by Amy Lillard
“I’m glad you asked me to ride home with you,” she said. She wanted to scoot a little closer to him, but she didn’t. She was alone with a man for the first time in her life and she didn’t want him to think badly of her for not behaving like she should.
“I’m glad you said yes.” He said his words without taking his eyes from the road. She knew because she had watched him the entire time. She supposed she should be thankful that he was being so careful.
“I’ve never ridden home with a boy before.” Why was she telling him these things? Because she wanted him to know how special this was to her, but surely he had to know.
“I’ve never taken a girl home before,” he admitted.
They rode along with a silence between them. Around them, the horse’s hooves clopped against the hard surface of the road. The carriage creaked on its springs, and a few nighttime creatures called to one another.
Were Rose and Susannah right when they had told her that this was the first step in courting? What if he just wanted to offer her a ride home?
Why is it that he can’t just want to be with you?
Maybe he could.
The thought warmed her from the inside out.
He cleared his throat. “This is the first time I’ve driven the buggy by myself.”
“Really?” she asked. “Why? I learned to drive when I was ten.”
He nodded. “That was before your accident, jah?”
“Jah.” He didn’t need to say anything else. She knew what he meant. She had learned to drive because there was a time where she was as normal as the next person, but that had changed. And since then . . .
“My mamm hasn’t let me drive since the accident. Not alone anyway.”
“I understand.”
But she wasn’t sure she did. How come she couldn’t drive? Yes, her brain was weakened, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t keep control of one horse. There had been a lot of things that she did before that she wasn’t allowed to do now. Driving was only one of them.
“Why did you ask to take me home, Buddy Ivan Miller?” she asked.
He shrugged one shoulder. “I wanted to.”
“You wanted to take me home or you wanted to ask?”
“Both.” He laughed, and she liked the sound. It was like pure joy.
She waited for him to continue.
“I like you.” The words were so quietly spoken that at first she missed them. Had they been on a tractor, she wouldn’t have heard them at all.
“You like me?”
“Jah.” He was holding himself so stiffly she thought a strong wind might break him in half.
“I like you too.”
He almost slumped right there in his seat. “You do?”
It was her turn to laugh. “Of course. You’re sweet and funny.”
“I am?” He sat up with pride.
“Jah.”
“I think you’re pretty. And you’re sweet and funny too.”
“Thank you.” There it was again. He said she was pretty without talking about how it was a shame that she had a weakened brain. “You don’t care that my brain is weak?” she asked.
He drew back. “Your brain isn’t weak. It works just fine as far as I can tell.”
“You think so really?”
He nodded. “I do. Maybe everybody else’s brain just works too much.”
“Maybe,” she mused, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. He didn’t think her brain was weak.
They rode along for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of being together.
“Everyone says I’m special,” Buddy finally said.
She pulled away so she could better see him. “You are special.”
His face crumpled into a frown. “I am not. Don’t say that.”
“But—” she sputtered. “You are the only boy I’ve ever met who can see past my accident and what it did to me. That’s special in my book.”
“They don’t mean it that way,” he said. “To them it means that I won’t ever get married or have children. That I can’t take care of another person or a family. Not like an Amish man should be able to.”
She paused for a moment, thinking about those words and what they meant; the Amish men she had known in her life and the jobs they did to support their families with both money and kindness. “I don’t believe that,” she finally said. “You’re one of the greatest Amish men I’ve ever met.” And she meant it. Buddy was honest. He was hardworking, kind, and loved God. What more could a wife and a family want or need?
“You’re going to make me cry.” He sniffed.
“Don’t.” She patted his arm.
“Because it’s not manly?”
She shook her head. “Because I don’t want you to be sad.”
He wiped his arm across his eyes and smiled at her. “I’m not sad. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Now he was going to make her cry. “Well, I meant it. Every word.”
* * *
Buddy couldn’t believe it. It had to all be part of God’s plan. He had brought Jenna to Wells Landing so they both could have a life full and worthy. They didn’t have to worry about having a weak brain or being special. They were meant for each other. God’s plan.
“I’m glad I met you, Jennifer Abigail Burkhart.”
“I’m glad I met you too.”
It had been such a pleasant trip home, such a joy to ride next to her and talk about their feelings, that Buddy hated when he saw her family’s mailbox up ahead. If only they had a little more time to talk, to be together. Maybe this was why after taking a girl home from a singing that they started dating. He wanted to spend more time with her. All his time with her. He wanted to know all about her life before she had met him, and he wanted to tell her all about his. Share every detail so it was like they had known each other from birth instead of just met a couple of weeks ago.
“That’s my house.” Jenna pointed to the turnoff ahead.
“Jah.” Buddy cleared his throat. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
He pulled the horse to a stop, made sure she wasn’t going anywhere, then turned to Jenna. “Stay right there. I’m coming around to help you down.”
