by Amy Lillard
But he held up through it all. Did being her friend really mean so much to him, that he would spend the better part of the morning bored out of his mind? And he was. She could tell. What man wouldn’t be? But he stuck it out for her. And maybe Jenna.
Once everything had been rung up, the four of them made their way out to the street.
“Let’s get a piece of pie,” Amos said. “I haven’t been to Kauffman’s in ages.”
“How’s Esther going to feel about that?” Nadine asked.
Amos grinned. “I’ll get an order of onion rings and tell her that’s why I went in.”
“You’re sneaky.”
He shrugged.
“I would love to,” Jenna said. “But I need to get back to the farm to uh . . . give the babies their baths. Uh-huh. I promised Abbie I would do that today. Bathe them.” She gave them a jaunty wave. “See you tonight at puzzle night.”
Nadine waved, cautioned her to be safe, and turned back to Charlotte and Amos.
“How about you?” He looked to her daughter-in-law.
Charlotte shook her head. “I best be getting home. I need to make a dessert for tonight.”
“You just made a coconut cake day before yesterday.”
“And it’s half gone.” She sent a pointed look in Amos’s direction.
“And it was good.” He rubbed his belly, not an ounce of shame in his grin.
“Maybe next time,” Charlotte said. She wished them farewell and headed for her tractor.
“I guess it’s just you and me then.”
She looked from Charlotte’s departing back to Amos. “If you’re going to take me home afterward.”
He smiled and turned her toward Kauffman’s. “Anything you need, bestie.”
* * *
Once again, he had to hold back his strut as he entered a room with Nadine at his side. Or, in this case, a restaurant.
Kauffman Family Restaurant was a Wells Landing icon. A few years back, it actually caught fire, but thanks to the volunteer fire department, most of the building had been saved. And of course they’d rebuilt. But all that was before Sadie Kauffman left the Amish and married the Mennonite Ezra Hein. If Amos was remembering right, Ezra had an exotic animal ranch where he raised and sold bison, deer, and other meats. He and Nadine should take a trip out there to see them. That might be a lot of fun.
“Hi, Amos,” Cora Ann Kauffman greeted him. She gave a polite nod to Nadine. “Two?”
Amos nodded. “Jah, please.”
She turned toward the menus. “Are you eating a full meal or are you just here for the pie?”
“Pie,” Amos replied.
“I thought you were getting onion rings,” Nadine countered.
“I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”
“Deal.”
They followed behind Cora Ann, winding through the tables until she stopped in front of a booth. “Sadie’s here somewhere. She’ll be your server. I’ll get her for you.” She smiled prettily. “Enjoy your pie.”
“Danki,” Amos said. He slid into one side of the booth while Nadine slid into the other. Just the way it was supposed to be with friends, but if they had done this with another couple or even two more people, say Charlotte and Jenna, then he would have been able to sit side by side with her and eat delicious pie.
“Why did they ask if you wanted a meal or pie?” Nadine asked.
“They always do. I guess so you can have the pie menu without having to look through all the other things listed that you aren’t going to eat.”
“I guess a lot of people just come here for the pie.”
“Guilty.” Amos smiled at her, and she nailed him with her sharp stare.
“I thought you liked the onion rings.”
“It’s not mutually exclusive. You can get a meal one visit and come back the next and just get pie. America’s great that way.”
She shot him another look. “Don’t get cheeky.”
“Pardon me,” he said, “but I do believe that you started it.”
“Hi.” A young dark-haired woman stopped by their table.
“Hi, Sadie,” Amos said.
“Good to see you again, Amos.” She nodded to Nadine. “Have you decided what you’d like today?”
“Not exactly,” Amos said. “Can you give us a few more minutes?”
Sadie smiled. “Of course. Be back in a few.”
Nadine watched her as she wound back through the tables checking on customers here and there. “She’s Mennonite.”
Amos nodded. “That’s right. I guess you haven’t heard all those stories yet. Before your time in Wells Landing.”
“Good stuff?” Nadine asked.
“Always. Now see, Sadie is Lorie Calhoun’s stepsister. Lorie’s father married Sadie’s mother way back. Before I even got here.”
“That long ago.” Nadine shook her head.
“Cheeky,” he said, but didn’t let her derail his story. “After Lorie met Zach Calhoun—I told you most of that story—then Sadie met a Mennonite man, Ezra Hein.”
“He’s the one with all the animals.”
Amos nodded.
“That’s where Titus got his first camels,” she said. “Jenna told me.”
“So Sadie married Ezra, and they decided to stay with his church.”
“And neither one of them is shunned?”
He made a face. “Shunning just ain’t what it used to be. But folks around here figure if they found a church home and are happy, then that’s what’s really important.”
“And Lorie?”
“Lorie hadn’t joined the church. I heard she had started baptism classes, then dropped out to be with Calhoun. Like I said, shunning ain’t what it used to be.”
She nodded. “I suppose you’re right. That can be good and bad, I guess.”
“I can’t imagine never talking to my family again.”
“Me either.” She put down her menu and studied him. “Do you think it’s a losing battle?”
