Alfie turned back. “Do you promise not to tell anybody, Dawdi, even when you learn how to talk?”
Dawdi had never smiled so wide.
* * *
Alfie’s walkie-talkie crackled like a campfire. “Do you see her, Alfie? Pancake.”
Alfie put his mouth right against the front of the walkie-talkie where all the dots were. “Benji, you have to hold down the button all the way before you talk. And you have to say over. Over.” The lady at Walmart told them you had to say over so the person on the other walkie-talkie knew when you were done talking. It hadn’t made sense to Benji. He wanted to say pancake instead because it was more like a secret code word, but how could they be real spies if Benji insisted on saying pancake? He sounded like a little kid.
Alfie shifted on his branch in the tree and tried to see through the binoculars while holding the walkie-talkie to his ear. There was silence on the other end. Now what was Benji doing?
* * *
The Memorial Day auction and bazaar was always a big day for Petersheim Brothers Peanut Butter. Andrew and family spent two solid weeks making peanut butter while also trying to sow the fields and keep the farm going. This year, with Mammi and Dawdi living with them, the days had been even longer and tempers had worn even thinner, especially Mamm’s. She couldn’t very well lash out at Mammi Martha when she was irritated, so she tended to take out her frustrations on her sons and the peanut butter. Andrew didn’t mind it. If yelling at her sons helped Mamm keep her sanity, then let her yell. Andrew loved Mammi Martha, but her rose water was, for sure and certain, a trial.
Andrew and Abraham quickly set up the blue canopy that they’d had specially printed in big vinyl letters: Petersheim Brothers Peanut and Almond Butter. The almond butter had been Austin’s idea. He said it was the new, popular thing to eat among the Englisch. Once the canopy was up, Andrew, Abraham, and Austin set up their tables and arranged several jars of peanut and almond butter on the tablecloths.
“Slide the box under the tablecloth,” Mamm said, fussing like a hen and smiling like a cat. “It looks better if there are levels.” Mamm was in a very gute mood today. She loved market days, and they gave her an excuse to get out of the house. They’d left the grandparents home with Dat. Dawdi wouldn’t have been able to sit through more than a few minutes of the bazaar.
Englisch and Amish alike flocked to the auction every year. The Englisch loved to buy anything Amish. Tourists came from out of state just to see what it was all about. Some Amish didn’t like the tourists. They tended to be nosy and tried to take photos when they thought no one was looking. But tourists spent money, and like Mamm said, there was nothing wrong with that.
Something bright caught Andrew’s eye, and his stomach churned as he turned to see Mary Coblenz in a sunny yellow dress, looking more pregnant than ever, pulling a wagon full of honey jars. She was as pretty and as appealing as the first time he’d seen her, as if she was a magnet that pulled Andrew into her orbit.
He shook his head to clear it. He shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts about a pregnant girl. Mary was the one who should be ashamed. She should be sitting quietly at home reading the Bible and thinking upon her sins. She was going to make a lot of people uncomfortable today just by being here. Didn’t she have any consideration for the feelings of others?
Andrew furrowed his brow. Bitsy and Yost Weaver trailed behind Mary empty-handed, with apparently nothing better to do than to let someone in her condition pull the heavy load. She was going to hurt herself, or possibly the buplie.
He took two steps toward her before he saw Junior and Ada Herschberger out of the corner of his eye. Ada and Junior didn’t look as if they were selling anything at the bazaar today. Maybe they were just here to buy. Ada said something to her husband and pointed in Mary’s direction, her eyes alight with indignation and . . . what was that emotion on her face? A gaping hole opened up in Andrew’s stomach. Ada’s expression looked almost gleeful, as if she rejoiced in Mary’s sinful ways—or rejoiced in being better than the pregnant girl who’d come crawling back to the community. Ada’s brother Perry Glick stood nearby, and he turned to stare at Mary as she walked past.
Bruder and schwester Sol and Treva Nelson were under the next canopy over helping their dat with his wooden baskets and Amish trinkets the Englisch liked so much. Treva nudged Sol with her elbow, and Andrew was close enough to hear her outrage. “How dare she show up here, as if she hadn’t done nothing wrong?”
Sol froze when he saw Mary, as if, like Andrew, he wasn’t sure what he should do, then he looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen her.
