Thursday, December 14
It had been a long day. Neil had volunteered to come in early to work to help Junior, his boss at Horse Cave Salvage, reorganize the bulk-food aisle. Flour, sugar, and popcorn fairly flew off the shelves this time of the year.
After he carefully followed Junior’s directives, he’d gone out in a truck to help with deliveries. Of course, they’d gotten stuck in traffic and had returned almost an hour late.
All that meant he was walking home right as the sun was setting. It was going to be a race to see if he could walk in his door before it was pitch-black outside.
Just as he approached the entrance to his uncle’s land, he spied Uncle Joseph himself on the front porch. He was sitting in one of the five Adirondack chairs decorating the area. His feet were resting on the porch railing and he was smoking a cigarette. A large metal kerosene lamp rested on the table nearby.
Though Neil would have preferred to walk on by, common courtesy—and his family’s gratitude—dictated that he approach and at least say hello.
“Gut ohvet, Onkle,” he called out.
“Good evening to you, too,” Joseph said as he got to his feet. “You are getting home late. Ain’t so?”
“I am. I’m grateful for the work, though.”
“Jah. Work is always a blessing.” Joseph leaned against one of the square columns decorating his expansive front porch. His relaxed posture was a marked contrast to his words.
Actually, many things about Joseph were contradictory.
Looking at him in the dim light, Neil figured if he didn’t know better, one would think his uncle was English. His hair was cut short, he had no beard, since he was unmarried, and his clothes, though technically plain, were definitely sewn from expensive fabric. His fondness for smoking was also rare in the Amish community. It wasn’t forbidden—many men smoked pipes—but his fondness for his red pack of cigarettes was notable.
“Would you like to join me for a bit?” Joseph asked. “I made some fresh kaffi.”
He didn’t want to. But here his uncle had given them so much. How could he refuse? “Danke.”
Looking pleased, Joseph extinguished his cigarette. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back. You take it black, yes?”
“Jah,” he said as his uncle strode into the house. Before sitting down, Neil glanced around the side of the house. In the distance, about a mile up the drive, stood the house he was now living in. Multiple lights shone through the windows. Smoke rose from the chimney. It looked like everyone was home, either eating or visiting together around the fireplace. He longed to join them.
But surely it was good he was spending some time with his uncle, too? How many evenings had Joseph spent in this same spot, watching all of them together while he smoked his cigarettes alone?
“Here you go,” Joseph said as he strode back outside with two large white ceramic mugs in his hands. As he passed Neil his, he said, “Some people complain that coffee keeps them up at night, but it never affects me.”
“Me, neither,” Neil said, though he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d sipped coffee so late in the day.
Joseph sat down, shook out another cigarette, and lit it with a sigh. “I’m glad you stopped to say hello, Neil. Most times you don’t.”
What could he say to that? “Usually, I’m anxious to take a shower and eat . . .”
“And there is only one shower in that house. No doubt hot water is at a premium.” He grinned at his joke.
Neil grinned uncomfortably. There was a note in his uncle’s tone that sounded like he was talking about something other than just hot water.
As he tapped his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, Joseph murmured, “I bet you are missing your house. There was a lot of space there. I mean, from what I remember. Three bathrooms on the second floor alone.”
Feeling more ill at ease, Neil sipped his coffee. “We are fine where we are.”
“No, you’re not.” After placing his cup on the table, he turned to face Neil more directly. “You don’t even have a bedroom now, do you?”
“I do not.”
“Where do you sleep?”
Neil knew Joseph was aware of their sleeping arrangements. He had brought it up on purpose, just to stir the pot. But even though Neil knew that, he still answered. Joseph had done a lot for their family and deserved his respect. “Me and Roy are sleeping on the floor in the living room.”
Looking even more pensive, Joseph blew out a plume of smoke. “Here you are, a grown man, a man working ten, eleven hours a day . . . reduced to sleeping on the floor of his living room. Such a waste.”
“I am fine, Onkle.”
“I suppose your bruder is, too?”
Neil nodded. After all, what could he say? It was because of their uncle’s generosity that they had a place to live at all.
But his lack of complaint only seemed to make his uncle even more frustrated. “Did you know that I offered to have you and Roy move in with me?”
Neil was shocked. So shocked, he shook his head.
“I didn’t think so. Your father refused to consider the idea, even though I have plenty of room. Even though I would have appreciated the company. Even though I’ve done so much for you all over the years . . .” His chair creaked as he stamped out his smoke. “But it was never enough, I guess. I wonder why.”
“You don’t understand why?” His voice was strained. Hoarse.
“What reason could your father have for refusing my invitation? Was it simply pride . . . or did he think your living arrangements were only temporary?”
Yet again, it seemed as if Uncle Joseph was speaking of more than one thing. But instead of helping him understand his father’s point of view, it only made Neil feel more uncomfortable. And vaguely disloyal.
Needing to put some space between them, Neil surged to his feet. “Danke for the kaffi. But I need to go home now.”
Uncle Joseph laughed. “Sorry. I guess I’m telling you things I shouldn’t.”
“It’s not that. It’s that my father should be here for this discussion, too.”
“I guess you would feel that way. I don’t blame you. It’s hard to know who to trust anymore, isn’t it?”
“Good night, Uncle.”
“Jah. Have a good night, Neil. Sleep well.” His uncle’s words rang in his head as Neil started down the black asphalt driveway. Had Joseph been trying to say that he didn’t trust his father? And if that was the case . . . why did it not feel all that shocking?
