Twenty-two

Amos dialed the number for The Peony Inn, the same way he had every day for the past week. Like Esther and Lizzie, Amos’s family had a phone in their barn. He hung up before the call went through. Again. Some folks had cell phones these days, but he didn’t and neither did Naomi.

He’d been home over two weeks with no reply letter. She’d obviously stepped back into her role as Thomas’s fiancée. Amos wanted to be happy for her, but he hadn’t realized how much he cared for her until he’d been away from her for a few days.

He found himself loitering around the mailbox daily between two and two-thirty, the mailman’s regular delivery time. Nothing. He hadn’t been completely truthful in his letter to her. Yes, she’d shown him how to laugh again and to open his heart, but she’d also stolen a chunk of his heart.

He had tried to paint down by the creek, but when the grayish tints started to show back up in his paintings, he gave up. Some days, he really was grateful to have known her. Other days, he wished he’d never met her. God had given him a glimpse of what a second chance could look like, but now all he could do was think about what he’d lost. Again.

He’d only loved two women in his life. He seriously doubted there would be a third. But could he really love Naomi after such a short time? Or was their only role in each other’s life simply to bring the other out of the pit of despair they’d been living in? Each day without seeing Naomi seemed like one more step backward.

As he stared at the phone, he wondered what she was doing. Was she with Thomas? Was she still painting?

He had just pried open a can of glossy sealer so he could apply the final coat to a special-order table, when he heard the mailman slide to a stop in front of their mailbox. Instinctively, he set the paintbrush down to go check, then thought better of it. If he hadn’t heard from her by now, he wasn’t going to.

With Thanksgiving in a week, he reminded himself that he had a lot to be thankful for—his family, his good health, his business.

But his heart just wasn’t in it.

*  *  *

Esther and Lizzie were sipping coffee at the kitchen table after they said goodbye to the last of their guests. So far, they didn’t have any reservations for Thanksgiving Day. That could change, but Esther suspected most folks would rather be with their families.

“Where’s Naomi?” She asked, realizing she hadn’t seen her since breakfast.

“She walked down to the pond.” Lizzie sighed. “But she didn’t take her painting supplies.”

“She seems depressed again. Do you think it’s because she and Thomas broke up, or because Amos is gone?”

Ach, it’s because Amos is gone.” Lizzie smiled, dentures perfectly in place. “And I know that to be a fact. I was upstairs last week, and Naomi had written Amos a letter. I was emptying the trash, and I saw all these tiny little pieces of paper. One caught my eye because it said, Dear Amos.” She lowered her eyes. “I tried to piece them all back together again, but it was impossible. There were just too many of them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did.”

Nee, you didn’t.” Esther reconsidered. Maybe Lizzie did tell her. Neither of their memories were what they used to be. “I considered calling Amos’s mudder to see if she thought he was pining over Naomi, but since he hasn’t called or written, I decided not to.”

“They’re meant to be together,” Lizzie said. “Calling off the engagement with Thomas just confirmed what we already knew.”

“I think Naomi would have eventually called off the engagement anyway.” Esther got up and poured herself another cup of coffee, then refilled Lizzie’s cup. “Mary and John are coming over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Lizzie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? We ask them every year, and they always decline. It hurts mei heart to know they’re alone on the holiday. Their families live so far away. I understand why they moved here for John’s job, but no one should be alone on Thanksgiving.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” Esther smiled. “Because Gus is coming this year too.”

Lizzie slouched in her chair and closed her eyes. “The holiday is ruined! Why in the world did you ask him?”

“I’ve never told you before, but I’ve asked him every year, and he’s told me a firm no every time. But this year he said yes.” Esther smiled again.

Still slouched in the chair, Lizzie wiggled a finger at Esther. “Are you sure you and him aren’t having some kind of—”

Ach, hush now. Of course not.” Esther chuckled. “I can’t help but laugh every time I think about you and Naomi having that notion in your heads.”

“Then why is he coming this year? You know he will be his rude, grumpy self. Doesn’t seem fair to the rest of us, Esther.” Lizzie rolled her lip into a pout.

“I don’t know why he chose to come this year. But you are going to be nice to him. And I mean it, Lizzie. I’m going to have a talk with Gus about the proper way to behave, and I expect you to treat him kindly.”

