Covered Bridge Charm

by Christner, Dianne;

  A rustling sound alerted her to move her leg. Cocoa was futilely digging at Fannie’s wood floor, and Carly’s leg would be the rabbit’s next target.

  “Ach! Make that rabbit quit. It’s ruining my floor!”

  Carly moved onto her side and rubbed the rabbit’s fur. He treated her as his personal groomer and got angry when she didn’t comply. “Settle down, Cocoa.” Though her rabbit was usually silent, that didn’t mean he didn’t have anything to say, and as any good bunny owner would do, she’d memorized his body language. He soon mellowed into a chocolate-and-white puddle.

  Aside from her outburst, Fannie had been unusually quiet. Carly had hoped to tell her about her plan to help Martha or maybe even feel her out about Adam. But she wasn’t even talking about the quilt show she’d just attended. “I wish you’d tell me more about Quiltopia.”

  “I told you about the Quilted Cottage Tour.”

  “I know, but it feels like it didn’t meet your expectations this year.”

  “I just got my hopes up over nothing.”

  Carly gave Cocoa a final pat and sat upright. “Did you talk to someone about your pattern book?”

  Auntie pursed her thin lips, then opened up to Carly. “Two people. First I talked to a woman in a booth. A national quilt designer. She gave me tips on how to organize my work and got my blood a-rushing. She told me she’d introduce me to a man from a Mennonite publishing house on her break. So I brought in some samples from the car, but he wasn’t interested in taking on that kind of project.”

  Fannie swiped her hand across her eyes, and Carly’s heart broke. She hurried across the room and knelt in front of her aunt’s chair, placing her hand on her knee. “I’m so sorry. How devastating.”

  “Jah, well.” Fannie patted Carly’s shoulder as if she was the one needing support. “Now you know why I didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to go spilling my tears all over you. Now get up and get me a hanky off my dresser.”

  Carly quickly did as bid. When she returned, she reassured, “There are other publishers.”

  “I know. And the tips I got about organizing will help me for the next time. It’s just that I’m tired. I think I’ll go take a long nap.”

  “I wish I was as good at giving pep talks as you are.”

  Fannie chuckled. “You are, in your own way. I’ll rest, and then I’ll get up and give myself a pep talk.”

  “Good. And the next time I drop in, I hope to see that dining-room table covered again. And you can explain more about the new stuff the lady at Quiltopia taught you.”

  Fannie stood and straightened her skirt. “Jah, I’m just too tired today.” She sighed. “But not too tired to see something’s troubling you.”

  Carly saw that Auntie wasn’t going to let her go until she confided so she blurted out, “Do you think Adam is like all the other Lapps?”

  Auntie’s eyes widened. She dipped her head for so long that Carly thought she might be falling asleep. Then she lifted her gaze. “He doesn’t seem to be. If you’ve got your heart set on a Lapp boy, then there’s something I should tell you. Should’ve told you before. When Bob passed, Roman offered to marry me.”

  “What?”

  “Like you, I couldn’t help but be attracted. But it had only been a year since Bob and Bobby passed. It was too soon, and I was scared because he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Just like your Dale, he had everything planned out his way. So I went for his Achilles’ heel. I told him I wasn’t the meek type. And that I still loved Bob. Then he left me alone.”

  Carly bit her lip, imagining Roman’s reaction.

  Auntie shook her head and said in a weary voice, “It never would’ve worked. I’ve no regrets. I’ve had a good life. Especially since you and Jimmy came to me.”

  Carly’s heart expanded with love. “Thanks for sharing that.”

  “So given both our histories, tread careful.”

  “I will.” She kissed Auntie on the cheek. “Get some rest.” Then scooping up Cocoa, she headed outside. The sweet smell of jasmine filled the air, but sadness and disappointment filled Carly’s heart.

  Adam played a scenario through his mind: he went home and confronted Dad, told him he was pursuing Carly. He imagined the threats that would follow. Dad would withdraw the partnership offer and dare him to go to Indiana. He wasn’t ready to do that, couldn’t because he needed time to repair the damage he’d caused in his relationship with Carly. To fight for her. He could confront his uncle over the way he’d treated her. He should have done so as soon as he’d learned of Si’s devious tactic.

