Missing Your Smile

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Missing Your Smile Page 2

by Jerry S. Eicher


  “We decided to come back this year, just the two of us,” the wife said. “And it’s a full moon tonight. You ought to go and watch it rise yourself. There’s something special about the light on the water, almost like heaven opens up its gates for just a few minutes and lets us see inside.”

  “We’re a little religious,” the man said, bobbing his head. “Hope that doesn’t offend you.”

  “Oh, not at all,” Susan said, adding tomato to the sandwich. “I’m glad you told me that. I’ve never watched the moon come up over the ocean before.”

  “Are you a farm girl?” he asked.

  “Yah…” Susan felt the red run up her neck.

  “I thought so,” he said, reaching for the sandwich.

  “Oh, the sandwich,” Susan said, handing it to him. “I’m sorry. I was distracted for a moment.”

  “Thanks for listening,” the wife said. “It was good to talk to you.”

  They nodded and moved toward Laura. The man handed the sandwich to his wife before pulling out his billfold. Susan noticed it was worn and well used, the leather scuffed and even broken in spots. His fingers trembled as he extracted the bills.

  “Nice talking to you,” he said, with a backward glance. Susan nodded, and they moved down the street. The woman hung onto his arm, and he slipped his hand around her waist. They disappeared into the throng.

  “A nice couple,” Laura said. “The salt of the earth type. You handled them well. You’re a good listener. You’d make a good counselor. People warm up to you and spill their secrets.”

  “No,” Susan said with a nervous laugh. “They probably needed someone to talk to at the moment. Besides, I couldn’t be a professional counselor. I only have an eighth grade education.”

  Laura raised her eyebrows. “You dropped out? That’s too bad. You really need to finish school if you want to make a go of things. I know you like the job at the bakery, but there’s more of the world out there than what I can offer. And you need an education for it. How old are you? Twenty? I can’t remember what you told me.”

  “A little more than that.”

  “Well, I know a woman doesn’t like to give her age. But you do look twenty or less. It must be the farm life.”

  Susan took a deep breath. “I’m not a dropout. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

  “So what do you call it then? Is there an Amish word for skipping school?”

  “An eighth-grade education—that’s all they give us.”

  “Around here it’s called dropping out. It’s also a little more serious. Really, Susan, you ought to look into completing your schooling. You could take your GED test; study for it in your spare time. You could go from there once you passed. I might even be able to convince Robby to drive you to the community college for night classes.”

  “You’ve already been more than kind,” Susan said. “But really…I don’t know about more schooling. It’s not well looked upon by the community.”

  “Oh. It’s our choice, though, what each of us chooses to do with our lives,” Laura said. “And you don’t have to talk to me about your past or what you’re running from. I’m more than willing to help you get on your feet again. I don’t think the Amish community has much say in our world, do they?”

  “No,” Susan said, her eyes searching the mass of people on the street. “The community’s eyes are hard to get away from though. It’s not easy.”

  “I suppose not,” Laura said. “But I’ll do what I can to help. Someone once helped me when I was young and trying to start over.”

  “I appreciate it more than you know,” Susan said. “I’m sure you’ve wondered why I’m here.” It was the opening Susan felt she had to give her employer. Laura deserved to be told more than what she’d confided already. Laura didn’t have to give her a job. Sure, Laura’s sister had given her a recommendation, but that didn’t mean Laura had to hire her…or rent her the little apartment above the bakery.

  Laura smiled. “No, I don’t need to know, Susan. I remember what it was like trying to get a fresh foothold. Bonnie assured me you’d be a good worker, and you have been. I don’t want to pry. I’m just glad I can help.”

  “I was seeing a boy. For a few years…” Susan said in spite of Laura’s words. “I loved him a lot.”

  “Yes?” Laura encouraged, her voice sympathetic.

  “Then he fell head over heels for my best friend, Eunice,” Susan continued, keeping her eyes on the street. “I caught them kissing each other one Sunday night when I walked out to ride home with him.”

  “Lord, help us all.” Laura sighed. “So that’s the big dark secret. Here I thought—my sister not withstanding—that you might be a murderess running from the law. Thank goodness I followed my instincts and not my fears.”

  “You didn’t really think…?”

  “Of course not, dear. It was a joke.”

  “I’m so sorry. It’s just that, well I had to get away from the situation.”

  “So why Asbury Park?”

  Susan shrugged. “I worked for your sister and really liked her. After the…situation…happened, I confided in her. She suggested I come here if I wanted to start over. I thought about it, and it seemed like a good idea. I couldn’t stay at home anymore. I couldn’t bear to see Thomas. The more Bonnie told me about Asbury Park, the more I thought the place sounded good—the city, the possibility of a job, the ocean nearby. Then Bonnie called you, and you said yes to interviewing and possibly hiring me.”

  “Bonnie didn’t tell me all that, but I guess people make big life decisions for even lesser reasons. Sorry to hear about the boyfriend. So you were in love with him?”

  “More than I wish I had been.”

  “Is he dating this Eunice now?”

  “I don’t know,” Susan said.

  “He won’t be showing up here some dark night looking for you?”

