Becka laughed while shaking her head, “Maybe because if we had dessert for dinner every night we’d be the size of a small haus.”
Aaron looked down at his own physique before taking in Becka’s lean body and shook his head. “I think we’ll be fine.”
Laughing, they walked through the doors of the diner and took a booth near the back. “I feel like a naughty child,” Becka laughed when the waitress arrived.
“We’ll have two death by chocolate desserts please and you can bring us apple pie as well.”
“We’ll be sweet until next Christmas,” Becka’s eyes were wide with shock.
“I doubt you could be any sweeter.” Aaron heard the words tumble from his mouth before realizing it.
A light crimson colored Becka’s cheeks as she smiled at him. “I’m glad you came on the trip, Aaron.”
Aaron nodded, “Me too.”
Looking at her, he knew she wasn’t really looking to break away from her roots; she simply hadn’t found a reason to stay. They talked about the city and their lives back home and Aaron wondered how he could help her find a reason. Would an engagement be reason enough? He pushed the thought aside almost as soon as it entered his mind.
He barely knew her, they hadn’t even courted yet.
And yet, Aaron smiled, she was everything he wanted in his future wife.
Chapter 7
Becka finished her death by chocolate dessert. She had never tasted anything as decadently sweet before. She finished it off with a glass of milk and watched as Aaron enjoyed the apple pie. “I can’t believe you’re still eating…” Becka said shaking her head.
Aaron shrugged, “My mamm always said I should finish my dinner.”
They both laughed as the waitress brought the check. Aaron insisted on paying which made Becka’s heart swell just a little more. Tonight felt almost like a date, she thought as they left the diner.
Aaron took her hand when they were a block away to cross the street. Again, he didn’t let her hand go once they had crossed. She knew the others were out dancing and partying and yet she didn’t want to be anywhere but right here with Aaron.
“Denke for joining me tonight, I had a gut time,” Aaron said as they walked into the park. The streetlights provided just enough light to make it seem more romantic than creepy.
Becka looked at his profile in the dim light and her heart skipped a beat. She liked Aaron more than she thought she would. Sure, she’d been watching him in the farm stall for a couple of months, but she never thought they’d get on so well. As they walked, she tried to imagine what the trip to the city would have been like if Aaron hadn’t been there.
Would she have drunk the beer just because everyone else was? Would she have gone dancing? Would she have done something she might have regretted?
As all these thoughts swirled through her mind, Becka realized none of that mattered because Aaron brought her a realization that night. Something she had never realized before. Being happy wasn’t about where you were; it was about who was with you.
Perhaps being Amish wasn’t the reason she never felt as if she belonged, maybe it was because she had never met someone she could see herself having a future with. With Aaron she could imagine a future. She could imagine marriage and raising children on the dairy farm. It was too soon to dream such dreams, but Becka couldn’t help herself.
“I think I’ve had enough of the city,” Aaron proclaimed as they took a seat on a bench beneath a willow tree.
Becka turned to him with a frown, “What do you mean?”
Aaron shrugged, “Ach, I wanted to come to see what the fuss was all about, but I’ve had enough. I think I’ll be heading home tomorrow.”
Becka felt her hopes drop to the soles of her feet. She had hoped they could spend more time together, to get to know each other a little better.
“Would you like to come with me?” Aaron suddenly asked, interrupting her thoughts. “We can take the bus together, talk on the way home. I’d like to get to know you better, Becka, but I just don’t feel like myself here…”
Becka sighed before a smile titled the corners of her mouth. “Jah, I’d like to come with. I didn’t know why I felt so out of place but you’re right, I don’t feel like myself here either.” She glanced down at her clothes, those she had brought especially for this trip. Instead of feeling worldly and fashionable, she felt uncomfortable. The clothes clung to her body like a second skin, making her feel self-conscious. Without her prayer kapp, her head feel exposed. She knew an Englischer would never understand, but she did.
Looking into Aaron’s green eyes, Becka suddenly realized that she had fought so hard against being who she really was she had forgotten that she actually liked being Amish.
“Gut. We can leave in the morning, if you’re sure. I don’t want you to go home and regret not staying.”
Becka listened to the sirens wailing through the streets, the bright lights suffocating almost every star in the night sky, the scent of dirt and gas that hung in the air filled her senses. “Nee, I’m ready to go home.”
“We can have dessert for breakfast,” Aaron joked with a cocked brow, making Becka laugh.
“I think I’ll have breakfast for breakfast, denke very much.”
“Jah, me too. I now understand why it’s called death by chocolate. A person could die eating too much of that.”
“I don’t even want to know how much sugar they put in that dessert.”
“Too much.”
They slowly made their way back to the youth hostel, talking about their lives back home, their families and even their childhoods. Becka had never enjoyed talking as much. By the time she climbed into bed, her Englisch clothes packed away in her suitcase, Becka couldn’t help but wonder if she was being naive.
She had come to the city to find herself. To help her decide whether or not she wanted to be baptized into the community. To experience more of the Englisch world, and yet here she was already leaving for home.