“What?”
“Being Amish in today’s world. I mean, we went painting, we drive tractors, no one seems to be shunned anymore. Are we becoming extinct?”
“Whoa, that’s a pretty heavy topic for pie.”
But she was right. Depending on the district a person lived in and maybe what state, there were hundreds of different rules, but the fact of the matter was no phones had turned into phone shanties, which had turned into phones in the barns and for business purposes only. There was a lot of loose interpretation in that rule.
“I suppose you’re right.” She picked up her menu again. “What are you having?”
“Chocolate cream.”
“You didn’t even look at the menu.”
“Don’t have to. Esther might bake the best bread and make awesome cookies, but Maddie Kauffman makes the best chocolate cream pie.”
“Will you give me a bite of it?”
“You can order your own piece.”
“But I just want a bite.”
“And you want the whole slice of . . .”
“Pecan walnut chocolate chip.”
“That sounds like one of Cora Ann’s recipes.”
Nadine looked around. “Which one is she?”
“The girl who seated us.”
“I take it she loves to cook.”
He nodded. “I’m still trying to get her recipe for lemon cheesecake. But she’s not budging.”
“Speaking of recipes,” Nadine said. “Charlotte told me you could have her recipe for coconut cake, but you can’t give it to Esther. She said, and I quote, ‘Esther Fitch can find her own coconut cake recipe.’ End quote.”
Amos shook his head. Women. He’d never understand them. If it wasn’t three colors that were exactly the same, it was guarding their recipes as if national security depended on it. What was a man to do? “Done.”
* * *
Pecan walnut chocolate chip pie had to be at the top of her list of best pies in the world. The company wasn’t that ba
d either. And now he was coming over for puzzle night. The thought made her feel a little giddy.
Nadine quickly squashed that feeling, dousing it with a wave of “never gonna happen.”
And yet here she stood in front of the mirror, making sure her dress was stain-free, nothing was crooked or out of place, and her hair was neat and tidy.
A knock sounded on the door downstairs, but she knew Charlotte would get it. Her blues seemed to have eased today. Most probably due to the fact that her daughter was coming over. Nadine knew she missed Jenna, but she wondered if something more was going on.
One last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in place. Then she pinched her cheeks for some color and sighed at herself for being foolish. And fickle. She had told Amos that nothing was going on between the two of them save friendship, and then she tried to look her best for him.
She sniffed. Looking good was not a bad thing, she told herself, then made her way downstairs.
She was halfway there when Charlotte called. “Amos is here.”
Nadine ignored the quickening of her heartbeat and smiled as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Hi,” she said, thinking that she sounded a little breathless, like she had been hanging laundry in some sort of marathon.
“Amos brought us a present,” Charlotte said with a beaming smile. Nadine noticed that it didn’t reach far past her mouth, but at least she was trying.
“Jah?”
Amos turned a little pink around the ears and grinned a bit sheepishly. “It’s nothing.”
Charlotte shook her head. “It’s not nothing. Look here, Nadine. It’s a puzzle tabletop.”
Nadine was glad she told her what it was because, for the life of her, it appeared to be a large board with a lip around every side.
“It fits on top of our regular table, and when we’re done with the puzzle, we put the lid back on”—she demonstrated with only minor grunting—“then we cover it with the tablecloth and we can still eat at the table.”
She had to admit, that was clever. “That’s really ... clever.”
His smile grew a little deeper, and unlike Charlotte’s, it seemed to involve his whole body. “There’s also a lazy Susan underneath. But it has stoppers to keep it from turning.”
“Thank you, Amos.” She wanted to hug him. No, wait, she didn’t want to hug him. Just friends. That’s where they were, and she just wanted to thank him. But somehow just a mere danki didn’t seem to be enough. She wanted to do something special for him, but she would have to think about it. It needed to be really, really special, like the puzzle tabletop.
“He made it, you know,” Charlotte was saying.
He bakes, paints, and can work with wood. Definitely not your average Amish man.
Nadine pushed the thought away. She and Amos had rules to their relationship, and she had set them. So why was she having such a tough time following them?
Maybe she had made him a challenge. She shook her head at herself. Now was not the time for all that. Especially when a knock sounded at the front door seconds before it opened. Jenna stepped inside.
Charlotte immediately changed. She rushed over and walked her daughter inside, asking question after question.
“Where’s everyone else?” She looked behind Jenna as if they might be hiding there.
“Abbie thought it might be a good idea for me to come tonight by myself.” She gave a small shrug. “I didn’t argue. Much.”
“So they’re still coming?”
Jenna shook her head. “But they promised they would all come next week. Every one of them.”
“No matter.” Charlotte hugged her again. “I’m just glad you’re here.” She led Jenna toward the kitchen, talking about the dessert she had made and how Jenna would have to take some home to the rest of the Lambert-King household.
Nadine nodded toward the table. “You’re proud of yourself.”
“Only because I made something to help you. And your family.”
“It’s remarkable,” she admitted. “And you really made it yourself ?”
