by Amy Lillard
“Charlotte,” his mother exclaimed as she looked at the food they had brought in. “This is too much. You shouldn’t be cooking so much on a Sunday.”
Charlotte waved away his mother’s words. At least he had gotten her name correct. Even if it was only in his thoughts. “I keep this sort of thing in the freezer for Sundays. Keeps a body from having to eat cold cuts on the Lord’s day.”
His mother paused ever so slightly, then nodded her head. “That’s a smart plan.”
Charlotte smiled, and the moment passed. But for a second there, Buddy thought there was about to be an argument.
“Are you sure we can’t go outside?” Prudy asked. She grabbed a grape off the plate his mother was making and popped it into her mouth. If Buddy had done that, his mother would have smacked his hand and shooed him out of the kitchen, but Prudy could get away with almost anything. He supposed that was just one of the perks for being the youngest. A person might think that since he was “special” he would get special treatment to go along with it, but all his life, Buddy had had to work harder to get everything he wanted. That wasn’t special at all.
“We cannot,” Mamm said. “Put this on the table. And don’t drop it.” She handed Prudy the tray of fruit then picked up the meat and cheese and carried it over herself.
Jenna scooted toward Buddy. He knew because he had been thinking about her ever since he had come into the room. “Are we really going to have a picnic inside?” she asked.
Buddy tried not to smile at the fact that she was talking to him. “Not on the floor.”
“Doesn’t a picnic have to be outside?” Jenna asked.
“Only if you think that.”
She mulled that over for a moment, then straightened and nodded. “I suppose.”
But he wasn’t convinced that she was convinced. Only that she wanted to be convinced.
He leaned in closer, doing his best not to take a deep breath so near to her. She smelled so good. Like wildflowers and biscuits. It was enough to make him forget what he was going to say. “Jonah calls it thinking outside the box,” he finally managed.
“Who’s Jonah?”
“My brother.”
She gave a pointed look toward Jonathan.
Buddy shook his head. “He’s not here today. He’s older. Married.” He was kind of glad Jonah wasn’t there. Everybody loved Jonah and if he had been there Buddy was certain that Jenna would only notice him. And Buddy would be out in the cold, as people say.
His mother pinned him with a look. “Come get the plates and set the table.”
“Yes, Mamm.” He started toward the table and his chore, but Jenna was quick and beat him to it.
“I’m supposed to do that,” he told her.
“I just want to help.”
“But that’s my chore.” And he didn’t want someone else doing it for him.
“Buddy. Your guest wants to help,” Mamm said.
Prudy and Jonathan were carting food to the table. Everyone had a job but him. He crossed his arms and tried not to pout. His mother didn’t like when he did that, but he didn’t like losing his chores to his guest.
“Why are you mad?” Prudy asked. “If you really want to do something, take care of my chores.”
“I don’t want to do your chores,” Buddy grumbled.
Prudy shrugged and tossed her covering strings over her shoulders. “Suit yourself.”
His young sister had always been what Dat called a “spirited child.” But she had been especially spirited since she started to school. It had been almost two school years and it seemed to be getting worse. She acted like she was the only one who had ever learned anything. Like she knew more than everyone else. Like she knew more than he did because he was special.
“I went to school too you know.” Buddy tightened his arms across his chest and gave a nod.
“Mamm, Buddy’s being ugly.”
“Dat,” Buddy called. “Prudy’s being a tattletale.”
“And what are you?” Her voice turned extra sassy.
Buddy could feel the heat creep into his face. He had looked at himself one time when he felt this way and his entire face had been bright red. It probably looked like that right now.
“Here.” Jenna thrust the paper plates at him with a shake of her head. “I just wanted to help you.”
Buddy looked at the plates. “You can do it.” He didn’t want to take it away from her if she really wanted to help set the table. It wasn’t about that anymore. It was about Prudy trying to show him up in front of guests. In front of Jenna. And now it had turned into a mess.
