The Timepiece

by Beverly Lewis

  “I can get it for her, if you’d like.”

  “Would you?”

  She nodded. “Ella Mae loves to share.”

  Andy agreed. “My sister Susie is a big fan of Ella Mae, too.” He also went on to mention how fond his sister was of Sylvia. “She wants to get better acquainted with you.”

  Sylvia had to smile. Is that something every fellow says to his girlfriend? she wondered, then caught herself. Am I his girlfriend?

  At the end of the evening, Andy turned in to her father’s driveway and came around to help her down. “I’ll see ya tomorrow at Singing,” he said as he walked her up the back-porch steps. “You haven’t forgotten, I hope?”

  “Nee,” she said, smiling under the light of the moon, never having had dates on consecutive nights before.

  “Okay, gut.” He paused. “Sleep well, Sylvie.”

  “Gut Nacht, Andy,” she said softly and let herself in the back door.

  CHAPTER

  thirty-three

  Earnest sat attentively as Benuel Zook preached the second sermon the next morning. He asked God to give Benuel the courage and the wisdom to deliver the words the Lord had put on his heart, wondering how it felt to stand before this large congregation for the very first time.

  Earnest noticed other men with their heads bowed and believed that they, too, were asking God’s blessing on their newly ordained minister rather than dozing off on such an important day.

  Benuel’s message was inspiring and focused on divine guidance and lovingkindness. Earnest wished Adeline might have been in attendance. She has so many questions, he thought, looking forward to seeing her in a little over three weeks.

  He had been praying for Adeline every day since she’d left. He had also been asking God that his clock business would continue to stabilize. He needed a steady income, especially with the usual lull of winter after Christmas. There still seemed to be some hesitation on some customers’ part to frequent his actual shop, but he was grateful for the strong sales each Saturday at market. Because of that, he had been talking with a landlord about setting up a clock showroom near one of the tourist traps in Bird-in-Hand. As of right now, he was waiting for a final offer on the rent.

  The Lord knows our every need, he thought, glad for Sylvia’s and Ernie’s enthusiasm to help at the small showroom beside the house so that Earnest could tend the shop in town. If it all works out . . .

  Sylvia loved joining her voice in song with the other youth that Sunday evening, even as she happened to notice Titus sitting with his male cousins. Determined not to catch his eye, she paid close attention to the parent sponsors, who were starting to announce the upcoming youth activities for this month of November. There was to be another supper party the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, but Sylvia knew she wouldn’t be going, since Adeline was coming that evening. We’ll scarcely have enough time together as it is, she thought, hoping this second visit wouldn’t cause waves amongst the People.

  As before, Andy was very attentive to her during refreshments and after the Singing, as well, making his way over to talk with her and her cousins. His cousin Yonnie mentioned possibly double dating in the future, and Cousin Jessie, who fortunately was feeling well again, fairly glowed at the prospect.

  Later, during their ride around Hickory Hollow, Andy asked Sylvia if it was all right if they doubled with Yonnie and Jessie sometime.

  “That’d be nice, but I’ve heard they’re getting serious, so maybe they would rather not.”

  “Jah, they’re close to being engaged,” Andy agreed.

  Sylvia assumed that since Yonnie was related to Andy, perhaps this idea had come directly from him. “As long as they’re comfortable with us hanging around, I’m fine with it,” she added, recalling how Cousin Alma had seemed to prefer not to double-date once she and Danny Lapp became more serious.

  Andy chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out . . . that is, if you agree to let me court ya.”

  Rather shocked, she almost asked him to repeat his words. Wasn’t it too soon?

  As if sensing her hesitation, he said, “If you’re not sure, Sylvie . . .”

  She shook her head. “I guess I’m just tryin’ to catch up.”

  Nodding, Andy said, “Well, I understand it may seem quick to you, but you’re the girl I’ve been hopin’ to court for a while now.”

  He seems to know his heart, she thought. “How will it look?” she managed to ask him.

  “Well, how long has it been since you and Titus broke up?”

  “Nearly three months.”

