A Courtship for the Amish Spinster, page 13
“Well, now that you’re getting in touch with your feelings, maybe you can figure it out.”
At that point, Josh streaked through the kitchen wearing only a bath towel. Zeb was actually relieved to be interrupted. Samuel left to meet one of his friends, and Zeb spent the next hour with his son. They stored the bath toys. Straightened his bedroom. Played a game of cards—Go Fish, which had been Josh’s favorite game for the last few months. Finally, they shared a before-bedtime snack of milk and freshly baked cookies.
“Becca’s a gut cook.”
“That she is,” Zeb agreed. He remembered sitting on the porch, just a few nights earlier, unable to taste the cookies he was eating. Those cookies had also been from Becca, so it wasn’t that one batch was from a gut cook and one from a bad. Nope. He was the one who had changed.
The cookies were peanut butter. They were sweet and crispy. Just like Suzanne made. He let that thought wash over him, closed his eyes, focused on breathing in and out.
“What?” Josh asked.
Zeb opened his eyes. Josh looked worried. He even put his cookie back on the plate—half-eaten. Zeb was learning that his son missed very little. The counselor had suggested he start being more honest with his son.
“I was just thinking about your mamm.”
“You were?”
“She was a gut cook too.”
“I don’t remember that.” Josh frowned, then picked up his cookie and took another bite. Staring at the portion that was left in his hand, he cocked his head, then said, “I’ll bet you miss that.”
“Yup. I do.”
Josh finished the cookie, wiped his fingertips on a napkin, then set the napkin down next to the glass that still held a couple inches of milk. He did each thing very carefully, as if he were trying not to knock something over. Trying not to mess this up. His five-year-old son stood in front of Zeb, who was sitting on the couch. Putting both of his small hands on Zeb’s shoulders, he said, “Becca tells us to hug it out.”
“Who is us?”
“Me and Mary. When we fuss over something.”
“You and Mary fuss?”
“It’s no big deal, Dat. People disagree. Or sometimes one person is sad because they had a terrible breakfast or broke their favorite toy. Anyway, Becca says when you hug it out, everything is better.” And then Josh leaned forward, attempted to circle his arms around Zeb’s shoulders and squeezed, even giving it an “mmm-hmm” before letting go.
Stepping back, he asked, “Better?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Wanna play one more game of cards?”
“Okay, but just one.”
“Don’t get sad if you lose again.”
“You think you can beat me twice?”
Josh’s answer was laughter as he began counting out cards for each of them. That sound, that laughter, was enough to make Zeb’s day one that he would put in the plus column. Maybe the first such day in a very long time. After Josh was tucked into bed, he sat out on the porch. Allowed himself to simply rock. Listened to the night sounds. Relaxed.
And wondered if there was any chance Samuel was right about Eunice. He didn’t think so, but then what did he know? He’d become a master of misdirection—even to himself. Did he care for Eunice in a romantic way? And if he did, was he willing to follow those feelings and see where they led?
* * *
Eunice went on the date with Lester Friday evening, so of course when she returned from working at the knit shop on Saturday afternoon, her oldest schweschder, Sarah, was in the kitchen.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Eunice said, dropping down into one of the kitchen chairs.
“Oh, I just had a few casseroles to bring over and pop in the freezer.”
“Dat and I are getting by okay, you know.”
“Of course you are.” Sarah sat down across from her and pushed a bowl of snack mix toward her. “I tried adding raisins, cranberries and chocolate chips in this one.”
“Englischers sell this in bags.”
“But mine is better.”
Eunice took a handful, tried it and nodded in agreement. “Yours is better.”
“Becca’s going to sell them.” Sarah beamed as she sat back. “The whole family is getting involved in this tour thing.”
“That’s how I still think of it too. ‘The tour thing.’”
They both laughed.
“So, that’s it? You didn’t come to quiz me about my date?”
“I did not.” Sarah grinned and waited. When Eunice didn’t jump in, she added, “But feel free to spill all the details.”
“Actually, there’s not that much to tell.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Well, it was your first date in a while. Right?”
“Over a year, actually.” Eunice picked up a copy of the Budget to fan herself. “That’s rather embarrassing to admit.”
“Okay. First date in over a year and you have nothing to say about it?”
Eunice reached for another handful of trail mix. “I guess it was okay. Nothing great. I found myself wondering what all the fuss was about.”
“Hmm.”
“You said that already.”
“Maybe I’m saying it because you keep stumping me.” Sarah craned her neck to the left, then the right. “Was he polite?”
“Ya. Very.”
“Interesting?”
“In his way, I suppose so. He’s an English professor, so his world is pretty different from mine.”
“Was he attentive?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he ask about your work or your hobbies? Anything like that?”
“Oh, ya. He wanted to hear about the tours and my work on small engines. We shared a few laughs about my blunders at the yarn shop.”
Sarah stood, walked to the sink, looked out the window, then turned around and studied Eunice. “So, no goosebumps or butterflies or racing heart?”
