An Amish Wedding

by Kathleen Fuller; Beth Wiseman Kelly Long

  “I won’t. I’ll make sure of that.” Zeke rose from the chair and started to leave the kitchen.

  “Wait.” Naomi opened the cabinets under the sink and withdrew an aerosol can with a yellow lid. “Bug spray. Not sure if it will work on hornets, but it’s worth a try.”

  Two hours later Zeke was finishing the last of the repairs on the roof. He’d located the hornets’ nest, which was underneath the extended roof that covered the back porch, and sprayed it down thoroughly. He hadn’t been stung since. Even though the stings still smarted a bit, he wasn’t going to let that keep him from finishing the job. By the end of the afternoon he’d repaired the hole in the ceiling as well. He was rolling up the plastic sheeting when Naomi came into the living room. She looked up at his repair and smiled.

  “I can’t thank you enough for all your help. And on your vacation too. I still feel awful about the hornet stings.”

  “I survived.” He grinned. “And I didn’t mind doing the job.”

  “I want to repay you in some way. Other than the money for the materials, of course.” She looked up at him. “I’d like to invite you to supper at my haus this Saturday evening. If you’re free, that is.”

  “I just so happen to be free. What time?”

  “Around five?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  She nodded, her cheeks plumping as her smile widened. “I should get back to the kitchen. Margaret left a little while ago, and I’ve got a couple of spice cakes in the oven. Oh, I almost forgot.” She left the room, returning a moment later with his jacket. “I should have given this to you earlier. Maybe it would have helped against the hornets.”

  “I doubt it.” He took the jacket and slipped it on. “Well, guess I’ll see you Saturday.”

  “Ya. See you then.”

  As he walked outside, he couldn’t stop smiling.

  SATURDAY EVENING ZEKE REMOVED HIS HAT AND smoothed down his hair, then put it back on. He stood in front of Naomi’s door, suddenly a bundle of nerves. He glanced around the property, taking it in closely for the first time. The Kings didn’t live too far from his aunt and uncle’s house, and like them they had a nice piece of land. Naomi’s small white house was situated behind the backyard, with a stone path leading from her front porch to the back of the main house. Two large maple trees had already started shedding their vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves, but Naomi’s porch, which ran the front length of the house, was spotless. Two potted orange mums were on the ground on either side of the door, and a flower box filled with marigolds hung beneath the window to the right.

  Flowers. He should have brought some. Obviously Naomi liked them. But he couldn’t dash out and find some now.

  His palms grew damp as he reached to knock on the door. He’d been thinking about seeing Naomi as he did odd jobs on Chester’s house while his cousins and uncle were at work. Get it together, Lapp!

  Zeke knocked on the door, then quickly ran his palms down his thighs. The door opened right away. As soon as he saw her, his anxiety disappeared.

  “Come in, Zeke.” Naomi smiled and opened the door wider.

  When he crossed the threshold, he inhaled the most delicious aromas, the strongest being a robust, smoky smell. Was that steak? He detected the faint scent of cinnamon and fruit. Apple pie? His mouth watered in concert with his growling belly.

  “Let me take your coat.”

  He handed her his jacket and hat, and she hung them on a peg next to the door.

  “What would you like to drink? I have water, iced tea, lemonade, soda, and coffee.”

  “Iced tea will be fine.”

  She gestured to the couch in the living room. “Please have a seat, and I’ll bring it to you. Supper will be ready shortly.” She smiled, then disappeared into a narrow hallway that led to the back of the house.

  Zeke frowned slightly. She was acting so formal. Maybe she was a little nervous about tonight, although she seemed more distant than nervous. He wished she’d invited him into the kitchen. He’d rather talk and watch her cook than sit here waiting for her to serve him.

  He perched on the sofa, his hands clasped between his knees. Glancing at the ceiling, he could see where he’d repaired the hole. It didn’t look too bad, but the spot was a little whiter than the rest of the ceiling. Maybe he should offer to paint the whole thing so it would all match. The interior of the house was as neat as the outside, and simply furnished. He eyed the pale green couch, matching chair, and an end table with a plain gas lamp on top. Next to the chair was a basket filled with what looked like a neat stack of blue and white quilt strips. As he’d noticed the first time he stepped into the house, everything about the room reflected Naomi—tidy and practical.

