Starting from Scratch Read online

  “I hope you don’t mind that I ordered this,” Sadie said after thanking the deliveryman.

  “Quite the contrary. I appreciate your help.” When we had a lull with customers, I used the time to call Olivia’s phone shanty and left a message asking if she could deliver pastries and muffins tomorrow. I hoped she’d get back to me before three.

  “So do ya think you’ll go with Mark?” Sadie opened the refrigerator door.

  “Unlikely, although I do want to attend church. I haven’t been to a singing for years and have no intention of starting now.”

  “Ya don’t like to sing?”

  “I used to, many years ago.” I was tempted to tell her how surprised I was at Mark’s attention, but I didn’t want to make her sad. She obviously had a crush on him. The words unrequited love floated in the back of my mind. I could relate.

  “Mark has never offered to take me anywhere.” She tossed in several bunches of carrots.

  “He might. You’re pretty and smart.” And she did not strike me as a woman who would allow herself to become an old maid as I had. Perhaps I should have entertained attention from that older widower last year, but he was unappealing and had ten unruly children. “If not Mark, I have no doubt some other lucky fellow will court you.”

  “I’m almost eighteen.”

  “Plenty of time to find the right husband.”

  “Why did you never marry?”

  I was hoping to avoid answering that question. “I wanted to… Have you never heard?”

  “Only what Beatrice mentioned, that your sweetheart moved to New York years ago and was last seen wearing a beard.”

  “What?” Her words stunned me as if she’d slapped me in the face. If Jake wore a beard, he was married. Only married Amish men wore beards. “Are you sure?”

  “That’s what Beatrice said, but I don’t know if it’s true. Sometimes she gets her facts mixed up.” Her brows knit. “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing.”

  I tried to appear confident as my mind churned with shards of uncertainty. I wondered what other bits of gossip Beatrice had sprinkled. “Nothing more?” I asked.

  “Only that you worked in the fabric shop and lived with your parents until yesterday.” She glanced through the kitchen doorway to the front door as an Englisch couple entered.

  The phone in the kitchen jangled. “I’ll get it.” I hustled to answer and heard Olivia’s vivacious voice.

  “How’s everything going, dear cousin?”

  “If you’re calling to tell me you’re bringing baked goods in the morning, then I’ll tell you I’ve had a wunderbaar day.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m calling, Evie. The roads are clear, and I’ve been baking all afternoon.”

  “Gut. That’s a relief.”

  “Is everything okay? You sound naerfich.”

  “I’m not nervous.” The words shot out of my mouth too quickly. “Sorry, Liv. I guess I am a little stressed.”

  “It’s your first day at a new job. Of course that would be stressful.”

  I didn’t want to bring up Jake’s name. And I decided to let go of Olivia’s neglecting to tell me this was a café job. It didn’t matter now. “I have a few questions for you about the kitchen here.”

  “You should be fine with that nice generator and Sadie and Jennifer to help you.”

  “Jennifer didn’t make it in today. And she gave me notice, so we’ll need to hire someone else. Do you know of anyone looking for a job? Beatrice stepped in.”

  “That must have been helpful.” She chuckled. “Not the sweetest woman in nature, but capable and a hard worker.”

  “Yah, she’s been a tremendous help.” And I hadn’t properly thanked her. I was still reeling from her disclosure to Sadie that Jake might be a married man. “Have you heard any more about Amos?”

  “Ach, nee. What a terrible injury. From what I understand, if coma victims wake up, it’s not the way it’s portrayed in the movies. Recovery is a slow process. They might have to learn to speak and walk again. They may lose chunks of memory.”

  “Liv, you go to the movies?”

  “Er…just a few times. But please don’t tell anyone. Ach, my parents would kill me.” She was six years younger than I was and in her rumspringa, her time for experimenting with the Englisch world. But I knew her parents were strict.

