“Ah, nuts.”
Mamm gave Austin a quick and sharp look. “Watch your language, young man.” She handed Austin the broom and looked at Andrew. “Did you ask the vet about Snowball?”
Andrew glanced at Abraham. “Didn’t need to. Abraham took a look at her.”
Abraham had a talent for caring for animals. “I don’t think it’s a tick bite, so we still have to talk to a vet. She’s had all her shots.”
“You’ll do that tomorrow?” Mamm said.
Abraham nodded.
Mamm turned back to Andrew. “And what about the peanuts? We need them in one week.”
“I took care of that too,” Andrew said. “They should be here by Wednesday, and jars by Thursday.”
She patted his arm. “Denki. I can always depend on you.”
Andrew smiled back because he truly was glad to please his mamm, but he didn’t dare tell her how he really felt. He was sick, sick, sick of peanut butter.
Andrew and his bruderen still helped Dat with the hay and corn, but a gute part of their time was spent making peanut butter and selling it to Amish markets and food shops. This enterprise had earned them the nickname Peanut Butter Brothers, which Mamm thought was adorable and Andrew thought was just a little too cute.
The name wasn’t the worst part of it. Andrew hated making peanut butter. It was mundane, mindless work. He wanted to work with his hands, building chairs and tables and other pieces of art out of wood, but Mamm wouldn’t take it well if he up and quit the business. He couldn’t upset her now, not when Mammi and Dawdi Petersheim had moved in for what looked to be several months, if not permanently. Mamm had enough to worry about as it was. Andrew wouldn’t make Mamm’s life harder just to gratify his own selfish desires.
For sure and certain, he should count his blessings. He still had a room of his own to retreat to when Mammi Martha started handing out cleaning assignments. Mamm and Dat had moved into the twins’ room because Dawdi David couldn’t possibly climb stairs. Alfie and Benji had to sleep in the cellar on an air mattress—although they probably loved it. They got the whole cellar to themselves. It was the perfect place to plan mischief.
Mammi Martha walked in the house carrying two large grocery sacks. Andrew and Abraham rushed to her side to take them from her. They were heavy, too heavy for an eighty-year-old woman to be carrying by herself. “Well, bless my soul,” Mammi said, after taking a short look around. “That cat looks like something the cat dragged in.”
Mamm grunted her displeasure. “It won’t be here long.”
“It’s just as well,” Mammi Martha said. “Keeping up a litter box is a chore. Tidy Cat is the only brand that will keep away the smell.”
“Where’s Dat?” Abraham asked.
Mammi waved her hands in no direction in particular. “Ach, he’s unhitching the horse and buggy.”
Dawdi took a two-hour nap every morning and a three-hour nap every afternoon. Mammi spent naptime in the mornings rearranging Mamm’s cupboards and organizing her spices. She spent the afternoons shopping. Once a week she hired a driver to take her to Walmart, and the other days—except Sunday—Dat drove her somewhere in the buggy. Usually it was to Glick’s Family Market in Bienenstock or Lark Country Store in Bonduel, but she always came back with a “gift” for Mamm.
Mammi was eight years younger than Dawdi, but she seemed even younger than that. She could run circles around most women her age. She sighed, took off her black bonnet, and hung it on one of the hooks by the door. “Now, would you like to see what I bought?”
It wasn’t really a matter of “liking.” Mammi’s purchases tended to be practical and burdensome—at least for Mamm, who not only had to figure out a place to store them, but she had to use them or risk hurting Mammi Martha’s feelings. Mammi was only happy if she thought she was being helpful.
Mamm gave Mammi Martha probably the best smile she could manage. Mammi pulled a shiny metal cookie sheet from one of the bags. “What do you think?”
“It’s so clean,” Mamm said.
“Jah.” Mammi beamed as she set the cookie sheet on the table. “I bought nine of them.”
Mamm’s smile faded to nothing. She was probably wondering where to keep nine cookie sheets.
“They’re not for cookies.” Mammi went to the cupboard and retrieved a plate and a cup and set them on the cookie sheet. “From now on, we’re going to eat on these trays. They’ll keep the crumbs off the table yet, and if Benji or Alfie spill their milk, we won’t have to mop the floor.”