  She was the first woman he’d met who lived on her own. And he had to wonder—did she get lonely like he did? He didn’t like the idea of her being here by herself, even though he could tell she was capable of living alone. But he hoped she didn’t feel the same hollow loneliness he knew.

  She entered the room, and he stood up, noticing her rosy cheeks and the small spot of grease on her apron. He doubted she knew it was there. She handed him the glass of iced tea and said, “Supper is ready. I don’t have a formal dining room, so you’ll have to eat in the kitchen.”

  “I don’t mind.” He breathed in the sweet scent of apples again. He was more than ready to tear into the meal. But even beyond that, he was eager to get to know Naomi better. Smiling, he followed her to the kitchen, more excited about being alone with her than he’d ever been on any of the dates he’d gone on in Middlefield. Then he entered the kitchen, and his smile slipped.

  Sitting at the table was Margaret. She gave him a shy smile, then looked down at her plate. And he saw something that made his stomach drop.

  Two place settings. Only two.

  Chapter Four

  NAOMI WIPED HER HANDS ON HER APRON AND GLANCED at Margaret. A blush bloomed on her friend’s cheeks as she looked at Zeke. Naomi understood why. He looked particularly handsome this evening in his light blue shirt, black suspenders, and denim broadfall pants. He combed his fingers through his bangs and sat down across from Margaret.

  Another pinch of jealousy ran through Naomi. In a way, she wished she were joining them for supper. But she had planned this meal for Margaret and Zeke. She needed to serve it, then get out of their way. She brought out the freshly grilled steak where it was keeping warm in the oven and put it on the table.

  Zeke’s eyes rounded as he grinned. “Smells appeditlich,” he said, staring at the steak. Then he looked at her, his grin widening.

  Her pulse quickened and she looked away. Suddenly she’d become as shy as Margaret. She put three more dishes on the table—creamy broccoli and cheese casserole, roasted potato wedges with thyme and rosemary, and homemade knotted rolls. She placed a pitcher of tea near Margaret and said, “If you need anything else, I’ll be in the living room. Enjoy your meal.” She turned to leave when Zeke’s voice stopped her.

  “You’re not joining us, Naomi?”

  Was that hope she saw in his hazel eyes?

  “Nee. I ate earlier during my cooking class. We always sample the dishes after we prepare them.” She gave an encouraging smile to Margaret, who looked a little deflated by the attention Zeke was giving Naomi. “You two enjoy the meal. Just make sure you leave room for the apple pie later.”

  Before Zeke could say anything else, she went to the living room and plopped down in the recliner.

  She closed her eyes, fatigue seeping into her. She’d spent the day teaching her cooking class, then a couple more hours preparing supper for Zeke and Margaret. Plus Margaret had been a mess when she arrived. It had taken Naomi at least ten minutes to calm her down. She wondered if her friend was always this disconcerted around men. No wonder she needed help in the dating department.

  Naomi opened her eyes, concerned that if she kept them closed much longer she would fall asleep. She picked up her sewing from the basket on the floor near the chair and lai
d the four connected quilt strips on her lap. While Naomi felt confident in the kitchen, sewing was another matter. Yet from the time she heard Priscilla say she wanted a wedding ring quilt, Naomi decided to make one for her as a wedding present. She’d started it three weeks ago, but she couldn’t get the pattern to match up. As she inspected the curved strips, which she had cut from a template, she could see places where the stitching was uneven. But she couldn’t rip it all apart again. She didn’t have as much time as she wanted to piece the material, add the batting, and quilt it together. She had to settle for imperfect stitches if she was to have the quilt completed by their wedding. Hopefully Priscilla wouldn’t notice.

  Naomi picked up a quilt block from the basket and matched the edges to the pieces she’d already put together and pinned them in place. After threading the needle, she had just started on the first stitch when Margaret burst into the room, nearly in tears.

