SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (38 page)

I knew it would complicate things to let her know about my past friendship with Jon. And about our secret word game. “Everything’s fine,” I said, forcing a smile.

“You say that, Mer, but it seems to me you’ve been upset for a long time—since before school let out last month.” She paused, fingering the price tag on one of the outfits.

“Don’t worry, Liss.” I held up the blue-striped dress. “I think you’re right, this
is
definitely me.” And I flounced off to the dressing rooms to try it on.

When I went to pay for the outfit, Lissa was gone. Part of me was relieved. Even though Lissa and I were friends, she’d become a force to be reckoned with. And I was partly to blame for the conflict between us.

I’d stuck my neck out to help her escape her father’s abuse, and invited her to our church youth group. To make her feel more connected to the group, I’d introduced her to my friends—Jon Klein included. Losing
him
was my reward for being a good friend!

I waited in the cashier line while shoppers snatched up bargains around me. Typical for a Fourth-of-July weekend madness sale. To make matters worse, only one register was working. The other wore a handwritten sign that read
Out of Order
.

I stared at the sign and thought back to last night and the way my mom had laid into me at supper.
She
was out of order mentioning Levi Zook the way she had. Weeks ago, the next-to-oldest son of our Amish neighbors had asked me out, and against all my friends’ wishes—at church and at school—I had accepted. No one seemed to understand why I’d want to hang out with an Amish boy.

But they’d never met Levi. Not only was he drop-dead cute, he was responsible and solid. And a true gentleman.

But Mom didn’t seem to care about any of that. “Honestly, Merry,” she’d said, “you talk about the Amish as though they’re somehow better. Dressing plainly and driving buggies doesn’t make people closer to God.” There was a twinge of resentment in her voice.

I frowned, thinking back to the stressful kitchen scene. Dad had kept stirring his coffee—I knew by his movements that he was upset about the conflict, but he didn’t interfere. He also didn’t join Mom in commenting about me not using my head. That was Dad. Always cool and mostly collected when it came to his daughter. Not that he was partial to me, but I had a feeling that Dad was thinking ahead to next fall when I’d be the only kid left in the house. Skip, my older brother, was headed for college. And Faithie, my twin, had died of leukemia when she was seven.

I wanted to spout off—to tell Mom that just because she didn’t understand my Amish friends didn’t mean she should talk about them that way. After all, they were peace-loving, hardworking, obedient people. So what if they wanted to do without fancy clothes, cars, and electricity. Personally, I admired their lifestyle.

But I kept my mouth shut and stirred my iced tea. Like my dad, I believed that a soft answer—or none at all—dispelled anger. Especially in this case. It was plain to see that Mom was wound up, so there was no dealing with anything now.

The more I thought about Mom’s remarks, the more it seemed right for her to apologize. She was being totally unreasonable about Levi—thought I was spending too much time with a backward Amish farm boy, as she put it. Thought his philosophy of life was beginning to rub off on me.

What it added up to was this: My personal choices didn’t count. And worse, she’d implied that my judgment couldn’t be trusted.

The woman’s voice at the cash register brought me out of my daze, and I stepped up to the counter to pay for my new clothes. That’s when I realized I was starving. Stress always made me hungry.

After I put away my change, I made a beeline to the nearest fast-food place. It wasn’t far—just down the escalator to the first floor and around the corner. But there was such a crowd of shoppers that it took me longer than usual, and by the time I arrived, another long line awaited me.

Undaunted, I slipped into the back of the line behind some tall guy. Standing on tiptoes, I tried to see around him to read the menu. But my shopping bag must’ve bumped him, because suddenly I found myself staring up—into the face of Jon Klein!

“Mistress Merry,” Jon said, smiling. “What a nice surprise.”

I met his gaze with enthusiasm. “Imagine meeting you here.”

“Well, what’s with…” He paused, probably trying to think of another word starting with
w
.

“What’s wrong?” I smiled. It had been ages since the Alliteration Wizard and I had played our word game.

His brown eyes sparkled. “Guess I’m a little rusty.”

I wanted to shout “Hallelujah,” but succeeded in controlling myself. So…he
hadn’t
introduced Lissa to our special game. This was truly amazing!

