The English Son

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by Brunstetter, Wanda E. ; Brunstetter, Jean;


  “You mean right now?”

  “Yes. There’s no time like the present.” Kristi reached for Joel’s hand and bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, Joel is disappointed because he didn’t get that job, but we’re trusting You to bring an even bigger job along for him. Thank You for hearing our prayer and for all You do on our behalf. Amen.”

  Kristi opened her eyes and smiled at Joel. He smiled back, but it appeared to be forced. Didn’t he realize no matter how big the problem seemed, God could take care of it and provide for his needs? She hated to admit it, but this was an indication of Joel not having a strong faith in God. Perhaps it would come in time.

  Berlin

  Doris Schrock stepped from her kitchen to the back porch, hoping to find some cool air. Not a single leaf in the yard moved. As far as she could see, everything was still. The stifling heat and humidity felt like thick fog. The restaurant where she worked in Walnut Creek had air-conditioning, so she’d been comfortable all day. But after putting a roast in her oven for supper here at home, the already warm kitchen had become almost unbearable. If the weather was cooler, she and her husband, Brian, could eat outside. But unless a sudden breeze came up, it would be as bad as eating in the house.

  She sighed deeply and stepped back inside. Brian should be in from his chores soon, and then they could eat.

  While Doris waited, she filled their glasses with iced tea and placed them on the table beside their plates—plates that used to belong to her mother.

  Unexpectedly, she thought of her brother, wondering what he was doing for dinner this evening. I wonder if he would come if I invited him here for a meal. It’s been awhile since any of the family has seen him. Does he miss us at all?

  Using a potholder, she opened the oven door to check on the roast. A wave of hot air hit her in the face. She waved the worst of it away, then poked the potatoes and carrots with a fork. They were done, and so was the meat. The supper she’d planned was probably not the best choice on an uncomfortable evening like this. Using the oven made the kitchen even more stifling. BLT’s would have been easier, but since the meat had already thawed, Doris didn’t have much choice. There wasn’t anything to do now except wait for Brian.

  She took a seat at the table to read the latest edition of The Bargain Hunter. It seemed like there were more ads than usual from people wanting to sell baby items. Several advertisements were for cribs, strollers, and high chairs.

  Tears pooled in her eyes. Short of a miracle, she would never own any of those things. Doris and Brian had been married six years, but God had not blessed them with children. It didn’t seem fair that Arlene, who was thirty-two, recently had a baby. Arlene’s pregnancy had been a surprise, since her youngest child, Scott, was eight years old.

  “But God knows best,” she murmured. “At least that’s what Mama used to say.”

  Doris’s tears dripped onto her cheeks. Her mother had died two years ago, but she still missed her so much. Dad missed her, too. The last time Doris went to his house, she’d caught him sitting on the sofa in the living room, looking at Mama’s rocking chair while talking to her as if she was still there.

  She and her sisters had tried talking their father into selling his house and moving in with one of them. But Dad insisted on staying in the home he and Mama had lived in since they first got married. Doris couldn’t really blame him. If something were to happen to Brian, she wouldn’t want to leave this house, either, even though it was small and needed a lot of repairs. They’d planned to add on, but with Brian so busy working for a local carpenter and completing all his chores at home, he hadn’t had time to build an addition. Still, this little house held memories, making her understand how Dad felt.

  I suppose it doesn’t matter. Since we have no children, we don’t really need a bigger place. Doris reached for a napkin and wiped her damp cheeks. I will not give in to self-pity. At least Brian and I both have jobs. A lot of people in our community are struggling financially, so I’m grateful.

  Hearing her husband’s footsteps on the stairs outside, Doris got up from the table and collected herself. She would not let Brian see her tears. She’d done too much crying already.

  Akron

  As the evening wore on, Joel became antsy. He wanted to be with Kristi and have a nice evening, but right now, he couldn’t deal with her questions. Before their meal, she’d questioned him about going to church. During the meal, she’d asked not once, but several times, if everything was alright between them, saying he seemed kind of sullen this evening. As they sat eating their dessert, Joel had assured her everything was fine, but not more than five minutes had passed, and she’d begun firing questions again.

