Monique seemed pleased, then asked Sallie what she thought about having crab cake sandwiches for supper. “I hope I can find my grandmother’s old recipe.” She looked in the pantry and found her recipe box, flipping through it. “I know it’s here somewhere.” After searching a few more minutes, she picked up her mobile phone and spoke into it, asking it to display recipe options. “Guess this online recipe will have to suffice,” she said, selecting one. “Thank goodness for Google!”
Sallie still had to think twice whenever she heard the funny-sounding word, which she only knew from customers at market or the restaurant. Still, she was impressed that Monique had been able to find a backup recipe so quickly.
Monique began to gather up the supper ingredients. Sallie insisted on helping to mix up the eggs with lemon juice, parsley, mayonnaise, and a dash of mustard as Monique chopped the bread into crumbs.
Autumn wandered into the kitchen just as Monique was placing the crabmeat in a bowl. “Wash your hands, honey, if you want to help.”
Happily, Autumn did so, then began to gently mix the bread crumbs in with the egg mixture and crabmeat. When that was done, Monique shaped the mixture into balls, flattening them slightly before placing them under the broiler.
While they cooked, Sallie offered to serve some of the chamomile tea she had brewed earlier, pouring it into glasses filled with ice cubes.
Sipping it, Monique smiled. “I forgot how tasty this is.”
“It’ll relax ya, too,” Sallie said, drying her hands on the kitchen towel.
“Might be exactly what I need.”
Relieved that Monique seemed to be more herself now, Sallie hoped she and Connor might feel better soon.
———
“This is delicious,” Sallie said after her first bite of the crab cake during supper. “I must get the recipe for these, if ya don’t mind. They make wonderful sandwiches.”
“Well, since the recipe’s not actually mine . . .” Monique smiled and mentioned that her grandmother’s recipe called for a rather spicy mixture. “Although perhaps it’s better without the heat, considering Connor’s upset tummy.”
On cue, he began to cry, and even though Monique hadn’t finished her meal, she promptly excused herself.
Oh, the sacrifices a new mother makes, Sallie thought, glancing at Autumn, who looked disappointed.
In due time, Monique returned, bringing Connor to the table beneath a nursing scarf, and sat down to finish eating. “Now, where was I?” she said, smiling at her daughter, then reaching for the rest of her sandwich.
But Autumn continued to eat, paying no mind to her mother or baby brother.
———
When Connor had finished nursing, Monique announced that they could all go to Sunset Beach for a change of scenery. She glanced down at Connor in her arms. “And if someone gets fussy, I’ll just return to the car till you and Autumn are ready. How’s that? The parking is real close to the beach.”
At the beach, Sallie enjoyed walking in the surf up to her ankles with Monique and Autumn while Connor slept in the infant carrier Monique wore around her. Autumn reached for Sallie’s hand, talking and pointing out various sights, evidently content.
Eventually, Monique went to sit on a bench overlooking the Delaware Bay as Sallie and Autumn went in search of the coveted quartz crystals Autumn was so taken with.
The sand felt coarse to Sallie compared to the city beach. And after a half hour of looking, they both came up short, but Sallie wasn’t the least bit disappointed, knowing she still had plenty of time to find her first “diamond.”
Close to sunset, Monique treated Sallie and Autumn to soft ice cream from The Grille, a rustic outdoor restaurant where a crowd of merrymaking guests had gathered to watch nature’s show.
Autumn was one of the first children in line to help lower the flag—a daily occurrence during tourist season—and to her delight was chosen for the honor. Monique seemed equally pleased and told Sallie that it was only the second time Autumn had done this since they first started coming to Cape May.
Sallie and Monique stood to watch the flag-lowering ceremony over the sparkling waters. In the near distance, the sunken remains of the massive SS Atlantus were still visible.
“The Atlantus was built to retrieve World War I troops from Europe,” Monique explained once the flag was folded and presented to the gold star family who’d offered it the day before, as was the tradition. “It sank here during a storm in 1926, after it was brought in as a ferry.”
