“Then, if you’re tellin’ God about it, I wish you all the best.”
Hard as it was to break things off, she knew it was the wisest thing for them both. Sallie bit her lip, waiting there as Perry hastened across the parking lot and untied his horse from the hitching post. Without a glance back, he climbed into his father’s market wagon, and it rumbled away.
Reliving the conversation, she knew that letting Perry go would be considered a foolish thing by many, yet she’d chosen this not only for herself, but for Perry’s sake, too.
She whispered a prayer for him. Then, mindful that Mamm was shorthanded, Sallie headed back inside.
Another full week passed, into the time of year when farmers took stock of the number of bales in the haymow for the coming cold, and how many cords of wood were stacked and under cover.
Sallie worked diligently around the farm and at Allen and Kate’s, not sure what else to do with herself. She even helped Essie chop wood after she decided to take the axe into her own hands, even though Dat wasn’t in favor of it. “Your father and Allen have enough to do without trying to take care of me, too,” Essie explained.
But Dat insisted he hadn’t raised seven sons to sit by and watch Essie chop her own wood.
By the next afternoon, Adam and Daniel showed up and made quick work of it, with some help from Allen, who was busy running Dat’s farm now.
At the very end of the day, her chores all caught up, Sallie stood near the woodshed, her latest travel-related library book in hand. She glanced up to watch a noisy hawk preening at the southwest end of the horse fence as the sun threw long shadows across the barnyard below. Next month would bring the start of wedding season, and then fall would pass into winter, and the seasons would change yet again. And here I’ll be.
She needed to talk to Dat.
Sallie found him sitting alone in the small front room of the Dawdi Haus, reading The Budget by gaslight, the weekly newspaper rattling as he chortled over something.
“Do ya have a minute, Dat?” she asked, coming in and sitting on the settee close to his easy chair.
“For you, Sallie . . . hours.” He closed the paper and folded it there on his lap.
She searched for the right words, her father studying her closely.
“You still yearn for Cape May,” Dat said, filling the silence. “Ain’t?”
“I learned so much this summer.”
“All those books of yours and whatnot . . . didn’t ya already know quite a lot?”
She considered that. “Do you know what an ebb tide is?”
He nodded. “When the tide’s at its lowest point.”
Tears threatened, and she felt a lump in her throat. “Jah, a time for reflection, too.” She knew for certain her lowest point had been returning home after parting ways with Kevin. It had seeped into her thoughts each and every day since.
Continuing, Sallie shared quietly that she’d broken things off with Perry. “We’d gone on a few dates, but I knew I should end it before he asked to court me.”
Her father frowned, forehead creasing. “Did ya now?”
Sallie looked down and fooled with her apron. “Can I ask ya somethin’, Dat?”
Her father leaned so far forward, his beard almost touched his knees.
“It’s been nagging at me. . . . Truth be told, it’s bothered me more than this breakup.” She caught her father’s eyes, drew a breath, and let it out slowly. “Do you think I belong here?”
Her father hesitated, shuffling his bare feet. “What matters is what you think. Tell me, what’s in your heart?”
Her eyes watered as Dat awaited an answer.
“In all truth, I’m stewin’ over being baptized.”
Slowly, her father began to thread his fingers through his beard. “That’s a weighty thing for certain. . . . But I’d be dishonest if I didn’t say that your Mamm and I have wondered the same ’bout you.”
“You have?” She was surprised he’d admit this.
“Jah,” he said. “And I have to confess, I’ve wondered for a long time, ever since you were little. It worried me, thinking you might not find contentment as an Amishwoman, considering the strange yearning you’ve always had to see round the bend.”
“I’ve tried, Dat,” Sallie said, her throat tightening. “You know I have.”
He nodded. “I’ll give ya that.”
She sighed again. “So what can I do?”
“Ach, Sallie. I’ll tell ya truthfully, straight from this old ticker.” Here he patted his heart.
She frowned. “Dat?”
