Keeping Secrets (36 page)

“But…” Sadie began to protest, then closed her mouth, wincing as Mark slammed the door on his way out.

Feeling more alone than she ever had, she walked over to the bed and gently pulled the sheet up over Meely’s still body.

Mark’s mother. May God rest her soul.

Sadie had loved her sincerely. She had.

The following days were a blur of activity. Tom knew what to do and helped with the funeral arrangements. Samuel and Levi worked the computer, desperately trying to find Mark’s missing siblings, coming up with nothing. Malinda cooked up a storm, delivering great casserole dishes of southern cooking, huge coconut cakes with slivers of pecans all over the top.

Neighboring farm wives came. These well-meaning women dressed in clean cotton frocks brought Pyrex dishes of homemade scalloped potatoes, lasagna, burritos, fried chicken, and green-bean casserole. The quantity of food was endless.

The kindness of ordinary people is a wondrous thing, Sadie thought. She wished Meely could see how these simple country folk turned out in droves to deliver their condolences in the form of warm food.

Tom’s great laugh rang out while he and Mark sampled all the food. He spent a great deal of time with Mark, beginning that first evening after Meely’s death. They spent hours outside under the trees, Mark sitting in the hammock, Tom on a rusted bench.

Sadie wondered if Mark would ever tell her what they talked about.

The viewing at the local funeral home was pitifully small. There was no long line of friends and acquaintances waiting to sign their names at the entrance. There were only a few people from the Hospice service, the man who brought salt for the water softener, and the fuel-truck driver. Mark was the only family.

Meely was still lovely, laid in a bed of white satin. Great banks of flowers surrounded the coffin, as she had wanted.

A soft, early, summer rain fell on the heads of the small group of mourners at the burial. A few well-wishers from Tom’s congregation shook their heads at the sadness of it all. Their faces were a haven of kindness for Mark and Sadie now.

Tom spoke a eulogy of love. He read the Twenty-Third Psalm, called Meely “sister,” and led the group in a hopeful hymn. Mark and Sadie bowed their heads and cried tears of cleansing. The past was partially settled, or at least as much as it could be in a matter of a few days.

They went back to the house, where Malinda served up a banquet of delicious food, urging everyone to take heaping servings of everything.

“Y’all tried this here chicken? Y’ need more Coke?”

Mark ate hungrily. He smiled at Sadie, who sat across from him at the dining room table.

“You look amazing in your black dress,” he whispered, sending her pulse racing.

They finally made arrangements to return home. They said many tearful farewells to Tom and his family, who promised to visit. Then they climbed into the Amtrak train, that speeding wonder that would deliver Sadie once again to her family. Her heart pumped with excitement.

Going home!

Mark watched Sadie’s face before commenting on it.

“Your eyes are just shining, Sadie.”

“Yes, Mark, I am so happy to return home. It seems like a long time since I’ve seen everyone.”

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky.”

That was all he said before turning his face away.

Oh, boy, she thought. Here we go again.

Anger bubbled out of a seething cauldron of hurt. A part of her wanted to sit up and actually hit him, yelling, “
Bupp! Grosse Bupp!
”

Would he always hold up that daunting shield of his past? Would he always make excuses and ask for pity? Or when he was jealous, would he take the role of a martyr?

Then Sadie sighed and fluctuated between self-blame and anger.

I know I’m lucky. I have a wonderful family. Maybe I shouldn’t show how happy I am. It’s my fault.

The steady rhythm of the train put her to sleep. It must have been a deep sleep, because she didn’t remember letting her head fall on Mark’s chest. She awoke completely confused, with Mark’s arm around her securely.

He was in a jovial mood. He teased her and bantered incessantly about their wedding. He acted as if he had never been unkind, never left her out of his thoughts.

Complicated person, for sure, was her only rational thought.

Arriving home was everything Sadie knew it would be. There were hugs and tears of welcome. Reuben hovered self-consciously in the background, wearing a brand-new shirt for the occasion. Sadie squealed and ran after him, giving him a very warm hug. He shrugged it off, but his wide grin gave away his true feelings.

Anna was alarmingly thin, just as Sadie suspected she would be. Her thin face made her eyes look abnormally large. All the loose fabric of her pretty teal-colored dress was tucked into her apron.

Sadie had to work hard to hide her fear, mentally shelving the talk she would have to have with Mam and Dat later.

It was Saturday, so no one had to go to work. Everyone piled into the kitchen and chatted over each other. There was so much to say.

Mam had prepared a wonderful brunch. There was a breakfast pizza, made with a homemade crust, fried potatoes, sausage, eggs, tomatoes, and cheese. There were golden biscuits and sausage gravy, fresh fruit, orange juice, homemade yogurt, and granola. The coffeepot was never empty for long, but no one had room for any of the doughnuts available in great variety.

Not even Reuben’s eyes were dry when Sadie spoke of Meely’s death. Dat marveled over the whole thing and said he never heard anything like it. What would the ministers say about something like that?

What about the Bible story of the woman at the well? Mam asked. Wasn’t that woman a sinner? Five husbands she had, and the man she was with that day was not her husband. Yet she recognized Jesus when those self-righteous scribes and Pharisees had no clue.

“Jesus offered much forgiveness and great love,” she concluded. Her nostrils flared a bit. She got up to refill her coffee. It wasn’t really necessary, but she was worked up by Dat questioning whether Meely was saved.

Mark listened closely. He had never heard Sadie’s mam talk like that.

Dat quickly agreed, patting his wife’s shoulder with a soft touch of contrition. Mam lifted her face to his, a soft smile spreading across her features. Dat returned it with one of his own.

That beautiful exchange was what came after 30 years of marriage, Sadie thought. Their own Goliath definitely had dwindled in size in the face of this long-practiced trust between them.

