“Forget it,” Paula told him coolly. “We need to get home.”
As they drove away, Elizabeth stole a look back and saw him standing there, looking after the car.
“The waitress said men were after just one thing,” she said.
Paula’s laugh didn’t sound like it had any humor in it. “Yeah, well, I heard once they think about it—you know, S-E-X—every twenty-seven seconds. But there are nice guys out there.”
“Like Jason?” she asked with a smile.
“Yeah, like Jason.” Now she was the one smiling. “You’ll meet someone just right for you one day.” She fell silent. “Do you believe God has a plan for you, Elizabeth? He sets aside the right man for you?”
Surprised, she nodded, then realized Paula couldn’t see because she was driving. “Yes.”
“Well, it’s not Bruce.”
“No, it’s not Bruce.”
Paula pulled into the apartment complex parking lot. “But it’s all right, right?”
“Right.”
They got out of the car and Elizabeth retrieved the sewing machine and the bag of fabric.
“What are you going to make?” Paula asked her as they walked to the apartment.
“A new dress,” Elizabeth told her. “For the man God’s set aside for me.”
Paula laughed and patted her back. “That’s the spirit. Come on, I’ll fix you some supper.”
“Scrambled eggs and toast?”
“My spec-i-al-i-ty,” Paula told her with a big grin.
12
I’m glad you got here early,” Saul told Elizabeth when she walked into the store the next morning.
She glanced around. “Do we have customers already?”
“Nee.” He shut the door, leaving the closed sign on it. “Kumm, I made coffee.”
Elizabeth walked to the back room, hung up her jacket, and locked her purse away in the cupboard.
She sat down and studied him as he poured her a cup of coffee. He seemed distracted. Did an employer give you coffee when he was firing you?
“Have I done something wrong?”
Startled, he stared at her. “Of course not. Why do you ask?”
“You look . . . grim. Is everything okay?”
He set her mug before her and took a seat. “I don’t know. Elizabeth, the bishop stopped in yesterday after you left. He wanted to talk to you.”
“Me? Why?”
“I have no idea.”
Elizabeth stared into her coffee and then looked up at him. “I think I do.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “He must have heard from my family back in Goshen.”
“Perhaps they’re just concerned about you and they contacted him.”
“If they cared—” she stopped.
“I’m sure they care.”
“I sent my mother my new address and said I hoped she’d write me but instead I heard from my grandmother. She let me know she thinks I was a bad daughter to leave and says I should return home.”
He laid his hand over hers on the table. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
She blinked back tears. “I—I can’t talk about it.”
“You don’t have to.”
Elizabeth stared at him. He seemed surprised at what he’d said himself.
“If you don’t want to talk to him, you don’t have to,” he said decisively. “I’ll tell him, if you want. After all, you’re not a member of the church here. And you’re working.”
She couldn’t believe he’d stand up for her. The bishop was an important man. Saul barely knew her, after all. Emotion swamped her.
“No,” she said finally. “It’s very nice of you but I don’t want you to have any trouble over me. I’ll talk to him, but not here. It isn’t right he’d come to where I work and talk to me while you’re paying my wage. I’ll talk to him another time.”
He spread his hands. “It’s up to you.”
Someone rapped at the door. “I’ll get it,” she said quickly, grateful for the excuse to get away.
She took a deep breath and felt composed by the time she got to the door to greet the first customer to the store.
Every time the door opened and the bell above it jangled the presence of a visitor, she jumped and cast an apprehensive look in its direction.
“Enough!” she muttered.
Her lunch break came and she ate half her sandwich in the back room, then put the rest back in the refrigerator. Egg salad just didn’t mix well with butterflies.
And then the door opened, the bell jangled, and in walked the bishop.
Saul must have noticed her apprehension, because he moved behind the counter where she was finishing up a purchase for a customer.
“Get it over with now,” he said quietly. “Talk to him in the back room.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
So, she walked up to the bishop and invited him to accompany her to the back room. Saul caught her eye as the man walked past him and gave her a nod of encouragement as she passed.
He seated himself very deliberately at the head of the table.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Ya,” he said. “Two sugars.”
The sugar was sitting in a bowl on the table before him, but she merely nodded and fixed it the way he ordered. He obviously considered his stature as a religious leader to mean he deserved to be waited on. Besides, she’d learned from experience to pick her battles with toddlers in her home. Why make a fuss over something so minor when she didn’t know what she was up against yet?
She sat at the table, her hands folded in her lap, and waited for him to say why he’d come.
He stirred his coffee even though she’d done it, took a sip, and stroked his beard as he looked at her, his black eyes piercing. “I heard from your family back in Goshen,” he said finally. “They’re worried about you. They asked me to speak to you.”
“They?”
“Your grandmother wrote me for your family.”
“I see.”
