“I guess things are a little different here from Philly,” Scout said.
“That’s for sure. So, have you lived here all your life?”
“I was born in Pittsburgh, but I grew up here. I’ve still got a lot of family in the area, but my grandmother lives in Florida now. My parents have a condo there, and they keep threatening to sell the house and move down there.”
“That’s awful.”
“It’s not so bad. They like it down there, and I’m the last kid in the house, so I guess it’s about time I got my own place.”
“Would you stay here in Joyful River?”
“Probably. It’s home for me.”
Home . . . She’d always thought Philadelphia was her place to be, but now she wondered. Was home really where your heart was? Where your family was?
They had reached the outskirts of town, and Scout made two turns off the main road to a side street lined with trees and tidy lawns. He pulled into a brown shingled, two-story house and put the truck in park.
“This is it.” One of the neighbors was cutting the lawn, and the buzz of the mower and the smell of fresh-cut grass filled the air as they started toward the front door. Scout paused, snapped his fingers, and said: “We should probably go around back.”
She followed him around the back of the house to a patio with outdoor furniture and a big, grassy lawn. The noise was coming from a hand mower being pushed by a middle-aged woman with silvery blond hair swept back into a ponytail. “My mom,” Scout said, waving at the woman. She nodded at him and cut the engine.
“There’s a pitcher of iced tea inside,” she called out as she walked toward them. “Why don’t you bring it out for us?”
Scout nodded. “This is my mom, Bonnie. And this is Serena.” He climbed the steps to the house, leaving Serena to face the mom on her own.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Bonnie pulled off leather gloves and extended a hand. “Saturday is yard day for me. I do love my garden, but I’m not a fan of spiders and creepy crawly things.”
“I hear you,” Serena said, surprised by the softness of Bonnie’s hand as they shook. “You’re talking to a city girl who’s still going through culture shock here.” They talked about the things that had surprised Serena on the farm. The dust. The fat flies. The smell of manure when you least expected it. “You think you’re out in the country, getting fresh air, and then you smell that,” Serena said, scrunching up her face.
Bonnie laughed. “Everybody wants to get back to nature, but nobody mentions the smells.”
“Actually, I didn’t choose to come to the farm, but . . .” Serena didn’t want to admit that her aunt and uncle were really the only family who could take in her sisters and her. It sounded so desperate, when the last week had seemed more like the extended visits they’d made over the past summers with Mom. “But here I am.”
“Living on an Amish farm.”
“That’s right. But we’re going to the normal high school, so we’ll be keeping some connection to the real world.”
Bonnie smiled. “Actually, the world on your Amish family’s farm is just as real as you’ll find anywhere else. My family traveled a lot as a kid, and I find that people around the planet have universal wants and needs. Shelter, food, to love and be loved.” The lines at the edges of Bonnie’s eyes spoke of experience and wisdom.
“What countries did you live in?” Serena asked.
“All over. Belgium. Argentina. Japan . . .”
They were talking about Bonnie’s travels when the door opened and a dark red dog darted down the porch steps and blew into the yard at a gallop. Serena missed part of what Bonnie was saying as she watched the dog loop around the lawn mower twice, then double back to the patio and sit in front of Bonnie.
Scout was out the door seconds later, carrying a tray with iced tea.
“This is Red,” Bonnie said, turning toward the beautiful rusty-colored dog who looked at her with eager eyes. “She’s a sweet dog, but hopelessly afraid of the lawn mower.” Bonnie stroked the dog for a minute, and then Red came over and looked up intently at Serena.
“Hi, Red. You’re a beauty.” She held out her hand for the dog to sniff. Red eyed her curiously, then came closer and pressed against Serena’s knee. “Aw.” Serena felt a surge of affection.
“You’ve got a new friend,” Bonnie said.
“Whenever she hears the noise she holes up inside.” Scout put the tray down and started filling a glass. “That run around the yard was just her weird way of doing a victory lap. Like she’s conquered the mower.”
“You know, Scout, it might be herding mentality,” Bonnie said.
“That’s true. But the mower is never going to let itself be corralled.” He bent down and rubbed the dog’s scruff. “You’re a weird dog, but we love you.”
Red gave a little whimper and watched Scout as he sat down in a chair.
“Go get your ball,” Scout said. Red looked this way and that, and then walked over to the edge of the yard to retrieve a tennis ball.
“She found it,” Serena observed.
“She’s a pretty smart dog, except when it comes to lawn mowers,” Scout said. Red delivered the ball to him, and he chucked it out into the yard. This time, the dog bolted out to fetch it.
“Where did you get her?”
The iced tea helped to cool Serena’s nerves as Scout and his mother told her the story of how Red had found them when they went to donate old blankets to the local dog shelter.
“We weren’t looking to adopt,” Bonnie said, “but sometimes a dog finds you, and you just can’t say no.”
“Now she’s part of the family,” Scout said, throwing the ball again.
They talked and sipped tea for a few minutes before the conversation turned to furniture. “So you sell antiques?” Serena asked.
