An Amish Easter Wish

Chapter Two

David gathered the tools he’d used and stored them in the toolbox. He tossed the old thermostat in a nearby trash can. The freezer was humming, a sure sign the problem had been solved. Usually he felt a sense of satisfaction when he confronted a problem, evaluated the situation, considered the facts and found a solution.

Not this afternoon. He felt nothing but utter confusion, which was growing by the minute like dandelions would in a few months across his lawn.

He watched as Mikayla chopped garlic and sprinkled it on the roasts while Abby closed the foil over them. He hadn’t guessed Mikayla knew how to do that.

He didn’t know because he hadn’t asked her. He’d gotten used to the silence in his house broken only by the television. Before Mikayla had moved in, he hadn’t watched it much, but he’d assumed she, as a teen, would have a variety of shows she followed. If she did, she must be watching them another way, because she spent most evenings in her room with her headphones on.

His daughter wasn’t wordy with Abby, but she was giving the Amish woman more than the yes or no answers he got.

“Are you okay?”

At Abby’s question, David flinched. He hadn’t noticed the roasts had been put into the ovens and the preparation table cleaned. Mikayla was in the other room and he hadn’t seen her leave the kitchen. He wasn’t cut out to be a parent if he couldn’t keep an eye on one teenage girl when she was standing right in front of him.

“David?” Abby prompted him.

“I think I’m done here,” he replied, knowing she couldn’t guess how he meant those trite words. He berated himself. Self-pity wouldn’t get him—or Mikayla—anywhere. Boyd must have expected David to give her a family, but after ten months, the girl was still pretty much a guest in his house.

“How much do we owe you?” Abby asked as she opened the fridge and pulled out two dozen eggs.

“Don’t worry about it.”

She set the cartons on the table. “But you provided the part as well as your time.”

“I’m glad to be able to help you. You’re doing so much for my neighbors.”

When her eyes widened and then warmed with gratitude, an answering smile tugged at his lips. He halted it. Because he wanted to do his part in helping with the flood recovery efforts didn’t mean he should toss aside a lifetime of listening to his parents’ stories about how they’d been banished by their Amish kin and friends from the only world they’d known.

Abby smiled as she wiped her hands on her black apron and he knew she had no idea what he was thinking. That was for the best. She hadn’t done anything out of line.

Yet.

“That’s kind of you, David,” she said before bending to get a deep bowl from a cupboard near the table. “Danki for sharing your knowledge and your time.”

“You’re welcome.” He couldn’t help being flustered by the brilliance of her smile and the way her face glowed with a sincerity he couldn’t doubt. Someone had told him the various Amish volunteers in town had come from different places and groups, and each of the church districts had their own unique customs. Maybe hers wasn’t like the one his parents had belonged to.

Don’t let a pretty smile persuade you to throw away your common sense, warned the most cautious portion of his mind. The part he took pains to listen to whenever possible. He’d learned the hard way disregarding its warnings could lead to trouble. It had whispered Chelsea Shipley was the wrong woman for him and he hadn’t listened…until she’d dumped him.

“Is there something we should do to make sure the freezer keeps working?” Abby asked.

“Keep the coils cleaned and clear away any layers of ice inside the chest.” He was glad to return to neutral territory where he could talk about work and not be assaulted by uncomfortable memories of what had happened fifteen years ago with Chelsea. “Don’t leave the door open. Grab what you need and close it fast.”

“Gut. Those are things we can do. Danki again, David, for coming today.”

“It would have been a shame for the donated food to go to waste.”

She laughed. “I worried, too, but realized I could have farmed out the meats to every oven in town and roasted them before they spoiled. Somehow, we would have found a way to store the meat in the refrigerators. You saved me from going door-to-door and asking to borrow an oven.”

“That would have been quite the feast.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Her smile brightened more. “We’re having a feast tonight to give thanks for how God has brought us together in Evergreen Corners. Are you and Mikayla planning to join the other teens and their parents for supper here? We’ll be eating around six thirty.”

How he wanted to believe the kindness in her expression! He could say yes without hesitation. Right now, Mikayla needed good people around her as she faced life without her father. It had to be devastating for her. It was for him because he’d lost his best friend, and the void left after the accident was greater than he could have imagined.

