by Amy Clipston
“Gertrude, hi.” Drew unlatched the screen door and opened it. “What can I do for you?”
“You can join us for supper.” She motioned toward the house. “I made chicken and dumplings, and we have plenty to share.”
“Oh, no.” Drew shook his head. “I don’t want to impose.”
“Impose?” She craned her neck to peer into his kitchen. “Is that a frozen pizza on your counter?”
“Yeah.” Drew almost felt ashamed.
“Put that away and come join Ervin and me. I insist.” Gertrude lifted her chin.
“All right. Let me turn off the oven and put the pizza back in the freezer.”
A few minutes later, Drew took a seat at the Lapps’ long kitchen table. They all bowed their heads for a silent prayer and then began filling their plates with chicken, dumplings, and green beans. The delicious aroma of a homemade meal made Drew’s stomach gurgle with delight.
“This is fantastic,” Drew told Gertrude after he took a bite. “Thank you for saving me from that frozen pizza.”
Ervin’s loud, boisterous laughter filled the kitchen, and Drew and Gertrude joined in.
“My Gertrude’s cooking can beat frozen food any day.” Ervin wiped his eyes with a napkin as he continued to smile. Like Gertrude, he was in his mid-seventies. His hair and long beard were completely gray, but his bright brown eyes and big smile told he had many years left in him.
“You were busy today, weren’t you?” Gertrude asked Drew.
Drew nodded while he finished chewing, then said, “I worked on repairing that bench in the barn, and I also had to run Cindy Riehl to the drugstore.”
“Oh?” Gertrude’s eyebrows lifted. “Why did she ask you instead of her driver?”
“It was an emergency for Kayla.” Drew explained how Alice had been ill and Kayla couldn’t reach their driver. “I took her to the store to get some pain reliever. By the time we got back, Alice had settled down some.”
“That’s a shame that their driver had his ringer off. I still say those cell phones aren’t as reliable as an old-fashioned phone.” Ervin emphasized his words with a swish of his fork through the air.
Drew bit back a smile at the older man’s comments.
“I hope Kayla isn’t too worn out,” Gertrude said. “It can be scary when a baby has a fever.”
Drew looked down at his plate as he mentally replayed how Cindy had shut down when he asked her to share happy memories. Once again, he worried he had hurt her feelings. But her warm smile before he left her farm told him they were still friends. Maybe talking about her mother was still too painful, especially with someone she barely knew. He’d have to give her time and space to feel comfortable enough to talk about her with him.
He looked at Gertrude and recalled how close the members of the Amish community seemed during their lunch that Sunday he joined them. She would probably know the details of what happened to Cindy’s mom.
“What happened to Cindy’s mom?” he asked.
Gertrude’s pleasant expression faltered, and Drew braced himself for an emotional story.
“Oh my. It was so tragic.” Gertrude looked at her husband, who frowned and shook his head. “Dorothy and Cindy were canning vegetables. Dorothy was carrying some jars down to the basement and apparently lost her footing and grabbed the banister, which gave way. She fell over the side and broke her neck, passing away instantly.”
Drew gasped. “That’s terrible.”
“Ya, it is.” Gertrude’s eyes misted. “The family was devastated.”
“Was Cindy there when it happened?”
Gertrude gave a somber nod. “She was in the kitchen and heard her mother scream. She found her, and then she had to run for her father and Mark. They were in the barn.”
“I can’t even fathom how she must have felt,” Drew said, his voice shaky as he imagined the depth of her grief. Did Cindy blame herself for her mother’s fall? He hoped not, but for years he blamed himself for his parents’ car accident. He understood the complexity of survivor’s guilt. He prayed Cindy had worked through any self-blame, just as he had with God’s help.
“Jamie was on duty with the fire department that night,” Ervin added. “He got the call and rushed to the house only to find his mother already gone.”
Drew cringed. “That had to be heartbreaking for him.”
“I believe it was.” Gertrude sighed. “That family has faced a lot of challenges, but they’ve made it through with God’s help.”
“Ya, that’s the truth,” Ervin agreed.
Drew nodded. Would Cindy confide in him someday, tell him how she felt about her mother’s accident? He wasn’t sure what more he could do to earn her trust, but he knew he wanted to try.
six
Drew pushed his grocery cart toward the end of the cereal aisle, but then he halted when he spotted a young Amish woman standing at the meat counter. He took in her tall and thin stature, and his thoughts immediately turned to Cindy.
It had been two weeks since he’d taken her to the drugstore, and he’d thought of her every day. He’d been disappointed when Roy stopped by with a strawberry pie from Cindy. While the pie had been delicious, he’d hoped to see her in person.
The story of her mother’s death had invaded his thoughts. Of course, he would never bring up the subject, but if Cindy mentioned it, he’d be ready to listen and offer his sympathy and encouragement.
The young woman at the counter paid for her items and set them in her cart. When she turned to go, Drew caught a glimpse of her face and then hurried down the aisle.
“Cindy!” he called.
Cindy turned toward him, and a beautiful smile broke out on her face. She looked so pretty in a purple dress with a black apron, but he knew she’d look pretty in a burlap sack. “Drew. Hi.”
