A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

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A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 20

by Rosalind Lauer


  Adam let out a grunt and started brushing Cricket again. “All right, Sadie. Have it your way. But I say this is just another path to trouble.”

  “I’m going to a church.” She tried to tamp down the feeling of hope as she got back to work vigorously brushing Buddy. “How much trouble can a person get in at church?”

  “A lot, when it’s the wrong kind of church with an Englisher fellow. Even if he is the doc’s son,” Adam said, his voice thick with disapproval. “I’m just warning you, Bishop Samuel won’t be thinking it’s okay if he gets wind of it.”

  I’ll just hope and pray that he doesn’t hear about it, Sadie thought, giving Buddy’s mane a brisk rub. At least this time there would be no printed flyers.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Mike’s car topped a hill and the glow of sun in the west blinded him momentarily. He tapped the brakes, dazzled by another amazing sunset, with purple and red clouds peeling from the tantalizing orange in the sky.

  He flipped the visor down to block the glare, then caught sight of himself in the mirror. Part of his hair was sticking up, and he finger-combed it down, all the while trying to keep his attention on the road.

  You’re nervous, Trueherz. Nervous about picking up Sadie. This is like a first date.

  A very strange first date, since they would be driving into Philadelphia and spending the weekend at Gran’s house. After the spate of trouble Sadie had been in recently with the church leaders, he’d been sort of surprised that this trip was a go. But Sadie had told him that her brother Adam was cool with it, and she was eighteen, after all.

  His palms were sweating, and he wiped them on his cargo shorts as he slowed again and turned down the lane toward the King farm. This was a major first, bumping along the gravel drive all the way up to the house. Sadie had told him Amish guys met their girls down at the end of the lane, so he was definitely treading new territory for all concerned here. Although he’d met the Kings through his father’s practice, that was different from arriving as an English guy trying to date Sadie. There were definitely some awkward moments ahead.

  As he rolled closer to the house, he saw a few people sitting at a picnic table on a grassy lawn at the far side of the house. Finishing dinner, it seemed. Teens and kids were tossing a Frisbee, and he recognized Sadie racing along and leaping to catch it. Everyone was barefoot, and a relaxed atmosphere prevailed. Mike pulled in beside two gray carriages and parked the car.

  The panorama of green fields, farm, and Crayola sky that surrounded him could have been the July page of one of those calendars the dry cleaners gave away each year. Lancaster County was a beautiful place. Despite his desire to get away, he could still see that. It was just not the home of his heart.

  “Mike! Over here!” a girl’s voice called.

  He turned and saw Susie aiming the Frisbee at him. “Catch!” She flung it forward, and he ran a few yards up toward the barn to pick it out of the air.

  “Don’t wear Mike out, now,” Sadie said. “He’s got to drive us into the city.”

  “I think I can handle a Frisbee toss.” Mike spun around and backhanded the disk to Simon, who caught it with a gap-toothed grin.

  “Do you want some ice cream, Mike?” asked Mary. Sadie’s oldest sister looked a lot like her brother Adam, with dark hair but smoky hazel eyes where Adam’s were dark. “It’s homemade.”

  “And we froze cherries from our own trees,” one of the younger girls said. Ruthie, he thought her name was. “It’s very delicious.”

  “Maybe a small bowl,” Mike said, looking at Sadie.

  “You go ahead.” She waved him over toward the picnic table. “I’m just going to get my things.”

  “Kumm,” Mary said, leading the way across the lawn. “We’ll get you a bowl of ice cream.”

  As they approached the outdoor table, Adam rose and extended his hand.

  “Mike … I know we’ve met at the office, but have you ever been out to visit us before?” Adam asked.

  Mike shook his hand, knowing that this was an English custom. It was a friendly gesture on Adam’s part, which made Mike relax a little.

  “I was here years ago with my dad. I think Susie was too sick to make the trip, so he made a house call.”

  “Your father has always taken good care of our Susie. Of all of us,” Adam said.

