Missing Your Smile

by Jerry S. Eicher

  The women moved toward a table as the man Susan had been speaking to got up and left. Not even a backward glance, Susan noted. But why should I care? Perhaps he is the kidnapper mentioned on the front page of the paper. That would make perfect sense given the success she had with men.

  Laura and Susan waited on more customers. During a lull, Susan asked, “Who was that man who came in first this morning? He said he knew you.”

  “Duane Moran. He works down the street at H&R Block. He handles our taxes. I think he was away at a seminar last week—IRS updates on tax law, that sort of thing.”

  “Oh,” Susan said.

  What exactly is a tax person? she wondered. At least he wasn’t a kidnapper.

  “Duane’s a really nice fellow,” Laura said.

  “He did mention the headlines with what happened over the weekend. He seemed concerned about us.”

  “What happened?” Laura asked. She reached for the paper. As she read, she sighed. “This is absolutely awful. And the missing girl was last seen on Cookman Avenue the first night of the festival.”

  “I hadn’t read that,” Susan said. “But perhaps they’ll find her soon.” So much for Robby’s assurances on how safe Asbury Park was.

  “Perhaps,” Laura was saying. “One thing for sure. You will need to take precautions for a while. We all will.”

  “That’s what Mister…Mister whatever you said his name was said.”

  “Duane. Yes. He would say something like that. And it is a good warning.”

  Susan nodded. “I hope they find the woman. As for me, I think God will protect me even in the big city. That’s what our people believe.”

  Laura was silent for a moment, but then she said, “Yes, but there’s no sense in taking chances, Susan. So don’t take any.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Susan said. “But I’m not going to be scared home this easily. I need to stay.”

  “I didn’t mean anything about going home, but perhaps you could move in with us for a while if being alone here scares you.”

  Susan shook her head. “Thanks, but I like it here. I even like living alone. So unless it gets really dangerous, I would like to stay in the apartment.”

  “Okay,” Laura said. “Suit yourself, but do be careful.”

  Susan nodded and turned to greet a teenage girl entering the front door. “Can I help you?”

  “A small coffee, please, ma’am.”

  Susan poured the coffee and said, “Laura will take your money.”

  “Okay.”

  As the girl turned toward the register counter, Susan noticed that she was obviously pregnant. And quite well along. She also noticed the girl’s dress was wrinkled and dirty. Susan glanced away. This really wasn’t her business.

  The girl looked back to Susan and smiled as she handed Laura the money, dropping a quarter in the process.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” The girl bent over to chase the coin underneath the counter. She was breathing hard when she stood up.

  “I’ll help you with your coffee.” Susan stepped out from behind the counter.

  “That would be very nice of you, ma’am,” the girl said. “I am a little heavy, as you can see.”

  “Yah, I do see,” Susan said. “Is your baby coming soon?”

  “I think so,” the girl said, sounding uncertain.

  Susan almost asked her another question but thought better of it. The girl was trying to smile, but she looked very uncomfortable. Susan noticed the girl’s eyes had grown moist as she took a table facing the counter. Susan felt the girl’s eyes on her the whole time she worked. Is something wrong? Susan wondered. What is it about me that’s captured her attention?

  When the girl finished, she walked over to where Susan was standing behind the counter.

  “I thank you very much,” the girl said. “That was good.”

  “Maybe we’ll see some more of you,” Susan said. “You’re always welcome back.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” the girl said, her eyes moist again. “I think I will be back.” With that, the girl smiled, ducked her head, and left.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Thomas Stoll stood looking out the tall windows of his father’s cabinet shop, his eyes sweeping over the fertile farmland. Southern Indiana was that way. An Amish farmer here could make a gut living at most anything he tried his hand at. It was cabinet work that was hard to make a good living at, removed as they were from the big cities.

  The little town of Salem thought well of itself but produced few new homes or remodeling jobs. Daett refused to advertise widely, placing only a small sign out by the side of the gravel road and an even smaller one out on Highway 337, as if that made any sense. He wouldn’t even put “Amish” above the name. They just read “Cabinet shop,” as if that alone would attract interest.

