by Amy Clipston
He shrugged. “It’s sort of a new hobby.”
“When did you start doing that?”
He opened his mouth to tell her it was after Adam died, but he couldn’t form the words.
She sat down on the stool beside him and brushed her long, slender fingers over his work. “This is fantastic. Do you sell them?”
“I’ve sold a few.” And added the profits to the savings that will take me away from here.
“You’re quite talented.” She smiled at him, and warmth filled his chest.
He looked down at the table to avoid her gaze. “It’s just something I do to clear my head after a long day.”
“Quilting is like that for me.” She looked down at her quilt and ran her hand over the fabric, which included different shades of purple and blue. It was a Lonestar pattern from what he could see, and it looked as if it had been stitched with care. But that was what he’d expect from Alice. She’d always handled her life—and her friendships—with care.
“Whenever I have a bad day, I look forward to sewing. It always makes me feel better.” She met his gaze and held it. “Is that what metalworking is for you? A stress reliever?” She watched him as she waited for his response.
He took in her expectant expression, her kind eyes, her pretty face. He could almost feel her begging him to talk to her.
And why shouldn’t he talk to her? This was Alice, the maedel he’d longed to date. But now as he looked at her, he felt tongue-tied, lost, confused.
Her smile wobbled, and he felt guilty. He needed to say something against the awkward silence that felt like a giant chasm expanding between them.
“Your quilt is schee.” He pointed to it. “Is that a gift for someone? Or are you going to sell it?”
“Oh.” She seemed surprised by the compliment as she looked down at it. “I’ll probably sell it. We send quilts to auction, and we also sell them at the farmers market in Bird-in-Hand.” She unfolded part of it and smoothed it onto her lap. “It’s a Lonestar.”
“The colors are nice.”
“Danki.” Her smile was back as she folded the quilt. “So, Dave, we’re all getting together to help with a meal for Englishers and then sing at Sharon’s tomorrow night. You could come with us.”
He fought to keep the dismay from his face. Serving a meal together would be bad enough, but singing in front of strangers as though they were all still friends?
“You know how the tourists like to book meals in an Amish home so they can learn more about our culture.”
He blinked and then shook his head. “Thanks for inviting me, but I have too much work to do.” He gestured around the shop, even though his ironwork was more of a hobby than a job.
“It’s fun. We started singing for Englishers in the spring, and we’re trying to get more freinden involved. The food is gut too. We get to eat the leftovers.” She gave a little laugh that sounded more forced than genuine.
Was Alice nervous around him? Before the accident, they could discuss almost anything. But now they were sitting here staring at each other like acquaintances, not lifelong friends.
“Why don’t you stop by Sharon’s after work, Dave? You might enjoy it.”
He raised an eyebrow as he studied her. “Did Cal tell you to invite me?”
“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“He used to try to invite me to come to things, too, after . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence. And he’d already said too much. He needed her to leave. “I don’t want to be anyone’s pet project.”
She hesitated. “I don’t know what you mean. It was my idea to invite you.”
“Why?”
“Because I miss you. I mean, we all miss you.”
The emotion in her eyes was too much for him. “You should go.” He looked down at his workbench.
“Okay.” Her voice was small, tentative. “Good-bye.”
“Bye.” He kept his eyes focused on the worktable until she was gone. Then he blew out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
He rested his elbows on his knees, chin on his palms, and recalled how close to Alice he’d once felt. If only he could find that level of intimacy with her again.
But even if she were the same, he would never be the same. Never.
Never just felt like such a long time.
* * *
“I think that was a gut supper,” Sharon said as she carried the last empty platter to the counter. Alice had heard her send her mother to the family room, telling her they had plenty of help for cleanup even though Darlene couldn’t come, and she deserved to relax.