Mamm’s stunned look meant she was either counting how long each of those trays would take to wash or imagining how attractive her blue plates would look nestled inside the cookie sheets. Judging by the look on her face, they didn’t seem to be happy thoughts. “Denki, Martha. That was very thoughtful of you.”
Mammi shook her head. “Don’t mention it.”
“We should get this cat back,” Andrew said, not wanting to see Mamm’s distress when Mammi Martha set the trays on the table for dinner.
Mammi held up her hand. “Wait one minute.” She went to the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a bottle of pink liquid. “You little boys almost forgot. What do we do every time we come in the house?”
Alfie slumped his shoulders so low, his knuckles almost scraped the floor. “Spray with a breath of spring.”
“Gute,” Mammi said. She went to Benji, who was the closest, and held the nozzle up to his neck. “Lift your chin.” Two spritzes for Benji and two for Alfie. Alfie made a face that would have done a sucker fish proud. The cat hissed like water on a fire, but that didn’t deter Mammi from spraying him too. Austin was next. Mammi kindly invited him to stop sweeping so she could give him a spray. Andrew could see the muscles in Austin’s jaw twitch as Mammi sprayed his neck and arms.
Seeming a little more willing, Abraham clamped his eyes shut and held out his arms and let Mammi spray him. Andrew did the same. He was twenty-four years old, for goodness’ sake, but he wasn’t about to hurt Mammi’s feelings for the sake of a little rose water. If he didn’t smell like a man, at least he didn’t smell like a pile of manure. Mammi replaced the bottle under the sink. “I’ve never found anything better than rose water for hiding those bad smells.”
Andrew and the twins hurried outside, but Dat had been too fast. The horse was unhitched and munching hay in its stall. “Sorry, Snapper,” Andrew said, patting the horse on the neck. “We have to go one more place.”
Dat was spraying the outside of the buggy with something from a yellow spray bottle. He lifted it so Andrew could read the label. “Your mammi recommended it.”
“Do you mind wiping it down when we get home? We have to run one more errand for Mamm.”
“Okay.” Dat put the lid on the spray bottle. “How did your mamm like Mammi’s present?”
“Oh, I think it went just fine.”
Dat grimaced. “Oh, dear. That’s what I thought.”
Alfie helped Andrew hitch up the buggy with more enthusiasm than usual, while Benji tried to keep the cat from escaping.
“Willie Glick’s cousin Paul just got married,” Alfie said as he handed Andrew the harness. “Did you know that?”
“We went to the wedding, remember?”
“I don’t think his wife is all that pretty, do you? She has a big mole on her cheek.”
Andrew wasn’t about to tell Alfie what he really thought of Paul Glick and his new wife. “It doesn’t matter what someone looks like on the outside, Alfie. The Lord looks on the heart.”
Benji rocked the cat back and forth like a baby. “But you want a pretty wife, don’t you?”
Andrew chuckled. “I suppose I’d prefer a pretty wife over a plain one.”
Benji nodded eagerly. “Maybe someone with yellow hair?”
Alfie snapped his head around to glare at Benji. “It doesn’t matter what color her hair is.” He turned to Andrew and gave him a painful smile. “But there aren’t any girls in Bienenstock you like, right? You told me they
’re not good enough. Right?”
Had he really said that? Nae, of course not. Andrew wasn’t that arrogant. It was just that he was tall and strong, a hard worker and a godly man who knew the Bible as well as some of the ministers. Mamm had said so herself: Any girl would be blessed to get Andrew for a husband. “I didn’t say they’re not good enough. I only said I haven’t found anyone in Bienenstock who interests me.”
Alfie glanced at Benji, and they grinned at each other as if sharing a private joke. Andrew didn’t really care that he wasn’t in on it. He just wanted to get to Bitsy Weaver’s, get home, and spend a little time in the woodshop before bed. Ach, vell, it wasn’t really a woodshop, just a corner of the barn with a bench and a few tools, but they were his tools and far away from the peanut butter.
