Missing Your Smile

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “You shouldn’t be so down on yourself,” Daett said, getting up and patting Thomas on the shoulder. “Never let your thinking of yourself stand in the way of speaking to a woman, son. Look at me and the charming woman I got. Why, every boy in the community was clamoring to take her home after the singings. Well, I walked in, spoke to her, and that was all there was to it!”

  “You did not!” Mamm’s cheeks were red.

  “Come on now,” Daett teased.

  Mamm offered a small smile. “You were something, I have to admit.”

  “See!” Daett said. “I’m an expert in such matters. Be a man and go after the woman, Thomas!”

  “But not to the Englisha city!” Mamm gasped. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It could be dangerous.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Daett agreed. “That is not the way of our people. And now I think we’ve pestered poor Thomas with enough advice for one evening. Don’t you agree?”

  “We’re so sorry that things didn’t turn out well, Thomas,” Mamm said.

  Thomas nodded as Daett bowed his head for the closing supper prayer. After Daett finished, Thomas went up to his room and changed into a clean shirt and pants. If Susan had suspected the worst about him and Eunice, and if it was all over between them, then why not consider seeing Eunice? He had nothing more to lose.

  Leaving his room, he passed Lizzie in the stair hallway.

  “You changed your clothes. Where are you going?” Lizzie asked.

  “Out!” he said, not slowing his pace. “And keep your mouth shut about it.”

  “Mamm and Daett will see you,” she said.

  He didn’t answer as he closed the stair door behind him. Of course they would see him, but that wasn’t the problem. It would be seeing Eunice that was the problem, and so he wouldn’t tell them. It was that simple.

  “I’ll be back before long,” he said to Mamm in the kitchen. Daett hadn’t looked up in the living room, thankfully. Mamm could pass on the information if Daett asked. Likely Daett wouldn’t care as long as he wasn’t sleepy tomorrow morning for work.

  “You’re not up to something you shouldn’t be doing are you?” Mamm asked, concern on her face.

  “No,” he said, because he wasn’t. Not in the way she meant anyway.

  “Don’t stay out too late,” Mamm said, as he shut the washroom door. Thomas grabbed his good coat from one of the top hooks, grabbed a lantern from the shelf, and lit it. Walking out to the barn, he paused to glance at the sky. Faint clouds driven by high winds scurried across the moon. It didn’t look like rain was on the way. Not that it made any difference working in the cabinet shop, but the local farmers needed rain.

  He pushed open the barn door and called for Freddy. A sharp neigh came from the barnyard. Stepping outside he snapped on the tie rope, leading Freddy back inside. Placing the lantern on a shelf, he threw the harness on and fastened the straps. He blew out the lantern, led Freddy outside, shut the barn door, and hitched his horse to the buggy. They rattled out the driveway. Hopefully the Amish houses he passed would think he was on a late-night errand for his daett.

  Thomas drove north, then east for two roads, and then north again. Pulling into the small farm of Eunice’s daett, Jonas Troyer, he left his horse standing by the barn with the reins hanging limp on his bridle. Freddy would go nowhere until he came back. He might not be a fast horse, but he was a gut horse who knew when to stay put.

  Thomas knocked on the front door and waited. Surely Eunice was home at this time of the evening. Supper ought to be over, so there would be no embarrassment from walking in uninvited. Hopefully Eunice would be willing to step outside on the porch for a few minutes, and they could make their plans quickly.

  Steps could be heard from inside, and the door opened.

  “Good evening,” the deep voice of Eunice’s daett said, his eyes searching the darkness in front of him.

  “Good evening.” Thomas shifted on his feet. There is no reason to fear, he told himself. I have a perfect right to be here now that Susan is gone.

  “Who is it?” Jonas asked and stepped closer.

  “Thomas Stoll.”

  “Oh, one of the Stoll boys.”

  “Yah, Thomas Stoll,” he repeated. “Would Eunice be in by any chance?”

