For Sure & Certain (16 page)

Lily had rationalized, “It’s just going to be an overview of what we’ve learned so far. Chill, okay? The quiz will be a recap of the Industrial Revolution, I mean, basically.”

“I’d thought you’d be more concerned, Lily, considering who your dad is,” said Abel, remembering what Marigold had revealed about her father.

“Wait, hold up, who’s your dad?” Jenna asked.

“Maximillian Archer? He wrote some books….” Lily shifted in her seat suddenly looking uncomfortable.

“Your dad is the
Industry Superhero
guy?” Lacey whistled. “Shit, he’s like legit.”

“I’m shocked you haven’t brought him up before Lily …I thought a girl like you would be touting your family’s credentials.” Jenna raised her eyes seemingly impressed.

“I just don’t want to be here because of who my dad is. I’m not like that, whatever you might think of me … I’m not riding on coattails.”

“Sorry,” Abel said, raising his hands. “I didn’t mean to offend you, honest. I just don’t get how someone with a dad like you have can act so blasé about the pop quiz.”

“You don’t seem to mind that Marigold isn’t jumping at the chance to come to Jamestown. We have the same parents, we’re from the same family.”

“You’re just different than Marigold is all,” Abel tried to explain. But the moment he spoke, he knew he’d put his foot in his mouth. Again. He couldn’t seem to get anything right with the Archer girls this week.

“Listen, Abel, I know how lucky I am to have the family I do. But I came here because I’ve been pushing myself since I was a kid to be the best, always go for the extra credit, be the teacher’s pet. I don’t know if it’s all that it’s cracked up to be. I’m kind of tired of being that girl.”

The group got silent at Lily’s admission, and Abel saw Jenna shoot Lacey a look that said,
don’t you dare say some jackass thing
.

“Also, and I’m not trying to be a jerk here, Abel,” Lily continued breaking the silence. “But I’ve never been to school without my sister before. She was always the one who got the attention for doing things … differently. So I ran the opposite way to get a different sort of attention. But now she’s not here, and for the first time in my life, I can just be myself.”

“And yourself doesn’t like studying for pop quizzes?” Jenna asked, leaning toward Lily.

“I guess not,” she admitted, letting out a giant laugh. Lacey and Jenna seemed to find it hilarious too, and Abel realized that these three had come from such a different world than him, nothing carried the same weight.

“I know you’re not gonna like this, but I still think we should give ourselves a practice quiz,” Abel had pushed back, but everyone else disagreed. 

“Abel,” Lacey said. “You’re seriously getting all stressed for nothing. And we just had a study group break through. We totally did our share of bonding.”

That was how it had been all week, the group growing more and more agitated with Abel’s lack of experience in group and school settings. He felt their pity, and worse, their annoyance when he voiced an apparently obvious question.

“So let’s just cool it on the practice quiz stuff and finish going through this list Trape gave us, you know, on how to become best friends forever?” Jenna laughed on her own words. “I mean there must be a reason for his method, right? He’s a super well-respected prof.” Jenna pulled out the sheet they hadn’t completed when they met earlier in the week. Every time it was his turn to answer a “get to know you” question, he rolled his eyes or shrugged off a response.

“I’m game,” Lily said. “I mean, I didn’t intend to get all heavy there.”

“Cool,” Jenna said. “And we said we’d still meet for another ninety minutes, you guys okay with that?”

Lacey nodded and Abel felt he had no choice but to go along with the group.

“So, Abel, what was your favorite summer memory?” Lily asked.

“Um, I suppose fishing,” he answered curtly, adjusting himself in the chair. Every stupid question annoyed him; it felt like such a waste of time. He didn’t give up working for his father to do a Q & A with a group of strangers. He was here to work.

“What kind of fish?” Lacey asked. “We have a pretty well-stocked trout pond at our summer place, you fish for trout?

Abel lifted his eyes to Lacey, who was trying so hard to be a team player. “Yeah, I’ve caught some trout.”

“Okaaay,” Jenna said, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. “Lacey, what about you?”

“I’m holding out for this summer’s memories,” he said flashing Jenna an unabashed grin. “I mean, a college campus, a great city, no parentals holding me back.”

Lily laughed at this. “Oh you have parentals holding you back from what exactly, Lacey? You have more access to pot than any high schooler I’ve ever met. I doubt your parents keep you on a tight leash.”

Jenna laughed in agreement. “Yeah, Lacey, what’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done that your parents didn’t know about?”

“I’m hoping it will be you.” He threw back his head cracking himself up. Jenna jumped up and began pummeling him in the chest, laughing.

“In your dreams.” She punched him on his shoulder, and he grabbed her arm playfully.

“Joking, joking!”

“Yeah you are, you’re all talk … I know you can’t handle this.” Jenna sat back down smirking.

“You’re trouble, Lacey,” Lily said laughing. It surprised Abel to see a girl who wore button down shirts joke around so easily with people she’d just met. “But I think you’re freaking out our Angel-Boy. Gotta keep it PG for him.” Lily raised her eyebrows and everyone seemed to resume “proper decorum” which made Abel shake his head in annoyance. At them. At their stupid jokes. At all of it. This was supposed to be the summer everything came together for him. Instead it felt like everything was beginning to fall apart.

“I live with him, so believe me, Lily, I’ve witnessed more than the two of them wrestling.”

“Yeah,” Lacey piped up, “But have you ever done more than wrestling?” The group erupted in another round of laughter, leaving Abel with a growing headache. They continued that way for another hour until Abel finally shoved off and went back to the dorm. He lost brain cells each moment he sat there with those three, all seemingly to be missing the point. This was an academic program, not some
Englisher’s
summer camp.

