“I did exactly like you said. This time it was Tom’s sister, one of the guys I play basketball with at the YMCA. Last night she tagged along, and after our game I asked her out to eat. I asked really nicely if she wanted to go out for ice cream—something very innocent. She said, ‘No way! Nothing doing.’”
“Maybe she’s already seeing someone?”
“She’s not.” He gulped down the last of the doughnut.
“Then maybe you should try again. Don’t you Englisha have something called ‘playing hard to get’?”
“I think I’m quitting the Englisha team and joining the Amish,” he said, getting to his feet. “Come on, let’s go. I have stuff to do. I can’t babysit you all evening.”
“You know I didn’t ask you to do this,” Susan said, following him out. “What if I wreck and kill you tonight?”
“Then my ghost will haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“Whoa…” Susan said. “Spooky, are we?”
“So will you drive good tonight?” he asked, sliding in on the passenger’s side.
“Better.” She smiled, snapping her seat belt on before starting the engine. “I’ll think horses and buggies and pulling left and right.”
“Whatever works,” he said. “Just go.”
Susan carefully pulled out onto the street and headed down Main.
“So you would join the Amish?” she teased. “You wouldn’t like it, believe me.”
“Turn left here,” he said and she obeyed.
“Let me choose the route tonight, Robby.”
“I guess it will be all right. Just don’t get us killed.”
She drove along quietly for a minute and then said again, “So would you really consider joining the Amish?”
“I don’t know.” He wasn’t looking at her. “I need to do something different.”
“You’re sure blue tonight over this girl thing. But joining the Amish isn’t the answer, believe me. I’m leaving the Amish, so I should know.”
“I’m not serious,” he said. “But Mom says this girl Teresa is.”
“So you know about her?” Susan braked for a red light.
“Mom told me about her. By the way, I’m supposed to tell you everything is going fine.”
“The appointment? It went well?” Susan turned to look at him.
“Watch the road,” he ordered.
“I am watching, but tell me what your mom said.”
“Mom said Teresa went to the doctor and there were no problems. Her mother went along too.”
“They live together.”
“Teresa was very concerned about you, asking whether you had written to the Amish people. Mom told her you had. And Mom said there were tears when the ultrasound showed the baby would be a boy.”
“I imagine there were,” Susan said. “So Teresa guessed correctly. She’s been saying it is a boy. Amazing!”
“Are you going to cry too?” Robby asked. “If so, I want to drive.”
“I’m not crying.”
“They have another appointment next week,” Robby went on. “And the baby is due in December. Teresa didn’t know her dates for sure, which is, of course, more information than I wanted to know. But Mom said to pass it on.”
“You’re a sweet boy,” Susan said, turning at the light.
“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Robby asked.
“No, but I was depending on you to know.”
“That’s what I figured. So turn left here, and we can make our way back.”
“So when are we going out on the ocean?” Susan asked. “Remember? You promised.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“To be honest, I had kind of forgotten it until just now. There’s been so much going on. My GED studies, the driving, and now Teresa. There’s no hurry, I guess.”
“It’s good of you to be so understanding,” he said, bitterness clouding his voice. “It’s a shame there aren’t more of you.”
“Robby, now come on. You have to keep trying. There are nice girls out there! You’ll find the one for you. Besides, you won’t think me so nice if I turn green and throw up all over your boat.”
“You probably won’t even get seasick,” he said.
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“You’ve never been out on the ocean before?”
“No, but don’t rub it in. Remember, I’m from inland country. We don’t have an ocean in Indiana.” She let out a sigh and added, “The ocean was so beautiful that night of the almost-full moon. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember. Turn right at the light.”
“Almost as beautiful as the moon rising over the fields at home.”
“Where do you see that from?” he asked.
“From my bedroom window,” she said, recognizing the street they were on. The bakery lay just ahead.
“That would be an experience,” he said with a sad smile. “Well, we’re back—and all in one piece. I would say the country girl is doing very well. A few more times, and you should be ready.”
“Thanks for taking me,” she said. “And so often.”
“I’m glad to,” he said as they both climbed out.
He waited until she’d unlocked her apartment door before he took off.
It must be a thing with men in the city, she thought. Thomas never waited until she was inside the house. Rather, she stood and watched him go out the driveway on Sunday nights, until his buggy lights disappeared into the distance. But that was part of the past and best forgotten.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Susan stood in front of the closet, running her fingers over the dresses. Which Englisha dress would it be tonight? Duane hadn’t seen the beige one yet. Would he think she was wearing new dresses to impress him? That decided it. She pushed the beige dress aside. She would wear Amish tonight. Her past was Amish, and she was still dealing with Amish things right now. Duane might as well be reminded of that fact. The nice, light-blue dress would be just the thing. At least it didn’t scream Amish at first sight like several of her other dresses.
After she changed, Susan sat down to study the GED lessons she’d printed out. She wanted to spend every available minute studying. There was no sense standing at the window watching for Duane. No decent girl hung around windows watching for her date to arrive. At home Thomas’s buggy wheels would have rattled in the driveway, but here one roar of a car engine couldn’t be distinguished from another. Duane would have to knock.
