by Amy Lillard
“And you think I should ask him to go.”
“I do.”
Nadine looked back to the flyer. “I would have to get us a ride to Tulsa.”
Charlotte grinned. “That’s already taken care of.”
“What?”
“Mabel—Fred’s wife, not Ebersol—is going on Thursday and she said y’all were more than welcome to ride with them.”
“But—”
“If you want to leave earlier than they do, she said they would get you an Uber. Not sure what it means other than a ride home.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” Nadine murmured.
“Almost.” Charlotte gave her an encouraging smile. “You have to convince Amos to go.”
* * *
This was ridiculous, she thought and ran her hands down the front of her dress. She had worn the new blue one that Charlotte had just made for her. It was clean and—who was she trying to fool? She wanted to look her best. The color was great on her, and it was new. It was by far the best dress in her closet right then. What else would she wear?
Now she wasn’t feeling so confident. She was standing on Amos’s new porch, but he was nowhere in sight. His tractor was in the lean-to shed at the end of the trailer and his buggy next to it. But she figured when she pulled up and he hadn’t come out to see who was coming up his drive that he had to be gone. To work or out visiting.
Maybe even eating pie with Mabel Ebersol.
On someone else’s tractor.
She pushed that thought away. She was leaving this in God’s hands. Which is what she should have done from the beginning.
She knocked again and peeked through the little window in the door. It was the kind that had a screen on the outside with a louvre window that was operated by a crank. She could see inside, but nothing stirred. He was gone.
Nadine turned and looked out over the cornfields that surrounded Amos’s trailer. The corn was really starting to take off. If it kept growing like this, it would definitely be “knee-high by the Fourth of July.”
She wondered if Amos was going to be at Austin Tiger’s ranch for his Fourth of July celebration. That’s where he said he had been last year. Not that the Fourth was a huge holiday for their district. It was still fun to have an excuse to barbecue and shoot off fireworks. Everyone loved fireworks.
“Are you going to stand there on the porch gawking all day or are you going to move so I can let us in?”
Nadine whirled around to find Amos behind her. He had just come up and she had been so deep in her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed until he spoke.
A horn sounded from the car pulling away.
Amos turned and waved.
“Who’s that?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Dan. Someone I used to work with.”
“Oh.” Suddenly Nadine had run out of things to say.
“Let me get this boy some water,” Amos said.
And that’s when she noticed a beagle standing next to him. He had a new-looking collar and leash made from bright blue nylon. An orange rabies tag dangled from the collar.
“You have a dog.”
“Just got him.” He opened the door, unclipped the leash from the collar, and clicked his tongue against his teeth. The dog ran inside like he knew he was home.
“Why did you get a dog?”
Amos shrugged one shoulder and followed the pooch into the house. “I don’t know. Just thought it was time.”
“Oh.” She followed him inside.
He sat the sacks he carried—another thing she hadn’t noticed—on the table and started emptying them while Nadine shut the front door. Dog food, treats, chew toys, bowls, and a host of other things.
The beagle sniffed around, smelling over everything that came across his path—the table, the cabinet doors, the couch, the bookcase.
“Where’d you get him?”
“The shelter. They have all sorts of dogs for adoption.” He chuckled. “After seeing what all Goldie did to your yard and barn and—”
She held up a hand to keep him from continuing.
“I decided that I might better get an adult dog and not a puppy.” He opened the bag of dog food and poured some into one of the bowls. “Come here, Ace.”
He set the bowl of food down against the far wall and moved to fill the second bowl with water from the tap.
“I still don’t know why you got a dog in the first place.”
Amos gave her a one-armed shrug. “Companionship. Affection, maybe even protection.”
All the reasons that Charlotte had stated, but Nadine knew that Charlotte was compensating over the loss of her daughter, the second loss anyway. What was Amos compensating for?
“But you didn’t come over here to talk about the dog.”
No, because she hadn’t even known about the dog until now. “Charlotte found this flyer.” Nadine stopped. That sounded like something the old her would have said. This was the new her, more open to possibilities, beginning a new phase in her life. “I saw it and thought you might like to go to the event.”
“Jah?” He moved to the living room and motioned for her to follow. They settled down on the couch side by side. “What is this event?”
“It starts next Friday. It’s called Mayfest. Have you ever heard of it?”
“In Tulsa? Jah. Some of the fellows from work go each year.”
“It sounds very interesting with all the art and pottery, and I thought you might like it. Would you like to go with me on Friday?”
He pulled back, as if to study her from afar. “Nadine Burkhart, are you asking me on a date?”
The word made her heart pound in her chest, but she plowed on ahead. “Jah,” she said. “I guess I am.”
* * *
“I’m not sure what to do first.” Nadine felt like a child. She wanted to spin in a circle and look at everything at once.
“Let’s grab something to eat.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “All this beautiful stuff to look at, and you’re hungry?”
“I can look at everything so much better if my stomach isn’t growling.”
