A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 8

  “What about your dress?” Leah asked Remy. “Have you started sewing it?”

  “Oh.” Remy’s green eyes grew round. “I have to sew a dress? By hand?”

  “You can use a sewing machine,” Mammi Nell said. “With a pedal for the feet.” To demonstrate, she made a waving motion with one hand.

  Remy’s surprise turned to fear. “The machine. Yes, I’ve tried that. I don’t think it likes me.”

  “We can help you, Susie and I,” Leah offered.

  “We know how to sew right well. We’ll do it for you,” Susie agreed. “The machine likes us.”

  “Denki,” Remy said. “I’m so grateful, and I’ll help you in any way that I can. I want to learn everything, but some things take longer than others to master.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get the machine to like you one of these days,” Adam told Remy, his face softened with a small smile. His dark eyes glimmered with such love for her that Sadie felt a knot form in her throat.

  The Big Love.

  Watching them now, Sadie suddenly realized that she and Frank didn’t have an attachment like this. They weren’t even close.

  “But this news is a family matter until the fall,” Adam told everyone. “Nothing will be official until we’re published in church shortly before the wedding.”

  “But you can’t wait until that time to start getting ready,” Mammi warned. “There are countless things to be done for the big day. There will be nuts to crack, corn to husk, furniture to be moved, floors and walls to be scrubbed. You’ll need to borrow dishes and tables for the wedding dinner.”

  “So we’re going to cater it ourselves,” Remy said, nodding.

  “That’s how we do it,” Adam said. “You don’t have to serve on the wedding day.”

  “But the bride and groom pitch in with cleanup the day after the wedding,” Mary said. “And Five is a very good worker, so I think he’ll have it all done in a snap.”

  “Whoa, Mary!” Five’s blue eyes sparked with humor. “Just because they call me Five doesn’t mean I can do the work of five men.”

  “Of course you can.” She waved him off. “That’s why your father doesn’t want you to leave the farm.”

  “Oh, he wants me to leave, all right. He just doesn’t have any way to get rid of me. There’s no land left to be doled out when we get married.”

  “Is that so?” Jonah asked. “Then what’s your plan?”

  “We’ll be making a home over the carriage house,” Five said. “At least for the first year or so. My dat’s talking about building another house on the farm, but that would be down the road.”

  Sadie knew that Five’s father had set the older Beiler sons up with parcels of land, but many Amish farmers had no more left to give without cutting the farm too small. It was a problem for some Amish men when they married and started their own families.

  “So, Mary, it looks like we’re stuck living on top of the old buggies,” Five said, a mischievous smile lifting the corners of his lips.

  “That’s fine by me, as long as we’re together.” Mary tucked her chin, as if to hide her face from the family, but Sadie could see the radiant love in her eyes.

  Oh, how she ached to know true love like theirs.

  But maybe she knew it wasn’t ever going to happen with Frank. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but there it was … a cold, hard truth.

  Perhaps her heart had been hardened by the past year or so … the tragedy of her parents’ deaths. The pain of finding that they’d been killed by someone just down the road, a neighbor, a friend.

  She took a drink of water, grateful to hide her conflicted emotions in the deep cup. When she looked down the narrow barrel of the cup, she tried to see herself falling in love with a nice Amish boy.

  Who could it be?

  Ruben Zook glared at her, a devilish look in his eyes.

  No, no, that would not do.

  And then there was Amos Lapp, only that silly grin belonged more on Daisy the cow.

  Was there no young man in the world who could spark the light of love in her heart?

  She stared into the bottom of the cup, eager for an answer.

  And the face that floated into her mind nearly made her choke on her sip of water.

  Mike Trueherz.

  SEVEN

  Mike stared down at the dissected cat, its skin and flesh neatly pulled back to display its innards. Heart, liver, intestines … he could identify them all, but a perverse desire to flunk this test made him pause.

