Later that afternoon, Sarai finished sorting the eggs into various cartons. The last dozen of various patterns and colors that didn’t quite make an attractive pattern in a carton she left in the mesh bowl on the counter for use in their own baking.
Outside, the trees were waving in a strong wind, and she watched a twig fly past.
“Wow,” she murmured.
They’d already sold half the eggs today, and she had some set aside for special orders to be picked up in the morning. Colorful eggs laid by specialty hens were beautiful on the outside, but they were just regular on the inside. An omelet made from plain white or brown eggs tasted the same as those that came from pink, blue, green or copper shells. Inside, they were all the same, but the different-hued exteriors—the part they discarded when cooking—allowed Sarai and Mammi Ellen to sell those for double the regular price.
They reminded her of Arden all those years ago. He’d been very handsome, very charming, and the part that mattered most—the inside of him—hadn’t been anything special. In fact, a boy who’d play those games with several girls at once wasn’t someone Sarai could respect on any level. And why had the girls trailed after him like a line of silly ducklings? Because he was handsome, and he had a smile that could make a girl’s stomach drop just by being caught in its rays. But what use was any of that if a man didn’t have character as strong as his muscles?
“That Arden Stoltzfus has grown into quite a strapping man, hasn’t he?” Mammi said, coming back into the kitchen with her knitting in hand.
“Yah, I suppose he has,” Sarai replied.
“And he seemed to be talking to you very earnestly.”
Sarai smiled at that. “It wasn’t quite what it looked like.”
“I’m not blind yet, my dear girl,” Mammi said with a chuckle. “Not blind yet!”
“Don’t you remember him from his Rumspringa?” Sarai asked.
“Most boys go a little wild during their Rumspringas,” Mammi replied.
“So it’s a free pass to act like he did?” Sarai shook her head. “I think the freedom gives us a peek into a man’s real character when he’s given permission to loosen up and explore.”
“If I recall, there were all sorts of girls in love with him that year,” Mammi replied.
“He led them on,” Sarai said. “And he was absolutely shameless about it. Do you remember how Lizzie cried for days over him? He’d told her that he couldn’t imagine being with any girl but her. And the next day he was telling Abigail Strauss the very same thing. And yes, you can blame the girls for being silly enough to believe him, but I personally blame him. Believing someone isn’t half so reprehensible as outright lying, now, is it?”
“It was poor behavior, to be sure,” Mammi agreed.
“And I don’t think people change all that much,” Sarai went on. “Naomi Peachy—Naomi Klassen now—was a fantastic cook ever since she was a girl. Haddie Ebersole was always strong and honest. Verna Kauffman has been the same faithful woman she always was from her teen years on up. I remember when Verna used to stop the Englishers from taking pictures of me. She was so loyal to our Amish way, and she still is. And as for me—have I changed so much since I was seventeen? No, I think that a Rumspringa often shows us exactly what a character is made of, Mammi. And we should believe it when someone shows us the truth of himself.”
“I know why you’re so cautious, Sarai,” Mammi said quietly. “I do understand. Your cousin Lizzie’s marriage has been difficult for her. Not every marriage is like that, and even hers won’t stay that way every day of her life. People grow and change, and Lizzie and Paul will work through these rough patches and come out the other side of it better people.”
“Lizzie seems to want that,” Sarai said. “But Paul doesn’t seem to.”
“Paul is trying to appear stronger than he is. Marriage is long, and things change. Mark my words.”
Yah, Sarai was a little spooked by her cousin’s hasty and regrettable marriage. The problem seemed to be that Lizzie had a certain type of man she had been drawn to. Paul was just like Arden. He’d been bold and flirtatious, with the confidence of a bull. And where had that gotten her cousin? She was now married to a man who flirted with women, sometimes right in front of her. Yet he didn’t seem to show Lizzie that she was precious to him anymore. Now that he’d married her, he took her for granted. He was selfish and wanted things his way all the time, and Lizzie was well and truly stuck with him.
If Lizzie could go back in time, Sarai had a feeling that she wouldn’t have married Paul after all. But there was no way but forward, and Lizzie would have to live with her choice. But that wasn’t what Sarai wanted to talk about.
“Did you know that Arden has come to take Moe back to Ohio with him?” Sarai asked.
Mammi Ellen froze. “What?”
Sarai hadn’t quite meant to announce it like that. “I know. I was upset about it, too. But he says he’s here from Ohio to bring his grandfather home with him. He says Moe is getting too old to take care of himself anymore, and they want him to go be with family.”
“Oh, dear...” Mammi sighed. “I know he’s getting older, but then, so am I. I didn’t realize it was so bad. Did he tell them it was time?”
“No. From what I understand, Arden is here to convince him.”
“Oh.” Mammi’s eyebrows went up. “Is he, now?”
Mammi headed over to the sink. She turned on the water, but her gaze was fixed out the window, and she did nothing with the running tap.
“Are you all right, Mammi?”
Her grandmother picked up a water glass and filled it, then turned the water off. “Yah, I’m fine, dear.”
“You’ll miss him if he goes, won’t you?”
“I’ll miss him a great deal.” Mammi looked at the glass of water and placed it untouched on the counter.
“He doesn’t have to go,” Sarai said.
“If his family is asking him to come, and at his age...”
“He’s only a few years older than you, Mammi, and I don’t see you moving in with anyone just yet,” Sarai replied.
“In all fairness, I have you living with me, my dear girl.”
“But Moe is still strong, and he comes over here every day,” Sarai pressed. “He takes care of his farm, and he has you. Unless someone is looking to get their hands on the farm early, I don’t see why he should be pushed out.”
“You don’t think—” Mammi stopped, worry swimming in her blue eyes.
“Who inherits the place?” Sarai’s mind was clicking forward, trying to figure out the problem. When an elderly person went to live with a son or daughter, the land would go to whoever was meant to inherit it, and they would begin running the farm.
