A cold rain fell from dreary skies as Abram drove the final nails into the tin roof of the small, well-ventilated woodshed that would house the new generator. The generator Skylar assured them they needed. It had to have a roof over it, but it couldn’t be installed in the café building due to exhaust fumes and safety hazards. He’d begun the project days ago when the weather was dry and had worked mostly after the café closed.
A horse and carriage turned from the side road onto the path between the back of the café and the small pasture where the workers’ horses were kept. His pulse quickened in anticipation of seeing Cilla, and he climbed down. After the incident last Saturday, she had been out sick for three days. Despite the buzz he felt over her return, his movements dragged. Fatigue had been his only saving grace. It dulled his emotions and numbed him to a degree. He’d felt this way since he’d learned that Ariana wasn’t his twin. Skylar’s presence had made it worse, and something was really up with her this week. But most of all, he’d been worried about Cilla since he’d witnessed how frail she was.
When the rig came to a halt, Abram realized Cilla wasn’t driving it. He went to the passenger’s side and opened the door. “Where’s Cilla?”
Barbie passed him a closed umbrella and stepped out. “Hey, Abram. She couldn’t come today.”
“Is she all right?” He opened the umbrella and held it over her.
“I think so.” Barbie unbuckled a latch. “She isn’t doing as well as she’d hoped, mostly because she’s an optimist, and she thought she’d be on her feet within a couple of days. After Saturday’s bout I didn’t think she would be up to coming to the café at all this week.”
“Why are you removing the rigging?”
“I’m here in her stead. She couldn’t stand one more day of the café not having enough help.”
“No. We’re good.” He passed her the umbrella and relatched the buckle she’d undone.
Barbie grabbed the buckle. “Aren’t you extremely busy and short-handed?”
“Ya, but we’ll be fine. It’s our problem. Not yours.”
She unbuckled it again, using one hand. “I know I’m not your favorite person, but Cilla was so upset about not being able to come that I gave her my word I’d fill in for her. She needs rest, and she’s not getting enough for fretting over not being here. So I gave her the answer she needed.”
Abram sighed and began removing the rigging from the horse. “Siblings.”
“Ain’t it the truth? Mamm had to argue with her again this morning, but her oxygen levels were just too low.”
“Tell her she should always stay home when she’s not feeling well.”
“She likes working at the café.”
“Ya, apparently she likes it enough to work without pay.”
Barbie laughed, but Abram hadn’t meant it as a joke. “She speaks fondly of you.”
He didn’t know what Barbie was getting at. Was she as surprised as Skylar that someone was interested in him? Skylar had clearly been surprised that Jackson talked to him as if he mattered. That was the kind of thing Ariana never doubted, even when he’d been more backward and withdrawn. Ariana had spent all last summer trying to help him think of ways to talk to Barbie, but now he just wanted her to be quiet.
He opened the back door to the café. “You looking forward to working seven hours for no pay?”
“I’m working to make Cilla be quiet and give me a break.” Barbie’s smile and raised eyebrow made it clear she was teasing. “That’s far more valuable than money.” She closed the umbrella.
When they walked inside, Abram saw the largest morning crowd yet. He’d been so busy working on the woodshed that he hadn’t realized what was happening in here. And Barbie had arrived an hour late.
The front of Skylar’s white shirt was covered with a brown stain. Foamy milk was spattered on and dripping from the countertop. Apparently her plan to add a frothy milk espresso to today’s menu, using a battery-powered frothing wand, wasn’t going as planned. She caught his eye and gestured, waving her hands in desperation.
“Right.” He hung his hat on a peg. “Skylar, this is Barbie, Cilla’s sister.” He removed his coat and held out his hand to take her coat. “Barbie, you help Skylar. She won’t hesitate to let you know what you need to do. I’m going to relieve Susie from running both grills.” As he stepped into the kitchen, he saw Martha was juggling multiple cooking jobs too. Abram washed his hands, put on a clean apron, and grabbed a spatula.
“Before you man the grill, get some bread on the tables.” Martha dumped a pan of biscuits into a huge basket. “If people have something to nibble on until their orders are ready, they’ll be happier with us.” Abram quickly filled four plates with biscuits, buttered toast, and jellies.
As he set them on the pick-up counter, Jackson grabbed them up. “What are you doing here, Jackson?”
He had that big, unfaltering grin in place. “Since it’s raining, there’s no roofing today. What happened was Skylar. I walked in, and she said that since I was your friend and you were busy trying to get the generator working, I needed to help.”
“Jackson,” Skylar scolded, “if you’re going to lie, at least do the job you’re lying about and be helpful.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jackson hurried off with the four plates balanced in his arms.
“Thank you,” Abram hollered.
“You’re welcome,” Jackson answered. He whispered something as he passed Skylar, and she smiled before glancing out the window. Over the last few days, she’d grown more interested by the hour in taking quick looks out the front window. Was she expecting someone? If so, apparently the person hadn’t come yet, because each day she grew antsier.
Jackson made an about-face and told Skylar, “We’ll need six warmups on table five fairly soon, please.”
