SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1

by Beverly Lewis

  “I’m fine, thanks.” I explained that I was working on an assignment for school.

  “Family trees, eh?” he said. “Well, we’re adding two more branches to our tree very soon.” Aunt Teri was expecting twins at the end of June. Both she and Uncle Pete were counting the days.

  “How’s Aunt Teri feeling?” I asked.

  “She has to rest a lot, but other than that, real fine.”

  “I was wondering if Aunt Teri could answer some questions for my school project.”

  “Let me check.” Uncle Pete went to find her. Soon he returned.

  “I’m sorry, but your aunt’s sleeping soundly. Why don’t you give the questions to me, and I’ll jot them down and call you back tomorrow evening.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I said.

  One by one, I read my list of questions. When I finished, I thanked him for taking the time. “Let us know when the babies come.”

  “We certainly will.”

  I felt awkward, unsure of what to say next. Then I blurted, “Have you picked out names yet?”

  The idea of having twin cousins seemed strange to me. Actually, I felt a total reluctance toward another set of twins in the family. Maybe I was hesitant for other reasons. Maybe I was afraid the advent of twin baby cousins would stir up suppressed memories of Faithie, neatly tucked away like her dresses and toys and things in the attic playroom.

  Uncle Pete laughed, robust and jolly. “Oh, we’re still throwing names around. Any suggestions?”

  Honestly, I hadn’t given it a single thought and didn’t really care to—but I would never let that on. My lack of enthusiasm might hurt Uncle Pete. “Maybe you should wait till after they’re born to see what names fit them.”

  “That’s a terrific idea.” He continued to chuckle in the midst of our good-byes.

  I hung up the phone and sat there in Dad’s study, staring into space. Lord, help me accept Aunt Teri’s twin babies, I prayed silently.

  Maybe it would help if you’d let them turn out to be boys.

  As for Levi Zook, I had no idea what to pray. I’d promised to give him an answer. What on earth was I thinking, accepting a ride in his buggy? I’d probably never live it down. He would take it as a good sign—that maybe I was actually thinking of accepting his invitation.

  I thought back to the afternoon I’d spent with Levi. We’d discussed many things. And surprise, surprise, I had more in common with him than I’d ever dreamed.

  Sitting back against the comforting fabric of Dad’s desk chair, I daydreamed about my bike ride to the covered bridge, the quiet moments on the riverbank, the pictures I’d taken…and the more I relived the day, the more I realized something. Something quite disturbing, actually. I liked Levi Zook.

  I liked his rambunctious, carefree way. The way he could go from driving his buggy recklessly through the covered bridge, to gently trotting his horse in a spring shower with a modern girl at his side.

  The boy was truly unconventional. He seemed to know what he wanted and went after it. And he was stubborn. Persistent, too. Joseph Lapp must’ve had some of the same personality traits.

  Dad came into the room, and I popped out of my daydreaming. He looked refreshed after a long nap.

  “Feeling better?” I asked.

  “Forty winks can make a big difference.” He ran his fingers through his graying hair and yawned.

  I almost brought up the subject of Levi Zook but chickened out and showed him my phone interviews instead.

  “Come to think of it, we might have a book of family crests around here.” He surveyed his book shelf.

  “That’d be great.”

  He searched for the book, then located it. “Here we are.” He thumbed through the pages to the 1918 Hanson coat of arms. On the page was a full-color picture of the crest; a lion holding an antler in its forepaw was the focal point.

  “Looks like the name Hanson spells courage,” Dad said proudly.

  “Mind if I borrow this to make my sketch?”

  “Help yourself.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I skedaddled off to my room to work on the artistic part of my project.

  Lily White rubbed against my leg as I sat at my desk trying to concentrate. Finally, after persistent meowing from my cuddly kitten, I picked her up. “What do you want, baby?” She began to purr as I nuzzled her face with my hand.

  “How’s this for attention?” I propped a small pillow under her and she curled up contentedly on my desk. “Wanta know a secret?” I whispered, putting my face down close to hers.