He sucked in a deep breath, all too aware that everyone was watching him, wondering what he would do next. Two weeks ago he might have lost his temper completely. But two weeks ago he had never heard of Jenna Burkhart.
“I’m sorry, Prudy,” Buddy said. He felt the tension seep out of his body. Not all of it, but most.
Jonathan and Mamm shared a look. Dat shook his head and seemed like he was grinning. Prudy tossed her kapp strings once again. “You are forgiven.”
“Prudy.” Dat’s voice was low with warning.
“Eli . . .”
Dat held up one hand and waited for Prudy.
“I’m sorry, Buddy.” He could hear the unwillingness in her voice, but she said it.
“Now,” Dat said. And everyone started with their chores again.
Mamm didn’t look happy over the exchange. But she couldn’t be any less happy than Buddy was. He was embarrassed. And in front of Jenna.
She held the plates out to him and he shook his head. “I want you to do it,” he said. Getting upset had been a mistake. He had quickly recovered, but why had he been so stupid?
He wanted to smack himself on the forehead, but he didn’t. It was another feat he was proud of, but he didn’t want to say as much. Not in front of Jenna.
“Come on, everyone,” Dat said. “It’s time to eat.”
* * *
She had only wanted to help.
Jenna stared at her plate and wished she had never come to the Millers’ house. But that thought made her even sadder. If she hadn’t come here then she wouldn’t be sitting at their table, eating a makeshift picnic while the rain lightly sounded off the tin roof.
She wanted to say something. She wanted to apologize. She felt like Buddy was in trouble and it was all her fault. But sorry didn’t seem to be enough.
“Yes, our Jenna Gail,” Mamm said. And Jenna realized that she had slipped so deep into her own thoughts that she hadn’t been paying any attention to what was being talked about around her.
“Hmmm?” She looked up from her plate, not knowing what to say but understanding that she needed to say something.
“I was telling Gertie how much you love to cook.”
Jenna nodded and smiled. She did love to cook. She was always baking something or another. Sometimes she used premade mixes that she found at the grocery store, but her favorite dishes were ones that she found recipes for when she went to the library. The librarian had shown her how to look on the internet and find recipes without getting other information that she really didn’t want. The nice lady had also assured her mother that there were guards on the computer that kept really “questionable” information from showing on the screen. That was good because it meant her mother let her do what she would on the computer without looking over her shoulder. It was that very assurance that was going to allow her to look up Down syndrome when she went back into town. And she would surely have to do that now. She was fairly certain that Buddy wouldn’t want to talk to her about anything after today.
“I love to eat,” Buddy said.
Everyone laughed, and Jenna allowed her gaze to wander in his direction. He was looking at her and smiling.
She gave him a hesitant smile in return. Maybe things would be okay after all.
She did her best not to get her hopes up as she finished up her meal. She felt a little weird that her mamm had made a casserole and a cake
to bring when Buddy’s mamm had more closely followed the Ordnung. Nor had she contradicted her mother on their Sunday habits. Sometimes she had made them casseroles and such for Sunday’s meal, but mostly she did like everyone else and took the day off from cooking and ate easy-to-prepare foods like sandwiches made with peanut butter spread, and crackers with cup cheese. Jenna loved cup cheese.
After the second prayer, Gertie stood and instructed “the kids” to clear the table. Since Jenna was in that group, she started to help, but Jonathan and Buddy shooed her out onto the screened-in porch at the back of the house. There were comfy chairs out there and tables to set things on. There was also a coffee table big enough for board games.
Jenna loved board games. But she didn’t get to play them very often since there were only three in her family. Mammi would play with her a little, but you needed more than two to really play.
She eased down onto one of the chairs. She sat back, then leaned forward and scooted over to one side. It was strange sitting on someone else’s back porch, alone. Maybe she should ignore the instructions of Buddy and his siblings and go in search of the adults. Chances were, they were sitting on the front porch watching the rain. Why should she be back here alone? Or perhaps this was a joke. Maybe the “kids” were teasing her. Maybe everyone else was out front laughing because she was out here all by herself.
