For Sure & Certain (17 page)

“Ja, that sounds about right with Abel. Maybe you should write him?”

“I don’t know, I mean honestly we hardly know one another, and I don’t want to push a relationship with someone who may not be a good fit for me. I mean, we shouldn’t even be having this conversation. I’m not Amish. He and I would never work.”

“You could be.”

“What, be Amish?” Marigold shook her head.

“What, is it the religious thing?” Bekah asked. “Because you sure seem to fit right in, better than a lot of Amish girls I know. Mom and Dad think the same thing. It’s like you were made for this life.”

“They said that?” Marigold asked, pride filling her belly. The emotional reaction surprised her, but she knew the feeling came from someone being proud of her talent, seeing her abilities as assets, not a bother.

“Ja, you’re not running away after a week, that says something I think.”

“Well, I have cheated with the phone.”

“You haven’t even tried calling your family though.”

“I don’t have anything to say to them, I’m just glad Lily sent my stuff,” Marigold said, remembering the delivery that came the day before. Piles of clothes, her favorite blanket that had covered her queen-sized bed at home, her lavender lotion. Having her favorite things with her, she realized there was nothing much she needed. “Family is complicated, isn’t it?” she asked Bekah.

They walked towards the barn that belonged to a community member who offered his space for the youth event, but Bekah explained that the signing started after a volleyball game.

“Volleyball? Everyone plays?” Marigold asked while looking at the long dresses all the girls wore, including her.

“Ja, but we don’t have too, if you’d rather watch.”

“Let’s watch,” Marigold said, adjusting the apron on her borrowed dress. She was hardly used to walking in the clothes, she couldn’t imagine jumping to spike a ball in them.

As the game began, though, Marigold realized lots of the teens gathered had no problem jostling for the ball, slamming it on the other side of the net, and giving one another a hard time for missed balls. It wasn’t all that different than a group of kids at home getting together for a soccer or football game, not that Marigold often found herself in a scene like that.

Of course no one here swore or made out on the sidelines like they would have at home, but Marigold did notice some girls wearing light make up, and a few guys wore jeans, choices she knew would only be permitted for a youth on Rumspringa. People came over and introduced themselves to her as she sat in the grass with Bekah. Everyone seemed curious about this English girl wearing plain clothes, but they didn’t ask more than a few general questions. Marigold took Bekah’s lead and kept things short.

Later, after the game, they sat on benches with hymnals in hand and Marigold listened as the group sang in beautiful harmony for a few hours. The songs were much more upbeat than the somber ones she’d heard earlier at church. Marigold didn’t know the Dutch the songs were sung in, and her mind wandered to her earlier conversation with Abel. If he wanted to write he could, otherwise they would wait and see one another in a few weeks, but she didn’t come here this summer to get tangled in a relationship with a guy. Perhaps the reason they met wasn't to create a lasting relationship. Maybe the purpose of meeting had only to do with providing this job for Marigold.

Still it was easier said than done, her heart twisted with emotion over him. They had a connection she couldn’t deny.

When the Singing ended Marigold stood to the side of the room feeling misplaced as the guys brought in tables and girls carried in plates of cookies and pitchers of lemonade.

Eyeing the lemon bars she brought to share, she noticed several people taking them. Marigold smiled seeing how her treat was appreciated. So simple, but it dawned on her again, how unappreciated she felt at home. All week at the Millers’ she’d felt useful, and Bekah’s remarks showed her that she hadn’t missed the mark on having found a purpose within the household.

Simple things like helping with Jakey while Mrs. Miller took a shower, or picking flowers with Ruthie for the dining room table had felt important. She’d never spent time with younger kids before, but it didn’t feel like a chore in the way her mother had always expressed her memories of caring for her, Lily, and Cedar when they were children.

“You want to get something to eat?” Bekah asked tugging on Marigold’s elbow. Katie was making a beeline for them and she realized Bekah wanted to avoid her.

“Of course.” Marigold laughed. “But should we look for Joshua?”

“He’s right over there,” Bekah said, nodding to the other side of the barn, leading Marigold to the refreshments.

