The Amish Quiltmaker's Unruly In-Law

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Wally’s eyes narrowed to slits. “It wonders me why we wanted you to come anyway.” He put his arm around Zoe, and they took a few steps toward the truck. “Have a good time,” he said over his shoulder. “Oh, wait. You’re playing volleyball. It’s impossible to have a good time.”

  Ben followed Wally, Zoe, and Mack toward the truck, resisting the urge to glance back at Linda. He simply didn’t care what she was thinking or how she looked.

  Linda must have run out of self-control. Her outburst of loud and unapologetic laughter made them all turn around.

  “What’s so funny?” Wally hissed.

  Linda pointed at Mack. “Your pants,” was all she said.

  Ben felt his face get warm. Mack liked to wear his pants loose, with the waistband down below his hips and his underwear in full view. With the crotch of his jeans almost to his knees, it looked like he’d have a hard time running a race. Or kneeling down. Or bending over.

  Ben knew enough to be embarrassed, but it didn’t seem to bother Mack. He smiled. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

  “Pretty sweet,” Linda said. Was she laughing with Mack or at him?

  And why did Ben have the sneaking suspicion that Mack wasn’t the only one she was laughing at?

  Chapter Twelve

  Linda dragged her feet across Esther and Levi’s front lawn, even though she had promised herself she wasn’t going to sulk.

  She wasn’t one to wallow, not in self-pity, not in regret, not in a broken heart. There was nothing wrong with her that couldn’t be fixed with a little determination and a heavy dose of practicality. And being practical meant no wallowing. Linda had no sympathy for sentiment, not even her own. It was silly to spend one more minute of regret on a boy who was determined to ruin his life.

  Why waste time helping someone who didn’t want your help? Why waste time with a boy who was never going to change, didn’t want to change, and hated you for suggesting he could change?

  There were lots of other fish in the sea—Freeman Sensenig for one, who had asked to drive her home from the last gathering. She hadn’t especially wanted to ride home with Freeman, but after watching Ben get into that truck with Raccoon Girl and the boy who couldn’t keep his pants up, she’d sort of snapped. Freeman had asked, and in a moment of insanity and pique, she’d said yes.

  Ach, she was going to have to break up with Freeman, and they weren’t even a couple.

  Cathy followed Linda to the porch. “I’m not going to be much use today. I have a bunion that’s been giving me trouble, so standing on my feet for this apricot thing is going to be impossible.”

  Cathy kept calling it “this apricot thing.” Esther had invited Cathy and Linda over to can the apricots she’d picked from the tree in her backyard, which seemed like a complete waste of time. Who ate canned apricots? They were slimy and mushy. Better to make four-dozen apricot pies and be done with it. “Thank you for driving me, Cathy. It’s called a frolic, and you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

  “Of course I have to stay. How else will I hear the gossip about you and Ben?”

  Linda pressed her lips together in a hard line and reluctantly knocked on the door. Cathy might not have a gall bladder, but she had gute instincts. Linda suspected that Esther hadn’t invited her to a canning frolic because she needed help with her apricots. Linda had been invited because Esther wanted to talk about Ben, and Linda would rather eat a whole quart of apricots than relive that horrible and unnecessary part of her life. “There’s nothing to tell, Cathy. He’s not interested in me or anything I might have to say to him.”

  “Nonsense. He looks at you like your teeth are made of diamonds. Or, I guess Amish people don’t care about diamonds. He looks at you like your teeth are made of whoopee pies.” She frowned. “That doesn’t really make much sense, but you know what I mean.”

  Esther opened the door, threw her hands in the air, and squealed in delight as if she hadn’t seen Linda or Cathy for years. The bodice of her apron was lined with at least ten colorful fabric clips, and a magnetic lid lifter was tucked behind her ear.

  Linda grinned. “You look like you’re ready to can and quilt.”

  “Of course,” Esther said. “Around here, I have to be ready for anything.” She pulled the lid lifter from her ear. “I found this in the bottom drawer this morning. I didn’t want to forget where it was.”

