by Beth Wiseman
The boats wobbled as everyone balanced themselves and the equipment in the middle. The cameramen clung to their minicams and other paraphernalia as if they were children who might fall overboard. Jayce wondered how deep the water was farther into the cave. Standing on solid ground and handing the last of the snorkels and masks and another air tank to Hal, he worried he might toss his breakfast. When he felt eyes on him, he looked to his left. Veronica’s expression was filled with sympathy, unlike his father’s. Her eyes said, You don’t have to do this.
Over the years Brandon Clarkson had made his feelings known, often calling Jayce a coward—or something far worse—in front of people. He longed to shut the old man up and show him that he had conquered his fear, but when he stepped one foot into the boat, his head started to spin.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Dad, to stay behind.” He hoisted himself back to the dock. He could feel his face turning red and wished that just this once his father wouldn’t make him look like a fool.
Dear old Dad’s eyes shone with satisfaction. “Yeah, I didn’t figure you’d actually get in the boat and go.”
Jayce trembled, wanting more than anything to get in that boat. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. As the cavern employees fired up the trolling motors, the boats eased away.
The last thing Jayce saw was his father’s smirk.
* * *
Esther stared at the pile of breakfast dishes in the sink, then thought about all the laundry that was building up. After their guests left this morning, she’d gone upstairs to tidy the rooms. She’d never seen so many towels used in such a short time. It looked like each person had used two or three. Of course, there wasn’t a towel limit per guest, but they were all on the floor—some in the bathrooms, others in the bedrooms—meaning she would need to replace them with fresh towels.
As the kitchen sink filled with warm water, she added soap, then heard Lizzie clomping down the stairs. When she turned around, she saw that Lizzie had beat her to the task. She was carrying an armful of towels.
“These city people are slobs,” Lizzie said as she dropped the towels near the basement entrance. She dramatically placed a hand on her forehead. “Don’t even go up there, Esther. It’s a mess. There are clothes all over the floor. And one of them eats a lot of chocolate bars. The wrappers are just thrown on the floor.” She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head.
“Ya, I know. I was up there earlier.” She turned off the water and faced her sister. “But we’ve had guests before who weren’t very tidy.”
“Ya, true. But all of these guests are messy. Didn’t their mudders teach them the basics? Hang your towel on the rack. Don’t throw trash on the floor of your bedroom. And someone must have gotten up in the middle of the night because they left a half-eaten piece of apple pie on a plate on the bed.” Lizzie wrinkled her nose and shook her head again.
“We’re too old to do all of this ourselves.” Esther turned back to the sink and started scrubbing the dishes.
“I’ve been asking around trying to find someone.” Lizzie sat at the kitchen table. “But no takers.”
“We’ll find someone.” When Esther finished nearly twenty minutes later, she dried her hands and joined Lizzie at the table. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Lizzie sighed. “I’ve been on mei best behavior. What have I done?”
Esther grinned. “You haven’t done anything. I just don’t think we should encourage anything between Evelyn and Jayce. The girl is probably infatuated with him because he’s so handsome and charming. But he isn’t only an Englisch fellow. He’s an Englisch fellow who lives a life far different from even the average non-Amish person. He rides in limousines, probably lives in a fancy house in Los Angeles, and grew up in a way we can’t even imagine.”
She held up a finger when Lizzie opened her mouth to say something. “Just let me finish. I know there have been instances, although rare, when someone converts to our way of life. But that would never happen in this situation. It’s only one date, hopefully the last one. I don’t want to see someone so worldly break Evelyn’s heart.”
Lizzie sat taller and raised her chin. “These things are in Gott’s hands, not ours.”
“And how many times have we taken things into our own hands by playing matchmaker? I’m just saying that we can only cause harm if we encourage a romantic relationship between Jayce and Evelyn.” Esther paused and shook her head. “This is silly. That boy hasn’t even been here twenty-four hours.” She propped her elbows on the table and folded her hands together. “I guess that’s mei point. In less than a day, he already has a date.”
