Andrew

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  “Probably not.” Mary couldn’t tell if Bitsy agreed or was just humoring her. “But it will be wonderful hard to stay in the community and watch Andrew fall in love with someone like Treva Nelson.”

  “It would be better to leave,” Mary said, “even if everything and everyone I love lives in this small square of Wisconsin.”

  “Oh, little sister, are you sure about that?”

  “That everyone I love is here?”

  “Nae, that it would be better to leave.”

  Mary studied Bitsy’s face. Bitsy could be blunt and she always spoke her mind, but Mary had never heard Bitsy come so close to trying to persuade Mary to do anything. “It wonders me . . .” She bit her bottom lip.

  “Go on. You can’t hurt my feelings.”

  “Ach, Bitsy, my leaving has nothing to do with you.”

  Bitsy scrunched her lips together. “It’s because you think Andrew will never consider loving you.”

  “Jah. He never will. But it’s more than that. You saw them at the haystack supper. I’m not welcome here.”

  “I’m not welcome here either, but most everybody loves me.”

  “Then there are the boys who think that since I’ve had sex, I’m willing and eager to have sex with anyone,” Mary said.

  Bitsy’s expression turned stormy. “Who thinks that?”

  “On Monday, Perry Glick cornered me in the harness shop, trapped me against the wall, and tried to kiss me.”

  Bitsy growled. “Where’s my shotgun? I’m going to pay Perry Glick a visit.”

  “No need. Perry is accustomed to meek Amish girls, and I gave him a shock when I hauled off and slapped him.”

  Bitsy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “I would have liked to see that. I would have liked to see that very much.”

  Mary couldn’t help but smile at the look on Bitsy’s face. “He pressed his hand against his cheek and started whimpering. I marched out of that shop as fast as I could.”

  “I hope his whole face swelled up.” Bitsy looked up at the ceiling again. “Lord, please send Perry Glick a severe case of rectal itch.” Bitsy washed and dried her hands, nudged Farrah Fawcett and Leonard Nimoy off the window seat, and sat down next to Mary. “You must have been terrified.”

  Mary shuddered just thinking about it. “Not terrified as much as angry. Perry thought he was justified in trying to take advantage of me because I’m a sinner or maybe because I’m pregnant out of wedlock or maybe simply because he thought he could get away with it.”

  Once again, Bitsy turned her eyes to the ceiling. “Just so you know, Lord, I’m going over there tonight to egg Perry Glick’s house. Grant me speed and silence.”

  Mary giggled. “I could come with you and bring toilet paper.”

  Bitsy nodded. “We’ll take Yost. He can throw a roll of toilet paper clear over the roof. He has a gute arm.”

  Mary was more confused than ever. How could she leave the best woman she had ever known? How could she leave Andrew when she was just beginning to understand her feelings for him? Maybe she just needed to give the community more time.

  But how could she stay here when there was little hope that anyone would ever truly accept her? How could she go back to a world of acquaintances and strangers, where her morals were as old-fashioned as a horse and buggy and truth was twisted and warped to serve selfish desires? Where no one, not even Josh, cared one whit about a little Amish girl who didn’t fit in anywhere.

  Asking to see Andrew’s tools had been a mistake. A big mistake.

  There would be consequences.

  And tonight, there would be eggs and toilet paper.

  Chapter Ten

  Andrew plopped himself on the porch and quickly laced up his boots. He’d helped clear up the dinner dishes, and now he had a little time to work on his latest project. Mammi wanted everybody in at 7:00 p.m. for family reading time. It was her single-minded goal to fill that bookshelf sitting in the cellar, but it wasn’t easy finding appropriate reading material for her family. She’d taken to buying books off the internet at the library. Mammi must have a secret credit card or something.

  She’d bought Benji and Alfie each a children’s inspiration book, which Benji and Alfie pretended to read every night during family reading time. Mostly they disturbed everyone else by whispering and poking each other. Of course, Andrew didn’t mind being disturbed. Martyrs Mirror was grim and depressing, and Mammi Martha expected him to read it so they could have a discussion about it on off Sundays.

