Zeb tried not to think about Eunice going out on a date. She had her dat’s permission, not that she technically needed it. Still, Amos had apparently told her to have a good time, so who was he to think it was a terrible idea?
The guy was Mennonite.
He was apparently older, at least by a few years.
And she barely knew him.
Three good reasons that she should have said no.
He explained as much to his bruder, Samuel, as they did the dinner dishes. His counselor had suggested he try to restore his relationship with his family. That was the word he’d used. Restore. As if they were two nations creating an alliance or negotiating a treaty.
“You’re just jealous,” Samuel said.
“What?” The word came out more emphatic than he’d intended. The lady doth protest too much. Only he wasn’t a lady. He was an Amish farmer. “I am not.”
“Didn’t your doctor say for you to start being honest with yourself? You have feelings for Eunice. Anyone with eyes can see it.”
Now Zeb groaned. But instead of stomping out of the room, he took a deep breath and set to scouring the pan that he’d burned the bacon in. He was not the best cook. Some days, breakfast for dinner was the best he could do and still he’d burned it. Focus on the positive. That was another saying of his counselor’s. Okay. He could do that. They’d had a nice meal together.
“Tell me why you think that. Because I’m going to be honest, I haven’t consciously thought of Eunice in that way.” He’d thought of holding her hand, but that was different. Wasn’t it?
“Doesn’t surprise me. It’s not as if you’re in touch with your feelings.”
“Says the guy who is dating three women.”
“But all three women know that I’m not ready to be in a serious relationship. And they know about each other. We’re more friends than we are romantically involved.”
Huh. He hadn’t thought of it that way.
“But we were talking about your feelings for Eunice.”
“I don’t know. She’s been my friend for a long time.”
“She’s practically the only person you talk to—besides family.”
That was true. But did he think of her as more than a friend? It was hard to even begin to untangle his feelings for her. He supposed it was true that she was his best friend. Maybe, at this point, his only friend.
“Do you find yourself thinking about her when she’s not around?”
“Sometimes.” How often did he think about Eunice? “I mean pretty often, but then we work together—with the tours and all.”
Samuel let that sit between them a few minutes. Finally, he continued as if Zeb hadn’t spoken. “And you’re jealous about this date she’s going on.”
“I’m not jealous. I just think it’s a bad idea.”
Samuel stopped drying dishes and leaned with his back against the counter. “How would you feel if Hannah Glick were dating a Mennonite guy?”
“Hannah Glick?”
“You know Hannah.” Samuel began twirling the dish towel. “You’ve known her as long as you’ve known Eunice.”
“But I don’t know her well.”
“True. Let’s look at it this way. How would you characterize your relationship with Eunice? Friend? Family? Or something more?”
“That sounds like a quiz in an Englisch magazine.”
“You got me. I read them sometimes while I’m waiting between auctions. People leave them lying around, so why not educate myself?”
“On how you feel about a girl?” Zeb started to laugh. His brother had always seemed so confident, so sure of everything. He couldn’t imagine him ticking answers off on an Englisch love quiz.
“Back to the question,” Samuel said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Friend? Family? Or something more?”
“Not family. Not really.”
“Okay.”
“She is my friend, but...”
“But so is Hannah and you wouldn’t care who she dates.”
Zeb shook his head and turned back to the sink. He let the dish water out, cleaned the sink, rinsed the dishrag and set it across the partition between the wash side and the rinse side. “Okay. I’ll be honest enough to say you stumped me. If I have thought of Eunice in that way, in a romantic way, I wasn’t aware of it.”
“Well, now that you’re getting in touch with your feelings, maybe you can figure it out.”
At that point, Josh streaked through the kitchen wearing only a bath towel. Zeb was actually relieved to be interrupted. Samuel left to meet one of his friends, and Zeb spent the next hour with his son. They stored the bath toys. Straightened his bedroom. Played a game of cards—Go Fish, which had been Josh’s favorite game for the last few months. Finally, they shared a before-bedtime snack of milk and freshly baked cookies.