Lizzie eased back into her chair. “Ach, what I wouldn’t give to be fifty years younger. I loved mei Reuben, but I reckon young Jayce would have turned mei head, too, at that age.”
Esther got up and walked to the window. “Some of them must have stayed behind since the generators are still running. They couldn’t all have fit in the two cars they took.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “Which brings me to another point. Why hasn’t Gus been over here complaining?”
Lizzie shuffled over to the window. “Because that young man put old Gus in his place.”
“I don’t think Gus scares that easily, especially not by someone like Jayce. He was red in the face he was so mad yesterday. Then, nothing. Seems odd to me.” Esther glanced at Lizzie. “Have you even seen him outside the cottage? I hope he isn’t ill and nothing has happened to him.”
Lizzie hung her head, shaking it, before she looked up at Esther. “You’re a gut woman, Esther, to care about that man when he’s given us nothing but grief. I’ll be haunted until the day I die about why Mamm made us promise he could live here for the rest of his life.”
“I’m sure she had her reasons.” Esther was as confused as Lizzie about her mother’s dying wish.
“But what were they?”
Esther twisted her mouth back and forth as she thought about it for the umpteenth time. “You know I have no idea. We may never know.” Recalling the time he’d helped her, she said, “Gus does have some gut qualities. He was helpful when I had mei medical issues. There is compassion deep within his soul. He just doesn’t show it much.”
“I’ll say it again.” Lizzie groaned. “You’re a gut woman, Esther. Every time I see that man, I want to give him a swift kick in the shin.”
Lizzie actually had kicked Gus in the shin a few times over the years. “Well, let’s just all try to get along.” Esther stared at the cottage from the kitchen window as Lizzie retreated to take the towels down to the basement.
When Gus Owens got fired up about something, he was relentless until he got his way. They’d hired someone a few years ago to mow the grass around the main house, the cottage, and the daadi haus. The fellow they employed could only be there early in the mornings, and Gus had thrown a tantrum, saying he couldn’t sleep in with all the noise. The man only came once a week, but Esther eventually had to let him go and hire someone else who could tend to the yard in the afternoons. They’d made plenty of concessions over the years to tame his temper.
Esther tried to be kind. She often took Gus leftovers and slices of pie. He was often ungrateful, complained about the choice of pie, and never invited Esther inside, which was a blessing. She’d been in the cottage before, and it was an unpleasant experience. Gus had been there for her when it counted, though. He’d shown a tiny smidgen of himself that most folks never saw—little kindnesses that were bottled up and rarely revealed. Maybe later she’d go check on him.
She plodded back to the kitchen, wiped down the counters, and returned her thoughts to Evelyn and Jayce. Lizzie was right. That boy was a looker. He had a kind face and eyes that seemed to hold a secret.
He was everything a young woman might be attracted to. But that woman needed to be English. Esther prayed tonight would be a onetime thing.
* * *
Evelyn paced her bedroom Friday afternoon. She needed to tell her parents she had a date this evening. It wo
uld be better for them to know in advance that her date was an English man. A nervous excitement swirled in the pit of her stomach, but she broke out in a cold sweat every time she thought about Jayce pulling up to her house in a fancy car. If her parents saw that and hadn’t been warned, it could go very badly.
She sat on her bed and wrapped her arms across her stomach. She’d never been out with an English man. Maybe he didn’t consider this a date. Perhaps he just wanted to go to the movies and needed someone to go with. What if his intentions were dishonorable? Would he try to hold her hand or slide his arm over her shoulder? She’d heard stories from her friends about movie dates. If Amish men showed such public affection, would an English man? The thought of Jayce touching her in any way caused her stomach to tense even more. She wasn’t sure she wanted to push away any advances he might make. It wasn’t just his athletic build that drew her to him. His alluring brown eyes shone with intensity, like he had a lot on his mind and was just waiting to share his thoughts with someone. She wanted to know him better.
After another fifteen minutes of pondering the situation, she heard her mother shuffling around downstairs in the kitchen. It would be easiest to break the news to her.