  Andrew had been avoiding the apology he should have made to Treva Nelson three days ago. He should go to her house right now, but he only had one hour before reading time and he wanted to start cutting out Alfie and Benji’s train. He could get one piece done if he was speedy, but he hated to rush anything with the wood.

  “Andrew Petersheim, can I have a word with you?”

  Sol Nelson stood ten feet from the porch with his hands folded across his chest and a firm scowl on his lips. Andrew’s heart sank like a bucket of nails. There would be no working in the shop tonight, and Sol looked a little rigid for someone making a social call. Andrew didn’t have to guess. Sol was here because of his schwester. Oy, anyhow, Andrew should have made that apology at the haystack supper, but he had been determined to stick to Mary like glue so Jerry couldn’t get a chance to flirt with her.

  Treva had stayed at the haystack supper only long enough to tell her pitiful story to everyone, and then she had gone home, Ada had told him, to nurse a migraine. He had gotten the chance to apologize to Ada, such as it was. Ada’s husband, Junior, had stuck his nose in Andrew’s face and told him to stay away from his fraa. Andrew couldn’t blame Junior. He had kind of acted the same way in defense of Mary, though he hoped his breath was fresher than Junior’s. Nothing chased a girl away faster than bad breath.

  All Andrew’s diligence with Mary hadn’t done a lick of good. As soon as the dishes had been washed, Jerry had found her, and Jerry and Mary had strolled down by the stream together while Andrew and Bitsy dried pots and pans. At least they hadn’t sat down together. Andrew was fit to be tied to a train track as it was.

  Maybe Sol would pass on an apology to his schwester. Maybe he would tear Andrew’s hat in half. He looked unwaveringly cross.

  Sol Nelson was slightly taller than Treva but wiry, where his sister was decidedly plump. They had the same pointed chin and dark eyes that flashed with righteous indignation. Treva was always out of sorts with someone or something. Sol seemed mildly irritated about half the time. Sol enjoyed playing volleyball and ping-pong, and he was actually fun to be with when Treva wasn’t around to make sure he got offended about something. Treva was what Mamm called an eggshell person, someone who got her nose out of joint so often, her skin was said to be as thin as eggshells. If a friend didn’t sit by Treva at gmay, she would ignore her for days and tell everyone how misused she had been. Treva’s list of complaints and grievances about her neighbors was long and detailed, and sometimes she got Sol to go along with her.

  Andrew had no doubt that he hadn’t hurt Treva’s feelings as much as wounded her pride. She had been hopping mad, for sure and certain. She had made sure that everyone at that haystack supper had seen her tears and had been told that Andrew Petersheim had been the cause of them.

  “You made my schwester cry,” Sol said, his hands shaking slightly. He obviously wasn’t as confident or as angry as he seemed. “You used to be a gute Christian.”

  Andrew swallowed the irritation that crawled up his throat. He had been in the wrong, and Sol had every reason to expect an apology. “I shouldn’t have said those things to Treva. I’m sorry.”

  Sol raised an eyebrow. “You’re sorry?”

  “Jah. I was angry. He who is angry with his brother is in danger of hellfire.” Or something like that.

  “Okay.”

  Andrew hated to leave it at that, as if Treva hadn’t done anything wrong. His sense of fairness wouldn’t let him turn the other cheek all the way aro
und. “Have you ever heard the parable of the mote and the beam?”

  “Of course. A hundred times at gmay.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be mean. I just told Treva to take care of the beam in her own eye before she tried to fix Mary.”

  “Treva doesn’t have any beams,” Sol said, as if that explained everything.

  “She was mean to Mary.”

  Sol narrowed his eyes. “Treva is trying to help Mary, and you yelled at her in front of everybody.”

  Andrew bit his tongue, but the words came out anyway. “How is humiliation going to help Mary?”

  “Someone must help Mary understand her place. Treva was only trying to help Mary feel some remorse. You told Treva she was a servant of the devil.” Sol was yelling now, and his eyes flashed like lightning. “It was a cruel thing to say, and you don’t know anything.”

  “I know that Jesus said we should love one another.”

  “Love one another?” Sol said. “We all love Mary. We love all sinners.”

  “Then act like it.”

