“What sort of things did she pack for you?” Frannie asked, looking a bit tired from her late night out with Jesse.
“Ach, plenty, including the best cake I’ve eaten in years.”
“You ate the whole thing?”
Sallie laughed. “Hardly. One slice was enough to feed both my friend Kelsey and me, and even then, it was nearly too much.”
“What else was in the basket?”
Sallie enumerated each item. “Essie’s so kind to do this for me every so often.”
“Ain’t a more thoughtful cousin, jah?”
Sallie agreed. Then, remembering Marion and Gladys Zook’s invitation, she asked what Frannie thought of it. “They said they’ll pick me up.”
“Well, that’s a surprise! And how nice of them—wonder what made them think of you.” Frannie was studying Sallie, clearly amused. “You’ll have yourself a splendid time.”
Sallie considered her sister’s expression. “Please don’t get any ideas, all right?”
Frannie shook her head, zipping her lips. “I’ll keep it mum.”
“What for, when there’s nothin’ to keep mum ’bout?”
“If you say so.”
“Nee, I’m serious.”
Frannie frowned. “So you’re sure it has nothing to do with Marion and Gladys bein’ Perry’s sisters?”
Sallie assured her it didn’t. “They didn’t say a word ’bout him.”
As Sallie put the last of the plates back in the cupboard, she thought of telling Frannie about the Logans’ offer but decided against it for the time being, not wanting a repeat of her mother’s displeasure. “I wonder how Aaron’s doing. Have you heard anything more?” Sallie said instead.
“I haven’t, but Essie might’ve.”
“Guess I really should go over there this morning.”
“All right, Schweschder,” Frannie said with a sweet tenderness that seemed not to mind the fact that Sallie was eager to leave to spend some time with someone else. “I’ll see ya when you’re back.”
Maybe I should also ask Essie about moving in up there. . . .
But as Sallie swung the basket to and fro while walking up Essie’s pretty lane, she decided she would not ask to live with Essie when her parents moved to the Dawdi Haus—not yet, when she might be gone for most of the summer. How she longed to see the tide coming in and out, or the frothy waves when the sea was all stirred up during a storm. It was hard to imagine something so enormous. Yet Essie says God holds the world in the palm of His almighty hand.
Sallie loved hearing Essie talk about creation . . . and their loving Creator. The remarkable woman was one of a kind, keenly aware of things that were unseen while living in a very visible world. “You should write a book,” Sallie had said not long ago, when she was helping Essie fertilize the Jenny Lind melons in her larger greenhouse.
Essie had looked quite startled. “Why would I want to sit still long enough to put pen to paper?” she’d insisted. “Nee, I’d rather be taking care of my flowers and talking to the One who made them.”
Sallie had smiled at that and agreed that Essie was probably right. Book writing was for folk who were compelled to get their ideas down on paper. Essie, on the other hand, had an easy way of sharing her insights aloud, the words just landing in your heart.
“Denki, by the way, for the devotional,” Sallie said when she arrived to return the supper basket. “I read from it already this mornin’.”
Essie’s face brightened. “I’ve got one just like it, and it seemed like the sort of book you’d enjoy, too.”
Sallie nodded, holding back the biggest news of all.
“Feel free to tell me what’s on your mind, dear.”
Sallie helped Essie cut lines across one of two pans of brownies she’d baked yesterday. “Frannie and I were talking about little Aaron this morning. How are things going?”
“Barbie Ann says she and Vernon will talk to his doctor tomorrow about the recommended tests. Those should be scheduled right away now that they have the funds. Once they have the results, they’ll know whether surgery is the only option, like has been suggested.”
Sallie wrapped each individual brownie and placed them in Essie’s quilted carrier for later, when Essie went visiting that afternoon. “I can’t wait till Aaron is on the mend again. This must be a little scary for him . . . all these doctor visits and whatnot.”
“There’s a lot to pray about, that’s for certain,” Essie said, running water into the pans.
They soon went to sit at the table. Then, curious to know what Essie might say, Sallie brought up the fact that Perry Zook’s unmarried sisters, Marion and Gladys, had unexpectedly invited her for ice cream. “It’s kind of odd, when we’ve never hung out before.”
