Adoring Addie

by Leslie Gould

  I wasn’t sure how we’d do that.

  “I’m a passionate person,” he said. “I like to have a cause. As my old boss used to say, ‘Be the change.’”

  I liked that.

  “Are you in?”

  I wasn’t sure what difference we could make, but I answered, “Jah, I’m in.”

  He reached across me then, his palm out. It took me a minute to register what he was doing—a high five, something my Bruders did at times, although never with me. I put my palm up, and he bumped it with his. I liked the feel of his skin against mine.

  “Here’s to change,” he said, grasping my hand in his, curling his fingers around mine for the second time that day.

  We walked that way for a moment, until we reached the bank, but then a firefly darted by, and then another one flitted upstream toward the house. Jonathan dropped my hand and, laughing, chased after a third one with me following close behind, stumbling now and then on the uneven ground, the mud squishing between my toes, giggling as I batted a cattail along the creek. My surging emotions, the beauty of the moonlight, and the fairylike fireflies all welled up inside of me alongside the pure joy Jonathan had spoken about. I felt it too, for the first time ever.

  In a few minutes the fireflies disappeared across the creek and Jonathan stopped, waiting for me to catch up. He took me in his arms and held me tight. I wrapped my arms around him, holding my flip-flops out from his back.

  The joy inside me swelled until a sob rose up alongside it.

  “What’s the matter?” He lifted my chin.

  “I’m just so happy.” I swiped at an escaping tear.

  He laughed again and hugged me tighter, his body against mine, and yet the gesture seemed innocent enough. It didn’t seem as if he had any of the ulterior motives Mutter had warned me about. He seemed to simply want to hug me—and I wanted to hug him in return.

  Finally he pulled away, saying, “I should get you back home.”

  I nodded.

  He motioned for me to climb the trail first, which I did, and he followed behind until we came out under the willow. Then we walked side by side, holding hands.

  “There are so many things I want to know about you,” he said. “Starting with . . . when’s your birthday?”

  “July thirty-first.”

  “Just ten days from now. . . .” He paused, then asked, “And your favorite color?”

  “The underside of a willow leaf,” I answered.

  “Ach,” he said. “A pale, shimmery green.”

  I nodded.

  “Favorite story?” he asked.

  “That’s a hard one . . . I’d say ‘Baby Moses.’ I love his sister’s faith.”

  “I like that one too,” he said. “Mine’s ‘Jonathan and David.’”

  “But Jonathan dies.”

  “Jah.” His voice was serious. “But he was a faithful friend.” I imagined that was something that came easily to this Jonathan too. He paused for a moment and then asked, “Favorite food?”

  I laughed. “Anything I don’t have to cook.”

  It took him a moment to think on that. “Ach, sounds as if that doesn’t happen often.”

  I nodded.

  He continued. “Favorite day of the year?”

  “The first snow—when everything is new.”

  “Jah, I like that too,” he said. “And that night, especially if the stars are out, I go for a long walk. There’s nothing as enchanting in all the world.” He stopped. “But my favorite day of this year is today.”

  I turned my head.

  “The day I met you,” he whispered.

  He was silent for a moment, gazing into my eyes. Then he spoke at a normal volume. “I’d get baptized for you in a heartbeat. And join the church in two.”

  “Ach, don’t say that.” Many Youngie made those decisions based on wanting to get married. But we’d only just met.

  “Sure, I’d do it first for God, but you’d be the second reason.”

  Unsure of what to say, I didn’t answer, but the truth was, I felt the same.

  Once we reached the pasture, Jonathan led me toward the lane, away from the house. “Just a minute more,” he said.

  But as he spoke lights from a car appeared coming up the lane.

  “It’s Timothy,” I said. “We should wait until he goes in.”

  We stepped behind a poplar along the lane, into the north field.

  Jonathan pulled me up against the back of the tree. “How about a kiss?” he teased.

  I shook my head. I knew it was too soon.

  “A holy kiss, then.” His eyes danced, as they had before.

  I smiled, nodded, and turned my cheek to him.