  Failing Bio 101 at the community college definitely wouldn’t bode well for med school. Maybe that would be a way out. Maybe then he could …

  No. Stupid plan. It was already April, and he was just six weeks away from being done with community college; he’d only be sabotaging himself if he screwed things up now.

  He filled in the correct answers on the captioned test form and moved on to the next specimen: a frog pinned down to the paraffin, paralyzed then meticulously carved so that students could see its beating heart.

  It seemed criminal to use a living thing that way—even if students did need to learn anatomy.

  He turned away, but when he found himself facing two other students with lab tests in hand, he moved again. The last thing he needed was for someone to accuse him of cheating on an exam. Mike knew the answers; he just didn’t want to be here.

  Maybe the smell of formaldehyde in the airless room was getting to him. Going to a counter to fill out the rest of the exam, he longed for the smells of Jamaica, the sweet aroma of star apple fruit, or the mango tree that used to grow right outside his little hut. So many afternoons he’d come home from the clinic to find his porch full of kids from the village, some who didn’t have the means to attend school, others who had finished for the day and just enjoyed spending time with Mike. Oh, and there was the tire swing beside the porch, too. Sometimes Mike had felt as if he’d been supervising a playground, but that was fine with him. He’d enjoyed chatting with the kids each day, getting them to draw pictures with his supply of crayons, and even getting some of them started on the basics of the alphabet and building words. He’d loved coming home to see them on the porch—Algernon and Vonnie and Oliver. Their bright eyes were the best welcome in the world. In Jamaica, he’d been able to really make a difference, getting families to pursue medical care, getting children into school.

  But here … he felt like a paper-pusher and a fraud.

  Gritting his teeth, he quickly reviewed the test one last time before turning it in. After this, he was free for the weekend, and his Honda was already packed for his escape. He was heading to Philly, where he’d hook up with old friends, let his gran take him out to dinner, and sleep in the top story of her historic townhouse, a home that had been in the family long before Mike was born. Since he’d returned from Jamaica, his weekend trips to Philadelphia had kept him sane. He was surprised that his parents hadn’t gotten suspicious about their son always flying the coop, but the upside was that he got to spend time with Katherine Trueherz, his father’s mother.

  It was Getaway Friday, and Mike was already gone.

  WELCOME TO PHILADELPHIA,

  CITY OF BROTHERLY LOVE

  Whenever Mike passed that sign he breathed a sigh of relief. Some people were dying to get out of the city, but he enjoyed the faster pace, the lights and noise and endless activity. Normally he drove straight to Gran’s house and dropped off his stuff, but tonight he was headed to a reunion of sorts, a get-together with two of the other Peace Corps volunteers he had trained with. His friend Daryl Taveras had scored three tickets to the Phillies game and Mike didn’t want to arrive late to their meeting place.

  The coffee shop wasn’t crowded. Mike spotted his friends at a small table under one of the orange drop lights along the glass wall. “Austin! Daryl!”

  Daryl rose and threw his arms out. He was a short but solid African American man with a wide smile that lit up his face. “Mikey! I haven’t seen you since last weekend!” He pulled M
ike into a bear hug.

  “Wait a minute. I’m the prodigal son.” Austin Dorsett, who had just moved to Philly from Maryland, pushed in beside them and made it a group hug.

  Mike laughed. He could always count on these guys for a few laughs. “Austin! I haven’t seen you since Jamaica.”

  “Yah, mon.” Austin clapped Mike on the back. Although he was well into his twenties, the freckles that stood out against his fair complexion made him look like a kid. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Austin had always stood out when they were traveling together in Jamaica. “And I brought you a souvenir.” He reached into a backpack on a chair and took out an oblong sphere.

  Mike squinted. “Mango? Really?”

  Austin shrugged. “For old times’ sake.” He tossed the mango to Mike. “Got it at Safeway. Every time we talk on the phone, you wax sentimental about the islands.”

  “Product of Costa Rica,” Mike said, reading the label.

  “Hey, it’s the thought that counts,” Austin said, rubbing one hand over his bristly blond hair.

  “Do I have time to grab a drink before we go?” Mike asked, pointing a thumb toward the counter.