“Oh, so you
are
into him.”

“I didn’t say that exactly. But, it’s Joshua. He’s much to wild for me.” Bekah mumbled her words into the rim of her lemonade.

“Maybe you can tame him,” Marigold teased, noting how Bekah wasn’t a very social girl. She’d noticed this at the church service, too. She kept close to her, causing her to wonder who she would have sat next to or eaten lunch with if Marigold wasn’t there.

When Katie finally made her way over to them, Marigold was reminded exactly who Bekah used to send time with.

“So, Bekah, have you heard from Esther?” Katie asked. She had an entourage of three girls beside her who all looked bored with having to come and talk to Bekah, even with Marigold as a novelty.

“She sent a letter earlier this week. She seems good, settled.” Bekah gave a brief reply.

“I thought for sure her and Abel were destined to be together.”

“Ja, well it wasn’t meant to be.”

“I suppose not, Abel was always a bit of an odd duck,” Katie said, turning to Marigold. “So, you got all dressed up for tonight.”

“Yes.” She smoothed her dress, self-conscious under the scrutiny. “Did you need something?”

Katie rolled her eyes at Marigold but then answered. “I came over to invite you and your mom over Thursday afternoon for a quilting circle.”

“That’s nice of you,” Bekah said slowly, as if trying to gauge Katie’s angle. “I’ll ask Mom, but I’m sure all three of us can come.”

“Great,” Katie said. “Well, have fun tonight. I know we will.” She gave them a smirk and the girls behind her snickered as they walked away.

“What in the world was that about?” Marigold asked.

“I have no clue. I mean, it isn’t unheard of to go to their home, Joshua and Abel have been friends forever, but I can’t think of a time Mom and I went to their place for social reasons.”

Before they could analyze it any longer, Joshua came over to them, pulling his hat off and running his hand though his blond hair. He had a conventionally cute look about him. Deep dimples, broad shoulders, blue eyes. He would be the quarterback on a high school football team; the one Tabby would be crazy over. The one Marigold would never be. She’d always been drawn to the books and brains boys, the ones with a messenger slung across their narrow shoulders, a crooked tie and skinny jeans.

“Is your night going well?” Joshua asked them.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day though,” said Marigold, having never sat so quietly for so long. After the three-hour church service and a few more hours here listening to the hymns being sung, her butt hurt in ways it never had before.

“Services can be long all right,” he said smiling at her. She didn’t want his attention, and looked at Bekah to say something.

“You were there this morning?” Bekah asked. “I didn’t see you.”

“Nah, I didn’t make it in time, but you were looking for me?” Joshua’s face opened into a grin. “And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I never said that.” Bekah didn’t recognize the nuances of flirting, and Marigold cringed at her short, flat answer.

“So you
do
like me?” Joshua tried again, and Marigold had to give the guy credit for trying. Bekah didn’t warm up until you got to know her. She remembered their first afternoon together; the conversation so short and packed with innuendo Marigold was lost.

“What are you getting at, Joshua?” Bekah asked, studying him more closely. On second thought maybe she’d been acting hard to get on purpose.

“Can I drive you home?” His eyes played with the same hope Marigold had seen the day before.

“Sure, Marigold and me both, right?” she asked, almost as if daring him to say no. Marigold knew the intentions of private buggy rides. She’d experienced it for herself the week before with Abel, when his lips met her lips, among other things.

“I can walk, don’t worry about me,” Marigold said quickly.

“You can’t walk alone,” Joshua said. “And of course I’m offering a ride to both of you. I don’t think Abel would like me leaving his girl all alone.”

“But you think he’d like you giving me a ride home?” Bekah challenged.

Joshua shrugged, suddenly looking younger than he was, a look of defeat, a look that said he and Bekah and Abel all knew more than Marigold did.

“Can we go now?” Bekah asked. “You know these Singings aren’t my thing.”

