"Hey Martha, if you don’t mind me saying so, how can you afford such an expensive dress?" Laura asked. "I'm sure you don’t get paid more than I do, and I sure couldn't afford it. Are the Amish very wealthy?"
"Oh no," Martha hastened to explain. "It's not my dress; it's Sheryl's. I don’t have many Englischer clothes and Sheryl always lets me borrow hers."
Laura nodded, but still looked puzzled. "How does Sheryl afford it then? And that dress she's wearing; it looks like a designer dress."
Martha shrugged. "No idea. She doesn't like to talk about herself much, but she says the dresses are cheap."
"That explains it then; they must be knock-offs."
Martha was about to ask what a knock-off was, when Laura leaned over and spoke to her in a conspiratorial whisper. "So which one do you want, Moses or Gary?"
Martha's hand flew to her throat. "What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, Martha, don’t be coy. They’re both good looking guys and you're single. I don't want to step on your toes."
Martha didn’t know what to say. "Err, which one do you like?"
Laura giggled. "Both of them, really, but I’ll have whichever one you don't want."
"Amish boys don’t date Englischer girls."
Laura winked at her. "Well, you never know; it’s worth a try." Before Martha could say another word, Laura took the Shoo-fly pie and headed back to the dining room.
To Martha's dismay, Laura hung on Moses' every word and touched his arm flirtatiously at intervals. Gary spent the evening speaking to Laura too, leaving Sheryl and Martha to talk to each other. It wasn't quite how Martha had planned the evening.
As Martha lay in bed that night, looking at the stars through her open curtains, she wondered whether she wanted to be an Englischer after all. Being an Englischer was turning out to be not quite so much fun.
Mark 12:30-31.
And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’
The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”
Chapter 7 .
Martha clutched her stomach as another wave of nausea hit her. She was sitting in the waiting room of the manager of several candy store franchises, waiting for her meeting, and it was already twenty minutes past her appointment time. The door opened and Martha sat up straight, but a woman hurried out. Her face was red and she brushed tears from her eyes. Martha caught her breath in alarm.
After a moment, the secretary looked up at her with obvious sympathy and said, "You may go in now."
Martha walked into the large room, but all she saw was the man sitting behind the desk. He exuded power and authority. His head was down, and he was making notes. He did not look up as Martha crossed the room to stand in front of him.
Finally he did look up, gave a cold, tight-lipped smile and stood up, extending his hand. "Miss Miller."
"Yes." Martha shook his hand. His grip was firm.
"I'm Rory Gauge, the manager. Please have a seat." He indicated the cold, hard desk chair opposite his desk.
Martha sat down, her stomach tight with nerves. Rory Gauge looked at his notes, and then up at Martha. "You wish to sell a range of hand-made chocolates in my stores, as a specialty item. Is that correct?"
"Yes," Martha said, and tried to stop her knees from shaking.
"Tell me about them." He leaned back in his chair, and flicked a pen through his fingers, a look of concentration on his face.
Martha took a deep breath. "I do miniature shell molded pieces, and all sorts of chocolate coated products: butterscotch corn flake candy, butter crunch toffee, almond brittle, caramel pecans, cashew crunch, caramel candy, and my main one is the chocolate coated cherries. I have a selection here." Martha opened the box and handed it to Mr. Gauge. He took out a chocolate coated cherry, and stared at it for a while, turning it this way and that, before popping it in his mouth.
Martha pushed her feet into the ground to stop her knees from shaking.
After what seemed an age, Mr. Gauge looked up at her. "Very good." Martha smiled widely, but he continued. "It's well presented; it looks good and tastes good. However," - he waved his finger at Martha - "so do many chocolates on the market. What’s your USP?"
Martha had been researching small businesses on Sheryl's computer, so knew a USP was a Unique Selling Point. She had prepared for this. "They are all Amish chocolates."
Mr. Gauge leaned forward, his eyes glittering with interest. "They are all Amish recipes?"
Martha nodded. "Yes."
"And how did you come by Amish recipes?"
"I'm Amish."
