“Sorry, Mommy. I was just surprised.” She smiled at Sallie apologetically. “I always have lots of questions.”
Inquisitive, like me, thought Sallie fondly as the rural landscape zipped past.
The nearly three-hour drive seemed to pass quickly as the sights changed from farmland to city, then to coastal terrain as they neared Cape May. All the while, Autumn talked to Sallie or played educational games on what she called an iPad as baby Connor slept peacefully—a rarity, according to Monique.
Several times, Autumn showed Sallie what progress she was making on her game, but although Sallie liked being included, she couldn’t make sense of it. Autumn didn’t seem to mind, however.
Monique announced they were approaching one of the bridges that crossed the canal waterway linking the Delaware Bay with the Atlantic Ocean, and Sallie sat up a bit to peer out the window. “You’ll notice Cape May has many well-preserved Victorian buildings—so many that it’s been declared a National Historic Landmark,” Monique informed her. “Just a quick history lesson.”
“It’s so perty!” Sallie exclaimed, looking down at the fishing boats when they exited the bridge and passed the Lobster House.
“It’s small-town America at its best—trees lining the streets, front porches with wicker furniture, and houses with gingerbread trim,” Monique said. “Like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.”
“There’s a cute trolley, too,” Autumn piped up.
Sallie caught her first glimpse of the ocean from the car window as they neared the Logans’ summer home. Her breath caught in her throat—oh, the immense reach of the sea, the blue-green hue of the waves with their frothy white tips. It was better than any photograph! She squinted and wondered how far it was to the horizon line.
“Daddy’s gonna take me out on the boat once we get unpacked,” Autumn informed her when they arrived at the three-story cedar-shake house. Sallie had never seen anything like its grand front porch with two white columns and wraparound upper-level balcony. “You should come with us.”
Sallie was surprised. “Well, it’s the weekend, so maybe your parents want to spend time with you and Connor out in the boat . . . just your family.”
“Oh, Mommy’s staying back with the baby, so it’ll be just Daddy and me.”
Autumn seemed to be pressing for a different schedule than Monique had initially described, but Sallie just followed Monique, who went inside to change Connor before situating him in an infant carrier that she wore. Autumn pointed out the in-ground pool behind their house, then led the way over a narrow paved walkway through some trees and past a small pond filled with colorful fish and overlooked by a pier-style deck. A separate guest cottage awaited there, a grapevine wreath with blue, white, and yellow daisies adorning its door.
Inside, Monique showed Sallie around the very pleasant one-bedroom dwelling, all of it dressed up in white beadboard and watery blues and greens. Along the sitting room wall, built-in shelves featured driftwood, starfish, blue and white pottery, and other nautical trinkets. In the minuscule kitchen, fresh green pears nestled in a soft aqua bowl in the center of a small round table.
“Feel free to unpack your things in the guest room dresser and closet. There’s a stacked washer and dryer just off the bathroom for your convenience—I can have Evie Cullen show you how to use them. She’s our housekeeper and occasional cook.”
Autumn pointed out that Evie had left groceries in the refrigerator. “You’ll like her. She’s nice . . . like you, Miss Sallie.” Autumn reached for one of the pears in the bowl on the table and offered it to her.
“How thoughtful to leave us a treat,” Sallie said. She couldn’t stop looking around at the attractive place.
“The pears are for you,” Autumn insisted.
Connor began to cry. Quickly, Monique showed Sallie how to use the intercom linked to the main house and encouraged her to feel free to use the phone, as well, before excusing herself to nurse the baby.
So many temptations, Sallie thought, having also noticed a flat-screen TV in the living area. Yet being a nanny for Englischers, I’m going to have to learn to use most of these things.
Meanwhile, Autumn went to the built-in shelves and removed a decorative bowl containing highly polished stones. “Here’s one of our collections of Cape May diamonds—they’re quartz crystals from the sea. Mommy and Daddy and I started looking for them together when I was just two,” she said. “It took us that long to find this many. Daddy found most of them, but I helped.”
“Just beautiful,” Sallie said, admiring them, the crystals ranging from pea-sized to two that were as large as an egg.
