John kept Molly in suspense until later that night. Before they talked, Molly had to help Ezra and Anton clear the table and wash and dry the dishes. After Amanda finally said the kitchen was clean enough, Molly wheeled out of the kitchen in search of John. She finally found him sitting on a chair in the hearth room.
“I’m all done with the dishes, John.”
He looked up from the book he’d been reading. “That’s good timing. I just finished a chapter.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
“It’s nothing important.” Looking uncomfortable, he pulled at his collar. “I mean, I don’t think it is.”
She was starting to get pretty worried. Maneuvering her chair closer, she lowered her voice. “What is wrong?”
“Wrong? Oh, nothing. I only wanted to ask you about a boy I met earlier today.”
A boy? “Who might that be?”
“Danny Eberly.”
“Danny?” All at once, she was thankful for the lack of electric light in the room, because she was sure her cheeks were bright red.
But maybe the battery-powered floor lamp John had been using to read wasn’t all that dim because her brother’s expression sharpened. “Jah. Do you know him?”
“Well, yes.” A thousand questions were running through her mind, all revolving around how he’d met Danny and how John had learned that she and Danny were friends. Deciding to play things safe, she said, “Danny Eberly and I went to school together.” Not quite liking how that sounded, she hastily added, “Ezra knows him, too, of course.”
“I guess he would.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I had forgotten that.”
How could he have forgotten? “Why are you asking me about Danny?”
“Well, he mentioned that he went to school with you. Not Ezra, now that I think of it.”
“There were a lot of us in Miss Annalee’s schoolhouse, John. You know that.”
“That’s true.” Looking at her intently, he said, “I told Danny that I had never heard you talk about him.”
Of course she would never talk to her big brother about her secret crush! A little irritated, she said, “I graduated the eighth grade almost two years ago, John. I don’t recall if I ever talked about him to you or not. I’d be surprised if you remembered.”
“I guess you have a point.” When she raised her brows, he said, “So, have you seen him lately?”
“Jah. I saw him at the library today. We talked.”
“He was at the library? Did he go there to see you?”
“I’m fairly sure he went there for a book. We’ve got a lot of them there, you know.”
“You don’t have to be so snippy.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so nosy.” Before John could get in another word, Molly glared at him. “Just so you know, I’m getting pretty tired of playing tsvansich questions. I don’t understand the point of this conversation, either.”
“I’m not getting at anything. I just want to know more about your relationship with Danny.”
“I don’t have a relationship with him.” At all. “We are friends.” Well, kind of. “Why are you so concerned, anyway?”
“Yeah, John,” Amanda said from the doorway. “What are you getting at?”
He turned to glare at his other sister. “Go on out, Amanda. This ain’t any of your concern.”
Amanda propped a hand on one of her hips. “Sorry, but I’m thinking it maybe is. You’re making Molly upset.”
“I’m not upset,” Molly said. She was actually angry and irritated. There was a big difference. But more importantly, she hated her siblings acting like she was fragile and couldn’t stand up for herself.
“If you ain’t upset, then answer my questions,” John said.
Molly crossed her arms over her chest. “Nee. Danny and I aren’t any of your business.”
“You’re my sister.”
“So?”
He groaned. “Mol—”
Amanda interrupted. “I think you should share with us where you happened to run into Danny Eberly, John. Was it when you just happened to be calling on Marie Hartman?”
“Are you finally courting her, John?” James asked as he entered the room. “When did that happen?”
“I’m not courting anyone, James,” John snapped before turning to Amanda. “And where I was is neither here nor there, and you know it.”
“I think it is,” Molly interjected, happy to talk about his business instead of hers. “You had no problem sticking your nose into my business.”
John glared. “Watch your tone, Molly.”
“You better watch your tone, too. You aren’t my father.”
“Just because I’m looking after you—”
Her voice rose. “You aren’t looking after me. You’re being bossy and prying into my personal business.”
“You shouldn’t even have personal business,” John retorted, his tone matching hers.
“What is everyone arguing about?” Mamm asked as she joined them all.
Great. Shooting daggers at John, Molly said, “Nothing, Mamm. John is just being nosy.”
“I’m not being nosy, I just don’t want some boy taking advantage of you.”
“How could Danny take advantage of me?”
“Because.” John waved a hand at her chair. “You know.”
She shook her head. “Nee. I don’t.”
“Molly, you are my baby sister and you’re in a wheelchair. Of course I don’t want some kid treating you badly.”
His statement hurt. No matter what she did or said, John always seemed to think of her as a handicapped child. She raised her voice. “Do you think Marie’s parents are talking to her right now, warning her about John Byler?”
“Molly!” Mamm said, just as Amanda sucked in a shocked breath and James stared at her in shock.
“What?” Glaring at the four of them, Molly shook her head. “Mamm, you and Daed have never coddled me. You’ve never made me feel like I couldn’t help out around the house or should expect my five siblings to serve me or wait on me.”
“Of course not.”
“Then why does everyone have no problem treating me like a regular sixteen-year-old woman when it comes to work around the house, but when it comes to the rest of the world I’m suddenly supposed to be fragile and addle-brained?”
