by Mary Ellis
He nodded and then tried to steer conversation away from the Summertons. He succeeded in getting Amy to talk about the bus ride. Just when he started to describe the farms he recently visited, she pivoted on the seat to face him.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. My aunt said she wrote two different letters and mailed them right after she received mine. Isn’t that odd? They never arrived.”
Shame roiled up his throat into his mouth. He endured the bad taste for the rest of the drive, yet he said nothing. How could he confess now when they desperately needed to mend broken fences?
In the Detweiler yard, Thomas met their buggy with a warm smile. “Welcome home, Amy. You two go in to supper. I’ll tend the horse and put away the buggy.”
“Danki, bruder.” John grabbed her bag and helped Amy down. They entered an empty kitchen from the side door. Only one small candle burned on the table.
“Everything has already been put away. Maybe Sally thought we would eat in town. I’ll see what I can heat up without much fuss.” She washed her hands at the sink.
“No, you won’t.” John splashed cool water on his hands and face, recovering some of his confidence. “A surprise awaits you on the back porch.”
“What on earth?” Amy ran down the hallway and threw open the back door. “Oh, my,” she whispered.
John had covered the picnic table with a white cloth. Three kerosene lamps burned from one end to the other, besides two more hanging from porch rafters. Two places were set with plates covered with foil, glasses of milk, and slices of cherry pie. A huge bouquet of flowers graced the center of the table. He had picked every garden mum and wildflower he found growing along the fence. A small box of chocolates waited next to where she would sit.
“How beautiful! Did you do all this for me?” She hooked her arm through his.
He blushed up to his hairline. “Sally cooked the food, but I got everything ready. Do you mind eating outside? If you get cold, we can carry the meal into the house. I just thought we could be alone without interruptions from people going to the bathroom.” He glanced away, embarrassed.
She giggled and reached up to kiss his cheek. “This is very sweet of you. I would love an autumn picnic.” She sat down and opened the heart-shaped box. “Chocolates with caramel centers—these are the best.”
“I bought them the same day as your new cell phone when you weren’t looking.”
She unwrapped one and popped it in her mouth. “Danki, John. We haven’t had a private dinner since leaving Lancaster.”
“Thomas wasn’t keen on the idea but he agreed, providing that the kitchen curtain remains open and we have plenty of lamplight.” He pointed at the window behind her.
“I think we can live with those terms.”
“For your dining pleasure, we have fried chicken, sweet corn, coleslaw, and cherry pie,” he announced, pulling off the foil covers.
“You remembered all my favorites.” She smiled so sweetly his palms began to sweat.
“I thought of nothing other than you the whole time you were gone.” He sipped from his glass to hide his shyness. Then they both bowed their heads for a moment of silent prayer.
“My aunt asked me if I was happy here. I told her I’d found the man I wished to marry and he was busy looking for our new home.” Amy picked up a chicken breast and took a bite. “The only thing that could make my life better would be if Aunt Prudence moved closer.”
And John began eating too, reassured his life was finally on track.
THIRTEEN
While I draw this fleeting breath
You mean the whole district will be there?” asked Nora.
Amy counted to five before replying. Losing her temper with her sister wouldn’t help the situation. “Jah. If you had been paying attention during my first two explanations, you would know. Singings aren’t only for young people in Harmony. The entire district shows up and joins in if they so choose. And the Stolls are hosting a pig roast along with the singing.”
“Will Elam attend?” she asked.
“I have no idea, but I know Thomas, Sally, and their boys will be there besides John and me, so you’ll know plenty of people. You’d better hurry, though. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
Nora walked across their bedroom to stand before the row of pegs on the wall. She studied her assortment of everyday garments as though unfamiliar with them. “Can I wear one of my Lancaster dresses?”
“You most certainly cannot.” Amy began tapping her toe with impatience. “We have discussed this before, Nora.”
“But these dresses look so shabby. May I wear my Sunday dress?”
