by Beth Wiseman
She pushed her chair back and excused herself. “Naomi, as always, the meal was very gut.”
“Danki.” Naomi barely smiled. The girl had dark circles under her eyes again, and Esther suspected she’d cried herself to sleep after hearing Thomas was with someone else. She glanced at Amos, hoping he might be the answer to their prayers.
She walked to the basket on the counter where they kept the mail. “Gus received mail, so I’m going to take it to him. I noticed the postmark is from Indianapolis, but there isn’t a return address.”
Lizzie cackled. “Who would write to that old grump?”
Esther chose not to tell Lizzie her teeth were protruding like a beaver’s right now. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe his dochder, the one who never showed up,” Naomi said as she moved her food around on her plate. She hadn’t eaten much either.
“We may never know.” Esther wished everyone a good day and started across the worn path to the cottage, waving to Mary who was sweeping the porch at the daadi haus. She and John kept to themselves. A sweet couple, but Esther sensed there was trouble in paradise over their inability to conceive a child. Several times she’d seen Mary on the front porch crying, but if Esther moved in her direction, Mary would slip inside. That was enough indication for Esther that the young woman didn’t want to talk about whatever was ailing her. Esther had always thought Mary and Naomi might form a close relationship since they were close to the same age. But Mary and John hadn’t been here long, and Mary and Naomi were in very different places in their lives. Each woman seemed detached for dissimilar reasons.
As she neared Gus’s cabin, Esther couldn’t believe what she was about to do. It was going to take everything she had to make the request.
Gus answered the door right after she knocked. “Is it pie time?”
Their grumpy renter was allowing himself to fall back into disarray with his matted hair, sloppy unkept beard, and clothes that smelled like they belonged in the hamper.
“Nee. It is not pie time.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I, um . . . need a favor from you.” Cringing, Esther held her breath. Would Gus help her?
“Well, well, well . . . A favor, you say?” He rubbed his chin, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Esther sighed. “Ya, a favor.” I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Eight
Esther’s chest tightened as she waited for Gus’s response.
Still rubbing his chin, he said, “So, you want me to drive you to the doctor? Why not hire one of those drivers like you usually do?”
“Because people talk, especially the Englisch drivers who know everyone’s business. I don’t want anyone to know, especially Lizzie. I would like to know what is wrong before I tell her.”
Gus shook his head. “I don’t know.” Shifting his weight to one side, he squinted, drawing his bushy gray eyebrows into a frown. “Once you get yourself fixed, then tell Lizzie, my pie will stop coming.”
Esther threw her hands up in disgust “Would you rather I just stay sick? Even if you don’t take me, I’ll find a way to the doctor and tell Lizzie. Can you do this for me on Monday or not?” The thought of riding in Gus’s rusty black truck, complete with obnoxious bumper stickers, caused Esther to feel sick. What if she vomited being in an enclosed vehicle with him? If he smelled anything like he did now, it was possible.
“Will my pie keep coming or not?”
Esther wanted to smack him, even though it went against everything she believed. “I promised to bring you pie in exchange for not mentioning my medical condition to anyone. Once I see a doctor, I will have to tell Lizzie what is wrong. So, no more daily pie after that. That was our agreement. Besides, I already bring you the occasional hot meal and desserts.”
His water-balloon jowls jiggled as he shook his head. “I’m amending the agreement. I’d like pie every day from now on, and I’ll happily take you to the doctor.”
“What if I have follow-up appointments?” Esther despised having to negotiate with this man.
Gus nodded. “I’ll agree to that. Unlimited rides to the doctor, and you keep the pie coming for the rest of my life.”
Esther clenched her fists at her sides. “How is it, Gus, that you get people to commit to things for the rest of your life? How in the world did you manipulate our mudder into letting you live here for the rest of your life?” She stopped, reminding herself she needed the ride to Bedford. It was forty miles one way, too far for a horse and buggy.
