Autumn grimaced. “Mommy wouldn’t mind if I sleep at the cottage,” she insisted.
“Maybe Connor will feel better tonight. Let’s wait and see.”
At last, Autumn gave in. “Mommy needs a break, too.” Her face broke into a sudden smile. “Maybe we’ll both come over and sleep with you.”
“And leave Connor alone?”
Autumn stared at Sallie, tears coming. She shook her head sadly. “No, I don’t mean that.”
“Aww . . . come here, sweetie.” Sallie opened her arms to her.
When Autumn dried her eyes, Sallie told her that Frannie might be coming to visit in a couple of weeks. “I’d like you to get better acquainted with her.”
“But it’ll be on a weekend, and I don’t see you much then.” Autumn carried the Jell-O salad and tuna sandwiches to the outdoor table.
“We’ll make time.”
“Maybe you and Frannie can come over after church on Sunday.” Autumn brightened at her own suggestion. “I’d really like that.”
“Let’s see how it all works out.”
Autumn was quiet for a moment. “I’m glad we still have lots of time together this summer, because I’ll miss you when we leave Cape May.”
“Oh, honey, I’ll keep in touch.”
Another smile appeared. “You will? You’ll write to me?”
“Of course.”
“And maybe next summer, you’ll be my nanny again?”
Sallie hadn’t considered that. She would start her baptismal classes then. “Each year you put it off, the harder it may become,” Mamm had warned.
“Connor will be fourteen months old by then, and you and your mommy will be doing more things together again. Just you wait.”
“He’ll be too little to take everywhere, though,” Autumn said, folding her hands for a mealtime blessing.
When Autumn said grace, she also prayed that Connor would soon fall sound asleep, “so Mommy can come home and eat her lunch in peace.”
After supper that evening, Sallie met Kevin at the designated trolley stop. He brightened when she waved, looking casual in a short-sleeved pale green shirt and white shorts, a quilt rolled up under his arm. Oh, was she glad to see him again!
Together they rode to Rotary Park, where a free concert in an old-timey bandstand was to begin at eight o’clock, an hour and a half from now.
“The Congress Street Brass Band is scheduled to perform,” Kevin said as they went. “They’re Cape May’s official band. Kind of fun . . . the whole small-town atmosphere.”
“Another first for me,” she said.
“You might recognize some of the patriotic tunes,” Kevin said as they exited the trolley and strolled toward the park. A few dozen people were already gathering with beach chairs and blankets. “This band is quite good—everyone turns out for them.”
He chuckled, his wavy dark hair shimmering in the evening sunlight. “ ‘America the Beautiful’ was one of my favorites growing up,” he said, smiling at her. “I learned to sing it while in the elementary-school chorus.”
“So, you’re a singer, too.”
“Well, not a soloist,” he quickly clarified. “You might hear some of the crowd join in the singing tonight, though.”
Sallie was excited to attend the brass-band performance, and even more so to spend time with Kevin, who touched her elbow gently as they stepped onto the curb and moved into the appealing park.
They located a grassy spot, and Kevin spread out the quilt, which looked to be handmade, from what Sallie could tell. “Mind if I take a peek at your quilt?”
“It’s one my aunt loaned me for tonight,” Kevin mentioned. “She and my uncle live over in the historic district, not far from the Columbia House and directly across from the little yellow library.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, recalling the majestic-looking inn. “Such a perty red roof on that old Victorian, too.”
“It’s a mansard roof, one of many in town.”
“You certainly know a lot about things,” she said, teasing him.
Kevin caught her eye. “Yeah, I know, I’m a fountain of useless knowledge.”
She played along with the humorous moment. “Not at all—I like hearing this stuff,” she said, examining the tiny hand stitching on the underside of the quilt. “This is really nicely done. Did your aunt make it?”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t sew, so she must have purchased it.”
“Did you know that it’s a friendship quilt? Still, seems reckless to sit on such a pretty one. Might get grass stains.”
