Free The Parting by Beverly Lewis Page A

the cornfield that lay between the families’ homes. “Hullo, Nellie Mae,” she said right quick. “I saw the light on in your kitchen and decided to pick up some pastries for our trip.”
    “Oh?” This was the first Nellie had heard they were traveling.
    “Joseph says ’tis past due for us to get away for a vacation,” Anna explained. “So this afternoon, we’re boarding a bus to Iowa . . . Kalona, where I have kinfolk.”
    “Plain?”
    “For the most part.”
    “Well, come on in.” Nellie didn’t need to bother with a key, as she never locked the shop; neither did her parents lock the house. She opened the door wide for Anna, who looked awfully glum for someone about to embark on a trip. “I’ve got plenty of cookies—all nice and warm, too. The pies and such are comin’ if you’d care to wait.”
    Anna shook her head. “Your uncle will be mighty happy with cookies.” Anna slowly selected several different kinds—oatmeal raisin, pumpkin, and the bishop’s all-time favorite, chocolate chip—almost as if the effort of choosing was too much this morning. Clearly her mind was on other things.
    “There’ll be no charge,” Nellie said when she had carefully wrapped up Anna’s requests.
    “Aw, Nellie Mae, are ya sure?”
    She nodded. “Yous have a wonderful-gut time out where you’re goin’.”
    Anna brightened momentarily. “Denki, we will.”
    “How long will you be?” Nellie thought to ask.
    “’Tis up to the bishop.” And to the Lord God, Nellie thought she heard Anna murmur with a slight frown on her face.
    She watched the gray-haired woman pull her black woolen shawl close around her before heading out the door. Anna made her way toward the desolate cornfield, carefully picking her way among the remaining hard stumps as she moved across the field toward home.
    Nellie wondered if Dat knew his elder brother was leaving town for a while. Why now, for goodness’ sake?

    When Nellie’s Simple Sweets was officially open for the day, Rhoda came to help with customers until she had to leave for her housekeeping job. Nellie was grateful for the assistance, though she wished for some privacy when her friend Rosanna stopped in.
    “You’re spoilin’ us but good, Nellie Mae,” Rosanna said after selecting two pies. “These look just delicious.”
    Nellie slipped away from the counter, delighted to see her again so soon after visiting just last week. “You getting . . . uh, things ready?” she asked, not wanting to say more with Rhoda nearby.
    Rosanna nodded. “Oh, goodness, I certainly am. Made an afghan—finished it off early this morning.” She whispered, “But I don’t have a pattern for baby booties.”
    “Ah,” Nellie said, her voice low. “Walk across the road and see Maryann ’bout that. She’d be glad to help.”
    “You think so?”
    “Well, Maryann’s thoughtful that way. And with so many young ones, she prob’ly does have a knitting pattern. No doubt she’s making a pair or two herself.”
    Rosanna touched her arm. “How’s your mamma been?”
    “Good days and bad.”
    “’Tis to be expected. Losin’ a child is the hardest loss of all.” Rosanna smiled weakly. “Word has it . . . well, some of her best friends seem to think she’s in need of some peace and quiet.”
    “Jah, ’spect so.” Nellie frowned, glancing out the window.
    “Aren’t we all?”
    Rosanna leaned on the display case. “Ach, are you all right, Nellie Mae?”
    She didn’t want to gossip, but she figured Rosanna had no idea of the bishop’s plan to travel to Iowa. “Oh, I’m doin’ fine, jah.”
    “Well, you don’t look it, if I may be so bold.”
    Nellie brushed off her apron and eyed her friend. “What’s a-matter with me?”
    Rosanna came around behind the counter to her. “Didn’t mean any harm. You just don’t seem yourself.”
    “Well, who, then?”
    To this, they both chuckled. And because she was not about to share any news that might upset either Rosanna or Rhoda,