by Amy Lillard
* * *
“I’m going for a walk,” Jenna called on Monday afternoon.
Mamm poked her head out of the kitchen, her brow wrinkled. “Again?”
Jenna nodded. “It’s such a nice day.” Nice enough to walk down to the phone shanty for a fourth time to see if Buddy had called about them meeting. She had thought of nothing else since she had seen him the day before. Now all she wanted to do was see him again.
Somehow, somehow, she would find a way to make her mamm understand that she and Buddy were meant to be together.
The phone shanty was not far from their house. Close enough that it was still on their property and on the same side of the road as the house. Hopefully Mamm wouldn’t find any problem with her walking there. But just in case, she wasn’t telling Mamm where she was going.
The phone shanty looked just the same as it had the last three times she had been there that morning, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be a message. Fourth time was a charm. Okay, so she knew people always said third, but that didn’t seem any more reasonable than four, so she changed it to fit her needs.
The inside was a little dusty and there were surely more spiders than she wanted to think about, but she picked up the phone and dialed the number for the voicemail messages. One was for their neighbor. Jenna was careful to write it down on the notepad next to the little bench seat in the shanty. The second message was also for their neighbor, and again she neatly wrote the message on the notepad. And the third one was from Buddy.
“Hi, Jenna. I hope you get this message. I’m coming to see you Tuesday afternoon. I think that’s the best time. I’ll explain when I get there; just make sure you’re home. See you then.”
She listened to it two more times before she erased it and headed out of the shanty. She was going to get to see Buddy again. Maybe the fourth time really was a charm.
Jenna made her way back to her house and wondered what she would wear tomorrow. Her dark turquoise-colored dress. It was the exact color of the ocean in a travel poster she had seen once in Yoder. She had never been to the ocean and couldn’t imagine that it was really that marvelous color, but one day she hoped to see it and know for herself. Purple, of course, was her favorite, but Mammi always told her that the deep, rich blue of the ocean-colored dress made her eyes seem an impossible color.
Secretly she couldn’t imagine that her eyes looked any different in one dress than they did another, but the dress itself was one of her favorites. Her mammi had sewn little whale-shaped buttons at the bottom of the short sleeves. It wasn’t that Jenna liked whales more than any other animal or fish, but they had matched the material and Jenna liked the idea of having whales going around with her all day. She had read at the library that some whales were even larger than most houses, but she couldn’t imagine. All she knew was she liked the buttons and she liked the dress and she would wear it tomorrow when Buddy came over. Now all she had to do was convince Mamm to leave her at home when they headed off for the quilting circle meeting.
Chapter Nine
“You don’t feel warm.” Mamm held one hand to Jenna’s forehead.
“I didn’t say I was warm. I said my head hurt.”
Mamm shook her head and Jenna adjusted the covers up to her chin. “Maybe we all should stay home tonight.”
“No.” Jenna rose half out of bed, then lay back down quickly and made sure she was completely covered once again. She was supposed to be resting, not lounging around in one of her best dresses while she waited for her mamm and mammi to leave for the quilting circle meeting.
“But I would feel bad if we left you here all by yourself and went to the quilting frolic.”
“And I would feel even worse if you stayed home because of me.” Or if you found out what was truly happening this afternoon. She did her best to make her expression look normal. But how did a person look when their head hurt? She wasn’t sure. So she squinted and wrinkled her forehead for added effect.
Mamm stood, but with a frown of her own. “Times like these I wish we had a cell phone.”
Jenna’s eyes widened, and she pushed herself up a bit in the bed. But just a bit. She wouldn’t want her mamm to see what she was wearing. Next time she would have to remember and change after they left for the meeting.
Next time. Was there going to be a next time? She had no idea. “A cell phone is against the Ordnung.”
Mamm gave a small shrug. “Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?” Jenna asked.
“Sometimes it is better to ask for forgiveness than beg for permission.”
“Oh.” Jenna lay back down. “Please go on to the meeting. Tell everyone that I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, and I’ll do my best to come to the next one.” And she would have to, she was sure. Missing too many meetings might make Mamm suspicious.
“If you’re certain.” Mamm sighed.
“It’s just a headache,” Jenna assured her.
“Probably from all those cakes you’ve been baking.” Mamm tsked. “Too much sugar.”
“Maybe,” Jenna said. She closed her eyes and acted like she was really and truly resting. “I won’t eat any while you’re gone.”
“I should hope not.” Mamm’s voice shifted and Jenna could tell that she had moved toward the door.
“Be safe,” Jenna said. She did her best to make her voice sound sleepy.
“Sei brauf,” Mamm said. Behave yourself.
“I will.” Jenna snuggled down into the covers a little deeper and scrunched her eyes closed. It was an outright lie. And it pained her, even though she knew that she wouldn’t be able to see Buddy without deceiving her mamm and her mammi. It was a hard fact to accept.
She stayed in the bed, covered up, eyes closed tight as she waited for the telltale sounds that they had left. The slam of the screen door. The tractor engine, the chug of the motor fading away as they drove from the farm. She stayed that way a while longer, counted to one hundred as slowly as she could, and hoped that it was slow enough.