  “So it’s entirely up to you, Sylvie. Please take your time. I don’t want to rush you. Just give me your answer later.”

  She appreciated his taking her feelings into consideration. And, while Adeline’s upcoming visit was fresh on her mind, she decided to ask him another question. “Adeline will be here for Thanksgiving,” she said, saying it quickly so she wouldn’t shy away from what could be a sticky subject. “What do ya think ’bout that?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Is she curious ’bout the Old Ways, do ya know?”

  “Nee, she’s not about to become Amish, but she has been askin’ a lot about God and the Good Book lately.” She told about Adeline’s mother’s diary and how it had made her think more about her purpose in life.

  “It’s a gut thing she’s reachin’ out to you and your family, jah?”

  He doesn’t seem to be opposed, she realized, nodding and adding, “Dat’s been answering her letters, sharing Scriptures with her.”

  Andy signaled the horse to trot faster. “Surely the Lord’s hand was in her comin’ to Hickory Hollow. Don’t ya think so?”

  “Honestly, jah . . . and I think Adeline visiting again will be a real blessing for her . . . and us.”

  Settling back in the seat, Sylvia was glad she’d had the courage to share with him instead of fretting to herself what he thought about it.

  To think Andy’s ready to court me, she thought. Am I ready?

  While the clothes flapped on the line the next morning, Sylvia went down cellar to sort more of the laundry. After that chore was finished, she wrote a quick note to Adeline, asking about her favorite dessert. Sylvia also wanted to keep her promise to see Ella Mae and also to ask for the fudge meltaways recipe. Andy might think I forgot, otherwise.

  On top of that, Sylvia really wanted someone else’s opinion about entering into another courtship this soon. Usually, when an engagement was broken, the young man or woman casually dated several more people before settling into another serious courtship. Would Ella Mae have some advice that Mamma might not be willing to give? Mamma likes Andy Zook, she thought, and so does Dat. So there’s that to consider.

  “No pressure,” she whispered, laughing a little.

  After the noon meal, Sylvia went on foot to visit the Wise Woman, enjoying the autumn foliage, many of the gold and orange leaves still clinging to the branches, and the sumac vines along the roadside still red. The mulchy trace of tilled soil hung in the damp, nippy air as Amish folk from her church district rode past in buggies and spring wagons, waving and smiling.

  When she had turned in to David Beiler’s long driveway, she made her way around toward Ella Mae’s back door and saw her outside on the little white porch deadheading several potted purple mums. “Hullo,” Sylvia called, glad to see the woman in such good health.

  “Well, how nice to see you again.” Ella Mae pointed to the potted flowers. “These here late-bloomin’ mums are called Barbara, and they just keep flowerin’ till a hard frost. I baby them along, protecting them at night, putting them up close to the house.”

  “They’re so perty,” Sylvia said, eyeing them.

  “Ach, listen to me rattle on.” Ella Mae pushed her long white Kapp strings back over her shoulders. “Kumme inside for some hot peppermint tea, won’t ya?”

  “You always seem to have some ready.”

  Ella Mae smiled sweetly. “In case someone drops by. Ya just never know.”

&n
bsp; Sylvia should have expected such an answer, humble as Ella Mae was.

  Ella Mae invited her to sit down and relax. “You had a lot on your shoulders this past summer.” She looked at Sylvia thoughtfully, as though she knew exactly why she’d come. “Am I right?”

  Sylvia nodded. “You have no idea.” Then, realizing what she’d said, she corrected herself. “Well, maybe ya do.”

  They shared a little laugh.

  “New love is exciting, but it can fog the brain,” Ella Mae said, pouring her signature tea into Sylvia’s cup, her hand as steady as if she were twenty.

  “Well, this new fella’s already become a gut friend,” Sylvia admitted while reaching for the bowl of sugar cubes. “And in such a short time, too.”

  “Ah, and friendship’s the best place to start a lasting romance, I daresay.” Ella Mae’s smile made her eyes twinkle.

  They talked more of courtship, and of love . . . particularly of giving one’s heart away and then wondering if there was any love left for another.

