Chapter Twenty
Ira felt like the can of soda that had spooked his mare a few weeks ago—so fizzy and full of pent-up energy that he’d spew if he didn’t speak his mind. His thoughts had been evolving lately, and this morning’s church service had put the final spin on them. He grabbed Millie’s hand. “Let’s find Ben and meet up with Luke,” he said to her and Nora and Wilma. “There’s something on my mind, and I only want to say it once.”
Millie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t hang back as Ira started through the crowd of men who were setting up the tables. He spotted Ben among them, and saw that Luke was leaving the Glick house after following Gabe to his door. Was he being stupid? Speaking too soon? Or was this the sort of moment that came over folks when they finally realized the path they were meant to follow?
“Bennie,” Ira said as he swatted his older brother’s arm in passing. “I need your ear. Now that Gabe’s been shunned and Wilma and Millie are gonna bunk at Nora’s place, I’ve got something that needs sayin’.”
Ben joined their group as they walked toward the lane. “You gals are sure that goin’ to Nora’s is the right idea?” he asked quietly. “That leaves Gabe to fend for himself—”
“As well he should,” Wilma interrupted. She walked between her daughter and her granddaughter, clutching their hands. “He’s chosen to separate himself with his hard-hearted attitude—just like when he sent our Nora away years ago, with no regard for the details of her situation.”
Ben sighed loudly. “Somebody’ll need to look in on him. Miriam and I can do that, and I’ll let Tom know.”
“I’ll take a turn, too, if he’ll tolerate me,” Nora spoke up. “I’d never forgive myself if he got sick because I’ve caused so much commotion.”
Ira gazed at Nora with great admiration. She was a much deeper person than he’d imagined when he’d first seen her wearing shorts and a ball cap, driving a shiny red car. He probably wouldn’t tell her so in as many words, but she’d been an inspiration to him. A wake-up call.
“Luke!” Ira hollered. “It’s a family meeting.”
When they met up with Luke at the bottom of Ben’s lane, everyone gazed expectantly at Ira. For a moment Ira wondered what he’d gotten himself into, but his heart told him to go with the flow of
rightness
he felt.
“I’ve decided to join the Old Order church,” he blurted. “Ever since Nora showed up, and Gabe’s made such a scene about it, I’ve come to realize that I belong in this district with Ben and the aunts.”
Everyone around him sucked air. Time stood still for a few tight moments.
“Are you
nuts
?” Luke finally rasped. “Gabe Glick’s attitude and his refusal to change it are two of the best reasons to
not
become Amish.”
“I figured you’d see it that way, and I understand,” Ira replied. He took a deep breath, meeting the intense gazes around him. Nora, Wilma, and Millie looked at him with wide, identical eyes, but their faces expressed wonder rather than doubt. A big grin was stealing across his oldest brother’s face.
“And what finally brought ya to this conviction?” Ben asked as he grasped Ira’s shoulder. “I’ve been waitin’ to hear ya take some sort of stand, little brother.
Gut
for you, goin’ in this direction!”
“Oh my,” Millie murmured. “This is a big switch from what you’ve been sayin’.”
“And I hope you’ll bear with me, Millie,” Ira hastened to reply as he squeezed her hand. “It’s the big picture I’m seein’. If we younger fellas don’t join the Old Order, our faith has no chance to evolve away from attitudes like Gabe’s. Bishop Tom—and Vernon and Ben—have newer ways of lookin’ at our life, and I want to be a part of that vision. It’s the right thing to do.”
Nora gazed intently at him. “I’m proud of you, Ira,” she said. “You’ve come a long way since we first met—when, frankly, I had serious doubts about a guy your age dating my sixteen-year-old daughter.”
Laughter softened the tension of the group gathered around him, and Ira relaxed. If a strong woman like Nora believed in his motives—in
him
—he surely must be on the right track. “
Denki
for sayin’ that. I want only the best for Millie,” Ira insisted. “And if she’s not ready to join the church yet, I’ll be patient. It’s a big decision, and we all need to make our choices for the right reasons.”
“Which is another question that’s slapping me in the face,” Luke remarked. “I’ve not heard you say one thing about your belief in God, and you’ve never paid much attention in church or gotten into evening Bible readings and such. I’m hearing more about social issues than religion—”
“And that’s a place for faith to start,” Ben interrupted patiently. He winked at Ira. “After all, most fellas don’t take their instruction until the right young lady puts them in the mood to get married. Had I not been engaged to Polly Peterscheim back in the day, I wouldn’t have joined the Old Order when I did, for sure. But even though she threw me over for a wealthier beau, that little mustard seed of faith Jesus talks about had been planted.”