  “I told you before, nothing is wrong. Now can we talk about something else?” he snapped, a bit too harshly. Truth was, Joel was worried about his financial situation, and talking about it only made him feel worse. What he wanted to do was go home, hop in the Corvette, and leave his troubles behind on the open road.

  “You haven’t asked about my weekend.” Kristi looked at him with misty eyes. “Don’t you want to hear about the shopping trip I took with my mom to Holmes County?”

  Not wanting to hurt her feelings, Joel nodded. He was drawn in by her eyes, which suddenly looked three shades bluer. “Sure, honey. Tell me what you bought.” He fingered her beautiful auburn hair.

  “Actually, I didn’t buy much. What I really wanted was an Amish-made quilt, but the ones Mom and I looked at were too expensive.” She paused to take a bite of her whoopie pie. “But I did buy a few quilted potholders. Those will look nice in our kitchen someday.”

  Our kitchen. Joel groaned inwardly, taking a toothpick from his shirt pocket. With his current financial situation, it could be some time before he had enough money to buy Kristi an engagement ring, let alone set a wedding date. If Mom were still alive, she’d say I was foolhardy for buying the Corvette. Maybe I was, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to own something I’d been wanting for a long time. Besides, how was I to know my bid on that job wasn’t the lowest? Thought it was a sure thing. Joel clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. Guess it’s what I get for not looking before I leaped. I need to figure a way out of this jam. Once I get some good money coming in, I’ll be fine again.

  CHAPTER 4

  Millersburg, Ohio

  I can’t believe how much produce my garden has yielded this summer,” Elsie Troyer commented as she stood at her kitchen sink, washing beets.

  Elsie’s sister, Arlene Miller, had been helping her can some of the bounty all morning. Tomorrow they would go to Arlene’s home in Farmerstown and do the same with her crop.

  The skin around Arlene’s blue eyes crinkled. “I am ever so thankful my older girls are willing to watch the boppli, or I’d never get anything done at home, much less be able to help you. Of course, once Martha and Lillian start back to school, I’ll be on my own with the baby and most household chores.”

  “If Mary didn’t have a job cleaning house, I’m sure she’d be willing to watch little Samuel, and so would Hope.” Elsie glanced out the kitchen window, where eleven-year-old Hope was busy pulling weeds in the garden. “If Hope came into the kitchen with the smell of pickled beets cooking, she’d plug her nose and say, ‘Eww… those are ekelhaft!’”

  “Oh, that’s right; your youngest daughter has never liked beets. It’s no wonder she thinks the odor is disgusting.”

  “I’d thought about bringing Samuel with me today, but Martha and Lillian needed to clean their rooms, so they’ll take turns minding the baby.”

  Elsie washed another beet and placed it in the bowl for Arlene to cut. “Yesterday I went over to Dad’s to clean his house.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He left a few minutes after I got there. Said he had an auction to go to.” Elsie wrinkled her nose. “I can’t believe how much junk Dad keeps on buying. He seems to have gotten worse since Mama died.”

  “He took her death pretty hard.” Arlene slowly shook her hea
d. “Dad’s always been a hoarder, but I believe he has more collections now than ever before. Larry says Dad has so many old milk cans sitting around the place he could start his own dairy. I enjoy going to yard sales, but only to look for practical things.”

  “And what about his collection of pens? I discovered two drawers in the kitchen desk, full of pens with different logos on them.” Elsie rolled her eyes. “It’s probably not the only place he’s stashed his collection of pens, either. Due to the money Dad’s gotten from the oil wells on his land, some people in our community have begun teasing him about being ‘The Amish Millionaire.’ Pretty soon, they’ll be calling him ‘The Eccentric Millionaire.’”

  Arlene chuckled. “Guess what Aunt Verna told me once.”

  “About Dad?”

  “Jah. She said even when he was a little guy he hoarded things. Since she’s ten years older than Dad, I’m sure she remembers many of the things he did as a child.”

  “Did she say what kind of things he hoarded?”

