The English Son

Home > Other > The English Son > Page 4
The English Son Page 4

by Brunstetter, Wanda E. ; Brunstetter, Jean;


  CHAPTER 5

  Walnut Creek

  On Monday of the following week, Joel had finished a small job at a residence in Zoar and was now approaching Walnut Creek to take a look at another possible job. Unfortunately, neither would bring in a lot of money.

  Think I’ll stop at Rebecca’s Bistro and get something to eat, he decided. After the thirty-minute drive, Joel was even hungrier than before and ready to relax for a spell. He’d eaten at Rebecca’s before, and the food had always been good, so he looked forward to it.

  As Joel drew close to the small restaurant, he saw the parking lot was completely full. The long line of people standing at the entrance meant only one thing: it would be awhile until he got seated.

  Oh, great! Joel’s stomach rumbled in protest. Since he didn’t have time to wait and was getting hungrier by the minute, he pulled his truck into Der Dutchman’s parking lot. It was a bigger restaurant, and he could probably get in and out in half the time.

  When Joel entered the building he was taken to a seat near the windows. “Your waitress will be with you soon.” As the hostess handed Joel a menu, his stomach growled once again. Embarrassed, he mumbled, “Sorry. Guess my belly is screaming to be fed.”

  She grinned at him. “It’s okay. You’re in the right place to take care of that.”

  Joel nodded and picked up his cell phone, figuring he may as well check his messages while he waited. The only one he found was from Kristi, asking if he’d like to go for a run with her after work this afternoon. Some exercise might help relieve some of the stress Joel felt, but it would do nothing to earn the money he needed. Even gazing at the beautiful car parked in his shop did little to ease his troubled mind.

  Joel slipped his cell phone back in his pocket. If Kristi knew what I was planning to do when I get back to Akron, she wouldn’t want to go anywhere with me. Sure wish I didn’t have to do this, but I don’t see any other way.

  “Joel?”

  He jerked his head, surprised to see his youngest sister standing beside his table. “Doris, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m a waitress at this restaurant.”

  “Oh, I see. I… uh… didn’t realize you worked here.” Joel glanced down at his menu. Wish now I’d waited in line at Rebecca’s Bistro. Doris was two years older than Joel, and they’d been close when they were kids. But once they’d become teenagers, she’d disapproved of everything he did. Doris had lectured him more often than either of his other sisters. Joel hoped Doris wouldn’t start in on him now. If she did, he’d get up and walk out.

  “How have you been, Joel?” she asked.

  “Doin’ okay.” No way would he admit the financial mess he was in. It would only open the door for Doris to berate him about going English. “How ‘bout you? Everything goin’ okay in your life?”

  She nodded, although not a hint of a smile showed on her face. Was she angry at him for leaving home, or perhaps still grieving Mom’s death? Maybe something else was going on in her life.

  “Aren’t you going to ask how Dad and the rest of the family are doing?” she questioned.

  Joel’s face heated. “Umm… you haven’t given me much of a chance to ask. So how is everyone getting along these days?”

  “As well as can be expected. We all miss you. Are you too busy to drop by once in a while, or are you deliberately staying away?”

  Joel grimaced. Here we go with the lecture. “This is not the time or place to be talking about this. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like something to eat. My stomach’s about to jump out of my throat.”

  “Certainly. I see your appetite hasn’t changed, at least. What would you like to have?”

  Ignoring her sarcasm, Joel pointed to the menu. “I’ll have a roast turkey sandwich with fries. Oh, and a glass of chocolate milk would be nice.”

  “I’ll get your order turned in right away.” Doris paused, moving closer to the table. “Why don’t you come by for supper one night next week? I can make your favorite, hamburger and fries. In fact, we can do it picnic-style and get out the grill. I’ll invite the rest of the family. I’m sure they’d all like to see you.”

  Joel folded his arms. “Yeah, I’ll bet—especially Dad.” It was hard to turn down a grilled burger, but he wasn’t ready to face his entire family and be the focus of a thousand questions or the looks of irritation Dad often gave whenever Joel came around.

