“Hello, Harvey. I wasn’t expecting you this early.” I flattened my apron, but no use in trying to improve my appearance after a day’s work. I was wiped out and must look it.
“I was wondering if we could stroll through the nursery,” he said. “I’m looking for a gift. Is it true you sell flowering plants in the greenhouses?”
“Yah, so many beautiful flowers and shrubs, but I know little about them. I can get someone to help you.”
“But it’s you I came to see.”
“Why?” I blurted out.
“To get to know you better.” I must have looked startled because he added, “And talk about your baptism. Classes will start soon.”
“Would Olivia Beiler be allowed to take them with me?”
“She is welcome, although her parents are in the same district as yours, and they’ve graciously taken her back to live with them. I was most thankful to hear she’s returned to the fold. The Englisch world tempted the poor girl away. I heard she cut her hair for what she thought was a generous act, but that’s the least of her transgressions. She has much confessing and repenting to do.”
“Maybe I should join in that district too.” But I didn’t plan to move home unless I lost this job. My life was a whirlwind of uncertainties.
“That would be a long drive.”
I noticed a man walking by lugging a potted rosebush, budding but not blooming. I kept expecting Jake to barge in and make a scene. If he did, Harvey might never let him join the church, and then what? I decided the sooner Harvey and I left, the better.
“I should go back to my cabin and change my clothes for supper,” I said.
“No need, really. You look perfect as you are.”
“But at least a clean apron. And Beatrice has kindly offered to iron a clean kapp.”
“No need to change a thing, Eva. That is, if you decide to come home with me for supper.”
“Yah, I accept your invitation.”
“As I said, by the end of the day everyone will be dressed casually.”
“Even on a Saturday evening?” I didn’t buy his story. “If you have dochders in rumspringa, they might be all spruced up to go out with their friends or beaus.”
“They’d better not, as this get-together was their idea.” He cleared his throat. “And I agreed it was a gut one.”
Through the glass wall, I saw a young Amish fellow pushing a wheelbarrow.
“You have a wistful expression on your face,” Harvey said.
“In truth, I’d rather be working out in the nursery than in here.” I thought he might quote a proverb about learning to be content where God plants you. But he smiled back as though he found me delightful.
“Many young women would envy you. For instance, one of my dochders loves to cook more than anything.”
“Is she looking for a job?” Maybe one of his daughters had an ulterior motive for meeting me. “She could fill out an application in case one of my girls quits.” I would not be surprised if Sadie and Mark announced their intention to wed, or if Annie found a higher-paying job or enrolled in school. Or if we got plain old too busy, which I supposed was an oxymoron.
“I’ll let her know,” he said. “I hope my invitation hasn’t made you anxious.”
I realized I was wrapping my kapp’s string around my index finger. Tighter and tighter, until my fingertip ached. I tried to appear nonchalant as I released my digit. “Ach, I guess I am nervous. Am I in some kind of trouble?” Maybe Harvey had heard about my driving Jake’s automobile and backing into Wayne’s patrol car. “Is that why you wish to speak to me?”
“Not in the slightest.” He rested his chin on his knuckles. “I’m extending a welcome to you to our district, and I hope you’ll feel comfortable attending church in the future. Tomorrow is a nonpreaching Sunday. Maybe you’d feel more comfortable meeting my family during the day.”
“I might go to church with my parents tomorrow if I can borrow the mare and buggy. I should have thought to ask Stephen earlier in the day.”
The phone in the kitchen jangled. I ignored the intrusion, but the ringing continued relentlessly. It finally fell silent.
As Harvey and I entered the nearest greenhouse, he read the sign aloud. “Tropical Plants. Sounds interesting.” The air was warm and moist. We were embraced with the ambrosia of gardenias.
“I could spend my whole day in here. When I take a break, I often wander through the greenhouses.” I took a leap of courage and asked, “Did your wife enjoy gardening?”
“Yah, very much. She could name each flower and bush in her garden.”
“That is my goal, someday. For now, I only know the more common varieties.” We strolled past pots of African violets and orchids.
“Plus she grew pumpkins, cucumbers, and gourds. Not a space left open.”
In a bold moment I asked, “Do you miss her?”
“Yah, I do.” His upper lip trembled, but he steadied it. “I’m grateful for my children and grandchildren, but they don’t take the place of a spouse. A man gets lonely.” I waited for him to expound, to elaborate, but he said nothing.
“Do you think one woman can take the place of another?” The greenhouse turned silent. What was I thinking, asking such a personal question of a bishop? I imagined he had helped many widows survive the loss of their spouses. Even after some gruesome tragedies.
“Her death was Gott’s will. If the Lord selects another spouse for me, I must obey.” His eyes turned jovial. “Or puts one in my path and allows me to do the selecting.”
“Even if you don’t love her?”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t love her, or at least find her attractive?”
To give myself something to do, I picked up an African violet and removed a broken leaf and shriveled flower. “I’d like one of these for my parents’ window.”
“Then I shall purchase it for you. I told you I was looking for a gift.”
I