Treva didn’t notice Sol’s hesitation. “Does she think she has as much right to be here as decent people?” She smirked. “Because she’s not decent people.”
Heat traveled up Andrew’s neck. He didn’t know if he was more embarrassed for Mary or Treva. For sure and certain Mary had heard her. Treva had said it loud enough to carry into the next county. Maybe he didn’t need to feel sorry for Mary. She had made the choice to come to the auction, and she had to expect that people were going to treat her like this.
Andrew pressed his lips together. Whether or not she deserved it, Andrew bristled at the looks people gave Mary and the whispered conversations that were taking place in plain sight. It seemed cruel and not at all what Jesus would do.
It was too much to hope that Mary hadn’t noticed the disdain that was as thick as mosquitoes in springtime. Her steps faltered briefly as she scanned the crowd for a friendly face. Thank Derr Herr, she couldn’t see Andrew lurking in the shadows of his canopy. She glanced behind her at Bitsy, who gave her a reassuring nod. Mary squared her shoulders and marched on, as if she was one of the martyrs going to her own execution.
Andrew took a halting step back. Would people think he approved of Mary if he helped her with her honey wagon? Would they whisper about him behind their hands and assume that he was a sinner because he’d helped? Every muscle in his body pulled taut as he balled his hands into fists and watched Mary drag that wagon over the dirt and through the gauntlet of disdainful gazes and scornful church members. What should he do? And why did his heart ache for a girl he barely knew and didn’t want to have anything to do with?
To his utter relief and shame, his bruder Benji appeared right in Mary’s path wearing no hat and a wide grin. Andrew was too far away to hear what Benji said to her, but he reached out his hand and took the handle of the wagon. Mary shook her head, but Benji smiled up at her and flexed his muscles. Mary’s laughter tripped lightly over the breeze, and Andrew thought it was the happiest sound he’d ever heard. She pointed to one of the canopies a few hundred feet away, took Bitsy’s arm, and let Benji lead the way. The wagon really was heavy. Benji strained to get it rolling but did okay once it was moving.
Andrew wanted to burst his buttons and then crawl under a rock. His eight-year-old bruder had shown more Christian kindness today than Andrew had ever seen and had made Andrew ashamed that he hadn’t had the courage to do it first. No matter what Mary had done, he should have acted like a Christian. Benji was going to get as much ice cream as he wanted today, and Andrew didn’t care if it ruined his dinner.
Andrew couldn’t tear his gaze away as Benji pulled that wagon all the way to Bitsy’s honey tent. Benji pulled a tiny, crushed wildflower from his pocket and gave it to Mary, who smiled as if he’d given her the world. Andrew could have had that smile, if he wanted it—which he didn’t.
The sensation of warm syrup spread through Andrew’s chest when Hannah and Mary Yutzy practically raced to Bitsy’s honey tent and each gave Mary an enthusiastic hug. Hannah and Mary were the best kind of girls—maybe a little too loud—but friendly and kind to everyone, even pregnant girls who shouldn’t have come today.
Neither Mamm nor his other bruderen had seen what had happened. Austin, who was the most excited about peanut butter, was laying crackers out on a plate while Abraham scooped samples of peanut butter into bowls so people could taste. Abraham seemed di
stracted by something across the way and accidentally dribbled some peanut butter on the tablecloth. Mamm swiftly wiped it up.
“Sorry, Mamm,” Abraham said.
Mamm tossed the paper towel in the garbage. “No harm done. There’s bound to be spills before the day is through.”
She was in a good mood. Of course, Mamm was never as hard on Abraham. She didn’t need to be. He was always so hard on himself.
“Mamm?” Benji wriggled between Andrew and Abraham, laid his hands flat on the table, and studied the identical jars of peanut butter as if deciding which one he wanted to buy. “Can I have a jar of peanut butter?”
“Your hands better be clean, young man, or get them off my tablecloth.”
Andrew glanced at Benji’s hands. There was black dirt under every nail, a scab on one of his index fingers, and blood seeping from under his thumbnail. Benji snatched his hands from the table and put them behind his back. “Mamm, can I have ajar of peanut butter?”
Mamm lifted an eyebrow. “You want ajar of peanut butter?”
“Jah. I want to give my friend a taste.”