  “Here’s your ice cream.” Ruthie handed up a plastic bowl, her eyebrows wriggling. “I want to see your face when you get a bite of cherry.”

  “There’s chicken left over, too,” Mary called from the far end of the long table. “Are you hungry, Mike?”

  Mike smiled, appreciating the offer. After all, he was the outsider here.

  “I’m good. I had dinner with my parents.” Aware that Ruthie was watching attentively, he put a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and closed his eyes. “Mmm. That is delicious. You get a real burst of flavor.”

  “I told you,” Ruthie said with a satisfied smile.

  “How is your father?” Adam asked. “And your mamm? We always see Celeste working in the office.”

  “They’re both fine, but my grandmother suffered a stroke recently.”

  Adam’s eyes narrowed as he tipped back his straw hat. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “She’s recuperating at home. We’ll be staying at her house in Philly, and I’m really glad she’ll be meeting Sadie. My grandmother, Katherine, has been getting impatient with her lack of progress and the caretakers helping her. Gran calls the day nurse ‘Mousy’ and the night nurse ‘Night Mouse,’ for their lack of spirit and energy. I think Gran is ready to have some company with backbone and spunk.”

  “Sister Sadie has plenty of that,” Adam said. “One day with Sadie, and your grandmother might be asking for Mousy again.” The harsh lines of Adam’s face softened as he almost smiled.

  Mike breathed a little easier, sensing Adam liked him, though there was no ignoring the strain. No matter how you cut it, Mike wasn’t Amish. He took another spoonful of ice cream to fill the awkward silence.

  “So you’re driving off to Philadelphia,” Adam mused. “Going to church on Sunday?”

  “Yes. St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. Sadie wanted to hear the music there.”

  “Ya.” Adam stared off in the distance, one thumb tucked under a suspender. “Did she tell you about the scolding she got from the ministers over that band she was in?”

  Mike’s swallowed a mouthful, but the mashed cherry seemed to stick in his throat. “She did mention that. I was glad to hear things have settled down since then.”

  “She’s not off the hook yet.” Adam turned his head to face Mike, his dark eyes penetrating. “They wouldn’t approve of this trip, you know. Sadie belongs here with her family. She should be out at the games down the road tonight, playing badminton and getting to know young men from the Old Order. From our congregation. Not that I don’t trust you, Mike. But at the end of the day, you’re an Englisher. You know what that means.”

  Mike nodded silently. Yes, he understood that Adam didn’t want him to get involved with Sadie.

  But it was too late for that.

  Sadie was all he ever thought about these days. The air was charged with hope and love whenever she was around. He loved her laugh. He could spend hours talking with her. He even admired her stubborn spirit.

  This trip was more than a good deed from an Englisher. This was his chance to spend some time with the girl he’d fallen for that night when he’d spotted her on the road, scootering home after dark. He’d known that her being Amish would be a problem, so he didn’t allow himself to daydream about it too much.

  But at the end of his day, Sadie was the one he wanted to talk with and share with and laugh with. Sadie was the one.

  “Looks like we’ll have to walk a few blocks,” Mike told Sadie as he circled the block yet again in search of a place to park. Over the years, as the neighborhood had become more and more gentrified, parking had grown tighter, the streets clogged with double-parkers and
service vehicles. With Gran’s condition, Mike worried about how they would get her to a car when she did start going out again. He would talk to his dad about renovating the garage off the back alley to fit his car. It was yet another piece in the big task of overseeing Katherine Trueherz’s care, a responsibility that had fallen on Mike, and he didn’t mind one bit. He truly wanted to help Gran, and he also knew that as long as he was managing Gran’s care, his parents wouldn’t be expecting him to hurry back to Paradise and help out at the clinic.

  That took a lot of pressure off his shoulders. Living here was buying him time before he had to face his own family issues.

  At last they found a spot on Cypress Street. As they walked through the neighborhood of historic churches and narrow streets of homes dating back to colonial times, Mike realized he was nervous about introducing Sadie to Gran. Dear God, please let them connect! He breathed in the cool night air, reminding himself that Gran had been testy since the stroke, but not unreasonable. How could she not love Sadie?