  “Naomi, you have to help me. This is a disaster!”

  ZEKE CHOKED DOWN THE JUICY PIECE OF STEAK HE’D been chewing and looked at the empty spot across the table. The food was delicious, but the company awkward. It wasn’t that Margaret wasn’t a nice girl. She was kinda pretty too. But Naomi had been gone barely five minutes before conversation between him and Margaret ground to a halt. She’d gaped at him, her eyes as wide as full moons, her face turning bright red. Then as soon as he put the bite of steak in his mouth, she fled the room.

  None of this made sense. Why would Naomi invite him over for supper to thank him for helping her and make this wonderful meal, only to leave him alone with Margaret? She had specifically used the word date.

  Then it became clear—Naomi had no intention of dining with him tonight. It had all been a ruse to set him up on a date with Margaret, not her. To say he was disappointed was an understatement. He’d looked forward to spending the evening with Naomi. Now even the tender steak tasted like rubber in his mouth.

  He put down his knife and fork and eyed the back door. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was tiny, and he looked out the window to the back porch, which led to a small yard. The fleeting thought of sneaking out while the women were occupied entered his mind, but he wasn’t capable of doing something that cowardly. Still, he didn’t appreciate being brought here under false pretenses.

  He glanced around the kitchen, spying a bud vase with two small sunflowers and three orange carnations on the windowsill. It was October, so Naomi obviously had bought them in a store. Or maybe someone had given them to her. The idea of her getting flowers from some man twisted something in his gut.

  After a few more minutes he pushed away from the table, intending to go home. This so-called date was a disaster. He didn’t know what he had said or done to offend Margaret, but she should have been back by now. Just as he was about to get up, both Margaret and Naomi came back into the kitchen.

  “Sorry.” Margaret sat down and put her napkin in her lap. She stared at her plate, her chin dipped so far that he could only see the neat part of her blond hair and the black bobby pins that pinned her kapp to her head.

  “It’s all right.” But his attention turned from Margaret to Naomi, who was getting another dish down from the cupboard. Without a word she filled her plate and sat down between him and Margaret at her round kitchen table.

  “I decided I was hungry after all.” She gave Zeke an awkward smile. She picked up the butter dish and set it beside her plate. “Hope you don’t mind if I join you.”

  “Not at all.” He glanced at Margaret, who was shoving pieces of roll into her mouth. She still wouldn’t look at him. This was one unusual girl.

  “So, Margaret,” Naomi said as she cut her steak. “You and Zeke have something in common.”

  Margaret looked at Naomi with those wide eyes of hers. Naomi tilted her head to the side, prompting Margaret to look at Zeke as she swallowed.

  “Oh. Ya. Naomi said you have a lot of bruders and schwesters.”

  “Chester mentioned it,” Naomi said at Zeke’s questioning look.

  “I do.” He scooted his chair toward the table. He turned his gaze to Margaret and smiled, hoping to put her at ease. “I suppose you do too, ya?”

  Margaret opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Instead she glanced at Naomi with a helpless expression on her face.

  Naomi’s eyes flitted toward Zeke, then back to Margaret. But still Margaret remained silent, so Naomi spoke. “Margaret’s the oldest of eleven. All maed.”

  “Eleven maed?” His brow shot up.

  “ElisabethRuthCarolMaryRachelRebeccaAmandaHannah LydiaandKatherine.”

  Zeke’s brow shot higher as Margaret spoke. “What?”

  “Mei schwesters. ElisabethRuthCarolMary—”

  “I think Zeke got their names the first time, Margaret.” Naomi picked up the basket of rolls and handed it to her. “Would you like some more bread?”

  “Oh, ya.” Margaret snatched another roll, tore it in half, and stuffed it into her mouth.

  Zeke had been on plenty of awkward dates, but this one beat them all. He glanced at Naomi, who reached out and squeezed Margaret’s hand for a second, then let it go and put her hands in her lap. Nice to see how much she cared for her friend.

  Naomi turned to him while Margaret chowed down on the roll. “Is the haus coming along, Zeke? I haven’t had much of a chance lately to ask Priscilla about it.”

