Chapter Ten
Paul's
mamm
walked with a shuffle and a hunched back, as if she were tired of her life. Lily had always felt a little sorry for her. Aunt B said Martha Glick was depressed. The Amish didn't usually talk about such things, but Aunt B had lived amongst the
Englisch
for twenty years. She knew enough to be concerned.
“Are you sure you wouldn't like another cup of
kaffee,
Lily?” Martha asked, holding up the pot.
“
Nae. Denki
just the same,” Lily said. Refills of
kaffee
were free at the restaurant, but Lily had already had three cups. Any more and she'd be swimming out the door.
Paul sat next to her, mopping up the last of his gravy with half a biscuit. “The gravy is extra-
gute
today, Mamm.”
His
mamm
flashed a rare smile. “I'm glad. Pork and beef drippings.”
Paul picked up Lily's unused spoon and scooped up a generous spoonful of gravy from his plate. “Here, Lily. Try the gravy.”
He spooned it into her mouth as if he were feeding a baby. Lily savored the creamy, salty taste. Her stomach growled. Biscuits and gravy would have been so good for supper.
She looked down at her pathetic half-eaten piece of shoofly pie. Day-old pastries were usually half price, but Paul had talked his
mamm
into giving Lily a slice for free. It would have been thrown away otherwise. Too bad she hated shoofly pie.
Paul's
dat
, Raymond, marched into the small restaurant with his thumbs hooked around his suspenders. Raymond Glick was short and slight with not a speck of gray in his long beard. His eyes were like Paul's, dark and wide-set, and he had a little paunch that hung out over the waistband of his trousers. Paul probably weighed fifty pounds more than his
dat
.
Without even acknowledging Lily or Paul, Raymond handed Martha a slip of paper. “Northern Adventures Tours called. They're bringing in a busload for dinner.”
Martha jumped as if she'd been poked with a pin. “
Ach du lieva
. I better get to roasting some chickens.”
“I already sent Perry to fetch the Zimmerman girls for extra help.”
“
Denki,
Raymond,” Martha said as she hurried to the kitchen.
Raymond watched after her. “And you know better than to let Mattie Zimmerman bake the rolls.”
“
Jah,
Raymond. I'll be sure to do it myself.”
Lily had always been a little uncomfortable with the way Paul's
dat
treated his
mamm,
like a piece of furniture, as if she were invisible unless he wanted her for something. It seemed Paul's parents rarely spoke unless Paul's
dat
was giving Martha orders or criticizing the way she did something.
Lily had tried once to talk to Paul about his
mamm
, but Paul had become defensive, so she kept her concerns to herself. She hadn't even shared her apprehension with Aunt Bitsy. In one breath her
aendi
would tell the girls that no one was good enough for them and then warn them to watch how a boy's
fater
treated his m
ater
. She said it was a pretty good sign how the son would treat his own wife. “The apple doesn't fall far from the tree,” she'd say, then look up into heaven and ask the Lord to bring her girls someone like Donny Osmond.
Having lived amongst the
Englischers
for so long, Aunt B was wise in the ways of the world, but Lily just knew Paul would be different than his
fater
. Hadn't he been kind to her when no one else had been? Didn't he buy her honey as a favor to her family? Sometimes the apple fell from the tree, rolled down the hill, was snatched up by a bird, and dropped far afield. Paul's apple was in a whole different county than his
fater
's.
Paul's
fater
came to their table and stood over them like a good host. Lily squirmed under his observation. She hadn't worn her glasses today. “How were the biscuits?”
“Wonderful-
gute,”
Paul said. “And I could have eaten a bowl of gravy.”
Raymond nodded. “Lord willing, it will keep the customers coming in.” He glanced at Lily. “Lily, we are always glad to see you in our restaurant. Did Paul tell you we are getting a new freezer?”
“
Jah
. I'm sure you need the extra space.” The freezer was the reason they couldn't pay more for Lily's honey. She nibbled on her bottom lip. Should she ask for a better price?
It was the battle she had in her head continuously. Care of the family finances was her job, but Aunt B would have been able to manage things so much better. Probably
anybody
else would have been able to manage the finances better. She wasn't as good at numbers as Paul and she felt too much of a sense of loyalty to question the price he paid her for honey.
Ach,
if only she didn't feel like such a
dumkoff
all the time.
But Aunt B trusted her. That had to count for something. She'd do her best.
Lily's accounts book sat open on the table. She and Paul had been discussing the prices for different sizes of honey jars. Raymond pointed to the figure she'd written on the paper. “You have small writing. How can you read it without your glasses?”
Lily pressed her lips together. “I have my contacts.”
Raymond's mouth barely hinted at a frown. “It's better with your glasses.”
“She doesn't wear the contacts often, Dat, but she can read better with them.”
Raymond nodded. “I see. When you marry, I suppose you won't need contacts. You'll not be doing as much reading when the babies come.”
Lily stiffened in her chair. Raymond thought reading was a worldly waste of time. She couldn't agree with him. Even whenâor ifâhe became her father-in-law, they would never see eye to eye about it. She'd be doing plenty of reading before and after the babies came.
Unless . . .
What would Paul want? It would be wicked to go against her husband if he was dead set against her reading.
That thought troubled her more than she cared to admit. As a wife she must submit to her husband. Paul was so much smarter than she was and more capable of making the right decision. She'd defer to him, of course. But could she give up reading simply because Paul frowned upon it?
Surely he wouldn't make her give up her books. He didn't see reading as a frivolous pursuit like his
fater
did. One time she'd told him the story of
Summer of the Monkeys,
and he seemed truly eager to know if Jay Berry Lee had bought the horse or used the money to pay for his sister's surgery.