Gus’s expression fell into a look that was almost sorrowful. “I guess if your mother wanted you to know that information, she would have told you.”
Esther and Lizzie had asked many times before their mother passed, but she would only repeat that he needed a place to live, adding that he paid the rent and didn’t cause trouble. The latter was debatable.
Lizzie and Esther had often wondered if Gus was keeping a secret about—or for—their mother, but there couldn’t have been a kinder or more honest woman than Regina Yoder. Maybe Mamm had simply been pushed to rent the cottage to Gus the same way Esther found herself agreeing to a lifetime supply of pie.
She quivered just thinking about it—the ride with Gus to the doctor.
“Just keep the pie coming, and I’m at your beck and call.” He waved his arm across his enlarged belly as he faked a bow.
Esther nodded and left. She prayed hard that whatever was wrong with her could be easily—and painlessly—cured.
* * *
Naomi had just finished changing the sheets in Anna Mae’s bedroom upstairs when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She edged closer to the window. Every time Amos swung the ax and split the wood, his muscles rippled beneath his blue long-sleeve shirt.
She didn’t have any tears left for Thomas, but even someone as nice looking as Amos couldn’t distract her for long. Despite her tear ducts having dried up, her heart remained broken.
After she finished making the bed, she glanced around the room to make sure everything was in order for when Anna Mae returned later. She was spending time with family again today. Deciding the room was fine, she checked the other guest rooms before she headed downstairs to the kitchen. She had two pies in the oven that should be done.
Amos was leaning against the counter guzzling a glass of water when she walked in. He ran a sleeve across his sweaty forehead.
“It’s in the fifties out there, but I still managed to work up a sweat.”
Naomi pulled open the oven door. The pies needed a few more minutes. “Chopping wood is hard work,” she said as she closed the door.
“Have you ever split wood?” He grinned, which caused her to do the same.
“As a matter of fact, I have.” She boldly met his gaze, challenging him to question her further.
“I’m impressed.” He set the glass on the counter, winked at her, and went back outside, leaving her to ponder the gesture.
She walked to the window, wishing she hadn’t since he looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. Stepping sideways out of view, she felt the flush working its way up her neck and filling her face. She hoped no one walked into the kitchen right then as she moved to the dining room to set the table for supper.
As she took out the moss rose china, she paused to eye the large oak table. Naomi loved everything about this room, from the big hutch that stored dishes and serving bowls, to the high-back chairs with white cushions on the seats. She set the dishes on the table, then gathered a stack of white lace doilies Esther had crocheted decades ago and began setting them out for their guests.
The dining room walls were painted a light shade of tan and met with wood floors of almost the same color. With so much white on the chairs and table, a simple elegance allowed the place settings to shine on their own with little fanfare. Naomi’s favorite piece of furniture in the entire house was the grandfather clock in the corner. The lone window in the room permitted just enough light to make the atmosphere feel almost romantic, but still f
ormal in a cozy sort of way. She wondered if she’d still be serving guests in this house when she was as old as Esther and Lizzie.
She glanced at the grandfather clock and saw that it was almost four. Remembering the pies, she shuffled back to the kitchen, pulled them both out, and set them on cooling racks. She turned off the oven, but placed the pork tenderloin, mashed potatoes, and glazed carrots inside to stay warm.
Everything was ready, so she sat on one of the kitchen chairs to think about Amos’s wink. Was he just a charming guy? Or testing her resolve to see if she really was emotionally unavailable? Or just being a flirt for the fun of it?
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard tires crunching against gravel. Their guests had arrived. Naomi crossed through the living room to the front door and waited to greet them. Esther and Lizzie emerged from their bedrooms at the same time. The sisters almost always took a late-afternoon nap.
“Oops.” Lizzie stopped and flashed a toothless grin. She went back in her room and returned with her teeth in her mouth—and in place for once.
