by Amy Clipston
“Marie!” Mike’s urgent voice bellowed from the hallway beyond the kitchen.
“Excuse me,” Marie muttered before hurrying out.
Rachel glanced down at John and forced a smile. “How’s your casserole?”
“Gut.” John speared another bite with his fork. “Do you think mei dat is going to be okay?”
The question hung in the air between them while Rachel searched for an appropriate answer. She couldn’t possibly admit she didn’t know if he would be okay. She didn’t want to add to his apprehension.
“Ya,” she finally said, touching his slight shoulder. “I think after he gets the right medicine he’ll be fine.”
A door squeaked open, and Rachel saw Marie rushing through the hallway before returning with an armful of towels. A door slammed, and voices sounded beyond the walls.
Rachel and John ate in silence. When they were finished with the casserole, Rachel cut the brownies and stacked a few on a plate. John devoured two brownies while she picked at one. She found herself staring at the doorway, awaiting Mike’s return. When he didn’t appear, she filled the sink with hot, soapy water and washed the dishes and utensils she and John had used.
“Oh, you don’t need to do the dishes,” Marie said, sidling up to her. “I can take care of that.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Rachel tried to smile at Marie, but her frown refused to budge. “I’m froh to help.”
“John, would you please go take your bath?” Marie asked as she dried a dish.
“Okay.” John wrapped his arms around Rachel’s middle and squeezed her in a tight hug. “Danki for supper, Rachel.”
“You’re welcome, mei liewe,” Rachel whispered, touching his hair.
John raced out of the kitchen, and Rachel began to wash the utensils, worrying about Mike and Raymond as she worked.
“Mike asked me to tell you he’s sorry,” Marie said, breaking the silence between them.
“It’s not his fault,” Rachel said, her voice quavering with emotion.
“He’s under a lot of pressure with his dat,” Marie said, giving her a sideways glance. “I’m sorry we didn’t think to call you earlier. We were just so concerned about Raymond.”
“I understand.” Rachel washed the last spoon and handed it to Marie. “I don’t want to be in the way, so I’ll get going.” She pointed toward the table. “Could I leave the food for Mike?”
“Of course.” Marie’s lips formed a sad smile. “You’ve been a blessing to Mike and John. I’m so froh you came into their lives.”
Rachel nodded as emotion seemed to clog the back of her throat. She didn’t feel like much of a blessing. In fact, she felt more like a burden showing up at Mike’s house at the most inopportune time. “John can bring the serving dishes to school whenever they finish the casserole and brownies. I’m going to use the phone.”
Rachel called her driver and then finished helping Marie clean up the kitchen until the van arrived. During the ride home, Rachel held the basket in her lap and stared out the window while she thought about Mike and sent up prayers for Raymond.
MIKE RUBBED HIS HANDS DOWN HIS FACE AS HE STEPPED INTO the kitchen. “I finally got Dat settled into bed.” He glanced around and found Marie sitting at the table eating. “Where’s Rachel?”
“She went home.” Marie sipped from her glass of water. “She washed the dishes she and John used and then called her driver.”
Mike slumped into a chair across from Marie as guilt washed over him. “Ach, no.” He covered his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean to completely ignore her, but I was so worried about mei dat.”
“She knows that,” Marie said, her voice full of empathy. “Don’t worry about it. She left food for you.” She pushed the casserole dish over to him. “It’s amazing. You have to have some. The brownies are gut too. I stole a piece off one before I started on the casserole.”
Mike stared at the food, but his appetite had evaporated once his father became ill. The thought of eating caused his stomach to sour. “She must be furious with me,” he whispered, not meaning to say the words aloud.
“No, I don’t think she’s angry with you, but I do think she’s disappointed.” Marie scooped up more casserole with her fork. “She’s an adult, Mike. She understands the situation.” She tapped his plate with her fork. “You need to eat. We don’t need you getting ill next.”