“Ya, it was gut. And the food was great.” Ruby Sue, Sharon’s younger sister, finished wiping down the folding tables as Jay, Cal, and Andrew dealt with the folding chairs. “I love spaghetti and meatball casserole as much as Englishers seem to, and the corn, salad, and peanut butter pie were great too. You and Mamm outdid yourselves—again.”
Alice found the dustpan and broom in the utility room and began sweeping the kitchen floor. As she worked, she hummed “Amazing Grace”—one of the songs they’d sung to the guests—and her thoughts wrapped around Dave. He’d rather rudely asked her to leave his workshop yesterday, but she still couldn’t get his sad face out of her mind.
“Alice?”
“Ya?” Alice looked up to where Jay stood beside her, balancing a chair under each arm. “Oops! Am I in your way?”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “I almost walked into you.”
“He’s being nice,” Sharon chimed in from where she stood at the sink, about to wash dishes. “You almost walked into him.”
Alice’s cheeks heated as everyone looked at her. “I’m sorry.”
“You okay?” Ruby Sue asked as she hung her wet dishcloth to dry.
“Ya.” She stooped to sweep a pile of crumbs into the dustpan. “I talked to Dave yesterday. I invited him to come tonight, but he said he couldn’t because he had work to do, which I know was just an excuse. I tried to convince him to even come late, but he refused.”
Cal stopped folding chairs and looked at her. “Really?”
“He asked me if it was your idea to invite him.”
“Huh. Well, like you, I tried to talk him into hanging out with us after the accident, but he never would. He told me to leave him alone, so I backed off. I know I said I gave up on him when he wouldn’t talk to me, but it was more like I didn’t know what else to do.” Cal returned to the chairs.
“He told me he didn’t want to be anyone’s pet project. Do you know what he meant by that?”
Cal turned around again. “I’m not sure, but the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I pushed him too hard when he kept telling me he was fine.”
Alice fingered the handle of the broom as she again recalled the anguish she’d seen in Dave’s face. “I keep getting the feeling he needs me to reach out to him. Like he doesn’t want me to give up on him, even though he’s pushing me away.”
Cal shook his head. “It’s nice that you invited him to one of these suppers, but I don’t think he’ll ever come. When I tried talking to him, he was adamant that he needed space. That accident changed him.”
“That’s so bedauerlich,” Sharon said.
Ruby Sue clucked her tongue as she joined Sharon to dry dishes.
“I feel so bad for him.” Jay started folding the legs of the first table.
As Alice returned to sweeping, she silently vowed not to give up on Dave no matter what. In her heart, she knew he needed a friend, and she would keep trying until he once again allowed her to be that friend.
When the kitchen was clean, Alice said good night to her friends and then started down the street to her farm, a flashlight guiding her way through the dark as fireflies glittered around her.
Above her, the sky was dotted with bright stars, and the cicadas sang their nightly chorus. Her mind still swirled with questions. She’d heard what Cal said, but how could he stop trying to reach Dave when they’d been be
st friends for years? Couldn’t he tell Dave needed his friendship now more than ever?
But at the same time, Alice understood why he might have stopped trying. After all, Dave’s rejection last night had cut her to the bone. Perhaps he’d hurt Cal just as much, if not more.
As Alice made her way up her rock driveway, she spotted a flashlight bobbing toward the house. She quickened her steps to catch up with her older brother as he headed toward the porch. With his dark hair and eyes, they were easily identified as siblings despite their three-year age difference. At least, that’s what Sharon had once told Alice. Benji was just a few inches taller than Alice, and his broad shoulders boasted his hard work as a dairy farmer.
“Benji. Isn’t it late for you to be feeding the horses?” she asked as she fell into step with him.
“I just got home from Joyce’s haus. Were you at Sharon’s?”
“Ya. How is Joyce?”
Benji’s smile was wide. “She’s gut.”
“Have you proposed yet?”
He blew out a sigh. “You know I need to build her a haus first. Maybe in a couple of years.”
