The Amish Christmas Kitchen

by Kelly Long

  “I suppose I was thinking of what Titus might like yet.”

  Adam stuck out his lower lip. “How could you think of Titus and not your boyfriend? I really want that Chocolate Wonder.” He turned to Titus as if he were on the attack, even though he smiled as if they were buddies. Titus straightened his shoulders. They were buddies. They’d played softball together in school. “Don’t you agree that Katie’s boyfriend should get the special dessert, especially since you ate all my cookies?”

  Titus glanced at Katie, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking because she was looking down at her shoes. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

  Adam tugged the pan from Titus’s fingers and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Then you won’t mind if I take the Chocolate Wonder, will you, kid? After all, I’m Katie’s boyfriend. You’re just the boy who takes care of Anna’s goat and writes poems.”

  Titus nodded dumbly, because he couldn’t think of a gute reason that Adam shouldn’t get the Chocolate Wonder. He almost couldn’t bear seeing his special dessert in the wrong hands, but Adam was the boyfriend. The boyfriend should get the Chocolate Wonder and all of Katie’s smiles. Titus was just a glorified goatherd.

  But wait a minute. How did Adam know Titus wrote poetry? Had Katie told him?—because Titus didn’t share that talent with just anybody. He hadn’t shared that talent with anybody but Katie.

  “But . . . Adam,” Katie protested weakly. “I can make you another Chocolate Wonder. Titus deserves this.”

  “And you deserve this,” Adam said, kneeling down on one knee and setting Titus’s Chocolate Wonder on the ground next to him. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper and one of the gold stars that had been hanging on the bulletin board in the school.

  Katie took a small step backward. Titus couldn’t move a muscle.

  Adam unfolded the paper and started reading. “Katie’s eyes are chocolate brown. They shine just like a star. I think about her all the time, whether she be near or far. I hope that she will smile at me and bake me one more cake. If I am left here all alone, I know my heart will break.”

  Titus’s lungs were so tight, he couldn’t have taken a breath if his life depended on it.

  Well, his life did depend on it, so he drew in a breath as if he was sucking from a straw.

  Adam Wengerd had stolen his poem!

  Adam had probably been sneaking around the barn and found where Titus hid his poetry. Titus was truly grateful he’d discarded his toothpick. He was so shocked, he would have swallowed it, and he would have come down with a very bad stomachache. Titus couldn’t utter a word, not even when Katie pursed her lips and eyed him with concern as if she wanted him to say something.

  A toothpick stomachache would have been nothing compared to the ache in his heart. Adam had stolen his poem, and it wouldn’t surprise Titus if that one poem won Katie’s heart in the end. It had been his very best one.

  Adam pressed the gold star to his heart, then handed it to Katie. She took it as if she wasn’t sure what to do with it but felt guilty for not knowing. Adam grinned at Titus as if they shared a secret. Jah, they shared a secret. The secret that Adam was a thief and a plagia-rizercist. . . or whatever that word was.

  Adam picked up his pan of Chocolate Wonder and stood. He tapped Katie lightly on the nose with his finger. “We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Titus surprised himself that he was able to speak. “Tomorrow night?”

  Katie glanced down at her hands, then up at Titus, then down again. The smile on her face looked like she’d taped it there. “My parents are coming from Augusta, and Adam’s parents will be there. For dinner.”

  “I’m going to propose to Katie,” Adam said. “I wanted our parents to be there to see it.”

  Titus eyed Katie. How long had she known about this? She didn’t look all that happy about it, but maybe she was just nervous. Who wouldn’t be nervous anticipating a proposal?

  They stood in silence for a few seconds, Titus staring at Katie, Adam staring at Titus, and Katie staring at her hands.

  “Well,” Adam said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Katie. And remember, no Jell-O of any kind. My dat hates it.”

  “I’ll remember,” Katie said as if he’d asked her to remember to muck out the barn.

  Adam turned to go back into the school, stopped short, and turned around. He practically smacked Titus on the shoulder and leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “You don’t mind, do you, kid? I was trying to impress my fiancée.”

  He jogged away, not waiting for an answer. Titus couldn’t have given him one.

