Made with Love (12 page)

“Here, let me get that.” She bent down to retrieve it the same time he did. He moved more quickly, and as his head came back up again it hit her forehead.

“Oh!” the force nearly knocked Lovina off her feet. She staggered backward, but thankfully Noah's strong arms reached for her. He caught her up, pulling her toward him so she couldn't topple over.

Lovina's hands rested against his chest, and she felt the warmth of his skin seeping through his cotton shirt. He smelled of soap and the ocean breeze. His nearness made her even dizzier than the knock to her head.

His breath was warm on her cheek.

“Are you okay?”

“Ja, but I think…I think you're poking my arm.”

She glanced down and noticed the pencil in his hand poking into her forearm.

He jerked back, and the motion made her sway slightly again. He reached for her with the hand not holding the pencil, but she waved him away. “No, it's okay. I'm fine. Really.” She touched her kapp and straightened it. “I suppose everyone needs some sense knocked into them now and again.”

“Please, let me get some ice for that.” He pointed to the place where her hairline met her forehead, and she assumed there was going to be a bump.

“I don't need ice, but I wouldn't mind ice cream.” She settled into the chair as if nothing big had happened. Then she reached for the small wallet in her pocket.

Noah waved a hand her direction. “No, let me get it. What's your favorite flavor?”

“Pralines and cream, please.”

“Oh, you're that type of girl.” He rubbed the top of his head,
but she pretended not to notice. “It's my grandma's favorite ice cream too. She says it reminds her of simple home pleasures—nothing too fancy.”

“Ja, I suppose I am like that…not too fancy.”
Simple, plain, unlike my beautiful sisters
, she added to herself.

He walked to the ice cream counter, and she couldn't help but lean forward and take a look at the sketch in his book. There wasn't much to it. It looked as if he'd made a rough draft of the warehouse layout, including the offices. He'd marked the front half as
pie shop
and the back half as
storage
. He'd separated the two by the word
kitchen
.

Lovina's stomach tumbled as she read that word, and uneasiness came over her. Even if she could get the building…and even if Noah was willing to do the work in exchange for the items inside…and even if they could put some of those items for use in the shop, there would still be the expense for all the lighting, the tables, and the workstations. And then there was the cost of the kitchen. Lovina bit her lip and pushed the sketchbook back from her.

Why am I doing this? Why am I wasting our time?

She felt her kapp and straightened it, wondering what to do and what to say as Noah approached. He handed her a large, double scoop ice cream cone, and laughter burst from her lips.

“That's for me?” She shook her head. “I'll never be able to eat it all.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “It's ice cream.”

“Ja, but it's a lot of ice cream.”

“Here, hold this for a second.” He handed her his cone, which looked to be one scoop of mint chip and one of cookies and cream, and then walked off with hers.

She turned and watched as Noah handed the cone back to
the man behind the counter, saying something. A moment later the man handed back a much smaller cone and a small cup, filled with the ice cream he'd taken off the top. Noah returned and sat, handing her the cone in exchange for his. “That's much better,” she said. “But what are you going to do with the extra?”

Noah shrugged and looked at her as if he wondered if she really needed an answer. “I'm going to eat it.”

“Oh, I see.”

“It's ice cream, Lovina. I'm not sure you could ever get full eating ice cream.”

Lovina nodded in a way that told him she didn't agree.

She watched him take a big bite out of the top of his ice cream, and then he pressed a hand to his forehead as if he'd just gotten an ice cream headache. Then laughter burst from his lips. She looked up, surprised, and noticed the twinkle of humor in his blue eyes.

“What's so funny?”

“Well, for a second I realized I was trying to figure out which hurt worse, the ice cream headache or the bump on my head. If someone was ever wanting to make a horrible first impression this would be it.” He rubbed the top of his head and grimaced. “I think I'm going to have a bump up here for a while.”

“And I think I'm going to have a red spot.” She touched the tender spot on her forehead. “I know it's there. You don't have to try to convince me it's not. I can see that you keep looking at it.”

“Please forgive me.” His voice was warm. “I didn't see you going for my pencil…but you can say that's one way for me to bowl you over with my presentation.”

“Did you come here thinking you had to impress me?” She lifted one eyebrow. “Because I had a feeling I was coming here to convince you that my pie shop was a worthy endeavor.”

“I'm not sure I need much convincing. I need a job, mostly because I need to prove to this community that the young men I'm trying to help can put in a good day's work. But…” He flipped through some of his pages. “If I came feeling I had to impress, the answer is yes.” He flipped two more pages and then pushed the sketchbook closer to her.

Peering down at the page he'd opened to, Lovina's eyes widened. She'd expected the drawing to be similar to the one she'd first seen—the one that looked more like the blueprints that her father had used when erecting his barn. But that was only the beginning. On the next page he'd brought the image to life. In fact, it was as if Noah had been able to look into her head and sketch her dream. It was as if he'd been peeking into her notebook, even though she knew that was impossible.

Lovina tried to lick her cone the best she could, but her eyes were fixed on the sketched image before her.

It was a drawing of a shop with a long counter that greeted the customers as they entered the door. Where the pie counter ended, the tables began. What looked to be a white picket wooden fence separated the customer tables from a large work area.

“I love this. I can't believe you drew this. When did you have time?”

He shrugged. “It's nothing much. You were a little late so I just tried to picture the type of place I could see you in. This is it.”

Tears sprang to Lovina's eyes, and her throat tightened hot and thick. She tried to speak but no words came. A small squeak found its way out—the beginning of a cry.

