Martha had never been so nervous preparing a meal for other people. Sheryl, of course, was coming, and she had invited Gary, as well as a waitress from work, Laura. Laura had been friendly to Martha ever since she’d started working there, and lived nearby. She had confided to Martha that she was lonely, so Martha thought that Laura would enjoy coming for dinner.
The six layer dinner was coming along nicely, but Martha was having trouble with the desserts. She had made an Applesauce Cake and a Chocolate Pie. Yet, when she started making the Applesauce Cake, the sugar and the shortening did not cream well at all. Likewise, with the Chocolate Pie, the cream cheese and the sugar seemed to be a funny texture.
Martha just couldn’t figure out the problem. She had never had a cooking problem before, but then again, her mudder and her schweschders had always been there to help. Now she was on her own. Martha fought back the urge to cry. You’re being silly, she silently scolded herself. Pull yourself together. That was what Mrs. Miller always said, and it made Martha smile.
The Chocolate Pie was in the refrigerator, and the Applesauce Cake was prepared ahead, and was also in the refrigerator, as Martha intended to take it out and bake it just as she was about to serve the six layer dinner.
Martha hurried around with the vacuum cleaner. She was used to a small battery-operated vacuum cleaner for her parents’ sofas, but Sheryl had a big vacuum cleaner that Martha found far more effective than a straw broom on the polished wooden floors. Sheryl wasn’t the tidiest person either, so Martha worked hard making the apartment look spic and span for her guests.
When Martha turned off the vacuum cleaner, she heard her cell phone, but she had no idea where she’d left it. She finally found it in the kitchen, but it had stopped ringing by then. She picked it up and saw she had a missed call from Sheryl. Just then Sheryl called again, the ring tone startling Martha. “Sheryl!” Martha’s voice came out like a screech.
Sheryl came straight to the point. “Look, Martha, you know how I said to feel free to use my flour and sugar and stuff for dinner tonight?”
Martha nodded and then realized that Sheryl could not see her. “Yes.”
“Okay, well, I forgot to tell you something. I have sugar in the container marked Salt and salt in the one marked Sugar. Hello, Martha, are you there, hello? But the flour is in the Flour container, so don’t worry about that. I keep meaning to change them over, but I keep forgetting. Anyway, I’ll be home soon.” Sheryl hung up without another word.
Martha was speechless. She hurried to the refrigerator and carefully took out the two pies. She took a teaspoon and scooped out a little piece of the Chocolate Pie. It tasted like salt. She tried the Applesauce Cake. To her dismay, it tasted like salt too. For a moment Martha was annoyed with Sheryl, but after all, Sheryl had no idea how to bake and probably had no idea how long food took to prepare.
What was she to do? There was no time to prepare anything else, and just the six layer dinner by itself would hardly be satisfying. I wanted to be an Englischer, Martha thought, and my first attempt at having people for dinner, and look what’s happened. She threw the pies in the trash, and then tried to figure out what to do next. There was barely any sugar left. In fact, there wouldn’t even have been enough to use for the two pies she’d already made.
She sighed aloud as her cell phone rang again. “What is it, Sheryl?”
“Martha, it’s me.”
“Moses! Oh sorry, I forgot you said you would call me once a week.” Martha immediately felt bad for saying that, so tried to cover up. “Sorry, that came out wrongly,” she said quickly, her words tumbling one over the other. “I’m just a bit stressed. I made two pies for dessert, but Sheryl just called and said that she had the salt in the sugar container, so I’ve just had to throw the pies out. My guests will be here soon and I don’t have any dessert.”
“Just wait a moment, can you, Martha?”
“Sure.”
Moses returned to the phone. “I’m in my mudder’s store, not far away at all, and Mamm has a Shoo-fly pie here. She said you can have it.”
Martha made to protest, but Moses was still speaking. “I’ll be right there. We’re just leaving.”
Martha thanked Moses but he’d already hung up. “Thank you, Gott,” she said aloud, looking up at the ceiling. Martha hurried to the bathroom to apply make-up the way Sheryl had shown her. Sheryl continually encouraged Martha to use her make-up, and Martha had started to wear a little make-up to work. Now she applied a mineral face primer, followed by a light foam foundation. She sucked in her cheeks and brushed on the bronzer, but put on too much, so she had to scrub most of it off.
Sheryl had tried to encourage Martha to wear mascara, but her lashes were already long and dark, and the mascara made Martha’s eyes sore. She put the tube of mascara back in the box, but took out some dark brown eye shadow, and applied it to fill in her eyebrows. Then she brushed her long hair. Sheryl would have wanted her to use the curling iron, but Martha wasn’t quite ready to try that by herself just yet.
Martha carefully put on the dress that Sheryl had laid out for her to wear. Sheryl had described it as a Valentino, fit-and-flare, double-knit dress, but all Martha could see was that it was bright red. The brightest color Martha had ever worn in her life was purple, a subdued purple at that, and even the sky blue dress she had worn to dinner with Gary could be called muted by comparison.
Oh well, I’m an Englischer now, Martha told herself as she slipped the dress over her head. Nevertheless, when she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror, she felt somewhat guilty. The dress fell to her knees, but the material a few inches above her knees was lace, so her legs could still be seen. At least the crew neck line was modest, despite the lace panel on the neckline. The sleeves were short. The rib-knit banding at intervals down the dress ensured that the dress clung to her figure, and while it was not too tight, it was certainly far more figure hugging than an Amish girl was used to.
Martha jumped when she heard a knock on the door, so hurried over to open it. Moses was standing in the doorway, and his jaw dropped open at the sight of her. “Martha! You look, um, great.”
“Thank you, Moses.” Martha was a little embarrassed, and so spoke formally. Her community was not in the habit of complimenting anyone, but she realized that Moses must be quite surprised to see her in Englischer clothes for the first time. “Come in.”
Moses was still standing in the doorway. “I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”
Martha had no idea what he was talking about. “But I’ve always worn dresses,” she protested.
“Not like that.” Moses’s jaw was still hanging open. He walked in and Martha looked behind him.
“Where’s your mudder?”
“She kept going. I’ll get a taxi home.” He handed the pie to Martha.
“Denki, denki so much.” Martha smiled. “That was so good of you to come to my rescue.”
“I’ll always come to your rescue, Martha.” Moses smiled at her, and her heart leaped in response.
“Stay for dinner,” she said on impulse.
Moses looked embarrassed. Little red patches formed on his tanned cheeks. “Nee, I couldn’t really.”
“Oh please, Moses. There’s only my roommate, Sheryl, and two other people. It would be great if you could stay. I’d like you to meet Sheryl. She’s been so kind to me. She’s always lending me stuff, and she’s very nice.”
Moses looked doubtful, so Martha added, “Please, Moses, and you’re catching a taxi home anyway. It’s not as if your mudder’s out there waiting for you.”
Moses agreed—reluctantly, or so it seemed to Martha. She felt a little hurt.