SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (39 page)

After one long red light, we arrived safely at the main entrance to the mall. And there we sat in front of Penney’s, waiting for my mom to show up.

I tried desperately not to think about Mom’s initial reaction to my being here in the Zooks’ buggy. Knowing her, she’d be silently freaking out about it all the way home. Little Susie’s presence would keep the conversation at a low ebb…until we got home.

Levi turned to glance at Susie, resting in the backseat. “How are ya doin’ there, sister?”

She groaned. “I’ll be better when I get to Merry’s house.”

He glanced at me. “Why’s she wanna go home with you?”

I whispered, “I think the fall might’ve made her kind of confused.”

“Oh,” Levi said, nodding. “Susie’s real spunky—she’s always getting herself into scrapes.”

I remembered hearing about several of those incidents. “What else?”

Levi let the reins drop over his knees. “Well, once she fell off the hay wagon, and we nearly ran her over.”

A tiny giggle escaped from the backseat. I turned around. “Did
you
do that, Susie?”

Her eyes looked brighter now. “Tell about the time when that
alte Kuh
kicked over the milk bucket and stepped on my foot,” she said.

“That wasn’t funny, Susie,” he said. “Ol’ Bossy nearly broke your toe!”

Susie discarded the ice bag, letting it drop onto the floor of the buggy. “My head’s near froze,” she said.

The bump was still protruding. “Better keep the ice handy,”

I suggested, feeling a bit motherly toward her. “When your head warms up, you should put the ice back on. It’ll make the swelling go down.”

She nodded, then sat up slowly. “I still wanna go to your house.”

“What’s so special about my house?” I asked.

“I wanna see your twin. Faithie—the little girl you told me about.”

“Oh, you want to see
pictures
of Faithie?”

She smiled, pushing long, loose strands of hair away from her face. “Jah.” I spied a deep dimple in her left cheek.

I studied Levi then. “Will your mother mind if she comes?”

He shook his head. “I’ll head on home and tell her after I unload the market wagon. It’ll be about an hour and a half.”

Mom pulled into the parking lot just then. Susie waved to her from the back of the buggy. As I’d predicted, Mom looked startled. Quickly, she composed herself and turned the car into the first available spot.

She was getting out of the car when I noticed Jon Klein—with Lissa—coming out of the mall entrance. They were headed right for us!

I grabbed my shopping bag and hopped out of the buggy, turning my back to them. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t see me.

Levi reached into the backseat, lifting Susie out of the buggy. Her bare feet dangled out from under her long dress. She was holding the ice bag on her head again.

That’s when Mom came over.

Please, Lord, don’t let her say anything,
I prayed silently. And before she could speak, Levi started explaining things.

“Wouldja mind taking Susie home?” he asked. “She needs to lie down…get out of this heat.”

“Certainly,” Mom said, reaching for the little girl’s hand. “Come along, honey.” No one had to explain that travel by horse and buggy took much longer than by car. Besides, anyone could see by the size of Susie’s bump that she would feel better at home.

I stayed for a moment to thank Levi. That’s when I realized Jon and Lissa were standing on the opposite side of the buggy and witnessing the exchange between us.

“Merry?” Lissa said, looking completely aghast. “What’s going on?”

Jon looked equally surprised but wasn’t asking questions. Not now, at least. He had been quite verbal in the past, asking lots of questions about my interest in the Amish—even wondering why I wanted to spend so much time at the Zooks’. But that had been before school let out for the summer.

I had no choice but to entertain a round of introductions. So while Mom was getting Susie settled in the car, I introduced the Alliteration Wizard to the Amish farm boy. The moment would probably go down in history as the most awkward one of my life.

Both boys handled themselves well—Jon reaching out politely for Levi’s hand, and Levi accepting the handshake with genuine courtesy. It was Lissa who seemed the most bothered by the encounter. I knew by the way her eyebrows knit together, she was completely bewildered.

