Made with Love

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Made with Love Page 21

by Tricia Goyer


  “Noah found two large urns in the back storage area today. He said they’d look awful nice filled with flowers and sitting by the front door. Would you be interested in doing that for me?”

  “Really?” Hope’s voice rose, and there was shuffling in her bed as she propped herself up on her elbow and turned to face Lovina. “You’d let me do that?”

  “Let you? I’d be honored. It would be helpful.”

  “Thank you.” Hope’s voice softened to a whisper. “It means a lot. It’s just with everyone else helping—with the sewing, the art, the remodeling, and the business plans…I sort of felt left out.”

  “Left out?” She studied Hope’s face in the low light and noticed tears rimming her eyes. “I just thought you weren’t interested in helping. You’ve been spending so much time with friends at the beach. You always act like things don’t bother you.”

  “Ja, well, then you have a lot to learn, don’t you.” Her sister tried to smile, but it was a sad affair. “Sometimes I feel the weakest. Sometimes I have to try to prove myself so I don’t feel left out.”

  Lovina listened and nodded, trying to take it in. “I’m sorry, Hope, for leaving you out.”

  Hope shrugged. “I know you didn’t mean to. But maybe you’ll remember that for your future employees. When one of them is putting up a wall, remember that those with the hardest outer shell have the softest insides.”

  “Like that turtle you brought home the first week we lived here?”

  Hope nodded. “Exactly.”

  Lovina lay there until her sister’s soft snores told her that she slept. That was one thing about having four sisters—it seemed at least one of them was always feeling left out. Why hadn’t she noticed? Mostly because of the pie shop, and also because Noah Yoder was filling all her thoughts. It was a lot to wrap her mind around, but as Lovina let her eyes flutter closed, she told herself to remember to pay attention to others too. God’s dream wasn’t just about her. What good would it do to open a pie shop—one that would bring people together—if it put a wedge between her and those she cared for most?

  No good at all. That’s what. As she drifted off to sleep she said a prayer for Hope. Prayed that Hope would find something good to smile about, just like Lovina had in not one, but in two ways.

  Orange Pie

  One 9-inch baked pastry pie crust

  2 cups water, divided

  1 cup sugar

  2 tablespoons cornstarch

  1 teaspoon orange-flavored drink mix

  3 oranges, peeled and chopped

  Cream cheese mixture

  4 ounces cream cheese, softened

  2 cups powdered sugar

  8 ounces whipped cream

  To prepare orange topping: Bring 1½ cups of water to a boil in a saucepan. In a bowl, mix together sugar, cornstarch, and drink mix. Add remaining ½ cup of water into the sugar mixture and stir. Pour into boiling water and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly. Remove from heat when it begins to thicken a bit. Stir in orange pieces. Set aside until cool.

  To prepare cream cheese mixture: Stir together cream cheese and powdered sugar until creamy. Add whipped cream to the mixture. Spread into baked pie crust and spoon orange topping over filling. Refrigerate overnight. Decorate the top of the pie with extra whipped cream, if desired.

  Twenty-Six

  Faith is the bridge over which we can cross all the unknown waters of tomorrow.

  AMISH PROVERB

  Lovina stepped into the morning, hoping for a cool breeze. She heard a sound and noticed Hope sitting outside the back door on the wooden bench that had been left by the previous owners. At her side was a bucket of gardening tools. Hope was glaring at the barren yard. Was she thinking about their large garden back in Walnut Creek? Of her old shed filled with rakes and hoes, or garden stakes and a push tiller? Hope’s garden had been a sight to see. It had been appreciated by anyone who took a slow ride by on a buggy.

  Hope’s head lifted as Lovina closed the door behind her. “Are you heading to the pie shop?”

  “Ja. Just heading there now. Want to join me? We can walk. It’s a beautiful day.”

  Hope picked up the bucket with gardening tools. “That would be wunderbar. I’d like to look at those pots you were talking about.” Hope smiled, and Lovina saw a light and joy in her sister’s eyes that she hadn’t noticed in a while. “It’ll give me something to focus on. Since I’ve been a complete failure at making vegetables grow in this yard, maybe I’ll do better with flowers in pots.” Hope shrugged. “You can’t eat flowers, but it’s a start.”

