SummerHill Secrets, Volume 2

by Beverly Lewis

  Would I be sitting here if Faithie were alive tonight? I asked myself. Would I be contemplating my future?

  I pictured the two of us sitting on the steps, pointing out one star after another, maybe even spotting a planet or two. She would be wearing different pajamas than mine, though. Even as a little girl, she’d had strong opinions about our not looking exactly alike—doing our hair different, wearing distinct outfits. I was pretty sure, though, that we’d be barefoot if we were here together. Letting the cool green grass tickle our feet was something we always liked to do in the evening hours when the day was dying down. And she would’ve liked cuddling up with the cats. As for her taking in strays, I doubt it.

  If Faithie had continued as she was—much more like Mom—she probably would’ve shied away from having so many pets. She might’ve turned out to be intolerant toward my cats, the way Mom often was. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t have needed so many cats, or any at all, if Faithie had lived.

  “Oh, Lord, I wish I could get past the hurdle of my sister’s death. It’s like a shadow shrouding the gateway to my future.”

  I thought of Jingle Belle, how she would only take her milk when I held the nursing bottle. What did it mean? Could she sense my great personal loss?

  Sitting outside under the vast sky, it was easy to feel sorry for myself, being the surviving twin. I often wondered why God hadn’t let Faithie live instead of me. Why not her? Was it because she was born first—twenty minutes before me? She always had to be the first to show Mom and Dad her report card, first to wrap her Christmas presents, and first in most any footrace. Did she have to outdistance me and beat me to heaven, too?

  I leaned back on my elbows, staring hard at the sky. It was turning slate gray, and the stars seemed brighter than before. In the stillness, I wondered what the insects were saying to each other. Were they calling back and forth, “We can sing louder than you”? “No, we can…we can…” Were they debating the time of tomorrow’s sunrise?

  Sighing, I listened till the choristers blended into one clamorous cadenza. The half moon surprised me when it appeared, floating up over the trees, its light clinging to the east side of the gazebo. A lonely owl hooted into the chaos of the night chorus, and I felt a slight chill.

  One thing I knew for sure: Rachel’s lamb had stirred up everything about Faithie’s death. Jingle and I had connected somehow. We were linked with a common cord. And God had answered my prayer for the sick baby animal.

  I sighed, looking down as I felt two furry bodies pushing into my lap. Just as I thought, Abednego and Lily White had made their presence known. They didn’t want to miss out on getting attention.

  “Where have you been?” I asked, petting them both. “Did you think I’d gone and left you?”

  Mew. Abednego had the audacity!

  “Don’t you know I’d never do that,” I insisted. “You can count on me!”

  “I will not leave you comfortless…” The verse in John’s gospel popped into my mind. It had been one of the Scripture readings at Faithie’s funeral. Our pastor had said God would never abandon us in our sorrow. He would take care of us in our loneliness, in our sadness.

  “God cares more about me than I care for my cats,” I said aloud, surprising myself.

  God cares…

  I stayed outside another fifteen minutes or so, letting the truth sink in. The insects had calmed down. I hadn’t been aware of the silence until now. No more competitive chirping and singing back and forth between bushes.

  The moon’s light had shifted. Now it lay across the back steps, where I was surrounded by cats. The beauty of the night and the stillness made me feel like crying. The tears came for all the days and nights I had missed Faithie. All the life experiences we might’ve shared together.

  I wiped my nose on the hem of my pajama top, something my twin would never have done. Realizing that, I began to snicker.

  Getting up, I opened the door and headed back into the house. Without saying good-night to either of my parents, I made a beeline to my room and fell on my knees beside my bed.

  Would God answer my prayer and lift my burden? Was it too much to ask?

  Chapter

  10

  I should’ve known Mom would have a hefty breakfast spread out when I came downstairs. Several days had passed since she’d last made waffles. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and jelly toast were her usual fare, even when things were rushed. But today it was the works, and I reminded her that it was only Thursday. “Not Saturday brunch.”

