The Baby Next Door

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The Baby Next Door Page 12

by Vannetta Chapman


  By 4:15 p.m., even her mamm was concerned. “Perhaps you should go check on him.”

  “Ya. Gut idea.”

  Nicole was sitting in her high chair, eating a snack of Cheerios, though a good portion of them were falling to the floor. Grace thought of what the doctor had said, about how it helped to have a dog to clean up such messes. She had to admit it would be helpful to have Triangle there to scoop up the fallen bits.

  Yes, that was exactly what she needed—a house dog.

  She was probably going a little crazy.

  Too much pressure. Too many changes.

  But she didn’t feel crazy or under pressure, and she was enjoying the changes.

  It finally felt like her life, which had been on hold for so long, was moving forward again.

  She hurried over to Adrian’s. He wasn’t in the aviary, and though she knocked on the barn door, no one answered. She even stuck her head inside the barn and shouted, “Yoo-hoo! Anyone home?” All to no avail.

  He had to be home. Socks was out grazing in the pasture.

  She found him with Cinnamon, holding one of the camel’s hooves between his legs and brandishing a large metal file that he was using to grind down her nails.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Oh. Hi, Grace. I didn’t hear you come up.”

  “What are you doing?” she repeated, her voice rising. When he looked at her blankly, she wanted to shake him. “Did you forget about the meeting?”

  He dropped his head, though he still held on to the camel’s hoof. “Ya. I guess I did.”

  “Everyone is at my place—waiting.”

  “Right. Okay. I’ll just finish this and—”

  “Adrian! Now. You need to come over now.” She felt the beginnings of a headache in her left temple. She tried to rein in her frustration, but she was comfortable with Adrian now. It was difficult not to share what was bothering her, and why should she hold back? He was the one who had called the meeting, and now he’d forgotten?

  “Adrian, how could you?” Her hands went to her hips of their own accord, as she squinted her eyes at him. “This was your idea. I made snacks. I cleaned up the house. I even changed my apron. Now you need to get over there and lead this meeting!”

  Adrian’s eyes widened, but instead of becoming defensive, he grinned at her. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Gives you a little blush to your cheeks.”

  “Teasing me won’t change a thing. I’m still aggravated.” But in truth, her heart was racing from the way he was looking at her, and he seemed to have forgotten he was holding Cinnamon’s hoof.

  “I have a sudden urge to kiss you.”

  “Here? In the middle of Cinnamon’s pen?” Now her face, neck and ears felt impossibly hot. He’d inadvertently hit on something she’d been thinking about—what it would be like to kiss Adrian Schrock. Instead of giving in to the embarrassment, she tossed her kapp strings over her shoulders. “You want this to be our first kiss?”

  He was at her side in three long strides. And suddenly she didn’t care about tour dates or visitors or the fact that Cinnamon was staring at them curiously.

  He slipped a hand to the back of her neck, tilted her face up to his and kissed her softly on the lips once, twice, then a third time. When he stepped back, the smile on his face made her laugh.

  He looked like a child on Christmas morning.

  He looked like she felt.

  Had she fallen in love with this man? The man who forgot meetings and allowed his goats to pillage his garden and quoted poets? None of that mattered, though. Not really. His shirt was covered with pieces of straw, dirt and camel hair. His pants weren’t in any better shape, and his hair looked as if he’d forgotten to comb it.

  He was a mess!

  So why did Grace’s heart lighten as he hurried back down the lane with her?

  Honestly, she didn’t care if his clothes were dirty—that was part of the life of being a farmer.

  As for his hair, if she could get him to sit still, Grace’s mamm could give him a gut haircut. Her mamm had been cutting her dat’s hair for as long as Grace could remember.

  They found everyone assembled on the back porch, enjoying Grace’s oatmeal bars and cold drinks. Only Seth seemed particularly put out that they were starting late. “I need to get home and clean up,” he explained. “I’m taking Lynda Beachy to the Art in the Park Festival. They’re having food trucks, music, even balloons and such for the kids. You should take Nicole, Grace. She’d love it.”

  “She goes to bed pretty early.”

  “It’s running all weekend, eight in the morning to nine at night.”

  Adrian winked at her, then said, “Great idea, Seth. Now, let’s get you out of here in time for your date.”

  As Adrian laid out their plan, everyone nodded in agreement. Grace was surprised when every single person was in favor of adding a third day. She’d thought that perhaps they’d be too busy with their various jobs and families.

  Old Saul said it made no difference to him or his cows.

  Seth said he certainly didn’t mind driving another day. “The tips are gut, and my buggy horse enjoys the opportunity to show off.”

  Surprisingly, only her mother voiced any concern at all. “I can’t keep up with the demand for my knitted items as it is. They’re buying everything I make, which is a gut problem but still a problem.”

  George leaned forward, elbows propped on knees. “Leslie brings up an important point. Growth is something that has to be managed in the tourism market. It’s wunderbaar that things are going so well with you all, but at the same time, you don’t want the quality of the experience you offer to suffer.”

  He turned to Grace. “Are you sure you won’t have trouble cooking for a third day? I can only imagine how much work it is.”

