“What happened to his father?” Serena asked.
“He’s been gone since Harlan was eleven. He moved away.” Essie hoped it was answer enough for Serena, who didn’t have to know all the details, the sad history that had hurt Harlan and shamed his family.
“Yeah,” Serena said. “Divorce is always hard on the kids. I have some friends who went through that.”
“But divorce isn’t allowed by our bishop,” Sadie said. “Amish folk don’t get divorced. It’s not permitted.”
“Really?” Serena tilted her head. “So what happens?”
“Nothing,” Essie said. “Folks go on living.”
“Has Harlan ever tried to find his father?” Serena asked. “You know, just out of curiosity.”
In fact, Harlan had written letters to some Amish settlements in search of Jed Yoder, but it was not something Essie could share. “It’s a matter of shame. Not to be talked about.” Eager to change the subject, Essie asked Laura about the blackberry brambles near her farm on Foster Road. “Do you think we could pick enough blackberries to put up some jam?”
Essie was so upset by the talk of divorce and Harlan’s parents that Laura’s answer might as well have been soap bubbles popping silently in the air. Why did Serena have to question everything, probing at secret things and private pain, picking away at wounds? Even five-year-old Sarah Rose was more adept at sensing people’s feelings.
Essie tamped her annoyance down, as there was still much work to do. She started her sisters mashing the second batch of strawberries, then directed the older girls into the kitchen, where it was time to pour the jam into jars.
“It’s cooled a bit, but mind that you don’t burn yourself,” Essie said.
“I’ll get the funnels,” Sadie offered. Essie’s childhood friend Sadie knew the Lapp kitchen as well as her own.
“It smells won-der-ful in here,” Serena said, drawing out the word.
“Wunderbar,” Laura added.
Serena closed her eyes and let her head roll back. “I want to take a bath in a vat of strawberry jam.”
The laughter that followed tugged at Essie’s irritation, but she chuckled along.
Serena meant well.
Essie shouldn’t let it get to her.
Chapter Six
As the strawberry jam party wrapped up, Serena walked off with her cell phone in hand, hoping to get a signal.
“Serena!” Grace called after her, running to catch up. “Where are you going?”
“Toward the closest cell phone tower, I hope. I’m beginning to get antsy without being able to talk to my friends. This is ridiculous. I’m going to see if we can get a ride into town tomorrow. They said we can charge our batteries at the library, and there’s got to be cell service there.”
“Probably.” Grace’s voice seemed glum.
“What’s the matter?”
“I want to go home.” Her voice trembled on the last word.
Serena slung an arm around her sister’s slender shoulders and swayed back and forth with her as they walked. “Home? No way. We just got here.”
“I know.” Grace sounded forlorn. “Everyone is really nice, and the farm is green and beautiful, and the food is delicious. But it’s not home. I keep thinking about Dad all alone.”
Serena had had the same thought, but she dismissed it. “Don’t you worry about him. He’s probably working tonight, anyway. And if not, it would be his first night to himself in years. He’ll probably go to a baseball game or out with one of his cop buddies.”
“I bet he misses us. Being alone will give him a chance to think about Mom and miss her more.”
“That’s true,” Serena said. Sometimes Grace had flashes of wisdom like an old Yoda. “We all miss Mom. I don’t think that will ever go away. It just hurts a little bit less as time goes on. Right?” She gave Grace’s shoulders a squeeze.
“If you say so.”
At that moment Serena realized there were more important things than finding cell service. “Come on, Gracie. Let’s find something fun to do here. We haven’t milked the cows yet, and tomorrow we can go into town and get ice cream and fudge. And then there’s swimming in the river. Trust me, this is going to be great.”
“If you say so,” Grace repeated, with a note of doubt that Serena dismissed. Was this going to be a time to remember? Yes, yes, yes! It would go down in family history as the summer of sisterhood. Serena was going to make that happen. Yes! Step aside, pessimists. Hope was about to spring forth in Joyful River.