“Oh, heavens no. I’m more of a junk collector, but I just can’t stand to see good furniture tossed into a junk heap. So I take things off people’s hands and load them into my garage. My husband doesn’t mind, but it drives Scout crazy.”
“It would be nice to be able to use the garage for something besides junk,” Scout said without looking up from Red.
“I like to think that creative clutter is a sign of an organized mind,” Bonnie said with a smile. “And I’m not an untidy person. At work I keep my desk clean. But my garage junk is my hobby. So tell me, Serena, what sort of dresser are you looking for?”
Serena told her about the beautiful turquoise-painted dresser she’d seen at Joyful Gems.
Bonnie nodded. “That’s a lovely shop, isn’t it? I don’t have anything like that, but you could get yourself some paint and get creative. How big?”
“My sisters and I need a place to store our clothes,” Serena explained. “Right now we’re living out of suitcases.”
“One dresser for three young women? How about two?”
“There’s not that much space. We’re in a bunk room with my three cousins.”
“It’ll have to be a good size.” Bonnie rose. “Let’s take a look. Bring your tea.”
Red followed them around the side of the house as they went to the front of the garage. The electronic double door lifted, and Serena’s eyes opened wide at the mass of stacked furniture. “Wow.” It was wedged in so tightly, she wasn’t sure they could fit inside.
“I’ll take a few things out, so we can move in more easily,” Scout said. Serena helped him take out some wooden dining chairs, and he pulled out a large kitchen table and set it down in the driveway.
“I’ll supervise from out here.” Bonnie sat down at the table now parked in her driveway. “I like a chance to enjoy these old pieces.”
Scout and Serena stepped into the little pocket of space and surveyed the furniture that towered around them. “Any large dressers will be on the bottom with other stuff stacked on top,” Scout explained.
“What about that over there?” Serena asked.
He removed a nightstand and moved the dresser
underneath so that she could see the front. It was dark, shiny wood, with gold knobs on the small drawers.
“The drawers are too small,” she said, not wanting to say how unattractive the dark finish was. It seemed too glossy to be painted over.
“Look over to the left,” Bonnie called from the table. “I think that’s where most of the bedroom furniture is.”
Scout moved a wooden wardrobe in the left bay, revealing a few dressers. “Jackpot!” he said.
With the wardrobe gone, there was enough space for Serena to inspect the furniture, though it didn’t take her long. A tall, five-drawer dresser caught her eye. Although once painted white, it was scarred and dingy, missing half of the drawer pulls. There were round water stains on the top, and the drawers squeaked when she pulled them out.
Still, something about it stood out.
“It definitely needs paint,” she told Scout. She ran her fingertips over a deep scar on the face of the top drawer. “I bet I could fill this in a little, then paint the crack metallic silver, like that one in the store.”
“You could do that.”
“It had these elegant crystal knobs,” she said, “and I loved the way they caught the light.”
“Pretty sure they carry that stuff at the hardware store,” he said. “We can stop by and see, if you want.”
“That’d be great.” She smiled at Scout, grateful that he’d extended himself to help her with this project.
“Did you find something?” Bonnie joined them.
Serena gestured to the dresser. “I’d like to buy this one, if I can afford it. My aunt and uncle gave me thirty dollars to use, but I still need to buy some paint and knobs.”
“Save your money for the hardware store. I’m happy to gift it to you. My whole point in collecting these things is to find a good home for them.” Bonnie patted the side of the dresser. “I think you two are a match made in heaven.”
Was she talking about the dresser, or her son? Serena’s spirits soared as she dared a glance at Scout. He was nodding, his golden hair bobbing, a subtle smile on his face.
“Thank you so much,” she said. For a moment, the Tanners’ generosity and the joy of the moment overwhelmed her a little. That two people, two virtual strangers, would extend themselves and help her, out of the goodness of their hearts—that was daunting. She hoped that someday she could return the favor.
Together, Serena and Scout loaded the dresser into the back of his truck, and then systematically replaced the furniture in the garage. They grabbed lunch at Molly’s Home Diner, where they decided to split a home-style fried chicken dinner. When Serena noticed that the restaurant seemed to be staffed mostly by Amish women, Scout explained that the Amish community was growing, and there wasn’t enough land in Lancaster County to provide agricultural jobs for all the Amish men. “So people are spreading out, some moving to other places. Some Amish men and women take jobs in local businesses. But generally, the women end up working at home after they get married.”
“And they work hard,” Serena said. “There are a million chores to be done on a farm. My aunt Miriam is a whirlwind, but even when she sits down, she’s working on some knitting or sewing.”
While they waited for their food, they both looked up videos on ways to restore and paint furniture. “Chalk paint?” she said. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“It looks pretty straightforward in the video,” he said. “You don’t even have to remove the other finish.”
“Just fill the scars and paint. And then there’s the sanding for the distressed look, if I want it.”
“Step by step,” Scout said. “Sometimes you just have to do the work.”
“Usually, talk like that would scare me,” she said, sipping her water. She wasn’t really known as the worker in her family, but this seemed different. “Without my phone or the Internet or TV, I’ve got some spare time on my hands. It’ll be nice to use it to get something important done.”