  “What is it?” Cathy said. “I’m more of a quilter than a canner.”

  Esther handed it to Cathy. “It has a magnet on the end so you can get canning lids out of the hot water after you sanitize them. It saves your skin from getting scalded.”

  Cathy gave the lid lifter back to Esther. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to help with the canning. I’m just here to gossip.”

  Esther’s eyes flashed with amusement, and she glanced at Linda. “Gossiping is half the fun of a frolic.”

  “It’s a sin to gossip,” Linda murmured. She definitely did not want to be here.

  Cathy nodded. “Then we won’t gossip. Heaven knows, I’ve got enough sins to answer for, especially for that lost month in Las Vegas.”

  “Las Vegas?” Esther said.

  Cathy stepped into Esther’s house. “I was young and stupid, and it was more than fifteen years ago. I’m over it.”

  “So you were what, sixty-eight?” Linda asked.

  “Yes,” Cathy said. “That has to be my excuse.”

  Cathy was in her eighties, but she still didn’t consider herself old. Linda wanted to be just like her, except not quite so grumpy. But without Ben, Linda didn’t see how her life could be anything but miserable. Linda cleared her throat, pasted a smile on her face, and resolved to never think of Ben Kiem again. She was too practical to let this nonsense with Ben turn her into a sticky puddle of apricot jelly. She was already over him. Over and done.

  “Where’s Winnie?” Linda asked.

  “She’s taking a nap. Lord willing, she’ll sleep until we finish.”

  They went into Esther’s kitchen where three bushels of apricots sat on the table. Esther plucked an apricot out of the basket and took a bite. “Levi helped me pick yesterday. Cathy, what if Linda washes them and you can cut out the pits and put the fruit in bottles while you sit at the table?”

  “Okay,” said Cathy, “but if I get tired, I’ll just sit here and watch the two of you work.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Linda ran water over each apricot and put them in a bowl at the table for Cathy. Cathy picked up the first apricot and studied it. “Do these need to be peeled?”

  “No,” Esther said. “Their peels are thin enough. We’re going to bottle some and make the rest into apricot jelly. Won’t that be nice?”

  Cathy scrunched her lips together. “I don’t approve of jelly as a general rule. Do you have a sugar-free recipe?”

  Esther shook her head. “It’s terrible without sugar. Sorry.”

  “If you want to kill your husband with diabetes, apricot jelly is the way to do it. Of course, I don’t think you should want to kill your husband at all, but that’s just my opinion.”

  Esther smiled playfully. “I agree with that.”

  Esther washed bottles then set them upside-down in a pan of shallow water boiling on the stove. Once the bottles were sterilized, she put them on the table for Cathy to fill. Linda didn’t know why she was surprised at how fast Cathy could fill a quart jar with fruit. Cathy had many talents and skills. At that age, you knew how to do a whole lot of stuff.

  Once all the apricots were washed, Linda heated up a concoction of water and sugar and poured it into Cathy’s full bottles. Then Esther used her magnetic lid lifter to transport a lid from the boiling water onto the jar and screwed it tight with a band. It was an efficient, well-organized process that kept their hands busy and their minds free. The perfect activity if you wanted to visit.

  Which was a bad thing, because Esther wanted to visit. “So, Linda, have you seen Ben lately?”

  Cathy plopped an apricot into
the jar. “The last time I saw him was at the sand dunes. He just up and walked away from Linda. It was the middle of the night. We looked for him for an hour, even though I told Linda if we left him at the dunes all night, it would serve him right. But Linda wanted to look. We never did find him.”

  “Oh, dear,” Esther said. “I’m sure you were upset.”

  “I was irritated,” Linda said. She wouldn’t admit to being upset, and never in a million years would she admit to being devastated, especially not to Ben’s sister-in-law. “It was rude of him to just walk away like that. We spent all that time looking for him.”

  Cathy popped half an apricot in her mouth. “I should have asked him to carry a whistle. We could have followed the sound of his blowing.”