That had to be it!
Jenna pushed to her feet, intent on marching through the house until she found everyone. This might be a joke to them, but it sure wasn’t funny to her.
“Where are you going, Jenna?”
She jerked her attention to Buddy. He stood in the doorway that led from the house onto the porch. He had two drinks in his hand and something tucked under one arm.
She stopped, rubbed her hands down the front of her dress, then crossed her arms. “Nowhere.” She tossed her strings behind her shoulders and almost dared him to contradict her.
Buddy smiled, and she felt her defensive stance soften. She wasn’t mad. Not really, but she was sort of cautious about new people. Her mamm and mammi were constantly telling her that she was different and because of that people would try to take advantage of her. According to them, she had a double problem. She was not only simple, she was Amish, and the Englisch people would view her as different enough to take advantage of. They always said Englisch people, but she understood. They meant the Amish people too. But at least with her own kind she only had one thing against her. That she was simple.
She had been waiting all day for something like that to happen. She had wanted to come so badly and now that she was there, she was too worked up to even enjoy herself.
“Wanna play a game?” Buddy asked.
“A game?”
He set the cups on the coffee table, then pulled the flat box from under his arm.
“Candy Land.” He grinned, then the smile failed as his face wrinkled into a frown. “Everyone says it’s a baby game, but I think it’s fun.” He leaned a little closer. “I like the names of all the places.” He waited, and when she didn’t immediately answer, he went on. “And it’s okay to play with two people.”
Jenna finally found her voice. “Prudy doesn’t want to play?”
He shook his head. “Nah, she says it’s for babies.”
“But she’s—”
“Almost eight,” he finished for her. “I would really like it if you played with me, Jenna. No one else will.”
How could she say no? “Okay, Buddy Ivan Dale. I would love to play Candy Land with you.”
Once the words were out of her mouth, he relaxed. She could see his shoulders drop and the tension leave his face. Had he really worried that much that she would tell him no?
He knelt on the floor next to the coffee table and slid the lid off the box. He hummed to himself as he set up the board.
“Buddy?” Her voice was hesitant, though she wished it sounded more confident.
“Jah?” He looked up from the board game. His eyes were brown, not just any brown but a sweet, rusty brown like dark honey.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean . . .” She shook her head, unable to say what she really wanted to say. “I just wanted to help. And now your mamm is angry.”
He motioned for her to kneel on the floor with him. She hesitated, then did as he asked. She sat opposite him and waited for him to say something. “Mamm has six children. She’s always upset about one thing or another.”
His smile was so big and bright that she couldn’t help but return it. “So you’re not mad at me?”
He shrugged. “Which color do you want to be?”
“Yellow,” she said without hesitation. “Unless you want to be yellow. Then I’ll be green.”
“I don’t want to be yellow, Jenna. And even if I did, I wouldn’t mind letting you be yellow if you really wanted to be.”
Why did their discussion over what color they wanted to be warm her heart? She didn’t know why, only that it did. It made her feel all fuzzy and sweet inside. Kind of like a peach.
“What color do you want to be?” she asked.
“Blue.” Like her, he answered without hesitation. “And no,” he continued. “I’m not mad at you. I’m glad you came over.”
“Me too.” Her cheeks were beginning to hurt she had smiled so much today, but it had been the happiest day she’d had in a long time. Even with the mishap over the plates.
Buddy shuffled the cards so they could begin their play. Prudy came in with a book and plopped down on the sofa with her feet dangling off the edge. “I can’t believe you like that baby game too.” She opened her book and stuck her nose inside, obviously not expecting a response.
“It’s not a baby game,” Buddy protested.
She could hear the irritation edging its way into his voice. She reached across the game board and laid her hand on top of his.
He didn’t move away, but his gaze zoomed to hers, those rusty-brown eyes filled with questions.
Jenna gave her head a little shake, then smiled.
Buddy turned his hand so the palm was up, but he didn’t pull away. And they sat there for minutes, maybe even hours, palms pressed together as they looked at each other.