“Of course. My brother and I designed it for our puzzle nights. Mamm was always fussing about the puzzle being in the way, and we didn’t want to take it apart while we were trying to put it together.”
“Kind of defeats the purpose.”
“Right. So we made it, and that was that.”
“You had puzzle night a lot?”
He smiled. “I have a sister, Mary. She’s a lot like Jenna. Though I think something happened to Mary when she was born. Hard to say. Anyway, she loved to do puzzles.”
“Jenna loves to color.”
“Coloring books are a lot easier to finish and store than puzzles.”
“That’s definitely right.” But that explained how he was so natural with Jenna. She wanted to ask him where Mary was now, but she didn’t have time as Charlotte and Jenna came back into the room carrying a plate of goodies.
“Anyone for cake?”
“Always.” Amos rubbed his hands together, and the four of them got down to eating sweets and working on the puzzle. To Nadine, it felt just the way a family should.
* * *
“Are you seeing Amos today?” Charlotte asked the following morning over breakfast.
Nadine scooped some jam up and slathered it onto her biscuit. “No, why?”
“It’s just you’ve seen him every day this week.”
“I have not.” She took a bite of her biscuit and added a little more jam. “I didn’t see him Sunday or Tuesday. He was at work at the bakery then.”
“So Monday and Wednesday. That’s half the week.”
Well, when she put it like that, it certainly sounded like a lot.
“I’ll probably see him Sunday at church. Other than that, we don’t have any plans until next Monday.”
Charlotte picked the edge of fat off her fried ham. “So what’s going on between the two of you?”
“We’re friends,” Nadine said firmly. “Nothing more.”
“But he brought candy and flowers. He planted flowers in our yard.”
The thought warmed her heart and she couldn’t have that so she said, “I tried to get him to plant the vegetable garden, but he wasn’t having it. Something about being too old.” She had meant for the words to make Charlotte laugh, but she just continued to pick at her breakfast and wear a thoughtful frown.
“I suppose we do need to get the plants in the ground. It’ll be May soon.”
“Everyone’s planting earlier and earlier these days. Amos basically lives in a cornfield and the stuff is already shin-high.”
“Tomorrow will be early enough, I suppose.”
“We could get the ground ready tomorrow, then plant on Saturday.”
“You don’t have plans with Amos on Saturday either?”
“No. Just friends.” She said each syllable as plainly as possible as if that would clear up any confusion. “He asked me if he could take me home on Sunday after church, but I haven’t decided yet.”
“That sounds like more than friends.”
“It’s not.”
“Then you’re going to get married and leave me here all—” The last word was lost on a sob.
Nadine’s heart constricted at the words, while a part of her wanted to chuckle. The idea was ridiculous, her marrying Amos and moving out. Into his little single-wide with the messed-up weather skirting.
Last time you were out there, he had repaired it.
Not the point, she reminded herself.
“Is that what this is all about?” she asked Charlotte when she finally stopped arguing with herself.
“What do you mean?” She sniffed and tried to pull herself together.
“You’ve been moping around here all week. I thought it was because you missed Jenna.”
Tears started in Charlotte’s eyes once again. “I think I’m going through the change.”
“What?” Nadine frowned. “You’re only forty-two.”
“Forty
-three,” Charlotte corrected.
“That’s still young.” But not unheard of.
“It’s been two months since my last time, you know. And that means . . .” She coughed, unable to finish the sentence. She didn’t need to, Nadine understood.
They might have been living together for the past year, but there were some things they just didn’t talk about. And monthly woman trouble was one of them. But the conversation had already been started so she plunged ahead.
“It’s not like you’re in a . . . position ... to have another child.”
Charlotte bit back a sob. “Now I don’t have a choice.”
“Two months without ... that doesn’t mean much. It could be from the stress of Jenna getting hurt and moving back out.”
“That was last week,” Charlotte cried. “I only got to have one baby, and I failed her. Now I never get to prove that I can raise a child right.”
Nadine blinked as if that would help her put those words into perspective. “You didn’t fail Jenna. It was an accident.”
“I should have told her that she couldn’t go swimming that day. She was with older kids. I should have made her stay at home.”
“She had been swimming in that creek a hundred times before. It was just an accident. The kids she went with were her age, but you should be thankful that boy was there. He saved her life.”
“Jah,” Charlotte murmured, but she didn’t sound convinced.
Nadine reached across the table and clasped Charlotte’s hand. “It’s hard on everyone, the change. But it doesn’t mean the end. It’s just a new phase of life.” Even to her own ears, it sounded like a lot of hooey, but she had never seen Charlotte this upset. She didn’t really know how to handle it. Charlotte was the one who went around blustering about wrongs, arguing with her, and generally getting her way.
Which might be another problem with Jenna moving out. Charlotte definitely wasn’t getting her way on that one.
“I tell you what,” Nadine started. “Why don’t we get ready to go?” Actually Nadine was ready; it was Charlotte who was lolly gagging around in her robe and pajamas. “We can head over to the Lamberts’ for a visit. We can see the camels and the babies.” Well, they were more toddler than baby these days, but old habits.