“Did you just call yourself a woman?” James murmured.
Mamm looked shocked. “Molly, no one in this haus treats you that way.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asked all of them. “Are all of you positive you don’t ever wish I lived the rest of my life in this house being surrounded by all of your advice and good intentions?” She wasn’t surprised when both John and Amanda looked away. “You know, I get this attitude a lot at the library. People ignore me or talk to me really slowly, like I’m only pretending to work at the library. I don’t need you acting like I can’t handle a relationship.”
“Do you have a boyfriend, Molly?” Mamm asked. “Have you been seeing this, this . . .”
“Danny,” Amanda supplied.
“Have you been seeing this Danny in secret?” Mamm asked.
Good grief! “Nee. But I do know I’m never going to get to spend any time with any boy if my broodah doesn’t back off.”
“I just want to make sure that you know I talked to him.”
“Danke. I think you pounded that point in.”
“We never did hear about when you actually did talk to Danny,” Amanda said with a sly smile. “Or why you were over at Marie’s haus.”
John stood up. “That is none of your business.”
Amanda propped one hand on her hip. “I see. Well, next time I see Marie, I’ll be sure to ask where the two of you talked.”
“Kinner, all of you are giving me a headache,” their mother said with an aggrieved expression. “James, John, and Amanda, leave Molly and me, if you please.”
For the first time ever, the three of them obeyed their mother without hesitati
on and walked right out. Molly wanted to throw something at them.
Instead, she watched her mother compose herself and sit down in John’s chair.
“Do I even want to know what was going on?” Mamm asked after a few seconds passed.
“If I say no, will that be the end of it?”
“Probably not.”
“Fine. Somehow John talked to Danny Eberly today, and Danny said that we were friends. For some reason John decided that meant he needed to tell me to look out for Danny. He makes me so mad.”
“Do you think we coddle you too much in the real world?”
“I don’t know. Not usually. But if I have more ‘discussions’ like this, then yes.”
“You know we all just want to look out for you.”
“When I was little, you said it was because you were afraid I’d hurt myself.”
“That’s true.”
“Well, I think it’s gone from that to a bad habit. Everyone thinks that I don’t realize that things are different for me because I’m in a chair. Don’t you think I realize that?”
“I guess you would know better about that than any of us.”
“I do. I love you but I don’t want to live here with you and Daed for the rest of my life, Mamm. I want to be independent. And I want to date, too. And make mistakes.”
Her mother’s eyes lit up. “So you want to be like everyone else.”
“Yep.”
“We’ll do our best. So, when are you going to see Danny again?”
“I don’t know. He said I should go to the Fall Festival on Saturday night, but I told him that wasn’t the place for me. It’s too hard to get around the grounds in a chair.”
“Hmm. We’ll have to see about that. I seem to remember Newman’s farm having some pretty good paths.”
“Really?”
Mamm smiled softly. “Let me do some thinking. Maybe there’s a way for you to still be able to go—without me or one of your siblings walking by your side.”
“Danke.”
“No, thank you, dear. I can’t say that I’m glad that you and John and Amanda got into a little tiff, but I am glad to know the reason behind it.”
“Mamm, about Daed . . .” She really didn’t want to go over all of this with him.
“I’ll fill your father in. You might be surprised, but I think he’s going to be your biggest supporter.”
“Really?”
Her mother smiled broadly. “Oh, jah. You see, I remind Daed all the time that my father once had to be convinced that I was safe with him.”
Later that night, when it was close to midnight, John picked up his flashlight from his bedside table and went into the kitchen to eat a bowl of cereal. Usually he fell asleep the moment he closed his eyes, but sleep was escaping him that evening. Every time he’d tried to get comfortable and relax, he’d find himself replaying one of the day’s conversations in his head.
He’d been so silly about Danny Eberly with Marie and far too nosy and bossy with his little sister.
Then there was that kiss . . . and that they’d at last shared their true feelings about each other. All of that had been wonderful and amazing. It had been a long time coming, and it should have made him feel like he was on top of the world.
Except he still hadn’t completely made a decision about his faith.
Or had he?
“You’ve already made up your mind, man,” he muttered to himself around a mouthful of cereal. “The only person you’re fooling is yourself.”
Chomping on another bite, he let that little tidbit sink in. Tried to figure out what to do next.
“I was just telling myself that getting a midnight snack was a bad idea,” his father said as he walked into the kitchen, his muscular body illuminated by his own flashlight. “I guess I was wrong. What are you eating, John?”
“Frosted Flakes. Don’t tell Mamm.” His mother had always hated any of them eating the sugary cereals.
“I won’t . . . if I can have a bowl, too.” Daed looked over at the bare countertops. “Where did you hide the box?”
“Behind Amanda’s tin of granola.”
His eyes lit up. “Good idea. Nobody likes that.”
Smiling, John dipped his spoon in the bowl again. “Not even Amanda. I don’t know why she continually makes it.”