“To eat barbequed roast pork and corn on the cob? No one will be in their Sunday best. Please stop dawdling. I’m going downstairs to carry the pies I baked to the buggy and help Sally with the boys.” Amy moved toward the stairs before the temptation to shake Nora’s shoulders got the better of her. She hoped the girl’s sudden interest in Elam would end up being a passing curiosity. John mentioned that Nora had monopolized the dinner conversation with questions for Elam while she’d been up in Chestnut. Apparently, Thomas didn’t care much for Nora’s newfound concern for Maine’s northernmost counties. Leave it to John’s little bruder to select a night she was gone to finally dine with his family.
From the kitchen window, she spotted John leading their horse and buggy toward the house. Sally and Thomas were packing food, diaper bags, and their little boys into their own buggy. Amy hurried to wrap three pies snuggly with aluminum foil before loading them into a hamper. As she finished, John’s head appeared in the doorway.
“About ready, dear heart?” he asked. True to form, a blush stained his freshly shaven cheeks from using an endearment.
“Jah, Nora and I will be out in two shakes of a goat’s tail.” She offered her cheeriest smile. He had no way of knowing how much she’d loved their private dinner on the porch. Despite rather chilly temperatures, the sweet gesture had warmed her heart.
“We’re taking two buggies so we won’t be so crowded. Maybe Nora can ride with Thomas and Sally on the way home. I’ll see what Thomas says.” He winked, blushed even deeper than before, and then disappeared down the steps.
That man is turning into a romantic after all. Amy wiped down the countertops and swept breakfast crumbs into her dust pan, during which Nora still hadn’t arrived downstairs. With a quick huff of exasperation, Amy called at the landing. “I’m taking my pies out, schwester, and then we’re leaving. I suggest you come now if you wish to ride the three miles to the cookout.” She turned on her heel, grabbed the hamper, and marched out the door.
After climbing up next to John, she said, “Let’s be off. But slowly, if you don’t mind.”
John nodded with comprehension and released the brake. The wheels began to roll from the horse’s prancing.
“Wait! I’m here.” They heard Nora before her head appeared at the side window. John pulled on the reins almost imperceptibly. “Please stop so I can climb up,” she pleaded, jogging alongside.
Amy offered her a hand along with a scolding. “You truly must learn self-discipline.”
“I’ll work on that starting tomorrow.” Nora tugged her cloak closed and settled herself on the seat.
Amy remembered the second part of Nora’s favorite expression—the part Nora added after their parents were no longer in earshot: “But everyone knows tomorrow never comes.” Amy decided not to share this tidbit with John as they enjoyed the warm fall sunshine and gorgeous display of foliage along the way.
But all was not silent in the buggy. John described some of the properties he recently visited. Apparently, real estate agents used expressions like “spacious,” “well-maintained,” or “contains excellent agricultural potential” when the exact opposite condition was the case. Amy laughed at a lean-to henhouse described as an outbuilding. Their lighthearted conversation screeched to an abrupt halt, however, when Nora’s long cloak fell open to reveal a rose-hued dress. John pointed an accus
atory finger at the garment. “Nora! I thought you understood that those colors aren’t permitted here.”
Amy’s earlier annoyance with her sister ratcheted up a notch. “I asked you to wear an everyday dress.”
Nora tugged the cloak closed. “Nothing was clean and pressed, and this is the most subtle one of the batch. We’ll be outdoors all day. I’ll keep my cloak on and closed. No one will notice, I promise.”
John shook the reins to keep up with Thomas’s buggy and didn’t speak to Nora for the rest of the trip.
Amy could tell he was clenching down on his back teeth by the set of his jaw. “See that they don’t,” she said. “And the next time this happens, you’ll climb out and walk back home.”
Nora folded her hands in her lap and pouted silently. Amy hated acting like their mamm, but she didn’t see much alternative.