  “I . . . uh . . . I should fetch Anna and Felty,” Katie said, not looking at him. “Good night, Titus.” She raised on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. Titus stood perfectly still even though it felt like a tornado had gone through the school yard. “Denki. For everything.”

  She walked quickly back to the school as if there really was a tornado and she had to get to shelter.

  Titus reached into his pocket and pulled out three toothpicks, just to calm his nerves. Adam had stolen his dessert and his poem, and Katie had kissed him. A thousand rhymes came into his head.

  Adam is in love, it’s true, but he stole my poem. I feel like poo.

  I really should step back from this, but Katie Rose gave me a kiss.

  Titus wasn’t sure about it, but it didn’t seem right that Adam stole people’s poems. If Adam was that much in love, he should write his own. Titus pressed his lips around his three toothpicks. Not everyone had Titus’s gift for poetry. Maybe Adam couldn’t think of his own poem and was so desperate, he had to steal one of Titus’s.

  The door to the schoolhouse opened, and Dawdi appeared. He tromped down the stairs, squinting into the darkness as if he was looking for something. “Titus, there you are. I was hoping you hadn’t left yet.”

  Titus hung his head. He shouldn’t be having unkind thoughts about Adam. Dawdi wouldn’t like it. “I was just headed out.”

  “Katie and Anna decided they should help Adam clean up. I decided we should have a talk, man to man,” Dawdi said.

  Titus squared his shoulders. He liked it when Dawdi wanted to talk man to man. Dawdi’s respect always made Titus forget Cousin Norman’s dislike.

  “As soon as Katie came inside, Adam got down on one knee and recited a poem for her.” Dawdi frowned and smoothed his gray beard as amusement twinkled in his eyes. “It sounded a lot like one of your poems.”

  Titus let out a breath it felt he’d been holding for a long time. “I don’t want to talk bad about anyone, Dawdi, but it was one of my poems.” Titus drew his brows together. “Either that or we both wrote the same poem by mistake.”

  Dawdi nodded as if he had answers to every question ever asked. “Nae, I caught him sneaking around the barn a few days ago. He must have found your stash of poems.”

  Titus tried to keep a straight face. “My stash of poems? What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been sneaking around the barn, too. I read your poems while I milk Iris. They’re very creative and keep me from getting bored. It’s a shame to keep all that talent to yourself. Even Adam knows it should be shared.”

  Titus pulled all three toothpicks out of his mouth. “But Katie thinks he wrote it. She thinks a lot of things about Adam that might not be true.”

  “Like the fact that he took credit for shoveling our sidewalk? Or that he let you do the deliveries even though he made Katie think he helped you?”

  Titus thought his eyes would pop out of his head. “How did you know?”

  Dawdi lifted his eyebrows. He always looked so smart when he did that. “Everyone thinks all I do is read the newspaper. You learn a lot when no one knows you’re paying attention.”

  “I was happy to shovel the sidewalk and I didn’t need the credit for it, but it doesn’t seem fair that Adam was admired for something he didn’t do.” Titus quickly remembered himself and cleared his throat. “Adam Wengerd
is a wonderful nice boy. For sure and certain, he knows how to put on a wunderbarr Christmas program.”

  Dawdi’s lips twitched upward. “Adam is a nice boy, but Katie will never guess how you feel about her if you keep scooting out of the way for Adam. If you love her, you need to fight for her.”

  “Fight for her?”

  “Symbolically, of course. We still believe in nonviolence.”

  Titus’s head ached from thinking so hard. “How do I fight symbolically?”

  Dawdi wrapped an arm around Titus’s neck. “Maybe it means not giving up on someone you care about, even if you’re afraid you’ll hurt Adam’s feelings. You have feelings, too.”

  “Jah. I suppose I do.” And he felt like maybe, possibly, likely he was in love with Katie.

  Nae. There was no maybe. His insides felt like chocolate tapioca pudding with raisins every time she smiled at him. He loved Katie Rose Gingerich, as sure as Adam Wengerd had nice teeth.

