Andrew

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  In an effort to escape her piercing, unembarrassed gaze, Andrew reached down and retrieved the frame he’d dropped. He handed it back to Mary. “We need to go.”

  Alfie groaned. “Come on, Andy. We just got here.”

  He didn’t have any other explanation but the truth. “I don’t want you boys to be uncomfortable.”

  Mary cocked an eyebrow. “Are you boys uncomfortable?”

  Alfie shook his head. Benji squinted in Andrew’s direction. “The cat scratched me and I have a pebble in my shoe. I’m in pain, but I’m not uncomfortable.”

  “We like you,” Alfie said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Alfie tried to pull on Andrew’s shirt again. “Andrew likes you too.”

  Mary glanced at Andrew, and her look made him squirm, as if he was the one who was guilty instead of her. “Are you uncomfortable, Andrew?”

  “One of us should be.”

  “And why is that?” She was purposefully goading him. Did she want to embarrass him or justify herself?

  Andrew stepped between his bruderen, put one hand over each of their ears, and nudged them so their other ears were pressed against his sides. “Because you’re in a family way,” he whispered.

  One side of her lips curled upward. “Ach, I don’t think you have to cover their ears. They seem to be aware.”

  “Hey,” Alfie said, wriggling free of Andrew’s grip.

  Benji did the same. “What did you do that for?”

  Andrew tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Mary didn’t seem sorry for what she had done. What kind of girl didn’t even feel remorse for . . . for doing that? She acted as if she didn’t even care, as if she didn’t see the need to repent. It didn’t matter about Mary. Andrew’s first responsibility was to protect his bruderen. They shouldn’t see things that would give rise to questions that Andrew had no intention of answering.

  Andrew turned at the sound of Bitsy Weaver’s open-air buggy coming across the small wooden bridge. Bitsy’s dress was bright pink like Mary’s kerchief, and her hair glowed a light shade of blue. The color was completely out of place for an Amish fraa, but the bishop hadn’t made a fuss about it, so the community put up with her. Most people liked Bitsy too much to be concerned about her hair color or the occasional nail polish she wore. Those who didn’t approve whispered behind her back and avoided her at gmay. Bitsy seemed perfectly content with herself, no matter what other people thought of her.

  It was no wonder Mary was living with Bitsy. There weren’t but a handful of people in the community who would have taken in Mary in her condition. For sure and certain Mary’s parents hadn’t allowed her back in the house.

  Andrew frowned. Mary had done something terribly wrong. She should rightfully be ashamed, but it didn’t seem right that her parents wouldn’t let her come home. Of course, she didn’t seem all that sorry. Maybe her parents wanted her to show some remorse.

  Bitsy stopped the buggy next to them. “If it isn’t the Peanut Butter Brothers, come for a visit. What have you got to say for yourselves?”

  “We’re not here to visit,” Andrew said, wanting to make it clear that he would never intentionally come to visit Mary Coblenz.

  Bitsy puckered her lips as if his words tasted like a lemon. “Did you come to pester Mary? Because if you did, you can just march right back the way you came. I won’t allow it.”

  Mary sighed and glanced in Andrew’s direction. “I’m fine, Aunt Bitsy. It’s only to be expected.”

  Bitsy climbed from the buggy, positioned herself between Mary and Andrew, and looked Andrew up and down like he was a lame horse for sale. “You’re handsome enough, Andrew Petersheim, but that don’t make you better than anybody. Just you remember that. He who is without sin can cast the first stone. The rest of you can keep your comments to yourself.”

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Bitsy,” Mary said. “He’s been very nice.”

  Andrew resisted the urge to lower his gaze. There was no reason to feel guilty. He had been nice, as nice as he could be to a girl who’d been taken in sin. Bitsy didn’t need to lecture him.

  Once again, Benji held up that stupid cat. He was no doubt ready to be rid of it. “Here’s your cat.”

  Bitsy propped her hands on her hips. “Well. If it isn’t Billy Idol. He disappeared this morning.” She narrowed her eyes in Benji’s direction. “It’s a wonder he made it all the way to your house.”

  Benji clutched the cat to his chest and took a step back. “He’s a fast runner.”

  “Hmm.” Bitsy nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I thought maybe he’d been stolen, but I shouldn’t have got my hopes up.”