  “Mary doesn’t show any remorse. She acts like she’s happy to be with child, and Perry Glick says she waved at him at the haystack supper, tempting him to join in her wicked ways.”

  Andrew clenched his teeth so hard, he gave himself a headache. How dare Perry Glick say that? He stepped forward until the toes of his boots touched Sol’s. “I will not hear such talk about Mary. Jesus said to love one another.”

  Andrew felt someone brush against his side. “We’ll hate you if you don’t be nice to Mary.”

  Andrew looked down. Alfie stood on one side of him with his hands balled into fists and Benji stood on the other looking concerned and nibbling on his fingernail.

  We’ll hate you if you don’t be nice to Mary, Alfie had said. How ridiculous were he and Sol, standing nose to nose, yelling at each other about love? Everything Mary had told him had evaporated as soon as he had decided it was more important to be right than to be kind. Andrew gazed down at his bruderen. What was he teaching them with his stubbornness?

  Andrew took two steps back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry, Sol.” He laid a hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “We don’t hate anybody.”

  To his surprise, Sol started to chuckle. “We’re a fine pair of Christians, yelling Bible verses at each other like Pharisees.”

  “That’s about right.”

  Benji started in on another fingernail. “Why do you hate Mary?”

  Sol shook his head. “Nobody hates Mary.”

  Andrew tensed briefly before taking a deep breath and remembering what Mary said about flies and honey. Why should Andrew be upset with Sol and Treva? They were all sinners. He shouldn’t condemn them just because they sinned differently than he or Mary did. Maybe their sins were worse than his. Maybe his sins were worse than theirs. Only Jesus knew that. Their job was to love and forgive each other.

  Alfie looked up at Sol as if assessing his guilt or innocence. “If you don’t hate her, then you should treat her better. Treva’s not very nice.”

  Sol’s smile faded. “We’re doing what we think is best for Mary’s soul.”

  Benji drew his brows together. “Are you in charge of her soul?” He looked at Alfie. “Who is in charge of my soul?”

  Alfie scrunched his lips together. “Mamm. She washes our shirts.”

  Sol pressed his lips together, not entirely satisfied with Benji’s innocent question. “We are all in charge of each other,” he finally said. “We have to help each other be good.”

  Benji nodded. “The spatula makes me be good. Do you want to give Mary the spatula?”

  Sol tried a little too hard to laugh, even though Benji hadn’t meant it as a joke. “Nae. Of course not.”

  “She is going to have a buplie,” Benji said, his brows drawn together as if he was thinking very hard about it. “She shouldn’t get the spatula, especially cuz she hasn’t done nothing wrong. She’s real nice. She gave us a bee-sting cake once. And she stubbed her toe.”

  Sol’s expression got darker and more troubled the longer Benji talked. There was nothing like the guileless simplicity of a child to touch someone’s heart. Certainly all the yelling in the world couldn’t do it. “For sure and certain she’s wonderful nice,” Sol mumbled.

  “For sure and certain,” Benji said.

  Alfie wiped his nose on his sleeve. No wonder that shirt was always a mess. “You should be nice to everybody. That’s what Mamm says. Even LaWayne Nelson. He’s mean to the little kids at school, but we have to be nice to him and forgive him when he trips us on the playground.”

  Andrew’s lips twitched sheepishly. LaWayne was Sol’s little bruder. Alfie probably hadn’t even made the connection. Probably. “Why are you boys out here?” Andrew said. “Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning your room?”

  Alfie made a sour face. “Our cellar, you mean?”

  “Jah. Mamm says it smells like something dead down there.”

  “There’s lots of dead things,” Benji said. “Spiders and a whole pile of moths by Alfie’s lantern.”

  Alfie folded his arms and glared at Sol. “We heard you yelling through the basement window.”

  “So we climbed out and came to rescue you,” Benji said.

  Andrew tried not to act alarmed. “You climbed out the cellar window?” If his bruderen could climb out that window, there was no end to the mischief they could get into.

  Alfie turned his glare on Benji. “We wanted to help if Andrew got in a fight.”

