Love's Abundant Harvest (16 page)

“
Jah
. I guess I did. Your
mammi
calls you that.”

“She knows it will get my attention.”

“It worked for me.” He studied her for a moment. “Are you ready to go or is there
something else you need to do?”

“
Nee
, I should get back and start preparations for tomorrow.”

“Okay, then, let me help you.” He assisted her into the buggy, and they started for
home.

She didn't even want to think about it yet—all the work to get ready, and people
coming in and out all day long as she stood and accepted condolences for a man she
was glad to put to rest. What a horrible person she was, and an even worse wife.
She must be, for the Lord to give her such a horrible man as a husband. But she had
paid her penance now, put up with the words, so many harsh things said. Lucy wondered
whether she would ever rid herself of Sam's voice.

“Hey there. I'm losing you again.” Manny's soft voice was barely audible, but enough
to bring her back into the moment. “Are you all right?”

“
Nee
, I'm tired. So very tired.” She sighed and wished she could sprawl out and rest.
The baby felt so tight in her belly, she wondered whether it would be sooner than
the midwife had told her. Everything seemed like more of an effort.

“Lucy, get comfortable on the bench seat. “You're exhausted. I can see it in your
eyes. Understandably, you've had a stressful day.” He looked down at her belly. “And
you're working twice as hard.” He smiled.

“She does take a lot out of me these days. Seems she's growing faster than ever.”
Sometimes, Lucy wondered whether there were two little ones in there. Not having
an ultrasound or regular checkups meant anything could be
going on, and she wouldn't
know until she delivered. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the side
of the buggy, letting the sound of the horse's hooves hitting the street lull her
into a restless sleep.

T
he next morning the crunch of wagon wheels over the pebbled dirt made Lucy open
her eyes. Deep in prayer, she'd been unaware of her surroundings. She needed to confess,
ask countless questions, and plead for direction. But honestly it was strength she
needed more than anything—strength for the baby and for her own health—to make it
through this day.

She walked downstairs and watched Manny and Caleb unload the six-sided coffin and
then the “rough coffin,” the outer wooden structure that the coffin was lowered into
before the whole thing went into the open grave.

“
Danke
.” She motioned with one hand toward the funeral director. His reply was only
a nod, which Lucy appreciated, as she didn't have the energy to say a single word
more.

Manny eyed her as they took the wooden box into the great room of Frieda's
haus
.
She had taken full advantage of her
mammi
's
haus,
for which she would always be
grateful. Going through these events without
Mammi
would have been unimaginable.
Lucy felt sure she would go back to where her extended family lived at some point,
but after all she'd been through, this felt more and more like her own
haus
.

The men arranged the coffin, carefully setting it on a wooden stand. Lucy took slow
steps until she stood within
touching distance. Sam's pasty, gaunt face was as white
as the simple undergarments he was wearing.

Caleb shifted his eyes. “Do you want these doors open or closed? Visitors will be
coming by after seeing the wagon with the coffin.”

Lucy looked up and shrugged. “That's fine. But what I really need is for you to pray
for this day and the funeral tomorrow to be over and done.” She paused. “I know that
sounds terrible, but I can't ask you to pray for something that's not in my heart.”
She tried to smile.

Caleb didn't say a word to her; he just nodded and closed his eyes to pray. His words
were as kind and thoughtful as she'd expected them to be, and her soul felt a little
lighter.

“
Danke
. It helps to have the words to take me through the day.” She twined her fingers
with Manny's. Proper or not, she needed to feel the warmth of his hand before the
first of the mourners came. She imagined those in the community would come in and
out all evening.

A moment later Lucy pulled away and glanced at the two wooden pieces on hinges that
folded down to reveal the body from the chest up. Sam's eyes were shut, but she could
picture the coldness in them. How selfishly glad she was not to see the coldness
in those piercing eyes anymore.

She was ashamed of these conflicting thoughts, but only for a moment. Sam had made
her feel worthless, no matter what she thought or did. His power over her had died
with him. She resolved to be stronger and not let anyone tell her what kind of person
she was or what her worth was.

Manny came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe this is enough for
now.”

She felt his hot breath against her cheek, and her nerve
grew a little stronger.
She nodded. “Can you shut those?” She pointed to the two pieces of wood, not wanting
to be face-to-face with Sam ever again.

Manny obliged and then led her out the door. “Let the others do everything today.
You know they want to, and it's easier on you if they take some of the burden.”

She
smiled, and he frowned.

“I didn't expect to see a smile from you today. Am I that interesting?” A smile flickered
on his lips and then disappeared as if he didn't feel it was appropriate.

Most others would be consoling her for a life event she had secretly been hoping
for. She'd been a hypocrite long enough. It was time to admit the truth to someone,
and who better than Manny? He knew some of it already, but probably didn't know what
to do with the awkward situation. Now that Lucy thought about it, neither did she.

“Do you think I'm awful for not mourning as I should?” There, she'd said it. But
she didn't feel any better. Her confession put a damper on his effort to lighten
the conversation. But she knew well enough that he would understand. He always seemed
to.

“There is a time and place for everything, even in your case. It's not honest to
pretend something you're not, but not everyone understands what you've been through—especially
those from other communities.” The twinkle in his blue eye warned her to watch her
actions and words. No matter how much had happened to get her to this place, she
needed to remember that counsel, today of all days.