  She frowned. “Don’t be sarcastic, Joel. Dad may not say it, but he misses you, and so do the rest of us.”

  “The last time I visited, Dad didn’t say more than a few words to me. Does snubbing me sound like someone who misses his only son?”

  “I shouldn’t need to remind you that our daed is a man of few words.”

  Joel shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “Will you come to supper or not?”

  He shook his head. “I have a lot of work-related things going on right now. Maybe some other time.”

  Doris sighed. “I’ll be back when your order is ready.”

  Joel blew out his breath, wishing once again he had picked another restaurant.

  Joel had no more than finished his meal when he caught sight of a horse and buggy pulling into the section of the parking lot reserved for the Amish. That in itself was no surprise, since many Amish people patronized Der Dutchman. What surprised Joel was seeing who got out of the buggy. He grimaced as he watched his older sisters, Arlene and Elsie, accompanied by Dad, heading for the restaurant.

  Quickly, Joel grabbed his bill and rushed over to the cash register. While it might not be right to avoid them, he wasn’t in the mood for his sisters’ questions or Dad’s cold shoulder. After he’d paid for his meal, Joel realized if he went out the door right now he’d probably run head-on into his family. Rather than risk an encounter, he ducked into the restroom. He’d wait there until he was sure they’d been seated.

  As Joel stood at the sink, combing his hair, he thought about the last time he and Dad talked. It had been awkward, and there really hadn’t been much to say. Joel asked how Dad was doing, and Dad mumbled, “About the same.” Joel asked if Dad could spare five hundred dollars, and Dad had given it to him, but not without a lecture. Of course, Joel was used to that. He’d had plenty of lectures from Dad during his teenaged years. “Don’t stay out too late.” “You don’t need an expensive car.” “You’re full of hochmut, and pride goes before a fall.” Joel had heard it all.

  If Dad saw me driving the Corvette, he’d really believe I was full of pride. Well, it doesn’t matter. I deserve that car. I’ve waited a long time to get one like it.

  Thinking he’d given his family enough time to get seated, Joel opened the restroom door and peered out. No Amish in sight. He glanced toward the dining room and saw them seated at a table near the window, not far from where he’d been a short time ago. Relieved, he made a hasty exit. It was bad enough he’d seen Doris; Joel didn’t need to deal with Dad, too.

  As soon as Elsie entered the restaurant in Walnut Creek with Arlene and their father, she spotted their younger sister, Doris. “Let’s ask the hostess to seat us in Doris’s section,” she whispered to Arlene.

  “Okay, but we’d better not take up too much of her time visiting. We wouldn’t want to jeopardize her job.”

  “Doris is too schmaert for that,” Dad spoke up. “She knows better than to carry on a symposium all day with the customers when she oughta be tendin’ to business.”

  Elsie looked at Arlene and rolled her eyes. Their father had always been right to the point and never minced any words—even the big ones, which had become his trait.

  Soon after they were seated at a table, Doris showed up to take their order. “This is a pleasant surprise.” She gave them each a glass of water. “Seeing my schweschdere, daed, and bruder all in the same day—what more could I ask for?”

  Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Joel was here?”

  Doris nodded. “You missed him by five minutes or so.”

  “Did he come in to see you?
” Arlene asked.

  “No, he didn’t even realize I was working here until I came up to his table to wait on him.”

  “Humph! Bet you surprised him,” Dad muttered.

  “What did our bruder have to say?” Elsie questioned.

  “Not much.” Doris frowned. “I asked Joel if he’d like to come to our place for supper next week, but he used being too busy as an excuse. I even offered to make his favorite meal, but it didn’t seem to matter.”

  Deep wrinkles formed across Dad’s forehead as he pulled his fingers through the ends of his beard. “Sounds like he’s using the same old excuse, but the truth is, he never comes around unless he wants something.” He tapped his thumb on the menu. “Let’s place our orders and forget about your wayward bruder. I’m hungerich, and Doris needs to put in our orders.”

  Saying anything more about Joel would get them nowhere, so Elsie kept quiet. The mention of their brother was a touchy subject where Dad was concerned. It had been this way ever since Joel left the Amish church and walked away from his family in search of what he thought was a better life. Quickly scanning her menu, she looked up at Doris and suggested, “Why don’t you start with Dad? He probably knows what he wants already.”

