The Ebb Tide

by Beverly Lewis

During the trolley ride back, Sallie kept hoping Autumn might bring up the topic of the books, but it didn’t happen. Perhaps the books didn’t appeal to her . . . or maybe she just isn’t ready to talk about this yet, Sallie thought later that afternoon while organizing art supplies as Autumn painted. Yet surely it helped the girl to know that other children her age struggled in the same way.

  I won’t give up, Sallie decided.

  On the last day of Autumn’s summer camp, Sallie paced the house with Connor, trying to settle him. She recalled how grateful Monique had been for her help. Eliminating dairy may be working, she thought, wondering if Autumn had also noticed her brother was more easily calmed, at least most of the time. With how busy the girl had been, it seemed unlikely. If anything, Autumn was even more wound up around her baby brother, seemingly intent on recapturing Sallie’s attention. Yesterday she had been full of talk about her class on raptors, seeking out Sallie to tell her everything she’d learned. Autumn had even said she wished Sallie had been young enough to attend the camp with her.

  Monique had raised her eyebrows at that, a bit startled, as if to say, “Sallie’s your nanny, not your playmate.”

  Once Connor was asleep at last, Sallie prepared a simple lunch and set the dining table, wanting everything to be ready in time for Autumn’s return from the class. As much as the girl had enjoyed learning intriguing particulars about various birds, Sallie had a feeling Autumn was ready to return to their regular schedule next Monday. Sallie had encouraged her to take her newfound interest in eagles, especially, and draw one in flight, offering to revisit the library for reference books.

  Oddly, Autumn had made a real point of reminding her that she’d seen “real live” eagles up close in the wild and had taken pictures. “Those will help most with my art project,” she’d insisted.

  She seems resistant to my suggestion, thought Sallie, perplexed about it. Is it because I’ve been more involved with Connor?

  When Autumn finished eating her lunch of a roast beef sandwich and celery sticks, her young neighbor friend, Rhiannon, dropped by to ask if Autumn could play. Taller than Autumn and blonder, too, Rhiannon held her bathing suit and a towel over her arm, grinning. Monique agreed that the girls could swim if Sallie supervised them. “I need to nurse Connor now.”

  “Better yet, I’ll even go in with them,” Sallie offered. “But I don’t want to be a wet blanket.”

  “Never, ever, Miss Sallie!” Autumn jumped up and down. “Let’s have swimming races!” She dashed off to her room to change into her swimsuit. Then, just that quickly, she returned to the living area and cupped a hand around Sallie’s ear, whispering, “I forgot to tell you that Mr. Kevin was my teacher today. He asked me to tell you hi.”

  Sallie couldn’t help but blush. “That’s very nice . . . now, go and get changed.”

  Autumn scampered off, giggling.

  Hearing that Kevin had been thinking of her and had even casually mentioned her to Autumn made Sallie smile, although she felt confused. She was just a farm girl. So why would a college student want to spend time with her?

  23

  Sallie took advantage of the moment to get to know Rhiannon, who described Autumn as one of her best friends, even though she only saw her during the summer.

  “You met some years ago, jah?”

  “The first time the Logans came,” Rhiannon said. “Me and Autumn were four. We spend as much time together as we can—I don’t have any brothers or sisters to play with. We’re pen pals, too, because my mom thinks I’m too young to have email or a phone.” At that, she shrugged comically.

  “Well, but getting real letters is even more special, don’t ya think?” Sallie suggested.

  “It’s okay, but email is lots quicker.” Rhiannon informed Sallie that she wanted a laptop for her tenth birthday. “But I have to wait another year.”

  “A whole year, huh?” Sallie said, wondering at such a young person being given any kind of computer.

  “Autumn and I are just two weeks apart.” Rhiannon held up nine fingers, twinkling with happiness. “Practically twins.”

  “Well, happy belated birthday, then.”

  Rhiannon thanked her and excused herself to hurry and change clothes. And Sallie headed to the cottage to do the same.

  ———

  Later, Sallie observed Autumn and her friend place their towels just so on the chaise lounges near the pool. Their motions were so similar, it was as if they’d practiced.

