Rum Spring (7 page)

Dylan tilted the book in Willie’s hands so she could read the title. “That explains why you’re so riveted on A Tale of Two Cities. ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.’”

Willie used her finger to mark the page she was reading and closed her book. “Speaking of the best of times, how was your weekend with Rebecca?”

“It started out inauspiciously. We went to a hoedown, she got blitzed, and she nearly threw up on me.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“It wasn’t so bad. We went back to my house and talked things out. Then I stayed up half the night watching her sleep.” Dylan checked her watch to see how much of her fifteen-minute break remained. Ten minutes. Plenty of time. She pulled up a chair and sat next to Willie.

“At any point in the evening, did you take the time to tell Rebecca you’re a card-carrying lesbian?”

“I haven’t done anything to earn my card yet. I’m still a big old virgin just like you.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Are you trying to tell me you finally made it with the Anderson twins?”

“No, but it’s just a matter of time.”

“Right. To answer your question, yes, I told Rebecca that I’m a lesbian. I did that before the evening started, thank you very much. I wanted her to know what she was getting into.”

“And that you wanted to get into her?”

“I’ll be so happy when you finally grow out of your adolescent phase.”

“Coming soon to a theater near you. What happened when you told Rebecca? Did she run screaming for the hills? Or is it the farm?”

“Neither one.”

“She was okay with it?”

“She was more than okay. She kissed me.”

“Shut up. She kissed you? On the lips?”

“More than once.”

“Are we talking a ‘Hello, how are you?’ kind of kiss or a ‘Hey, sailor’ kind of kiss?”

“It was more like an ‘I think I like you but I don’t know what the hell I’m doing’ kind of kiss.”

Willie nodded in commiseration. “Yeah, that’s usually the kind I get. So is she going to see you again or is her science experiment over?”

“We’ve made a date for next weekend to see the Phillies play the Dodgers. Dad bought the tickets this morning. He got great seats, too. Close to Harry the K’s restaurant with a clear view of the field.”

“You bitch. I hate you.”

“I was going to say I popped for an extra ticket and you could come with if you want, but—”

“I love you, Mahoney.”

“You say that to all the girls.”

“Isn’t that what horny teenage bois are supposed to do? But, seriously, D. I hope you know what you’re doing. Please tell me you’re just having a good time and there are no thoughts of fairy-tale endings running around that head of yours.”

Dylan patted the whirring projector. “We’re in the movie business, Willie. Don’t you believe in happily ever after?”

“Tobias is here,” Rebecca’s mother said, looking out the front window. “Look, Papa. See how clean his horse and buggy are. He reminds me of you when you were his age.”

Her father moved his pipe from one side of his mouth to the other. He held a lit match over the pipe’s bowl and inhaled until the tobacco began to emit a steady stream of smoke. “I certainly hope not.” He blew out the match. “If he does, Rebecca will have to stay home tonight.”

“You’re riding to the sing with Tobias Hershberger?” Sarah asked. She, Joshua, and Isaiah had come to visit after church and had not yet returned home. “Are you going to pair up with him tonight?”

At a sing, boys and girls from congregations in neighboring districts sat on opposite sides of a long table. Each person took turns selecting a hymn, the more solemn songs ignored in favor of those with a faster pace. The boys and girls conversed between songs. A boy who did not have a girlfriend paired up with a girl who was also unattached. After the sing ended, the boy—who had ridden to the sing accompanied by his sister or one of his sister’s friends—drove his prospective girlfriend home in his courting buggy.

“Sarah, leave your sister in peace. You know such questions are not encouraged.”

“I’m sorry, Papa.”

Rebecca tied her cape around her shoulders when she heard Esther bounding up the front steps. “I’ll be going now.” She could feel everyone’s eyes upon her as she walked to the door. Was it too late to change her mind? Perhaps Uncle Amos had the right idea after all.

Tobias Hershberger touched his fingers to the brim of his straw hat. “Good evening, Rebecca.”

“Good evening, Tobias.”

“Would you like to sit in the middle next to Tobias or would you prefer to sit next to the road?” Esther asked.

Rebecca looked up at Tobias’s earnest face and lowered her eyes. “Sit next to your brother, Esther. I’ll take the outside seat.”