  “Go for it. It’s still more than an hour till game time. I figure we should hang here awhile, keep out of that hot sun.”

  Mike ordered an iced coffee, and the three young men sat around the small table, where the guys had a game of checkers going.

  “Don’t let me interrupt your big game,” Mike said.

  Daryl was already scooping the checkers into a box. “That’s okay. I’m so far ahead of Austin, he doesn’t have a chance.”

  “Not true. I employ the ‘come from behind’ strategy.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m glad the Phillies don’t have you coaching,” Daryl said with a wry expression. “I like my team to win, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

  They chatted about old times, recounting anecdotes of their assignments. While Mike and Austin had been assigned to different locations in Jamaica, Daryl had gone to the Dominican Republic, where he had used his horticultural degree to assist residents in planting trees.

  Listening to Daryl talk about his new job with the city parks department, Mike felt right at home with his old friends. He wondered if they too felt that their time in the Peace Corps was the highlight of their lives. It had been a time of discovery and adventure for all of them. For Mike, it was a period in his life when he had been the best person he thought he could ever be. Sometimes it felt like his life had peaked in Jamaica, and it had been racing downhill ever since.

  “So I’m looking forward to having you guys around here twenty-four/seven,” Daryl said. “One at Temple and one mooching off a girlfriend.”

  “Really?” Mike turned to Austin, who had propped his sunglasses on his head, two dark disks sinking in his thick blond hair. “You’ve got a girlfriend? Does she know what you’re really like?”

  Austin grinned. “No, and please don’t tell her, or she’ll send me back to Maryland.” He added that he would move in with Daryl while he looked for a teaching position. Job opportunities were tight all over, but he had a lead at a charter school, where his two years of teaching in Jamaica would be a valuable asset.

  “And how about you?” Austin asked. “Are you the head of the ER at Philly General yet?”

  “That would be the ten-year plan. Sort of.” Mike let his gaze drop to the paper cup in his hand, his spirits sinking at the thought of the work ahead of him.

  “What’s the matter?” Daryl gave him a bump on the shoulder. “You look like they just canceled Grey’s Anatomy.”

  Mike shook his head. “Just a bad day at work. I’ll get over it.”

  “This is not the Mike we know and love.” Austin squinted at him. “What’s up?”

  “What?” Mike shrugged. “I can’t have a bad day?” But even as he said it, he knew he was trying to contain a tempest that had been swirling inside him for a while now. He put his coffee on the table and snorted. “Actually, I’ve been having a string of bad days. For the past year and a half.”

  Daryl and Austin laughed, but Mike kept his deadpan expression.

  “You’re serious?” Daryl asked.

  “Yah, mon.” Mike rubbed his eyes and groaned. “I don’t know exactly what’s bringing me down, but I know I’ve got to break the routine. September can’t come soon enough. I’m going to see if I can get a summer job here so I can move out of the house as soon as my finals at the community college are done. Really, if I see another cornfield, I’m going to self-destruct.”

  “You really hate it there, don’t you?” Daryl nodded, concern flashing in his dark eyes. “Then it’s good to have a plan to get out.”

  Mike turned the coffee cup in his hand. “Do you ever miss the Caribbean?”

  “Sometimes.” Austin ran one fingertip over the lines of the checkerboard printed into the tabletop. “Our lives were a lot simpler then. No girlfriends or taxes or career anxiety. But that was then, this is now.”

  “Yeah. We’re different people now than we were back then, and believe me, that’s a good thing.” Daryl straightened, hands on his knees. “Do you remember how naïve I was when I set off for the Dominican Republic? I thought I was going to go into that village and hand out trees and sage advice on how to plant them. When I got there and people wouldn’t even talk to me about trees, I was floored. They’d talk to me about the weather and their children, but I couldn’t sell them on the importance of trees. I remember sitting in my bungalow, thinking that I’d be spending two years doing a whole lot of nothing. But I learned. I got into the pace of the village and I learned how to talk to people. Life lesson number one for me: You can’t force a person to embrace your cause.” He raked his dark hair back and grinned. “No matter how charming you are.”