  “Yah, she’s upstairs.”

  “Could I speak with her?”

  “Oh…well, let me ask.” Jonas stepped back into the house.

  Thomas cleared his throat, shifting again on his feet.

  “Ach, you can step inside if you wish.” Jonas opened the door wider. He studied Thomas when he stepped inside holding his hat in his hand.

  This is not going well, Thomas thought. Perhaps I should have waited until some Sunday night. But then others might see me talking with Eunice and guess my intentions. Family can keep secrets—but trusting others is risky.

  “I hope I’m not bothering your evening,” Thomas said as faces appeared in the kitchen opening. Eunice’s mamm, Martha, a round woman, jolly on most occasions, came out, sober-faced.

  “Did I hear you ask for Eunice?” she asked.

  “Yah,” Thomas said, relaxing. A mother would know how to handle this situation.

  “She’s upstairs,” Martha said. “I’ll go and speak with her.”

  Thomas nodded, staying by the door as her steps sounded on the stairs and then faded. The faces in the kitchen doorway disappeared.

  “Ach,” Jonas said, “you can have a seat.”

  Thomas attempted a smile and cleared his throat as he sat down. Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, he jumped to his feet, his hat still clutched in his hand. Surely Eunice would invite him outside somewhere, and he wouldn’t have to make conversation in front of everyone.

  But it was Martha who appeared at the bottom on the stairs, and Thomas’s fingers dug into the rim of his hat. Had he been rejected without even a word?

  “Eunice will see you upstairs,” Martha said with a sweet smile. “She’s in her room, the one on the end of the hall. Just knock.”

  Thomas took a deep breath, glancing at Jonas who gave him a quick nod. Apparently they knew of his honorable reputation and trusted him.

  “I won’t be long,” Thomas said, opening the stair door. He found his way up the unfamiliar steps. A low light was burning somewhere in the hallway above him. The light became stronger until a kerosene lamp set on a shelf on the wall appeared. He quickened his steps. Knocking on the last door, he waited.

  “Come in!” Eunice’s clear, light voice said. He turned the doorknob with a soft click and stepped inside. She was lying on the bed reading, her head propped in one hand, her eyebrows raised sharply, her kapp still on her head.

  “Well, Thomas. What are you doing here?” she asked with a wide smile.

  “I thought I’d come by, and…well…ask you something.”

  “Anything important?” she said, still smiling. “Do sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “I can’t stay long, but your mamm said to come on up.”

  “Oh, Mamm knows I’m still decent this hour of the night, so I don’t know why she even had to come up and check. Mamm should have sent you right up.” After an awkward silence, Eunice asked, “So how is Susan doing?”

  Why should Eunice ask about Susan? Thomas wondered. I didn’t come to talk to Eunice about Susan. “I wouldn’t know,” he finally said.

  “She hasn’t written to me, either.” Eunice sat up on the bed, laying her book down beside her.

  Thomas cut to the chase. “I was wondering if I could bring you home some Sunday night.”

  “Really? Well, that would be nice. So it’s true what they’re saying? It’s really over between you and Susan?”

  “I suppose it is.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He looked at the floor. “Things change, I guess.”

  “So when will it be?” Her face lit up. “This will be quite the occasion, I must say. Me going home with the
handsome Thomas Stoll. I’m still the new girl around here, you know.”

  “Well, it’s just me.” Thomas felt heat spreading up his neck. He wasn’t used to such gushiness.

  “I must say, I never thought the day would come. Not that I hoped you and Susan would break up. Even if we gave in to temptation and kissed each other. She was a really wonderful friend, but this is really something for me. I’m so glad you came over tonight!”

  “Well, it was nice talking to you after the singing that night.”

  Her face clouded for a moment. “That’s been a while ago. There’s been plenty of times since then when you had a chance to speak with me. Surely you knew I would have loved that.”