  Susan’s eyes got big.

  “I’m kidding again!” Laura laughed.

  Susan smiled. “No, I doubt Thomas would ever do that.”

  “He must have been something,” Laura said. “Really, for a girl to uproot her whole life to get away. But you shouldn’t feel alone. Others have gone through the same thing and thought the same things. I’ll be here to help you through this if you need me.”

  “I don’t want to be a bother. Really I don’t.”

  “I know you don’t. And you’re not, dear. Trust me on that.”

  “I’m not going back to Indiana anytime soon.” Susan turned to meet Laura’s gaze.

  “Then on to your new life in Asbury Park,” Laura said. “And here comes someone for a sandwich, so I think we’d best stop gabbing.”

  “Hello,” Susan said as she turned to face a young man. “Can I help you?”

  It is the right thing to do, she told herself, the staying in Asbury Park. It’s the perfect place to start over. She had been certain since the night she arrived.

  “A sandwich with all the trimmings,” the young man in front of her said.

  “White or wheat bread?”

  “That would be white, please.” He smiled. “White bread goes down easier.”

  “I suppose so,” Susan said, returning his smile.

  I really need to stop thinking about boys, Susan thought. But how does a person do that in the Englisha world? Is merely talking with a nice boy okay? The rules seem scarce out here.

  She sliced the bread, feeling the boy’s eyes on her face. He seemed decent, but she was obviously not a good judge of such things. She had thought the best about Thomas—and what a mistake that had been. She had believed him when he said their love was a pure one, placed in their hearts by God. He had called it a sanctified love.

  Ha! She trembled to think that it was so sanctified as to be cast aside and trampled underfoot when his heart longed for someone else. How stupid she had been. What was it the preachers talked about Sunday morning in church? The stories of people who cast pearls in front of swine. Well, one thing was for
sure—she would never look for love again. Not among her own people, at least. Thomas had cured her of that.

  “Thank you,” the boy in front of her said when she handed him the sandwich. He turned to pay Laura, pulling out his billfold. It was shiny, the leather new, and even the bills inside seemed pressed and crisp.

  Like my new start in life. It will be much better this way, she thought, watching him disappear into the crowd.

  “Things should wrap up soon around here,” Laura said.

  “The festival goes until seven, doesn’t it?” Susan asked.

  “Yes, but there won’t be much call for sandwiches from now till closing time. People will start drifting into the restaurants for supper.”

  “You have to stay open though.”

  “But not you,” Laura said with a firm look. “Robby will be here by five. We can handle things, including cleanup.”

  “But I can stay, really.”

  “Thirty more minutes and then you’re gone,” Laura said. “Take some time to walk the festival or whatever else you wish to do. After all, it’s your first time, and Asbury Park is at its finest during the festival.”

  “I guess it would be nice to have some time off. Perhaps I can walk out to the ocean,” Susan said.

  A man approached and, after a brief look at the menu, said, “Two roast beefs.” A woman, obviously his wife, came up beside him.

  “White or wheat?” Susan asked. “And what would you like on it?”

  “White,” the man said. “And we’ll take just the roast beef and salad dressing. Nothing else.”

  Susan watched them out of the corner of her eye, as she sliced the meat. They didn’t look happy—not like the earlier couple. Was it the farm perhaps that created love between people? Were these city people? Did love perhaps not grow in the city? They did look like city people—the man’s blue-checkered shirt freshly ironed, the woman in black dress slacks.

  She spread the salad dressing, glancing at them as she worked.

  “That’s too much dressing.” The man’s voice was sharp. “You’ll choke us to death, not to mention what will happen to our arteries.”

  “Lettuce helps the arteries—and the rest of the body,” Susan said, forcing a smile. “Shall I put on a few pieces?”

  “What are you, a dietitian? Just take most of the salad dressing off.”

  Susan removed most of the salad dressing, scraping it with her knife. She shook the residue into the wastebasket.

  “Are you two from a farm?” she asked casually.

  The man stiffened.

  The woman with him laughed, punching the man in the ribs.

  “There you go, Herbert. So much for incognito. The young lady sees right through your disguise.”

  The man snorted. “We can’t even get into town for a day without someone smelling the barnyard on us.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean that,” Susan said. “I come from a farm myself.”

  The woman laughed. “We’re dairy farmers, dear. And thanks for popping Herbert’s bubble. I told him we didn’t need to spiff up, that we might as well come in our regular farm clothing.”

  “Right!” he snorted, reaching for the sandwiches.

  Susan pushed them across the counter, and he grabbed them with both hands. Callused hands, now that she looked.

  “Sorry, I asked,” she said. “I meant no harm.”

  “Don’t you worry, dear,” the woman said. “It was good for him.”

  “You do keep life interesting,” Laura said, as the couple left. “I don’t think Asbury Park’s had an Oyster Festival quite like this one before.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend him,” Susan said. “The question just came out.”

  “You’re doing fine.” Laura patted her on the arm.

  “It’s the clumsy Amish in me.” Susan’s voice quivered. “I intend to get rid of all my Amishness.”

  “Now why would you want to do something like that?” Laura asked. “It’s kind of cute, if you ask me.”

