An Amish Picnic

by Amy Clipston

  “Just a little.” She smiled.

  Daed chuckled. “You got that right. I almost didn’t recognize her at the bus station.”

  “You’ve changed since I last saw you too,” she said to Ira, looking up at him. “A lot.”

  “Ira, take Margaret’s bag upstairs. She’s staying in Ivy and Karen’s old room.”

  He lifted the suitcase and looked at his cousin. “I’ll put it at the foot of the bed.”

  “Danki.” She turned to Daed. “Where’s Aenti Mary?”

  “Right here.” Mamm bustled into the living room and gave Margaret a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She stepped back and looked Margaret over. “You’re the spitting image of yer mamm.”

  Margaret nodded with a grin. “I’ve been told that once or a dozen times. A shorter version of her, that is.”

  That was true. She was small. Not quite as petite as his sister Ivy, who was a little under five feet tall, but she wasn’t much taller. Ira realized a gene must run in the Yoder family that affected both women. His sister Karen was a more typical height for a woman, and Ira and all three of his brothers stood over six feet.

  “Ivy and Karen went to Millersburg to visit some friends, but they’ll be back on Monday,” Mamm said.

  Mamm’s and Margaret’s voices faded away as Ira climbed the stairs. He put Margaret’s bag in his sisters’ old bedroom and then joined the rest of the family in the kitchen. Supper was already on the table, and Judah was pouring glasses of iced tea.

  “This looks delicious, Aenti.” Margaret sat down at the table and smiled.

  “I remembered you like pork chops.” Mamm’s eyes sparkled.

  His cousin looked at the platter of juicy pork chops in the middle of the table. “That I do.”

  Ira wondered why Mamm was so happy to see Margaret and why she’d made one of her favorites. They hadn’t visited Margaret’s family in years, and while they were close family blood wise, they felt distant to Ira. He was closer to his friends in Birch Creek than to any family in Holmes County.

  Then it struck him. Even though his sisters visited quite often, Mamm must miss having them living here. He figured it was nice for her to have another female in the house, even for a little while.

  After they said a silent prayer and started passing the serving dishes, Mamm said, “Again, I’m sorry Freemont, Judah, and I won’t be here tomorrow. We planned our trip to Cleveland over a month ago, and it’s not an outing we can reschedule.”

  “That’s all right.” Margaret looked at Ira. “I’m looking forward to fishing tomorrow. It’s been a long time since I last went.”

  “I thought you liked fishing,” Ira said.

  “I do. At least I did. I just kind of lost interest in it when I grew up.”

  That was the end of his conversation with Margaret because his mother took over. She started discussing female things like sewing and cooking, which Margaret seemed more interested in than fishing.

  When they finished eating, Daed volunteered Judah to clean the kitchen so they could continue their conversation in the living room. Ira knew Judah wasn’t thrilled with that. But although his brother would have protested in the past, he’d grown up a lot since the fire had destroyed most of their farm. Ira knew Judah still blamed himself because he was the one who’d decided to burn old wood and leaves on a windy day. Then the flames had burned out of control. But he’d learned a hard lesson, and the family had all forgiven him. He just hoped Judah would eventually forgive himself.

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Ira said, feeling a bit sorry for his little brother. Between the two of them, they made quick work of cleaning the kitchen, and then he and Judah started on the evening chores.

  As he fed the horses and Judah checked on the cows, Ira turned his thoughts back to Margaret. She was as nice as he’d remembered, and now that he’d spent a little time with her, he believed she and Nina would get along. He was thankful now that Margaret was going—despite initially seeing her as an intrusion. His last fishing day with Nina had been a little awkward, and maybe having another female to talk to would help her sort out whatever was going on. He wanted whatever it took to get their relationship back on track. Otherwise, he didn’t know how he’d shake feeling so off-kilter.

  * * *

  The next day, Nina arrived at the pond earlier than usual. The sky was overcast, with solid gray clouds obscuring the sun and threatening rain. That worried her. In her daydreams, taking up most of her thoughts since yesterday, rain hadn’t been a factor. The weather, like everything else between them, had been magically perfect.

