

Mattie Sue looked up at her. "And, Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetie."

"Is Daddy coming to live with us?"

She hadn't expected this. "Well, he didn't grow up like I did, so he's not as interested in Amish ways, honey."

"I didn't grow up here, either, Mommy."

She has a good point!

There was a knock at the door, and they looked up to see Rose Ann waving at them through its window.

"Come in," Hen called as Mattie Sue ran to give her aunt a hug.

Rose greeted her niece and watched as she spun around in her little Amish dress till Mattie squealed, "I'm getting daremlich!"

Hen laughed. She's not only dizzy; she's picking up Deitsch very quickly. And in that moment, she startled herself, realizing how happy she was to use her first language more freely. It would be easier if I felt that way about everything, like not driving a car. She had a strong attachment to her sedan. Yet Hen understood Dad's concern in asking her to park it somewhere less obvious. "Hide it under a tree somewhere," he'd advised just before supper. Despite the lack of power lines, anyone pa.s.sing by who saw it might immediately gather the house was occupied by Englishers.

"Pick a storybook," Rose Ann said as she settled down onto the little settee with Mattie, near the window.

Mattie Sue was teasing her auntie, shuffling the books - both were stories about puppies. "I can't decide! Eenie, meenie, miney, moe...

"Close your eyes, then." Rose Ann placed the books behind her back. "Okay, now point to one of my hands, either the right or the left, and that's the book we'll read first."

Mattie Sue giggled and waited, shilly-shallying, undecided as to which hand to choose. Hen was amused by her daughter's inability to make a decision - how the bishop must think of me now. The realization made her chagrined. She wanted to open her arms to her husband - embrace him fully without accepting the worldly things he stood for. There was the biggest catch, and the most difficult challenge. But to obey the man of G.o.d, she must figure out how to combine the two.

Maybe Sat.u.r.day's supper will prove helpful, Hen thought, still shocked that Brandon had agreed to come.

Yet the confident ring in his voice when he had mentioned a surprise made her not only wonder, but also shelter her heart.

While Rose Ann read to Mattie Sue, Hen paged through the small wedding alb.u.m she'd brought. She stared at her own happy face as a young bride and recalled how giddy she had been that day. Brandon had jokingly suggested they marry quickly to keep from sinning - certainly they'd hardly known each other long enough to make a rational decision about a lifelong commitment. But they had grown as friends since then, although now when Hen thought of it, she wasn't sure what commonalities they shared. They didn't see eye to eye on rearing a child, that was evident.

With her pointer finger, she traced her wedding veil in a picture. What did I set out to give to this marriage? Am I still this Plain-turnedfancy woman inside?

She glanced over at her sister, all curled up with Mattie Sue. The endearing sight brought tears to her eyes. How can I not stay the course here with my darling girl?

There had been more than a dozen opportunities since returning home to point out to Mattie Sue the importance of embracing honesty, generosity, patience, and kindness in one's life - all the lovely character traits she had been taught as a child. And Mattie was receiving the loving instruction more receptively than when they had lived at home with Brandon. Surely it was the worldly environment that had made the difference, she thought.

How hard will Brandon laugh if I ask him to join the Amish church with me?

Hen was feeling especially lonely, so she was delighted when Rose Ann stayed around until after Mattie was tucked into bed. Putting on a kettle of water for tea, she sat at the kitchen table, across from her sister.

"Mattie seems eager to learn our ways," Rose Ann pointed out. "It surprises me, really."

"She's young ... and open to it." Hen set two cups and saucers on the table. "I was actually worried she might already be too ensnared in English life for any of this to take."

"What are ya hopin' for, Hen? I mean, for Mattie Sue?"

She placed several kinds of tea bags in a small bowl and put them on the table next to the sugar. "Between you and me, I haven't felt this free since I left home to marry. This life" - and here she gestured with her hand - "is what I believe in. It's true and has eternal value. I feel as if I have to break through to it somehow ... because I want Mattie Sue to grow up Amish."

Rose Ann smiled. "Maybe it took leavin' your fancy life to grasp this."

"Jah ... I had to find out the hard way."

"Are ya filled with joy now?"

It was a strange question coming from Rose Ann, who was usually not this reflective. "I once read a Shakespeare sonnet that reminds me of how I feel right now," Hen said. "When I'm walking on Amish soil, I feel my losses are restored and my sorrows have ended."

Rose looked unexpectedly sad. "Not when you're with Brandon?"