AS THE FOUR of them walked neatly in a line behind their father and his flashlight, each of the women taking care to step in his large footprints in the ankle-deep snow, Susanna thought they probably looked like a line of ducks.
That, or maybe a little train, she mused whimsically, given the fact that they had walked like this many a time. Over the years, the five of them had delivered pies or crocheted blankets or other small gifts to neighbors many times. It was nice to do something for other people, but they actually enjoyed doing things together. They were a close-knit family and always had been. Even though their daed had worked away from home, they’d still managed to be closer than most.
It was one of the reasons Susanna had accompanied her whole family south to Kentucky without a second’s thought. No matter what opportunities might have arisen in Berlin, she felt the same way that her parents did, that after their faith, family came first.
She supposed Neil felt that way about his family, too. Of course, he would side with them if his parents thought her parents had mishandled the purchase of their property. But as she thought of their conversation on their way home the other day, Susanna felt that things were changing for the better. She, at least, was learning more about Neil as a person—and she liked the things she was discovering about him. She liked that he worked hard and was so serious. She was that way, too.
“We’re almost there,” Amanda whispered, interrupting her thoughts.
“That we are.”
“Do you think Dale is going to be home?” she asked. Her eyes were wide with anticipation.
She looked so cute, so, well, smitten, that Susanna was finding it hard to keep a straight face. “I guess we’re going to find out soon.”
“I hope he is,” she said with a smile.
As she watched her sister from behind, Susanna grinned at the way Amanda seemed to have a new bounce to her step. She couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Amanda’s feelings for the neighbor were honest and wide open. Out there for anyone to see. From the looks of things, it had seemed that Dale felt the same way.
It seemed Dale had no qualms about separating his sadness about the Vances leaving from his admiration for Amanda.
She hoped he would continue to act the same way in front of his family, even after their father shared the disturbing news about the broken fence.
What if he acted noticeably cooler? Amanda would be so embarrassed and hurt. She shivered, thinking how painful that would be to watch.
“Are you shivering, Sue?” Traci asked.
“What? Oh, maybe a little. I should have worn another scarf,” Susanna said. “How cold is it, do you think?”
“Only in the twenties,” Amanda said over her shoulder.
“Cold enough.”
Traci trotted up to her side. “Jah, but it ain’t all that cold. You’re so silly, Sue. You always complain about the winter weather.”
It was kind of true. While everyone else seemed to take the winter weather in stride, Susanna always was whining about how wet and cold she was. Eyeing the well-kept farmhouse they were approaching, she said, “Look, we’re almost there. They have a pretty home, don’t they?”
“It is. I like their green metal roof. Look! They have a gazebo. I bet that’s pretty in the summer.”
Amanda smiled. “I bet it is.”
Susanna noticed that her response was slightly hesitant. “Are you worried about this visit?”
“A little bit.”
“Me, too,” Susanna agreed. “The last thing we need is another family being upset with us.”
“Hopefully that won’t be the case,” Amanda said.
“Well, I hope the Kaufmanns let us stay for a bit and warm up,” Susanna quipped, attempting to lighten their worries.
Amanda giggled. “Me, too.”
“Stop complaining, girls,” Daed called out.
“I’m not complaining,” Traci said. “Amanda and Susanna are arguing. Not me.”
“We weren’t arguing,” Amanda said.
“All of you, hush,” Mamm chided. “Instead of snipping and snapping at each other, you should be hoping we have a good and productive visit.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with hoping it’s a good, productive, and warm one,” said Susanna.
“Oh, brother,” Mamm said. “Some things never change, do they? Once again, you are making sure you get your last word in.”
“I’m not quite that bad,” Susanna protested.
“There she goes again,” muttered Traci.
“I, for one, am rather enjoying this little walk. It feels familiar and so many other things haven’t lately,” Amanda commented. “After all, we’ve certainly delivered a gift together a time or two.”
“Or maybe twenty-two,” Susanna said.
“It’s been more than that,” Traci said.
As they walked up the short brick-lined walkway, Daed shook his head. “Sometimes you girls sound exactly as you did when you were twelve. It never ceases to amaze me. Now, put on your good manners.”
“Sorry, Daed,” Amanda said. “I’ll do my best.”
“I bet you will,” Susanna whispered.
Amanda blushed. But before she could say anything, the front door opened.
And then there stood Dale Kaufmann. “Hello,” he said. He stared curiously at her parents, smiled hesitantly at Traci and Susanna, then settled on Amanda. “Hi.”
Amanda smiled brightly. As if he’d just said something amazing and insightful. “Hiya, Dale. We, um, we came over to say hello. We brought you a pie, too.”
“That’s kind of you. Ain’t so?” he asked as he turned around.
Susanna had been so intent on watching the interplay of her sister and Dale, the crowd of people standing behind him took her by surprise.
After the briefest of pauses, a lovely woman with Dale’s brown eyes and hair approached. “Wilcom. I’m Anna Kaufmann,” she said as she opened the door wider. “It’s so kind of you to come over. Please, do come in.”
“Danke,” Daed said, walking through and stopping politely so he didn’t track snow on the clean floors.
Just as Susanna was taking off her cloak, she noticed Amanda and Dale were staring at each other. Just like the rest of them didn’t exist.
It was so personal, so intimate, she felt her cheeks heat.
It seemed she hadn’t needed to be worried about Dale Kaufmann ignoring her sister after all. Instead, she should have been worried about the sparks that were flying between the two of them.