She nodded and did as he instructed. He was glad about that. It was another of the tips that Jonathan had told him about dating. He wasn’t sure if Jonathan really knew the truth or not since he himself had never dated a girl, but it sounded like a good idea anyway, so Buddy had decided to use it.
He came around the front of the horse and looped the reins over the hitching post, then he reached a hand out to Jenna.
She hopped lightly to the ground and together they walked to the front porch. He liked the feel of her beside him. She was tall for a girl, almost as tall as him, but she was thin and wispy, and it made him feel strong to walk beside her. He wanted to hold her hand as they climbed the steps, but he didn’t think it was time for that. How did a guy know? Jonathan hadn’t said anything about this part. Instead, Buddy allowed Jenna to go up the steps first and he followed behind.
She stopped at the door and turned to face him. This was the part they had talked about. This was the part where Jonathan said he should kiss her, but not this date. After many more.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked.
If he went inside he would get to talk to her mamm and maybe even her mammi. He could state his intentions, let them know how much Jenna meant to him. “Jah, please.”
She smiled and went to open the door, but the knob was wrenched from her hand as someone pulled the door open from the other side.
“Jenna Gail.” Her mamm gasped. “What are you doing out here on the porch?”
With a boy wasn’t said out loud, but Buddy heard it. She hadn’t said the words, but they were still there.
“Talking to Buddy.” Jenna moved to go into the house, and her mamm shifted to one side to allow her room but then stepped back into the middle of the opening once Jenna had passed. B
uddy was blocked. Stuck on the porch.
“And what is Buddy doing out here?” Her mamm’s voice was quiet, kind of smooth, as if she was trying extra hard not to yell. But what about? He’d gotten Jenna home safely.
He smiled, proud of that accomplishment. Jonathan had told him that he could do it and he had! “I brought Jenna home from the singing.”
Her mamm’s eyes widened. She looked from Buddy past him to the drive where his horse and carriage waited. “Alone? You brought my daughter home by yourself?”
“I did.”
“Mamm.” Jenna’s voice held a pleading note.
“Hush, Jenna Gail.” Charlotte turned her full attention back to Buddy. “Thank you, but this shouldn’t happen again. Jenna went to the singing with the bishop’s girls and they should be the ones to bring her home.”
“I don’t mind,” Buddy said.
“I do,” she returned.
“Mamm!” Jenna screeched from behind her mother.
“Hush, Jenna Gail.”
“But—” Buddy stammered. This wasn’t going anything like he had planned, and certainly nothing like Jonathan had prepared him for. What else had Jonathan said about asking a girl’s family to date her? He raised his hand to pound his head, then realized what he was doing and pulled his hair instead. “I come from a good family. You’ve met them.”
Charlotte shook her head. Her mouth had taken on a pinched look. Otherwise it was like talking to an older version of Jenna. “This is not about family. Jenna Gail is . . .”
Please don’t say special. Please don’t say special.
“Jenna Gail is not ready to have boys bring her home from singings.”
“I’m twenty years old,” Jenna protested. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her.
“Age has nothing to do with this. It’s how grown-up you are here.” She tapped one finger against her temple. “And neither one of you are grown-up enough there to be participating in such endeavors.”
It took him a minute to figure out what she was saying, then it hit him like an unexpected bale of hay flying down from the hayloft. “You don’t want us to be together?”
“There is no us in this. You and Jenna Gail need to stay away from each other.”
“But I want to date her. I know what it means to ask a girl on a date, and I’m that serious.”
Charlotte’s lips pressed together so tightly that he couldn’t see them anymore. Just a line where her mouth had been. “I know what it means too, young man. So you just hop back into your buggy and leave my Jenna Gail alone.”
Chapter Seven
“I didn’t even get to say good-bye to her,” Buddy said to Jonathan later that evening. Aaron was still out, so Buddy had come into their room to see if he could figure out what went wrong. Everything had been going great with Jenna. Better than he could have hoped for—and then her mother.
“Sorry, Buddy. Some parents are like that.”
“Do you know anyone that it’s happened to?” Buddy asked.
“Well, no,” Jonathan admitted. “But I’m sure it’s happened before. Some parents don’t think their children are ready to date when they reach that age.”
“I’m nineteen. She’s twenty. It’s not like we’re babies.” But even as he said those words, the thought was taking form in his head. “It’s me, isn’t it? Charlotte doesn’t want her dating me because I have Down syndrome.” How unfair was that?
“Surely that’s not it.”
“I bet it is,” Buddy said glumly. “And stop calling me Shirley.”
Jonathan laughed. “At least you can still joke.”
“I want to take Jenna on a date. She likes me. She told me so.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Jah. And I like her and we’re like each other. I don’t understand why her mother would tell me to stay away from her.”
“Some people just don’t understand true love,” Jonathan said in a dreamy voice.
“True love?” He liked the idea. Jenna Burkhart was his true love. It had a nice ring to it. Now if he could figure out how to get her mother to allow him to take her on a date.