  “Not really. But she explained how he used to cry whenever their mamm threw anything out. He wanted to save everything.”

  “That’s interesting. I’ll have to ask Aunt Verna for more details the next time she comes for a visit.”

  Arlene’s lips compressed. “Please don’t ask her in front of Dad. He wouldn’t take too kindly to us talking about his strange habits.”

  “You’re right, but then maybe he thinks there’s nothing odd about his habits. He might believe his actions are normal and we’re being too scrutinizing of his ways. Anyway, while we’re on the subject of our daed, what would you think about the two of us taking him out for lunch sometime soon? He enjoys eating at Der Dutchman in Walnut Creek, and we’ll make sure Doris is working the day we go, so we can say hello to her, too.”

  Arlene nodded. “Good idea. Whoever sees Dad first can ask if he’d like to go.”

  Farmerstown, Ohio

  “How’s our little fellow doing?” Arlene asked her twelve-year-old daughter, Martha, when she returned home later in the afternoon.

  Martha motioned to her four-month-old brother sleeping contentedly in his crib. “Samuel did well. When I was busy doing other things, Lillian kept him entertained.” She spoke softly.

  “Good to hear,” Arlene whispered. “Did you both get your rooms cleaned like I asked?”

  “Mine’s all done. Lillian’s upstairs finishing hers.”

  “I’m glad, because it’ll be time to start supper soon, and I’ll need both of you in the kitchen to help.”

  “How’d it go at Aunt Elsie’s?” Martha asked after they’d left the baby’s room.

  “It went well. We got lots of beets canned, and some corn frozen, too. Elsie will be coming to help me tomorrow.”

  “Do English people help their family members as much as we Amish do?” Martha blinked her brown eyes.

  Arlene shrugged. “I’m sure many of them do.”

  Martha gave her mother a hug. “I’m glad to be part of a family that cares about each other.”

  She gently patted her daughter’s back. Unfortunately, one of our family members doesn’t seem to care much about anyone but himself. Arlene did not voice her thought.

  The distinctive clip-clop of horse’s hooves coming up the driveway could be heard. Martha rushed to the kitchen window. “It’s Grandpa’s rig, Mom. Is he comin’ for supper?”

  “I wasn’t expecting him,” Arlene replied, “but he’s always welcome, so we’ll invite him to stay.”

  “I’ll go help him put his horse away.” Martha hurried out the door.

  Arlene smiled. Her oldest daughter had always been helpful. Martha was also quite fond of her grandfather. Perhaps it was because they had something in common. Like him, Martha enjoyed collecting unusual things. Since Arlene’s father lived nearby, they got to see him fairly often; whereas her husband, Larry’s, parents lived in Wisconsin and the children weren’t able to see them as much.

  Arlene opened the refrigerator and took out the chicken she planned to fix for supper. She’d finished cutting it up when Dad entered the house with Martha.

  “I have something for the boppli,” he announced, grinning. “It’s a wooden rocking horse I got at the auction today. I left it sitting in the utility room.” He removed his straw hat, revealing a crop of thick brown hair with a few streaks of gray. If it weren’t for Dad’s full gray beard, no one would have guessed he was sixty-five years old.

  “Danki. I appreciate the gift for the baby.” Arlene moved toward him. “Where’s the greeting you give whenever we see each other?”

  Dad held out his arms. Arlene dried her hands on a paper towel and stepped into his embrace. It felt good to be hugged by her father. Dad’s hugs were sincere, and Arlene always felt she was loved. She was certain he loved all four of his children, but Dad often said he felt closer to his three girls. Most likely it was because they all lived close, and he got to see them on a regular basis. Their brother, on the other hand, rarely came around.

  Smiling, Arlene clutched Dad’s arm. “I saw Elsie earlier today. We were wondering if you’d like to go out to lunch with us—maybe one day next week.”

  “Sounds good to me.” He hung his hat on the wall peg nearest him. “Where do ya want to go?”

  “How about Der Dutchman? Since Doris works there, we’ll get to see her, too—at least for a little while.”