  “It’s your next-to-last week of school before summer vacation,” she said, which made absolutely no sense to me. “You need a good breakfast to keep you going.”

  “I don’t get it, Mom. You don’t have to knock yourself out making all this food. It’s just breakfast, for pete’s sake.”

  She ignored my comments and set about pouring orange juice in her best juice glasses. “Your father and I are going to Bird-in-Hand to talk to a Mennonite antique dealer today.”

  “Have fun,” I said offhandedly.

  Mom must’ve picked up on the tone of my remark. She turned, and then I noticed she was still wearing her bathrobe. “What’s the matter, Merry?” she asked.

  Since Mom hardly ever wore her bathrobe downstairs, I guess I might’ve been staring at her. “What…what did you say?”

  “The antique business,” she stated. “You seem opposed to the idea.”

  “Oh, I don’t really care,” I answered, wondering how I should proceed. “I guess it’s not the coolest thing, dealing in ancient history. That’s all.”

  Mom sat across the table from me. Her face was crestfallen. “Merry, honey, I’d like to say something.”

  I nodded, feeling lousy now. Dad had asked me to please reach out to Mom, not alienate her with flippant remarks.

  She sighed audibly. “You may not realize this, but I happen to like the idea of selling antiques. It’s one of my goals…something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.”

  “Since Skip went to college?” I asked, hoping it was the right thing to say.

  “Long before that,” she replied, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I’d say I’ve wanted to do the antique thing ever since you and Faithie were born.”

  Faithie…

  So I was right.

  “Authentic antiques have a unique quality.” She paused, smiling faintly. “I feel renewed when I’m surrounded by the past.”

  “Old things won’t bring Faithie back,” I said softly.

  Her eyes widened, her forehead creased into a deep frown. “Excuse me?”

  I shook my head. “Oh nothing.”

  “No…you said something quite startling, Merry. I think we should talk about this.”

  Glancing at my watch, I saw that we didn’t have time for a knockdown, drag-out conversation. Unfortunately, I had a desperate feeling that’s what it might turn out to be. “Can it wait till after school?”

  We both heard Dad’s footsteps at the same time. “Perhaps,” she said, sounding worse than forlorn. She was heartbroken. Thanks to me.

  Once again, I’d made a fatal error. First Jon, then Chelsea, and now Mom. “I’m sorry,” I managed to say before Dad came in and sat down. He reached for the newspaper and opened it, which was a good thing. For now, he wouldn’t see the sadness in Mom’s eyes.

  I, on the other hand, observed her grief all too well.

  To top things off, Chelsea was sitting next to Jon when I boarded the bus. They were having a lively conversation, so I walked past them and sat farther back, where I could observe them in private. I had no idea what was going on. But Chelsea was up to something—I could count on it!

  Several times during the ride to school, Jon glanced back at me. I managed to divert my eyes so that he wouldn’t think I was watching them. It had nothing to do with jealousy because I knew Chelsea had no interest in Jon Klein. And even if she had, I knew perfectly well how Jon felt about me. He and I had been good friends since elementary school, and only
recently had we decided to go out.

  Chelsea actually waited for me to get off the bus. “Can we talk now?” She was asking me! She fell into step with me, and I kept my eye on Jon as he hurried into the school ahead of us. “I’ll be straight with you, Merry,” she began.

  “What?”

  “You’ve got plenty of competition, in case you don’t know.”

  “What’re you talking about?” I said.

  “Jon wants to know why you stood him up for the hike.”

  I felt the same resentment as yesterday when she accused me of the same thing. “I told you, I didn’t stand him up.”

  She waved her hand. “Call it what you like. Truth is, you’ve been ignoring him.”

  “Why should you care?”

  “Jonathan’s my friend,” she replied. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you hurt him.”

  I had no idea where she was going with this. “Jon and I will work it out,” I told her. “Stay out of it.”

