The Englisher (10 page)
On the way to the table, Courtney said, ‘‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but I think you probably suspect it already.’’
‘‘What’re you talking about?’’ Louisa sat down.
Courtney’s eyes were blinking too fast. ‘‘Let’s see . . . how do I put this?’’
‘‘Just say it.’’
‘‘I think you’re too comfortable here. I mean, what are you
really
doing? Did you have to come to Amish country to run away?’’ Courtney’s face was red, as if holding back a torrent of words.
‘‘I came to see Annie . . . I’d always wanted to visit. And I really do feel settled here.’’
‘‘Oh, that’s just great. You want to become Amish?’’
Louisa wished Courtney might have the courtesy to lower her voice, but instead Courtney continued loudly, ‘‘You couldn’t keep your eyes off that Amish guy last night.What was that about?’’ Courtney raised her eyebrows. ‘‘You’re not
really
interested in dating men like that, are you?’’
‘‘Like what? Honest, gentle, caring? Men like
that
?’’
Shaking her head, Courtney opened a bag of chocolate chip cookies, obviously disgusted.
Louisa forced a smile. ‘‘Boy, Court. Why is this such a big deal to you?’’
‘‘It’s not a big deal just to me, Louisa.’’
‘‘What’s that supposed to mean?’’
In place of an answer, Courtney offered a gooey cookie instead. ‘‘Here, this will make you think more clearly.’’
Louisa tapped her cup. ‘‘It’ll take more than chocolate to change my mind. Trust me.’’ She glanced over to see Annie at the cash register. ‘‘Look, this conversation is really pointless.’’
Courtney stirred her mocha, staring into the cup. ‘‘I don’t know who you are anymore.’’
‘‘Well, I guess I don’t recognize myself sometimes either.’’ Louisa sighed. ‘‘But, to tell you the truth, I actually think I like
this
me better.’’
Courtney’s face registered complete shock.
‘‘For the record, I’ve found something here. Is that so hard to believe?’’
Courtney smirked. ‘‘I figured it was just a phase.’’ She chewed carefully, slowly. ‘‘But this is nuts. I mean, it’s like you need to be deprogrammed or something.’’ Courtney was still for a moment, but when she spoke, her tone had changed to pleading. ‘‘C’mon, Louisa. Put all this nonsense aside and come home with me. Your parents would be thrilled.’’
‘‘No, thanks. I’m learning things . . . I have a long way to go. And I know you’ll be shocked, but I’m actually very happy here.’’
Courtney wrinkled up her nose.
Louisa leaned her elbows on the table, fixing Courtney with a serious gaze. ‘‘Why’d you come, Court? To visit or to get me to return home?’’
‘‘I came to see you, of course. We’ve been friends for a long time.’’ Courtney paused, then she said, ‘‘Besides that, Michael wants you home.’’
Louisa leaned back, sighing, squeezing her eyes shut. ‘‘So that’s it.’’
Courtney smiled too sweetly. ‘‘The guy’s still crazy about you.’’
‘‘He asked you to bring me back?’’
‘‘Well, hey, what’s so wrong with that?’’
‘‘I’ll bet he paid for your ticket here, too.’’
‘‘What if he did?’’
Louisa rose and huffed her disgust, heading across the food court, her shoulders squared. She was sick of defending herself to someone who should have understood her.
Annie headed to the table, wondering why Lou had rushed off . . . and where she was going. She sat down with her hot cocoa, glancing toward Courtney. ‘‘Louisa’s upset?’’
Courtney pushed her hair behind her ear. ‘‘She’s a lot of things right now, I think. Probably offended, too.’’
Annie suspected Courtney had set Lou off somehow. But she refused to give way to her own anger over this worldly woman’s glaring disapproval of Lou. The Good Book said:
The tongue of the wise useth knowledge aright: but the mouth of
fools poureth out foolishness
. ‘‘It can be an awful frightening thing to lose yourself in the darkness,’’ Annie said softly.
‘‘What do you mean?’’ Courtney asked, her eyes hard on Annie.
Gathering her wits, Annie continued, ‘‘I recall a longago sermon my father gave . . . about letting yourself listen to the silence around you—getting in a place where you can actually hear yourself think, ya know? And, well, letting the Lord God make us—each one—into a servant.’’
‘‘Please,’’ muttered Courtney.
She’s mocking me.
‘‘No, now listen. Louisa was losing herself in the busy world. She came looking for peace, to make sense of her life.’’ Annie paused. ‘‘Guess you might be needin’ some of that, too?’’
