by Kate Lloyd
“Do you ever run into him?”
“Occasionally, but we don’t do more than say hi and then go our separate ways.”
“Why are you so dead set against Jake?”
“I’m not, but I found the way he’s treated his parents disgraceful. Not to mention leaving you dangling on a string. You can do better.”
“He says he wants to marry me.” Speaking the words made me feel helpless and immature, as if I were still being manipulated. “He may even join the church. But Harvey told us the bishops would have to wait until they see a real commitment.”
“And what do you want?”
“Me?” My mind floundered for an intelligent response. “I want Minnie to keep me company tonight.”
“Okay. Maybe dogs really are a woman’s best friend.”
FORTY-ONE
With Minnie on leash, I coaxed her into my cabin with a small plastic bag Beatrice had filled with chopped ham. I knew I was both Rose and Beatrice’s surrogate, a temporary owner for the night, but I got the feeling the terrier liked me even without the tidbits. At this moment I needed all the friends I could get.
I slipped into my nightgown and then between the chilly sheets. As I opened my book, Minnie hopped on the end of the bed as if she knew she had a job. I probably interpreted too much from her actions, but I appreciated her company.
My lids drooping before I got started, I shut the book and set it aside. The two younger lovers in the novel didn’t resemble Jake and me. And yet every love story made me think of him.
I dozed off and awoke when Minnie expelled a low growl. I assured myself a raccoon was rummaging around near my door. But Minnie jumped off the bed and yapped.
A knock-knock-knock on the door made her bark. I put on my bathrobe and tiptoed to the door to hear my cousin Olivia’s voice. “Evie, it’s me. Please let me in.”
Much as I wanted to see her, I said, “I can’t. I promised Beatrice I wouldn’t open this door to anyone.”
“Please let me come in, Evie. Am I not your cousin and best friend anymore?”
“I could lose my job.” But I couldn’t ignore her plaintive voice. I cracked the door enough to see she’d cut her hair and was dressed Englisch.
I scooped up Minnie so she wouldn’t escape. “What are you doing here, Liv?” Not a warm welcome, but I was in shock, plus I feared I was jeopardizing my livelihood. Yet she wasn’t a stranger or even a man, so what could Beatrice complain about?
Olivia squeezed her way inside. I closed the door behind her and set Minnie on the floor.
“What do you think?” Olivia twirled and fluffed her fingers through her short, highlighted hair. “Like it? I just step out of the shower, shake my head, and it’s dry. Then I add a little hair product that smells so good.” She was dressed in jeans and a purple knit jacket. And she was also wearing perfume.
“What have you done to your beautiful hair?” I sounded judgmental and critical, everything I abhorred.
“I donated it to a charity in Florida that makes wigs for children who go bald for whatever reason. ‘Locks of Love.’ Isn’t that cool?”
“But your hair. You cut your beautiful hair.”
“That’s what my boyfriend said. He was not pleased because he thinks I should have gotten paid for it.”
“Money is not my issue, Liv. It’s against the Ordnung. Women must never cut their hair. In the Bible, it says a woman’s hair is her glory, doesn’t it? And you pierced your ears?”
She fingered her silver earrings. “Aren’t they darling?”
She still looked cute, but like another person without her hair parted in the middle and covered with a kapp.
“Who cut and colored your hair?” I asked.
“A girl I met who works in a beauty salon.”
“A beautician styled it that way, all spiky and uneven?”
“I asked her to highlight it with lavender too, and I love it.” Gazing at her image in my mirror, she flashed a smile at herself. “When the beautician told everyone at the salon where my hair was being donated, all the other women clapped.”
I supposed Olivia had performed a generous act, but I couldn’t support it.
She fluffed her coif. “Don’t worry so much. It’ll grow back. I thought you’d be proud of me.”
“Have your parents seen it?”
“Ach, you should have heard my mamm when she came into the restaurant where I’m working. Plus, I was carrying a tray of alcoholic beverages.”
“You’ve started drinking too?” I must have sounded as flabbergasted as her mother had been.