“It looks sorta creepy,” Autumn said, clinging to Sallie’s arm. “Especially when the sun goes down behind it.”
Sallie had to agree with Autumn’s assessment—the battered remnants certainly seemed otherworldly.
“At low tide, you can see much more of the wreckage,” Monique remarked, adding that her parents had pictures they had taken from the shoreline back in the fifties, when the whole ship was visible. “The local residents say the ocean is devouring the ship. They joke that tourists need to hurry if they want a photo before it drops out of view.”
Sallie was fascinated and asked Monique more about it, quickly discovering that the ship was the most famous of a dozen concrete ships built at a time when steel was in short supply. “The storm broke her free of the dock and ran her aground,” Monique explained, “and since she was made of concrete, it was impossible to pry her loose. So there she has sat, crumbling away, for nearly ninety years.”
Autumn scooted closer to Sallie as the red ball of the sun sank into the horizon line, the ominous black pieces of the old ship in the foreground. Hesitant though she was to come between Autumn and Monique, Sallie was more than willing to comfort her young charge.
20
With Saturday off after a great busy week, it didn’t take long for Sallie to give Frannie a call early that morning, using the cottage phone. She’d checked with Monique about inviting her sister for a weekend, and the affirmative response had Sallie eager to pass along the invitation.
The phone rang at the field shanty, where Sallie left a voice message, knowing Dat would likely hear it first. Though there was no rush, she suggested Frannie call later that evening.
She’ll be ever so curious.
After hanging up, Sallie decided this first official day of summer was another perfect day to get some more sunshine and to enjoy the ocean without concern for Autumn’s safety, since Autumn would be out with her father again.
She collected her laundry and put it into the machine, having decided that it was too cumbersome to keep trying to wash her things by hand. Aware of the steady whir of the modern appliance, Sallie poured some granola for herself and made a piece of toast. There was a jar of homemade strawberry jam in the fridge, and she spread it generously, then poured milk over the cereal and carried her breakfast outside to the deck over the pond, embracing the early morning sounds of nature.
Much later, while inside hanging up her clothes, still hesitant to use the dryer, she heard a knock at the back door. It was Autumn, with her racket and looking pert in an all-white tennis outfit, a letter in her hand.
“Just look at you!” Sallie said, inviting her in as she took the letter, which was addressed in her mother’s careful handwriting.
Autumn stepped inside, staring at Sallie’s single braid. “Wow, I didn’t know your hair was that long.” She reached to touch it.
“Jah, well, I’ve never really cut it . . . just trimmed the dead ends off now and then,” she said, tousling Autumn’s hair. “Denki for bringin’ over my mail.”
Autumn beamed. “Well, Daddy’s waiting to play tennis, so I’ll see you later, Miss Sallie.” She blew a kiss, which was sweet and quite unexpected.
“Have a wonderful-gut time!” Sallie stood at the screen door and watched her skip down the lane.
Her father will dote on her, she thought, thankful for Len’s weekends with the family. It must be difficult for him to have to spend so much time away.
———
After she read the letter, Sallie took her sun hat down from the closet and set it aside for the beach. Then she slipped over to the small kitchen to make a ham and cheese sandwich, also finding green grapes and cherries. Hoping they might stay fresh longer, she wrapped the fruit in aluminum foil before placing them and a bottle of frozen water into a small cooler.
She caught the trolley to Cove Beach, then walked along the surf when she got out, surprised to feel closer to God here than she ever had. How can I ever leave this remarkable place? she thought.
She thought of Mamm’s letter . . . such excellent advice. Mamm definitely agreed that Autumn sounded jealous, suggesting that most firstborn children were initially, especially those who were only children for a number of years. Autumn needs time to mourn the end of her special relationship with her mother, Mamm had written. Be sure to listen carefully when she talks about what she’s feeling.