  “Who wants to dive for pennies?” asked Autumn, leaping into the pool feet first, blinking water off her long eyelashes.

  “What if we race?” Rhiannon asked, looking even taller and thinner in her black-and-white bathing suit.

  “We will . . . soon.” Autumn raised her shoulders at the exact same time as Rhiannon, wrinkling her little nose in a secret signal to her friend. Sallie was amused and taken by the connection between the girls, glad Autumn had this summertime friendship.

  “Are you coming in, too, Miss Sallie?” asked Autumn, her cheeks glistening in the sunlight as Rhiannon swam toward the far end.

  “Comin’,” Sallie said, setting aside her cover-up. “Where are the pennies?”

  While making her early morning coffee Saturday, Sallie bowed her head and prayed again for Perry, as well as for a blessing on her time with Kevin today. Once the coffee was done, she put ice cubes in a large glass, then poured in the extra-strong brew and stirred it awhile before sipping. Perfect, with such a muggy start.

  She took her glass outdoors, where she basked in the morning sunshine, which had just broken through a hazy overcast sky. She raised her face to the sun, knowing that her heavenly Father could be trusted to do all things well. For my future, too.

  Sallie pictured Frannie there with her, enjoying the stillness of the morning. It was the best time of day, when all was brand-new.

  A few minutes before ten o’clock that morning, Sallie spotted Kevin waiting outside the picturesque fudge shop, with its brown brick front and royal blue awning below the Open All Year sign. He was wearing tan walking shorts and a royal blue short-sleeved shirt. She had to smile, seeing him there early, his shirt matching her dress and apron.

  Kevin greeted her warmly, and her reservations of the past few days were quickly put to flight.

  “I hope you have a sweet tooth,” he said, holding the door for her as they entered the candy shop. The tantalizing aroma of fudge drew Sallie into the atmosphere of all things sugary.

  “My father says I have at least one,” she joked.

  Kevin grinned. “If we’re confessing . . .”

  “Ach, better not!”

  They shared a hearty laugh and began to peruse the long row of chocolates and other tempting offerings, and Kevin declared that he wanted to treat her. She was pleased but couldn’t decide between the taffy and either chocolate walnut or Snickers fudge. The almond butter crunch was also very tempting, as was the fudge with fruit—according to the small sign, an attempt to appeal to more health-conscious patrons.

  “Why not get the taffy and something fudgy?” He leaned over to gaze at the glassed-in display. “One for later.”

  She noticed the price, higher than any vendor at the Bird-in-Hand market. “Really, Kevin, I’m happy to pay for my own.”

  “But you’re a guest here. I insist,” Kevin said, diverting her attention by choosing for himself a chunk of pure fudge and a piece of taffy. “I must take after my mom, who loves an uncomplicated approach to chocolate. No cream-filled middles or add-ins for us! Just untainted flavor.”

  “Well, I like nuts with mine.”

  Kevin nodded. “So does my dad. But then, he also likes chocolate-covered bacon, so there you go.”

  “Ew!” Sallie laughed with him as they approached the cashier. Since Kevin still seemed so determined, she let him pay.

  As they exited the shop, she noticed people glancing their way now and then and doing a double take before quickly looking away. It was the pattern of the hour, but Kev
in seemed oblivious. Or maybe he had noticed but chose not to care. Either way, Sallie was unable to ignore it, feeling ill at ease for his sake.

  “How was your week?” he asked as they strolled past a string of souvenir shops with twinkling lights and enticing banners.

  “Well, I spent more time with Autumn’s baby brother while she attended camp at the nature center . . . sounds like she must’ve run into you.”

  “Ah, so she relayed my message.”

  Sallie nodded. “She was certainly excited each day . . . learned a lot, too, and tried to pass much of it on to me. Ever so much fun.”

  “Have you had a chance to get over to the lighthouse?” Kevin asked as they walked past families and couples, some eating popcorn or cotton candy.

  “Not just yet. Autumn says there are nearly two hundred steps to the top.”