  He kissed it tenderly, his lips soft against my skin. A jolt surged through me.

  As he leaned back, the lights from the Bronco passed by. I turned toward them.

  Timothy sat in the passenger seat; I craned my neck to see who was driving.

  “Danny!” He didn’t have a license, not even a permit. Too late, I noticed Timothy’s window was down. I darted back behind the tree.

  I suspected that Timothy reached his foot over and stomped on the brake by the screech from Danny. I heard the yank of the emergency brake next, and then Timothy stumbled from his Bronco.

  He slurred his words. “Ach, Addie, who’re you with? Phillip?”

  Jonathan started toward the lane.

  “Don’t,” I pled.

  He stepped out from behind the tree anyway. Calmly, he said, “She’s with me.”

  The other door opened, and Danny turned off the lights of the Bronco and climbed out, leaving the engine running. “Come on, Timothy. Let’s go.” Danny, bright-eyed and alert, stayed on the other side of the vehicle.

  “Go? There’s a Mosier on our property. With our Schwester.”

  I exhaled and stepped out from the trees too. “Jonathan was on his way home.”

  “Hiding behind a bunch of trees like a sissy isn’t ‘on his way home.’”

  “Come on, Timothy.” I stepped forward and took his arm, turning my head away from the boozy smell of him, which was worse even than the collection of beer cans behind the barn. “We can talk about this in the morning.”

  He yanked away from me toward Jonathan, his movements jerky. “I want to talk about it now.” My brother’s cloudy eyes alarmed me.

  Jonathan took off his hat and held it over his chest. “I care about Addie,” he said. “A lot. I’ll do anything I can to make the rift between our families end.”

  Timothy harrumphed, turned toward the house, and pointed his finger. But then he gasped.

  Coming toward us was a figure wearing white, appearing as an apparition. Timothy stepped backward. I shook my head. It moved too quickly to be Mutter. It had to be Aenti Nell.

  But I wasn’t about to tell Timothy that—not when he was trembling at my side.

  A moment later she gave herself away as she called out, “Addie!” As she got closer, it was obvious she was wearing her nightgown with a thin white blanket wrapped around her. “Are you out here?”

  “Go,” I said to Jonathan. “Now!”

  He hesitated. By his response to Timothy, I knew he wasn’t afraid of my family. I hoped he knew he’d be doing me a favor to leave though, before the situation became unmanageable.

  “Are you sure?” He looked from me to Aenti Nell, who had stopped in the middle of the lane.

  “Positive.”

  “Tomorrow, then?”

  “Jah.”

  “Good night. A thousand times good night.” He slipped away.

  Timothy shook his head. “He’s a coward.”

  “You’re a fool,” I retorted.

  I turned to Danny and said, “Park the Bronco.”

  He got back in the vehicle and turned on the lights—fully illuminating our aunt, who jerked her head to the side in response to the bright beams—and drove off toward the barn.

  “Why did you take him with you again?” I asked Timothy.


  “He wanted to go.”

  “More likely you wanted someone to drive you home.” I wanted to shove him. I was sure he’d fall over.

  “Addie!” Aenti Nell called out again. “Get back in the house. You’ve been out long enough.”

  I marched toward her with Timothy weaving at my side.

  “Where’s Phillip?” she asked.

  I shrugged.

  Timothy snorted but then stumbled. I caught his arm and squeezed hard as I held him up, straining against his weight, deciding I didn’t want him to fall after all. If he hurt himself, it would be up to me to nurse him. He found his footing and began to laugh.

  Aenti Nell’s face turned sour. “Off to bed with all of you.” She marched back toward the house, the corners of the blanket streaming out behind her, leading the way.

  I struggled along with Timothy until Danny reached us. “I didn’t know you’d gone out,” I said to him.

  “Ditto.” He took Timothy’s other arm and we dragged him across the lawn and up the back steps and into the kitchen. Aenti Nell must have gone straight to bed.

  “I’ll take him the rest of the way,” Danny said.

