The aroma of coffee and sugar filled the air as Ariana pulled a pan of cinnamon buns out of the oven. It was early morning, but Brandi stood at the island preparing the Thanksgiving turkey for roasting. The three of them had been baking off and on since yesterday morning. And the mixture of aromas was intoxicating.

Brandi clicked her tongue “Man, I forgot to buy wine.”

Cameron reached around Ariana, a glint in her eyes as she stuck her finger in the icing. “You know it’s a bad Thanksgiving when your family runs out of liquor before noon.” She licked the sugary stuff from her finger.

Ariana laughed. “Yeah, Brandi, what’s that about?”

Brandi put her hands on her hips. “You girls. Stop that. I need it for the stuffing…and…other recipes.”

Cameron angled her thumb toward her mouth. “Glug. Glug. Glug.” Then she gestured toward Brandi.

Ariana couldn’t help but laugh. When it came to sarcasm and teasing, nothing was off-limits to Cameron, including their Sunday morning churchgoing. One Sunday in church they heard a faint noise rise and then lessen as the preacher talked. Cameron leaned in and whispered, “Do you know why it’s important to be quiet in church?” She paused. “Because people are sleeping.”

Now that Brandi and Gabe were going to church with them, Ariana tried to put an adult between Cameron and herself. But from the moment the service was over, Cameron kept Ariana in stitches with her observations.

When the doorbell rang, Gabe set down his newspaper and headed for the door. A moment later he and Nicholas walked into the kitchen.

Ariana and Nicholas had returned to Bellflower Creek five days ago. He’d dropped her off here, and they were both polite, but there was an uncomfortable awkwardness between them. Since they’d spent so much time together on the trip, she was scheduled to stay with Brandi until after the Thanksgiving holiday, as if she were a minor and the parents had a custodial agreement.

“Happy Thanksgiving.” He sounded somber as he nodded to Brandi and Cameron. “It smells delicious in here.”

Brandi washed her hands. “Thanks.” She grabbed a dishtowel. “So what’s up?”

“The thing we’ve been texting about.”

Brandi angled her head, looking curious and a bit scared. “You want to talk about this today…on Thanksgiving?”

“I’ve wrestled with it since the day we dragged Ariana here last month. You’ve voiced the same opinion she has—to let her go home. So I’m here to give what I guess is good news.”

“She gets to choose when to leave?” Brandi asked.

Ariana’s heart raced with excitement. But Brandi was in no rush for her to go. Ariana knew that as well as she knew her Mamm wanted her home again. But good moms often pulled for what their children wanted over what the moms wanted, especially when the child was twenty.

Nicholas nodded, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “Ari, I ask that you stay until after the first of the year, preferably mid-January, so that your leaving isn’t hanging so heavy throughout the Christmas holidays. And I ask that you not tell your family just yet. Let’s let Skylar go through the holidays before we shake up her world again, okay?”

“Mid-January sounds great.” Ariana tempered her response, but her heart soared as she went to him and clutched him around the neck. “Thank you.”

He held her, his palms flat against her back, like a dad who didn’t want to let go. “I’m going to miss you.” He drew a ragged breath.

Ariana stepped back, part of her wanting to do a little jig, but no one in the room looked happy about the announcement, especially not Cameron.

Brandi stepped forward and hugged her, more of a lukewarm congrats than a hearty one. “Good for you, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” She released Brandi and winked at Cameron. “We’re still sisters, and it’s your turn to enter my world.”

Cameron rubbed each eye with an index finger, as if dust had gotten in them. “Yeah, we’re sisters, and we’ll stay so close that I’ll be there to pick you up if you fall.”

“After you finish laughing at me, right?” Ariana grabbed a bowl of icing and held it out.

“It must be time for you to go. You already know all my jokes.”

No one but Ariana looked excited or relieved. “Don’t worry, guys. The bishop will ask that I have some settling-in time, but after that you can visit me. And when I prove where my heart is, I’ll be allowed to visit you too.” Or at least she thought so.

If Nicholas had realized how hard Brandi and Cameron would take this news, would he have waited? Did they expect her to temper her decision to get home as soon as possible?

“Brandi.” Nicholas checked his phone. “We’ll need to go see Skylar and have a sit-down talk between January 2 and 12. Can you look at your calendar and let me know?”

“I can do that now.” Brandi got out her phone.

“It’s none of my business,” Ariana said, “but does it seem strange to anyone else that no one has contacted Skylar?”

“She could’ve called us, and she hasn’t,” Nicholas said. “It’s best to let Skylar make those decisions. But I’m sure she’ll be willing to talk by January and will be ready to come home.”

While Brandi, Gabe, and Nicholas chatted, Ariana returned to the stove to ice the cinnamon buns. Cameron got a plate from the cabinet and held it out.

Ariana put a bun on her plate. “I think I should tell Quill this news in person.”