  She closed her eyes halfway.

  “Well, do you?”

  I crossed my arms and leaned my chin on my hands. “I think someone might be in love with me. Or at least he thinks he is.” I sighed, smiling. “And to think, just today I was wondering what it would be like. Well, now I know…and it feels warm and weird all at the same time.”

  Lily White opened her drowsy eyes for a moment, and I stared at the distinct golden flecks in them as we sat facing each other nose to nose.

  “Maybe the weird part comes from not knowing if you could love someone back.”

  Lily White offered no help, so I went back to my sketching as she napped away our heart-to-heart talk.

  “Knock, knock.”

  I turned to see Mom standing in the doorway. “Got a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  She came in, leaving the door ajar. “I wondered if we could talk.” I recognized the hesitation in her voice and steeled myself.

  “Have a seat.” I offered my bed, where the three Hebrew felines were sacked out in various states of consciousness.

  “I was thinking,” Mom began. “If your aunt Teri has twin girls, would you mind if I give her the baby outfits you and Faith wore?” Her deep brown eyes registered concern. Why was she asking my permission?

  “It’s really up to you,” I replied. “I don’t care either way.” It was the truth. What Mom did with Faithie’s and my baby things was her business.

  “Are you sure?” she probed.

  I nodded. “One hundred percent, amen.”

  Mom smiled. “That’s cute, Merry.”

  At first, I thought she was going to come rushing over and hug me or something, but she sat there looking like a helpless child. I swallowed the lump in my throat. No sense crying over any of this. Twins were a doubly special gift from God. What could I say to make Mom feel better about losing one of her own little gifts?

  “What if she has boys?” I offered cheerfully.

  Mom smiled. Good. That’s all it took to bring her out of the doldrums. Boys…twin boys. Now that I could handle.

  At church that night, I ran into Jon Klein downstairs at the water fountain. He seemed preoccupied as usual, but when I started to say something in alliteration-eze, Lissa came floating down the hall in her new springtime-blue dress, eyes shining.

  “Oh, there you are,” she called to him as though they’d planned to meet.

  His face lit up when he saw her, and quickly I discarded the notion of speaking to him. Emotionally, I slinked back into my shell. Next to listening to Lissa’s plans with Jon on the phone this afternoon, witnessing his obvious interest in her was the worst thing ever.

  The two of them walked down the hall and turned to go upstairs without ever acknowledging my presence. Was I really that invisible?

  I darted into the ladies’ room and stared in the mirror. What incredible thing did Lissa have that I didn’t? Or was it just me?

  Lifting my hair up away from my face, I turned sideways. Was it my shape? I certainly wasn’t as flat-chested as some girls my age. I smiled broadly at the mirror. Was it my teeth? My face? Did I smile enough?

  I shrugged at the reflection in the long mirror. Wasn’t Merry as merry as everyone said? Second thought—maybe Jon wanted something more than words these days. Maybe Lissa was a better choice for him, after all.

  No. I had a difficult time accepting that. Bottom line: Jon had simply forgotten what we had together. Th
e intellectual bond, the lighthearted fun of putting words together.

  I wanted to cry. The Alliteration Wizard was truly out to lunch. And out of reach.

  Chapter

  13

  After church, Mom made sandwiches for everyone. Skip snatched up four halves and hurried off to his room. I was surprised that he wasn’t out with Nikki Klein again but assumed he probably had tons of homework. After all, he was graduating.

  I took half a sandwich and wrapped it in a napkin, heading outdoors. The evening was warm and muggy from the afternoon shower. I sat under the white-latticed roof of the old gazebo in our backyard. Nibbling on my roast beef sandwich, I contemplated my sad state of affairs.

  My longtime crush liked someone else. Jon and Lissa together? Somehow their names didn’t roll off my tongue the way Jon and Merry did. It was actually an effort to shape my lips to say Lissa’s name after Jon’s.

  I whispered their names into the dim light of dusk. Over and over I spoke the words, as though saying them would help soften the pain of disappointment. But the truth was, I never wanted to see them again.

