“Danke,” Mrs. Knoxx said. “Even when he was young Michael never did like to ask for help. It seems that some things never change.” Looking determined, she strode inside, Evan and Molly on her heels.
When only she and Mr. Knoxx remained, he looked at Beverly with solemn eyes. “There’s a chance we’re going to have to get him to the hospital tonight. Would you help us arrange transportation?”
“Of course. One of my neighbors drives for the Amish. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking you if that’s what you decide you need to do.”
“I hope I am wrong, but unfortunately his doctors have told me that he might need surgery again. That time might have come.”
When the door opened and Mrs. Knoxx peeked her head out, Beverly realized that he was probably right. The expression on Mrs. Knoxx’s face told Beverly everything she needed to know.
To the rest of the world, Michael Knoxx might be a symbol of invincibility, capable of withstanding pain and all kinds of human frailties. Beverly now knew better, however. He put on a good face, but at the moment, he was just as susceptible to aches and pains as anyone. And actually, what he really needed now was someone who didn’t see him as anything but a man in great need of a friendly, helping hand.
Thank the good Lord that she still had two good ones.
CHAPTER 4
Twelve hours later, Penny was still feeling the sting of Michael Knoxx’s cool brush-off.
Oh, she hadn’t expected him to want to chat with her for hours. Or even be especially excited to learn that he had a new fan in Sarasota.
Actually, if she was being completely honest, she’d never imagined that a man like him would feel like paying much attention to her anyway. After all, he was Michael Knoxx, the most famous member of the Knoxx Family, a mighty renowned group.
She, on the other hand? Well, she was Penny Troyer. A girl who was a bit mousey, a whole lot of an introvert, and until very recently, practically a prisoner in her own home.
But even taking all that into consideration, she had assumed he would have recognized her sincere attempt to help him, accepting that even girls in small towns like Pinecraft were capable of offering a helping hand.
At the very least, she’d thought he would be kind.
He definitely had not been.
Instead of thanking her for her stopping to ask about him, he’d hardly looked her in the eye. Instead of thanking her for her praises about his speech, he’d looked irritated. His tone of voice had been clipped and cool, nothing at all like the smooth, almost melodic words she’d heard floating down from the loudspeaker in the pavilion.
In short, meeting him had been a disappointment. And it would have been even if it hadn’t been obvious that he’d thought she was some kind of creepy, adoring fan.
And while she had been a fan—and okay, for a few minutes, she’d been rather close to adoring him—she had never been creepy. Besides, pretty much every girl there had been gazing at him the same way she had.
Surely there was nothing wrong with admiring a man who was fit and healthy and sported dark blond hair and striking hazel eyes with golden flecks?
No doubt even the Lord himself would have admired His handiwork in Michael Knoxx.
Still, she had not stopped for him because she’d thought he was special. Instead, she’d been worried about him. He had looked like he was in pain. She’d stopped for him the way she would have for anyone, whether they’d recently been on a stage sharing their incredible story of survival or merely sitting in the audience.
She was still stewing over their brief conversation the next morning after she finished her chores and went into the kitchen to have breakfast with her parents.
As usual, her mother had made a platter of pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, and bacon accompanied by a big bowl of sliced fruit. It was always delicious and always too much for the three of them. Her mother just couldn’t seem to prepare anything for less than four people, and her father still couldn’t bear to invite anyone over. Neither seemed able to admit that they’d been a family of three for a long time now.
After they said grace silently, Penny dug in. Once again, her mother’s pancakes were light and fluffy and the tropical syrup she made from scratch was the perfect combination of sweet citrus and tang.
“Mamm, everything is wunderbaar,” she said, thinking once again that it really was a shame no one else ever got to try her mother’s wonderful-gut pancakes.
“Danke. It is gut to see you eating. I’m glad you joined us.”
Holding a forkful of sliced oranges, Penny paused. “What do you mean by that? I always enjoy your Saturday breakfasts.” She was also always home.
Well, except for last night.
“We thought maybe you were going to change your mind about eating breakfast here.”
“Why?”
“Because you seem so intent on getting away from us.”
If she had been alone, Penny would have closed her eyes and groaned in frustration. Her mother’s ability to heap on the guilt was alive and well. “Just because I went to the gathering with friends last night doesn’t mean I’ve changed.”
“Did you enjoy yourself?” her father asked with a pointed glare. “Did you like being out among so many strangers?”
Irritation rode up her spine. The way her daed was eyeing her was making her more than a little uneasy. “I did have a good time.”
“And how was the Knoxx Family’s latest performance? Did you get your fill of staring at the illustrious Michael Knoxx?”
Though her cheeks were no doubt turning red, she protested his description. “Daed, it wasn’t a performance. You know the Knoxx Family would never describe their testimony like that.”
“They sing.”
“The daughter does. She sang ‘Amazing Grace,’ which many people in the audience sang along with. But mainly it was the men talking about their walk with the Lord. And Michael Knoxx told his tale about being stuck alone in a ravine for days.”