Mr. Gauge narrowed his eyes. "You don't look Amish."
"I'm on rumspringa," Martha said. "Do you know what that is?" She hoped he wouldn’t be offended by her question, and she also sent up small prayer of apology to Gott for her white lie, for, while she was technically on rumspringa, she had no real intention of returning to the Amish.
Mr. Gauge did not appear offended at all. "Yes, I know what rumspringa is," he said. "So you're a real, genuine Amish person?"
Martha squirmed under his scrutiny, feeling like an exhibit in a museum. "Yes."
"You were brought up Amish, with Amish parents and live on an Amish farm?"
Martha nodded. "Well, I was brought up Amish and have Amish parents, but my daed is a carpenter and has a furniture making business."
"And he's Amish?" Rory Gauge rubbed his hands together.
"Yes," Martha was little put out as she'd already said that. She wondered where this conversation was going.
At once Mr. Gauge's whole demeanor changed. "Excellent," he exclaimed. "We don’t have a line of Amish chocolates in our stores and the tourists will love them." He rubbed his chin and looked over Martha's shoulder, she presumed at the wall, with a faraway look on his face.
"Are you attached to any particular name for your products, or if I offered you a contract, would you be prepared to listen to my suggestions for a name?"
Martha tried not to show her excitement. "Yes, I’d be prepared to listen to names," she said as evenly as she could, when all she wanted to do was scream with delight and jump and down with excitement.
"And I'll want to have professional photos taken of you in full Amish costume for marketing purposes."
Martha winced at the word costume, but spoke up. "Amish don’t believe in having their faces photographed."
Rory Gauge rubbed his chin again. "Ah, I see. Is there a known Amish symbol that we could use instead on packaging?"
Martha shook her head.
"What about a photograph that doesn't show the face?"
"Yes, that would be fine." Martha was relieved that the photo issue wasn't going to be a deal breaker.
"All right then, I'll set up a meeting with the buyer and we'll go through the figures and the supply numbers, but if that all works out, Miss Miller, you have yourself a deal."
Martha stood up and shook Mr. Gauge's hand. She could not believe how blessed she was, to land a contract for her handmade chocolates. Well, there was no signed contract yet, but there soon would be.
Martha was on cloud nine. The powerful Rory Gauge had thought her chocolates had merit, and all being well, she would soon sign a contract to supply his stores with specialty chocolates. Her chocolate business was well on its way. It was beyond her wildest dreams.
When Martha arrived back at the apartment, she made herself a nice cup of meadow tea. Sheryl wasn't home, so she tried to call Moses. She was bursting to tell someone the good news. The Hostetlers had a phone in their main barn, but it rang out three times. Martha sat down on the sofa and sipped her meadow tea. She felt dejected. Sure, she should have been elated, but she was used to a whole community to share her triumphs and her disappointments. Now, she had no one at all with whom to share her good news. Martha had just found another drawback to being Englisch.
Psalm 25:1
4-15.
The friendship of the LORD is for those who fear him,
and he makes known to them his covenant.
My eyes are ever toward the LORD,
for he will pluck my feet out of the net.
Chapter 8 .
Martha arrived home from work in a fluster. She had felt overheated all day and hoped she wasn't coming down with something. Mr. Gauge had sent her a contract to sign, and so her business was now officially on its way. She had not been able to contact Moses all week to tell him the good news and she did not want to call his mudder at her quilt store and tell her; that could be awkward. She had however called her daed's business and told him, and he had seemed genuinely pleased for her and said he'd pass the news onto her mudder and her schweschder Rebecca, and to Noah to tell Hannah, Jacob and Esther, and Moses. Martha wasn't sure her own mudder would be too happy about her news, but speaking to her daed had left her feeling awfully homesick.
Martha decided to make meat loaf with glazed ketchup over bacon strips for dinner. While she herself wasn't particularly hungry, Sheryl always returned home after work in a ravenous state. Martha changed from her work clothes and into jeans and a tee, all the while thinking that jeans were uncomfortable and wishing for her Amish dresses, and then groaned when she reached the kitchen. Sheryl had obviously been home earlier and had left a mess. There was an empty box of fried pork chop and gravy next to a plate which had most of the gravy and cheese-topped, mashed potatoes still on it. An empty and half crushed can of soda lay next to it.