Smiling, Essie said, “Not so surprising, if ya ponder it. They know a gut sister-in-law possibility when they see one.”
Sallie shook her head. “But Perry and I haven’t even gone out, really—not alone.” Then she remembered his seeming interest in her yesterday. Could it be that Frannie is right? “Or . . . Perry might’ve put them up to it.”
“There’s always that.” Essie adjusted the sugar bowl absently and looked at her. “And how would you feel ’bout it if he did?”
It came to Sallie’s mind that perhaps Perry had heard of her plans to join church this fall. Maybe he thinks I’ll be interested in courting, she thought. “To be honest, after seein’ him at market, I’m not sure what to think.”
Essie seemed to consider this, glancing at the ceiling for a bit. Then she said gently, “You’ll know in time.”
“Considering how nice he is, I should be flattered.” Sallie rose, and they wandered out to the cheery side porch. They stood there overlooking Dat’s barnyard and the three-story farmhouse where Sallie and her siblings were born, where Allen and Kate and their boys, four-year-old Allen Junior, or Buddy Al, and his fifteen-month-old brother, James, would soon be living.
“There’s somethin’ else,” Sallie said, knowing she shouldn’t put it off any longer. She probably should have brought this up before getting sidetracked with Perry and his sisters, considering a nanny job would likely throw a wrench into everything. Ach, so much is up in the air.
“I’m here.” Essie reached down for her apron hem to fan her face, the same way Sallie sometimes did on a hot day.
Sallie drew in a steadying breath before forging ahead. “I’ve been asked to work as a summer nanny for a family I met at the restaurant. The Logans have a home near the ocean.”
“Englischers, are they?” Essie asked, giving her a sideways glance.
“Jah, but Christians. Lyman Sullivan, my boss, has known Len Logan since college.”
Another moment or two passed, and Sallie could only imagine the thoughts Essie must be having.
At last, Essie stated, “It must seem like an answer to your hopes and dreams, what with the loss of your big trip.”
Sallie smiled hesitantly. “I honestly don’t know how you make everything seem so clear. Like it’s a heaven-sent opportunity.”
“Well, just consider the timing.” Essie continued, “Might just be the Lord’s way of giving back to you. He knows just what ya need. Why not pray ’bout it?”
Staring at the lemon yellow daylilies and hearty gaillardia and other early perennials blooming profusely along the side of the nearest greenhouse, Sallie was glad she’d come to talk with Cousin Essie. She always sets my heart at ease.
8
I take it you told Cousin Essie about the nanny job,” Mamm said nearly the minute Sallie walked up the back steps. Her mother was sitting there with her Biewel in her lap, the skin around her eyes all pink and puffy. When Mamm spread her palm flat against the page, Sallie noticed she’d chewed her fingernails.
“I did mention it.”
“And is she all for it?” Mamm closed the Good Book gently, her expression guarded.
Sallie paused, not wanting to ruffle her mother’s feathers. “We talked about a lot o
f things, actually.”
The midmorning sun beat a broad swath of light at the end of the porch where Mamm sat, but a welcoming breeze cooled the back of Sallie’s neck where she stood, leaning against the railing.
“To be frank, your father thinks you’re too young to be gone so long,” Mamm said, admitting she’d talked to Dat at length that morning. “I tend to agree with him. ’Specially since the Logan family ain’t Plain.”
Sallie looked out toward the road. “Are ya sayin’ you can’t give me your consent?”
Mamm took a moment before answering. “I’m sayin’ ya best be talkin’ to your Dat.”
“This opportunity still seems providential to me.” She paused. “And I’m nearly twenty, Mamm.”
Her mother sighed. “Still another half year till your next birthday.”
A number of arguments came to mind, but Sallie wasn’t going to push this now, not on the Lord’s Day. It could wait till tomorrow, but it couldn’t wait much longer than that. The Logans deserved to know as soon as possible.
Her mother continued. “Frannie might have somethin’ to say ’bout it, too, what with the extra work falling on her shoulders.”
