by Amy Lillard
He shrugged and she read the motion as we’ll see about that.
“Amos, seriously.” She turned the burner off and added the coffee grounds to the pot. It beat trying to think of something clever to say. Anything to say, really. She was at a loss.
“Seriously, what?” He sat down again and leaned back in his seat. Could he tell that being so close to him was rattling her?
“I like you,” she said in a more normal tone. She poured coffee into a couple of mugs and set one in front of him. Then she eased into the chair across from him. “But I don’t want to get married again. I’m too old for all that dating nonsense and stuffed animals and flowers.”
“You’re too old for flowers?”
“What I mean is the dating process is behind me now. I’ve had two husbands. I’m not looking for a third.” She blew across her coffee, hoping the words were both casual and powerful. She needed for him to believe them, but she didn’t want to show too much emotion over the thought. Now that she had said the words out loud, they bothered her more than she thought they would.
“What about companionship, huh? What about that? Don’t you miss having someone to share your day with when the sun goes down? Someone to ride to church with, talk about the neighbors, share a cup of coffee?”
“You think I don’t have those things?”
“Tell me it’s the same,” he challenged. “Tell me riding to church with Charlotte gives you the same feeling that riding to church with Jason did.”
She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. She couldn’t say those words. They were too blatant a lie. “Okay. It’s not the same. But for everything there is a season.”
“I know the verse.”
“My season for love is passed.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe that. Has your season for companionship in your golden years passed as well?”
“Is that what all this is about?” Maybe that was what he wanted. Maybe he didn’t have any stronger feelings than wanting someone to be there at the end of the day. “You just want someone to talk to when the day is through?”
“Okay.” He heaved in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re probably going to think I’m crazy, but ... God told me that we’re supposed to be together. You and me.”
“What?” It was perhaps the last thing she would have imagined him saying.
“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m glad you told me.” Strangely enough, she thought it perhaps the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. “God told you that the two of us—you and me—are supposed to be a couple.” She wagged a finger between the two of them to make sure he understood the question. Or maybe so she could be sure.
“Jah.” He crossed his arms as if he was taking a stand on the matter.
“And it’s definitely supposed to be a romantic attachment?”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Well, maybe she was a little, but he was so earnest and heartfelt that she believed every word.
“Why do you ask?” He folded the edge of the placemat across the middle, then smoothed it out again.
“Because maybe God meant we were supposed to be something else.”
“Like business partners?”
“Like friends.”
He stopped fidgeting with the placemat and swung his attention to her. “Friends.” He said the word as if he had never heard it before. “Friends.” This time with a little more feeling. Then he smiled. “Friends,” he repeated. “I like that.”
“Jah?”
He nodded, his grin firmly in place. She thought she might have seen it get a little bit bigger. “What kind of things are we going to do?”
She hadn’t thought that far. She just knew that Amos believed with all his heart that God wanted them together. There were a lot of ways to be in a relationship. Friendship would suit them both. His instructions from God—and just for the record, she believed that God had talked to him—and her need to spend time with him without the romance aspect. In fact, it was perfect.
“We are having puzzle night here on Wednesdays. So Jenna and Charlotte can spend time together.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt family time.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “Everyone is invited. Titus, Abbie, the Kings. We just won’t know who will show up until they show up.”
“Puzzle night. I like that. What else?”
“I don’t know.”
He thoughtfully rubbed his chin whiskers. “What would you do with me if I were another woman?”
“Go shopping?”
“For groceries?”
She laughed. “For fabric and things.” When he was clueless, he was so very cute. She clamped down on that thought. He was a sixty-two-year-old man. Cute shouldn’t enter into the equation. She looked back at him, pondering the idea of shopping for fabric.
“Jah,” he finally said, and without even flinching. “I guess I could do that.”
Was she pushing it a bit? Maybe. “We need to get the material for Jenna’s wedding dresses.”
“Anything for Jenna,” he said with a grin. “Count me in. What else?”
She hoped she didn’t look as startled as she felt. “You think we need to do more?”
“Of course. What about the senior meetings? That’s tonight and every Monday. That could be fun.”
“Jah . . . okay.” She could do that. “Fabric shopping, senior meetings every Monday, puzzle night every Wednesday and all just as friends.”
“Home from church?” he asked.
“Don’t push, Amos.” She was nervous enough as it was.
He grinned. “Fine, but I need you to do one other thing ... as my friend.”
“What’s that?”
“Help me up from this chair. I’m not sure my knees are working right after all that planting.”
Nadine tried not to laugh as she pulled him to his feet. He had been right about one thing: They weren’t as young as they used to be.
* * *
“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Nadine looked around at all the familiar faces. Everyone in their church district who was over sixty and unmarried was there. Verna, Aubie, Cleon, John Yoder, everyone. “What are we doing here again?”
“We’re being friends.”
But since she had arrived at the meeting two weeks in a row with Amos, she was certain they were looking like a little more than friends.
