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In Time for an Amish Christmas

Page 15

by Samantha Price


  When they sat down, he ordered a drink. “Do you want something to eat? Another drink?"

  "No, but thanks. I’ll just stick with my sparkling water with lime.” This time, she wasn’t concerned about what he thought about her not drinking. “What is it you wanted to see me about?”

  "I had no idea this morning, and that's what I wanted to see you about."

  She thought back over what he said. It didn’t make sense. “I’m sorry. No idea about what?”

  "I thought you and I could go to dinner tonight and then head to Las Vegas for Christmas."

  She was so shocked she burst out laughing. Then her laughter subsided when she realized he was making an indecent proposal. "Frank, you’re married, aren’t you?"

  "Yes, but my wife's away for Christmas. I had no idea she was going away until this morning.”

  Heidi couldn’t believe what she heard. She ran a hand over her head, raking through her cropped hair. It was such an awkward situation. "No. I'm sorry, I just can't do that."

  He leaned forward. "I've always liked you, Heidi.” He reached out and touched her hand, and she pulled it away.

  "This relationship has to be purely business, Frank. I respect you as a developer and a businessman, and as a professional friend, but anything else is totally out of the question."

  He straightened up and his jaw stiffened. Gone was his smile and she was sure she was going to lose the business he’d just given her. “I'm putting a lot of business your way."

  "And I appreciate it, and in return, my staff and I are going to make you a lot of money."

  He stared at her for a while, chuckled, and then wagged his finger at her. "I'm not going to give up on you."

  "When it comes to this, you should. This relationship is just business and that’s all it’ll ever be. I’ve got no idea what made you think otherwise." She gave a little tremble.

  "Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked with rising eyebrows.

  Derek popped into her mind. "Yes, I'm practically married."

  The waiter brought him his drink.

  When the waiter left, he said, "Tell me more about this man you're practically married to."

  "No, I don't talk about him. With you and me.” She pointed to him and then pointed to herself. "This relationship we have is not going to go where you want it to—ever, so if you expect anything more or if I gave you the wrong impression somehow, I'm sorry. If that means you’ll take your business away then do it."

  He breathed out heavily. "A deal is a deal, and we shook on it. I just thought we could have a nice time in Las Vegas."

  "I'm glad we understand each other. Now, I need to know you’ll never say anything like that to me again." She folded her arms and stared at him.

  He smiled. “I won’t. You shouldn’t be so beautiful, though. I mean, what’s a man to do?”

  While she sipped on her drink, she wondered why life was often such a battle. “As soon as I finish this drink, I have to go. I need to get your apartments leased.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.”

  * * *

  After a long drawn out day, and with the stressful meeting at the end of it, Heidi opened the door of her apartment and kicked off her shoes. What if the reason she’d never found love in New York City was because she’d been meant to marry Derek?

  Before she heated her dinner, she settled down to read some more of her grandmother’s diary.

  * * *

  Today I arrived in Oakland Maryland. I can only write a little bit because it’s so late and I need to get some sleep.

  * * *

  I’ve been here a day now, staying with Bishop Silas and his wife, Leah. I found out my mother writes to Leah a lot and they take part in circle letters. They’re the letters that keep arriving at the house. The bishop’s house was full of people all day. Leah explained that they have twelve kinner and the younger ones in the haus are her grosskinner. Since the older three are married and have twelve kinner between them, Leah looks after the young ones during the day. I don’t think I’ve ever met a happier woman than Leah. No matter what I say she laughs about it. She’s a happy person to be around.

  When there was a quiet moment, I asked, “When is Malachi Arnold arriving?”

  She put her hand over her mouth and giggled loudly. “That’s supposed to be a surprise,” she said. “Malachi will be here the day after tomorrow,” she finally told me.

  I told her he has appeared everywhere I’ve stayed, and she pressed her lips together and didn’t say any more.

  Bishop Silas is a quiet man and at first I thought that was because he didn’t like me, or didn’t want me there. I’ve watched him today, though, and saw he’s like that with everyone. The house here is very small and I don’t know where everybody sleeps. They put me in the attic, which is small and only has room for one bed and one nightstand. I have my bag in front of the nightstand and there’s no place for anything else. I can’t hang any of my dresses because I’m under the part of the roof where it slants. It’s hot there, but not too hot to prevent me sleeping.

  One of Leah’s grosskinner, a cute little boy of around six, told me that I’m staying in his playroom. I said I was very sorry and I wouldn’t be staying there for long–just a few days. He got into trouble for saying that to me and this time Leah wasn’t laughing. Her words were stern and she frowned. I felt a little bad for him and when I saw him sitting alone, I wanted to suggest that I play with him. I wanted to make it up with him, but Leah had me too busy in the kitchen.

  Today I’m starting to miss home. It sounded like a big adventure when I started and I’m glad I have traveled long distances, but I’m always tired afterward. I miss Furball. I miss him sleeping on my bed and seeing him during the day under the covers as a lump on my bed. He’s just always there, ready for me to stroke his gray fur. When I speak to him softly, he stretches out and paws at the air and purrs loudly. I like cats because they don’t demand anything and are just there when you want to talk to them. They don’t come chasing after you like dogs do. At least, Furball doesn’t.