Before he could answer, Mikayla stated from the doorway, “I’m coming.” She didn’t put her hands on her hips as she faced him, but she might as well have.

“All right,” he replied. “I’ll come, too.”

“You don’t have to.”

He translated her words to mean “I don’t want you to.” Not that it mattered. He wasn’t going to leave her on her own with strangers.

But they weren’t strangers to Mikayla. She’d been spending lots of time volunteering. He’d agreed when she’d said she wanted to help. Last night, she’d actually spoken a few words during their supper and each had been about painting inside the new houses.

That explained why her clothing was spotted bright pink. He wondered if the paint was water soluble and would wash out. He flinched. Maybe Mikayla hadn’t changed much in the last ten months, but he had. Before, laundry hadn’t been anything he’d thought about until he ran out of clean clothes.

Satisfied he’d agreed to attend the supper, Mikayla hurried to catch up with the two boys who were already out the door.

“Hey! Where are you going?” David called, but she didn’t look at him.

Abby said, “Don’t worry. They’re headed to house sites to assist.”

“I thought she was painting today.”

“The kids pitch in wherever they’re needed. They’re a gut group of kids.” She smiled again and he felt that twitch of reaction deep within him. “Mikayla has been a true blessing for us.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“In spite of what she’s been through this past year, she’s always ready to help others. I enjoy working with her in the kitchen.” A hint of a chuckle came into her voice. “And, for a girl her age, she’s an accomplished cook. You must appreciate having her be able to put a delicious meal on the table.”

He was stumped on how to answer. He didn’t want to admit he’d never asked Mikayla to make a meal, having promised himself she must never think he considered her a burden or a servant.

Abby’s enthusiasm overwhelmed him. He wasn’t accustomed to someone being so blatant with their emotions and their opinions, and he found it disconcerting. He was glad to hear Mikayla was fitting in, but to say that might reveal how little he knew about the girl.

“Six thirty for supper?” he asked to change the subject.

“Ja, but we’ll be setting up about an hour ahead of that.”

Was that an invitation or an order? David decided it would be wiser not to ask. He told her that he and Mikayla would be back later. Not waiting for her answer, he darted out of the community center so fast he didn’t realize he’d left a screwdriver behind until he needed it at the shop he’d set up in an old garage next to his house.

He’d get it later, he told himself. For now, he had to get his thoughts sorted. He didn’t want to be drawn into the plain world and end up wounded as his parents had been.

We were chased away by closed minds and open mouths. As his father’s words rang through his head, he had to wonder—as he hadn’t before—if any of those closed minds and open mouths had been wearing a lovely smile like Abby’s.

The community center looked wunderbaar. Even her big brother, Isaac, would have to admit Abby had taken care of every detail. Outside, snow huddled in the shadowy corners beneath trees, though it was early April, and remained in ugly gray piles on the sides of the roads. Abby had been able to convince several local volunteers to share late snowdrops and bunches of crocuses, so the tables inside were brightened by small vases filled with purple and white flowers. They offered a positive sign that spring would fill yards with daffodils, forsythias and lilacs.

A half dozen women, both plain and Englisch, worked in the kitchen. They dished out the vegetables, mashed potatoes and sliced meats and breads. Jenna, who was the local librarian, carried bowls of applesauce and chowchow from the kitchen. The young woman had worked long hours to salvage materials at the library, where both the basement and ground floor had flooded. She flashed Abby a smile and a thumbs-up before turning to the refrigerator to collect more relishes to put on the tables.

The door to the street opened, allowing in cold air and an explosion of voices as teenagers and their parents arrived. Abby searched the faces. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Mikayla’s among them.

Not only Mikayla, but David Riehl had returned. Abby hadn’t been certain he would. Making sure her surprise was well hidden, she waved to the newcomers with one hand as she poured water into glasses with the other. Mikayla hung up her coat before rushing to the kitchen to help.

“No, no,” Abby said with a chuckle as she put up her arm to keep the girl from going into the kitchen. “You and the other teens are our guests of honor tonight. Let us serve you.”

“I want to help.” The girl glanced at David, who was talking to one of the other daeds. “Please.”

“Is everything all right?” Abby asked, her smile falling away.

“Everything’s as it always is.”