Her father rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure he told all about his adventure. In detail.”
“It was hardly an adventure, Daed. Michael lost part of a leg.”
“Jah. I know how he lost his leg. A person would have to be deaf not to hear about it.” With a grunt, her father put down his fork. “They use one event that happened to them years ago for their own personal glory.”
Penny hated how her father was reducing Michael’s story to a mere publicity-seeking stunt. “Did you go to see them last night, too?”
“You know I did not.”
“Have you heard them speak before?”
“Of course not. But I have heard accounts about the Knoxx Family and the way they promote themselves.”
“If you had heard Michael Knoxx speak for yourself, I think you would feel differently about his message, Daed. At least I certainly hope you would!”
Her mother gasped at her raised voice, just as if Penny had stood up and yelled at them. “Penny, you will show your father respect.”
Knowing that protesting would do no good, Penny simply cut another bite of pancake.
“Since we’re discussing your behavior, I think I should mention that you came home later than expected,” her father continued.
She was now completely miffed. “Nee, I came home earlier than I had thought I would,” she corrected. “A lot of people were going to each other’s houses to play cards or talk but I decided to come home instead.”
Her parents exchanged looks. “Thank goodness you showed that little bit of sense at least,” her mother said before taking a fortifying breath. “So, today I thought we would get a head start on some Christmas projects.”
“Mamm, it is April.”
“Jah, but with so many of your cousins having bopplis, we’ve got a lot of baby quilts to make.”
The unintentional reminder of how the other girls in their extended family were living their lives dissolved the last of Penny’s appetite.
And just like that, she kne
w she was going to have to keep pressing for more freedom and independence. It was becoming obvious that her parents intended to treat her evening out as a one-time thing. Since she’d not even had her rumspringa, Penny knew it was past time.
She was going to need to push a little harder for independence, and do it immediately.
Pushing her plate away, she said, “Mamm, I enjoy quilting with you, and I want to help you make Christmas presents. But I have other plans for today.”
“What is that?” her father asked.
Penny took a breath, prayed for courage, and then blurted, “I’m going to go find a job.”
“What?” Her mother gasped for at least the third time that morning. “Why in the world do you need a job? We give you everything you need.”
No, they had given her everything they’d thought she needed. And while her material needs might have been met, Penny was certain that she needed more for herself. Getting out last night had made her realize just how sheltered she’d become. And after she got over the sting of Michael Knoxx’s brush-off, Penny had come to realize that she not only needed to leave the house more, but she needed to get to know more people her age. She needed friends, men and women, with whom to try new experiences. And to fund those things, she was going to need money.
However, she wasn’t quite ready to be completely honest and up-front. “I want to do something on my own,” she said slowly. “I want to meet other people. I want to feel good about myself.”
Her father glared. “All you are doing is setting yourself up for disappointment.”
Though she’d imagined that they would do everything possible to dissuade her, the comment took her by surprise. “Why is that?”
“Jobs are hard to come by and you have no qualifications.”
His harsh words felt like a slap in the face. More than that, really. “I was good in school,” she pointed out. But even to her ears her statement seemed woefully inadequate.
“You have no experience. And at your age, people will expect that you should.”
“At my age?” This was something new. She was twenty-four, not forty-four. Surely no one expected someone in their twenties to have loads of experience.
“Most girls your age have been doing all sorts of things,” her father replied. “Amish girls leave school at fourteen. Most have had ten years’ experience at something or another by now.”
“I realize that.” The years had passed in a haze of grief for her sister and the fear of the unknown. Though she’d been intent on obeying her parents, she’d also allowed herself to become a recluse. But at last, she’d summoned the courage to finally do something different. It was time to start stretching herself, to take responsibility for her life.
“Lissy would most likely have already done all sorts of things by now,” her father added somewhat desperately.
Penny was so hurt, she could barely get out her next words. “Lissy would have?”
“Lissy was special.”
Penny knew that. Penny had always known that.
But while she would never have her sister’s beauty, independent nature, easy smile, or even her beautiful, oh-so-feminine name, Penny had thought her parents would one day notice her worth, too. Actually, a small part of her had felt sure her parents would agree it was time she spread her wings—once they got their heads around the idea of her being more independent.
But now, her parents’ point of view was starting to look mighty clear. Her parents had been keeping her close to them on purpose. They hadn’t wanted her to have lots of other options. They kept her nearby for their own selfish reasons, so that she would never get away. But it wasn’t because they especially wanted her near. No, to them she would always be a poor substitute for her sister.
And while she still wasn’t prepared to think the worst of them, she couldn’t bear to imagine that they’d kept such a tight hold on her for any reason other than the fear of losing her. It was now plain, to her at least, that they’d hoped that she would always be dependent on them.
Which was terribly unfair.
A temper that she’d never known she possessed filled her just then. Suddenly, all she knew was that she couldn’t stay in this kitchen, pretending to have a meaningful, caring conversation about her future for another minute.