  “That’s where I am now,” Sylvia said quietly.

  “Then I’ll be askin’ my customary question,” Ella Mae said, her teacup poised near her wrinkled lips.

  Sylvia waited, knowing what was coming next.

  “Have ya given this up to the Good Lord in prayer?”

  Being honest, Sylvia replied, “I’ve scarcely had time to—it’s all happened so fast.”

  “Well now, dearie, it takes only a moment to breathe a prayer to the One who made ya. He’s ever listenin’, ever wanting to lead ya.”

  Ella Mae always points a person in the right direction, Sylvia thought.

  “Our heavenly Father has a plan for each of us,” Ella Mae continued. “Do ya believe that?”

  Sylvia sighed. “For a while I thought Titus Kauffman was God’s plan for me. And we were both praying ’bout our relationship, too.”

  Ella Mae looked at her kindly over her dainty rosebud teacup. “Could be that neither of ya really stopped to listen for God’s answer—sometimes our hearts try to go before our heads, ’specially when it comes to romance. But that doesn’t mean that your time with Titus didn’t teach ya a thing or two about what a gut relationship should look like. We learn from many experiences in life, ain’t so?”

  Sylvia mulled this over before saying, “I hadn’t really thought of it that way.”

  Ella Mae smiled. “Delightful as you are, there will always be someone interested in you, Sylvie, till you’re settled into marriage,” she said. “But I don’t say this to flatter ya. Outward beauty can be a disadvantage at your young age . . . it can cause confusion. And one can’t be so sure if a fella’s interest is based on appearance rather than the heart.”

  Sylvia wanted to tell Ella Mae that Andy Zook was the new fellow, but she didn’t want to say anything quite yet.

  Again, Ella Mae urged her to commit her future husband to the Lord. “Then on your wedding day, you can tell the young man ’bout our conversation here today.”

  “Denki,” Sylvia said, encouraged.

  “If I can be of any help, just drop by, all right?” Ella Mae offered her another cup of tea, and Sylvia accepted.

  They began to talk less about relationships and more about recipes, and Sylvia asked if she might jot down Ella Mae’s fudge meltaways recipe “for a friend.”

  “Well now, that’s interesting. Rebecca Zook mentioned during yesterday’s fellowship meal that her son Andy commented ’bout the recipe for those exact same goodies.”

  “She did?” Sylvia’s eyes met Ella Mae’s, and while Ella Mae kept a straight face, Sylvia had to grin.

  CHAPTER

  thirty-four

  Earnest didn’t want to overreact, but he had something important to tell Rhoda. Hurrying into the house the following Tuesday afternoon, he found his wife redding up the sewing room and tiptoed in behind her to slip his arms around her waist.

  “Ach!” Rhoda whirled to face him.

  He leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. “I have some wunnerbaar-gut news, love.”

  Eyes shining with anticipation, she reached around his neck. “Did ya get the lease terms ya wanted?”

  “Not only that, but the landlord also threw in the first three months of utilities as part of the deal. I think he’s mighty happy to have an Amish client.” Ernest picked Rhoda up and twirled her around like they were young again. “Just what we prayed for.”

  She smiled up at him, stepping back. “This’ll give your business a shot in the arm.”

  “Jah, if all goes well. . . . If I move in right away, I can attract all the folks buying Christmas gifts.” He mentioned having Ernie help him paint an attractive sign to put over the entrance to the new House of Time.

  “Excellent idea. Ernie will do a right fine job,” she said. “You’ll have to let him and Sylvie know when to plan to be on hand to help in the showroom here.” Rhoda went to close the door. “And speakin’ of Sylvie, she was up early this morning, kneeling at her bedside.”

  “Oh?”

  “Something’s goin’ on with her. I can feel it.”

  Earnest frowned. “Not with her and Titus, surely?”

  “Nee, might be Andy Zook,” Rhoda said. “I could be wrong, but mothers usually aren’t.”

  He grinned. “I’d have to say that’s true.”

  “Whatever it is, the Lord knows.”

