by Alison Stone
Sarah’s mother was the first to get up from the couch. “Oh, Mary Ruth, you shouldn’t have.” Her mother lifted the lid on the dish and drew in a deep breath. “But we’re so glad you did.” Her mother set the dish on the table and grabbed three plates from the cabinet.
Leaning heavily on the arm of the couch, Sarah stood and carefully checked her weight on the sprain. It was definitely getting better. A tiny headache pulsed behind her eyes. Christina had said that was to be expected with a concussion. Sarah was also supposed to limit screen time, but staring at a blank wall was driving her crazy. When the TV started to bother her, she’d shut her eyes.
Mary Ruth strolled back to the door as if to leave.
“You have to join us,” Sarah’s mother said. “We enjoy your company.”
Mary Ruth lifted her hand. “I really shouldn’t.”
“Do you have plans?” Sarah grabbed a few forks out of the drawer.
“No, but...”
“No, but nothing. Join us. My mother and I love your company.”
Mary Ruth’s face lit up. “I enjoy spending time with you, too.” Then her voice grew soft. “I’ve been arguing a lot with my parents lately. It’s easier for me to stay away because when I’m home, they’re pestering me about talking to the bishop about baptismal classes.” She tugged at her bonnet strings. “They question my choice in friends.” Mary Ruth met Sarah’s gaze.
Sarah’s heart sank. “I wish they didn’t feel that way. But I understand. Please let them know I respect your Amish ways and would do nothing to offend you.”
Mary Ruth waved her hand and laughed. “Sometimes they think the Amish can do no wrong. But you and I know better.” Sarah and Mary Ruth locked eyes. They had heard a lot at the group meetings from some of the Amish youth. Many things that would make the bishop question if they’d ever be ready for baptismal classes.
“All people make mistakes. All people deserve the opportunity to turn their lives around.” Something niggled at the back of Sarah’s brain. “In order to help people, we have to make sure what they tell us is kept in confidence.”
Mary Ruth’s face flushed bright red against her white bonnet. “I would never gossip about what goes on at the meetings at the church.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” Sarah softened her tone. “But sometimes we don’t think much of telling one person, who then tells another.” She shrugged. “You know how it goes.”
Mary Ruth got a worried look in her eyes that made Sarah uneasy.
“Is everything okay?” Sarah asked, feeling the tips of her fingers tingle.
“Yah, fine.” Mary Ruth opened the cabinet and got out glasses. She had spent a lot of time here lately. “I worry that my parents will forbid me to continue helping you.”
“What do you want to do, honey?” Maggie asked.
“I enjoy helping Sarah. Some of the Amish might not come to the meetings if I wasn’t there. They’d be intimidated, or maybe think they were doing something wrong.”
“Try to talk to your parents, and ultimately, you’re an adult. Do what you feel is right,” Sarah said, knowing that wasn’t being truly fair. The Amish weren’t brought up to do what they felt was right for themselves. They were taught to live with the community in mind.
With the final dinner preparations complete, they gathered around the table and said a silent prayer. Sarah took a bite of mashed potatoes and smiled. “I don’t know what you put in these potatoes, but they’re wonderful.”
“They sure are,” her mother said. “It makes me miss cooking.” Her mother made a thoughtful expression, which meant she was up to something.
“What is it, Mom?”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to host a picnic? I’d love to have corn on the cob, grilled chicken, fresh salad.”
“You need to rest, Mom.”
Her mother waved her hand in dismissal. “I feel great. I don’t know if it’s the country air or just knowing I don’t have the burden of taking care of my home. I have the energy. I want to do this. Now, while I can. It would be a nice way to thank Mary Ruth and our neighbors for all their thoughtfulness while you’ve been laid up.”
Sarah slowly flexed her ankle, testing to see if it still hurt. She had been a good patient and had been resting it. “I can help.”
“I don’t need help.” Her mother smiled, transforming her face. “Let’s do this.”