Bitsy Weaver’s farm was a tidy assortment of orchards, flowers, and beehives. Most people in the gmayna considered Bitsy a bit odd, but she made excellent cakes and cookies, and she was always the first to visit a sick neighbor or help with someone’s kinner. About a year ago, Bitsy had surprised everybody and gotten baptized and married in the same month. Yost Weaver was an unlikely match for Bitsy, but they seemed to get along right well.
Andrew didn’t know Bitsy and Yost that well. He only saw them at gmay and an occasional singeon, but Aunt Beth liked to gossip, and she had mentioned the Weavers more than once in her weekly visits.
Andrew drove the buggy over the narrow wooden bridge that marked the front of Bitsy’s property. Alfie and Benji hadn’t stopped talking since they’d left home. They acted as if they were going to see the fireworks instead of returning a runaway cat. Ach, what Andrew wouldn’t give to be that excited about life again.
He drove the buggy up the long lane lined with flowering bushes. The odor was so strong, he could almost taste it. Andrew stopped the buggy at the end of the lane between the barn and the house. The twins hopped out before Andrew had even set the brake.
The boys were halfway across the flagstones when Alfie turned back. “Come on, Andrew. You don’t want to miss this.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow. What didn’t he want to miss?
The boys stopped and eyed him expectantly. “You have to come,” Benji said, “or you’ll ruin everything.”
“What will I ruin?”
Benji looked down and nudged a dandelion at his feet. “Everything.”
“Okay,” Andrew said, slowly forming the word between his teeth. His bruderen were eight years old, which had to be their excuse. Andrew didn’t ever understand more than half the things they said anyway. He slid out of the buggy, stepped between his bruderen and wrapped a hand around each of their shoulders. “Okay. Let’s take this cat home.”
You would have thought he’d offered to buy them double-decker ice cream cones. Alfie practically skipped up the porch steps. Benji might have skipped but the cat started struggling in his arms as if it knew where they were taking it.
Andrew knocked on the door. Bitsy was known to greet people with a shotgun. Lord willing she’d be so happy to see her cat that she’d forget about shooting anybody.
They waited for a few minutes, and Alfie knocked. No answer.
Andrew peeked in the window next to the front door. He couldn’t see much past the curtains. “I don’t think they’re home.”
“Benji,” Alfie hissed, “they’re supposed to be home.”
Benji lifted his chin and scrunched his lips together. “It’s not my fault. Mamm was in a hurry.”
“Now, Alfie. How could Benji know if Bitsy would be home or not?” They’d done their duty. That was enough for Andrew. “Let’s just leave the cat on the porch. Bitsy will find it.”
“We can’t just leave it. They have to meet us,” Alfie said.
Andrew was already halfway down the porch steps. “They already know us. We can tell them about the cat when we see them at gmay.”
Alfie leaned against the front door as if he wasn’t going to budge until that cat was reunited with its family. “It would be rude to leave without saying hello.”
Benji joined his bruder with his back against the house. “Bitsy will be wonderful sad if we don’t say hello.”
Andrew trudged back up the stairs and squatted so he could look his bruderen in the eye. “I don’t know what you want me to do. Mamm will have a fit if we bring it home, and she’ll have a fit if we’re late for dinner.”
Alfie stuck out his bottom lip. “We have to wait.”
Andrew wasn’t quite sure what to do with his little bruderen. They were stubborn, like Mamm, and if Andrew insisted on going home, they might just insist on staying here all night—all over a stupid cat.
Benji nudged himself from the wall, his face brightening like a sunflower in full bloom. “Look, Alfie. There she is.”
Andrew turned and looked where Benji was pointing. A girl in a navy-blue dress strolled up the lane toward them, carrying a square board in front of her like a shield. It looked like it might be a frame from one of Bitsy’s beehives. The girl’s hair was tied up in a fluorescent pink kerchief, and her white-golden strands caught the late afternoon sunlight. With the yellow hair framing her face, she looked very much how Andrew imagined one of heaven’s angels would.
Alfie whooped like a wild man, and he and Benji bolted off the porch and ran toward the girl, which was quite a feat for Benji with a cat in his arms. Andrew gathered his wits and took off after his bruderen. “Slow down,” he called, but if they heard him, they didn’t pay him any heed. The poor girl would think she was under attack.
