Willa Mae nodded, her dark ringlets, covered by a hairnet, dancing on her head. “Let me see if I’ve got this right.” She splayed out her fingers and started counting off offenses. “Your mom upset you by trying to sell you to the highest bidder?”
Molly nodded. “Ya.”
“And you and some guy named Isaac are mixed up in some kind of ruse, and now his girlfriend might come to Pinecraft and spoil all your plans?” Willa Mae’s brow arched. “How am I doing so far?”
Molly pulled on her prayer kapp ribbons. “You forgot the part where I packed my bags and moved out and have no place to live.”
“Oh, girl. You’ve gone and done it this time. Your mama’s gonna run wild through the streets looking for you by this time tomorrow, and this café is the first place she’s likely to come. What do you want me to tell her?” Willa Mae frowned as she flicked another order off the roundabout, threw a small steak on the grill and then dunked a basket of fries into hot, bubbling oil.
Molly dropped into the chair near the back window and put her head in her hands. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought any of this through. I’ve made a real mess of my life, and no one’s to blame but myself.”
Molly wanted to scream in frustration. What had she gotten herself into?
Chapter Ten
Damp and miserable, Molly dodged rain puddles as she hurried through the streets of Pinecraft, the sky darkening with the promise of more rain. Mose and Sarah’s home was only a couple of blocks away from the café, but Molly was tired from a long day at work. The short distance felt like miles.
The Lapps’ baby had taken hours to deliver, hours with nothing to do but wait, think and panic. In her mind her problems had become insurmountable, more than she could deal with without good counsel. She’d called Mose in desperation, asked if she could come to the house as soon as she was free. Now she wished she hadn’t. Talking would just add to her stress. But Mose might have a solution, something she could do that didn’t include tucking her tail between her legs and going back home.
Someone had left the porch light on, a beacon of hope in the shimmery drizzle soaking her hair and dress. She ran up to the door, knocked and heard the high-pitched squeal of children. Sarah opened the door, her smile welcoming, a circle of blond-haired children clustered around her skirt.
“Come in, Molly,” she said, speaking over small voices demanding they get to their aunt first. “Beatrice, take your aunt’s bag and then run and get a towel from the bathroom. She looks wet and tired.”
“Why do I have to get it? You never ask Mercy to do anything.” Beatrice’s fake tears gathered in her eyes.
“Go,” Sarah insisted. “You don’t want your aunt Molly to think you’re not my biggest helper, do you?”
“Nee,” the little girl groaned, her small bare feet slapping against the polished tile floor as she ran toward the back of the house.
Mercy climbed like a monkey, her small arms wrapping tightly around Molly’s neck. She offered up a huge, toothy grin. “I free now,” she said, and held up four tiny fingers. Molly pretended to bite at her fingers. The little girl giggled and snuggled her head into Molly’s neck.
Mose walked into the room and relieved Molly of her wiggling bundle. “Let’s give your aunt a drink and a slice of your mom’s strudel before you overwhelm her with hugs and kisses.” He smiled at Molly. “You look like you’ve had a difficult day.”
Molly patted her blond-haired nephew’s head. Levi had grown since she’d last seen him. He was tall for almost two and strikingly beautiful for a boy. He grinned up at her, his arms clamped on to her leg like a vise. She returned his smile and told Mose, “Ya, I did. Just as I was leaving my shift I got the call. My patient wasn’t due for another week, but babies decide when it’s time to come, convenient or not. The mom’s fine and her son’s a gorgeous bobbel. I’m sure she’ll be showing him off at church next week.”
Sarah rubbed her own protruding stomach, smiling. “Why don’t you come in, instead of standing at the door?” She took Molly’s arm, and they strolled toward the kitchen. “Let me grab you some strudel, hot from the oven. We can sit and talk.”
Beatrice ran in, a white hand towel clutched to her chest. “Here, Molly.”
