The Mending Read online

  Malinda dozed off and on as the van zipped along the interstate and only fully awoke when it made a left turn right after they crossed the line into Charles County. Depending on traffic, and how fast the driver pushed them, she might be home in St. Mary’s County in twenty to thirty minutes. The Englischer who usually drove her family or neighbors places too far to travel by buggy was a very cautious driver who strictly obeyed speed limits and road signs. The Ohio man behind the wheel of this van was totally unfamiliar to Malinda and seemed to be a bit more of a risk taker. Malinda knew they had only barely squeaked through several yellow traffic lights, and she felt pretty sure they had exceeded the speed limit on more than one occasion.

  She wiggled in her seat and stretched out her tingly legs. She hoped they would hold her weight, slight though it was, when she finally stood. She also hoped she’d be able to unglue her backside from the seat. The driver had said he planned to stop at the grocery store in Clover Dale. Her daed or mamm would meet them there. That way the driver could more quickly head back home. Just a few more miles to go.

  The Welcome to St. Mary’s County sign was a welcome sight indeed. They only had to pass a few gas stations and businesses before turning into the store’s parking lot. Malinda began counting the seconds as the van waited for the light to turn green. Her head jerked hard when the driver hit the accelerator, and she almost bit her tongue. She strained to see if a buggy was waiting at the far side of the store.

  As the van drove around the edge of the parking lot, Malinda spied a dark gray buggy. It could be anyone from the community, since all the Amish in Southern Maryland drove dark gray buggies. If she could catch a glimpse of the horse, she’d know for sure and for certain. Jah. It was definitely Mamm or Daed. She’d know their big dark brown horse anywhere. When he flicked his head, Malinda could plainly see the white star above Chestnut’s nose. Home. She’d be home very soon.

  Malinda fumbled with the catch on the seat belt and finally freed herself as the driver hopped out. How did he jump out so quickly after sitting in the same cramped position for hours? Malinda exited the van more slowly. She even had to hold on to the side of the van to keep her balance as she took baby steps on wobbly legs. She shook each leg a bit, hoping to dispel the pins and needles prickling them from feet to thighs, but her effort was fruitless. She hobbled to the back of the van to claim her suitcase and quilted carryall bag.

  Malinda thanked the driver a moment before arms encircled her and nearly squeezed the breath from her body. “Ach, Mamm! I didn’t even see you get out of the buggy.”

  “Wilkom home, Malinda.” Saloma Stauffer released Malinda and fumbled with the purse hooked on her left arm. “Let me pay the driver.”

  “It’s already taken care of, ma’am,” the driver replied.

  “How? Malinda, did you . . .” Saloma turned to look at Malinda. With one fidgety hand, she tucked a wisp of light brown hair under her white kapp and shoved her silver-rimmed glasses back up her nose.

  “Miss Mary paid me before we left Ohio,” the driver said. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “That was gut of her.”

  “I’m going to get back on the road. You ladies have a good day.”

  “Danki. Have a safe trip,” Malinda replied.

  “Kumm, Malinda.” Saloma hoisted the heavy suitcase, leaving the lighter bag for Malinda.

  Here it kumms. The invalid treatment.

  Chapter Two

  “I can get that, Mamm.”

  “You don’t look like you could carry a gnat. Didn’t they feed you in that hospital? I knew I should have gone out there to take care of you.” Saloma’s voice faded, but she continued talking as she headed toward the buggy.

  Malinda stared at her mamm’s back and smiled at the continuous mumbling she couldn’t decipher. That’s Mamm. Always fussing and worrying over me. Malinda picked up the carryall bag and followed her muttering mamm.

  Saloma set the suitcase in the back of the buggy and plucked the bag from Malinda’s hands. “Let me look at you.” Her brown eyes, not quite as big or as dark as Malinda’s, traveled up and down Malinda’s body. “Too thin. Way too small.”

  “Mamm, you’re hardly a giant yourself. You’re about five feet nothing and probably don’t weigh a hundred pounds dripping wet.”

  “Jah, but I doubt you even weigh ninety.”