  But life wasn’t magical or perfect, and now her stomach started churning again as she looked up at the cloudy sky. Actually, she wasn’t just worried about the rain. She was worried about everything. She glanced at the picnic basket she’d just set down on the grass, her fishing pole to one side, glad it was Ira’s turn to bring bait. While she’d remained positive about the picnic until this moment, now that she was here, she couldn’t stem the anxiety pooling inside her. She should have just canceled the picnic and even fishing altogether. Her grandmother would have more than a few words to say about that decision, but Nina could tune her out. She’d done it many times before.

  But it was too late to cancel, so she had to make the best of it, along with getting herself together before Ira arrived. She spread out the quilt, which was well worn, very soft, and perfect for a picnic by the pond. Then she tried to straighten the wrinkles the best she could. She didn’t know exactly what time it was, but she knew Ira had to be arriving soon. Taking a deep breath, she asked God to make sure everything would go well, and then she opened the picnic basket and peeked inside, trying to keep her hands from trembling.

  Once she started pulling out the food, she couldn’t help but smile. Grossmutter had outdone herself. The fried chicken was covered in thick layers of foil and still warm. She found coleslaw, apple slices, three different kinds of cheese, grapes, fresh bread and butter, a jar of pickles, and of course, peach cobbler for dessert. Her appetite kicked in as she set out the plates and metal utensils and put the cloth napkins under each knife and fork. A breeze swirled around her, and she grabbed the plates before they blew away, although the chance of that was slim since they were made of thin plastic, not paper. Still, she didn’t want anything to go wrong. She set the utensils and napkins on the plates, making sure they stayed put.

  She sat back, curling her legs under her. Then she sat cross-legged, making sure her skirt covered her knees. Or maybe she should lounge on her side, looking casual. She stretched out her legs and leaned on her elbow. No, that wasn’t right either. She moved closer to the edge of the quilt and tried to find another sitting position. Giving up, she decided to stand. Her knee caught on the hem of her dress, and she tumbled right on top of the food.

  “Nina?”

  Oh nee. Slowly, she lifted her head and saw Ira, fishing pole and creel in his hands, a stunned expression on his handsome face. And he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was a very pretty, petite girl with a perfect figure and a bright complexion even the most devout Amish woman would envy.

  “Uh, uh . . .” The words caught in Nina’s throat. When she tried to scramble to her feet, she tipped over the jar of pickles, whose lid she’d loosened moments before. The vinegar-scented juice soaked into her dress and, horrifyingly, into her grandmother’s precious quilt. She also saw that the foil covering the peach cobbler was half off the casserole dish and that a round-shaped depression sat in the middle of its golden crust. She glanced down at her chest, mortified by the big glob of cobbler covering it.

  Ira’s gaze darted back and forth between the destroyed picnic and Nina. “What’s all this?”

  She started to explain, but her voice sounded like she’d choked on a spoonful of peanut butter. She cleared her throat. “I, uh, brought a . . . picnic.”

  He looked a little confused. “Huh. I wish I’d known. I would have told you to bring extra.” He gestured to the woman s
tanding next to him. “Nina, meet Margaret.”

  “Hi,” Nina muttered. She snatched one of the napkins to wipe off her dress, only to flip a fork into the air. It landed tines first in the grass next to the quilt. She should just stop moving altogether.

  “You two don’t worry about me,” Margaret said. “I had a large breakfast this morning, so I’m not very hungry.”

  Even her voice was perfect—light, sweet, and feminine. Nina glanced up at her. Margaret was smiling, and she also carried a fishing pole. Why hadn’t Ira said anything about bringing another girl? And where did he find her? Definitely not in Birch Creek.

  Ira crouched beside Nina and handed her another napkin. A swift wind kicked up, ruffling his hair. He wasn’t wearing a hat today, and his hair looked so thick and inviting. He was close enough for her to run her fingers through it—

  “Ira.” Margaret’s lilting voice sang out. “What did you do with the bait?”