“Welcome to The Peony Inn,” Esther said as she held open the door for the woman and her two daughters. One of the girls was young, maybe twelve or thirteen. The other looked to be in her early twenties. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a flawless ivory complexion, as if she’d never seen a day in the sun. Naomi was envious right away. Her twenty-five-year-old skin was already showing the lines of time feathering from her eyes. She wondered if this was the type of woman Thomas had gone after.
Esther ushered the guests upstairs, and Naomi inspected the dining room a final time. Some bed-and-breakfast hostesses never joined the guests for meals, while others sometimes did. Esther usually waited for their guests to extend an invitation, as Anna Mae had. Esther enjoyed chatting with folks from other places, and the English seemed to enjoy conversations with Esther and Naomi. And sometimes with Lizzie, depending on her mood.
Lizzie didn’t wait for an invitation and had decided they would all dine together this evening. She’d told Naomi to set out eight place settings. While Naomi went back to the kitchen to begin taking the food from the oven, Lizzie had apparently placed nametags on the plates for everyone. Amos’s delegated spot was next to Naomi. She was tempted to switch the nametags around when Lizzie wasn’t looking, just to spite her, but no sooner did she have the thought than Amos walked into the room.
Lizzie poured a glass of iced tea and handed it to him after he sat down.
“Danki.” He took a drink right away, and after he’d set the glass down, Lizzie squeezed the top of his arm.
“Construction work must keep you strong.” Lizzie dropped her hand and grinned at Naomi. “Muscular fellow, ya?”
Here we go. Naomi glanced at Amos, who grinned. Lizzie turned to the window, and Naomi mouthed I told you so to Amos before excusing herself to the restroom.
When she returned, Anna Mae had joined them along with Esther and the new guests. Everyone was present and seated, except for Esther who was filling tea glasses. Lizzie’s lips were thinned with displeasure. Naomi started toward her seat next to Amos, but the blonde woman was sitting in her place. Did Amos make the switch so he could sit by their new guest? Or did the beautiful blonde do it?
Naomi smiled, doing her best not to look affected by the change. As they bowed in prayer, she couldn’t stop wondering who made the swap, then reminded herself it shouldn’t matter.
After the prayer, Esther introduced everyone to the new guests.
“This pork is delicious.” Catherine, the blonde, had her pinky extended as she held her fork. She wasn’t like most Amish women Naomi knew. Even the younger daughter sat tall, poised, and with her little finger held at an elegant angle.
“Naomi is a very gut cook,” Esther said. “We are lucky to have her.”
“Ach, I didn’t realize you were an employee, Naomi. I thought maybe you were one of these ladies’ grossdochder.” She batted her eyes as she turned to Amos. “Do you work here also?”
Amos smiled, nodding, since he had just taken a bite of bread. After swallowing he said, “Ya, I’ll be working here for a while. I live in Ohio, but I’m staying here for a bit to work.”
Catherine smiled as she continued batting her eyes at Amos. “What type of work do you do?”
“I own a construction company.” Amos held her gaze, and he was still holding it when Anna Mae spoke up a few seconds later.
“A very successful company.” Amos’s mother dabbed her mouth with her napkin, then shook her head. “He was engaged to a lovely woman who passed on before they were able to get married.”
If Amos had been right about his mother also playing matchmaker between him and Naomi, she appeared to have jumped sides.
Catherine put her hand on Amos’s arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Danki,” he said before turning to his mother and shooting a much-deserved dirty look. That wasn’t suppertime conversation, nor should Anna Mae have offered up the information to strangers, in Naomi’s opinion.
Naomi forked a bite of meat and was chewing when Catherine asked, “Naomi, how long have you worked as a cook? Are you a housekeeper here too?”
Naomi couldn’t answer due to her mouthful of food, so she turned to Lizzie, whose expression was so taut she looked like steam might rise from her head at any moment.