“Ninety-nine, one hundred.” She threw back the covers and rushed to the window. The tractor was gone, taking Mamm and Mammi with it. Unless one of them felt guilty and stayed behind.
She crossed her fingers that they were both gone and tiptoed down the stairs. She listened for any giveaway noises that one of them stayed behind, but there were no shuffles or footsteps, no clank of dishes or splash of running water.
“Hello?” she called from the stairs. She was crouched over, trying to peer into the room below without actually setting foot in it. She called again and listened. No one answered in return. It had worked!
Jenna straightened and swept into the living room. It worked! It worked! “It worked!” She twirled around in a circle. It had worked, but now she had a few things to do before Buddy showed up.
She raced into the kitchen, pulled down her mamm’s cookbook, and grabbed the shortening from the cabinet. She wasn’t sure when Buddy would manage to get away from his folks, and she wanted to have everything ready for him when he did.
The cupcakes were on the cooling rack. She’d asked for Mammi’s help in making them yesterday. But they had run out of time and hadn’t been able to add the frosting. It was probably for the best. Mammi would have wanted to add chocolate buttercream frosting to the sweet, moist cupcakes. Normally Jenna would have liked that too. But these weren’t for Jenna, even if Mammi didn’t know. These were for Buddy Ivan Dale Miller, and they were going to have peppermint frosting on top, his favorite. Just like the ones that Esther made at her bakery.
She turned to the page where it showed how to make icing for cakes. She had done this a couple of times before, but never by herself. But she knew she could do it. Mamm didn’t give her enough credit. She could do a lot of things that no one thought she could. And that was the saddest part of all.
Sei brauf. Her mother’s words came back to her. She was trying to behave, but what was a girl supposed to do if she had found someone she wanted to spend time
with and no one thought they should be together?
But Mamm had said something else. Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than beg for permission. If that meant what she thought it did, then her mamm was saying that sometimes a person had to break a few rules even though they knew it was wrong, if there was something big at stake. She had added that last part herself. Because this was big. Her and Buddy. They wanted to be together. They might even be able to fall in love. And that was really big. And big was important. That meant she had to do what she had to do in order to make it work.
At least that’s what she thought it meant.
She measured out the powdered sugar and dumped it in a bowl. She left the container on the counter where she could get it later if she needed more. She had watched Mammi make icing her entire life and she always needed more powdered sugar than what the recipe called for. She wasn’t sure why that was, only that it was a fact of life.
One teaspoon of peppermint extract didn’t seem like enough, so she added another tablespoon and another dash more for good measure. A little bit of milk and she began to stir the concoction. It was tough at first, as she had known it would be. She added a little more milk, then wiped her eyes on her apron. They were stinging a bit. Maybe from lying about having a headache.
Stirring the mixture was still really hard so she added a bit more milk. But one look told her that was too much. She added more powdered sugar. Maybe too much of that since what should be smooth and creamy frosting was stiff and hard. A little more milk, a cup or so more powdered sugar. And another liberal dash of peppermint extract. She wouldn’t want her efforts to taste like plain old white frosting, since she had cut the amount of extract by adding more powdered sugar. She tried stirring again, but this time it was a little runny. She added more powdered sugar and more extract, but it was too much. More milk went in and the repetition continued until her bowl was brimming with the mixture and the powdered sugar container was almost empty.
It was hard stirring, but she was still worried about the peppermint flavoring, so she poured the rest of the bottle in for good measure. She hoped it was enough.
She had never made peppermint icing before. Her eyes watered a bit from the smell, but she supposed that’s what happened when a person baked with peppermint. Kind of like when a person cooked with raw onions.
Was that a tractor she heard outside? She stopped and listened but couldn’t tell if it turned down her drive or continued on. She stirred faster. Even if she only got a couple of the cupcakes done by the time he arrived, she would still be able to give him those. And she could finish up the rest of them tomorrow.
She concentrated on stirring just a portion of the icing. If she was going to worry about the bulk of it the next day, she only needed part of it this afternoon. She stirred as fast as her arms would allow her. Her hand was a blur as she mixed. The tractor engine was gone now. Because it had moved down the road out of earshot or because it had been turned off in front of her house. She didn’t know.
She grabbed one of the cupcakes and smeared the top of it with the frosting. But something happened. The cake crumbled and mixed with the snow-white icing.
“Dang,” Jenna said, then covered her mouth with one hand. What would Mamm say about such language? That she had been going to too many singings and shouldn’t be exposed to the bad influence of the younger people. She better make sure she never said that in front of her mother. But for now she was safe.
She did her best to hide the dark brown specks in the pristine white frosting, but everything she did just made it worse. She gave up on the first one and started a second. It was going a lot better than the first, until a knock sounded on the door.
She jumped and dug her butter knife into the top of the cupcake, spearing through the cake and tearing it. Chocolate crumbs once again stained her peppermint concoction.
