Sweet as Honey

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  She reached the phone shack, dialed the number to the market, and asked for Paul when a female voice answered on the other end. Probably Paul’s sister, but she didn’t take the time to ask. At the moment, she wasn’t in the mood for light conversation.

  “Hello?”

  “Paul, it’s Lily.”

  Silence on the other end. He must have known she was going to cancel on him again.

  “Paul, I can’t come today.”

  “Of all the stuff, Lily. This is the second time in a week. Don’t you even care about my feelings anymore?”

  “I can’t come, Paul. One of our buggy wheels is missing.”

  “You’re talking nonsense again, Lily. I wish you’d stop. I hate having to try to guess what you’re thinking.”

  Lily took a deep breath. “Three weeks ago, someone tipped over one of our beehives. Then they tore our laundry off the line and stomped it in the mud. Last night, they managed to take a wheel off our buggy. It can’t be driven.”

  “Who would be so deerich as to remove someone’s buggy wheel?”

  “We don’t know, but it’s a little frightening to think they’re sneaking onto our property to play tricks on us.”

  She didn’t mention the writing on the barn. Only Dan, Poppy, Aunt Bitsy, and Lily knew about that. Rose must never catch wind of it.

  Paul grunted. “It’s probably some of those high school kids from Shawano.”

  Lily tried to sound unaffected so Paul wouldn’t worry about her. “Probably.” She certainly hoped it was something as harmless as a high school prank. But the message on the barn that Dan had painted over hadn’t seemed so innocent.

  “What about gmay tomorrow? You can’t miss church on account of a buggy wheel.”

  Lily sighed. Gmay was the least of her problems. “I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  Someone in the background said something to Paul. “Lily, look. I have to go. We got in a shipment of cheese that’s got to go in the fridges. How soon can you get the wheel back on? I was counting on your visit today. You never seem to have time for me anymore.”

  “I don’t know, Paul. I’m sorry.”

  She could have heard his pout from the next county. “It doesn’t sound like you’re trying very hard to come to see me. Can’t you think of something?”

  Lily slumped her shoulders. She had enough to worry about without the extra burden of Paul’s sulking. “I’ve tried. We were supposed to visit Mammi and Dawdi Kiem this afternoon.” She didn’t have many options, certainly not ones Paul would like. But if he was that eager to see her . . . “I suppose we could ask a neighbor to drive us over.”

  Paul’s voice sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. “You were thinking of Dan Kanagy, weren’t you?”

  “He could bring me to the market. He drove me into town last night to go to the library. I checked out some books.” She pursed her lips. After the library Dan had bought her a burnt almond fudge ice-cream cone and taken her up to the Shawano Lake overlook. She had started reading Caddie Woodlawn to him as they watched the sun set over the lake. Paul definitely didn’t need to know that, even though she and Dan were just friends.

  Friends. Her heart thumped at the very word. She and Dan were friends, and strangely enough there was no friend she’d rather spend time with.

  “He plans on coming later today to help Aunt B with another mousetrap. The first one didn’t work.”

  “Of all the stuff, Lily. I warned you to keep away from him. He’s up to no good.”

  If what Dan had done on their farm the last week was “up to no good,” then she’d eat her black bonnet for breakfast. Yesterday morning he showed up as promised to help move the supers into the honey house with a smile as irresistible as ever. Not only had he lifted supers, but he had brought a homemade honey extractor made out of a metal garbage can rigged with ball bearings and bicycle rims and powered by an electric drill. Even Aunt B had been impressed.

  Lily knew he had his own chores to get to, but he had stayed the whole morning helping with the extraction, which with two extractors, had gone almost twice as fast as the day before. They’d finished the honey by one o’clock.

  Warmth traveled up her spine. He had come back later last night and taken her for ice cream. How she loved burnt almond fudge!

  “I’ll ask Dan,” she said, without really thinking.

  “Stuff and nonsense, Lily.” Paul’s voice rose in pitch. “I wouldn’t ask a stranger to drive my girlfriend anywhere. I’ll take you to your grandparents’ house.”

  She found herself momentarily speechless. She knew how busy they were at the market. “Uh . . . that’s nice, Paul, but do you have time? You just got that cheese in.”