  Earnest relished the fact that they were in one accord once more, and not just on the matter of their daughter’s dating life. He reached for Rhoda and kissed her again, longer this time. “I love you so,” he whispered.

  “We’d best be gettin’ back to work or . . .”

  “Or what?”

  “We’ll talk ’bout this another time,” she said, pressing her hands against his face.

  “Jah,” he said.

  She threw him a kiss before he turned to leave.

  Earnest smiled all the way down the stairs and through the kitchen, looking forward to finishing their conversation tonight.

  Wednesday’s mending and sewing took up much of the day, and when Thursday came, Sylvia found herself busy in Mamma’s kitchen, baking loaves of bread and some pumpkin pies and pumpkin cookies, too.

  That afternoon, a light rain began to fall, and she took the umbrella to check on the mail for Mamma. All week long, Sylvia had wondered if Andy might follow up their dates with a note or letter, but so far, there’d been no word.

  The air had the distinct smell of coming snow as she made her way down the driveway. The day was cold and dreary, and she expected the rain to soon turn to sleet. Opening the mailbox, she reached in and discovered a stack of mail. Wanting to keep the letters dry, she didn’t pause to look through them, instead hurrying to the house.

  On the back porch, she shook out the umbrella before taking it inside to the utility room. Then she headed through the narrow hallway into the warm kitchen, where she breathed in the homey smell of baking bread. “Plenty-a mail today,” she told Mamma, who was already rolling out dough for noodles on the long counter. “But I haven’t looked through it yet.”

  “Would you mind checking for me?” asked Mamma, holding up her hands, all caked with flour.

  “All right.” Sylvia flipped through the mail, reciting what letters were addressed to Mamma. To Sylvia’s surprise, two were for her: one from Andy, and another from Titus.

  What in the world?

  “I’ll be right back,” Sylvia told Mamma as she headed for the sitting room.

  “Take your time, dear,” Mamma said, sounding cheerful.

  Sitting in the chair nearest the window, Sylvia opened Titus’s letter first, curious what he had on his mind and recalling how he had looked at her at the supper party last Saturday evening.

  The letter was short and to the point. He apologized for hurting her and said he’d noticed how happy she appeared while talking with Andy Zook the other day. It makes sense that you settle in with someone new, and I’m glad it’s Andy, he’d written. You and I went
through such a difficult stretch toward the end of our relationship. I wish you well, Sylvie.

  He had signed off Sincerely, Titus Kauffman.

  She returned the letter to its envelope, floored to receive something like this. He’s happy for me?

  She wondered, too, if Titus’s letter was the sign she had prayed for. Could it be?

  She felt almost teary eyed at the thought of Titus taking time to write this. After all we went through . . .

  Then, opening the letter from Andy, she found a slightly longer note. And she leaned into the chair to read.

  Dear Sylvie,

  I hope you’re having a good week!

  You’ve been on my mind since we talked on Sunday after Singing. I think I may have surprised you with my invitation to court, which wasn’t my intention at all.

  I know I’ve already said it, but please take as much time as you need to feel comfortable with a decision. I understand not wanting to move forward until you’re completely ready—a wise thing to do. I can be as patient as you need me to be.

  Meanwhile, I’m praying for God’s will in this and hoping you are, too.

  Your friend,

  Andy Zook

  Staring now at the letter, Sylvia contemplated what he’d written, her heart warmed by his kindness and sensitivity. And to think Titus wishes us well!

  Quickly, she carried the letters upstairs and placed them in her dresser drawer, Andy’s on top.

  Saturday evening, Sylvia stayed put at home, reading and working on some embroidery, although Andy would undoubtedly have liked to take her out, since there was no Singing till a week from tomorrow. Even so, his letter made it clear he understood her reasons for waiting. All the same, she would still miss not seeing him for another eight days, assuming she decided to go to the next Singing. There’s no need to rush things.

  Meanwhile, she spent the evening with her family, playing table games with her brothers while the snow fell and the wind blew it all around.

  Rhoda mentioned again to Earnest later that night that she felt sure Sylvia was mulling over something. “She didn’t go out tonight,” she observed.