by Amy Clipston
Please, God. Soften Freeman’s heart toward me. I can’t lose Christiana. I need her in my life. Please pave the way for us.
* * *
Christiana’s smile faltered as her parents walked back into her booth with frowns lining their faces. Their bleak expressions sent a mixture of trepidation and anguish through her, and as the group of ladies left, she was glad the market seemed unusually quiet.
“Did you sell a lot of whoopie pies?” Mamm’s smile looked forced.
“I sold five sampler boxes.” Christiana divided a look between her parents, taking in her father’s frown and her mother’s wobbling smile. “Did you talk to Jeff?”
“I did.” Dat crossed his arms over his chest. “You will not be riding home with him tonight.”
Christiana felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Why not, Dat?”
“We’ll discuss it later.” Dat turned to Mamm. “Let’s go, Lynn.”
“Wait.” Christiana grabbed her father’s arm. “Please tell me. Why am I not allowed to get a ride from him? You approved of him on Sunday.” She glanced at her mother for support, but Mamm looked down at the floor. “Why did you change your mind, Dat? I don’t understand.”
“I said we’ll discuss this later, in private.” Dat enunciated each word as if Christiana were four years old. “We’re going home now.” He looked over his shoulder. “Phoebe, we’re leaving.”
Phoebe came to stand beside Christiana, looking determined. “I’d like to stay and help Christiana.”
Dat studied her. “Why?”
“Because I enjoy helping mei schweschder when the shop’s busy.” Phoebe’s smile was too bright as she touched Christiana’s arm, and she hoped her father didn’t realize the booth was devoid of customers for a change. “I’ll come home with her, okay?”
“Let her stay, Freeman,” Mamm’s voice pleaded. “Please.”
Christiana looked at each of her family members, taking in their strained expressions. Her heart sank. Something had happened in Jeff’s booth, and she was determined to find out what before she went home. She balled her hands into fists as she awaited her father’s verdict on whether her sister could stay.
Just then a young couple who looked like tourists stepped into her booth.
Christiana turned toward them and forced her lips into a smile. “Hello. How are you?” Her voice squeaked with anxiety. “May I help you find something?”
“Hello,” the woman said. “We’re looking for shoofly pies.”
“The pies are over there.” Christiana pointed toward the other side of the booth. “I’ll be right there to help you.”
“Thank you,” the woman said.
“Let Phoebe stay, Freeman,” Mamm repeated, her voice low and determined.
“Fine.” Dat pointed his fierce expression at Christiana. “You come right home when the market closes tonight. You have my driver bring you home. We’ll talk then.”
“Ya, Dat.” Christiana’s shoulders sagged.
With a curt nod, her father walked out of the booth. Mamm gave Christiana a sad look and then trailed after him.
Christiana turned to her sister and whispered, “What on earth happened in Jeff’s booth?”
Phoebe placed her hand on Christiana’s forearm and leaned in close. “I’ll tell you everything after these people leave.” She nodded toward the customers who were looking over the pies. “Go help them.”
* * *
Christiana rubbed at a tense muscle in her neck as she sat on a stool at her counter. The couple was gone, buying nearly all of her shoofly pies plus a raspberry angel food cake. “So Dat is upset because Jeff uses electricity to make his leather gifts? That’s why he won’t let me ride home with him?”
Phoebe gave her a solemn nod. “He was outraged, Christiana. I was stunned. Jeff tried to justify it by saying that the market is owned by an Englisher and that Bethany uses electricity in her booth.”
“But that didn’t help?”
“No, it didn’t.” Jeff appeared behind Phoebe, his handsome face twisted with a deep frown. “I’m so sorry, Christy. I tried to smooth it over, but everything I said was wrong.”
“Christy?” Phoebe divided a look between them. “He calls you Christy?”
Christiana shook her head, ignoring her sister’s question. “Mei dat was determined that I not use electricity when I moved my business here, but I never realized he would care that the man I liked used it.” She looked at Phoebe. “Did you stay to warn me?”
“Ya. And I wanted to help you come up with a plan to change Dat’s mind.”
Christiana looked at Jeff. “Can you convert your machine to operate with an air compressor or maybe a power inverter?”
“Ya.” Jeff nodded. “Would that help?”
“Maybe.” Christiana looked at Phoebe. “Do you have any other suggestions for how to convince Dat?”
Phoebe shrugged. “Tell him how you feel. Convince him that Jeff is the one and maybe he’ll listen.”
“What if I take you home tonight?” Jeff offered. “I could apologize and tell him that I’ll do anything to win back his confidence.”
“No,” Christiana and Phoebe said in unison, and Jeff winced.
“I’m sorry, but he specifically told me that I can’t accept a ride from you,” Christiana said. “He doesn’t want me to bring you to the haus.”
“I’ll be there when you talk to Dat,” Phoebe said.
“But if you try to defend me, you’ll be in trouble too. You know how he gets when he’s made a decision.” Christiana rubbed her temple where a headache began to throb. “Mamm doesn’t even go against him, so it’s not a gut idea for you to try.” She smiled at her younger sister. “But I appreciate how you support me. It means a lot.”