  Alfie laughed a fake, uncomfortable laugh. What was wrong with him? “Who would want to steal this cat?”

  “Who indeed?” Bitsy said. She looked from Benji and Alfie to Andrew. Her gaze lingered on Andrew a little too long. “Well, I should feed you something to show my appreciation for bringing back my cat, even if I don’t like him all that much. Cum to the house. I made honey buns.”

  Alfie caught his breath. He and Benji smiled at each other. “With honey?”

  “Jah, with real honey.”

  “Where do you want me to put this cat?” Benji said.

  Bitsy pointed to the fields behind the barn. “He probably wants to hunt. Put him down anywhere. He always finds his way home. Well, almost always. Except this morning.”

  Benji relaxed his hold on the cat, and he immediately jumped from Benji’s arms and bolted behind one of Bitsy’s sheds.

  Benji breathed a sigh of relief and Alfie put a brotherly arm around him. “You did a good job, Benji.”

  Benji grinned. “Denki. I didn’t know this would be so hard.”

  “Don’t dawdle,” Bitsy said. “My honey buns will get stale.”

  Andrew had no intention of staying to eat honey buns. “We need to go. Mamm expects us home for dinner.”

  Alfie was a champion whiner. “Aw, come on, Andrew. Mamm won’t care.”

  Bitsy wouldn’t stop looking at Andrew, as if she was trying to read his mind. “So, Andrew Petersheim, you don’t want to stay.”

  Of course he didn’t want to stay. Mary Coblenz was making him wonderful uncomfortable. “Mamm would be unhappy if they ruined their dinner.”

  Bitsy thought about that for a minute and nodded. “How is your dawdi?”

  “He is coming along, but Mamm and Mammi still have to do most everything for him.”

  Would she quit looking at him like that? “Your mamm says she couldn’t get along without you. She says you lift him out of bed every morning because your dat isn’t strong enough. And you help him in the bathroom.”

  “He’s my dawdi. For sure and certain he used to clean up after me.”

  Bitsy looked up into the sky. “Denki, Lord, that you never blessed me with boys. I wouldn’t have any hair left to color.” She finished her prayer—Bitsy was known for praying out loud—and looked at Andrew again. “How is your mamm doing with Martha?”

  “She’s doing just fine,” Andrew said, because it was hard to explain the cookie sheets and the rose water, and Mamm wouldn’t like it if Andrew thought she wasn’t “doing fine.”

  Bitsy smirked. “Ach, vell. Tell her she’s always welcome to come to my house and just sit. She’d have to put up with the cats, but at least the cats don’t say anything.”

  Andrew didn’t know quite what to say to that. Any reply would mean they’d have to have a conversation and stay longer than Andrew wanted to. He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable with Mary Coblenz, pregnant and standing not five feet away from him. “I’ll tell her,” he finally said. Bitsy could take that any way she wanted.

  Benji took Andrew’s hand. “Can’t we stay?”

  The boys were persistent, but they usually did what Andrew said when he was firm. Besides, they didn’t want to risk Mamm’s wrath. She truly would be irritated if they ruined their dinner. He shook his head. “Get in the buggy.”

  Both boys groaned as if they’d been asked
to muck out the barn, but they turned and trudged up the lane, looking like scholars on the first day of school.

  Andrew followed them, turning to give Bitsy and Mary a swift goodbye nod. He should have offered to carry that frame to the house. It was heavy, and Mary was in a family way. Even though he should have helped her, he couldn’t regret getting out of there as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to have anything to do with Mary Coblenz ever again.

  He climbed in the buggy, turned Snapper around and down the lane, passing Bitsy and Mary one more time before he drove over the bridge and off Honeybee Farm.

  Benji and Alfie were both beaming like a pair of headlights, as if they’d completely forgotten how dejected they were not two minutes ago.

  “She’s pretty. Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

  Andrew wasn’t about to admit anything like that. “Who, Bitsy? I like her blue hair, I guess.”

  Alfie rolled his eyes. “Not Bitsy. Mary. She’s prettier than any girl in Bienenstock.”

  “Pretty is as pretty does,” Andrew muttered.

  Benji nudged the buggy floor with the toe of his foot. “You should take her to the singeon.”