  When would this ever end? Was his life to be spent from grade school to the grave toiling in his father’s cabinet shop, keeping the business open, sending cabinets out the door one after another? Sure the work kept a little money in the bank, but working inside was nothing compared to the feeling of working his own land—land like so many others in the community had. Thomas surveyed the open fields, allowing the fantasy of his own farm to flow through his mind.

  With a farm there would be fields of corn in the summer. Corn which gave enough to fill a towering silo. There would be waves of golden wheat in the fall growing next to green pasture grass. There would be cows—a herd of twenty or so, hanging around the barn, their udders sagging with milk. There would be a hay wagon to drive down the dirt roads. And all the while, the glorious feeling of being closer to the earth, to Da Hah, to life itself.

  In his fantasy, Thomas could see himself able to afford a gut horse at the sale barn. A driving horse who could pass buggies coming home on Sunday nights from the hymn singing. Instead he had to drive Freddy, his slow gelding around and watch as other buggies passed him, pulled by fast horses purchased with farm money.

  Sure, Freddy was okay, and he shouldn’t be complaining. Daett would be horrified at his unthankfulness. Daett always said Da Hah gave and Da Hah took, and one did not ask questions. Freddy was a decent horse and not that old. He never shied on the road or jumped fences in the barnyard, but a good trot was the limit of his preferable speed.

  Thomas’s thoughts turned to Susan. He remembered how she had never complained about Freddy’s slowness the many times he’d taken her home on Sunday nights. Thomas sighed as he ran sandpaper over the grainy walnut wood. He was twenty-one now and on his own. He was old enough to buy what he wanted, but a fast horse wouldn’t be a wise investment on the limited income from the cabinet shop. Especially if he hoped to marry soon. Sure, he could put his money into the purchase of a farm, but farming was difficult work to learn if a person hadn’t been raised on one. He needed someone to teach him.

  Was that why he was drawn to Susan? The thought turned inside him, but he pushed it away. It was not a fair question. Since grade school he had loved Susan, and there had been no thought of a farm back then. Only lately had it dawned on him what would happen after their marriage. He would be moving onto her family farm. If there had been any doubt about the matter, Susan’s father, Menno, had alluded to the fact last Thanksgiving over the noon meal.

  “We are hoping you’ll be up to taking the farm over soon. After the wedding of course,” Menno had said. They had all laughed at the hurried reference to the wedding.

  Susan had looked at him, happiness written on her face.

  “It’s a nice farm,” Susan whispered in his ear later. They had held hands that night on the couch and talked far into the night after the others were in bed.

  “I don’t know anything about farming. I’m a cabinetmaker,” he said.

  “You can learn. Don’t you want to be a farmer, Thomas?”

  “Of course I do. I’ve just never had the chance.”

  “Then the chance will be coming your way soon,” she said, her fingers tracing his face. “I know you’ll ma
ke a gut farmer. As good as what Daett is himself.”

  But that was then. Where is Susan now? Living somewhere in New Jersey. That was the word passed around in the community. He didn’t dare ask Menno or Anna. They might be on Susan’s side after his foolish actions. The thing with Susan had gone badly enough, and he wouldn’t risk more by seeming to use them to pressure their daughter.

  What in the world had come over him anyway? A few minutes of talking outside in the shadows of Emery Yoder’s house, and he had given in to the sudden urge to kiss Eunice. And Susan had caught him in the act! Their future life together was over. He sighed again.

  Yah, what Susan blamed him for had happened, but it wasn’t as bad as Susan claimed. Yah, Susan’s friend Eunice was impressive, and he had fallen hard for her. But it was not supposed to mean anything. Certainly it was not meant to break off the relationship he had with Susan. Even if Eunice liked him in return.

  Thomas laughed. According to Susan’s version of things, he ought to be seeing Eunice now. But what a joke that was. He wasn’t in love with the girl. Impressed? Yah. Taken by her? Yah. But not in love. And Susan hadn’t helped things with all the praise she had heaped on Eunice when she and her family first arrived.