“Anton told me that she reads magazines at the library and thinks she needs to eat more nuts and berries,” Daed said as he pulled out the box and a bowl. After he joined John at the table, he quietly knelt his head and prayed. Then he spoke out loud. “You care to tell me why you are sitting here in the middle of the night talking to yourself?”
“You heard that, huh?”
“Only the tail end of it. The part about you fooling yourself.”
“Ah.” Glad his bowl was empty, John walked to the sink and washed it out with soap. And then he hid that cereal box again. His father never put back anything where it belonged. By the time he came back to the table, he’d made his decision.
“Daed, I’ve decided not to get baptized.”
His father slowly put his spoon down. “Well, now. That’s news.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just blurted it like that. But I . . . well, I’ve been struggling with this for a while now.”
“I see.” He took another bite of cereal. Then another one.
John watched him, both appreciating the fact that his father was waiting a moment to comment on his bombshell and hating the fact that he was having to sit there and squirm and worry about what he was going to say.
After a couple more seconds passed, his father pushed the half-eaten bowl away. “You know, it’s funny. I always used to love this stuff, but now I’m thinking it’s too sweet.”
“It is pretty late,” John said as he stood up and poured the remainder in the garbage can. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
“Maybe . . . or maybe my tastes have changed.” John looked over his shoulder at his father. He was in old navy sweatpants and a thick white undershirt . . . and wearing a sympathetic expression. “Leave the dish, son. I’ll take care of it in a minute.”
John sat back down. “What are you saying?”
“That it’s okay to change your mind about things.” He paused. “And to go your own path.”
“You aren’t mad at me?”
“Nee. I can’t say it’s much of a surprise, though. Your mamm and I knew you were happy working at the trailer factory.”
“That wasn’t it, Daed. Lots of Amish work there.”
“Jah. But lots of Amish don’t chat with the Englischers as much as you do. Or have a long-running friendship with Marie Hartman.”
There it was. “Since I’m revealing all my secrets tonight, I guess I should tell you that things between me and Marie are changing. We’re becoming closer.”
His father smiled as he got up. “I’ll look forward to seeing what happens next with you two, then.”
John walked to his side. “Daed, wait. Is that it? Don’t you want to talk to me about my faith or ask me if I’ve been praying about all of this?”
“Nee.”
“No?”
“You might not be destined to be Amish but you’ll always be my son, John. I know you’ve been doing those things.” He squeezed his shoulder. “Now you best get some sleep. Morning comes early, ain’t so?”
There were so many things John wanted to say to his father, to tell him. But he realized at last that words weren’t necessary. “Gut nacht, Daed. Danke.”
“Good night, John. Sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
As John walked up the stairs, he heard his father walk down the hall, his bowl in the sink obviously forgotten. Mamm was going to be questioning all of them in the morning about whose bowl it was.
He could hardly wait to see what his father would do about that.
ELEVEN
“Of course, I felt so sorry for the little kittens that I started crying, but Andy ignored me and started rubbing one, th
en another. Soon, E.A. and Harley were fussing over kittens, too.”
“These are pretty good results, don’t you think? Five out of seven of us were able to get together tonight,” Katie Steury said from her seat in the back row of Marie’s Escalade. “I think Andy would be proud.”
Suddenly fighting a lump in her throat, Marie concentrated on maneuvering her vehicle around the parking area of Newman’s Farm. There was a large number of attendants directing traffic. Their bright orange vests and flashlights were easy to see. All of the people and kids flowing out of their cars? Not so much.
“Boy, just when I thought I was going to be tear-free this evening,” E.A. murmured.
“I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have said anything,” Katie said. Looking around the vehicle, she asked, “Have I upset everyone by bringing up Andy’s name?”
“No,” Marie said as she at last set her parking brake for good measure. “You are right. Even though it hurts, we should talk about Andy from time to time. And it is good that we are all here.”
“I’d say so,” Will Kurtz said as he unbuckled, though his voice sounded a little flat. “I’m actually amazed that my schedule worked out the way it did. Lately I’ve been working odd hours at the trailer factory.”
Marie noticed Will turn to John B., who was sitting in the back row next to Katie. “It’s surprising that neither of us had to work tonight, ain’t so?”
“Jah. Practically a miracle,” John said. His voice sounded as strained as Marie’s heart felt.
As she opened her door and grabbed her purse, Marie wondered if this was what their future get-togethers were going to be like. Full of stilted conversation and forced joviality—all hiding the pain that each was still feeling.
Did it even matter? She wasn’t sure.
Instead she concentrated on smoothing out her jeans and blue-checked flannel shirt. Both were old and comfortable. She’d worn the old clothes on purpose, wanting to have something that was like it used to be.
As everyone continued to pile out of the SUV, the awkward conversation continued.
“Yes. It’s a miracle and a blessing,” E.A. said as she climbed out of the backseat, standing to one side as Will pulled the seat forward so everyone in the third row could get out. E.A., being Mennonite, had on a long skirt and a white T-shirt. Her red hair was bare except for a small lace covering. It was fastened in a low bun at the nape of her neck.
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