  “But I felt like I made a difference there,” Mike said. “Since I’ve come back, nothing here seems to matter as much. I’m not changing anyone’s life for the better.”

  “So get out and change somebody’s life,” Austin said.

  “You need to get out of your comfort zone, bro.” Daryl clamped a hand on his shoulder. “St. Mark’s Men on a Mission awaits you.” Daryl had been after him to join the charitable organization at their church. “We’ve got a truck going around tomorrow, collecting furniture. You could be on the crew.”

  “I’m talking about how my life is void of meaning, and you want me to move furniture. Do you think that would really help?” Mike asked.

  “I know it.” Daryl rose and plunked a red Phillies cap on his head. “You need to get beyond yourself, take care of someone else’s problems for a change. Now pick yourself up so we can get to the stadium on time. We got tickets on the first-base line; got to see my man Ryan Howard close-up.”

  As they headed out to Daryl’s car, Mike realized his friends were right. He’d been self-absorbed, focused on his own issues and worries. It would feel good to get out and do something for someone else. Time to break out of his boring, safe bubble.

  EIGHT

  It was a worship day, and everyone was busy preparing to attend the service down the road when Sadie peeked into the new milking barn in search of Adam. She desperately wanted a word with her oldest brother before today’s services. Why had she waited until the last minute? She’d had more than two weeks to talk to him and give him a hint of warning about her decision. Two weeks! But every time she’d had the chance, she’d chickened out, knowing that Adam wouldn’t want to hear what she had decided. Now here it was, the first Sunday in May, and soon everyone at church would know her decision.

  Sadie didn’t see Adam in the new structure, but she paused, awed by the gentle click and whoosh of the new milking machines. It used to be that everyone in the family helped with the milking. Even the littlest ones could help sweep up or lay out fresh hay. But since the machines had arrived, Sadie really wasn’t needed in the milking barn anymore.

  She moved down the aisle to where her brother Gabe was bent under Daisy, cleaning her teat
s in preparation.

  “How are the cows liking the machines?” she asked.

  “Don’t know.” He gave her a deadpan look. “They haven’t said anything to me.”

  “Everybody knows you’re the one the cows like the most.” She moved to Daisy’s head and patted her neck. Holsteins were big cows, but gentle if you treated them right. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s saving us a lot of time. By hand it used to take half an hour to trim a cow like Daisy. Now she’s done in three minutes.”

  “Three minutes? That’s good. Now you’ll have more time to muck out the pens,” she teased.

  “That’s your specialty, isn’t it?” He straightened, his mouth curved in half a grin as Simon came over lugging a vat. Attached were many hoses, which the boy held looped over one arm.

  “Want to see how, Sadie?” Simon asked, his face aglow with interest. “It’s easy as pie.”

  “Sure,” she said. Though Jonah had already given her a lesson, she didn’t want to spoil Simon’s excitement.

  “Mind you don’t let the end of the hoses touch the ground,” Gabe reminded him. Together they showed Sadie how the hoses attached to Daisy’s teats. Then there was one switch to turn, and the machine began to make that gentle sound again: click and whoosh, click and whoosh.

  Sadie smiled, thinking that it could be the rhythm of a song. For a moment both her brothers stood beside her and the three of them watched, just staring in wonder as Daisy got milked without anyone needing to sit under her.

  “It’s pretty wonderful,” Sadie said.

  “Now Simon and I can handle the milking on our own,” Gabe replied.

  “It takes no time at all.” Only nine years old, Simon was barely up to Gabriel’s shoulders, but he looked every inch a little man as he tipped his straw hat back and surveyed the barn. Sadie felt a surge of love for him. He’d suffered deeply when their parents were killed. As the only person to witness the crime, Simon had shut down, unable to speak for months after the tragedy. And then he had been haunted by terrifying dreams that sent him walking through the house in the middle of the night.