by Marta Perry
And Caleb was right, of course. In a matter of minutes they’d taken all the bins down the stairs.
“This is a big improvement over the cardboard cartons,” he said, hefting the largest of the bins.
“Ja, I certain-sure wasn’t going to risk making the same mistake again.” She turned the bins so that she could read the labels she’d put on them.
“Where do you want this one?” Caleb still held the largest of the bins.
“Ach, I’m sorry, letting you stand there and hold that. Let’s put it on the middle shelf, where it doesn’t have to be pulled down.”
He slid it effortlessly into place and picked up another. “All neatly labeled, I see. You are an organized woman, Katie Miller.”
“That’s how I like things,” she admitted. “If I see a shop where things are in a jumble, my fingers itch to straighten it out. Unless it’s put that way on purpose, of course.”
He paused in the process of sliding another bin into place. “Why would anyone do that?”
“My onkel Jacob has what he calls a junk shop. All kinds of little odds and ends of things that he picks up at sales. He says folks come to him because they think they’re going to find a treasure, and looking for it is part of the fun. He’d never let me straighten up a thing, but he always knows exactly where everything is.”
“He sounds like a smart man.”
“Onkel Jacob says nobody bests a Dutchman in a deal. They just think they do.” She could hear his voice saying it, and a wave of missing the cantankerous old man went through her.
“You miss him,” Caleb said, with an insight that unsettled her.
“Ja. We’ll go back for a visit, maybe this fall, once the shop is better established.”
Caleb put the last box into place and stood back, seeming to admire the neat arrangement. “That’s important to you, having the shop go well, ain’t so?”
“Ja.” She hesitated, but she’d said so much to him that it hardly seemed to matter if she told him a little more. “Mamm didn’t understand why I couldn’t be content staying put and working in her shop, but Daad . . . well, if he didn’t understand, at least he thought I should have my chance. He put up the money to get me started and signed the first year’s lease on the shop. I have that long to be supporting myself.”
Caleb studied her face, his gaze intent. “So that’s why the Pennsylvania Dutch Days are important to you.”
“Ja, for sure. If sales don’t pick up soon . . .” She let that thought trail away. Caleb understood.
He reached out, taking her hand in his. His work-roughened fingers brushed the pulse that beat in her wrist. Did he know how crazily it was thumping?
“You’re going to make it,” he said, his voice deep and gentle. “I am certain-sure of that.” His fingers caressed her wrist, and her skin seemed to warm where they touched.
He drew her a little closer, and her heart pounded. In a moment he would kiss her. It wasn’t too late to step back, to avoid it. But she didn’t want to.
The bell on the door upstairs rang, breaking whatever had been between them. She stepped back, drawing her hand free. “I’d best take care of the shop.”
“Ja.” But Caleb caught her hand again as she turned toward the steps. “One thing . . . will you go for a drive with me after church tomorrow?”
She shouldn’t. That would be like an announcement that they were seeing each other. But she wanted to.
She let the impulse carry her. “Ja, Caleb. I would like that.”
It had been a surprisingly good Saturday afternoon in the quilt shop. Katie straightened the quilt on the bed, disarranged by a woman who’d wanted to look at every single one and then gone away without buying a thing. She had, however, asked about the Pennsylvania Dutch Days next week, and Katie considered that a good sign.
Today’s receipts didn’t quite make up for the four hundred dollars she’d lost yesterday, but she was determined not to dwell on that.
When the door opened she turned, but it wasn’t another customer. It was Melanie.
“Hi, Katie. I had to drop a deposit off at the bank so I thought I’d pop in and say hello.”
“This is a nice surprise for sure. Do you have time for a cup of coffee? It won’t take me a minute to run upstairs and get it.”
Melanie glanced at the leather-strapped watch on her wrist. “Better not. Mike will be wondering why it’s taking me so long.”
Katie leaned against the counter, ready to enjoy a chat, no matter how brief. “Stop by some other time when you can stay longer, then. My cousin Molly keeps me supplied with baked goodies, you know.”
