The Decision (27 page)

“What about her?”

“She says she doesn’t love me and that what she felt for me before was just infatuation.” Jonah paused and moistened his parched lips with the tip of his tongue. “Do you think that’s true, Priscilla, or did Elaine only say that so I’d quit coming around?”

Priscilla’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Well, I can’t speak for Elaine, and it’s really not my place to give my opinion.”

“But you have an opinion, right?” he prompted.

She lifted her shoulders in a brief shrug but continued to stare at the floor.

Jonah took a step closer to Priscilla. “Please tell me what you think. Does Elaine love me or not?”

P
riscilla, did you hear what I asked?”

“Jah, Jonah, I heard,” Priscilla murmured, refusing to look into Jonah’s eyes.

“Does Elaine love me or not?”

Perspiration beaded on Priscilla’s forehead, and not just from the heat. She didn’t like being put on the spot, but Jonah was expecting an answer. It made her feel like a go-between, and the truth was, she couldn’t be sure how Elaine really felt about Jonah.

“I think that question should be answered by Elaine,” Priscilla said, forcing herself to look at Jonah again.

A muscle on the side of his neck twitched. “She already has, but now I’m asking you.”

“I’ve always thought Elaine loved you, but maybe I was wrong. No one but Elaine really knows how she feels.”

“Would you ask her how she feels about me? And also find out if I’ve said or done something to cause her to pull away?”

Priscilla clutched the folds of her apron, feeling like a helpless fly trapped in a spider’s web.

“Please, Priscilla. I really need to know.”

Jonah’s pleading tone and his look of desperation made Priscilla reconsider. “Okay, I’ll speak to Elaine.”

Jonah’s face relaxed a bit. “Danki, Priscilla. I’m grateful.” He motioned to the door with his head. “Guess I’d better take a look at that buggy wheel now.”

As Edna moved around her kitchen, preparing food for tonight’s tourist dinner, she couldn’t stop thinking about the book she’d found earlier today, tucked inside one of the drawers inside the desk in their kitchen. Elaine had been reading that book yesterday while she sat on the porch, waiting for her friends. It was about the various types and symptoms of dementia. What a rude awakening it had been for Edna when she read a few pages of information about the different stages of the disease and what could be expected in the months ahead. From the little she’d read, dementia was incurable, and there wasn’t much that could be done to stop the loss of her memory. Oh, there were some medicines she could try, but they all had side effects and offered no promise of a cure.
Well, I won’t be taking any of those
, she determined.

Edna had slammed the book shut, unwilling to accept her plight and praying that none of the things she’d read about would happen to her.

Maybe it was an old book and by now there are new treatments
, she consoled herself. But even as the thought flitted through her mind, Edna knew her future looked bleak.
Wish it was me who’d died instead of Lloyd. At least he had a healthy mind and would have been here for Elaine
.

While Edna stirred the filling for her special sour-cream peach pie, she continued to fret. She wasn’t about to forget her dear husband or any of the wonderful memories they’d made together. How could she forget about raising their son, Milton, and the joy of seeing him and his wife get married and later become happy new parents? And what about Elaine? There was no way Edna would let some disease keep her from remembering who her granddaughter was. Elaine had brought new meaning to her and Lloyd’s existence after the tragic accident that took their son and his wife. Surely those were memories that would never slip away.

Edna placed the crust into the pie pan, added the peach filling, and placed it into the oven. Leaning against the counter, she thought about the last time she’d talked with her older sister, Margaret. How long had it been since she’d seen Margaret or their younger brothers, Irvin and Caleb? As Edna recalled, it had been a few years, but that was because they lived in some other state. Her brothers had farms to tend, and even though Edna’s sister still taught sewing classes, she was in her eighties and didn’t travel much anymore. All these things made it difficult to visit, but they’d managed to keep in touch through letters and phone calls.

Maybe I should call and tell them about this terrible disease. No, I’m going to wait. What if it’s all a mistake?

Edna hadn’t told Elaine that she’d seen the book on dementia, and she thought it might be better not to mention it. Elaine had probably checked the book out from the library, looking for information that might enlighten her as to what to expect if Edna’s memory loss worsened.

If it’s true, then I wish there was something I could do to spare my granddaughter this experience
, Edna thought with regret.
It’s not fair to expect Elaine to take care of me and put her own life on hold. Like other young women her age, she should be allowed the freedom of getting married and raising a family, instead of caring for an old woman who will one day not even know who she is
.

With conflicting thoughts swirling through her head, Edna left the kitchen and went out the back door. She wandered around the yard for a while, until she became bored.

Returning to the kitchen, she stared vacantly out the window, barely noticing the birds flitting back and forth to their feeders.
Maybe the doctor who told Elaine I have dementia was mistaken. The tests could have been wrong. Oh, I just need to stop worrying about this
.

“How’s it going in here?” Elaine asked, stepping into the kitchen from the dining room, where she’d gone to set the tables for their dinner guests.