“No, just carrying them to customers. Part of my job.” Her voice turned sour. “I thought of all my friends, surely you wouldn’t condemn me. But you’re as bad as all the rest.”
“I’m just surprised.” To put it mildly.
“No, you’re judging me. And here I thought I’d invite you to visit me where we’re living in New Holland.”
“An apartment?”
“Yes. In an old woman’s basement. You want to come see it right now? I borrowed her car in exchange for going to the supermarket for groceries.”
“I don’t think I should.”
“Because?” Olivia asked with a snarl in her voice.
“It’s too late, and it’s too far away. I have to get up early. And I’m taking care of Minnie.” The dog perked her ears and wagged her stubby tail at the sound of her name.
“Jake could drive you another time. Or I’ll come fetch you in a friend’s car.”
“You know how to drive?”
“Yes, I have for years. So come on right now. It’ll be fun. Aren’t you bored in this little cabin with no TV?”
“Liv, I don’t want to be caught in the middle.” I was curious, but I was already labeled a deceiver. “I don’t want to have to fib if someone asks about you. It’s better I don’t know anything.”
“At least come by the place where I work someday. My shift runs from afternoon to evening.”
I recalled Stephen’s disclosing he avoided places that served liquor. “I’d better not.”
“What happened to my adventuresome cousin I always looked up to?”
“I got too old to live in the land of uncertainty.”
“But nothing in life is for certain, Evie. I could get killed driving home tonight.”
“Ach, don’t even say that, Liv.”
“No worries. I bet I drive as well as Jake.” She stepped closer and asked, “Is this the beginning of the end of our friendship?”
“I don’t want it to be.” But I also felt our bond disintegrating.
“You’ll only talk to me if I leave Butch and move home? Ach, I told you his name.” She slumped down in the recliner. “I might as well tell you. We’re thinking of moving to Philly soon.”
“But why?”
“Butch landed a better job. And he has friends there. He says living in Lancaster County is a drag.”
“But what will you do? Where will you live?”
“We haven’t figured that out yet. Philadelphia isn’t so far away. You can still visit us. Take the bus.”
“Are you sure you want to move to a big city?” I felt a gulf opening between us.
“Why not? It’ll be exciting. Come with us.”
“And leave my new job? No way.”
She sprang to her feet. “This was my job.”
“Yah, I know. What are you saying? That you’ll want it back if you don’t like living Englisch?”
“I might if something goes wrong with me and Butch. And working in Englisch restaurants is no fun. Did you know Glenn and I have been friends for years and years? In fact, the café’s design was my idea, koi pond and all.”
“But I’m all settled in. I love working and living here.”
“But what would I do if I decided to come home and my parents wouldn’t let me in the house looking like this? Plus, I’d have nowhere to work.”
“I wish you’d thought of all that before you cut your hair.”
Although I felt sorry for her, I would not let her bamboozle me.
“I can’t believe you’d turn on me, your own flesh and blood.”
“Likewise, Olivia.” I felt tears pressing at the backs of my eyes, but I stood tall, shoulders erect. “We’d still buy your baked goods if needed. We have a lovely girl doing the baking here now, but you never know. She may eventually get married.”
Olivia glowered. “Don’t worry about my darkening your door ever again. If I have business with this nursery, I’ll go directly to the owner.”
She spun away without saying goodbye and slammed the door behind her. I figured wounded feelings were guiding her tongue, but I felt a searing pain, as though a limb had been severed.
At sunup, Minnie groaned and sniffed the air.
“I should have brought you breakfast, little one,” I told her.
I checked out the window and saw lights illuminating the main house’s kitchen. I freshened up and dove into clothes. By this time, Minnie was pawing at the door and whining to get out. When I snapped on her leash and opened the door, she tugged me outside. After relieving herself, she dragged me to the main house’s door just as Beatrice opened it.
“Buongiorno, ragazze,” she said. “Good morning, girls. Come in.”