  “You know how it is when I get a flare-up. I was very dehydrated, and I hurt too much to eat.”

  “Well, you’re home now, and I intend to fatten you up a bit.”

  Malinda rolled her eyes when Saloma’s gaze wasn’t fixed on her. She knew better than to protest. When her mamm got on a roll, she may just as well save her breath.

  Saloma paused before climbing into the buggy. “Is there anything you want from the store while we’re here?”

  “I can’t think of anything.”

  “Okay. Let’s go home before the traffic picks up with folks on their way home from work.”

  “Home. That sure sounds gut to me.” Malinda grasped the edge of the open buggy door to pull herself up. Ordinarily she could hop right into the buggy like her mamm just had, but she still felt a little weak. Her wobbly legs had a mind of their own and offered only minimal support. Malinda plopped onto the seat and gave a weak smile when Saloma peered at her out of the corner of her eye. She settled her skirt and nodded at her mamm. “I’m ready.”

  Saloma clucked to Chestnut, and the buggy rolled forward. The slower pace and rhythmic clip-clop of the horse’s hooves calmed Malinda’s nerves. Her tight shoulder muscles and stiff back relaxed. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d become as the van had raced along the highway. Mamm steered the buggy to the shoulder of the southbound lane of traffic. Malinda relaxed even more when they turned off onto a smaller road leading to their community.

  “The honeysuckle has bloomed.” Malinda sniffed the sweet fragrance. “I guess I missed the pear trees and apple trees.”

  “Jah. They’ve already bloomed. I suppose you left before any of the flowers started blooming.”

  “Spring was just getting under way when I left. Now summer is half gone.”

  “Ohio must have been pretty, though.”

  “It was. The fields that hadn’t been plowed were dotted with all sorts of wildflowers. Aenti Mary’s flowers were pretty. I kept them weeded and watered until I got sick. I felt so guilty, Mamm. I was there to help her, and she ended up helping me.”

  “I’m sure she was plenty grateful for your company and your help.” Saloma stretched out her right arm to pat Malinda’s knee. “Besides, she was about well when you took sick, ain’t so?”

  “She was pretty well recovered.”

  “Are you pretty well recovered, too?”

  “I think so. I still feel a little weak, but being home makes me feel ever so much better.”

  “Gut. We’ll get you strong and healthy again.”

  Malinda sighed and lapsed into silence. She would not give voice to her fears and doubts. She studied the scenery that passed by her. Her neighbors’ neat yards looked the same as always. Little brown birds perched in clumps along electric wires strung between the poles along the road. Of course, those wires only led to her Englisch neighbors’ houses. White, cottony clouds slid across the bright, blue sky. The moving buggy generated a slight breeze to cool the hot afternoon. A young Amish woman and man on the side of the road caught her attention.

  “Malinda!” the young woman cried.

  “Ach ! It’s Phoebe Yoder.” Malinda waved at her freind. Phoebe had been a year ahead of her at school, but they had always been gut freinden.

  “Wilkom home, Malinda! I’ll visit soon,” Phoebe called.

  Malinda nodded and turned toward her mamm. “Who was that with Phoebe?”

  Saloma pushed her glasses up again with her left forefinger. “That’s Ben Miller. I guess he arrived here after you left for Ohio.”

  “Ben Miller. Ben Miller.” Malinda tapped her head as if that would jog her mem
ory.

  “Ben is Rufus and Lena Kurtz’s grandson. He lived here as a boy until his mamm died. Then his daed moved them to Holmes County. He used to visit, though, in summers.”

  “I remember now. He’s older than me, so I didn’t really know him at school.”

  “He’s a bit older than Phoebe, too, I’m thinking.”

  “Are he and Phoebe, uh, a couple?”

  “Now, that I’m not sure about. Phoebe took the kidnapping of her little schweschder very hard. She blamed herself and sort of avoided people. It seems Ben has been a great freind to her.”

  “You wrote me about the kidnapping. That must have been so awful. Little Naomi is fine, ain’t so?”

  “Jah. The Lord brought her back unharmed. What a blessing for the Yoders and all of us. Naomi is happy and healthy. Lavina scarcely lets her out of her sight.”

