“Look for the ones with no colored streaks or cracks,” a man was telling his little girl as they searched just ahead of Sallie.
Sallie kept at it, glad she was accustomed to leaning over for long periods of time to hoe Mamm’s vegetable garden. In comparison, this was easy. She did wonder what Frannie or Laura might think of her spending so long out on the beach just to search for a stone. Cousin Essie would understand, though, because she had a collection of old quarters that were put away for the most part, in a fabric drawstring bag in the third drawer of her bureau. When Sallie visited as a younger girl, Essie would take them out and let her look at the dates with a magnifying glass, just for fun.
Seeing something sparkle in the sand at that moment, Sallie reached for it, only to discover a broken piece from a bracelet or necklace. Just debris.
That evening, following supper with the Logans, Sallie showed Autumn the pictures she’d taken on the camera, and after she chose the ones she wanted printed, Autumn hurried upstairs to her father’s home office.
Len and Monique lingered at the table, and Sallie asked to hold little Connor, realizing that in a few short months, her next little niece or nephew would be born. She took him from Monique, cradling him. And then if he didn’t look right up at her and smile, seeming fairly content at the moment.
When Autumn returned with the printed photos, she beckoned Sallie into the living area adjacent to the spacious dining alcove, where they sat down on the sofa. A majestic framed painting of the brilliant white Cape May Lighthouse hung over the fireplace.
“Just look how tiny Connor’s fingers are,” Sallie murmured to Autumn, touching the baby’s wee hand. “Someday, when he’s your age, his hands will be your size now, or larger . . . though by then, you’ll be graduating from high school.”
Autumn looked stunned. “Wow . . . never thought of that.”
“Do ya like to hold Connor sometimes?” she asked.
“I held him twice when he was brand-new, all wrapped up tight in his blanket,” Autumn replied. “He wiggles a lot.” She made a face.
“He’s peaceful right now—ain’t wiggling a speck.”
“But he burps and spits up . . . and makes sounds in his diapers.” Autumn inched back a little. “It’s gross.”
“Babies wiggle ’cause they’re constantly growing . . . and, well, they fill their britches after their tummies are full,” Sallie explained.
Autumn scrunched up her nose.
“You and I were once this little, too.” The warm weight of Connor’s little body in her arms made Sallie wish Autumn might see how wonderful an addition he was to her family.
Autumn shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
Connor broke into a smile, his unsteady hand swaying toward his sister, as if trying to grab her.
“Look!” Sallie whispered. “He wants to hold your hand.”
“No thanks.” Autumn shook her head and looked away. “Not now.”
Later, after returning to the guest cottage for the night, the ocean pictures she’d taken in hand, Sallie recalled Autumn’s resistance to her brother and her occasionally glum face—at times, the girl seemed to be deep in thought. Had her parents noticed? How can I help Autumn understand that mothers have more than enough love to go around for all their children?
Sallie’s own eldest brother, Adam, hadn’t had Mamm all to himself for very long—just sixteen months—when his first sibling, Daniel, was born.
Sallie was determined to try to make up for Monique’s time with the new baby. If only I knew how to help Autumn get past this.
16
Monday morning, at the Logans’ airy home, Sallie got Autumn up and ready for the day. While making pancakes and bacon, Sallie asked Autumn to decide between a number of activities. Sallie was all for it when Autumn said, “Let’s go to the beach!”
Autumn reached for her hand as they left the house, both of them carrying beach totes as they headed on foot to the nearest city beach.
Sallie had worn her skirted bathing suit beneath her dress in case she decided to get in the water with Autumn. Monique had told her which beaches had lifeguards on duty beginning at ten o’clock, as well as where the comfort stations were located on the promenade, a paved boardwalk of sorts.
“Mommy and I always rent an umbrella,” Autumn told Sallie, looking cute in her black and pink polka-dot cover-up and white sun hat as they made their way to the beach entrance and showed their seasonal tags.