“I like it,” Buddy said. But Jenna wasn’t sure if he was talking about the game or their hands touching. Hopefully it was both.
“What happened to your hair?” Jenna asked. She had noticed it when she first arrived, but she had been upset with Mammi and hadn’t asked about it. Then the plates. She hadn’t wanted to ask over their meal where everyone could hear, but something had happened to it. The very front of it next to his skin was short. Cut down to almost nothing. Not much of it, but enough she had noticed. The sides and back were the color of a hayfield just before harvest. The top was the same color, she supposed, but instead of looking freshly washed, it looked like he had taken lard and clumped it on there, then combed it through. But he didn’t smell like lard. He smelled like . . . baby lotion.
“He got licked by a cow when he was a baby.” Prudy laughed, then turned her attention back to her reading.
“It didn’t look like that the first time I saw you.”
Buddy turned a fine shade of red. “I was trying to get this piece here to lie flat, but it wouldn’t.”
“So you cut it?” she asked.
He nodded.
“After trying to smooth it with baby lotion?”
“Like a girl,” Prudy teased.
“Hush up, Prudy, or I’ll go get Mamm.”
“It’s true,” his sister continued without looking up this time.
“I think it looks . . .” She paused, unable to tell an outright lie but not wanting to hurt his feelings either.
“It looks terrible,” Prudy said.
“Hush, Prudy.” Jenna might have covered her own mouth with her hand had she not been almost holding hands with Buddy. Almost.
“It’s true,” she continued with a shrug.
Buddy leaned into the coffee table, over t
he game board and a little closer to Jenna. “It doesn’t look good,” he admitted. His grin was so charming she couldn’t concentrate on anything but it.
“It’ll grow,” she said. “And baby lotion washes out.”
He nodded and leaned back. Suddenly she missed having him that close. They sat that way for a few moments, just looking at each other, without speaking, without looking away. It felt a little like heaven.
“My hand’s tingling,” she said quietly in hopes that Prudy wouldn’t hear.
“You should move your fingers,” Buddy said. He lifted her hand by the wrist and shook it back and forth. “Need to get the blood back into them.”
“I’m good.” Jenna pulled her hand away before he slung her fingers clean off. She shouldn’t have said anything. She hadn’t meant that her fingers were tingling because they had fallen asleep, but that . . .
Well, she wasn’t sure what she meant. But something seemed to be happening between them. Something a little weird. Not entirely pleasant but definitely not unpleasant in the least. It was confusing, and it confused her. She wanted to grab his hand and place hers on top of it again to see if that same thing would happen a second time. But perhaps it was better that they stop touching. It might give her a chance to figure some of it out. One thing was certain. It wasn’t something she had ever experienced before.
Chapter Six
Buddy stared out the kitchen window, the one over the sink, and thought back to Sunday afternoon.
He never much cared for the rain one way or another, but now, he was pretty sure he loved rainy days. Or maybe he just loved sitting across from Jenna, who didn’t call Candy Land a baby game even though they both knew that it was. Instead she had played with him all afternoon while the rain had fallen outside. It had been the single best afternoon of his entire life. Even beating the time his dat took him fishing in Catoosa.
But there were a few parts of the time they had spent together that confused him. Like when she had put her hand over his. He could have sat that way all afternoon. A person only needed one hand free to play Candy Land. It took a little longer that way, but it could be done. Buddy knew. He had broken his arm a few years back and had been in a cast from the top of his elbow to the knuckles on his hand. It had been a while before he was able to use it again, and that had meant many one-handed games of Candy Land. Not easy, but not impossible. But then her hand had fallen asleep and he’d done his part to get the blood flowing again. Saying that your hand fell asleep didn’t really mean that it had fallen asleep. It had something to do with blood flow. One of his teachers had explained it to him in school after he’d fallen. He’d just gotten up after sitting on his foot and she had helped him and explained that the tingly feeling meant the blood wasn’t right and that he should be careful.