  I bit into my sandwich and decided it might be best to change churches. It was the only solution. But then there was another problem—school. Tomorrow!

  The grass glistened in the light of a half moon, and I pushed the back of my tennies against the gazebo step, leaning both elbows on my knees. Thinking…remembering.

  Levi had said something today that made sense. I am not certain about my future.…He’d said it in reference to his baptism into the Amish church—a sobering thought. His hesitancy had surprised me then, but his words clicked with me now and made me aware of my own uncertainties. Especially about Jon Klein.

  Why had Jon pursued me all through ninth grade with one word game after another? Didn’t he realize that seeking a girl out like that—hanging out at her locker and having a good time—meant something?

  I ate the last bite of my sandwich and stood up, brushing the crumbs off my jeans. The heavy smell of lilac hung in the air, and I breathed its perfume deep, longing for its sweetness to wash away my despair.

  Sadder than sad, I walked toward the road in the shadow of a deep May moon. Planning for the future was overrated. Maybe it was better to simply live one day at a time. Maybe Levi was right. I did have time to decide things.

  Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego came running after me as I headed down SummerHill Lane. Lily White meowed at us, scolding because we hadn’t waited for her. I retraced my steps and went back to pick her up.

  “You’re getting to be a demanding little so-and-so,” I said, giggling into her kitty ear. When I got to the turnoff to the willow grove—the shortcut to the Zooks’ farmhouse—I purposely ignored it. The light breeze felt good against my face and hair, and I slowed my walk to a stroll, enjoying the spring night.

  In the distance, I heard the clip-clopping of horses and the clatter of buggy wheels heading down SummerHill. Happy Amish teenagers wending their way to the various singings around Lancaster. The familiar sound made me think of Levi again, and I glanced toward the dirt lane leading to the Zooks’.

  Levi’s courting buggy was nowhere to be seen. Would he really come home alone after the singing? The fact that I’d given it another thought startled me. Where did Levi fit into my life? Should I even be thinking about him this way? After all, the Zook family members were dear friends. I didn’t want to hurt them.

  I snuggled Lily White next to me, then put my head down close to her, listening to the rumble of her purring. “What should I do about Levi?” I whispered. “This summer could be awfully boring with Lissa spending time with Jon.”

  I dreaded that thought. Not only was I losing the hope of having Jon as my boyfriend, I knew my friendship with Lissa would suffer, too.

  A tiny shiver flew up my back and I pushed the painful thought out of my mind. “Maybe I should be Levi’s girl, just for the summer,” I said to my cat quartet. “What do you think?” Abednego arched his fat black body.

  I laughed out loud. “I should’ve known you’d be the one to protest. Come here, you!” I put Lily White down and chased after Abednego until I ran out of breath. Then, realizing it was getting late, I called the cats. Abednego didn’t come at first, but what else was new.

  With only three of my cats trailing behind me, I turned and headed back up the hill toward home.

  The next day at school, I busied myself with as many things as possible. That’s what I always did when I was upset.

  I tried not to notice Lissa waiting at Jon’s locker. She hadn’t come in on the bus this morning. Maybe she was running late and missed it. I forced away the thought that she’d gone out after church last night. Feeling a twinge of guilt, I didn’t attempt to catch her eye, or wave as usual.

  I was thrilled to see Chelsea, though. She rushed down the hall toward me, calling “Merry!” as she balanced a pile of books in her arms. “You have to see these cool family crests.” She opened one of the fattest books. “Check it out.”

  The Davis crest displayed a spear thrust through a sphere with two black-and-silver dragon’s wings decorating the sides.

  “These are cool,” I said. “Are you going to do yours in full color like this?”

  She nodded without looking at me. “Might help my grade, don’tcha think?”

  “What could go wrong with your grade?”

  Chelsea glanced around for a second. “Well, you know the faithhealer aunt I was telling you about?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “You don’t think the teacher’ll mark me down for having a weirdo in the family, do you?” She snickered.