  Kevin laughed and told her it took most people only about twenty minutes to climb to the pinnacle and back. “The view from the summit is spectacular. And on a perfectly clear day, you can see all the way to Cape Henlopen in Delaware.”

  “Sounds like the perfect activity for my sister Frannie and me.”

  “Has she ever been to the ocean?”

  “Not yet, but I hope she’ll be visiting me sometime this summer.”

  “What a great experience for you two.” Kevin looked up at a large colony of sea gulls flying about and dipping down to eat crumbs and stray popcorn on the promenade.

  Sallie volunteered another personal tidbit. “She didn’t say so, but I think Frannie’s a bit reluctant to leave her beau behind, since they’re getting married this fall.”

  Kevin perked up. “And you, Sallie . . . are you dating anyone back home?”

  Immediately Perry came to mind, though there were no promises between them. “Not at the present time,” she replied, tempted to ask Kevin the same question. But despite how relaxed she felt around him, it seemed forward.

  Besides, she told herself, Kevin’s just making conversation.

  An attractive gift and card shop nearby caught her eye. “Say, do ya mind if I make a quick stop in there?”

  “It’s your day off, too,” he said, and they headed inside.

  Sallie hoped she might find a postcard to send Frannie or another book to read. She looked at several books, noticed one about seashells, and knew she had to have it.

  While Kevin investigated other items across the store, the clerk, an older gentleman with a deep tan and short graying hair, welcomed her to “the island” and asked if she was enjoying herself on this fine morning.

  “I am, thanks,” Sallie replied as she paid for her purchases, then walked over to Kevin.

  Outdoors again, Kevin quietly mentioned that he knew the clerk’s granddaughter. “She’s one of the lifeguards at the city beaches. A real sweet girl.”

  “You and Autumn both seem to know everyone in town,” she observed as she slipped the bag with the postcard and small book into her shoulder bag.

  “It doesn’t take long. I’m sure you’ll know nearly as many people yourself by the end of the summer.”

  “Don’t tell Autumn, or she’ll take it upon herself to introduce me!” she jested.

  “Oh, and in case you missed them,” Kevin said, “the store also sells booklets of postcards—far less per card that way.” He chuckled as they resumed their walk. “I’m my father’s frugal son, always looking for a deal.”

  “My Dawdi Riehl’s like that, too.”

  “So is my grandfather—the one that pulled away from the Amish church.”

  She looked at Kevin, surprised he had shared that much.

  “Would you like to stop anywhere else?” he asked.

  She shook her head, taking in the expansive views of sea and shoreline from the promenade. In the distance, a white ship looked motionless against the water and sky.

  “Everyone I know sends electronic cards,” Kevin said matter-of-factly.

  “S’pect so. Everything’s so speedy . . . lightning fast.” Sallie sighed. “I’m constantly surprised by what life is like for Autumn, growing up at such a pace.”

  “I suppose your childhood was much like my grandmother’s—walking to a simple one-room schoolhouse, traveling by carriage, waking up with the sun.”

  “Bein’ Amish is a slower sort of life, for sure.”

  “Now that you’ve experienced a little of the English life, how does the Plain life compare?”

  She hadn’t expected this. “There’s no comparison, really.” She paused, wanting to be precise. “The Old Ways are a gut way to live, far as I’m concerned. They’re not for everyone. We feel called to live a simple and peaceable life.”

  Kevin nodded and seemed to accept that. “It’s not real clear to me why my grandpa Stoltzfus left the People. He got something really wonderful out of his time there, though: my grandma.” His eyes softened. “Spending time with you feels like I’m learning more about the life I might have lived. Like I’m connecting with my past.”

  Is he simply curious about his Amish heritage?

  She felt relief mingled with a tinge of inexplicable disappointment. “But what about you, Kevin? Are ya sorry you ended up an Englischer?”

  He smiled a little; then it faded. “In a way, I guess I feel like I’ve missed out.”

  “Seriously?”

  He shrugged. “But I couldn’t be Amish, not with the type of career I’m after. But still . . .” He shrugged, leaving his thought unfinished.

  A breeze brushed her face. What does he mean? She swallowed before quickly looking away, as if something had caught her attention.