“I’m rooting for you two.” Phoebe gave them a bleak smile. “I want to see you together.”
Christiana looked at Jeff as her dream of being his girlfriend started to dissolve. In the back of her mind, she worried that she’d lost him before they even had a chance.
22
Christiana’s body shook like a leaf in a hurricane as she and Phoebe pushed the baker’s racks up the ramp her father had built off the back porch. She halted by the back door.
“Everything will be fine,” Phoebe insisted for the twentieth time since they’d left the market, but Christiana was certain her sister was wrong. Nothing would be okay, because Dat was going to forbid her from seeing Jeff ever again. She knew her father too well to believe otherwise. Once Dat made up his mind, there was no discussing the subject any further.
“Just tell Dat that Jeff already said he’d stop using electricity,” Phoebe continued. “I’ll back you up.”
“That’s as gut a plan as any,” Christiana said. She squared her shoulders and walked through the mudroom to the kitchen, where her father and mother already sat at the table.
Christiana took a deep breath before addressing her parents. “What do you want to discuss, Dat?” She tried to mask the tremble in her voice.
“I assume your schweschder already told you.”
Christiana looked at Phoebe, who gave her a reassuring nod, and then turned back to Dat. “Phoebe told me you were upset because Jeff uses electricity in his booth.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Dat’s voice rose. “I’m furious you would be interested in a man who uses electricity at all. You know it’s forbidden in our culture.”
“Ya, but he uses it only at the market.” Christiana pointed to her chest as frustration gripped her. “I work there, too, and I use the electric lights to see when I’m working.” She pointed to her sister. “Phoebe has freinden who work at a bakery that’s owned by an Englisher. They use the ovens and the electric cash register to do their jobs. They even have air-conditioning in the summer. How is that different?”
“It’s very different.” Dat stood. “Jeff uses electricity to make goods to sell. He’s using the Englisher ways to make a profit. That’s the start of a dangerous road.�
�� He began counting off a list on his fingers. “Soon he’ll install electricity in his home, and then he’ll wear fancy clothes. Then he’ll get a driver’s license and drive a car. I can’t risk allowing mei dochder to be exposed to that.”
“Are you kidding?” Christiana searched her father’s eyes for any sign of a joke. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious.”
“Bethany uses electricity to run her coffeepots, and she doesn’t dress English or drive a car. She’s just as Amish as we are.” Christiana’s voice rose as her body shook. “Why aren’t you accusing Bethany of being too English?”
Dat wagged a finger at her. “Bethany has nothing to do with this. I’m concerned only about you, and you are not to see this man again.”
“But he’s Amish just like us.” She gestured around the kitchen as anger thickened her voice. “He lives in an Amish home he built himself. He doesn’t have electricity or fancy items. His haus looks just like ours, only it isn’t brick.”
“You’ve been in his haus?” Dat’s voice boomed. “Alone?”
“No. When I was at his parents’ haus after church on Sunday, I could see his from their back porch. He comes from a traditional Amish home. He’s never given me any indication he’s unhappy with his life or that he wants to leave the church.”
“Trust me,” Dat said. “This is only the beginning. Now that he’s had a taste of the Englisher life, he will eventually leave the church. If I allow you to see him, he’ll try to take you with him.”
“No, Dat.” She nearly yelled the words. “I know Jeff, and he isn’t interested in leaving the faith. We’ve spent a lot of time together during the past couple of months. We’ve eaten lunch together, and we talk about everything from our families to our hopes and dreams. I feel like I know him well.”
Christiana spoke quickly, her words tripping over one another. “He wants to stay Amish. In fact, he wants to date me. We care about each other, and we both want to be Amish. We both are faithful to the church, and we wouldn’t risk our beliefs for anything.”
“You will not date him.” Dat pointed toward the back door, as if Jeff were on the back porch, waiting to whisk her away.
“But I want to,” she insisted, her voice growing thin. “I care about him, and he cares about me. You can’t forbid me from seeing him.”
“Ya, I can, and you will not defy me.” Dat’s voice rose again. “You are to stay away from him. No more lunches together. No visits at all. Your relationship with him is over as of right now. Do you understand?”
“Please, no.” Christiana shook her head as her eyes filled with furious tears. “You have to listen to me.” She folded her hands as in a plea. “Jeff understands that you disapprove of his use of electricity. He told Phoebe and me that he’ll stop using it to win your favor. Right, Phoebe?” She turned to her sister, who nodded with such vigor that the ties from her prayer covering bounced off her shoulders. “He’ll convert to a power inverter or even use an air compressor at the market.”
“No.” Dat shook his head. “Jeff has already exposed himself to another way. It’s too late.”
“Please be reasonable, Dat.” Christiana held out her hands as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Why don’t you give him a chance to prove himself? Let him convert to another method of powering his machine and then let him visit us. He can come to church with us next Sunday and then visit our home. He can spend the afternoon here, and you can talk to him more. If you get to know him, Dat, you’ll really like him. Mamm already likes him. She was there when he helped us set up my booth on the first day. He even caught Chester before he fell when he was trying to hang a sign. Then he taught Chester how to fix the shelves in my booth. He’s a gut, solid Christian man.”
