An Amish Homecoming

by Amy Clipston

  His mother nodded. “Having her back here would be nice, but I’d rather hear that the two of you are getting along. She needs all the friends she can get.”

  “Is she still mourning her friend who died?”

  “I think so. But it’s more than that, Marcus. I have a feeling that there haven’t been many people in her life who have stayed by her side and supported her. I hate the thought of her thinking she has to be all alone again.”

  Swallowing the lump that had just formed in his throat, he murmured, “I’ll try to make things better, Mamm.”

  “Danke, Marcus. I have always felt that it took a lot of courage for Irene to reach out to your father and me. It pains me to think she might regret it.”

  Afraid to say anything else, he took a step back. “I’d best get on my way. I’ve got more meat to deliver.”

  “Danke for bringing us the meat, Marcus. It was kind of you.”

  Feeling empty, he leaned down and kissed his mother’s cheek. Then, without a word, he grabbed his coat and hat as he walked out the door. When he finished his deliveries, he was going to sit down someplace and take some time to pray and ask for the Lord’s help. This was definitely not something he could handle on his own any longer.

  CHAPTER 7

  Irene wasn’t exactly hiding in the kitchen of Bill’s Diner. It was just easier to fill pitchers of water from the sink in the back than the faucet near the counter.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t think a single person who worked there believed that for a minute.

  “He’s back,” Lora sang as she rushed into the kitchen. “And that handsome Marcus Wengerd doesn’t want me to wait on him either. He asked for you,” she said with a smirk.

  Irene didn’t think she could be any more embarrassed. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t do that.”

  “Sure he should,” Lora said. “Watching his ‘diner courting’ is the highlight of each day.”

  May chuckled. “You’d best get out there and give him his daily glass of water, Irene.”

  “At least you have his pitcher all ready to go,” Bill teased as he pointed to the plastic container she’d filled and set off to the side. “That man drinks more water than a deer with a salt lick.”

  Irene didn’t think much of the comparison, but she couldn’t disagree with the gist of it. It was true. Marcus Wengerd really did drink a lot of water. Gallons of it.

  She knew because she continually poured it into his glass every time he came to eat.

  And in the past week, he came into the diner a lot.

  Just as she was getting ready to serve Marcus and ignore his attempts at conversation, Lora continued. “Irene, you must have bewitched that man. He only comes here when you are working, he only sits at your station, and he doesn’t look at anyone but you the whole time he’s here.”

  She was good and embarrassed now. “Hardly.”

  “Pretty close to it.”

  “She doesn’t lie, dear.” May fanned a menu across her face. “It’s almost the most romantic thing that’s ever happened here.”

  Bill, who had been concentrating on the three hamburger patties on his griddle, looked up. “Almost? I thought you thought I was plenty romantic.”

  While Irene giggled, May winked at Lora. “Though you are mighty handsome, Bill, there was something about watching our handsome deputy court Lora here. Eddie Beck used to watch Lora like the sun couldn’t rise or fall without her.”

  “Marcus is real handsome too,” Lora said. “Maybe Irene will finally give in and start smiling back at him.”

  “I doubt it,” Irene said airily as she walked back into the dining room.

  However, she didn’t think she was fooling anyone for a second, least of all herself. Lora hadn’t been exaggerating. For days now, Marcus had entered the diner and sat down at her station, never allowing anyone to wait on him but her.

  She picked up a glass and carried it in one hand with the pitcher in her other.

  “Good afternoon,” she said, attempting to keep her voice as calm and cool as she could. “Would you care for something to drink?”

  His lips twitched, though his tone was just as formal and cool as hers. “I would. I was starting to think you weren’t coming out.”

  “Sorry. It was busy in the kitchen.”

  “It’s a shame Bill makes you work so hard in both the kitchen and in the dining room.”

  She was flustered. None too gently, she set the plastic pitcher on his table. “You’re in luck. I decided to give you a pitcher all to yourself today.”

  “That is gut news. But I’d rather you talk to me more often. It’s why I’m here. I guess you’ve figured that out by now.”

  “I did.” Of course she did. But what she didn’t understand was why. “Marcus, I already told you I’ve forgiven you.”

  “Though I’m glad to be forgiven, I want something more.”

  A shiver ran through her before she tamped it down hard. “More?”

  “Jah. I want to be friends. Real friends.”

  It was time for some drastic measures. After glancing around the dining room and seeing that it was still fairly empty, she scooted into the booth on the other side of him. “Why?”

  “Because I think there’s more about you than I’ve seen. I think there’s more of you that I want to know.”

  Those words. Who said such things? Feeling even more confused, she cleared her throat. “I’m sure we will get to know each other better over time. After all, I’m still friends with your parents.” At least, she hoped she was. She hadn’t seen them since she moved out.

  “Maybe I want to be part of that close-knit group.”

  Maybe he really was sincere. Maybe . . . maybe they really could form their own bond. “If you’re sure . . .”

  He smiled. “Mighty sure.” Just as Irene’s heart melted a little, he said, “Mamm and Daed miss you terribly. They’re not going to be pleased with me until things are better between us.”