  After an awkward moment, Kevin changed the subject and pointed to the Family Fun Arcade. “Hey, would you like to play Skee-Ball?”

  From what Autumn had said about playing the game with her father last weekend, Sallie assumed it was harmless fun. “Okay, I’ll try it,” she said, eager to watch Kevin play first.

  They walked past two little boys riding a teacup carousel to purchase their Skee-Ball tokens at the window.

  As she might have guessed, Kevin was an excellent aim, racking up the points—and free tickets—after his first and second games.

  “Your turn.” He handed the tokens to Sallie.

  Oh, goodness, she felt put on the spot! She let out a nervous giggle. “Well, I’ll do my best.”

  “Nah, just have fun,” Kevin encouraged her, stepping back. “After a few tries, you’ll get the hang of it.”

  She held up the first fist-sized ball just as she’d seen him do, then glanced at Kevin, who stood watching her with his arms crossed, grinning. “Okay, here goes,” she said and took aim, swinging the ball back and letting it roll up the inclined lane. The ball landed firmly in the second hole.

  Kevin applauded. “Not bad for a first try.”

  A teenage girl wandered past with her friend and muttered, “Whoa—the Pilgrims have landed at the arcade.”

  Sallie merely smiled, but Kevin looked momentarily annoyed, then shook his head good-naturedly in mock disgust.

  She played the next eight balls and surprised herself, and evidently Kevin, too, by scoring enough points to earn a bunch of tickets.

  “Well, look at you!”

  Sallie laughed. “I sometimes play corner ball with my brothers and volleyball, too, with my buddy group.”

  “Ah, so that explains the arm.”

  Sallie played through the next game and continued to do well, but feeling embarrassed at her success, she insisted Kevin take another round. “It’s only fair, since you paid for my first game,” she said.

  “No, no . . . you won this fair and square.”

  There was no convincing him otherwise.

  “But at this rate, we could be here all day,” Sallie said, then realized it surely sounded haughty. “Ach, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “I can’t imagine you would have,” he assured her, catching her eye. And the way Kevin looked at her when he said it made her heart rate rise.

  Sh
e cashed in their many tickets for a panda bear. “Never owned a stuffed animal before,” she admitted, giving the panda a big squeeze.

  “I’ll think twice before playing against you again,” Kevin said, offering to carry the bear for her. “Not sure my poor ego can take it!” he teased.

  Sallie dipped her head self-consciously. I should give the bear to Autumn, she thought, then felt wistful. The panda was all she might have to remember this day.

  Maybe I’ll keep it after all, she decided.

  24

  Heading back toward the east, they made a stop at the Pickle Jar, Kevin still carrying the panda bear. Sallie was curious to see the various types offered and told him about her mother’s amazing dills. “Mamm’s also taught my sisters and me how to make pickled baby corn and dilled asparagus. I love anything dilled.”

  This statement started a friendly debate between them: Which was better, sweet or sour pickles?

  Kevin insisted sweet pickles were better on sandwiches but much preferred sour pickles for eating plain.

  Sallie, on the other hand, disagreed. “I prefer sliced dills in my sandwiches and sweet pickles to eat by themselves. Say, I’ll make up some for ya when I can get my hands on a big batch of cucumbers—whichever kind of pickle you’d like,” she volunteered, thinking it would be fun for Autumn to learn the process.

  A lull ensued, and Sallie realized that she’d just implied a future meeting. Ach, he’ll think I’m forward!

  “Do you carry your pickle recipes around in your head?” Kevin asked when they ventured outside the shop.

  She nodded. “Well, those and for perty much anything else I’d like to make. My mother’s cousin Essie has a bunch written out, but Mamm has never jotted down her recipes. Most womenfolk just pass them from one generation to the next as we work side by side in the kitchen. My sister Laura knows more than fifty by heart.”

  “Is that pretty typical?” Kevin said.

  “Oh jah. Not as hard as it sounds when we learn to cook by doing rather than looking at a recipe. It’s that way for most tasks, really.” Even with his family roots, it seemed peculiar to her that Kevin would be so interested in this aspect of Plain culture.