Mamm shook her head. “Oh, no, young man. I’m not wasting a whole jar of peanut butter so your friend can have a taste. You’ll have to buy one like everybody else.”
“But I don’t have any money,” Benji said. To his credit, there wasn’t even a hint of a whine in his voice.
“Then your friend will just have to imagine what our peanut butter tastes like.”
“But I want them to taste it.”
“Bring him over here, and he can have a sample.” Mamm held up her index finger. “One sample. That’s all. And don’t bring twenty hungry boys. One friend, one sample.”
“But, Mamm . . .”
Andrew suspected he knew who Benji’s “friend” was, and he still owed Benji his gratitude. “I’ll buy Benji a jar,” he said, fishing in his pocket for the twenty-dollar bill he had there.
Mamm shrugged. “It’s your money.”
Benji looked up at Andrew and there was so much happiness in his face, Andrew couldn’t help but smile. He gave Mamm the money, she gave him his change, and Mamm let Benji pick which jar he wanted, which took way longer than it needed to since they were all the same. With jar in hand, Benji shoved his way past his bruderen in the direction of Bitsy’s honey tent. Maybe Mary would be impressed with their peanut butter. Maybe she wouldn’t. It didn’t matter to Andrew.
After twenty minutes of selling jars of peanut butter, Andrew got curious about Benji. Why hadn’t he come back yet? Where was Alfie? Did Mary like the peanut butter? He’d better at least check on his bruder to make sure he wasn’t making a pest of himself with Bitsy. “Mamm,” he said, “I’m going to have a look around.”
“Be back for the lunch rush.”
Many of the Amish and some of the tourists bought a block of cheese or a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter to eat for lunch. People always wanted their smaller jars for lunch.
Andrew stepped out from under the shade of the canopy and tightened his jacket around him. It was only Memorial Day, and the air was still a little chilly. The auction would be going on all day in the big field to the west. They sold everything from livestock to farm implements to quilts.
Andrew glanced in the direction of Bitsy’s canopy. Bitsy was there with her husband, Yost, and two of her nieces, but Mary and Benji were gone. Andrew strolled to Bitsy’s canopy, trying not to act too eager. Benji shouldn’t be alone with Mary. She was a bad influence.
Ach, vell, Mary didn’t seem like a bad person, but Andrew didn’t want Benji getting any ideas about marriage and babies and what order they were supposed to come in. It might confuse Benji that sin could wear a pretty face and seem perfectly nice even when it wasn’t. Benji needed to understand that wickedness made you miserable, and Mary didn’t seem miserable at all. It was too much for one little boy to sort out.
Andrew ducked into Bitsy’s canopy. Her niece Poppy had a small child in her arms and was expecting another one. Rose, the youngest Christner schwester, was also expecting, and it looked to be any day now. What was it about Bitsy and expectant mothers? Did she collect them like stamps?
“Hello, Andrew,” Rose said. She was practically glowing.
“Hello, Rose. How’s Josiah doing?”
“He’s growing some sunflowers this year, if you’re interested. Mashed sunflower seeds make a gute spread.”
Andrew nodded. Mamm might be interested, but Andrew definitely was not. He needed less nut butter in his life, not more. “Bitsy, have you seen Benji?”
Bitsy was making faces at the toddler in Poppy’s arms. Her hair was purple today and there was a tattoo of a daisy on her neck. “He and Mary went to buy a pretzel. They took a jar of honey and a jar of peanut butter with them.”
That might be relatively harmless, but Benji shouldn’t get attached to Mary. “Okay. Denki.” Andrew turned to look for the pretzel stand. He could peel Benji from Mary’s side and give him a lecture about not hanging out with unsavory individuals.
Bitsy stood up straight and eyed Andrew as if she’d just now noticed him. “You’re nice enough, Andrew Petersheim, but sometimes you should look past the end of your nose.”
Andrew frowned. He didn’t understand half the things people said to him nowadays. “Okay,” he said, because everybody knew Bitsy was odd.
Bitsy waved her hand in no direction in particular. “Benji and Mary went that way. I hope you find them.”
He walked in the direction of the heavenly smell of pretzels, but Mary and Benji weren’t anywhere to be seen. Andrew stood with his thumbs hooked around his suspenders and surveyed the crowd. Where had they gone?
A small body crashed into him and knocked his breath away. “Alfie, watch where you’re going. What’s the big hurry?”