“Thank you, liebling. You’re such a good girl.” Molly took the towel and patted her face and neck dry before bending to give the child a tender kiss on the cheek. Beatrice glowed, her love for her aunt reflected in her deep blue eyes. “I went to visit Grossmammi today. She said—”
“We don’t want to hear what Ulla said, Beatrice. She should not speak of adult things around you. It would be best if you learn not to repeat what she tells you,” Mose instructed. “Find your little sister and brother and take them into the playroom, and mind that you are kind to them. No angry words. Do you hear?” His hand propelled the sulking child toward the back of the house. “Sometimes I wish... Never mind what I wish. Let’s forget about Beatrice being so like Ulla and eat our strudel.” A growing smile wiped the frown from his face.
The kitchen was warm and inviting, the fragrance of freshly baked pastry hanging heavy in the air. Molly eased herself into a chair and forced a smile. “Thank you for allowing me to come.”
Sarah, busy plating slices of hot pastry, returned Molly’s smile. “You are always welcome here. You know that.”
A tear trailed down Molly’s cheek, then another.
“Oh, what’s wrong?” Sarah said, and hurried over, putting her arms around Molly’s shoulders.
“I’ve made such a mess of things,” Molly groaned.
Mose pulled out a chair and sat, a look of concern creasing his face. “What’s happened?” He pressed a napkin into her hand.
Molly dried her eyes, her chin wobbling, new tears threatening. “I moved out.”
Sarah spoke to Mose under her breath. “I suspected this would happen.”
Dabbing at her eyes, Molly released a deep sigh. “It’s Samuel Bawell.”
“Ah... I’d wondered.” Mose rubbed at his beard. “For a while there’s been talk that a courtship has begun between the two of you.”
“I know, but it’s not true. I don’t love him, or his money.” She lifted her head and looked Mose in the eyes. “I promise you I didn’t lead him on. It’s Mamm. She keeps pushing me, insisting I encourage Samuel’s attention. Telling him to pursue me. I’m not interested in courting and marriage right now. Well, not with Samuel anyway.” She thought of Isaac, his dark hair shining in the sun across the picnic table, just before he told her he wasn’t interested in courting her. She took in a shuddering breath.
Patting Molly’s hand, Sarah asked, “And you’ve told Ulla this, made yourself clear?”
“Ya, I’ve done everything but stand on my head and shout my words at her. She just won’t listen. All she speaks of is the man’s connections, his big farm. The money he has.”
“Where are you staying?” Sarah asked, squeezing Molly’s hand.
“I don’t know yet,” Molly said in a raspy voice laden with tears.
“Moving out wasn’t the best course to take, Molly,” Mose said, his tone that of a big brother. “It’s not proper for a young woman to live alone. This world is a dangerous place. Especially for a young, innocent girl like you. You need to think hard about this. Your mother could have you banned from the church, and my father’s hands would be tied. Otto will not break Ordnung rules for anyone, not even you, liebling.”
Molly blinked. “Mamm’s already threatened to talk to your daed, but I’m not going back.” Molly’s eyes grew bright with determination. “I won’t!”
* * *
A restless night of tossing and turning at Mose and Sarah’s haus brought no relief to Molly’s troubled mind. She wiped the sweat off her brow with a napkin and washed her hands for the millionth time. The café had been busy all day,
and a half hour past closing time the stragglers were still asking for another cup of coffee or piece of pie.
She wanted to tell everyone to go home, walk out the door, but she put on her happy face and kept cleaning tables and booths, running for food when Willa Mae called out.
“How many customers we got now?”
Molly grabbed a hot plate of fries and dropped an empty ketchup bottle into the trash. “Two couples and a strange little man who’s having a great time talking to himself.”
“He’s not dangerous, is he?” Willa Mae scraped at the cooling grill, removing a day’s layer of fat and bits of egg white.
“Nee, not dangerous. He seems harmless enough.” Molly wiped down the food window while she talked, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to keep an eye on the front of the café.
“I called my landlady a minute ago. She’s got a place near me, but it’s an efficiency in her motel, ’bout the size of a closet.”
Molly could feel her face morphing from happy smile to worried frown. “Exactly how big is it?”
