Seth opened his mouth to say that’s not how Abe seemed to him, but Martha continued lecturing him. “You didn’t know him before he gave up the booze. But I did. And I know Trina wouldn’t have any part in supporting a liquor store.”
Seth felt terrible. He hadn’t realized Trina’s grandfather had been an alcoholic, or that he’d been negligent in caring for Trina’s mother. He was wrong for judging Patience. And he hoped he was wrong in imagining Trina would sell out, too.
Chapter Five
In the week following Martha’s confiding in her about Freeman, Trina tried to drop hints to Timothy and Tanner about the fact she wouldn’t be with them very long. She agreed with Seth it might be painful for them when she left, so she wanted to prepare them for her eventual departure. On Wednesday afternoon, as she put them down for their naps, Timothy asked if she’d still be there when he woke up.
“Of course I will,” she told him, realizing she may have overdone it in warning them she wasn’t going to be with them permanently. “I’m not leaving until May. I’ll show you how many days that is on the calendar when you’re done napping.”
“Will you kumme to visit us after you leave?” Timothy asked.
“Well, Philadelphia is pretty far away.”
“That’s okay. Englischers can drive a car or fly in an airplane.” Tanner yawned before adding, “Daed said he doesn’t want you to sell your house.”
Trina’s ear perked up. “When did he say that?”
“At night when I was getting a drink. He told Groossmammi a weasel came to your house to ask you to put a concrete jungle in your backyard. Will there be monkeys in the jungle?”
Trina was mortified. “Neh, your daed was only teasing. After all, weasels can’t talk, can they?”
Tanner shook his head and Timothy asked, “Will there still be a jungle in our backyard?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said. “Although that doesn’t mean there won’t be two of my favorite little monkeys swinging from the trees.” She tickled each boy’s stomach and they laughed before rolling over and falling asleep.
Later, when Seth returned home, he didn’t even have time to remove his hat before Trina asked to speak with him on the porch. He looked surprised but he agreed. She was so insulted he thought she was the kind of person who’d allow her mother’s property to be exploited for the sake of selling alcohol that she didn’t waste time with any pleasantries.
“For your information, I’m not selling the property to anyone who wants to use it to build a liquor store!” she said, planting her hands on her hips.
Seth removed his hat and scratched his ear as if he hadn’t quite heard right. “I suppose Martha told you about our conversation?”
“Neh, the buwe did. But that hardly matters. What matters is that I’m not selling the house to a developer and if you have a question about something like that, you should ask me instead of spreading rumors. Especially within earshot of the kinner.”
Seth responded defensively, “Who are you to lecture me on what I should or shouldn’t do in front of my own buwe?”
Scowling, Trina countered, “Who do you think you are to spread false rumors about me?”
“I didn’t,” he said and his shoulders drooped. “At least, I didn’t intend to—I didn’t know the buwe were still awake. But I wasn’t spreading a rumor. Not exactly. I was discussing my concerns with Martha, who, by the way, adamantly informed me my fears were unfounded.”
Trina’s cheeks were still burning. “Jah, and I would have informed you of the same thing if you’d only asked me first.”
“I know that now.” Seth lowered his voice and compassionately explained, “My groossmammi also told me about...about your groossdaadi’s drinking problem and the effect that had on your mamm. I had no idea. That must have been so difficult for her.”
“Jah, it was,” Trina admitted, “which is why it’s so important I honor her memory by selling her childhood home to a family who will be happy together in it.”
Seth’s relief was evident. “I’m really glad to hear that’s your intention. And I’m sorry I didn’t consult with you first instead of jumping to conclusions.”
“It’s alright.” Trina hesitated before confessing, “Martha told me about your brother’s decision, too. I can see how that would influence your perspective on Englischers.”
“I try not to let it, but I’m afraid I’m not always successful.” It was too dark to see Seth’s eyes, but his voice was heavy. “So denki for bearing with me.”
Glad their argument was over, Trina jested, “Speaking of bears, you’re going to have two very disappointed boys on your hands. After hearing your comments about the realtor, they thought they were getting an actual jungle in their backyard.”
When Seth laughed, his straight, bright teeth shone in the dark. “Serves me right, I guess.”
Hesitantly, Trina said, “I wouldn’t think of telling you what to do with your buwe, but could I offer an observation?”
“Of course.”
“Kinner their age tend to take figurative language literally. Not only can it get their hopes up, but it can be scary for them, too. For example, the other morning I told Martha the buwe were so funny I almost laughed my head off. Timothy overheard and was terrified his antics were going to make my head roll off my shoulders.”
“Ah, point taken,” Seth said, again giving her a toothy smile.
Was he laughing at her or at the boys? “What’s that smile about?” she asked.
“Oh, I was just thinking you must be a wunderbaar teacher. Not only because of the way you teach Timothy and Tanner, but because of the way you just made your point with me, too.”