  “Ben didn’t want to be found. For sure and certain he heard us calling his name. He just let us go on calling.” Linda glanced at Esther who was staring at her with a funny look on her face. She shouldn’t have said anything. Surely Esther noticed the way her voice cracked when she said Ben’s name.

  Esther set another quart jar in the boiling water. “So you took him to the sand dunes, and he just walked away from you.”

  “And we couldn’t find him in the dark,” Cathy said. She drew her brows together. “Do you think he’s still out there?”

  “No,” Linda said. “He hitched a ride partway and walked the rest of the way home. I saw him last week at the park. He’s fine.”

  The corners of Cathy’s mouth drooped. “I can’t imagine he’s fine. At the very least, he’s sore from walking home. He probably got a bad case of athlete’s foot for all the trouble he put us through.”

  Esther set two more bottles on the table. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Cathy said.

  “I feel responsible for him. He’s related to me.”

  Cathy was never one to spread sunshine and rainbows if a storm cloud was available. “Kind of unfortunate for you, but I suppose you can’t pick your relatives. Ben is handsome, but handsome will only get you so far when you’re an idiot. And he can sing, but having a good voice and having good sense aren’t the same thing. I’m not sure why Linda still wanted to take him to the sand dunes after he burned down that barn.”

  It felt as if a horse was stomping on Linda’s chest. Was taking Ben to the sand dunes a good decision or the worst one she’d ever made? “It was a shed, not a barn, and we shouldn’t gossip.”

  “We’re not gossiping,” Esther said, her piercing gaze glued to Linda’s face. “We’re sharing, and there’s nothing in the Bible against sharing our news and our feelings.”

  “I’ll tell you how I feel.” Cathy pointed her knife at Linda. “Linda wanted to take him to the sand dunes even after he burned down that garage. And then he ran off, and I hiked all over kingdom come looking for him. I got two mosquito bites and stepped on a frog. I feel betrayed and a little nauseated, but the nausea is mostly from the sound the frog made when I squished him. I don’t know how Linda put up with Ben as long as she did.”

  Watching Linda out of the corner of her eye, Esther set the first full bottle into the hot water bath. “You’re . . . uh . . . you’re not putting up with him anymore?”

  How did she answer such a question?

  I don’t want a boyfriend who sets things on fire.

  I’m devastated, but I don’t want to tell you I’m devastated because being devastated over Ben Kiem is about the dumbest thing a girl could do.

  I’m going back to my practical life where nothing exciting ever happens and where Ben and his charming smile can’t hurt me.

  Linda retrieved a knife and sat down at the table. “Ben doesn’t like hiking as much as he used to.”

  Esther grunted. “He’s more interested in girls who drive red trucks.”

  The pressure on Linda’s chest increased, but she tried not to feel anything. She didn’t care one whit about the girls and the trucks Ben spent time with. “Oh. Have you met Zoe?”

  “Saw her through the window. That girl can’t keep her hands off of Ben, and that tongue . . .” Esther made a face and shuddered, and her gaze flicked in Linda’s direction. “I’m sure you didn’t hear me say that.” She slammed the lid onto the pot. “I just don’t understand it.”

  Linda shrugged. “He’s still in rumschpringe.”

  Esther shook her head. “That’s no excuse for terrible behavior. You’re in rumschpringe, and you’re still capable of being sensible.”

  Cathy nodded. “I told you, just because he’s handsome doesn’t mean he has any good sense.”

  Esther propped her hand on her hip. “He’s started smoking again.”

  “I know.” Linda didn’t want to talk about it anymore. All the progress Ben had made, all the promise he’d shown in trying to improve his life was gone. And Linda refused to mourn for what might have been.

  “Denki for being kind to Ben, even if he didn’t appreciate it.”

  Esther made it sound like Ben had been some sort of charity project. Ben had accused Linda of the same thing, as if she only spent time with him because she wanted to change him. Linda didn’t want to change Ben. She loved him, or used to love him, just as he was. She wanted him to find enough self-respect to change on his own.

