A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 23

  “It spoke to me too, but in a different way. It made me realize that before school starts I’ve got to get off my duff and tell my dad to start looking for someone else for the practice. I’m not exactly sure what my gift is, but I’m working on finding it, and all roads lead back to my Peace Corps service in Jamaica. After the initial adjustment there, that job brought out my best qualities. It made me the best person I could be. I need to figure out how that all worked.”

  She studied the man beside her, fascinated by how his mind worked. So different from the Amish guys she knew, whose talk focused more on the doing than the thinking.

  “We’ve talked so much about the sermon. How about the music?” he asked.

  “The music was every bit as wonderful good as …” She paused, correcting herself. Some of her words weren’t exactly right in the Englisher world. “It was as wonderful as you promised. I do hope to return to St. Mark’s.”

  “I hope you can come back, too. I was psyched about spending the summer in the city, but with you so far away, it’s just not going to be the same.”

  Her heart ached at the thought of the miles that would separate them. Funny, how they had lived in neighboring towns for all their lives but lived in separate communities that rarely crossed paths. And now, now that they realized they fit together like two puzzle pieces, they would be separated by a hundred miles.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  After dropping Sadie off at the King farm, Mike stopped at home to give his parents an update on Gran’s care. He used to dread his visits here, but now, thinking of Sadie in the next town over, he felt the urge to hang here awhile. It felt comforting, knowing she was near.

  “You got it bad, Trueherz,” he said to himself as he pulled his Ford into the driveway. He found his mother chopping vegetables in the kitchen.

  “Hey, there! I got your message that you might be stopping by. I’m just making a salad for dinner. Will you be eating with us? Chicken sausage on the grill.”

  “I might be persuaded. Gran had some company for the weekend, so I think she might prefer a quiet dinner with Helen. She’s the aide who stays through the evening.” He stole a slice of radish from the cutting board. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Out for his walk, but he’ll be back soon. So, who was her visitor? I thought we weren’t going to have any exchange students in the house until she was further along in her recovery.”

  “Actually, it was a friend of mine.” He paused, wondering how much he should reveal. Mike wasn’t a fan of keeping secrets, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about Sadie.

  His mother stopped chopping and raised her eyes to him. “And …? How about some details, honey?”

  “I’m dating Sadie King.” He put it right out there, and it sounded pretty good. “You know Dad’s patient Susie? Sadie is her older sister.”

  Celeste was nodding. “Yes, I know the Kings, and I remember Sadie, too. But I’m a little surprised at you. Why didn’t you tell me you were dating an Amish girl?”

  “I didn’t think I needed permission.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just …” She frowned. “There’s a cultural divide there.”

  “I’m aware of that.” Man, was he ever. He hadn’t planned to fall for Sadie, but it just happened.

  “Okay.” His mother cocked her head to the side, studying him. “You were never one to be put off by the way someone looked. You’ve always had the ability to see clear through to a person’s soul.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She shrugged. “That’s probably why the Peace Corps was such a good match for you. Too bad you couldn’t make a permanent job out of it.”

  “Really.”

  He stole a slice of carrot, and she clucked at him. “Save some for dinner.”

  Just then the back door opened and Henry Trueherz stepped in. “Mike.” He sat on the bench by the door and removed his sneakers. “How’s it going with Mom?”

  “She’s making great progress. It’s only been weeks since the stroke and her speech is almost back to normal.” Mike recounted the reports he’d gotten that week from Gran’s doctor and physical therapist.

  As he listened, Mike’s father squinted, the creases at the edges of his eyes deepening. His hair was peppered with gray now, something Mike hadn’t noticed until recently. “Well, your grandmother is bouncing back faster than any of us expected.”

  “It’s because she’s in her own home, Henry.” Celeste clamped an opener onto a can of baked beans and started cranking. “It’s a good thing you didn’t force her into a rehab facility. I told you, Katherine needs her independence.”

  “Don’t we all,” Mike said offhandedly.