Martha sighed and threw the can and the box in the trash, and then scraped the remainder of the food down the garbage disposal with a fork. What happened next, Martha had no idea, for suddenly the fork flew into the garbage disposal unit. The garbage disposal made a horrible, whirring sound, so Martha hurriedly turned off the garbage disposal at the wall switch.
She had been feeling hot before, but now her blood ran cold. Sheryl was generous with everything, her clothes, her jewelry, her make up, and was quite laid back in nature, but one thing she was obsessed with, was the garbage disposal unit. She was always offering dire warnings: Don’t put pasta or rice down the unit; don’t put potato peels down the unit; don't put chicken bones down the unit.
Even the other day, Sheryl had wagged her finger at Martha and said, "Don't put coffee grinds down the garbage disposal, no matter what anyone tells you. People say it's fine, but it is not."
It was a wonder Martha had ever been brave enough to use the garbage disposal at all, but lately she had been, although she drew the line at using the dishwasher. She was in the habit of taking everything out of the dishwasher and washing it in the sink. It's just that the garbage disposal made it easy to clean up after Sheryl.
Now Martha stood there, her hands to her cheeks, horrified that she seemed to have broken the garbage disposal unit. It was her fault, so she couldn’t call the property manager and ask her to send a plumber. She herself couldn't afford a plumber. What would she do?
Martha picked up her cell phone and called the Hostetler barn. No one had answered all week, but she just had to try. Again no answer, so she tried one more time. This time Elijah answered. "Elijah, it's Martha Miller. Is Moses around?"
"Yes, I’ll go get him."
A few minutes passed and then Moses spoke. "Martha, is something wrong?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. I've broken Sheryl's garbage disposal unit; I dropped a fork down there, and-"
Moses interrupted. "Did you turn it off?"
"Yes, of course."
"I’ll be right there. Don't touch it, whatever you do." Moses hung up.
Martha rubbed her hands together anxiously. Did Moses know anything about garbage disposal units? Sure, he was handy, but did he know anything about electricity? His mudder had electricity in her quilt store, but she was unlikely to have a garbage disposal unit there, and even if she did, she had probably never thrown a fork into it.
Martha sat on the sofa, feeling sorry for herself. What if Moses hadn’t answered when she'd called the Hostetler barn? Sheryl would have come home and no doubt would have been angry with her that she had broken the garbage disposal unit. Well, that could still happen, Martha thought, but she was relieved that Moses was coming to her rescue. No matter what happened, she would be all the better for Moses' presence. She felt all alone in the Englisch world, without her support network that she had always taken for granted.
It seemed like an age before Moses knocked on the door, and Martha was overcome with joy to see him.
Moses frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that, Martha?"
"I'm just so pleased to see you."
Moses beamed. "Well, show me to the problem."
Martha laughed. "You sound just like a plumber."
Moses chuckled too. "Not really, 'cause I'm free."
Martha thought for a moment about the Amish, how they always help their neighbors, and what a wide support network there is. She wondered how Englischers managed to get on, as they were not so community orientated.
Moses leaned under the sink and unplugged the disposal. "Martha, can you pass me that quarter inch hex key please?"
Martha simply said, "Umm," while looking through the tools, so Moses popped out from under the sink and retrieved the tool. He then disappeared back under the sink.
Martha peeped in. "What are you doing?"
"I'm rotating the hex key clockwise and counter clockwise to try to release the fork."
Martha was impressed. "Sounds like you know what you're doing."
"Hmmpf," was the muffled reply.
"Is it working?" Martha was anxious; Sheryl would be home soon.
Moses popped out from under the unit, and stood up, holding a mangled looking fork.