  “Mamm took the Millers a casserole,” she said, “and neighbors are setting aside their differences with Amos and helping out in the fields. You know how ornery Jake’s dat is, but neighbors are keeping their farm going until Jake gets home. Jake’s two schweschders are married now and live on dairy farms in Ohio with their husbands and children. They rushed home by train to see their dat in the trauma unit, but since he was in a coma, they got no response. They stuck around for a few days but then returned to Ohio. Their husbands wouldn’t leave their herds to see a man who was sleeping. I don’t think they ever got along with Amos, and vice versa.”

  “Liv, Beatrice said Jake was last seen wearing a beard.” My voice came out as if I were being strangled.

  “So I hear. That’s why I suggested you don’t go see him. Please tell me you’re not still pining over him. It’s time to move on. You have a new job, a new life, and ample opportunity to meet a new man.”

  “Someone here does seem interested, but he’s so young.”

  She guffawed. “Still a teenager?”

  “Nee, but about five years younger than I am. His name is Mark. But—”

  “Mark’s a good guy. Honestly, Evie, how long are you going to cling to a dream that will never come true? Especially if Jake is married.” A woman’s voice spoke Deitsch in the background. “I have to run. Our neighbor wants to use the phone. Expect to see my whoopie pies in the morning.”

  “I wish you could deliver them in person so I could see you.”

  “I may be in rumspringa, but my mamm does everything she can to keep me in the house. That’s why she insisted I leave my job at the café. She’s afraid I’ll run off with—well, never mind. I was ready for a change anyway.”

  “I wished I’d run away with Jake those many years ago.”

  “Now you’re talking foolishness.”

  “Yah, I am. Because he never asked me to go with him.”

  By closing time, I was mentally and physically exhausted. My feet felt like cement blocks—as if each of them had grown two sizes. Maybe I should wear sneakers like Sadie did instead of my black-laced leather shoes. She waltzed around effortlessly and with good cheer, but then she was also more than ten years younger than I was.

  She and I swiped the tables clean and put away the washed dishes so we’d start afresh in the morning. I asked her if she had a friend looking for a job. “When the owners come home, Beatrice will no longer be available to work in the café.”

  “Fine with me,” Sadie said.

  “She was a godsend today.” I needed to stop by to thank her on my way to the cabin.

  When I stepped into the fresh air, I was greeted with a myriad of earthy aromas. The sky was gray, but birds twittered. A few customers wandered past the greenhouses on their way out of the nursery. I saw the owners’ two Labrador retrievers flouncing toward me, so I stepped inside a greenhouse and closed the glass sliding door behind me.

  “How did your first day ago?” Stephen leaned on a shovel’s handle.

  “Perfect.” A slight exaggeration.

  “I hope you’re planning to stay with us.”

  “Yah, absolutely.”

  “Tired?”

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. And my feet…” I glanced down at my shoes and noticed a scuff on one toe. I’d stood on my feet all day at the fabric store, but the floor had been carpeted, not painted cement.

  “Want me to drive you to the mall to buy a pair of comfy shoes?” He let go of the shovel and moved closer.

  I imagined Beatrice’s evil eye as I got into Stephen’s car. “Thanks for your kind offer, but I’d better take a bus to town. I’d adore a pa
ir like Sadie wears if they’re allowed at work.”

  “Sure. Wear whatever is most comfortable as long as it isn’t toeless. I’d be glad to take you there right now. I was about to run out to purchase supplies at the hardware store. It’s no trouble to take you by the outlet mall.”

  “I couldn’t bother you.” Yet my feet throbbed.

  “No trouble, but I need to leave in the next thirty minutes.” He checked his watch. “Does that give you enough time?”

  Of course, I was not wearing a wristwatch. “Yah. I’ll get my purse.”

  He must have understood my reticence about the dogs milling outside because he said, “I’ll take those mutts with me and meet you in the parking lot. I drive a white pickup.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” I stepped outside to find the sky darkening. No glorious sunset tonight. As I hurried to the cabin, I noticed Beatrice weeding the herb garden. In another month, basil, sage, rosemary, and lavender would swell in the afternoon sunshine, but today the air hung heavily as if the clouds would open up again. I decided to take my rain jacket.

