“Doubt I’d be much good at that,” he confessed, “as dependent as I am on books.” He smiled at her. “Say, all this talk of food has me thinking about lunch. Where would you like to go?”
“I’m not particular,” she said. “What’re you hungry for?”
“Well, the Pier House is terrific, but it’s quite a jaunt from here,” Kevin said.
“I’m used to walking,” she assured him.
Even so, he suggested they take the trolley there. He mentioned that one of his sisters had been a waitress at that restaurant over the course of a couple summers. “That was before she landed another job,” he explained.
“How many sisters do ya have?”
“Two, both younger. And one older brother, married last year. My mom prayed for what she always said was the ideal family, two boys and two girls.”
Sallie smiled. “I wonder what my Mamm would say to that, what with ten offspring.”
“That’s not so many for an Amish family.”
Sallie agreed. “Dat says it’s ideal for running a farm.” She glanced at him. “What ’bout your mom’s family?” she asked, hoping it was okay to delve further into his history.
“Dawdi and Mammi Stoltzfus have seven children. Mom is the middle one, with three older sisters and three younger brothers,” Kevin said. “Dawdi wanted sons first, but it all worked out, considering they left farming behind by the time the kids came.”
“My mother says she taught the boys how to wash and dry dishes once they could push a chair up to the sink,” Sallie said, “and to peel potatoes and whatnot. She was that desperate for help.”
“I’m surprised your father allowed it—I always took Amish for being more strict about gender roles. I remember when we would visit my great-uncle and aunt—Mammi’s older brother,” Kevin said. “He would tell my brother not to slouch. ‘Next thing, you’ll look like a bashful girl.’ Naturally, that did not set well with Josh. Then again, he was never caught slouching after that.”
Sallie laughed softly. “Sounds like something my father might’ve said to my brothers.”
“By the way, just to be clear,” Kevin explained as they boarded the trolley, “my Amish relatives haven’t shunned me and my siblings, though certain of Mom’s cousins are leery of her and Dad, which makes no sense. My parents had nothing to do with my grandparents’ decision to jump the fence all those years ago.”
Sallie understood. “There are some who adhere closely to the Ordnung, and others who feel that blood kin are closer than church rules can dictate.”
“Makes sense,” he said.
At the north end of Beach Avenue, they exited the trolley and headed into the Pier House, nestled alongside La Mer Beachfront Inn. Sallie made it clear they were going Dutch this time, and Kevin agreed, smiling. “They have a mean grilled rib-eye sandwich, if you’d like a recommendation.”
Once they were seated on the open-air terrace with its view of the ocean, Kevin placed the panda bear on the empty chair at their table and continued the conversation. “It’s so great talking with you, Sallie.” He reached for the menu and handed it to her with a wink. “I hope I’m not boring you with my questions.”
She couldn’t help it—she was blushing, but thankfully Kevin didn’t seem to notice as he picked up his own menu.
———
Having lunch while overlooking the sand and the surf was Sallie’s idea of a wonderful time. She sat back and slipped off her sandals beneath the table, listening intently as Kevin shared more about his upbringing or occasionally asked thoughtful questions about her own. At one point, he revealed that he had dated someone early his sophomore year, but rather quickly they both realized they were better off as friends.
“Just didn’t work out,” he said. “And we’re still great friends to this day, go figure.”
Sallie was still, taking in what he’d just said.
Kevin nodded toward the ocean. “Only three more hours until ebb tide.”
“When the sea level falls,” she said softly.
“Yes, and the foreshore or intertidal zone is revealed,” Kevin said, turning back toward her. “I love seeing what the high tide leaves behind. . . . There’s so much life below the surface; we should appreciate the chances we get to see it.”
“Amazing how the sea always turns itself round again while we just sit idly by and wait.” She shrugged. “I learned that in the book I’m currently reading.” She laughed, having put strong emphasis on currently.