He filled his plate and said a silent prayer. But he only pushed the food around on the plate as he thought about Rachel. He’d been looking forward to her visit all day, but Dat’s stomach problems had overshadowed the whole evening. He hoped Rachel really wasn’t upset with him. He didn’t want to hurt her.
Maybe this is the sign that I don’t have room in my life for a special maedel like her.
The voice in his head startled him and sent more dread coiling in his gut.
“How is your dat?” Marie asked, her voice breaking through his worried thoughts.
“He fell asleep.” Mike set his fork next to his plate. “He said he couldn’t eat. I was glad his stomach settled down.”
“Do you think he needs to go to the hospital?” Marie asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I’ll keep an eye on him tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor in his room.”
Her eyes rounded. “You’ll sleep on the floor?”
Mike nodded. “I don’t mind it. If he’s doing okay, then I’ll move to the sofa.”
“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
“Ya, I do.”
“You need your rest if you’re working.” Marie pointed to her chest. “I’ll sleep on the sofa, and you sleep in your bed. That way you can function at work without accidentally cutting your arm off with a saw.”
Mike gave a wry smile at her exaggerated worry. “All right. You can stay tonight, but you need to go home tomorrow and get your rest.”
She waved off the comment. “I don’t need as much sleep as my siblings do. I’ll be fine.” She carried her plate to the sink. “You need to eat, Michael. You need your strength for work tomorrow.”
As Mike speared a forkful of casserole into his mouth, he reflected on how he could make things up to Rachel. He had to find a way to apologize for not spending time with her tonight.
“I SMELL RAIN IN THE AIR,” EMILY SAID AS SHE LOOKED UP at the gray sky. She and Rachel were walking side by side down Old Philadelphia Pike.
Rachel glanced up and took in the dark, foreboding clouds. She breathed in the aroma of warm air and the hint of rain. “Ya, you’re right. I hope it holds out until after we finish our grocery shopping.”
“Ya, I do too. Rach, I meant to ask you if you’ve heard from Mike since last night. Did you check the messages this morning?”
Rachel scowled. “I checked the messages, but he didn’t leave one. I’ve been worried about his dat ever since I left their haus.”
“Ya, I was wondering how he’s doing too.” Emily pointed in front of them toward the Bird-in-Hand Builders sign. “Do you want to stop by and see if Mike’s working? Didn’t he say he would be working some Saturdays when we saw him at the post office?”
Rachel gnawed her lower lip and remembered her promise to herself not to appear eager or pushy toward men anymore. “Yes, he did. But I don’t know . . .”
Emily stopped walking and faced her. “What are you worried about?”
Rachel took a deep breath, wondering how to best express her complicated feelings. “Mike was busy taking care of his dat last night, and I backed off and gave him his space. His father needed him, and that’s important. If I go into his store to see him today, I don’t want to seem like the overbearing and smothering girlfriend.”
Emily raised an eyebrow. “Are you officially his girlfriend and you haven’t told me?”
“No, no, no!” Rachel shook her head with emphasis. “He hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend, but it feels like he will soon. At least, I hope he will.” She folded her arms over her middle. “If I go in to see him, w
ill I seem like I’m too pushy?”
Emily gave her a withering smile. “No, you’re just a gut freind who is concerned about his dat’s health.” She took Rachel’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go see if he’s there.”
Before Rachel could protest, Emily steered her toward Bird-in-Hand Builders. Rachel couldn’t help remembering her last visit there. When they stepped through the front door, the same bell rang, announcing their arrival. And when Rachel and Emily crossed the showroom to the counter, the same Amish man with a brown beard was talking on the phone. He placed his hand over the mouthpiece and raised his eyebrows, perhaps as if to ask what he could do for them.
“We’re looking for Mike Lantz,” Rachel said.
“Rachel, right?” he asked.
Rachel nodded with surprise. How did he know who she was? Had Mike told him when she was last here? Oh no.
“You can go on back.” He pointed toward the door leading to the shop.
“Danki,” Rachel said. She glanced at Emily as they made their way toward the shop. Her sister was grinning.