  “Eunice is just the funniest girl I’ve ever met,” Susan had said. “She and I can share almost anything. Eunice has some of the best pearls of wisdom to give. She knows so much about life.”

  Not that he had given it much thought at the time, but looking back, the praise certainly hadn’t helped. His interest had been stirred before he ever met Eunice in person. Now what was he to do? Write a letter to Susan? Thomas laughed again. Now that would really kill off the relationship. What kind of foolish letter could he write to New Jersey?

  Dear Susan,

  Thomas imagined the words looking awkward on the page.

  I’m sorry for what happened between us, and I consider the matter to be mainly my fault. Please forgive me, which I don’t think you will. So now that our relationship is over, I’ve been thinking the last few months about also doing something crazy with my life. Something like leaving the Amish for the Mennonites. What do you think about that?

  I know I never thought I would take such a step before, but I wanted to let you know how things are turning out. I’ve just been thinking that perhaps if I’d take such a step it would make it easier for you to return. Would you consider this, please?

  I know you were happy on the farm, and I don’t want to be the reason for your departure from the Amish. So maybe I should leave, getting my tail out of the community for your sake. Would that help you with coming back?

  I’m very sorry for what happened. I hope things are going well with you. Best wishes. Hopefully I will hear from you soon.

  As one who will always love you,

  Thomas

  He laughed again. There would be no such letter. And he had no plans to join the Mennonites, Susan or no Susan. Nor did he plan to leave the community, even with how horribly things had turned out. Susan had refused to speak to him or see him after she caught him in the conversation and kiss with Eunice. Even when he visited her house later during the week, she sent her mamm to the door. She’d left the hymn singings by herself or with her cousin Duane.

  But leaving for the Englisha world? Now Susan was taking things pretty far. Apparently he had totally misjudged her. Did she have a wild side all this time, and his interest in Eunice gave her the chance to do what she’d wanted to do all along? Susan was deliciously sweet but obviously a little dangerous. But that only added to her charm. She was still Amish at heart, and once Amish a person was always Amish. Is that not what Deacon Ray always said? Susan would surely be manageable if he could win her back. But how do I do that? he wondered.

  Thomas jumped and looked up as his daett came through the paint room door.

  “Phew, it’s rough in there!” his daett muttered, taking off his face mask.

  “I’ll take my turn,” Thomas offered, lifting his mask off the wall.

  “Take it easy in there,” his daett said as Thomas slid on the face mask and fastened the straps under his chin.

  Thomas nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind him.

  He glanced around, trying to see with the amount of light coming in from the windows. Gas lanterns couldn’t be used in the paint room, and there were no electric lights, of course. Even a small portable generator was out of the question. Deacon Ray would be down here the first Saturday night if he heard such news. No excuses would be accepted. What a shame that was. On cloudy days like this, even the large windows all along the outer wall let in insufficient light for running the air sprayers.

  The quality didn’t suffer, but it sure strained the eyes and slowed the work. Why must life be so hard to maintain the traditions of the fathers? But he shouldn’t be questioning his life right now. Still, that was apparently what happened to a man’s thinking when a girl sent him packing. Leave it to a girl to muddle it all up until he couldn’t tell which side of the world was up or down. She had even provoked him to think about leaving for the Mennonites. That was too awful an idea to even think about.

  Thomas grabbed the stain gun and began, running a thin spray up and down where his daett had left off. As he worked, he couldn’t stop his thoughts. Perhaps I should take Eunice home some Sunday night? The idea jolted him. What an awful thing to consider. And what if Susan found out? But Susan is in Asbury Park. He smiled, running the sprayer up and down the cabinet doors. What would it be like to have Eunice with him in the buggy? No girl had ever sat there but Susan or his sisters. Was Eunice really as much fun as Susan said she was? That conversation outside Emery Yoder’s house had been interesting enough.