  “That’s understandable. Having your boppli snatched away and not knowing if you’ll ever see her again must be an awful thing.” Malinda sniffed and blinked back the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes at the very thought of the nightmare the Yoders had experienced. She searched for a new topic of conversation. “In one of Phoebe’s letters to me, she mentioned something about Micah Graber. She isn’t courting him, is she?”

  “Now Malinda, you know very well those things are private.” A sly smile slid across Saloma’s face. She cocked one eyebrow and glanced askance at her dochder.

  “Right, Mamm. There’s nothing private around here. News and even possible news travels faster along the Amish grapevine than it would along that telephone wire going from one Englisch house to another.”

  Saloma chuckled. “And you missed it while you were gone, ain’t so?”

  Malinda laughed. “It was hard piecing things together from the snippets of information I gleaned from yours, Phoebe’s, or Mary Stoltzfus’s letters.”

  “I daresay it gave you something to do when you weren’t tending to your aenti.”

  “Aenti Mary healed very quickly from her hip surgery. She’s getting around now with barely a limp. I’m just sorry I frightened her and she ended up worrying about me. I-I wish this horrible illness would just go away. I’ve prayed so much for healing, but it hasn’t happened.”

  “The Lord Gott gives us strength to bear whatever comes our way.” Saloma reached over to squeeze Malinda’s hand.

  “I know, but—”

  “The apostle Paul prayed for healing, too. Remember? The Lord had other plans and told Paul His grace was sufficient.”

  How many times had Mamm reminded her of this Bible passage? The Lord did not remove the apostle Paul’s thorn in the flesh, whatever it was. Paul apparently accepted Gott’s grace after asking three times for healing. Malinda had asked, nee, begged for healing every day since she first got sick three years ago. She hadn’t been accepting of her disease, as Paul was of his problem. But Paul didn’t feel like no one would ever want to marry him, or like he would be a burden to someone. He didn’t have a burning desire to give birth to a boppli and nurse that boppli at his breast. He didn’t even want to get married.

  Sure, Malinda was only nineteen. It wasn’t like time was running out for her to have kinner, but joining the church, marrying, and having a houseful of kinner were all she had ever wanted. She had no desire to taste the Englisch world, where girls her age were working or going to college. She had no desire to wear jeans or makeup or to drive a sporty car. She simply wanted a home and a family.

  Most of her freinden were courting or were already married. She knew her older bruders Sam and Atlee slipped out of the house to visit their girlfriends. No doubt one or both would be marrying this wedding season. Malinda sighed. Mamm would tell her—and had in fact told her on more than one occasion—to wait on the Lord and trust in Him. She would remind Malinda she was only nineteen. But in three years of attending singings when she wasn’t sick, no bu had ever asked to take her home.

  She didn’t think her looks were too frightening. Little ones didn’t run away in fear, and adults didn’t shrink back in disgust. Even Dr. McWilliams must have found her attractive—but she wouldn’t let her thoughts go there. It must be her illness that made the fellows keep their distance. What young man would want to be saddled with a sickly fraa?

  Who would want to take on the expense of her medications and doctor appointments? Of course, there were times she felt well and strong, but when a flare-up hit, she felt like her insides were being ripped out and she had all the strength of a newborn kitten. A man wanted a woman who could keep the household running smoothly every day, who could bear him strapping sons. She sighed again.

  “Malinda?”

  “Hmm?” Malinda called her mind back from its wandering and focused on her mamm.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Jah. I-I need to accept Gott’s will.”

  “Right.”

  “It’s so hard.” Malinda flicked away the tear that trickled down her cheek.

  Saloma squeezed Malinda’s hand again. “I know, dear one.” She returned her hand to the reins and guided the horse to make the turn onto the long gravel driveway leading to their house. Chestnut could easily have made the turn without prompting. He acted as eager to return home as Malinda was. “Daed and your bruders will be ever so glad to see you.”