Wasn’t it foolish of her to go home just because it meant spending more time with Aaron? Shouldn’t she stay for the rest of the weekend and explore the city on her own? If she left the congregation, she wouldn’t have Aaron to protect her or to guide her in the city.
A sigh escaped her as she turned to hug her pillow. She looked out the window and instead of the canopy of stars she saw from her bed at home, she could see only concrete walls.
A concrete jungle…
She had never loved the farm, the farm stall or even the country side, but faced with the grim grey of the concrete in the city, Becka missed home.
Tomorrow, she would go home, she thought just before she fell asleep, and she would try to be Amish again. She would try to find happiness at home instead of in an Englisch city. She closed her eyes and asked Gott to guide her, to bring her happiness and to help her find her way. Her last prayer was for Aaron, for Gott to care for and protect him as He guided him on his rightful path.
Was she on that path, Becka wondered as she succumbed to sleep.
Chapter 8
After their quick trip to the city Aaron was glad to be back home. The constant work and predictable routine soothed him just as much as knowing that he was going to see Becka today did.
He had gone to the farm stall yesterday and asked if she would be able to take the afternoon off. He could see the reticence in her eyes, but she had agreed on condition her mamm let one of her schweschders watch over the stall while she was away.
Aaron placed the basket he had packed for the occasion in the buggy, and climbed in. He had never liked a girl enough to take time away from the farm for her. But with Becka, he cherished every conversation they had, every moment they could spend together.
He found it strange that she intrigued him this much; he didn’t even know if she felt the same, but that didn’t matter. Aaron liked her and he believed that she wouldn’t be spending time with him if she didn’t like him too.
He took the reins and guided the
horse out of the yard before turning onto the dirt road leading to Becka’s farm. She was on the steps outside the farm stall waiting for him when he arrived. A smile curved his mouth as she got up and walked towards the buggy. He didn’t understand why she had brought the Englisch clothes; he preferred her in plain clothes. She looked humble and plain, just like he was.
“Hullo, Aaron,” Becka said shyly as she climbed into the buggy. “Mamm said my schweschder can watch the stall for an hour.”
Aaron smiled with a nod, “Then we’d better make it count.”
Becka was quiet beside him on the short ride to the meadow. Aaron didn’t push her to talk; he just enjoyed the pleasure of her company as they rode.
They walked a short distance from the road to the top of the meadow. From there you could see the dairy farm on the one side and in the distance, the Raber Farm Stall. They had lived so close to each other their entire lives and yet they had only met a few weeks ago, Aaron thought as he spread a blanket over the lush grass.
“I packed us a picnic lunch.” Aaron opened the basket and unpacked a packet of biscuits and a bowl of cheese.
“I should have brought something,” Becka shook her head. “I didn’t even think…”
“I invited you – so I packed the basket.” Aaron smiled as he handed her an apple.
“Denke, Aaron.” Becka sighed and stared into the distance.
Aaron didn’t want to pry but he could clearly see that she was troubled. “What’s wrong, Becka? You seem upset. Is your mamm upset that we’re going on a picnic?”
“Nee,” Becka said quickly before setting down the apple. “Ach Aaron, it’s just…when we were in the city I was certain I belonged here. That I belonged with my familye, in the community that raised me, but now being back here, it’s as if my restlessness has returned.”
“What are you restless about?” Aaron asked carefully.
Becka sighed and looked into the distance. It was clear something was bothering her, but he would let her decide to talk to him in her own time. He chewed on a biscuit and waited until she finally turned to him.
“You know how you told me that you’ve always belonged, known that you would one day take over the dairy farm?”
“Jah?” Aaron frowned.
“It’s never been like that for me. I can’t cook, in fact I burn water. I can’t quilt, sew or even clean like my schweschders do. I don’t know what products remove stains. I don’t even know which vegetables you plant at different times of the year.”
“Becka, you’ll still learn…” Aaron tried to encourage.
“Nee, that’s the thing, you see. All my schweschders have, but it’s like I’m not like them. I’ve tried but I’m just no gut at doing the Amish things. Why do you think I tend the farm stall? It’s the only place my parents can use me.”
“That can’t be true.” Aaron refused to believe that Becka was without Gott given talents. He refused to believe that she could do nothing worthwhile.”
“It is true. I’m reticent about being baptized, Aaron. I’ve never told anyone this but you. But how can I be baptized into the community, into the congregation, if I can’t do what Amish wives are supposed to do? How can I even court if I know I won’t be the frau an Amish mann needs?”
“Becka, we all have different talents.”
“But I don’t. The only thing I’m gut at is building a potato pyramid.”
A smile curved Aaron’s mouth, “You build the best potato pyramid I’ve ever seen.”
That teased a chuckle out of her at least. But Becka sighed again, shaking her head. “It’s not funny. I don’t think I should be baptized, I don’t thing I belong here.”
For the first time Aaron realized how serious she was. He couldn’t imagine feeling like he didn’t belong. Feeling like he could do nothing right or as well as his siblings. He took her hand and looked into her troubled blue eyes. “Close your eyes, Becka.”