  “Of course I have time. How could you even ask that, Lily? I always have time for the girl I love.”

  The girl he loved.

  She could count on one hand the times he’d told her that he loved her. Less than one hand. Three fingers at the most. His declaration should have made her heart go pitter-patter. Instead, it set her teeth on edge.

  Why was he suddenly so accommodating?

  The answer crept over her like smoke from a leaky stovepipe. Paul was jealous.

  Of Dan Kanagy.

  She probably should have said something to reassure him that she remained completely loyal to him, that she didn’t think about Dan Kanagy that way, but she couldn’t do it. After ice cream and homemade honey extractors and heartfelt apologies, she couldn’t pretend that Dan hadn’t pricked her interest—as a friend, of course—but the fact that she got all shivery and twitchy when she was around him would make Paul very unhappy.

  The guilt just about knocked her over.

  Dan’s dat had nearly ruined Paul’s family financially. Was she being disloyal or forgiving? Lily couldn’t blame Paul for having trouble letting go of the past. Forgiveness didn’t come easily for anyone, and poor Paul tended to hold things tight.

  She’d been silent too long. Could Paul hear her doubt over the phone?

  “I’ll pick you up at one,” he said.

  “Okay. Denki, Paul. It will be nice to see you.”

  “And wear your glasses.”

  He hung up, and Lily slowly let out a breath. If she truly cared about Paul, she’d wear her glasses because it made him happy. Wasn’t that her most important job as a girlfriend, to make her future husband happy?

  She thought of Dan and that worried look in his eye and didn’t feel so sure anymore. Does Paul ever try to make you happy?

  She lifted her chin. Of course he did. He had offered to drive her into town. If that wasn’t true love, she didn’t know what was.

  * * *

  Lily’s grandparents lived not far from the little cottage where Dan’s mammi had spent her last years in a small house with almost two acres of land. Dawdi grew pumpkins and tomatoes, and Mammi kept an herb garden. Mammi used fresh herbs in all her recipes during the summer and dried herbs for use when the snows fell. Aunt B had clearly learned her cooking skills from Mammi Sarah. When Mammi Sarah cooked, even oatmeal tasted good and broccoli was a treat. She experimented with exotic flavors and spices, and no one left hungry when they went to Mammi’s for dinner.

  Since Dawdi had no sons and only one living daughter, he had sold his farm and house to his nephew a dozen years ago, and he and Mammi had retired comfortably in the little house near the center of town. The Honeybee Sisters visited their grandparents every Saturday afternoon and one or two days during the week. Mammi and Dawdi weren’t getting younger, and being their only grandchildren, Lily, Poppy, and Rose helped with the chores that proved increasingly difficult for them to manage.

  Aunt B seldom came with them, claiming that she wanted her girls to have a good visit with Mammi and Dawdi without her getting in the way, but there was more to Aunt B’s absence than that.

  Poppy and Rose sat in the backseat of the buggy while Lily rode up front with Paul. He didn’t have a particularly easy hand with the reins, and
his posture remained stiff and uncomfortable while he drove. “Can you bring more honey on Monday? We’re almost out.”

  Lily bloomed into a smile. “It’s selling well yet?” That was gute news. Paul’s family wouldn’t be stuck with jars and jars of honey they couldn’t sell.

  “It’s selling okay. My mamm’s raspberry preserves are selling better, but at least your honey isn’t collecting dust on the shelves like your dandelion jelly is.”

  Every summer when other flowers started blooming, Aunt B would let the girls do one picking of dandelion blossoms for a batch of dandelion jelly. They sold a few jars at the market and gave the rest away as Christmas gifts. Lily loved dandelion jelly, but the tourists were a little suspicious of it.

  “I’m glad to know our honey is doing well.”

  “We’ll buy more, but we’ve probably sold most of what we’re going to sell. We usually have to store several jars for the whole winter, and there’s not a lot of space in our storage room.”

  Lily creased her brow. “Ach. I hope it’s not too much trouble.”

  Paul glanced in her direction. “I’m doing it for you, Lily, and no other reason.”