  “Independence is great,” Henry said. “But it would have been dangerous to have Mom banging around in that big old house on her own. One fall and she could have seriously injured herself, or worse.”

  “Well, I’m happy to keep her company,” Mike said. “And Gran’s been fine about having the nursing staff with her during the day.” He didn’t mention the many times that Katherine had sent the nurses off for errands, mostly to get them out of her hair for a while.

  Henry crossed to the sink and filled a glass with water. “And your mother and I are grateful for the way you’ve been looking after her. She wouldn’t have been able to recover at home without you there to coordinate her care. You’ve done an excellent job, Mike. For me it just reaffirms that you’re cut out for the medical profession.” He winked. “You got the service gene from your old man.”

  “Yeah, well …” Mike wanted to say that he was happy to serve, just not as a medical doctor, and not in the Paradise clinic.

  “Dinner’s ready as soon as you grill the sausages, Henry,” Celeste said, removing the long grill tongs from the drawer.

  Henry took a swig of water. “I’m on it.” He moved toward the fridge, then snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot.” He removed his wallet from the back pocket of his shorts and took out a small square of pink paper. “I’ve been talking with an old friend, Dr. Gary Hill. We met in med school. I’d like you to give him a call.”

  Mike took the slip of paper reluctantly. “What’s this about?”

  “Dr. Hill sits on the board at a med school in New England. He said he’d be happy to talk to you about your premed profile. I think he can give you some valuable advice that will give you an advantage over other candidates.” Henry ducked into the fridge, then emerged with a covered platter. “It’s certainly worth a chat.”

  “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dad.” Mike folded the paper in half and shoved it into his pocket as he went down the hall to his old room. He needed to get away from his father for a second. Two minutes with him, and Henry was already trying to take control of Mike’s life.

  The room hadn’t changed much, with the old bedspread on the bed and his computer desk in the corner.

  He opened the blinds and stared into the late gold of afternoon, frowning at the half-grown hay beyond the fence of his parents’ yard. Over the years he’d always hated Jeb Miller’s farm, which backed up to their property. The Millers were kind neighbors, generous with produce from their farm stand, but Mike had always hated staring at the flat fields, stinking of manure, buzzing with insects.

  Nowheresville.

  He raked his hair back and gave a frustrated sigh.

  All these years, he’d blamed the surrounding farmland for his own boredom. All these years, he should have been looking inside.

  He would call this Dr. Hill, out of respect for his father, but he was going to have to fill his father in on his real plans for the future. Images of the Temple campus and Gran’s house and Sadie and his young clients in Jamaica passed through his mind. He was going to tell Dad everything … just as soon as he figured out what those plans were.

  Now Sadie’s daily phone calls were the highlight of his day. Although Mike had always preferred real-life interactions, he was beginning to see the usefulness of a phone for staying in touch with someone who was far
away. Of course, she called at odd times of the day, from the chicken coop or the storage shed. Her older brother was watching her carefully after the last spate of trouble, so she had to be discreet. All this week, Mike had kept his phone in his pocket or right beside his bed, not wanting to miss her call.

  On Wednesday he was on duty to work on the furniture truck for St. Mark’s. When he arrived at the church, two guys had called in sick, so it was only Daryl and him.

  “Dude.” Daryl high-fived him. “I hope you ate a good breakfast, ’cause we got some heavy lifting ahead of us.”

  Their first stop was across town in Spring Garden, and Mike asked Daryl to drive because he might have to catch a call on his cell phone.

  Daryl pulled the truck out of the church parking lot and shot him a quick look. “So what’s this about an emergency phone call? You got a job on the hook or something?”

  “It’s no emergency. I just want to pick up if Sadie calls.”

  “Oh, Sadie, the girl sitting with your gran at church this week, right? Didn’t I meet her before?”

  “On a furniture run. That apartment in the museum district? I think she was totally dressed Amish then.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Daryl nodded. “So you’re hanging with an Amish girl?”