“I understand, and
danke
for telling me. I've had a difficult time working through
my emotions anyway, but now, with the way everything happened, sometimes I feel
responsible.”
She was saying too much and probably not making any sense, but she had to get it
off her chest. She guessed she was telling him because he was safe, not part of anything
that happened, oblivious to what her life had really been like.

But when she looked up and into his eyes, she rose to attention. His jaw tightened,
and his face was intense. “Don't ever say that, Lucy. Nothing was your fault.” He
took her hand, which caught her attention. “If anything,
he
should have gotten you
and his baby out of danger's way, not tried to save his precious farm.” He squeezed
his eyes shut. “Sorry, I get angry when I think of how things could have gone.”

“Manny, you ready?” Caleb gave them both a serious stare. Lucy knew they shouldn't
be so close, whispering, with him holding her hand. But it was innocent. Caleb would
know that.

As Manny and Caleb left, Rosy walked into the room and glanced at the coffin. She
asked, “Does Sam's family know about his death? Do you think anyone will come?”

“He never spoke much of his family. I haven't heard word from anyone.” Lucy wouldn't
know what to do with Sam's family, people she'd never met. Certainly she wouldn't
recognize them if she saw them.

Frieda walked in with a determined look on her face with the
Budget
newspaper in
hand. “They were up north, but not that far. I had heard Sam's first wife speak about
how she only saw them one time at a wedding and never again.”

Rosy took the newspaper and started reading the latest news from all over the country.
Word had gotten around over the past few days, and the
Budget
was a sure way to
share
news of any kind, especially about a death. “Well, I see the announcement, but if
they have read it, they haven't made contact that we know of,
jah
?”

“I doubt they would. Unfriendly people, or maybe they were just not happy with Sam
for some reason.” Frieda turned to Lucy. “You never heard a word about them, eh?”

“
Nee
, I asked only once, and he gave me a look I never forgot. From then on neither
of us talked about his family.” The more she opened up about these things, the more she realized how bad it truly
was. She had gotten used to it, brainwashed, maybe, into believing this life was
what she deserved.

“Well, I guess we wait and see what happens tonight and tomorrow. They might show
up.” Rosy's positive attitude was a good balance with Frieda's negative one, and
Lucy was somewhere in the middle. She couldn't imagine not going to a sibling's funeral,
but then this was Sam. Nothing surprised her when it came to him.

Lucy went to bed early, exhausted yet again. By the time she woke up next morning
the
haus
was buzzing with commotion. Lucy quickly dressed and prepared herself mentally
for the day. It was a strange experience to go to a funeral for someone she disliked.
And what was worse, that person was her husband.

A knock on her door vaulted her into the moment.

Her
mamm
stood at her door attired in black from head to toe. “Are you ready?” She
took a step back. “You look fine. Grab your shawl. You never know if you might get
a chill sometime during the day. Unpredictable weather . . . ”

She went on, but Lucy's
thoughts were elsewhere. Few had come to view the body. Only the deacon, minister,
and bishop came, along with a couple who offered their
condolences. It made her realize
how isolated she and Sam were, and she was saddened at the time she'd lost. As she
walked through the great room with Verna, she saw a sprinkle of people there with
others still coming in.

“This is what community is about,”
Mamm
told Nellie, who had a dull look on her face.
Due to the day's meaning, their community was faithful to one another.

“
Jah
, there have been a few others. I'm glad to see that, no matter what the circumstances.”

Nellie was right—there was no denying it—but it was an awkward situation for her
any way you looked at it. Lucy didn't know these people like she should. A visit
to church once a week with little conversation wasn't what it should have been, but
Sam was set on doing his own farming and attending church like a revolving door.
But this was how it was supposed to be. This was what she'd been missing.

Benches were set up in rows that filled Frieda's large home for visitors after the
funeral. Minister Eben followed the bishop, with the deacons behind them. “My condolences”
and “I'm sorry” were repeated over and over again. Lucy was glad to have her
mamm
by her side accepting support from many people Lucy didn't know. They most definitely didn't know her, simply because she hadn't been allowed to reach
out to them, to join any quilting bees or do anything with the other women in the
community.

After the last amen, the mourners filed out. The buggies were filled and following
one after another. When they arrived, each was marked with chalk, and the coffin
was placed in the hearse.

Her
mamm
walked up and stood beside. “By the way,
Manny and Caleb took care of dressing
Sam. I thought you'd want to know.”

Lucy lost her breath for a moment. “
Danke
. I'd forgotten. How sad there is no family
for Sam.” She dropped her hands on her lap, actually feeling a bit of remorse for
the man.

Her
mamm
looked out the window without batting an eye. “I'd say I'm sorry, but that
would be an untruth, so I won't. We reap what we sow.”

As they made their way behind the horse-drawn carriage, Lucy felt the solemn, impressive
weight of buggies following them. She was touched that these people had helped after
the explosion and now were showing their presence during this humbling time in her
life. She wondered how much influence her
mamm
and
mammi
had in it, but it didn't
matter. Her heart fairly burst with gratitude as her body warmed with the thought.