  She gave me a severe frown and flounced off.

  Immediately, I headed for Jon’s locker. Before I could think twice and chicken out, I walked right up to him and said, “I don’t think it’s fair what you’re saying about me.”

  He turned to look at me, his brown eyes thoughtful. His shirt was a soft yellow, which brought out the gold flecks in his eyes, and his gorgeous brown hair shone. “I really just want us to get along, Merry.”

  “How is that possible with you spreading things around behind my back?”

  “I don’t want anyone else getting in the way,” Jon answered.

  “Who’re you talking about?” I said right out. “Is there someone you’d rather ask out? Is that it?”

  He was shaking his head. “No, I hope you’ll spend time with me, Merry.”

  I knew I had to set the record straight. He suspected Levi and I were getting too friendly. “You don’t have to second-guess me, Jon. If you want to know why I’ve been spending so much time at Zooks’, it’s because of an orphan lamb.”

  His eyes softened. “A lamb?”

  “That’s right, and her name is Jingle Belle. She was desperate—dying—for a name, among other things….”

  By the time the homeroom bell rang, I’d told him the entire sad story. How Jingle needed me, how she wouldn’t eat much for anyone else. How she was mourning her family.

  “This is incredible,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me Monday?”

  “I should’ve…I know.”

  He reached for my hand and held it. “Oh, Merry, forgive me?”

  My heart nearly flipped out of my chest as he continued to hold my hand there in the hallway as the entire population of James Buchanan High filed by. “I’m sorry, too.”

  On my way to homeroom, I wondered how I could smooth things over with both Mom and Chelsea. I would definitely try. Still, I couldn’t help but think Chelsea had meant to interfere. I was going to find out the truth. At lunch!

  I would give it my best shot with my outspoken girl friend. Chelsea was a new Christian, so I knew I must be very understanding toward her. I would close my mouth and open my ears—hear her out completely.

  Searching the cafeteria, I saw her sitting alone. “Thank goodness, I found you,” I said, nearly breathless as I scooted in next to her.

  She kept chewing her sandwich, glancing at me out of the corner of her eyes.

  “I don’t know why you were so upset about the hike thing…and Jon and me,” I began. “But it’s okay now, he and I are cool. We talked.”

  She turned toward me. “It’s just that I know how crazy you were over him for such a long time. I couldn’t stand by and let the two of you self-destruct.” She went on to say that there were other girls in the youth group at church. “They’ve got their eyes on Jon.”

  “Plenty of girls do. I’m not stupid.”

  Chelsea nodded. “He’s always been so ‘out there’—on another planet somewhere—when it came to the opposite sex. I honestly thought he’d never figure out the girl-boy thing. But now with you and him together…well, it’s almost too good to be true.”

  I agreed. “You don’t have to worry. I haven’t been avoiding Jon. He knows where I’ve been hanging out all week.” Then I told her the lamb story.

  She laughed out loud. “I don’t believe this! You’ve been lamb-sitting?”

  After further explanation, she seemed to understand. “I don’t know about you, Mer. You’ve always been a little strange, but this…?”

  “Sometimes even I don’t know about me,” I muttered.

  She didn’t catch the tone of my remark, and I was glad. I really didn’t care to explain my present mournful state. Knowing Chelsea, she might not understand that, either.

  Chapter

  11

  After school, Jon showed up at my locker. He waited for me to collect my books, and then we walked to the bus. We sat together and talked all the way to SummerHill. When the bus stopped, I stood up to get off.

  Jon jumped up. “Mind if I walk you home?”

  I knew if he did, he’d have a long walk to his own house. “You don’t have to,” I said.

  “But I want to, Merry.” His smile softened my heart.

  “Okay.” Inside, I was secretly thrilled beyond words.

  We took our sweet time walking up the hill that led to my parents’ hundred-year-old farmhouse. Old, gnarled trees and the willow grove to the north surrounded us as we talked. “My sister used to think it would be fun to live in the woods,” I told him.