“Do you want me to wait here?” Emily offered as they approached the door.
“You can come with me,” Rachel insisted, motioning for Emily to follow her.
Rachel pushed the door open and moved through the hallway where she and Mike had argued. She wrenched open the shop door, but she stopped when she saw Mike talking to an Amish girl.
Rachel froze in place. Mike was standing close to the young woman, sharing an evident familiarity with her. Rachel’s stomach twisted as Mike touched her arm and then leaned in close and whispered to her. The girl was beautiful, much more striking than Rachel could ever hope to be. Dressed in a dusty rose-colored frock, the young woman had clear porcelain skin, powder-blue eyes, and red hair peeking out from under her prayer cover. The girl touched Mike’s arm and then whispered back to him as he nodded in response to whatever she said.
Rachel’s stomach soured and bile rose in her throat. Mike apparently cared about this beautiful young woman. He knew her well, and from the way he touched her arm, she shared more than Rachel could ever share with him.
Rachel hugged her arms around her middle as her body began to shake with a familiar betrayal. It was happening all over again. Mike was seeing another girl behind her back—just as David had done. Mike had taken her heart and smashed it into a million pieces. Their relationship was over before it ever really had a chance to begin.
“Rach,” Emily whispered, placing her hand on Rachel’s arm. “Calm down.”
Rachel pulled away from Emily, turned around, and ran down the hallway and through the showroom. She wove her way through the knot of customers before she banged through the front door. As she hit the sidewalk outside the store, a cool spray of drizzle sprinkled her face, mixing with the warm tears pouring down her cheeks.
“Rachel!” Emily called, rushing after her. “Wait up!”
Rachel slowed her pace, allowing her sister to catch up with her. Emily grabbed Rachel’s arm and spun her around.
“Hold on,” Emily insisted, huffing and puffing to catch her breath. “You don’t know who that woman is. You can’t assume Mike is seeing someone else.”
“Please, Emily.” Rachel spat the words at her. “I’m not stupid.” She pointed in the direction of the store. “He obviously is close to that maedel. He’s never been that intimate with me. He’s never whispered to me or touched my arm.” She swiped at her angry tears. “He’s seeing her. It’s just like David. Only it’s worse.” She sniffed as her voice trembled. “I thought what Mike and I had was going to be something real, more real than what I had with David.”
“Stop it.” Emily placed her hands on Rachel’s forearms. “You shouldn’t assume the worst without talking to him first. That maedel could be a gut freind who is just as concerned as you are about his dat.”
“No,” Rachel said, her voice louder than she expected. “That maedel is schee. He obviously cares about her. He cares about her more than he cares about me.” Something painful twisted in her chest as she said the words. “She’s the reason he hasn’t called me to tell me how his dat is. He’d rather tell her and be with her instead of with me. I don’t blame him.”
“You don’t know that,” Emily said, her voice seeping with frustration. “You always jump to the worst conclusions without getting all the facts. You should give him a chance to explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain.” Rachel yanked her arms out of Emily’s grasp and marched toward the grocery store. “Let’s get the groceries and go home.”
“Rachel.” Emily jogged to catch up. “You really should go back there and talk to him.”
Rachel ignored her sister and stepped into the grocery store. Taking a deep breath, she poured herself into her shopping list and tried to ignore her fracturing emotions.
MIKE STUCK HIS PAINTBRUSH INTO THE PUNGENT CLEAR stain and moved it over the lighthouse. He worked mechanically as his mind swirled with thoughts of his father. Although Dat seemed stronger this morning, he still wasn’t able to lift himself out of bed and had developed a cough overnight. Mike didn’t like the sound of it. He planned to ask Marie to mention it to the nurses at dialysis on Monday.
Mike offered to stay home, but Marie insisted she could take care of everything. Mike finally agreed to go to work, but he instructed Marie to call him if she needed him to come home.