Maggie’s enthusiasm was contagious. As a social worker, Sarah knew that having a goal and something to look forward to often helped patients to maintain a positive outlook. A sense of shared enthusiasm had her grinning. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Her mother leaned over and planted a kiss on Sarah’s forehead. “I’m so excited.” She beamed, and Sarah tried to memorize the moment.
“Now, tell me, where can I find pen and paper? I want to make a list.”
Sarah patted her mother’s hand. “First, eat.”
Mary Ruth lifted her glass in a quasi toast. “I can help with the picnic, too.”
* * *
Nick came to the house earlier than usual that night, and he and Sarah went out onto the porch to talk.
“I’m not sure this picnic is such a good idea,” Nick said, watching the sun dip low over the horizon. At times like this, he understood why his parents left the city and moved to the country. Nature could be spectacular.
Sarah leaned her head back on the rocking chair and sighed heavily. “My mom’s excited. I don’t want to take this away from her.”
“We don’t know what Jimmy’s up to or if he’s paid someone to harass you.” Nick had contacted his friend who was doing him a favor by keeping tabs on Jimmy, and he reported back that Jimmy hadn’t left the Buffalo area. The obvious answer was that Jimmy had paid someone to harass Sarah. Or, even more perplexing, someone altogether different had it out for her. Neither Sarah nor Nick wanted to believe their Amish friends would go to such lengths to hurt her.
Sarah leaned forward and glanced back at the house. Lowering her voice, she said, “I’m not going to let Jimmy take every little bit of joy out of our lives. My mother’s time is limited. We’re not going to stay locked up in the house for fear that Jimmy might or might not show up.”
Nick ran his hands back and forth across the arms of the wooden rocker. She had a point.
“You’ll be there, right?” Sarah angled her head up at him and smiled. “You’ll protect us.” The way she said the words—half serious, half dreamy—warmed his heart.
Nick couldn’t help but smile at her eager face. He reached out and ran the back of his knuckle across her soft cheek. Her face flushed a soft pink. He pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry.”
Sarah surprised him and reached out and touched his hand. “I’m not.” She lifted her hand and touched his face. She grew serious.
Nick’s heart raced, and he leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her soft lips. He pulled away and studied her face. She blinked slowly, then a small smile graced her lips. He immediately wanted to kiss her again, but used restraint.
“So,” she said playfully, “does this mean we’re going to have a picnic?”
He raised an eyebrow. How could he say no to Sarah?
* * *
The day of the picnic was one of those glorious days in Western New York that made up for the months and months of winter with its cold temperatures and gigantic parking-lot snow piles. The sunshine and low humidity made living in this part of the country totally worth it.
Sarah stood in the doorway, holding a casserole dish she had just taken out of the oven. They couldn’t have asked for a better day weather-wise. Her mother sat, head tipped in conversation with Miss Ellinor and Pastor Mike, on the wicker set they had moved from the front porch onto a patch of shaded lawn in the back. Maggie had a purple bandanna wrapped around her head. Her hair was
slowly growing back now that she had stopped doing chemo.
Don’t think about cancer today. Today is a celebration of summer. Of life.
The hiss of meat hitting the hot grill snapped her attention toward Nick, who stood at the fire with a fork in his hand. He looked comfortable at his station, as if he belonged there. At this house. With her. Neither had discussed their second kiss over a week ago, and it seemed like he was trying to avoid her. His last girlfriend must have really done a number on him.
Yet, he still came to her home late at night and left early in the morning, spending the night on the lumpy cot in the small room off the kitchen.
Her protector.
A warm breeze kicked up and blew a strand of hair across Sarah’s face and tickled her nose. She didn’t have a free hand to tug it away.
“Here, let me get that for you.” Nick had put aside his grilling fork and took the casserole dish from her. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, and the memory of their kiss made her skin flush.
“Thank you.”
Nick placed the dish on the table with the rest of the food. “The chicken’s almost done.”