  So he found himself rapping on Simon’s door instead. His aunt answered.

  “Adam. What a nice surprise.”

  “Is Uncle Si handy?”

  “He’s in the living room. Come on.” Following her, he saw Simon napping in his favorite chair. His aunt tapped him on the shoulder. “Adam’s here.”

  “Hmm?” Simon stirred and then motioned for him to take a seat. Adam glanced at the television and hesitated.

  While Simon didn’t understand his reservations, his aunt took the remote and turned it off, honoring Adam’s religious views against it. “I have cake. Want some?”

  “Sure,” Simon said. When she’d left the room, he arched a brow. “You look serious. What’s my brother up to now?”

  Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Adam quickly replied, “Nothing new. But I heard what happened to Carly when she took her volunteer plan to the board.” He felt Simon studying him.

  “Surprisingly, she did a great job with it.”

  “Then why did you take it away from her?”

  “It’s not personal, if that’s what you think. Strictly business.”

  Adam shook his head. “It wasn’t fair, and you know it.”

  Simon’s hand swept through the air. “You don’t understand how things are done. Sherie was in line for a promotion. I’m sure she’ll find a way to include Carly and keep an eye on her at the same time.”

  Not liking Simon’s condescending tone, Adam argued, “Carly cares more about the residents than anyone else at Sweet Life. Doesn’t that account for anything?”

  Simon grinned. “Well this is a sweet turn of events. You standing up for Carly. I’m pleased to see you’ve changed your mind about her.”

  Bristling, Adam asked, “And what if I have?”

  “It’s a good thing. You’re levelheaded. I trust you like my own son.”

  Only Simon didn’t trust his own son or have a good relationship with him. Adam wondered if he even knew that Dale was expanding his business, given the bad blood between them.

  “I do appreciate her. With Sherie’s supervision and your guidance, we can channel Carly’s energy in a productive way. It’ll be best for everyone involved. Including Carly.”

  “She’s changing. Just give her a chance.”

  “I think you’re the one whose changing, Adam. What does your dad think about all this?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to allow either one of you to manipulate us.”

  His aunt entered the room, and from her expression, she’d caught his last statement. She set the dessert tray on the coffee table and glared at Simon. Then she smiled at her nephew. “It’s so nice of you to drop by Adam. We miss Dale.”

  Adam saw a painful look pass between husband and wife, then Si’s expression hardened.

  “I miss him, too,” Adam said, resolving not to let anyone drive him away. If he went to Nappanee, it would be his choice.

  Thursday afternoons, the residents of Sweet Life Assisted Living assembled for their weekly bingo game. Carly helped Shirley, the bingo caller who resembled an avocado with her gray-green hair, plumpish figure and pitted skin, to round up her troops. At the same time, Miranda brushed past. “I’ll take the floor if you take bingo.”

  “Sure.” It was a routine they’d fallen into weeks earlier. Less than half of the residents actually played bingo, but it was still more than Shirley, gregarious as she was, could h
andle without incurring some incident.

  Carly passed out cards and scooted in next to Martha, hoping to keep her mood elevated and ward off any heavy competition such as had occurred the previous week with the unsuspecting Dot. Shirley started the mechanical ball blower and called the first number.

  After B-12, Dot interrupted. “I’m worried about Birdie.” She stared at the glass double doors across the center’s lobby. “Where’s Crusher? Birdie needs his cage changed.”

  “He’ll be here like he always is,” Martha replied. “Can you repeat that last number Shirley? Dot’s blabbing in my ear.”

  Shirley smiled and repeated, “G-50.”

  “Got it!” Dot grinned and placed a yellow piece on one of her cards.

  “Should’ve kept my mouth shut,” Martha grumbled.