Once they were at the Stolls’, she and Nora sat on the women’s side for the singing, while John squeezed onto the bench opposite them. Sally and Thomas visited with district members who didn’t wish to participate. With some relief, Amy noticed Lewis on the men’s side. The handsome young man tried to get Nora’s attention between songs, to no avail. If only she would agree to court him, perhaps her transition wouldn’t be two steps forward followed by one step back. By the fourth song, Amy forgot the family melodrama and lost herself in hymns of praise. If only she could abandon herself this freely to God each day, all day, maybe her own life would smooth out. But once the last melody lifted toward heaven, Amy started wondering where Nora had gone.
“Ready for a glass of apple cider?” asked John, offering his elbow and a bright smile. “They put out snacks to stave off starvation until the pork is done.” He nodded toward a bounteously laden table.
“I don’t know where Nora hurried off to.”
“She’s a grown woman, not a toddler. Let’s get something to eat and drink.”
Amy followed him to fix a plate of vegetables and dip, along with cheese and crackers. John located two about-to-marry couples, who eagerly shared their marriage counseling experiences while they nibbled. He hung on to every word they uttered to glean valuable advice. But Amy couldn’t keep her mind on the conversation no matter how hard she tried. Unsettledness stirred beneath the cheese and crackers in her belly. “Excuse me a minute, John. I wish to find my sister and refill my glass.” She smiled politely at her new friends.
“I’ll fetch us more cider while you reassure yourself Nora hasn’t fallen down a well.” He laughed easily, as did the other four.
“Danki. I’ll be back soon.” Amy strode toward those clustered around the snack table but recognized no familiar face. She looked outdoors, where some young people were gathered around the roasting pit. No Nora. Next, Amy scanned the front porch, where a knot of women stood in a circle gossiping. Her sister wasn’t among those interested in local news. She checked the bathroom, the kitchen, and then rechecked the buffet line. Panic began to intrude on her otherwise enjoyable afternoon. Finally, on a harried walk around the barn, she spotted the objectionable rose-colored dress near the pasture fence. Her sister had wandered far from the crowd after the singing concluded.
Amy thought Nora was alone until she spotted Elam Detweiler sitting on the fence in front of her. The two were chatting and laughing as though old friends. Amy blinked several times. Elam hadn’t been at the singing, yet there he was perched on the top rail. How did he know we were coming here? And where is Nora’s cloak? Her sister socialized in the brisk autumn air in a lightweight dress with a black apron as though it were a balmy July day. Amy took a few steps toward the pair and then hesitated. Thus far no one had noticed the rare appearance of Elam Detweiler or Nora’s inappropriate outfit. Any scene she caused would certainly draw unwelcome attention.
“Amy? Come back inside,” called John from the doorway. “Sarah and William are talking about the farm they purchased on Waterville Road.”
She smiled, deliberating only a half minute longer. He was right. Nora was a grown woman, and Amy wasn’t her mother. If the girl earned a chastisement from the bishop for wandering off unchaperoned, then so be it. Amy tucked a stray lock under her kapp and returned to John’s side. She enjoyed getting to know the two engaged couples who were about their same age. Before long, Nora crept back into the barn with her full-length cloak covering her dress. She filled a glass of cider and walked to where Sally chatted with other young mothers.
Several English families wandered the Stolls’ mown backyard as more continued to arrive, bringing side dishes or plates of cookies to share with their neighbors. The Stoll family seemed to be well-liked in the community among both the Amish and English. Younger children organized a game of dodgeball using a striped beach ball, while older youths played volleyball over the clothesline strung between house and barn. Men carried the roast pig to the paper-covered table for carving as Beth Stoll organized the buffet table into salads, hot dishes, platters of pork, and desserts at the far end. Nora chose Aden for her dinner companion, and she held Jeremiah while Sally ate supper.
When the sun dipped below the Dixmont hills, Amy and John joined those at the bonfire nibbling cookies, sipping cider, and counting stars that appeared one by one. Soon the sky was filled with a million diamond-bright points of light.
“More stars are here than back in Pennsylvania,” whispered John into her ear. They had found a quiet bench to sit on, close to others yet separate enough for private conversation.
Amy felt a rare sense of intimacy with the man she loved. “Another reason to like Maine,” she said, winking fondly.