“I just won’t talk at all.” Lizzie held her pout as she ran a finger around the rim of her cup. “But I’m telling you, that man will never change.”

Esther thought about Gus’s references to God in the past. It sounded like Gus had a relationship with God at some point. Maybe he could find his way back to Him.

“Just do your best to be nice to him. I’m going to head over there now. It’s supposed to freeze tonight.” She went to the counter and picked up the slice of chocolate pie she’d already packed.

“And you take him pie most days.” Lizzie let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re a gut woman, Esther. He surely doesn’t deserve it.”

“I’ll be back.”

Esther left Lizzie pouting in the kitchen and went to the living room. She pushed her arms into the sleeves of her heavy jacket and placed her bonnet on over her prayer covering.

When she arrived at Gus’s cottage, he opened the door before she knocked. He was looking like the old Gus, a bit unkept, hair too long, beard scraggly, and wearing a stained white T-shirt. Esther saw Whiskers behind him, sleeping on a rug in front of the fireplace.

He held out his hand for the pie. “It’s been three days.”

“Gus, it rained yesterday. You’re lucky I came today. It’s cold out here, and tonight it will be even colder.” She cleared her throat. “May I come in, please? I need to talk to you.”

He pushed his chest out, squinting at her. “What about?”

Esther shivered. “I’ll tell you when you step aside and let me in.”

Grumbling, he moved out of the way. Things inside had returned to the way they’d always been and a strange odor hung in the air.

Esther glanced around for a place to sit and chose a rocking chair. Gus obviously always sat in the same spot on the couch since it was worn down and lower than the rest of the couch. A paper plate with a half-eaten sandwich was sitting on the end table next to that end of the couch, along with three glasses, a stack of newspapers, and a banana.

After she was seated, she said, “We are very happy you are coming for Thanksgiving.”

Gus laughed heartily, jowls jiggling. He sat on the couch, then leaned forward. “I’m only going cuz it will upset Lizzie.”

Esther folded her hands in her lap. “That’s what I’d like to talk to you about. I have already spoken to Lizzie about this matter. I told her I expect her to be gracious. We all have a lot to be thankful for. And I expect you to show her the same kindness.” She wanted to tell him to clean himself up but decided Gus was a work in progress, and she shouldn’t push it.

“I’ve changed my mind. I ain’t going.” He crossed an ankle over his knee. “I don’t know why I said I would anyway.”

Esther stood and walked toward him until she was standing right in front of him with her hands on her hips.

“You will be there, Gus Owens. And you will be nice to Lizzie and everyone else in attendance. You will remember to say thank you and please, and you will be polite and grateful.”

Gus’s bushy eyebrows drew inward. “I don’t like this bossy side of you, Esther.” He shook his head. “I ain’t going.”

Ya, you are.” She grinned. “Or no more pie.” She glared at him. “Ever.”

She walked out, slammed the door to the cottage, and figured Gus would be a no-show for Thanksgiving. But she’d done the best she could.

*  *  *

Naomi gazed at the sunset. Since the corn had been harvested, the orange rays no longer filtered through the green stalks, but it was still beautiful and worthy of a painting. She’d tried, but without Amos by her side, her painting had reverted to a dull picture of a lovely place.

Even so, she enjoyed standing by the water and watching the sun set. There was something to be said for serenity. When such peacefulness wraps around a person, it spills over into everything they do. Without it, things can never be as we want them to be, and that included painting.

She pulled her coat tightly around her as she recalled memories from her past. Her parents dying. Thomas leaving. Thomas returning. Amos arriving. Amos leaving. But the Thanksgiving season was upon them, so she squeezed her eyes closed and forced herself to think about the things she was grateful for. Her good health. Lizzie and Esther—and their good health. Her life in their house and the comic relief that came almost daily—and was a nice distraction.

Despite her heart having been shattered by Thomas, she’d thought love had found her again.

“Want some company?”

She turned around, surprised to see Lizzie, since she never came down to the pond. It was cold this evening and quite a trek for her older friends.

Ya, sure. I’m just taking in this beautiful sunset.” Naomi pointed in front of her as she and Lizzie sat on the bench. “When the sun is exactly halfway down against the horizon, the water twinkles like a million tiny stars floating on top of the pond.”

