by Amy Clipston
“It’s a secret?” He grinned. “I like secrets.”
Lillian leaned over toward him and leveled her eyes with his. “The question is—do you like keeping secrets?”
He nodded and then gestured as if to lock his mouth with a key.
“Gut bu.” She patted his shoulder and then looked at her mother. “Mattie told me she won’t be returning as teacher next year.”
Her mother raised her eyebrows.
“Is she getting married?” Andrew’s words were distorted by a mouthful of cookie.
“Andrew!” Mamm raised her eyebrows. “Take smaller bites, and don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Well?” Andrew wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Is she getting married? Our last teacher, Lydia, left to get married.”
Lillian smiled. “Ya, she’s getting married.”
“How exciting!” Her mother clapped her hands. “I bet she was bubbling over when she told you.”
“Oh ya. She was.” Lillian picked up another cookie from the plate. “I was thinking of talking to the board about becoming the teacher.”
“I’m not surprised to hear you say that. When you were six, you told me you wanted to be a teacher.”
Lillian gasped. “I remember that! That was the second day of school. I came running home and told you I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up—a teacher and a mamm.”
“That’s right. And I told you that you had to be a teacher first since mothers can’t teach because they have too much to do at home.”
Lillian laughed.
“That’s very true.” Andrew held up a cookie and gestured with it. “If you were a teacher, Mamm, there wouldn’t be anyone here to make my snack on the days Lily is working.”
Mamm sat across from them at the table and nodded. “You’ll be a magnificent teacher, Lillian. That is a fabulous idea—for you to try to get the job.”
“Will my teaching work with your schedule, since you work three days a week?”
“Of course it will. Andrew will be older, and he will have Onkel Josh and Daniel at the haus. He’ll be just fine.” Mamm turned to Andrew. “You can handle walking home to Joshua if Lillian has to stay later, right?”
Andrew nodded. “Ya, I can handle it.”
“Wunderbaar.” Lillian looked at her brother. “You can’t tell anyone about this discussion. I don’t think Mattie wants her engagement blurted around the community yet.”
He glowered at her. “I said I won’t tell anyone. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”
“I agree you should talk to a member of the school board about it.” Mamm took a cookie.
“But should I wait until a formal school board meeting to ask them?” Lillian tapped the table. “I don’t know if I should do it before the end of the school year.”
“You should tell them soon. They have to plan for next year since Mattie already gave notice. You could approach one of the board members at church and show your interest. Tell one of them you’d like to look for a full-time teaching position and see if they have any thoughts on it. Be sure to tell them you love teaching and would like to be considered for a position in the future.”
“Okay. I’ll do that.” Lillian’s stomach tightened at the thought of becoming a teacher. Her goal might be within reach soon.
That same afternoon, Amanda sat on the bench outside the back of the deli and bowed her head in silent prayer. She then placed her lunchbox on her lap and pulled out her turkey sandwich. The warm sunlight kissed her cheeks, and she smiled as a bird sang in a tree nearby. It’s the perfect spring day.
“Beautiful day, huh?” a voice asked.
Amanda turned and found Mike standing behind the bench. “Hi, Mike. I didn’t hear you come out. How did you find me?”
He pointed toward the back door leading into the deli. “Nancy told me you were out here.” He placed his hand on the back of the bench. “Is it okay if I sit with you for a couple of minutes?”
“Of course.” Amanda moved to the far end of the bench and then smoothed her apron and dress. She hoped her prayer covering and hair were straight. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” Mike smiled. “How are you?”
“Fine. I haven’t seen you for almost a week. Have you been busy?”
“Yeah, I have.” He frowned. “I’m struggling in one of my science classes, which isn’t good for a hopeful med student.”
“Oh.” Amanda wished she could talk in depth with him about school, but she had no knowledge or experience when it came to high school science classes. “I hope it works out for you.”
“Thanks.” He crossed his ankles and she stared down at his fancy-looking sneakers. “I’m working with a tutor, and he’s really good. I have a big test coming up next week. I’m hoping I do well on the test and I can pull off a B in the class, which is much better than a D. I can’t have a D on my high school record. It’ll hurt my chances at a decent scholarship.”
Amanda nodded slowly while holding the sandwich in her hand. She didn’t know anything about grades or scholarships, and she hoped he didn’t think she was stupid.
He pointed toward the sandwich. “Please, go ahead and eat. I don’t want to interrupt your lunchtime.”
“It’s okay.” She took a small bite and then sipped her cup of water. “Have you eaten?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to pick up something on my way home.”
“You got out of school early today?”
“Yeah. It was a half day.”
“Oh.” She wondered what his day at school was like. He’d once mentioned he had different teachers throughout the day, which was a foreign concept to Amanda. It sounded like a lot of running from room to room. How did the scholars keep up with such a busy schedule? And then they graduated and went to college, which sounded even more busy and stressful. She pulled herself from her thoughts and found him watching her. “Are you excited about college?”
