Big Decisions by Linda Byler

that was all right. She did that now, and Stephen listened. He liked to hear her talk.
    Oh, there were countless things to look forward to when she got married. Stephen would buy her a set of china, a water pitcher and tumbler set, and silverware in a nice wooden chest. Mam would go furniture-shopping with her. It was all just too good to be really true. Already, Mam was piecing two quilts for her, and one was a yellow and white Dahlia pattern that she would put on her guest bed. If she had one. She didn’t know how many bedrooms Stephen was planning on having in the house.
    She missed her pupils, thinking back to the last day of school a month earlier. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to try and keep on teaching in spite of getting married or not. They had asked her to return in the fall, but she really hadn’t decided. The money she made would be nice, but maybe it would all prove to be too stressful with the new house underway and planning her wedding.
    Mam was really the one who carried most of the stress when it came to having a wedding. Lizzie often wondered what kept her from popping like a balloon when you blow it up too far; that’s how nervous she became about the day before the risht-dawg . Oh, well, a lot of Emma and Mandy’s wedding-day tensions could have been avoided if they hadn’t cared so very much about things like the amount of guests they invited, the menu, or who did what.
    It didn’t matter a whole lot to Lizzie, because a wedding was just a wedding, and then it was over. Who knew or remembered who was invited and who was not, or what they ate, for that matter. She slapped Bess and told her to hurry up. It was time to get home.

Chapter 7

    S TEPHEN SPREAD OUT THE sheet of paper with blue markings all over it. After he turned it the proper way, it resembled a rectangular pattern of sorts, the lines running every which way, outlining walls, doors, and windows.
    “There. Hold that corner,” he said.
    Lizzie held down the one side of the drawing to keep it from rolling up and peered eagerly at the sketch of their house.
    “Here’s where the front steps go up to a small porch,” Stephen explained. “This door goes into the kitchen. You said you wanted the floor plan open—kitchen, dining room, and living room in one, or almost. What do you think?”
    Lizzie drew down her eyebrows, concentrating intently on the small squares that were rooms.
    “Do that porch and door face the road?”
    “Mm-hmm.”
    “Oh.”
    Two bedrooms made up the back of the house; the bathroom sat on one side with the basement stairs across from it. An open stairway in the living room divided it from the back bedroom. The dining room and kitchen seemed like one room except for a small wall on each side that separated them, and the living room was off to the left, creating an L-shaped living area.
    Lizzie loved the sensible house plan. For a small house, it was very open, the space flowing together in a way that allowed for the maximum amount of light and air on summer days.
    “We don’t need two bedrooms, though,” Lizzie said doubtfully.
    “I thought we’d use the one to put my desk and gun cabinet and all my hunting and fishing things in until we need it,” Stephen said.
    “How many bedrooms are upstairs?”
    “Three small ones. It’s only a story and a half, you know. The dormers out the front allow for extra space for windows.”
    “What color is our house going to be?” Lizzie asked eagerly.
    “What color do you like?”
    “Brown.”
    “We’ll have brick halfway up to the windows, so we’ll need to decide what color we like. I like white bricks with brown mortar. I think that will look nice with that brown siding that resembles wood.”
    Lizzie looked at Stephen. She was incredulous. White bricks! White! He couldn’t be serious. He liked white bricks. She knew in one swift moment that she shouldn’t say anything, but she so desperately disliked the idea of ruining her dreamed-about little brown house