What a foundation! Surely it was worth more than gold. Surely she and Mark could make it, too.

After the long, drawn-out brunch, Mark followed Dat outside. Sadie knew he would tell Dat about their engagement. She decided to wait to tell Mam, anticipating the surprised expressions of her sisters and Reuben.

Her room was a welcoming haven. She had forgotten the tasteful simplicity of it, the calming white curtains and sand-colored comforter, the off-white walls, the candles and greenery blending so perfectly. She loved her room all over again.

She went to the bathroom to straighten her covering and check on the condition of her hair. She paused to sniff the familiar scent of Dove soap in the holder and to take in the border of seashells on the wall.

She raised her eyebrows when she saw the black plastic bottle of men’s body wash. Was it Reuben’s? Oh, my goodness.

Before long, Reuben would be going with the youth.
Rumspringa
. That was the time of “running around,” when youth first experience the world and are forced to make some of their own choices. Some would be good, others bad. And yet, he would still be within the Amish arc of friends and under the scrutiny of a close community where things of a disobedient nature traveled through the grapevine at the speed of lightning. He would still have to pay the consequences once his poor behavior reached Dat’s ears.

Anna was a far greater concern. Dat’s frightened smile told her everything.

Sadie pushed the problems aside. She would wait to talk to Dat after Mark announced their happy news.

Mam’s face actually turned a different shade and her eyes darkened, when Mark said they wanted to get married in September. She mentally calculated the months.

“June, July, August,” she breathed shakily.

“Congratulations!” all her sisters yelled, in their “Happy Birthday” voices.

“Who’s going to
huck nâva
?

“I will.”

“I want to!”

“I’m the oldest!”

Reuben said nothing at all but just kept eating doughnuts and washing them down with milk. Sadie watched him, then noticed him blinking his eyes and twitching the corners of his mouth into a downward tilt. It was the way he looked when he was not going to cry, no matter what.

For a moment, it erased Sadie’s joy as clearly as a wet rag erased words on the schoolhouse blackboard.

Would that special bond with Reuben disappear when she married?

“I want Reuben to
huck nâva
,” she said clearly.

He looked up, mid-chew, a slow smile starting in his eyes.

Nâva hucking
was a high honor. He was young, but easily tall enough to escort one of Mark’s family, whomever he chose, to the bridal table. He would even hold her hand.

“You want to?” Sadie asked.

“Of course,” Reuben answered, his chin tucked in to make his voice sound much more masculine then it actually was.

They decided on Leah, Sadie’s next oldest sister, to be the second attendant, along with Kevin, her steady boyfriend.

Mam was in a state of happy panic; it was honestly the only way to describe her. Dat was gruff and businesslike, but he snapped his suspenders too often and drank way too much coffee.

Mark offered to pay for the wedding, telling them about the inheritance from his mother.

There was so much to say, so much to plan, that they quickly grew tired. Dat flopped on the recliner and reached for the
Botschaft
. Mam frantically washed dishes, no doubt mentally counting all the relations on both sides of the family and calculating how much food it would take to feed them all two meals.

Sadie stole away, then, to greet Paris. She entered the barn eagerly, slipping into Paris’ stall, and flinging her arms around the horse’s neck, noticing the condition of her honey-colored coat, the well-rounded stomach, the muscles well developed in her deep chest.

“Oh, Paris, I missed you so much! How I wish I could take you for a ride. But I can’t yet. Dat said I can’t even leave you out in the pasture because of those evil men. Well, they’re not going to get you.”

She kept caressing the silky coat, murmuring her words of love, when she looked up to find Reuben hanging on the gate.

“Why do you have to go and get married?” he asked, his voice cracking in mid-sentence.

“Reuben, I know…” she broke off, her emotions catching her off-guard.

She gave Paris one last pat, letting the horse nuzzle the palm of her hand with that wiggling, velvety nose. Then she turned to Reuben, desperately willing herself to stay happy and lighthearted.

Why did this bother him so much?

Before she could speak, he wailed, “You’ll never ride with me again! You’ll have a whole bunch of babies the way everyone does, and you won’t ride at all.”

Sadie opened the gate and put her hands on his arms, looking squarely into his innocent eyes.

“Reuben. I will always ride Paris, married or not. And if I have babies, I guess Mark is just going to have to stay home and watch them so we can go riding together.”

Before he could respond, she pulled him into her arms and squeezed him tightly.

T
HERE WAS NO USE
trying to keep order the remainder of the summer. Dorothy and Erma were every bit as bad as Mam. Between the three of them planning the menu for the wedding, Sadie’s mind was full of at least 30 different dishes, none of them even close to what she really wanted.

Erma, of course, insisted on Dutch apple pie. When Sadie told her that Mark’s favorite was coconut cream, Erma wouldn’t speak to her for two weeks. This bit of news escalated Dorothy to a state of glee, saying she was an expert at cooking homemade, cream-pie filling. Then Mam said there was no way anyone was going to cook coconut pie filling except herself. Dorothy pouted for a week after that, saying no Amish cook could outdo the pies she always made for the fire hall.

Sadie ended up having a serious heart-to-heart talk with Mam about the importance of give-and-take. Why couldn’t Dorothy have the honor of making the pies? Especially if they decided to bread the chicken with Mam’s recipe rather than Dorothy’s?

The weather grew stifling hot. The heat rolled off the sun and pressed down on them with its force, like a steamroller made of hot air.

Sadie worked only three days a week at the ranch now because of all the work to do at home. She looked forward to the times she spent in the air-conditioning, though it did little to cool Dorothy’s and Erma’s hot tempers. Dorothy was always in a dither these days, with Erma wielding her red-haired power. Sadie flung back and forth between them like a tennis ball, until one day when she had less patience than usual.