Free Big Decisions by Linda Byler Page A

straight up, remembering her big news.
    “Hey, Mandy, guess what? Just guess!” Lizzie leaned forward, her gray eyes alight as she searched Mandy’s face.
    “You’re getting married!” Mandy said positively, without a doubt.
    “How do you know?”
    “You told me to guess.”
    “Well, guess what else.”
    “You’re going to live close to us.”
    “No!”
    “He’s building a new house for you!”
    “Yes! Oh, Mandy, I mean it. Can you just imagine how excited I’ll be? Mam will live just down over the hill from me.”
    Mandy clasped and unclasped her knees, trying to remain genuinely happy, but like headlights on a car, she had hit the dimmer switch. Lizzie instantly caught on.
    “What? What’s wrong with that? Huh? Your smile kind of melted to a smaller one.”
    “No, no, Lizzie. That’s just great that you’ll live close to Mam in a new house. I’m really, really, genuinely happy for you.”
    Lizzie watched her with narrowed eyes. “That’s not all of it. What is it?”
    Mandy picked up a cushion and pulled at a button that was sewn in the middle of its top as if her life depended on it, her head lowered, averting her eyes. Finally, she sighed and looked up, straight into Lizzie’s eyes, honestly. “All right, here goes. It’s just that, well … nothing.”
    “Mandy, stop it. If you don’t stop that and tell me what’s on your mind, I’m going to go home.”
    “No, don’t. Don’t. All right. Okay. When we were little girls, and Mam bought us something, like a new scarf—actually, it was new scarves that I’m thinking of. You always and, Lizzie, I mean always, got to pick the best color, then me, then, of course, Emma. These three scarves were bright pink, yellow, and a dull green. Guess who got the pink one?”
    “Me. I remember,” Lizzie said flatly.
    “Okay. See what I mean. You’re used to getting what you want, right?”
    “No!” Lizzie protested vehemently.
    “I’m just saying you’ve always wanted a new house, and now Stephen is building you one. You never wanted to live far away from Mam, and now you don’t have to. Which is good, but just so you aren’t … aren’t …”
    Mandy floundered for the right word, and Lizzie sighed, rolling her eyes.
    “Selfish.”
    “Yes.”
    Mandy said it evenly and meaningfully, not unkindly, just dropping the word like the colored little pill you drop into warm vinegar water to dye Easter eggs. It was only one little word, but it immediately changed the ordinary water into one brilliant with meaning.
    “So you think I’m selfish?” Lizzie asked, her eyebrows drawn low, suspiciously.
    “Not always, Lizzie. Just sometimes. I’m afraid you’ll be selfish with Stephen. Like expecting him to do everything perfectly and on time, and just … well, Lizzie, marriage is just not for you to sit on a pretty cushion and expect your husband to keep you happy.”
    “I know that,” Lizzie spat out, thoroughly riled now.
    “I’m sure you do.”
    “Well, I do. I don’t care what you say.”
    “Let’s not argue,” Mandy said agreeably, gazing unseeingly out the window.
    “I’m not arguing, Mandy. I’m not selfish, either. Well, I know what you mean, though. It seems as if I get my own way in lots of things, and that I don’t appreciate it enough but just expect more. I’m sure that’s the way you see me from your perch on top of the Himalayan Mountains with the rest of the little grizzled men who dish out wisdom to us failures!”
    Mandy laughed genuinely, then jumped up and tugged on Lizzie’s sleeve.
    “Come on, let’s eat an early lunch. I’m starving. John isn’t home today. He’s helping his brother with hay and will eat there. So let’s make those huge sandwiches like we used to make on Saturday evenings before church.”
    They went to the kitchen, finding Swiss cheese, leftover chicken, tomatoes, and mayonnaise, which they slathered thickly on two slices of soft, chewy, homemade bread. Heating the griddle, they slowly