Nadine shook her head and allowed him to lead her to the food.
She bought a lemonade and a soft pretzel, then watched as Amos slathered mustard and slaw on his chili dog.
“I don’t know how you eat those things.”
“Chili dogs? They’re the best.” He took a big bite and dribbled a blob of chili-mustard combo onto his beard.
“They’re messy.” She handed him a napkin. “Plus, if I ate that, I wouldn’t sleep for a week.”
“A chili dog? Why?”
“Indigestion.”
He shrugged and finished off the dog in one last bite. “But they’re so good.”
She handed him another napkin. “There’s more mustard in your beard.”
He wiped it away and off they went.
They walked down the midway to the soothing sounds of a South American band. The music was filled with flutes and drums and made her want to close her eyes and just listen. They didn’t play music in their district and probably never would. The painting classes were enough for now, but Nadine wished she could have this playing in her house all the time. It was soothing, though it had a beat and she found herself walking in time with the music.
They passed booths selling handmade sterling silver earrings. Jewelry was another thing against the Ordnung, but she and Amos were fascinated by the craftsmanship of the items. They backtracked so Amos could talk to the designer. He told Amos that the pieces were made using a process called lost-wax casting. He explained it all, but Nadine got lost early on and just looked at the pretty baubles instead. The silver had been mixed with all sorts of stones and crystal, from turquoise to one that looked like a cloudy diamond. They were all spectacular.
The designer gave Amos his card and invited him out to his workshop to see the process in person. Amos pocketed the card and thanked the man for his time.
&n
bsp; “You’re not really going out to his shop, are you?” Nadine asked as they moved to the next booth. A man was working with tooled leather. There were ladies’ handbags, men’s wallets, and those western belts with the person’s name on the back. He told them he could make them one while they waited. Nadine supposed he was merely being kind. But he could have been poking fun. Whatever his intent, he moved over to an Englisch customer as Nadine and Amos started for the next booth.
“Why not? It was very interesting to see and hear about. I would like to know how to do it.”
“In case Cephas lets the men start wearing long earrings?”
He shot her a look. “If he does that, I will not be wearing them, just to be clear.”
“So why do you want to know how to wax lost cast?”
“Lost-wax cast,” he corrected. “It might come in handy to make metal pieces for things. You know, repairs and such.”
Nadine hadn’t thought of that.
“Look! Another chili dog stand.” He smiled as if he’d just won the ultimate prize.
“You cannot still be hungry.”
“I am.”
He wasn’t a big man, about the size of Charlotte. So where was he putting all that food?
She stood back and waited as he bought himself another chili dog and shoveled it down, much like he had the previous one.
He wiped his mouth and beard again and smiled.
“If you keep gobbling your food down, then everyone will think no one feeds you.”
He patted his flat belly. “Maybe they’ll feel sorry for me and buy me another one.”
She shook her head. “You are something else, Amos Fisher.”
He just grinned. “Ready for the next booth?”
“I am if you are.”
“Let’s go.”
They went through the booths looking at custom-made wooden signs, pottery of every kind, and patterned cutting boards made from bamboo.
“I wonder what Abe Fitch would make of these,” Amos said, running a hand over one of the distinctive patterns.
“You know Abe and wood,” she replied.
He laughed. “Maybe I should take him one back.”
“If you do, it’ll end up in the bakery and you know it.”
“Jah. You’re probably right.” He staggered a bit.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said. “Fine.”
“You look a little pale.”
He waved away her concern. “Just need some water.”
She frowned but let him have his way. “There’s a stand up ahead.”
At the next place, they found water and soft drinks. Amos bought them each a bottle of water; then they started off again. At one end of the festival, they could hear a band warming up. Soon, the live stage music would start.
To Nadine, it was kind of sad. The bands might be good on the Englisch standard, but she would rather hear the South American band with the flutes and the drums.
“Better head back this way.” Amos steered her toward the main row of booths. “There’s another chili dog stand.”
“Amos, really! You can’t be hungry. I refuse to believe it.”
“Maybe not hungry. But not full and I rarely get chili dogs since I quit working.”
“It’s a good thing,” she said. “If you ate them like this every day, you’d be as big as a house.”
He grinned at her again. “I have a great metabolism.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever that means.”
“It means I can eat whatever I want and I don’t get fat.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” she grumbled, but he didn’t answer. He was too busy ordering his third chili dog of the day.
After that, they wandered through the rest of the booths, then looped back to a couple of their favorites.
“Why did you ask me to come here tonight?”
They had been staying on safe topics all afternoon, and she supposed it was just a matter of time before something like this came up.
“The truth?” she asked.
“That would be best.” He nodded solemnly, but it was hard to tell just how serious he was since in the next beat he shoved a huge bite of pink cotton candy into his mouth.
“I missed you.” She turned to look at him, but he was no longer there.
She turned back. He had stopped in the middle of the walkway. She went back to him.
