Thankfully, Lena had managed to locate a Mennonite neighbor willing to allow her to place the long-distance phone call from their home, provided she covered the cost. Deb Grant had been quick to accommodate when she learned from Lena of her dilemma while at the local general store.
The phone rang just twice before she heard Emma’s voice on the line. “Hullo . . . Schweschder?”
“Jah, ’tis Lena Rose callin’. Denki ever so much for helpin’ make this possible.”
“Oh, it’s so gut to hear your voice again!” Emma said. “Chris is right here, all smiles, tryin’ to be patient. So I’ll let him talk to ya. Then I want to get back on to update you ’bout some things, all right?”
“Sure,” Lena said, eager to talk to her little brother.
She could hear whispering from Emma as her sister handed the phone to Chris.
“Hullo?” His small voice sounded wispy, like he was unsure of himself, this being the first time he’d ever talked into a phone.
“Wie geht’s, Chris? I’ve missed ya, dear Bruder!”
“Ach, Lena Rose, when’re ya comin’ home?” he asked mournfully.
“Well, just as soon as I can find some work there and a place to stay.” Hearing him ask made her all the more homesick for him . . . and the rest of her family there. It stirred up such a longing to tousle his hair and smile into his blue eyes.
“I’ll give ya my room at Dawdi Schwartz’s, if ya want.”
“Aw . . . but where would you sleep, Chris?”
“I wouldn’t mind the floor.”
“Well, you need your rest, though. You’re a growin’ boy—sprouting up real fast, from what Mammi says.” Lena was touched by his generous offer but knew that if it were really an option, it would have come up before she left Centreville. “And . . . you can be sure that the deacon and Emma are keeping an eye out for somethin’.”
“I just wish you could come home tomorrow,” he said, his voice cracking.
“I wish that, too. But Christmas isn’t so far away, and we’ll get to spend time together then.”
There was no answer to that, only the sound of sniffling, and the next thing Lena knew, Emma was on the line apologizing. Oh dear, thought Lena Rose, worried the phone call might have made things worse.
“Just wanted you to know I’ve been talking to our kinfolk here, and so far no one has good-paying work for you,” Emma was saying.
“I’ve been writing to Deacon Miller, and some of our relatives, too,” Lena Rose confided. “And still nothing has turned up.”
“Please don’t give up, sister . . . all of us want you home as soon as possible. We’ll get ya here.”
“Well, at least I’ll see all of you at Christmastime.”
“That’ll be wunnerbaar!” Emma exclaimed.
“It certainly will. And I think Hans will be glad, too.”
“Does he write often?” asked Emma. “Not that it’s any of my business.”
“To tell the truth, he’s not much for letters, but when he does write, it’s real nice to hear from him.”
“Courtin’ by mail can’t be much fun,” Emma said.
“True, but it’s the best we can do right now. And if he loves me . . .” Lena’s voice trailed off.
“Well, jah, but do ya love him?”
Lena felt a little surprised at this and gave a light laugh. “I’m going to marry him one day,” she declared in answer. “And live near all of you there in Centreville.”
They talked a bit more about how their other siblings were faring, then said their good-byes, not wanting to test the kindness of the Grants by running up the phone bill beyond Lena’s ability to pay it.
When the call was over, Lena stood there looking at the phone, wondering why things had to be so difficult.
I feel so bad for Chris, she thought. Maybe I shouldn’t have called.
She offered Deb Grant cash on the spot, but the cheerful woman refused, saying she wanted Lena to feel free to call home at another time. “We can figure out what you owe then, if you’d like.”
Ever so thankful, Lena shook the woman’s hand and quietly left the house, feeling all in.
The early weeks since Lena’s arrival had been busy ones—going to market and running errands with Harley and Mimi, but mostly trying to fulfill a mountain of customers’ orders.
Each evening around sunset, Lena observed Cousin Mimi go around and lower the dark green window shades in the large sewing room just off the kitchen, like she was tucking the place in for the night. Little habits like this made Lena remember the way her Mamma had done things, and she found herself having to redirect her thoughts right quick, lest tears come. She was trying to be content assisting Cousin Mimi with the many custom sewing and mending orders they received each week. The work was satisfying enough, and Lena looked forward to mailing most of her earnings to Uncle Noah to distribute amongst the families looking after her youngest siblings.
It’s the least I can do. . . .
With only one week left before Thanksgiving, the weather shifted abruptly to steadily cold temperatures and snow. But despite the blustery weather, Cousin Harley had gone hunting again, this time with his son Eli, both of them in hopes of getting a nice plump turkey. Lena took notice of the heavy snow as she and Mimi rose to stretch their legs in the sewing room, going to look out one of the windows, standing close enough to see their breath fog the windowpanes. “‘Early snows are always a welcome sight,’ my father used to say,” Lena said softly, reminiscing aloud.
“Not sure I can say I feel thataway. We’ve had snow here as early as late October,” Mimi said, glancing at Lena and smiling.
Lena shrugged. “Maybe Dat found it easier to spot a turkey flying against a snowy landscape.” She thought of Cousin Harley’s bow-hunting trip back in September—he’d had no deer to show for his full day out shivering in the cold woods.
Now Mimi nodded absently, still staring out at the thick flakes falling ever so