Alfie snatched Andrew’s hand. “You’ve got to hurry. Benji and Mary are sitting over there at the picnic table. I told Benji he was supposed to stay away from Mary, and he said he didn’t care if he got all sorts of ideas because you couldn’t stop him.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. That ungrateful little trickster. After Andrew had bought him a whole jar of peanut butter, no less. “Show me.”
Alfie pulled him around the back of the Yutzys’ pretzel and donut stand where six or seven picnic tables sat under a stand of trees. Mary and Benji sat at the farthest table eating a pretzel. Andrew would deal with Benji right quick.
He strode toward the table but had second thoughts about halfway there. He didn’t want to offend Mary, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Maybe she’d had enough pain for one day. All he had to do was sit and wait for Benji to finish his pretzel and then casually coax him from Mary’s table and back to the Petersheim Brothers Peanut Butter canopy. Nothing could be easier. Mary wouldn’t suspect a thing.
She looked up as he approached, with the guarded expression she’d worn the last time they’d parted. Well then. How did she expect people to react to her? She was the one who was pregnant. He’d done nothing wrong.
Benji’s back was to Andrew. “You take a piece of pretzel,” Benji said, tearing off a section of the pretzel that sat between them on the table. “Then you dip it in the peanut butter and then the honey, like this.” With those grimy hands, Benji dipped the pretzel into the open jar. It came out thick with peanut butter. Then he dipped it into the honey. Some of the peanut butter got left behind in the honey jar, but Mary didn’t seem to notice. She also didn’t seem to notice the sticky, gooey honey trickling down Benji’s hand as he handed Mary his messy pretzel concoction. She popped it into her mouth without even stopping to consider where those hands had been.
“Mmm,” she said, closing her eyes and savoring her mouthful. “Appeditlich. I love crunchy peanut butter.”
“We make creamy too. Alfie likes creamy. I like crunchy.”
Alfie pulled Andrew to sit next to Benji at the picnic table across from Mary. Then Alfie went around the table and sat next to her. “Are you on
e of the Honeybee Sisters now?” he asked. “Because we’re called the Peanut Butter Brothers. It’s like we’re family.”
“I like that,” Mary said. She tore off two pieces of pretzel and handed one to each of the twins. “Try it.”
Benji and Alfie dug right in, making sure they got generous helpings of peanut butter and honey before popping the pretzels into their mouths.
Mary ripped off a bigger piece and held it out for Andrew, smiling at him as if she harbored no ill will toward him. “Do you want to try it?”
He scrunched his lips to one side. “I don’t think so. I can guess where Benji’s hands have been.”
She clicked her tongue at him. “Dirt gives it extra flavor. Don’t be such a scaredy-cat.”
He grunted. “I’m not going to risk a stomachache just to prove my manhood.”
“Come on, Andrew,” Benji said. “It’s really good with Honeybee Sisters honey.”
Mary daintily dipped the pretzel into the peanut butter and honey, then leaned over the table. “Open up.”
Completely disarmed and more than a little unnerved, Andrew opened his mouth, and Mary stuffed the pretzel into his mouth. His pulse quickened, and he could hear his heartbeat inside his head. No wonder his first impulse was to avoid her. Mary Coblenz felt like trouble—right down to his bones.
He stood so fast, he cracked his knee on the table leg. Ignoring the pain, he said, “It’s time to go back. We’ve got to help Mamm with the lunch rush.”
Benji stuffed another piece of pretzel into his mouth. “Thust a bimute, Anbew.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Yep, he was definitely turning into his mater.
Alfie grabbed Mary’s hand. “We can’t go back yet. We have to show Mary something.”
Andrew tried to subtly massage his knee while Mary wasn’t looking. “You can show her another time. We have to get back.”
Alfie was already on his feet, pulling Mary along with him toward one of the bigger tents. Alfie and Benji were oblivious to the sideways glances and veiled hostility that followed them as they walked alongside Mary, each holding one of her hands. How many steps behind could Andrew walk without being rude? He didn’t want people to get the wrong idea about him and Mary. He didn’t want people to get any idea about him and Mary. They certainly weren’t friends. They weren’t even really acquaintances. Surely people knew him well enough to know he’d never associate with someone like her—so obviously wicked and shamelessly unrepentant.
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