  “You don’t take a girl to a singeon,” Andrew said.

  Benji pulled back his sleeve and studied a small scratch on his wrist. “Then take her to the next gathering.”

  Andrew frowned. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for Mary to go to a gathering.”

  “What does appropriate mean?”

  “It means right or good.” Neither of which applied to Mary.

  “Why wouldn’t it be appropriate?”

  Benji asked too many questions. How could Andrew explain that it wasn’t right for Mary to be seen in the community, broadcasting her sin like that, behaving as if she’d done nothing wrong? “It just wouldn’t, that’s all. Ask Mamm when we get home.”

  “Okay,” Alfie said. “But when are you going to visit her again?”

  Andrew jerked on the reins and almost ran the buggy off the side of the road. “Visit her? I’m not going to visit her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not.”

  Both Benji and Alfie eyed him with puzzled concern. “Don’t you like her?” Benji said.

  “Like her? Of course I don’t like her.”

  “Not even a little?” Alfie asked.

  Andrew shook his head. “Not even a little.”

  Unlike Alfie’s fake tears, Benji never pretended to cry. That’s why the water that pooled in his eyes surprised Andrew. “But she’s so nice, and I got all these cat scratches.”

  “She’s nice, Benji, but I don’t want to ever talk to her again.”

  A small sob escaped Benji’s throat. “Why not?”

  Andrew wasn’t quite sure why Benji was so upset, unless he liked honey buns a lot more than Andrew thought he did. He reached out and messed up Benji’s already unruly hair. “She’s a very nice girl and very pretty, but . . . I’m just not interested.”

  “Not interested?” Alfie’s voice rose in pitch with every word. “After all that, you’re not interested? What’s wrong with you?” He stomped his foot on the floor of the buggy. “You are a dumkoff, Andrew. A dumkoff.”

  “That is uncalled for, young man.” Ach. Andrew sounded like his mater.

  “It’s true,” Alfie said, glaring at Andrew as if he’d taken the last helping of mashed potatoes. “Our air mattress is flat, there’s a ghost in the cellar, and we could get eaten by spiders for all you care.”

  “Your air mattress is flat?”

  Benji swiped a tear from his cheek. “I popped it with my fork.”

  “Did you tell Mamm?”

  Alfie shook his head. “She’ll get mad.”

  “I get hungry at night sometimes,” Benji added, as if that explained everything.

  Andrew hated to see his bruderen so upset, even if he wasn’t quite sure of the reason. A flat air mattress had probably done it. “Okay, boys, I will come down after dinner to patch and fill your air mattress. But don’t go poking it with any sharp objects.”

  Benji nodded, a look of earnest regret on his face.

  “And I want both of you to stay away from Mary Coblenz. Do you understand?”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t want you getting any ideas.”

  “Ideas about what?” Benji said.

  “Just ideas.”

  Alfie would not be mollified. He folded his arms and stared out the side window. “I’m not giving up.”

  Benji looked at Alfie then at Andrew, scooted ever so slightly in Alfie’s direction, and put his arm around his twin bruder. “Me neither.”

  Alfie’s mouth twitched upward.

  Andrew didn’t like that expression. It always meant trouble.

  Chapter Four

  Alfie sneaked a peek into Dawdi’s room. Dawdi’s eyes were open, even if it wasn’t time for his nap to be over. He was awake!

  Alfie motioned for Benji to follow, and they slid into the room and shut the door as quietly as possible. They’d have to hurry. Mammi Martha would be home from the store any minute now, and they needed to have a serious talk with Dawdi, and since Dawdi couldn’t talk, it was going to take a long time.

  “Hi, Dawdi,” Benji whispered, as if trying not to wake him, even though he was already awake.

  Dawdi turned his gaze in their direction and smiled.

  “Hey, Alfie,” Benji said, forgetting all about whispering. “He smiled. Did you see him smile?”

  “Of course I did. I got eyes.”

  Benji got real close to the bed and laid a hand on Dawdi’s arm. “Hey, Dawdi. You learned how to smile.”

  Alfie sidled next to Benji. “Do you know how to frown too?”

  Dawdi’s lips twitched, and he looked like he was concentrating hard. His smile disappeared, but you couldn’t exactly call his expression a frown.