Esther climbed into the buggy. Rebecca followed her. Tobias waited for them to settle into their seats.

“Giddap!” he said with a click of his tongue. He lightly flicked the reins against his horse’s haunches, stirring the animal into motion.

The horse trotted down the driveway and headed for the road as if it knew where it was going. Perhaps it did. Sunday sings were traditionally held in the same home that hosted the day’s services. The horse was being asked to repeat the journey it had made that morning.

Rebecca sat with her hands folded in her lap. She looked down at her laced fingers and was immediately reminded of her time with Dylan. Sitting in Dylan’s car on the side of the road. Holding hands. Listening while Dylan revealed her innermost secrets. She was thankful Dylan had shared something so personal with her. And grateful for her friendship.

Esther leaned to whisper in Rebecca’s ear. “Is there a reason for the smile I see on your face?”

“Yes, someone is the cause.”

“Someone I know?”

“Yes,” Rebecca said, allowing Esther to believe the someone was Tobias.

Now she had a secret of her own.

Chapter Three

Rebecca clutched Dylan’s hand and glued herself to Dylan’s side. The stadium had a capacity of over forty-five thousand. Most of the seats were filled. Rebecca had never seen so many people gathered in one place at one time. The noise they made was deafening and the game had barely begun.

Dylan gave Rebecca’s hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

Rebecca looked up at the huge scoreboard suspended over her head. The Dodgers were up 1–0 in the bottom of the first inning. Mr. Mahoney had spent the top of the first trying to find a place to park in a lot that looked bigger than her father and Uncle Amos’s entire farm.

Dylan, Rebecca, and Willie took their seats while Mr. and Mrs. Mahoney made a trip to Harry the K’s for food and drinks.

“Dylan said you used to do some teaching. Is that true?”

Rebecca told herself not to stare at the silver hoop that pierced Willie’s left eyebrow, but her eyes kept returning to it like a moth to a flame. Even when she had stood in front of the Liberty Bell, the nearly three hundred-year-old symbol of freedom, she had been more fascinated by Willie’s unusual accessory than the storied crack she had heard so much about.

“I helped out,” Rebecca said. “I was never a teacher myself.”

“But if I asked you to teach me Pennsylvania Dutch, do you think you could?”

“Why would you want to learn that?”

“So I can finally understand what Dylan mutters under her breath when she’s pissed at me about something,” Willie said, taking a good-natured swipe at Dylan. “I love languages. The more, the better. I want to spend my junior year of college abroad. I keep trying to convince Dylan to come with me so we can take France by storm, but she seems to have found a reason to stay.”

Rebecca felt guilty. Was Dylan holding herself back because of her? She didn’t want to keep Dylan from fulfilling her dreams.

“How many languages do you speak, Dylan?”

“I know parts of six, but I’m fluent in three—English, Gaelic, and Spanish. My Pennsylvania Dutch is still spotty, but it’s a lot better than it used to be, thanks to you. My French and German are pretty good, but not as good as Willie’s.”

“How many languages do you speak, Willie?”

“Four, not including English. I know Spanish, French, German, and a little bit of Italian. Right now, I’m teaching myself American Sign Language. It’s just for fun but you never know when it might come in handy.”

“German and Pennsylvania Dutch are very similar, so I wouldn’t have very much to teach you.”

“Why don’t we give it a try and let me be the judge of that?”

Rebecca wanted Dylan’s friends to like her. She was overjoyed she and Willie were getting along so well. If Willie was serious about the lessons, Rebecca now had something else to look forward to. She rose with the rest of the crowd after the Phillies’ lead-off hitter smacked a home run to tie the game.

“How much are you planning on charging?” Dylan asked after they sat down again.

“Nothing.” Rebecca wouldn’t consider charging any of Dylan’s friends for any services rendered. And definitely not for something like this. If someone wanted to learn about her way of life, she would gladly show them for free.

“It’s pro bono,” Willie said.

“Kind of like charity work?” Dylan said.

“So that’s why she’s with you.”

“Ha ha.”

“Did someone order cheese steaks?” Mr. Mahoney handed a steaming sandwich and a bag of chips to each of the girls. Mrs. Mahoney passed out the drinks.