  They walked side by side to the pie shop, and nervous excitement stirred in Lovina’s stomach as they approached. The outside had been painted and an awning had been put up. The teens had mowed the grassy area, and all the garbage had been cleared out of the small parking lot. It was starting to look like a real business now, and once the sign was up it would make it even more real.

  Lovina showed Hope the pots, and her sister couldn’t have looked more pleased as she headed to the nursery to get inspiration for what to put inside them. Lovina hurried toward the front door next, and she heard the pounding even before she reached it. Bam, bam, bam-bam. Two hammers, maybe three, worked together in a staccato beat. She listened a moment and then stepped inside. Boards leaned against the wall. Noah was on his knees erecting the white picket fence that would separate the long counter from the seating area. Gerald worked by his side, lining up the pickets for Noah. Noah was so focused on his task that he hadn’t seen her come in. He smiled as he worked, and she was thankful. Thankful for so much—for him, for the good work he was doing, for his ideas, and…and for the love she saw in his eyes every time he looked at her.

  She loved watching him work. Joy overwhelmed her. What did she do to deserve someone like Noah Yoder? Nothing. He was a gift, just as this place was a gift. She continued toward him, and then a sound rose and echoed through the warehouse, causing her to jump. A loud popping sound filled the air. Lovina’s heart pounded inside her and she wondered if she needed to run. But where? She looked around, looked up…wondering where the noise had come from. The sound of small explosions echoed through the spacious building.

  Noah was on his feet, hurrying toward her. “Are you all right?”

  Lovina covered her ears with her hands. “Ja. It was something outside, I think.”

  Noah raced out the door and she followed. He scanned the parking lot and then turned toward his uncle’s house. White, thin smoke curled from the shed and the odor of sulfur pricked her nostrils. Lovina gasped, spotting Mose and Atlee sprawled on the freshly cut grass in Roy’s yard. Mose’s body jerked, and Atlee lay as still as a board. One arm covered his eyes, and his hand lay splayed on his chest. A boulder grew in the pit of her stomach, and her feet seemed fixed to the ground. She wanted to hurry to them, to see what the problem was, but she was afraid of what she’d find.

  “Mose!” Noah raced toward the yard, his boots pounding on the asphalt of the parking lot. “Atlee! Are you hurt?”

  Feeling a rush of adrenaline, she raced behind him. Gerald hung back.

  Entering the yard, Noah sunk down onto the grass and turned Mose over. Mose’s face was red and distorted, and gurgling sounds emerged from his lips. Was this a seizure? Should she go inside and call 911? Lovina caught up, stopping just behind Noah.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” Noah’s voice was frantic.

  A louder sound emerged from Mose’s lips, and she stepped back, confused. It wasn’t a moan of pain but laughter. She turned to Atlee then…and saw that he wasn’t hurt. His shoulders trembled slightly and she guessed it was partly shock and partly an attempt at laughter.

  Lovina stepped into the shed and understood where the loud noise had come from. A remote control car was hooked up to some type of ignition device. Next to it sat a small stack of smoldering, burnt-up fire crackers. Obviously Mose had created a device that caused the firecrackers to go off just as Atlee entered the shed.
/>   “Noah, you need to come look at this,” Lovina called to him.

  Noah released his grip on Mose’s shoulders, pushing him away and causing him to tumble to the grass in another fit of laughter.

  “You should’ve…seen…his face. And…the…dancing jig…” Mose’s words came out in gasps.

  Noah paused next to Lovina, leaning forward slightly to get a better view of the device. He mumbled something under his breath that she couldn’t make out, and his cheeks grew red. The redness moved down his face and onto his neck. Noah balled his hands at his sides, sucked in a deep breath, and then turned.

  “Mose, you’re laughing? Do you think this is funny?” he said through clenched teeth. He stomped over to him, standing above his nephew and looking down on him with disgust.

  More laughter erupted from Mose. “You should’ve seen Atlee’s face!”

