by Leslie Gould
“But what about you and Dawdi?” Paul’s voice had increased in volume.
Noelle shrugged. She was too embarrassed to say that Salome had invited Dat for Christmas but not her. Instead, she explained Salome didn’t feel any of their houses were big enough.
“We can have it at our house.” He turned toward his wife. “Right?”
“Except my family is coming for second Christmas. That would be a lot to host two big gatherings back-to-back.” She gazed up at him. “How about next year . . . ? Although there will probably be ten new in-laws and as many babies.”
Noelle kept herself from dropping her eyes to LuAnne’s belly. Was she pregnant again?
“Is it really the lack of a building?” Paul asked. “Or does Mamm just not want to do it?”
“The former, according to what she said. She told me if I came up with a building to let her know.”
“I’ll ask about the school.” LuAnne seemed happy to help.
Paul stopped listening. He’d spotted Jesse. “Hey, what’s he doing here?” Before Noelle could answer, her nephew was striding toward Jesse, his hand extended. They shook hands, slapping each other on the back as they did. Everyone loved Jesse.
LuAnne leaned toward Noelle. “Are you doing okay?”
Noelle nodded.
“It’s not too awkward having Jesse around?”
They’d all seen her suffer when he left, but she wasn’t going to admit to anyone how hard it was to have him back. Only to herself.
LuAnne was as easily distracted as Paul. She spotted Holly’s chocolates and scurried across the aisle. After a minute, she turned toward Noelle, holding up a small box. “Look at these mini sleighs. Aren’t they cute?”
Noelle nodded. She’d noticed the Englisch seemed to like to buy small things, too, as she observed them in the market. Small squares of soap instead of bars. Small candles. Small greeting cards. Small jars of jam. Even small quilts.
The appeal was a mystery to her. But LuAnne seemed to share it.
Noelle turned her attention to her pies and pans of sticky buns. Maybe her servings were too big.
A few minutes later, a woman stopped to browse at Noelle’s booth, carrying a small candle in a tin. Noelle worked up her nerve and asked the woman why she chose it.
She held it up. “It’s just so cute, don’t you think?”
Cute. Noelle nodded. “But it’s not very practical.”
The woman laughed. “It makes me happy—that’s what matters.”
“Ach,” Noelle said. “I see.” But the truth was, she didn’t. Not at all.
Holly insisted that Carlos give Noelle a ride home, so she called Pamela in the early afternoon and left a message on the woman’s phone. By the time the market closed, marked again by the ringing of the bells, Holly was practically out of her chocolates.
“I’m going to have to go home and make more,” she said as she packed the few boxes that were left.
Last year during the Christmas Market, Noelle baked more each day for Salome to sell. Obviously, she wasn’t selling nearly as much this year though. She sighed at the thought of letting her family down.
“What’s the matter?” Holly asked as she unwound her hair from her bun.
“Just a little tired is all.” Noelle placed more product into a crate.
Jesse pushed a cart by, loaded with three bookcases. Noelle ducked her head so she didn’t have to say hello.
“What is going on with you two?” Holly crossed the aisle and stepped into the booth.
“Nothing,” Noelle whispered.
“Oh, I get it.” Holly had her hands on her hips and spoke loudly. “It’s a taboo topic, right?”
Noelle nodded.
“Which means you two used to—what do you call it? Court?”
Noelle nodded again.
Holly dropped her voice to a whisper. “I can’t blame you. He’s gorgeous.”
Noelle’s face grew warm.
“Okay, okay, I’ll knock it off. I know I can be incorrigible. Carlos tells me so all the time.” Holly’s brown eyes danced. “Give me a box. I’ll help you pack.”
Instead of dropping her off at the Dawdi Haus, Noelle asked Carlos to take her to the new house.
“How many houses are on this property?” he asked.
“Just the three,” Noelle answered.
Holly’s voice wavered uncharacteristically. “Do you realize how lucky you are? To live right next to family?”