“Molly’s sweet, always so cheerful and smiling,” Melanie said. She fidgeted with the strap on her watch. “You know, I really just wanted to say . . . to apologize, I guess.”
“Whatever for?” Melanie certainly hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I guess Mike spoke out of turn at the meeting yesterday.” Melanie’s color deepened. “I’m sorry. Sometimes he just doesn’t seem to understand that words . . . well, words can hurt people.”
That almost sounded like personal experience speaking. “Ja, they can, but what Mike said isn’t your fault. Anyway, nobody was offended. We’re used to Englisch folks not understanding. I’m just glad you and Mike are participating in the sale.”
“Yeah, well, anything to bring in business, Mike says. But I ... well, especially after what Donna said on Thursday, I thought you might be feeling fed up with us English.”
“Ach, no.” Katie smiled at her. “Besides, I know all Englisch are not alike, any more than all Amish are.”
“Donna can be nice, but she scares me a little,” Melanie confessed. “You never know what she’s going to say.”
“She’ll say what she thinks, that’s for sure.” A thought hit Katie. “Donna is like her quilt design—all straight lines. You know where you stand with her.”
“But to ask you why you weren’t married!” Melanie’s eyes rounded. “Honestly, that was the end. I’d have told her so, except, like I said, she scares me.”
“I wasn’t offended. In a way . . .” Katie paused, feeling her way. “I think having her bring it out into the open was gut. It made me think about what happened in a different way.”
“You must have been terribly hurt, to have the person you loved do that.” Melanie’s face filled with sympathy. “I’d think that would just be the worst thing in the world.”
Katie considered. “I’d have said that once, but now . . . well, now I know that there are worse things all around us. What happened with Eli and Jessica is in the past, and I have to get over it.”
“Yeah, but that’s not so easy to do. I mean, you can’t just tell yourself to get over someone.” A spasm of pain crossed Melanie’s face.
“Maybe not, but I can try. In fact, I think I’ll write a note to Jessica.” Now that she’d said it, Katie realized that thought had been lurking at the back of her mind since she’d read Mamm’s letter. “I’ll tell her how happy I am that they have a baby on the way.”
“Do you really feel that way?” Melanie looked at her suspiciously.
“Not entirely,” she admitted. “But I think writing the note will help me get there.”
“You’re a brave person.” Melanie gripped her hand for an instant and then turned away. “I wish I were. I . . . I’d better get back.”
“I’m not,” Katie began, but Melanie hurried to the door, leaving her to wonder just what Melanie found so brave about her.
She’d said she would do it, so she’d better write the note now, before she changed her mind. She pulled a tablet and envelope from the box under the counter.
Don’t think about it too much. Just write.
She grasped the pen. Dear Jessica—that was the easy part. My mamm passed your news on to me. I just wanted to say that I am happy for you, and that I wish you well.
It was just a few lines, but Katie felt as if she’d run a mile. Quickly she signed her name, folded the pa
per, and stuck it in the envelope.
Writing Jessica’s married name cost a pang, but Katie forced herself through it, addressed the envelope, sealed it, and stamped it. Without pausing, she went quickly to the front door and put the letter in the mail box, shoving the flag up.
There. It was done, and she couldn’t change her mind.
She lingered on the doorstep for a moment, enjoying the afternoon sunshine. The maples along the street were fully leafed out now, tracing shadows in the sunlight. A car came down the street, slowing as it approached the shop. That was Ben’s car, surely. The girls were back earlier than she’d expected.
The car stopped. Rhoda got out, slammed the door, and rushed past her. Katie heard a muffled sob and then the pounding of her sister’s feet as she ran upstairs.
Shaken, Katie glanced back at the car, but Ben was already pulling away from the curb. She hurried inside, hesitated a moment, and then shut and locked the door, flipping the sign to CLOSED. Whatever had brought Rhoda back in tears, she obviously needed Katie’s attention.
Katie went up the stairs slowly, giving Rhoda time to realize she was coming. Time for her, too, to petition the Lord for wisdom and patience. Lots of patience.
