Romancing Nadine

by Amy Lillard

  Nonsense, that was what she’d called dating. How could dating—learning about a person you cared about, spending time with them, and getting to know them better while you allowed them to know you—how could that be nonsense?

  It couldn’t be. And he wasn’t believing otherwise.

  At the road, he pointed his tractor toward his home and chugged along.

  He had almost given up hope that there was someone out there for him. Or at least on ever meeting her. And now that he had, well, he supposed that he’d thought it’d be easier than this. That she would have been waiting all this time for him too.

  One of God’s little tricks, he supposed. He had found the one person he wanted to spend his life with, and she wanted nothing to do with him or dating or sharing cookies and cake.

  Just what kind of woman had God intended for him? And how was he supposed to get her to change her mind?

  * * *

  “Where’s Amos?” Charlotte asked as Jenna came back through the door.

  Nadine jerked her thumb over one shoulder. “Outside. He’ll be in in a minute.”

  “Actually,” Jenna started, twisting her hands together, “he’s on his way home.”

  What? Somehow she managed to keep the word echoing around in her head instead of floating around the room for all to hear.

  “Why would he do that?” Charlotte asked. “Was he feeling all right?”

  Jenna nodded. “I think so, jah.” Then she turned and gave Nadine an accusing stare. Or maybe it was a regular look that felt like an accusing stare because she was feeling so guilty.

  “Open your presents,” Buddy cried, clapping his hands and bouncing on his toes. “I’m ready to eat the cake.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Mamm said we couldn’t have cake until you opened your presents,” Jenna explained.

  “Well, then,” Nadine said, adding way too much forced brightness to her tone. “I guess I should open the presents then.”

  Jenna pulled out a chair at the table and motioned her into it. Nadine sat when she felt a little more like running away. And not just for the way she had treated Amos. She didn’t like being the center of attention. She didn’t like everyone looking at her, fawning over her. She preferred to be left alone most days. But then, when birthdays rolled around, she always played along. Up until today, she had been able to contain the get-togethers they normally had. But as she looked at the stack of presents and the people gathered round, she figured Jenna had had something to do with this party.

  With a forced smile and a heart that really was grateful even if she did want to go upstairs and shut herself in her room, Nadine started opening presents.

  There was a shawl from Charlotte, one that she had knitted herself. Every two years or so, Charlotte would make Nadine a new shawl and gift it to her for her birthday or Christmas. A fabric Bible cover from Priscilla and Emmanuel, two dozen peanut butter cookies from Esther’s Bakery from Jenna and Buddy, and a do-it-yourself calendar kit from Titus and Abbie.

  Jenna leaned in close as Nadine finished thanking the last couple for their gift. “I helped them pick it out,” she whispered. Nadine smiled. She would have known whether Jenna had told her or not.

  “One more.” Buddy handed her the final present, and she recognized it as the one that Amos had brought.

  And he wasn’t there to thank.

  He hadn’t had to bring a gift. And she had to admit that her heart thawed a bit knowing that he had picked something out for her.

  Of course, he could have gone through his house and wrapped something up that he didn’t want any longer. The package wasn’t very large but was lumpy and a little awkward.

  She tore at the brightly decorated paper. It could be anything, she supposed. Anything at all that was a little bigger than the size of her hand.

  The last of the paper fell away and she found herself holding a can opener. It was the kind that had to be twisted around the top of the can, of course, but it had thick, spongy handles in the prettiest shade of purple that she had ever seen. The part that had to be twisted was also thicker than she had ever seen, and she supposed it was to make it easier to turn. These days, with her hands the way they were, any little bit would help.

  “What is it?” Jenna asked.

  Nadine turned it around to show everyone.

  “A can opener?” Buddy wrinkled his nose. “A can opener?”

  Priscilla took a step forward. “I saw one of those at the state fair last year. It’s supposed to be easier on your hands.”

  “Looks that way,” Charlotte commented.

  “And it’s lifetime guaranteed. You’ll never have to buy another can opener for the rest of your life,” Jenna effused.

  At her age, that wasn’t saying a whole lot. But she did like the look of it. And it was purple. She had never had any purple kitchen appliances before. She wondered if she could do her whole kitchen in purple. What would the bishop have to say about that?

  Nothing, because when and if she decided to do that, she would enlist the help of James Riehl. He loved purple and everyone loved James, and that would be that.

  “It’s a nice gift,” she said, giving a smile that was only half forced, and that was because she had so much on her mind.

  Amos had gotten her a nice gift, but she wasn’t sure if she should call him out for addressing the fact that she was old or thank him for the most thoughtful gift she had ever received.

  * * *

  And she still hadn’t decided the next day as she pulled the tractor to a stop and hopped down.

  This was where he lived?

  It wasn’t a house. It was a trailer, a single-wide mobile home set in the middle of a field. On either side, corn was planted up to only a few feet from his house ... trailer. And it looked to be the same around back. Amos Fisher lived on a small track of land in the middle of a corn field! He didn’t even have room enough to plant a garden of his own.