  He’d almost convinced himself that he should step back so that Adam and Katie would be free to fall in love. Except now he thought maybe he should step forward. Adam was a real nice boy, but he stole other people’s Chocolate Wonder and other people’s hard-written poems. He didn’t deserve to marry Katie.

  And Titus loved her.

  This time, he would not step back.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Annie,” Felty said, scooping himself another helping of Katie’s corn chowder. “You made Titus a Viking beanie and Katie a Minion scarf. Are they related somehow?”

  Anna seemed to perk up her ears. “Well, Felty, they’re not related yet.”

  “Vikings and Minions?” Adam’s mamm said, trying hard to follow the dinner conversation.

  Anna smiled sweetly. “I meant Titus and Katie. They’re not related yet.”

  Katie was too nervous to make sense of Anna’s remark. Of course she and Titus weren’t related. Maybe she was hearing things.

  Steam rose from the hot roll when Adam’s dat split it in two and spread butter on it. “The minister mentioned the devil and his minions in a sermon not long ago. I think minions are evil helpers.”

  “Jah,” Mamm said, “and I don’t think we need to say any more about that.”

  Mamm was practically glowing with anticipation and looking at Adam’s parents as if they were direct descendants of Jakob Ammann, the founder of the Amish faith. Katie didn’t even have the energy to sit up straight. She felt as if she were fighting against a powerful current that threatened to pull her under and drown her. How had things gone so far awry?

  She picked at her vegetable medley, barely listening to the conversation that no one cared whether or not she participated in. Mamm and Dat were gushing over every word that came out of Adam’s mouth. It was a lot of gushing, because Adam always had so many words.

  Adam hadn’t even complained about the vegetables, even though the dish was a combination of broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, and onions swimming in a pool of melted homemade mozzarella cheese. His dat raved about it, so Adam kept his dislike for carrots to himself.

  “The chowder isn’t as thick as I like it,” Adam said, “but it’s wonderful-gute, Katie.”

  Mamm nodded so enthusiastically, a strand of hair came loose from her kapp. “Katie knows her chowders. She even makes clams tasty.”

  Katie made a mental note. Next time, she’d have to work on making the chowder thicker, more to Adam’s liking.

  Ach, she would have liked to wander out to the barn and sit with Titus while he lit crayons on fire, but she hadn’t seen him all day. His cousin Aden had come twice to milk the goats, and when Anna had asked about Titus, Aden had only told them that Titus was working on something big and had asked Aden to milk for him. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Titus was probably getting a few presents for his family, but Katie had been disappointed all the same.

  No one understood Katie like Titus did. It was easy to talk to him, and she sensed his gute heart every time he smiled at her. Besides that, he looked so adorable with that toothpick he always had pressed between his teeth. What more could she want?

  It didn’t matter, because she’d be back in Augusta in another week and wouldn’t see Titus again until she and Adam moved in with his parents after the wedding.

  Oy, anyhow. She would suffocate if she let herself think about the wedding. Better not to turn blue in front of her future in-laws.

  Katie gave up on her dinner when everyone else finished eating. She pulled herself from her chair and retrieved the triple chocolate cake from the fridge. Adam’s parents oohed and aahed over the cake, while Adam smiled as if he took credit for making it. She served everyone a generous slice except herself. She had no stomach for chocolate tonight. How could she, when Adam had taken Titus’s Chocolate Wonder and left Titus with nothing? She should have said something. Why had she been too chicken to say something?

  “This is wonderful-gute cake, Katie,” Adam’s mamm said, licking her fork clean. “Next time you should make it with coconut-pecan frosting.”

  Katie pressed her lips together. Adam hated coconut-pecan frosting. It would be impossible to please both her mother-in-law and her husband. She’d have to avoid the whole dilemma by never making triple chocolate cake again—that or make two different cakes for every get-together.

  Adam ate two pieces of cake before he crinkled his napkin into a ball, tossed it onto his plate, and scooted his chair out from under the table. He held out his hand to her. “Katie, come here,” he said, with such confidence in his tone that Katie hopped to her feet and took his hand.