“I daresay if you don’t settle this at some point, you’ll come to regret it if ya move ahead with baptism in such a state. Not right away, maybe, but in a few years. Then what would ya do? Leave the People?”
Sallie shuddered. I’d be baptized and worthy of shunning.
Her voice was unsteady as she answered. “You’ve always said it’s not about doin’ what’s right for me, Dat . . . but for others.”
“You can do that elsewhere . . . if the Lord so leads.”
Taking a moment, she realized he was giving her the freedom to take a new and different path, something she’d never foreseen from her devout Amish father.
“Don’t be mistaken, Sallie. I’m not tellin’ you to leave the community now. Best to take your time deciding. Some have extended their Rumschpringe into their thirties and older before movin’ out into the world.”
“I’m not anxious to leave,” she insisted.
“And I’m not anxious to see ya go.” Dat tugged on his black suspenders. An easy smile spread across his wrinkled face. “You’re welcome round here for as long as need be.”
“Denki,” she said, accepting his hand and squeezing it tight.
There was much more she could have said, but it was enough that they’d opened their hearts this way to each other, prickly matter or not.
46
On the third Friday in October, the annual benefit auction for the Clinic for Special Children was held at the Ammon Glick farm. Sallie and her sisters, as well as Cousin Essie and Mamm, had all pitched in and baked dozens of apple pies and nearly as much cobbler to take to their neighbors’ place.
At the all-day auction, tethered homemade quilts rose high above the optimistic bidders, all of them certain to command a pretty penny.
Several auctioneers, including Perry Zook, chanted their sing-songy words over various farm equipment, woodworking tools, collectibles, furniture, household goods, and homemade heirloom quality baskets. English children and teenagers wandered around the working farm to see the barns and the livestock and experience the Amish way of life.
Sallie would have stayed for the entire day, but she was feeling a bit queasy from snacking on one too many sweets. So she headed home early on foot to Essie’s cottage.
The cats meowed their greetings as she came into the kitchen, and the only tabby, Sweetie Pie, rubbed her side against Sallie’s leg while she poured warm water into a glass and measured in one tablespoon of apple cider vinegar, then mixed it together. It was Mamm’s marvel remedy for stomach upset, one passed down from her mother and her grandmother before her.
Sipping the drink slowly, Sallie went to rest on the sleeping porch with a book on Australia and her Bible.
An hour or so later, Sallie heard footsteps on the walkway and was happy that Essie had also returned early.
Getting up to greet her, Sallie gasped.
Kevin Kreider stood there in khakis and a button-down shirt, his tan all but faded . . . holding a box. “I have a special delivery for Miss Sallie Riehl.” He glanced at the address and gave the box to her.
“What a surprise!” Sallie’s pulse skipped as she accepted the package, which was surely his mother’s handiwork. “Kevin, I can’t believe you hand carried my order all this way.”
“Well, you did say I shouldn’t call you again, but I assumed it was okay to drop by and say hello.” He gave an endearing smile.
Sallie was so
befuddled, she hardly knew how to react.
“By the way, Mom sends her apologies about the delay,” Kevin said, explaining that she had broken her right wrist a week after the craft fair and couldn’t fulfill her orders. “Eventually, Dad helped her by sending postcards to customers.”
Sallie confirmed that she had received hers. “I’m sorry for her injury,” she heard herself saying, caught in a daze. Is Kevin really here?
“Mom’s wrist is healed now, of course.” Kevin pointed to the box. “She hopes you like how everything turned out.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will.” Sallie set it down on the little round table near one of the wicker chairs.
Kevin took a tentative step backward. “Well, I suppose . . .”
“Would ya like to . . . I mean, must ya get goin’?” she asked, wanting very much for him to stay.
He shook his head. “Actually, I hoped we might talk.”
She invited him to join her on the porch, and he chose the chair nearest the steps. Picking up her book, she turned the title side down and sat in the opposite chair, a few feet from him. “I s’pose you’re back at school in Virginia.”