“Naomi isn’t a cook and she isn’t a housekeeper.” Lizzie smiled, teeth in place, but it wasn’t her regular smile, and Naomi feared what might be coming. “So don’t be getting all—”
“Naomi is like family to us.” Esther cleared her throat. “That’s what Lizzie was trying to say.” She glared at her sister, but Catherine took the opportunity to ogle Amos. Again.
“Naomi, thank you for another fine meal.” Amos wiped his mouth and stood. “And, ladies, it was gut to meet you all. Gott’s blessings for safe travels.” He left abruptly, and Naomi heard the front door shut behind him.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, even to herself, the urge to run after him was strong. But she couldn’t be rude, and she needed to clean the kitchen after everyone was done eating.
It was almost dark before she escaped the house and found Amos sitting on the bench by the lake. She was thankful it was hidden from view. Catherine surely would have found her way here otherwise.
Naomi sat down beside him. “Are you okay?”
“Ya.” His eyes were straight ahead as the sun slowly lowered into the stalks of dark green corn on the other side of the pond. “I just hate it when Mamm does that.” He turned to Naomi. “She always brings up Sarah any time I meet an attractive woman. She has a prepared dialogue to gain sympathy. I don’t want or need that.”
Naomi lowered her gaze. “Catherine is very beautiful.” She slowly lifted her eyes to his.
“Not my type.” He shook his head. “I think the word Lizzie was probably about to blurt out before Esther stopped her was uppity.”
Naomi chuckled. “I think so too.”
They were quiet for what seemed like a long while.
“I-I can go . . . if you want to be alone. I just came to check on you.” She folded her hands in her lap to keep herself from nervously tucking hair behind her ears, which she’d probably done five times since she sat down. Amos had guessed correctly the night before. He did make her nervous.
“Nee, stay.” He turned to her, revealing a somber expression. Then his eyes drifted back to the sunset. “We will never have this day again.”
“What?” The comment was a little jarring and out of the blue.
He turned back to her, the serious expression still present. “Think about it. This day, this minute, this second . . . We’ll never have it back again. How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
He took off his straw hat and placed it in his lap, then ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “So you’ve lived roughly around nine thousand days.”
Keeping her eyes fused with his, she laughed a little. “I don’t know how
you figured that in your head so quickly, but ya, I guess so.”
He smiled. “It’s weird that I think about things like that, ya?”
“I don’t think it’s weird at all. It’s about making each day count.”
“Right.” He faced straight ahead again as the crickets broke out in song and the sun continued its surrender to the moon. “And I don’t think about it just because of Sarah’s death. I’ve always recognized the fact that what we do with our time matters.”
Naomi had no idea where he was going with this, but somehow, she understood. Whether it had anything to do with Sarah’s death or not, life was short, and it was meant to be lived. “I haven’t been making each day count. I don’t feel like I’ve really been living at all since Thomas left.”
He abruptly faced her, then studied her for a few seconds. “We should change that.”
Naomi tensed. What was he suggesting?
“We both like to paint. We should paint.” He pointed to the ground. “We should meet here in the evenings, much earlier than now, of course, when it’s fully daylight, and we should paint.”
He’d already said that you could tell a lot about a person by what and how they painted. Did he want to get to know her better? She was one step ahead of him. He just didn’t know it yet. But he would see and understand soon enough.
“It’s completely dark by about eight forty-five. We could plan to meet at six,” she offered. “That would give me time to clean up the kitchen, gather supplies, and we could still attend devotions with everyone before we painted.”
He gently popped his hand against his head. “Supplies. I didn’t think about that.”
“I have plenty of blank canvases, brushes, and paint in the basement.”
“If you’ll show me where, I can round it all up while you clear the dishes.”
She felt a warm glow flow through her at the thought of painting again. She closed her eyes and inhaled a long breath of the fresh air. “Oh, how I’ve missed painting.” Smiling, she opened her eyes and stared into his. “This will give me something to look forward to.”