Alice smiled at the thought of someday calling Joyce Petersheim her sister-in-law. Benji had been dating her for four years now, and even though Joyce was three years older than Alice, she’d always gone out of her way to talk to Alice as if they were the same age. She considered Joyce a friend, and she looked forward to officially welcoming her into the family.
“Could I ask your advice?” Alice asked when they’d reached the top porch step.
“Sure.” Benji turned toward her.
“How can I convince someone to trust me?”
Benji smirked. “Could you be a little more specific?”
“You know what happened to Dave Esh, right?”
He frowned. “Of course I do. Everyone heard about what happened. Terrible tragedy.”
“Well, Dave and I have always been gut freinden. But after the accident, he pulled away from me and the rest of our freinden.” She shared how she and the others had reached out to him, inviting him to join them for activities, but he’d rejected them again and again. “How can I encourage Dave to open up to me? He acts like he doesn’t even trust me anymore.”
Benji leaned back on the porch railing and rubbed his chin. “I think you need to keep doing what you’ve been doing. Keep inviting him.”
“Even though he keeps rejecting me?”
“Ya, don’t give up on him. God doesn’t give up on us, right?”
“Right.”
“Then we shouldn’t give up on each other when we’re struggling.” Benji pointed at her. “If you keep inviting him, eventually he’ll realize that you’re a freind he needs. And someday soon, he’ll accept your invitation. Would you like me to ask Joyce what she thinks? Confidentially, of course.”
“Ya. Danki.” Hope lit in her chest as she entered the house, imagining the moment Dave would finally return to their group of friends, even though she still didn’t know why he was so determined to be alone in his sorrow. Until then, she’d seek him out and keep reminding him he was always welcome to join them.
Chapter Four
The following Wednesday afternoon, Dave paid for his club sandwich and bottle of water before pocketing his change, taking the paper bag containing his lunch, and heading toward the restaurant exit. He’d been so exhausted this morning that he’d failed to pick up the lunch his mother packed for him. He’d told her dozens of times that he could make his own lunch, but she insisted she was packing one for Dat anyway.
“Dave!”
Turning, Dave almost walked right into Cal and his younger brother, Raymond.
Cal’s smile was bright, almost too bright. “How are you?”
“Fine. Gut to see you.” Dave gave them each a nod and then started toward the exit again.
“Hang on, Dave!”
Dave halted and closed his eyes as he bit back a groan. He just wanted to eat his lunch in peace before going back to the sweltering worksite. He swiveled toward Cal and Ray again. “Ya?”
“How have you been?” Cal gave him a tentative smile as if he worried Dave would turn and bolt through the door. “We haven’t talked in a while.”
“I’ve been busy.” Dave gripped the paper bag tighter. “You?”
“Gut.” Cal cleared his throat as he glanced at his brother and then back at Dave. “We’ve all missed you.”
Dave’s eyes narrowed as frustration sizzled through him. “So I’ve heard. Did you tell Alice to invite me to sing at Sharon’s supper last week?”
“No.” Cal shook his head as his expression seemed to fill with surprise. “That was Alice’s idea, but we all would like you to come hang out with us again. I think it would be gut for you.”
The pity in Cal’s face sent Dave’s anger surging. “As I told Alice, I don’t want to be anyone’s pet project.”
Cal frowned. “That makes no sense. You’re not a pet project. You’re our freind, and freinden care about each other.”
“When did you start caring so much?”
Cal leaned in and lowered his voice as customers squeezed past them. “I’ve always cared, Dave. You’re the one who pushed us all away.” He turned to Ray. “Let’s go.” He looked back at Dave. “We’ll all still be here when you realize you need us.” Then he turned and strode toward the counter with Ray at his side.
Dave stared after his former best friend for a moment and then headed out to the waiting work truck. As he climbed into the back, Cal’s words echoed in his mind. If he had pushed his friends away, it was for good reason. He didn’t need their pity or their judgment.