  What concern of it was hers? So he wouldn’t have any homegrown tomatoes. He could do like the rest of Wells Landing and drive to the farmer’s market and buy some. What did she care?

  She didn’t, and she wasn’t about to say anything about it either. She was already feeling guilty enough.

  Partly it was Jenna’s fault; that girl could be stubborn as a mule.

  Nadine took up the package from the side of her seat and made her way to the porch.

  She couldn’t lay all the blame on Jenna. And if she was being honest, the only blame was that Jenna had invited him in the first place, if that could even be called blame. Everything else was on her.

  And that was why she was there now.

  She picked her way across the tiny, mostly dirt yard to the worn wooden steps that led to the door. The door itself left a little to be desired. A big dent marred the bottom as if someone had, at some time, decided to kick it open. The white paint was scarred and scratched, and a tiny crack bisected the corner of the diamond-shaped window.

  The entire place seemed rundown and . . . sad. But she had come all this way and she was going to see this through.

  She knocked on the door and waited for an answer. A moment passed, and she thought she heard something, though she wasn’t certain. She listened closely, then knocked again.

  Suddenly, the door wrenched open, and Amos Fisher filled the space where it had been.

  Those blue eyes widened, and he took a step back, his surprise nearly physical.

  “Nadine?”

  She cleared her throat and raised the small plastic container she carried. “I brought you some cake.”

  “Cake?” He remained standing in the doorway as if she had shocked him dumb.

  “Yesterday, at the party. You left before getting a piece of cake. So I’m bringing you one.”

  He visibly roused himself, then moved back to allow her to enter. “Come in. Come in.”

  She shook her head and tried to hand the container to him. “Just take it.”

  “Did Jenna put you u
p to this?”

  “No. I mean, I wanted you to have a piece of cake. You didn’t have to leave early yesterday.”

  “I beg to differ,” he said. “But come on in and we can talk about it over cake.”

  She wanted to tell him no. How she wanted to set the container on the top step, head to her tractor, and scoot on back home, but if she did, she would look to be a bigger sourpuss than she already had been. “Jah. Okay.” Like that was any better.

  She stepped into the house, surprised by what she saw. Clean, tidy, everything inside appeared to be in its place while the outside ... well, the weather skirting had been pulled up and the door with all its dings and dents. But inside was homey, cozy even, and she had no problem picturing Amos living there.

  To the left was a kitchen-dining area with a hallway leading deeper inside. On the right, a small living space complete with a rocking chair and crocheted afghans.

  “Come sit,” Amos said, gesturing toward the small dining table. There were only three chairs, and she wondered how frequently he had company. However often, she suspected that he didn’t entertain many people at one time.

  He moved to the kitchen cabinet and took out two saucers, then pulled two forks from one of the drawers.

  Nadine made herself as comfortable as possible and waited for him to sit down with her. It wasn’t that the chairs themselves were hard to adjust to; she was merely uncomfortable in her own skin.

  He sat, and she popped the lid from the plastic container. “I didn’t really bring enough for two people.” Thankfully, her voice sounded apologetic. She was here to make amends, not get under his skin.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But birthday cake is always better when shared.”

  She smiled. She supposed he was right about that.

  “There it is,” he said. “I knew you could do it.”

  “Do what?” She picked up her fork and cut off a small piece of the cake. She hadn’t come to eat sweets. The cake was for him.

  “Smile.” He took out his own piece of cake, which amounted to only half of what was left in the container.

  “I’ve smiled before.”

  “Not around me, you haven’t.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure I have.”

  “Not a real smile. That was a real smile.”

  Nadine set her fork down without eating one bite of the delicious cake. “I suppose you think I’m a real grouch.”

  “No.” He shook his head and cut a bite of cake with the side of his fork. “I saw you with Jenna after church and at the bakery. You’re not a grouch to everybody.”

  She sighed. “Only to you.”

  He waited a moment to eat the bite he had prepared. “I’m sure you have your reasons.”

  “It’s not you.”

  “Isn’t that one a little overused?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  He nodded. “It’s not me. I got it. So if it really isn’t me, what is it?”

  She did her best to collect her words, but they slipped through her grasp and she struggled to explain her actions. “You seem intense,” she finally said.

  “Me?”

  “Maybe that’s not the right word. Serious? You are determined.” She sat back in her seat, thankful to have found the word that she was looking for.

  “I guess you could say that, jah.”

  “What are you determined to do?”

  He cleared his throat and moved back in his seat as well, though he never took his gaze from her. “I like you, Nadine Burkhart.”

  She shook her head. “You barely know me.”

  “I know I like what I see.”

  Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

  “I’m mighty flattered.” Maybe it was time to go. She set down her fork and stood. “Thanks for sharing the cake with me.”

  “You only ate one bite.”

  “Danki.” She turned and started toward the door. It was merely feet away, and he made it there before her.