He waved away her concern. “My aunt encouraged me to use it just for this.”
Sallie tried not to smile too broadly as they sat down on the quilt next to each other, her long dress spread down nearly to her ankles. I know we’re only friends, but this feels like a date, she thought, slipping off her sandals and enjoying the cool breezes.
“See those?” Kevin pointed out the U.S. flag buntings draped over the wooden sections of the gazebo-style bandstand. “The wife of the clerk at the card shop we visited made those for the bandstand before she died. That was some years ago now.”
“A nice touch, ain’t so? People sure like to celebrate the Fourth round here,” Sallie said. “And that gazebo is like something out of a book—my brother Vernon would like a closer look at it, I’m sure.”
“He’ll have to come quick, then. There’s a development plan to demolish this bandstand and build a larger one.”
“Goodness! Why?”
“It’s fifty years old . . . guess it’s past its time. I remember coming to these park concerts as a boy with my whole family.” Kevin glanced at her. “My father carved his and Mom’s initials on one of the old trees around here.” He paused, chuckling suddenly. “Wish I knew which one. They’ll be taking out all of the trees when they put in the new bandstand, sad to say.”
He shrugged, and as they talked further, Kevin described how his sisters would chase him and his brother around the bandstand while their parents sat on an old blanket near this very spot.
When the brass band finally began to play, music filled the air with a stirring march. Sallie sat spellbound and applauded along with Kevin and the rest of the crowd at the end of each piece. Never before had she heard such thrilling music—music to march or prance to, just as some children were doing at the base of the bandstand.
As dusk’s mantle fell over the park, strings of white lights became visible all across the top of the old bandstand.
If only the concert could last long into the night, Sallie thought, glimpsing Kevin, who looked equally happy.
Will he ask to see me again? And what will I say if he does?
27
On the trolley after the concert, Kevin and Sallie talked about their commonalities. A gentle irony was beginning to emerge—Kevin seemed to be yearning for what he had been denied: a simple upbringing free of the world’s distractions. And Sallie longed for what he found so accessible: traveling to faraway places and seeing God’s amazing creation firsthand. But as preoccupied as Kevin seemed with his childhood visits to Lancaster County, he remained quick to admit, “I could never be Amish and do what I want to do.”
Of course he can’t, thought Sallie.
Even so, it was fun to discuss how Kevin’s experiences at his Amish cousins’ farms paralleled Sallie’s own very Plain life.
They stepped off the trolley and wandered past the Original Fudge Kitchen and Ocean Putt Golf, and Kevin asked if she had “a-hankerin’ ” for some ice cream.
“I don’t have to be asked twice,” she joked. “How ’bout you? You ready?”
“Fix un faerdich,” he agreed, pushing his hands into his pockets.
“You’ve obviously picked up some Deitsch during your visits to Amish country.” Sallie loved that he was so comfortable with her.
“Only a little, and it’s been a while since I used it.” He went on to tell her that he used to know quite a few words and phrases. “Enough so I cou
ld usually figure out the gist of what my cousins were saying to each other, even though they thought I was in the dark.”
They laughed together.
Sallie enjoyed the bright lights and the overall festive atmosphere of the promenade. “Is it always like this after sundown here?”
“Until the stores close at eleven and things go pitch-black.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” She hoped she didn’t sound naïve there in the midst of the din of the boardwalk crowd. But tonight was the most fun she’d had since first going to the Green Dragon Market and Auction in Ephrata as a child.
———
Having ice cream cones with Kevin fleetingly reminded Sallie of Perry’s surprise visit to the ice cream shop with his sisters. Now, as she sat with Kevin on the bench, hearing the thunderous slaps of waves against the dim shore, she wondered what lengths a fellow—or his sisters—would go to get a young woman’s attention. Even so, there was no comparing Perry to Kevin, what with their drastically different upbringings. And futures.
