An Amish Homecoming Page 21

  “Because I grew my hair out to cover it. But it doesn’t really . . .” He jerked away when she reached up to touch his head. “Stop it!”

  “I’ll be gentle.”

  “It doesn’t hurt it just . . . looks demented. And freaky.”

  “It’s not even noticeable.”

  “That’s a lie.” He leaned over and reached around her. “Give me the hat.”

  “No,” she insisted, wanting to know more about this. “I want to see.”

  “Back off, Serena. I’m not kidding.”

  “I’m not either,” Serena said, suddenly noticing his set jaw and flaring eyes. “Scout, come on. I just want to understand this better, and I can’t believe you feel like you need to hide this from me.”

  “And I can’t believe you could be so inconsiderate and pushy. You just . . . you have no respect!” He leaped down from the table and jogged back toward the truck.

  “Wait! Scout, come on.” Was he leaving her here, alone in the dark?

  “Why don’t you just shut up?”

  Stung, she felt her jaw drop open. That was an obnoxious thing to say! She huffed out a sigh, gathered up the blanket and hat, and hopped down from the picnic table. Trudging toward the truck, she felt bad. Maybe she should have reacted with a little more sensitivity, but she hadn’t known that he’d been in an accident. She’d had no idea that he always wore a hat to cover a scar. And she didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to hide the scar when you could barely see it, anyway.

  So it wasn’t really her fault.

  She’d been goofing around, curious to see him without a hat.

  And he’d freaked out and stormed off. Was that fair?

  A dark figure appeared on the path ahead. She squinted, watching him, taking a minute to identify Scout by the way he moved.

  “Where were you?” she called to him. “I thought you left.”

  He paused on the path, waiting for her to catch up with him. “I went back to the truck to get a hat, since you so rudely stole mine.”

  “Oh, please, don’t make a big deal out of this. Look, I’m sorry if I was a little pushy, but I didn’t know. You could have told me. You should have.”

  His mouth was set in a grim frown. “It’s not something that comes up in conversation. ‘Hi, how’s it going? And by the way, I almost got killed in a farm accident.’”

  “Scout, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know. And it hurts me that you don’t trust me.”

  “I do.”

  “No. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me. And you won’t let me see your bare head. Really?” She handed him the hat, hitched the blanket over her shoulders, and continued walking toward the parking lot. “You don’t trust me. You won’t let me in.”

  “I told you from the beginning that we should just stay friends.”

  She didn’t have an answer for that because it was true. He’d warned her, but she’d been confident that she could overcome his hesitance.

  “I knew you’d end up pushing me to a place out of my comfort zone. And here we are. You’re pushing, and I have to stop you.”

  “Why, Scout? You know I’ll understand. You know I love who you are, not how you look. I mean, wait. I do like the way you look, but that’s not what matters the most.”

  “That’s what my girlfriend Eileen said right after the accident. She promised to stay by my side, no matter what. But it didn’t take long until she drifted away, along with most of my friends. Some of them were kids I’d known since grade school. They dried up. Stopped coming around and calling. Not that I can blame them. I was no fun at the time, going in and out of surgeries, missing school.”

  “That must have been rough,” Serena said. “Especially in high school, when you can feel isolated even when you have friends.”

  He shrugged. “Accidents happen. I got over it.”

  Not completely, she thought. “You probably need to talk about it, Scout,” she said as they arrived back at the truck. “It takes time to work through something that traumatic.”

  “Actually, I’m talked out.” He took the blanket from her, opened the passenger side door, and tossed it into the truck. “Get in, and I’ll drive you home.”

  To Serena, it sounded like an order.

  She folded her arms against the chill air. “I think we need to talk about this.”

  “And I said no.” He squinted at her, his jaw tight. “What makes you an expert on these things? On trauma in someone else’s life? What makes you think you have a right to know anything about me?”

  His words were an arrow through her heart. “I thought I could help, Scout,” she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. Maybe from the cold. “I think I can.”

  “Well, you’re wrong on that.” His eyes were steely blue and cold. “Listen, this is my fault, okay? I thought . . . I’d hoped that I’d moved beyond the worst of it, that I was ready to, I don’t know, start over. Turns out I was wrong. I can’t be in a relationship with you. I just can’t do it.”

  A knot formed in her throat as his words sank in.

  He was breaking up with her.

  And her normal inclination, to talk about things and work things out, wasn’t going to fly here. She’d upset him, pushed him too far.

  But she had to try. “Can’t we at least talk about this?” she asked.

  He held up his hand. “Please, no. I just want to take you home. And that doesn’t mean we’re going to talk it out on the way. I don’t want to hear about how you’re going to help me and tie everything up with a pretty bow. Just get in the truck.”

  “No, thanks.” Serena slammed the passenger door of the truck and stepped back. “I’ll find my own way home.”

  “Serena . . . come on,” Scout called after her as she walked along the river path through the dark park.

  She ignored him, blocking out his voice as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. If she followed the path to the end, it would put her on a street that led into the main part of town. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do in town, but she would figure something out.