The girl’s tone sent a pulse of sorrow through Abby. Mikayla seldom spoke of the car accident that had left her an orphan and had never said a word about David. Yet, the teen’s grief was bubbling right beneath her too composed exterior, a volcano ready to erupt at any moment.

Abby wished she knew a way to help Mikayla to be honest with her and with her guardian. There must be some way to reach the girl.

How?

The question plagued Abby while she finished setting the tables. Her half-formed hope she could sit with the girl and David vanished when they found the last two seats at a small table with Jack and his parents. The question continued to dog her during grace, which was led by Pastor Hershey. The Mennonite minister preached at the church attached to the community center.

She ate the food that had smelled so delicious, but it had no flavor for her as ideas for helping Mikayla burst into her mind and were discarded. When the meal concluded with thick slabs of snitz pie, she was no closer to a solution.

Then everyone was leaving. She sought out David and Mikayla.

“Danki for joining us tonight,” Abby said. “I’m glad you both could come. And danki again for your help this afternoon, David. I hope you don’t have too much homework tonight, Mikayla, because you must be exhausted after helping so much this afternoon.”

“Just French and English.” The girl shrugged. “I speak both already, so they’re easy.”

Had she made a joke? If so, it was the first Abby had ever heard from her. She clamped her hands to her sides before she could fling her arms around the girl and say how delighted she was to hear humor in Mikayla’s words. Glancing at David, she saw he was astonished as she was. Before she could find the right thing to say that wouldn’t embarrass the teenager, they’d thanked her again and left.

Abby sighed. There had to be something she could do. What, God?

Knowing she must be patient because God answered prayers in His time, she turned to head into the kitchen. She was told there were enough hands to help and she’d done more than her share that day. She would have argued most days that she didn’t want to leave the cleanup to others, but she was weighted with her concern for Mikayla and David. Going home to seek God’s guidance might be the best thing she could do.

Reece held the door open for her after she’d put on her black coat and tied her black bonnet over her kapp. The teenager fell into step with her as they walked up the hill along the village green.

“My folks needed to head over the mountain to pick up my sister,” he said when Abby asked why he was walking home instead of going with his parents. “They had to slip out before dessert because her math tutor gets annoyed if they’re late picking her up.”

“There was extra pie. You could have—”

He held up a grocery bag she hadn’t noticed and grinned in the thin glow from the streetlight. “Already taken care of. Enough for them and for my sister.”

“And for you?”

“Yep.” He chuckled. “I didn’t want them to eat alone.”

“You’re a gut son.”

“It’s good pie.”

Abby laughed along with him. It’d taken some of the teens a little time to get accustomed to being around plain volunteers, but, once they’d realized the Amish weren’t going to chide them for every action or expect them to be serious every minute, they’d relaxed and treated her and the others like the rest of the adult volunteers. With respect and the assumption their elders were out of touch. She remembered feeling the same way when she’d turned thirteen and known she’d be finished with school in a little over a year.

They were a block from where she lived in an apartment over the mayor’s garage when a dark-colored car raced over the top of the hill and squealed to a stop not far from them. Reece tensed beside her as both windows on the driver’s side rolled down. Seeing several teens, at least one of them a girl, in the car, she wondered what they wanted.

“Hey, Maddox, going for an older woman now?” Laughter burst from the car. “You going to grow one of those beards to impress your Ay-mish girlfriend?” They pronounced the word with a long a. More rude laughter was followed by smacking sounds as if they were trying to kiss something as huge as an elephant.

When a teen made a comment about his sister, Reece put down the bag with the pie and took a step toward the car.

Abby grabbed his arm, halting him. She hid her grip from the kids who rained taunts on him. They mustn’t guess she was keeping him from stepping into their snare. There were at least four kids in the vehicle and they’d let Reece take the first swing before they pummeled him.

“Danki for your comments,” she said as she picked up the bag and handed it to Reece.

He looked from it to her, but she said nothing. Instead she continued along the steep sidewalk at a slow pace that would look as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As she passed the car, the teens exchanged glances as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Gut! Giving them pause might allow them time to realize they were acting like dummkopfs.

Suddenly the car peeled out as another vehicle came up the hill. She guessed they didn’t want to be seen. They went down the street too fast and skidded with a squeal around the corner.