“It’s been a while for me, too,” I said, referring to being out of practice. Now he would know I’d been loyal. Hadn’t played the Alliteration Game with Levi Zook, or anyone.

Jon caught the message. I could see the recognition in his eyes.

“I hope you’re going on the river hike next weekend,” he said.

“I can’t. My aunt and uncle are coming. They’re bringing their newborn twins.”

“Twins? Really?” He seemed surprised, and then I realized how very long it had been since we’d talked. I realized something else, too. Lissa had not been conveying anything about me to Jon.

Quickly, I filled him in on my life, leaving out certain private things such as the chunks of time I was spending with my Amish neighbors. Especially Levi and his sister Rachel.

“So how long will your relatives be in Lancaster?” he asked as the line moved.

“Just next weekend, I think.”

“We should get together and practice our word game sometime.” His smile sent my heart sailing, and I waited for him to say that he and Lissa had called it quits. But he didn’t.

The girl behind the counter said, “May I take your order, please?”

Jon stared up at the menu board. “I’ll have your Number Three Super Special and a large lemonade.” Then he turned to me and asked, “Can I buy you lunch?”

“No, but thanks anyway,” I said. It was probably a very wise choice on my part, because just then Lissa came breezing past the line.

“Hi again,” she said, spotting me.

“Oh, hi,” I managed to say.

Jon turned around, obviously happy to see her. “What’re you hungry for, Liss?”

“How ’bout a Number Three Super Special and a large lemonade.”

I stifled a sigh. Maybe they had more in common than I thought.

Jon was still smiling, only now at me. “Sure you won’t join us for lunch?”

“No, really,” I replied, my heart sinking fast. “I have tons more shopping to do. I’ll eat as I go.”

Jon nodded. “Say that with all
g
’s.”

Lissa frowned. “What’s that mean—say it with all
g
’s?” She looked first at me, then at Jon.

I excused myself and got out of there fast. Worried, I could only imagine the explanation Jon must’ve conjured up to cover his tracks.

Almost instantly, I changed my mind about shopping. And eating. I took out my cell phone, stomach still growling, and called home.

“But, Merry,” Mom argued, “it’s only been a little over an hour since I dropped you off. I thought you wanted to—”

“Please come get me.” I had to avoid running into Jon and Lissa again.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine.” I wished she wouldn’t interrogate me like this. “Just come, okay?”

“I’ll drop everything.” She sounded upset, as if I’d ruined her plans. “I’ll meet you at the bus stop in front of Penney’s, but it’ll take me about twenty minutes.”

“I know, Mom.” She didn’t have to remind me that we lived miles from civilization. On SummerHill Lane—a dirt road smack-dab in the middle of Pennsylvania Amish country.

Hanging up the phone, I glanced outside. I had time to grab a bite. But where? All the fast-food places were
inside
the mall.

I left through the heavy glass doors and took off walking, enjoying the hot July air. It was the clearest, brightest day of the summer so far. A great day to be outdoors. I thought of Lissa and Jon cooped up inside the mall having lunch. And I thought of Levi, probably working outside in his potato field. He would’ve already eaten lunch—a man-sized dinner, with fried ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a fat slice of his mother’s strawberry pie.

Levi…

What fun the past month had been. Far different from any June in my entire life, but fun. Levi had actually shown me how to cultivate, letting me hold the reins for two mules at once. And there’d been evening hours spent swinging on the rope in the hayloft or hanging out with Rachel, talking in soft voices until she and I fell back into the hay, giggling. Levi didn’t seem impressed with those moments of hilarity, but he put up with them. And why not? I was his girl, after all.

Levi and I were rarely ever alone, which was just as well, since I was worried his parents might think I was a bad influence.

One night Levi had hitched Apple, the family’s beautiful Belgian horse, to their hay wagon. Levi’s ten-year-old brother, Aaron, stayed up front with him, chewing on pieces of straw while I sat back in the hay with all four of his sisters. Rachel, almost sixteen, whispered secrets to me about one of the Yoder boys down SummerHill. Nancy, twelve, and Ella Mae, just turned nine, taught me how to sing “Amazing Grace” in German. And six-year-old Susie, the youngest Zook, showed me how to catch fireflies without smashing them.