“Great,” Sarah said, suddenly not sure what to do with herself.
“Hey, I’m starving,” Maggie called from across the yard. “What are you slowpokes doing?”
Sarah’s heart filled with joy. Her mother really seemed to be doing well today. On days like this, she really missed her father. He should have been allowed to grow old and been there for his family.
Nick took the chicken off the grill and set it on the table, buffet style. The brothers, Ruben and Ephram, had lugged the long table from their barn. The Amish were well practiced at hosting a lot of people for meals. Every other week, one Amish family hosted the Sunday service and a meal afterward.
Christina and Mary Ruth strolled over to the table and sat down. The Zook family, minus their father, Amos, who was away at an auction, played a powder-puff game of volleyball. Temperance and Ephram against the younger siblings, Ruben and Patience. Mostly it seemed to be about letting Patience win. Sarah smiled, realizing some things were universal regardless of the cultural differences.
Sarah hoped that maybe Ruben and Mary Ruth could learn to be cordial, friends even. It was a small town, yet she hadn’t noticed them talking. It was more a game of sticking to opposite sides of the yard.
“Does anyone need a fresh drink before we sit to eat?” Nick called. Before Sarah had a chance to take over, Nick walked away to collect the orders. Christina looked up at Sarah from the other side of the table. “I’ve never seen my brother look so happy.”
Sarah tried to keep from smiling like the fool she was and sat down on the bench across from Nick’s sister. “I was thinking the same thing about my mother.” Instinctively, she changed the subject, uncertain of how to respond to what Christina had said. It didn’t seem right that she could possibly make a man like Nick happy. He could have had any woman and certainly someone with far less baggage than she carried around.
“Your mother does seem happy.” Christina lowered her voice and cut her gaze toward Maggie, who was still happily entertaining the pastor and his wife. Lola sat at her feet and enjoyed pats on the head from all of their guests. “Please don’t hesitate to contact me if she gets uncomfortable. We can adjust her meds. There’s a lot that can be done to make sure she remains pain-free.”
Sarah nodded, unable to find the words. Every time she thought of her mother’s illness taking over her body, a hollowness expanded inside her chest and crushed her lungs.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up right now.” Christina reached between the tray of chicken and Miss Ellinor’s famous potato salad and took Sarah’s hand. “And don’t think I didn’t notice how you deflected the topic of my brother.”
Sarah furrowed her brow in mock confusion.
“My brother really likes you. Don’t do anything to hurt him, okay?” Christina’s breezy tone held a hint of warning.
A knot twisted in Sarah’s stomach. “I would never do that. Not intentionally. But you know my situation. I may have to leave Apple Creek.” And Nick.
“My brother would never tell you this, but his last girlfriend broke his heart. Really broke his heart.” Sarah knew more than she should have thanks to Miss Ellinor.
Sarah tracked Nick as he walked across the yard, stopping to talk to her mother. He seemed at ease and comfortable in jeans and a golf shirt. Man, he is handsome.
“I have a hard time believing someone would do that to a guy like Nick.” Sarah’s gaze snapped to Christina’s, and heat flooded her face, wondering why she kept talking.
“He has a good heart. Sometimes I think women want the bad boy. Outwardly, he may look like a bad boy, but he’s not.” She shrugged. “Amber broke up with him when he was overseas. Talk about low. Before he left, he had told me he could see being with her long-term.” Christina pulled her hand away and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Anyway, I probably shouldn’t tell you all his business. It’s his story to tell. But he’s my big brother and I love him and I see how he looks at you...”
Sarah ran her hand across the back of her neck, suddenly aware of every inch of her skin. Before she had a chance to say anything, Nick strolled over to them and handed each of them a soda. His gaze slid from his sister and then to Sarah. “What? Did I interrupt something?”
“Um...” Sarah let the word trail off.
Christina spoke up. “Sarah was saying how nice it was to have a man cook dinner for her.”
Nick crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I wasn’t cooking. I was manning the grill.”