“You missed me?”
She nodded. “Jah. I didn’t want to, but I guess I kind of got used to having you around.” As far as confessions went, it was the easiest way, she figured, to say what needed to be said.
“That’s it?” he asked. A pained look stole across his face.
“That’s not enough?”
“No.” He rubbed one hand against his chest right about where his heart would be. “You have done this to me from the start, Nadine.”
“Done what?”
“Refused to commit.” He shook his head. “Not even a little bit.”
“Commit to what? I wasn’t committed to our friendship?”
They remained in the middle of the midway, arguing and talking and just letting the people wander around them. They received a few curious glances, but they ignored them. That was one benefit of being stared at constantly; looks were easy to dismiss.
“Even as friends, you kept me at an arm’s length and you know why?”
She propped her hands on her hips. “I suppose you’re going to tell me.”
“Because you don’t want to take responsibility for your own happiness. That way, you can blame everybody else when it falls apart.”
“That’s what you think?” Her words were barely a whisper.
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” He winced, then bent in half at the waist.
What was he playing at now?
He braced his hands on his legs and pushed himself upright.
He was alarmingly pale.
“Amos?”
“Nadine . . .” he whispered. “Something’s wrong.” The words had no sooner left his mouth than he keeled over right in front of her, face down on the city street.
“Amos?” she said, her voice normal volume, but trembling. “Amos?” This time louder and stronger. “Help! Help! Somebody help us please!”
Chapter Nineteen
The beeping sound. That’s what he noticed first. He was surrounded by white, and there was a steady beeping. It was really beginning to bug him, but his mouth was dry and he couldn’t seem to form words.
But he tried. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know how long he had been there, but through all the fog and confusion, there was one thing that he did know: He had a dog and there was no one to take care of Ace if Amos was in the hospital.
“My dog,” he said. His lips stuck to his teeth, and his voice was a whisper of a whisper.
“What?” someone asked. A woman. Not Nadine, but a woman he knew. He thought he knew.
“Is he awake?” a second woman asked. She wasn’t Nadine either, but she sounded familiar as well.
“He’s trying to say something,” First Woman Not Nadine said. “What, Amos? What was that?”
He licked at his lips, but it was like trying to wet the desert with a piece of sandpaper. “My dog,” he repeated.
“I think he said, my dog,” Second Woman Not Nadine said.
“It’s okay,” First Woman said. She patted him on the arm in a gentle, reassuring way. “Nadine went to take care of him.”
“Nadine,” he said. His dog was taken care of, but why wasn’t she there with him?
“That’s right,” Second Woman said.
He had been with Nadine, walking at a street fair, talking and eating cotton candy, and then, boom. He was here. Something had happened, but what?
He remembered pain, a searing pain in his chest, the world graying on the edges, darkening and darkening until everything went black. Now everything was white. At least he thought it was. He wasn’t sure he had actually been ab
le to pry his eyes open, but it was white, somehow he knew it.
“Nadine,” he said again, but no one answered.
* * *
The beeping continued. It went on and on and on and on, until he wanted to do something to stop it. He was used to noises that didn’t repeat over and over in the same pattern, the bark of his dog, the chirp of the crickets. Sometimes on his little piece of land it was so quiet he would promise he could hear the corn grow. Corn. Corn in the fields. Asphalt. Cotton candy. Chili dogs. Ace.
“My dog.” He roused himself out of his slumber, looking around to see where he was. What was causing the all-fired beeping, and where he was.
“There you are.” Helen Ebersol, the bishop’s wife, stood. She had been sitting in a chair by the window reading a book. The Bible.
He looked from her to the room. White. Jah, he had called that one. The room was white, the sheets white, the gown he wore white.
Even the machines that beeped to one side of him were white.
His first thought was heaven. He had died and somehow found his way to heaven. Hallelujah and amen. But there wouldn’t be that annoying beeping sound in heaven. Heaven didn’t contain annoying things.
And what would Helen Ebersol be doing in heaven?
“We were worried about you.”
He turned toward the sound of the other voice.
What would Helen Ebersol be doing in heaven with Mabel Ebersol?
“My dog,” he repeated. They could worry about him all they wanted, but the fact remained that his dog had been alone for some time—he had no idea exactly how long—with no one to take care of him.
“Nadine said she would stop by and make sure he was fed.”
Amos heaved a sigh of relief. “Where’s Nadine?”
Mabel and Helen shared a look over his bed. He had no idea what it meant.
“Nadine has gone home.”
He blinked a couple of times and tried to get everything into focus.
This was what he knew so far: He was not in heaven, which meant he was probably in the hospital. Mabel and Helen had been worried about him. Nadine had gone to take care of his dog, which meant she wasn’t there. But he had no idea how he’d gotten there.
“What happened?” He remembered standing in the middle of the festival arguing with Nadine. Why were they always arguing? Why couldn’t she just see things his way? Then he’d woken up here to the sound of all this beeping.