Glancing over at our car, I wished now that Mom had come back to make small talk. But she seemed to be waiting for me patiently in the driver’s seat. “Guess Mom’s ready to go,” I said, noting Lissa’s eyes growing wide as she surveyed the Amish buggy. I didn’t know why she was making such a big deal about this. After all, she’d seen Amish buggies before. Lots of times.

“I’ll see ya soon, Merry,” said Levi, wearing an enormous grin. “After supper, maybe?”

“Okay” was all I said.

It was next to impossible to ignore the curious look on Jon’s face as he began to piece the puzzle together. It was all I could do to keep from blurting out, “Say it with all
p
’s!” before I turned to go.

On the drive home, I showed Mom the outfit I’d purchased.

“Cute,” she said. And that was the end of that.

I could see she wasn’t in the mood for discussion. Evidently, I’d interrupted something important at home by calling her back too soon to get me. Or maybe she was upset at seeing me with Levi in his family buggy.
That
was probably the reason.

I tried not to make too much of it and thought instead of the moment when Jon extended his hand to Levi. It seemed so bizarre for the two of them to meet like that. And with Lissa observing the whole situation!

Thank goodness Mom didn’t pound me with questions about it. That is, not until Susie asked, “Didja know my brother is gonna get hitched up with ya, Merry?”

I wanted to melt into the dashboard.

“Then you won’t just be my far-off cousin, you’ll be my sister, too,” she explained from the backseat.

That’s when Mom cut loose with questions. She did it quite creatively, asking me leading questions in such a way as not to clue in little Miss Susie with the bump on her head. And the big mouth!

We made a pit stop at the nearest Burger King because by now I was famished. Susie insisted she wasn’t hungry, and Mom decided it was wise for her to wait. “A bad fall like that can knock the appetite right out of you,” she said, straight-faced.

I laughed a little. “Sounds like some wise old saying.”

She didn’t seem to find the humor in my remark. Then I knew I was
really
in for it—sooner or later.

When we arrived home, I steadied Susie as we climbed the long staircase to my bedroom. She seemed to be feeling better, and when I checked her forehead, the bump looked smaller.

Mom disappeared to her sewing room without saying much. Eventually, the dam would break, and she’d spill out her concerns about Levi. Again.

In my room, I made Susie relax on my bed. “How do you feel now?” I asked, anxious to know why she’d said Levi was going “to get hitched up” with me.

She grinned that adorable smile, creating a dimple…reminding me of Faithie. “I’m better,
Denki
.”

“Well, that’s good, because I was really worried about you.” I sat beside her on the edge of my bed, touching her long blond hair. Most of it had fallen out of the braids. I got up to find a brush, wondering how on earth to bring her back to the subject of her brother’s comment.

Susie didn’t seem too interested in having her hair put back in its usual little-girl Amish style. “Can I see the pictures now?” she asked.

“What if I fix your hair while you look at my scrapbook?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Jah!”

I tossed a hairbrush onto the bed and went to my walk-in closet to locate the powder-blue, silver-lined scrapbook—the one that recorded the first seven years of my life with Faithie.

“This is my all-time favorite scrapbook,” I said, handing it to her carefully.

She scooted up against the bed pillows and peered at the first page. “Ach, you two are so little here.” She stared at the first baby portrait. “Faithie looks smaller than you,” she said, her blue eyes filled with curiosity.

I nodded, continuing to braid Susie’s near waist–length hair. “Faithie was always small-boned. Everyone said she was tiny for her age. I never thought of her that way, though. Not until after she died.”

Slowly, Susie turned to the next page, making endearing comments about the baby twins—my sister and me—as she tiptoed, page by page, through Faithie’s short life.

I finished winding her braids around her head long before she finished with the scrapbook. Silently, I sat there, trying to forget what she’d said about Levi and me, letting her take her time gazing into my past.

Suddenly, she leaned forward. “Look, Merry, I see a dimple. Faithie had a dimple just like mine!” She smiled, searching with her pointer finger for the indentation on her own face. “Faithie and I match.”

“You’re right,” I said, realizing there were other similarities between them. Faithie had always been delicate like Susie. And she had fit the role and temperament of the baby of the family even though she was really the
older
twin—by about twenty minutes.