“What? Why?”
“Just close your eyes,” Aaron encouraged. “If you could be anywhere and do anything, what would that be?”
“I don’t know…” Becka complained. “All I’m gut at is telling stories. My schweschders and their friends love it when I tell them stories.”
“What stories do you want to tell?”
“I – I don’t know.”
Aaron squeezed her hand. “Becka, the problem isn’t that you feel you don’t belong. The problem is you feel that you have no purpose. If you find your purpose, you’ll belong right where you want to belong. I know you love your familye; I know you love the congregation and our community. I think you’re troubled because you feel you don’t contribute. Don’t make a decision based on that.”
“Then what should I base my decision on? On not being a contributing member of the community?”
Aaron gave her a charming grin, “You’re contributing right now, you’re making me happy.”
Becka laughed shaking her head, “Denke. I feel better but I still don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything. You just have to follow your heart. Gott has a plan for you, Becka. He has a plan for each of us; you just have to trust enough for Him to show it to you.”
Becka nodded. “Denke, truly.”
They spent the rest of the hour talking about the kids that came back from the city, about dairy farming and about the technique Becka used to build a potato pyramid, before it was time for her to go back.
When Aaron dropped her off he couldn’t be sure if he had swayed her at all, but at least she didn’t look as troubled or as sad. She climbed out of the buggy with a bounce in her step and waved to him over her shoulder with a smile.
Chapter 9
Becka climbed out of Aaron’s buggy two weeks later and climbed the porch steps. When she reached the top, she turned and waved him goodbye.
She still couldn’t believe that they had become so close since that first evening he had approached her at the bonfire. Becka didn’t know much about love but she had a sneaky suspicion that she was falling in love with Aaron Fischer. Over the last few weeks she spent every day either hoping for the moment he would visit the farm stall or thinking about him. She struggled to imagine how predictable her life had been before Aaron.
She enjoyed spending time with him and, the more time she spent with him, the more she realized how much she liked him. The only problem was knowing the time was drawing closer for her to make a decision with only a few weeks left of her rumspringa.
On the one hand she wanted to remain in the community, be baptized and become a member of the congregation. On the other hand she couldn’t help but wonder if she would be happy if she stayed. She had taken Aaron’s suggestion about finding a purpose to heart, but she still couldn’t seem to find that purpose.
Just the day before she had again tried her hand at quilting, trying to kill the hours while she sat waiting for customers in the farm stall, but her handiwork turned out even worse than before.
When Aaron’s buggy disappeared in the dusk, she stepped into the kitchen. The scent of chicken pie and vegetables made her mouth water. No one cooked like her mother. One day she would really need to get the hang of cooking at least or she would end up living on bread and biscuits.
“Hallo, Mamm.” Becka greeted her mother before pressing a chaste kiss against her cheek. “It smells delicious.”
“Denke, I hope it is. Daed says he has a hankering for chicken pie.” Her mother glanced over her shoulder. “Make us a cup of tea, why don’t you?”
Becka made them each a strong cup of chamomile tea, her mother’s favorite, before joining her at the table. “The farm stall did really gut today.”
“It always does when you’re there. None of us can sell the vegetables and the homemade items like you. You’ve got a real knack for it.”
Becka frowned; she had always thought she was sent to the farm stall because she was useless, she didn’t for once imagine it was because she actually did better than her
family. “Really?”
“Jah. We all have our own talents, Becka, you might not be a seamstress or a cook, but you know how to sell.”
Becka laughed, “I am no seamstress, although I’ll probably have to try to learn how to cook if I want to marry one day.”
“And do you want to marry?” her mother raised a brow as she sipped on her tea.
“I guess… one day…”
“Do you want to marry the Fischer boy you’ve been spending so much time with?” her mother’s mouth tilted into a grin.
Becka laughed, “I don’t know. We get along well and he’s kind, but I haven’t really thought about it that far ahead.”
“I think he’s a gut mann. Do you think you’ll court once you’re baptized?”
Becka felt the lead drop in her stomach. There it was. The question she had been avoiding for so long. She knew she was leaning towards leaving the community, but meeting Aaron had changed things a little. Becka couldn’t imagine never seeing him again, but she also couldn’t imagine living in a community where she couldn’t do what the other woman could. “I’m not sure.” she answered vaguely, hoping her mother wouldn’t hear the reticence in her voice.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time together. I won’t be surprised if you do. You’ll be attending singings together and then, you know.”
Becka could read the intended words her mother held back. Becka was already riding in Aaron’s buggy; it would only be natural for them to start courting once they were baptized.
“Maybe. Rumspringa is still a few more weeks at least before I need to start thinking ahead.”
“Jah, you’re right. I take it you’ve made your decision then?” It was the first time since her rumspringa had started that her mother asked her directly about her decision.
The baptism rate in their community was almost 95%. Most young people returned after rumspringa to join the community, and that didn’t help the guilt that was hounding Becka because she didn’t plan to.
The Amish Voice (Amish Romance) Page 3