No one—not her Amish or her Englisch family—would understand this victory or celebrate it correctly in their hearts the way Quill would. Added to that, once she was home, Rudy would want—demand—space between Quill and her just as she would if he had a female friend who’d been as close as Quill had become.

An idea came to her. “What did Quill say was his last day in Mingo before the family goes to Kentucky for Christmas?”

“Thursday, December 17. I remember because the next day is the last day of school before the holiday.”

“Perfect.”

While the Schlabachs were at the job site that day, she would go to the trailer, let herself in with the key Dan had told her about, and make Quill his favorite meal. But she’d make enough for all his brothers. It would be her way of thanking him and celebrating her victory of going home and saying a proper good-bye, although she’d probably catch glimpses of him here and there. She might even stumble into him at Berta’s house one evening while he was visiting, and she’d stay and talk with him. That pattern was sure to repeat here and there over the decades until they grew old.

In two shakes of a lamb’s tail after the first of the year, she was going home! Rudy would be thrilled when he found out and so very relieved that, rather than being gone a year, she’d be home after less than three months.

Cameron sat on the counter beside Ariana and dangled her legs. “You sure about this?”

“Am I sure?”

“Yeah, about going home so soon. You looked excited for a few minutes, but right now your eyes don’t reflect any thrilled-ness.”

Ariana chuckled. “I think you may be projecting your lack of enthusiasm onto me.”

“Yeah, maybe so.”

But Ariana did sense an odd reservation in her heart. It had to be because her Englisch parents were hurt. Had she cheated them out of nine months with her they could never get back? Was three months enough in God’s eyes?

With the café closed for the day, Abram flicked soapy water at Cilla. She squealed and grabbed a kitchen sprayer and held it up to threaten him.

“I dare—” Cold water splashed his face.

Cilla burst into laughter, dropped the nozzle, and scurried toward the door.

Abram went after her and slid between her and the doorway. “Going somewhere?”

“I was hoping to, ya. But you’d have to move out of my way.”

He wiped a hand down his wet face. “Back to the sink. We have dishes to wash.”

She dropped her head, looking defeated, and started walking that way.

“Children, is there a problem?” Skylar called from the loft, where she and Susie were doing inventory.

“Cilla.” Abram called back. “She’s the problem.”

“Cilla,” Skylar scolded, “don’t let him get away with any nonsense.”

Cilla laughed.

“Thanks, sis.” Abram couldn’t see Skylar from here, but he was sure she was chuckling.

“Anytime,” Skylar offered.

No one was in the café but the four of them. He returned to the kitchen sink. Today, like several days late last week, were good days for Cilla. She had energy, and laughter came easily and often. He longed for good days to be the norm in her life.

Her doctor’s appointment was two days away, right after work, and he’d yet to tell her. He wasn’t sure how she would take it, and because of that, he’d decided to tell her at the last minute. Now was pretty much last minute. He removed a stack of clean plates from the rack. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” Cilla continued washing the plate in her hand.

“Privately.”

Her smile vanished as he closed the covering to the pass-through. Then he closed the swinging kitchen door.

She grabbed a hand towel. “Is everything all right?”

“Ya, of course. I just need to talk to you.” He tried to find the words he’d been rehearsing, but they had scattered. Maybe if he opened his mouth and started talking, the right words would gather. “It’s nice having you on the days you feel good, and then you and Barbie on other days. You two work well together.”

“Ya, I know what needs to be done, and she’s capable of doing it. She says that together we make the perfect woman.”

“I’m glad she has you.”

Cilla chuckled. “You said that wrong. I’m the weak one, so you’re glad I have her.”

“What good is being able to do physical things if you don’t know what to do?”

She chuckled. “I like the way you think, even when it’s wrong. So what’s this about?”

He cleared his throat and started explaining about the doctor’s appointment she had on Wednesday afternoon. Tests would be run afterward, and then she was scheduled for a follow-up visit after the first of the year.

Cilla’s face reminded him of cut stone as she questioned and balked, assuring him that she appreciated the gesture but that she was fine and he needed to spend his money in better ways.

“It’s done, Cilla. I’ve already committed to paying the doctor.”

That wasn’t completely true. Was it necessary to lie to her? He’d agreed to pay cash after the visit, and he would owe a fee if they canceled, but he wouldn’t owe for the full visit if she didn’t go.

She stared at him, and he wondered what her next reaction would be. Would she storm off? yell? A moment later she tackled him with a hug. Too shocked to move, Abram let his arms hang limply by his side.

“You are the sweetest person I’ve ever met, Abram. Denki.” She sniffled. Was she crying?

Abram wanted to return the hug, but he stood there like a goof, smiling.

The door opened, and Cilla backed away, wiping her cheeks.

Skylar stepped into the kitchen. “Oh.” She looked at Cilla. “Sorry, I didn’t think…” She pointed a thumb at the seating area of the café. “I’ll just go back that way,” she said as she disappeared.

Cilla beamed at Abram while wiping tears. “Gross dank, Abram.”

Abram couldn’t speak, so he nodded.