Ben gazed toward his new house on the hill. “So after years of wanderin’ the Midwest in my farrier wagon, my faith made me the right man for Miriam when I found her last fall. If such a new direction—a whole new life—was what God had in mind for me, I don’t doubt that He’s got wonderful-
gut
plans for you, as well, little brother.”
“I think you’re smart to hitch in with the likes of Bishop Tom—and Vernon,” Nora joined in. “Vernon reminded me a while back that Jesus commanded us to
love
one another, above all the other man-made rules and regulations. Somehow Dat’s lost sight of that,” she went on with a sigh. “So it’s in my best interest to shift his vision as much as I can with my love, instead of resenting his hard attitude.”
“Ya said a mouthful there, Nora,” Ben murmured.
“I’m so glad ya see it that way, Daughter,” Wilma spoke up. “I’m movin’ to your house while your
dat
’s under the ban, but that’s not to say I don’t love that pigheaded fella I married so many years ago. I’m just makin’ a point, hopin’ he’ll feel it faster.”
“Like a needle piercing fabric,” Nora murmured with a chuckle. “Can’t sew things together without poking a few holes.”
As they all chuckled, Millie’s grandmother smiled at Ira full on. “I like what I’m hearin’ now, Ira,” she murmured. “I’ve sometimes wondered about ya bein’ so much older than Millie, yet who am I to judge? Gabe’s fifteen years ahead of me, and it’s worked out. Mostly.”
Millie’s nervous giggle made everyone smile. Ira felt so relieved now that the most important people in his life understood and supported his big decision. He glanced up toward Ben’s yard, where the women were carrying out bowls of chilled salads, baskets of fresh bread, and platters of sliced ham and cold fried chicken. It pleased him to know that this Sunday ritual, eating a common meal with everyone in the church community, would remain a part of his life. These gatherings were where all the best talk and sharing of life events happened—not to mention being a place to latch onto good, solid food like he and Luke couldn’t rustle up at their apartment.
“What say we eat? All this serious talk’s made me plenty hungry,” Ira teased.
Luke gave Ira’s shoulder a playful punch. “I’m glad
some
of your priorities haven’t changed.”
As they all walked back up the hill, Ira smiled. Luke was making jokes and Millie was holding his hand. Ben and Nora had expressed their support, and Wilma appreciated his offer to help move her out of the old Glick farmhouse. All felt very right with his world now, even though he’d changed his path dramatically.
And I thank Ya for that, Lord, and for standin’ by me while I stated my intentions.
Later that afternoon, Millie entered her grandparents’ dim kitchen and stopped. Dawdi stood at the kitchen sink, spooning up tomatoes from a quart glass canning jar. When he glared at her and Mammi, Millie wished she could disappear into thin air to avoid the confrontation she knew was coming.
“I see ya didn’t bother to bring me anything from the meal, after ya filled your own bellies and stayed to gossip,” he groused.
Mammi straightened her shoulders. “Gabe, I’ve told ya time and again that home-canned vegetables need to be boiled in a pan before ya eat them,” she said in a voice that wavered a little. “But ya don’t listen—to me or to Bishop Tom—which is why Millie and I are goin’ to Nora’s house while you’re under the ban.”
Dawdi’s spoon clattered into the sink. “That’s not part of the bargain!” he retorted. “It’s wrong to leave me alone—and even more wrong to take up with an Englischer when ya know
gut
and well I can’t get on by myself.”
“I’m doin’ this so’s you’ll know how it feels to be shut out,” Mammi said in a stronger voice. “Just like you’ve shut Nora out—just like ya haven’t considered the way Tobias Borntreger was the one who sinned all those years ago and brought us all to this sorry state of affairs. I’m callin’ it tough love.”
“And I’m callin’ it flat-out
wrong
,” Dawdi countered angrily. He started toward them, pointing his finger at them. “You’re the wife, Wilma. It’s your place to see to my needs, even if it means I’m to eat at a TV table and ya don’t talk to me much.”
Millie heard the door open behind her and was relieved to see Ira stepping inside.