“Thanks.” Skylar gave a thumbs-up and began brewing another pot of coffee. What would Jackson think when he learned that Skylar was Abram’s twin? It wasn’t something he or Skylar talked about with anyone, as if not discussing it kept it from being real. She hated it here, and he felt certain that Ariana was no happier inside Skylar’s old life.
Martha set more plates of breakfast food on the pick-up counter. “You go cook and fill orders, please.”
“Oh yeah.” Abram went to the grill and started filling orders. While focusing on cooking eggs and breakfast meats to order, he kept thinking about Cilla. There had to be better answers, maybe beginning with a better doctor.
The breakfast rush lasted more than an hour. When no more fresh orders came in, Abram grabbed a tub for dirty dishes and a clean rag and left the kitchen.
Barbie grasped three tumblers in her fingers while also picking up dirty plates.
“What has Cilla’s doctor said about her condition?” Abram asked quietly as he held out the tub to her.
Barbie laid the cups and plates in the bin. “Same as he usually says.”
“What does he usually say?” Abram set the tub on a table and gathered some dirty flatware.
“To do the breathing treatments and stay in bed when her oxygen levels are low and that the symptoms will come and go.” Barbie sprayed the table with a cleaning solution.
“That’s it?” Abram wiped the table with a clean rag.
“Basically.” Barbie gathered more dirty dishes from another table.
Abram followed with the tub in hand. “What does ‘basically’ mean?”
She slid the items in with the others. “The doctor doesn’t say much, and that’s what I’ve gleaned.”
The thought of an apathetic doctor treating Cilla worried Abram. “Are you sure he is a good doctor?”
“He’s a doctor.”
“Right, but there are good doctors and bad doctors, just like there are good and bad carpenters and farmers.”
Barbie stopped cleaning and faced Abram. “He’s what we can afford. Most doctors charge more if you don’t have insurance, but this one doesn’t. Mamm doesn’t know another doctor who’s willing to accept what we can pay.”
The Amish community wasn’t rich with doctors. It got the ones who were willing to accept what payment they could get. And the Amish didn’t rely heavily on doctors, so they didn’t know much about how to find a truly good one. Some of the older Amish would say that if God willed people to be well, then they would get well, doctor or no doctor. Most Amish had evolved from that line of thinking, but collectively they still had limited knowledge about doctors.
“Cilla hasn’t shown any improvement with the help of the doctor?”
“She has good days and bad. She’s always been this way. The doctor said that’s the way it is with cystic fibrosis.”
He knew the disease was rough and became progressively worse over time, but it was becoming clear that Barbie didn’t question Cilla’s doctor. So did their parents question him?
Could Cilla do better under the care of a different doctor? Abram didn’t know enough to answer that question, but it seemed like an important one to ask.
With all the dirty dishes gathered, Abram started for the kitchen. The café door opened, and Jackson walked in, carrying a grocery bag. “I thought you were gone for the day,” Abram said.
“I ran an errand for Susie.”
Susie came out of the kitchen and stopped near the pass-through, motioning for them to join her.
“Thank you so much, Jackson.” She took the bag from him. “We were completely out of eggs and bread. On the upside, Skylar was definitely right about serving better coffee and changing the menu to match our limited baking skills.”
“Yeah.” Skylar came out from behind the register. “It was a brilliant plan. I increased my work load in a job I’d rather not do.”
Jackson chuckled. “I like it when people are brutally honest.”
“I’m brutally honest and lazy,” Skylar added. “It’s a winning combination.”
Susie shifted the brown bag in her arms. “This is a good gathering spot. We can see when the customers need refills or if anyone comes in, and we can talk without being heard. I’d like to know what’s going on with Cilla.”
“Barbie and I were just talking about that.” Abram took the groceries from Susie and set them on the counter. He looked at Jackson. “Do you know how to find a good doctor, a specialist?”
“Not really. I think most people rely on word of mouth or, these days, look them up on the Internet.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t a solution for Abram.
Jackson pointed at Skylar. “I bet she could help you look up some doctors.”
Skylar raised her brows. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Jax.”
“Good to know, but I was actually thinking you’re probably more detail oriented. According to Susie, you knew how to scour information from a supply catalog and knew exactly what this place needed to give it a boost. You searched for the details that make a difference, ones I wouldn’t have noticed. Now Brennemans’ Perks has the right food, the right equipment, and the right coffees that people make a racket for. If you could do that with a catalog, imagine what you could do on the Internet.”
“He’s right, Skylar. Would you do it?” Abram asked.
She glanced out the window before looking at Barbie. A hint of compassion flickered in Skylar’s eyes. “Sure, but how? I don’t have access to a computer or a cell phone.”
“I have a computer,” Jackson said, “and a jetpack that will give an Internet connection. But I don’t have them with me.”
“Sounds good.” Abram nodded. “We can’t have those in the house, but both would be allowed in here since it’s a business.”
“I can get them and be back around closing time. I doubt it would take more than an hour, maybe two, to find what you’re looking for.”
“Perfect plan.” Abram didn’t know why Jackson was always so good to him, and now he was including Cilla, Susie, and the café. But whatever the reason, Abram was incredibly grateful.