The Ebb Tide

by Beverly Lewis

  “It’s time,” Sallie said.

  Later, when the kitchen was all cleaned, Sallie shared her plans to fly to Australia. “I didn’t want to say anything yesterday . . . didn’t seem appropriate.”

  “Well, you’ve been holdin’ your breath for this trip for some time,” Essie said, wiping the counter off behind the cookie jar.

  “Seems like forever.”

  “I’ll miss ya while you’re away . . . and keep ya in my prayers,” Essie said, smiling.

  “You sure have a lot to pray for right now,” Sallie remarked as she poured herself a glass of water.

  “We should seek the Lord’s will in all things,” Essie said. “We can always trust Him for what’s best.”

  ———

  Essie’s words lingered as Sallie slipped away to the field lane for the mules, where no one could see her as she prayed. Surely it was no coincidence that Essie and her father had both spoken recently of trust.

  The springtime breezes encircled Sallie as she beseeched the Lord for her young nephew’s healing. And the longer she did, the more she realized that her exhilaration for the upcoming trip had faded. She could think only of precious Aaron and the mountain of expenses ahead for his family.

  She remembered how it felt to hold tiny Aaron when he was just days old, so new and dear . . . Vernon and Barbie Ann’s firstborn son. He could die without medical help. Sallie remembered how his slim arms had wrapped tightly around her the last time she had seen him, and it was all she could do not to weep.

  If only I could help in some way.

  In the near distance, Sallie spotted the phone shanty, weathered and worn, where it stood alone in the cornfield.

  The thought crossed her mind, Even if I call tomorrow, I could get a refund.

  The years of dreaming and planning . . . the long hours at work—could she truly give that up? She struggled with what she ought to do, holding her breath and clasping her hand to her chest.

  Oh, all my hard-earned travel money!

  Sighing deeply, she choked back tears, and just then, it seemed as if the Lord himself was opening her eyes and her heart. Could this be one of those divine nudges Essie talks about? she thought, wiping tears away. What Sallie felt sure she was being asked to do was ever so hard, yet inexplicably, she felt an immeasurable sense of peace.

  4

  At Saturday market, Sallie wasted no time in organizing her table, needing to keep her mind occupied. She laid out the crocheted doilies on one side—whites, off-whites, and pale blues—and the neatly pressed pillowcases on the other. She’d heavily starched several smaller doilies and lined them up in the middle. Sallie liked the looks of them, all stiff and pretty.

  She waved at Alexis Hoffman, who stood near her own table, selling doilies and table runners. Alexis grinned at her and pointed to her white miniature poodle on a leash nearby.

  Then Sallie happened to look over at the market table two booths away, on the other side of the aisle. Her breath caught when she spotted good-looking Perry Zook, dressed in his black for-good trousers and vest, evidently overseeing his mother’s table. What on earth was he doing there in Amanda Zook’s stead?

  Observing the young man who had shown an interest in her last winter now selling his mother’s fragrant homemade soaps and lotions and sachets of potpourri, Sallie felt downright peculiar. She could hear him greeting the customers cordially, yet the more she considered his being present there, the more curious she was. Where are his sisters?

  Of course, leave it to Perry to lend his mother a hand, even if it meant manning a booth selling items targeted to Englischer women. Perry was not one to turn away from helping anyone.

  “What happened ’tween you and Perry Zook?” Frannie had asked a couple months ago. “I thought he might ask ya out . . . yous sure seemed to have a gut time together at that skatin’ party.”

  Sallie didn’t remember what excuse she’d given, but Frannie must have assumed it was Sallie’s fault that Perry had not sought her out after Singings and other youth activities. After all, she had been spending even more time at work this past year, taking on extra shifts whenever available, all with one goal in mind. There simply hadn’t been time for courting.

  But now Perry’s deep voice kept intruding on Sallie’s thoughts, despite the fact that she was supposed to be caught up in selling her own items.

  Along about eleven o’clock, Alexis’s poodle managed to get loose and went sniffing about near Perry’s market table, perhaps having picked up the scent of the sandwich he had taken from his lunchbox. Not wasting any time, Perry moved around to the front of the table, scooped up the dog, and carried her back to a red-faced Alexis, who was searching high and low for the pet.