“That stuff is only in books, Sarah. Not real life.”
Sarah sat back down beside her. “In a way you’re right, and in a way you’re wrong.”
“Explain it to me.”
“It’s true that romance books talk about those things as if we’re all swooning over one another—walking around with fast heartbeats, feeling out of breath, seeing little cupid hearts pop up here and there, feeling butterflies in our stomachs...”
Eunice couldn’t help laughing, and somehow that laughter made her feel better. “I suppose I might have been expecting one or two of those things. But it was just—okay. It was a perfectly fine evening, but nothing to write home about.”
“So you’re right that the fairy-tale picture of being in love isn’t real life. But, Eunice, when you’re with the right person, when you’re with the person that Gotte has meant for you...there are moments that feel special like that.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t look sad. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”
“Okay.”
“But apparently not with Lester.”
“Apparently not.”
“Unless you wanted to give him another try? Maybe go for a second date?”
“Nein. I think one date with Lester was enough. To tell you the truth, I couldn’t get past the idea that if we did care for each other, one of us would need to convert to the other’s religion.”
“That would be pretty far down the road.”
“But I don’t want to go down that road at all. Not now. Not six months from now. I like being Amish, and I suspect Lester enjoys being Mennonite.”
“Which is one more way of saying you’re not the ideal person for each other.”
“Yup.” And now she felt better about it. The night had been a little disappointing, and she hadn’t been able to figure out why. “Talking with you always helps.”
They both stood and Sarah pulled her into a hug. Eunice was suddenly aware of the child her schweschder was carrying and something in her heart twisted. Would she ever be a mom? Did she want to be?
Then holding Eunice at arm’s length, Sarah studied her.
“What? Do I have trail mix on my face?”
“Nein. It’s just that I love you, and you’ve turned into a beautiful and smart and kind woman.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Now Eunice felt immeasurably better. Funny how Sarah could give you a pep talk, and you didn’t even realize that was what she was doing.
As Eunice walked Sarah out to her buggy, she told her about the tours, the guests and then finally about Zeb and how he was seeing a doctor.
“That’s a big step.”
“I know it. I’m proud of him.”
“You two have always been close.”
“Close but only friends, so don’t give me that smile.” Eunice thought that Sarah was practically glowing. Her baby bump was beginning to show. She was in love. She had moved on with her life—past the confines of the home she’d grown up in.
“Sometimes, what starts as friendship grows into something else.”
“If you say so.”
“Keep dating.”
“Okay.”
“It’s probably going to take more than one attempt to hit the jackpot.”
“Right.”
As Sarah drove away, Eunice stood watching. She had irritated herself by comparing Lester to Zeb in her mind all during the date. She couldn’t figure out why she was doing it. She had felt powerless to stop.
She did not think Sarah was right about friendship turning into love, at least not in this instance.
But she was probably right that it would take more than one attempt at dating to find someone special. If she was with the right guy, she wouldn’t be thinking about Zeb. The only question was, who could this new romantic interest possibly be? Because she couldn’t think of a single person.
Maybe it was time to ask someone else’s advice.
Her family could only help her so much. She needed to ask someone who was her age and someone who knew her pretty well. And, suddenly, she knew just who that was.
Chapter Twelve
The next day was a church Sunday, and they were meeting at Bethany and Ada’s farm. Eunice was looking forward to the day. She liked when church service was at a family member’s place. It felt like being at home, only someone else was in charge of getting the benches set up, arranging the potluck table and all the other things that came with holding a church meeting for over a hundred people. They’d joked for years about one day needing to split into two church districts, but Eunice hoped that didn’t happen anytime soon. She liked things the way they were.
Plus the house on Huckleberry Lane had grown into a very special place for the Yoder family. Ada and Ethan and Peter were now living in a smaller home that had been constructed next to the main house. Bethany, Aaron, Lydia and Daniel lived in the original house which had gone through a much-needed renovation. There was a covered breezeway between the two which made it easy to carry things back and forth between the two families during rainy weather or snowstorms.
Sunday morning dawned rainy and a bit colder. Eunice lay in bed for a few extra minutes, listening to the rain drum against the roof. The weather didn’t dampen her mood at all. The temperatures were cold as they should be in mid-November, but it wasn’t freezing. She dressed quickly, made a light breakfast for her and her dat, and they were ready to head over to the church service as Gideon, Becca, Mary and Abram stepped out of their home. Eunice loved that they’d built on the family property. She liked all of her family being close enough to drop in on, or borrow sugar from, or cry on their shoulder.
Not that she felt like crying today.
Eunice’s mind was made up, and with that decision came courage.
She and her dat had talked about everyday things on the ride over—the weather, the recent circle letter from their family in Kentucky, the upcoming holidays. Time seemed to speed up and they were suddenly pulling into Huckleberry Lane. Eunice felt almost giddy as she hopped out of the buggy and hurried to help her schweschdern. They shooed her away, telling her it was all taken care of and that she should enjoy the day of worship.