  “She’s a great girl, man.”

  “No doubt. But are the Amish cool with you? I’ve never seen any Amish youth checking out St. Mark’s before.”

  “She’s in her rumspringa, that time when teenagers get a little more latitude.”

  “So Mikey, you got to help me wrap my brain around this. I mean, what do you do when you’re hanging out with Sadie? The Amish aren’t allowed to go to movies or watch TV, right?”

  “They don’t have televisions, but I don’t think it’d be a crime to watch a movie. It actually never came up with us.”

  “That’s cool.”

  He wanted to tell Daryl how he felt like Sadie’s guardian angel in some ways, but he knew that sounded kind of pompous. How could he explain that he felt like he and Sadie were brought together for a reason? He could help her find her way in the Englisher world. His father was right about that part; Mike had inherited the service gene.

  Daryl pulled the truck to a stop at a light. “So. What is it you’re not telling me about this girl?”

  “Nothing. She’s curious about music and about the real world, and if she wants an education on it, I’d like to be the one to guide her.”

  “Come on, Mikey. I saw the way you looked at her that day when we picked up the furniture at that poshy-posh apartment building. And I’m not getting much of that altruistic social-worky vibe, if you know what I’m saying. I’d say you’re sweet on Sadie. Are you trying to help her or wanting to be her man?”

  Mike sighed. “Pretty much both of those things.”

  “Okay, that’s cool. I was just wondering.”

  As the truck crept through the city traffic, Mike imagined the sun-drenched hills of home. Ironically, now that he was finally living in Philadelphia, he longed to be back in Lancaster County, where he could at least spend a little time with Sadie, even if it was just a short car ride or a trip for ice cream.

  “So isn’t that sort of geographically undesirable?” Daryl asked. “You being here and her out in Amish country?”

  “Yeah. But actually, I’m heading out there tomorrow. This morning Mario, the owner of the bakery, was asking if someone could drive the truck out to pick up some whoopie pies for a catering gig. Apparently he gets them right from the source—an Amish woman in Strasburg. Which is not far from Halfway. Which means I’ll probably get to see her.”

  “Look at you, all skippy and gaga.” Daryl shook his head. “I’ve never seen you this way. You’re all about this girl.”

  “It’s called a relationship.”

  “More like temporary insanity.”

  “See, this is the reason you can’t stay in a relationship for more than a few weeks. You’ve got to be all about the girl.” Even as Mike said the words, he realized that this was a first for him, too. He’d never really wanted to hook up with anyone for more than a week or two. He’d never really clicked this way with a girl before.

  “Whatever.”

  “Don’t worry, Daryl. Someday it’ll happen for you, too. And you know what? I’ll be right here, saying I told you so.”

  “All skippy and gaga.” Daryl rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  A sea of red strawberries stretched before Sadie on the picnic table, and though she and Rachel were fairly swift at cutting off the tops and greenery, Ruthie and Susie were faster at cleaning with the hose and big, round strainers.

  “Here’s some more,” Susie said brightly, pouring another mound of berries onto the table.

  Inside the kitchen, Remy, Mary, and Aunt Betsy were already at work on two big batches of strawberry jam. With the berry season coming to a close, it was important to put up the last of the berries while they were fresh. Sadie was glad she didn’t have to work in the hot kitchen with the more experienced women; these days the kitchen trapped the heat of the sun as well as the cookstove.

  “We need some help here at the table,” Rachel called.

  “I’ll help,” Ruthie offered. “I’ve always wanted to learn to trim berries as fast as Sadie.” She picked up a small paring knife. “How do you make such quick work of it?”

  “Practice,” Sadie said, grabbing clean strawberries with her left hand and topping them off with the knife in her right hand. She made fast work of it, partly from habit but mostly because she wanted the job to be done. Mike was coming to Halfway today—probably not until later in the afternoon, but she wanted to be free of her chores in plenty of time to go meet him in town. She had her cell phone on the picnic bench beside her, hidden under her skirt but close enough to grab it if Mike called.