“Makes gut sense,” Sallie said, grateful for sunscreen and thick beach towels, as well as the money Monique had given them for hot dogs and ice cream cones later.
“We could build a sand castle until the lifeguards come. I’ll show you how, Miss Sallie, okay?”
Another adventure! Sallie thought as they stopped at the umbrella rentals, where the friendly clerk tried to rent them beach chairs, too.
“I call Mr. Jason the umbrella man,” Autumn remarked as they walked away with an umbrella. “Mommy and I like to talk to him when we come to the beach. He knows my daddy, too.”
Since the tide was going out, they found a nice spot not too far from the water.
Once again, a few swimsuit-clad folk looked surprised at Sallie’s outfit, but most were intent on soaking up the morning sun, though they were already plenty tan.
Autumn helped lay out the beach towels just so, then removed her pail and shovel from the larger of the two beach totes. She began to use them quite effectively, carrying water from the ocean in her pail to wet down some of the sand, then making pail-shaped forms for her castle.
Sallie sat on her blue-and-green-striped beach towel and sank her toes into the warm sand, enjoying Autumn’s instructions on how to build a sand castle, marveling at the girl’s expressive vocabulary.
Soon, though, Autumn’s near-constant chatter turned to talk of how she and her mother used to do this or that. “But Mommy’s busy with Connor now.”
“He won’t be this little for long, remember,” Sallie said.
“Did you know Mommy picked out Connor’s name?” Autumn pressed her pail over the top of the squishy, wet sand and then flipped the bucket over, molding the rough side with her hands. “She had a big list of names . . . couldn’t decide on one till he was born.”
“Maybe your brother’s named after someone else in your family.”
Autumn shrugged. “Not that I know of.” She filled her pail with more sand, mounding it beside the last pile.
Thankfully, the next hour was filled with giggles and laughter as they took turns embellishing their beachfront castle.
Eventually, they declared it complete and ready for occupancy. Autumn hugged Sallie’s neck. “You’re the best sand castle–building partner ever.”
Sallie chuckled as she accepted Autumn’s high five. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without ya. You’re a very gut teacher.”
The moment Autumn spotted the female lifeguard arriving, she took off her sun hat and began to unzip her cover-up. “Time to swim!” she announced, casting aside her red sunglasses, as well.
“Wait for me.” Discreetly as possible, Sallie removed her plum-colored dress and matching apron and folded them neatly on the beach towel.
The cool water felt just wonderful on her bare feet. Sallie delighted in it as she and Autumn walked along the surf for a while before inching farther in. Soon, though, Autumn flopped right in with a splash.
According to Monique, Autumn was a strong and confident swimmer for her age and knew to stay relatively close to the shore. Sallie, too, was content to stay amongst the smaller waves, enjoying the spray of mist on her face. In the near distance, seabirds dipped and dove gracefully, pleasantly noisy, while Autumn continued her own stream of chatter, pointing out everything from the nearby pier to how high the waves were today.
“Guess what?” she said. “Miss Evie’s making strawberry shortcake for supper.”
“Does she cook for you every day?” Sallie asked as Autumn bobbed nearby.
�
��Three or four times a week, usually.”
So convenient, Sallie thought.
“Daddy picks up take-out on Sundays after church, since Connor isn’t ready for restaurants. Or if we go to the beach or out on the boat, we pack a picnic lunch. We do that on the Fourth of July, too. The fireworks are so pretty over the ocean,” Autumn explained, dodging a splashing swimmer. “But that was before the baby was born.”
“Even if the Fourth is different for you this summer, I’m sure your parents will have something fun planned,” Sallie reassured her.
Autumn jumped up out of the water, took a deep breath, and disappeared before quickly re-emerging, wiping off her face. “I’m learning to hold my breath under water. Daddy wants me to be able to swim better.”
Sallie told her about the swimming lessons she’d had as a child. “At my uncle’s pond, mostly.”
“Did your father teach you?”