Courtney shrugged and pushed her chair out. ‘‘Later,’’ she said, heading off to look for Lou, most likely.
‘‘Something I said?’’ Annie whispered to herself. She gathered up the refuse on their table and carried it to the trash container.
Esther was aware of Zeke’s dark eyes on her as he held their baby daughter. She trembled despite Irvin’s and Julia’s presence in the small attic room, transformed into a bedroom for her children—six-year-old Laura, three-year-old Zach, two-year-old John, baby Essie—and herself.
‘‘Such a sweetie pie she is.’’ Julia broke the silence, her light brown hair swept back beneath the cup-shaped prayer covering of white netting.
‘‘Jah’’ was all Zeke said, still creating concern in Esther as he looked from the baby and back to her, meeting her eyes with disdain.
I’ve spurned him. . . .
‘‘The Lord is so good to bless us with another healthy child,’’ she managed to say, linking herself once again to her precious Savior.
Julia came and sat next to Esther, and Esther welcomed her nearness.
‘‘Essie’s a droopy one today,’’ Esther whispered, scarcely able to think of anything except that her husband was terribly displeased with her. Not for birthing such a pretty baby, no . . . but for saying she was ‘‘saved’’ and a follower of the Lord Jesus, the reason for her recent temporary shunning. And for running off as she had three weeks ago, leaving him to fend for himself alone without even his children to comfort him with their laughter.
He must despise me for it
.
Irvin glanced at Julia, an apprehensive look in his blue eyes. ‘‘When would be a good time for Zeke to visit again, Esther?’’ he asked, reaching for his wife’s hand.
Esther made the mistake of looking at Zeke, who was already shaking his head in disgust and walking to the window with the baby.
He’s ever so angry. But he’s always
that. . . .
‘‘I want my wife to return home,’’ Zeke said, his back to them, his feet planted firmly apart. He was breathing hard.
Irvin stood quickly. ‘‘We have an agreement on that, Ezekiel. You and I, together, will decide when that’s a good idea. And we both know now’s not the time.’’
Zeke turned to face them, still cradling Essie Ann in the crook of his big arm. ‘‘Esther’s my wife. I say what she does . . . where she lives.’’
Now Julia rose to stand beside Irvin. ‘‘Zeke, please, not 88 with the baby near.’’
It must have been Julia’s gentle way, but Zeke relinquished Essie Ann, who was still sleeping in spite of her father’s booming voice. Esther felt herself sigh, glad her husband would be seen out by Irvin—and right quick.
Without even taking time to say good-bye, Zeke followed Irvin to the door.
Esther heard the loud clumping of feet on the stairs, and she waited to speak to Julia, who went to her and held her near. ‘‘Oh, Julia . . .’’ she sobbed. ‘‘How can I ever go back to him?’’
‘‘You won’t . . . not unless he proves himself to be kind and loving. Irvin will see to it.’’
Esther choked back her tears, for her baby’s sake, shaking her head. ‘‘There was a time when Zeke was good to me.’’ She sniffled and rose to put the baby in the cradle across the room. ‘‘He loved me then.’’
‘‘Dear Esther, you mustn’t say that.’’ Julia stayed seated. ‘‘He loves you now. Surely he does.’’
Love suffereth long, and is kind . . . love envieth not . . .
doth not behave itself unseemly . . . is not easily provoked. . . .
‘‘Well, doesn’t seem so,’’ Esther whispered. ‘‘Hasn’t for ever so long.’’
‘‘Trust the Lord that Irvin will minister compassion and help to Zeke, for now,’’ said Julia.
‘‘Jah, I need to trust more.’’ But it was terribly hard when she knew what was in store for her should she succumb to her husband’s demands and return to the farmhouse where Zeke now lived alone. A home where firstgrader Laura, as well as Zach and little John, would be at the mercy of their father’s quick and fierce temper.
And now
poor infant Essie Ann, too. . . .
She recalled the heart-wrenching times when Zeke had yanked their Laura into the pitch black belly of the cellar as punishment for not completing a chore quickly enough. Esther had heard the fearful sobs, knowing too well her little girl was sitting on the tip-top step, her body pressed against the door, no doubt leaning down toward the sliver of light beneath it.
Esther, too, had longed for a thread of hope, when first she’d married Zeke and dared to disobey him herself. Her heart had pounded so forcefully she’d scarcely been able to breathe.
Sent to the blackness,
she remembered with a shudder.
As black as Zeke himself
.