“Unique choice of reading material for someone from Lancaster County! Usually I don’t find anyone outside of school who’s eager to read that kind of thing.” His eyes were serious, as if evaluating her.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Guess I’ve always been a little curious about God’s creation.” She took another bite of her rib-eye sandwich.
“Me too. I’ve learned some interesting spiritual lessons from marine biology.” He began to reference the many types of marine life he was studying. “I enjoy seeing the patterns in their life cycles and behavior. Things are predictable in nature, of course. Other creatures seem to display a contentment and patience that people just don’t have. We tend to bombard heaven with questions, impatient for answers.” He paused, shaking his head. “Well, more accurately . . . I do.”
Sallie nodded, touched by his candor and sincerity. No man she’d ever met spoke with such an open heart.
Kevin took a long drink of his soda and set the glass down. “I really believe that God is there in the midst of our questions, but being patient remains a constant challenge. There are times when life is a waiting game . . . like waiting for a falling or rising tide.”
“We tend to forget that the tide typically turns four times a day,” Sallie said, folding her cloth napkin and pushing it near her plate. “Sometimes we’re afraid it won’t.”
Kevin nodded, grinning as though impressed with her knowledge. “‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for,’”
“Words to lean on,” she murmured, thinking of what Dat had always said of the Good Book.
———
After they’d paid for their meals, they left the restaurant and ventured down to the beach, talking further. Time seemed to pass too quickly as the breeze picked up, although the waves had greatly diminished as the waters moved toward ebb tide.
Kevin’s eyes were hopeful as he turned toward her. “Sallie, would you mind getting together again Tuesday evening after supper?”
Surprised, Sallie stared down at her hands, folded against her Amish dress. “I’d like that.” The words sounded tiny against the sound of the ocean. “It can’t hurt to be friends.”
He nodded eagerly. “Friends, it is.”
All the rest of the afternoon, Sallie replayed their conversation, every second of it, and wondered what had made her think it was a good idea to meet him again. Still, for the life of her, she couldn’t stop smiling.
25
Sallie enjoyed some souvenir shopping on her own after she and Kevin parted ways. She returned to the card shop and purchased the pack of postcards Kevin had suggested, thinking she could send one to Dawdi and Essie, as well.
Later, at supper with the Logans, Sallie asked Autumn how her eagle drawing was progressing. “Are ya havin’ fun with it?”
Autumn finished chewing and swallowing before she answered, “It’s almost finished.”
“Be sure to show it to Sallie when we’re finished eating,” Len urged her from the head of the table, where he looked relaxed in a golf shirt and shorts.
Monique leaned near to kiss Autumn’s temple, smoothing her hair. “She wants to make a small eagle sculpture, too. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
Autumn smiled fondly at her mother, a smile of devotion.
Have they broken new ground? Sallie wondered, though she couldn’t know for sure when Connor was asleep in the nursery.
“Oh, and tell Sallie what you did this afternoon, honey,” Len prompted.
Autumn’s eyes grew wi
de. “We went on a whale-watching cruise.” She told of seeing a number of whales up close and many dolphins, too, as they followed alongside the boat, diving in and out of the water. “I counted twenty-two dolphins.”
“Twenty-two? That’s a lot!”
“We’ll have to be sure you get to go, too,” Len interjected. “Sometime before we leave Cape May.”
“I’d love that,” Sallie said, though she didn’t want them to spend extra money when they were already paying her exceptionally well.
“What did you do today, Miss Sallie?” asked Autumn, smiling at her across the table.
“Well, I had a pleasant walk on the promenade, and I played Skee-Ball!” She purposely left out meeting Kevin.
“Without me?” Autumn giggled. “What else did you do?”
“I splurged a bit and had lunch at the Pier House.”
“All by yourself?” Autumn burst out, much to Monique’s shock.
Trapped in a tight corner, Sallie shook her head. “With a friend.”
Autumn pressed her lips together and locked eyes with Sallie. A kind of realization seemed to cross her face, but she said no more.