“I’m piecing together a theory,” Kevin said, nearly finished with his waffle cone. “Following God’s will sometimes leads us on a quiet, lonely path. Everyone surrounding us is skittering about in other directions—any which way but the one we’re going. And sometimes even we misunderstand our own course . . . that risk makes it all the more key to wait for divine direction.” He looked at her, and she nodded silently.
“Seeking out the Word helps immensely, I’ve found. It helps to push out the distractions that can cause confusion.”
His easy talk about Scripture reminded her of Essie.
“But following the Lord’s leading—His calling—also means learning to live without regrets. After all, if it’s the way He has directed us to go, we can trust He knows best.”
Sallie hadn’t considered this before. “I think some of us are reluctant to take the lonely, untraveled path.”
“Naturally.” Kevin brushed off his hands. “I know it’s been a challenge for me, for example. Out of all my siblings, I’m the only one who is, so far, determined to get a college degree, if not a master’s. It hasn’t been easy, but, Lord willing, I’ll graduate next year.” He sighed and folded his arms. “To be frank, my avid interest in marine biology puzzles my parents.”
“They don’t understand your desire for higher education?”
“It’s not that—more that my career path perplexes them,” he replied.
It wasn’t her place to ask why. Even so, she found Kevin’s passion for attaining his goals as stimulating as her first-ever swim in the ocean.
“Yet I know God will always be with me, every faith-step I take.”
She nodded, appreciating that he trusted her with his thoughts.
Then, somewhere along the way, while discussing various acquaintances, the conversation took a turn. Kevin mentioned that it was hard to believe she wasn’t seeing someone or even engaged. This time, it didn’t seem as startling, perhaps because they’d firmly established their connection as just friends. “Where are all the single Amish guys in Paradise Township?” Kevin grinned at her.
And since he had been so candid with her, she felt comfortable saying, “The timing just hasn’t been right.” She thought of Perry.
“Your hope to travel?”
“I guess you could say that, jah. Talk about puzzlin’ everyone I know, including my family.”
He listened intently.
“To be honest, I haven’t been overly impressed with most of the young men back home, but it’s certainly not their fault. My own interests have gotten in the way.”
They began to walk again, and Sallie found herself matching Kevin’s pace, glad she’d worn sandals. Even after a couple of weeks here, it was still strange to be wearing shoes before the fall.
“So will you be true to your dreams?” he asked, brown eyes twinkling. “Stick by your goal to explore more of God’s vast creation?”
She hesitated. “Actually, I am—right here in Cape May.” She gestured with her arms, as if to embrace her entire surroundings. “And it’s been glorious so far!”
At first he grinned in response to her exuberance, but as they continued their pace, he seemed more thoughtful.
“Once I start preparing for baptism next year, I’ll have to learn to be content stayin’ put with the People. Like the apostle Paul said, ‘in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.’ ”
He bit his bottom lip. “So, after you’re baptized . . .”
She nodded as if to finish his statement. “The trip here will be it for me.”
Kevin didn’t seem to know what to say and averted his gaze. “And you have no choice in the matter?”
“I do, of course, but that type of life is all I’ve known.”
“Till now,” he said.
“Besides, I made a promise.” She explained how heartbroken her parents, especially Mamm, would be. “Devastated.” She told him that until now she’d put off church baptism, knowing how limited her ability to travel overseas would be once she did join. “In all truth, it was rather selfish, what I wanted to do.”
“Maybe,” Kevin replied. “But what if it’s something the Lord’s put in your heart? Something you’re supposed to do?”
She shrugged. “Or maybe it’s a test, ya know, of my dedication to the People . . . and to my family. Like ya said, ‘Following God’s will sometimes leads us on a quiet, lonely path.’ So maybe that’s my road.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Kevin suggested he walk her home, since it was dark. “Not that our streets aren’t safe.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“That’s not why I suggested it.” He slowed his pace and began to whistle.
It’s one way to extend our evening, she thought happily.