  One thing she knew for sure, she was not getting into that truck with Scout.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Serena spotted the lights of the drive-in burger joint and decided to stop there. During most of her walk from the park, the lights of Scout’s truck had been at her back as he followed along behind her.

  It made her so mad. After the awful things he’d said, after he’d dumped her, he was the last person she wanted to face.

  At the edge of town, she turned toward his truck and silently pointed to the side, gesturing for him to get lost.

  Light flooded over her as the truck pulled up and he leaned out the window. “Let me take you home. I feel responsible.”

  “Don’t. Consider yourself off the hook. I’ll find my own way home,” she said. “And you’re wasting your time following me. I’m not getting in that truck. So just go. Buh-bye.”

  “Serena . . . please.”

  She turned away and marched down the street. Let him stew in his guilt. She had enough of her own heartbreak and fury to deal with.

  When she walked into the parking lot of the burger place, five cars were pulled up to bays, and at the end the young people from two cars had spilled out to talk and hang out. She recognized a few people from school. Music played over loudspeakers, and the whole scene was kind of festive. She looked behind her, but didn’t see Scout’s car. Good. Maybe he’d given up. The last thing she needed was Scout shadowing her while she had a chance to meet other people.

  The night air was getting to her, so she ducked inside the small shop to warm up. Peeking out the window around a poster of giant French fries, she figured that Scout would move on when he didn’t see her in town. The handful of inside tables was nearly empty, with only an older man reading a newspaper and a middle-aged couple eating a meal. Serena ordered a burger and hot tea, and then took a seat at a table, warming her hands on the teacup while she waited for the food.


  Thinking about Scout made her want to cry. She tried to clear her head, but all the awful things Scout had said came popping back into her mind.

  What makes you think you have a right to know anything about me?

  I can’t be in a relationship with you.

  He had called her pushy. He had told her to shut up.

  Taking away her gift of speech would be like taking away a superhero’s special power.

  She took a sip of tea, which helped her warm up. Her number was called at the counter, and she was just biting into her burger when Johnny Rotten came into the shop. He was talking on a cell phone, but he seemed bored. She didn’t acknowledge him as he paced and talked, giving one-word answers. Talking to his mom, she guessed. Or maybe his girlfriend.

  Her cell phone buzzed, surprising her. It was a text message from Scout.

  Ugh.

  Are you home? If you need a ride, reach out to me.

  I feel bad.

  She felt bad too, but turning to him was not the answer.

  She was savoring the last bite of burger when Johnny ended his call and swung around toward her. “Hey, Philly girl.”

  In every conversation they’d had at school, he’d never been able to get over the fact that she wasn’t from here. Serena had gotten used to it, realizing that being an outsider from a city gave her a certain cachet.

  “Hey, Johnny. How’s it going?”

  “All good. I’ve never seen you out this late.”

  “Yeah. I guess I’m turning over a new leaf.”

  He looked around. “Is your boyfriend in the bathroom?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just me.”

  “Flying solo? You really are stepping out.” He smiled as he sat down in the seat across from her. “What’s that? Are you drinking tea like my old grandma?”

  She shrugged. “I was cold.”

  He reached inside his jacket and showed her a silver flask. “This is what you need to warm up.” He took a slug and sighed. “Whiskey. You game?”

  A drink would help blur out the images of Scout in her head. She took the lid off her paper cup and pushed it toward him. “Sure.”

  Johnny’s whiskey helped take the edge off, and before she knew it they were out in the parking lot, talking and laughing with the other guys and girls there. Serena talked to everyone—a few sips of whiskey boosted her confidence—and the conversations only reinforced her theory that people are nice to you when you’re nice first. Or was that Scout’s theory? She was losing track.

  At some point she started wearing Johnny’s leather jacket and sipping from the flask that had been warmed in the inside pocket. The sleeves of the jacket dangled over her hands, and it made her feel petite as she told stories about milking cows and Amish water balloon fights to the group. She was a hit. People were laughing hysterically.

  All too soon, the music stopped, and the parking lot got dark, and Johnny told her that the burger stand was closing. He showed her a glass bottle of brandy and told her they could take the party on the road. “Giddy up!” she exclaimed.

  She found herself in the passenger seat, while two of Johnny’s friends climbed into the back. She wasn’t sure what kind of car it was, except that it was sparkly blue, low-slung, with a spoiler on the back like a race car. And loud. The engine was almost louder than the music they played as Johnny muscled the car down the road, laughing as the tires squealed on the pavement.

  It was super fun for a while, but then everyone got kind of quiet, and Serena realized how tired she was. She leaned her head against the doorframe, and when she opened her eyes again they were on a country road, speeding along. Gazing out into the darkness broken only by their headlights, she had no idea where they were. The road had brush and trees on the side, occasionally a fence or a ditch. Like any country road in any part of Pennsylvania.

  “This is your lucky night!” Johnny said, slowing his speed. “We’ve got a horse and buggy coming up on the road ahead. That’s unusual at this time of night.”

  Trying to focus, Serena could just make out the reflective tape and dim lights on the approaching buggy. “I wonder why they’re out so late? Maybe an emergency.”

  “We’re going to have a little fun with the horse,” Johnny said.