  All this Sallie observed as she glanced up the aisle. It struck her again how gentle Perry had always been. He’d shown a similar caring nature for a hummingbird caught in a thick spider web on the bishop’s porch after Preaching last summer, the tiny bird struggling to survive. Perry reached in and cupped the helpless hummingbird in his big palm and slowly pulled it away. He’d painstakingly removed the sticky snarls of web from the fragile wings, and after an eternity of minutes, the bird eventually managed to right itself on the flat of his palm and flutter away.

  Perry seemed to have the same caring way with children as he had with animals. Sallie wondered why he hadn’t sought out one of the single girls in their Paradise church district to court, since it seemed he was free to do so. Frannie believes he’s fond of me, she thought.

  Seeing Perry hurry back toward his mother’s booth, Sallie snatched up a bright set of pillowcases—the ones embroidered with Maximilian sunflowers—and deftly refolded them.

  “Hullo there, Sallie.” He grinned as he approached her table.

  She nodded. “Wie geht’s?”

  “Wunnerbaar-gut. How are you?”

  “Oh, just enjoyin’ the day,” she replied.

  “I’ve always enjoyed bein’ at market. Lots of gut people here.” He winked at her.

  She blushed and breathed more easily when he waved and headed back across the aisle.

  After a noon hour during which the number of sales had only slightly lagged, Sallie’s boss’s wife, lovely Yvonne Sullivan, dropped by. “How are you, Sallie?” she said, looking especially nice in her silky ivory blouse and black pants. Her silver earrings dangled, twinkling.

  “I’m just fine,” Sallie replied. “Business sure is hoppin’.”

  They talked about the nice weather, then on to details about the restaurant, at which point Sallie thought she should let Yvonne know that she wouldn’t need two weeks off, after all. “Australia’s not happening.”

  “Oh dear.” Yvonne’s eyes widened.

  “Not to worry. Something more important came up.”

  Yvonne seemed bewildered by this; then a smile slipped across her face. “By the way, the Logan family will be seated at one of your tables tonight. Just a heads-up. You remember Leonard and Monique and their daughter, Autumn, I’m sure.”

  Sallie liked the Logans, whom she’d waited on off and on over the past few years, but she wondered why Yvonne was making a point of mentioning this.

  “Len has requested you be their waitress for the evening.”

  “Oh? A special occasion?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, though Autumn recently celebrated her birthday and evidently wants to see you again,” Yvonne said, lowering her voice some. “She’s nine now and says she’s proud to be one year away from two digits.”

  Sallie smiled at the thought of the petite girl with the spunky personality. “I’ll make a birthday card for her.” Still, she had no idea why the Logans would specifically ask for her.

  “Autumn thinks you can do no wrong.”

  Sallie felt her cheeks warm. “Ach, what a thing to say.”

  “You can’t argue with such a darling child.” Yvonne stepped closer, an expensive-smelling fragrance wafting in. “And perhaps you can meet their new little blessing, too. Monique
has her hands very full at present.”

  “Their little one . . .”

  “Baby Connor was quite a surprise.”

  Sallie took it all in. “Well, Monique’s resourceful. I s’pect she’ll manage fine. New mothers do, as a rule.”

  “Right, but do plan to spend extra time with them tonight, okay?” Yvonne winked and headed down the aisle toward a table displaying brightly colored tins of peanut brittle and dark almond bark.

  “Goodness,” Sallie whispered to herself, puzzled by Yvonne’s sudden change of demeanor so soon after Sallie had announced her own altered plans.

  Had Lyman Sullivan asked his wife to stop by today? She pondered the notion till a new group of customers came by, a couple of them rather chatty. One young woman asked what size crochet hook Sallie preferred for her doily making, while another asked to special order a half dozen of the lace pieces in different colors, which pleased Sallie very much.

  And all the while, handsome Perry continued to charm his mother’s customers, his infectious laughter ringing out in intervals, distracting Sallie yet again.