Evelyn went downstairs and moseyed her way into the kitchen. “Mudder—why are you sitting on the floor? What are you doing?” She had pulled pots and pans from the bottom cabinet and stacked them all around her.
“I can’t find mei double boiler. I’ve stored it in this cabinet for decades.” Her mother looked like she might cry, which was odd, but not completely out of character. Evelyn had read about menopause, and her mother seemed to be in the throes of it lately.
Evelyn wasn’t sure if she should say where the double boiler was. Her mother continued pulling pots from the cabinet, and Evelyn cleared her throat.
“Daed has your double boiler in the barn.” Her mother stopped moving and glared up at Evelyn.
“Why does your father have mei double boiler in the barn?” The words were clipped. She pressed her lips together and lifted herself off the floor. She brushed the dust from her black apron and blew a strand of loose hair out of her face before tucking it beneath her prayer covering.
“He’s melting wax with a propane camp stove.” Evelyn flinched, knowing her mother was about to blow up. Mae Schrock only allowed Evelyn to touch her kitchen pots and utensils, and even that had been hard for her. Her mother loved to cook, and the kitchen and everything in it were her territory. Evelyn didn’t think there was a pot or gadget her mother didn’t own, unless it wasn’t available in a battery-operated or propane version.
Her mother’s face was red, fists balled at her sides. “Why is your father melting wax?”
Evelyn cleared her throat again and shrugged. “He said he was going to make candles.”
Her mother threw her hands in the air. “Ach! What in the world for?”
Evelyn shifted her weight as she crinkled her nose. “I think to sell.”
“To sell?” She groaned, throwing her head back. “What is wrong with that man? Last month he tried to make wine. We don’t even drink wine!” Her mother took a deep breath. “And the month before that, he was whittling and carving little animals out of wood.”
When she covered her face with her hands and started to cry, Evelyn walked over to her mother and wrapped her arms around her.
“He’s ruining mei double boiler,” she said through her tears. Evelyn thought she’d gotten used to these random meltdowns. The books she’d read said this phase should pass. But when?
Now was not the best time to tell her that an English man was coming to pick her up this evening, but the window of opportunity would be closing soon. Her brothers would return from work, their father would come into the house, or her mother would take off to the barn to reclaim her double boiler.
Her mother eased out of the embrace and took a deep breath.
And just like that she was back to herself.
“Mamm, I need to tell you something.” Evelyn chewed her bottom lip. “Please be open-minded.”
Her mother locked eyes with her. “Evelyn, I’m not having the best day.” She raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t make it any worse.”
“I just wanted to let you know that I have a date tonight.” She paused, twirling the string on her prayer covering. “And it’s with an Englisch man, someone staying at Esther and Lizzie’s inn.” She held her breath and waited for her mother to explode and explain all the reasons this was a bad idea—reasons Evelyn already knew.
“What time is he coming?” She folded her arms across her chest, an action that seemed defiant, but her voice was level and calm.
“Six o’clock. And . . . I’m worried what Daed will think.” She hugged herself and waited.
“You should be.” She opened the door that led to the front porch, then looked over her shoulder at Evelyn. “I will try to handle your father, but no promises. You do know that dating an Englisch man is a bad idea, ya?”
“Ya, I do. But I don’t think it’s really a date.” She was pretty sure it was, but putting some doubt in her mother’s mind might not be a bad idea, until she knew where things were going—if anywhere. Evelyn wasn’t even sure why she agreed to go. Not true. She’d agreed because Jayce was irresistibly handsome. She could still feel the way her insides swirled when he told her she was beautiful while staring at her with those enchanting eyes.
“I’ll let your daed know.” She growled. “Right after I get mei double boiler back!” And with that, she stormed off to the barn.
Evelyn stood speechless. Her news had been trumped by her mother’s need to reclaim her double boiler. Perhaps this wouldn’t go as badly as she’d feared. Her father would be in the doghouse by this evening.
