For Sure & Certain (21 page)

“I don’t know anything, not about you, not about me, not about much. That’s why I’m staying here this weekend, at Jamestown.”

“It’s not about school work then?”

“No,” he said honestly. “It’s about wanting to give myself a chance to find out who I am. Who I want to be. I’m going out with my study group to a party tonight.”

“Lily too?” Wishing she hadn’t asked, she closed her eyes.

“She’ll be there, she’ll meet us here and we’ll all head over together.”

She could picture it too easily. A hot night in D.C., a party at the dorm, SILO cups, and Jell-O shots. Lily with her academics and SAT scores and short plaid skirt and button up shirt with the buttons undone.  Lily and Abel laughing over their professors inside jokes and doing keg stands and ducking into dimly lit hallways. She shook her head.

None of that was Abel. She wasn’t being fair.

“I hope you have a really good time, Abel. You deserve it, after working so hard at school.”

The phone was quiet and for a moment Marigold wondered if they had been disconnected, if the reception dropped. But his voice returned.

“Thank you, Marigold, for saying that.”

“You’re welcome, Abel.” She smiled sadly, then added, “You’re voice sounds so … you sound….” She tried again, “I like the sound of your voice.”

“I like the sound of yours too, Marigold. And thanks for calling. I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I just need—“

Marigold cut him off. “Abel, it’s okay. Have fun and I’ll see you soon, in a few weeks, okay?”

“Right.”

“Okay, have a good time, tell Lily hello for me.”

“Of course, and give my sisters hugs from me. I know Ruthie’s probably most upset.”

“It’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

“I won’t then.”

She hung up, before the conversation got muddled again. It felt better to leave on a good note, a tender one. Hanging up while his voice still rang smooth and sweet in her head, as her heart turned soft.

They could be hours apart, the divide of a lifetime between them, but somehow, she still believed in the idea of them. Together, again.

.

chapter twelve

Abel

Hanging up, a ball of emotion rose inside his throat. He wasn’t homesick, but a part of him, the part he didn’t completely understand, felt Marigold-sick and somehow, being with her was the only way he could feel better.

Knowing that wasn’t an option, he got ready for the party. Looking in the bathroom mirror, he set his hat down and parted his hair on the side, then slicked it back the way Marigold suggested. He put on a fresh shirt, light blue with white suspenders, navy pants, brown boots. Jenna had told him he was an Amish-hipster, and he always shook his head shyly, not knowing what it meant, but looking in the mirror now he felt confident. Somehow his Amish clothes didn’t look entirely out of place. He looked like himself.

Marigold had been so gentle on the phone. For some reason he expected backlash for his decision to stay, but she seemed to understand. She wasn’t pestering him into something he wasn’t, or they weren’t. She accepted him. It made him wish they were together tonight, not necessarily at his parents’ house, but here, in D.C., going on a date together.

This whole summer would have been different if she was with him, and maybe it was best this way. Without the distraction of her blond hair and wide eyes and soft skin and pink-lipped smile, he was free to focus on Jamestown. Focus on his future.

Jenna was lounging on Lacey’s bed in a sailor dress, like she lived here. Abel still hadn’t gotten used to the shock of a female in his bedroom.

Soon, Lily knocked on their door and the night could begin.

“What’s the deal with Sailor moon? Isn’t that like sacrilegious to throw around your loyalty like that?” Lily asked, plopping down next to Jenna.

“Whatever. I can be whatever I want, whenever I want. Ain’t nobody gonna hold me down!” She stood and did a short dance, proving her point.

“Wow,” Lacey said. “Now it’s Jenna who’s gone all gangsta on us.”

“You wish,” Jenna said, slapping Lacey on the butt. Abel looked away, embarrassed.

“Okay, so I got some tequila. What did you guys find?” Lily pulled a bottle from her backpack.

Lacey whistled, and then produced a handful of lollipops.

Lily bit her lip, scrunching up her face. “I don’t know, you guys are pretty hardcore. Maybe I’m all talk.”

“You don’t dabble with edibles?” Lacey said, unwrapping a sucker.

“I don’t know, I mean, tequila
and
weed? Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Lily said.

“There will be a keg at Johnny’s. Is beer more your speed?” Jenna asked, pouring herself an inch of tequila in a small plastic glass Lacey produced, drinking fast.

“Nah, I can hold my own,” Lily said. “Just didn’t realize you guys were such partiers.”