  “It’s in the creel.” His gaze didn’t move from Nina’s. Then he glanced at the food she’d laid out. “It looks like you’ve gone to a lot of trouble.”

  “Nee trouble.” Nina tried to laugh, but it came out like a loud bark. Could this possibly get any worse? When Ira frowned again, she tried to recover. “Grossmutter made everything. In fact, she also made me bring the picnic today.”

  “Why?”

  Why? Uh-oh. She hadn’t been prepared to answer that. “Because . . . because . . .” She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. Jumping to her feet, she knocked Ira back on his heels. Tears flooded her eyes, and her mind and heart raced. Not only could she not answer a simple question, but she couldn’t stop feeling like a fool. Ira had brought another girl. A pretty one. Clearly his type, which Nina clearly was not. And he hadn’t told her. Then again, why would he? He didn’t owe her an explanation. He had the right to bring someone to their special fishing times. Obviously, though, they weren’t that special to him. Not at all.

  The surroundings that always made her feel so tranquil, that had been her refuge since she moved from Wisconsin, now closed in on her, as if the pond and trees were mocking her idiocy at thinking she and Ira had something more than friendship between them. She couldn’t stay here anymore. She fled toward the woods.

  “Nina!” Ira called out.

  She ignored him. She should have never listened to Grossmutter and Selah. She should have never allowed herself to hope. She should have known Ira would find someone eventually. And she should have known that when he did, it would break her heart.

  Chapter 4

  Ira looked at the wrecked spread of food in front of him. Seeing the pickle juice spilled on the quilt, he grabbed the jar and screwed the lid back on. He could smell the fried chicken, and the coleslaw looked delicious. Although the cobbler had a big dip where Nina had fallen on it, it still looked scrumptious with its brown crust and peach filling bursting through.

  But he couldn’t concentrate on food, which was unusual for him. He jumped to his feet and, bewildered, looked in the direction where Nina had disappeared. Why had she run off like that? And why had she brought such a fancy picnic—even if her grandmother wanted her to? Usually they each brought a sandwich and maybe an apple or a bag of chips. But this was a full spread, complete with a wicker picnic basket.

  “I hope I didn’t ruin things with you and yer maedel,” Margaret said, walking toward him.

  “She’s not mei maedel.” He glanced at the woods again. Should he go after her?

  “Oh, I didn’t realize. I figured with you two having a standing fishing date on Saturdays—”

  “They’re not dates,” he said with a frown, still trying to figure out if he should go find Nina.

  “Okay.” Margaret pressed her lips together and then spread her hands toward the picnic. “Did you forget a special occasion, then? Because this looks like more than a friendly picnic to me.”

  Ira shot an annoyed look at her. “Nee, no special occasion.” At least he didn’t think so. Had he forgotten something important? He couldn’t imagine what they had to celebrate that required delicious-looking food—all his favorites.

  Margaret shook her head. “She looked really upset, Ira.”

  He couldn’t deny that. “I know.” What he didn’t know was why. None of this made sense.

  She moved to stand in front of him, craning her neck to look him in the eye. “Why aren’t you checking on her?”

  Ira rubbed the back of his neck. “I was thinking I’d let her cool off for a little while.”

  His cousin’s eyes widened. “Don’t you want to know why she’s upset?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I’m confused.” She frowned as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  Still bewildered, he said, “You and me both.”

  Margaret tilted her head as she looked at him for another moment or two. Then she pointed to the woods. “Geh find her, Ira. I’ll clean up here and take everything back to yer haus.”

  Her words yanked him out of his fog. She was right. He had to find out once and for all what was going on with Nina. “All right,” he said, grabbing Nina’s fishing pole and then turning to her. He glanced at the picnic again. “Sorry to leave you alone like this.”

  She smiled. “Hey, I’m a big maedel. Well, not that big,” she said with a chuckle. “But I can manage alone. I might even do a little fishing after I clean up.”