  Back home following market, Sallie spotted Mamm in the family’s kitchen garden cutting rhubarb not far from the potting shed. Nearby, large, fluffy peonies were in full bloom, a canvas of pink, coral, and cardinal red.

  “Where’s Frannie?” Sallie called, hurrying across the backyard to her. “Thought she’d be helpin’ you.”

  “Well, she did for a while, hoeing and whatnot, but now she’s washin’ the utility room floor.” Mamm straightened to catch her breath and pushed back her blue bandanna. “Say, lest I forget, Cousin Essie wants you to stop by before you leave for work.” Mamm paused to wipe her perspiring brow with the back of her hand, the sun having burnt off the morning’s heavy haze. “She’s made a small supper basket to save ya time.”

  Since Sallie’s shift began at five o’clock and ran till ten-thirty, she was glad. Glancing over at the charming cottage in the clearing, she smiled. It wasn’t the first time Essie had made such a show of kindness. “I’ll get washed up and dress around right quick, then make a birthday card for one of our out-of-town customers.” She told her mother about talkative Autumn Logan.

  “You’re so thoughtful, Sallie.” Mamm’s face was serious but kind. “Your father just told me about the sacrifice you made . . . must’ve been awful hard.”

  Sallie shook her head slowly. “It wasn’t that hard. Not compared with what Aaron has to face.”

  “He’s so little, so very young. . . .” Mamm reached for her and held her close. “My dear, dear girl.”

  When they parted, Sallie headed up the back steps and into the house.

  Frannie was washing the floor on her hands and knees, her old brown choring dress bunched up under her as Sallie attempted to tiptoe around.

  “Ach, such a futile job!” Frannie said, pushing a loose strand of hair from her face with the back of her hand. Sallie could sympathize, having done her share of scrubbing floors—in fact, she’d swept this very one just yesterday morning. Some tasks are never really finished.

  “I’ll go round the side way.” Sallie stepped back, but Frannie called for her to remove the shoes she’d worn to market and just come in barefoot.

  “After all,” Frannie said, laughing, “it’ll just get messy again when Dat comes in later.”

  “A sign on the screen door might help: Dat, please remove work boots before entering.” Now Sallie was laughing. “Wouldn’t it be nice to keep a floor clean for longer than a few minutes?”

  “I’ll say,” Frannie agreed.

  Sallie wondered if Mamm and Dat had told Frannie yet about the canceled trip, so before heading upstairs, Sallie said, “I’m not goin’ to Australia after all . . . because of Aaron’s medical bills.”

  Frannie gave her a discerning look. “Aw, Sallie, you have to be disappointed.”

  Sallie nodded. “I would have liked to see Australia . . . but Aaron’s such a sweet boy. Lord willing, he’ll live a long and full life. I’m thankful to be able to help.”

  Frannie smiled, her eyes communicating compassion. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m sure. But I would like to keep this hush-hush if I can—besides Essie, just you and Dat and Mamm know.”

  Frannie agreed, and as Sallie made her way up the stairs, she was glad she’d been the one to tell Frannie. “I’ll miss her terribly when she’s married,” Sallie whispered to herself, poking her head into her sister’s bedroom. She paused to look at the familiar oak dresser and bed frame Dat had made—a matching set to the one in her own room—and the plump loveseat all done in blue and green plaid to coordinate with a summer quilt featuring the Country Songbird pattern. On the far wall, a similar motif accented the wall hanging made by Mamm for Frannie’s last birthday.

  Sallie sighed at the simple trappings of her sister’s cozy haven down the hall from her own. They’d been together all of their lives. In that solemn moment, she realized how much things were going to change.

  5

  At the very top of the birthday card for Autumn, Sallie drew several small daisies and filled them in with colored pencil. Yellow for friendship. Then, quickly, she got ready for work.

  The air was as thick as Mamm’s tapioca as Sallie slipped on the long black dress and cape apron she was permitted to wear while waitressing. Her sunlit blond hair was kept in a secure bun, the kind Lyman Sullivan had once remarked all the wait staff with long hair really ought to wear. Sallie also wore her white Kapp; otherwise her parents might not have approved of her working at the Old Barn Restaurant. As it was, they were less than pleased with the idea of her regularly rubbing shoulders with fancy folk four nights a week—Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays—although it had helped them to know that other Amish worked there.