“How are you?” He stopped his cart beside hers.
“I’m well. How are you?”
“I’m great.” Especially now! “Thank you for the delicious pie. I need to return the pie plate.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver it, but it’s been a busy couple of weeks.”
“How’s Alice?”
Her expression warmed. “She’s fine. Her fever broke soon after we brought her the medicine. Thank you for asking.”
“I almost stopped by to see how she was, but I wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate.”
“That’s so kind of you. Thank you for thinking of her.”
“Of course.” He studied her, and an awkward silence fell over them. Had she truly been busy all this time? Or had she deliberately avoided him? Was he kidding himself that they could ever truly be friends?
“Well, I should go.” She gave him a shy smile. “Take care.”
As she started to walk away, he racked his brain for something to say to make her stay. Then an idea floated into his mind.
“Cindy!” he called again, and she turned toward him. “What are you doing tonight?”
Her brow furrowed, and she looked adorable. “What do you mean?”
“It’s the Fourth of July.” He pushed his cart over to hers again. “Do you have any plans?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Would you like to go see fireworks with me?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Have you ever seen fireworks?”
“I saw them from afar when I was at a friend’s farm once.”
“You have to be in the park to see them up close. I’ll take you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She grimaced. “I don’t think my dad would let me.”
“It’ll be so fun.” He held his breath. Please say yes!
Her expression relaxed slightly. “What time would we have to leave?”
“Probably around seven.”
“I’ll ask my father, and if he says yes, I’ll walk down to your house at seven.”
“Great.” Hope lit in his chest.
“Maybe I’ll see you later,
then.” She gave him a little wave and then pushed her cart down another aisle.
Drew was sorry none of his friends were there to give him a high five, not that he’d socialized much since Aunt Shirley died. If he were honest, he’d have to admit he’d had only superficial friendships since high school, when his close friends all left for college. He hadn’t even dated beyond a few first dates.
After a week of wishing he could spend more time with Cindy, though, he just might have the chance tonight. If only her father would say yes . . .
* * *
Cindy set the last plate in the drainboard and then turned toward where her father and Roy sat at the table as Florence wiped it down. Sudden nervousness blossomed in her belly as the question she’d longed to ask him all afternoon echoed in her mind. She’d waited for the perfect opportunity to talk to Dat alone, but it never came.
Her gaze moved to the clock, and her chest tightened. It was six thirty. She had to ask him now, or she’d never make it to Drew’s house on time.
“Let’s go take care of the animals,” Dat told Roy before pushing back his chair and standing.
“Dat,” Cindy said, “I need to ask you something.”
“What is it?” Dat turned toward her, a pleasant expression on his handsome face.
“Could I please go with Drew to see fireworks tonight?” The words escaped her lips and then hung in the air as her father froze.
Florence looked up, her brow furrowed. “With Drew?”
“Did Drew ask you out on a date?” Sarah Jane looked as if the words tasted sour as she dried a pot.
“No, it’s not a date.” Cindy’s cheeks burned, and she tried to bury her irritation with Florence and Sarah Jane behind a shaky smile. “I saw Drew at the market today, and he asked me if I’d ever seen fireworks. When I told him I hadn’t, he invited me to go with him. May I go, please?” She kept her eyes focused on her father even though she could feel the others’ stares burning into her skin.
“Why would you want to see fireworks?” Dat’s words were simple but held an edge of anger. Or was it worry?
“Why not?” Cindy shrugged. “It’s the Fourth of July, and the Englishers go to see fireworks.”
“You’re not English.” A frown twisted her father’s face.
Frustration swept into every tense muscle. “I’m not baptized either.” She heard Florence gasp at her bold statement, and her anger flared.
Dat’s eyes widened for a moment, and she was almost certain she found pain and sadness there. Guilt chewed on her insides, but she tried to dismiss it. Yes, her father wanted nothing more than for her to join the church, but it was her decision when—if—she would. Dat had no right to make that decision for her.
“It’s inappropriate for you to date when you haven’t been baptized,” Dat barked, his voice bouncing off the cabinets.
“We’re only freinden.” Cindy heard the hint of a whine in her voice. “You have no reason not to trust me. You and Jamie invited him to join you for lunch after church. You seem to trust him.”
Dat studied her. “Why would you want to spend time with Drew?”
Cindy shrugged. “He’s nice. I like talking to him.” She folded her hands as if to pray. “I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me, and I don’t plan to start now. Please let me go. Drew is a freind of the family, and you know him. You know he’s a gut, Christian man.”
Dat looked down at the floor and then fingered his beard. Cindy could almost hear his conflicting thoughts.
When he looked up, his lips made a thin line, but he looked resigned. “Come home right after the fireworks end,” he finally said.
Cindy’s heart did a little dance. “Danki, Dat. I promise I will.”
Dat and Roy headed outside as Cindy turned her attention back to the frothy water in the sink. She began to quickly wash the last of the dishes and set them in the drainboard. She was aware of Sarah Jane’s dark eyes watching her. She tried her best to finish before her stepsister could start berating her.
