by Gail Sattler
18
Brian wiped his hands on a rag and shoved the rag into his back pocket. “Goondach. Good morning. I see you have finally brought your car in for an oil change. It is past time for this.”
Standing beside his car, Chad perused Brian’s shop. From the outside, it looked just like any other gas station with a garage attached, except for the height of the garage. Up until recently it had been mostly empty every time he’d been by, which hadn’t been often. Now some kind of large farm machine took the place of what, in any other auto shop he’d been to, normally would have been a car.
He probably should have wondered how it got here, but in this place, people took no notice of a combine ambling down Main Street.
Chad stroked the hood of his car gently, then turned back to Brian. “I guess I’m overdue for an oil change if you’re looking at months, although I certainly haven’t put many miles on her since I got here. You’re a fully registered licensed mechanic, right? I’ll need to keep the receipt in case I ever need to get anything done under warranty. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, how does one do a warranty on a combine? Instead of miles, do they count it by the bushel?”
“En schnoddanas. Smart aleck,” Brian muttered under his breath, but Chad still heard him.
Thinking of writing down the mileage for the oil change, Chad smiled. Since he walked to work, to church, and most regular weekly activities, and the only large grocery store in town was less than a mile away, he didn’t do much driving. He’d put more miles on the car the weekend he went to Minneapolis to pack up his apartment than in the rest of the six months he’d been living here. In the dead of winter, there were times he didn’t start the car for over a week. Now that it was nearly summer, it hadn’t changed. The only regular use of his car was to take Anna’s mother grocery shopping. He just no longer needed to scrape the windows to do it.
Brian opened the driver’s door and flicked the lever to release the hood latch, but instead of walking to the front of the car, Brian slid inside to sit behind the steering wheel. He ran his hands over the hard plastic and looked up at Chad. “This is a very nice car. I have been waiting for you to bring it in for a tune-up so I may check how it runs. Maybe I will take it for a test drive.”
The thought of anyone here driving his car nearly caused Chad to break out into a cold sweat. Brian was one of the few people who actually owned a vehicle—an older pickup truck—but Chad had never seen it running. It seemed permanently parked behind Brian’s garage and looked like it hadn’t moved for a very long time. Like everyone else in town, Brian walked wherever he went.
Chad forced himself to smile. “You just want to drive my car so you can impress the chicks.”
Brian frowned, and his brows knotted. “I do not have chickens. I do not know why you think a car would impress chickens. I hope you do not put your chickens in your car. I think it would frighten them.”
“No, not chicken, chicks. Girl chicks. As in, impress the ladies. Do you have a lady you haven’t told me about who you’d like to impress?”
Brian grinned. “No, there is no lady I wish to impress. I just wish to drive your car.”
Chad sucked in a deep breath. There probably wouldn’t be a better time. He couldn’t have asked for a better lead-up. “In, uh, the cities, having a car like mine usually impresses the ladies. But it’s different here. If there were a lady you wished to impress, what would you do to catch her attention?”
Brian shrugged his shoulders. “I would probably tell her that her cooking is even better than my mama’s.”
Maybe that would work on some of the young ladies, but Chad couldn’t see that working with Anna. Whenever he went to Anna’s house for supper, Anna’s mother did most of the cooking while Anna and Sarah helped. He didn’t think Anna really took much joy in cooking. He probably enjoyed cooking more than she did, probably because for him, it was optional; but for her, it was an expected duty. In fact, he wanted to learn how to cook some of the great meals they made for him, but he never felt welcome in their kitchen, so he never had an opportunity to look over Susan’s shoulder or ask questions about her style and ingredients. Mostly, this was a cultural line he didn’t want to cross. He could enjoy all the time he wanted in his own kitchen, but here, men barely poured their own water because it meant going into the kitchen. If he wanted to fit in, he had to follow their rules and abide by their customs.
Men didn’t belong in the kitchen. Just like women didn’t belong . . . he had to stop and think. He had no idea where women didn’t belong. His first thought was that here, women didn’t belong under the hood of a car, but so few people had cars, it didn’t apply. Being under the hood of a car didn’t even apply to most of the men.
“Hey, City Boy. Waut denkje dü? What are you thinking? Would you like to impress one of the mamas?” He grinned. “Are you not getting enough invitations?”
He’d actually been getting too many invitations. After the first, when he realized the strings attached, he turned them all down. Still, the mamas kept asking. “No. I don’t want to impress one of the mamas. I want to impress one of the ladies.” He’d already impressed Susan, and he hadn’t been meaning to. The problem was that he couldn’t seem to impress Susan’s daughter.
Brian nodded. “Will you tell me who has caught your attention? Is it Rachel?”
Chad needed a few seconds to remember Rachel’s face. “No. It’s Anna.”
Brian’s smile widened. “Ah, Anna. She is very pretty. She is also a very good helper.”
Chad clenched his fists, and his whole body stiffened.
Brian shook his head. “But she is not a good cook; she likes to read instead. I have heard that in the kitchen, she becomes distracted. What would you like to know about Anna?”