Marigold went to retrieve the empty plate that had held the lemon bars and as she walked through the barn, she watched Bekah and Joshua lean in close for soft-spoken words. She realized she knew nothing about the people around her, the memories they shared. It was obvious to her these two had history, however closed lipped Bekah wanted to be about it.

They drove home, everyone quiet. Marigold’s mind fell back on Abel, on the tone of his voice during the phone call.  On his lack of interest in her interests, and she contemplated how much they didn’t know about one another.

She watched Joshua silently take Bekah’s hand in his. Bekah didn’t hesitate or pull back, she let their hands rest between their legs, and fingers intertwined, a closeness between them clearly practiced.

It seemed like every relationship was more complicated than evident upon first glanc
e
.

chapter ten

Abel

He arrived for study group before anyone else the next afternoon. Abel loved the feel of the campus library. He found himself coming here most afternoons after class, never eager to return to the loud dorm. Abel would come with a thermos filled with black coffee and burrow in a leather chair with a newspaper, or reread some of the study material for the course.

The program had a lot to offer, but not exactly what he had expected to digest. He was light years ahead of the other students in terms of practical application of the business principles they were learning. Abel's weakness showed up in other ways. His impatience stemmed from his own misunderstanding of the social cues everyone else seemed to know automatically. It frustrated him to no end, but he was determined to find his place here.

If Marigold could hack it back home, he could do the same here.

"Hey, Abel," Jenna said coming up to the table wearing her classic Hyrulian attire. When a librarian pointed to the sword slung on her waist she assured him it was plastic.

“Gosh, everyone’s so paranoid around here,” she said.

“Well, I mean it
is
a college library and it isn’t Halloween or, you know, the sixteenth century,” he told her.

“Wow, okay, and since you wear clothing reminiscent of the eighteenth century, you’re really one to talk.”

“Point taken,” Abel said, signaling a cease-fire.

“So, are you pissy because the quiz today was killer?” she asked “Personally, I stayed up way too late on-line.” Her eyes looked at her phone, and she flashed it to Abel. 4:15. Jenna yawned and didn't try to hide it, a move no Amish man or woman would ever dream of doing. "Where's everyone else?"

Abel pointed to Lacey and Lily walking towards them, both dressed in blazers and button down shirts, looking like a power couple, even though Abel knew they weren't romantically involved. Lacey was more than interested in Jenna, proving opposites attract.

He and Marigold weren’t alike in every way, but they had
seemed
well suited for one another, at least on the outside. She wasn’t conservative like the Amish, but she was simple, intent on wearing old-fashioned clothing and accessories, ragged hemlines and lacy edges, which seemed to compliment his hand-stitched shirts and suspenders.

But things could change fast; Abel knew this all too well. Maybe they appeared a good match, but in reality were worlds apart. Marigold's voice on the phone, soft and sad, floated through his mind. He blinked it away, not needing any distractions today.

"Good, they’re here. Let's do this," Jenna said, plopping down next to him.

Once everyone settled in chairs, Lily spoke up. "So how do you think you did on the test? Because I know I bombed it.”

“Wow, Lily,” Lacey teased. “Eating some humble pie?”

“I know, I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” she said, suddenly struggling to keep it together. “I’m way over my head.”

The mood shifted with her honesty, and Lacey and Abel exchanged nervous glances, knowing Lily was on the verge of tears. Thankfully Jenna came to the rescue, “Well, I effed up too. Big time. I think Abel was right. It wasn’t just a general overview. It was like, very specific.”

“Even the true and false questions messed with me,” Lacey commiserated. “I had no idea we needed to memorize facts about gross domestic product and deregulation.”

“I know. I thought it would be hard, but like, not this hard.” Lily regained her composure and continued, “I mean I still think we need to go through Trape’s ‘trust-questionnaire’ but we also need to step up our game. Like, for reals.”

“How did you do, Abel?” Jenna asked.

“I think I did alright,” he answered modestly. He knew he had aced it, not a single question snagged him. Preparation was the key to success, and he’d clocked in plenty of hours studying. His brain was a sponge and he absorbed everything Trape dished.