  “What?” Her head was starting to hurt. She hoped he was driving her home. “What are you talking about?”

  “Watch this.” He fiddled with something near the steering wheel, and the field of light grew, then dimmed again. “The bright lights spook the horses.”

  “Stop that!” She shoved Johnny’s shoulder, but he kept flicking the brights on. “Johnny, cut it out!”

  Up ahead, the horse whinnied, and Serena felt sure she could see the panicked whites of the horse’s eyes as Johnny tried to torment the poor creature. The guys in the backseat laughed, a cruel laughter. A reckless, dangerous thing to do, and Serena sat right here beside Johnny, his unwilling accomplice.

  In seconds the car whipped past the horse and buggy, and Serena was craning her neck to try to make sure everyone was okay. It was hard to tell, but at least she could see that the buggy was still on the road.

  She set her stare on Johnny. “Stop the car,” she said. “Pull over. Now!”

  “Calm down,” he said.

  “I’m not messing around. Stop the car, Johnny.”

  Seeing that she was serious, he let out a huff of breath, slowed the car, and pulled over onto the shoulder. “What’s the problem, Queen Serene?”

  “You are.” She pushed her hair out of her face and opened the car door. The blast of cool air was almost as sobering as the attack on the poor horse. “I’m not driving with an idiot.”

  “Come on,” Johnny said. “We were just having fun. No harm done.”

  “You tried to startle that horse by flashing your brights. Someone could have been hurt, or worse.”

  “And now you’re going to lecture me?”

  “I should call the police, but I’m not going to stick around with you one minute more than I have to.” She stepped out of the car. “Don’t you ever, ever scare anyone like that again.”

  Johnny’s face was a ghostly blue in the light from the dashboard. “Whatever.” He said something to the guys in the back, and the rear door opened. Johnny’s friend Justin got out of the car and moved to the front seat that Serena had vacated. “Good luck getting home.”

  Serena stepped back as gravel sprayed under the car tires. The vehicle wiggled then caught traction on the pavement as it zoomed off into the distance, two small red lights in the darkness.

  As she went to pull her cell phone from her pocket, she realized she was still wearing Johnny’s leather jacket. Well, that might have been the only good thing that happened tonight. She turned on her phone, but there was no signal. Even if she had one, who would she call, anyway? Her sisters were away from a cell tower. Her dad was miles away in Philadelphia. Even if she called the phone shack at the Lapp farm, her messages probably wouldn’t be retrieved for days, since the Amish didn’t live for their phones the way that English folk did.

  English folk? Now even her thoughts were turning Amish.

  No taxi, no Uber, no cell service. She was a long way from the party nights in Philadelphia when she had stayed out until after dawn and then tried to sneak back into the house. Right now all she wanted was to be home in bed, home at the Lapp farm.

  She kicked a can at the side of the road as she walked toward what looked like the lights of a house. Walking, walking. She needed water, and a headache was forming behind her eyes, and she wanted to cry.

  But she had to be strong. Keep walking, one step at a time. And eventually, she’d find her way home.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Essie was deep asleep, dreaming of finding a patch of late raspberries for canning, when someone shook her awake. Her cousin Grace leaned over her, shaking her shoulder gently.

  “Grace. Is everything all right?”

  “All good. Except for your boyfriend wa
iting downstairs.”

  Her boyfriend . . . Harlan? She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting him.”

  “You should have,” Annie said from her spot at the window, her arms folded over her nightgown. “It’s Saturday night, time to come courting.” She put her face to the window screen and called, “She’ll be right down.”

  “I’m trying to sleep,” Lizzie complained, rolling over in bed.

  Essie yawned and looked around the bedroom. “Where’s Serena?”

  “Still out with Scout,” Grace said.

  Those two never missed a Saturday night, thought Essie as she wound her hair up and put her prayer kapp on. She’d been so exhausted from canning and cooking and her frequent trips to see Collette that she hadn’t heard a thing. “How is it that you two heard him and I slept through it?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  “Annie thought it was her boyfriend,” Grace said.

  “You did?” Essie whirled around to face her sister, who’d always been too much of a tomboy to bother with fellows. “Who?”

  “Maybe Zachary Coblentz.” Annie closed the window and climbed up to her top bunk. “He said something about coming by, but I didn’t encourage him too much.”

  “Do you like spending time with him?” Essie asked.

  Annie shrugged. “I guess.”

  Essie smiled. “Next time, give him a little hope. Maybe smile. Tell him a little something about yourself, and listen when he tells his stories. Be kind.”

  Grace and Annie giggled, which caused Megan to remind them all to keep it down as Essie slipped out into the hall.

  Downstairs, she opened the door to Harlan, all six feet of him, broad shoulders filling the doorway. With his dark hair and amber eyes, dressed in black jacket, trousers, and hat, he cut a fine appearance. Her heart raced just at the sight of him.

  “It’s just like old times,” she said as he stepped inside. “Except I was fast asleep.”

  “I know. I haven’t been by on a Saturday since the accident.”

  “You’ve had things to take care of,” she said. “Your mem and sister. The medical bills. Your job.”