Starting from Scratch Page 5

  Outside, tree branches, twigs, and leaves lay strewn about as if they’d been swept in by a tide. Planted pots were tipped over, their flowers littering the ground. One of the chairs on the house’s back porch lay on its side.

  Minnie was nowhere to be seen. I assumed Beatrice had let her into the house. One of the huge Labrador retrievers galumphed toward me as I made my way to the café. I assured myself I had nothing to be afraid of and kept going, not allowing myself to succumb to my fears. After last night, I should be able to stand up to anything. But deep inside I was still nervous as I scurried to my new job. I’d heard dogs could smell fear. I must reek of it.

  I brought out my keys, but the café’s front door was unlocked. Glancing through the glass wall, I saw light in the kitchen. Someone had beat me here. Or maybe Stephen had unlocked the door as a favor.

  As I stepped inside, my nostrils caught the hint of split pea soup and a trace of smoked ham. I hurried to the kitchen and saw Beatrice’s rounded back as she stirred the metal vat I’d set out the day before to soak the peas.

  She adjusted the heat, reducing it, and placed a lid atop the vat. She wore a white chef’s apron cinched around her ample waist, a patterned blouse—green with small yellow flowers—and again a calf-length black skirt. Both the blouse and skirt were nice enough to wear to an Englisch church service.

  “What are you doing here?” My words charged out with an acerbic flair that was unwarranted. I’d wanted to prepare the soup. “Why are you cooking?”

  She peered over her plump shoulder. “Stephen told me I should come in and help when needed. And, apparently, I am needed today.”

  I looked up at the wall clock and saw it was seven thirty. “We don’t open until nine.”

  “Never too early to start soup.” Beatrice pivoted toward me. “I couldn’t fall back to sleep once I’d awakened. Not in the big house all alone without the Yoders.”

  I stepped around her and peered into the vat. Diced carrots, onions, and potatoes floated on the surface. “You put in carrots and potatoes?”

  “Yes, I always do. Carrots sweeten the soup, and potatoes thicken it. Plus, I added a few herbs and that nice smoked ham bone.”

  “Which herbs?”

  “It’s my mama’s secret recipe, so I mustn’t divulge the exact ingredients.”

  “But this café is open to the public. Someone could have a food allergy.” I doubted my declaration, but she owed me an explanation. Not only that, but she hadn’t cleaned up her mess. The knife and cutting board needed a thorough washing, and carrot tops and other debris needed to be tossed into the garbage. She must have noticed my looking over the disarray because she said, “I didn’t know where to put the carrot and potato peelings. I assume they’re saved for a pig farmer or put into compost.”

  She was probably right, but I didn’t have the answers. So much to learn. “I’ll ask Stephen.”

  “He may not come into the café all morning. Such a mess outside. He and his men will be busy readying the nursery for business. Plus, there’s still no electricity in the retail shop. Looks like receipts will have to be written out the old-fashioned way.” One corner of her mouth lifted. “The alte ways are often the best, as the Amish say.”

  The fact she spoke a bit of Pennsylvania Dutch irked me for no good reason. “I’m glad for the generator, or the refrigerator would have shut off.” I heard its steady pumping.

  “Yes, the food would go bad in no time.”

  I was tempted to take a taste of the soup, but no steam rose from its surface. It hadn’t heated thoroughly, nor were the vegetables cooked. Not a fair assessment.

  She sprinkled salt into the soup. “Don’t worry, Eva. It’ll be the best pea soup you ever ate.” She gave me a quirky wink that seemed out of character.

  “I look forward to sampling it.” I figured I could learn a lot from her and scolded myself to remain humble. I’d been taught to respect my elders. But I wasn’t used to being talked down to as if I were a child. I guessed some of her better-than-thou attitude came from knowing about my former relationship with Jake. As his mother’s neighbor and friend, she had no doubt been privy to his antics. Plus a few tall tales.

  She cleared her voice. “Well? Will I receive no show of gratitude?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Thank you very much.” I tried to compose an expression of appreciation on my face with a smile.