  Atlee dropped his arm, opened his eyes and sat up. He took a deep breath and then let it out, still trying to calm his nerves. “I went in the shed to get the weed eater to do the yard.” There was the slightest tremor in his voice. “There was this explosion and the flashes of light. My ears are still ringing. I thought the whole shed was going up.” He placed his hands to his ears and shook his head, trying to stop the ringing.

  Gerald sauntered toward them, arms crossed over his chest, finally joining the group. He seemed neither surprised nor dismayed by the sight of his friends. Mose stood up to his full height and pointed to Gerald, his finger wagging. “It was his idea. He’s the one who told me about it. Admit it, Gerald.”

  Gerald stood still, silent. He sheepishly peered down at his feet. The humor on Mose’s face turned to anger.

  Mose neared his friend, shoulders raised up, neck tight, and eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to say anything? Not going to defend me? Gerald, you always try to be the perfect one. Don’t try to get out of it and pretend it wasn’t your idea. Admit it!”

  Gerald placed his hands on his hips. “I didn’t tell you to do it. I just told you how a friend did it.” His eyes flickered up to Mose and he winced, as if almost expecting the barrage of words to come.

  Instead, Mose reached out, grabbing up Gerald’s shirt in his fist. Noah was in his face in two steps. He gripped Mose’s arm, holding it tight. “Didn’t I tell you I was done with your pranks? I said you could hurt someone. What if that shed had caught on fire? What if Atlee—”

  “Hey, hey!” Mose pulled his arm away and held up his hands. “You told us no pranks at the pie shop. This isn’t the pie shop, Noah. It’s Roy’s yard. And no one was hurt. Nothing was damaged. It was just a joke.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to talk to you.” Noah turned, and then his eyes locked with Lovina’s. They widened, as if for the first time realizing that she was there. “I…I’m sorry, Lovina.”

  She wanted to tell him it was all right. She wanted to laugh and say boys would be boys, but the thing was, these weren’t boys. In the eyes of the world they were wayward youths, but their decisions were anything but innocent. This could have gone so wrong. The whole shed could have gone up. Atlee could have been seriously hurt, and he may have sustained damage to his hearing. And, if it had happened in her shop, well, so much more could have gone wrong. Damage to her shop would cost them. A lot. There was so much at stake. Not only all her funds—her father’s funds—and her reputation.

  Instead of responding to Noah, she turned to Mose. “I wonder if I can trust you. Trust you in my shop. There’s too much at stake.” The words spilled from her mouth. “I can’t risk letting anything happen. We have no insurance. And if my family loses everything…”

  Mose’s anger at Gerald changed to a look of worry. She could tell her words had finally penetrated, and Mose turned from Lovina back to Noah. “Yeah, of course. I—I guess I didn’t think of that.”

  When Noah didn’t respond, Mose looked back to Lovina. “It wasn’t in your shop. I never would’ve done it in your shop,” he said hurriedly. “I just thought it was funny, that’s all.”

  Noah shook his head, not letting Mose get off that easy. “What you do affects every part of you. You can’t be both a careless prankster and a dedicated, trustworthy employee. How you are seen in one area affects how others see you in all areas.”

  “Listen, it was just a joke…” Mose stated defensively again, and then paused. He crossed his arms over his chest. He lowered his head and his face fell. “I’d never do anything to hurt anyone.” His tone was lower now. He looked to Lovina. “And I’d never do anything to hurt your shop.”

  “Not intentionally.” The words were out before she could stop them. Hurt flashed on Mose’s face, and he no longer looked so tough. She pictured him as a scared little boy. “I know you wouldn’t cause damage on purpose, but it could happen more easily than you think.”

  Something flashed in his eyes, as if a memory replayed there, and all the cocky defenses he’d maintained a moment before melted away. There was a story there, she knew. It was clear from his gaze that he’d faced loss—of possessions, of his reputation. Why didn’t teens learn?

  Then again, what had she done to reach out to him? To any of them?

  He’d been around, but she’d never really taken the time to talk to Mose. What was his childhood like? How did he like being in Florida? Did he think he’d stay Amish? She lowered her head, eyeing the freshly mowed grass. This was yet another person she’d pushed to the side in her desire to get the shop open. Had she let the goal of opening her shop get in the way of what really mattered?

