Feeling as if she had stumbled on a beautiful secret, Miriam kept to herself through much of the conversation. There were so many kinds of love, and she knew that Collette and the bishop would stay within the boundaries of what was acceptable for an Anabaptist leader and a church member.
Alvin appeared with Len Hostetler, and the tide shifted again as the men conversed. When Linda came in to announce that dinner would be ready soon, all the visitors declined. The bishop said he was having dinner with his eldest daughter and her family, and Miriam and Alvin had to join their family back at Lloyd and Greta’s. Collette thanked them for coming and wheeled herself into the dining room.
Before Miriam and Alvin got into the buggy, they asked Bishop Aaron about plans for the fund-raiser for the Yoder medical expenses. “We heard that planning is underway,” Alvin said.
“The date is set for the second Saturday of November at Miller’s Auction House, so we’ve got the ball rolling. Molly’s Home Diner will be serving barbecued chicken. A few folks have already pledged farm equipment, furniture, quilts, and what have you. We’ll need someone to organize it, but we’re off to a good start.”
“Thanks to Gott in heaven,” Miriam said. “It’s wonderful good that our community comes together when someone’s in need of help.”
“We’re looking for someone to coordinate donations if you’re interested,” Aaron suggested.
Alvin’s eyes twinkled as he glanced at Miriam. “I think our Essie could spare the time to take that on.”
“A fine idea,” Miriam agreed. “And Alvie, we’ll have to find something to donate. I’ll knit a blanket and bake something with the girls. What do you think?”
“We might have a dairy cow we can spare.” He stroked his beard, considering. “We’ll find something.”
“We must do our best to raise the money to cover those medical expenses,” Miriam said. “Already Harlan feels the responsibility falling on his shoulders, and it’s such a heavy burden for young people about to start out on their own.”
Oops! The second she said the words, she knew she had slipped. She was thinking of Harlan and Essie starting their household together, though their plans to marry were far from public yet.
Fortunately, the bishop didn’t flinch. “We will do our best,” he said, “and Gott will help us do the rest.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
As Essie guided the horse toward the Hostetlers’ driveway, she realized that her visits to Harlan’s mother had become her most dreaded part of the week. Although she enjoyed Collette’s company and longed to see a glimmer of love in Harlan’s eyes if she was able to catch him visiting, the nuisance of facing Linda Hostetler overshadowed all the positive aspects.
It didn’t help that Linda was bossy by nature. Because it was her home, she seemed to think she had the right to tell Collette what dress to wear that day, how much wood to put into the stove, and how to live her life. Collette was good-natured about taking Linda’s advice, but in private she had confided irritation to Essie. “I broke my leg,” Collette said under her breath, “but my brain is working just fine.”
Another problem was that Collette’s room at the front of the house seemed to get as much traffic as the farmer’s market in Joyful River. Even when Collette closed the door, Linda popped in as regularly as the bird on a cuckoo clock. Linda’s son Emmett frequently burst in, escaping from chores or playing a joke on his mother, who would find him and pull him out from under the table while she lectured him on commandments in the Bible. The little ones would toddle in and out, but at least this cheered Collette, who chatted with them or enjoyed watching them play a made-up game.
Linda and Len’s teenage daughters Dotty and June were scarce, unless Harlan happened to be visiting his mem. Once he came in the door, the young women came in with a cup of tea and snacks made especially for him. Not for Collette, and certainly not for Essie. “Try some of these whoopie pies that I made,” Dotty would say, claiming that she had worked on them all day in the kitchen.
“These molasses cookies are still warm,” June would claim. “Fresh out of the oven.” There were popcorn balls, fudge, streusel cake, and banana bread—enough goodies to open an Amish bakery, all offered to Harlan with a smile and soft words.
It made Essie sick to the stomach.
Not that she could blame June and Dotty for liking Harlan. In Essie’s mind, he was the most wonderful, lovable Amish man in Joyful River. But he was her beau—a fact that Linda didn’t seem to accept as she pushed her daughters at Harlan, egging them on to chat with him, even while Essie was sitting right there!
Today Essie came bearing an unusual array of gifts for Collette, whose latest bone scan had revealed that she had a calcium deficiency that might have contributed to her broken leg in the crash. Osteopenia was what they called it. While damage to the bone couldn’t be reversed, it could be stopped with exercise, medication, and a diet of calcium-rich foods.
During her last visit Essie had studied the pamphlet the doctor had given Collette, and back at home Mem had helped her assemble some foods loaded with calcium. In the back of the buggy she had two types of cheeses from Uncle Lloyd’s farm, almonds, and a white bean casserole with extra broccoli. She prayed that the combination of diet, medication, and physical therapy would bring Collette back to good health.
It was no surprise that Linda answered when Essie knocked on the door. “Come in,” she said, a sour look on her face.
“Hello, Essie,” Collette said cheerfully. She stood in the center of the room, holding on to a gray-framed walker.
“Look at you! On your feet and walking,” Essie exclaimed. “Good for you!”
“The physical therapist wants me to start using the walker,” Collette said. “And honestly, I’m happy to be up and moving again. But they don’t want me walking around without supervision.”