  She hadn’t “put up” with Ben. Their first snowshoe trip hadn’t been all pies and cakes, but every outing after that had been sheer pleasure. Ben was kind and attentive and so fun to be with. She cherished every minute they’d spent together, even if the good times were distant memories.

  But she wasn’t going to wallow. What was done was done, and it was time to move on from this silly fascination with Ben Kiem. Maybe it hadn’t even been love. Maybe she’d just been swept up in the excitement of being with someone so unpredictable and different.

  Would telling herself that make it easier to get over him?

  “I never thought of Ben as a project, if that’s what you’re saying.”

  “I never believed Ben was your project,” Esther said.

  “Ben did.” A less practical girl might be less practical about it, but Linda was extremely practical, and she would never, ever again tell a boy she loved him. It made her vulnerable, and practical girls could not afford to be vulnerable.

  Esther opened her mouth and promptly shut it again. “Ach. I see.” She strangled the kitchen towel in her hands. “So do you think you can give him another chance?”

  Linda stared at Esther in disbelief. Another chance? Absolutely not. How could Esther even ask such a thing? The first time had been painful enough. She didn’t want to offend Esther by saying what she really thought of that plan, and she certainly didn’t want Esther to know how the question had upset her. She took a deep breath. When in doubt, always answer a question with another question. “What do you mean by another chance?”

  “Do you think you’ll maybe take him hiking or canoeing again?”

  Cathy saved Linda from having to vehemently refuse to even talk to Ben again. “Why would she do that? I can’t spend my days traipsing all over the country looking for Ben every time he runs off. Until he can act like a civilized human being, Ben isn’t getting in my car.”

  Linda had never been more grateful to have Cathy on her side. She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

  Esther’s frown etched deep lines into her face. She stood quite still for a few seconds then grabbed Linda’s hand. “Linda, I see an apricot Levi missed on the tree out there. Will you come and help me pick it?”

  Oy, anyhow. “Uh. Just one?”

  “Jah. You can hold the ladder for me so I don’t fall.”

  Linda was trying to figure out how to say no when Esther stuffed the ticking kitchen timer in her pocket and pulled Linda out the back door. She led Linda to the side of the house nowhere near the apricot tree, stopped short, and folded her arms. “What did you do?”

  Ach, du lieva. Apricot day had been a wonderful bad idea. “Do when? What do you mean?”

  “You were helping him. He
was doing better.” Esther exploded like a firecracker. “Then you took him to the sand dunes and something changed. What did you do?”

  Linda bit down on her tongue to keep from bursting into tears. Of course, biting down on your tongue made it hard to talk, but it was better to be angry than weepy. “It’s not my fault.”

  “Everyone was upset about the fire. I know it was a terrible thing, but you shouldn’t cut Ben off just because he made a stupid mistake. He trusted you. You should have been a better friend.”

  “You don’t know. And don’t yell at me.”

  Esther held up her hands. “You’re right. I don’t know.” Huffing out a breath, she leaned against the house as if she were trying to push it over. “I’m sorry. I have a very bad temper, and when someone I love gets hurt, I get testy.”

  Linda kept her mouth shut. It was all so unfair.

  Esther pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I shouldn’t make assumptions, but Ben won’t talk to me. It sounds like I’m making excuses for Ben, which I’m not. Setting that fire was a terrible thing, and people were justifiably upset. I just thought you’d be a little more thoughtful with your response.”

  “You don’t know how I responded.”

  “Please, tell me what happened. Did you tell Ben you didn’t want to see him anymore?”

  Linda was tempted to let Esther go on believing that she had been the one to reject Ben. The other way around was so much more humiliating. She folded her arms and looked away. “Is that what you think?”

  “Ben’s been hurt before, when he was younger. I don’t know the details, but Levi says he took it very hard. I don’t know what happened between you, but it’s obvious Ben is extremely upset about it.”

  Linda wasn’t going to embarrass herself by telling Esther everything. “He told me that his dat hates him. I told him that was silly. He doesn’t like it when I call him silly. He thinks he’s a lost cause. We argued about that for quite some time.”