“Abel, you cool with this?” Lacey asked handing him a shot of tequila.

“Sure, I’m Amish, not a Puritan.”

“Because there’s such a difference,” Lily said, laughing.

Abel grabbed a sucker from Lacey, sticking it in his mouth to avoid talking. Joshua had ruined hardcore partying for him during his Rumspringa, but maybe it would be different here. He wanted it to be.

Joshua was his best friend, sure, but after that night with Bekah, where she’d ended up throwing up all over his buggy, half dressed, where he’d had to shake her back into consciousness, after Joshua mixed her too many drinks, too fast, he had sworn off doing any of that with his old crew. He’d made Joshua swear to never lay a hand on his sister or invite her to another party. He’d made a vow to himself to never do that within his community again. Bekah could have gotten hurt.

He’d heard the horror stories of Amish girls on Rumspringa being rushed to the hospital to get their stomachs pumped. Or girls terrified of a pregnancy after a weekend of binge drinking and partying, rushing into making marriage vows or finding a clinic to help them with decisions they would live with forever. He didn’t want any of that for his little sister.

Tonight those worries were far from him. Now, he had a chance to have fun without the fear of keeping the people he loved safe. They all were soundly at his parents’ house. Marigold and Bekah probably dishing up dessert, maybe a rhubarb pie, and settling in for an evening on the front porch with embroidery or crochet hooks.

He smiled at his new friends. Jenna clinked glasses with Lily as they both took another shot. Lacey cranked up the music and they all had another round before heading across campus to the party.

***

It was loud. Not like the shed Joshua liked to party at, where the Amish girls he grew up with would put on jeans and pass around Smirnoff’s and listen to out-of-date rap on an iPod someone had spent their summer savings on. They’d spent their nights trying so hard to rebel, awkwardly posing as people they didn’t know if they really wanted to be.

Esther would come by, hanging on Abel’s arm, pulling him outside to the woods, where she’d kiss him. Where she’d let his fingers touch the skin on her arms, her legs, her face. Different kisses than the ones he’s shared with Marigold. Esther and him had always been intentionally intense, as if they wanted the experience to be like everyone else, to be apart of the group. To push the limits because they finally could.

Marigold had been effortless.

She seemed to know exactly who she was, which made everything more confusing when he’d seen the videos, heard the stories from Lily. He pushed those thoughts from his mind, and snaked his way through the crowd of people. Apparently it was Johnny’s party … a guy none of them knew, but he’d invited everyone to come. Lacey had warned him it might be lame considering the only people on campus were the ones doing the summer semester, but he was wrong. The house was packed.

“This way, Abel,” Lacey shouted.

Abel followed his voice into a back living room where alcohol lined a coffee table. Guys hung around the perimeter of the room holding plastic red glasses, and girls sashayed in the middle, grinding on one another in a way Abel had only recently seen in music videos Jenna had showed him on her laptop.

His back stiffened with the sensory overload. Reaching for the cup Lacey pressed in his hands, he was grateful to have something to hold onto.

“Drink this. Man, you look like a deer in the headlights.”

Even though he’d never been behind a wheel,
deer in the headlights
was an analogy he understood. He took the beer, drinking quickly, as blood rushed to his head. His shoulders relaxed and he was able to look around slowly and take in the room. Loud music blared overhead, and Abel allowed himself to move his head to the beat. Jenna and Lily made their way to the center of the crowd, laughing with two guys he’d never seen before.

A girl saddled up to Abel, smiling drunkenly. “Sup, cutie? Wanna dance?” she grabbed Abel’s hands before he could resist. She pulled his arms around her waist and inched her way up and down him, her chest pressed against him as she moved. Abel smiled, not altogether unappreciative of her movements, but also knowing it wasn’t his speed. He moved his hands from her, and smiled before walking away.

After pouring another beer, he hung out with Lacey on the deck, laughing as guys played beer pong and girls attempted keg stands. He wasn’t appalled, but he preferred to remain on the fringe.

A few hours later, he stumbled back to the dorm with his three friends. With Lacey’s help, they made sure the stumbling Jenna and Lily found themselves tucked in for the night in Jenna’s room. Lacey jammed a towel under the doorframe and pulled out his bong. Abel took a few hits before sliding off his boots and slipping into sleep.

He’d found his place and he slept in peace.

Marigold

She flipped over the simple sign hanging on the door. 
Open.
The first day of official business in the yarn shop she’d created with Mrs. Miller’s guidance.