Edna watched as Elaine glanced around the room, sniffing the air. “It smells like something is burning.”

Edna turned and looked at the stove, suddenly remembering her pie. When she opened the oven door and smoke poured out, she gasped. “Ach, my peach pie is burned. It’s burned to a crisp!”

“Burned. Burned,” Millie screeched from her cage across the room.

Elaine grabbed a pot holder and quickly removed the pie, placing it on a cooling rack. Then she opened the kitchen window to let out the smoke.

Edna stood nearby, slowly shaking her head. “I’m sorry about this. Guess I got preoccupied and forgot to set the timer.”

“It’s all right, Grandma.” Elaine slipped her arm around Edna’s waist. “I’ll put another pie together, and it should be done in plenty of time. Remember, we also have two coconut cream pies to serve to our guests this evening, and there will only be twenty people this time.”

Edna’s throat constricted. Forgetting to check on her pie was just one more reminder of how forgetful she’d become. All these years, cooking and baking had been second nature to her. She’d made countless meals without giving it much thought. Ruining the peach pie might be a small thing, but it made her wonder with dread what else she might forget. Next time she baked a pie, she’d be sure to set the timer and stay right here in the kitchen until it was done.

Elaine felt bad as she watched Grandma staring at the burned pie.
Will something like this be a regular occurrence? How much longer will we be able to keep doing dinners for tourists? If we have to give it up, then I’ll need to think of something else Grandma can do so she won’t become bored. And of course, I’ll have to look for some other way to make extra money—something I can do from home
.

A knock sounded on the back door, halting Elaine’s musings. “I’ll get it,” she said, but Grandma gave no reply, just moved away from the pie and walked over to Millie’s cage.

When Elaine opened the door, she found Priscilla on the porch. “How’s your grandma?” Priscilla whispered. “Is she still upset about what my mamm blurted out yesterday?”

Elaine stepped onto the porch and shut the door. “Grandma took it hard, and I still feel guilty for not telling her myself, but she seems to have forgiven me.”

“Mom feels badly about it, too.” Priscilla motioned to the chairs. “Do you have time to sit awhile? I’d like to ask you something.”

Elaine glanced toward the house, massaging her throat. “I can sit a few minutes, but I need to get back inside soon and bake a pie because we’re hosting another dinner tonight.” She decided not to mention the pie Grandma had burned. After all, most people had burned something in their kitchen at one time or another.

“How come you’re rubbing your throat? Does it hurt?” Priscilla asked, taking a seat.

“A little, but it was worse when I first woke up. I think it may be from yesterday, when I sat under that air-conditioning vent at the restaurant.” Elaine took the chair next to Priscilla.

“I felt a little chilled from the AC as well, but at least I didn’t wake up with a sore throat.” Priscilla paused, crossing her leg and bouncing it up and down. “Um…I saw Jonah earlier today.”

“Oh?”

“I stopped by his buggy shop so he could take a look at my wobbly buggy wheel.”

“Is everything okay?”

“It is now, since he fixed it.” Another pause. Leaning closer to Elaine, Priscilla said, “Jonah wanted me to ask you a question.”

“What’s that?”

“He said you told him that you’re not in love with him, and he wants to know if it’s true or not.”

Elaine squeezed her hands tightly together in her lap. “So he sent you here to ask me?”

“Jah. Is it true?”

Elaine bit the side of her cheek. She’d lied to Jonah; did she dare lie to Priscilla, too?

Priscilla touched Elaine’s arm. “You’ve told me before that you care for Jonah, and I thought you were looking forward to him asking you to be his wife. Have you changed your mind about that?”

“I do care about Jonah,” Elaine murmured, “but not in the way I once did. When you speak to Jonah again, would you please tell him that?”

“Are you sure? I mean—”

“I’m very sure. This is the way it’s meant to be, Priscilla.” Elaine rose from her seat. “I appreciate you stopping by, but I need to get back inside now. I’ll see you at church on Sunday.” She turned and slipped into the house, feeling even guiltier for lying to Priscilla, while trying to convince herself that breaking up with Jonah had really been the best thing to do.

After Jean left with her children, Sara, feeling somewhat better, decided to see Leah for a reflexology treatment. She’d tried calling first but had gotten Leah’s voice mail. If Leah was at home today, Sara hoped she wouldn’t be too busy to see her.

As Sara headed to Leah’s with her horse and buggy, she began to feel a bit woozy again. Perspiration beaded on her forehead and dripped onto her face. Reaching for the bottle of water she’d placed on the seat between her and Mark, she took a drink and offered him one as well.

By the time Sara arrived at her destination, she felt even worse, and the heat of the day had become almost unbearable. After taking another drink of water, Sara secured her horse and took Mark out of the buggy. When she knocked on the door, Leah’s mother, Dianna, greeted her on the porch.

“Is Leah here?” Sara asked. “I was hoping to get a foot treatment today.”