  Her heart thumped inside her chest like a tense bunny rabbit. She wished she were anywhere but here. If she prayed hard enough, would Gotte have mercy on her and transport her to the barn with the goats? Adam gazed at her with something akin to love in his eyes.

  She had thought she wanted Adam to propose to her. She had thought she didn’t want to be an old maid, but now, at the moment of truth, she didn’t know exactly what she wanted. Well . . . not exactly. She knew exactly what she didn’t want. And that was Adam. Adam made her long to be an old maid. She couldn’t marry him. She just couldn’t.

  But how was she going to tell him that, with his parents and her parents leaning in with such eagerness?

  Katie glanced at Anna. Titus’s mammi eyed Katie with a glint of exasperation dancing in her eyes. Katie couldn’t decipher what that look meant. All she knew was that the panic rose like bile in her throat. What was she going to do? What was she going to say?

  Adam took both of Katie’s hands in his. She was going to throw up.

  The front door crashed against the wall behind it as if a stiff wind had blown it open, and Titus Helmuth stood in the doorway wearing his Viking beanie and looking as fierce as if he were preparing for battle.

  Katie thought her heart might stop. He looked so determined, so formidable. So handsome.

  He took two adamant steps into the room. “Katie,” he said, the toothpick quivering on his lip, “You cannot marry Adam Wengerd.”

  Her heart fluttered like a whole garden of butterflies and moths and spiders—nae, not spiders. Spiders were scary, and this was a much more pleasant feeling. “I . . . I can’t?”

  Adam tightened his grip on Katie’s hands and stared daggers at Titus. “We’re in the middle of something important here, kid.”

  Titus ignored Adam altogether. Always thoughtful of making sure the heat stayed inside, he closed the door behind him and swiped his battle beanie off his head. “Katie, I am . . . you are the girl . . . I need to tell you . . .” He frowned in frustration, pulled the toothpick from his mouth, and broke it into little pieces.

  “Titus,” Adam said, more loudly this time. “You need to leave.”

  Titus flung his broken toothpick to the floor and planted his feet. “Adam, you’re a real nice guy, but you’re a poem stealer, and I’ve lost all respect for you, symbolically, of course.”

  Adam glanced at Katie and chuckled uncomfortably. “What are you talking
about?”

  Titus took a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I have written another poem to tell you how I feel. I mean Katie, not Adam.”

  Adam’s face turned as red as a Christmas bow. “Titus, you’re interrupting something very important.”

  Katie pulled her hands from Adam’s grasp and took a step toward Titus. “I’d like to hear it.” She sounded mousy and small, but at least she’d gotten the words out. Her feelings were just as important as Adam’s.

  Titus nodded as if preparing to deliver a sermon in church. “Oh, Katie dear, my heart beats fast whenever I can see you. We’ve gone on a few fun sleigh rides and even burned some goat poo. I know you came to Bonduel to marry Adam Wengerd, but from the very first day here, my faithful heart you have stirred. And so, although I know I am not worthy of your love, my heart will break in two unless you say you’ll be my wife.” Titus folded his paper, and for the first time since he’d stormed into the room, he looked unsure of himself. “I couldn’t think of a gute rhyme for love.”

  “It wasn’t a very gute rhyme for Wengerd, either,” Adam muttered.

  The room fell silent except for the sound of Katie’s heart thumping in her ears. Adam’s parents looked as if they were trying to catch flies in their open mouths. Her mamm’s eyes were as wide as peanut blossom cookies, and her dat’s eyes were as narrow as one of Titus’s toothpicks.

  Only Anna and Felty seemed unruffled. Felty dished himself another piece of chocolate cake, and Anna smiled like she always did when Titus shared one of his poems. “That was lovely, Titus,” Anna said, lacing her fingers together.

  Katie met eyes with Titus. His expression was so full of love and determination, she thought she might faint. Titus wanted to marry her, but until this moment, she hadn’t realized that she wanted to marry him, too. More than anything.

  Adam looked from Katie to Titus. “Is this some kind of a joke? Because it’s not funny.” He was yelling by the time he said funny. He definitely didn’t sound amused.

  “Jah,” his dat said. “What is going on here?” He slammed his hand against the table so hard, Katie jumped.