It was nearly ten o’clock when Sallie and Kevin said good-bye across the street from the Logans’ house. A light was still on in their kitchen as Sallie made her way over the driveway and past the lap pool to the guest cottage. Inside, she hurried to the bedroom, and while taking down her bun to brush her hair, she caught sight of her flushed face in the dresser mirror. She touched her warm cheek and thought, For pity’s sake.
She showered and dressed for bed, then stood at the window. The moon reflected in the fishpond as she relived her enjoyable evening and lingering at the curb with Kevin, prior to their parting. Am I too fond of him for my own good?
Kevin had wished her a happy Fourth, saying he was spending the day with his family in Norma and advising her not to miss the Congress Street Beach fireworks display. “Something you’ll always remember.”
Autumn had said much the same thing, she recalled. Sallie hoped the Logans might include her in their plans, since the holiday landed on a Friday, and Len was coming for a three-day weekend. She’d never gone to a fireworks show before. Yet another first . . .
It seemed especially interesting that Kevin had gone to the trouble to say he wouldn’t be in town but would like to call her on Sunday afternoon, following church with his family. She hadn’t known the cottage phone number offhand, instead telling Kevin it was likely registered under Leonard Logan.
Before drifting off to sleep, Sallie prayed that she wasn’t getting in over her head, like a determined yet foolish swimmer.
“I won’t let myself,” she whispered.
28
The mail arrived the next day while Sallie cooed to Connor in his infant seat. Evidently spotting the white postal truck, Autumn flew out of the house to the curb. Sallie could see her standing there talking to the mailman, accepting the letters, then running back toward the house.
Monique had gone to have her hair done at a nearby salon and spa, not wanting to feel bedraggled for the upcoming holiday. Sallie had encouraged her to stay long enough to have a massage, assuming it was an option.
Now that a couple of hours had passed, it appeared that Monique had taken her up on the offer. Sallie was glad for Monique and also thankful that Connor was alert and
quiet for a change.
“Mail call for Miss Sallie!” Autumn came bounding into the house, waving a thick envelope. “But it’s not from your mother or your sister.”
Sallie smiled as she picked up and cuddled darling little Connor.
“Sorry . . . I peeked at the address,” Autumn said sheepishly.
“Thanks for bringin’ it in.” Sallie accepted the letter and placed it on the coffee table. She laid Connor down on her lap, his tiny eyes wide. “I want to tell your baby brother something ’bout you,” she said softly, motioning to Autumn.
The girl crept over and sat down next to her. “He seems happy today.”
“I think he is,” Sallie agreed. “Any guesses why?”
Autumn shook her head.
“Well, it could be partly because he has such a great sister.” Sallie addressed the baby. “Connor, I’d like you to take a look at your big sister, Autumn. She’s a very special girl and an excellent artist . . . and she swims like a mermaid, too. She likes to search for seashells and Cape May diamonds on the beach. Someday, when you’re older, you’ll admire her wonderful drawings and see all the polished pebbles she’s collected.” Sallie glanced at Autumn, observing the play of emotions on her pretty face. “And maybe you’ll even look for them with her.”
Autumn leaned still closer. “Is he listening?” she whispered.
Sallie loved Autumn’s reaction, and she continued. “Connor, when you grow up, I know you’ll be just as kind and caring as your sister is.”
His little face burst into a smile as Autumn peered down at him, and Sallie was heartened at the timing.
Autumn bent low toward Connor’s fuzzy blond head, coming as close to him as Sallie had ever seen her.
“God has blessed you with a very special big sister,” Sallie whispered.
When Monique returned, she looked revitalized and thanked Sallie for the chance to have a much-needed break. And while Connor slept and Monique made some calls to friends in Philly, Sallie and Autumn swam in the Logans’ pool.
“Aren’t you going to read your letter?” Autumn asked as she came up for a breath from the deepest part of the pool.
The Ebb Tide Page 15