“Dang,” she whispered.
The knock on the door sounded once again. “Jenna?” a muffled voice called.
Buddy!
“Just a minute.” She grabbed a third cupcake, but her hands were shaking, and it ended up being the biggest mess of all.
It’s the thought that counts. Wasn’t that what everyone always said? Jenna looked from the mess that was supposed to be beautiful Christmastime cupcakes even though it was May, to the powdered sugar strewn all over the counter, the smudge of shortening on the back of the sugar container, the overturned, empty bottle of peppermint extract. Everything about the cakes was a mess, from the kitchen where she had made them to the actual dessert. And she had no one to blame but herself.
“It’s the thought that counts,” she muttered as she took off her cooking apron. Below it she was wearing a white apron that thankfully had been spared from her shower of sugar. She dusted off her deep blue dress as she made her way to the door.
She wrenched it open to find Buddy on the other side, hand raised to knock once more. The second he saw her his face lit up and he smiled. Oh, how she loved his smile. She moved to one side and motioned him into the house. “Come in.”
He started forward, then hesitated. “Are you sure it’s okay? I mean your mamm and mammi aren’t home. Are they going to be okay with you having a guest?” He shook his head. “What am I saying? Of course they aren’t. I should go.”
He turned to make his way back to the tractor.
Jenna started after him. “Buddy, wait.”
But he didn’t stop. “This was a mistake.”
“It’s not,” she cried as she followed after him. She had been so happy to see him, even if she had used bad language and made a mess of her gift to him. She was still so very happy that he was there with her.
“I’m sorry, Jenna.” Still he didn’t turn around. Just kept walking.
She followed behind him, stumbled a bit as tears filled her eyes. “You can’t go. It’s not a mistake. It’s all part of God’s plan. Please, Buddy.”
He stopped, and for a moment she thought he might set his feet into motion once again. Instead he turned slowly to face her. “What did you say?”
“Please, Buddy.”
“Before that,” he said.
“You can’t go,” she repeated.
He shook his head.
“It’s not a mistake?”
“No.”
She ran over the words in her mind. It’s not a mistake. “I said it’s all part of God’s plan.”
The tension in his shoulders melted away like the snow under the bright southern sun. “You mean that?”
She had said a lot of things she hadn’t meant lately. A lot of things that were wholly untrue. But not this. “Jah. With all my heart.”
“All your heart?”
She nodded.
“What about your mamm?” he asked. “My mamm?”
“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “But I’m not willing to give up. Are you?”
“I think you are the best thing that could have ever happened here. I’m so glad we met, and I’m so glad you’re my friend. I never want to lose you.”
His words were so sweet and pure that she couldn’t help herself. She launched herself at him. She threw her arms around him and held him close. She loved the feel of him close to her, warm and solid. He would protect her. She knew that with all her heart. Now they just had to convince their mamms that they should be together. And that, she was certain, would require a little bit of skill, a dash or two of luck, and a whole lot of prayer.
* * *
He had done it. He still couldn’t quite believe he had actually done it. He had taken the tractor and left his house, not even bothering to leave a note. Mainly because he should be back before anyone else got home and noticed that the tractor was missing. And until then, he got to spend all his time with Jenna.
“You got my message,” he said as she led him toward the house.
“I did.”
It might be the best way for them to communicate. Unless someone else using the shanty would up and tell on her
for scheduling meetings with him. But until then, it was the best way they had.
Buddy followed her up the steps and onto the porch, but stopped before setting foot in the house.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t go in there.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I just shouldn’t.”
She tugged on his hand. “Come on.”
He tried to pull away, but he loved her touch on his skin. “Please, Jenna. It’s not right.”
“Nothing about this is right.”
He nodded. “That’s true, but some things . . . I can’t explain it. Some things are just wrong.”
“And going into my house is wrong?”
“When you’re the only one home, jah.”
The look in his eyes was so pleading, so sincere, that she couldn’t help but agree. “Will you sit on the porch with me?”
He nodded. “I would like that.”
She motioned toward the swing. “Go ahead and sit down. I have something for you.”
As Buddy sat down, Jenna hustled back into the house to get the cupcakes she had made for him. She had also put on a pot of coffee. Just to prove that she was old enough to drink it. ’Cause she was.
She got out one of the wooden trays they used at holidays and loaded up the cupcakes and two cups of coffee. She added sugar to hers, but left Buddy’s plain. All the men she knew took their coffee black. That meant without anything in it.
He smiled at her when she came back out onto the porch. She was sure he had the best smile she had ever seen. She set the tray on the table next to the swing and picked up one of the saucers containing a chocolate peppermint cupcake. She handed it to Buddy.
“What is it?” he asked, as he accepted the treat. He looked at it closer, his eyes wide. “Is this what I think it is?”
“I hope you like it.”
“I will,” he said with confidence. He peeled off the paper wrapper and took a big bite. One second it was in his mouth and the other it was all over the wooden planks of the porch.
“Yuck,” he cried, wiping his tongue with the paper. “Ugh!”