Besides, none of them—especially Alice—had any idea what it would be like to spend time with the man he’d become. Maybe they really were just a bunch of do-gooders as he suspected when he told Alice and then Cal he didn’t want to be a pet project. They needed to leave him alone. And the sooner he left, the better.
* * *
Alice stood at the sink and washed a supper plate later that evening. She’d spent the day cleaning and quilting as thoughts of Dave plagued her. She’d tried to come up with a plan to get him to join them for a singing, but her only idea was to go back to his house for another afternoon of quilting so she could at least talk to him just as Benji advised.
Of course, he might show her the door again, but she was determined not to surrender to his rejections.
“You look so serious. What are you thinking about?” Mamm asked as she lifted a handful of clean utensils from the rinse water.
Alice looked sideways so Mamm could see she was okay, but, yes, she was serious. “I was wondering if we could plan another quilting bee at Annie’s haus.”
“So you can try to talk to Dave again? Maybe issue another invitation?”
“Ya. I asked Benji for advice, and he suggested I keep trying.”
Mamm smiled. “I have an idea. You know that quilt Annie asked me to repair? I’m almost finished with it. What if we deliver it tomorrow night? If we wait until after we’ve cleaned the kitchen, we’ll most likely arrive at their haus after Dave normally comes home from work. We don’t want to go too early and miss him.”
“Perfect! And I can bake something for him.” She snapped her fingers. “I think he once said his favorite kuche is carrot. I’ll take one as a gift.”
“That’s a fantastic idea.” Mamm set the dried utensils in the drawer. “While you bake, I’ll finish the quilt.”
When they finished in the kitchen, Mamm headed upstairs to the sewing room, and Alice opened her grandmother’s cookbook. She found her favorite carrot cake recipe and began to gather the ingredients. As she did, she sent up a silent prayer.
Lord, please let this kuche be a blessing to Dave. Grant me the right words to show him that his freinden miss him and we want him back in our lives. Guide my heart as I remind him that you love him and want the best for him.
Surely God would help her show Dave he needed his friends.
* * *<
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As Dave stepped from the mudroom onto the back porch after supper Friday evening, he breathed in the still-humid June air. The day had been long and exhausting as he and the crew worked on a staircase for a mansion a few counties over.
His back and neck ached, and his knees were sore. But it had been a good day. At least he found himself in a relatively good mood.
His work boots crunched the rocks in the path that led from the back porch to the large barn housing his workshop. Once inside the shop, he flipped on the lanterns before sitting down at his worktable, then picked up a tool and began working on the railing he hoped to sell on their next job.
He was twisting the metal with the help of a vise and two pipe wrenches when he felt as though someone was watching him. He turned toward the doorway, where Alice stood holding a cake container with plates, forks, and napkins balanced on top.
Wearing a pink dress that matched her pretty cheeks, and a black apron, she gave him a sweet smile, and for a moment, he was almost certain that his heart had turned over.
“Hi.” Her voice was soft and unsure, as if she were nervous.
“Hi.” He spun on the stool to face her. “What are you doing here?”
She held up the cake container. “I remember you once told me you liked carrot kuche.” Her dark eyebrows lifted. “Is that still true?”
“It’s my favorite.” He studied her as a new suspicion nipped at him. “Did you come here just to bring me a kuche?”
She came up beside him, and when she set the container on the worktable, the delicious aroma caused his stomach to gurgle.
“Not exactly,” she said. “Mei mamm repaired a quilt for your mamm, and she wanted to drop it off tonight. I thought I’d come along and bring you something special to brighten your day.”
He swallowed as his throat dried. Did Alice genuinely care if his day needed brightening? Maybe so, but she probably took cakes to everyone she felt sorry for.
She took the top off the container and revealed the cake, already sliced. Then she used a fork to scoop a piece onto a paper plate. After handing the plate and a napkin and fork to him, she put a second piece on a plate, replaced the lid, and then pointed to a nearby metal stool. “May I sit here?”