Noah took one last bite of his cone, wiped his hands on a napkin, and leaned forward. “Lovina, are you okay?”

She nodded, still unable to talk. She looked to the picture again, and her lower lip trembled.

“Did I do something…” he hesitated. “Something to make you sad?”

“I'm so sorry,” she finally managed to say. “I've been wanting this, well, as long as I can remember. My parents, they listened, and my sisters…they mostly thought it was silly.” She waved a hand in front of her face as if wishing herself to calm. “And then for two years I worked as a teacher and I saved every penny. We moved here, and I talked to Jason at the bank, and he's the first one who really believed I could do it. But he didn't really like the warehouse, even though I feel—deep down—that it's right. And this morning, well, I felt God telling me to look, and then I did, and then I met you…” The words blubbered out, and she was sure that Noah Yoder must think she was the silliest woman he had met in his whole life. “And then you bring this, and…oh, Noah, how could you have known?”

He shrugged and offered her a small white paper napkin to wipe her eyes. She dabbed at them and then dared to look at him.

Tenderness mixed with confusion. “It's just a drawing,” he said.

“But you understand what I'm trying to accomplish. Other people have listened, but they didn't see the vision like you do.”

Noah reached across and placed his hand on hers. “I was just hoping you'd like it. I didn't expect a waterfall.”

She chuckled and shook her head. She pulled her hand away, grabbing another napkin to dot her eyes. Thankfully, she wasn't trying to impress him. Her eyes always got red and puffy when she cried, and she was sure she looked a mess.

“I'm glad you like what I sketched, but it's only a start. I'd like to go through your notebook to get more ideas, but I have a question first.”

Lovina took in a deep breath. “Ja?”

His face wore a serious look. “Do you mind if I order more ice cream?”

“More?” Her mouth gaped open. She knew he'd finished off his ice cream cone, but somewhere in the midst of her blubbering he'd finished off the cup of ice cream too.

Noah looked down sheepishly. “I didn't have time for lunch.”

“Well, you don't need more ice cream. What you need is…” She held up one finger. “Hold on. I'll be back in two minutes.” She left Big Olaf's and walked around the side of the building to Mike's pretzel stand.

Two Old Order Amish men stood in line, talking to Mike. They wore stiff, black hats and each of them had a pretzel in hand. Mike did most of his business in the winter months when the roads were filled with Amish men and women walking and riding on bicycles, but thankfully he braved the heat a few days a week in the summer and fall, serving anyone who happened by.

Mike glanced up at Lovina as she approached. He used to be in the masonry business, but when things slowed, he took up pretzel making. The two older men parted to let her through, and Lovina smiled and stepped up. “One pretzel, please.”

Mike handed it to her. “How's your dat's health?” he asked.

“
Gut
.” She handed him two dollar bills, smiling. “He went on a walk today, which shows an improvement.” She pointed her thumb behind her. “But I have a friend waiting.”

Mike tucked the money in his money box. “Waiting for the best pretzel he ever had?”

Lovina nodded and then paused. She cocked her head and looked to Mike. “How did you know my friend was a
he
?”

Mike chuckled. “I can see it in your eyes. That sparkle and such.”

Nods came from the two Old Order gentlemen on either side.

The pretzel smelled delicious. “Ja, well, I suppose he will like it very much.”

She returned to the ice cream shop and approached the table. Noah sniffed and then reached out a hand, accepting the gift.

“That looks delicious, thank you. I've seen that stand, but I've yet to try one.”

“Mike told me to tell you he's sure this will be the best you've ever had.”

Noah cocked an eyebrow. “Has he heard of Auntie Anne's? My driver says they're so popular they're all over the nation, even in airports. A business started by an Amish couple.”

“Ja, I actually know about them. My sister Grace is fascinated by small businesses that make it big. Dat says he used to ask her business advice when she was five, and she was always right. She's talked to Mike a few times about trying to expand his business, and he's been thinking about it. Personally I have been begging Mike for his recipe for a few months. He won't give in, but another friend, Fannie, gave me a recipe that makes one almost as good.”

“Do you do that often?” Noah asked.

“Do what?”

“Share recipes? Talk about food with your friends?” he asked, taking a bite of the pretzel.

“Ja. Food is what binds us together in so many ways.”

He tilted his head as if he was trying to understand.

“What are you thinking?” She pressed her lips together, wondering how she was able to talk to Noah so easily. Had it just been today that they'd met?

“You want to know what I'm thinking about,” he finally said. “Well, the truth is that my motives were to find work and to help the teens, but as we're talking…” His voice trailed off.

“What?” she asked, leaning closer.

“I believe in what you're doing. I really do. You're on to something, Lovina. I mean, people can make good food that others enjoy, but you want your pie shop to do more than that. You want to build a community. Maybe you can even have customers share their pie recipes too.”

She turned to the back of her notebook and jotted down the idea. “Oh! And I can choose one to serve as a special every month. I love that idea.”

As they talked Noah continued to add more to the sketch. Looking it over, he pulled colored pencils from a plastic bag. “I bought these, but I can't take them home.” Noah shook his head. “If I did, there would be no end to the teasing I'd receive from the guys.” She smiled, thinking of the teens asking Noah to color a picture for them. She'd seen the way they played around with each other earlier that day, and such antics were unfamiliar to her. She had male cousins, yes, but for the most part at family gatherings they stayed in the barn and the womenfolk stayed inside.