Love in Unlikely Places

by Linda Byler

  Eva had married a young man two years her junior, not worthy of her, in Emma’s opinion. Not that her opinion mattered after Eva laid eyes on Elvin. Emma and Eva turned into Eva and Elvin, who were married a year later and produced Elijah a year after that.

  The wedding had been saturated with the intertwined E emblem, and of course, Emma was a bridesmaid, seated all day with Eva’s much younger brother who had been less than thrilled to be nāvahucka (best man) with a girl as ancient and unexciting as Emma. She’d been his teacher, for Pete’s sake, he whined to his mother.

  That wedding, Emma cried discreetly into her lace-edged handkerchief when Elvin and Eva stood side-by-side and uttered their quiet vows. They were solemnly pronounced man and wife by the kindly bushy-haired bishop, who blessed them directly after that, and then the happy couple made their way back to their appointed chairs and kept their eyes downcast in the way that was good and proper.

  Eva stole a glance at Emma, saw the reddened nose and the wet eyes, took a deep breath to steady herself, and vowed to stay loyal and true to Emma, to help find her a soulmate if it took every ounce of effort she could muster.

  On this particular Sunday afternoon, Eva made sure there was a fresh jar of iced coffee in the refrigerator, the front porch was swept and scrubbed, the begonias and fiddle ferns watered and fertilized. Emma had a keen eye for these things, and Eva had been known to impress her with her flower growing skills before.

  “Elvin, now, when Emma comes over, don’t say anything about Abner Stoltzfus. You know how she is. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’d consider marrying him to be ‘settling.’ She’s sort of special, Elvin. I mean, she’s a lot special. Smart, beautiful, classy. She’s not a girl who will be content marrying someone like Abner. So just stay quiet about him, okay?”

  Elvin, his round cheeks like polished apples surrounded by a healthy brown beard, slanted his own dark eyes at his wife and told her he would keep quiet if it meant so much to her.

  “It does. And thank you.”

  Their shared smile held the old-fashioned value of giving in, one to another, the foundation for a strong and enduring union.

  Emma bounded up the steps of her friend’s house, eager as always. They met in a close embrace. Emma picked up the eight-month-old Elijah, who wriggled with delight at seeing someone he recognized, then leaned back into her arms to catch her eye before his little face burst into a huge smile for the second time. He snuggled against her shoulder, and Emma tightened her grip on the small body.

  “He is the most lovable baby ever,” she said, patting the rounded little bottom.

  “He’s ours, that’s why,” Eva answered, laughing.

  “He’s like me. He gets all that friendliness from me,” Elvin told her.

  Emma laughed. She’d often told Eva that her home was like a lighthouse that always guided her directly to their front porch.

  “So tell me. Tell me everything again.”

  Eva led the way to the kitchen, a homey bright spot that held her in its coziness. She’d painted the old cabinets white, painted the walls and the woodwork in coordinating shades of gray, spread bright throw rugs across the worn linoleum, added her personal touches on the countertop. A bouquet of snap dragons and asparagus ferns were arranged in an antique vase, a woven runner spread neatly underneath.

  “Iced coffee?” Eva asked.

  “Oh, wonderful. Of course,” Emma answered.

  Elvin made his special popcorn, sprinkled liberally with sour cream and onion powder, an alarming river of melted butter and Parmesan cheese poured over top.

  “You know your popcorn should be called ‘Clogged Artery Special,’” Emma remarked, as she dipped a cereal dish into the bowl.

  “Or ‘High Blood Pressure Mix,’” Eva said, stuffing a large handful into her mouth.

  “Ah, come on. A little butter never hurt anyone,” Elvin said. “No worse than that coffee bomb you’re drinking.”

  And so it went, all afternoon, three friends who had no problem speaking their minds, and no problem understanding each other’s views and values.

  The front porch was located to the west, with a large oak tree shading it all afternoon, a breeze coming from the north side, riffling the leaves and the ferns in their moss baskets hanging from hooks in the ceiling.