* * *
“Are you going to sulk all day?” Mamm asked shortly after lunch.
“I’m not sulking,” Jenna mumbled in return. It was Monday. The day after Mamm had told her and Buddy that they couldn’t date. How did she expect her to act?
“Jenna Gail,” her mother gently started. “You know I love you. But you’re not ready for a step like that. You might not ever be.”
Jenna picked up the laundry basket full of wet clothes and headed for the door.
“Jenna Gail,” her mother called. Jenna stopped at the door but didn’t turn around. “You understand.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. Once again her mother was telling her how to feel.
She dropped the basket on the floor with a loud plop. “No, Mamm. I don’t understand. I don’t understand what’s wrong with Buddy, I don’t understand when you say I’m not ready, and I really don’t understand why you think you know all my feelings. I’m the only one who knows that.”
Her mother looked shocked. Her mouth hung open and her eyes didn’t blink. “Jennifer Abigail, you will not raise your voice to me in this house.”
Jenna hadn’t meant to get loud, but she was just so frustrated. “I’m sorry, Mamm.” And she was, but . . .
“Tonight after supper, you will be responsible for all the cleanup.”
“Yes, Mamm.” That was okay; she did most of that work each night.
“And you will not be allowed to go to quilting circle tomorrow.”
No quilting circle? That was a terrible punishment. If there was one thing Jenna loved, it was to quilt. She loved making the tiny little stitches, the hidden pattern in the blanket meant to warm. And she especially loved that the quilts they made at the quilting circle were donated to the Clarita School Auction each year. And to not be allowed to go . . . that was something close to torture. “That’s mean.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. And once they were said, there was no taking them back. Jenna stubbornly lifted her chin and waited for her mother to take a second week of quilting from her.
But it didn’t come.
“So be it,” her mother said and turned her attention back to the laundry.
* * *
Buddy waited until no one was around, then he went to the barn and started the tractor. It was the old one, the extra one they used for travel to and from town. His parents had taken Prudy somewhere on the new one. Aaron was off visiting somewhere, and Jonathan had promised Buddy that he wouldn’t tell. So Buddy had a plan. He would drive the tractor to Jenna’s house and talk to her mamm. Maybe in the light of day things would be better. Plus it had been two days. Maybe she’d had time to cool down. That meant not be so angry. Aaron had taught him that one. Buddy had written it in his notebook so he wouldn’t forget.
Except he had never driven the tractor by himself as far as it was to Jenna’s house. But how hard could it be? How different was driving the tractor on the road instead of the field? No different, except he would be on the road and not plowing. He was nineteen. Plenty old enough to drive to a girl’s house by himself. A woman’s house, he silently corrected. And that’s exactly what he planned to do.
“Don’t forget to stay to the right,” Jonathan reminded him.
“Jah. I know,” Buddy said. “Just like a buggy.”
“That’s right. And when a car comes up behind you—”
“Pull over to let them pass. Even in a tractor,” Buddy finished.
Jonathan nodded. “You’ve got this.”
“Jah,” Buddy said. “I’ve got this.”
He smiled a little to himself as he chugged down the road. Once he got there and convinced Charlotte to allow him and Jenna to date, he would drive back home. And that would prove how grown-up he was to his mamm and dat. Perfect.
In no time at all he was pulling down the drive that led to Jenna’s house. Traveling by
tractor was much quicker than going by horse and buggy. Another good reason to prove to his parents that he could handle the responsibility of driving the tractor off the field.
He pulled the tractor to a stop, then double checked the brake before heading up the porch steps and knocking on the door.
Shuffling sounds drifted from the house along with approaching footsteps, then finally the door was opened. Jenna stood in the doorway looking even prettier than she had Sunday night.
“Buddy? What are you doing here?”
His brilliant plan somehow slipped his mind and he stood there floundering for words. “I—I uh, came to see you.” He cleared his throat, and when she didn’t say anything he continued. “I wanted to talk to your mamm and explain to her.”
She glanced backwards as if the answers were sneaking up behind her. “She’s not here.”
Buddy tried to hide his disappointment. How was he going to talk to Jenna’s mamm if she wasn’t at home?
“She’ll be back before supper,” Jenna said. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to wait.”
“Is she still mad?” He was hoping she had calmed down a bit.
Jenna nodded. “Jah. A little. A lot, really.”
Another piece that wasn’t part of his plan.
“Maybe I should go.”
She let herself out of the house, closing the door behind her. “We could sit on the porch swing for a bit.”
“Jah, okay.”
She made her way to the end of the porch and sat down on the swing. She held it still with her feet as he settled in next to her.
“I like this swing,” Buddy said after a few moments of gently pushing themselves back and forth.
“We had one on our porch in Yoder.”
“At your old house?”
“Jah.”
“Do you miss it?”
She hesitated so long he thought she might not answer at all. “Sometimes. It was where I grew up.”