“Yes, I am.” He gazed off toward the trees. “I can’t wait to be on my own. I mean, I love my family, but it will be nice to be independent. Sometimes I get tired of my parents telling me what to do, where to go, and what time to be home. I’m ready to figure things out for myself, you know?”
Amanda shrugged. “I guess so.”
“I guess life is different for you.”
“It is. We normally stay close to our families and help them out. Most young people don’t move out of their parents’ house until they’re married. Some married couples live with one set of parents until they can build a house of their own. And then they build on their parents’ property.”
He chuckled. “That’s a lot of togetherness.”
“It is.” She paused for a moment while considering the differences between their lives. “I often wonder what it would be like to be in your shoes and go to college.”
“You do?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Ya, I do. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a veterinarian. We have one who lives across from our farm. He comes over whenever one of the animals is sick. I’ve watched him work, and I’m fascinated. I would love to work with animals all day. I could help the ones that are sick. It would be so rewarding.” She chewed the side of her lip when she realized it was the first time she’d admitted out loud that she wanted to experience life beyond what her community permitted. Both relief and guilt soaked through her.
“Wow. That would be amazing if you could become a vet.” Mike shook his head. “But you can’t, can you?”
She sighed. “It’s a dream, but I know I can’t do it for real. I’m not allowed to go to college.”
“Because it’s against your community’s rules.”
She nodded slowly. “Ya, but you’re the first person I’ve told.” She leaned in closer to him and lowered her voice. “What would I have to do if I wanted to go to college? Hypothetically, of course.”
“Hypothetically?” He tapped the back of the bench behind her. “Well, that sort of depends on a few things.
Do you have a high school diploma?”
She shook her head. “Not really. The Amish only go to school through the eighth grade.”
“Oh, then you don’t have a high school diploma. You’d have to get your GED before you could apply to college.”
“GED?” She tilted her head. “What’s that?”
“A GED is like a high school diploma. I can’t remember what the acronym stands for, but it’s considered a high school equivalency. It’s like you went to high school without suffering through the four horrible years of torture.”
She looked up at him and wished her face would stop burning. “High school is torture?”
“I’m kidding, but some of it was pretty awful. Like the endless nights of homework.”
Amanda pulled a Ziploc bag of chocolate chip cookies from her lunchbox and handed him one.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome. My sister made these yesterday.” She thought about the GED and more questions filled her mind. “What would I need to do if I wanted to earn a GED? Again, I’m only asking hypothetically.”
“You’d have to get this huge catalog-size book, study a lot, and take a test.” He finished the cookie and wiped his hands together. “My older brother’s friend got his GED last year. He said he had to study pretty hard, but he was really excited when he did it. Because he got his GED, he was able to get a better job with a bigger salary.”
Amanda handed him another cookie. “Thanks. These cookies are fantastic. How is this—hypothetically, of course—going to be possible when the Amish aren’t allowed to go to school beyond eighth grade?” he asked.
“It’s okay if I go before I’m baptized, but if I do something like that after I’m baptized, I’ll be shunned.”
“Shunned? Wow. That’s harsh.” He shook his head. “I guess it’s not something you really want to do then. You wouldn’t want to risk being shunned, right?”
Amanda shook her head, but she wasn’t really certain if she wanted to be baptized. She didn’t want to lose her family, but she also wasn’t sure the Amish life was right for her. She finished her sandwich and then started to eat a cookie. “Did you talk to your uncle about the job at his bookstore?”
“Yeah.” He faced her. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you I got the job. He hired me full-time for the summer.” He nodded toward the cookies. “Would it be okay if I had another one?”
“Ya, of course.” She handed him the bag. “My sister is a really good baker and cook.”
“I bet you are too.” He palmed another cookie.
Amanda shrugged. “I’m not as good at my mom and sister. So tell me about the test you have to study for.”
While Mike explained his science class, Amanda considered what he’d told her about getting her GED. She wondered if she was smart enough to do it and what her mamm would say.
THIRTEEN
Trey bowed his head for a prayer and then flipped to the appropriate page in the songbook for the service’s closing hymn. He glanced around the sanctuary and found it nearly jam-packed. He was so glad he’d decided to come to the service at Paradise Community Church.
He’d been greeted with smiles and hellos when he entered the sanctuary before the service, and he’d shaken many hands during the sharing of the peace, when members of the congregation greet each other with a handshake during the service. The congregation appeared to be warm and welcoming, which was just what he craved. And he’d enjoyed the service too. It reminded him of the services at his church back home.
Throughout the service, Trey had thought of Hannah and wondered what she was doing today. He knew that the Amish worshiped formally together every other week. Was she also at a church service today?
Hannah had haunted his thoughts, both day and night, ever since Wednesday. He couldn’t forget the fear in her eyes when they’d rushed to her house to check on Andrew. He felt her worry while they sat together in the car, and he’d wished he could take the burden off her shoulders. He’d longed to help her. He’d prayed for Andrew while Hannah was in the bedroom with him. He’d hoped it was just a minor injury and nothing more.