Andrew had longer legs, so he caught up with his bruderen just as they caught up with the girl. “Hallo, Mary Coblenz,” Alfie said.
The girl raised a puzzled eyebrow and smiled as if Benji and Alfie were her favorite nephews. “Do I know you?”
Benji held the cat aloft, if by chance she hadn’t noticed it hissing in his arms. “We brought back your cat. And we brought our bruder Andrew.”
Alfie reached back, grabbed a handful of Andrew’s shirt, and pulled him forward. “This is Andrew.”
She took half a step backward. “Nice to see you again, Andrew.”
Did he know her?
The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place the face. She looked to be no more than nineteen or twenty. She might have gone to school with him, but he hadn’t paid much attention to the younger kids. Oy, anyhow. He should have paid attention. Mary Coblenz was as pretty as a picture.
Alfie seemed to wilt like a spring flower in the heat. “You already know each other?”
Mary’s smile twitched on her face. “I went to school with Andrew, but he’s four years older. I remember him because the younger girls were always in love with the older boys.” She tilted her head teasingly to one side. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
He hated to admit it. “Nae, I don’t.” He wished he would have remembered her, but what did it matter now? They’d met again, and he wouldn’t waste a second chance to get to know her better. Something told him she was someone he wanted to know very well.
She didn’t seem offended. “Maybe there’s not as much gossiping around here as I feared. I thought you would have heard my name by now.”
Alfie smiled with his whole face, obviously overjoyed that Andrew and Mary didn’t really know each other. “Mary jumped the fence, and she just got back. You said you don’t like any of the girls in Bienenstock.”
Andrew frowned and pulled his gaze from pretty Mary Coblenz. “I already told you. I never said that.”
Wait a minute. What was that other thing Alfie said? Jumped the fence? Did Alfie even know what jumping the fence meant? Mary had left the community to go out into the world? How long had she been gone, and why hadn’t he heard any gossip?
Ach, vell, that wasn’t hard to explain. He’d missed gmay last week to stay home with Dawdi, and he’d been pretty busy with the wood and the peanut butter to have much to do with his friends lately.
Mary’s smile faded as her eyes flicked in Alfie’s dir
ection, then she turned her steady gaze on Andrew. He found her look unnerving and fascinating at the same time. Mary may have jumped the fence, but he certainly couldn’t hold that against her. She’d come back, hadn’t she? And she had the most interesting blue eyes he had ever seen.
“Where should I put this cat?” Benji said.
Alfie poked Benji with his elbow. “Don’t interrupt. They’re talking to each other.”
“But it keeps scratching me.”
Mary smiled again, as if there was no such thing as an annoying eight-year-old boy. Andrew liked her better and better. “I was just going to the house. Let’s take him in.”
“He’s not a very nice cat,” Benji said.
Mary laughed. “That’s what makes him such a gute mouse cat. He’s mean enough to catch a mouse every day. His name is Billy Idol, after one of Bitsy’s favorite Englisch singers.”
“Here,” Andrew said, holding out his hand, “I’ll carry that frame for you.”
She handed over the frame she’d been holding in front of her, and Andrew nearly lost his balance. Mary Coblenz was pregnant! Very pregnant. Pregnant enough that he could tell she was pregnant.
An involuntary gasp escaped his lips, and he felt as if he’d been socked in the head with a basketball. The frame slipped from his hand and fell in the dirt.
Mary eyed him, a mixture of hurt and defiance in her expression. “Ach. I thought you knew.” She folded her arms and scrunched her lips to one side of her face. “No wonder you were so nice.”
Alfie had no sense of the awkward situation. “And look, Andrew. She’s going to have a baby.”
“Do you . . . do you have a husband?” He knew it was rude the moment it came out of his mouth. Besides, he already knew the answer. Of course she didn’t have a husband. She had left the community, she was living with Bitsy Weaver instead of her family, and Andrew probably would have heard about a wedding.
Benji grinned like a cat—well, like any cat but the one he was holding. “She’s not married. What do you think about that?”
“I’m not married,” she said, as if she wanted to be sure Andrew had heard Benji correctly.
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