  “That’s okay, Dawdi,” Alfie said, taking his hand. “You’re doing real gute.”

  Benji nodded. “Nobody needs to know how to frown anyway. It doesn’t matter if you never learn how.”

  Alfie nudged Benji. “Don’t say that. Mamm says we have to be encouraging.” He looked at Dawdi. “You’re going to learn how to frown, Dawdi. And then you’ll learn how to walk and talk, and you can take us to the stream to hunt for pollywogs.”

  Dawdi smiled again. He was the best pollywog hunter in the family, even if he was really old.

  Benji sniffled and rubbed his nose with the palm of his hand. If Benji started crying now, Dawdi would think he wasn’t going to get better. They had to show him a gute face, like Mamm always said. Besides, they didn’t have time for crying. Mammi would be home soon. Alfie stepped on Benji’s foot. Hard.

  “Ouch,” Benji said, scowling like it was Alfie’s fault he’d been about to ruin all of Dawdi’s hopes and dreams. “Stop it, Alfie.”

  Alfie squeezed Dawdi’s hand and pretended that Benji hadn’t said anything. “We know you’re going to learn how to talk, Dawdi, but we don’t have time to wait for that. We need your help now. We want to find Andrew a wife so he’ll move out and we don’t have to sleep in the cellar.”

  Benji patted Dawdi’s arm. “Even though it’s your fault we have to sleep in the cellar, we don’t want you to feel bad about it.”

  Alfie stomped on Benji’s big toe.

  Benji jumped and shoved Alfie away from him. “Stop that, Alfie.”

  They were wasting time, and they hadn’t even asked Dawdi any questions yet. “Dawdi,” Alfie said, rubbing the spot on his arm where Benji had shoved him, “we need to borrow your binoculars so we can find Andrew a wife. Is that okay?”

  Benji nodded encouragingly. “Can you show us your answer in your eyes?”

  Dawdi kept smiling, but Alfie couldn’t tell if his eyes said yes or no. He turned to Benji. “What did he say?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You said he sometimes gives you secret messages with his eyes.”

  “Sometimes,�
� Benji said. “Not every time. It looks like he’s saying ‘I love you, Benji.’ His eyes aren’t saying anything about binoculars.”

  Sometimes Benji was not a gute partner.

  Benji’s face brightened like a shiny penny. He patted Dawdi’s arm again. “Dawdi, we are going to ask you some questions. If the answer is yes, give us a smile. If the answer is no, give us a frown.”

  Alfie tried to step on Benji’s foot again, but Benji was too quick and scooted it out of the way. “Benji,” Alfie whispered through gritted teeth, “Dawdi doesn’t know how to frown.”

  “But if he doesn’t smile, we’ll know it’s supposed to be a frown.”

  Alfie furrowed his brow. That sort of made sense. “Okay, let’s try a fake question first.” He leaned on Dawdi’s leg so he could look closely at his face. “Dawdi, is my name Captain Haddock?” Dawdi quit smiling, which was as good as a frown to Alfie. His heart beat faster.

  “Dawdi,” Benji said, “what is my name?”

  Alfie growled. “It has to be yes or no, Benji. Ach, don’t you know anything?”

  “I forgot. Dawdi, did we catch a snake in your garden once?”

  Dawdi burst into a smile. Alfie and Benji paused in silence, threw their arms around each other, and jumped up and down.

  “Dawdi,” Alfie said, “can we use your binoculars to find Andrew a wife?”

  Another smile. They had their answer.

  Benji scrunched his lips to one side of his face. “Are they in the shed at your old house?”

  No smile. Uh-oh. Where were Dawdi’s binoculars?

  “Are they at our house?”

  A smile.

  “In this room?”

  Dawdi’s gaze traveled to the chest of drawers across from the bed. Benji searched through the drawers until he found Dawdi’s huge pair of black binoculars. Alfie couldn’t contain his excitement. He let out a war whoop and gave Dawdi a big hug.

  Benji tried to stuff the binoculars into his pocket, but there was no way they were going to fit. They’d have to take their chances sneaking them into the cellar without being seen. They both kissed Dawdi on the cheek. “This will do the trick for sure and certain,” Benji said, as they hurried to the door.