“I’m hoping you like it here enough to start looking at farms. I narrowed them down to two or three I’d like you to see.” John placed his hands on his knees and appeared to hold his breath.
“I think I can tear myself away on Monday.” She leaned toward him—close enough to smell his spicy shaving soap, but she pulled away with the arrival of Thomas and Sally.
“I believe Aden is finally worn out.” Thomas carried his sleepy-eyed son on his shoulder. The boy clung to his father with a fistful of shirt. Sally cradled a sleeping Jeremiah wrapped in a quilt in the crook of her arm.
“We’re headed home. Three of us are tired, but I believe Sally could talk with the women until the rooster crows tomorrow.”
“I keep thinking of more things to say,” said Sally, beaming at Amy.
“Where’s Nora?” asked Thomas, scanning the fireside crowd. “Is she riding home with us or staying longer with you?”
Amy arched her back like a startled barn cat. She hadn’t seen Nora since they had eaten roast pork with all the trimmings. In fact, she hadn’t even thought of her sister during the last hour. She jumped to her feet. “I’d better go look for her.”
John rose to his full height lazily. “Relax. She’s probably taking a stroll with Lewis and his schwestern. You know he carries a torch for her.”
“I don’t think so. Lewis is over there talking to Abe Stoll.” Thomas pointed a finger toward the woodpile. “It looks like Nora will be riding with you two.” He settled his son more comfortably on his shoulder and put his other arm around Sally. “See you at home. Don’t tarry too long.”
John waited until they left before he muttered under his breath, “Confound your sister. Now she’ll chatter the entire ride back.”
“I’ll go find her.” Amy hurried toward the pasture—the last-seen lurking spot—but she didn’t have to search for long. A flush-faced Nora stepped from the darkness near the phone shed. Her cloak hung open, and the hem of her dress was wet and muddy. “It’s time to leave,” announced Amy, not hiding her irritation.
“I figured as much.” Nora sauntered past her in the direction of the buggies.
While John hitched up the horse and Amy retrieved her pie carriers from the buffet table, Nora rocked on her heels, looking oddly disoriented before she climbed into the backseat. Maybe she’ll fall asleep, thought Amy, settling herself next to John.
Conversation during the
ride home centered mainly on the succulent pork and variety of side dishes until John mentioned the unexpected presence of his brother. “Did you notice that Elam showed up?” he asked Amy. “He skulked in the shadows like a possum, trying to fix a plate of food without having to socialize with folks.” John laughed with little humor.
“I don’t know about that,” said Nora. She leaned forward in between them to interject. “I spoke to your bruder, and he was downright conversational with me.”
Nora’s having to voice a contrary opinion led to her undoing.
John’s head recoiled with shock and disgust. “Have you been drinking? I smell beer on your breath.”
Nora blinked like an owl and retreated from close proximity. “How would you know what beer smells like?”
“I know. Never mind how, but I know, and I smell it distinctly on you.”
Amy turned around and stared at her sister. “Is it true? Were you drinking? I saw you off with Elam by the fence after the singing. And you were gone a long while after we ate supper.”
Nora shrunk against the bench back, partially hidden in darkness. She neither confirmed nor denied the allegation, but in the ensuing moments her silence spoke volumes. What had been an unseasonably warm fall evening turned chillier by the minute. For the remainder of the drive no one spoke. Amy’s mind whirred with possible outcomes to Nora’s misdeeds—and none of them were good.
When John stopped the buggy by the stone walkway, he unhitched the gelding with a stony expression. Nora climbed out and approached with downcast eyes. “John, I just wanted to say—”
“Save it,” he interrupted. “I don’t want to hear another word from you. Just go to your room and stay there.”
Nora ran to the house and disappeared inside without a backward glance. Amy had never heard him speak like that before. It was as though his heart was filled with hatred. She lifted her containers from the back and trudged up the path. Halfway to the side door she paused and glanced back. “Perhaps it would be best if you waited until morning to discuss this with Thomas so that cooler heads might prevail.”