  They pulled up in front of Mammi and Dawdi’s house where Dawdi was taking a hoe to the flower bed. With his back to them and his hat on, they couldn’t see his white hair and beard, but it wouldn’t have been hard for a passerby to recognize that Dawdi was an old man. He stooped over his hoe as if it were the only thing keeping him from toppling to the ground.

  Lily wished he would leave the yard work to her and her sisters. She feared he’d break a hip or cut off a finger in his stubborn independence. It must have been very hard to get old.

  Dawdi looked up from his garden. “So, you’ve come to visit, have you?”

  The screen door protested loudly as Mammi opened it. She stepped out onto the porch and let the screen crash back into place behind her. “Priscilla,” she scolded. “You’ve got to take more care with your kapp. Your hair is blowing all over the place.”

  A few wisps of hair had broken free from Poppy’s kapp. Poppy hated fussing with her hair in the mornings. Her impatience often resulted in unruly strands escaping the shelter of the kapp. Lily liked the way Poppy’s untamed hair framed her face, but Mammi saw it as gross defiance of the Ordnung.

  Poppy gave Mammi a properly repentant smile and tucked the errant hair behind her ears. That would have to do until she could get to a mirror and a comb.

  At seventy-two years old, Mammi was nearly ten years younger than Dawdi, and the age contrast was significant. Although her hands were gnarled with crippling arthritis, Mammi’s hair was still a beautiful light brown with only an occasional streak of gray. Except for the deep frown lines at her lips, her skin looked smooth and unblemished, giving her the look of someone much younger.

  She ambled down the stairs and hugged each of the sisters. She gave Rose a loud kiss on the cheek before pulling away to study her face. “Stand up straighter, Rosie. I’ve told you before, I can’t abide slouching.”

  Rose didn’t really slouch. She simply tried to appear small so that as few people as possible would take notice of her. While Mammi fussed with Poppy’s hair, Lily reassuringly squeezed Rose’s hand. Rose responded with a resigned curl of her lips. They’d experienced Mammi’s brusque manner thousands of times. Mammi couldn’t help herself. Compliments were rare, and disapproval was as natural as breathing. It seemed she didn’t know how to do anything but find fault.

  Dawdi, with his stern looks and stiff demeanor, was almost easier to bear than Mammi. As long as the sisters conducted themselves like proper Amish girls, Dawdi had no complaints.

  Whenever she visited her grandparents, Lily always felt a little sad for Aunt B. Had she ever heard a word of sincere praise from her parents while growing up?

  Still, Lily knew that Mammi’s criticisms were clumsy attempts to show her affection. What better way to love your grandchildren to death than to push them to improve themselves? In Mammi’s mind, she loved her granddaughters enough to want to change them for the better, and Dawdi loved them enough to care about their eternal salvation. He obviously felt he had to be vigilant.

  Resting one hand on his hoe for support, Dawdi shook Paul’s hand. “Your dat says you’re going to build a house.” Ever since Lily and Paul had gotten together in eighth grade, Dawdi had taken a keen interest in Paul’s family. In his own way, he kept an eye out for his granddaughter.

  “Jah,” Paul said. “I want it finished by next year.”

  Mammi smiled for the first time since they had arrived. She leaned close to Lily and whispered, “Don’t let that one get away. His family makes gute money.”

  Lily curled her lips into a halfhearted smile. If she married Paul, it wouldn’t be because he had money. She glanced doubtfully in his direction. Next year seemed too soon. When Paul finished his house, he’d put extra pressure on her to get married, but she was anything but sure she wanted to marry Paul. Dan Kanagy had planted too many doubts in her mind. “I don’t care about money, Mammi.”

  Mammi eyed her as if she were a simpleton. “Of course not. But it doesn’t hurt.”

  Though Aunt B rarely came with them for a visit, she always sent ajar of honey and something delicious from the oven. Lily handed Mammi a plastic zipper bag of granola.

  “What’s this?” Mammi asked.

  “Granola with honey and wheat germ,” Lily said. “It’s wonderful-gute with milk. One of Aunt Bitsy’s favorite recipes.”

  Mammi drew her brows together. “It’s still warm. Elizabeth should know better than to put it in plastic before it cools. It will sweat.”

  “She made it right before we came,” Lily said. “She thought you might like to eat it warm.”