The math numbers swam in front of her eyes, and Susan shook her head, wiping her eyes with her finger. She wasn’t crying, was she? It had to be her imagination! Her mind left the math problems and turned toward home. No, I can’t be homesick! Why should I be? Things are going well, aren’t they? Yes! The thought that Mamm and Daett might get the wrong idea when they got her letter troubled her. But there was Laura’s solution of a trip home. Could she do it? Should she?
Yah, in some ways a trip home would be gut, Susan told herself. And after Thanksgiving would be just right. Being there for the holiday would be too sad if they knew she was leaving again. But seeing the farm and attending church services would no doubt remove some of the nostalgia that seemed to be hanging around lately. And another good thing about a trip home: Thomas would see her again and realize what he’d missed out on by switching his affections to Eunice. Yah, now that would be a sight to see!
Math! Susan sighed and turned back to the problems, scribbling the answers on her paper in pencil and then checking them when she was done. Most of them were correct. English she was good at, but these math equations were a little complicated. Amish math lessons didn’t reach into the realm of symbols. It stayed with plain adding, subtracting, dividing, and multiplying. Like much of Amish life, even in education they stuck with the basics.
Perhaps Duane would help me with math. Do I dare ask him? Maybe. I’ll see how it goes. Exposing one’s ignorance to a man was a little scary—especially to such a handsome man. Is he getting serious
about me? Likely not. He hasn’t even kissed me. And don’t Englisha men kiss women fairly quickly and often? Yah, they did.
Thomas had never kissed her in all the time they’d known each other—except once. It had happened when she agreed to marry him. He had kissed her then, a slight touch on the lips, almost like he was afraid of her. His hands had brushed her shoulders, leaving without a hug. She had wanted a hug. Shouldn’t a woman at least get a hug on her engagement evening? And here he had gone kissing Eunice the first chance he got.
She knew Thomas found her attractive. At least his eyes said so… and his words. But what were his words worth? Not much, from how things had turned out.
Math! she reminded herself. Susan turned back to the paper. She must study math. A thump came from the street below. Had Duane arrived? She walked to the top of the stairs to listen. She heard nothing else, so she walked over to the window and looked out. Everything was normal, the flow of traffic on the street ebbing after the evening rush hour.
It must have been street noise, Susan thought, glancing back toward her work on the kitchen table. Sighing, she stayed at the window. If she thought life was confusing, how must Teresa feel? Teresa was expecting a child. Now that would be confusion—with no husband around and her mother not wanting her to keep the child. How did the young woman find the strength to do what she did? To believe at all? To hope there could be a better life for her child? What bravery Teresa had.
Perhaps that was why Teresa had latched on to the image of the Amish. It was something she could see—the buggies on TV, the bearded men with their women beside them. They were together, secure, and at home on their farms. The wash flapping in the wind, the children underfoot, people loved and protected. No wonder the girl grabbed for straws! And she had no idea how hopeless her idea of finding an Amish family for her son might ultimately be.
Would I have that kind of courage in a similar situation? Going Englisha had been more about running away than believing in anything. But yah, I came looking for love—still believing it can be found even after my heart was stomped on. Isn’t that courage? A little at least! But compared to Teresa’s, it doesn’t seem like much.
Now here she was, standing at the window and staring out and Duane just pulled up to the curb. He would think she’d been waiting for him, longing for his presence. Susan laughed. The one time she moved to the window, Duane showed up. Great. She grabbed her purse and was halfway down the stairs when the knock came.
She opened the door. “Good evening, Duane.”
Duane nodded. “Good evening, Susan.” He took in her dress.
“You don’t mind the Amishness, do you?” she asked.
“No. You look great. In fact, you are one of the only girls I know who looks good in an Amish dress!”
“I doubt you know any other girls who wear Amish dresses.”
“True,” he said as they walked to his car. “But it was supposed to be a compliment anyway.”
As they secured their seat belts, Duane spoke. “How did your day go?”
“The usual. Robby came by this evening for another driving lesson. They aren’t quite as scary anymore. For me or for Robby.”
“He gives you driving lessons?”
“Yes. Well, sort of. The first one was mostly a lesson. The rest of the time it’s just me driving and him telling me which way to turn.”
“You know you could go to a driving school.”
“Laura and Robby didn’t mention that. I suppose it’s expensive.”
“Safe though.” He raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t wrecked Robby’s car, have you?”
“Not yet! Don’t tease me.”
“Sorry. I was kidding, of course.”
“Okay.” Susan took a deep breath.
“I’m glad you could come,” he said.
“It’s nice of you to invite me out again so soon. And I think I figured out what I can shop for tonight.”
“What is it?”
“Something for Teresa’s baby. Wouldn’t that be just the thing? The poor girl is in so much trouble. My heart really goes out to her.”