  Chapter Three

  Malinda put a hand to her still-tender belly as they bumped along the rutted driveway. She’d told the nurse and Dr. McWilliams she no longer had pain, and that was true for the most part. The sharp, gut-wrenching pain had subsided, leaving behind a dull ache, which had recently turned into a soreness mainly experienced with certain movements.

  Never one to miss a thing, Saloma said, “I’ll have to get your daed to grade the driveway. I told Rufus just the other day it feels like we’re driving over a washboard.”

  “I’m okay.” Malinda moved her hand to her lap. She had no desire to return to the hospital or to see a doctor. Mamm’s fussing over her would be hard enough to bear. She knew her mamm meant well, but sometimes her hovering gave Malinda little peace.

  Malinda’s gaze soaked in her surroundings. It seemed she’d been gone a lot longer than a few months. The hay-fields must have been cut recently, since the grass was fairly short. Daed and her bruders must be working in a back field now. Sam and Atlee, at twenty-three and twenty-one, may even be at other jobs. Sam often worked at Swarey’s Furniture Shop. Crafting furniture appeared to be his calling. Atlee put in a lot of time at the fairly new cheese factory. Sixteen-year-old Roman, thirteen-year-old Ray, and even eight-year-old Aden would no doubt be performing whatever tasks Daed had assigned them.

  Tears pooled in Malinda’s eyes when she drank in the sight of the big two-story white house. She was so very glad to be home. For a while there in the hospital, she had wondered if she’d ever return. That had been her worst flare-up ever. No wonder Aenti Mary had been frightened. Malinda had been frightened herself. She’d heard the murmurings of possible surgery among the hospital staff and thanked the Lord her condition had improved.

  Scarlet and salmon geraniums, white and pink begonias, and heavenly-smelling dianthus bloomed near the house in neat flower beds. The lush green grass looked freshly mowed, and the wooden porch swing rocked ever so gently in the slight breeze. Ach! It was gut to be home. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here to help you with the yard and garden. You must have been working so hard. Everything looks nice.”

  “I had Aden do a lot of the weeding and such. He’s still young enough not to mind helping out his mamm. Ray, on the other hand, muttered under his breath, but he helped out from time to time.”

  Malinda smiled. She could imagine Ray mumbling about doing women’s work. He wouldn’t dare disobey Mamm, though. He may complain, but he’d do as he was told, for sure. “At least we’re home in time for me to help you with supper.”

  “It’s mostly done. You just rest up before your bruders traipse into the house. A long ride can be most tiring, even for healthy people who hav
en’t just gotten out of the hospital.”

  Healthy. Would Malinda ever feel healthy again? She knew her mamm hadn’t meant for her words to sting, but they pierced Malinda’s soul nonetheless and reinforced her belief that no man would want a sickly fraa. Tears threatened again. Maybe she’d take Mamm up on the suggestion to rest. She must be more tired than she’d thought.

  Malinda trudged up the stairs to her room, carrying her belongings. Being the only girl had at least one advantage—she didn’t have to share a room. She gratefully dropped the suitcase and bag onto the bed. They had grown heavier with each step and left her gasping for breath by the time she reached the top. She must be weaker than she’d thought, too. It only took a few minutes to hang her dresses on the wall pegs and to put her nightgown and undergarments in the drawers of the big oak dresser. Thank goodness she had washed all her clothes the day before leaving Ohio so she didn’t have a pile of dirty laundry staring her in the face.

  Her room looked just as she had left it, though she knew Mamm had dusted every week. She breathed a sigh of relief to be back in the familiarity and comfort of her own home. Maybe she’d stretch out on the bed for just a moment before helping Mamm. Despite dozing during much of her trip home, fatigue still gnawed at her. She’d just lie here and look around her room and thank the Lord for bringing her home safely. Her eyes traveled from her solid-colored blue, purple, and green dresses hanging on pegs to the wide dresser with its four deep drawers and two smaller drawers to the brown and beige rag rug on the dark oak floor. Her fingers plucked at the quilt with its blocks of blue, purple, and white. Mamm had stitched it for her years ago. No longer being jostled about in a van or buggy, Malinda finally relaxed her tense muscles. Ahh, just a little rest.