  “Not really.” Dad shook his head. “I can’t decide between a hot dog and french fries, or the grilled cheese sandwich, also with fries.”

  “A hot dog’s not very healthy, Dad.” Doris pointed to the menu. “Why don’t you have a roast turkey sandwich and a cup of soup?”

  He scrunched up his nose. “No one can make a turkey sandwich the way your mamm does. I’ll stick with a hot dog.”

  Elsie glanced at Arlene, sitting beside her. Is she thinking what I’m thinking? Why does Dad sometimes talk about Mama as if she’s still alive? Does he forget occasionally, or is it simply his way of coping with her death?

  Arlene merely looked at Doris and said, “I’d like the strawberry crunch salad and a cup of vegetable soup.”

  “What about you, Elsie?” Doris held her pencil above the ordering pad.

  Elsie scanned the menu one more time. “I’ll have the soup and salad bar. I like a nice variety of veggies to choose from.”

  Dad let out an undignified snort. “You girls and your salads. You need a little meat to put on your emaciated bones.”

  Elsie’s forehead wrinkled. She wished her father didn’t use big words so often. “Our what?”

  “Emaciated bones. The word means, ‘skinny.’” He pointed at Arlene. “Especially you, Daughter. You’ve gotten way too thin since the boppli was born.”

  Elsie held her breath, waiting to see how her sister would respond, but Arlene merely picked up her glass of water and took a drink.

  Some things are better left unspoken, Elsie thought. Especially when it comes to knowing when or how to give a reply to something Dad has said.

  “Do any of you want anything other than water to drink?” Doris asked.

  Arlene and Elsie both shook their heads, but Dad was quick to say he wanted a glass of buttermilk. While some might find it strange to drink buttermilk with a hot dog, it was not uncommon for Dad. In fact, he had buttermilk with at least one of his meals every day. He’d been drinking it ever since Elsie could remember. Their mother had drunk it, too, but not as much as Dad. In fact, Mama made buttermilk biscuits and pancakes, which tasted so good. Elsie’s mouth watered, thinking about it. She missed those days when her mother and father were together. Mama had always kept Dad in good spirits with her heartfelt humor and gentle ways. She had known how to soften his temper and keep him moving in a positive direction. Now it was up to Doris, Arlene, and Elsie to look after Dad. Joel sure wasn’t going to help with that.

  “I’ll put in your orders and be back soon with your buttermilk.” Doris smiled at Dad and hurried from the table.

  “She looks thin, too,” Dad commented. “Bet she eats like a bird. Your mamm was a well-built woman. She was perfect for me.” He stared off into space and grunted. “My girls are just as pretty, though. They also attend church regularly and do well by their family, as well as others, which is more than I can say for that wayward son of mine.” Dad’s closed fist thumped the table. “Joel is spoiled by his wants and neglects those who should matter the most to him. He’s pushed his family aside and forgotten his Amish upbringing.” He sat back in his chair and slid his feet noisily forward under the table, the way he often did at home when he was upset.

  Elsie’s shoulders slumped as she let out a soft breath. She didn’t remember her father being so critical when Mama was alive. Could he be this way because he missed her so much and felt depressed? She couldn’t really blame him. But life moved on, and she hoped he would find some happiness.

  Wanting to talk about something else, Elsie looked out the window and pointed to the vivid blue sky. “Sure is a beautiful day. Not nearly as much humidity as last week.”

  “I know. The weather was miserable, but it’s good we got the canning done when we did.” Arlene smiled at Dad. “I’ll bring you some pickled beets soon. Would you like some?”

  He smacked his lips. “Sounds wunderbaar!”

  Elsie relaxed in her chair. At least the mention of beets had put Dad on a positive note. Now to keep things upbeat throughout the rest of their meal.

  CHAPTER 6

  Akron

  Kristi turned on the coffeemaker and fixed herself a piece of toast. She’d forgotten to set her alarm last night, but fortunately, the early morning light had awakened her. She still had several minutes to spare.