She wouldn't dare disagree with Raymond. “Lord willing, I will always meet with
Gotte
's approval.”
Raymond bestowed a smile on her. “You have turned out quite well, Lily. I worried when Paul told me you two had become friends. I knew your aunt Elizabeth as a teenager. She was a wild one. But I should have trusted
Gotte
. You Christner girls have come out okay in spite of it.”
Lily sat like stone and listened to Raymond spout his insulting compliments. An invisible weight pressed against her chest and made it impossible to breathe. She was fully aware of what people said about her auntâthat she was an outcast, a fence-jumper who'd only returned to Bienenstock because she wanted money from the church to help raise her nieces. But Aunt B hadn't ever taken one penny from the church. They'd managed just fine on their own.
“
Denki
,” Lily sputtered, because she truly didn't know what else to say. Did the whole community believe Paul was too good for her? Paul was from one of the most prominent families in the community. Not only were they rich by Amish standards, but his
dat
was a minister and Paul's oldest brother had been ordained bishop in one of the districts in Cashton. Lily was a homely, awkward girl who would rather read a book than quilt or sew or can green beans. She wasn't ashamed of her family, but she was fully aware that the community whispered about Aunt B behind her back. What kind of
gute
Amish boy would even consider Lily for a wife?
Paul would.
He didn't care about her appearance, and he seemed perfectly willing to marry Lily even though she had too many faults to count.
Paul's
dat
tapped on the table with his knuckle. “I must make sure they're making plenty of rolls. Martha doesn't make enough and then we're left with unhappy customers.”
He tromped quickly into the kitchen as if there were a fire that needed extinguishing. Lily sat quietly, the lump in her throat making it impossible to speak.
Paul narrowed his eyes, obviously sensing something was wrong. She tried to fake a serene expression, as if her face were water on the lake undisturbed by even the slightest of breezes.
She didn't fool him. “Quit worrying, Lily. My
dat
likes you just fine, even when you don't wear your glasses. He thinks it's wonderful-
gute
that you have been able to overcome your upbringing.”
“But, Paul, you don't feel that way about Aunt Bitsy, do you?”
Paul studied her face, raised his brows, and cleared his throat. “Me?” he sputtered. “Me?” He took a swig of milk. “
Nae, nae
. Your aunt Bitsy is a very
gute
person.”
She had the distinct and disloyal feeling that Paul wasn't telling her the whole truth. “Aunt Bitsy gave up everything to raise us. She taught us how to work and nurtured our faith in
Gotte
. She came back to the church for us.” Lily couldn't help the bitterness that tinged her voice. “Isn't that enough for you?”
Paul stuck out his bottom lip slightly when he frowned. “Of all the stuff, Lily. I said she's a
gute
person. You don't have to bite my head off. Even you have to admit that your
aendi
isn't exactly the most pious church member. She talks to
Gotte
out loud. If that doesn't smack of pride, I don't know what does. There's rumors that she wears fancy earrings in her sleep. And her hair is blue.”
When Paul talked about Aunt Bitsy like that, Lily usually swallowed her indignation and changed the subject. Paul didn't like confrontation. It made him unhappy. He was never one to pick a fight.
Another reason she didn't deserve him.
Maybe she was hungry or worried about the family finances or fed up with Raymond Glick's harsh judgments, but for Aunt B's sake, she dared to scold him. “I won't listen to talk like that, Paul, not from someone who is supposed to be my friend.” And future husband.
His nostrils flared in surprise, and he set his fork down even though he hadn't finished eating. “Of all the stuff, Lily. I'm just telling the truth. You know how I despise pride.”
She should have let it drop, smooth things over so Paul wouldn't realize how upset she was. But,
ach du lieva,
even Dan Kanagy, mean Dan Kanagy, liked Aunt B's light blue hair. She slammed her accounts book shut. “Pride? Who is the one at this table who thinks they're better than Aunt B?
Thou shalt not judge
.”
A headache throbbed at the base of her skull. She really shouldn't accuse him of pride. When the dust settled, she'd be apologizing to him for days.
To her surprise, the sullen expression on his face shifted. He must have realized he'd crossed some sort of line. He tried to backpedal, but he didn't do it very well, probably because she'd never seen him backpedal in his life. “Okay, okay. I didn't mean it. Your aunt can color her hair purple for all I care. You don't have to get in such a tizzy about it. Of all the stuff!”
Lily stood up, unsatisfied with Paul's weak apology and her own behavior.
Blessed are the meek.
How could she have forgotten herself like that? She should probably apologize right now and get it over with, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Let Paul gloat over her some other day.
She turned on her heel and marched to the door. To her utter amazement, Paul chased after her. He must have seen how serious she was or he never would have left a perfectly good bite of biscuit and a pool of gravy on his plate. “Lily, okay, Lily. You shouldn't be angry. It's a sin.”
She stopped before she opened the door and slumped her shoulders. He was right. How could she leave like a pouty child who hadn't gotten her way? They should be able to talk things over like two people in love were supposed to talk. “I'm sorry. I should hold my temper.”
“
Jah,
you should.”
“But I wish you wouldn't speak badly of my aunt.”
“I forgive you, and I hope you'll forgive me for upsetting you.” He patted her cheek. “You see. I'm humble enough to admit I upset you.”
“
Denki
.”
He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I always want to speak the truth between us, Lily, but I suppose some things are better left unsaid.”
“I suppose they are.”
He opened the door for her, and they walked outside.
“I won't see you Sunday at
gmay,
” he said. “My
fater
is preaching in another district, and we are going with him.”
“Okay,” she said, not really listening. She just wanted to go home and repent. Maybe write Paul a long and earnest letter of apology. Sometimes she wished she could start a day over again.