* * *
“We’re here to help with the milking,” Serena said as she and Grace strode into the outbuilding next to the barn that Aunt Miriam had told them was the milking parlor.
“Milking starts at five a.m. and p.m., twice a day, seven days a week,” Aunt Miriam had told them earlier. “Once a cow is producing, she can’t be kept waiting.”
Serena and Grace had tried to find Megan to come along, but Aunt Miriam had explained that she was off walking, which seemed to be her way of blowing off steam. “A good, long walk in the fresh air can clear the mind,” Aunt Miriam had said with that sureness that Serena admired.
The milking parlor was a hub of activity, with Uncle Alvin and Sam working the milking machines, while Annie, Paul, and Peter guided a line of cows in from the paddock. With the cows bustling in through the opening, no one seemed to hear Serena’s sunny announcement.
“Hello?” she said as a black-and-white beast came charging her way. She had to jump to the left to dodge him. Annie and Peter giggled at the girls’ wariness as they somehow managed to get the giant cows into place.
“They know where to go,” Peter said, “but you need to stay out of their way.”
Grace stood off to the side, shaking her head. “I don’t think anyone needs our help in here.”
“Stick around if you want to pitch in,” Sam called over the groan of a cow. “You can help wash the equipment down.”
It wasn’t nearly as exciting as Serena had hoped. She was sent around with a brush and a bucket of soapy water to scrub all the milking suction tubes, while Grace followed her, hosing them off.
“Hey!” Serena shouted when Grace spritzed her.
Grace shook her head. “‘Let’s milk the cows,’ you said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ you said.”
“I didn’t know they’d put us on cleanup duty.” Serena slopped a dollop of soapy water over the ends of the tubing, which resembled jump rope handles. Annie had helped Grace and her find black muck boots that came up to their knees, so their feet were sweaty and dry, but their arms were speckled with water. Serena pretended to slip, slopping some water onto Grace.
“I can’t believe you. . . .” Grace’s mouth opened wide. And then she held up the hose and gave Serena a healthy spray. “Gotcha.”
Serena let out a squeal as cold water drenched her clothes. And then they were laughing together, splashing each other with cold water, which was a shocking but welcome relief from the heat of the day.
“What’s going on here?” Sam asked as he approached, and Grace quickly whipped around and shot him in the shoulder with water.
“Oops!” Grace shrugged, still chuckling. “Sorry, I guess.”
He pulled his wet shirt away from his chest. “I’ve done worse. You know, if you like getting wet, we can set you up to wash down the cows tomorrow.”
Serena liked the idea of washing a cow, the way she used to bathe her poodle. “We’ll see about that.”
“But for now, you’d better get back to cleaning the equipment if you want to get to dinner.”
Since Serena had missed breakfast, the promise of Aunt Miriam’s home cooking sounded good. “We’ve got this,” Serena told Sam, turning to her sister. “Time to power wash, Grace.”
“I’m right behind you.”
By the time they left the barn, they were both in a better mood, despite the fact that Serena sensed herself beginning to smell like that odd combination of earthy grain and manure. They both took quick showers and hurried ou
tside to where Essie and Aunt Miriam were setting up dinner.
“Tomato sandwiches?” Serena was dubious. That didn’t seem to make a meal at all. But the garden tomatoes were delicious on homemade bread, along with grilled sausage, corn on the cob, crudités, and rhubarb juice.
As they ate, she asked Megan where she kept disappearing to, and Megan explained that she’d walked the four corners of the farm. “Just to get my bearings,” Megan said, “and it’s a good way to condition my knee.”
After Megan’s ACL injury, doctors had been skeptical that she would ever play soccer again, which had been one of the things that had thrown Megan into depression. Was Megan thinking soccer would be in her future? Serena hated to see her twin disappointed again. “So how’s your knee feeling?”
“Fine.” Megan’s friends used to call her “brevity girl.” Everyone in the family totally understood why.
“Did you find anyplace on the farm that gets cell phone service?” Grace asked.