  “Those other two young girls can tidy this area. I’ve seen them standing around with nothing to do. Idle hands are the devil’s plaything.” She lowered the flame on the stove top again. “Don’t let this soup burn. Nothing is worse than burned pea soup.” She glanced at me. “What soup are you making tomorrow?”

  “I’d planned on vegetable barley, but I don’t know yet.”

  “You’d better make sure you have all the ingredients. Did you order barley? Food doesn’t magically pop out of nowhere. But you could check the cupboards and freezer. You might get lucky if Olivia stocked it with broth and meats.”

  “Wonderful.” I opened the freezer and was glad to see a bundle in white butcher paper marked stewing meat, which I set in the refrigerator to thaw.

  “Place an order today for more,” she said, “but don’t expect it until late afternoon or tomorrow. After that fierce storm last night, the warehouse might be running behind.”

  The back door to the kitchen opened, and a deliveryman carted in loaves of wheat and white bread. Sporting a mustache, the fellow was obviously Englisch, in his late fifties. He smiled at me as I moved toward him. “Are you the new manager?”

  “Yes, I’m Eva Lapp.”

  “I’m Scott McCann. Nice to see a pretty new face here.”

  I squirmed inside, hearing those words with Beatrice’s ears. He had yet to acknowledge her. Or maybe he’d met her in the past and found her unwelcoming.

  “That was quite a storm last night.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I’m glad we didn’t lose electricity at the bakery.”

  “We’ll be fine at the café with our gas stove and generator,” Beatrice said.

  The phone rang, making me start. I reached for it before Beatrice could. “Yoder’s Nursery Café.”

  Olivia’s sparkling voice came out of the receiver. She must be calling from her phone shanty. “I haven’t cooked, and my bruder wouldn’t be able to deliver the baked goods today anyway. A tree fell across the road. Sorry. I hope you have enough left from yesterday to see you through.”

  “Yah, we’ll be fine. Day-old whoopie pies and cookies at a discount. Our refrigerated case is still cold.”

  “When you come over someday, I’ll give you baking lessons. Or I’ll come there.”

  “That’s kind of you, but as long as you’re willing to bake for us, please continue.”

  “But not today. Last night one of my dat’s sheds blew over. He’s out there with a team of horses pulling it upright. I haven’t had time to bake. My mamm said, ‘All things work together for good to them that love God.’ Her answer for everything.”

  I’d certainly heard that verse a few times growing up, and I wished it were true. So far, all things were not working for good. Maybe I didn’t love the Lord as I should because my prayers had not been answered.

  “Evie, I have some news for you.” Olivia’s voice rose. “If you still care—and I know you do—I heard Jake’s coming back to his parents’ home tomorrow. His dat got kicked in the forehead by a mule last week. He’s been in the trauma unit at the hospital in Lancaster and is in a coma. The doctors don’t know if he’ll ever wake up, but he’s breathing on his own. For how long, they don’t know. He’s lucky to be alive, they said. Neighbors are pitching in to help Jake’s mamm.”

  I wondered why Mamm and Beatrice hadn’t mentioned this fact. They had to know. Maybe they didn’t want me to be privy to the information.

  “I suggest you don’t stop by to see Jake at his parents’,” Olivia said.

  “Oh?” Because Beatrice and Scott were within earshot, I couldn’t inquire fu
rther or speak what was on my mind. I also decided not to ask Olivia why she didn’t tell me I was replacing her at this managerial job until I could do so in private. “No time. I’ll be busy all day.” My words came out in a whisper. “Anyone wanting to see me can find out where I am.” But Jake obviously didn’t care, a hideous truth that could make my world stop revolving. “I’ve got to get back to work. Please let me know about tomorrow, Liv. If we don’t have your baked goodies, we might lose all our customers.”

  “Nee, you can always bake more.”

  “Ach, I don’t think so.” She had more faith in my culinary skills than I did. I’d been shortsighted and naive to figure I’d learn when I got married.