“So you’ve been caught up in one of Laura’s charity projects?” he said.
“Is that what they are? Remember, the young woman came to me at the bakery for help.”
“You and Laura have soft hearts,” he said. “That is good. Laura is a great woman—and so are you for caring.”
“Maybe I’m Laura’s charity project,” Susan said.
He laughed. “Then she picked a good one. Although, believe me, you are no charity project. I’m sure Laura finds you a great help.”
“I hope so.”
“And the Amish don’t have sordid pasts. Not like Teresa does anyway, right?”
“No.” Susan felt warmth pushing up her neck. What if he knew about the suspicions that she might be arousing at home? That was enough to make anyone feel dirty all the way through.
“I didn’t expect so,” he said. “I guess that’s one of the good points.”
“Rumors can also be hurtful,” she said. “And Amish aren’t exempt from them.”
“Do have you some floating around? That’s hard to imagine,” he said, smiling.
“It’s not funny,” Susan said.
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry I gave you that impression.”
“I suppose I’m just touchy on the subject. See, if you go into the Englisha world, folks back home start talking about you pretty easily.”
“That Englisha thing is funny,” he said. “The Englisha. It sounds like the invasion of 1812.”
“Now that is funny!” she said. “We studied the war in eighth grade social studies. We use the word Englisha to describe outsiders. I don’t know how someone would change that. Even if it doesn’t make sense to you, it makes sense to us.”
“I see,” he said. “That’s interesting.”
“Speaking of studies, would you be willing to help me with math?” she asked.
“You’re doing math? Why?”
“I’m studying for my GED. I think I told you about it. But you must think that’s silly. You’ve been through college and everything.”
“No, not silly at all, Susan,” he said. “I think it’s gutsy of you. Really, it is. You don’t have to be ashamed. If you pass your GED, you can go on to college if you want to.”
“Me? Go to college?”
“Sure! Why not?”
“Should I go to college?”
He shrugged. “It’s a personal decision, of course, along with whatever financial considerations there are.”
“Would you go to college if you were me?”
“Sure. But I’m not you. It has to be your choice.”
“I’m not used to having so many choices,” she said.
“There’s more around here than on the farm, that’s for sure.”
“It comes from being Amish,” she said. “So will you consider looking over the test sample I did? And give me some advice on the math problems?”
“Sure. When would it suit you?”
“I think the question is when would it suit you?”
“How about Sunday afternoon?”
“At my place?” Belatedly she thought, Is there anything wrong with having him come to my apartment? We would be alone…
“Sunday then,” he said. “Later on in the afternoon, perhaps. Can you last that long without my wisdom?”
“I’ll try,” she said.
Duane pulled into the parking lot of the Monmouth Mall and found a spot close to the entrance.
“I’m starved!” he said, as they got out of the car. “Shall it be shopping or eating first?”
“We’d better eat,” she said. “I don’t want you passing out on the floor.”
“Pizza?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Inside the mall, he led the way toward the Pizza Hut sign halfway down the first corridor.
“What will it be?” he asked when they arrived and glanced up at the me
nu board.
“Whatever you order, I’ll take a few pieces.”
“I’ll be ordering a meat lover’s. Does that sound okay?”
“Yah,” she said. “That sounds good. I’m not hard to satisfy when it comes to pizza.”
He ordered and paid the cashier. Susan filled her drink cup, and they chose a booth to wait in until their number was called.
When it was announced a few minutes later, Duane said, “That was fast! They must have the popular pizzas made up ahead of time.”
Duane returned with the pizza on an aluminum tray and set it on the table.
“It sure smells gut,” Susan said.
“Do you have pizza on the farm?” Duane asked.
“Yes, but we make our own.”
“I bet that would taste even better,” he said. “Let’s pray and then find out how good this one is.”
He bowed his head, and she followed suit.
When he pronounced “Amen,” Susan looked up and motioned at the pizza with her hand. “You go first.”
He removed a piece, sliding it onto a small plate. He waited for her. She picked up a smaller piece and took a bite, and he did the same.
“It’s good!” she said. “It has the same good taste as Mamm’s does.”
“Then to the good name of mother…er, Mamm, and Pizza Hut.” He lifted his piece of pizza as if in a toast.
He is more laid back tonight, Susan decided. That made her relax a bit. She realized that in the Englisha world she was more of a Pizza Hut person than a fancy Italian restaurant type. She imagined she could get used to fancy restaurants if she had to. What would it be like to marry Duane? Stop! Quit imagining a future that might include such a thing, she ordered. Duane is simply a friend and nothing more, is he not? And that is gut. I need friends.
They ate in companionable silence occasionally broken by small talk.
“Done?” he asked, finishing his third piece.
“Yes, I think so,” she said. “Let’s go to Penney’s.
“I’ll follow you,” he said. “I don’t come here much.”
“You can do something else while I shop if you want to,” she said. “I won’t be long.”
He shook his head. “Baby shopping it will be. I’ll tag along.”
Missing Your Smile Page 21