  Widow Martha knew she was being unreasonably surly, but she felt bitter. Ever since John had died, life had taken a bad turn. Nobody understood her or treated her with the respect she needed. Sticking her in a facility with half-demented people. It was an insult to her sharp mind. At first she’d been excited to learn that Dot was moving into the facility. But she’d quickly discovered her lifelong friend was but a shell of the woman she used to know. She remembered a day when the aged body sitting beside her housed a feisty woman who loved a good challenge.

  “I planted a row of eggplant.”

  “But I thought Crusher didn’t like it.”

  “He just doesn’t know he likes it. But come the end of summer, he’ll find out.”

  Martha shook her head. “John would have a conniption.”

  “That’s the fun of it,” Dot replied.

  For a moment, Martha wondered if she was too boring. But she had a good life with John. They shared their love of books and politics, even though getting involved with the latter was forbidden in the church. No, she decided that day. She’d never make him eat eggplant. While she admired Dot for her grit, she felt sorry for Crusher come the end of summer.

  She pulled her thoughts back to the present game. Martha was bored to her gills. Beside her, Dot acted as though bingo was the hottest thing since the Internet. The Internet. Martha’s fingers itched to explore the world of knowledge that the forbidden pleasure surely possessed. The Sweet Life library was dull as its meals. Just before he died, John had decided to install the Internet at their home. Said they’d put it inside a cabinet so nobody would find out. The library had a computer, but she’d been too depressed to explore it. With her asthma worsening, she figured she was too close to death to risk playing with the fires of hell.

  But she missed that part of her that took risks. James had ignited that fire in her. Challenging her to think outside the Mennonite box.

  “This old tree will keep its secrets,” he’d breathed into her ear. His eyes, so full of life, beckoned. “Dare you.”

  “Just be quick. They can see us from the road.”

  But he wasn’t quick, and she hadn’t wanted him to be. And they’d kissed many times after that. She was lucky she hadn’t lost her virginity, but she’d drawn the line there. He seemed to respect her for it. And she was glad for it when she later married John. It was bad enough that she carried the guilt of loving someone else. At first. But then John, wonderful old John, had become her life. And she was a foolish old woman now to be thinking of James again. If only Carly hadn’t stirred up those memories. It made her feel grumpier than ever.

  Carly relaxed when Shirley called about a dozen bingo numbers without any interruptions. But then Repeater, the resident who had a habit of losing his teeth and often repeated what other people said, started taking it upon himself to repeat every one of Shirley’s calls. Martha glared at him.

  “G-45,” Shirley said.

  “That’ll be G-45,” Guy echoed, placing a token on his card.

  Martha clamped her lips tight, and Carly whispered. “I love how you’re showing restraint.”

  Before Martha could reply, Klepto pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ve got a headache. I’m gonna go lie down.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Shirley said. “Take a candy bar for being a good sport.”

  Klepto’s eyes lit, and Carly helped her claim her prize and took her to her room and helped her to bed. She returned just as Repeater called, “Bingo!” with such exuberance he had to push his teeth back into place.

  She slid in beside Martha, who said, “We’d be better off if he lost those things again.”

  “You know that’s not true,” Carly chided, before helping everyone rearrange their chips and cards.

  Evidently Repeater thought his previous strategy was working and so continued to repeat every number. Martha leaned toward Dot. “I wish he’d stop.” When Dot glanced at Guy, Martha’s hand shot out and removed one of Dot’s chips.

  Carly’s mouth gaped.

  Before she could decide how to handle it, Inez the hall patroller suddenly whipped her wheelchair around the corner and decided to take a spin around the bingo table. Of course, the space was too tight for a wheelchair, and she banged into the chairs and caused a ruckus. Carly shot to her feet to assist as Shirley called a recess and whipped out a list of jokes that she read to ease the tension.

  Interrupting Shirley, Dot exclaimed, “Martha you cheat. You put that token back on my card right where it was on N-45.”

  Martha crossed her arms.

  “You told Inez to cause a ruckus so you could take my token.”

  “I did not.”

  “Some friend.”