Sarah hitched an eyebrow. “Either way, the chicken looks great.”
Nick’s focus drifted to his sister. “I thought maybe you’d bring a date. Isn’t it about time?”
Christina had been in the middle of taking a long swig of her soda, and she nearly spitted it out. “Way to get right to the point, big brother.” Sarah had never seen the confident doctor blush before.
“Can’t let one bad relationship stop you from finding another,” Nick said, watching his sister carefully.
“Nice to know you take your own advice.” Christina gave her big brother a wicked grin, then turned to wink at Sarah.
“See, this is what she does. When she doesn’t want to discuss her lack of social life, she turns it around on me.” Nick playfully tugged a loose strand of his sister’s hair.
“You asked for it.”
Sarah smiled at the exchange. Growing up an only child had some advantages, such as having the sole attention of her parents, but she never enjoyed the camaraderie of a sibling. A sibling would be a wonderful asset right now as she dealt with her mother’s health crisis.
Dread whispered across her brain. When Mom dies, I’ll be all alone.
Just as Sarah’s thoughts were traveling down a dark path, she noticed Patience tearing across the grass toward her home, her long dress flapping around her legs. “Dat’s home. Dat’s home!” Across the field, Amos climbed out of his wagon, and he seemed to be looking—glowering actually—in her direction.
Sarah stood and called to Ruben, who was still standing near the volleyball net. “Invite your father over. There’s plenty of food.”
All the color seemed to drain from Temperance’s face. “It wonders me if it’s not time we went home. Amos must be tired from his day, and he’ll be looking for a quiet meal.”
Maggie’s face fell. “Oh, don’t run off. We have all this food.”
“I’m afraid we must.” Something in Temperance’s tone and rushed movements unnerved Sarah.
“Is everything okay?” Sarah asked, her attention shifting back to Amos, who worked with jerky movements to unhitch their horse from the wagon.
Temperance studied the ground for a moment before looking up
. “Amos isn’t very social. He likes to eat at home.”
“That’s a shame,” Maggie said, her tone resigned.
Sarah smiled at her mother, feeling her disappointment. But Sarah also understood Temperance. She and Amos had a traditional Amish relationship where the wife deferred to the husband. Of course, every Amish relationship wasn’t the same, but theirs was very traditional.
“May the children stay and eat?” Maggie asked, hope radiating from her bright eyes.
Temperance bit her lower lip. Ephram stepped forward and tipped his straw hat. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid we should go.”
Sarah felt Nick’s hand on the small of her back and did her best not to lean into him. As much as she wanted to.
Sarah’s gaze drifted to Mary Ruth, who sat quietly eating with a blank expression on her face. It was a shame Mary Ruth and Ruben didn’t have much time to reconcile, even if only for friendship’s sake.
The glorious afternoon had definitely shifted in mood.
“Who’s going to have some of my potato salad?” Miss Ellinor walked over to the table and grabbed a sturdy disposable plate. God love Miss Ellinor.
“You know I’ll have some.” Pastor Mike accepted the plate his wife offered him.
Sarah looked up at Nick and fought back the tears. Her mother had been so excited about hosting a big picnic, and here it was falling apart.
A soft breeze picked up and the tiny hairs on her arms prickled to life. A horrible sense of foreboding weighed on Sarah’s heart. A foreboding that seemed far too unreasonable for a picnic cut short.
ELEVEN
Nick carried a tray of dishes into the house and set them down on the counter next to the sink.
“Thanks.” Sarah grabbed a dish and submerged it in the soapy water.
The sounds of a sitcom floated in from the other room. Nick poked his head in to see Maggie on the couch with her feet up on an ottoman. “Great picnic, Maggie.”
She gave him a tired smile. “It was too bad the Zooks had to leave so soon, but I had a wonderful time all the same. Your sister is such a lovely girl. I’m blessed that a doctor of her caliber is right here in Apple Creek. She takes good care of me.”
