by Gayle Roper
“So give it to her for a Christmas present.”
“Can’t. Presents are to be personal and only opened on Christmas morning.”
“And she can’t wait until Christmas morning for her Christmas tree?”
I grabbed another box. “Never. Today is already two days late.” I held out the box and pointed to a picture of another green plastic stand. “How about this one? You have to tighten screws, but look how broad the base is. The tree will never fall over.”
“Do your mother’s trees often fall over?” Jake asked.
“Well, no.”
“Then I still vote for the tilt one.”
“Of course you do. Why should you care how much it costs?”
“Well, I’m certainly not getting down on the floor and tightening screws.”
“Of course you’re not. I’m the one who will be on my stomach on the floor tightening, tightening while my mother yells, ‘No, the other way, Rose. The other way!’”
“Then we should get the one that’s best for you,” Jake said. “The tilt one it is.”
“But it’s so expensive,” I repeated.
Jake eyed me. “You’re being a little bit obstructive here, woman.”
“You just don’t know my mother!”
He grinned. “Let me handle her. She thinks I’m nice.”
I snorted. “She also thinks you’re tall.”
He shrugged. “I am tall. I’m five eleven when I’m laid end to end. And that’s tall for an Amishman.”
“Really? No wonder I like you. I’ve always liked tall guys. My father was a tall guy.”
“You probably think that because you were just a short girl.”
“Now there’s a new way to look at it.”
As I said that, I noticed a man an aisle over looking at me. He wore a baseball cap reading Michigan pulled low over his brow and a pair of sunglasses, but even so I could tell he was staring. I smiled vaguely. When he saw me looking at him, he quickly turned away.
I was glad. I’m always uncomfortable when guys stare. I can never decide whether it’s a compliment or an insult.
I turned my attention back to Jake and the tree stands.
Without realizing how it happened, I found myself in the checkout line with the tiltable tree stand in my hands. I turned and looked at Jake. “You’re good. I don’t even remember agreeing to buy this.”
He grinned.
I handed him the tree stand and fished in my purse for some money. As I pulled out my cash, I saw the man with the Michigan hat at the other register. He was staring at me again.
I frowned as I turned back to my money. Somehow being watched that intently made me nervous. But maybe he’d seen me on TV and was interested in someone who had played dead. Whatever his reason for watching me, I was glad when he left the store.
Counting the money in my hand, I shuffled forward as the first person in line completed his transaction. As always happens to me, my line moved more slowly than the other, and it seemed like forever before I was at the register.
Maybe I ought to just put the stand on my credit card. Then I wouldn’t clean myself out. I put the tree stand on the counter and looked at the cashier, a kid whose name tag read Josh. He wasn’t looking at me though. He was deep in conversation with the other cashier, a gray-haired gentleman whose tag read Tim. As they talked, Tim pushed a button under his counter.
My first thought was that there was a robbery in progress and he was pushing a silent alarm like they do in banks. My second thought was that I watched too much TV. My third thought was that I hoped whatever the problem was, it didn’t take too long. Mom was waiting for us, and I still had to go to the tree farm and pick out the tree.
The manager hurried up to the registers from wherever managers usually hide and said, “What’s wrong, Tim? Why’d you ring?”
“I’m not sure,” Tim said. “But I feel like I’ve got to tell you just so it doesn’t weigh on my mind too much.”
The manager looked unhappy as did all the people in the checkout lines. Lost register time was lost money and mangled schedules.
“There was just a guy in here,” Tim said. “He bought a piece of pipe and two end caps.”
The manager looked at Tim and shook his head. “I don’t get your point.”
“Well, if someone buys some pipe and one end cap, I figure he’s working on a home repair project.”
“Sure,” said the manager impatiently.
“But pipe and two end caps—there’s only one use for that combination.”
The manager looked dazed. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“In light of the news this week, it’s too big a risk not to think that way, isn’t it?”
Josh looked as confused as I did. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“A bomb,” Tim said.
Bomb. The word leaped through the customers.
A pipe and two end caps, I thought, and a bomb made by an amateur.
Evil Ernie, I immediately thought. He was here? I began searching the faces around us. He was such an innocuous little man, he could have been standing right next to me and I’d never have seen him. But of course he was no longer in the store. He’d made his purchases.
“Jake?” I turned to him.
“I heard, sweetheart.” He laid his strong hand on my sleeve. “Don’t worry. I’m here. Just remember. He doesn’t know where you are.”
I thought for a minute of the man who had stared at me and immediately threw that idea away. There was no way he was Ernie. Too young. Too tall. Just some curious guy.
Suddenly I breathed more easily. Jake was right. Ernie had no idea where I was.
“We’d better call the police,” Tim said.
The manager nodded. “Just in case.”
“You want Lem Huber of the Lancaster cops,” I said to the manager.
He looked at me like I was an interfering busybody. “Right, lady.”
I knew I could argue with him and finally be proved right, but I saw no reason to humiliate myself further. I gave Josh the money for the tree stand and left the store as quickly as I could.
As we drove east on 340, I held the tree stand on my lap, trying to decide how my mom was going to react to something not only new but different. She didn’t do different well.