Chad felt himself relax. “I know what I’d do if I was trying to get her interest and we were on my own turf, but everything I do here turns out to be wrong.”
“Ja. I have heard that you were washing dishes at work.” Brian rolled his eyes.
Chad stiffened and rammed his hands into his pockets. “You mean you heard about that?”
“I think that everyone in town has heard about that. Also, you go home at lunchtime to put your chickens in the coop. And, you talk to them. I hope they do not talk back to you.”
Actually, they did. If that was bad, then he didn’t want to know what everyone would think if someone found out he’d been working on training Waddles and Blinkie. Not that they could ever be trained like dogs. He knew he would never be able to litterbox train them like cats, but so far, he’d had moderate success in teaching them to come when he called their names. They certainly knew the words “go get my book” meant sitting in his lap on the recliner. They also knew that “bedtime” meant go into the kitchen and settle down in their box. He suspected they also knew the meaning of “chicken hotel.” He’d caught himself saying it just like all his friends and realized he said it often because Waddles and Blinkie knew it meant time to go make a trip to the coop.
Chad cleared his throat. “Never mind the chickens. I need to know what I can do to get Anna’s attention. I want her to see me as more than just her boss.”
“I do not know. Anna is very different from her sesta. I thought Sarah would be good for me, but it was not so. I know what Sarah likes, but I do not know what Anna likes.”
Keeping his hands in his pockets, Chad turned around to look at Brian as he spoke. “Then what in general do men do around here when they seek a lady’s affections?”
Brian jerked his head back, as if this was a foreign concept for him. Actually, he’d heard enough about Brian’s reputation around women, or lack thereof, to know it really might be a foreign concept. He also knew the ladies outnumbered the men, so men didn’t have to try too hard. Most often, the lady had already started sending out signals. Even flares.
Anna had not been sending signals. Just the opposite, she seemed rather gun-shy.
“Often the young men will take ladies for a
root beer float at the soda shop. But it is for those younger than we are.”
“If she likes that, maybe I can make my own root beer floats for the two of us.”
Brian’s eyes brightened. “That is what Ted did for Miranda. One day at choir practice, he came in with everything needed to make root beer floats. But he did not just make one for himself and Miranda. He made one for everyone in the choir. They were very good.” Brian grinned and rested one hand over his stomach. “I was hoping there was going to be some leftover ice cream, but there was not. Ted made one float for everyone.”
“But I need to do something that will impress Anna, not everyone in the church.”
“Ja, but think about this. Miranda married Ted. He must have done something right.”
“Root beer floats, huh?” He’d never made floats before, but unlike any of the men here, he knew his way around the kitchen and he was a very good cook. He obviously wasn’t winning Anna’s heart through his technical prowess, so maybe it was time to change tactics. Floats were easy. Too easy.
He turned to Brian. “You’ve just given me a great idea. I’ve got some shopping to do, so take your time with my car, and if you want to take a drive through town, knock yourself out.”
Brian turned very serious. “I do not wish to hurt myself or damage your car. I just wish to have some fun driving it. I do not wish to get knocked out.”
“That’s just an expression. I’ll be back in about an hour. I’ve got some shopping to do.”
Chad raised his fist to knock on Anna’s front door but froze with his knuckles inches from the wood surface. Part of him felt excited about his plan, but part of him was as nervous as a teenager about to embark on his first date, which made no sense. He was a grown man with two years of college and four more in the workforce. He’d just been on the wrong end of the breakup of a two-year relationship.
He’d never been a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy, but he’d been out with enough women that he knew that in general, the ladies were attracted to him.
Except here, the usual rules didn’t apply.
Only in Piney Meadows had he felt it important to ask an adult woman’s mother permission to take her out for the evening. Of course, he hadn’t called it a date. If he had, he doubted Anna would have agreed to go with him.
He sucked in a deep breath and knocked. This really wasn’t a date.
The door opened. Anna stood in the doorway, frowning, while her mother stood behind Anna, her hands clasped, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.
“Hab ein gootde tiet! Have a good time!” Susan chorused and nudged Anna forward. The second Anna’s feet crossed the threshold, the door closed.
“Waut jeit aun hia? What is going on here?” Anna grumbled as she stepped forward, so the door wasn’t pressing against her backside. “Mama would not tell me what you have planned, except that I should bring a sweater.”
Chad grinned and jerked his head toward his car, which was parked out on the driveway instead of inside the garage. “I think she’s just excited because we’re not walking, we’re driving.”
“Driving? Where are you taking me?”
His grin widened. “I’m taking you on a picnic to Cass Lake.”
“A picnic? Who is going to be there?”
“Just you and me. This is a picnic for two.”
Her brows knotted. “That does not make sense.”
It would have made sense if he’d added the word he’d purposely left out. It was a going to be a romantic picnic for two, if everything went right. If things didn’t go the way he wanted, then it would just be a friendly outing for the two of them—no harm, no foul—and that wouldn’t be so bad either.
“Don’t worry about it. I thought this would be fun, a chance to get away.”
“Get away from what?”