  Beatrice glanced up at me. I strode over to her and said, “Thank you for helping in the café today.”

  “I didn’t do it for you.”

  “I appreciate your hard work in any case. And your soup was appeditlich, much better than mine would’ve been.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted on one side as if she were holding in a grin. “I suppose you’ll want me to make soup again tomorrow.”

  “I think I’m all set, thank you. But I truly appreciate your willingness to share your culinary skills with me. You are a much finer cook than I am.”

  Finally, her face softened, but she turned away and got back to weeding. I dashed into the cabin, checked myself in the mirror, and tucked stray hairs under my kapp. I grabbed my jacket and purse and headed back out the door.

  I found Stephen standing by his pickup speaking to Mark, who stared when he saw me.

  “You need a ride somewhere?” Mark asked. “I can take you in my buggy anywhere you wish to go.”

  “I don’t think I have time today, but denki.” I hoped I hadn’t hurt his feelings by accepting Stephen’s offer, but I expected this to be a quick trip, and I wanted to be home before nightfall.

  Stephen opened the passenger door. I climbed in and he shut it behind me, and then he rounded the vehicle to his side.

  “Is the electricity back on?” I asked.

  “Yes. Finally. But the weatherman predicts another storm tonight.” He started the engine and then looked over at me. “Are you uncomfortable being alone with me? Maybe we should invite Beatrice.”

  “No, I’m fine.” Then why were my hands clammy?

  “I often take Amish employees to help me pick up merchandise, although they are usually male.” He sent me a reassuring smile. “Would you please buckle your seat belt?”

  “Ach, sorry. I’m not used to riding in a pickup. We sure are up high. I’ve never even sat in the front seat of a car. Just in the back of passenger vans.” I craned my head, but I couldn’t locate the seat belt clip.

  “Allow me.” Stephen slipped his hand behind my shoulder and found the culprit, and then he tugged the belt across the front of me and attached it with a metallic click. I could imagine Mark standing outside, watching this maneuver, and I felt my face flush. My parents wouldn’t have approved either. But this was not a social outing. And my feet ached.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Stephen backed up and then nosed his pickup out of the parking lot onto the road. We passed several buggies, but fortunately I didn’t recognize neighbors or acquaintances—until we came upon a bishop’s buggy with its usual open front. The bishop—a bearded man I didn’t recognize—seemed to be busy speaking to a young woman and didn’t look our way.

  I craned my neck in the other direction. “I can’t believe how many new buildings have been built along the highway.”

  “Yeah, the whole area is expanding with housing developments, shopping malls, and car lots. I guess they call that progress.”

  When he took a right and we entered the mall, I saw a plethora of fancy storefronts. Stephen stopped in front of the Nike outlet.

  “Several shoe stores are near here, but this one’s popular.” He set the parking brake. “What did you have in mind again?”

  “Something like what Sadie wears. Lace-up and cushioned soles. If you’re sure Glenn won’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I might come in and look around for something myself.” He jumped out of the pickup as I unclipped my seat belt. In a moment he’d rounded the vehicle and opened my door, I assumed to get this trip over with so he could dash to the hardware store.

  Stephen browsed through the showroom for a few minutes and selected a pair of flip-flops he called sliders. “The price is right,” he said. “Eventually, summer will be here again.”

  On the other hand, I tried on several styles of walking or running shoes and became the new owner of my first pair of running shoes that made my feet feel as if they were treading on cushions of air. “You should buy some white socks to go with them,” Stephen told me.

  “I’ve never worn white socks in my life. Are you sure?”

  Both Stephen and the shoe salesman nodded.

  “But if you feel uncomfortable not wearing black socks, I don’t want to be a bad influence,” Stephen said.

  I paid for the shoes and two pairs of soft white socks with cash. I could afford the purchase, but I felt a smidgen of guilt for buying such fancy footwear.