“Don’t you have homework? I mean, to fill your time.”
“Please. Writing a book report or learning about old guys in history is not important.” She pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I wish I could get out of school like the Amish kids, but Aunt Miriam says it would upset my dad too much if I dropped out.”
“Besides, you’re a senior. If you stick with it this year, you’ll have your high school degree,” Scout said. “That counts for something.”
“I guess,” Serena said amicably. She didn’t know where a high school diploma would get her, but then she didn’t really know where she wanted to go in life. She was about to ask Scout about his dreams, but then the fried chicken and mashed potatoes arrived. Time to dig in.
When they were finished, Scout paid for her meal—which made it seem more and more like a date. (Yay!) She so wanted it to be a date, because he was so easy to talk to, so kind, and she always felt a glimmer of excitement when they were together.
The hardware store had a better selection of paints than she’d expected, and the salesclerk was able to direct her to the right grades of sand paper for her job. “Caribbean Blue Note” was the perfect color for the dresser—sort of a dusky turquoise. She paid for her supplies, realizing she would have to come back later with more money if she wanted those crystal knobs.
As she and Scout headed back to the dairy farm, a bag of supplies tucked in by her feet, Serena felt a little sad. “I’m sorry to see the day end,” she said. “Time really flies when we’re together, Scout.”
“It does.” He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
“More than friends, right? What if I said I was falling for you?”
“I’d say wow. I mean, you’re an amazing girl. But really, I’m not the guy you want to fall for.”
Crestfallen, Serena turned toward the window as he continued to explain.
“I’ve got college, a job at the firehouse, another job on the milk truck, and a dog that’s afraid of lawn mowers. That’s way too busy to be in a relationship.”
Too busy? What kind of a lame excuse was that? He wasn’t going to slip away so easily.
“Everyone is busy,” she said in a calm voice. “But people find time to be together when it matters. And it’s important for us to find that time.” She turned back toward him. “You come around every night, and I make it a point to come out and see you. It’s the highlight of your night, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“So we have a chance to see each other every day. I say we take advantage of that time and see where it leads.”
“I just can’t promise anything right now.”
“No promises required,” she said. “There’s something special between us, Scout. I know there is. Don’t you feel it?”
He shot her a quick glance, a restrained look in his blue eyes. “I do, but—”
“Don’t say anything else that might hurt my feelings.” She held up her palm to stop him. “Let’s just stick with what we know right now. There’s a chemistry between us. A spark.” She smiled. “A sparkle. And we need to give it some time to grow. Especially because you’re busy and I’m busy now that school is sucking up my quality time and I’ve got to learn how to paint furniture like, overnight.”
He nudged his cap back slightly and nodded. “Okay.”
“So I’ll see you tonight?”
He nodded. “Looking forward to it.”
She could tell he meant that. Proof that they were on the right track together.
* * *
That night, Serena stood in the circle of light cast by the battery lantern and struggled with a drawer of the old dresser. The woodshop at night was a little bit creepy, but Serena liked the fact that Uncle Alvin had given her a place to work apart from the activity of the rest of the family. She had spent time wiping down the dresser and scrubbing the inside of most of the drawers with a lemon cleaner so that they’d be ready for the sticky new drawer liners. None of the drawers glided smoothly, and one d
rawer seemed glued in place. “Try to cooperate,” she said, tugging on the bottom drawer, which was stubbornly sticking inside. “Come on!” she fumed. “I can’t paint you if you don’t open up!”
But the drawer wouldn’t budge.
She sighed. What was she supposed to do now?
A noise behind her made her flinch. She grabbed the lantern and moved behind the dresser as the door was nudged open.
“Serena?” Essie peered in and then entered, followed by Harlan, a quiet tower in dark pants and blue shirt.
Letting out the breath she’d been holding, Serena clutched her chest. “You scared the stuffing out of me.”
“Sorry.” Essie came into the circle of light, which illuminated her apron and patient face. “You’re working so late. I heard you talking about the sticky drawers at dinner, and I thought Harlan might be able to help. He’s a carpenter, you know.”
“Really?” Serena said. “That would be a big help. I don’t know what’s wrong with them. The bottom drawer is the worst.”
“Let me take a look.” He gave a tug. “Hmm.” He jiggled the edges of the drawer, which allowed him to pull it out a few inches. “This will need some help.” He went over to the workbench and found a flat screwdriver. “The trick is to get them out, then repair the tracks and give the edges of the drawers a good waxing. Then they should be no trouble at all.”
Essie moved closer to Serena and touched her shoulder. “See that? Harlan will get the dresser to cooperate.”
So Essie had heard her chastising the dresser? Serena smiled and linked arms with her cousin. It must be late. Most likely everyone else was in bed and Harlan had come round for Saturday courtship night. And here were Essie and Harlan, spending their treasured time together helping her.
“You guys . . . you don’t have to do this now,” Serena said. “I can figure it out in the morning.”
An Amish Homecoming Page 11