  At Essie’s, Sallie was presented with an ample supper basket.

  “Mamm said it was small. You outdid yourself!” Sallie exclaimed.

  “’Twas nothin’,” Essie said with a shake of her head. “Share what you can’t eat with the other waitresses.” Essie gave her the wicker basket, her smile sweet.

  “Denki.”

  Essie’s brown eyes were alight. “Your father’s burstin’ his buttons at your gift to Aaron’s medical fund. And I couldn’t be more grateful myself.”

  Sallie shrugged it off. “You would’ve done the same. Anyone would have.”

  She headed for the back door, the supper basket on her arm. “Denki again.”

  “Enjoy your supper break,” Essie called to her cordially. “And may the Lord bless you abundantly.”

  “Oh, He truly has!” Sallie waved, hoisting up the basket. Might not be much time to eat all this, she thought, knowing how busy Saturday nights at the family restaurant could be. Still, she was eager to find out what Essie had taken time to make.

  Sallie shifted her weight, the supper basket a bit heavy on her arm as she waited for the driver at the end of the lane. A fresh breeze blew across the field, hinting at rain to come, as she checked her watch once more. The driver was not yet in sight, but there was still time. Lyman Sullivan doesn’t like his wait staff arriving in a rush.

  A couple horse-drawn vehicles were coming this way. As the first one approached, she could see Alma Yoder, their deacon’s elderly mother, who looked quite weary as she held the driving lines in her bony hands. Alma’s wrinkled face burst into a grin when she spied Sallie there near the road, and she slowed the horse. “Need a ride somewheres?” Alma called in her small voice.

  “Just headed to work,” Sallie answered. “Denki.”

  “Take gut care, now, won’t ya?” Alma said and passed on by.

  You too, Sallie thought, wondering how she would manage at Alma’s fragile age.

  The next one was an open market wagon.

  “Hullo, Sallie!” Perry’s younger sister Marion called cheerfully from atop her father’s wagon. She and her sister Gladys sat side by side, their sleeves rippling in the breeze.

  Marion directed
the mare onto the shoulder and stopped to ask if Sallie would like a ride to work.

  “My driver’s on his way,” Sallie replied, “but nice of you to offer.”

  Marion leaned forward, still holding the driving lines. An endearing smile stretched across her dimpled cheeks. “Gladys and I are goin’ for ice cream tomorrow evening. Won’t ya come along?” Wisps of Marion’s light brown hair had slipped free at the nape of her neck.

  “We’ll have a real nice time,” Gladys added, brown eyes shining as she exchanged glances with her sister.

  Sallie was instantly speechless. Being invited by Perry’s sisters like this was quite out of the ordinary.

  What’s goin’ on? Sallie wondered.

  Marion’s round face turned red as a peeled beet. She leaned forward. “We could pick you up, say around seven o’clock?”

  Sallie found herself helpless to refuse their kindness. “Jah,” she agreed, and that quick, she wished she hadn’t.

  Gladys’s face lit up at that. “Till tomorrow, then,” she said as she and Marion waved.

  Groaning inwardly, Sallie bobbed her head and watched as they pulled back onto Peach Lane. She could see the familiar white van finally coming into view and moved Cousin Essie’s food basket to the other arm, preparing to hop inside the van the moment the driver stopped.

  The walkways leading to the Old Barn Restaurant glistened in the aftermath of a recent rain shower. The farm setting featured a petting zoo where youngsters could learn to milk a cow or goat, and it was enhanced by abundant perennial gardens and a gurgling brook. The quaint exterior always captured Sallie’s attention as she made her way around to the employees’ entrance, past the white footbridge over the stream and the nearby matching gazebo. She’d seen a few English brides pose for wedding photographs in both locations.

  She carried Essie’s basket of suppertime goodies inside to the break room, placing it in her designated cupboard. After washing her hands, she received instructions from Lyman Sullivan before going to greet the dinner guests who had just been seated in her section.