Beside her, Reece let out his breath in a sigh. She patted his arm in silent commiseration, but tensed when the red truck came to a stop beside them. What now?

She got the answer when the driver stepped out and called, “Were those kids bothering you?” David’s voice was laced with anger.

“We’re fine.” Abby pointed at the bag Reece carried. “The pie is fine.”

“Abby?” Both David and Mikayla, who’d stepped out of the passenger’s side, gasped her name at the same time.

Mikayla rushed to Reece, who was shaking with residual emotion. He nodded to her, but spoke to Abby. “I thought I’d make sure you got home okay.” He knocked his work boot against the pile of refrozen snow mixed with last fall’s leaves. “I didn’t think I’d have you saving the day for me.”

“Will that cause more trouble for you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing can cause more trouble for us with those guys and their girls. They’re bullies, and they harass everyone.”

“Everyone?” David joined them on the sidewalk.

Reece faltered, then said, “Yeah, everyone.”

“And nobody does anything about it?”

“We ignore them. The Bible says not to speak evil of someone else, so we’re trying to ignore their words. We know they aren’t true.” He glanced at Abby. “At least, we try to ignore them.”

“And you’re doing a gut job.” She patted his arm. “You’d better get that pie home before your family wonders if we’ve kept you washing dishes.”

He nodded and headed up the street with Mikayla matching his steps. The two teens spoke softly, so Abby couldn’t guess what they were saying.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” David asked as he watched the two kids moving together from shadow to lamplight.

“I’m fine, and Reece will be. He knows well-aimed cruel words can hurt, but they’re words spoken by people he doesn’t respect.”

“Bullies start with words, Abby. When those don’t get them what they want, they turn to other means.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to urge the kids to stick together.” She hesitated and then asked, “Would you drive Reece home? I don’t like to think of those other kids finding him by himself.”

“No need. His house is there.” He pointed to the top of the hill. “I’ll wait and make sure he gets home. I’ll give them a few minutes. Then I’ll pick up Mikayla.”

“That’s a gut idea. I think Reece needs someone his own age to talk to right now.”

“You’ve got real insight into these kids, don’t you?”

“I try. If you see something else I can do better, let me know.”

“I will,” he replied, but he didn’t look at her.

She fought not to frown. David had avoided her eyes several times this afternoon. Now he was doing the same. What was he trying to hide? His life had been turned inside out by becoming the daed to a teenager. Maybe both he and Mikayla needed guidance to ease into their new lives.

She would be glad to help. But how? She hoped God would show her the way.

Chapter Three

“Abby, are you here?”

Looking up from the menu she was preparing for the coming week, Abby glanced at the clock in the community center kitchen. It was nearly 10:00 a.m. Where had the morning gone?

She smiled as Beth Ann Overholt walked into the kitchen. The dark-haired midwife volunteered when she could in Evergreen Corners. With her practice in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, she had to find times—two weeks each visit—to help with the rebuilding. She was much taller than Abby and wore a brace on her right leg. Like Abby, she dressed plainly, but her kapp was pleated as befitted her life as a Mennonite.

For a moment, Abby considered asking Beth Ann’s advice on how to help David and Mikayla. She’d been pondering the question for the past week and didn’t have an answer. She guessed that because most of Beth Ann’s interactions were at births, she wouldn’t have much more insight than Abby did into teenagers.

“I’m right where I always am at this time of day,” Abby replied as she motioned for her friend to come over to the table. “Getting ready for the midday meal and trying to come up with menus based on what we’ve got in the freezer. It looks as if we’ll be having venison burgers a lot in the near future.”

“All right by me.”

“You’ll eat anything put in front of you.”

“Hard work makes a girl hungry.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Abby laughed as she put down the paper and pencil. “A cup of kaffi?”

“Yes, but I’ll have to take it to go. We’re supposed to finish the painting at the McGoverns’ house today.”

“Then let me get you enough cups for the whole crew. How many?”

“Five. Do you have disposable cups?”

“Thanks to the generosity of Spezio’s market, we do.” The grocery store, situated at the edge of town, had been cut off from many residents for more than three months. Everyone had been pleased when that route out of Evergreen Corners had been opened to traffic again. “I don’t know what we’d do if they didn’t keep us supplied with paper goods.”