Sallie recalled the things Autumn had already shared with her and purposed to be an even better listener. Deep in her heart, she was certain Autumn didn’t want to resent Connor.
———
After renting an umbrella, Sallie anchored it in the sand, then laid out her boldly colorful towel and sat down, in awe once again. The ocean stretched out before her like a moving canvas, the rolling waves and forlorn calls of the terns and sea gulls filling her with a sense of tranquility.
Two teenage girls clad in shorts and halter tops walked past, the younger carrying several books, which reminded Sallie of Mamm’s suggestion to take Autumn to the library. There, she could find books on becoming a big sister.
Dear Mamm, helpful as always, Sallie thought, discreetly removing her dress, then putting on sunscreen right away. Not wanting to wait for the lifeguard to arrive, she wandered out to the water’s edge and dipped one foot in, then the other. She waded up to her knees, aware of the deep heat of the sun on her back and shoulders and, oh, the irresistible allure of the water! There was nothing quite like it, and if she lived here year round, she could easily become preoccupied with coming to the beach each and every morning.
Lest she be enticed to swim out too far without the protection of a lifeguard, Sallie returned to her umbrella and moved the beach towel into the sun. She wondered, while relaxing in the rays, what Frannie would say when she invited her to visit. Will she agree to come? A mere weekend seemed like too short a period to experience all she wanted to with her sister.
Sallie daydreamed, recalling childhood antics with Frannie. She cherished those memories, thinking particularly of the time she’d taken their older brothers’ dare and leaped off the tire swing and into Uncle Rudy’s deep pond. Sallie had done a belly flop—such a calamity!—but Frannie was more graceful and suffered not a whit.
A piercing whistle jolted Sallie out of her reverie. Has someone wandered out too far?
Squinting at her watch, she was surprised to see that thirty minutes had whizzed past, and when she turned over, she noticed that a male lifeguard was running toward the water, blowing his whistle again. His expression stern, he motioned for the swimmer at fault to return to shore.
The tide’s going out, she thought, remembering the hard tug of the current passing over her feet, pulling the sand out from under her heels—the most peculiar feeling ever.
Another half hour came and went, and Sallie put on her white terry cloth cover-up and moved the beach towel under the umbrella again. Putting on her sunglasses, she opened her tote to find the book on marine life but was drawn yet again to the never-ending movement of the sea.
Heavenly, she thought, absorbing every second.
———
Once again, Sallie lost track of time. She had no idea how long the pair of large and very tan bare feet had been there, not far from the edge of the umbrella’s shade.
When it dawned on her that someone was indeed standing there, she glanced up to see a young man wearing long swim trunks in a blue and green pattern, an inquisitive look on his handsome face.
“I thought that was you.” He smiled and removed his sunglasses. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”
Despite the sun in her eyes, she did a double take. “To be honest, you did a little,” she said, realizing it was Kevin, the naturalist from The Skimmer.
“Honesty is good.” He stepped closer, a black notebook in one hand. “It’s Sallie, right?”
Shielding her eyes, she squinted up at him in surprise. “I don’t see how you recognized me. I mean, the way I look now.” She was completely taken off guard and quite grateful for her modest cover-up.
He chuckled. “It must be your hair bun.”
“Oh, of course.” She had to laugh.
“What’s that you’re reading?”
She handed the book to him. “Since coming here, I’ve been fascinated by sea creatures like jellyfish, sea urchins, electric rays—you name it.”
He glanced at the table of contents, delight passing over his face. “You’re interested in marine life?” he asked, seemingly shocked.
“My family says I have a curious nature.”
“Curiosity about the world around us is a gift from God,” he said, returning the book.
She noted his mention of God and smiled at him, a bit more at ease now. “Are ya from around here?”
“I wish.” He smiled. “Actually, I spent nearly every summer here as a boy, but I was born forty miles or so from here, in Norma. I’m here staying with relatives this summer as an intern with the Cape May Whale Watch and Research Center,” he said. “How about you—from Lancaster County, perhaps?”
