toasted them while Mandy poured peppermint tea into two tall glasses, adding ice cubes from the refrigerator.
Mandy told Lizzie that she was indeed very happy, and John was a sweet, kind, and loving husband. But like Mam told Emma before Baby Mark was born, having a baby is more than a woolly pink blanket, so it is with marriage. There were days, of course, when things went wrong, and your husband was not always the way you thought he should be. But when you averaged everything out, she would much rather be married, living right here on the farm, than anything else in all the world. Lizzie took a bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully while she listened. Of course, Mandy was right, just as she almost always was about important matters.
When John came home that afternoon, Mandy begged Lizzie to stay and watch them milk. John agreed laughingly, knowing her dislike of cows and anything that went with them.
So Lizzie tagged along with Mandy while she tied her dichly , the little triangular bandana most Amish women wear to do chores or help with farm work. She watched as Mandy went to the milk house and started assembling milkers, looking around at the brand-new interior of the large building.
“Wow!” she breathed. “Classy farmers!”
“You think so?” Mandy asked, pleased at Lizzie’s compliment.
“Of course. Our old milk house wasn’t even half as nice as this one. Maybe I wouldn’t have minded milking so much if our facilities had been better.”
She watched as John let the cows in who walked as ungracefully as any other cows, new cow stable or not. Cows didn’t change, that was for sure. John worked with deliberate swiftness, if there was such a thing. He didn’t seem to move fast; in fact, he hardly moved, and yet, he did everything at once. Mandy went from cow to cow, washing udders, exclaiming over the amount of milk in the milker from one of their best cows. They worked together in complete unison, and Lizzie could tell that Mandy had a genuine interest in the cows’ well-being, which in turn made John feel proud to have such a good helper.
Well, Lizzie thought wryly, God sure doesn’t make mistakes, does he? As much as I wanted to marry John, I could never be Mandy and love to milk cows the way she does. She doesn’t have to pretend one tiny bit. She truly enjoys her work on the farm.
They talked and laughed while they worked, the milkers clicking away in their usual ka-chink, ka-chinking rhythm. It reminded Lizzie of her mornings with Dat, which she never once had felt even a twinge of nostalgia about now that the cows were all gone. Milking cows was just not something she enjoyed, and she probably never would.
John was awfully good-looking, though, in his straw hat and everyday work clothes, and his small dark beard. She told Mandy about her observation after chores were done, and Mandy laughed agreeably.
“Of course, Lizzie, he’s the most handsome man in Cameron County, you know.”
As Lizzie drove out the driveway to start her long trek home, she looked forward to the time alone, driving Bess. She needed to think. No use looking back, that was one thing sure. Life went rolling along like a gigantic wheel, and all human mortals had to go along, whether they wanted to or not. But did she really want to go back to when Mandy and Emma were still at home, before Joshua and John were part of the family? Probably not really.
She did so look forward to the time when she would live in her own house with Stephen, even if she was worried about marriage sometimes. If there were trials and troubles, everybody got through them. Well, Amish people did anyway. Some English people were divorced, but they were allowed to be, and Amish people weren’t. Although when Mam heard of some far-off people who were having marital problems, she would shake her head and say, “They should live apart for awhile.” Stephen was quiet, that was one thing, so Lizzie would probably do most of the talking, but