“You don’t have to worry about what you said yesterday,” Jake blurted into the silence. His eyes were again fixed straight ahead. “You were sick and weak and feeling grateful. I don’t hold you to what you said.”
I took me a minute to catch up. “You mean when I said I loved you?”
A flash of feeling rippled across his face, but seeing only his profile, I couldn’t identify what it was. Regret? Distress? Sorrow? “Yes. That’s what I mean.”
I took a deep breath and leaped off into the unknown. “Then I’ll say it again now when I’m well and very aware.” I turned in my seat and looked directly at him. “I love you, Jacob Zook.”
Again that flash of something across his face.
“I’ll always love you,” I continued, “and I wish from the bottom of my heart that I could marry you. I wish you weren’t so stubborn. I wish you would consider what I feel and think instead of unilaterally deciding against marriage. But in the end it doesn’t matter what you decide because I can’t marry you any more than you can marry me.” I gave a quavery laugh. “We’ve come straight down a box canyon, and we’re up against an impregnable, immovable wall of granite. We’re trapped.”
Silence laced with myriad emotions ricocheted around the van. I was literally shaking and thoroughly surprised that the agonizing pain I was feeling didn’t fill the vehicle with shrieks and screams and banshee wails.
“Why?” Jake asked finally, quietly.
“Why what?”
“Why won’t you marry me?”
I looked at him with a wry half smile. “It’s okay if you won’t marry me but not if I won’t marry you?”
“Don’t play verbal ga
mes, Rose.” He glared at me. “Why won’t you marry me?”
“You won’t like my answer.”
He snorted. “I know your answer. I don’t believe. Right? Because I won’t agree that God will forgive me freely, you won’t marry me. And I thought the Amish were narrow!”
I squirmed under his disdain. “I’m sure it looks narrow to you, but that’s the way it is. Again, God gets to set the rules, Jake. I have to accept them. The Bible says we shouldn’t marry unbelievers. I may wish to overlook that because my heart is captive, but I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t and won’t.”
He clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead while I stared out the side window so he couldn’t see my pain. We were going down the first of the twin hills south of Honey Brook. We drove through the intersection where Jake’s accident had occurred. I saw my mother’s house off to the right and the field where Ben had supposedly thrown my ring. Then we were climbing the second hill and turning into her drive.
Jake looked at me, all traces of his anger gone. Instead he looked as forlorn as I felt. He reached quickly across the space between our seats and ran his finger down my cheek.
“I don’t know what’s going to become of us, Tiger.”
I blinked back my tears. “I don’t either.”
Chapter 15
Jake charmed my mother just like I knew he would. By the time Lauren and Davy arrived, Mom was whispering all sorts of romantic encouragement to me just as if Jake was deaf as well as lame.
“He’s very handsome, dear, for a man who can’t walk. I’ve always liked them dark and brooding.”
“Shush, Mom! He’ll hear you.”
She just smiled and went to the kitchen to get a Coke.
Later when she thought Jake was reading the paper, she smiled at me and whispered none too softly, “He’s the best thing you’ve ever brought home, Rose. Certainly better than Ben. I bet Jake would never throw away a diamond ring.”
I refrained from telling her that neither would Ben.
The piece de resistance was offered when Mom and I went into the kitchen to check on the progress of the turkey while Jake remained in the living room with the recently arrived Davy and Lauren.
“Oh, my, Rose,” Mom said. “When he looks at you, the air positively smolders.” She sighed, clasping her hands to her heart.
I blinked and shook my head in amusement. “Mom, you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”
“You always were short of imagination, dear. Trust me; I know about these things.”
My critical daughter’s eye flashed Mom’s sterile life across the screen of my mind. She knew about these things? Before I could utter a nasty and thoroughly inappropriate comment, one I’d regret for years, the doorbell rang. I went quickly to answer, rolling my eyes as I went.
I froze with my hand on the storm door when I saw who was there. “Ben.” I managed a stiff smile and forced out, “Come in.”
He followed me into the living room where Mom, Jake, Davy, and Lauren waited. I made introductions.
Ben made a little bowing motion toward Mom, saying, “Mrs. Martin, how good to see you again.’’
Mom smiled stiffly, offering a carbon copy of my welcoming smile.
“You remember Jake, I’m sure,” I concluded.
“Of course he does, Tiger,” Jake said with a knowing grin. He stuck out his hand. “Good to see you again, Ben. How’s the fiancee?”
Ben looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“Why, Ben,” Mom said, suddenly relaxed, “what’s this about a fiancee? I take it congratulations are in order.” She patted Ben on the back.
Ben flushed and muttered something about thanks and she was a wonderful girl. Mom would like her.
“I’m sure,” Mom said. “Pure gold, I don’t doubt. Which makes me think, dear Ben. You had to buy another engagement ring, didn’t you? What a shame.” Trust Mom to stick in the shiv.
“Uh,” Ben said, ever quick on his feet. He turned to me. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Rose.”
“You knew I was here?”
He shook his head. “I thought I’d ask your mother for your address. By the way, I was glad to learn that you were still alive.”
