A Perfect Amish Match

by Vannetta Chapman

Avoid stacks of old newspapers or other clutter that cause anxiety and represent a tripping hazard.

  Install a handrail on both sides of the front-porch steps and in the bathroom.

  “It’s a lot,” Mammi said.

  “But most of these things are small.” Olivia Mae felt empowered by the list. Finally, she understood that there were things they could do to make life easier and safer for all of them, to make living here possible—if only her brothers would agree to it.

  Jeanette stayed another thirty minutes, going over dietary suggestions and support for caregivers. When Olivia Mae walked her out to her car, she said, “You’re doing a good job here, Olivia Mae.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Trust me. I’ve seen all sorts of home situations. What you’ve done here, without any guidance, is very good.”

  “I have five bruders in Maine. They all think we should move closer to them.”

  “It might be a good idea. I don’t recommend that you—or any caregiver—try to handle such a situation on their own, and your grandmother is going to need additional care as the years pass. They both will.”

  “One day at a time,” Olivia Mae murmured.

  “Yes, that’s a good thing to keep in mind, but we also have to keep an eye on the future. You know, too often I see situations like this wear down a caregiver—women who are forty and look sixty, women who were in good health suddenly dealing with back problems and anxiety and sleeplessness.” She opened the door to her car, but she didn’t get in. “If your brothers are willing to help, let them. Anyone who is willing to help, they’re a gift from God.”

  Winking, she got into her car. “I’m not supposed to make religious comments, but I didn’t think I’d offend you.”

  “Nein. You didn’t.”

  “Good. I’ll see you next week.”

  Olivia Mae watched the sleek gray car drive away. One more person who thought they should move. It seemed everyone thought it was a good idea but her. So maybe she was being stubborn. Maybe she was too close to the problem to see things clearly.

  * * *

  Noah directed Snickers down Olivia Mae’s lane at exactly six o’clock. He was having second thoughts about inviting her out to dinner. Olivia Mae was dealing with a lot right now. Why did he think she’d like to go out for a night on the town? No doubt she’d accepted out of pity for him.

  Unless...

  But his mind froze as soon as the word unless entered. He simply couldn’t see beyond his doubts and bad experiences.

  She was waiting on the porch, wearing her customary light gray dress and white apron. She was smiling, though. Surely that was something. As soon as he stopped the gelding, she walked down the steps, but he hopped out of the buggy before she reached him.

  “Would it be okay if I go inside a minute? Just to say hello to Abe.”

  The old guy had been on his mind nearly as much as Olivia Mae had. Noah had never seen anyone enjoy a game of checkers so much.

  Olivia Mae seemed surprised at his request, but she nodded and walked back up onto the porch. When they stepped into the living room, something looked different, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Of course, the pots and bowls were gone, but there was something else that had changed.

  Then he snapped his fingers. “You took out the rugs.”

  “Apparently they’re a tripping hazard,” Rachel said. She glanced at Abe, smiled and then turned her attention back to Noah. “I have some coffee on the stove. I could heat it up if you’d like a cup.”

  “Nein. We’re about to go and eat. I just wanted to say hello.”

  Abe looked up from peas that he was shelling. “Hello. I’m Abe Lapp.”

  Noah stepped forward, taking off his hat as he did so. “Noah Graber.”

  “Do I know you?”

  “Ya, I believe you do.”

  “Sometimes I can’t remember.”

  “I’m the one who wants to forget—you thrashed me at checkers the other night.”

  Abe cocked his head as if he could capture the memory. Finally, he shrugged and said, “I was always gut at checkers.”

  Abe returned his attention to the peas, and Rachel picked up her knitting. “You two go on now. Have a nice evening.”

  “You’re sure—”

  “Olivia Mae, we’ll be fine. Now shoo.”

  Olivia Mae turned to look at Noah, one eyebrow arched slightly higher than the other. “Did she just shoo me?”

  “I think she did.”

  “I guess we should go then.”

  “We might as well.”

  Noah liked teasing Olivia Mae. He liked when she smiled and the worries she wore like a shawl fell away. He liked making her happy, and at the moment she definitely looked as if she was looking forward to the evening.

  He started toward the door and then turned back toward Rachel. “My bruder and his wife are going to stop by in an hour or so, just to make sure everything is okay.”

  “It’ll be nice to see them,” Rachel said.

  On the drive into town, he asked Olivia Mae about the nurse’s visit. She told him the things they were going to change around the house and asked if he knew anyone who could install handrails for the porch and bathroom.

  “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “But I want to.” The matter seemed to be settled. He was suddenly glad he hadn’t accepted the offer to work one of the Saturday auctions. While the money probably would have been good, at this point he didn’t need the money. But Olivia Mae did need the help.

  When they reached the downtown area of Goshen, he said, “Where would you like to eat?”

  “You haven’t already picked the place?”

  “Nein. My dating instructor says it’s best to let the lady choose.”