Rebecca picked up her sandwich. Her fingers sank into the soft roll as she bit into the layers of chopped steak, sautéed onions, and melted cheese.

“Careful,” Dylan said. “It’s hot.”

Before Dylan could complete her warning, intense heat hit the roof of Rebecca’s mouth. The melted cheese seared her soft palate as if it were molten lava turning hard pavement into bubbling tar.

“Here. Drink this.”

Rebecca sucked at the proffered straw and filled her mouth with ice-cold soda. She burped loudly after the carbonated liquid forced her stomach to expand.

“That was a good one, dude.” Willie raised her right hand, the palm facing Rebecca. “You’re not going to leave me hanging, are you?” She lifted Rebecca’s right hand and slapped their palms together. “That is what we English call a high five.”

“A high five?”

“It’s primarily used in team sports,” Dylan said. “To celebrate a good play or to pick up a teammate when she’s down.”

Rebecca looked at her hand as if it no longer belonged to her. She had been one of the smartest people in her school. In the real world, though, there was still much for her to learn.

“I’ll never get the hang of this.”

Rebecca pounded the steering wheel in frustration. She had just hit the gas instead of the brakes, causing the truck to veer off the road and lurch to a stop in a ditch.

“Sure you will. Like everything, it just takes a little practice. Remember, your right foot is the gas pedal and your left foot is the brake pedal. Right means…”

“Go,” Rebecca said, filling in the blank.

“And left means…”

“Stop.”

Dylan grinned. “See, it’s not as hard as you think. Ready to give it another try?”

Rebecca took a deep breath to slow her racing heart. “I think so.”

“Let me turn the truck around and we can have at it.”

Dylan climbed out of the passenger’s seat and walked around the truck while Rebecca slid over so she could take the wheel. Dylan put the truck in reverse and hit the gas but the truck didn’t move.

“Uh-oh.”

“What is it?” Rebecca asked.

Dylan stuck her head out the driver’s side window and hit the gas again. Rebecca heard the truck’s tires spin as they searched for purchase in the sandy soil.

“I think we’re stuck.”

Rebecca’s heart sank. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

“Relax, it’s not anyone’s fault.”

“What do we do?”

“I’ll call my dad. He can use our neighbor’s Hummer to pull us out.” Dylan patted her pockets, then her face turned bright red. “Crap.”

“What now?”

“I forgot my cell phone.”

Farmland stretched for miles but Rebecca didn’t know any of the owners. The nearest town was miles away. “So what do we do?”

“Wait until the cavalry shows up.”

Dylan got out of the truck, stepped on the front bumper, and sat on the hood. Rebecca followed suit.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“You just bought us even more time alone. Why would I be mad at you?”

“It can’t be easy for you having a friend who doesn’t know anything about the world. I can’t even drive ten feet without doing something wrong.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. No one’s perfect, Rebecca. When I was learning to parallel park, I spent three weeks flattening all the orange cones my parents set up. It got so bad I couldn’t even look at an ice cream cone without wanting to cry.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, I’m not. You can ask my parents when we get back.”

“If we get back, you mean.”

Dylan slipped her arm around Rebecca’s waist. “You don’t have to be scared. Nothing’s going to happen. And you’re not in trouble.”

Rebecca was scared. Petrified, even. What frightened her was not the thought of what might happen to her and Dylan if no one came along but the realization of how good it felt to have Dylan’s arm wrapped around her. To sit with her on a lazy summer day with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Dylan wanted to be more than her friend. Did Rebecca want the same thing?

“How was the sing last week?”

“It was okay.”

“Only okay?”

Rebecca had not told Dylan about the sing because talking about it would mean telling Dylan about Tobias. But Dylan deserved to know she wasn’t the only person who was pursuing her affections.

“Tobias Hershberger drove me home from the sing. Do you know what that means?”

“That he’s a nice guy?”

“It means he’s courting me.” Dylan stiffened and pulled her arm away, but Rebecca did not regret telling the truth. “Tobias is sweet on me. He has been for a while. He hasn’t told me so, but his sister says it’s true.”

“Perhaps he’s still trying to find a way to say what’s in his heart.”

Was Dylan talking about Tobias or herself?