“Last summer, I found a tear-shaped one at Sunset Beach,” Autumn said, sifting through her pretty stones. “Miss Evie told me that, in heaven, the angels cry over orphaned children, and sometimes their tears fall onto the Cape May beaches. I know it’s probably not true, but I like to pretend it is.”
Sallie found the story quite farfetched, but she thought the sentiment was sweet.
Autumn showed her a few more of her favorites. “Daddy says some are as big as a baseball. Can you imagine that? Those are really rare, though.”
Sallie enjoyed listening, taken by Autumn’s enthusiasm.
“Mommy found a book at our little library here. It said that long ago, back before the Pilgrims came, there were Native Americans who lived here—the Kechemeche tribe. They believed these pebbles brought luck and friendship.”
“For goodness’ sake!”
“Daddy says we don’t believe in luck, but I like the friendship part,” Autumn said. “Sometimes it takes years and years for beachcombers to find a single Cape May diamond.” She motioned for Sallie to go with her out to the small deck overlooking the fishpond. “At night, you can see the stars real clear from this spot. You should be real happy here, Miss Sallie.”
“I’m sure I will be,” Sallie said, smiling, “especially since I get to help take care of you.”
Autumn giggled. “Well, I should go see if Daddy’s around. Make yourself at home, as Mommy says.” She hopped down the steps toward the private path and was gone.
Sallie had to catch her breath, astonished that all of this was to be hers for the next months. As if in a daze, she carried her suitcase and purse back through the delightful little kitchen to the bedroom—marveling that even the linens and lamps reflected the coastal design.
“Frannie wouldn’t believe this,” she murmured, eager to write to her. “Though she might also worry about all the luxuries.”
Sallie opened her suitcase, remembering what Monique had said about using the empty drawers and the empty closet, too. I best be careful not to get used to such fancy lodging. The word worldly crossed her mind. Even so, Sallie wished she had a camera to snap a few photos to send home.
She caught her reflection in the large freestanding mirror opposite the bed and thought she must look entirely out of place in this lovely, well-decorated guest cottage, where seabirds called through the open windows. Sallie heard something else, too—the not-so-distant sound of the waves.
An ocean paradise, for sure, she thought, eager to walk along the beach at sunset. And remembering Autumn’s enthusiasm for the smooth pebbles she referred to as diamonds, Sallie thought it would be fun to search the shoreline, too.
How long will it take me to find one?
14
Despite Autumn’s hopes, Monique stuck to the previously stated plan for the weekend, freeing Sallie of nanny responsibilities as she settled in. So she took her time unpacking at the quiet cottage, taking care to hang up her dresses and cape aprons. Stepping back, she looked at them, then glanced in the nearby full-length mirror and wondered how on earth she would escape notice walking the beach in her Amish attire. “Amidst sunbathers an’ all,” she murmured, not having pondered this before now.
It was strange to realize that she might be the only Plain person for miles around. Yet none of the Logans seemed to mind—they hadn’t made a peep about he
r traditional Old Order attire. Sallie had brought along a modest terry cloth cover-up and a wide-brimmed woven straw hat, which her sister Laura had picked up for her at a flea market before Sallie left. I’ll definitely need it.
She used three vacant dresser drawers to put away her personal effects. Her tan sandals went in the closet, next to her pair of flip-flops, both for walking on the hot sand—at Cousin Essie’s suggestion.
A knock came at the front door, where Monique stood, her strawberry-blond hair shimmering against the sunlight.
“Sorry I had to rush off, Sallie. Are you comfortable here?”
“Oh, I’ve never stayed in such a lovely place. Denki so much.”
“Is there anything you can’t find or might need?”
Sallie assured her she was positively pleased with everything, including the fruit, snacks, and juices neatly organized in the refrigerator. “I did wonder if I might possibly borrow a camera to take some pictures to send home to my family.”
Monique mentioned Autumn had a small digital camera with a leather pouch.
“I’d really appreciate using it, if ya don’t think she’d mind.”