  “We weren’t fighting,” Sol said, even though they both knew that wasn’t entirely true. At least their fight hadn’t come to blows, wouldn’t have come to blows. They were smarter than that.

  Once again, Alfie had avoided his question, but Andrew wouldn’t forget. Maybe he should install a lock on the outside of the window so the boys couldn’t escape from now on. Mamm would have a fit if she knew. He messed up Benji’s hair. “Go clean your room. Sol and I will be nice.”

  Alfie wasn’t convinced. “Okay. But yell to us if you need us.” He narrowed his eyes at Sol. “We have some rope.”

  They had rope? Andrew was going to have to go down there and clear out that cellar before the twins caused a flood or burned down the house. Or got arrested.

  They wouldn’t get arrested, would they?

  Andrew wouldn’t take anything for granted after orange smoke, binoculars, and cats in trees. Those boys had resources Andrew couldn’t begin to guess at.

  Alfie started for the corner of the house where the cellar window was. “Nae, Alfie,” Andrew said. “Front door.”

  “Ah,” Alfie groaned. “Mamm will catch us.”

  Andrew pointed insistently at the front door. “It’s safer than going through the window.”

  Benji stood as if unsure whether to side with Alfie or Andrew. “We slid the bookshelf up to the window so we can reach.”

  Alfie shot another glare in Benji’s direction. “We’ll go through the front door and sneak downstairs. Mamm won’t notice.”

  The twins tromped up the steps and paused with their ears against the front door, trying to hear where Mamm was in the house. Alfie nodded to Benji, jerked open the door, and they both rushed inside as if making an escape in reverse. Sol laughed, more naturally this time as he watched them go. His nagging conscience was probably relieved. “The wisdom of a child.”

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry I made Treva cry.”

  “It’s okay. Treva cries at everything. She uses tears to get her way.”

  Andrew motioned for Sol to sit with him on the porch steps. “We may never agree on Mary, but I hope that you and Treva will treat her with kindness.”

  “We will do what we think is best.” He paused. “And it never hurts to be nice. I’ll tell Treva. Maybe she can find another project besides Mary’s soul.”

  Andrew didn’t want to start another argument, but if he could just make Sol understand. “Jesus dined with sinners and publicans. He ministered to sinn
ers. He called them his lost sheep. If we want Mary to stay and be baptized, we should treat her as Jesus would want us to treat her.”

  Sol leaned his elbows in his knees. “Mary’s not going to get baptized.”

  “I hope . . . I think maybe she will.”

  Sol shook his head. “She isn’t going to stay here.”

  “You don’t know that,” Andrew said, even though the doubt rose in his throat like bile. The more time he spent with Mary, the higher his hopes had risen that she might choose baptism. Might choose to stay. Maybe she had come to care for him as he had come to care for her. The dull ache of longing throbbed in the pit of his stomach.

  Did she care for him at all?

  “Mary came back because she needs the gmayna to pay her hospital bills when she has the buplie,” Sol said. “She’s using Bitsy and Yost because she couldn’t fool her own parents into taking her in. As soon as she has that buplie and the gmayna pays her medical bills, she’ll go back to wherever she came from and we’ll never see her again.”

  “The gmayna doesn’t have to pay her medical bills.”

  Sol sighed. “We try to take care of our own. Of course the gmayna will help with money.”

  “And you think that’s why she came back? Because she couldn’t pay for the buplie any other way? You . . . you think she’ll leave?” The words shoved themselves from between his lips.

  “I know she’ll leave. She had no reason to come back unless her boyfriend kicked her out. He is the one who supported her in Green Bay. He kicked her out and she had nowhere else to go. She’s using us to get what she wants.”

  Andrew didn’t want to believe it. Mary had told him she came back because she wanted to have her baby in a place where people loved her. Ach, vell, that hadn’t turned out quite the way she hoped. At least half of Andrew’s neighbors were barely putting up with her. Why did she stay if she found no acceptance here? Was she truly as desperate as Sol thought? And where did that leave Andrew? After she had the baby, would she leave Andrew holding his broken heart in his hands?

  Broken heart?

  Ach. It was as if Alfie threw a grapefruit-sized stone at his head. Would he really be heartbroken if Mary left?