Trina’s insides felt wiggly. She loved being a teacher and she was glad it showed. “Denki. And since you mentioned careers, I’d like to say I could see from the detail you put into your leatherwork that you care very much about their quality.”
Seth adjusted his hat. “Denki. Did the buwe show you one of my harnesses in the stable?”
“Neh. I peeked into your shop window when I walked home from church the other day. I’d love to take a closer look when the shop is open, though.”
“Whoa. You walked all the way to Main Street from church and then home again?”
“Jah. I’m heartier than I look.”
Was she imagining it or did Seth just give her the once-over? “Some off Sunday when we’re not at church, I could pick you up and take you to my shop,” he suggested. “With the buwe and Martha, of course.”
Of course—Trina understood the rules of propriety. “I’d like that. And I’d also like it if you’d check out the rest of my house for mice. The one in the cupboard is gone but I heard something scratching last night. It might have been a branch against the walls but just in case...”
“I thought you said you were hearty,” Seth joked. “What harm is a little mouse going to do to you?”
Trina didn’t know if she should confide in him, but since he’d been so understanding about her mamm and about Abe’s alcoholism, she decided to risk it. “I know it’s a ridiculous fear. But when you’ve lived in the city, or when you’ve been poor, it’s not always mice you hear. Sometimes it’s...rats.” Even the word made her shudder, or maybe it was the fact she’d just confided to Seth that she and her mother had once been very poor. Suddenly self-conscious, she turned her head even though it was too dark for Seth to see her expression.
Seth cleared his throat. “I’d be happy to help rid your house of the little critters,” he said warmly. “And if I’m not successful, I know two little buwe who act like very convincing katze.”
They both laughed. Trina was glad what started out as an uncomfortable, intense conversation had ended so well and even gladder Seth had complimented her abilities as a teacher.
* * *
On Thursday evening after putting the boys to
bed early, Seth visited Belinda Imhoff to discuss potentially courting a different woman. He would have waited to see Belinda after work on Saturday, but he had reserved that afternoon to more thoroughly mouse-proof Trina’s house. He was so relieved she didn’t intend to sell the property to a land developer that he would have done almost anything to get the house into better shape for a family to move into.
Belinda suggested matching him with Emma Lamp, who was from Willow Creek. Seth had never considered courting her previously because she was so young—perhaps only eighteen or nineteen. It seemed she would have had plenty of opportunities for courtships through attending singings or other social events with youth her own age. But he wanted to keep an open mind, especially since Belinda seemed disappointed he had already decided against Fannie. Belinda suggested he try meeting her a few more times, but Seth had a sure sense that Fannie and her daughters weren’t compatible with him and his family. More time wasn’t going to change his mind, and he had to make the most of the next several weeks while Trina was still there to watch the boys. So, he asked Belinda to arrange for him to take Emma to his home after church that Sunday.
Because there was a torrential downpour on Saturday afternoon, he didn’t allow the boys to accompany him to Trina’s house while he repaired the woodwork. He didn’t want them dirtying her floors as well as theirs, and Martha said she could handle them for an hour or so.
After pointing out where she’d heard the scratching sounds in the parlor, Trina retreated to the kitchen, and Seth examined the baseboards and flooring, which were definitely in need of repair. He wanted to fix them for her, as well as for any potential buyers. He was kneeling behind the sofa examining the baseboard when he heard Trina enter the room. Rising to face her, he knocked his shoulder against the end table and toppled its contents—a Bible and a framed photo—onto the floor. He managed to catch the Bible but the picture frame went crashing down and broke into several pieces that skittered across the floor.
Trina gasped. “Oh, neh!”
Seth clumsily stood up. “Ach, I’m sorry. I’ll clean that up,” he offered.
Trina dropped to her knees and picked up the broken frame, which appeared to be made out of fragments of glass. She rocked it in her arms and cried as if it were her baby that had fallen. He began collecting pieces of glass from the floor but she snapped, “Leave them alone—and leave me alone, too. I want you to go home.”
“What?” Seth didn’t understand why she was acting so devastated over a few pieces of glass. Even Timothy and Tanner wouldn’t have cried like that over a broken object.
Her lip was quivering as she raised her tear streaked face and repeated, “Please leave.”
“What about the cracks in the walls?”
“I don’t care about the stupid walls or this stupid house,” she wailed.
“That makes no sense,” he pointed out. “You’re bawling over something that’s already broken instead of prioritizing something that can still be fixed.”
Trina rose to her feet and held up the jagged frame. “This was important to me,” she cried. “It was the most important possession I owned.”
“But that’s just it, it’s only a possession. It’s not as if it’s a life that’s lost.” He didn’t know why, but that really set Trina to sobbing. He didn’t give in. “I don’t understand why the Englisch are so preoccupied with photos anyway. It’s narrish.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” she wept. “Amish men don’t have feelings. Or at least they don’t show them if they do. They’re heartless, absolutely heartless.”
Heartless? That was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard. “Oh, we have feelings, alright. But only for things that matter. We’re not like the Englisch who care about their material possessions more than anything.”