When Annie finally found Lou outside, Courtney was nowhere in sight. ‘‘She’s off to do some more shopping,’’ Lou explained. ‘‘Good riddance, I say. She only came to talk me into coming home. I should’ve known.’’
‘‘I’m sure she means well,’’ Annie said.
‘‘But, get this—Michael paid for her to come here. She came at his request.’’
‘‘Even so . . .’’ Annie wanted to help. ‘‘Wouldn’t you want to patch things up with her?’’
‘‘What’s to patch? She basically said I’m insane to stay here. She has no right to say that.’’
Annie pondered that. ‘‘Jah, maybe so.’’
Lou looked at her. ‘‘Maybe?’’
‘‘Well, I daresay all three of us need to separate for a bit.’’ Annie didn’t know what else to say. It appeared that Lou was terribly upset at everyone and everything.
‘‘You’re right. I think I need to cool off,’’ Lou said. ‘‘How will you get home, though?’’
‘‘Oh, I’ll just call one of our drivers at a pay phone. No problem at all.’’ Annie waved to her. ‘‘I’ll see you back at the house later on.’’
‘‘All right.’’ Lou’s smile was a thin one.
She’s hurt,
Annie realized, wondering if Courtney really
had
come only to talk Lou into going home. She found it surprising that a modern woman would let a man pay her way, especially one she wasn’t related to.
Annie hated leaving her friend there like that, alone and in a right fancy world looking ever so Plain. All the same, she set out walking across the vast parking lot and finally came to the edge of the sidewalk, shivering against the cold and waiting for the light to turn on the busy road.
Honestly, did Courtney think she could get Lou to return to
Colorado by being rude?
Annie couldn’t help wondering how close Lou really was to her modern friend.
She pondered Lou’s decision to go their separate ways just now as she stood waiting at the pedestrian light. Wondering why it was taking so long, she felt suddenly selfconscious, just as she often did while tending her family’s market stand. So many staring faces. She not only felt terribly out of place, but she was freezing.
Suddenly she heard her name rising up over the din of the traffic—‘‘Annie Zook!’’
Am I hearing things?
Startled, she turned in the direction of the voice and saw Ben Martin waving to her from his car. ‘‘Stay right there, Annie,’’ he called and motioned that he would park his car.
She couldn’t believe it. How on earth had he found her?
‘‘I mustn’t let him persuade me to ride,’’ she said beneath her breath. Yet she wanted to. All the good sense she’d inherited from her Mamm and Daed . . . where was it now? What was she to do in this crucial moment?
But she surprised herself and did as Ben requested, standing there as the light changed.
Er hot mich yuscht fer en
Narr ghalde?
‘‘Is he making a fool of me?’’ she whispered.
Well, I won’t listen to him
, she told herself, wishing she had already crossed when the light changed. But then, wasn’t that downright rude?
Groaning inwardly, she grimaced, upset to no end.
‘‘Annie! What are you doing all this way from home?’’ Ben asked, running toward her now.
She waited till he was closer so as not to raise her voice. ‘‘I’ve been out shopping,’’ she said. ‘‘I came with Lou and her friend Courtney—mainly so Lou wouldn’t be alone with her Amish dress, ya know.’’
His eyes searched her face, but she dared not look at him directly. She was much too drawn to this fine and fancy fellow.
‘‘You’re not going to walk home, I hope. It’s a long way . . . and much too busy a highway, and . . .’’ He stopped short of saying she’d stick out the way she looked, but his kind intent was evident.
He’s worried for me . . . wants to take care that I get home
all right
. And because of this and so many other wonderful things about him, she agreed to ride in his car. ‘‘As long as we go straight there,’’ she told him.
She did something she’d promised herself she would never ever do. She let Ben walk her to his car, open the door, and wait till she got settled into the passenger seat. Then he hurried around the car to his own side.
With a contagious smile, he pressed the key into the ignition and the car roared to a start. Annie would not stare, but she was terribly aware that his hand was resting on the gearshift between them, ever so near. . . .
O
ut running an errand after lunch, Ben’s heart had nearly stopped when he saw Annie Zook alone, near the outlet mall.
Unbelievable,
he thought.
I must be living right
.
Now here she sat in his car, gripping the armrest as they rode toward the countryside.
‘‘I hope this won’t cause a problem for you,’’ he said.
‘‘You drivin’ me, ya mean?’’
‘‘It won’t, will it?’’
‘‘Only if someone sees us.’’
He liked her quick comeback. She pulled no punches, this girl. ‘‘Okay . . . just let me know where you want to be dropped off, okay?’’