Lizzie watched quietly beside her.

“See.” Naomi smiled. “Then the water begins to dull as if preparing for nighttime, even though there are still twenty minutes before it will be completely dark.”

“Why aren’t you painting?” Lizzie looked her way. “Is it because Amos isn’t here to paint with you?”

Leave it to Lizzie to be direct. “Ya, I think maybe it is.” Naomi was surprised she admitted her true feelings to Lizzie, but there didn’t seem to be any reason not to. Amos was gone, so Lizzie couldn’t play matchmaker or lock anyone in the basement.

“Then why haven’t you told that boy you’re in lieb with him?”

Naomi turned to Lizzie. “Can a person really fall in love so quickly?”

“Of course. I met mei Reuben, then two weeks later we were promised to each other, and we married the following month.” Lizzie smiled her perfectly white smile. “And we spent fifty-one years in lieb.” She shrugged. “Sometimes you just know.”

Naomi smiled. “I bet you miss him.”

“Everyday. But I will see him again.” She paused. “Um, he left you a letter. Did he say he loved you?”

Nee. He thought I needed time to work out mei feelings about Thomas.”

“Did you write him back? Did you tell him you called off the engagement?”

Nee. His letter said I helped him find his way back to a happier place, but he didn’t ask me to write him back. He basically wished me well.” Naomi knew the letter by heart from reading it every night.

Lizzie groaned. “Then he doesn’t even know you broke up with Thomas. It was clear that boy had feelings for you.”

“He lives in Ohio. The geography doesn’t work. And if he felt so strongly about me, he would have written.”

Ach, I don’t think I believe that.”

Naomi wanted to change the subject. “I heard Gus is coming for Thanksgiving next week.”

Lizzie shook her head as she clicked her tongue. “That’s because Esther has taken leave of her senses, or she’s punishing me for something I’m unaware of. Can you even imagine how that man will ruin the holiday?”

Naomi agreed with Lizzie but felt like she should encourage her to behave. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. And it seems important that we’re all together. Even Mary and John are coming.”

“That part, I’m happy about. But I don’t even like to be around Gus, and we’ve never sat down for a meal together.”

“I’m going to prepare some special side dishes, things Esther can eat that shouldn’t upset her stomach.” Naomi turned her eyes to the setting sun. “We better go back to the haus. It’s going to be completely dark soon.”

As they started back, Naomi glanced at Gus’s cottage. “I’m going to go check on Whiskers. Gus seems to have adopted her.”

Lizzie shivered. “That black cat and Gus deserve each other, although I’m surprised he’s taking care of anyone besides himself, especially since it’s a black cat that will give him nothing but bad luck.”

“Gus seems to have had plenty of that before the cat came along.” She waved at Lizzie as they parted ways. “I won’t be long.”

She made the short trek to Gus’s house, knocked lightly on the door, and waited. He answered with a frown on his face. “What do you want?”

“I was just checking on Whiskers.”

Gus pointed over his shoulder. “All it does is sleep and eat.”

Naomi peered around him and saw the cat asleep in front of the fireplace.

“Is that all?” Gus looped his thumbs beneath his suspenders and raised an eyebrow.

Naomi was cold, but she didn’t treasure the idea of going into Gus’s house. “Nee. I also wanted to tell you that it is important to Esther for Thanksgiving to be a nice day. I hope you and Lizzie will be able to get along.”

“This is getting ridiculous. You’re the second person to instruct me on how to behave at Thanksgiving. Esther already gave me a lecture. I’m tempted not to go, except I’d rather not eat another frozen turkey dinner out of a box again this year.” He paused, grumbling. “And I can’t control the way Lizzie treats people. Grumpy old woman.”

Naomi pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. The man obviously had no idea that his nickname was Grumpy Gus.

“Well, I’m glad you’re coming.” Naomi smiled. “I best get back before dark.”

“That cat is already causing me bad luck.” He slammed the door, and Naomi started back to the main house. She prayed that Thanksgiving would be a good day and that Gus and Lizzie would be nice—or at least civil to each other.

Then she prayed for Amos, wishing him the best life had to offer. If she couldn’t be with him, she could at least pray for him, like he said he would pray for her.

I hope you find the peace in your heart that I know you are searching for.