  “Denki.” I stopped at the sink for a glass of water. As I drank, a wisp of a cloud floated in front of the moon. Then an owl hooted again. I peered out the window. Jonathan stood in the middle of the courtyard, blowing a kiss.

  I blew a kiss back and then whispered, “Good night. A thousand times good night.” Had I only just met him? Had it only been one day?

  By the time I reached my room, Timothy and Danny were bumping around in theirs. I relit my lamp and ran my hand over the smooth surface of Mutter’s hope chest.

  I’d asked for one for my thirteenth birthday—the only thing I’d ever requested—and when Daed hauled her old hope chest into my room, I’d said I didn’t want it.

  It was the only time I remember voicing any disappointment, and the way Mutter reacted ensured I’d never do it again. She’d lambasted me about my selfishness for weeks. Joe-Joe was just over a year. Mutter was still exhausted. How dare I expect her and Daed to shop for me at such a time?

  I’d kept completely quiet after that about anything I wanted. I’d tried my hardest to be the daughter without any needs or wants. I’d done my best not to add an ounce of extra stress to my parents’ lives—until tonight.

  A light knock sounded on my door. “Addie?” Danny’s voice barely carried through the wood.

  I jerked open the door.

  Danny stood with his shirt untucked and his suspenders hanging to his knees. He ran his hand through his straw-colored hair as he spoke. “Timothy says he won’t tell if you don’t.”

  “It’s a deal—as long as he doesn’t make you drive him home again.”

  Danny shrugged. “It’s better than him driving home.”

  “What if you’d been stopped?”

  “I wasn’t.” He stifled a yawn.

  We’d both be up in another four hours. “Get to bed.”

  I closed the door and stepped to my French doors. Jonathan was walking across the pasture toward a shortcut through the fields, his head tipped toward the night sky. I imagined him whistling as he walked, soaking in the moonlight, enjoying the night air.

  How I wished I were at his side.

  CHAPTER

  6

  Mutter came into the kitchen earlier than usual, a smile on her face, and handed me a list of chores for the day. I skimmed it. They were all tasks I’d planned to do anyway.

  “Get me a cup of coffee, would you?” She settled into her chair.

  I poured cream first, then the coffee, and put the cup on the table in front of her.

  She glanced toward the sewing room. “Is Nell up?”

  “Not yet,” I answered. “But she should be soon.” I sounded as cheery as I felt. Even though I’d barely slept, I’d never felt better.

  Mutter caught me smiling a moment later.

  “Happy?” She gazed at me over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes unusually bright.

  “Jah,” I answered.

  “Do tell.” Her eyes sparkled.

  I shrugged. “Maybe later.” I turned back to the hash browns and increased the heat, hoping Mutter wouldn’t ask any more questions. She’d be sorely disappointed if she did.

  Danny came in first from the milking, bringing in our full bucket, followed by Billy.

  “Go wake up Joe-Joe,” I said to him. “Tell him we’re about ready to eat.” I flipped the hash browns again and pulled the French toast and slices of ham from the oven, where they’d been warming.

  Daed clomped into the kitchen next. “Where’s Timothy?” he asked, looking straight at me.

  I shrugged. “I thought he was out with you.”

  Daed stomped through the kitchen. A moment later he bellowed up the stairs, “Timothy!” It was becoming a familiar pattern. “Get down here right now!”

  I stepped to the archway to the living room as the pitter-patter of little feet descended the stairs. Knowing it was the little boys, I stepped forward and motioned to them to come to me. They scurried around Daed, and Joe-Joe clutched my skirt as he reached me.

  Daed yelled up the stairs again.

  “Go sit down,” I whispered.

  Daed shouted for Timothy a third time. Again there was the sound of steps on the staircase. This time it was Aenti Nell, adjusting her kerchief. She shot Daed an annoyed look and shuffled past him.

  “Timothy!” Daed boomed.

  The ceiling shook above the living room. Perhaps Timothy had fallen out of bed. Both Daed and I looked upward. The ceiling shook again as Timothy stomped across his floor. Then there was a hop, probably as he pulled on his pants. A moment later he started down the stairs. In a few moments he appeared, buttoning his shirt.