“If you don’t need me, I’ll get back to my chores,” Linda said.
“Essie can take over,” Collette said. “Denki, Linda.”
Essie showed Collette the basket of foods she’d brought, and Collette seemed delighted by each little thing. “I’ve never had white bean casserole. It sounds delicious.”
They walked around the room, then ventured outside, Collette taking her time with the walker and taking extra caution going down the ramp Harlan had built. Although it had rained that morning, the afternoon was dry and cool. Wet leaves decorated the sidewalk, red, gold, and orange, as if a child had glued them down along the way.
When Essie saw that Collette was tiring, they turned back to go inside. “Besides, it’s time for me to pick up Suzie from the pretzel factory,” she told Collette. “I promised her a ride so she can have dinner with you. She misses you so.”
“Harlan’s just not the cook I am,” Collette joked.
“What man is?” Essie added. “Though Harlan has special talents with wood. And now the factory is paying him to do his carving for customers.”
“It’s truly a blessing,” Collette said, taking measured steps, slow and steady. “He’s always enjoyed carving things out of soap or wood. Who thought he would find work doing something that unusual? Gott has blessed him.”
Although Collette seemed so pleased with Harlan’s success at work, her plan to leave Joyful River was going to end Harlan’s job. Essie wanted to ask Collette why she planned to uproot Harlan and take him away from the things that he loved. Take him away from his satisfying job and his loving future wife.
But Collette didn’t know about their wedding plans, and these days it seemed that Harlan would never tell her. It was wrong to blame Collette for trying to make an easier life for herself and her family. It was time for Essie to realize that things would not always go her way in life.
Sometimes, Gott’s will was hard to understand and accept. But as Mem always said, Gott did not make mistakes.
* * *
When Essie returned with Suzie, Harlan and Collette were in front of the house, taking yet another walk.
&nbs
p; “Mem!” Suzie jumped out of the buggy, happy to see her mother. “You are walking again!”
“Only with my walker and a helper,” Collette said, now leaning heavily on the walker, her head down.
“It might be time for a break,” Essie said.
“The doctor wants her on her feet,” Harlan said. “So I brought her out to walk.”
“Yah, but he doesn’t want her to overdo it,” Essie said, careful to avoid Harlan’s eyes, knowing that with one look he could unravel her emotional composure. “Let’s go inside. Suzie brought you a lovely surprise.”
“Fresh pretzels!” Suzie said, fetching the box from the buggy. “Mr. Smitty wanted you to have them. And they’re still warm.”
“Such a nice treat,” Collette said, starting her careful steps up the ramp to the porch.
“Let’s sit, and I’ll catch you up with everything that’s going on at the factory.” Suzie stood on the porch, waiting patiently as her mem walked to the door. “Deborah and Josie had cross words for each other, and now no one’s sure if Josie is going to be a table waiter at Deborah’s wedding.”
“Ach, those young girls don’t know how to let the small things go,” said Collette as she made it into the house.
Inside her room, Harlan had a million questions for his mother. Did she want to sit in her chair or the bed? Did she need help getting into the chair? Had she gotten enough exercise? Was she taking her medicine?
Collette’s usual calm remained in place as she answered her son, but Essie felt bad for her. As Collette and Suzie settled in, Essie suggested that Harlan come out to the porch and let mother and daughter catch up.
Outside a jittery Harlan paced as Essie took a seat. He wanted to make sure his mem was doing everything right for her recovery. Plenty of exercise, medication, and those foods with calcium. “Did she try any of those foods you brought?” he asked.
“She had some almonds, but I know she’ll eat everything she’s given,” Essie said. “She’s trying hard, Harlan.”
“I know,” he said, shaking out his hands as he paced. “I just don’t want anything else to go wrong.”
Just then the door opened and out popped the Hostetler girls.
“I brought some drinks,” June said, putting down a tray with two pitchers. “Would you like iced tea or lemonade?”
“Iced tea,” Harlan said.
“And I’d love a glass, too,” Essie added before the girls could plow over her.
Dotty offered cookies, and, when she launched into a story about how she’d gotten up early to bake them, Essie found her thoughts drifting away from this porch, miles from this house.
Her visits with Harlan at the Yoder family apartment had always been so pleasant, with time for food and conversation, board games and puzzles. Now she wondered sadly if she’d ever see that apartment again. With Collette planning to move to Ohio, she suspected they’d let the lease go in the next few months.
The thought of such drastic changes made Essie want to cry. Today’s Harlan seemed impatient and annoyed and so unhappy. She tried to joke with him the way they’d always done, teasing him and waiting for him to make a little joke in return. But he seemed to have lost his sense of humor.
Once, she had looked into his amber eyes and found security, hope, and a joy that sparked love in each moment. Today, those eyes held darker things: fear, annoyance, worry.
She wondered if she’d ever get her old Harlan back.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Scout held on to the popcorn and a medium Coke for them to share as Serena picked out two seats in the cinema and settled in. It was Saturday night, the best part of Serena’s week, when she got to be with Scout without a worry in the world.