  “Get a life, Chelsea.” I closed my locker. “You won’t get a bad grade because of an ancestor. Count on it.”

  She wiped her forehead and pretended to shake the perspiration off her hand. “What a relief.”

  “Silly you.” I felt more confident about things as I passed Lissa and Jon at his locker and slipped into the bustling hallway to first period—art class.

  Halfway through art, I asked Mrs. Hawkins, our expert teacher and artist-in-residence, for ideas on doing a watercolor rendition of my family’s crest. She suggested I first do a pencil sketch on a large piece of construction paper.

  “When you’ve added the paints, you might want to mount it on tagboard,” she said.

  “Good idea, thanks.” I went to the art supply closet and found the paints I needed but decided to wait for the tagboard till later. There was no room to store it in my locker anyway.

  While I was returning to my seat, I had a peculiar idea. I could make a coat of arms for the Zooks. Even though their family name originated in Switzerland, I could create one for fun. It would be a friendly gesture, nothing more.

  After supper, Uncle Pete called to fill me in on Aunt Teri’s answers for the family tree. It was good of him to help me this way, and I thanked him.

  “Remember to pray for your auntie,” he reminded me before we said good-bye.

  “Oh, we are.”

  “She needs all the prayers she can get.”

  I didn’t have the courage to tell him I’d asked God for boy cousins. But it probably didn’t matter to them. This being the first pregnancy for Aunt Teri, they would be thrilled with whatever children God gave them.

  All week long I was able to avoid Lissa and Jon, even though it wasn’t easy. Sometimes it actually seemed as though they wanted to be isolated from the rest of us.

  Chelsea noticed, too. But I was the one who brought it up. “What’s with Lissa and Jon?” I asked on Friday while we waited in the cafeteria line. “They’re together all the time.”

  “They’re trying to get perfect scores on their family history projects,” she said. “That’s probably all it is.”

  I took a deep breath, clinging to my book bag for dear life.

  “You’re not jealous, are you?” She inched closer.

  “Who, me?”

  Chelsea grinned. “I know you, Merry. You’re not the martyr t
ype.”

  “I need martyr’s grace,” I muttered, letting the first words of truth escape my lips. “But don’t you dare tell a soul.”

  “So…you do like him!”

  “Treat the truth with care,” I warned her, straight-faced.

  She pushed her hair away from her face, laughing. “Merry, you’re such a kick. I love it when you get dramatic.”

  I groaned. “Let’s drop it.”

  “Whoa, Merry, don’t take it out on me.” Chelsea looked dumbfounded. “Relax, Mer. It’s just a little crush, right?”

  “No comment.”

  “It’ll go away eventually. Besides, you can do better than Jon Klein.” She put a carton of chocolate milk on her tray.

  I glanced at the brown carton. “You’ll get zits from that.”

  “That was an amazing leap of logic.” She laughed and so did I, and together we found a table off to the side, away from the noisy meanderings of students. My mind was stuck on what she’d said about doing better than Jon. What did she mean?

  Things started to settle down as we ate. We talked leisurely about our family crests and Chelsea’s latest find at the library. I was even digesting my lasagna fairly well when Lissa and Jon came in together.

  Instantly, my stomach lurched. I reached for my lemon-lime soda and mistakenly breathed in the sparkling spray off the top. It made me cough into my glass, nearly choking. Everyone around me stared. Jon too.

  I could hardly wait for the weekend. Ninth grade had never been so traumatic!

  Chapter

  14

  After school, I hurried next door to see Rachel. She invited me to help with the milking. I accepted the invitation cheerfully for a change.

  “Des gut,” she said, obviously excited.

  I hurried behind her to the barn. As I helped wash down the cows for the milking, I thought of my great-great grandfather. If Joseph Lapp hadn’t left the Amish way back when, I might be doing this chore twice every day.

  As it turned out, I spent nearly the whole weekend with Rachel, helping her bake bread early Saturday morning. Before lunch, we weeded and watered string beans in her charity garden.