“So have it your way. Fetch a TV table from the hall closet,” Mammi replied as she eased farther away from him.
“Easy now, Gabe,” Ira warned. “Let’s you and I sit here at the table while Wilma and Millie pack.”
“Help yourself to the brownies in that pan,” Millie said, gesturing toward the other end of the counter. “We’ll be back in a few, Ira.
Denki
for helpin’ us.”
Millie led her grandmother out of the kitchen as quickly as the older woman could walk. While in many ways Mammi was stronger than she had been, spending most of the last few years in bed had weakened her muscles. Millie was glad her clothes were downstairs in the small room Mammi had been using during her extended illness. After they folded her dresses and underthings into a suitcase, Millie urged her to rest while she packed her own belongings.
Mammi’s lips twitched. “After I sit for a minute, I’ll pick our dresses and what-not out of the clothes hamper. We can wash them tomorrow at Nora’s.”
Millie had been so wound up from dealing with Dawdi, she hadn’t realized why Mammi had had so few dresses to pack. She pulled an old gray duffel from the closet. “Stuff the laundry in this. Dawdi’ll rant about us takin’ our dirty clothes but not his.”
As she hurried upstairs to her room, Millie wondered if her mother had experienced this same sense of desperation when she’d been sent to live with Mammi’s sister. This conflict and confrontation was tying her stomach in knots. Millie packed fast, praying her grandfather gave them no further trouble as they left—hoping Ira wasn’t bearing the brunt of Dawdi’s foul mood.
Denki, Lord, for providin’ us a place to stay, and for Nora’s determination to love Dawdi even when he’s mean to her. Help me to be a
gut
daughter. Strong like my mother.
Millie carried her two suitcases to the waiting rig while Ira ushered Mammi outside, carrying her careworn suitcase and the duffel. It felt odd to ride away from the old farmhouse as though she intended to be gone for a long time. She worried that her grandfather would get sick or hurt himself—perhaps intentionally—to get back at her and Mammi for leaving him.
Millie hated thinking such thoughts about her grandfather. He wasn’t the same steadfast man she’d known when she was younger. It seemed his hatred and bitterness had crippled his heart as surely as arthritis had bent his body.
When they got to the big house on Bishop’s Ridge Road, Nora held the door so Millie and Ira could carry in the luggage. “Let’s put you in this room off the kitchen, Mamma,” she said, pointing them in the right direction. “And Millie, I’ve got a spare room upstairs between my bedroom and my studio. You’ll have a view of the river, and you can make it your own space. I’m so glad you’re both here!”
Nora’s enthusiasm lifted Millie’s spirits. It was fun to be staying in this large, airy home filled with her mother’s bright colors. When she and Ira got to the upstairs room Nora had described, Millie went to the window. If she looked to the far right, she could see the mill wheel. The rest of her view was filled with wildflowers, trees, and the ripple of the flowing, sun-dappled river.
“I think I’ll be just fine here,” Millie murmured.
Ira came to stand beside her. “Your
mamm
’ll see to that,” he replied. Then he gently turned her to face him. “About my joinin’ the Old Order . . . I, um,
meant
it when I said I’d wait for ya, Millie. You’re awfully young to commit to the church or to me. I don’t want to deprive ya of your
rumspringa
—especially now that you’re dealin’ with your
dawdi
.”
Millie’s heartbeat quickened. He was hinting about marriage someday, without expecting her to reply. “That’s sweet of ya, Ira. I’ll have time these next several weeks to think things through. But I’m glad ya decided about your faith,” she added. “Glad ya went your own way instead of followin’ Luke’s example just because he’s your brother and your business partner.”
Ira lowered his mouth to hers for a tender kiss. “We’ll be fine, Luke and I. Nothin’ll change, far as how the mill’s to be run—and if he goes the Mennonite route, it’ll be easier to keep some of the power equipment we’ve set up.”
Millie nodded. “It’ll all work out,” she mused aloud. “And I have a feelin’ that
work
is what’ll get Mammi and me through Dawdi’s shunning. After that, we’ll see what God’s got waitin’ for us. Thanks for helpin’ me through today, Ira.”
He kissed her again and then smiled. Even with the ridge around his head where his hat had flattened his hair on this warm day, Ira looked very strong. Very masculine and attractive. “You’re welcome, Millie. I’ll see ya soon, all right?”