  “Smart instructor.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Olivia Mae pretended to have a hard time deciding, but finally she leaned toward him and said, “I’d love pizza.”

  “Would you, now?”

  “Not typical Amish food, I know, which is why I’d like it.”

  “You’re not picking pizza because it’s cheap?”

  “We’ll share a dessert if you just want to spend more money.”

  “Deal.” He directed Snickers down Main Street and pulled into the parking area across the street from the town’s most popular pizza spot. The place was packed, which wasn’t surprising considering it was a Friday night. For some reason, that didn’t irritate him like it had the last time he’d tried to eat there.

  Instead he snagged two chairs at an outside table as soon as a couple left, and he waved wildly at Olivia Mae, who was standing in line. She shrugged, indicating she wasn’t about to get out of line, and he couldn’t leave the table.

  It was a predicament! Then he remembered he was wearing a light jacket. He took it off, draped it over one of the chairs and accepted two glasses of water from the worker who was walking by. Orders were placed at the window, but several teens bussed tables and distributed glasses of water, silverware and napkins. Satisfied that no one would mistake their table for an empty one and grab it, he hurried over to Olivia Mae.

  “How about you hold the table, and I’ll place the order.”

  “I could place the order.”

  “But I want to pay.”

  “You don’t have to pay. This isn’t that kind of date.”

  “Ya, I know, but I want to.”

  An Englisch couple in front of them couldn’t help overhearing their conversation.

  “Sounds like our first date,” the woman said.

  The man nodded in agreement. “And our second.”

  “We finally agreed to take turns.”

  “Gut idea,” Noah said. “I’ll take the first turn.�
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  “Fine. I’d like Canadian bacon and pineapple.”

  “Sounds disgusting.”

  “It’s gut, I promise.”

  “We’ll do half and half.”

  “What are you putting on your half?”

  “Anchovies, of course.”

  She wrinkled her nose, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Never order anchovies while you’re on a date.”

  He matched her tone, as if they were sharing an intimate secret. “I was kidding.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Ya.”

  “Gut. Your dating score is improving by the minute.”

  “Not so fast. You’re not getting out of my third lesson.” Whistling, he moved forward in the line, as she hurried back toward the table. Instead of paying attention to the menu posted overhead on a chalkboard, or the people in front of him, he kept peeking over at Olivia Mae. When she caught him watching her, he smiled, offered a little wave and turned to study the crowd.

  About half of the teenagers—both Amish and Englisch—were tapping on their cell phones. People thought Amish teens didn’t have cell phones, but of course many of them did. The difference was that their parents didn’t pay for them. If a youngie wanted to work an extra five or ten hours a week to afford a phone, that was up to them. Noah didn’t know a single family that allowed them in the house, though, so most teens kept them out on the porch or even in the barn. Noah had better things to spend his money on, like a bachelor pad or dinners with Olivia Mae.

  Quite a few tables were occupied by families with young children. He glanced over at Olivia Mae again. She’d begun talking to a mother who was holding a young baby. If he wasn’t imagining things, a look of yearning passed over Olivia Mae’s face.

  Why had she never married?

  She would make a good wife, a good mother. Any man would be happy to have her by his side.

  He shook away those thoughts as he stepped forward to place their order. He was helping a friend who needed a night away. It was nothing more than that, even if he wanted it to be.

  The wait for their pizza passed too quickly. They never ran out of things to talk about, but they would occasionally lapse into silence, which was just as comfortable.

  Dating was easy when he was with Olivia Mae. He felt none of the awkwardness that he’d suffered through with Jane and Francine.

  It seemed they’d barely arrived, but already their dinner was finished, and he found himself looking for ways to avoid taking her home.

  “Let’s go for ice cream.”

  “I’m too full. I shouldn’t have eaten that last slice of supreme.”

  “I told you that you’d like it.”

  “You did, and you were right, especially since it didn’t include anchovies.” She patted her stomach as if it was huge, which it wasn’t.

  “Ice cream would be gut. We can even share a scoop.” When she looked at him like he was wearing his hat backward, he backpedaled. “Or get a small. We’ll get a children’s cone. Come on. I haven’t had ice cream in ages.”

  She finally relented, declaring he was more persistent than a child. It was while they were sitting in front of the ice-cream shop—Olivia Mae holding a cone with strawberry ice cream and chocolate sprinkles, Noah enjoying a double dip of butter pecan—that she became serious about the subject of his dating.

  “You know, Noah, I think I understand your problem.”

  He’d been chasing a dribble of ice cream down his cone, but now he froze and raised his eyes to hers.

  “Don’t look at me that way. I just meant I think I understand your issues with women.” She rushed on when he tried to interrupt. “It’s not that you need lessons. It’s that you’re an introvert.”

  “A what?”

  “An introvert.” She bit into the crunchy cone. “You know. Someone who is more comfortable alone.”