  * * *

  Today, Leah’s oldest daughter, Becky, who isn't married, collected me and took me back to her house. She showed me what she does for a living. She makes clay tiles and I can’t believe she sells enough of them to make enough money to live on. The tiles are really pretty. She takes them to the markets to sell them, and sometimes she sells them at roadside stalls.

  I asked Becky what kind of clay she uses and she said she uses the kind of clay that teacups are made out of. She does it all out in her barn and she has three big kilns. There were so many different patterns of tiles. I can’t imagine someone tiling a whole kitchen with these tiles but perhaps they’d look good with a few in amongst a whole lot of plain tiles. That might look all right. She showed me how the tiles are fired in a kiln, pressed, then glazed. Once they’re glazed it gives them a lovely smooth surface to apply the decorations. They even used pictures from postcards on some of the tiles, by tracing the pictures by hand, and then lastly putting them in the kiln again.

  I was at Becky’s place for a good part of the day and she even let me make a tile. I traced one of the pictures and then it was put into the kiln. Then she took me back to Leah’s in time to help with the evening meal. It was such a wonderful day and she said she’d bring the tile over when it was finished firing and I could take it home with me.

  Tomorrow is the Sunday meeting and it’s to be held at Becky’s house. She said there were going to be three baptisms.

  * * *

  Reading about the meeting and baptism reminded Heidi that she couldn’t see herself living in the community, in the closed off life and wearing those shapeless clothes. She was an individual, and the idea of the community was to play down individuality. But didn’t God see everybody as individuals? If the very hairs on our head are numbered, surely we are individuals in God’s sight?

  The trouble was, she thought differently than everybody else in the community. Heidi
wasn’t about to just take what the oversight leaders told her. She questioned things and there were things that couldn’t be explained, like what had happened to her.

  With a better understanding of who her grandmother was, she threw the book down on the coffee table and then headed to put her dinner in the microwave. It was the same old routine, but tonight, she didn’t even bother surfing through the TV channels. She grabbed her dinner out of the microwave, sat on her wide window seat and looked down at the traffic and the crowds. As she ate, she watched the world go by.

  * * *

  Later that evening, emptiness washed over Heidi. She yearned for her comfortable Amish home, her kinner, and Derek. She’d give up everything just for another moment with them. That was where she belonged. She knew that now, but had she left things too late? Had she sacrificed her opportunity when she asked God to bring her back to New York City?

  Emptiness gnawed at her heart.

  Chapter 20

  That night, she picked up her grandmother’s diary again and prayed to go back home, back to Derek and the children. In the brief time she’d been with them, she’d found looking after the children tough, but at times it had been wonderful. All of life had ups and downs and she wanted to spend them all with her family—the good times and the bad.

  She turned her face up to heaven and prayed once more. “God, if any of this is real and I can go to my other reality, I’m asking you to please take me back to Derek and my family. I feel that is where I belong. Amen.” To help her prayers be answered, she took her grandmother’s book to bed, so she could replicate exactly what she had done when she’d crossed dimensions the last two times.

  * * *

  She opened the book at the last entry anxious to know if Agnes had married the man she was falling for. Had Agnes’s mother arranged for Malachi to be everywhere Agnes went?

  These were the last pages of her grandmother’s entries. If God blessed Heidi and by some miracle she ended back with the children and Derek, she’d try every last one of the recipes Agnes had recorded.

  She could barely stay awake, but she found she couldn’t wait to find out which of those men had become her grandfather. Even though she’d never met her paternal grandmother, now she knew her. Perhaps that’s why Agnes had kept a diary, for the following generations to learn from.

  * * *

  I’m starting to see a pattern as I go from place to place. Everybody seems to be an expert on one special thing, or some special dish. I wonder what Leah’s speciality is. Dinner tonight was nice, but it was just plain old roasted chicken and roasted vegetables. That was that. It was nice, but there was no special recipe and no secrets to learn. All there was to do was put the meat and the vegetables in the oven. Anybody could do that.

  What speciality does Leah have? She must have one and I’m going to ask her tomorrow.

  * * *

  Heidi turned the page to keep reading. "Ah, this must be the next night because she starts on a new page," she said to herself.

  * * *

  I found out that Leah is an expert bread maker. I thought that’s what Aunt Elsie was, but Aunt Elsie could do everything well. Leah told me that one of the things about making bread was to knead the dough very well to make sure there are no air bubbles.

  Before I started making bread, I thought that the more air in the dough, the more it would rise, but no, that’s not right. I mentioned that to Leah, and she laughed.

  Leah also said to let it stand for a good forty minutes before putting it into the oven and the dough should double in size. To check if it’s ready, put your thumb into the dough about an inch, if the mixture springs back into place, it’s not ready to go into the oven. If the hole stays there, it’s ready to be baked.

  It also shocked me to learn that the weather can affect the bread. No one had ever told me that before.