“How very nice for Sallie,” Monique told Autumn, looking a bit chagrined.
“There are a variety of less expensive eateries to explore, as you’ve undoubtedly discovered,” Len intervened, sitting at attention when Evie appeared with a mound of shortcakes on a pretty rose-colored plate.
“Here we are.” Evie placed them gingerly in the middle of the table, then smoothed her floral skirt. “The cakes are still warm.”
“All the better,” Len was quick to say, rubbing his hands together.
Monique held out her plate while Evie served her the first one. “Looks perfect.”
Politely, Autumn picked up her fork and waited to be served, sending a silent eye message to Sallie.
Whew! Sallie thought, relieved at the girl’s willingness to keep her guess to herself.
Later that evening, Sallie studied the details of the eagle sketch. It was as beautifully drawn as the other illustrations in Autumn’s art folder.
“You did this by yourself?”
“While Mommy was busy with Connor and Daddy did some paperwork upstairs.”
Autumn said she was glad Sallie liked the drawing. “Things will be back to just us next week,” she said, smiling up at Sallie.
“We’ll have a right gut time,” she promised as Autumn walked her to the sliding patio door through the dining area, the girl’s bright pink toenails peeking from her white flip-flops.
“I can’t wait,” Autumn said, giving a little twirl.
They were saying good-bye when Connor began to cry. Autumn turned toward the nursery and frowned. “He still can’t stop crying.”
Sallie touched Autumn’s shoulder. “Honey . . .”
“I’m going to my room for some quiet,” Autumn declared and left.
Sallie headed on her way. Oh dear . . . One step forward, two back.
At the cottage, Sallie spotted the panda bear sitting on the bedroom chair. Its vigilant black eyes seemed to bore a hole in her.
Mr. Bear, you know too much. . . .
Sighing, she went over and picked it up, burrowing her face in its fuzzy neck. Then, feeling downright silly, she set it down and got ready for bed.
At dawn the next morning, Sallie awakened with lingering thoughts of Kevin and no idea what to do with them. She was having such a lovely time here, and for certain, Kevin was an added surprise.
During a quick breakfast in the kitchen after Bible reading and prayer, she began to read from her new book on seashells. The photographs were exquisite, and she was enthralled by the section on varieties from tropical and subtropical islands. The true heart cockle shells, a group of bivalve mollusks, especially caught her eye.
After a time, she set the book aside and thought about her family . . . and Perry. How was he doing? Was he suffering any less now that his leg had been stabilized in a cast, as Frannie had written in her most recent letter?
She wrote a greeting to Frannie on the back of the postcard she’d purchased, then started a postcard to Cousin Essie. Partway into it, she heard rapid footsteps coming down the path. Looking up, she saw Autumn dressed for church in a yellow skirt and white top with yellow piping around the boat neck. “Guder Mariye,” Sallie said, forgetting.
“That’s good morning in Amish!” Autumn grinned, bright-eyed. “Here’s a letter for you,” she said, handing it to her. “Mommy forgot to give it to you last night.”
“How nice of you to bring it over,” Sallie said, noticing it was from Mamm.
“Are you sure you won’t come to church with me today? We aren’t leaving for another half hour, Mommy says.”
“You’re very considerate to invite me,” Sallie said.
Autumn went to sit in the other Adirondack chair and crossed her slender legs, her white sandals shiny. “Daddy says our church isn’t like what you’re used to. He says you have church in a house.”
“That’s right. In different homes, every other week.”
“What do you do the other Sundays?”
Sallie explained that, for one, their bishop and ministers wanted the People to have time to visit their relatives in other church districts. “And our bishop oversees another church, as well, so he attends ours one Sunday, then goes to the other congregation the following Lord’s Day.”
Autumn looked a little confused by this. Then, out of the blue, she asked, “So did you have lunch with the guy from the nature center yesterday?”
“You’re one schmaert gal.”
“Kevin, right?”
Nodding, Sallie tried to make little of it.