  As it inevitably would, the conversation turned to Ben, whom Eva had labeled “that North Carolina fiasco.”

  “I refuse to think of that time in those terms, Eva. It was not a fiasco.”

  Her lips compressed in a tight line and her eyes flashed with rebellion as she pushed the white porch swing with one foot. An uncomfortable silence followed, an itchy blanket of outrage thrown across the porch by Emma’s own hand.

  “Well,” Eva said brightly, recovering her composure after meeting Elvin’s eyes in total agreement. The poor thing, she hadn’t even started to give up.

  Anyone who had fallen in love would have contacted her by now, if he was serious. Eva and Elvin had rehashed this with each other many times. When was Emma going to accept this fact?

  “Well,” she repeated, “why don’t we just let sleeping dogs lie, then? Okay?”

  “We should plan a vacation,” Elvin said suddenly.

  Eva’s feet slid on the cement floor of the porch as she brought the swing to a stop, spread both arms to her side, palms up, in a gesture of helplessness.

  “What? That came out of nowhere.”

  “I have two weeks paid vacation from my job.”

  “But we were going to work on the house.”

  “The house will be here when we get back.”

  “Okay?” Eva was clearly taken aback. “But, where would we go? The Outer Banks? Those houses are hesslich expensive.”

  “My boss owns a camper and he told me the other day we could borrow it—it’s just sitting in his driveway and he doesn’t know when he’ll get a chance to use it. We could get a driver and pay for a spot along a river somewhere. A nice campground. With a pool, a golf course, hiking trails, you know. Maybe Virginia? Or Tennessee to the Great Smoky Mountains. Wherever we want. I could get Randy to drive. Emma could go.”

  “What? I don’t care how big the camper is, it’s too small to house me with all of you,” Emma protested, thinking of the lack of privacy, the close proximity to bathroom and bedroom.

  “No, Emma. It’s not. That would be simply delightful. Let’s do it, Elvin. Let’s. When would we go?”

  The remainder of the day was spent poring over dog-eared maps, atlas copies and calendars. They finally concluded the most accessible campground would be one in West Virginia, beside the Monongahela River. It was called Buena Vista retreat. The Appalachian Trail was less than a mile away, there was swimming and boating, a waterpark, and a good trout stream.

  They grilled burgers in the backyard, brought out a bowl of potato salad and fresh-sliced tomatoes, a chocolate cake and raspberry jello. They discussed plans and Elvin promised to speak to his boss the next day.

  After Emma left to go to the hymn singing, Eva fastened her brown eyes on her husband’s face, and said she was going to invite her cousin, Elam Yoder’s Matt.

  “What?” Elvin’s mouth dropped open.

  “I am. I’ve got to get Emma’s mind off Ben. You and I both know he would have found Emma by now if he was ever going to.”

  Elvin nodded soberly. “But Matt? He’s at least thirty.”

  “He’s thirty-four. He has a birthday in September and he’ll be thirty-five. He’s my sister Rose’s age.”

  “But he’s not Amish.”

  “So? He never joined a church, but he could. His whole family is Amish. He could be our driver! But Elvin, if you breathe a word of this to Emma, the consequences will be dire. She will not go if we even mention the possibility of a man.”

  CHAPTER 13

  BY MID-SEPTEMBER, EMMA HAD HELPED FINISH UP MUCH OF THE PRODUCE picking, cleaned the packing shed, and sewn a few new dresses and bib aprons.

  Dena was upset, clai
ming the whole thing absolutely unfair. Whoever heard of not one, but two vacations in one summer? It didn’t help when Emma reminded her that her first trip had not been a vacation. Dena replied that Emma should wake up and smell the truth now, because it was pretty rank, this old maid odor that wafted through the room.

  “Spinsters go on cruises, they go out west, they spend entire winters in Florida, and you are exactly like them.”

  “You make the single life sound pretty appealing,” Emma countered. But secretly she had started to question the vacation herself. What if she missed a voicemail or a letter from Ben? What if he showed up at her family’s farm and she wasn’t there?