  “I’m getting rid of it exactly for that reason.” Susan clipped off the words. “I don’t want to be cute anymore. I don’t want to be taken advantage of and have my heart pulled out by its roots.”

  “That boy must have been some heartbreaker,” Laura said, shaking her head. “Can’t say I blame you though. But don’t go trying to change too much of yourself. We need all kinds in the world, even the Amish. They are good people.”

  “I’m going to change!” Susan snapped. “Whatever it takes, whatever it costs. It will be worth it. And I don’t want to ever see Thomas again.”

  “Isn’t that a little violent? I thought you people were the nonviolent type? Like Martin Luther King.”

  “We are—except when it comes to matters of the heart. Then you can have it torn out by the roots.”

  “Well,” Laura said, “it’s not the first time a girl’s heart has been broken. Take things a little easy, and don’t be too hard on yourself. It could have been worse. You could have married the guy and found out all of this afterward.”

  Susan drew in her breath at the words.

  “Now here comes Robby,” Laura said. “So I guess you can go. Enjoy yourself for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll see you at the bakery tomorrow at five, as usual. Bright and early.”

  “Even that’s Amish,” Susan muttered.

  Her comment produced another laugh from Laura.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Susan took off her apron, folded it, and waited as Robby swung his legs over the side of the concession stand and stood before her, brushing loose strands of his shoulder-length hair away from his eyes. He was a tease, this boy. Almost a pest if he weren’t so funny. The best approach, she had learned, was to fire back at any provocation.

  “Don’t tell me you’re leaving already,” he chided.

  “Your mom said I could quit early,” Susan said. “You have any objections?”

  “No, of course not.” Robby glanced up and down the street. “How has business been?”

  “What, you think I scared people off?” Susan teased.

  “What’s into her?” Robby glanced at his mother. “Have you not fed her today?”

  Laura laughed and said, “You two, calm down. Business has been a little slow this afternoon, but there were long lines all morning. Most of the baked goods were gone before twelve. We should have brought more, but you never know.”

  “Well, I’m here now,” Robby said. “And the fort is under control.”

  “Ignore him,” Laura said. “And go. We can take care of things.”

  Susan opened the small gate in the front of the stand and stepped out into the street.

  “Don’t spend all your money on candy,” Robby hollered after her.

  Susan ignored him and walked on. Robby’s heart was in the right place, just like his mamm’s and daett’s hearts were. Da Hah had shown much grace in leading her to this Englisha family, there was no doubt about that. And here she was with the same Da Hah guiding her in the Englisha world who was even at this moment guiding her mamm and daett back in the community. This was not an easy thing to believe, but it was true. Da Hah was helping her adjust.

  “What are you doing tonight?” Robby hollered louder, and Susan gave him a backward wave without turning around. She quickened her pace down Cookman Avenue. Perhaps I’m deceived about Da Hah’s help, Susan thought, remembering what Deacon Ray had said so many times at church services. No doubt if he were here, he’d tell her she couldn’t tell the difference between right and wrong anymore. She shivered at the thought.

  Where was her coat, now that evening was coming on? She should have brought it, but it was still hanging in the closet at the apartment. Well, she would make do for now. Besides, the coat looked quite Amish. Even with Deacon Ray haunting her memory, the time had definitely arrived to change some things: including a new coat and some proper Englisha clothing.

  But now there was supper to think of. She could have prepared a sandwich before leaving the st
and, but roast beef turned her stomach after seeing and smelling it all day.

  The bustle of the crowd grew thicker the further she walked. People were bumping into each other, almost pushing to get through. Susan hesitated, dashing in between people when there was a chance, standing tightly against the buildings when there wasn’t. She noticed a set of concrete steps and climbed them. They didn’t lead anywhere but to a small landing overlooking the street. That was enough. She had to get out of the crowd to catch her breath. Susan paused on the landing and looked up and down the street. How different the city was from home. Beautiful in its own way, painted with splashes of color from the people in the crowded street adding charm to the varied architecture of the buildings. Is this what I really want? Can this become home? “It’s worth a try,” she said out loud. She traced her steps back down to the street, turning sideways to enter the crowd between two women. Who said being Amish was the right thing anyway? Perhaps Thomas’s crush on her best friend had been exactly what she needed. The push to get her thinking correctly. Otherwise she would have turned out like all the other women she knew—married with children running around her feet. Spending her days with diapers flooding the wash bucket and hanging them outdoors to flap in the wind.

  But here in Asbury Park…this was a brand-new world, wide open with possibilities. Let the Amish visit Asbury Park if they wished; let them remind her of what she had left behind. She would not turn back.

  Thomas is already becoming a distant memory, is he not? Susan pressed against the side of a high building, feeling the concrete stucco dig into her back. Three huge, rough-looking men with tattoos walked by, their laughs at some private joke rumbling as they disappeared into the crowd.

  Susan stared after them for a moment. It was to be expected that there would be such men in the Englisha world, but thankfully there were others too. Men who were kind, gentle to their girlfriends, educated, mysterious, and wise in ways an Amish boy couldn’t even imagine.

 

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