“Well,” Autumn said, “guess I won’t see you as much now.”
Sallie shook her head and smiled. “Oh, sweetie, you won’t see me one minute less than before. I’m here for you, first and foremost.”
Autumn worked her little mouth. “Okay.”
Sallie put down her pen, anticipating more questions about Kevin.
Autumn, however, was on to the next topic. “I want to frame my eagle drawing when it’s done. I tried to ask Mommy about it at breakfast, but she was too busy with the baby. And real tired again.” She sighed loudly. “Daddy was talking on the phone while he loaded the dishwasher, and I wanted to tell someone. That’s why I came over.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Yawning, Autumn said, “Thanks, Miss Sallie.”
“Didn’t you get enough sleep, sweetie?”
“More than poor Mommy did. I think she was up really late with Connor.” Autumn pulled a face. “I finally put my earplugs in.”
“Babies can be fussy at night, ya know. ’Specially when their tummies bother them.”
Autumn rose suddenly, visibly tense. “Babies are fussy all the time!” She sighed and looked toward the door. “Well, I’ll see you at supper.”
Sallie wanted to say she couldn’t wait to spend time with her again, but Autumn was clearly out of sorts as she ran down the deck steps to the path, her curls springing against her shoulders.
———
The letter Autumn had just delivered was a welcome sight—the second from Mamm. Sallie leaned back, thankful for the sunshine. As was usual, Mamm began with a bit of neighborhood news. Uncle Rudy’s granddaughter Ada Sue forgot to close the henhouse door a few days ago. Twenty-five chickens went missing! And Uncle Rudy’s mother-in-law’s old, worn-out dinner bell—the one she was so determined to throw away—brought four hundred dollars at last weekend’s farm auction. Just think of it!
Continuing to read, Sallie discovered that the family’s plans to move were coming together, and the Dawdi Haus was in the process of being scrubbed from top to bottom. Your Dat, Frannie, and I will move in the first weekend of July, the day after the Fourth. Your brothers will help with the large items. And Laura, Frannie, and Cousin Essie have offered to help get the kitchen set up.
Things would go quickly, Sallie knew,
but she regretted that she wouldn’t be there to lend a hand.
The newsy letter offered no mention of whether young Aaron’s upcoming heart surgery had been scheduled . . . or of Frannie’s rushing down here to visit, which was surprising, given Frannie’s most recent phone call.
Was it more Frannie’s concern than Mamm’s? Or has Frannie reassured Mamm that she doesn’t need to worry, after all?
26
Monday morning early, Sallie did all of her washing— even branched out and used the dryer, which seemed ever so odd. She missed the fresh-air scent of clothes dried on the line but delighted in the unexpected warmth and softness when she removed her clothing from the speedy machine.
The day itself moved along at a snail’s pace. And while it was fun to accompany Autumn to Washington Square for ice cream and to buy a frame for the eagle drawing, Sallie couldn’t deny being eager to see Kevin again.
Autumn was particularly grumpy the next day, disinterested in swimming or drawing or even going to the zoo. “I want to have a sleepover with you at the cottage tonight,” she said while Sallie made their lunch. Monique had taken Connor out driving to try to soothe him. “I can’t sleep in this house,” Autumn complained.
“Connor’s still crying a lot?”
Autumn nodded her head. “Last night he sure did. That’s why Mommy took him in the car, to get him to fall asleep. Daddy did that Sunday afternoon, too.”
Sallie had also heard of other Englischers resorting to this.
“So, can I sleep at the cottage with you?” Autumn beseeched, apparently at her wits’ end.
Sallie had plans with Kevin for later that evening, but her first priority was to be available to Autumn, assuming Monique even approved of the idea. All the same, she hoped her young charge would change her mind. “What ’bout the earplugs you used before?”
“They keep falling out.”
“Well, you could sleep upstairs in your father’s office—there’s a nice comfy-looking sofa in there.”
The Ebb Tide Page 14