  But she did not want to back out on Eva, who was looking forward to this trip with an unusual intensity. So she placated Dena as best she could, tried to stop thinking about Ben, and packed her bag again.

  The morning of departure she dressed in an olive-green dress that lent a golden hue to her dark tan and brought out the gold streaks in her auburn hair from her days in the sun. The day was one of those achingly golden days of late summer, when you could sense the dying of leaves and flowers, when the mandevilla and hibiscus in concrete urns were simply astonishing. Puffy white clouds scudded across the deep blue sky, and the black dual-wheeled double-cap pickup gleamed like alabaster as it slowly hummed up to the house.

  She hugged her mother, said goodbye to her father, kissed the little girls, gave Dena a knuckle bump, and pulled her luggage off the porch and down the sidewalk.

  The driver opened the door, got out, and helped Emma load her luggage into the back. She supposed he was Randy, the English driver she’d heard Eva mention in the past. He had driven Eva to the hospital when she had the baby, drove Eva to the mall to go shopping at Christmastime. She said he was always prompt and polite and she hated it when he wasn’t available and she had to call someone else. Now Randy informed Emma that the camper was at Elvin’s house and that they’d stop there next to hitch it up to the truck and pick up the family.

  She climbed into the front seat, her large brown purse at her feet, adjusted the seat belt and settled in, happy to seize the day. The long hot summer was over, her bank account swelled with fair wages from her father, and she had enough cash in her purse to enjoy two good weeks with her best friend and family.

  “Beautiful morning,” he commented.

  “Sure is. It would be cool to have this perfect weather for the next two weeks.”

  “Yeah.”

  She slid a sideways glance at him. He had deeply tanned skin, dark hair. He wasn’t bad looking, though a little hairy. She liked his profile, with that cap pulled low like that. She wondered if he’d haul the camper to the campsite and return to his roofing job. Surely he wouldn’t stay. How awkward would that be?

  “Are you . . . will you be camping with us?”

  Please say no, she thought.

  “They invited me.”

  What? Why did they do that? Oh, for crying out loud. Seriously.

  “I have my tent.”

  She didn’t answer, trying to sort through the quick rush of annoyance, disappointment, and some other feeling she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “You don’t care for the idea?”

  “What? Oh no, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking, I guess.”

  He laughed, a low rumbling sound. He turned the steering wheel to the left, his copper-colored hands and arms enormous, bulging with sinew and muscle, heaving black hair covering everything.

  Their arrival at Elvin’s place was announced by horn honking before Randy cut the engine and hopped out, greeting Elvin with shoulder slaps and hand-clasping. Eva was nothing if not exuberant. They hauled a mountain of luggage into the silver camper with black and gold detailing. It had the head of a snarling cougar painted on one side.

  “Wow,” Emma exclaimed. “It is beautiful.”

  “It’s stacked with everything we’ll need. Even popcorn and iced coffee.”

  “Great! Oh, this will be awesome,” Emma said, climbing in and reveling in the pretty interior, the tiny refrigerator and stove, the blinds and table with upholstered three-sided seating.

  She lowered her voice to a quiet, hissing whisper.

  “Why did you ask the driver to stay? Where is he going to sleep?”

  Eva hid her grin. Off to a good start.

  “All set?” Elvin asked, sticking his head through the narrow doorway?

  “Yes. I think we are. I can’t think of anything we’ll need, so if you’ll get the car seat fastened, I think we can leave.”

  Elijah was seated and strapped in between Eva and Emma, with Elvin in the front with Randy the driver.

  Emma noticed the black hair, the bulk of his shoulders, the expert way he dipped his head to pull out, checking the rearview mirror. There was a smooth transition from a standstill to a slow glide out to the road, more turning of the wheel before they were on the macadam.

  It was exciting, this huge, thrumming diesel truck drawing the amazing camper, heading out to the mountains of West Virginia.