“You need to go back home. You need to return to your church.” His tone was stern and final.
“I can’t do that.”
“Can’t—or won’t?”
“Won’t. I need some time away to know what’s best for me.”
“God knows what’s best for you.”
Her hands tightened in her lap. “If it is true, wouldn’t God have stopped me from getting on the bus?”
“I won’t debate this with you.”
Won’t or can’t? she wanted to ask him. How did he know what God considered best for her? she thought with a touch of rebellion.
He pushed the cup of coffee away and a little slopped over the rim onto the wooden table. She reached for a paper napkin from the holder on the table and dabbed it up.
The phone rang, the sound jarring in the tense atmosphere.
“Excuse me,” she said as she got up to answer it.
“Don’t say anything, just listen,” Saul said quickly when she said hello. “Do you want me to come rescue you?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I will check and see if we can order the item and get back to you.”
She hung up the phone and returned to her seat. “Sorry for the interruption.”
“I want you to think about what you’re doing and call your parents and tell them you’re coming home,” he told her, his eyes boring into hers.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said, working hard not to be intimidated. Her bishop back home was a much milder man than this one. “Now I have to return to work. It isn’t fair to the man paying my wages to have me conducting personal business on his dime.”
“You should be more concerned about being at risk of God’s displeasure with you and see the error of your ways before it’s too late. Remember what the Ordnung says about obedience.”
She rose. “Thank you again for coming.”
He rose stiffly, glarin
g at her the whole time, and stalked from the room. She followed him out and saw him give Saul a curt nod as he left the store.
“How are you?” Saul asked her quietly.
She turned to him and lifted her chin. “I’m gut,” she said, and she gave him a smile she hoped wasn’t as shaky as it felt. “Thank you for calling me and offering to come to my rescue. I didn’t expect that.”
“You’re welcome. It strikes me, though, you didn’t need rescuing.” He walked away.
Elizabeth wondered if it was her imagination he sounded a little disappointed. She thought about last night. If he only knew . . . she’d been lucky Paula had been able to come for her. What would she have done otherwise?
Saul had never had a problem with keeping his mind on business.
It wasn’t pride. After all, Der hochmut kummt vor dem fall—pride goeth before a fall. No, it was simply a matter of being able to work when at work. It was what a man did. Especially if he wanted to prosper. And wanted to make his business successful for his son to take over as he’d taken over from his father.
One of the things his father had taught him about the business was to take care of the people who created the crafts for their store. They were the heart and soul of the store—the reason it existed. But it was more than that. The store meant the people in their community could carry on traditions and stay there to take care of their families and friends.
And being paid well and promptly, so they could feed and clothe their family was at the heart of Samuel’s business philosophy.
So when Barbie didn’t show up to pick up her second check, Saul knew he could drop it in the mail or wait until church to give it to her. But he also knew her family needed the money more than usual right now with her husband sick and unable to work. The sooner she received the money the sooner she could use it.
The errand wouldn’t take but a few minutes and he’d be free of his obligation. His driver didn’t have any problem waiting for a few minutes while he walked up to the door of Barbie’s house and handed over the check.
Now Saul stood there waiting for his knock to be answered and found himself praying Barbie would greet him.
The door opened and Lillian of the fluttering eyelashes appeared.
“Saul! Gut-n-Owed. So nice to see you!”
He shook his head. “Gut-n-Owed. Is your mother at home?”
She opened the door. “She’s in the kitchen. Come in!”
Saul wanted to just hand her the check and be on the way.
“Lillian! Is it Saul? Ask him to come in!”
He waved at his driver to indicate he needed a minute, and Phil nodded.
“I brought your check,” he announced. He pulled it from his pocket.
Barbie’s cheeks were pink from the heat of the stove as she turned from stirring a pot on a burner. “Danki. You could have just mailed it.” She tucked it safely into the pocket of her apron. “Can you stay for supper?”
“I made a snitz pie,” Lillian said.
Saul hadn’t realized she’d come to stand so close to him. So close he could see her fluttering her eyelashes.
“Uh, no, I need to be getting home. But danki.”
“Maybe another time,” Lillian said.
He nodded and hoped she wouldn’t pin him down on when.
Barbie’s mann walked in then, leaning heavily on a cane. Saul waited until the man switched the cane to another hand and held his right one out for a handshake.
“Glad to see you up and about,” he told him.
“He starts physical therapy next week,” Barbie said.
“Work would be therapy,” Stephen muttered.
Barbie sighed and shook her head.
“Well, let me know when you have a delivery,” Saul told her. “I’ll send someone or stop by for it myself.”
“Maybe I’ll be able to do it,” Stephen said hopefully.
“We’ll see,” his wife said.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Lillian told Saul.
He walked quickly, but she still got in an invitation to the next singing.
“Danki,” he said. “But I’m not going.”