  “Faithie was really special,” he replied. “I remember, in kindergarten, she painted a picture of a tree house.”

  I was shocked that he remembered. “You remember that?”

  He nodded, his eyes smiling. “That, and lots more.” He paused for a second. “Mostly I remember you, Mistress Merry.”

  “We’ve known each other nearly forever,” I said, looking down at the road.

  “I’m glad about that.” He seemed shy just then.

  “Me too,” I said.

  We talked of other school memories. Funny things that happened, and some not so funny. Later, Jon brought up the lamb at the Zooks’. “Sometime, I’d like to see her,” he said.

  “I thought you might want to take some pictures of Jingle. You know, for your photography class.”

  “That would be cool.” He surprised me and reached for my hand. I have to admit I couldn’t believe how fantastic it felt, holding hands with Jon again. At school and now here, on SummerHill Lane. I’d dreamed of this since forever, and now it was happening. I could hardly believe he’d decided to walk me home today. And I was pretty sure my mom would invite him in for her usual cookies and lemonade after-school menu.

  “I’ll ask Rachel if you can take some farm shots for your class next time I see her.”

  “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  “I don’t think the Zooks will mind.”

  “Just so I don’t focus on them, right?” Jon said.

  I agreed that it was a good idea to aim the lens only at the sheep. “You know how the Amish are about cameras. They despise having their pictures taken.”

  He laughed. “I’ve heard.”

  We slowed our pace as we approached the front yard of my house. At the mailbox, he stopped. “Merry, I think of you as my best friend.” His eyes were shining. “I have for a long time.”

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me.” I felt completely comfortable admitting it.

  “I think the Alliteration Game helped make the friendship connection stronger with you. You have no idea how shy I was back then—sorta had my head in the clouds, too. I’m glad we’ve moved on to a different level of friendship.”

  “Me too.”

  “You don’t miss the word game, do you?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

  “Sometimes, but talking like this is much better.”

  I loved hearing his soft laughter. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Merry…or ever hoped to have.”<
br />
  I couldn’t honestly say that back to him because of Faithie. She’d been my best friend, of course. “I’ve been hoping you’d say that ever since we sat across from each other in fourth grade.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I remember. Guys don’t really notice girls, I guess, till later on.”

  “Well, we found each other. That’s what matters,” I said, matching his stride as we headed up the front lawn and around the side to the back door. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

  Mom was waiting on the back steps, smiling to beat the band. “Merry…Jon! Please come inside.”

  “You’d better be hungry,” I whispered.

  He chuckled and followed me into the kitchen.

  I would’ve expected Mom to still be a little ticked at me. Instead, I was surprised by her enthusiasm. She seemed positively delighted to see me. And Jon, too.

  The reason for her joy was forthcoming. Mom and Dad had spent their entire day discussing at length the ins and outs of running an antique dealership. And now my mother was sharing every conceivable tidbit of information with Jon and me—whether we wanted to hear about it or not.

  “It’s going to be quite a venture,” she said, offering the plate of cookies to Jon for the second time.

  He was polite, of course, and listened to her babble on. Several times his gaze caught mine, and we shared a furtive glance. I was sure he was bored out of his mind, yet he sat there listening intently.

  “Rachel Zook said she would help with your store if you ever need her,” I said, making small talk.

  “How sweet of her,” Mom said. Then, quite unexpectedly, she added, “Speaking of Rachel, her brother dropped by this afternoon.”

  I gulped inwardly. Not now, Mom! I thought. Don’t talk about Levi in front of Jon!

  “Was Martha with him?” I asked, hoping she’d take the hint.

  She looked puzzled, slowly catching on, I could only hope. “I didn’t see her, no.”

  “Well, she’s here visiting Levi’s family,” I managed to say. “Rachel thinks Levi and his girlfriend will soon be engaged.”