Noelle hadn’t given it much thought. Every Amish person she knew lived near family. “I don’t live close to all of my relatives,” she said. “I live with my Dat. Salome and her husband and their daughter live in the Dawdi Haus, while my nephew Paul and LuAnne and their kids live in the big house. My other seven sisters and their families are scattered all over the county, and a couple live in Chester County.”
Holly whistled. “There are nine girls in your family?”
“Jah,” Noelle answered.
“How many brothers do you have?”
“No brothers.”
Holly jabbed Carlos. “Lucky.” By her voice, Noelle could tell she was teasing.
“Do the two of you have other siblings?” Noelle asked.
Carlos shook his head. “It’s just us.” He jabbed Holly back. “Although I prayed she’d be a brother.”
“You prayed that when you were two years old? I don’t think so.” She laughed. “But nice try.”
Holly and Carlos helped Noelle carry her boxes again. After they’d put everything down in the entryway, Holly pulled a white box of mini chocolates from her coat pocket and gave it to Noelle, who, in return, gave her a cherry pie.
“Thanks!” Holly gave her a quick hug, and Noelle forced herself to hug her back. She wasn’t used to hugging anyone. Not even her parents.
“Noelle, is that you?” Dat came padding down the hall.
“Jah, Dat. And my friends, Holly and Carlos. They gave me a ride.”
Dat leaned on his cane as he reached the three of them and then shook Carlos’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” Dat said. But he didn’t thank them for their help.
“See you tomorrow!” Holly said as she headed to the door. “And count on us giving you a ride home again.”
“Thank you,” Noelle said.
After the two had left but before Noelle could even take off her coat, Dat asked exactly who Holly and Carlos were.
“They have a booth at the market. Well, Holly does. Carlos drops her off and picks her up. Salome knows them.”
“But why are they giving you a ride home?”
“They offered,” Noelle said. “It saves us money.”
“What do you know about them?”
Noelle exhaled. What was Dat getting at? “They live here in Lancaster County. They both go to the community college. Their mother went to help their grandmother.”
“So they’re unsupervised?”
“They’re living on their own.” Noelle frowned. “Oh, and they go to a Mennonite church.”
Dat harrumphed. “A liberal one, if they go at all.”
“Why would they lie about that?”
Dat shuffled toward his chair. “Maybe they want to win your trust.”
She wasn’t used to challenging Dat, not like some of her sisters had through the years. Instead of saying anything more, even though she longed to, she washed her hands and focused on their supper. She heated up the stew from the night before even though Dat hated leftovers. She couldn’t work all day at the market and fix supper too. He’d have to make do.
He didn’t complain, but he didn’t thank her either. In fact, he didn’t speak at all through the entire meal.
After she’d cleaned up the dishes, she opened up the box of chocolates from Holly. They were miniature candles. Noelle offered one to Dat. He popped it in his mouth and then said, “How about another one?”
She smiled, took one for herself, and gave him the box.
The chocolate was good—even better than the Advent
calendar chocolates. There were nine in the box, and Holly sold them for six dollars. Noelle couldn’t imagine that the ingredients cost much or that making the chocolates took too much time. Jah, the boxes and packaging cost something, but Holly was making good money, especially considering how many she sold.
LuAnne had bought two boxes of chocolates, which was a significant amount of money for her. If a frugal Amish housewife would spend twelve dollars on mini chocolates, what would an Englisch woman spend on . . .
Noelle didn’t need to do any baking that night, but she would anyway. She had an idea she couldn’t ignore.
CHAPTER FOUR
Noelle arrived bleary-eyed at the market the next morning. She led the way, carrying a cardboard box, while Pamela trailed behind with more on the dolly. As Noelle turned down the aisle toward her booth, she heard Jesse’s laugh before she saw him.
Then Holly’s.
She groaned.
The two were at Holly’s booth, chatting away.
Once Noelle had all of the product in the booth, she started pulling out the boxes of mini whoopie pies she’d made the night before. Jesse, without saying anything to her, returned to his booth.