  “So you want to be friends so your parents will be happy with you again.”

  “That is true,” he said slowly. “But that’s not the only reason.” He lowered his voice. “I’m being honest, Irene. I want to know you better.”

  Feeling like she was walking on an emotional tightrope, she cleared her throat. “Actually, I realize now that living with your parents probably wasn’t the best situation. I’m getting settled in my new place above the bookstore and it’s fine.”

  “That’s where you’re living? Above the Printed Page?”

  “Jah.”

  “Isn’t the owner Agnes Weatherbee?”

  She didn’t care for the way he was scowling. “It is.”

  “Is she nice to you?”

  “She’s nice enough, I suppose. Why do you ask?”

  Looking like he was carefully weighing his answer, he said, “She doesn’t have the best reputation, Irene.”

  Frustrated, she glared at him. “So we’re back to that again? Worrying about reputations?”

  He held up a hand. “Nee. Please listen.” Just as she was about to get up, he blurted, “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve heard she doesn’t have a good reputation as a businesswoman. I know someone she hired to build bookshelves and never paid. Then when he tried to press her about it, she refused and spread lies about his character. That’s what I meant about her reputation.”

  “Oh.” A part of her wanted to prove Marcus wrong, but Irene didn’t know if she would be able to do that. In truth, Irene wasn’t sure if Agnes was nice or not. She’d been kind of scatterbrained and had even knocked on Irene’s door and asked her to watch over the shop for an hour while she ate supper. It was kind of an odd arrangement.

  He studied her for a moment, concern in his eyes as he took another sip of water. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “All right.”

  His brown eyes warmed. “You know, there’s a fall festival on Saturday. Are you working?”

  “Nee. I mean, I’m not scheduled.”


  “Gut. Since you’re free, why don’t you come with me?”

  He was asking her out. Almost like it was a date. But she was still too afraid to get her hopes up. “Marcus, you don’t have to take me around for us to be friends.”

  “Maybe I just want to spend time with you.”

  Before she realized she was doing it, she smiled.

  He smiled right back. “Does that mean what I think it does? Will you say yes and go with me to the fall festival?”

  “Jah. I will.”

  He grinned. “Danke, Irene. You’ve made me happy.”

  She felt her cheeks heat and scooted out of the booth. “What do you want to order?”

  “Well, about that . . . I think I’m going to sip on my water and then be on my way. I’ve eaten here a lot lately, you know. I’ll come to your apartment at ten on Saturday.”

  “I guess I’ll see you then.”

  “You surely will, Irene.”

  Turning away from him, she felt a little tingling in her spine. At first it was so faint she could hardly recognize it for what it was. But then she knew. It was attraction. And hope.

  Against her will, against her better judgment, she was attracted to Marcus. Surely it was a mistake.

  He might be flirting with her a little bit, but maybe he was simply being nice. Or maybe he really was reaching out to her because of his parents. He loved his parents and they loved her. He wanted to make them happy.

  She truly wasn’t sure what to think. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that a positive and healthy relationship was in her future. But a lifetime of bad decisions and painful memories of being forgotten and hurt by her parents made it hard to believe such a thing could be possible.

  But still . . . Maybe it was time she tried.

  CHAPTER 8

  Marcus had been to the fall festival many times, but as he walked by Irene’s side, he took in every detail as if for the first time. The air smelled of popcorn, baked apples, freshly fallen leaves, and honeysuckle. Vendors were sharing samples of their wares, everything from fresh apple pastries to bags of roasted peanuts to Irene’s favorite, caramel corn nestled in brown paper cones.

  The scents of pumpkin and cinnamon were strong too. They were surrounded on one side by a field ready for harvest and on the other by dozens of trees dressed up in their fall finery, a kaleidoscope of orange and gold, red and yellow.

  Everything suddenly seemed more vibrant, more interesting, more tantalizing.

  Especially Irene.

  When he knocked on her door a few hours earlier, he was struck by two things—her beauty and her scent. For once, her expression was open instead of guarded. She’d been smiling big enough for her dimple to show. She also smelled faintly of lavender. It must be her shampoo or lotion. Who knew what girly thing it was. All he did know was that there was a reason bees enjoyed buzzing around flowers in the springtime. He didn’t want to stay far away from that scent either.

  Irene popped one last caramel-coated kernel in her mouth and smiled up at him. “I’m beginning to get embarrassed.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We’ve been here two hours and so far I’ve eaten a whole cone of caramel corn and a bag of roasted peanuts, I’ve drunk a mug of hot cider, and I even considered eating a hot dog. You, on the other hand, have only had some water.”

  “I had some of your popcorn.”

  “Not much.”

  Unable to resist teasing her a bit, he said, “I happen to like water.”

  She giggled. “Oh, I know. I’ve never met a man as thirsty as you.”

  “Now I’m the one who’s getting embarrassed. I guess I drink more than most.”

  “I’m not complaining about you. I just don’t want you to think I’m being a pig. Or taking advantage of you. You haven’t let me pay for a thing.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m having a good time seeing you enjoy yourself.”

