I hope you’ll kumm back and visit us again soon,” Faith said to the last customers of the day as she handed back the change from their bill.
“I only have one suggestion,” one woman said.
“What’s that?”
“You should consider opening a bakery shop too.”
Faith chuckled. “I don’t have enough hours in mei day as it is.” She walked the group of women to the door, held it open, and thanked them again as they left. The Amish Table had closed over an hour ago, but like her mother, Faith didn’t want to rush anyone out the door, even though it meant not getting out on time.
Faith locked the door, then leaned against it and sighed. What a day—a glorious day, Father. Even with her feet throbbing and as tired as she was, she wouldn’t complain about God’s way of answering her prayers. Between take-out orders and the constant flow of customers, this had to have been their busiest day ever. And, on top of providing an increase in revenue, God also provided a compatible environment where Faith and Olivia were able to set aside their differences and work together in a peaceful way.
Faith had already cleared most of the dirty dishes from the table of eight. She just needed to grab the coffee mugs, dessert plates, and forks.
The kitchen door swung open and Gideon appeared carrying the busboy tub. “Need help?”
Faith smiled. “Did you think this day would ever end?”
He transferred dirty dishes into the tub. “I’m all for eating on paper plates after this,” he said with a chuckle.
“Me too.” Faith rolled the used place mats and set the trash in one corner of the tub. She motioned to the tables they had earlier joined in order to accommodate the women’s group. “Would you give me a hand putting these tables back?”
Gideon placed the tub of dishes on a chair, then grasped the end of the table.
“I really appreciate your help today,” she said, lifting the other end. “I’d forgotten the date the newspaper man said the article would be in the paper. To be honest, I had no idea one person could make such a difference.” They moved the next table against the wall.
“So you met the person who wrote the review?”
“Jah, I thought it was odd that he ordered a second breakfast and that he wanted to take pictures of the food. He mentioned that he wrote tourism stories about local restaurants hidden away on the back roads of Michigan.”
“That’s interesting. He just stumbled into Posen?”
She shrugged. “Or God sent him.” God had certainly sent the customers today, and the majority of them had mentioned the article. She glanced at the clock hanging on the far wall and frowned.
“Something wrong?”
“I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Mamm and Daed were expecting us to bring home supper, and nau I’m nett sure if we even have some of the special of the day left over.”
“Olivia took food home,” he said.
“She did? I mean, I assumed Olivia was helping Catherine reddy-up the kitchen.”
“It was Catherine who suggested she nett keep your parents waiting.” He grinned. “And I offered to bring you home.” He picked up the container of dishes. “I’ll do these while you finish whatever needs to be done out here.”
Faith watched him as he walked away. This day would have been a disaster had he not stayed to help. Oh no! She’d promised to help him in the apple grove and now it was dark. Faith hurried and wiped the tablecloths with a bleach rag. As she repositioned the chairs around the table, a newspaper fell on the floor. Picking it up, she reread the food critic’s headline: “The Amish Table—A Place Where Farm-Raised, Hand-Picked, Baked-from-Scratch Daily Beckons Simple Living.”
Faith pressed the paper against her chest. “Danki, Father, for the abundant blessings You bestowed upon mei family. Forgive me for fretting about the restaurant’s future. All the while I was wallowing in fear about the restaurant possibly closing, You were taking care of all our needs. I want to learn to trust in Your ways better and nett fret so much.” She straightened the tablecloth. “Gideon needs help keeping the beetles away from his trees. Please allow his orchard to flourish. He’s such a kind and considerate—”
Glass shattered, startling Faith.
Gideon poked his head around the waitress station. “Just me. I was putting mugs on the rack and one fell.”
“I’ll get the broom.” She headed into the kitchen, grabbed the broom and dustpan from the utility room, then waved at Catherine, who was busy chopping vegetables for the next day.
Gideon was grinning when she returned. “I’m sorry I interrupted you.”
Faith swept the pieces into the pile. “How long were you in here?”
He squatted down with the dustpan. “I heard you praying for me. Danki.”
“We’re supposed to pray for one another.” She focused on cleaning up the mess. Plain people didn’t usually pray out loud, and she prayed silently, too, but even as a child she talked with God as if He were her only friend. And the way she and Olivia got along, she needed someone to talk to.
“Will you keep mei apples in your prayers?”
“Of course I will, silly.” She swept under the table. “I’m going to mop in the morning so we can leave anytime.”
Gideon emptied the dishpan and the trash container.
“I appreciate your help, Gideon.”
“Anytime.”
Faith flipped the light switch on the dining room wall, her eyes feeling heavier in the dark.
Catherine snapped the lid on the container of chopped onions and placed it in the refrigerator. “I have things pretty well set up for tomorrow, so we shouldn’t have as much to prepare.” She removed her apron, hung it on the hook. “But if tomorrow goes like today, we’ll need more workers.”
“I agree.” The way her feet were aching, Faith wasn’t sure if she could keep up the pace another day.
“I’ll stop by Lois’s haus on mei way home,” Catherine said as they lumbered to the back door.
“See you in the morning.” Faith locked up, then she and Gideon headed to his buggy. “I hope getting out late hasn’t interfered with your work in the orchard.”
“It’ll wait for tomorrow.” He untied Bay from the post.
“But what about the beetles?”
“You prayed about it, remember?”
“So I did.” Faith climbed onto the bench and yawned. The cool night air was calming, and she closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic sound of Bay’s hooves clip-clopping over the pavement.
“Faith,” Gideon said, nudging her shoulder. “You’re home.”
She blinked a few times and looked around. “I fell asleep?”
He chuckled. “Snoring like a bear in hibernation.”
“Remind me to ask you tomorrow what that sounds like.” She opened the door and slid groggily off the bench. She didn’t make it more than a few steps when Gideon sidled up beside her.
“I think you’re still sleeping,” he said, placing his hand on her lower back.
“Maybe.” She giggled. “Maybe you’re just a dream.”