Minnie yipped as Missy and Heath sniffed her over, no doubt detecting trace aromas of ham. Beatrice filled the dogs’ three food dishes, and their jaws chomped into the kibble with gusto, as if they hadn’t eaten for weeks.
“How about some coffee?” Beatrice asked me. Before I could answer, she was filling a cup. “If it’s too strong, I have cream or milk.” She set out a small carton of cream.
“This is perfect.” I dribbled in some cream and delighted in the roasted, bitter taste. “I was glad to have Minnie with me last night.”
“Yes, she’s a good little watchdog.”
“She would have let me know if a prowler was lurking about.”
“Che strano—how strange—my bedroom window was open. And I thought I heard a woman’s voice.”
“I did have an uninvited female visitor, but I promised not to tell anyone.”
Beatrice wagged her finger. “Never mind fretting. I recognized Olivia’s voice right away. And I got a look at her hair.”
I envisioned Beatrice tiptoeing down to the kitchen to watch and straining to listen to our conversation.
“It sounded as though you were arguing. I’ve never heard Olivia raise her voice.”
“Me neither.” I covered my blabbing mouth. I was tempted to tell her everything. That Olivia had threatened to steal my job if she needed it, and probably live in my cabin. Beatrice might know what Glenn’s reaction would be. I was aching to tell her all about Olivia’s threats, but I mustn’t become a gossip like those who had plagued me.
“Her hairdo was atrocious.” Beatrice pulled out a hairpin and adjusted her bun. “Hideous. Why would a lovely young woman do such a thing?”
“She said it was for a good cause, but I’ve promised not to speak of it.” I sipped my coffee to keep myself from tattling more. “I mustn’t gossip.”
“Telling the truth isn’t gossiping.”
“It seems a fine line.” I had to hold my ground.
She reinserted the hairpin. “I certainly hope you weren’t arguing over a man.”
“No, although don’t men creep into most every conversation?” I needed to steer our discussion in a different direction. “I was very careful to keep Minnie inside.”
“That’s good, but I don’t think our little Minnie would run off. She misses Rose too much.”
I felt the air leaking out of my balloon. The fact that Minnie was devoted to Rose while the pooch barely knew me made me feel deflated. Well, what did I expect? I reminded myself I didn’t even like dogs. Not most of them, anyway. But I did love my cousin Olivia. And I’d thought she loved me.
The rest of the day whizzed by like a roller-coaster ride at a carnival, with twists and turns on rough tracks.
Our bread delivery was late. “Sorry, folks. Transmission problems,” Scott said. “I had to swap out vans. And no rye bread today.”
I tried to support him. “I’m sure it couldn’t be helped.” And yet my confidence in motorized vehicles had diminished.
Minutes later, three Englisch women brought five youngsters under school age into the café. The unruly children fussed and squirmed and ran around swiping saltshakers off the tables, but the women paid no attention. When the children became fascinated with the koi in the pond, I gave them a little bit of food to sprinkle on the water’s surface. But the oldest child grabbed the container and tossed the contents into the fountain.
The flashy six-inch fish, tame and hungry, slammed to the surface and gobbled up the pellets. The children were fascinated and delighted but then turned surly again when I told them that’s all the fish food I could give them. “We can’t feed them too much at a time,” I tried to explain, but I was met with frowns and the stomping of feet. Even their mothers glared at me.
Stephen and Mark chose that moment to enter the café. I was sorely tempted to tell them this situation was not my fault. Those youngsters were misbehaving and should know better. But this statement would conflict with the notion that the customer was always right.
As I brought out crayons and paper to entertain the children, one of the boys tripped and knocked over a potted palm. The four-foot-tall tree plummeted to the floor, and its dirt scattered everywhere.
The boy yowled, and one of the women rushed over to console him. But she didn’t offer to clean up the mess or pay for the palm. She glowered at me as if I could’ve prevented the accident.
“This place isn’t child friendly,” she said to her friends in a huff. “Let’s go somewhere else.” The remaining women jolted to their feet and gathered their belongings. The other customers all gave one another a knowing look, as if the children’s unruly behavior had interfered with their peaceful interlude.