  He could sneak Eunice out some Sunday evening without anyone knowing. That is, if my sisters could keep their mouths shut. And they would if they knew what was good for them. His hand paused, the sprayer light in his fingers, his heart racing at the thought.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Thomas sat at the supper table, staring out of the kitchen window. Thoughts raced through his mind, the last splash of color on the western horizon unnoticed. Tonight would be a gut night to pay a visit to Eunice, he thought. Why should I wait any longer when my mind is made up?

  “Thomas, do you want a piece of pie?”

  His mamm’s voice jerked him out of his daze.

  “He’s thinking about Susan so far away and gone.” His oldest sister, Lizzie, smirked. “He’s mourning the gut thing he’s lost.”

  “No, I’m not. And don’t bring up Susan,” Thomas said. “I was thinking of better things.”

  “Hah! Like there are any,” Lizzie said.

  “You wouldn’t know.” Thomas tried to look calm as he finished the last bite on his plate. “And, yah, I’ll take some of your pie, Mamm.”

  “Well, it sure wouldn’t be like you, passing up pie,” Mamm said. “I hope you’re feeling okay. Speaking of Susan, I’m sure you two can work out whatever your differences are. But I don’t see how it can be with her gone to that Englisha city. Of course, if that’s even true.”

  “It is true,” Lizzie said. Two of the other sisters nodded as Lizzie continued, “And she’ll be getting herself into all kinds of trouble, if you ask me. You should have kept the girl under control while you had her, Thomas. Shame on you.”

  “I tried to patch things up, but it didn’t work,” Thomas said in his defense.

  “Then I take it you have broken up for good?” Daett said.

  “I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “But, yah, I guess it could be. It just sort of happened.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Daett said. “You made a nice couple.”

  “Don’t go saying that,” Mamm said. “Thomas probably feels bad enough already.”

  “Did she dump you?” Daett asked, cutting into his pie.

  “Daett!” Mamm said. “Don’t be asking such things.”

  Lizzie made a choking sound from her corner of the table.

  Thomas
glared in her direction. There was nothing more he had to say about the matter. He supposed all this was mostly his fault.

  “You don’t have to talk about it,” Mamm was saying. “It’s always hard—these things are. But they do happen.”

  “That’s right.” Daett chewed on his pie. “Sometimes something will happen that takes two people in different directions.”

  “Have you tried contacting Susan?” Mamm asked. “Perhaps you could write her a letter.”

  Thomas laughed. “She’d probably tear the paper to pieces as soon as she saw the return address.”

  Daett smiled. “Women do cool off over time, so don’t be so sure about that.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t write him back,” Lizzie announced. “I’d make any boy suffer if he did to me what Thomas did to Susan.”

  “Now, now,” Mamm said. “We all make mistakes. But you didn’t do anything inappropriate, did you, Thomas?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “He was sneaking around with her best friend, Eunice,” Lizzie said.

  Thomas kept his mouth shut. Let Lizzie have her say. It was better to get this over with than to have it fester in everyone’s mind.

  “You shouldn’t be accusing your brother,” Mamm said.

  “Well, he did,” Lizzie said. “I heard it straight from a good source.”

  “I didn’t realize what I was doing was that serious,” Thomas admitted. He finished the last piece of his pie. “Yah, I did speak with Eunice after hymn singing one night, and Susan didn’t like that. Now it’s over between us.”

  “I think Thomas should visit Susan, wherever she’s at,” Margaret, the twelve-year-old, offered.

  “Me? Go visit her?” Thomas said. “I don’t think so.”

  “You never know what an apology given face-to-face might do,” Mamm said.

  “Is the girl worth that much?” Daett asked.

  “Daett!” Mamm said again. “Don’t push the boy too far.”

  “She’s worth a whole lot,” Thomas said. “I just don’t think it would work. Plus, I’ve never been out of Indiana. Besides, it might not be that simple anyway. Susan might have someone else by now. Perhaps an Englisha man. I mean, she’s out in the world. Not that I think she’d do anything wrong, but I figure there are plenty of men who would be interested in her.”