“You two probably did better than us because you’re not prone to the distractions on campus,” Lacey said. “Like all the hotties.” He unabashedly looked Jenna’s way.

“Seriously, Lacey?” Jenna asked, but she smiled, like she didn’t really mind his attention. Able wasn’t exactly socially savvy here at Jamestown, but he could see the slight blush on Jenna’s checks, he noticed that she kept looking at Lacey the same way Marigold had looked at him.

“What if we went somewhere else to study then, without the distraction of campus?” Abel suggested.

“Good idea, Abel. Actually, my house is totally suited for this, I mean, unless you want to meet someplace else?” Lily asked. “But we have a full-time cook so I can guarantee better food than the dormitory vending machines.”

“No, that’s great,” Abel said, liking the idea of spending time at Marigold’s. He’d get to know her family, which he wanted to finagle anyways since she was spending so much time with his.

“Wanna meet there tomorrow?” Abel asked.

“Wow, look at our Amish-boy being all groupie-groupie,” Jenna teased.

Lacey joined in, “Yeah, you decided to take pity on our subpar intelligence and spend time with us on purpose?”

“You know, I’m not so obtuse. You must all be pretty smart yourselves to be here,” Abel deflected. “Lazy maybe, or distracted— but not subpar.”

“Awww, is that a compliment?” Jenna asked, covering her mouth in faux-shock.

“I think it is,” Lily said, equally feigning her surprise. “Which is a great segue.”

“And you’re all about segues,” Lacey chimed in quickly, making Abel, once again, feel out of sync with their humor.

“Obviously,” Lily quipped. “The next question is what is your greatest strength and weakness?”

“Easy,” Lacey said. “Strength? I’m crazy good at beer pong. And as for my weakness, clearly it’s Jenna.”

Not knowing what beer pong was, Abel scratched his head not knowing where to even begin with that.

“Seriously, Lacey,” Lily squeaked. “You’ve got to like, act PC.”

“I don’t mind,” Jenna said smiling. “I mean it’s kind of cute. Besides Lacey’s all talk and no follow through.”

“Hey, give me another chance to follow through before you start dogging me.” Lacey’s face flushed in embarrassment, revealing there was more to the story about what these two had or hadn’t done.

“Okay, I’ll give you another chance,” she said, winking at him. “Anyways, back to the questions. My strength is my ability to make boys like you weak in the knees, and my weakness is the fact I usually fall for said boys.”

The group smiled at Jenna’s admission. It made Abel wish Marigold was here, so he could make a move of his own … a move to make things right.

“Well, my strength is my ability to work an Excel spreadsheet like nobody’s business,” Lily said. “And my weakness, I guess, would be that I’m usually screwing up the grading curve for everyone else.”

“Grade curves for who, the dropouts?” Lacey said as the circle erupted in laughter.  “I didn’t know you had such a stellar sense of humor.”

“Agreed,” Abel said. “I mean
my grade
on the quiz is what is going to mess with the average, not the other way around.”

“So, what’s your answer, smarty-pants?” Lily said raising her eyebrows with a smirk on her face.

Abel twisted his lips considering, before answering confidently. “My strength is I have a lot of business experience. Weakness? That it means nothing in the real world.”

“We can help with that. We got loads of real world experience, right here,” Lacey said.

“Also, you know, Hyrulian experience,” Abel said, pointing to Jenna, which made everyone laugh again. Maybe he could do this, find his place with this group. In this world.

Marigold

The days passed quickly. Marigold fell into a routine with the household, and she found herself smiling so often the muscles in her mouth actually hurt. She hung laundry to dry on the line with Bekah and Mrs. Miller, Ruthie rolling in the thick green grass, Jakey sitting on a blanket clapping at nothing besides the birds chirping as they flew by.

Mr. Miller would come in the warm farmhouse kitchen for lunch each day, kissing his wife softly on the cheek, bowing his head and leading the table in prayer. Marigold would watch with her eyes slightly open, witnessing the stolen moment of solitude cover the table. These prayers didn't connect Marigold with the divine, but they did show her that there was more to life than the things she'd been taught.