“You never go to them.” Her tone turned sulky.
“I’m feeling kind of old for them. But I hope you go and have a good time.” He smiled at her, hoping it would lessen any rejection she might feel.
He walked quickly to the van and climbed inside. Narrow escape, he couldn’t help thinking.
Phil started the van. “You didn’t need rush.”
Saul took a deep breath. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer.”
As the van pulled out of the drive, he saw Lillian standing there staring after it. He felt a moment of guilt but he just wasn’t interested in her. Once he’d been flattered at her flirting with him, but a friend had let him know Lillian’s interest was in his ability to provide for her rather than in him as a man.
It was the bad thing about living in a small community—you sometimes knew too much about someone. Or was it a good thing? Everyone grew up together, knew each other. But he just couldn’t muster up any interest in any of the maedels he knew.
His thoughts went to Elizabeth—conflicted thoughts. He’d been alternately attracted to her and somewhat disturbed by hearing she’d come here to get away from what she felt was a burdensome duty to her family.
Well, it didn’t matter. She didn’t seem interested in him. So that was that.
He was relieved when Phil asked him about his schedule for the rest of the week. He didn’t need to be thinking about Elizabeth.
As soon as supper was over and the dishes were put into the dishwasher, Elizabeth got out her shopping bag with the new fabric.
“I’ve been looking forward to cutting out my new dress all day,” she told Paula. “Do you mind if I cut it out on the dining room floor?”
“No, but wouldn’t you rather do it on the table?”
“Not enough room,” Elizabeth said, kneeling on the wooden floor.
“Do you mind if I watch?”
“Not at all. It’s not very exciting, though.”
Paula sat cross-legged on the floor and put her chin in her hand, propping her elbow on her leg. “I think it is. I’ve never sewed a dress. We had a sewing unit in my high school life sciences class, but we made aprons. How silly. I mean, who wears aprons these days?”
Elizabeth just looked at her.
“Oh, right,” Paula said. “I mean, very few Englisch women wear them.”
“I don’t understand why.” Elizabeth cut out the pattern pieces and lay them on the floor. “They’re so good for protecting your clothing.”
Paula picked up the pattern envelope and studied the dress pictured on it. “So you’re going to make an Indiana dress?”
“I’m from Indiana,” Elizabeth pointed out with a grin.
“True. But you’re in Pennsylvania now.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to make one of the kind the Amish women wear here?”
Elizabeth concentrated on cutting out the next pattern piece. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
“Oh. I see.”
She finished with the pattern pieces and spread the material out, smoothing it as she went. Humming, she pinned the pattern pieces to the material, careful to place them as close together as possible in order to save material. Every little bit of material was carefully used in an Amish home. She’d save the scraps in case she needed a patch for the dress. Or if she wanted to make a dress for a doll for one of her little sisters. Christmas was coming soon.
“What’s the sigh for?”
“Hmm?”
Paula tilted her head and studied her. “You sighed and looked a little sad when you’d been so happy cutting out the material.”
“I was thinking I could use some of the scraps of material to make a dress for a doll for one of my little sisters. Christmas isn’t so far away.”
“Are you going to go back home for Christmas?”
She heard Paula sigh. “I’m sorry.”
Sitting back, Elizabeth met her gaze. “Thank you. It means a lot.”
She looked around the apartment. The modern, nearly new space with stylish furniture and sparkling appliances was so different from what she’d grown up with. Not better. Just different. Something she’d never anticipated when she left home and knew only her pen pal waited to shelter her.
“Well, I’m selfish enough to say it’ll be nice to have you here for Christmas. My last roommate went skiing for Christmas vacation.”
“Jason will be here,” Elizabeth reminded her. “I don’t think you’ll care who else will be around.”
“I will, too,” Paula said staunchly.
Elizabeth cut out the last part of the dress, folded all the pieces, and put them back into the shopping bag. She checked the floor for pins, picked up a few threads, and got to her feet.
“How long will it take to make the dress?”
“It’s been a long time since I got to sew and then it was in just bits and pieces of time. It might take more than an evening.”
They decided to set the machine up on the dining room table so Elizabeth could join Paula in watching a television show.
Elizabeth missed using her mother’s old treadle machine but after she figured out the difference in threading the needle between the two machines she began sewing. She smiled as she guided the material under the presser foot and listened to the whir of the machine as it stitched. It was a task and a sound she’d missed.
“You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Paula asked when the program they were watching ended.
She nodded. “I always liked sewing. And I’m going to love having another dress to wear.”
“Every girl appreciates having something new and pretty to wear. I’m making a cup of tea. Want one?”
“Yes, it would be nice.” She sewed another seam and set the piece aside. The top of the dress was already coming along.
Paula brought over the tea and they sat and sipped it.
“So can I ask you something?” Paula asked her.
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