If he were back in Minneapolis, he would have said it was a chance to get away from the hustle and bustle and enjoy some quiet time. But here, it was pretty much always quiet. “I don’t know. I just wanted to do something different. To relax.”
Her eyes narrowed, she glared at him for a few seconds, and then she looked at his car and back to him. “If we are to have a picnic, then we had better go back into the house and I will prepare a supper to take with us.”
He shook his head. “No. Everything is already in the car.”
She turned to stare at the car. “But I did not see Mama preparing a supper for us.”
“She didn’t. I put everything together.” While Brian had been changing the oil in his car, Chad had gone on a shopping trip, then gone home and spent all afternoon cooking. “We’re going to have a picnic at Cass Lake. Then we can go for a walk, and I’ll have you back home right after the sunset.” He forced himself to smile at his words, like it was a good thing. Only here would a date be over so early. Since it was June and soon to be the longest day of the year, it meant he’d have her home at the “late” time of 9:00 p.m. In Minneapolis, a date would only be just getting started around that time. Instead, he’d have her home before sunset so she could go to bed nice and early in order to get plenty of rest before church on Sunday morning.
Today, he was changing the game—and changing the rules. Going out of the town, away from work, church, and any place else they’d ever been together, seemed like a good place to just be himself and not her boss or the manager of the biggest employer in town. It would be just the two of them—a man and a woman getting to know each other a little better. Maybe introduce a little romance, and see where the future could go.
Then when they were back home with the usual routine, hopefully, enough would change so it could continue.
He motioned toward the car. “Come on. Let’s go.”
19
Anna stiffened, crossed her arms, turned to stare at Chad’s car, and then looked back at him. He only shrugged his shoulders and grinned.
She couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Surely he wanted something, although she didn’t know what. If he wanted a good meal he was going to be very disappointed with whatever he’d done for a picnic dinner for two, compared to what Mama had cooked. She’d made en heenaborde met bubbat for supper, which was one of his favorite meals.
Yet since he’d spoken to Mama, surely he knew what she’d made. During their time in the kitchen today to prepare ahead, she’d almost felt like they had been cooking with Chad in mind. She’d even said so, but her mama hadn’t told her Chad was coming until they heard his knock on the door. Then Mama had nearly pushed her to the door and told her to open it, which hadn’t made any sense until she saw Chad standing there.
Going to his car without Mama’s cooking didn’t make sense. He was even going to miss the Syrutstlatz cake they’d made for tomorrow’s dessert after they came home from church. Even though no one in the family could touch it before Sunday, Mama would sneak a piece to Chad, because she always did.
She didn’t know what he had planned, but he would be very disappointed when she told him what he’d left behind. She had no idea what he could possibly have prepared. All she could think of was what Ted, as another single man living alone, would have done.
She’d never had cheese and crackers for supper before, but there was always a first time for everything.
Since supper was not going to be included in their outing, she tried to figure out another reason for his strange plan.
It wasn’t possible he wanted to talk about the new overtime plans at work. They’d already set up all the procedures, and everyone was very excited. More than that, since his arrival in Piney Meadows, Chad had always been very adamant that all talk of business remain at work, during working hours. The minute the door closed behind them as they left every day, their conversation always changed to other things. He always held firm with no exception.
The most likely conversation he would want to have in private would probably be another request to find another activity to help him become more familiar with the ways of her people. While everyone at th
e factory seemed to like him and he’d been doing fine at the Bible study meetings, he had dropped out of the young adult group. He’d told her that too many of the young ladies were looking at him as husband material, and he didn’t want to mislead any of them or their mamas.
Even though most of his interaction with her people was in church on Sundays, almost everyone knew him better than he knew them. Word of Chad’s chicken coop had spread quickly. Many people had come to her home on the pretext of talking to her mama or papa when all they’d wanted was to peek over the fence to see the infamous chicken hotel. At first Anna had cringed and wanted to reprimand people for ridiculing him for building such an extravagant structure for two chickens. But then, with the only exception being Rachel’s mama, instead of being amused at Chad’s expense, everyone actually liked it. Oddly, the person who liked it the most was elderly Mr. Reinhart. He snapped at everyone to mind their words and told each person how he saw much potential in Chad and to give “City Boy” time to adapt and prove himself. Naturally, everyone always minded Mr. Reinhart. After all, no one wanted to feel the rebuke of his cane.
Thinking of elderly Mr. Reinhart’s words brought her mind back to Chad’s chicken coop. She’d seen him put the chickens in it every night, and despite his worries, they settled in quickly. Every night, not long after she tucked herself into bed, she only heard one small bit of rustling, and then for the rest of the night, all was silent until he went into the coop the next morning to feed them.
She didn’t know why he did that. Chickens were self-regulating and didn’t need their food monitored or to be fed at intervals. They simply ate the amount they needed when they needed it. Yet every morning, Chad was there, picking them up and talking to them.
One day she would speak to him about that, but this was not the time.
She didn’t know what he needed to talk to her about, but she could certainly listen, especially since he had gone to so much trouble. It was obviously something he couldn’t talk to her about at work.