“You have no idea what we care about,” Trina countered. “How could you? You’re too busy judging us to understand us.”
“And the Englisch are just plain too busy,” Seth retorted. “Everything is hurry, hurry, hurry, now, now, now. You’re pushy and impatient and overbearing.”
“Oh, denki very much for that. Is there anything else you want to say about the Englisch before you leave?” Trina sniped.
Seth knew the argument had gotten out of hand, but he really resented being called heartless. “Jah, the Englisch are so concerned with being thin they don’t care if they look sickly. I have healthier looking scarecrows in my garden.”
He knew he’d gone too far even before Trina’s expression wilted and she turned her back to him, but at that moment, he felt his remarks were justified. After all, she’d asked him what he thought of Englischers.
Hours later, he was still stoking the ashes of his anger, when Timothy asked, “Can we invite Trina to supper tomorrow night, Daed?”
“Neh,” he barked and Martha popped her head up from where she was crocheting on the sofa. She always said when you crocheted for as many years as she did, you didn’t need vision; you could do it in your sleep.
“Tomorrow Emma Lamp is visiting for supper,” he explained, as if that were the only reason he didn’t want Trina around.
“Emma Lamp?” Martha echoed. “Isn’t she a little young?”
“It’s not age that matters. It’s maturity,” Seth groused, thinking of Trina’s tantrum over a broken picture frame. He didn’t need a lecture from Martha but he knew one was coming when she sent the boys to the basement to ride their bikes.
“You’ve been moping all afternoon. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Neh,” Seth replied curtly.
“Well, tell me anyway,” Martha said, and as usual he gave in, explaining what had happened between him and Trina at her house.
“Can you believe it?” he asked. “I was there as a favor and she showed me no gratitude. It wasn’t as if I broke her frame on purpose. And I said I was sorry!”
“What was in the picture frame?”
“A picture, of course,” Seth sputtered in exasperation.
“A picture of what?”
“I don’t know. I think it was of Trina and her mamm.”
Martha nodded, but remained silent as the realization washed over Seth. He reluctantly conceded, “Alright, I suppose she valued the frame because of the photo.”
“I think she valued both the photo and the frame because of the memory they contained.”
Seth sighed heavily. He remembered, as irrational as it was, after Eleanor died he’d kept her prayer kapp hanging on the bedpost until the day he and the baby boys moved out of the house. It wasn’t the kapp he cherished; it was that the kapp reminded him of all the times his wife faithfully prayed for their family.
“I’m not heartless,” he muttered.
“Neh, you’re definitely not. And Trina knows that. But in the moment, you probably seemed that way to her.”
Seth went to bed that night feeling sadder than he’d felt in a long time. So much for loving his neighbor; he’d all but stomped on Trina’s memories and then called her a scarecrow. He’d have to find a way to apologize.
* * *
Trina lay in bed and imagined calling a cab and running away from Willow Creek in the middle of the night without telling anyone she was going. Her mother had done it with even less education and resources than Trina had, so why couldn’t she?
Her mother. The tears hadn’t stopped flowing since her photo frame shattered across the floor. It was as if her mother herself was warning her about Amish men. Ha! What a joke it was for Seth to caution his sons not to get too close to her—the reverse was actually true. Trina should have been more cautious about getting too close to Seth. She had come dangerously close to trusting him, the way her mother must have trusted Trina’s father at first.
“Your daed was the opposite of mine,” Patience told Trina once she was old enough to begin dating. “He was physically and e
motionally demonstrative and I was starving for affection. But that wasn’t a good enough reason to marry him. When you date, Trina, don’t do it out of a sense of loneliness.”
Of course, Trina wasn’t dating Seth. Not even close. But if she was honest, she had to admit she had feelings for him that were more than just neighborly congeniality. And it was largely because she was lonely. How pathetic! she scolded herself. She would have left Willow Creek right then, but out of spite and the sheer willfulness to prove she could make it in that community she decided she’d stay. She wasn’t going to give up her inheritance—her mother’s home—just because of a couple of coldhearted men like Abe and Seth.
Plus, no matter that the boys were related to Seth, she couldn’t take off without at least saying goodbye to Timothy and Tanner. Nor could she leave Martha alone to care for them. Not yet. But the instant her sixty days were up, she was out of there. She wasn’t going to stick around until the house sold, either. She was feeling stronger now. She could get a teaching job again. She’d take out a loan until the sale went through so she could afford rent, or else she’d sell the house dirt cheap to the first buyer. But she wasn’t going to give up what was hers simply because a clumsy ox of a man thought she was materialistic and as scrawny as a scarecrow.
The next morning when she tried to button her skirt for church, she actually had to suck in her stomach to get it to close. It was true she’d lost a lot of weight and she supposed she did look scraggy to Seth, but she was making progress. She pulled on a dress, instead, and arranged her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck instead of her usual ponytail and set off for church.
Her New Amish Family Page 8