  The morning flew by as they traveled on the interstate highways, exiting one to get on another, road signs and numbers blurring into a jumble of names and places. Elijah fell asleep, his little head lolling uncomfortably against the side of the car seat till Emma put a soft flannel-backed blanket next to his ear. Eva chattered on happily. Emma watched the late-summer landscape, aware of the black eyes in the mirror on the windshield that seemed to keep glancing at her. She vowed to change seats with Eva after they stopped for lunch.

  She turned her face to the left, watched a small red car fly past, the two people in the front seat talking and laughing, followed by another. Everyone was a couple. Two and two. Everywhere.

  “Denny’s? McDonalds?” Randy called, checking the mirror as he prepared to exit.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Elvin said. “You pick.”

  He drove with purpose, his wide shoulders and enormous arms turning the rig into the asphalt parking lot of a Chipotle.

  “This okay?”

  “I have no idea. Never ate here. But I’m anxious to try it,” Eva said. Emma didn’t say anything. Elvin was always happy, so he was game.

  “What about you?”

  Those black eyes were directed at her. Oh, come on.

  “It’s fine.”

  “You ever eat here?”

  None of your business, she wanted to say. No, she never had, but she wasn’t about to let him feel as if he was introducing her to some culinary experience, making her feel like a Crawford County hillbilly. So she didn’t answer, and instead busied herself with the straps on Elijah’s car seat.

  She had to admit the food was delicious. Her taste buds sang with intense new flavors and textures, beans and rice and hot salsa and warm tortillas and nachos and fajitas. She loved it all, except for the fact that Randy sat at the same table. Drivers didn’t usually do that, but she supposed he’d been their driver for so long, they’d become friendly.

  While the women went to the ladies room to freshen up, the men strolled in the parking lot while the driver smoked a cigarette.

  He exhaled, shook his head and said, “Whoo. Who is she?”

  Elvin nodded, laughed outright.

  “I told you, she’s Eva’s best friend. She had a rough summer.”

  “She doesn’t want me camping with you. Should I just drop you all off and pick you up when you’re ready?”

  “She’ll get over it.”

  That was all the time they had before they were joined by the women, Elijah perched on Emma’s hip.

  The driver dropped his cigarette, ground it under his heel, then bent to pick it up to deposit it in the trash.

  Despicable man. Nasty habit. Emma was now feeling really peeved that she’d have to share this vacation with him.

  He was looking straight into her eyes. A shock went through her body, a jolt of electricity as if she’d touched a hot fence.

  “Did you enjoy Chipotle?”

  Sh
e looked away. “I did. It was every good. Thank you.”

  And then he smiled with his even white teeth and his black eyes were squeezed into crescents.

  “Good. Next time, you pick.”

  Another smile, and he hopped behind the wheel, leaving her standing on the hot asphalt before she remembered to open the door of the truck and climb in.

  They were entering a scenic valley, completely surrounded by tall blue-green mountains, small white churches with steeples painted skyward, dirt roads, and small ramshackle buildings that caved in with rusty tin torn off and bent in two, beams and lathe revealed.

  “Hey, Matt! Look at this,” Elvin shouted, gesturing wildly to the right, where a herd of whitetails were grazing in the afternoon sun, antlers glinting white.

  “Whoa!”

  What? His name was Matt? Emma said nothing.

  Eva stretched her neck to see the herd of whitetails, but at the speed they were moving, by then there was nothing to see.

  “You need to slow down if you want to holler about a herd of deer,” Eva said loudly.

  Something was off. This man was not a usual Amish driver. No one would ever talk like that to a hired driver, Emma thought.

  Eva smiled, slid back in her seat, and crossed her arms, clearly pleased with the adventure that had just begun.

  The camping area was the most charming spot ever, surrounded by layers of mountains that rose in undulating waves around the little valley. The river flowed strong and wide, its colors changing from green to brown to blue, depending which way the sun and the clouds hit the water.

  Willow trees hovered along the banks like a green fringe, the low-hanging branches dipping into the surface. There were acres of well-maintained lawn, forests to explore, a swimming pool, playground, all kinds of games and activities to enjoy.