  But Ira was already heading for the woods, only half hearing her. “I’ll meet you back at the haus,” he said over his shoulder. “We can geh fishing another time.”

  “Ira.”

  He turned around but took a few steps backward. “Ya?”

  “You might think you and Nina are just friends, but friends don’t geh to this much trouble for a picnic.”

  He halted. “She said her grossmutter made her do it.”

  “Maybe she’s seen how Nina looks at you, the same way I saw her looking at you when we got here.”

  “Huh?”

  Margaret shook her head and chuckled. “Never mind. Geh talk to her and make things right.”

  Ira nodded and left, wondering what Margaret was going on about. Women. They didn’t make any sense.

  * * *

  Nina ran all the way back to the inn, and by the time she got there she was gasping for breath. Only when she reached the front porch did she realize she’d left behind not only her fishing pole but the picnic basket, quilt, and food. She groaned. On top of everything else, Grossmutter would be upset with her for that. But she couldn’t go back there. First, she didn’t have the energy. Running all the way from the pond wasn’t a great idea, in hindsight. Second, she was too embarrassed to show her face again to Ira and his freind Margaret.

  She plopped down on the swing and took in gulps of air. How was she going to face Ira after what happened? He had to think she was a complete fool. Then again, maybe his opinion of her didn’t matter to him anymore now that he had Margaret. Here she’d been pining away for him when he was already courting another girl. Her jaw clenched.

  The front door swung open, and Selah came outside. She raised a surprised brow. “I didn’t expect you back so soon. How did it geh?”

  Nina banged her head against the back of the swing. “It didn’t.”

  “What do you mean?” Selah sat down beside her.

  As Nina explained the disaster, the wind continued to pick up, and a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. “Of course, I left the basket, food, and quilt at the pond. Even mei fishing pole.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Now it’s going to rain on it all.”

  “I’m sure Ira gathered everything and took it to his haus.”

  “If he wasn’t too busy with Margaret,” Nina huffed.

  Selah pressed her lips together and put her arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This is mei fault. I should have minded mei own business and let you and Ira figure things out for yerselves.”

  Nina leaned her head on Selah’s shoulder. It was nice
having a sister-in-law, even though she was a tiny bit responsible for the worst moment of her life. “You’re not to blame. At least not too much.”

  “I promise not to interfere anymore.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Nina lifted her head and looked at her. “From Grossmutter. Although I have to give her credit. She didn’t meddle too much. And she made a wonderful lunch.” She sighed. “Then I had to mess up everything.”

  “Sounds like Ira ruined it for you.” Selah frowned. “I can’t believe he was dating someone and didn’t tell you.”

  “Why would he?”

  “Out of courtesy? Because you are friends? At least he could have come up with a better way to let you know.”

  Nina shook her head. “He doesn’t owe me anything, Selah. Like you said, we’re just . . . friends.” A fact that had been driven home like a stake in the ground. Or in my heart.

  Light rain tapped a soft tempo against the roof of the porch. “I tell you what,” Selah said. “After this rain stops, I’ll head over to the Yoders’ and get everything from Ira.” She smiled. “Would that help?”

  Nina nodded. That way she could avoid him—and Margaret, too, if she was still there. “I’d appreciate that.”

  Selah stood and dipped her head out from under the porch roof for a second, glancing at the sky. “Looks like a storm is developing,” she said. “I’m going inside. Are you coming?”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  After Selah left, Nina stared at the rain now falling steadily. At least she wasn’t caught out in this mess at the pond. Although it would have been sort of romantic, her and Ira sitting under the trees, holding the quilt over their heads and huddling together to wait for the storm to pass. He would gaze into her eyes, and she into his, and it would be the perfect time to share a kiss—

  Not again. “Stop!” she said, bolting from the swing. Even knowing Ira had a girlfriend didn’t keep her from having useless, starry-eyed daydreams about him. She’d imagined kissing him many times, but how could she even think about that after what just happened? “Just stop it!”