Christiana looked to her mother for help. “Right, Mamm? You like him. Won’t Dat like him?”
Mamm’s eyes widened, and she shook her head as if warning Christiana to not push her father any further.
“Christiana!” Dat’s voice echoed in the large kitchen, and she jumped. “I already told you. You will not see him. No more discussion.”
A sob broke free from Christiana’s throat. Her hands trembled as she held them up. “Please, Dat. I care for him. I think I may even be falling in love with him.”
Mamm covered her face with her hands, and Phoebe rubbed Christiana’s shoulder.
“You can’t do this to me,” Christiana said, pleading. “I’ve finally found a man who cares about me. I can see myself building a future with him. I care deeply for him. I feel as if God sent me to the market to meet him. I don’t know if Mamm told you about Jeff losing his fiancée, but I’ve helped him deal with that. He’s made me realize that I’m worthy of a future too. You can’t just tell me—”
“Ya, I can tell you what to do, and I am telling you what to do.” Dat seemed to growl. “You are mei dochder, and it’s my job to protect you from the English world. This is why I didn’t want you to go to the market in the first place! I wanted to shield you from members of our community who say they’re Amish and then fall into the ways of the world.”
“He is Amish.” She heard a meekness in her voice as she wiped away her tears.
“He’s not a real Amish man! Real Amish men do not use electricity!” Dat bellowed.
“That’s not true.” Christiana shook her head. “Onkel Lamar is our bishop, and he has never told Salina that she can’t have a booth at the market. He allows his dochder to be there, just like he allows Leanna and Bethany to keep their booths there.”
“Christiana, this discussion is over,” Dat said.
“But it can’t be,” Christiana said, fighting a sob.
Phoebe handed Christiana a paper napkin, and Christiana wiped her eyes and nose as she tried to control her emotions.
“You will not see Jeff again. If you do, I will forbid you from going to the market at all. Is that clear?”
“Ya, Dat,” Christiana nearly whispered.
“Gut.” Dat turned to Mamm. “Let’s eat. I have work to do in the barn tonight.”
Christiana’s heart crumbled as she helped her mother and sister deliver fried chicken, noodles, and green beans to the table. With her stomach in knots, she forced herself to eat a few bites as her parents talked about mundane events of the day. She couldn’t understand how her dat could carry on as though he hadn’t just ruined the only chance at love she’d ever had.
When the meal was over, Dat disappeared outside. Christiana’s head pounded as she helped clear the table and then started washing dishes. As her sister wiped down the table and her mother swept the floor, the large kitchen was quiet except for the familiar sounds of their work.
Mamm finally broke through the silence as Christiana washed the last serving platter. “Your daed only wants what’s best for you. He has your best interest in mind.”
Christiana dropped a dish back into the sink and spun to face her mother. “But he’s breaking my heart. I’m falling in love with Jeff. He’s a gut, Christian man, and he cares about me. He’s not breaking any rules by using electricity at the market. Just like I’m not breaking any rules working there. Why can’t Dat see that?” She tossed the green pad she’d held into the hot water and even with wet hands hugged her arms to her chest as if to shield her aching heart.
“Your dat has his reasons,” Mamm said.
“What are they?” Christiana asked, demanding an answer. “None of this makes sense! Bethany uses electricity in her booth, but Dat refused to answer me when I mentioned it.”
“He’s not worried about Bethany.” Mamm pointed at Christiana. “He’s worried about you.”
“But you know me. I’ve never done anything that would put me in jeopardy of being shunned or embarrassing you and Dat. Why doesn’t he trust me?”
Mamm shook her head. “You know I can’t go against your dat. My hands are tied.”
“What am I going to do?” Christiana covered her face with her hands as fresh tears flowed down her cheeks.
“How do you know it’s not Jeff?” Christiana stepped out of her mother’s embrace. “How do you know Jeff isn’t the one and Dat is making a big mistake?”
“You can’t doubt your dat. He takes gut care of us.” Mamm returned to sweeping the floor. “He’s never led us astray, so you need to accept his decision.”
Christiana gritted her teeth. If Dat knew what was best for her, why did she feel like she was drowning in grief?
Letting go of Jeff wouldn’t hurt so much if it were the right thing to do.
* * *
Later that evening, Christiana sat on her bed and tried to read the Christian novel she’d started last week. But after reading the same paragraph several times, she still couldn’t comprehend the meaning.
Her thoughts were tangled, and her grief nearly choked her. How could she say good-bye to Jeff? How could she even consider finding someone new when he had carved out a piece of her heart?
“How are you feeling?”
Christiana looked up at her sister, who stood in the doorway clad in a pink nightgown. Her thick, light-brown hair hung in waves to her small waist.
“I don’t know.” Christiana’s voice was hoarse from crying. She’d taken a shower and then curled up on her bed and cried until she’d run out of tears. “I’m so angry and bedauerlich and distraught. I don’t know how I’m going to say good-bye to Jeff tomorrow. He’s important to me.” She looked down at the cover of the book. “I care for him more than I’ve cared for any other man.”
Phoebe stepped into the room and perched on the edge of Christiana’s bed. “Did you mean it when you said you think you love him?”