"I don't know how to explain it, other than to say that things have radically changed. Yes, I did experience all of those things when we were first married. But I was in a much different place then ... and conceited as a crow."

Rose sat quietly, rearranging the tea bags. "I guess if you can figure out what's different now, then you can try 'n' remedy it somehow."

"I must appear disloyal to Brandon," Hen admitted. "I'm not exactly sure what's going on myself." Why am I so eager to raise Mattie Sue in the Anabaptist tradition?

"Brandon's coming for supper this Sat.u.r.day," she told Rose.

"Seriously?"

"It's surprising, but yes."

Rose clapped her hands. "Oh, sister, this is wonderful-gut!"

"Well, I hope so."

Rose leaned forward. "You should be jumpin' for joy."

"I actually was." She described her little dance in the phone shanty. "But I have a feeling something's up." The teakettle whistled, and she went to get it off the stove. "He's bringing a surprise."

"Look on the bright side - might be something nice."

Hen shrugged. "Brandon can negotiate like n.o.body I've ever known. You don't know my husband."

"No ... and I wish I did. He's family, after all." Rose chose peach pa.s.sion herbal tea and held her cup and saucer while Hen poured boiling water over the bag.

Poor Rosie. Hen didn't have the heart to tell her that Brandon had made a point of wanting to see only her and Mattie Sue. He doesn't care about my sister or brothers and their wives and children ... or my parents, either. And never has.

As she sat down and dripped some honey into her tea, Hen began to understand precisely why she felt so lonely - and why it was so critical that Mattie Sue become familiar with her Amish heritage. This life brought peace with it ... and was far better than anything else the world had to offer.

As surprises go, Gilbert Browning's arrival at the Kauffmans' on Friday morning was most unforeseen. Rose was enjoying the final chapters of Emma with her mother when she heard a car coming up the driveway. Looking out the window, she recognized the old rattletrap with Gilbert Browning sitting in the driver's seat.

"Well, lookee there!" She quickly explained to Mamm that the widower she worked for had just arrived.

Before her mother could say much of anything, Rose kissed her cheek and said she'd go and call Hen to come sit with her, since Mammi was doing some shopping for tomorrow's work frolic. She did that as quickly as she could, then hurried back through the yard to meet Mr. Browning, who'd already stepped out of the car. "What a nice surprise," she told him as he gave the countryside a once-over.

"You've got quite a spread of land here," he said. "I had the hardest time finding your place, until I asked the fellow over on Bridle Path Lane."

"You came that way?" Rose winced. "You must've talked to Jeb Ulrich."

"He seemed to know about your family ... said your mother had an accident not but a few yards from his little hut."

She wished he hadn't brought that up. "At least he steered ya in the right direction."

Mr. Browning mentioned the stacked rock sculptures found at random up and down Bridle Path Lane. "Have you ever seen them? Flat rocks piled up in graduated sizes from large at the base to very small at the top. They're quite the works of art."

"I know what you're talking about," she said, though she didn't know who'd created the curious piles.

"There are even garden turtles and other decorative things set under the large bushes there in the hollow," he said. "Beth might like to see them sometime."

"I've seen 'em, too," Rose said, then offered to take him around the farm. "How long can ya stay?"

"Thanks, Rose, but I'm here for Beth." He paused and turned to look at her. "She hasn't stopped asking to meet you since you were at our place Wednesday. It's been a while since she's had her heart so set on something."

Rose smiled her delight. "I'd love to meet her, too."

"She asked if I would bring you back with me today." He wore a slight smile of his own. "I don't know if it will suit or not."

"Right now?"

"If you have time."

Rose didn't skip a beat. "Sure, I'll go with ya." She explained that she must let her Mamm and sister know. "Just let me run inside right quick." Oh, she could hardly wait to meet Gilbert Browning's secret daughter!

Rose took along some freshly baked sticky buns she and Hen had made earlier that morning. Carrying the plate into the Browning house, she was met by Beth, who sat stiffly in the very chair her father always sat in, although it had been moved off to the side, near the lamp table.

Beth's hair was flax gold and as cropped as any Amish boy's. Her eyes looked as blue as the sky when the wind had swept it clean, framed by thick lashes. The young woman Gilbert Browning had been hiding from her was beautiful. "Are you Rose?" Beth asked hesitantly.

"Jah, I'm your father's housekeeper and cook. It's nice to meet you." Finally, she mentally added.

"I'm glad you came with Daddy," Beth said, staring at her.

Rose realized she must look peculiar to the young woman. She held her breath, hoping Beth wouldn't be upset.