  Irene was slim, bordering on skinny. Until that moment, he’d always assumed it was by choice. But now, as he recalled just how much pleasure she took in every little treat, he wondered if she was used to not having the means to eat as much as she liked. “All I want is for you to have a good time. If you’re enjoying the food, then that makes me happy.”

  She looked away. “Danke.”

  “What did I say?” When she only shrugged in reply, he pressed. “Irene, talk to me.”

  “You are just a lot different than I thought,” she said hesitantly. “Not too many people have talked to me like that before. I guess it still catches me off guard.”

  Irene was acting like he’d bought her expensive gifts and given her flowery compliments. Remembering Beth and the way she complained that he never did enough for her, he was confused. “Like how? And I’m not pressing for compliments—I truly don’t know what I said.”

  She looked at her feet before she raised her eyes to his. “Like you want me to be happy.”

  “No one’s ever wanted that for you?”

  “People have been nice, of course. I mean, your parents couldn’t be more giving. And my friend Alice has always been close. But no one has gone to so much trouble just for me before. You’ve stayed by my side, waited when I wanted to look at some of the crafts, and even pulled me to the side when that group of teenagers ran by. It feels like you are putting my needs before yours.”

  “Those kids weren’t watching where they were going. Of course I was going to look out for you. Anyone would.”

  She shook her head impatiently. “I’m afraid I don’t think that’s true.”

  “Who didn’t look out for you? Are you thinking of that Englisher?”

  “West?” She looked surprised. “Oh nee. West was kind to me.” She smiled softly. “He had a different personality, though. Kind of gruff. Kind of bossy.”

  “Ah.” A stab of jealousy hit him hard, catching him off guard.

  Realizing she was looking embarrassed again because he hadn’t responded with much of an answer, he tried to bring the conversation back around to them. Okay, to him. “Your wishes matter to me, Irene.” Actually, he was coming to realize that she mattered to him.

  How had that happened? He’d courted Beth for years. His love for her had grown slowly over time, aided by his head reminding him of how suitable they were. But now it seemed like his heart was in charge instead of his mind. He kind of felt like he was on a runaway horse and simply along for the ride.

  Looking over at the corn maze in the distance, he pointed to it. “Would you like to give the maze a try?” He’d never been a big fan of them—probably because he had plenty of corn rows on his own farm—but he knew a lot of people loved to walk around in them.

  But instead of looking intrigued, she quickly shook her head. “Nee.”

  “You sound so certain. What happened?” he teased. “Did you get lost in one when you were little?”

  “Nee, but I did get lost once at a flea market when I was a little girl.” She darted a glance at him.

  “What happened?”

  “I was probably only five or six. My parents took me, but they had other things on their minds.” A shadow passed over her face. “They usually had a lot of other things on their minds besides me.” She cleared her throat. “Um, anyway, when I stopped to look at some dolls, I guess they thought I was behind and kept going. By the time I realized I’d stopped too long, I couldn’t find either of them anywhere.”

  He was horrified. “How long were you alone?”

  She shrugged. “It felt like all day, but maybe it was only two or three hours.”

  “Two or three hours? Irene, that’s terrible. I bet you were frightened half to death.”

  “It really was terrible.” Her voice turned faint. “I was so small, and everyone and everything looked so big. I was only knee-high and everyone’s knees looked the same.” She smiled, obviously trying to make light of the situation. “Then, of course, I got hungry and tired, but I didn’t have any food or anyplace to sit. It was
a long day.”

  He couldn’t find it in him to smile. “How did they find you? Did your mother start calling your name or something?”

  She shook her head. “Nee. Nothing like that. I ran into Alice and her family. They helped me.”

  “Thank goodness you saw them.”

  “It was a blessing, but they’ve always been a blessing to me. I don’t know what my life would have been like without them, Marcus. They’re the ones who taught me what a family was supposed to look like.”

  Yet again, her words humbled him, and he was reminded of how much he’d taken for granted, especially when he was a little boy.

  Needing to know the rest of the story, he said, “Did Alice’s mamm help you find your parents?”

  She pressed her lips together, as if what she was about to tell him was hard to speak of. “Jah. They’d been having lunch and weren’t happy to be bothered by Alice’s mother. They got really mad at me later.”

  Feeling like he was about to choke on the lump in his throat, he said, “We’ll stay away from corn mazes.”

  “If you really want to go, I could give it a try.”

  “I’m not a fan of them either, Irene. I grow corn on my farm. I’m in no hurry to wander around even more cornstalks.”

  “Oh! There’s Alice and her husband, Calvin,” Irene said, pointing to a man wearing jeans and a zip-up navy hoodie and a redheaded woman dressed in a modest calf-length dress. “Would you like to meet them?”

  “Of course. I can’t wait to meet them.”

  The smile she gave him was so luminous he felt like he’d just given her the moon.

  It was humbling to realize that only a few weeks ago he probably would’ve avoided them because he knew they both left the Amish faith. Now he realized he would probably do anything so Irene could see her friend Alice. After all, Alice had been there for her when no one else was.

  Looking animated, Irene waved at Alice and increased her pace. Marcus stayed behind her a bit so she could have a moment to give her friend a hug.