A knock spared Sarai from having to answer, and she headed over to open the door. Moe stood there on the porch, a smile on his lined face and his grandson standing behind him. Arden had matured, deepened. Those boyish good looks had solidified into a taller, broader, more chiseled man. His face was cleanly shaved along a strong jawline, and his dark, wavy hair poked out from under his hat—time for a trim. Sarai met his direct brown gaze, and he gave her a nod.
Goose bumps ran up her arms. He’d always been a young man who had that effect, and he’d spent his Rumspringa breaking hearts. But that was a long time ago, and Sarai was a grown woman now. There would be no games with the likes of Arden Stoltzfus.
“Hello, Sarai,” Moe said with a smile. “You remember my grandson, I’m sure. He’s come by for a visit.”
Arden shot a veiled look at his grandfather, but he recovered quickly and smiled at Sarai.
“It’s been a while,” Arden said.
“Yah. A few years,” she agreed. “Come on in.”
The men entered, and Moe ambled directly to his usual spot at the kitchen table. Mammi Ellen shot him a smile and brought a freshly baked cherry pie to the table.
“It looks wonderful, Ellen,” Moe said. “You make a fine pie. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“Oh, you’re quite the sweet-talker, Moe,” Mammi Ellen said with a chuckle. “But it helps to have someone to bake for, for sure and certain. Sarai and I just can’t eat all the baking ourselves...”
The older folks settled into a chat, and Mammi put a pile of four plates on the table and started dishing a piece for Moe. When everyone had a slice, Mammi Ellen and Moe continued their conversation, and Sarai and Arden stood by the far kitchen window, their plates balanced in their hands.
“So what really brings you back?” Sarai asked.
“What do you mean?” Arden asked. He took a bite of pie. “Wow. This is really good. Dawdie was right.”
“Don’t you try and change the subject,” Sarai replied. “I saw the look you gave him when he said you were here for a visit. You are not here for a visit—that was plain.”
And it likely wasn’t her business, either, but Sarai looked up and met his gaze all the same. “Are you moving back or something?”
Arden shook his head and lowered his voice. “I’m trying to convince my grandfather to move to Ohio to be with the rest of the family.”
“Move?” Sarai frowned. “But he’s so happy here.”
“He’s too old to take care of things on his own,” Arden said.
“Oh, that’s silly,” Sarai said. “He knows where to come for pie, and he’s very spry for his age.”
“He got a bad cold this last spring,” Arden said.
“I know. We helped care for him.”
It had been tough for the old man. His cough lasted weeks, but they’d made him chicken soup and insisted he stay inside next to the woodstove. Sarai had changed all his linens every three days and washed everything up for him. It had been a lot of work until one of Moe’s married granddaughters arrived to take over. But that was what neighbors did. Besides, Moe was special.
“We appreciate all you did to help him when he was ill,” Arden said, his voice firm. “But it should be family doing it, and we shouldn’t have to take a bus in order to do our duty by our grandfather, either.”
“It was your sister who did it,” Sarai countered.
“Last time,” he agreed. “And this time—I’m here.”
His words were strong, and she felt the line being drawn. He was here for his grandfather on family business, and Sarai was not family. She looked back to the kitchen table, where the old people sat eating together. Mammi was in the middle of a story, and Moe chuckled along as she talked.
“If you treat him like he’s old, he’ll feel old,” Sarai said, turning back to Arden. “Don’t you see how happy he is with Mammi Ellen?”
“Yah. Of course,” he replied.
“I think the two of them should get married,” she said, and Arden coughed and sputtered, and his face went red. “Sorry...”
She winced and waited while he coughed a few times.
“Are you all right?” Mammi Ellen asked from the table. She rose to her feet. “Let me get you some water, Arden.”
Mammi went to the sink for a glass of water, and Arden accepted it with a strained smile of thanks. He drained the glass of water and cleared his throat another couple of times as Mammi went back to the table.
Arden lowered his voice. “You want to set up our grandparents?”
“It’s a good idea,” Sarai said. “They make each other happy. They’ve been good friends for years, and your dawdie comes over here every day for a piece of pie or a bowl of soup or sometimes just a cup of coffee. They always find something to chat about, and they’re happier together.”
“He’s eighty-two,” Arden said flatly.
“And she’s seventy-eight. I don’t see the problem,” Sarai replied. “They’re adults.”
“I’ve been asked by my father and my uncles to come bring Dawdie home,” Arden replied.
Yes, his male relatives’ authority was all on his side, but Sarai saw something none of the rest saw: the way Moe and Ellen lit up when they were in the same room together. They cared deeply for each other, and Sarai thought their friendship was particularly beautiful. She took another bite of pie and chewed thoughtfully.
“It would be easier for both of them if they lived together and cared for each other,” Sarai said, spearing the last bite onto her fork. “And they can’t do that if they aren’t married. But just look at them...”
Mammi Ellen was leaning forward, nodding and listening to Moe talk about something that Sarai couldn’t make out. The happiness at being together was evident—to her, at least.
“You live with your grandmother, though,” Arden countered.