Mike thought about Rachel as well. He longed to call and apologize to her, but he’d been so busy since he walked through the door this morning that he hadn’t had a chance to get to the phone. He was catching up on his work when Janie stopped by to see him. She’d been worried about his father since she’d heard about his episode last night. Janie was going to head over to his farm to relieve Marie, but she wanted to check in with Mike before she went over there.
“Hey.” Sam appeared behind him.
Mike spun to face him. He pushed his mask to the top of his head, placed the lid on the stain, and then balanced the brush on top. “I didn’t see you there.”
Sam sat on a stool beside Mike. “I was wondering how your visit went with Rachel. I didn’t see her leave.”
“Rachel?” Mike glanced around the shop. “Where is she? I haven’t seen her.”
Sam blinked and paused. “Isn’t she a pretty brunette with brown eyes?”
Mike nodded. “That’s right.”
“She had a shorter blonde with her,” Sam continued.
“That’s her schweschder Emily.” Mike looked around the shop again. “Where are they? Did you tell them to come back and see me?”
“Ya, I did.” Sam gave him a befuddled expression. “So, you never saw her?”
“No.” Mike shook his head. “I’ve been back here working. I’ve only spoken to Janie. When did Rachel stop by?”
Sam craned his neck, turning toward the large clock hanging at the back of the shop. “I guess it’s been almost two hours. I wanted to check on you sooner, but it’s been crazy up front.”
Mike brushed his hands down his blue work shirt as bemusement overtook him. “Why didn’t she come in here to talk to me?”
Sam shrugged as he slid off the stool. “I don’t know. Maybe you should give her a call?”
“Ya, I will after I finish staining this lighthouse.” Mike slipped the mask over his nose and mouth and then picked up the paintbrush. Sam waved before heading toward the showroom. While Mike finished staining the lighthouse, he tried to figure out why Rachel had come to the shop to see him but didn’t speak to him.
Why would she leave without saying hello? Unless she had planned to tell him she was upset about his ignoring her last night or assumed he was too busy when she saw him working, it just didn’t make sense.
CHAPTER 21
RACHEL LEANED DOWN AND WRENCHED ANOTHER HARDY, green weed from the garden. The hot midday sun beat down on her neck, burning into her skin. By the time Rachel and Emily had exited the grocery store, the rain had stopped and the sun had poked out from behind
the gray clouds. Rachel refused to answer Emily when she tried to discuss the scene with Mike at the shop during the ride home. Instead, Rachel stared out the van window and held her breath to choke back more threatening tears.
When she arrived home, Rachel helped put away the groceries and then hurried outside. Despite the mud, she’d spent nearly an hour pulling weeds. The tedious task did little to drown her heartache or stop the despair that had taken root in her soul. She’d managed to avoid her mother’s and Emily’s concerned expressions by telling them she needed to work in her garden. Since then, she’d kept her back bent and her hands working. She didn’t want to hear their platitudes or encouragement. Instead, she yearned to stay busy for now. She knew the tears would come as soon as she stopped moving.
“Rachel!” Mamm called from the phone shanty. “You have a phone call!”
Rachel brushed hands down her black apron as she stalked through the garden and toward the barn. “Who is it?” she called to her mother.
“It’s Mike,” Mamm said, gesturing to the small shed where the phone was. “I told him I’d get you.”
Rachel’s throat dried and anguish bit into her shoulder blades at the mention of his name. “Please tell him I can’t come to the phone.”
Mamm’s eyebrows pinched together. “Why would you do that?” “I can’t talk to him.” Rachel shook her head. “Please tell him I’m not available or that I went to the store.” She squeezed Mamm’s arm. “I know it’s a sin to lie, but I can’t talk to him. Please, Mamm, I’m begging you to tell him I’m not here.”
Mamm paused, studying Rachel. “Why won’t you talk to him?”
“I don’t want to get into it right now, Mamm.” Rachel’s voice shook. “I promise I’ll explain everything later. Please tell him I can’t come to the phone. Tell him I don’t feel well and I’m going to my room to lie down. I’ll go right now. Please, Mamm. I’m begging you.”