  “Name the day. I’ll be ready to go.” Dad turned and tweaked Martha’s upturned nose. “I’ll bet you’d like to go, too, wouldn’t ya?”

  Martha nodded. “But someone will have to babysit Samuel, so I’ll probably stay home. Besides, you and your dochders deserve some time together without the grandkids hanging around.”

  Dad peered at Arlene over the top of his glasses. “This girl’s a schmaert one, just like her mamm.”

  Arlene smiled in response. “I’m frying chicken for supper, Dad. Would you like to stay and eat with us?”

  “Sure would.” Dad shuffled across the room and took a seat at the table. “Mind if I sit here and watch you cook? When your mamm was alive I used to keep her company in the kitchen whenever I could.” He thumped his belly a couple of times. “Smellin’ all the good food helped me work up a voracious appetite.”

  “What’s that word mean?” Martha asked.

  “It means ‘greedy or ravenous.’”

  Martha snickered, draping her arms around his chest from behind the chair he sat on. “I love you, Grandpa.”

  “That goes double for me.” Grinning, he reached up and patted her hand.

  “Would you like something to drink, Dad?” Arlene asked.

  “Got any sweet tea in the refrigerator?”

  “Sure do.”

  “I’ll get you a glass, Grandpa.” Martha went to get the beverage. When she returned, she placed it in front of him. “I put in some extra ice to help you cool off.”

  “Danki, that was thoughtful of you.” Dad’s face sobered, and the wrinkles around his brown eyes deepened. “Saw our bishop at the auction today. He thinks I oughta look for another fraa. Even said a few of the widows in the area might be interested in me.”

  “How do you feel about that?” Arlene asked, already sure of the answer.

  He grunted and shook his head. “Don’t need another wife. I told the bishop so, too. I’m gettin’ along adequately on my own. Besides, no other woman could ever fill your mamm’s shoes. My Effie was one in a million. She will always remain my fraa.” As if the matter was entirely settled, Dad picked up the newspaper lying on his end of the table and snapped it open.

  Arlene looked at her daughter and smiled. The whole family knew he had a stubborn streak. If Dad didn’t want another wife, it didn’t matter how many widows in their community were interested in him. Unless someone really special came along to change his mind, he’d no doubt remain single for the rest of his life.

  Akron

  Holding a glass of orange juice, Joel sank onto his couch with a groan. Lemonade would
have tasted better, but orange juice was all he had in the refrigerator right now. At least it was cold. Joel had done a small job today on his own, knowing he couldn’t pay anyone to help him right now. For that matter, he’d been trying to dodge several of his subcontractors all day. One he’d seen at the parts store. Another had called, asking for his money. A third man, who did the electrical work for most of Joel’s jobs, had shown up at the house he’d been working on this morning, demanding his money. Joel told each of them the same thing: “I’m a little short on funds right now, but I’ll get you paid as soon as I can.”

  Joel would keep his feelers out. He’d need a lot of jobs to get through the mess he’d gotten himself into. Usually he was asleep before his head hit the pillow, but Joel had a hard time getting to sleep last night due to his circumstances.

  He rubbed his sweaty forehead. Right now, he felt like a defenseless cat being chased by an angry dog. It was his own fault for spending money he should have used to pay the people he owed. But the mistake had been made, and he wasn’t about to give up the car—if he could even find a buyer with that kind of money.

  Sweat rolled down Joel’s temples as he glanced at the air conditioner he’d placed in the living-room window to help beat the heat. One lousy little unit wasn’t enough to cool his single-wide, even if his home was small. If the weather cooled later, maybe he would sleep outside tonight.

  I can’t wait till I have enough money to build a new house. Sure can’t marry Kristi and expect her to live in these cramped quarters, either. She deserves better than this.

  Joel’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket to check the caller I.D. “Wish I could hide myself or become invisible until I have the money I need to right my debts,” he muttered. Seeing the caller’s name, he realized it was Rick, the plumber who usually worked for him. He probably wanted his money, too. Ignoring the call, Joel let his voice mail kick in. He couldn’t deal with this right now. If he didn’t get another big job quickly, he may have to do something drastic.

 

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