  “You overslept,” Daed boomed. “Again. We were depending on your help.”

  Timothy didn’t answer.

  “Son.” Daed blocked the bottom of the stairs. “Were you out drinking last night?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  Daed let him pass. I rolled my eyes, which Timothy must have seen because he glanced back at Daed and said, “Why don’t you ask Addie what she was up to last night?”

  I hurried into the kitchen to dish up breakfast as Daed answered, “No need.”

  Timothy snorted.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Daed followed Timothy to the table as I extinguished the heat under the hash browns.

  “Ask Addie.”

  I turned around and sent Timothy a scathing look. At the table, Danny shook his head, a look of disgust on his freckled face.

  “Jah, she’s not the saint you all think she is.” Timothy took his place at the far end, next to Mutter, who still had a smile lingering on her face.

  “Ach, Timothy,” she said. “She’s courting. You don’t know what that’s like yet—but we’re fine with her being with Phillip. They need to get acquainted before they marry.”

  I directed my attention back to the hash browns, flinging them onto a platter with the spatula, frowning at the blackened mess.

  Timothy snorted again.

  I flipped the hash browns over so the burnt part wasn’t visible.

  Daed poured himself a cup of coffee. “What exactly are you saying, son?”

  I put the platter on the table and sat next to Joe-Joe.

  “Ask Addie.” Timothy leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, his foul breath so bad I could smell it across the table. It was ten times worse than the night before.

  Daed sat in his chair. “What’s your brother talking about?”

  I froze.

  “Addie?” Mutter leaned forward.

  “You were out last night, jah?” Daed scooted his chair forward.

  I nodded.

  “With Phillip, jah?” Mutter’s voice rang high.

  I shook my head as the hollow feeling returned.

  “Who with?” Mutter’s tone fell.

  Paralyzed, I struggled between be
ing the person my parents wanted me to be and the girl I felt so keenly last night when I was with Jonathan, the Addie I wanted to be. My hands shook in my lap, and I couldn’t meet my mother’s eyes.

  Joe-Joe scooted onto his knees, turning his face up to mine. “Jonathan. Right? I hope so because I really like him.” He looked from Mutter to Daed. “Billy said he gave us each a bow when I—”

  Mutter interrupted him. “Addie!” She struggled to her feet, her hands on the table, her cheeks red. “How could you?”

  Joe-Joe reached over and put his chubby hand on mine, whispering, “Why is she mad?”

  I squeezed my youngest brother’s hand, trying to communicate that he’d done nothing wrong, as Daed put his face into his hands and dug his thumbs into his beard.

  Aenti Nell stood and said, “Now, now. Everyone calm down.”

  I appreciated her gesture, but I didn’t think my parents even heard her.

  I nodded at my Aenti, took a deep breath, and then found my voice, still holding on to Joe-Joe’s hand. “Jonathan is good and kind.” I tried my best to stay calm. “And he wants the grudge between our families to end. So do I. Even though we don’t even know—”

  “That’s not the point. He’s not Phillip.” Daed was on his feet now, towering over the table.

  “Exactly,” I answered.

  “Go to your room.” Mutter pressed her hands hard against the wood. “Right now. Don’t come down until we tell you to.”

  I glanced at Daed. I’d never been sent to my room in all my life, for heaven’s sake, and here I was nearly nineteen.

  Daed nodded. “Do as your mother says.”

  I let go of Joe-Joe’s hand, pushed back my chair, locked my eyes on Timothy, and left the table.

  Billy grabbed for me as I passed by. “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  “No, stay here.”

  Joe-Joe whimpered.

  “Quit your crying!” Daed barked.

  Billy scampered around the table and put his arm around our youngest brother, allowing me to flee.

  As I reached the living room Daed said, his voice still gruff, “Let’s pray.”

  The smell of breakfast teased me, and I could hear shrill voices and the scrape of a chair against the wooden floor below, probably Aenti Nell as she got up and down to refill the platters.