***

He swung by the dining hall and made a plate to-go, and brought his dinner back to the dorms. Turning circles in the quiet, empty room, he eyed the telephone, wishing it would ring. Wishing it was Marigold. Wishing he could apologize and hear a familiar voice.

He liked Lacey and Jenna, Lily, even, but he’d needed everyone to take this more seriously. It couldn’t just be jokes and games. Attending college was a given for them, no family would be betrayed by them wanting to attend a prestigious university. His classmates didn’t match his urgency; he had things at stake they never had to wrap their minds around.

He couldn’t help wonder if he’d made the right decision to me here.

But Abel remembered how adamant he’d been about coming. Going back to his parents’ farm now would mean they were right, that he wasn’t cut out for the English life. He’d told his parents, with this acceptance later in hand, that not following his heart would lead to discontent, and that he needed to be content as an Amish man, or he’d resent the community for all his life.

Abel knew if this was hard, going back home now would be even harder.

He pulled out his notebook and pen from his backpack, and sat at his desk rereading all the notes he’d taken over the course of the week, determined to ace the quiz. He double-checked some stats on his laptop, pausing to take bites of now-cold lasagna and looking at the phone wishing he could call Marigold, but knowing that wasn’t an option. She was off the grid at his parents’ house.

He took another bite of the lasagna filled with green vegetables, very unlike his mother’s. His mother’s was full of home-canned tomato sauce and sausage from a local butcher, no zucchini or spinach in sight. It was impossible to not imagine what his family was doing right now; surely Bekah would be on her way to the Singing. Maybe Marigold would knit with his mom while his dad read the local newspaper, noting a farm auction coming up.

He was so lost in thought, it took three rings from the phone before he realized it was actually ringing, that it wasn’t just his imagination.

“Hello,” he said. “This is Abel, can I help you?”

“Abel?” a muffled voice came through the line and Abel couldn’t recognize it. “Abel, it’s Marigold. Can you hear me?” She sounded clearer this time, and he nodded yes, before remembering she couldn’t see him.

“Ja, it’s me. You called back,” his voice filled with surprise.

“I shouldn’t have ended the call on such bad terms before.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t being very considerate. I said a really stupid thing.”

“That’s true.”

Abel smiled, liking the fact that Marigold wasn’t letting him off the hook too easily.

“It wasn’t nice, Abel. And I don’t know, maybe if I wasn’t at your parents’ home, hanging out with your sister everyday, so completely connected to your family, I wouldn’t have bothered with you again. If you were a guy I met in the city and you’d said that, I may have given up on you.”

“But?” Abel asked hopefully.

“But I can’t do that so easily. Everyone I meet seems to think you say some really dumb things from time to time, that you rarely think before you speak.”

“So you’ve told my sister and mom about our fight?”

“Yes.”

Abel sighed, not really liking the fact she consulted his family about their relationship, but knowing that their relationship became really complicated the moment she moved into his parents’ home.

“And what did they say?” Abel asked, resting his elbows on the counter.

“They said Abel had never been the most sensitive boy. That I should try again.”

“My mom wanted you to try again with me?”

“What can I say, she likes me and--” Marigold said, but her voice became fuzzy again, and cut out the last bit.

“What was that?” Abel asked. “Where are you?

“I’m on my way to a Singing. Bekah and I are walking there now, that’s why it’s so spotty.”

“You’re going to a Singing?” Abel’s eyes shot up.

“Crazy, right?”

“My parents are okay with this?”

“Yes, and Bishop Fisher too.”

“Huh?”

“All I get is a huh?” Marigold’s voice sounded scratchy, her inflection raw. He didn’t know if it was the signal or if he’d ticked her off again.

“You wanted to go to the Singing?” Abel asked, trying to keep his voice even. He never imagined Marigold would want to go to a stiff and formal Singing after a life in the city.

“Sure, I mean after church today I figure nothing can be as stiff as that.”

“You went to church, too?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Why did you go?” Abel asked her, genuinely lost. It was one thing for Marigold to work at his parents’ house, but going to church and Singings like a regular Amish girl? That was something entirely different.

“I wanted to go to church, Abel, and I was invited by your father. Bekah lent me clothes and I don’t know why I am explaining all of this to you. I thought you were apologizing, the one who needed to set things straight.”

“This is just a lot to take in.”

“Is it though, Abel? I mean you….”

The connection was lost. Abel hung up, hoping she’d call back. She did a second later, but it was just a screeching disconnect and then the phone went dead again. Abel held the phone up for another few minutes, willing Marigold to call back, but there was nothing. No dial tone.

Marigold in his sister’s clothes? Going to a Singing?
His stomach churned as he wondered if she would do something ridiculous like go home in someone’s buggy besides his own. After that disastrous phone call he wouldn’t really blame her.

He went back to his lasagna, the zucchini gummy in his mouth. No longer hungry for the soggy food, he scraped the rest of the plate in the garbage. Having the phone call end so abruptly had left him with a sour taste and he knew he didn’t want to be left with that for a lifetime.

If Marigold was going all in with the Amish lifestyle, he could try harder at this too. He needed to make his study group work, win them over by being a team player.

Try.

He could try.             

Marigold

She looked at the phone in her hand, not seeing a single bar in the upper right corner signaling reception.

“Oh well,” she said, looking at Bekah who had a worried expression. “It’s par for the course.”

“Didn’t go so well?” Bekah asked, walking alongside Marigold. They were on the side of the road, and the sun still shone overhead, just after seven o’clock.

“No. But I think I get why you guys don’t use phones. Everything gets lost in translation.” Marigold bit her lip, not wanting to divulge everything about the relationship, or whatever it was, with Abel’s sister. He sounded genuinely annoyed that she was enjoying herself.