  Once the bread is done, Leah said to take it out of the pan immediately so it doesn’t sweat.

  Leah has a special bread starter that was her mother’s and she will give some of it to me to take when I leave. She said if I use the bread starter and follow her instructions exactly, then my bread should be every bit as good as hers. If it isn’t, she said to keep trying and keep at it.

  Because there are so many mouths to feed at the house here, Leah makes bread every day. The smell of the bread reminds me so much of home.

  I’m excited because Malachi is arriving tomorrow. He’ll be staying at Leah’s oldest son’s house. I met him today, his name is James and his wife is Emily. Their son, Caleb, is the one who’s annoyed because I’m sleeping in the attic space that he says is his playroom. That’s all I can write now because I’m so tired. I’m more than half way through the pages in this book. I hope the pages don’t run out before I get back home. There are no mercantiles around here to buy another one just like this one.

  * * *

  Day three of staying with Leah and the bishop. Malachi arrived today. I was having a break from the kitchen duties and was out in the yard playing catch with Caleb when a buggy drove up to the house. I held my breath and hoped it was Malachi, and it was. James had brought Malachi to say hello to his (James's) parents.

  I had a chance to talk to him when Caleb ran to his father. Malachi gave me a big smile and I asked him what he was doing there.

  He said again that he was just traveling around. I asked him if he thought it strange that we keep seeing each other and he said he didn’t think it was. Now I know that he is without a clue that my mother is trying to pair us together. If he knew, we could’ve laughed about it. Before I could say anything, Leah came out of the house to greet him. She invited him to dinner that night and James asked if they could come tomorrow instead because his wife had already cooked a special dinner for tonight. So now I get to see Malachi tomorrow night for dinner here at the house.

  I’m looking forward to making more bread tomorrow. I didn’t know it was so involved. There definitely is a difference in the taste and texture between Leah’s bread and Mamm’s. I guess that means it's worth the extra effort.

  Before he left, James asked me if I would like to go with Malachi tomorrow and have a look at James’s onkel’s place where he makes buggies. I looked over at Leah to see if she would mind. I didn’t know if my mother would like me doing something without the approval of my host family.

  Leah smiled and suggested that I go along and said I’d enjoy it. Now I’m seeing a lot of Malachi tomorrow.

  James is coming to the house at ten to get me and then bringing me back in the mid-afternoon. I guess that will be in time to help Leah with the dinner. Anyway, if I’m late, there are plenty of other helpers here. Her two teenage girls are fourteen and fifteen. They are nothing like Leah. They are quiet and more like their father. The rest of Leah and the bishop’s kinner are boys.

  * * *

  Now it’s day four at Leah’s and I’ve already been to the buggy-maker's. Today has been the best day of my life. I got such a surprise when I was waiting outside for James and then when the buggy pulled up I saw that the driver of the buggy was Malachi. It turns out that James couldn’t come at the last minute, and Malachi had been given directions to the place with the buggies. I wasn’t really interested in seeing how they made buggies. I’ve seen enough of it before, back in my community. I only said yes to James so I could spend more time with Malachi.

  If I’d known it was just going to be Malachi and me, I might have talked to Leah and organized a picnic basket. I could tell by the look on Malachi’s face he was pleased to be taking me to the Wilsons' buggy making yard.

  * * *

  Mr. Wilson was waiting outside when we got there. He was wearing a straw hat, and he had a long white beard and thin-rimmed round glasses, and he was wearing dark gray pants and a long-sleeved lighter-gray shirt.

  He told us that Amish buggies were always changing. The wheels were changing and he was now making wheels similar to racing buggies. Other places buy his buggy wheels, he said with a mix of pride
and modesty.

  * * *

  Then he said next week he and his wife were heading to York and they could take me in their buggy. It seemed everyone knew exactly where I was going and for how long I was staying. I thanked him and said I would appreciate going with them to York. Then I couldn’t stop smiling because I will be so close to home when I get to York, and I miss everyone so much.

  Then Mr. Wilson told us about how the buggies in different communities were slightly different. Malachi and I both knew that by now and had noticed different colors and different styles during our travels. He said that, just like cars, the buggies were continually improving and slight changes were being made all the time.

  When Mr. Wilson finished showing us around, we both thanked him. It was a very nice thing for him to take time off his work and show us so many things. His wife came out with lemonade and sandwiches and we all sat in the shade of a large tree and ate while the two dogs sat watching us, hoping for some tidbits. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson warned me not to feed them, or they wouldn’t leave me alone. It was hard to watch the small dogs looking at me with their large brown eyes as I put the food into my mouth.

  When we were done, we had a lovely drive back to Leah’s house.

  I turned to Malachi and was brave. This is what I said, “Are you traveling to different communities because you’re looking for a fraa?”

  He looked over at me and smiled. “Why would I tell you that? It might be a secret.”

  “I won’t tell anyone. Have you found anybody you like yet?”

  He chuckled and I’m sure I saw him blush. Then he looked over at me. “Who said that’s what I’ve been doing?”

 

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