  Five minutes later, Stephen motored us back onto the road and then swerved off and trotted into a hardware store while I stayed in the pickup. As I sat waiting, I second-guessed my purchases. Several buggies stood at a hitching post. I slumped low in my seat and hoped no one I knew would notice me.

  Back behind the steering wheel ten minutes later, Stephen turned on the radio as a newsman was announcing an approaching storm, expected to be worse than the previous night’s. Droplets landed on the windshield.

  “Oh, great. I’d better hurry.” He sped back onto the highway just as a buggy was entering. A truck barreling toward us from the other direction honked long and hard. The horse reared and then took off, galloping too close to the side of the road. Its driver was unable to control the animal, and the buggy’s right front wheel slid off the road.

  I covered my mouth with my hands as I watched the buggy gain momentum and then bump to the bottom of an embankment, where it tipped on its side.

  Stephen slammed on the brakes and veered onto a gravel patch. “Stay here.”

  He leaped out and loped down to where the horse was kicking and thrashing to get up. In a flurry, an Amish man and woman climbed out of the buggy. With Stephen’s help, they unhitched the horse, and the animal struggled to its feet.

  I couldn’t sit there, watch, and do nothing. As I shouldered open the door and got out, two cars and several buggies pulled to the side of the road, their male drivers scrambling down the hill. Eight men, both Amish and Englisch, stood the buggy upright, but a wheel was broken and the horse limped.

  A police car lurched to a stop, and a burly officer who looked to be in his late thirties got out. “What happened, miss?”

  I didn’t dare say a word. I had every confidence Stephen would set things right, but I’d been wrongly accused in the past. An aid car’s siren wailed, followed by another squad car, which screeched to a halt on the other side of the road. Two medics trotted over to us.

  “Anyone injured, Wayne?” one medic asked.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” the officer said. The medics picked their way down the hill and spoke to the Amish couple and Stephen. The Amish driver slapped his straw hat against his thigh and then set it on his head. Her neck bent, his wife stood looking at the horse.

  A crowd gathered around me and then another policeman. A light flashed as an Englischer wearing a baseball cap took my picture with the officer.

  “This is great,” another Englisch fellow said
. “I’m from LNP Always Lancaster, writing an article on buggy and car accidents for the paper.” The reporter and photographer jogged down the hill. I wanted to scramble after them to beg them not to use my picture in the newspaper, but I feared the photographer might take another.

  “Miss, were you in the pickup during the accident?” the policeman named Wayne asked.

  “Yes, but I wasn’t driving.”

  He chortled as he scanned my Amish attire. “I didn’t think you were. But can you tell me what happened?”

  “I wasn’t paying much attention, only listening to the radio. I heard a truck honk, and then I saw the buggy swerving off the side of the road.”

  “Is that Stephen Troyer from Yoder’s Nursery down there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know him well.” He peered into my face. “Had he been drinking?”

  “No. We’ve both been at work all day and then shopping.”

  “You work at the nursery too?”

  “Yes. Just started today.”

  The officer picked his way down the hill and spoke to Stephen, the buggy’s owner, and his wife. The couple seemed unscathed. I was aching to go down to help, but I worried I’d further complicate the situation.

  The second officer followed him down the ravine, and then Wayne returned. “Looks like I’m giving you a ride home, miss. Stephen asked me to since he’ll be here for a while.” He must have noticed my jaw drop because he added, “I’m Officer Wayne Grady. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you, and I know where the nursery is. Stephen said you live in the small cabin on the property.”

  “Yes, I do, but I don’t want to trouble you.” I scanned the buggies and saw women and children climbing in as the downpour increased. No one I recognized.

  “I’m headed that way anyway, miss.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I waved at Stephen, but he was busy helping the Amish driver remove the buggy’s wheel, I assumed to take it to be repaired. Stephen would need his pickup for that job and his passenger seat for the Amish couple. I’d be nothing but in the way. I reached into his pickup and grabbed my purse and my bag from the outlet mall.