Cindy set the last glass in the drainboard and then dried her hands. “I need to get ready,” she muttered before starting for the stairs.
“Cindy,” Sarah Jane called. “Wait. I have a question for you.”
Cindy turned to face her stepsister’s hard gaze.
“Why do you want to go see fireworks with an Englisher, but you refuse to go to youth group with the members of your community?” Sarah Jane motioned around the kitchen as if for emphasis.
Cindy’s throat thickened as Florence came to stand beside her daughter, wearing the same judgmental expression. Cindy could feel the disappointment rolling off her stepmother. Cindy would never live up to Sarah Jane’s perfection.
“Drew is mei freind.” Cindy couldn’t control the quaver in her voice.
“What are the members of our community, then?” Sarah Jane said, challenge in her tone.
Cindy looked at Florence in search of understanding, but found nothing but chagrin in her dark eyes. She looked past them toward the clock, and her heartbeat jumped. She had only ten minutes to get changed and down to Drew’s house.
“I have to go.” She rushed up the stairs and changed into her favorite blue dress. Then after checking her prayer covering in the mirror, she hurried down the steps, through the kitchen and mudroom, and out the back door.
She was grateful Florence and Sarah Jane didn’t speak to her as she left, but she was certain they were discussing her at length now. She swatted that thought away as she hurried to the Lapps’ farm.
Her heart rate spiked at the thought of seeing Drew again, just like it had at the market that morning. Had he missed her as much as she’d missed him this past week? He’d seemed glad to see her, and then this invitation . . .
When she baked the strawberry pie, she told Florence it was to thank Drew for helping her get the medicine for Alice. Florence had Roy take the pie to Drew so fast she’d had no time to protest. Still, she didn’t want to appear too forward.
That’s why she was thrilled when Drew approached her, sparing her from chasing after him like one of the young women who used to pursue her brother Mark before he married Priscilla.
Why were her feelings for Drew so complicated?
Her shoes crunched on the rock driveway as she made her way to his house. When her feet hit the porch steps the door swung open, revealing both Drew and Bruce.
“You made it!” Drew’s smile was bright as he opened the screen door and Bruce bounded out to see her.
“Hi, Bruce.” She gave a little laugh as she rubbed his neck. “I missed you, too, buddy.”
“I’m so glad your dad said yes.”
“I am too.” She looked up at him, taking in his khaki shorts and crisp green T-shirt. “I didn’t bring any food or anything. Did I need to?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I just have to grab a couple of things from inside. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” Cindy continued to pet Bruce while she waited for Drew to return.
A few minutes later, Drew appeared with a cooler and a quilt.
“Oh no.” She cringed. “I was supposed to bring food.”
“No, you weren’t. I just grabbed a few drinks for us. I thought we’d go out for ice cream afterward, if you have time.”
“That sounds great.” She thrust away her father’s insistence that she come home right after the fireworks and reached for the quilt. “Let me carry something.”
“Thanks.” Drew set the cooler on the porch floor and held the screen door open. “Go on inside, boy. I’ll see you later.”
Bruce whined as he looked at Cindy and then at Drew.
“Aww.” Cindy laughed. “He doesn’t want to go inside.”
“I know, buddy, but hopefully we’ll see her again soon.” Drew whistled and motioned toward the house. “Go on now.”
Bruce reluctantly walked into the house, and Drew closed and locked the front door. Then he picked up the cooler. “Let’s go. I want to find you a good
seat.”
Cindy followed him down the steps and to the truck. She climbed into the passenger seat and set the quilt at her feet as he took his spot on the driver’s side.
She tried to forget the conversation she’d had with her father, Sarah Jane, and Florence as Drew drove toward the main road. Guilt and irritation warred in her gut as she recalled the disappointment and accusation in her family members’ eyes. Why couldn’t they see that Drew was just a good friend?
Because a relationship with an Englisher is forbidden.
She squeezed her eyes shut as the words echoed from the back of her mind. Yes, this relationship was forbidden, but how could an innocent friendship be sinful?
When Drew stopped the truck at a red light, he looked over at her. “Penny for your thoughts?”
She bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to ruin their pleasant evening by telling him she’d shared heated words with her family members over him. Besides, if she admitted to Drew that her father wasn’t happy about their friendship, he might take her home out of respect for Dat. She didn’t want that.
“How’s your math class going?” The question leapt from her lips.
“Well enough. I got a B on my last test.”
“That’s great.” She clapped her hands.
“Do you want to know my secret?”
“Sure.”
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Your cookies and pie were my good luck charms.”
She waved off the statement with a chuckle. “That’s not true.”
“It’s the truth.” He crossed his finger over his chest as if crossing his heart.
She shook her head. “You did it all yourself. You studied, and you earned the good grade.”
“No, I think it’s your baking for sure.” He steered the truck through the intersection.
“How’s your English class?”
“Good. We’re reading a pretty interesting novel right now.”
“What’s the book about?”
Drew spent the rest of the drive telling her the book’s premise and plot, and she enjoyed listening to his assessment of the symbolism in it. She studied the line of his jaw and enjoyed the sound of his voice as he spoke too. He was the most handsome, appealing man she’d ever met.