  After saying goodbye, I clunked the phone receiver back into its cradle. While I’d been chatting with my cousin, Scott had filled the metal rack with loaves, including whole wheat, white, and rye.

  Beatrice brought out a long-handled ladle. “I’ll keep an eye on the soup while you make coffee, Eva.”

  “Okay.” I was glad for the help, even if she was bossing me around.

  “Goodbye and thanks.” I lifted a hand to Scott as he exited.

  “See you tomorrow, Eva.” I listened to the back door shutting and his truck whisk away.

  SEVEN

  Good morning.” Stephen strode into the café at nine and set several newspapers on one of the front tables. Then he pulled a reader board out onto the walkway with the word Open written across its surface and returned. “How are things going?”

  “Fine,” Beatrice answered before I could speak.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Bea. Jennifer just called to say she can’t make it because their road is blocked. This was to be her last day anyway.”

  Beatrice puckered her face. “These young folks are so unreliable.”

  “The roads are a mess.” He sent me a crooked smile. “Sadie called to say she’ll be here as quickly as she can make it on her scooter. She’ll probably be about an hour late.”

  A middle-aged Englisch couple trudged in. “We were hoping you’d have coffee,” the tallish woman said as she neared the carafe. “No electricity on our block or maybe for miles.”

  I brought out two mugs and then hurried to the refrigerator to fetch the half-and-half, already in a pitcher. The woman seemed to know the drill and served herself coffee, plus another mug full for her husband, who’d already sunk into a chair and opened a newspaper.

  The woman pointed at the glass-enclosed case. “How about a couple of those corn muffins and some butter?”

  “Certainly, but I must warn you they’re a day old.”

  “That’s fine as long as the coffee is fresh.”

  “It’s nice and hot.” I scooted around behind the case and placed two muffins on plates, along with pats of butter. “Please take a napkin and a knife while I ring you up.”

  My first transaction of the morning had gone smoothly, but I looked up to see more Englischers entering. “Don’t worry, Eva. Beatrice will help you until Sadie arrives,” Stephen said.

  “Sure, if you need me.” Beatrice seemed tickled. “I’m glad I fed the dogs first thing. I’ll let them out so they don’t mess the house and then come right back.” Beatrice followed Stephen out the door.

  My, he was an attractive man and two years older than I was. A shame he wasn’t Amish. Would I leave the Amish church if I fell in love with an Englisch man? No, I wouldn’t break my parents’ hearts the way Jake had broken his. At least I didn’t think I would.

  I’d often wondered if Jake had jumped the fence into the Englisch world. I’d have to see him to know. Or perhaps it was better if I never set eyes on him again—especially if he was married and had children. Olivia must have thought he was married to suggest I not go see him.

  His poor parents. I felt the weight of sadness in my chest as I thought about his father’s injury. His dat was a rigid, standoffish man, although maybe he’d have mellowed if he ever woke up again. No matter his personality, no one deserved a paralyzing injury. I wondered why God allowed such tragedies. For the same reason he let me remain single and lonely all these years?

  “See, I told ya’ll,” a plump woman with fringes on her suede jacket’s sleeves said to her two Englisch friends. “The Amish don’t need electricity to make things work.”

  Rather than explain we were working our cash register off a generator, I smiled at the three women as they strolled to the side of the case filled with pastries. The generator was not connected to the electric grid that expanded across the world like a spider’s cobweb, thus earning the bishops’ approval.

  I served the women tea and muffins. They were pleasant until one brought out her smartphone. “May I take your photo?”

  “Nee.” I put out my hand to block my face. “Please, it’s forbidden.”

  “Oops, too late.” Grinning, her face crinkled. “Never mind, honey. I won’t show it to anyone.” She held up the phone again and I spun away, retreating into the kitchen just as Sadie arrived through the back door. Her face was flushed, I assumed from the arduous trek on her scooter.

  “One of those women took my picture.” I grimaced. “This type of behavior seldom happened in the fabric store.”

