Today's Reading
"How is Lena?" Judy asked, changing the subject. Simon wished his mother were here right now, but at this hour she was probably eating toast and jam and knitting another kapp for bopplin as she most often did. Her sight was going, but her fingers still insisted every head be covered to ward off chills of the next season.
"She is gut."
"Lena is always one for good health." Mary Alice began inspecting his cabinets for staple goods. Simon had just done his shopping a couple of days ago, retrieving everything a widower and one bu required. Thankfully she didn't address how many containers of beans and jars of peanut butter currently lined the middle shelf.
"Man cannot live on bread alone," Mary Alice quipped and shut the pantry door. "A fraa would offer you much. You should start courting before you forget how it's done."
No one in the community tested Simon's patience this much.
"Mary Alice, it is not our place to instruct our bishop," Judy intervened. "And not everyone is comfortable courting at his age."
Simon lifted a brow. He wasn't old, and the space between his temples was starting to throb.
"We should go and let him get on with his day. We still have one more visit to make." Judy turned to Simon. "The Hooleys have this cold now, and I made chicken soup and zucchini bread for them."
Simon deepened his frown. Another family sick. How many have fallen ill? he wondered.
"What will kumm of you and Michael if Lena's health fails? I worry over you, Simon Graber. Lena cannot be raising a child at her age." Mary Alice had what many referred to as "selective hearing."
"Danke, Mary Alice, but worry naet, lest your faith weaken. Gott always provides," he reminded her before turning to Judy. "And danke to you, Judy. The Hooleys will be grateful for your gift. You are a gut nochber. And certain sure I have no plans on courting." It was the same response he offered Judy's husband and his eldest bruder, Ervin, Minister Fender, and his mother anytime the subject was broached. He should probably come up with a better reply in the future.
Simon had no time to worry with all the rituals that led up to marriage. His life was too complicated to consider such foolishness. He had to remain focused so as not to allow another young soul to jump the fence. And what of Mahone's habit? It would take some thinking to end his not-so-secret sinfulness. Simon had a responsibility to be an encourager to others, convincing others to marry, decide when discipline was required, ordain ministers, and baptize new church members. The spiritual health of Cherry Grove relied on him. Bishop Menno had left it all in his hands.
"Daed." Michael emerged from his room, and a parade of deep coughs spilled out of him, causing both women to move closer to the door.
"I don't feel so good." Michael stood wrapped in a quilt, despite the temperature already being in the upper seventies. His sandy hair stuck out in various directions. Simon turned to his visitors. If the illness had reached his haus, it was best they leave. Mary Alice must have read his thoughts.
"We should be going, Judy," Mary Alice said, leaving faster than Simon had ever seen her exit a room before.
Simon went to his son, touched Michael's forehead, and felt the heat of a fever there.
"Let's get you back to bed, sohn. I don't think framing a haus today is gonna happen for you." Simon led Michael back to bed and went by memory to ready a cup of honey and lemon just as Lizzy used to do.
A fraa might better know how to handle many things, but the thought of marrying again, that was the least of Simon's worries. His sohn and his duty to his community...that was what he was married to now.
* * *
By the next morning, it was clear Michael needed something stronger than lemon and honey tea.
"He has the fever too," Mamm said, frowning. "Best be getting to your schwester's store to fetch medicine."
"You can't tell Aenti Verna. You know how she fusses," Michael said in a congested voice.
Verna was a good fusser. She had taken on being as near as a mamm to Michael as she could after Lizzy's passing. Between Verna's coddling and Lena's prayers, it was a wonder Michael dared get sick at all. Simon tucked a blanket over his sohn as he shivered. Already the length of his bed, Michael's feet pressed flat on the footboards.
"But I will take her soup," Michael added before rolling over. Simon quickly ran through his morning chores, harnessed his horse, and aimed for Wickey's Bulk Foods Store just three miles away. One could get a fresh loaf of bread, a bottle of fever reducer, and all the comings and goings of Cherry Grove. It was a good place for a single father and bishop to get everything he needed.
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