Sallie hugged her knees. “Paradise Township.”
“I’m practically Amish myself,” Kevin said, a playful glint in his eye.
“I don’t understand.”
“Some of my mother’s cousins are Old Order. They live not far from Paradise, in Nickel Mines.” Kevin glanced at the umbrella. “Mind if I share your shade for a moment?”
She agreed, intrigued by his reply.
“I take it this is your first visit to Cape May.” He sat down and leaned one elbow on his knee, the other hand still holding the notebook.
Sallie nodded. “It’s a far cry from pitchin’ hay and groomin’ road horses.”
Kevin chuckled. “Right, there’s nothing like this place, even though Amish farmland does rate a close second.” He mentioned visiting his Nickel Mines relatives fairly frequently throughout the years. “I learned to milk a goat by hand, as well as to avoid the hay holes in the barn . . . though I nearly broke my back once, jumping off an old oak tree into the watering hole.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I even helped rescue a half-frozen calf by bringing her into the house and putting her in a bathtub of lukewarm water!” he said.
Sallie laughed. “My Dat had to do that once, too.”
“As I recall, Paradise isn’t too far from Bird-in-Hand.”
“Straight southeast as the garden snake slithers.”
“You sound like my cousin Bekah. She runs a quilt fabric shop in Bird-in-Hand.”
“What’s her last name, if ya don’t mind?”
“Miller. Someone once told me there are as many Millers in Lancaster as there are flies,” he said. “By the way, my last name is Kreider—pretty typical among Mennonites like me.”
Kevin Kreider, she thought, realizing that at some point in his lineage, a Mennonite and an Amishperson had met and fallen in love.
She glanced at his thick notebook again.
Kevin followed her look. “Oh.” He explained that he’d gotten up before dawn and was out in the back bay waters she’d recently visited, then came to the large tide pool near this particular beach. “I’m in the process of recording information about marine organisms. Working on The Skimmer is something I do only a few times a week. One of the perks of my internship.”
“Interesting,” she said, realizing she’d lost her reticence, despite the fact that Kevin was little more than a stranger.
“I’m thankful for this
opportunity to get some field experience as a volunteer.” He looked heavenward. “The Lord certainly has a way of opening doors.”
“I’ll say.”
“So you’ve experienced that, too?” he asked.
She felt comfortable enough to reveal how working for the Logans had come about. “The job fell right into my lap, really.” Then she asked how he’d become interested in marine life.
“Since a kid, I’ve gravitated toward the ocean—dolphins, whales, all the various fish. When I was thirteen, I started as a mate with JJC Boats. The past three years I’ve done that in conjunction with my biology studies at EMU in Harrisonburg, Virginia.”
She was surprised. “I have a friend who used to attend school there—Eastern Mennonite University, right?”
He broke into a broad smile again. “A Yankee friend, I suppose.”
“Right.” She nodded, pleased that he’d used the Amish term for Englischers. “None of my people pursue higher education, of course. It’s forbidden . . . ’least for baptized church members.”
“I’m familiar with that rule. My Amish relatives and their children aren’t permitted to attend school past the eighth grade.” He dipped his hand into the sand and let it run through his fingers. “I would have been so disappointed.”
She listened, taking it all in. “So somewhere along the line, someone in your family tree must’ve left the People.”
“Believe it or not, it’s still a sore point with some.” He grew quiet and turned to watch three small boys run gleefully toward the water, their father close behind.
She hoped she hadn’t offended him.
“What about you, Sallie?” he asked, returning his attention. “How does it feel being here at the beach surrounded by English?”
She paused, unsure what she should say. Then, throwing caution to the waves, she said, “So far, this summer is the best one of my life, and I’ve only been here a week as of today.”
Kevin nodded his head. “I’ll never tire of the ocean. And once I started scuba diving, I was toast . . . I wouldn’t consider any other career path outside of marine biology.”
The Ebb Tide Page 11