Home to Paradise. Barbara Cameron
Anna told her.
“It’s tempting, but I need to stay to my goal of finishing this quilt,” she said as she threaded a needle.
“Could he be teething already?”
Lavina shuddered. “I hope not. He’s not three months old yet. I’ve heard about teething from my friends.”
Soon it was like it had been for so long, everyone chattering and sewing, the mood as bright and cheerful as the fire.
But Rose Anna felt a growing restlessness. She put her quilt aside, went downstairs to make tea for their break, and found herself staring out the kitchen window. The trees were bare and black against the gray sky. Snow had stopped falling, coating everything with a white blanket that lay undisturbed. She found herself pacing the kitchen as she waited for the kettle to boil.
Finally, she knew she had to get out and burn off her restless energy.
“I’m going for a walk,” she announced when her mudder and schweschders came downstairs. She pulled on rubber boots and her bonnet, then shrugged on her coat. “I won’t be long.”
“But, kind, it’s cold out there,” her mudder protested.
“I need to walk. ’Bye.”
“She’ll be fine, Mamm,” she heard Lavina say behind her before she closed the back door.
Funny, her older schweschder reassuring their mudder.
She started off down the road, watching for cars and staying well to the right. Smoke billowed from chimneys as she passed farms. Fields lay sleeping under the snow. The only sound was her boots crunching snow.
Usually she loved this time of year when life was slower, easier. All the planting, harvesting, canning was over. Farmers spent time in their barns repairing harnesses and equipment and planned their spring planting. Women occupied themselves with sewing and knitting and mending clothes. Kinner grew restive being cooped up and begged to go outside and build snowmen.
The Stoltzfus farm came into view. Lavina had married David, the oldest sohn, and lived there now. Mary Elizabeth had married Sam, the middle sohn. And she, the youngest Zook schweschder, had hoped to marry John, the youngest bruder.
John’s truck, a bright red pickup, was parked out front of David and Lavina’s farm. She wondered what he was doing home during a workday. Her feet slowed as she frowned and worried. Was his dat ill again? Surely Lavina would have said something. Amos had been cured of his cancer for quite some time now.
John came out of the farmhouse carrying a box of clothes and walked toward the truck, then he saw her. “Need a ride?”
“Nee, danki,” she said, lifting her chin and walking past him. She might have to be pleasant to him in front of family, but she’d never forgive him for not wanting her anymore.
If she was honest with herself, though, she didn’t need to see John to be reminded of him most days. The three Stoltzfus bruders looked so much alike they could have been triplets—tall, square-jawed, with dark blue eyes so often serious. John wore his brown, almost black hair in an Englisch cut because he still lived in that world.
Rose Anna heard the truck engine start, and the next thing she knew John was pulling up beside her. He stopped and the window on the passenger side slid down. “You’re sure you don’t want a ride?”
“I said nee, danki,” she repeated, and her words sounded as cold as the air she was breathing. She’d rather freeze to death than get into his truck.
His driving the Englisch vehicle was one of the many sources of friction between him and his dat. John was the last of the Stoltzfus bruders who had moved to town after not getting along with their dat and the last to reconcile with him and rejoin the Amish community. The only reason he was living here now was because Sam and Mary Elizabeth had married, and John could no longer afford the apartment he’d shared with Sam.
Mary Elizabeth had confided to her that she and Sam had asked John to move in with them. She wondered if that was the reason for John carrying the box out to the truck just now.
It was nice that they had offered when they’d only been married a few months and moved into their own farm down the road.
But whether he lived at his old home, or with Sam and Mary Elizabeth instead of in town, it meant that she was going to have to see him more often and that rankled.
Rose Anna glared at the truck. Later, she’d chide herself for childishness. She found herself reaching down to a drift of snow at the side of the road, packing it into a hard ball in her hands, and throwing it at the truck as he accelerated away.
It hit the glass window of the truck cab, dead-on—no surprise since she was great at softball. He slammed on the brakes, then he got out and stood staring at her, his hands on his hips.
“Why’d you do that?” he demanded.
She turned on her heel and began stomping back toward home.
And that was when she felt something thump her on the back. She turned and saw him forming another snowball with his hands.
Frowning, she bent, quickly scooped up snow in her hands, formed another ball, and hit him in the center of the chest before he could lob another at her. She took off running toward the Stoltzfus farm and made it to the front door just as he got her with another ball of snow. Doors here weren’t locked in the middle of the day. She slipped inside before he could hit her again and found herself staring at Amos sitting in his recliner reading the newspaper.
“Guder mariye,” she said politely. “Is Waneta home?”
He closed his mouth that had fallen open at her abrupt entrance and nodded. “In the kitchen.”
Rose Anna brushed the snow from her coat and wiped her feet before walking there. Waneta stood at the big kitchen table kneading bread.
“I was just out and thought I’d stop by,” she said brightly. She spun around when she heard footsteps behind her.
John strolled in just then. “I think you forgot something,” he said, pushing a handful of loose snow in her face.
“John! Whatever are you doing?” his mudder cried, looking appalled.
“She started it,” he told her and he strolled out, chuckling.
Rose Anna wiped the snow from her face and grinned at Waneta as the older woman hurried over with a dish towel to dry her off. “He’s right. I did. I don’t know what got into me.”
She did know, but she wasn’t going to tell the woman she’d hoped would be her mother-in-law one day. It just hurt too much to share with her how badly her sohn had hurt her when he turned his back on their relationship and left the Amish community.
***
John knew he was going to hear from his mother about what he’d done when he returned for the rest of his things. And undoubtedly, if she told his father, he’d have a word or two or three with him for sure.
But it had been worth it to see the look of utter shock on Rose Anna’s face and to rub the snow on that cold face of hers.
Boy, the woman sure could hold a grudge.
Icy water dripped down his neck as the snowball she’d hit him with melted. He found himself grinning as he turned up the heater, slipped his favorite CD into the player, and turned the volume to full blast.
He jumped when he heard the siren behind him and caught a glimpse of flashing lights in his rearview mirror. A quick glance at the speedometer sent a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with Rose Anna’s snowballs. Great, he thought, hitting the brakes and signaling that he was moving over onto the shoulder of the road.
The police cruiser pulled up behind him, and an officer appeared at the side of the truck. John lowered the window, and a blast of cold air rushed in.
“Do you know how fast you were