“True,” Sallie said, inwardly chiding herself for not considering that. “Haven’t told her just yet.”
“Best be talkin’ to her, too—you don’t wanna shirk your duties here.” Mamm opened her Bible again as if to pick up where she left off.
Sallie excused herself and went indoors. It was next to impossible to give up such a wonderful-gut opportunity. Just thinking of declining gave her a dull headache. Frannie’s sure to make a fuss, she thought. But for different reasons.
In the front room, she found her sister writing a letter. “Are there plans to go visiting today, do ya know?”
Frannie looked up, her pen poised in midair. “Haven’t heard. Why?”
“I’d really like to take a walk with you, if you can get away,” Sallie said. “Kumm mit.”
“Sure, I’ll go.” Frannie set her letter and pen aside, and they slipped out the back door to the porch, where Frannie told Mamm where they were headed.
“We might drop by and visit Dawdi Riehl,” Sallie said quickly.
Mamm nodded. “It’ll do him a world of gut.” She looked right at Sallie and gave her a gentle smile. “Nice of you.”
It was some consolation, if only for that brief moment. Sallie tried to resist the guilt still hanging over her head at her mother’s earlier words. And it isn’t fair to make Frannie pick up all the pieces while I’m gone.
Then she thought ahead to her sister’s coming marriage, when the shoe would be on the other foot. Though maybe things will even out some.
Once they were out on the road, heading in the direction of Uncle Rudy’s farm, where Dawdi Riehl resided in an attached house, Sallie wasted no time telling Frannie about the Logans’ summer invitation. “Dat and Mamm aren’t happy ’bout this, ’specially because I wouldn’t be able to join church yet again this fall.” Sallie knew that had to be the crux of her parents’ concern. “Guess they talked it over this morning while I was up at Essie’s.”
“How long would ya be gone?”
Sallie told her.
Frannie was silent a moment, then leaned down to pick a bright yellow dandelion from the grass along the roadside. “Ain’t surprised this worries Dat and Mamm,” she said. “After all, you’d be livin’ with these people.”
“I’d really like to go, but it sure seems like an uphill battle.”
“So you’re still determined, then?”
“Not without Dat and Mamm’s say-so.”
Frannie reached for her hand. “I understand why you’d think being near the ocean sounds appealing. But . . . it was going to be our last summer together.”
“Ach, Frannie. I know.”
They walked hand in hand for a ways like they always had as children, and sometimes now, too, when one of them wanted to comfort the other.
Then, hearing a horse and carriage coming up behind them, Frannie turned to look. “Goodness, it’s Perry Zook. Wonder what brings him this way.”
Sallie wished they’d waited a while longer to go walking.
“He’s slowing down,” Frannie whispered.
“Oh dear.”
Now Perry was calling to them. “I’m goin’ your way, and there’s plenty of room, if yous want a lift.”
Sallie turned to take in the sight of a sunburnt Perry sitting there in his black courting carriage and wearing his nicest for-good clothes—black trousers and vest, his crisp white shirt buttoned up to the throat.
“We’ll ride with ya, sure,” Frannie replied, surprising Sallie.
Frannie climbed up first and sat next to Perry, leaving Sallie to squeeze in between her and the end of the bench in the fine buggy. The modest dashboard adorned solely with a speedometer and a clock was unlike those of some of the young men in their district who’d installed CD players, air horns, plastic reflectors, and even wall-to-wall carpeting.
Glancing down, Sallie noticed a book tucked under the dashboard and, curious, she reached for it, turning it so she could see the title. Hummingbirds of North America.
Perry nodded toward the book in her hands. “My young cousin has me goin’ to the library every so often,” he admitted. “I take him and he checks out the books on his own card, mind you.”
“Which cousin is this?” Frannie asked, shooting a mischievous look Sallie’s way.
“Harvey Zook—lives but a few farms over from us. Seems he’s caught a love for reading this school year. Teacher thinks he’s already reading at a higher level than his older brother, who just finished third grade. Imagine that.”