Megan shook her head no.
“What good are your phones if they never work?” Lizzie asked.
“Good question,” Megan said, picking up a sandwich half. “You want to field that one, Serena?”
“When they work, they’re awesome,” she said. “We need to go into town. There’s got to be some service there.” She turned toward the head of the table. “Aunt Miriam, can we pretty please get a ride to town tomorrow?”
“Saturday. Hmm. Alvin might take you along when he does errands.”
Alvin’s beard bobbed as he chewed. “I reckon I could.”
“Yay,” Serena said as quietly as she could. “At last . . . civilization.”
Most of the family at the table didn’t seem to hear her, though Essie’s lips tightened into a frown.
“I’m kidding,” Serena said, though everyone’s attention turned to Aunt Miriam when she mentioned that it was time to bring out dessert, bumbleberry pie.
While the table was being cleared, Serena checked her cell phone again. Nothing. Why did she torture herself?
“Did you get enough to eat, girls?” Aunt Miriam asked, leaning in to remove an empty pitcher.
They all agreed that they had.
“Now that you’re done, you need to clear your plates and go into the kitchen to help. Essie will show you what needs to be done.”
Serena exchanged looks with her sisters. Should she be embarrassed for not offering to help, or annoyed at being put to work?
“We’re stuck now,” Grace muttered on the way into the house. “Now they’ll expect us to pitch in all the time.”
“It’s not that bad,” Megan said. “When you have something to do, it makes the time fly by.”
“Fast-forward one year,” Grace said. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
In the kitchen Essie was at the sink washing, Annie was drying, and Lizzie was putting things away in the cupboard. When Serena said they had come to help, Essie acted like it was a wonderful thing. So like her mother. Serena and Megan could take over the washing and drying so that the other girls could move on to other chores.
“And you can help me put things away,” Lizzie told Grace. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to reach the top shelf.”
“What are the other chores?” Serena asked as she grabbed a rag and submerged her hands in warm, soapy water. At this rate, she’d have the cleanest hands in the county. “Just wondering.”
“Annie needs to make sure the chickens are in their coop for the night,” Essie answered, “and I’ll take the slop bucket out and wipe down the tables outside and prepare to mop in here.”
Slop bucket? Gross. Serena would stick with the dishes. She felt a tinge of self-pity, stuck here with her hands in hot water, but then, she wasn’t alone. Her sisters and cousins were all doing chores, too.
As they worked, Lizzie taught them a song about how Gott made the stars shine and the ivy grow because of love. Essie returned with bucket and mop and began singing harmonies, and, for a moment, Serena felt as if they were all different flowers wrapped together in a sweet bouquet.
When the dishes were done and the countertops wiped clean, they went outside to enjoy the cooler air and waning light. Sitting at the picnic table, Serena and Grace hatched their plan to go into town in the morning.
“I hope I can talk to Dad,” Grace said, her voice a little wobbly.
“Me too,” Serena said, though her first call would be to Jigger. What would she say? He would get a large charge out of the selfie she’d taken with the black cow in the milking parlor. But after that . . . What would there be to say beyond words of regret that she’d been whisked away to a Lancaster County farm to live with her Amish family? Suddenly, she was feeling a little blue, too.
The littlest one, Sarah Rose, tapped Grace on the shoulder and held a cardboard box out to her.
“She wants you to play a game,” Lizzie said. “That’s her favorite.”
Serena looked down at the box. “Trouble. I remember that game. It’s got dice in a plastic bubble.”
“Sorry, little rug rat,” Grace said. “I don’t know how to play.”
“It’s okay.” Sarah Rose pushed the box onto the table and climbed onto the bench beside Grace. “I’ll teach you.”
Megan and Grace took lessons from the tiny girl in the white kapp. So cute! She reminded Serena of a little doll.
They played the game together until it was too dark to see and Aunt Miriam called them in. Sarah Rose, kneeling on the bench, was good at counting out the spaces, but mostly she liked popping the plastic bubble that held the dice on the game board.