"Oh Moses!" Martha flung her arms around his neck without thinking, and then jumped back, hugely embarrassed. Sheryl was always hugging her, Gary, and everyone else who came in the flat and Martha had picked up the habit. Yet Amish weren't likely to show affection in public, and she was beside herself that she had hugged Moses.
Martha stared at Moses, trying to determine his reaction, but he simply looked surprised. "Sorry, I've become an Englischer." Martha forced a laugh, trying to cover up what she had just done.
"I'm not complaining, Martha; hug me all you like." Moses winked at her.
It was Martha's turn to be surprised. Is he flirting with me? she wondered. The two of them locked eyes, and a strange feeling ran through Martha. She wanted to look away but was unable to.
Just then, Sheryl burst through the door, dragging two large bags, both adorned with an interlocking G, into her apartment. "Hi Moses, Martha." She hurried straight past them into her bedroom.
"Quick, the tools," Martha said in a low tone. She and Moses went to the kitchen and packed away his tools. Moses turned on the water in the sink and fiddled with some switches, and then said, "It's working fine now."
"How did you know how to fix it, Moses? It’s electric and all. How did you know what to do?"
Moses leaned close to Martha and said in a conspiratorial tone, "It’s one of my secrets. I have lots of secrets, Martha."
Martha suddenly felt anxious. Her palms felt sweaty and she wiped them on her jeans. Secrets? Could Moses mean he was dating Laura? Laura hadn’t said so, and she talked about Moses a lot, but then she also talked about Gary. What secrets did Moses have that Martha didn't know about?
1 Peter 5:8-9.
Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.
Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.
Chapter 9 .
Martha returned from work the next afternoon tired and frustrated. Laura had been talking about Moses again and had hinted more than once that Martha should invite them both over for dinner again.
No sooner had she walked into the apartment, than there was a
loud knock on the door. Martha turned around and opened the door to see two police officers on the doorstep. One handed her papers which he called a warrant, and the other informed her that she had to accompany them to the police station. Martha saw that her name was on the warrant, and so was Sheryl's.
"Why, what, why?" she stammered. She was so shocked that she didn’t quite understand what the officers were telling her. One photographed her and then walked around taking photographs of the apartment.
Martha realized that one of the officers was speaking to her. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"That handbag you are carrying is a stolen Gucci."
"It can’t be," Martha said. "Sheryl let me borrow it." The officer simply made a speech to Martha, the only words of which she understood in her confusion were arrest, felony, right to remain silent. The officer then put handcuffs on her and led her away.
* * *
Martha sat in the interview room at the police station. She was in shock and unable to take in what the officers were saying to her. They made her repeat the same thing over and over again, and then some.
"So your story is that you are an Amish girl on rumspringa. You answered a newspaper advertisement and are renting a room from Sheryl Garner in her apartment. You have been working as a short order cook. You have no non Amish clothes so Sheryl Garner has been letting you borrow hers. You allege that you borrowed them at her suggestion."
"Yes," Martha said yet again, trying hard to bite back tears.
"And you allege that you had no knowledge of Sheryl's activities."
Martha did burst into tears this time. "No," she said between sobs.
"This is your first offense," one of the officers said. "If you tell us all you know, it will be better for you. You'll get a lighter sentence; it will be a misdemeanor of the first degree. Otherwise, you could be facing charges of felony of the third degree. The penalty for that is seven years in jail or a fine of between $2,500 and $15,000, or maybe both jail and a fine."
"But I don’t know anything," Martha said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and shifting uncomfortably on the hard, green, plastic chair. Her legs had gone to sleep as she had been sitting there for so long. She could see that the officers didn’t believe her. What a nightmare this was; what had Sheryl done? Perhaps she should not have refused her right to a criminal defense lawyer. She had no idea where she'd get one anyway. Martha was confused and frightened. The fingerprinting and the photographs had been humiliating. She had been treated like a criminal; in fact, the officers clearly thought she was a criminal. What would happen now?
The Amish Millers Get Married BOXED SET Books 1-3 (Amish Romance Book Bundle: The Way Home, The Way Forward, The Narrow Way) (Boxed Set: Amish Millers Get Married) Page 20