There was something else, too. Faithie had always looked up to me. The way Susie seemed to today.

She closed the scrapbook. “I loved seeing this, Merry,” she said softly. “We Amish don’t make pictures of ourselves, ya know. But aren’tcha glad ya have these?” Glints of tears sparkled in the corner of her eyes.

“Yes, I’m
very
glad.” Lovingly, I held Susie as she cried soft, sad tears for my sister.

After a long, tender moment, the girl sat up and wiped her eyes. “
Dat
and
Mam
don’t ever cry out loud for dead folk,” she said.

I understood something about what she was saying. The Amish believed that God allowed people to live just until their work on earth was done. Death was accepted as simply an aspect of life. The patchwork quilt of Amish life consisted of birth, maturity, baptism, marriage, children—lots of them—and death.

“It’s like the crops,” Susie remarked, sounding older than her six and a half years. “We plant and water, then the weeding comes, and then the harvest. After that, the dried-up plant goes back into the soil. When someone dies, they get put back in the ground, too.”

I knew that Susie’s remarks were a result of her Amish training, yet I marveled at her perception of life. I must admit, I didn’t agree with it, though. How could I possibly believe that Faithie’s work on earth had been finished? She was only seven when she died, for pete’s sake!

Carefully, I put my scrapbook away, but now Susie wanted to look at my pictures on the wall opposite my antique dresser and desk.

“You’re looking at what I consider to be my best photography,” I said.

She liked the scenery best. That’s what she was used to seeing on calendars and wall-hangings at her house. Since the Amish didn’t believe in being photographed, only farmscapes and nature were acceptable.

After she had surveyed each one of my framed pictures, I offered her something to drink.

“Jah, some milk,” she said, and we went downstairs to the kitchen together. My cats—all four of them—were having their afternoon snack. Compliments of Mom, who’d made herself quite scarce.

“Do ya like Bible names?” Susie asked, watching the cats lap up the cream from the Zooks’ dairy.

I wondered if she was thinking about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—three of my cats. “You mean my three Hebrew felines?”

She giggled. “Ach, such funny names for cats, don’tcha think?”

I nodded, opening the strawberry-shaped cookie jar. “Want a cookie?”

“Denki,” she said politely.

I took a handful of Mom’s chocolate chip cookies out of the cookie jar, placed them on a small plate, and carried it to the kitchen table.

“Do you feel well enough to walk home?” I asked while pouring milk for her. “I can walk over with you if you like.”

She looked up at me with her milky white mustache. “Oh, will ya?” she pleaded as though it meant the world to her. “And can we take the shortcut—through the willows?”

I chuckled. “Okay.”

“Then will ya come tonight after supper?” Her cheery, round dollface burst into a wide grin. Leaning close, she whispered, “We can catch lightning bugs.”

“Only if you feel up to it,” I said, inspecting her forehead. “How’s your bump now?”

“Much better.” She blinked her saucer eyes.

I felt surprisingly warm and comfortable playing this big-sisterly role to Susie Zook, the youngest of our Amish neighbors.

After supper, I started cleaning up the kitchen, coaxing my brother to help. Having Skip around was a surefire safeguard. For one thing, I was pretty sure Mom wouldn’t launch off on something about Levi and me with Skip hanging around. Besides, even if she did, Skip would probably turn the conversation away from Levi to someone else. Like maybe
his
current romantic interest, none other than Jon Klein’s older sister Nikki.

Since Dad was working late at the hospital, I couldn’t count on him as my ally. It was interesting the way Dad viewed this thing with Levi and me. I remembered the first time I’d asked Mom and Dad about going out with Levi Zook. A really weird, blank expression landed on Dad’s face, and I thought for sure all hope was gone. Mom too. Only
her
facial statement remained the same. Later, after Dad discussed the subject in such a lighthearted, casual manner, Mom started to come around. Just a little. I can’t actually say she’d given me the green light, but after I assured her I had no plans to turn Amish, she seemed to relax.