Sallie nodded. “I also learned from my big brothers, ’specially Adam.”
Autumn turned over in the water, floating on her back and still chattering. “Can you float like this, Miss Sallie?”
“Jah,” Sallie said, smiling and mimicking her, shivering with the joy of being there, and whispering a prayer of thanks. I’m having the time of my life!
When it was time to get out and dry off, Autumn did not whine or complain as some children were doing around them. She quietly followed Sallie back to shore to their blue-and-white-striped umbrella and colorful beach towels.
Sallie kept the towel over her shoulders for modesty’s sake. By now, there were many more people—and rows and rows of beach chairs and brightly colored umbrellas. She’d never witnessed such a sight.
“It’s never this crowded in September when we come,” Autumn said, seeming to guess what Sallie was thinking. “After school starts, there’s hardly anyone.”
Sallie glanced at the lifeguard, deeply tanned and sitting so tall and straight in the white wooden stand. “Must be a real chore keepin’ track of all the swimmers.”
“Oh, that’s Bethany up there. She’s real good at it.”
“You know her?”
“I like to meet people.” Autumn draped the towel around her neck. “I know a lot of the lifeguards, actually. Mommy says I’m not afraid to make friends.”
“But only when you’re with your parents, right?”
Autumn looked up at her. “You mean stranger danger?”
Sallie hadn’t heard it put quite that way. “Best to be safe.”
“Mommy always says that, too. You know, Miss Sallie, I think you and Mommy are a lot alike that way. Maybe that’s why you’re my nanny.”
Sallie smiled and gave Autumn a hug. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad!”
At the hot dog stand, Autumn asked the girl at the order window for extra toothpicks and ketchup packets, as well as relish. Then, when they found their way back to their beach towels under the umbrella, Autumn began to open the packets one after another, squeezing the contents onto her hot dog bun.
“Watch this.” Autumn began using the toothpicks and empty packets to make little flags for atop the castle.
“Aren’t you clever,” Sallie said.
Autumn brightened. “I like to make things.” She added that she liked to draw, too, especially when she was here in Cape May. “Daddy bought me a portfolio, like a real artist has,” Autumn said. “I’ll show you sometime.”
Sallie enthusiastically nodded as Autumn stepped back and eyed the castle from several different angles. “What should we call it?” Her brown eyes sparkled with mischief. “How do you say castle in Amish?”
“In Deitsch?”
Autumn clapped her hands, her ponytail bouncing. “Yes.”
“Well, there’s really no word for a castle, but it is a big house, jah?”
“Jah.” Autumn was giggling.
“So then, it would be Gross Haus.”
“Gross, but still pretty?”
Now Sallie had to laugh.
When Autumn finally settled down on her towel, Sallie asked if she’d like to say the blessing for the food.
Autumn was quick to agree. Her prayer was rambling as she gave thanks for many things and various people, including her parents and both sets of grandparents, but not her baby brother. She concluded her prayer with “And God bless my wonderful nanny, Miss Sallie. Amen.”
“Denki.” Sallie caught herself. “Ach, thank you.”
“I knew that.” Autumn giggled and leaned her head against Sallie’s shoulder for a second. “Guess what?” she said, looking up at her.
“What, sweetie?”
“I’m real happy you’re here.”
Heartened, Sallie said, “I’m thrilled to be here, too.”
It was one of those moments, so pleasant and peaceful, Sallie knew she was unlikely to ever forget.
17
That evening, following a delicious meal of summer flounder prepared on the outside grill—the fresh catch of the day—Evie served strawberry shortcake with real whipped cream. Just like back on the farm, Sallie thought, wondering at that moment what Mamm might be serving for dessert. Probably something with strawberries, too.
When Monique later excused herself to nurse Connor, Sallie lingered at the rectangular teakwood dining table with Autumn.
“What would ya like to do tomorrow?” Sallie asked, relaxing in the wood and rattan chair, taking in the framed family pictures on the sofa table visible from the dining alcove.