“I’m spending the night with my mother’s Miller cousins up in Bird-in-Hand; then I’ll get an early start in the morning and head back. I really wanted to see you again, Sallie.”
It was easy to smile, hearing those words. “Your mom must’ve given you my address, then?”
He nodded, his eyes searching hers.
Blissful memories filled her head. The way her heart was pounding, Sallie realized her feelings hadn’t changed one speck. She considered the long distance he’d traveled to see her but caught herself, thinking he had likely come to touch base with his Amish cousins, making this stop to see her more convenient.
Don’t read too much into it, she chided herself.
Sallie took her book out of hiding. “Have you ever wanted to see the Great Barrier Reef?”
“Oh yeah.” Kevin reached for it. “I’ve even thought of studying abroad at James Cook University in Queensland, once my master’s degree is behind me.”
As before, she was captivated by his words, his dreams, and his look of determination. They certainly had big hopes, though his were far bigger than hers would ever be.
“I remember when you told me about your interest in Australia,” he said.
Our first day on the beach, she thought.
She mentioned the couple she’d met at market who lived in Cairns and had invited her to visit if she ever made the trip. “It was the first I’d given such a journey a serious thought, though I think we must’ve studied all the continents in fifth grade. Or it could have been sixth.”
They talked for a while about her memories of the one-room Amish school, and how books had grabbed her attention as a child. “’Specially the ones about other lands,” she told him.
When Cousin Essie surprised Sallie by returning from the auction with a sackful of goodies, Kevin was still there visiting. Setting the sack down, Essie accepted his handshake, saying she was pleased to meet him, and glanced at Sallie several times, as if curious about their connection.
Essie left them, heading into the house as the sun began to slip behind the little greenhouses. And Sallie dreaded the forthcoming good-bye now that her time with Kevin was ending.
“Well, I never got to say how much I enjoyed getting to know you this past summer,” he said, standing up.
“It’s real nice seein’ you again, Kevin.”
“Would you mind if I wrote to you now and then?”
She nodded. “I’d like that.”
He brightened. “And you can receive voicemail at the phone shanty, too, right?”
“Sure, it’s not like we live in the sticks, ya know.” She wanted to poke him in fun but quickly decided against it.
He said good-bye and left to walk down Cousin Essie’s long lane to his car. She almost stepped off the porch to go with him, fighting the urge to do so. Even so, it was futile trying to prolong his visit.
Instead, she watched him stroll down the lane until he turned and waved, and she waved back, reliving their exceptional friendship, all of it coming back to her.
How soon before he’ll write?
But his letter wouldn’t arrive any faster if she dwelled on that. She turned back toward the house. There was work to do, as Mamm would say. And too, Frannie’s upcoming wedding meant that for now at least, Sallie would continue to attend the Amish church. So as not to worry Frannie, she had kept quiet about her talk with Dat and her struggles about joining church, wanting to remain in good standing. That way, she could be one of her sister’s wedding attendants, as promised. Oh, what a day that will be!
She slipped to the front room window and saw that Kevin had disappeared from view. As quickly as he’d appeared, he was gone . . . again.
The familiar sadness lingered, like a cloud covering the sun. She hugged herself.
Ach, Sallie, she chided.
47
So you’re saying your friend drove clear from Virginia to deliver a package?” Essie exclaimed, a look of surprise on her face.
“Quite unexpectedly, jah,” Sallie told her.
“All that way?”
Sallie nodded.
“Well, for goodness’ sake, go out there and invite him in for supper!”
“You sure?”
“Go on, now.”
Delighted, Sallie wasted no time rushing out the door and down the steps, thinking surely Kevin was already gone.
But once she reached the road, she could see him checking one of his tires near the tree where he’d parked. He’s still here!
Telling herself to slow down and take a breath, she made her way over to see if he needed help.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Looks like I have a low tire.” Kevin straightened, and there was that smile again. “I have a pump in the trunk, but it will take a while.”