  “Coming along well enough. I installed some cabinets in the kitchen yesterday. The haus is going to be a gut one when it’s finished.”

  “I’m sure it will. Although I hope you’re not working too hard. This is your vacation, after all.”

  “Ya, but I don’t mind.” He took a forkful of broccoli and cheese casserole. “I’d rather be busy then just twiddling my thumbs. I’m hoping to take a drive through Lancaster County sometime before the wedding. I’m sure it’s changed a lot. Would be nice to have someone show me around.” He looked at Naomi, hoping she might take the hint.

  Suddenly Margaret made a choking sound. Zeke’s gaze darted to her face, which was turning a reddish-purple. He jumped up from the chair.

  NAOMI WATCHED IN HORROR AS MARGARET’S EYES bulged. But before she could move, Zeke was behind Margaret. He yanked her from the chair as if she were a rag doll and put her in front of him. He placed his arms around her from behind, clasped his hands together under her rib cage, and squeezed. A chunk of bread flew out of Margaret’s mouth, landing on the floor. She leaned against him, gasping for breath.

  Naomi popped up from her chair. “Are you all right?” Her gaze went to Zeke, who still held on to Margaret.

  Margaret finally nodded. “Ya,” she said, her voice raspy. Then, as if she just realized what had happened, her face turned red again and she moved out of Zeke’s grasp. She ran out the back door.

  “I’ll check on her.”

  Zeke nodded as Naomi followed after Margaret. She found her friend standing by her buggy, leaning her forehead against the side.

  “I’m an idiot.” Margaret didn’t look at Naomi. Instead she kept her head pressed against the buggy, her hands down at her sides.

  “Nee, you’re not.” Naomi moved to stand beside her. “It was an accident. And now you’re all right.”

  “Thanks to Zeke, I am.” She looked at Naomi, her eyes brimming with tears, her face still red.

  Naomi couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or from her choking.

  “I’m sure he thinks I’m a fool.”

  “If he does then he’s the fool, not you.” She put her hand on Margaret’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come back inside? I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  “I’m not going back in there.” Margaret wiped her cheeks with the tips of her fingers. “I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day.” She sighed, clasping her hands in front of her. “For a lifetime, actually.”

  “Margaret, you’re not the first person ever to choke. And from how quickly he acted, Zeke knew exactly what to do. I’m sure he understands.”

/>   “But it’s not just the choking. I made a fool of myself way before that. I can’t even talk to him like a normal person. I’m always like that around mann. It’s like my brain goes seltsam or something. I can’t think straight, I trip over my tongue, and I end up doing something stupid.”

  More than anything Naomi wanted to give her friend a hug. But she didn’t want Margaret to think she pitied her. Which she did, a little. She’d had no idea Margaret, the capable, confident baker, fell completely apart whenever she was around a man.

  “I’m going home.” Margaret moved to unhitch her horse from the buggy.

  Naomi followed her. “Without telling Zeke good-bye?”

  “Can you tell him for me?” She untied the horse and brought the reins to the front of the buggy, then climbed in and turned to Naomi. “I can’t face him right now.”

  “But, Margaret—”

  “I’m sorry, Naomi. I appreciate your helping me. I really do. But I think I’m a lost cause.” As Naomi opened her mouth to protest, Margaret guided the buggy down the driveway.

  Naomi stood there, watching her go. Now she had to explain everything to Zeke. She’d been so sure he and Margaret would hit it off. How could she have been so wrong?

  When Margaret disappeared down the road, Naomi went inside. Her brow lifted when she saw Zeke standing at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” he said, up to his elbows in soap bubbles. “I figured we were finished with the meal anyway.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” She went to the sink, then stopped. What was she going to do, pull his hands out of the dishwater?

  “I know.” He looked at her and smiled. “But I can’t sit still. Been a problem for me ever since I was a kinn. I always had to be moving. Gave my mudder and my teachers fits.”

  Naomi nodded. “Sarah Mae is like that. My youngest schwester. She picked up a dishtowel. “If you’re washing, then I’m drying.”