  “Ah, I wasn’t certain.” He shifted on the edge of the bed. “Susan and I had been seeing each other for a long time.”

  Her smile dimmed. “Oh, I can understand that. Susan is a very wonderful person, and I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Your asking me is so nice. Can we make a big deal out of it? Maybe bang some plates and throw the rice?”

  “Um, not really.” He stared at her. “We don’t do things like that around here.”

  “You don’t bang plates and throw rice at weddings?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, but of course I wasn’t really serious. I know this isn’t a wedding. I’m just happy, that’s all.”

  “I would rather not make a big deal out of it.”

  “Oh.” Her face clouded but she looked ready to move closer to him.

  Thomas stood up. “I think I’d better be going. So in a couple of weeks, maybe?”

  “Not this Sunday? You know I can’t wait that long.”

  Thomas’s neck grew hot again. “We’ll make it soon, okay. And don’t make a fuss, please.”

  “I won’t.” She stood, going to open the door for him. Holding the knob, she leaned against the frame, the light of the kerosene lamp playing on her face. “Goodnight now.”

  “Goodnight,” Thomas said. He sidestepped through the door and turned to walk down the hall. The girl was gut looking, there was no doubt about that. At least as gut as Susan. But he had best be forgetting Susan.

  “See you, Thomas!” Eunice said, her light voice lingering in the narrow hallway.

  He hadn’t kissed her even though she had clearly wanted him to. That has to wait. Perhaps till I take her home—or perhaps even longer. The pain of Susan’s leaving still bothered him way too much.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Laura maneuvered her Volkswagen bug into the parking space at the Monmouth Mall. “I think this is as close as we’re going to get to the doors. It’s crowded tonight, as usual.”

  “That’s okay. I can use the exercise,” Susan said. “The bakery keeps me on my feet all day, but there’s nothing like brisk walking to get the blood flowing.”

  “So true,” Laura agreed.

  As the two women climbed out of the bug, Susan paused, her eyes sweeping over the grandeur of the mall front. “Wow! There’s nothing like this in Salem, Indiana.”

  As they headed toward the mall entrance, Laura cleared her throat. “Susan, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Oh?” Susan turned to face her.

  “Mr. Moran called me today at the bakery.”

  Susan looked puzzled.

  “You know—Duane. The customer from this morning you asked me about.”

  “Oh, yah...uh, I mean yes.” Susan laughed. “Him.”

  “He asked about you,” Laura said.

  “Me?” Susan stopped short, and a car horn honked behind them.

  Laura took her hand, leading her a few steps out of the way. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I want you to know about his interest. He’s a really nice man. I think it’s almost an honor that he called to ask about you.”

  “An honor? He’s an Englisha man.”

  “Susan, most of the men around here are. We don’t have many Amish people here.”

  Susan glanced away. Duane being a nice man was fine, but what should that matter to her? “Laura, I might be honored, but really, Duane shouldn’t be asking about me. I’m just a plain Amish girl fresh from the farm. I’m sure if you told him that, he’d be gone so fast he wouldn’t even leave any dust behind.”

  Laura laughed. “I did tell him, dear. And I hope I wasn’t too forward, but like I said earlier, I’ve known Duane for years.”

  “You told him I was Amish?”

  “Used to be Amish” Laura corrected. “He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think the fact piqued his interest even more.”

  “So are you the community matchmaker?” Susan asked as the automatic doors opened for them, ushering them into the hall lined with stores on both sides.

  “No, silly!” Laura said. “He’s the one who called me.”

  Susan’s mind whirled. What would it be like to date an Englisha tax person? Perhaps eating supper with him in a fancy restaurant? What would it be like to talk at length with someone who has that much money? And he must have gobs and gobs of it. Thomas’s bank account would look the size of a pea compared to this man’s. Not that such things matter, but still…

  “The reason I’m telling you this now is that I mentioned our shopping trip tonight, and he said he might stop by the mall and perhaps run into us,” Laura said. “I thought I should warn you.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Susan glanced down the long walkway in front of them. The place was so crowded with shoppers there wasn’t much chance they’d see him. She wouldn’t worry about it.