Monique nodded toward the main house. “She’ll be glad to let you use it. Also, we’d like you to join us for a late lunch in a little while. You can meet Evie then, since she’s working today. By the way, Evie will change and launder your sheets and linen once a week and do a good cleaning, too.”
“No need, really. I’m happy to pick up after myself.” Such a change from back home! she thought.
Monique shook her head. “It’s Evie’s job to clean for us, so just enjoy, okay?”
“Well, please remember that I’m glad to help out with anything at all.”
Thanking her, Monique smiled. “I think you’ll be very busy with Autumn.” She went on to say, “Evie’s looking forward to meeting you. She’s been to Lancaster County Amish country a number of times.”
“Oh?”
“Says she enjoys shopping at Central Market and out at Roots Country Market whenever she’s there. She recently took a walking tour of downtown Lancaster’s historic churches.”
“I wonder if she’s ever taken one of Abe’s buggy-riding tours through Bird-in-Hand,” Sallie said, knowing how cordial Abe and his drivers were to tourists.
“You’ll have to ask her.”
“Does Evie live in Cape May?”
“All her life, in fact.” Monique leaned against the doorframe, putting one hand on her hip. “She’s vowed never to leave. Her husband grew up here, too.”
“From what I saw comin’ into town, I can understand why someone would say that.”
“Autumn has some favorite spots she’s eager to show you.”
“I can scarcely wait,” Sallie said, going with Monique to the main house, where two bay windows looked out at the ground level.
“Don’t rush yourself today—just get your bearings,” Monique told her. “Of course, you’re welcome to have supper with us tomorrow. You may also join us for worship, if you’d like.”
Sallie glanced down at her long blue dress and apron. “Is there an Amish church district round here, do ya know?”
“Not that I know of. But there is a Mennonite church in the neighborhood, if that’s of interest.”
Sallie considered that but decided she would simply read her Biewel and pray on her own till she returned home, as most Amish did when traveling. “Denki anyway.”
“If you change your mind, let us know.” Monique paused. “And really, you’d be very welcome at the little community church we attend in the summertime.”
“Kind of you.”
“Of course it goes without saying that Autumn would be tickled to have you along, too.”
They stepped inside a screened-in all-white veranda, where a rectangular wooden table was set for the meal. It reminded Sallie a little of Cousin Essie’s sleeping porch. The inviting space was done up in the same soft blue seafaring décor of the guest cottage.
Len welcomed Sallie to their home as baby Connor slept nearby in a Pack ’n Play. He introduced Evie Cullen, who served a hearty chicken salad over romaine lettuce, accompanied by freshly baked croissants, the latter rivaling Sallie’s mother’s own.
Sallie mentioned this to Evie later, when the sprightly woman, possibly in her early forties, returned to the dining area with pie for dessert. “Made with fresh cherries from Duckies Farm Market,” Evie said, seemingly for Sallie’s benefit.
“Well, it’s just as delicious as the croissants,” Sallie said after taking her first bite. “One of the best I’ve tasted.”
Autumn beamed and scooted her chair closer to her mother as Evie thanked Sallie.
Monique slipped her arm around Autumn and made small talk, bringing up Abe’s Buggy Rides. But Evie said she hadn’t been on any. “Not yet,” she said with a soft laugh.
“I’ll give ya one,” Sallie offered. “Next time you’re in Lancaster County. Have you ever been through Paradise Township? That’s where I’m from.”
“I’ve seen the road sign for Paradise Lane but never turned off.” Evie explained that she had close friends who lived in the historic district on Strasburg’s Main Street, not far from Center Square and the Strasburg Country Store.
“Do ya, now?” Sallie was delighted.
“Yes, and my friends know the owner of the creamery there quite well. In fact, my friend’s husband set up and maintains their website.”
“Well, ain’t . . . er, isn’t that somethin’! What a small world.”
Evie asked if there was anything more she could bring them from the kitchen.
“Lunch was wonderful,” Len said, thanking her and grinning as he glanced Monique’s way. “Thanks for coming in today, Evie.”
“My pleasure.” Evie stepped back into the house.