  “I don’t know if that’s true.”

  “Does being around a large group of people wear you out?”

  “Like an Amish gathering, you mean? Ya. Sometimes.”

  “Do you prefer a few close friendships to a lot of casual ones?”

  He thought about that a minute and finally admitted, “The only real friends I’ve ever had are my bruders.”

  “You’re a gut listener, and you seem to think before you talk—usually.”

  “Danki. I guess.”

  “It’s not bad to be an introvert.”

  “What are you?”

  “Maybe a mixture of the two, but if I had to choose? Introvert. I tend to look at life from the inside out.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “You know.” She tapped her chest. “I think about what people are feeling before I think about what they’re doing or saying. Of course, we can’t always know what someone else is feeling, so life can be hard for an introvert.”

  “Are you saying it’s hopeless?”

  “I’m saying that when you’re comfortable with someone, like I think you’re comfortable with me, then you act normal. You don’t feel as if you have to cover every silence with words, and you haven’t told a single animal joke tonight.”

  “I thought you liked my jokes.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I see what you mean, I guess.” In truth he knew that his problem wasn’t that simple. If Olivia Mae knew the truth about him, if she knew his past, she wouldn’t think the problem was as simple as what personality type he was.

  Chapter Eleven

  Olivia Mae had been enjoying herself for the first time in a long time when Noah’s mood suddenly changed. He tossed his unfinished cone into the trash, said it was getting late and walked her back to the buggy without another word.

  She didn’t understand what had happened.

  She’d thought he was enjoying the night as much as she was.

  As they drove back to her house, an uncomfortable silence filled the buggy. Noah drove as if the road required every ounce of his attention.

  He didn’t smile.

  Didn’t speak.

  Didn’t tell a single joke.

  Could it be that she’d misread the entire situation? It had started to feel like a real date, but perhaps he didn’t think of her that way. Perhaps he was just slogging through his commitment to the deal he’d made with his mother. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t interested in a plump wife.

  Nein.

  Whatever had changed his mood, she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with her and Noah, and it certainly had nothing to do with her weight. That insecurity was her past, exerting itself into her present. She didn’t have to allow that. She didn’t have to let her old fears and old hurts ruin a perfectly good evening.

  When they reached her grandparents’ farm, Noah helped her out of the buggy, murmured “good night” and then strode back around to the driver’s side.

  She thought about letting him go.

  But something told her that tonight was a chance she didn’t want to let slip away. A chance for what, she didn’t know, but she followed her instinct. “If you have a minute, I’d like you to stay.”

  “Stay?”

  “Sit on the porch with me. I need to run inside and check on Mammi and Daddi, but I’d like...I’d like to talk to you a minute.”

  If anything, Noah looked more miserable than he had on the buggy ride home, but he nodded in agreement so she hurried into the house.

  Daddi was already in bed sleeping.

  Mammi was sitting in her rocker, an open Bible in her lap and a cup of tea on the table beside her.

  Telling her grandmother to holler if she needed anything, Olivia Mae grabbed a dark green shawl from the hook by the door and walked back outside. She almost took a lantern, but she had a feeling that Noah would be more comfortable speaking if he didn’t have to look directly at
her.

  She stopped to close the screen door quietly, stood there in the pool of light and Noah said, “That color looks gut on you.”

  Her heart tripped a beat. “Danki.”

  “Did you make it?”

  “Ya.”

  “From your sheep wool?”

  “Nein. I never did buy a spinner. The whole thing was too expensive. So I sell the wool, and use the money to buy more yarn.” She didn’t add that this was a sweater she’d purchased from the thrift store, frogged and reworked into a light shawl. Admitting that a week ago might have stirred the old ache in her heart for what could have been, but now it seemed trivial. It was unimportant. She understood that Noah meant the compliment, but he was stalling.

  She sat down in the rocker beside him and said, “Explain to me what happened.”

  “When?”

  “Earlier. At the ice-cream shop, when you went quiet.”

  She thought he might refuse her. He set the chair to rocking, stared out at the night and finally ran a hand up and across the back of his neck, massaging the muscles there.

  “What you said about my being an introvert, that might be true. It might be part of it, but it’s not all of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you knew my history, you’d understand that it’s nothing as simple as personality type.”

  “So explain it to me—explain what you mean by your history.”

  Instead of answering, Noah dropped his head into his hands.

  Olivia Mae waited a minute, then two. Finally she said, “It’s not that bad, Noah.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because the moon is still shining.”

  His head jerked up, he looked out over the porch railing, out into the cool summer evening, and then back at Olivia Mae. “You’re saying the world goes on.”

  “I’m saying that sometimes things seem worse when they’re stuck in our head, going round and round.” She thought of the letters still in the box in her room. She’d let those doubts and fears and hurts trouble her for too long. Why was she free of them now? What had changed?

  She couldn’t say.

  She only knew it felt good not to carry that weight any longer.