  Carly was relieved to see Adam and Crusher enter the room. Crusher stood behind Dot and massaged her shoulders. Adam leaned his back against the receptionist’s desk and crossed his arms to observe the game.

  “Martha cheated,” Dot tattled. “And you’re late. Birdie needs her cage changed.”

  “This can be easily settled,” Shirley said. “Just put the token back, and I’ll verify for accuracy after the game. Now, let’s start again. Carly, can you give Guy a candy bar for his help. But I’ll repeat the numbers for the next game, all right Guy?”

  Carly placed a candy bar in Repeater’s shirt pocket with a wink and turned from his grinning face to join Adam. He nodded toward the empty staff room, and they left the door ajar.

  “Now Martha’s cheating?”

  “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

  “Bingo!” They heard Martha’s gleeful cry.

  His face creased with amusement. “Maybe that’ll help.”

  She shook her head. “I feel like I’m losing another friend. I hate to see the changes they go through as they age. Dot with her dementia.”

  He grew serious. “I’m sorry. I hate it, too. Though most of my residents are in pretty good shape or they couldn’t take woodworking.”

  “I’ll talk with her this afternoon. And unless she says something that makes me change my mind, I’m going to hunt up her old boyfriend.”

  He moved close and gave her a melting gaze. “How can I help?”

  Carly read the depth of desire in his hooded brown eyes. If she spent the extra time with him, they’d cross the line they’d recently set. But his truck would be convenient to canvas the neighborhood. “I’ll think about it. You’re a good friend, Adam.”

  Frowning, he teased, “Not a godsend?”

  “Friend,” she verified. “Consider it a step up.”

  He shrugged. “Can I pick you up on Saturday?”

  Before she could reply, a wheelchair banged into the door. Its driver exclaimed, “Kelly is at it again!”

  Carly bolted out of the room, but saw Miranda striding toward Klepto’s room.

  “I’d better go,” Adam replied. “Ten o’clock?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” Their gazes followed Dot, clinging to Crusher’s arm as they walked down the hall to her room. “He’s amazing,” Carly remarked.

  “He’s hurting, too.”

  Carly watched Miranda return and intercept them. “Hey, Adam. You like to hike?”


  Burning with jealousy, Carly moved behind the receptionist desk, turning her back to them. She fiddled with a file. Even though she strained, his masculine rumble was too low to comprehend. But Miranda’s flirtatious laugh wasn’t.

  “I’d like to see that.” There was another low rumble, and Miranda’s voice grew intimate. Closing the file, Carly left them to their flirtation. She had no right to be jealous.

  She found Martha sprawled across her bed, sobbing into her pillow. Moving to sit beside the tall woman, Carly patted her back. “I know you’re sorry about what you did.”

  The older woman sat up and covered her face with her hands, and Carly noticed her struggle to breathe. “Where’s your inhaler?”

  Martha motioned to a table beside her recliner. Carly retrieved it and waited while Martha administered the life-sustaining vapor. She rubbed the widow’s back. “You know Dot won’t remember it. You can ask God to forgive you and start brand new.”

  Setting her jaw, Martha wheezed, “I don’t think God’s answering my prayers. John was always the strong one.”

  Carly squeezed her hand. “Changes are hard. Would you like me to pray with you?”

  Martha nodded. “And a breathing treatment, please.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The second week of October, Adam was pricing trees for sale, discounting the crowded ones. Lapp’s Tree Farm raised both full and layered noble firs. Today they worked in the layered nobles, which were favorites with many people because they held heavy Christmas ornaments. Most of the competitive farms had small shops that also sold ornaments, but Lapp’s Tree Farm didn’t because Old Holley Fellowship didn’t believe in decorating Christmas trees.

  Given that fact, it was remarkable that a Mennonite family even sold trees. Originally, Adam’s grandpa bought the farm to grow vegetables, but it came with a small tree crop. In order to be a good steward of his resources, he got permission from the bishop to sell off the trees. But with the trees in various sizes, it took a decade to bring them all to maturity. During that time, the bishop passed away, and Lapp’s Tree Farm had become a popular place for young Mennonite men to find work.