  “Nein. I’m gut. I’m actually enjoying it.” She thought of her idea to write a cookbook but decided that it wasn’t the right time to bring up such a venture. So instead, she said, “Honestly, I usually cook dinner, anyway.”

  “Yes, but not for twenty people.”

  Everyone laughed at that, and then George moved on to address her mamm’s concerns. “I assume that you’re open to selling items made by other women in our community.”

  “Ya. Of course. You know I have your fraa’s quilts, and I have all of my doschdern who live in the area knitting in their spare time—which is pretty limited.”

  “I suggest you put a call out to the community at large. I know for a fact that Donna and Meredith Bontrager have items they’d like to sell. Donna sews a lot, though they’re not quilts—more like dolls, things to go on the dining table, pot holders, etcetera. Meredith has started making homemade soaps. Both are small-ticket items, but I think they’d compliment the other things you’re selling.”

  Grace cringed at the mention of Donna and Meredith. Both had been very pointed in their disapproval of Grace, though they had never spoken to her directly. That wasn’t their way. They were much more likely to talk behind her back. It was an uncharitable thought, but one she knew to be true. Still, if their items could make the tour a success, she would put aside her reservations. Her mamm was already nodding in agreement, so she really didn’t have much choice.

  “I guess we’re done here, then.” George stood and reached for his hat, which he plopped on his head. “You have my approval, not that you needed it, and I’ll make sure that the larger tourism board is aware that you’ve expanded the days you’re operating.”

  Grace was surprised when Adrian indicated he had something to say before the group dispersed.

  “Some of you had reservations when we started this venture. Some of you I had to badger into giving it a try.” Everyone again laughed when Adrian gave a pointed look to Grace. Even she laughed.

  Had s
he really intentionally made a terrible casserole?

  Invited bees to a picnic?

  Let out Adrian’s goats?

  “I think we’ve come together as a gut group, and I appreciate each of you. Danki for taking this adventure with me, and may Gotte bless our endeavors as well as the people that we serve.”

  Murmurs of “amen” circled the group. Twenty minutes later, everyone was gone. Grace stood on the front porch with Adrian.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

  “I’d love to, but I have a camel with several filed nails and a few unfiled nails that are probably driving her batty.”

  Adrian reached for Grace’s hand and squeezed it, sending tiny shivers of delight down her arm and reminding her of the kisses they’d shared earlier. She wasn’t a youngie on her first date, but oh, how her heart soared when he looked at her as he was now.

  “I’d like to take you and Nicole to the Art Festival tomorrow. I saw your eyes light up when Seth mentioned it.”

  “Mamm had offered to watch Nicole, but I think she would enjoy the festival. So yes, we would love to go.”

  “Pick you up at ten?”

  “Ya. Ten will be gut.”

  The afternoon had been almost perfect. The only thing to mar it was the thought of having to work with Donna and Meredith. Later that evening, after Nicole was tucked into her bed and while her dat was doing a final check on the animals, Grace broached the subject with her mamm.

  “I’m worried about including Donna and Meredith in our tour.”

  “Why is that, dear?”

  “Certainly you’re aware they aren’t the most pleasant people.”

  “I am aware. Your schweschder has shared with me her problems with her in-laws many times.”

  Grace grimaced. The only thing worse than having to do business with those two women was to have them in your family. She would need to remember to pray for Georgia.

  “What, in particular, are you worried about?” Her mamm was knitting a baby sweater. The needles were a blur in her hands. This time, she was using a variegated blue color that was quite beautiful.

  Grace would like to have a son someday.

  She’d like to have a big family.

  She didn’t want Nicole to be an only child. Most of the time when she thought of courting Adrian, she felt excited about the prospect, but occasionally, she fell into a rut of worrying. What if he decided he didn’t want a ready-made family? What if his feelings for Grace weren’t what he thought they were? What if he learned the truth about Nicole and rejected them?

  She needed to tell him the truth before he heard it from someone else. She’d tried a few times, but the words had lodged in her throat.

  “Grace? Would you like to share what’s bothering you?”

  Grace was working on the doll’s dress for Nicole. She’d already finished the dress and apron for her doschder, but she wanted to surprise her with the doll’s clothes at the same time. Each evening, she waited until Nicole was in bed to pull the project out of her sewing basket.

  “Both Donna and Meredith are... Unkind is the nicest way to say it.”

  Her mamm raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to go on.

  “I think it’s because of Nicole, because of the circumstances of her birth. They judge me. Which is fine. I made my mistakes, and I don’t mind paying the price for them.”

  “But...”

  “But Nicole shouldn’t have to. They shouldn’t be rude to her. That’s wrong, Mamm. That’s not what the Bible teaches us.”

  Her mamm tugged on the ball of yarn and continued knitting. “The Bible says many things.”

  “For example?”

  “It says to love your neighbors.”

  “Ya. That’s what I mean. They’re not loving. I wish you could see the way they treat me.”