Suddenly I was struck with a totally inappropriate urge to laugh. “While I was dead,” I said, unable to keep the humor out of my voice, “I bet you were relieved. Your little secret was safe.”
“Rose! How can you think such a thing?” He struggled to look appalled.
“Very easily. I’ve become a skeptic where you’re concerned.”
“Rose!” Mom said, genuinely appalled. “Where are your manners?”
“In the field across the street, Mom.” I couldn’t resist adding, “With the ring.”
Ben looked acutely uncomfortable.
“It was a lovely ring.” I said blandly.
“Quite beautiful,” Jake added helpfully.
“When Ben first bought it,” I explained to Lauren and Davy, “it was for me. I picked it out. I’ve always liked the design, the way the diamond was set.”
“What are you talking about?” Mom asked. “How would Jake know anything about your old ring?”
“What would you say, Mom, if I told you Ben never threw the ring away?” I watched Ben turn a violent crimson.
“He threw away a diamond ring?” Lauren asked, aghast.
“Nope.” I looked at Ben, trying to keep my grin from looking smug. “He never did.”
“Of course he did,” Mom said. “I saw him.”
That stopped me. “You saw him?” I turned to her, one eyebrow raised. I had always assumed that the humiliation and ugliness of that night were my private business. Mom only knew about things because I told her later. Apparently that was not the case. “You saw him?”
She cleared her throat and looked uncomfortable. “I just happened to glance out the window.”
“Mom, you were spying!”
Mom turned to Lauren to plead her case. “Imagine if you had a daughter,” she began. “Imagine if she was screaming at this man.”
“I was not screaming,” I protested.
Mom paid no attention. “She was screaming, and he was screaming right back. Wouldn’t you look to see what was going on? Wouldn’t you? If you loved your daughter and were concerned about her fate?”
Lauren looked wide-eyed at me, humor dancing just below the surface, but she wisely kept silent.
“My fate, Mom? You were concerned about my fate? What did you expect him to do? Slug me? Strangle me?”
“Well, anyway,” Mom said to Lauren, ignoring me again. “I just happened to look out the window and see him toss this diamond ring across the street into the field.”
Lauren was struggling not to laugh.
I shook my head. “Mom, the point I’m trying to make here is that he never threw the ring. He just pretended.”
“What?”
“He just pretended.”
At that point my greatest hope for Ben’s survival was that he never face my mother without a room full of witnesses to assure his continued well-being. Her face turned red, and her chest swelled three times its normal size. She strode up to Ben and planted her index finger in the middle of his breastbone.
“When I think of all the time I spent in that field looking for that infernal ring! When I think of what it did to my arthritis! My knees and back will never be the same! Of all the nerve! Ben Abrams, I’m ashamed of you!”
With every word she poked Ben hard, and she had great nails for poking, long, strong, and lethal. By the time she was finished, he looked pained and was rubbing his chest.
“But that’s not the best part, Mom,” I said. “He kept it and gave it to Allie Priestly.”
Mom gasped. “That terrible girl who took your place on the cheerleading squad?” She glared at Ben. “Well, you deserve the likes of her, and she—” Mom sniffed significantly. “She deserves a secondhand ring, if you ask me.”<
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I felt really good. My mother was actually standing up for me. I should have known she couldn’t let well enough alone.
“Stealing Rose’s boyfriend like that,” she muttered. “Allie always was untrustworthy.”
I rolled my eyes, Ben flushed crimson all over again, and Jake gave a delighted bark of laughter.
“Mom, Ben and I haven’t been an item for over two years. And I’m the one who broke up with him.”
Mom harrumphed again. Let us not allow logic to put a crimp in our anger.
Ben turned from Mom and looked at me. “I came to ask…”
His words trailed off, and he looked unhappily at all the avid eavesdroppers lining the room. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “I came to ask that you not tell Allie about the ring.” He ended up asking the floor.
I looked at his bowed head and wondered at my onetime attraction to him. I guess I’d have to chalk it up to youth. I glanced at Jake and caught him watching me with a grin of pure delight. Whether the delight was with me or the farcical situation, I didn’t care. It was just a joy to share it with him.
Ben cleared his throat, and I turned to him. “Ben, the last thing I’d ever stoop to is telling Allie about that ring. All that matters is that you two love each other and will be happy together. Honestly, the ring doesn’t bother me at all.”
He looked at me like he wasn’t certain whether to believe me or not.
“If Rose says she won’t tell, she won’t tell,” Mom said so loudly and emphatically that I jumped. “Now let me show you out, Ben. We’re having a late Thanksgiving here, and plans are being delayed by this conversation.”
Ben looked disconcerted as Mom inexorably led him to the door.
“Good-bye, Ben,” she said, all but pushing him down the front steps. “I hope you’re more honest with Allie than you were with us.” And she shut the door. She walked back into the room dusting her hands as if to say, “Good riddance.”
I grinned at her as I heard Ben start up his car, rev the engine, then back out of the drive with a roar.
“Thanks, Mom. You were great!” And I gave her a big hug. She hugged me in return, then patted me on the back and hurried into the kitchen.