Autumn twisted her long ponytail and stared at the white beamed ceiling. “Whatever Mommy says.” She sounded uncharacteristically young just then. “She knows what I like best.”
“Well, what if we surprised her and helped Evie redd up—I mean clean up—the dishes?”
Autumn glanced toward the kitchen, as if the idea had never occurred to her. She shrugged. “Okay.”
Once the kitchen was put back in order, Monique returned with Connor nestled close in her arms, and she and Sallie sat and talked awhile.
Monique thanked them both for the extra help. “If Autumn prefers to stay around the house a few days a week, or spend time with you at the cottage, that’s fine, too. Also, Jim and Annelle Lowery, our neighbors two doors down, arrive tomorrow. Their granddaughter Rhiannon often comes with them and likes to spend time with Autumn. They’re such great friends.”
“That’s gut to know.”
“If Rhiannon wants to go with you and Autumn occasionally, Jim and Annelle will insist on paying for your time, as well.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“They’ll insist . . . and so will I.” Monique had made her point. “Just know that it won’t happen often. And as soon as you’re more familiar with the area, I’ll leave it up to you to plan activities for Autumn,” Monique told her. “Are you comfortable with that?”
Sallie agreed wholeheartedly, ready to be a genuine nanny.
Sallie bathed and dressed Connor while Autumn kept her company later. When he was fussy again, Sallie bundled him and tried to give him a pacifier as she read a book of Autumn’s choosing to her. All this to give Monique some time to herself, as weary as she was.
When it was time to head for the guest cottage, Sallie overheard Autumn talking to her mother in the master bedroom, seemingly trying to delay Sallie’s departure.
“I want to show Miss Sallie my rock tumbler, Mommy.”
“She’s spent all day with you, honey, and you’re just now bringing this up?” Monique scolded a bit.
“It won’t take long. Please?”
“You may show her another time.” Monique stood firm.
Sallie knocked on the doorframe. “I’ll be sayin’ Gut Nacht. See ya tomorrow, Autumn.”
“Thanks for everything,” Monique said, looking up. “It was bliss to be able to lie down for a while.”
As if on cue, Connor began to cry again, and Autumn ran over to say good-bye to Sallie, looking so woebegone that Sallie almost expected the girl to follow her.
But, except for the birds’ refrain, all was quiet as Sallie strolled along the narrow treelined path. A mother duck and a parade of ducklings skimmed the pond’s surface.
At the cottage, she sat on one of the two white Adirondack deck chairs, flipping through the pictures she’d taken with Autumn’s camera, breathing a prayer for those back home, thanking God for this respite.
When twilight drew near, Sallie headed back inside to the white-tiled kitchen, where she ran warm water into the stainless steel sink. She squeezed a few drops of dish detergent into the basin to wash her bathing suit by hand. No sense using the washing machine for this, she thought, all the while composing a letter in her head to her mother.
When she finished washing and rinsing the salty seawater off her suit, she hung it in the shower, hesitant to use the clothes dryer, something she’d never done.
Then, going to the small but welcoming living area, she sat at the maple desk with an attached Colonial-style hutch filled with books, and began to write on her prettiest stationery.
Dearest Mamm,
Today was one of the best days ever. I spent much of the morning and afternoon at the ocean! Swimming in the waves was so different from Uncle Rudy’s large pond . . . or even the Susquehanna River, and I loved every minute.
Please tell Dat hello, and Frannie, too, although I’ll write to her tomorrow. You see, I need some quick advice from you.
Autumn Logan has been an only child for almost all of her nine years. Think of that! Anyway, she can get teary eyed or pouty when she talks of the many good times she spent with her mother before two-month-old Connor was born. Rather clingy, too.
She must feel like she’s lost her mother’s affection. Any ideas how I can help her? Even though Autumn seems unsettled, I’m convinced Monique loves her very much—she is still quite attentive to her daughter.
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