“Do you think anyone will come?”

Bekah twisted her lips before answering. “We put a sign at the end of the lane, and I told some friends at church, but I’m not sure.”

“If it’s a bust will your mom be mad?” Marigold straightened the already straight items on the table where the moneybox and receipt book sat.

“Mom loves you. There’s no way this shop not working out would ruin that.”

“You think?”

Bekah rolled her eyes. “You know that.”

Marigold nodded, relieved at hearing Bekah state it so simply. She knew the Millers had taken her under their wing and treated her as a member of the family, but she still worried she’d disappointment them. That they’d change their mind about her, about extending her as much grace in this situation as they had.

“You all set then?” Bekah asked, picking non-existent lint from the sleeve of her light purple dress.

“I think so, but I’m nervous.” Marigold retied her apron strings, over thinking everything about her appearance on the opening day. Hopefully some Amish women would come by and shop, but they’d inevitably ask questions. She’d prepared herself for this, but still, she felt tense.

Thoughtful of the values of the community, Marigold wore the simple blue dress she’d sewn with the help of Mrs. Miller. The sleeves were above her elbows, the hem hit her calf, and her hair was wrapped in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. The simplicity of her appearance allowed her to focus on the day ahead.

“Rightly so, Marigold. You’ve never had a shop before.” Bekah moved to leave, having her own morning chores to take care of. “But you’ll do great, and even if you don’t, it’s okay. You’ve got to start somewhere.”

Bekah left the shed and Marigold took up the broom in her hand once more, sweeping the already clean walkways in the shop and then stopped to water the greenery right outside the door.

She smiled at the many marigold plants Mr. Miller had his crew plant for her outside the yarn shed. It was the little things everyone in the Miller family did for her that made her feel considered.

Once done with the unnecessary sweeping, and knowing Mrs. Miller was busy with her little ones until nap time, Marigold sat in the rocker inside the shed with her knitting needles.

The quilting party earlier in the month had inspired her to begin piecing her knits together in a new way. She’d been surprised at the bold arrangements of color and the modern, geometric designs in many of the patterns Mrs. Lapp had shown her. Although Katie had chosen a more traditional quilt with the Lonestar in the center, many other designs used bold color blocking with black backgrounds. Marigold easily imagined a pattern that would incorporate these concepts with something she was much more versed in.

Quilting, though something she was good at, was not her first love. Ever since Marigold had taken an interest in the more traditional arts, knitting needles had replaced her iPhone. She never had the slightest itch to go back to the old ways, the old habits that used to occupy so much of her energy.

Sitting in the rocking chair, she continued to work with the bulky white yarn Mrs. Miller had dyed. This weight of yarn was ultimate for making fast knits, at two stitches per inch, but that wasn’t why Marigold used it. She found that the fuzzy yarn created an almost cloudy effect, and when paired with an extra fine lace weight yarn in black along the border, the result was a stormy sky. The blanket, when finished would be ideal for wrapping up with on a blustery night.

The project in her lap was different than the traditional shawls, socks and blankets she’d made before. She knew she could come up with even more unique combinations of color and weight. Remembering a weaving she’d seen at an art gallery, where an artist had used a loom to create a wall hanging, she had an idea. Looking around the shed, where the rows of colorful yarn covered the walls, inspiration bubbled inside of her. The possibilities were endless.

***

That night at dinner Mr. Miller was tired as usual, but he thoughtfully asked Marigold about the first day in the shop now positioned behind his farmhouse.

“Not great,” she admitted, adding a scoop of coleslaw to her plate of spare ribs. “Honestly, we had about three customers, and I know for a fact those women don’t knit, they came because they were invited. Which is fine, of course, I just don’t want your family to pay me a wage if there isn’t any revenue.”

Mr. Miller smiled, “Tis okay, Marigold. It’s a lesson in commerce for all of us.”

Marigold knew the family was very well off in comparison to the neighbors, but it felt like charity. Nodding her thanks, she felt Bekah’s hand squeeze hers.

“It will work out. You’re here for a reason, don’t you think?”

“I believe so, Bekah,” Marigold answered, her eyes filled with tears, ones she quickly blinked away. “I’m so grateful to you all.”

Baby Jacob banged his plastic plate against the tray of his high chair, and clapped his hands.

“It seems Jakey here is grateful for you as well,” Ruthie said, picking up her younger brother’s dish. “But no throwing, brother. It’s messy.” She pointed her finger at him in mock correction.