“Maybe my brother Allen can hook up the air compressor to it. Would that work?”
Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Well . . . that would be—”
“And, by the way,” she said, tripping over her words, “Cousin Essie has invited you to stay for supper—that is, if you’re hungry, and even if you’re not, well, you could eat anyways, jah?”
She felt silly. Ach, get a hold of yourself!
As if enjoying her being ferhoodled, Kevin glanced at his tire and patted his stomach. “Hmm . . . my tire or my appetite.” He winked at her. “I’d be honored to eat with you and your cousin.”
“Then I’ll go an’ see what my brother can do ’bout your tire,” she said, hurrying off toward the barn straightaway, lest she put her foot in her mouth again.
With a bit of help from Sallie, in short order, Essie warmed up some leftover ham and fried a batch of potatoes for supper. Kevin remarked on how proficient they were as a cooking duo.
“Essie bought a half dozen homemade buttermilk biscuits at the benefit auction today,” Sallie told Kevin, going to sit at the table with him, offering some apple butter.
“I’d have sooner made them myself, but the Lord knew you’d be comin’ to visit,” Essie said over her shoulder at the gas range.
“Smells terrific,” Kevin said, looking around at the room. “Your kitchen reminds me of my mother’s cousin’s.”
Essie nodded as she wiped her hands on her black work apron. “This little space is just right for Sallie and me.”
“Don’t forget the cats,” Sallie added, ever so thankful to Essie for thinking to invite Kevin.
“Does your family have pets?” Essie asked as she carried the platter of baked ham to the table. She set it down in front of Kevin’s plate, the steam rising.
“My mother enjoys her little lap dog, Titus,” Kevin said.
“Titus?”
Kevin laughed. “A good New Testament name. Maybe you know it means ‘pleasing.’ ”
“Never thought of giving a pet a Bible name,” Sallie s
aid. “But I like it.” She glanced down fondly at Essie’s cats.
When Cousin Essie sat down, they bowed their heads in silent prayer. After the whispered amen, Sallie passed the biscuits to Kevin first, followed by the ham and potatoes.
“A guy could certainly get used to this.” Kevin glanced at Sallie.
“Well, I’m sure your cousin Bekah will have a big spread for you at breakfast tomorrow,” Sallie replied.
“Who’s that?” Essie piped up.
Kevin told her about his mother’s Amish cousin in Bird-in-Hand. “Bekah and her husband, Jacob, are empty nesters now, though they have more grandkids than they can count.”
Sallie smiled and passed the salt and pepper around, then the chow chow that Essie had brought over in a crock.
Kevin was evidently comfortable telling Essie some of what he’d shared with Sallie at the beach regarding his connection to the Amish on his mother’s side. Not surprisingly, talk of Kevin’s Plain connections appeared to interest Cousin Essie, though in time, the conversation moved to his various travels.
Later, Essie served them pumpkin cheesecake, her eyes widening as Kevin continued to tell stories related to his trips. And the way Essie’s gaze switched from Kevin to Sallie, and back again, Sallie wondered if she might not be thinking of Sallie’s own similar inclinations.
Eventually, it was time to say good-bye to Kevin for the second time that day. They stood together on the porch, the harvest moon rising, with Sallie reluctant to see him go. “Truth be told, I’ve been leaning away from church baptism,” she ventured hesitantly. “And spending a lot of time praying ’bout it.”
“This may sound bold, but I’m not too surprised, Sallie,” he replied. “Especially after our conversation in Cape May.”
After we attended church together, she recalled.
Sallie mentioned having spoken with her father. “I really wanted his advice . . . his wisdom. Amish baptism is such a huge step, after all.”
“Momentous,” Kevin agreed, looking very serious.
“I haven’t decided for sure yet,” she said to make it clear.
They discussed further the pressure she felt to keep the promise to Mamm, and Kevin gently indicated it would be far better to break the promise to her mother than a vow to God later.
The Ebb Tide Page 24