Rhoda had run straight for her room. Katie followed, and found that her sister had flung herself on the bed and was weeping into the pillow.
Katie sat down next to her, patting Rhoda’s shaking back. “Komm, now. It can’t be that bad, can it? Sit up and tell me about the problem, and I will help you.”
That brought on a fresh outburst of weeping. Even as she hurt for Rhoda, Katie couldn’t quite control a spurt of exasperation. She surely hadn’t been so dramatic when she was sixteen, had she? Still, it was a dramatic age, when joy seemed brighter than the sun and sorrows the end of the world.
“Rhoda,” she said firmly. “Stop now. You can if you try. I cannot help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Nobody can help me.” Rhoda shoved herself up on her elbows and turned a streaming face to Katie. “Nobody. I wish I’d never come here. I wish I were dead.”
“Schtoppe that now.” Katie grasped her by the shoulders and pulled Rhoda up so that she sat on the bed. She gave her sister a little shake. “You must not say that. It is a sin. Control yourself.”
Harsh words, maybe, but they seemed to work. Rhoda’s sobs lessened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“I should hope not. Now tell me.” Katie handed Rhoda a tissue, then gave that another thought and plopped the whole box in her lap. “Now.”
Rhoda sucked in a shaky breath. “We . . . We went to the mall. The other girls—they didn’t want to talk to me, but I heard what they were saying. Awful things—that I’d stayed out all night with an Englisch boy, that my parents shipped me here because they were so ashamed.”
“I’m so sorry.” Gossip was a sin, but somehow it seemed more tolerated than most sins were. Those who gossiped could tell themselves they were only repeating what they’d heard.
Rhoda sniffled a little. “But I was okay, because I was with Becky.”
“That’s gut.” So far there was nothing to account for tears, but apparently more was coming.
“We went to the food court, you know. And the boys talked to us. They didn’t seem to care what anyone was saying.”
“Ja.” Katie wasn’t so sure about that, but right now she needed the whole story. “And then what?”
Rhoda wiped her eyes with her fingers. “I went to the restroom, but Becky didn’t go with me. So I was walking back by myself, and Tommy Esch . . . he . . . he was waiting at the corner and he grabbed me and kissed me, just like I was the kind of girl anyone could do that to. And Becky was there, and she saw, and now she hates me!” That brought on a fresh burst of tears.
Katie held her sister, patting her, trying to think this through. From the sound of things, it was the Esch boy who was at fault, not Rhoda, but things were not always what they seemed.
“Rhoda, listen to me. When Tommy kissed you, what did you do?”
“Well, I . . . At first I was just surprised. And then I pulled away and I smacked his ear for him.” She looked indignant. “I know you’ll say I shouldn’t hit anyone, but he deserved it.”
“Never mind that now.” Actually, Katie found she was applauding the act. Apparently her pacifism didn’t extend that far. “Sounds as if Tommy was behaving like a bad little boy, and if his parents had been there, they’d have done worse.”
“Ja.” Rhoda seemed to brighten for an instant, but then the tears started again. “But I don’t think Becky saw me do that. She thinks I was trying to steal the boy she likes, and she’ll never forgive me. I didn’t mind so much what the other girls said. But I’ve lost Becky, and now I don’t have anyone.”
It all sounded so familiar. So sad, and so familiar.
“I don’t know, either,” Katie said. “But we’ll figure it out, Rhoda. I promise.”
Katie woke even earlier than usual on Sunday morning. Not that she’d had much sleep to speak of. Most of the night had been spent praying and worrying. She could only hope she’d done more praying than worrying.
But the answers she’d sought didn’t come. She had no idea how to deal with this situation. Assuming Rhoda was telling the truth, and she was convinced that she was, that didn’t mean anyone would believe it. Tommy had been born into this community, after all.
She couldn’t fool herself. The way news flew around Pleasant Valley, no doubt half the church had already heard what had happened. And the rest would hear some garbled version at worship today. Katie cringed at the thought.