  “Will I get to meet your grandmother tonight?”

  “Absolutely.” Gran would still be awake, even though it was well after nine. “She’s a night owl.”

  “That’s good, because I so want to meet her.”

  And I want you to like her, Mike thought, supporting Sadie as she tripped over the uneven paving stones.

  “Mmm … what a bumpy lane you have. This neighborhood looks old for the city.” She walked slowly, letting her eyes sweep the tree-lined streets. Light pooled in wide arcs around lampposts, and the streets were rutted with cobblestones. “Like a charming old village.”

  “It’s pretty old. This section of Philly was started by William Penn in the late 1600s.”

  “The man that Pennsylvania is named after?”

  “That’s the guy.” He enjoyed seeing the neighborhood through new eyes. Sadie was so different from any girl he’d ever dated. She lived in the moment, which made everything she did spark with energy.

  Mike bounded up Gran’s porch and unlocked the door for Sadie, who held her bundle of clothes close as she entered the vestibule.

  She gasped, eyeing the marble-lined walls. “Mike. It’s so fancy!”

  Closing the door behind them, he looked around the vestibule. “Really? I never thought of it that way. It’s always just been my grandparents’ place. Great banisters for sliding, and a laundry chute that my brother and I had some fun with when we were kids.” Moving past Sadie, he flicked the light switch, and wall sconces lit the way through the parlor.

  “Gran? We’re here!” He suspected that his grandmother and Helen, the night nurse, were back in the sunroom, where Gran spent most of her time these days. “They’re probably in the back, watching television. Hello?” he called again.

  “In here!” came Gran’s scratchy voice. She sat in her favorite chair, her face illuminated by the flicker of the television set.

  “Gran, this is my friend Sadie King.” Mike introduced them, and Gran insisted that Sadie call her Katherine.

  “You caught me at my guilty pleasure,” Gran said. “Reruns on TV Land.”

  “Golden Girls again?” Mike teased.

  “It’s almost over, but let’s turn it off. I’ve seen this one a hundred times.” With her right hand, the good side now, she reached for the remote and pushed the power button. “Come, sit. I’d much rather talk than watch the boob tube. And the Amish don’t watch television, isn’t that right, Sadie?”

  Mike could see that Gran had done some online research.

  “It’s true,” Sadie agreed. “We don’t have electricity.”

  Mike and Sadie crossed to the semicircular sofa that lined the curved walls of the room built in to a turret.

  “Where’s Helen?” Mike asked.

  “She went off to Tahiti to open a surf shop,” Gran said dryly.

  “Really, Gran. Where is she?”

  “Would you believe I fired her?”

  Katherine loved to tease. “Gran …”

  “All right, I sent her home early. I knew you’d be here any minute.” Katherine turned to Sadie, assessing. “They have nurses lurking here all day long, and I’m tired of having them underfoot like little mice. I know I need some assistance, but I’m tired of being doted upon. I want my life back.”

  Mike felt a stab of compassion for his grandmother. Of course she wanted her life back; but it wasn’t going to be as easy as firing the home nursing staff. Despite Gran’s progress, it would take a while until she was steady on her feet and able to perform all the necessary daily tasks.

  “Rehabilitation takes time,” Mike said. He and Gran had been through this territory before.

  “Well, I may not have too much time left, and I don’t want to spend my last days taking orders from mousy nurses.”

  Mike arched one brow. “Your last days? Do you know something I don’t know, Gran?”

  “I understand,” Sadie offered. “I’m not very good at taking orders, either.” She shot a mischievous look at Mike. “If I was more obedient, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “Defiance …” Katherine’s eyes opened wide. “I love it.”

  She turned on the lamp to her right and pointed to a bookshelf near the arched doorway. “Sadie, can you get me a book from that wall? It’s that slender volume in red leather, second-from-the-bottom shelf.”