  Lovina opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Noah stepped forward. He must have taken note of the same mournful look on Mose’s face because his voice was gentle. “Listen, Mose, can we get away for a few minutes? Can we talk alone?”

  Mose nodded, and Lovina knew she was no longer needed. She’d made her worries known. Now the rest was up to Noah.

  She turned to the other two teens. By the curious looks on their faces, they also seemed to be wondering what they should do next. Lovina cleared her throat and they looked at her.

  “I wanted to hang some antique pie plates. Gerald, Atlee, can you help me get the ladder?”

  “Ja,” Gerald answered.

  “I can help,” Atlee joined in.

  With a small wave to Noah, she turned and walked toward the pie shop. She didn’t envy him. Noah had his work cut out with these teens. And she guessed that dealing with them was harder than trying to remodel a warehouse into a pie shop. Wood and concrete could be molded without shrinking back. You didn’t have to worry about the feelings of building materials. You didn’t have to talk them into complying. They couldn’t walk away.

  Oh Lord, be with Noah and give him the words. She sent up a silent prayer. Mose needed to grow up. He needed to realize that his actions could be serious. But most of all he needed the grace that she herself had received more times than she could count.

  Noah took Mose to Yoder’s for lunch. The place was busy, and he hoped the noise of the room would make it impossible for anyone to eavesdrop on their conversation. More than that, he hoped the food would help. He’d seen his parents use the tactic numerous times. Hard talks were easier to stomach when one had a good meal placed in front of them.

  Lovina’s sister Faith was working, and Noah caught the way she shyly eyed Mose as they walked to their table. She smiled, and Mose attempted to smile in return, but Noah knew she wouldn’t be convinced. The cocky attitude that Mose had earlier had been replaced by a mournful look.

  They both ordered the special—hand-breaded pork chops and creamy country gravy—and then Noah leaned forward, his elbows on the table, as conversations swirled around them.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about today.” Mose took a sip from his Coke. “It was stupid. I see that now.” He lowered his gaze and fiddled with his fork. “And I know you’ll have to talk to my parents…”

  “I not going to tell them,” Noah interrupted. “And I’ll talk to Atlee and Gerald too.


  “Really? So they’re not going to find out?” Mose’s eyebrows lifted, and he looked again like the twelve-year-old boy who used to tag along with Noah at the auction yard. In Amish families, when one has lots of brothers and sisters, attention was craved, and Noah could still see that in Mose now. The thing was, he often sought it in the wrong ways.

  Mose let out a long breath. “I’d never hear the end of it.”

  Noah took a sip of his coffee and then nodded. “Do you think I don’t understand? Growing up Amish, for your whole life you’ve lived by the rules. You’ve been told what to believe and how to act. You not only have your parents watching, but everyone in the whole community. One wrong move and everyone knows. Everyone.”

  Mose looked at him cautiously, as if wondering when the lecture was going to come. Instead Noah continued, trying to help the young man know that he understood, but wouldn’t tolerate such actions again.

  Noah ran his fingers through his hair. “One of my cousins talked me into trying a cigarette once. His older brother kept them stashed under the buggy cushions. We went behind the barn to smoke and we looked around. I was sure that no one could see us. No one.

  “Well, it turned out a neighbor had been in the orchard behind his house, pruning some of the trees. He told his wife. His wife told someone in town. By the time I got home that night my mem already knew. I got sent to bed without supper.”

  Mose tossed his head so that his hair brushed against his forehead. Noah saw the hurt in his eyes. He also knew that even though Mose had messed up today, lecturing him would only push him further away. Besides, Lovina had already made her expectations known.

  Their lunch arrived, and they both ate quickly as if it had been two days, instead of two hours, since breakfast. As Mose sopped up the last of his gravy with a roll, Noah cleared his throat, getting his attention.

  “You know my whole plan in starting over in Florida was to keep you guys connected with the Amish community, but the longer this goes on the more I realize that maybe my focus has been too much on making the Amish life seem appealing. I’ve made a big mistake.”

 

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