* * *
Esther sipped tea in her rocking chair on the front porch, watching Lizzie teach Jayce how to drive the horse and buggy. Poppy was a gentle animal, but Esther worried if this quick lesson would be enough for Jayce to get himself and Evelyn to their destination and back home safely. Normally they would take the topless spring buggy this time of year, but Lizzie had insisted Jayce take her enclosed buggy, even though she wouldn’t give a reason and there wasn’t any rain in the forecast. Esther had argued that the young people were going to be hot, but Lizzie ignored her and did what she wanted. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth the energy to argue with her.
Mr. Clarkson and the others had returned about an hour ago. Esther and Lizzie prepared extra supper, but only the six guests staying in the house came for the meal. Jayce ate, too, even though he was taking Evelyn out shortly. Esther offered a few suggestions about places to eat, but Jayce said he’d let Evelyn choose. He was a nice young man.
The sound of a door closing caused Esther to look up. Oh dear. Gus was moving across the yard with giant strides, and seconds later Brandon Clarkson came out of one of the motor homes. Esther stood, her heart thumping. Gus was rushing directly toward Mr. Clarkson, and the encounter could not be good.
Lizzie didn’t seem to notice as she continued to instruct Jayce. Esther stepped down the porch steps one foot at a time, prepared to intervene.
Gus lifted a hand in the air before he reached Mr. Clarkson. “Hello, Brandon!” he bellowed.
“Good to see you, Gus.” When the producer reached Gus, he extended his hand.
Esther tipped her head to the side, bemused.
“How’d the shoot go today?” Gus was holding a container Esther had taken him leftovers in a few days ago. She usually had to go collect the items herself. Unable to recall a single time he’d returned a dish, she took a few more steps into the yard. She wasn’t going to miss any part of the scene unfolding before her.
“It went very well.” Mr. Clarkson stood in front of Gus, both men smiling. “We’ve done a lot of traveling, and today we wore everyone out. We’re going to take the weekend off, but I’ll see you Monday?”
“Yes, sir. Looking forward to it.” Gus tucked the container under his arm, then looped his thum
bs beneath his suspenders. He could almost pass as an Amish man with his black slacks, blue shirt, and suspenders. But the long gray ponytail cleared up any confusion.
Mr. Clarkson went back inside the motor home, and Gus stomped across the yard toward Esther, pausing to frown at Lizzie, who promptly told him to shut up before he even said anything.
“Do you see how that sister of yours treats me?” Gus handed Esther the empty container. “I didn’t say a word to her, and she treats me with such disrespect.”
Esther glowered. “Gus, it goes both ways with you and Lizzie. Danki for returning mei container.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He propped his arms across his belly, which appeared to be growing. Esther couldn’t say anything about that. At least her dress covered her own rounded middle.
“What is that crazy woman doing, anyway?” Gus asked with his signature scowl etched across his face.
“She’s trying to teach that young man—Jayce—how to drive the buggy.”
“Why?” He turned to Esther, his jowls hanging low as his frown deepened. “I don’t like that kid.”
Esther grinned. “I think the feeling is probably mutual. Lizzie is teaching him about the buggy because he is taking Evelyn Schrock to supper.”
Gus shook his head. “I don’t see that going well. But I reckon I’ll have to do my best to get along with the twerp since he’s Brandon’s son.”
“Um . . .” Esther scratched her cheek. Gus didn’t get along with anyone. “What does Jayce being Brandon’s sohn have to do with anything?”
Gus chuckled, and Esther wondered if she was dreaming. Gus was not the kind of man who found humor in many things. “Well, I guess you haven’t heard.” He coughed, then rubbed his hands together before resting them back on his belly. “As I explained to you yesterday, I found those generators to be bothersome.”
Esther waited, not used to this formal tone Gus was using.
“As for Brandon . . .” He paused to clear his throat, then smiled. “Yeah, we’re on a first-name basis. Anyway, when I was telling him my concerns about the generators, he gasped. I was midsentence when he told me I had a certain look he needed for a background person in his movie.” Gus stood proud, chest puffed out, causing the buttons on his shirt to look like they might pop any minute. “Anyway, I gotta go. As an actor, I need my beauty sleep.”