The main room of the barn had been set up for services with the doors flung open to let in extra light. Even with the rain and the cool temperatures, the giant room warmed up quickly.
Eunice liked worshipping in a barn. She liked the smell of the hay, the occasional neighing of horses, the way they all sat a little closer to one another. It reminded her of being a child and playing in the barn. Those were happy memories from a time that existed after the grief of her mother’s passing and before the awkwardness of adolescence. It was possible that she’d stayed in the barn all of these years for that very reason.
It felt nice.
And safe.
But Eunice had woken that morning tired of nice and safe. She couldn’t explain what had changed. Was it the so-so date with Lester? The talk with Sarah? Her growing confidence due to the successful tours? Maybe her newfound confidence was a result of learning to knit. She’d actually done two rows of a hat the day before, without dropping a single stitch.
Whatever the reason, she could hardly wait for the service to begin. She was looking forward to worshipping. The hymns were some of her favorites. The preaching was on Isaiah chapter forty-one. Be of good courage. It was almost as if every aspect of the service was confirming that this day was the day she was meant to step out of her old life and into her new.
She managed to wait until Zeb and Josh had eaten and scraped their plates clean before excusing herself from the table where all her schweschdern and their families were sitting.
“Where are you off to?” Bethany asked.
“Tell you later.”
“Tell you later, alligator.” Ada echoed Eunice in a singsong voice, as she snuggled baby Peter. “See her smile, crocodile.”
Eunice heard Peter laughing as she walked away.
She caught up with Zeb and Josh at the horse stall located at the far end of the barn. Ethan had enlarged it and made it as comfortable as possible for Ada’s menagerie. Josh was already inside the stall. Zeb was standing at the half door which had been closed to keep any wayward pet from escaping. He nodded hello, then tilted his head toward Josh, who didn’t seem at all surprised to look up and see her.
“Do you know this one’s name, Eunice?”
“Sure. That’s Pongo. He’s a Boer goat.”
“And is the donkey really blind?”
“We think Matilda can see shadows.”
Josh had plopped onto the ground next to Matilda and was gingerly petting her between the ears. One of the beagles climbed into his lap, and he started laughing when it licked him in the face.
“And the dogs? What are their names?”
She hesitated, trying to remember which was which. The beagles looked like identical twins to her.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the names of the dogs.” Zeb’s voice was low, teasing, closer than she’d realized.
Eunice tossed her kapp strings behind her shoulders and tried to act as if Zeb’s standing so close to her didn’t bother her one bit. Why was it bothering her? He was simply one of her best friends. Except today he was cleaned up, smelling nice and wearing freshly laundered clothes. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d also cut his hair.
“I know their names. That’s Ginger. Or maybe Snap.” She looked to the beagle curled up in the corner next to Pongo, then back at Josh. “Kinda hard to tell, actually.”
“This is not a normal horse stall.” Zeb crossed his arms over the half door, staring into the stall, probably trying to come up with an explanation for the strange assortment of animals. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem at all perturbed or overly protective that his son sat in the midst of them.
Eunice mimicked his posture at the half door. “Before Ada went to work with the SPCA, before she and Ethan fell in love, she became an animal rescuer. That’s how she accumulated all of these lost ones—her name for them, not mine.” She hesitated for the space of a heartbeat. “Say, do you mind if I talk to you about something?”
Zeb looked surprised, but shrugged and said, “I guess.”
“Okay. This is a little hard to say, so I’ll plunge right in.” Eunice noticed she now had his full attention, but she tried not to let that bother her. Why was she so aware of him all of a sudden? When had she felt awkward around Zeb Mast? Happy—sure. Irritated—more than once. Infuriated—yeah. But awkward? Crossing her arms felt defensive, but dropping them at her side felt odd too.
“You were going to say...”
“Right. As you predicted, my date with Lester didn’t go so well.”
Zeb’s shoulders stiffened. “Did he—”
“He was a perfect gentleman. He just—well, as you might have hinted, he just wasn’t my type.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“But, and this is the embarrassing part, I realized that maybe I am ready to date. Maybe it won’t be as awkward and demoralizing as when I was a youngie.”
Zeb glanced over the stall door, seemed satisfied that Josh was okay, and lightly tugged on Eunice’s arm to pull her away a few feet. “Little pitchers, big ears, and all that.”
“Huh?”
“Why was dating awkward for you? Why was it demoralizing?”
“Well, Zeb, because I’m sure at least a third of the time, the guy was simply following a dare to date me.”
“Nein. No one in our community is that cruel.”
“Maybe they didn’t mean to be cruel.”
“When did this happen?”
“We were kids—teens, I guess. And like any other teens we didn’t always do the commendable thing. I know at least one time...” She put her hands on her hips and stared at the ground, then looked up at him. “Nein. This doesn’t embarrass me anymore. I did nothing to be embarrassed about. But at least one time, I heard someone say something like I did it. I dated the greasy girl. Now you owe me five dollars.”