  Ruthie pursed her lips together, focusing on cutting three berries quickly. “How’s that?”

  “You’re thinking too hard,” Sadie said, causing Ruthie to frown.

  “That’s right speedy, Ruthie,” Rachel said encouragingly. “You just keep at it and you’ll be quick as Sadie in no time.” She shot Sadie a look. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Ya.” Sadie sucked on a tooth as she continued trimming strawberries. “I didn’t mean to snap, Ruthie.”

  After the fairy-tale weekend with Mike, the past few days on the farm had plodded along, hot and gritty, slow as molasses. At night she tossed and turned in the sticky summer air, and each morning she awoke as grumpy as the bullfrogs who had croaked through the night. It wasn’t just that she missed Mike. Being back here on the farm, she saw very little chance to let her light shine. On Adam’s orders she’d been ignoring Frank’s phone messages. Her time with the band was over. She would have to start all over with her music, and that was near impossible trapped here on the farm.

  “It’s all right,” Ruthie said. “You’ve been a thousand miles away since you got back from your weekend in the city.” She looked over her shoulder to be sure no grown-ups were nearby. “Tell me again about Mike? About how he held your hand while you looked out over the lights of the city?”

  Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. “You told her these things? She’s barely twelve.”

  “I’m old enough to understand.”

  “And it’s nothing bad,” Sadie said, defensively. “I just told her how we talked at night, on the rooftop.” When the story spilled out the other night while they were restless in their beds, Sadie had meant to tell her younger sister just a few details. But once she had started, it felt so good to talk about Mike, and their time together, and the wonderful message from God to share her light with the world.

  “Those are stories better left untold.” Rachel sliced with a vengeance. “At least, out here, where people might hear us.”

  “But I love hearing the stories,” Ruthie said. “Mike sounds like a wonderful good beau.”

  “An Englisher beau is no beau at all,” Rachel said. “A
t least that’s what everyone will tell you. I’m happy for the love in your heart, cousin. But this is going to be another thorn in your side. More trouble down the road for you.”

  “I know that, but it doesn’t change what’s in my heart,” Sadie said. Of course, the ministers and Adam and even Aunt Betsy and Uncle Nate would be disappointed with her. But it didn’t make her love Mike any less.

  Love. Yes, she loved him, no matter how much trouble that was going to bring her.

  Ruthie looked from Sadie to Rachel. “I think Sadie should be allowed to date Mike. It’s not fair that she should have to turn him away just because he’s Englisher.”

  “Not fair, but it’s the law,” Rachel said sternly. “And there’s good reason. When a girl falls for a beau outside the community, he takes her away from her family and friends … from all she’s ever known.”

  Sadie wanted to argue that it wasn’t true, that she wasn’t going anywhere, but she couldn’t lie to Ruthie. She didn’t want to leave her home, but she couldn’t imagine a future without Mike. Where would that leave her?

  Ruthie’s eyes went round as saucers. “Is that true?” she asked Sadie. “Are you going to leave us and go …” She bit her lower lip as her paring knife clattered to the table. “You can’t, Sadie. Mary’s leaving us in the fall, and you can’t go, too! What would we do without you?”

  “Rachel is just telling you what’s happened to other people,” Sadie said. “Lovina Lapp? She married an Englisher fella and moved away, up north, I think. But Rachel’s not talking about me.” She glared at her cousin, hoping Rachel would calm down with her talk.

  “We would miss you terribly. Your morning songs to wake us up. And who would do the cooking and manage the laundry?”

  “Remy’s learning to do all that,” Sadie said. “And you can help. You and Susie and Leah. It’s time all the girls get familiar with a woman’s chores.”

  Ruthie stared down at her palms, her fingers dyed red from handling the berries. “And who would lead the birthday song? Leah and Susie are next; their birthday is coming up in August.” Her eyes were wistful as she looked up at Sadie. “Oh, promise me you’ll be here for the twins’ birthday song!”