  “What are you so afraid of?”

  You! she wanted to cry. There was something about him that unnerved her. Scared wasn’t the best word. Around him, she felt a little unhinged, as if her body were no longer her own. As if she didn’t control her movements any longer. Or her thoughts or her feelings. It was as if she had been taken over by an outer-space alien. Not that there really were those sorts of things. But still ...

  “What do you want from me, Amos?”

  “I want to get to know you better.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, and she had to admit she loved the way his shoulders moved. How ridiculous was that? “We might find out that we like each other.”

  “You already said you liked me.”

  “We might find out that we like each other,” he repeated. “And maybe from there, we could court.”

  “And get married.”

  He had the grace to turn pink around the ears. “Jah. Maybe.”

  She was shaking her head before he even finished. “I’m not getting married again, Amos.”

  His forehead crinkled into a mass of frown lines. “How can you say that? You don’t know what the future brings.”

  “I know me,” she said. “I know my heart.”

  “A woman’s heart can be a fickle thing.” He chuckled, she supposed to take the sting from his words. It didn’t work.

  “I’ve had love,” she finally said. “I don’t expect to find it again.” Her knees wobbled. She needed to get out of there while she still could.

  “You don’t have to leave.” Once again, his ears looked like they were sunburned.

  “Yes,” she said. “I do. Good-bye, Amos.”

  * * *

  Amos sat down at his dining table and looked out the window. From his seat, he could see Nadine on her tractor, heading back down his drive. A moment more and there was a small curve and she was out of sight.

  Good-bye, Amos.

  That sounded so final.

  He picked up his fork and took a bite of the cake straight from the container. He had to admit, it was good cake. He liked his recipe better, but it certainly didn’t taste like the average store-bought cake. But this was different too because this was Nadine’s birthday cake and that, in itself, made it special.

  There had been so many things he wanted to say to her when she told him she didn’t expect to find love again. How could she believe that? Did she not realize that God wouldn’t want her alone? God is love. The Bible said as much. Nadine was special, maybe a little on the grouchy side, but what did he expect? She thought she would never find love again; he supposed confronting her with the opposite was surely unsettling.

  So what did he do now? He scraped the last of the icing from the container and licked it off the fork. He had avoided sweets most of his life. He had a gigantic sweet tooth that would surely have him getting new, bigger clothes every year. But once he had turned sixty, he decided he was going to eat what he wanted. Maybe not every time he wanted it, but more, anyhow. If he had to buy new pants or have them made, he would. He was going to enjoy his life. That was one reason Nadine’s attitude vexed him so. She would never find love again if she didn’t let herself, and she was not letting herself.

  Which led him right back to what he was going to do about it?

  He looked at the container in the sink. It wasn’t the “good stuff,” but it was still a nice container and should be returned to its owner. Which gave him the perfect excuse to visit. And his mother taught him never to return a dish without putting something in it first. That was her way of saying thank you.

  He would wash the container, bake something, and carry the container back to Nadine.

  He looked at the calendar. Not today, but maybe tomorrow. That was Saturday, the perfect day for visiting. Whether she wanted a visit or not.

  Amos didn’t like the way that sounded, but he knew this was all for Nadine’s good. He knew in his heart of hearts that God had brought them here so they could be together.
But just in case he was wrong, he wanted Nadine to be happy, and in order to do that, she needed to be open to love. And he was just the man for the job.

  * * *

  “Amos is here,” Charlotte said.

  Nadine looked down at the yarn in her lap and the blanket she had been knitting. She had honed the craft over the last forty years, and somehow this project had gotten completely away from her. The blanket was much larger than she had anticipated, and the further they got into the summer, the harder it would be to work on. “Jah?” She tried her best to sound disinterested.

  Charlotte moved away from the window and toward the door.

  Nadine gathered up her knitting supplies and shook her head. “Tell him I’m not here.”

  “But—”

  “I’m not here.” She didn’t want to see him. Couldn’t. He had said some pretty insightful things the other day. Insightful and hurtful and wrong. She couldn’t ask for love again. Not after all that she had received over the years. And the sooner Amos Fisher figured that out, the better off they all would be.

  Charlotte shook her head and waited for Nadine to gather her things and head down the hall before opening the door.

  Nadine could hear them from the doorway of her room, even if she couldn’t see them.

  Amos had brought their container back. He had filled it with banana bread. He had wanted to see Nadine and was sad that she wasn’t around.

  “Maybe next time,” Charlotte had told him.

  Another few minutes passed and then Amos was gone.

  Nadine emerged from her hiding place in the darkened hallway next to her room.

  “He brought banana bread.” Charlotte opened the container so Nadine could see. “It looks homemade.”

  “Where did he get homemade banana bread?”

  Charlotte didn’t answer. She was too busy eating a slice of the bread. It looked good, delicious even. Soft and moist. Nadine could see the chips of walnuts and pecans inside.

  “What if he made it?” Charlotte asked.