The first thing to do was check on Rhoda. Brushing her braid back over her shoulder, Katie went quickly across to her sister’s door.
“Rhoda?” She opened the door. “It’s time to get up.”
Rhoda groaned and pulled the quilt up over her head. “I can’t.”
“Komm now.” Katie sat on the edge of the bed and patted her sister. “It’s not as bad as that. You’ll feel better once you’re up and dressed.”
Rhoda pulled the quilt down to show a horrified face. “Katie, I can’t go to worship today. I can’t. I’ll throw up if you make me. I know I will. Please.”
Katie knew perfectly well what Daad would do. The same thing he’d done when news of Eli’s dumping her came out. They’d gone to church just as usual, trying their best to show nothing at all on their faces. Those might have been the hardest three hours she’d ever been through, sitting there, knowing everyone knew . . .
Daadi was stronger than she was. She just couldn’t do it to Rhoda, not when she knew from experience how it hurt. Maybe things were different for the Englisch, but for the Amish, one person’s sin mattered to the whole church. And having the church family look down on you was about the worst thing that could happen to a person.
“All right. I’ll make some oatmeal. Just try to sleep a little until it’s ready.”
Tears welled in Rhoda’s eyes. She bit her lip, nodded, and closed her eyes.
Katie went back to the kitchen and started breakfast, trying not to think about anything else. She could only pray she was doing the right thing for her sister. Certainly Rhoda looked sick, with that pale face and red-rimmed eyes. Even her hair had lost its usual luster.
The oatmeal smelled good enough to waken her taste buds. She added brown sugar and milk to the tray, along with a wedge of walnut streusel coffee cake and a dish of sliced peaches, and carried it into Rhoda’s room.
“I can’t eat all that,” Rhoda groaned. But she sat up and pushed the pillows into place behind her so that Katie could put the tray on her knees.
“Just eat what you can.” She’d like to add that it would make her feel better, but she suspected this trouble was too big to be solved by a gut breakfast.
After they’d both eaten and dressed, she and Rhoda sat in the living room for devotions. She read the Psalm for the day slowly, praying that Rhoda would understand the psalmist crying out for God’s help
and be comforted.
The day dragged on. She couldn’t help but think about what was happening in the service now. It should be easier when noontime passed, only then she could imagine people talking while they ate.
Talking about them, most likely. Well, it had to be faced.
Two o’clock. Caleb wouldn’t come now for their prearranged buggy ride. She knew that. Whatever had begun between them was wiped out, completely erased.
When she heard the clip-clop of hooves and the creak of a buggy in the lane, her heart nearly stopped. He wouldn’t—
She ran to the window. No, he hadn’t. It was Molly and her family. Trying to swallow the lump in her throat, Katie hurried down the steps and reached the door as Molly did.
She opened the door, stepping out into the sunshine and into Molly’s embrace, which was even warmer than the sunshine.
“We heard at church.” Molly pressed her cheek against Katie’s.
“It didn’t happen like folks are saying,” Katie said quickly. “It wasn’t Rhoda’s fault. Tommy just grabbed her and kissed her.”
“Hush now, you don’t have to defend her to us. We love Rhoda, too. I don’t doubt Tommy was put up to it by the other boys. Probably that Gordy Schultz. He’s always one to start trouble and then sit back looking angelic.” Molly appeared as angry as someone with her soft, dimpled face could.
“I didn’t think about that, but it makes sense.” A hint of relief eased Katie’s tension. “It might make Rhoda feel better to think that it wasn’t Tommy’s idea.”
“Tommy sat in church this morning looking as white and miserable as if he had a belly ache. Serves him right.”
Katie found, to her surprise, that she could smile. “Forgive him, Molly.”
“Have you?” Molly gave her a shrewd look.
“Well, not yet. But I will.” She hugged Molly again. “Denke. You’ve made me feel better, knowing you understand.”
Molly glanced at the stairs. “Will you and Rhoda come for supper? We’d like that.”