But Holly craned her neck and then scurried across the aisle. “What in the world?”
Noelle held up one of the boxes. She’d packed a dozen in a box, visible through the clear lid, and then tied a red ribbon around it.
“Those are so cute,” Holly gushed. “What a great idea.”
“I got it from you,” Noelle admitted.
Holly cocked her head questioningly.
“From your mini chocolates.” She lowered her voice. “The ones Englischers are happy to pay top dollar for.”
Holly threw back her head and laughed. “Glad my marketing is helping yours.”
“Well, we’ll have to see how I do.”
The bells rang and soon the first of the customers started coming through. Within the first half hour, Noelle had sold three of the boxes of the mini whoopie pies. Soon after that, Steve, the manager, came by. “I thought you might be the purveyor of those little wonders.” He nodded toward the whoopie pies as he reached for his wallet.
“I’ll give you a box of them,” Noelle said.
“Oh no you won’t.” He pulled out a bill. “If Salome found out, she’d be after me. You giving me that pie was more than you should have.” He handed her a ten. “Keep the change.”
“Denki,” Noelle said. She was selling the mini whoopie pie boxes for eight dollars each, which seemed absurd. If they didn’t all sell, she’d lower the price tomorrow.
“I have to say . . .” Steve held the box close. “That apple pie you gave me was delicious. My wife said to tell you thank you.”
“I’m glad she liked it.”
He held up the mini whoopie pies. “My girls are going to love these too.”
Noelle smiled as he continued walking by. He seemed like a nice man, and as if he’d be a good father. And husband.
By noon she’d sold all of the boxes of whoopie pies. After that she sold a few more pies and batches of sticky buns but not much. At quitting time, she counted her money. She’d definitely had her best day yet. She’d go home and make more of the whoopie pies—and maybe some other “mini” items too.
When Holly and Carlos dropped her off, she simply said she could carry the boxes. Perhaps Dat’s behavior from the night before had been obvious because Holly stayed in the truck while Carlos helped her carry her boxes, but he left them outside the door. She thanked him and then began moving them inside one at a time.
Dat slept in his chair, his white hair and beard both tousled. She stared at him for a long moment. She knew that men often declined in health after their wives died. Was that happening with Dat? It seemed he was sleeping more and eating less. Except for the chocolate the night before, he hadn’t had much of an appetite.
She took off her coat and heated supper before waking him.
“Dat,” she said, “time to eat.” He stirred but didn’t open his eyes. She put a hand on his shoulder. He still didn’t open his eyes.
She stared at his chest as she yelled, “Dat!” Again he stirred and his chest rose and fell, just a little. He wasn’t dead. But she couldn’t wake him either.
She dashed to the front door, grabbed her coat, stepped into her boots, and then rushed out the door, wishing Carlos and Holly were still outside. But of course they weren’t. Should she go to Salome’s? Or the phone shed? The shed was closer, so she chose it.
She’d never called 9-1-1 before, but Dat had called it for Mamm when she’d had her first stroke. After Noelle dialed and the dispatcher answered, she quickly told the woman on the line what was wrong and what their address was. The dispatcher said an ambulance would be there as soon as possible.
When Noelle hung up, she knew it was likely that summoning EMTs meant Dat would have to go to the hospital, a place to which she’d never wanted to return. She inhaled sharply as she continued on to Salome’s. When she arrived, she burst through the front door and quickly explained what happened and that the EMTs were on their way.
“He was fine earlier today,” Salome said. “I’ll grab the smelling salts. Hopefully he’ll revive before they arrive.”
Without answering her sister, Noelle hurried back out the door, stumbling as she rushed toward the lane. She caught herself before she fell and continued on in the ruts of refrozen snow along the edge of the lane.
As she reached the new house, red lights fell over the snow, coming from the opposite direction. She left the door open for the EMTs as she rushed into the house. “Dat!” she called out.
Once more he stirred and tried to open his eyes but nothing happened. She hadn’t realized her sister was right behind her until Salome said, “Why didn’t you close the door? Were you born in a barn?”