  “I have seen, and it hurts my heart in the same way that seeing someone treat Nicole unkindly hurts yours. But Grace, Christ doesn’t tell us to love only the neighbors who are pleasant. We’re to treat everyone the way we want to be treated.”

  “That’s not easy to do sometimes.”

  “You’re right.”

  “And it makes me angry. Donna and Meredith aren’t perfect. They have no right to judge me.”

  “You’re right again, but it doesn’t change a thing.” Her mamm paused in her knitting, counted her stitches, then finished the row and stuck the needles into the ball of yarn. Scooting to the edge of the couch, she picked up the family Bible, ran her fingertips over the cover, studied it a moment and then she placed it in Grace’s hands. “The answers you’re looking for—they’re here. But I have to warn you, I’ve been reading the Bible for many years and I’ve yet to find any promise that life will always be easy or pleasant or that people will always be kind.”

  “If this is a pep talk, it’s terrible.”

  “It could be that Gotte has put Deborah and Meredith in our path for a reason. Perhaps we’re to minister to them.”

  “That would be like ministering to a snake. I’m more likely to be bit for my trouble than thanked.”

  “We don’t do it to be thanked. We do it because we’re commanded to do so.”

  And with that, her mamm stood, kissed her on top of the head and headed out onto the porch to wait for her dat. Grace heard them out there almost every evening, usually sharing a hot cup of tea and talking over their day. Grace wanted that. She wanted someone that she could spend the last moments of each evening with as well as the first moments of each morning. She wanted someone who would care for her regardless of her past mistakes.

  She honestly didn’t know if Adrian was that person.

  Her stomach grew queasy when she thought of confessing all to him. She would do it—soon. Not tomorrow, though. Tomorrow, she was taking Nicole to town in her new lavender dress. She scooped up her sewing things, determined to finish the doll’s dress before she called it a night and equally determined to put her worries about Deborah and Meredith out of her mind. It was bad enough that she was going to have to deal with them on a weekly basis. There was no point in dragging them into her life earlier than she had to.

  Because despite what her mamm said, she wasn’t sure that they were commanded to tolerate mean people. It seemed to her that she and Nicole were both far better off avoiding them.

  Chapter Eleven

  Adrian’s life took on a fullness and richness that he couldn’t have imagined six months before. He’d found what he was missing, and he hadn’t even been looking for it.

  He’d found Grace and Nicole.

  May gave way to June. He continued to take Grace out once a week—sometimes with the baby and sometimes without, though Nicole could hardly be called a baby now. Toward the end of June, yellow became her favorite color. She looked everywhere for it—picking yellow flowers from the roadside, falling in love with lemon slushes and wearing out her yellow crayon. Yellow bananas, baby chicks, corn, butter and daffodils were a few of her favorite things.

  She was now walking like a champ and had even recently learned to run. She thought it was quite funny to make her mamm chase her, and though Adrian tried to look serious and disapproving, the sight of Grace chasing Nicole through his aviary brought him too much joy. He simply couldn’t scold her. In that way, he might make a terrible dat, but he was sure he could make up for his lack of sternness another way. Perhaps it was something he could learn. He didn’t expect he’d need to be firm with the little girl anytime soon, probably not until Nicole was a youngie and needed scolding. Fortunately, he had plenty of time before that would happen.

  Grace and Nicole came to visit him nearly every day, and when they didn’t, he went to their place. He kissed Grace on a regular basis now. She was still something of a mystery to him. She’d learned to relax when he reached for her hand or kissed her or complimented her, but he had the distinct
impression that she was holding a part of herself back.

  They spent many summer evenings walking the fields as the sun set and talking about their youth.

  “You were the middle child?” She glanced up at him and smiled.

  Adrian realized she could melt his heart with that smile. What wouldn’t he tell her? What wouldn’t he do? They were supposed to be finding out if they were right for one another—that was the purpose of a courting time—but Adrian already knew that the only woman for him was Grace Troyer.

  “Can’t remember?”

  “Huh?”

  “I asked if you were the middle child in your family.” She bumped her shoulder against his.

  “Oh, ya. I was square in the middle—five older and five younger.”

  “What was that like?”

  “It seemed normal to me. I’ve heard middle children can carry a chip on their shoulder—they’re not the oldest getting into trouble or the youngest causing parents to realize how quickly time passes.” He plucked a weed growing by the fence line, studied it a minute and then stuck it in his mouth. “I never felt that way. To me it was more like being in a litter of pups. There was always someone to play with or drag off to see the latest animal I’d adopted.”

  “Even then?”

  He laughed. “Ya. Even then. What about you? I know Georgia and Greta both live in the area.”

  “They attend different church districts, but they’re close enough that we see them every week.”

  “You have other siblings, though?”

  “Sure. Three married and moved away—Gloria, Gwen and Gina.”

  “Your mamm likes the letter G.”

  “As much as Nicole loves the color yellow.”

  “And you’re the youngest.”

  “I am.” She glanced at him, then looked quickly away.

  “Something you want to add to that?”

  “Only that being the youngest, well... Sometimes it means you make mistakes that others didn’t. My schweschdern were already married and out of the house by the time I was a youngie.”

 

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