Trey had sensed her relief when she’d returned from her bedroom, and he was stunned by the way she’d opened up to him, cried, and let him hold her. Their embrace was overwhelming. He’d pulled her close and drank in the sweet smell of her lilac shampoo. Having her next to his heart felt natural, familiar—as if he’d held her before. He didn’t want to let go, but he also knew that getting attached to her would put him on a road to heartbreak.
As much as Trey wanted to have Hannah in his life, he knew he couldn’t. They were from different worlds. Yet, he found himself wishing and praying they could be together. He’d love to see her sitting next to him in church. He would enjoy having her help as he planned the bed and breakfast. He couldn’t give up the dream of being her friend—and possibly even more.
The congregation finished singing the last stanza of the hymn, and the minister closed with announcements and then the benediction prayer. As Trey placed the hymnal back into the pocket shelf in front of him, he wondered again what Hannah was doing. He hoped he’d see her soon.
After service on Sunday, Hannah searched the sea of faces in the kitchen for her cousin Susan. She had to find out the truth about their uncle Elam, and she knew Susan would hold the key. As she walked past a group of women, her mother-in-law frowned and then turned her back. Hannah kept walking, hoping to see Susan.
She found her cousin standing with another group of women. She smiled and nodded at a few friends as she approached, and they each hesitated before returning the greeting. Hannah wondered why they didn’t return the gesture immediately, but she pushed the thought away as she reached Susan.
“Susan.” Hannah smiled at her cousin. “Wie geht’s?”
“Oh, hi, Hannah.” Susan cleared her throat. “I’m fine. How are you?” She was standing with two other women, who each stared at Hannah before walking away.
Hannah shook her head. “I feel as if my prayer kapp is missing or my cape is on backward today. It’s as if everyone I talk to stares at me like there’s something wrong with me. I don’t understand it. What could I have possibly done for everyone in the entire district to stare at me?” Hannah hoped it had nothing to do with Trey.
Susan grimaced. “You really don’t know why?”
“No, I don’t.” Hannah studied her face. “You do know why?”
Susan touched her arm. “Let’s find somewhere to talk.”
Hannah followed her outside where they walked down the porch steps. They made their way toward the line of buggies parked by the pasture and then stopped. “What’s all this about, Susan?”
Her cousin frowned. “A rumor has been flying through the community about you. I don’t know who started it, but people are saying you were seen embracing an Englisher man the other day.” She glowered. “I refuse to believe a word of it. We’ve been close since we were kids, Hannah. I know you would never behave that way.”
Hannah shook her head. She knew it was inevitable, but she didn’t think it would happen so quickly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Barbie started that rumor.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve become freinden with a man who’s staying at the hotel. Andrew fell and hurt himself on Wednesday. Lillian called me to tell me that it looked really bad. He had a gash above his eye, and there was blood everywhere. It was so bad Lillian couldn’t tell where he was cut. I had to get home immediately, and mei freind gave me a ride home. I had no other means of transportation, and I was desperate. I was really upset and worried about Andrew.”
“He only gave you a ride?” Susan clicked her tongue. “I see no harm in that. I wonder why people would spread such nasty rumors. If she’s lying about you, then you should go to the bishop.”
“It’s not that simple.” Hannah paused. “We hugged before he left my farm.”
“What?” Susan raised her eyebrows. “Why would you hug him?”
“I was really emotional. Every injury and illness worries me after losing Gideon. I was thankful Andrew’s injury was minor. I was so scared after seeing all of that blood on his clothes, on the rags, and in his hair. It looked much worse than it was. After I released all of that worry and stress, I needed a hug.”
“Why would you hug an Englisher you barely know, Hannah? That doesn’t make sense to me.”
“I don’t know. It just felt right at the time, and I don’t regret it.” Hannah shrugged. “Honestly, it doesn’t make much sense to me either.”
Susan eyed Hannah. “Do you think you need to talk to someone? Maybe you should meet with the bishop and tell him you’re having feelings you don’t understand. He can counsel you on how to turn your heart back to God so you don’t have feelings like this again.”
“It’s not like that. My friend understands me better than other people do. He’s lost his fraa and his dochder, and we can each relate to the grief and loss the other has faced.”
“There are other people in this district who have had to cope with loss and grief. You don’t need to go to an Englisher about things like that.”
“Now you sound like Barbie.”
“I know you’ve had problems with Barbie in the past, but I think she’s right about this.” Susan’s frown softened. “You need to be careful. If Barbie started these rumors about you, you know where that will lead. Rumors like this led to Irma Yoder’s shunning a couple of years ago. She had to confess her transgressions in front of the whole church. You don’t want to do that, do you? Her kinner were mortified.”
“I know.” Hannah nodded. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something else. Barbie told me something about Onkel Elam, and I wanted to ask you if it was true. You were closer to Aenti Sarah than I was.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Did he really divorce Aenti Sarah, leave the community, and marry someone else?”
Susan nodded. “Ya, it’s true.”
Hannah gasped as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “Why didn’t my parents ever tell me the truth?” She pointed at Susan. “Why didn’t you tell me?”