“Becca’s a gut cook.”
“That she is,” Zeb agreed. He remembered sitting on the porch, just a few nights earlier, unable to taste the cookies he was eating. Those cookies had also been from Becca, so it wasn’t that one batch was from a gut cook and one from a bad. Nope. He was the one who had changed.
The cookies were peanut butter. They were sweet and crispy. Just like Suzanne made. He let that thought wash over him, closed his eyes, focused on breathing in and out.
“What?” Josh asked.
Zeb opened his eyes. Josh looked worried. He even put his cookie back on the plate—half-eaten. Zeb was learning that his son missed very little. The counselor had suggested he start being more honest with his son.
“I was just thinking about your mamm.”
“You were?”
“She was a gut cook too.”
“I don’t remember that.” Josh frowned, then picked up his cookie and took another bite. Staring at the portion that was left in his hand, he cocked his head, then said, “I’ll bet you miss that.”
“Yup. I do.”
Josh finished the cookie, wiped his fingertips on a napkin, then set the napkin down next to the glass that still held a couple inches of milk. He did each thing very carefully, as if he were trying not to knock something over. Trying not to mess this up. His five-year-old son stood in front of Zeb, who was sitting on the couch. Putting both of his small hands on Zeb’s shoulders, he said, “Becca tells us to hug it out.”
“Who is us?”
“Me and Mary. When we fuss over something.”
“You and Mary fuss?”
“It’s no big deal, Dat. People disagree. Or sometimes one person is sad because they had a terrible breakfast or broke their favorite toy. Anyway, Becca says when you hug it out, everything is better.” And then Josh leaned forward, attempted to circle his arms around Zeb’s shoulders and squeezed, even giving it an “mmm-hmm” before letting go.
Stepping back, he asked, “Better?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Wanna play one more game of cards?”
“Okay, but just one.”
“Don’t get sad if you lose again.”
“You think you can beat me twice?”
Josh’s answer was laughter as he began counting out cards for each of them. That sound, that laughter, was enough to make Zeb’s day one that he would put in the plus column. Maybe the first such day in a very long time. After Josh was tucked into bed, he sat out on the porch. Allowed himself to simply rock. Listened to the night sounds. Relaxed.
And wondered if there was any chance Samuel was right about Eunice. He didn’t think so, but then what did he know? He’d become a master of misdirection—even to himself. Did he care for Eunice in a romantic way? And if he did, was he willing to follow those feelings and see where they led?
Eunice went on the date with Lester Friday evening, so of course when she returned from working at the knit shop on Saturday afternoon, her oldest schweschder, Sarah, was in the kitchen.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Eunice said, dropping down into one of the kitchen chairs.
“Oh, I just had a few casseroles to bring over and pop in the freezer.”
“Dat and I are getting by okay, you know.”
“Of course you are.” Sarah sat down across from her and pushed a bowl of snack mix toward her. “I tried adding raisins, cranberries and chocolate chips in this one.”
“Englischers sell this in bags.”
“But mine is better.”
Eunice took a handful, tried it and nodded in agreement. “Yours is better.”
“Becca’s going to sell them.” Sarah beamed as she sat back. “The whole family is getting involved in this tour thing.”
“That’s how I still think of it too. ‘The tour thing.’”
They both laughed.
“So, that’s it? You didn’t come to quiz me about my date?”
“I did not.” Sarah grinned and waited. When Eunice didn’t jump in, she added, “But feel free to spill all the details.”
“Actually, there’s not that much to tell.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Well, it was your first date in a while. Right?”
“Over a year, actually.” Eunice picked up a copy of the Budget to fan herself. “That’s rather embarrassing to admit.”
“Okay. First date in over a year and you have nothing to say about it?”