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drew Kristi to her kitchen for that first cup. Coffee wasn’t on her ideal drink list, but she made an exception for her morning brew to get a kick-start to her Friday morning.

  As Kristi sat at the table eating her low-calorie breakfast, she thought about Joel, and how, when they’d gone jogging last night, he’d acted strange—almost as if he was hiding something.

  But what could it be? She reached for the jar of sugar-free strawberry jelly to put on her toast. It was probably my imagination. He may have been tired. Kristi’s gaze fixated on her cup, watching the delicate swirl of steam rise from the surface of the coffee. She had a habit of over-analyzing things, especially where Joel was concerned. He had a business to run, which had to be stressful at times. Joel had a right to act sullen or moody when his day wasn’t going as planned. Kristi hoped once they were married, Joel wouldn’t let his business affect their relationship. If we ever get married. Joel still hasn’t bought me an engagement ring or suggested setting a wedding date. I don’t want to push him, but I wish he’d at least introduce me to his family.

  It wasn’t fair. Joel had met Kristi’s family, but she hadn’t met his. Every time the topic came up, Joel either changed the subject or said she wouldn’t fit in with his family, and for that matter, neither did he. Kristi figured he must have had a falling out with someone to be so dead set against her meeting them. She would have to be patient where his family was concerned. Maybe by the time she and Joel set a wedding date, he’d be ready to introduce her to them.

  Kristi glanced at her watch, then gulped down the rest of her coffee. She needed to make a sandwich for lunch and get out the door soon or she’d be late for work.

  Charm, Ohio

  Eustace Byler stood on his porch, gazing at the trees lining the back of his property. The smell of pine filled the morning air, and it seemed to melt his tensions away. Listening to the birds singing brought his thoughts to a sweeter time when his wife, Effie, used to say he ought to build a tree house so they could see things from the birds’ perspective. Eustace kept promising to construct the little house in the trees, but had never gotten around to it. The plans had been drawn up, but getting started seemed to be the hard part. Other things seemed more urgent.

  During the summer months, Effie spent time nearly every day relaxing in her favorite chair on the front porch with a cup of tea. She’d loved watching the birds and kept several feeders filled with a variety of
seeds to lure them in. She would often comment on the birds’ activity, listening to the steady chatter in undeniable disagreements as they competed for the best spot to perch. Effie used to say the birds were free entertainment at all times of the year.

  Eustace groaned. “Why’d your heart have to give out on you, Effie? Don’t ya know how much I still need you here by my side?” Someday he would build the tree house in memory of Effie. Then every time he went up there, he’d be reminded of his dear, loving wife.

  Eustace’s stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t had breakfast yet. Turning toward the house, he went inside and made his way to the kitchen. When his gaze came to rest on the gas stove, he was reminded once again how much he missed his wife. When she was alive, Eustace would come inside after doing his chores and could always count on Effie having breakfast waiting for him. The wonderful aromas of whatever she prepared would reach his nostrils before he got to the door. Now he had to fend for himself. Since he wasn’t the best cook in Holmes County, he usually ended up eating cold cereal or a piece of bread with peanut butter for breakfast. This morning, however, Eustace had a craving for steak and eggs. I’ll cook the steak on the grill.

  Eustace set the frying pan on the stove; took a carton of eggs, some ketchup, and the steak from the refrigerator; and went back outside. After he poured several briquettes into the bottom of the grill, he squirted lighter fluid over them and lit a match. Nothing happened. He added more fluid, lit a second match, and tossed it in.

  Whoosh! The flames shot up. Eustace jumped back, but not soon enough. The sulfur-like smell could only mean one thing: he’d singed his beard. To make sure the fire was out, he picked up the potholder he kept on the porch table and smacked at his beard several times. Then, placing the steak on the grill, he went back inside to check on the damage he’d done.

  One look in the bathroom mirror and Eustace realized his beard was more than half the length it had once been. To make matters worse, the singed ends were dark. He opened the medicine chest and took out a pair of scissors. He had no choice but to trim off the scorched part, which made his beard even shorter.

 

‹ Prev