  Mammi shrugged. “She should have let it cool first. Elizabeth never had the patience your mamm did with the baking. I told her, ‘Mark my words. You’ll never get a husband if you can’t keep your cakes from falling.’ And she hasn’t.”

  “But she has, Mammi,” Poppy interjected. “Aunt Bitsy’s cakes hold up fine.”

  They followed Mammi as she marched into the house. “But she hasn’t got herself a husband. And she certainly won’t now, no matter how delicious her cakes are.”

  Mammi took the offensive granola to the kitchen while Lily and sisters sat down on the sofa in the small sitting room. Paul followed them and slid into the wooden chair closest to Lily. Dawdi hobbled in on his cane and shut the screen door behind him. After hooking his cane on the arm of his threadbare chair, he sat down and studied the girls as if trying to discover their hidden weaknesses and sins.

  “Have you girls been good this week?” he said. “Does Elizabeth make sure you say your prayers and repent of your sins?”

  “Jah, Dawdi,” Lily said. Rose was too timid to do much more than nod at their dawdi, and Poppy didn’t much like the questions. “We have tried to be humble and kind and turn the other cheek.”

  Paul chimed in as if he were already a grandson-in-law. “Lily is sometimes tempted by vanity, but I am helping her to see a better way.”

  Dawdi nodded thoughtfully. “The girls must watch themselves for any hint of vanity. Elizabeth indulged them with braces and peacock dresses. I never understood why the girls couldn’t be like other good Amish and simply go without teeth.”

  She felt Poppy and Rose stiffen on either side of her. Lily glanced at Poppy’s red and blotchy face, and she could see the anger threatening to boil over. It happened almost every time they came to visit. Poppy, Lily, and even Rose were forced to bite their tongues again and again when Dawdi made disparaging comments about Aunt B. Paul’s condescending attitude didn’t help matters today.

  An unfamiliar annoyance simmered at the base of her throat. Usually when Paul started listing Lily’s faults, she felt deep shame for being so wicked. But Dan didn’t think she had anything to be ashamed of. He’d called her pretty. Was that so terrible? She’d grown tired of apologizing to Paul for simply existing.

&nbs
p; Guilt wrapped an icy hand around her heart. She shouldn’t think ill of Paul. He only wanted to help her. She kept forgetting that.

  Ach! Paul was right. She was too vain and proud by half.

  Mammi came from the kitchen carrying a tray filled with bowls of ice cream. She served one to each of them and then sat in her old rocker next to Dawdi.

  Lily was grateful for the opportunity to change the subject. “We are sorry we haven’t come around this week. We’ve been pulling the honey something wonderful.”

  Dawdi nodded. “You told us you wouldn’t be by. Did it take long? The hives seem to have done well.”

  It was as close to a compliment as Dawdi would ever get.

  “Not near as long, Dawdi.” Poppy’s lips twitched smugly, and she directed her next words at Paul. “Dan Kanagy helped us two whole days, and he built a clever honey extractor that made the work go twice as fast.”

  Paul turned three shades of green in succession. Stiffening as if someone had shoved an iron rod down his spine, he said, “I couldn’t help. It’s been busy at the market.”

  Poppy gave him a syrupy sweet smile. “Ach, Paul, we know how busy you are. You don’t have to worry. If we need something, we ask Dan. He’s never too busy to help.”

  In school, Poppy usually expressed her displeasure with her fists, but Lily had never seen her deliver such a fantastic blow. Paul looked as if he’d been smacked upside the head with a hive tool.

  Rose nodded eagerly. “We adore Dan. He takes very gute care of us,” she said, in an unusual show of defiance.

  Lily took no pleasure in Paul’s discomfort, but she was grateful her sisters gave Dan the credit he deserved. Not only had he saved them hours of work, but he had made the long, hard days more fun than they had ever been. She smiled just thinking of him.

  “Dan Kanagy?” Dawdi said. “Is them the Kanagys out on the county road?”

  “Jah, Dawdi.”

  Dawdi thumbed his suspenders. “They’re not in our district, but I hear tell they have a wonderful-gute dairy operation. I am glad there is someone who will do you a good turn. Elizabeth has always been stubborn about asking for help.”