“Verschtaunlich,” Frannie said, her eyes twinkling at Sallie. “Do you read along with him, too?”
“Well, sure. He’s a nice kid.”
Frannie gave Sallie a nudge, but Sallie chose to ignore it. It was kind of Perry to take his little cousin to the library, but that didn’t mean she and Perry were meant for each other.
For pity’s sake, thought Sallie, wishing her sister would settle down.
During the long walk home from Dawdi Riehl’s, Frannie asked, “Wouldn’t it be worth stayin’ home this summer for Perry, at least?”
Sallie was aware of her sister’s eagerness for her to find a beau, especially one as well liked as Perry, but that didn’t soften how torn Sallie felt just now, knowing what she so desperately wanted to do this summer and what she knew she ought to seriously contemplate. There was simply no middle ground.
“Perry’s wunnerbaar, for certain.”
“But?”
“I never dreamed I’d have the chance to spend time by an ocean after all. Not sure I want to give that up again.”
Frannie looked away. “If ya won’t stay home for baptismal instruction or for a fella . . . what about doin’ it for me?”
Sallie sighed, feeling all tied up in knots. She loved spending time with her sister, but the lure of a summer in Cape May was strong.
“Well, Dat hasn’t even said I can go yet. No need to fret,” Sallie said, hoping with everything in her that their father might see the reasonableness of her request.
9
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Sallie climbed into the spring wagon with Marion Zook at the reins and her sister Gladys grinning next to her. “The storm clouds seem to be movin’ away from us,” she said, making small talk.
“Des gut,” Marion replied, looking pretty in her cherry-colored dress and matching apron. “Even so, we brought along two big umbrellas.”
“So far it’s the perfect night for ice cream,” Gladys said, moving to make room for Sallie.
Marion clicked her tongue to signal the horse forward. “What’s Frannie doin’ tonight?”
“Out with her beau,” Sallie said. “Say, I heard there’s a farm sale comin’ up next week over on Paradise Lane. Know anything ’bout it?”
“Jah. A Mennonite family’s movin’ to upstate New York,” Glad
ys volunteered. “One of their sons has been teachin’ Perry how to be an auctioneer, actually.”
Since when? wondered Sallie, hoping her surprise didn’t show.
“Perry’s already assisted him at a few farm sales and whatnot in Maryland—and in Oakland and Mechanicsburg, too,” Gladys added.
“That’s interesting,” Sallie said, wondering what else she didn’t know about Perry. Deciding to test the waters, she dipped in her toe. “I noticed Perry was fillin’ in for your mother at market this week. Was she ill?”
“Nee. Mamma went to Flemington, New Jersey, for the day with one of her cousins who makes Buffalo chicken pretzel wraps. Sells them at the Dutch Country Farmers Market there.”
“Is that anywhere near the shore?” Sallie asked before thinking.
“Less than an hour away,” Marion said. “Perry asked Mamma the same question, in fact. He’s been talkin’ of scoping out the place next weekend—wants to sell a bunch of his gourd birdhouses.”
“He shouldn’t have any trouble sellin’ those. They’re well made and look real nice,” Sallie said.
“You may already know that the merchants at that market are practically all Lancaster County folk,” Gladys mentioned. “They get up around three in the morning and a driver takes them over to Flemington. Some do it Thursday through Saturday. Amazing, jah?”
Sallie couldn’t fathom getting up quite that early, but many Amish had run out of farmland, so such marketplaces were essential sources of income.
There was more talk of the pretzel and ice cream stand at the New Jersey farmers market, and Gladys laughed, saying, “The three of us should go along with Perry and have a look-see . . . make a day of it sometime.”
“Maybe go out to see the ocean, too.” Marion seemed to like the idea, nodding her head in approval. “What would ya say, Sallie?”
“Well, I’m usually scheduled to work Saturdays—it’s real hectic at the restaurant. Everyone wants to enjoy the weekend.”
“Is there ice cream on that menu?” Gladys teased.
“Oh, definitely, and homemade, too.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a restaurant without it, ain’t?” Gladys burst into laughter.
The Ebb Tide Page 5