“She said maybe fourteen by fourteen feet, but it’s furnished and even has kitchen supplies.” Willa Mae’s smile was warm and bright, her teeth flashing white in the fluorescent lighting as if she’d just told Molly she’d just won the lottery. “She said you can rent it for as long as you need to. Two days, a month. It doesn’t matter to her, and it’s better than what you’ve got now. Nothing.”
The ugly truth hit Molly. Willa Mae was right. A small room was better than a park bench, and that was her plan B. “You think the room comes with sheets, too?”
“What you want for two hundred dollars a week? A swimming pool and spa?” Willa Mae pulled off her apron and reached for her walking shoes. “We closing this place down in five minutes, girl. Don’t let nobody in and don’t take no more orders. The grill’s clean and the coffeepots washed. No fill-ups.”
Molly walked to the front and locked the main door, trying to imagine a living room, bedroom and kitchen in one room. She gave up. It couldn’t be done. Molly’s head began to thump. Her feet already hurt, and she was tired of smelling French fries and fried beef patties. All she wanted was a hot shower and some sleep.
She made her way to the kitchen and watched as her boss washed her arms up to her elbows. “If I take the place, can I move in tonight?” She didn’t know what she’d do if the answer was no. Willa Mae had offered her a bed, but she had three half-grown kids and a grumpy husband. Her boss was being the kindhearted woman Pinecraft knew her to be, but Molly didn’t want to put her out, even for a night, and she’d bothered Sarah and Mose enough. Sarah was pregnant. She didn’t need the extra work.
“I’ll ring her and see what she says. She’s probably still up. She watches lots of TV, like us old folk do. You’ll probably be able to hear it in your apartment. She’s that close.”
Molly grimaced as she reached up to straighten her kapp.
“We all got to learn to be grateful for what we get in life, girl.” Willa Mae continued, “God don’t like no whiny kid crying to Him ’bout hardship.”
Molly smiled her apology. She was ashamed of her own childishness. “Thank you for calling your friend about the apartment. I’m sorry. I was being silly. I’m just scared.”
She could see her own reflection in Willa Mae’s dark eyes.
“None of us is perfect, child.” Her smile grew. “She might give you a discount. She likes to rent to you Amish folk. Says you pay on time and never run out on her.”
“I know you’re right about the apartment. I just had dreams.” Molly brushed down her white apron, ashamed of herself.
Willa Mae put her arm across Molly’s shoulders and squeezed. “We all have dreams. I wanted to be a famous movie star and make lots of money, but God said, ‘You be the best cook you can be.’ I didn’t go to Hollywood, but I did get this place and my kids. That’s enough. Sometimes enough has to be enough, Molly.” She laughed, her belly jiggling. “You’re young, but smart. One day you gonna meet some nice Amish man like that Isaac fella and get married. Children become your dream and a clean house your job. You’ll see if I’m not right.”
Molly thought of Isaac and a tiny boy with dark hair like his daed. She smiled, but then remembered she and Isaac were just pretending to court. He wouldn’t be her children’s father, but Gott would send someone someday, and he’d be a perfect match for her when she was ready. She believed that with all her heart.
* * *
Asked to come along as moral support an hour later, Isaac held the door as Molly and Lalalu, the motel manager, stepped into the apartment. The word tiny instantly came to Molly’s mind. She looked at Isaac, and he shrugged, silently telling her he had no opinion.
The room looked clean and didn’t smell.
Molly put on a brave face and handed over two crisp hundred-dollar bills. Lalalu looked both bills over carefully and then handed her a single key. Molly smiled her appreciation, grateful to have a place to lay her head for the next week.
Short, bony and her hair wild as if a tornado had styled it, Lalalu grinned and exposed gaps in her upper teeth. “Willa Mae said you’re dependable and a hard worker. That’s good enough for me.” A remarkable underbite left the woman’s jaw jutting like a bulldog’s. The colorful caftan she wore dragged on the floor as she pointed out a miniature bathroom off the back of the room.
