it’s a boy.”
“Huh-uh.” Nellie chimed in. “Lucy wants a girl, so that’s the way we’re thinking.”
She peered over at Lucy’s bulging belly. “Although Frieda’s right about how low that
babe is.” Verna was unusually quiet about the whole conversation. She must have
something on her mind, but quilting was the best medicine, no matter what ailed a
woman. “As long as the baby doesn’t have Sam’s eyes, I don’t care if it’s a boy or
a girl.”
Nellie, Frieda, Rosy, and Lucy all stared at her. But Mamm ’s eyes were on her needle
as she stitched like she was punching a bag of corn. The room was silent for a long
moment.
“Why do you say that?” Frieda asked with a frown. Lucy was just glad she hadn’t had
to ask. She was curious as to why her mamm would say such a thing, at least out loud.
There were many things she thought about her own husband but never had the nerve
to say. She worried that Sam and Mamm might set each other off, but so far they’d
done their best to ignore each other.
“I’ve never seen such cutting eyes. And the color, it’s a mishmash of something I
haven’t seen before.” She tied and snipped a piece of thread and reached for a patch.
She glanced around the room quickly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
Now that Lucy thought about it, that was what made his stare intimidating and his
eyes unfriendly. It matched his personality to a T.
The room quieted again, and Lucy found she needed some air. She’d expected awkward
moments with her mamm coming to visit, but it wasn’t any easier to deal with. She
appreciated her mother’s concerns about Sam, but her mamm was an opinionated woman
around opinionated women, and it was a tough situation to be in the middle of when
they were all talking about Sam.
“ Jah , I guess I have,” Rosy responded, which surprised Lucy. She was usually the
last one to get into a controversy. But then Rosy was probably the most honest as
well. Not that the others weren’t, but Rosy had complete loyalty to the truth.
“Aha. I’m glad to hear someone say it.” Mamm looked over at Frieda, whom she probably
expected to comment about anything concerning Sam. Frieda normally made it obvious
that she didn’t like the man and never had. Verna probably didn’t either, judging
by her comment about him, but would never admit that.
Verna had encouraged the match between him and Lucy when she heard that a wealthy
widower was looking for a young, strong wife to help him farm. Lucy wasn’t sure then
why Sam looked for a wife outside his own community, but Verna convinced her that
she would enjoy working alongside him, just as she’d enjoyed working with her daed .
And it didn’t hurt that Sam didn’t seem to mind her scar. But even now that she could
see what Sam was really like, Verna was unlikely to own up to the fact that the match
hadn’t turned out to be a happy life for her daughter.
“This isn’t the time.” Lucy didn’t look directly at her mamm but hoped she’d know
not to continue the conversation. It wasn’t likely Sam would be walking through
the door, but in case he did, this wasn’t the time to talk about him. It never was.
This was her cross to bear.
Nellie reached for a patch and needle and began quilting, which was a wise thing
to do. It was as if a cow was in the room, but no one admitted seeing the creature.
“You’re looking a little peaked, Lucy.”
“ Jah , I think I’ll take a walk.” She noticed her mamm shifting in her seat. “Alone,
if that’s all right.” She looked away before her mamm could speak. The usual warm
conversation she shared with Rosy, Nellie, and Frieda was interrupted by her mother’s
presence.
B oom!
Lucy sat straight up.
Sam jumped out of bed. He grabbed his clothes from a chair, hopping on one foot,
stuffing his other leg into his pants.
Lucy held her belly and turned to the side of the bed, placing one foot down and
then the other. She felt like a snail, moving
Learning to Kill: Stories