Eunice reached for another handful of trail mix. “I guess it was okay. Nothing great. I found myself wondering what all the fuss was about.”
“Hmm.”
“You said that already.”
“Maybe I’m saying it because you keep stumping me.” Sarah craned her neck to the left, then the right. “Was he polite?”
“Ya. Very.”
“Interesting?”
“In his way, I suppose so. He’s an English professor, so his world is pretty different from mine.”
“Was he attentive?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he ask about your work or your hobbies? Anything like that?”
“Oh, ya. He wanted to hear about the tours and my work on small engines. We shared a few laughs about my blunders at the yarn shop.”
Sarah stood, walked to the sink, looked out the window, then turned around and studied Eunice. “So, no goosebumps or butterflies or racing heart?”
“That stuff is only in books, Sarah. Not real life.”
Sarah sat back down beside her. “In a way you’re right, and in a way you’re wrong.”
“Explain it to me.”
“It’s true that romance books talk about those things as if we’re all swooning over one another—walking around with fast heartbeats, feeling out of breath, seeing little cupid hearts pop up here and there, feeling butterflies in our stomachs...”
Eunice couldn’t help laughing, and somehow that laughter made her feel better. “I suppose I might have been expecting one or two of those things. But it was just—okay. It was a perfectly fine evening, but nothing to write home about.”
“So you’re right that the fairy-tale picture of being in love isn’t real life. But, Eunice, when you’re with the right person, when you’re with the person that Gotte has meant for you...there are moments that feel special like that.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t look sad. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”
“Okay.”
“But apparently not with Lester.”
“Apparently not.”
“Unless you wanted to give him another try? Maybe go for a second date?”
“Nein. I think one date with Lester was enough. To tell you the truth, I couldn’t get past the idea that if we did care for each other, one of us would need to convert to the other’s religion.”
“That would be pretty far down the road.”
“But I don’t want to go down that road at all. Not now. Not six months from now. I like being Amish, and I suspect Lester enjoys being Mennonite.”
“Which is one more way of saying you’re not the ideal person for each other.”
“Yup.” And now she felt better about it. The night had been a little disappointing, and she hadn’t been able to figure out why. “Talking with you always helps.”
They both stood and Sarah pulled her into a hug. Eunice was suddenly aware of the child her schweschder was carrying and something in her heart twisted. Would she ever be a mom? Did she want to be?
Then holding Eunice at arm’s length, Sarah studied her.
“What? Do I have trail mix on my face?”
“Nein. It’s just that I love you, and you’ve turned into a beautiful and smart and kind woman.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Now Eunice felt immeasurably better. Funny how Sarah could give you a pep talk, and you didn’t even realize that was what she was doing.
As Eunice walked Sarah out to her buggy, she told her about the tours, the guests and then finally about Zeb and how he was seeing a doctor.
“That’s a big step.”
“I know it. I’m proud of him.”
“You two have always been close.”
“Close but only friends, so don’t give me that smile.” Eunice thought that Sarah was practically glowing. Her baby bump was beginning to show. She was in love. She had moved on with her life—past the confines of the home she’d grown up in.
“Sometimes, what starts as friendship grows into something else.”
“If you say so.”
“Keep dating.”
“Okay.”
“It’s probably going to take more than one attempt to hit the jackpot.”
“Right.”
As Sarah drove away, Eunice stood watching. She had irritated herself by comparing Lester to Zeb in her mind all during the date. She couldn’t figure out why she was doing it. She had felt powerless to stop.
She did not think Sarah was right about friendship turning into love, at least not in this instance.
But she was probably right that it would take more than one attempt at dating to find someone special. If she was with the right guy, she wouldn’t be thinking about Zeb. The only question was, who could this new romantic interest possibly be? Because she couldn’t think of a single person.
Maybe it was time to ask someone else’s advice.
Her family could only help her so much. She needed to ask someone who was her age and someone who knew her pretty well. And, suddenly, she knew just who that was.