  “Sure.” Sadie crouched over at the wall of books, letting her fingertips glide over the smooth spines. She seemed small in the high-ceilinged room, her body compact in her denim shorts, T-shirt, and white prayer kapp. “Here it is.” She extracted a slender volume bound in red and peered closely at the cover. “Poetry?”

  Gran nodded. “Dylan Thomas has a wonderful poem about not giving up. Perfect for old folks like me. It’s called, ‘Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night.’ Do you know it?”

  “I don’t think so,” Sadie said, handing Gran the book.

  “I think I studied it in school,” Mike said.

  “Well, everyone should have the delight of hearing Dylan Thomas’s raging wishes.” Gran leafed through the book, then extended it to Mike. “Read for us, Mikey.”

  How like Gran to run the show, Mike thought as he rose and scanned the lines. “I do remember this,” he said, then read the poem aloud. Each stanza repeated a bold warning not to die without giving it a fight, and described how different types of men faced death. Wise men, good men, wild men, and grave men alike tried to resist death, and with each stanza the poet reminded them to “rage against the dying of the light.”

  “Such strong words.” Sadie pressed a hand to her heart, clearly moved. “I can imagine it as a song.”

  “It is lyrical,” Katherine agreed. “But I wanted you to read that, Mike. Consider it insight into my current state of mind. I may seem cranky, but this is the good fight I’m waging every day.”

  “I get it.” Mike nodded. “You’ve certainly been battling it out. Though I’m not so sure I want to encourage you to ‘rage, rage.’ You’re already tough to live with.”

  Gran pursed her lips. “Smarty-pants.”

  The three of them laughed softly, which eased Mike’s heart. When was the last time he’d seen his grandmother laugh? Not since the stroke. Sadie was going to keep his grandmother on her toes.

  Sadie asked for another look at the book, and Katherine told her she was welcome to read it while she was here.

  “There are other poets in there, too. You might like some of them.”

  Sadie thanked her, smoothing a hand over the cover of the book.

  Then Katherine sat up straighter and began to sidle to the edge of the chair. “How about a game before bed?”

  “Do you have Password?” Sadie’s amber eyes opened wide. “Or Scrabble?”

  “Let’s play Scrabble. Bring me my walker, would you, Mike?” Gran leaned forward and Sadie moved to help her rise from the chair.

  “I’ll help.” Sadie took the walker from Mike and positioned it under Katherine. “You can start settin
g up the game, Mike.”

  “Gran, are you sure you can sit at the table that long? I don’t think you’ll be comfortable.”

  Katherine clucked her tongue. “I will ‘rage against the dying of the light.’ ”

  Mike caught a glimpse of Sadie patiently coaching Katherine up. “I’m surrounded by bossy women,” he teased as he turned toward the closet to find the game.

  “I heard that,” Gran called. “Nothing wrong with my ears, you know.”

  In no time he had the game set up at the kitchen table, and Sadie helped Gran navigate there, with a short stop at the bathroom. Mike was impressed by Sadie’s helping demeanor; she was neither impatient nor embarrassed about Gran’s weaknesses, and she listened when Gran described her limitations. Of course, Sadie had spent her childhood dealing with her sister’s illness, and the Amish tended to accept people’s ailments better than the English. Handicaps were regarded with consideration and affection in the Amish community.

  Mike started with the word “keeper,” and Sadie promptly got a whopping score by adding “zoo” to the front of the word.

  “I think we’ve got a ringer here, Mike,” Gran said. “I’m going to have to put my thinking cap on.”

  “Looks that way,” Mike said casually. He was relieved to see Gran hitting it off with Sadie. One fewer obstacle.

  Though there were still many complications and impediments ahead for them. Her family. His parents. The Trueherz medical practice back in Halfway. The scorn of the Amish community.

  Frowning, he rearranged the tiles on his placard, looking for a word. He moved the F to the beginning and put the TH together … and suddenly he had the word “faith.”

  Yeah, baby. Faith was the elixir of life, the blue Jedi light saber, the light at the end of the tunnel. The Bible said that faith was “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

  They would have to hold on to their faith.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Sadie felt as if she had stepped into another girl’s life.

 

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