After dessert, Autumn showed Sallie how to use her digital camera. Sallie particularly liked the delete feature, since she was sure she’d have some fumbles, not having used such a camera before. Amazing!
Before Len and Autumn left for the boat dock, Len opened his wallet and handed three ten-dollar bills to Sallie, explaining that she would need a seasonal beach tag for access to the Cape May beaches during prime hours. He also gave her directions and a small map. “You’ll see the Victorian inns along Beach Avenue, and the city beaches are only a block away from there.”
On her walk, Sallie enjoyed seeing the variety of architectural styles—newly built homes, some brick, others clapboard, and the ornate historic homes Len had mentioned. Once at the beach entrance, the tanned and friendly patrol crew seemed unfazed by her appearance. There must be other vacationing Plain folk round here, she thought as she purchased her beach tag, eyeing the ocean.
I’ll just stay a short while, she thought, eager to explore all day tomorrow.
15
Sunday morning, Sallie rose early to see the sunrise over the ocean, determined to witness in person what she had seen pictured in books. She wore her everyday plum-colored dress and matching apron, but it seemed strange not to put on her best blue dress and white organdy apron and Kapp for church.
She prayed as she walked barefoot in the soft sand near the dim shoreline, then held her breath, marveling at the golden-pink glow of the sky that heralded the sun’s appearance. And soon, the golden-orange globe boldly burst over the eastern horizon.
“Heavenly Father,” she started, praying one of the prayers from Die Christenpflicht. “Preserve the light of faith in our hearts, multiply and strengthen it. Awaken Thy love in us, confirm our hope, and give us true humility so we may walk in the footsteps of Jesus.”
When it was light enough to see the footprints in the sand around her—so many already—she thought about how she might follow the Lord’s footsteps in all of her choices this day . . . and this particular summer. And beyond, she thought, though she didn’t wish to contemplate her future at the moment. Not on this fresh, new day in a wonderful place filled with the squawks of seabirds and the sound of
pounding waves. The taste of salt was on her lips. Truly, the ocean was even more awe-inspiring than she’d expected.
Sallie loved feeling so at peace with the breathtaking surroundings, and despite the grandeur, was filled with a sense of how much her heavenly Father cared for her. Not a single ounce of her missed the Amish countryside this Lord’s Day morning. Sallie was living a dream. My dream.
But she did miss the gathering together of people of like faith and could easily picture Frannie scurrying about to help Mamm with breakfast dishes and getting dressed for Preaching.
Sallie continued walking north, until she realized how far she’d gone. Turning back, she kept an eye out for the distinctive landmarks she’d purposely memorized—the narrow path bordered with wild white roses and pale yellow honeysuckle, for one. I certainly don’t want to get lost my first morning out, she thought.
Compelled by the sight of the sea, she stopped and simply stared at the rising and falling water, observing several young swimmers head out toward a gentle wave that swelled suddenly to tower high over them. Would they dive beneath and emerge on the other side?
Sallie pondered what she would do if she felt at ease enough to swim so far out, but knew she would be cautious. After all, this was the ocean and not some country swimming hole. She observed the confident swimmers as they came out the other side of the wave, their arms straight and strong as they moved toward the next rising wave.
Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed the blond lifeguard leaning forward to watch. Unlike the swimmers, however, the lifeguard wore some sort of shirt over her swimsuit, which made her one of the more modestly clad people on the beach.
Sallie began to walk again as the sun soared, dazzling the water. Like brilliant diamonds.
At that thought, Sallie wondered when she and Autumn might go looking for the pretty pebbles the little girl seemed to be so fond of. Sallie hadn’t yet seen the schedule for her young charge for the coming week, but from what she knew of Monique, it would be well planned.
Hot as it was that afternoon, Sallie returned to the air-conditioned cottage, where she spent time reading, then later went walking along the shoreline again, aware of the falling tide—what Autumn said was a good time to look for the pure quartz crystals, still wet and easily spotted. A few beachcombers gawked at her Amish attire, but most were bent over and staring at the sand. Others squatted and ran their hands over the damp surface.
The Ebb Tide Page 8