Broom and dustpan in hand, Beatrice came up behind me as the women were leaving, children in tow. “Whatever you do, don’t tell them to come back again soon.”
I tried to take the broom, but she insisted she’d get assistance repotting the palm.
“Here, Beatrice, let me help you.” Mark stepped forward and took hold of the broom. Behind him trailed a younger Amish laborer, already scooping up the palm and the debris.
“Thanks, Mark,” Beatrice said.
Mark aimed his words at me. “This café may be open to the public, but you don’t have to put up with such hooligans.”
“It wasn’t Eva’s fault,” Beatrice said. “Was she ever instructed on how to handle situations like this?”
“Should we put up a sign saying, No obnoxious, out-of-control children allowed?” Stephen gave Mark’s shoulder a slap.
“Not such a bad idea.” Beatrice chortled into her hand.
Minutes after the floor was swept and mopped, a customer dropped a ceramic mug full of coffee, its contents and shards scattering across the newly cleaned surface. This was apparently going to be a trying day.
“Maybe God is warning me not to go to the Millers’ tonight,” I whispered to Beatrice.
“Don’t be silly.” Beatrice grabbed a mop and commenced gathering the broken pieces into a pile. “We have accidents and mishaps every other day. If you want the Lord’s protection and guidance, ask for it.”
She was right. Just a couple of days ago, Sadie had spilled a bottle of olive oil, and I didn’t bat an eye. My own apprehension was the catalyst for my anxiety.
As the day and customers waned, Beatrice, Stephen, and I stood outside the café’s front door to enjoy the fresh air, alive with the aromas of spring blooms. And for privacy.
“Are you still driving us over to the Millers’ tonight?” Beatrice asked Stephen.
“Yes, I’ll stick around after work. There’s always something to keep me occupied. You two let me know when you’re ready.”
Several hours later, getting into
Stephen’s pickup, I encouraged Beatrice to sit in the center of the bench seat. But she refused, saying the pickup was too hard to climb into and then scoot all the way to the middle.
Minutes later, I was sandwiched between Stephen and Beatrice, and we were on the road. A chiming sound repeated itself.
Stephen leaned in front of me to speak to Beatrice. “Please fasten your seat belt.”
“Sorry.” She clipped it on and then spoke past me to Stephen. “Thanks so much for this ride. I hope you behave yourself.”
“You mean if Jake antagonizes me?” His face was too close to mine for comfort.
“I doubt he will, but yes,” she said. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
Stephen let out a resounding breath. “I promise to ignore Jake if he’s there. Let’s hope he isn’t. Or he’s busy with chores.”
“Thank you.” Beatrice folded her hands in her lap. “Ruth and Amos don’t need hostile conversations.”
On the drive over, I pondered how much I cared for Amos and Ruth, as if they were family. No matter if Jake deserted them and me, I would continue to visit. If Brandy didn’t mind and make a fuss. She might be a hindrance, to say the least. Or maybe a blessing to them.
“I hope Jake doesn’t think you’re running after him,” Beatrice told me. In front of Stephen, no less. I was mortified.
He turned to me. “I’m not chauffeuring Evie all the way over there so she can flaunt herself at Jake.” Stephen lowered his mouth toward my ear. “Let me share a little secret. Men are most intrigued by what they can’t have.”
Chasing after Jake had never worked in the past, that was the truth. I looked up to see what Stephen was getting at, but he changed the subject. “I heard some women in the retail shop talking about Olivia. Guess one of them saw her at the grocery store last night. According to this woman—and she’s a good customer—Olivia’s hair is lopped short and styled in an unsightly way. The woman said she couldn’t believe the total transformation. She claimed she spoke to Olivia, who seemed pleased as punch with herself, as she put it.”
Beatrice remained silent and stared out the window as we passed a buggy. I imagined the wheels in her head were churning and whirling like the buggy’s, but she kept her thoughts to herself.