She'd learned by example that school existed to prove how smart you were. Getting dressed was an opportunity to show off how much you'd accumulated in the form of designer shoes and bags. Christmas existed to buy back all the love you had forgotten to show over the last year. Mother-daughter bonding days were chances for her mother to dig and press and berate.

But here it was different. Not perfect of course, Marigold wasn't that naive. She knew Bekah and her parents had their differences. They thought Bekah should wait until she turned eighteen to take her kneeling vows, but Bekah wanted to take them now. And Mrs. Miller had a not-so-gentle tone she used when she was unhappy with something naughty Ruthie had done; an indiscretion Marigold thought deserved a simple verbal correction not an additional slap on the hand. Then there was Mr. Miller who seemed unable to shake talking about how much easier things would be if Abel were here.

Still, she couldn't help but think how lucky Bekah and Ruthie were to grow up hanging laundry with their mother. To pull fresh bread from the oven or carrots from the dirt. Everything they needed was at their fingertips: food, family, friends. Which is why she found it increasingly difficult to wrap her mind around Abel. He had everything right here, yet he chose to walk away.

"After we finish this, I'll have Mr. Miller hitch the buggy up and we can head to the Lapp’s house, okay girls? I just have to change, Ruthie smeared her jam covered fingers all over my apron."

"Why don't you let us finish while you freshen up? We'll clean up the little ones, too," Marigold offered.

"Thanks, dears, I could use a few minutes alone," Mrs. Miller said, patting Marigold and Bekah's shoulders as she walked back to the farmhouse.

"You ready for the quilting circle?" Bekah asked Marigold.

“I suppose so.” Marigold looked down at her knee length sundress. "You sure it's okay for me to wear my regular clothes over?"

"Ja, you look right good. The ladies there won't expect you to be dressed plain."

Marigold nodded, relieved. As comfortable as it had been to dress the part at church on Sunday, she didn't want to field the questions that had come with the choice. Once a week was enough.

After pinning up the final pair of pants to dry, she took Jakey in her arms and walked back to the house with Bekah and Ruthie to wash their faces before heading to Katie and Joshua's home. With the chore behind them, they could enjoy the day. Marigold itched to get her eyes on the quilt pattern the women here used.

The Lapp house was much smaller than the Miller's. It was modest and decorated in the same sparse fashion, but it was not even half the size.  She'd only been in one other Amish home, where the church service had been held. She'd learned that instead of having a church building or synagogue, the Amish held their services in homes, rotating each week, and they only held services three weeks of the month.

Standing in the entryway, Mrs. Lapp greeted them with smiles and handshakes as she introduced herself to Marigold. In the living room a large quilting loom had been set up and over a half dozen women already had needles in hand over the outstretched quilt. They raised their voices to greet them, and Marigold couldn't resist walking towards the women to get a closer look of the quilt.

"Do you quilt?" Mrs. Lapp asked Marigold while Mrs. Miller and Bekah situated Ruthie outside with the other children, and laid Jakey down for an afternoon nap in a spare bedroom.

"Not much," Marigold admitted. "I've always knit, I taught myself." Marigold remembered replaying YouTube videos as she clumsily held two needles in her perched hands. She'd been desperate to learn after seeing a woman in a coffee shop form a blanket from a ball of yarn. The idea of creating something useful, tangible …
real
… felt like magic. She'd always been in the shadows of her more talented siblings, but somehow Marigold knew she could do this. She could knit.

But quilting was something else.

"Have you tried?" Mrs. Lapp asked gently. Marigold looked up at the woman whose home she stood in. Mrs. Lapp wasn't pretty; she had the sort of face that even if covered in foundation and blush, her cheeks would always sag a bit, her nose a bit too bulbous for traditional beauty. But her eyes welcomed Marigold and put her at ease.

Being around women who didn't emphasize appearance was a welcome relief. She had never gone somewhere with her mother without the constant prodding and pecking about how she looked wrong, with a dress too short or too long or hair too wild or makeup too obvious. Marigold couldn't do anything right. But here? Here she was free.