“I love movies now,” she said, gathering some popcorn in one hand. “You appreciate stuff like this more when you don’t have TV or Internet access at home.”
“I like watching movies with you,” Scout said. “You always see things that I miss.”
“You’re so sweet. You’d be more tuned in to the plot if you’d grown up watching TV the way I did.”
“We never had time for it in my house,” he said. “There was always something to do outside, and now I’ve always got work.”
“Except for Saturdays,” she said. For several weeks they had made Saturdays their night together, catching movies, playing mini-golf, bowling, or just hanging out. The trucking company had found a driver to replace him Saturday nights, and sometimes Fridays, too. Weekends were the fun reward for a week of hard work at school and in the woodshop, where Serena was now managing two projects at a time, applying color and new life to old, neglected pieces of furniture.
“Except for Saturday.” Scout popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “That’s our day.”
The lights in the movie theater dimmed as Serena took a sip of soda. “Here we go. Hey, you should take off your hat. It’s good manners.”
Scout cupped a hand over the top of his head. “That’s okay. I don’t think people mind it.”
“Take it off,” she insisted. “You always have it on.”
He shook his head, looking down at the popcorn. “I’m more comfortable with it on.”
She let out a breath. “Come on, Scout.”
“Shh. It’s starting.”
She shot him a stern look, but he was immune to it, pretending to watch the film. He could be a stubborn one, but she was going to keep working on him. Sooner or later, she would get him to take off his hat inside buildings.
* * *
When they left the movie theater, it was dark outside, with the earthen smell of autumn in the crisp air. Neither Serena nor Scout were hungry, but neither wanted to end their date.
“Do you think we’d be able to see the stars from the river park?” Serena asked.
“Let’s check it out,” Scout said.
The little park at the edge of town had a tree-lined walkway along the river and a small parking lot. Scout parked in a spot overlooking the river and distant hills, and they meandered down the path to an area with picnic tables. Under a blanket from Scout’s truck, they sat on the tabletop and snuggled together. It was too overcast to do any real stargazing, so Serena updated him on her recent school assignments. “So I memorized all the countries in Africa for the geography quiz, and—oh! I started reading To Kill a Mockingbird, and you know what? Scout is a girl.”
“Yup.”
“Did you know that?”
He nodded. “The book is required reading in our house. My mom was so in love with it when she was pregnant, she was determined to name me Scout, regardless of gender.”
“You gotta love Bonnie’s passion for things. When she’s interested in something, she jumps right in.”
“It’s a great quality,” Scout agreed. “Reminds me of someone else I know.”
She looked at him blankly, and then did a double take. “Who, me?”
“The girl who started her own furniture business because she needed a place to put her clothes. The city girl who’s learning to chart the stars.”
“I guess I am all those things,” Serena said, smiling coyly. “You can add, the girl who stole your heart.”
“That’s a little corny, but very true.”
“Sometimes corny is romantic,” she said, shifting slightly to face him.
He tipped his hat back, which gave her a better look at his beautiful pale eyes, his smile lines, his wide smile, a broad happiness that seemed to reach from head to toe. They were a good match in that way—two easygoing, upbeat people who tried to see the positive side of things.
“You want romantic? Maybe I should sing.” He cleared his throat and started singing a song about stars. How each person had their own star, shining love on other people.
As he sang, Serena lifted her face to the sky and breathed in the glittering fields of stars. Although she had learned to find the North Star and the Big Dipper, tonight she just wanted to bask in the gems in the sky and Scout’s song about love. This night,
this moment full of love, was something she would always remember.
“That’s one of the sweetest songs I’ve ever heard,” she said when he finished.
“I kind of meant it as a joke.” He tucked his right arm around her waist. “I don’t have the best singing voice.”
“But you get an A for effort.”
His left hand touched her shoulder, then ran down her arm, leaving tingles in its wake. “You’re getting cold. I can get my jacket from the car.”
“No, stay here with me.” She edged closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re keeping me warm.”
“You sure? I think it’s near forty degrees.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, feeling the warmth of his body under her cheek. She loved the coziness of Scout’s arms. Glancing up, she got an idea. She reached up toward his head. “Maybe I’ll just borrow your hat.” The second she lifted it from his head, his body went rigid, and he jerked away from her.
“No! Hey! Give me that.”
“It’s nice and warm.” She was about to put it on her head when he grabbed for it, but she evaded his reach.
“Give it back!” he said, wildly raking through his hair, pushing it to one side.
“Just a second.” She pressed the stunt, despite his irritation. “Calm down and let me get a real look at you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your hat on.”
“There’s a reason for that. I wear a hat to cover a scar.”
“What? Wait. When did you get hurt?”
“In high school. I’d been hired to help on an Amish farm, and the horses pulling a manure spreader got spooked. I ended up with a concussion and a nasty scar.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s awful, but I had no idea. You never told me.” She held his hat behind her back, out of reach as she studied the side of his head. In the dim light, all she saw was mussed blond hair. “I can’t even see a scar.”
An Amish Homecoming Page 20