“I need to leave.” With a jerk, she stood up so abruptly that her chair scraped the floor.
Her mother blinked in confusion. “Penny, what in the world has gotten into you?”
“Everything,” she said, thinking that just about summed it up. Everything had finally gotten into her. A backbone. Goals. Even the Lord’s caring whispers that she wasn’t leading the life He had given her. Instead, she’d merely been in some kind of holding pattern.
Lost without even knowing it.
Her mother was now staring at her as if she were a foundling who’d come calling unannounced and uninvited. “‘Everything’ is certainly no kind of answer.”
“I would explain myself, but I’m fairly sure you wouldn’t like the answer.”
Her father glowered. “Penny, you must apologize for your behavior.”
“I will when you will,” she retorted.
“What have I done?”
“What have you not? I am sorry for scraping the floor, but it is perfectly fine.” Pointing to the tile underneath her feet, she realized that she was just like it. Far more durable than she looked, yet deceptively fragile. Hard to keep in perfect condition, but no worse for the wear even after a couple of hard scrapes.
“See? It is just fine,” she repeated.
Her mother looked on the verge of tears. “Penny, what is wrong with you?”
“Not a thing.” Not a thing, not anymore. As she carried her breakfast dishes to the counter, she knew that, at least, was the honest truth. For once she was becoming the type of person she used to dream she would be. She was making plans. If she made mistakes, they would be hers, too. “I’ll help you with the breakfast dishes, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“If you’re going to act like such an ungrateful girl, don’t bother with the dishes,” her father warned. “You just might as well leave.”
His words sounded so final, she looked at him carefully. “I can go right now.”
“Oh, Penny, why are you doing this to us? You can’t go. Not like this,” her mother pleaded. “This is your home.”
After taking one last long look at her parents and seeing the combined dismay and anger lurking in their eyes, Penny realized that everything between them was now forever changed.
She’d refuted their decisions. Past events and hurts that they’d all carefully kept buried for years were now out in the open, and in some ways just as painful now as they had been then. She couldn’t go back to how things were even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t want to do that. Not at all.
Therefore, she did the only thing she could do. She went upstairs to bide her time.
In two days, at a quarter to ten on Monday morning, she would open the front door and walk outside.
All in order to find herself—even if she wasn’t exactly sure which road to take . . . or where it might lead.
CHAPTER 5
On Saturday night, Michael’s parents insisted on holding a family meeting in his room at the Orange Blossom Inn. Michael had not supported this idea. Actually, he had argued against it. Forcefully. He was a grown man and could make his own decisions. The last thing he wanted was to have his life and health determined by his siblings and parents. Moreover, he really was in no hurry to have this discussion after being poked and prodded in the emergency room for the last twenty-four hours. He was tired, frustrated, and in considerable pain.
Dr. Barnes, the surgeon on call, had examined his knee when he’d arrived Friday night and recommended surgery as soon as possible. His knee was in sad shape—as if Michael needed to be told that. His prosthesis should have been adjusted months ago, and its increasingly poor fit had created a lot of irritation and a sizable infection. Th
ey’d tentatively scheduled the surgery for the following Friday.
Now, finally back in bed at the inn, surrounded by his family, he was crankier than ever. And while he was grateful for their love and concern, all he wanted to do at the moment was sleep. For the next two days. He’d even make do with the next eight hours.
“Michael,” his father began, worry shining in his eyes, “there’s something that needs to be said, and I fear it’s going to be hard to hear.”
“And what is that?”
“We’ve come to some decisions, you see.”
Actually, he did not see. “About what?”
Looking just as pained, his mother continued. “Evan, Molly, your daed, and I had quite a bit of time to sit together in the waiting room.” Shooting Michael a chiding look, she added, “Lots and lots of time, since you wouldn’t allow any of us in the exam area with ya.”
“I’m twenty-five years old, Mother. Far too old to be getting my hand held at a doctor’s visit.”
Besides, he’d been in a small room wearing only a thin cotton smock, which—no matter how hard he’d tried—he couldn’t seem to tie tightly enough to completely cover him. It had been bad enough to sit there so exposed to doctors and nurses. No way had he been about to sit there like that in front of his family, too.
Evan grunted. “It was far more than a mere doctor’s visit and you know it.”
“We’ve been really worried,” Molly grumbled as if he’d just pulled her hair. “Don’t make light of it.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” She looked at their father again, obviously waiting for him to make his big announcement.
Which was obviously only a mystery to him.
His fight for patience ended. “Can we simply get to the point? What did you all talk about?”
“We discussed the rest of our tour,” Evan blurted.
“I know the schedule,” he said wearily. “What happened? Did someone cancel one of the bookings?”
“Nee, dear. Nothing like that. . . .” His mother’s voice drifted off.
The back of his neck started tingling as he realized that they were struggling to tell him something important. Pressing his hands down on the bed, he worked to pull himself up. “What is it?”
The Proposal at Siesta Key Page 3