Molly stuck her head through the open door. Most of the bathroom’s floor space was taken up by a walk-in shower with a plastic flamingo shower curtain that spilled out against a bowl-sized sink. The toilet was shoved into a corner of the room and low to the ground. The white fixtures sparkled clean and bright under a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
Isaac stuck his head in the confining space and rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “Big enough for one,” he remarked, and backed out into the living quarters.
“I won’t charge you a deposit, honey. I know you’ll be straight up with me. My Amish tenants are always tidy and quiet and pay on time.”
“Danke, I promise you I won’t be a bother.” Molly followed as her new landlady walked to the side of the bedroom.
“This here’s your kitchen area.”
Molly glanced at the wall across from the bathroom door. A short butcher-block counter had a mini-sink and backsplash, as well as two regular-sized electric burners. Wooden shelves lined with apple-trimmed paper held a plate, glass, two cups and a stack of saucepans. Molly glanced around, looking for a table to eat at and realized there was none. Not even a small one.
“I don’t supply TVs, but you can bring one in if you want.”
Molly blinked at her and blinked again. She’d read Alice in Wonderland as a child and felt just like Alice must have felt falling down the rabbit hole.
“I don’t watch television.” She straightened her kapp and tugged both ribbons to pull it down tighter on her head.
Isaac put his hand on the small of her back and then stepped aside as Molly moved to the bed. “Do you supply sheets, or will I need my own?” The bed looked made up, but perhaps there was just a bedspread on it for show.
Lalalu threw back the flowered spread and exposed white sheets neatly tucked in the foot of the bed. “We got you covered, Molly. I washed those sheets this afternoon and line dried them the way you Amish like.” She grinned as she glided back toward the apartment door. “I probably don’t need to tell you, but I’m gonna do it anyway.” Her bony finger pointed toward Molly. “You’re my renter. Not him.” She frowned at Isaac, her forehead crinkling into a road map of lines. “There’s to be no overnight guests.” Her eyes cut to Molly and then back to Isaac. “No loud music and no lounging in the yard in a bathing suit,” she advised in a carefree way.
“Ya, sure. That sounds fine. I’ll obey the rules.”
“I know you will,” the older woman said, then glance
d Isaac’s way again. “But what about you?”
Molly cringed as Isaac looked up, flushed red and then nodded. “Ya. That all sounds fine to me.”
“Good. Now you let me know if you need anything, Molly,” Lalalu murmured, then went out the door and shut it softly behind her.
The room was silent.
Molly could hear Isaac breathing.
She latched the dead bolt and wiggled the doorknob, making sure it locked and smiled at him nervously. “The deed is done.”
“Ya,” he said, watching her. “No going back now.” His eyes darkened. Was he concerned for her? Tonight would be the first time in her life she was completely alone.
She wandered around the room with Isaac trailing behind her at an easy pace. She checked out the apartment-sized refrigerator under the kitchen cabinet. The freezer compartment held an empty tray for ice, which left little room for anything else. The inside of the fridge was clean and smelled fresh.
She sniffed the new white dish towel hanging on a nail and smiled, the feeling of ownership finally sinking in. She had her own place, somewhere to come to after long days at the café.
“I’d better go before Lalalu comes back and kicks me out,” Isaac said, edging for the door.
“Danke for coming with me tonight.”
“You have to know I’m not sure about all this, Molly.” Isaac took another step toward the door.
“Ya, well. Mose thinks I’m making a mistake, too, but I had to take a stand.”
His hand on the doorknob, Isaac cleared his throat. “Make sure you lock this latch behind me.”
“I will.”
“Call me if you have any problems or...well, you know. Get scared or something.”
“I’m not a kinner, Isaac. I should be fine.” She fingered the key to her newfound freedom and slipped it into her apron pocket.
“Ya, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She tugged at her prayer kapp ribbons. “Tomorrow.”
The door shut behind him, and Molly locked the dead bolt. She saw the door handle wiggle. Isaac had checked to make sure she’d remembered that lock, too.
The Amish Midwife's Courtship Page 10