“I left it open for the EMTs.”
“They might be Englischers, but I’m pretty sure they know how to open a door.” Salome’s usual cynical humor seemed to Noelle to be rather inappropriate, considering what bad shape Dat was in.
Salome held the smelling salts up to Dat’s nose. He jerked away and then opened his eyes as two EMTs came through the door, quickly introducing themselves.
“I’m Jeff,” the older one said.
“And I’m Brent,” the younger one added. “Tell us about the patient and what’s going on,” he said as they gathered around Dat and placed their bags on the floor.
Salome held up the smelling salts. “These did the trick.”
“How about if we check him out?” Brent asked. “Take his blood pressure. Pulse. That sort of thing.”
Noelle nodded.
Jeff knelt down by Dat’s chair. “Sir, how are you feeling?”
“Poorly,” Dat said. “Been tired all day, and I fell earlier.”
“Was anyone with you when that happened?”
Dat shook his head.
Noelle’s face grew warm. She shouldn’t have left him alone.
Jeff glanced from Salome to Noelle. “Do both of you live here?”
Salome shook her head. “Just my sister. I live down the lane.”
“I was working at the Christmas Market all day. I just got home.” Noelle’s voice shook as she spoke. “I thought Dat was just sleeping in his chair, but when I tried to wake him I couldn’t.”
Brent took a blood pressure cuff out of his bag while Jeff explained to Dat what they were going to do. After Brent took Dat’s blood pressure, he said it was ninety over sixty. “That’s low and could explain why you fell. And perhaps why your daughter couldn’t wake you.”
Brent moved his hand down to Dat’s wrist to check his pulse. “Did you hit your head?”
“I do not believe so.”
Brent dropped his hand from Dat’s wrist and turned to Jeff. “I’m concerned about this irregular heartbeat.” He turned back to Dat. “Do you mind if I check for a bump from when you fell?”
“Of course not,” Dat answered.
Brent examined Dat’s head and then said, “You have a goose egg on the back of your head. We should take you into the hospital and have a doctor examine you.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dat said.
“It is.” Noelle touched his arm. “We need to find out what’s wrong.”
Salome stepped back and brushed her hands together. “You’ll need to go with him.”
The thought of going with Dat alone worried Noelle. “What about talking with the doctors?”
“You’ll manage just fine,” Salome said.
“How will we get home?”
Salome shrugged. “Call Pamela, although it might be the middle of the night.”
Noelle stepped back beside Salome. “What if Pamela can’t get us?”
“I suppose you can take a taxi, but it will be expensive.”
Noelle still had the cash from the market in her purse. She’d use that. “What about the market tomorrow? Do you feel up to doing it?”
“Not with my back the way it is.”
“What about Moriah?”
Salome shook her head. “She’s in no shape to do it either . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Can you call someone else in the family and see if they can take over for one day?”
Salome wrinkled her nose. “No one else has been involved in the business for years. We can’t expect someone to take over just like that. I’ll call Steve and tell him our booth will be empty.”
Noelle’s eyes burned. Salome was right. It wasn’t as if any of their sisters or nieces lived in their district or knew anything about the business. She didn’t want to lose a day of sales, but she didn’t know what else to do. “All right.” She headed for the coatrack and grabbed both Dat’s coat and hers.
Jeff had left the house but now returned with a gurney. Noelle held the door open for him.
As Salome approached, she sighed and muttered, “I’m sure he can walk.”
Noelle didn’t respond, but she did grab Dat’s cane, grateful for the reminder. He’d need it once he was discharged.
Dat had no signs of a brain injury, so the emergency doctor didn’t order a CT scan, but he did order an EKG because Dat’s heartbeat was irregular. When the doctor came in again, he said the EKG showed Dat’s heart was enlarged. “And you have fluid in your lungs too,” he said. “You need to see a cardiologist.” He gave Dat a piece of paper with a name and a number on it. “Call on Monday,” he said. “And get in as soon as possible.”