“And macramé?”
He shrugged. “Everyone can use a plant hanger, right?”
If they had house plants, which she didn’t. She supposed if she was making a hanger, she would have to get some sort of plant to put in it. Seemed a little backwards, but there it was.
All eyes were on them as they made their way into the room. Maybe not all eyes, but it sure seemed like it. If they weren’t the talk of the district after last week’s meeting, then they certainly would be now.
Amos led her over to a table and sat down next to Aubie Hershberger. He was perhaps the easiest to sit next to since he seemed a little preoccupied. Not as much as Abe Fitch but close. But since he wasn’t the chatty type, they wouldn’t be called upon to make a lot of small talk.
The instructor called the class to order, made sure everyone had their proper supplies especially the large wooden beads and got down to the nitty gritty of macramé.
* * *
“It was fun,” Amos said as they pulled up to her house. He had driven them both to the meeting, after she had made him explicitly promise that it wasn’t a date. His argument was sound: There was no reason for both of them to use gas when they were both going to the same place.
“Maybe,” she said. “Want to come in for a cup of coffee between friends?”
“Absolutely.”
Charlotte was in the living room when Nadine let them into the house. She stood when she saw them, perhaps a little surprised t
hat the two of them were together. She had already changed into her nightgown. Nadine figured she was a tad depressed since Jenna was gone again, but she figured come Wednesday, all would be right again. At least for a while.
“I’ll just—” She pulled at the ties at the neck of her nightgown, picked up the book she had been reading, and quickly made her way across the room. “Good night.” Then she zipped up the stairs.
“Is she—” Amos asked.
Nadine shook her head. “You have to look at it from her point of view. She has spent the last twenty years of her life taking care of that girl. Now Jenna wants to take care of herself.”
“All parents go through that,” he said. “Well, I suspect they do. My family went through the same thing.”
“Jenna’s special.”
“I’m not going to argue with that.” He chuckled. “But she’s also smart and capable and loving and kind. All things that will sustain her.”
“And God,” Nadine added.
“And God.” Amos smiled. “Now about that coffee.”
“Right.” Nadine spun around and led the way to the kitchen.
As they had earlier in the day, Amos slipped into his seat while Nadine put the water on to boil. There on the counter next to the dish drainer the covered cake plate sat. She lifted the lid.
“Would you like a piece of coconut cake?” she asked. “It looks like Charlotte had been baking again.” She patted her waistline. She hoped she came out of this with only a few pounds gained and not doubling her size, which was what she felt like was going to happen.
“Charlotte made that?” Amos asked. “I’d love a piece.”
She cut them both a slice while the water boiled, then she added the coffee grounds.
“Does she do this often?” Amos asked.
Nadine chuckled. “About every three days.”
“Three days, huh?” He took a bite of the cake. “Wow. That is good. You think she’ll give me the recipe?”
“You’ll have to ask her.”
He scooped up another bite and chewed like he was in heaven. “Why every three days?” he asked, switching back to their earlier topic.
“That’s how long it takes us to finish off one of her desserts.”
“Then she bakes another,” he said.
“If she hasn’t already. Sometimes we have three or four sitting around.”
“What do you do with it all? You know, bachelor, hint, hint.”
“We give it away, eat it, Jenna takes a lot of it home with her to the Lamberts. Ironic, isn’t it? Charlotte bakes because she’s worried about Jenna living with the Lamberts then Jenna takes the desserts back to the farm for them to enjoy.”
“Very,” he said with a laugh. “But what we really need to concentrate on is having her make casseroles.”
“Casseroles?” Nadine asked.
“Sure. I can’t eat dessert for every meal.”
* * *
Nadine woke on Tuesday morning feeling fine. It might have even been the first morning she had awakened without a worry in her head. After she got up, and brushed her teeth and her hair, she remembered all the things she needed to be worried about, like Charlotte’s apparent depression and where she was going to get a house plant for the macramé holder she and Amos had made the night before.
Coffee afterward, that had been the best part of the night. Just sitting and talking with Amos about nothing and everything the way friends do. Maybe that would help Charlotte. Maybe a friend would help her adjust to the fact that Jenna was gone.
“Good morning,” she said to her daughter-in-law as she stopped in the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Charlotte was usually the first to rise and had the coffee already brewed by the time Nadine wandered down. As far as she was concerned, it was a fine setup. But this morning, Charlotte sat at the table, her eyes on her lap, and the coffeepot was cold. She hadn’t even gotten dressed.
“My turn to make coffee?” Nadine asked, filling the pot with water.
Charlotte looked up. “I’m sorry. I forgot.” She started to rise, but Nadine motioned her back into her seat.
“I can do it this morning.”
“Did you have fun with Amos last night?”
Nadine couldn’t stop her smile. “It was a lot of fun. Did you see the plant hanger we made?”
Charlotte shook her head.