  “So do they still have matchmakers among the Amish?” Laura asked, steering Susan to the right. “They should have some nice purses down this way, and there are a few things I need to get too.”

  “No, there are no Amish matchmakers,” Susan replied.

  Laura smiled. “Robby finally told me about your night out on the beach. He said you’re good with a laugh, and that you both had a good time.”

  “It was wonderful,” Susan admitted. “Robby’s a lot of fun. Almost as gut as an Amish boy. In fact he seems kind of Amish. In some ways, at least.”

  “I’m not sure he’d take that as a compliment,” Laura said, slowing down. “The purses I want you to look at are here in Penney’s.”

  The two women walked into the store, Laura leading the way to the purse racks. Susan looked but couldn’t shake the feeling that her mamm was watching her. The very idea of carrying a purse in public made her throat tighten. The colors seemed gaudy to her, and the few she thought she might like had prices that shocked her. She could never afford one of these.

  “Do you see anything you like?” Laura asked, running her hand over a dark leather offering, its outline trimmed in gold. “How about this one?”

  Susan turned the sales tag over. “Laura, I certainly can’t afford this.” Not that she would dare buy the purse if she could. Her instinct against such a fancy item was still strong, even though she knew these Amish hang-ups of hers would have to cease.

  “This one’s nice.” Laura lifted a white purse and turned it sideways. “White, but not too white.”

  Susan studied the purse. It was less fancy than the others and white would be a gut choice. Black would have been better, but white was passable. She knew she needed to be sure of the choice so she wouldn’t worry later, wondering if the purchase had been a sin or not. Finally she looked at Laura and said, “I’ll take this one.”

  “Are you sure? Some of these red-and-blue ones are a bit cheaper.” Laura turned the tags over for Susan to see.

  “No, this is the one.” Susan’s voice was firm. “It’s white.” A clear conscience was worth a little extra money.

  Taking the purse from the rack, Susan paid at the register, leaving the purse in the bag as they walked out into the rush of people again.

  “You can start to use it,” Laura said. “It’s purchased now.”

  Susan shook her head. “I’ll take it home first.”

  Truth was, she needed a little more time to get used to this. Carrying the
purse around in the bag might help.

  “I need to go to the other end of the mall,” Laura said. “You can come along or you can check out one of the other stores. I have to come back this way. We can meet here, if you want.”

  Susan scanned the store signs around her. Locking on one store’s logo, she said, “I think I’ll browse through that bookstore over there,” she said.

  “Perfect,” Laura said. “Will you go anywhere else?”

  “No, just the bookstore.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you here in fifteen or twenty minutes.” Laura quickly moved away and blended into the crowd.

  Susan watched until she had disappeared before walking toward the bookstore. She felt somewhat alone with Laura gone, but taking a deep breath, Susan entered the bookstore and perused the shelves. That there were so many books in the world amazed her. Books she had no idea existed.

  One rack had a sign that said “New York Times Bestsellers.” What are New York Times Bestsellers?” she wondered. Susan picked up one of the books and read the back cover. It sounded good, so she opened the pages and read a few paragraphs. Quickly she blushed and stepped back. She replaced the book on the shelf. How did people write using such language, let alone read it? Even married people didn’t talk to each other with such words…did they? But how would I know?

  Susan looked around to see if someone had seen her reading the book. No one seemed interested in her. Several people were reading from books on the shelves, so it must be okay. Susan took another deep breath and tried a different title.

  She read a paragraph in the first chapter, scanned further, and then replaced the book. The storyline was too spooky, and how did anyone know about such things? The idea was completely unbelievable. Deacon Ray would stroke his beard and look really sober at the very idea. How could someone come back from the grave and watch his relatives live their lives?