Although it was barely nine o’clock, Serena felt tired. Aunt Miriam had lit a kerosene lamp inside the house, enough for her to read by, and she went upstairs to change into her nightgown. By the time Serena washed up, the other girls were already in bed, yawning and making up bedtime stories. Serena tossed her cell phone on the bed and turned toward the door, planning to read one of the family’s books until Scout rolled in on the milk truck. As she passed by one set of bunk beds, Grace scooched over to the side and patted the mattress.
“Snuggle with me?” Grace asked, turning the sheet down. “Just for a few minutes.”
How could she say no? Neither of her sisters had asked Serena to get close like that since . . . well, since they were little kids. She slid out of her slippers and wiggled into the narrow bed. “Cozy.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a pain.” Grace turned toward the wall, giving Serena more room to nestle in behind her.
“You’re not,” Serena insisted, though it was clear that Grace was in pain.
“I just feel kind of lost here. Like I’m drifting on the current.” Grace’s voice was low, a dull whisper. “But you and Megan are my anchor. You keep me from drifting away.”
“Okay, then.” Serena put her hand on her sister’s shoulder and rested her chin against Grace’s hair. “I’m holding on tight.”
“Don’t let go.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
They fell asleep that way.
Sometime in the early morning, Serena woke up and returned to her bunk. When she pressed the button on her cell phone and saw that it was after three a.m., she realized she’d slept through Scout’s visit. She was too tired to feel sad.
There would be plenty more chances. She would catch him next time.
Chapter Seven
The next day, Serena and Grace waited on the front porch as Sam brought a gray buggy around from the stables. The horse pulling the rig was a chocolate brown, and, watching it trot along, Serena imagined herself as some kind of royalty awaiting her carriage. Uncle Alvin came out the door behind them and told them to come along if they wanted to go into town.
In Serena’s memory, the carriage had seemed bigger, as she remembered times when the whole family had piled in. She and Grace sat on the bench in the back, while Alvin sat in front beside his son. The carriage bounced over a rut in the lane, and then they were on the paved highway, the horse’s
hooves settling into a steady clip-clop rhythm.
“When I was a boy, we went to the library to borrow books,” Uncle Alvin said. “Now even plain folk go to use the computers for all manner of business.”
“I thought the Amish couldn’t use electricity,” Serena said.
“We can’t have it in our homes. We can’t own the electric machines. But we can use them. Though I don’t. And I don’t need a phone to carry round in my pocket. If I need to make a call, there’s the phone shack.”
“But you’re missing the beauty of a cell phone,” Grace explained. “It’s more than a phone. Really, it’s a tiny computer with a camera and access to the Internet and games and stuff. There’s even a calculator that you could use for business.”
“I do calculations with paper and pencil and the brain Gott gave me,” he said.
Sam shook his head, avoiding the conversation.
“But cell phones help bring people together,” Serena explained. “When we get to the library, we can send a message to our dad, and send photos to all our friends.”
“When I was a boy, we sent messages. Wrote them on a piece of paper and left them on a person’s doorstep.” Uncle Alvin’s voice seemed gruff, but when he turned back to face the girls, there was a twinkle in his eyes. “That’s how I courted your aunt.”
“Aw.” Serena smiled. “That’s so sweet.”
“It’s just the way of the Amish,” said Alvin. “And we live plain to keep distractions and temptations away. It’s those things that threaten to take family members away and lead congregants away. We choose to live without them.”
Serena didn’t believe that cell phones led people away from you, but she respected her uncle’s opinion and realized this wasn’t a matter up for debate. “Well, thanks for the lift to the library,” she said. “I’m kind of excited to be in town.”
Sam gave them the farm’s address, which they would need to get library cards. As the buggy clopped along the highway, two cars passed them, one honking so loudly that it made all the passengers flinch. The horse let out a cry, but Sam managed to keep it under control.
“That’s so obnoxious,” Serena hissed under her breath.
An Amish Homecoming Page 5