“It’s in the living room. Not bad, I suppose, but the best part of it was mine came out better than Amos’s.” Finally, she was better than him at something. Two things—macramé and Dutch Blitz.
“Are you seeing him again today?”
Something in her voice had Nadine spinning around to look at her. Charlotte seemed on the verge of tears. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Just feeling sorry for myself. I suppose.”
“Well, quit that. It’s a beautiful day. You should be counting your blessings and singing God’s praises.”
“You’re chipper this morning.”
It was true; something about last night had set her mood right. Maybe because she liked Amos and she liked spending time with Amos, she just didn’t like talking about all the reasons why she didn’t want to get married again. Last night, she had gotten her wish, and it had suited her just fine.
“Are you seeing Amos today?” Charlotte asked again.
“He’s working at the bakery. Speaking of which, he loved your coconut cake and wanted to know if you would give him the recipe.”
Charlotte waved a hand as if the question was nothing but a pesky fly. “I don’t care. As long as he doesn’t give it to Esther Fitch.”
“I think he wants it to make himself a coconut cake, but I’ll make sure before I turn loose of it.” She thought it best not to bring up his quip about casseroles. “Plus, he promised to go fabric shopping with us tomorrow.”
“Shopping?”
“For wedding fabric.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t think I’m up to that. I think I might be coming down with something.”
Jah, wedding blues.
“Charlotte, you have to come. What if she finds the fabric she wants to use and you aren’t there?”
Charlotte sighed. “Maybe I’ll feel better in the morning.”
“Just rest.” Nadine finished the coffee and poured herself a cup. “Want one?”
Her daughter-in-law only nodded.
Nadine poured her a cup, then set out to cook breakfast.
They said starve a fever and feed a cold, but she had no idea what to do about empty nest blues.
Chapter Twelve
He had completely lost track of how long they had been in the fabric store. Couldn’t have been more than a few minutes; might have been an eternity. However long it really was, it seemed like an eternity. Now all the colors were beginning to look the same.
When they first arrived, the question had been about the darkness of the color, something he had never thought about even once in his life. Even then, he’d managed to listen to all the talk and not go find a chair somewhere out of the way. He had told Nadine that he wanted to be her friend and, the good Lord by his side, that was exactly what he was going to do. Even if it meant trying to choose between robin’s egg, pale ocean, and something called Tiffany blue, which confused him. Who was Tiffany, and why did she have her own color? Basically they were all blue-green, aqua sort of colors, but he couldn’t tell the benefit of one shade over another.
He looked around to see if there was a clock. Had it been hours? Maybe this friendship thing was not meant to be.
Or maybe she was testing him.
“I don’t know,” Charlotte said. “I think you should go with something darker.”
“I know, Mamm,” Jenna returned. Amos could tell from the stubborn slant of her jaw that darker was not part of her plan. “It’s down to these three colors.”
Charlotte studied them carefully.
Amos squinted and turned his head to one side. They all still looked the same. He turned away and continue
d to look around for the clock.
He didn’t think he’d ever been in a fabric store before. That was all they had, just fabric and something called notions, which he had learned were all the doodads that went with sewing—buttons, snaps, and zippers. Sixty-two and he had learned something today. That was good, right?
“Amos, what do you think?”
“Huh?” He swung his attention back to Nadine. “What?”
“Which one is your favorite?”
He looked at the material. Nope. Hadn’t changed one bit. They still all looked the same.
He raised his gaze to the three women. Somehow, they had ended up shoulder to shoulder on the other side of the display table from him. The three had-to-be-different-in-some-way pale blue fabrics between them. He looked at the women. They looked at him.
“I . . . uh—” What to say? What to say? Color had never meant that much to him. He wore what he was supposed to and never questioned it beyond that. Now he was being asked to do the impossible and choose between three identical—at least to him—colors.
He had gone shopping with his mamm and his sisters growing up, and he tried to remember what they did when faced with such a dilemma. He couldn’t think of a thing.
And now he was out of time. He waved his hands around as if that would give him more insight. It didn’t, and he lowered them to rest on the fabric in front of him.
Touch! That was it. He twisted his face into an expression he hoped looked thoughtful and rubbed the fabric between his fingers. “This one,” he said, pointing to the bolt. He wasn’t sure if it was pale ocean or robin’s egg.
“That one?” Jenna asked.
He nodded. “It’s the softest by far. And it doesn’t look like it will wrinkle. You’ll be in the dress all day, right? You want it to be comfortable and beautiful, jah?”
Jenna nodded. “Jah. I never thought about wrinkles.”
A sparkle of admiration flashed in Nadine’s eyes, yet in a quick moment it was gone. But he had seen it. Looked like he had passed friendship test number one.
* * *
From the look on Amos’s face, Nadine could tell that he thought fabric shopping meant shopping for fabric. Once they had—with his help, of course—decided on what color, they moved on to the rest of what they needed. Poplin for the aprons, white fabric for the men’s shirts, black for the pants and vests. Then buttons, snaps, and thread.