We were like one big happy family. Distant cousins, really, because my great-great grandfather also had been Amish.

I pressed the red pedestrian button at the busy intersection and waited for the light to change. Across the street and halfway down the block, I could see an Amish road stand. There’d be carrots, strawberries, ripe melons, and much more. My mouth didn’t exactly water at the prospect of raw vegetables, but a handful of red-ripe strawberries might stop the grumbling in my stomach.

One by one, tourists drove by slowly, most of them gawking. Some had cameras poking out of their car windows. Others milled around, chatting with the girls running the stand.

When I arrived, I noticed a group of people hovering over a child lying in the grass behind the stand. I hurried to investigate.

That’s when I spotted Rachel Zook. She was holding something up to the little girl’s forehead. I moved in closer, trying to see over the group wearing white prayer caps and long black aprons atop even longer dresses. Then I caught a glimpse of the petite girl. Susie Zook!

I rushed to Rachel’s side. “What happened?”

Rachel looked surprised to see me. “Hello, Merry.” She didn’t answer my question, and there was a noticeable edge to her voice. Was she upset at me?

I brushed the thought aside. “Did Susie fall?” I persisted, kneeling beside Rachel’s sister.

Rachel threw up her hands. “
Ach, Der Herr sie gedankt
—thank the Lord she wasn’t killed! Susie was climbing that tree”—she pointed to a huge elm—“and, ach, if she didn’t up and fall out!”

“Knocked me silly,” Susie said, her voice trembling as she sat up.

Rachel nodded. “And now she’s all
stroovlich
.”

I could see what she meant. Susie’s blond braids had come loose, and her long rose-colored dress was ripped at the seam.

“Poor thing,” I whispered. “Can I help?”

Sad faced, Susie removed the ice to show me her bump. “It’s a goose egg,
jah
?” she said.

It was big all right. “Does it hurt?” I asked.

She nodded, tears welling up.

I leaned closer, inspecting her latest battle scar. “Better put the ice back on,” I said to Rachel.

Susie reached her hand up to me.
“Ich will mit dir Hehm geh,”
she said.

I held her hand in both of mine. “What’s she saying?”

Rachel looked worried but avoided my eyes at first. “She wants to go home with you.”

The Amish girl to my left leaned over and whispered, “I think she’s conked out of her head.”

A concussion? I hoped not.

Then I remembered my mom was on her way to meet me. Might even be waiting in front of Penney’s by now. “I could take Susie home,” I offered, “if there was some way to get her over to the mall.” I explained to Rachel that my mother was coming for me.

Rachel eyed the horse and buggy parked off the street. “Too bad you can’t take our buggy.”

I shook my head. “I’m not taking that through traffic.” Truth was, I’d never taken a horse and buggy anywhere. Sure, I’d ridden in one, but that was much different from actually driving one.

“I can take her,” said a familiar voice.

I turned around and there was Levi—eager to help, as always. Rachel explained about Susie’s fall and that she should be taken home, out of the heat. “It’ll be much quicker if she goes with Merry’s mother,” Rachel said.

“Jah, good idea.” Levi leaned down and gathered his little sister into his arms. With long, careful strides he carried her to the family buggy and gently laid her in the backseat.

Rachel and I followed close behind without talking. The silence between us was deafening.

I spotted Apple and the Zooks’ market wagon piled up with fresh produce Levi had brought to replenish the road stand. It struck me as curious that Old Order Amish were allowed to ride in a car but couldn’t own or drive one themselves.

“Come along, Merry,” Levi said, putting on his wide-brimmed straw hat. “You can show me where to meet your mother.” He glanced at the market wagon and at Rachel, who promptly left without saying good-bye, scurrying back to help at the road stand. Levi called to her, “I’ll come and unload the wagon after a bit.”

She nodded to him, avoiding my wave. It bugged me, this obvious problem between us. But what was it?

I got into the buggy on the street side, then scooted across to the left, where Amishwomen always sat. Levi got in, picked up the reins, and deftly drove Susie and me through the heavy weekend traffic. It seemed strange riding on a modern highway in the Zook carriage. We were somewhat enclosed inside the gray, boxlike buggy, and it helped take away some of the uneasy feeling.