  “We need to put up a sign saying no photos allowed.” Sadie was ten years my junior but obviously wiser in other ways. “I’ll ask Mark to make one when he comes in for his morning kaffi.”

  Ah, she was wiser in the ways of men too. No wonder she’d hurried to get to work so quickly despite roads littered with branches.

  “Susie’s bruder?” I asked.

  “Yah.” Her eyes brightened.

  A steady stream of people came in, mostly Englisch, who were delighted to find we had warm food. By noon, we had served the soup, which was tasty. Customers raved about it, and Beatrice beamed, but she did not claim she’d prepared it. She was helpful taking food to the tables, but not clearing them. Fortunately, most of the customers brought their used plates and bowls to a plastic tub—or Sadie did, and then she swabbed clean the tables’ surfaces. Any tips left were dropped into a jar near the register. Most were coins, but I noticed a few dollar bills, which I assumed would be given to Sadie.

  During a lull I served myself a cup of soup and stepped into the kitchen. Beatrice had indeed produced a delicious meal, better than mine would have been. I doubted she would ever reveal her secret ingredients, but I could ask.

  Sadie stood at the washbasin, vigorously scrubbing the dirty dishes, rinsing them, and then setting them in the dishwasher or drying rack. I asked her if she wanted a break, but she shook her head. I figured she was still waiting for Mark, who had not arrived for his morning coffee.

  “You step outside for a few minutes before Beatrice leaves,” she said.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

  “Yah, I can work the cash register. Well, gut enough.”

  “I was just on my way out.” Beatrice untied and removed her apron. “If you two can’t handle the café without me, let me know and I’ll come back. But I have plenty to keep me busy in the main house.” There went my chance for a short stroll and an opportunity to ask Beatrice about her soup recipe. Which reminded me I needed to make sure I had the ingredients for tomorrow’s soup, plus hand in my order for vegetables and meats, not to mention fresh milk, butter, and other staples.

  As Beatrice marched toward the door, Mark strode in and held it open for her. Sadie bustled over to pour him coffee. He thanked her and then turned to me. “How ya doing, Eva?”

  Sadie stood at his elbow, but he didn’t seem to notice her. Only me. His gaze honed in on my face, and his intense expression conveyed appreciation. He found me attractive?

  “I was wondering if you’ll start attending this church district on Sunday.” He sipped his coffee. “I’d be honored to drive you there and later to our singing.”

  I glanced at Sadie and saw her demeanor slump. She pressed her lips together and hung her head.

  “I hadn’t given it much thought.
” Not true. I’d pondered the upcoming Sunday, a nonpreaching Sunday in my parents’ district. It was a family time of socializing and visiting neighbors, who would probably riddle me with questions about my new job and maybe tell me about Jake’s reappearance—if Olivia was right that he was coming.

  “Let me know and I’ll pick you up.” Mark polished off his coffee. “I’m happy to drive you there or anywhere. If you haven’t heard about my standardbred, I think you’ll be pleased. Not that I should brag.”

  I pictured him washing and polishing his buggy to transport me for nothing. Mark was probably five years my junior and couldn’t possibly choose me over Sadie. I almost suggested he take her, but I didn’t wish to embarrass either one of them.

  “I haven’t gone to a singing for years,” I said.

  “I’d be happy to escort you. Plus, it’s a gut way to meet your new neighbors. You are planning to stick around, aren’t you?”

  “Yah, if I can. When the owner comes back, I assume he’ll have the final say.”

  Mark’s eyes never left mine. “Let me know about Sunday. Service will be in Willie Fisher’s barn several miles away.”

  He handed the empty mug to Sadie. Her face was solemn.

  “I’d best get back to work.” He pivoted toward the door, away from her. “We still have quite a mess to clean up, including half the parking lot.”

  EIGHT

  The day seemed to flitter by, what with all the customers, plus a produce delivery I was most happy to see. Fresh vegetables, fruit, and meat. I noticed we were running low on roast beef and ham.